Page 87 of Just Act Natural

Griffin’s deep voice shakes me out of my Lila-perfume haze. “Yeah. A little bit.”

“I know a few good spots, if you’ve got time while you’re in town.”

“He knows all the good spots.” Hope’s got him wrapped up tight in her arms. “He’s teaching me how, too. I mostly just cast and don’t catch anything, but we could make a whole day of it if you want, Lila.”

She turns to Wren. “You can come, too, if you want?—”

Wren waves her off. “That’s not necessary. I don’t eat anything with scales.”

Lila burrows deeper against me. “I fished on the trip. I don’t really need to again.”

“Did you have any luck?” Hope asks.

“Yes and no. Yes, I caught one. No…the subsequent fish-related trauma scarred me for life.”

“Did they make you gut it?” Griffin’s a little too gleeful in his questioning. Hope smacks his chest.

Lila turns almost green again. I run a hand along her arm to soothe her. “I’ll catch and release. How about that, princess?”

“No fish murder?”

I nod like it’s a done deal. “No fish murder.”

She sighs against me. “Thank you.”

“Man,” Griffin says. “Calling itfish murderkind of sucks the fun out of it.”

When we head inside to say our goodbyes, nearly everyone else has left for the evening. We find Lila’s parents in the kitchen washing dishes.

“We’re going to go,” Lila tells them.

Her mom rushes over. “Before you do, I wanted to invite you to sit with us during the parade at the Fourth Fest, Grant. Lila will be running around in the morning, making sure everything goes smoothly, and I hate the idea of you all alone during the festivities.”

The offer is flattering and weirdly comforting. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

“We’ll have chairs and snacks. You just bring yourself. Lila can tell you where to find us. Or give me your number, and I’ll text you a map.”

“Do not give her your number,” Lila says. “You don’t need to see the family group chat craziness yet.”

My chest swells with that one small word. I can live withyet.

“Grant, do you golf?” Mr. Parrish asks.

“I have, but not for a long time.”

He beckons me to follow him. “Come see my new clubs.”

The others groan. I’m guessing the new clubs have been a favorite point of pride. I follow him into the garage, where he leads me to a navy blue stand bag kitted out with shiny golf clubs.

“That’s a nice set.” I know enough about the sport to guess he dropped a considerable amount of money on those clubs.Feels a bit like a test. Will I be impressed? Too impressed? Will I try to outdo him?

“They’re not why I asked you out here.”

Oh. A trap, then.

“Why are we out here, sir?”

“I don’t like you seeing my daughter as some temporary vacation fun.”

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