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I glance to Cameron, who’s wearing a smile that matches my own. Both of us are fighting laughter. “Not tonight, Gracie girl. Maybe another time.”
“Promise?” She holds out her pinkie finger expectantly.
I wrap my finger around hers. “Promise.”
“With tiny cookies,” she amends.
I nod. “Circus cookies. I know your favorite.”
Grace pulls me into the sitting room, and Cameron follows closely behind. But Grace quickly abandons us for her collection of Barbies that fills a basket in the corner.
“How much shit is Dad giving you about this whole Cartwright deal?” Cameron says low enough for Grace to not hear.
“Not as much as he’s going to,” I mutter cryptically. “Have my back?”
“Always.” I’ll give it to Cam. He might give me shit, and I give it right back. But if I had to go into a life or death knife fight with anyone on the planet, I know who I’d pick to be by my side. No matter how much we bicker and compete, at the end of the day, Cam’s my ride or die.
We watch Grace playing for a moment, and then she yanks us down by our hands to sit at her kid-sized table. “You, be Princess Pony. And you, be Dino Dylan. He’s Barbie’s boyfriend.” She shoves figurines into our hands, and though Cameron and I are equally annoyed, we play along.
“Remember when we used to pop firecrackers in back, behind Mom’s garden? How’d we end up playing Barbies?” Cameron groans.
“You had me,” Grace answers flatly, seemingly not listening but as usual, hearing everything.
The front door opens again, and Kayla and Chance appear. Though Kayla is Cole’s twin, she’s more likely to be with Chance at any given time. They’re perpetual sidekicks. I’d call them partners in crime, but Chance wouldn’t consider speeding, much less any actual crime, and Kayla pretty much does whatever the fuck she wants. Usually, we don’t even know what she’s up to because she holds her cards close to the vest until it serves her to lay them out for show. I should’ve taken a play from her rule book with this whole Cartwright deal.
Though this is our parents’ home, I turn into the host of this shindig. “Hey, y’all! Thanks for coming!”
Chance looks at me like I sprouted a second—or third—head. “Dad said there was a dinner. We’re expected to be here, so here we are.”
He holds his hands out, sounding slightly annoyed at Dad’s non-invitation, but there’s no way he’d go against the old man. I get it, Dad’s done this to all of us at one time or another.
Kayla rolls her eyes at Chance’s good soldier response. To me, she says, “It’s Dad’s dinner, but it’s your deal. We gotchur back, Carter. Whatever you need.”
Like Cam, I’m glad to know that Kayla’s here for me. And it helps that she calls it my deal.
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I warn.
Kayla gives me a slightly confused, slightly questioning eyebrow but says nothing as she sits down in another kid-sized chair at Grace’s table. Picking up a Mandalorian figurine, she deadpans, “Play or play not, no try.”
Grace laughs and joins in with Kayla, but not before gesturing to Cameron and me to return to our roles and handing Chance a tree.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks. Cameron glares at him, silently telling him to figure it out and not fuck around with Gracie. Minutes later, we’re at Grace’s mercy as she directs us in a scene of her making. At least I’ve got a chair to sit in. Chance is kneeling on the floor, dancing his tree across the table and singing a song about the parts of a tree to the tune of Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.
But the show really begins for me when Elena and Claire are shown in. Grace pipes up immediately, “Elena!”
She runs to the woman, hugging her around her middle. Elena’s charmed and hugs her back just as tightly. “Well, hello, sweet Grace. How’re you doing, darling?”
“Good. You wanna play Barbies?”
Cameron interrupts, “Grace, I think Mrs. Cartwright has better things to do right now.”
While I’m not so sure of that, we all rise, thankful to be released from Barbie hell.
Grace’s face falls, her bottom lip poking out. Elena bends down a little to stage whisper, “You’d best pop that lip back in. He’s wrong, I don’t have anything better to do, but I have to play adult right now instead of Barbies. So annoying.”
Grace laughs. “Playing adult sounds boring.”
“It is sometimes,” Elena agrees.
Switching gears from fun uncle to business, I hold my hand out to Elena for an easy shake and then to Claire, who shakes it reluctantly. “I wasn’t expecting you. Thank you for coming.”
Through gritted teeth, she says, “Stanley said you’d called and invited Aunt Elena to some dinner.” She flashes her fingers around like this dinner party is a waste of time.
