“Absolutely,” Eliza said.
“He is,” Piper said. “I know it.”
Briar, who had not stopped scratching Larry’s neck through the entire conversation, looked up at me with the surprising solemnity of a thirteen-year-old delivering a verdict. “He will for sure. He works for my mom. She’ll kick his ass down the block if he doesn’t, and he knows it.”
I huffed out a small wet laugh. “Thank you, Briar.”
She gave a small nod and went back to Larry, satisfied, like the matter was now settled.
“At least the Coffee Cabin has been blessedly creep-free this week,” Eliza added, in the casual way she said things that were just sitting on top of her mind. “We should take whatever good news we can get.”
“He hasn’t been coming around my shop either,” I said. “I noticed that too.”
“Maybe Eric finally took the hint and crawled back under whatever rock he came out of,” Piper said.
“I hope so.”
I felt seen and a little undone. My sisters were right next to me, their elbows on the same rail as mine, the four of us in a row with a thirteen-year-old and a llama, and I was about to walk into the rest of the night with all of them rooting for me, and I had not even had to ask.
Grandma called us to the table. I straightened up, gave Larry one last scratch, and let my sisters herd me back across the lawn toward the food.
Chapter 21
Cara
Grandma was already setting a platter down at the center of the table when I came back across the lawn with my sisters trailing behind me. The string lights Grandpa had hung over the long table were on now, throwing their soft yellow glow over everything, and the last of the sunset was bleeding pink and gold behind the trees. The air had cooled, but it was still nice enough to sit outside in just a sweater.
We took our seats around the long table, in the loose, unspoken arrangement that had evolved over the years. Grandma at the head of the table, Grandpa at the foot. Piper and Ren on one side, Eliza and Nate next to them, with Tilly between them. Lucy and Spencer on the other side. Hunter at Grandpa’s elbow with Noah next to him. Lark and Briar sat across from each other in a way that let them maintain their endless silent sisterly communication. Paige came out of the back door of the house just as I was sitting down, carrying a pitcher of iced tea, and slid into her seat next to Hunter without making a fuss about being late. She caught my eye across the table and gave me a small private smile that saidI see you. Later.I gave her a small private smile back that saidI know. Later.
Dinner was loud and layered, three conversations at once. Hot dogs and burgers off the grill. Potato salad, baked beans, corn on the cob, and watermelon cut into cold pink wedges. Grandma was at the end of the table, watching all of it like a queen surveying her kingdom, which she was. Grandpa was at his end, eating slowly, listening more than talking.
I was right in the middle of all of it and also somewhere else. My phone was in my pocket. I had thought about Jasper at least nine times in the last hour, and I was about to do something about it, but I wasn’t sure I had the courage yet.
I gave up about halfway through my second hot dog. I slipped my phone out of my pocket under the edge of the table and typed a message before I could talk myself out of it.
Me: I’m at the Honeybrook with the whole family. There’s a llama, three pugs, a chocolate lab, and a goose. Wish you were here.
I hit send and immediately wanted to throw my phone into the rescue enclosure.
The reply came back within thirty seconds.
JASPER: I wish I were there too. Send me a selfie of you and the llama. Larry, right?
I laughed out loud at the table without meaning to.
Lucy looked up from across the table and gave me theI know exactly who that islook. Eliza, two seats down, made a small soft sound that meant she’d seen Lucy’s face and figured it out. Grandma’s eyebrow went up another quarter inch.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to no one in particular, and I got up from the table with my phone in my hand and walked across the lawn to the rescue enclosure. The string lights threw a softyellow glow most of the way out, and Larry came over to the fence, sensing my approach. I held up the phone.
“Larry. Selfie for a friend.”
He looked directly at the camera with the dignified, slightly stunned expression he reserved for his closest friends, his enormous chin already settling onto the top rail in anticipation. This was a llama used to taking selfies with his fans.
I sent it.
JASPER: He’s perfect. Tell him I said hi.
Me: He says hi back.
