Scarlett tsk-tsks. “Stop being difficult and just agree. You will eventually, anyway.”
“I’m not being difficult, and I will not agree eventually, especially if you are trying to manipulate me.”
She turns back to me and makes no effort to lower her voice. “Guy was cranky, too, when we first met, but underneath that hard shell is a gooey interior.”
“I don’t have a gooey interior.” Oliver is sitting on the grass, watching the girls. His legs are stretched out in front of him, and he’s propped back on his hands. The sun shines on his dark hair. His pose draws my eye to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, all of it impeccably outlined by his perfectly tailored suit.
My own interior starts to feel a bit gooey.
“You’re totally a softy,” Ava says. “Otherwise, Emma wouldn’t like you.”
Emma laughs, the sound full of pure joy. Oliver stands up, helping them stack the game pieces.
“Emma has Angelman syndrome.” Scarlett leans toward me, keeping her voice low.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a chromosomal disorder. Deletion or defect of chromosome 15. It’s rare, and the range of ways people are affected by it varies by subtype. She can’t speak, but she does understand what we’re saying. She communicates mostly through gestures—Fred’s been teaching us some sign language, actually, so that’s been helpful.” She smiles at me, the motion lighting up her face.
“She seems very sweet.” I look at Emma and Oliver. Now he’s kneeling on the grass while they stack the game pieces. I need to reframe my prior thoughts on Emma. I can’t believe I had jealous and bitter thoughts about a child.
“She is. Being a part of her life has been one of the most rewarding experiences. Also a little stressful at times, as you can probably imagine. It’s been difficult lately.” She winces. “Teenage hormones. She’s been a little more aggressive, and we had to fight with our insurance to get her on birth control to stop her periods.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “She needs help in the bathroom, with grooming, with getting ready, and all of that as it is. I don’t know how we would have been able to explain the bleeding every month or get her to understand.”
“I barely understood it when I got my first period. It was terrifying,” I say.
“Right.” Scarlett chuckles. “It’s an awful time for all of us.”
Scarlett is an amazing human, someone I would love to befriend.
Oliver, lounging in his expensive suit now covered in grass, isn’t doing much to showcase the heartless-businessman persona he was just trying to convince me of. Honestly, him trying to persuade me he’s terrible just makes me like him more. Something is clearly wrong with me.
“Anyway, enough about me. Did you enjoy the pupusas?”
“They were amazing.”
“On one of our first dates, Guy and I had dinner from that same truck. We have them here at least once a month now.”
“Oh, this isn’t a date.” Except the fluttering in my stomach indicates otherwise, suggesting I might want it to be a date. I glance at Oliver, but he’s busy catching the game piece Ava tosses to him like a frisbee. I can’t tell if he’s still listening to any of this.
Scarlett lifts her brows, saying nothing.
“We’re friends” I continue. “Colleagues. I, um, Oliver and my sister own a camp together, and he’s going to feature some of my pieces in a new gallery in a couple months.”
“She’s being kind,” he says. “I bribed her into it.”
So he is still listening.
Scarlett laughs. “That sounds about right. What kind of pieces are you making?”
“Metal sculptures.”
Oliver interjects again. “She’s an amazing artist.”
Scarlett rubs her lips together. “Wow. Oliver isn’t one to dole out compliments, so you must be good.”
Sure. I’m great when I can actually work, but right now, I’m just the queen of suck.
“I see you’ve ambushed Oliver.” A tall, dark-haired man in a suit and tie bends over Scarlett. “Well done.”