“How about I get the girls dressed, fed, and take them to school. Would that help?”
Teagan sighed. “That would be amazing. But why?”
Harley looked at her sister, and suddenly all the history and past hurts faded away, along with the uncertainty about Bryan, and a warm sense of nostalgia washed over her. Her grandma’s love filled her heart. And she made the only response that felt right.
“Ohana.”
Chapter 7
Big sisters are the crab grass in the lawn of life.
—Charles M. Schulz
Feeling like she’d earned a gold star, Harley corralled the girls back into their room. Getting them focused on the tasks required to deliver them to class on time was like trying to grab hold of two greased piglets at the state fair. But deep down inside she loved the chaos, the hell-on-wheels attitude of Poppy and the sweet hugs from Lily. Though she loved her nieces equally, she found it harder to connect with Lily.
Lily was focused, quiet, introverted, a sweet and gentle spirit. All the qualities Teagan possessed, and all the traits Harley had tried to adopt over the years, unsuccessfully. On the other hand, Poppy was a hellion, and Harley understood her need to flip society the bird from time to time.
“Lily, how fast can you get the capes out of the laundry basket?”
She looked at Poppy. “She said one-two-fwee.”
“No, you said that.” She turned back to Lily. “Next time you want your cape, you’re going to have to ask. Because big girls tell the universe what form they want to take. Got me?”
Lily nodded and raced downstairs. Or at least Harley thought she did. The girl moved like a cat burglar. Huh, maybe shewasthe brains of the operation.
“You,” she said to Poppy. “You want to wear that cape? You have until the count of one-two-three to get dressed. Shirt first, the rest you decide.”
“I don’ts want to. It’s itchy.”
Well, that made complete sense. Who was Harley to force uncomfortable fashion on a kid?
“Then you double-layer, got me? Whatever shirt you want on the bottom, then pink on top. Now, get ready to race the clock. On go . . . Go!”
Poppy pulled a pajama shirt over her head, struggling to get the right arm in. “One.” Poppy yanked the pink top down. “Don’t forget pants.”
“Pants.” She raced to her dresser and pulled out her purple pajama bottoms. “Two.” One foot in. “Two and a half.” Then the other. When she was finished, Poppy grabbed a matching tutu from the dress-up box and stepped into it. “And . . .” Poppy yanked the elastic-waisted mesh around her belly. “Three.”
Poppy lifted her hands and stepped back as if she was a contestant onCupcake Wars. Harley lifted her hand, and Poppy jumped as high as she could, her tongue peeking out as she did a one-two high five followed by an impressive mic drop.
“Good form.”
“Up,” Poppy said and Harley complied, not expecting her niece to wrap her arms around Harley’s neck and give her a kiss on the lips. As the little girl rested her head on Harley’s shoulder, she added a new rule to the Adulting Handbook:
Rule Three: Being cool isn’t the same thing as being loved.
And Harley realized she wanted to be loved and to give love. She just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
“Down,” Poppy said. Harley set her down just as Lily burst into the room holding the two cherished capes in her hand. Harley secured them to both girls’ shoulders and walked to the door. She didn’t hear anything from the kitchen.
She wondered if Teagan had already left or if she’d taken the vodka from the freezer and was working her way toward a serious hangover.
“You two pick up your room and put things where they belong. As fast as you can.”
“Like a race?”
“Like a race.” Poppy looked even more excited than before, if that was even possible. “You clean and I’ll go pack some lunches. Winner gets a Pop-Tart for lunch.”
The girls jumped into action, cleaning their room at lightning speed. Harley walked to the kitchen and found Teagan surprisingly absent. The binder was open on the kitchen table, turned toAPPROPRIATE LUNCHBOX FOODS.Nowhere on the list did it say Pop-Tarts. In fact, Pop-Tarts were nowhere to be found in the kitchen.
