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Prologue
15 years ago - Age 6
PIPER
Every once in a while, there was a rare moment when Piper got to be on her own. No brothers to poke and prod her or show her gross bugs from the backyard. No friends or teachers at school expecting anything from her. It had been a while since the last time, so when her mother came to wake her up for school that morning, Piper miraculously came down with a nasty cold. She thought she had gotten pretty good at pretend sneezing by that point, but only one of her parents fell for it. Her father, Cole, seemed to notice immediately that it was all an act, and Piper had no idea why he didn’t tell on her. Instead, he looked right at her, tapped his nose, and winked before declaring that he, too, would skip going to the office. After that, because her parents owned a business together, it was only a matter of time until he roped Piper’s mom, Paisley, into staying home with them after they had dropped Piper’s brothers off at their respective schools.
That was how Piper ended up in the kitchen, legs swinging under her chair as she fiddled with a sunflower head, forever suspended in the small glass dome her mom had gifted her earlier that day. Markers were strewn atop the table, and her fingers were stained at the tips from the sky she’d colored in on her house drawing. The pop song playing through the surround sound had been on the radio so much lately that Piper knew the lyrics vaguely well enough to sing along while her parents chopped carrots and boiled noodles behind her. She wasn’t fabricating an illness anymore, but her dad had insisted on the chicken noodle soup anyway, claiming it could cure even a restless heart’s ailments.
“I think it needs salt,” Piper’s mother announced, reaching for the saltshaker.
“Now, hold on just a second, Pay.” Cole rounded the island and caught Paisley by the waist. “We have our very own, super special taste-tester sitting right over there. And she’s only home for one day.”
A smile spread across Paisley’s face, and Piper mimicked it with her own, knowing exactly who her dad was talking about. Piper’s mom lifted her hand and placed it on her forehead as if she were trying to peer through a crowd. “Who? I don’t see any super special taste-testers.”
“Me, me!” Piper giggled and kicked her legs harder.
“Oh my goodness,” Paisley gasped and clutched at her heart. “You are a super special taste-tester? I had no idea! I thought you were a singer.”
“I’m both,” Piper decided on the spot. “And a house designer like you!”
“Ah, a multi-talented girl.” Her mom beamed.
“She’s been taste-testing for me for years!” Cole puffed out his chest with pride, and Piper grinned up at her father, her nose scrunching and eyes squinting. “I think we should put her to the test. What do you think, honey?”
“Absolutely!” Paisley agreed and brought over a silver spoon teeming with soup, blowing on it before she held it up to Piper’s mouth. The warm liquid coated Piper’s tongue, and she screwed up her face in thought as her parents stared down with wide, expectant eyes. Despite her parents’ faith in her, Piper had no idea what the soup needed, if anything, and opted to copy what her mother had said earlier.
“It needs salt,” Piper said. Both her parents seemed to take this well.
“Genius!” Cole declared, turning to Paisley. “Didn’t I tell you she’s a genius?”
“You did.” Paisley nodded and walked over to the large pot on the stove to add salt. Cole moved in beside her, pulled the wooden spoon from the pot for a taste, and hummed his approval. “Since you’re so smart,” Piper’s mom called out. “What color do you think I should paint the cabinets?”
Piper looked down at her markers and contemplated them before eyeing the color she had accidentally smeared across her hands. “Blue!”
“Blue.” Cole nodded. “I like it.”
Paisley stepped back from the stove to get a wider look at the white-primed cabinets as if she were already painting them in her mind. Piper watched a spark of excitement pass through her mom’s features. “Blue is perfect. We can do dark blue and maybe a gray stone for the backsplash?”
“Love it,” Cole said.
The song that had been playing finally faded out, and a new one started in its place. It sounded old, slow, and boring, not at all the fun, upbeat music that Piper liked to listen to. She was just about to voice her complaint when her dad yanked her mom into his arms and whispered something into her ear.
Paisley threw her head back with a laugh. “You’ll step on my feet again, Mr. Hartrick. You’re a bull in a china shop when it comes to coordination.”
“Excuse you. I am a fantastic dancer,” Cole argued. Piper giggled because just as her father had somehow known she had been lying earlier, she knew he was lying, too. Her dad looked weird when he danced. His hips always jerked back and forth like the robot in her favorite TV show. “Dance with me, Pay. You know you want to.”
“Okay, okay.” Paisley gave in and wrapped her arms around Cole’s neck, where his apron emblazoned with the words “Grill Master” hung. Piper watched in rapt attention as her dad pulled her mom in and started to sway. The song continued and built to a chorus as Piper’s father twirled her mother under his arm, his eyes soft and never leaving Paisley until it was finally over, ending with a slow press of lips.
“Ugh, gross.” Piper gagged.
Part One
I hate you
One
Present - Age 21
