Page 6 of Lilly's Little Labor Day

“You’re my best friend,” Lilly said, “but don’t get offended when I put you up in a minute. It isn’t personal. Edward may wonder why I have a stuffie who wears diapers. I don’t want him thinking I’m a Little or anything.”

Again, Ms. Duckworth didn’t respond, but that smile told Lilly she understood. They were in this together, after all.

Lilly studied her for a moment and then said, “I know I am a Little. But Edward can’t know that! He’ll think I’m a total weirdo.”

The duck kept staring at her.

Lilly shook her head. “I don’t know that he’s a Daddy. Not for sure, anyway. He just gives off Daddy vibes. It’s probably because he’s all cute, sexy, and kinda stern.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter even if he is a Daddy. He’s my stepbrother. I can’t rehash all this now. We’ve got to finish these cookies.”

As always, Ms. Duckworth wasn’t upset. She smiled at Lilly. Lilly giggled and waved.

She went about finishing the cookies, eager to have them ready by the time Edward arrived. Who doesn’t want to be greeted with fresh, warm chocolate chip cookies?

But it was hard to concentrate on the task at hand. Something deep down told her she was going to meet her Daddy today. Would it be Blake? That would be exciting.

Or could it be…

“No!” she shouted to herself. “Don’t go down that road. You and he can’t…”

She groaned.

She knew what her brain was telling her. She knew what society would tell her.

But her heart was saying something else.

And it was talking awfully loudly.

Chapter 3

Edward guided his sleek 718 Spyder RS through the suburban streets, turning heads and drawing stares.

He smiled.

Go ahead and look. It isn’t every day you see a $170,000 sports car.

A group of boys in a yard stopped kicking a soccer ball and ran to the curb, dropping their jaws and following the car with their eyes. Edward gave them a little wave, but they probably couldn’t see him thanks to the dark tint that shaded the windows.

You too can have this one day. If you’re a near-genius, are ambitious, and can talk investors into giving you startup capital.

He rounded a curve and kept going. Mr. Jensen stood in his driveway, water hose in hand, washing his car. Only the year on the red Caddy had changed. He’d upgraded, at least. That was about it. Nothing else had changed. He used to wash his car almost every day back when Edward was a kid. He was retired and didn’t have much else to do. How old was he now? He’d been retired forever it seemed and had been old twenty years ago.

He offered a half-hearted wave, but as usual, didn’t even know who he was waving to. He just did it every time a car passed by, not even bothering to look up from his task.

Some things never change, Edward thought.

Edward drove deeper into the old neighborhood. So much had stayed the same. The houses were forty to sixty years old but well maintained. Most were two stories. Middle class. Nothing fancy. But not on the lower end, either. A quiet, safe neighborhood that attracted families and tended to keep them. The parents, at least. All the kids from Edward’s generation had moved on to build their own lives.

He pulled into the driveway but kept the engine running as he studied his childhood home. Dad still had the yard looking lush and perfectly manicured. The hedges that lined both sides of the house, split by the front door, were trimmed to precision. The white siding was freshly painted. The new windows—a gift last Christmas from Edward—looked nice. Dad had gone on and on about how much money the energy-efficient glass would save. He was into that, like most men of his age are.

Edward’s attention shifted away from the house. He began to focus on what he couldn’t see yet. Or rather, who he couldn’t see.

She was in there.

His kid stepsister.

Lilly.

She wasn’t a kid anymore, he realized.

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