Page 7 of Love Me Like It's Real
“It’s not nine,” Elsa tells her sister with a reassuring pat on the knee. “So…about that favor.”
I can feel my daughter’s intense gaze on the rearview mirror but I can also smell another talking-to from the monster-monitor so I drive away while I still have some grace with the pick-up line and money in my bank account.
“I didn’t agree to a favor,” I say once we’ve cleared the school area.
“But you were late.”
“I’m late every other day, sweetie. If I exchanged every tardiness for a favor you’d be the boss of me.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Elsa says.
“That’s because you’re nine.”
“What’s wrong with being nine?” Elsa asks.
“It’s not thirty-one,” I say pointedly.
“God, Poppy. You don’t have to remind us you’re old!” Elsa groans.
I gasp. “You’re never getting a favor if you keep calling me old.”
“Not fair.”
I shrug. “What can I say? I’m your pop, I make the rules.”
“So not fair,” Arya agrees and crosses her arms.
“I was just going to ask if we can stop by Caspian’s. Just so you know,” Elsa says.
“Now that, Icando. I need to pay him for today.”
As we cross the town center I park up opposite Special Blend and walk in while Caspian is talking to an older woman who could have been a fashion model, and still is for all I know.
She’s gorgeous and elegant with a sheer white bob and striking blue eyes.
“Thank you so much, darling. It’s going to be amazing, you’ll see. And it will bring lots of business to your coffeeshop.”
Caspian thanks her and takes a roll of paper from her as she makes her way out the door with a box of baked goods that Caspian most definitely pushed on her and I have a good idea where they’re going to end up.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girls!” Caspian walks around the counter and Elsa and Arya run up to him to give him a hug. “How about a hot cocoa on the house?”
“Extra marshmallows,” Elsa says with a big smile.
“And rainbow sprinkles!” Arya exclaims.
I groan.
Bedtime is going to be a blast, isn’t it?
The girls rush to the counter so they can watch Caspian make their cocoas and I lean on the register.
“What was that about?” I ask him, looking in the direction of the woman who’s just left.
“Oh that? Agnes is on the Season of Love committee and she just stopped by to ask me if I’d like to participate this year.”
“‘Season of Love’?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah. She wants me to turn the book nook in the back into a gift exchange for Valentine’s or something. I didn’t exactly understand. And she wants me to put some posters up for the speed-dating event at The Striped Maple.” He glances at the roll of paper on the counter and I unroll it with a groan.
