Page 61 of Count My Lies

Harper lights up. “Can it be green? Tiana’s dress is green. FromThe Princess and the Frog,” she says matter-of-factly, as if it’s something we all should already know, which of course, I do, given howoften she watches the movie. It’s recently replacedMoanaas her favorite.

“We can look for a green one,” I say, and she claps happily.

“And I have a dress for you, Cait,” I say, looking to Sloane. “It’s a little too short for me, but I think it’ll fit you perfectly.”

The red Hervé Léger. I bought it before we left, the same day I bought all of the other outfits for her. “I need a dress,” I told the saleswoman. “Something head-turning.” She’d nodded, returned shortly, clearly understanding what I was looking for. At home, I took off the tags, wore it around for a few hours to break it in a bit.

“Thanks,” Sloane says. Her eyes don’t meet mine. Does she feel guilty about their almost kiss? She shouldn’t. I practically shoved her into Jay’s lap. Turned her into someone I knew he’d want to put his hands all over.

“Great,” I say. “I’m just going to get dressed, meet you downstairs in ten? Do you mind getting Harper ready?”

She nods. I bend to kiss Harper. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, lovey, okay?”

Upstairs, I dress in a college T-shirt and cutoff shorts, the Converse sneakers. It’ll be the first time the three of us go into town together, and I want to look our parts. Me, the young nanny; Sloane, the Brooklynite mother, polished, put together. After I sweep my hair back into a ponytail, I take the pair of plastic-rimmed glasses that I bought for the DMV picture out of my toiletry bag, put them on. It’s one more thing that separates the Violet I was before, from the one I am now.

As the three of us walk down the driveway to the car, I toss Sloane the car keys. “Will you drive?” I ask. “My contacts have been bothering me, and this prescription is a little out of date.”

“Of course.” She nods, catching the keys, turning to look at me. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

I nod. “I mostly wear contacts, but they’ve been uncomfortable recently. I thought I’d give my eyes a break.”

“Oh,” Sloane says, cocking her head. I can tell she’s not sure whether to believe me. She’s suspicious of me now, now that she thinks I lied to her about Jay.Hysterical.

From the passenger’s seat, I direct Sloane to the small main street of the island. It’s a cloudless, still day, the sky impossibly blue, air thick and warm. It’s busier than it was when we first arrived, which is good. More people to see us together, Sloane as me, me as Sloane.

The street is lined with a number of upscale clothing boutiques, their glass storefronts filled with well-dressed mannequins adorned with oversized leather handbags, long necklaces, bangle bracelets; home furnishing stores with island décor; sidewalk cafés and hand-churned ice cream parlors. We stroll up the street, one of Harper’s hands in each of ours, wandering in and out of shops without buying anything until we reach a children’s store, the mannequins small instead of adult-sized.

“Let’s look in here!” I suggest, opening the door for Harper and Sloane to go in.

Harper’s eyes light up when she sees the racks of brightly colored clothes. She sprints to a row of sequined T-shirts. “Look at this one! And this one! Oh, and this!” she says, flipping through the hangers.

In the end, Harper decides on a green dress with a rainbow-colored tulle skirt that flares when she twirls. She begs to wear it out of the store, but I convince her to re-dress in her shorts and T-shirt by promising her ice cream later.

As we start toward the register with the dress in hand, Harpersees a display of headbands. She dashes over to it, then turns back to us, her face lit with delight.

“Can I get one of these, too?” Harper asks, looking from me to Sloane. “Please, please, please?”

It’s my biggest weakness as a parent: saying yes, never no. I love the way Harper squeals when she’s happy, how her cheeks scrunch up, the little gap between her two front teeth peeking out when she smiles. I love making her that happy. Jay thinks I should be stricter, but I can’t, not when she clasps her hands together like that, her eyes shining.

“Sure, baby,” I say. Then, to Sloane, “It might take a while for her to pick one out. Why don’t I grab us a table at the restaurant across the way while you finish up with Harper?” I reach into my purse and take a credit card from my wallet, pass it to Sloane. “Just meet me there when you’re done. Do you mind?”

“No.” Sloane shakes her head. “Sounds good.” I like the idea of Sloane and Harper being seen together alone, a mother and her daughter on a shopping excursion.

I cross the street to a little café with a sidewalk patio. The waitress seats me in the back corner, away from the sidewalk, but with a clear view of the store across the street.

Ten minutes later, Sloane and Harper emerge from the store, and I lift my hand above my head, wave them over. They hold hands as they cross the street, shopping bag on the crook of Sloane’s elbow. They really do look like they could be mother and daughter, if you didn’t know any better, with their dark hair and heart-shaped faces.

“How’d it go?” I ask when they sit down, both Harper and Sloane across from me, next to each other. “Did you pick a headband?”

Harper nods. “It’s green to go with my dress,” she says. “The lady wrapped it up for me like a present.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” I smile at her. “Let’s order. I’m starving!”

I tell Sloane about Murph’s, the lobster joint I made reservations at for tonight, how it has the best reviews of all the restaurants on the island. It’s the place to be seen, a favorite of locals and tourists alike, where I’d go with my grandmother for any special occasion. In the red dress I bought for her, Sloane is sure to turn heads; she and Jay will be noticed by everyone.

At the end of lunch, when the server drops the bill at the table, I smile at Sloane. “You have my card, I think.”

“Oh, right, here,” she says, reaching into her purse, then extends my credit card across the table.

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