Page 64 of Call It Serendipity

“I think I might be passionate about helping animals. I really enjoy spending time at your family’s shelter. And today’s event was so fun.” The innocent hope in Taylor’s voice snaps me back to the present in an instant. I haven’t heard her talk like that maybe ever.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Lucy says with a supportive smile. “I heard this saying that keeps me going when I feel stuck—it takes ten thousand hours to master something. You’ll never log that time without starting.”

“What do you like about it?” I ask, genuinely curious and eager to see Taylor latching on to something.

“The animals,” she huffs as if it’s obvious.

I try not to react, giving her space to continue. And after another bite, she does. “I like being able to build trust with an animal that needs me, and seeing my work actually make a difference.”

“You’re a natural, honestly,” Lucy assures her. “Even with our more skeptical residents.”

Taylor swipes her last bite of garlic bread through the sauce remnants on her plate then pops it in her mouth. She bobs her head, considering this new information. “Can I increase my hours there? I could volunteer every day, maybe do some tasks someone would normally get paid for in a bigger shelter in the city. Not that I’m looking to get paid⁠—”

“Come as often as you’d like.”

Satisfied, my sister rises from the table, collecting her empty dishes and carrying them over to the sink. “Okay, I think I will.” Then with a hand on her hip, she flashes a dangerous smirk. “But tonight, I’ve clearly overstayed my welcome. Jake’s eye nearly started twitching halfway through dinner—with all that glaring he was doing.”

To her credit, Lucy at least tries to cover up her amusement, lifting her wine glass to hide a smirk of her own. It doesn’t matter, I can still see it. And so can Taylor, who proudly shoots her a wink before flitting off to her bedroom.

Lucy can smirk as much as she wants, though, because we’re finally alone again.

“I can put on a pot of decaf,” I suggest. “Maybe we check the TV Guide for a movie?”

My breath catches in my chest, waiting. It’s late, she could say. And it would be true. I don’t want to ask her to stay over, that might be moving too fast. It could scare her off. And I don’t expect her to want to stay just because her dog is here now; I didn’t offer to foster him as a bargaining chip.

But maybe a late night could be alright.

To my relief, she bats those thick, dark lashes at me and says, “That sounds perfect.”

So, I do just that.

Our plates from dinner are piled in the sink, and the smell of coffee fills the air in no time as I thumb through the little booklet with a promise of a CHiPs Reunion printed across the cover.

“There is a good amount of Halloween themed options,” I note, glancing up. “Do you like scary?”

Lucy is stretched out across my sofa, her head propped up on the arm, and her legs draped across my lap. She’s perfectly relaxed with her arm dangling over the side to reach Bear in his spot on the floor beside her. The sight of her comfortable here, with me, makes my heart swell.

“How scary?” she asks.

“Chucky?”

Her nose crinkles. “Pass.”

“What about Beetlejuice?”

This time, her face lights up. “I love Beetlejuice.”

I flip to the right channel, then deposit the remote on the coffee table and curl my hands around her legs instead. The night isn’t even over, and I already know I want a million more—just like this.

Maybe I’ve found my passion after all.

36

“There is a situation you need to handle.”

I take my glasses off and rub the bridge of my nose. “That I need to handle?” I repeat back to my father.

“Yes, with that vendor you found for the Manhattan location’s holiday event.” He sounds bored, as if it’s obvious that I should abandon this project to return home. “Tad has been trying to field it for you, but you know the owner best. I want this handled before we get any bad publicity.”