Page 53 of The Game Is Afoot

And the glittery rainbow horn Jack got painted on his forehead after Pearl sat in the chair of the airbrush tattoo lady—who she specifically requested, for the record—and immediately got cold feet. She got a matching one right after, and they looked socute, I didn’t have the heart to tell Jack they last for twenty-four to seventy-two hours.

Mr. Forest led the kids in a rousing rendition of “I’m a Believer,” and when the girls took turns grabbing the mic, Pearl outshined Anabella by far. Silent satisfaction warmed me up like a cup of hot cocoa. Not at a seven-year-old’s embarrassment, of course—I’m not a monster!—but at Trisha’s seething rage.

There was also Jasmine pretending to give my dad an exclusive interview, with the big boom mic and headset he acquired god knows when. And the way his face squinted up as he slowly realized she wasn’t giving him new details about the case, but the plot ofThe Bodyguard, so he laughed and swatted her away with “Man, forget you!”

I want to remember the jolt of pure bliss that hit Pearl as she opened up each present. Never mind that she conveniently forgot our plan was to open them up after everyone left. That deep dimple, her eyes big and sparkling like a Disney woodland creature, as she screamed with the utmost sincerity, “Walkie-talkies! This is what I’ve always wanted!” Even though I’m completely sure she’s never mentioned walkie-talkies in her life. If that bliss could be bottled up and sold as an antidepressant, I swear—wars could end, the world would heal.

And my favorite moment came at the end of the party, as Pearl leaned over her wonky Shrek-rainbow-donkey cake because the lady at the grocery store bakery was (understandably) confused. She had her eyes squeezed tight, taking her time to think of her perfect wish, and I looked over her head at Corey. Our eyes met in the warm glow of her candles, and it was like everything ugly and hard and hidden between us disappeared, at least for now, because look at this beautiful girl we made together.

“This is the best day of my life,” Pearl whispered. Then she blew out her candles and everyone cheered.

—

And then there’s the not-so-goodparts that I’m also cataloguing tonight.

Bethany cornered me right after I finished dishing out Costco pizza and was just about to sit down with my own slice.

“I talked to your dad about your mom,” she said, leaning in too close and caressing my arm. She smelled like patchouli and whatever that grass is they have behind the counter in smoothie shops. Her eyes were wet as if she’d just been crying. “It came up naturally. I was asking him what made you so defensive and suspicious of human connection, and of course it’s the mother wound. I don’t know why I didn’t recognize it before. I’m so sorry, Mavis. Maybe that’s why we got off on the wrong foot. I trigger thoughts of that deep loss in your journey.”

I froze, teetering between whichReal Housewivesplay I should employ, glass-smashing or table-flipping, and she used that as an opportunity to make it much worse.

“What do you think she would want for you? You know what I think? I think she would want you to have peace in your life.” She pressed her lips together, and one single tear broke free, trailing down her cheek. “And that’s why I want to invite you to my self-care party on Wednesday. No pressure for anything more and free of charge! Like the boot camp class you…hopped on into this week. I know you may think it isn’t your thing, but I just feel so called to offer this to you. I think it’ll bring you so much peace and healing.”

I looked around, seeing who was about to witness some glass-smashingandtable-flipping (plus maybe some metaphorical wig-tugging, too), and that’s when I noticed my dad. Smiling. Holding two thumbs up.

“Your dad agreed that some self-care would bereallybeneficial for you.”

“Um. He did?”

And that was enough of a confirmation (or maybe she saw the spirit of Shereé shining through in my eyes) because she wiped her tears and was up in a second.

“I’ll send you the Paperless Post! Can’t wait!”

I walked over to my dad, and he winked. “You’re welcome, Veronica.”

“Why would you volunteer me for that scam party? And who is Veronica?”

“You are, and I’m Keith. Have you seenVeronica Mars? Bert let me borrow his season one box set.” He shrugged. “I saw her name on your murder board and figured this would be the perfect opportunity for you to get some of those questions answered. And then tell me, so I can put it on my show.”

He brushed off both his shoulders. “Keith Mars and Keith Morrison.” And then he strutted away, as if he didn’t just commit me to an evening in my own personal hell.

Thatwould’ve been plenty bad enough for one afternoon. But later, when I was stealing a moment to catch my breath as Corey led the attack on the unicorn piñata, Derek waved to me from behind the kitchen door that leads into the laundry room, one finger to his lips.

“I know exactly what that was, Alexander, and it was not fucking cute. You think you can cross me? You think this is a game?”

I recognized the venomous whisper immediately. Trisha. But who was Alexander? And why was she talking to him like that?

“I will fucking destroy you. I will set fire to your sad little life and dance on the motherfucking ashes.”

My eyes worriedly shot to Derek. Should he be hearing this?But his face was alight with the laughter he was holding in. He scooted slightly, making room for me to see in the slight opening of the door hinge. And there was Mr. Forest in his sweater vest, with the ukulele he brought to play clutched to his chest as a shield. Trisha is only an inch or two taller than him, but it may as well be ten feet with the way he was cowering.

“Mrs. Holbrook, I was just giving another child a chance to shine at their own birthday party. Not everything is about Anabella—”

“And that is where you’re wrong. We had a deal here, and because you’ve now attempted tosabotagethe deal, you are going to give me something else. Anabella says there’s another solo she wants. In that “N.Y.C.” song. She says there’s a star in it, and Anabella is supposed to be theonlystar.”

“Anabella alreadyhasa part in that song. And she has more solos than any other child—”

“Because that is what she deserves. Now you’re going to give her this solo, whatever it is. And if you don’t, then everyone is going to know what happened that Memorial Day weekend in Downey. Am I clear?”

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