VICTOR KADE: This is your fault.
I burst out laughing, nearly spilling wine on the blanket, before typing back.
ME: MY fault?? You're the one who married me, remember?
VICTOR KADE: You married me. I was just there.
ME: Revisionist history.
VICTOR KADE: Accurate history.
ME: We're not having this argument
VICTOR KADE: Agreed. Also, she's bringing pelmeni. Lots of pelmeni.
ME: I love your grandmother.
VICTOR KADE: She loves you too. It's concerning.
ME: Why is that concerning?
VICTOR KADE: Because, like I said before, she's planning our vow renewal.
ME: She's WHAT?
VICTOR KADE: May. Apparently June is "too cliché."
"Oh my god," I mutter, typing frantically.
ME: Victor, we need to tell her this isn't real.
VICTOR KADE: Can't. She'll be devastated. Also, she already put a deposit on the church.
ME: SHE PUT DOWN A DEPOSIT???
VICTOR KADE: I'll handle it. Probably.
ME: That's not reassuring.
VICTOR KADE: It's the best I can offer.
"Harper." Margot's voice cuts through my texting fugue. "You're smiling."
I look up, and both sisters are watching me with matching goofy grins.
"I'm not?—"
"You are," Amelia says. "You've been smiling at your phone for five minutes. Who are you texting?"
"Victor. About his Babushka."
"Uh-huh. And what's so funny about a ‘Babushka’?”
I try to explain about the arcade frame and the vow renewal and the pelmeni, but halfway through I'm laughing too hard to form coherent sentences.
Margot and Amelia exchange a look.
"What?" I demand.
