“You had something to do with it, didn’t you?” she asks, her eyes narrowed. “I leave her alone with you for five minutes, and suddenly she wants to make friends? Do you have some kind of mysterious social power over women? Or maybe it’s just Grandma and me?” She shakes her head with a sigh. “It’s got to be the accent.”
I laugh, unlocking the car as I saunter to the driver’s side. “Maybe? We were just talking, and I guess she realized it wasn’t too late to make some changes.”
“Well, I’m glad,” she says, her warm eyes latching onto me. “I’m relieved to know she has people to talk to now besides me. And she likes you,” she adds, a smile teasing her lips. “You have to know, getting the Glenda seal of approval is unheard of. Literally.”
I grin as I crawl into the car. “I know. I’m a keeper. Maybe I should change my position on the ice and take Wally’s job.”
She laughs, the gentle vibrations going straight to my chest. “Yeah, yeah. You’re all right.”
She pauses, then looks at me, the hint of teasing draining from her voice. “I’m glad she likes you, though. She’s my only family.”
I nod as I settle under the weight of her words. “I’m happy too. And it’s nice that you have her so close.”
“Yeah.” She sinks into her seat as I back out of the parking spot. “Do you think about your family a lot?” she asks, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Like… siblings, grandparents?”
I shrug, hands firm on the wheel. “I used to. But I’ve made my peace with not knowing.”
“It would drive me crazy.”
I cough out a laugh. “Because you hate not having all the answers.”
She shoots me a sideways glance. “Got me all figured out, huh?”
“Yep.” I smirk.
She shrugs. “It’s just how I am. I admire you, really. It’s a huge thing to not have the answers and still go on with your life.”
“I don’t have a choice,” I say with a weak chuckle. “Whoever my family is, they didn’t want to be found. Left no notes, didn’t try to contact me growing up. Actually, I used to hate them—my mother particularly. For abandoning me. I mean, who does that?”
Her voice comes soft. “Maybe someone who doesn’t have a choice.”
I breathe a sigh. “Yeah. I understood that as I grew older. But when you’re a kid, it’s hard to accept.”
“I can only imagine. I’m glad you had a good foster family, at least.”
A warmth spreads through my chest. “Yeah. They’re a big part of why I eventually overcame all of that.” I glance at her. “Auntie Mumu wrote to me last night, by the way. They said they’d love to have us over. If you ever want to visit France.”
I can already picture us sitting in Auntie Mumu’s living room, or strolling down the streets where I grew up. I’ve never wanted to bring anyone there before, yet with Harper it feels obvious somehow.
“Um, maybe?” she says, and my heart sinks. “I’m not a big fan of flying.”
“Oh, I totally get that.” I force a smile, ignoring the gut punch I’m still reeling from.
Is it really about flying, or is it about what that trip would mean?
Glenda might think Harper is falling for me, but I’m not so sure. Sometimes, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m ten steps ahead—already picturing a future she hasn’t even considered. And I don’t know how long I can keep that up without getting hurt.
23
Harper
The first thing I do when I wake up is log into my grandma’s account via the retirement home’s online portal. The website is everythingbutuser-friendly, and I have to click through a dozen dead-end links before I find her contract and invoices. First red flag right there, folks.
I’m curled up on my couch, laptop balanced on my knees, one sock half-off. Sunlight is already pouring through the windows even though it feels way too early for this much glare. I print out the documents, and of course the terms and conditions are so tiny you need a magnifying glass to read them—or amicroscope.
Leaning toward the coffee table, I reach for my reading glasses without looking, but my fingers close on thin air.
I frown and glance at the coffee table. No glasses.
