Page 142 of Shortcake
“Jim,” I said. “Although he doesn’t always have the best girl advice.”
“Uncle Jim? Donotcall him about Addy. I once saw him making out with a girl outside of our house, put her in a cab, then meet up with another girl five minutes later.”
I groaned.Dammit, Jim. What the hell was he doing making out with women in front of our Brooklyn house, anyway?
“Uncle Jim is not a role model for you,” Harper continued, and I couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“I never said he was.”
“Okay, fine,” she said. “He’s not a good confidant, either. He’ll just tell you girls are a dime a dozen or something stupid like that. So who else do you talk to?”
“I guess… no one. Except Grandma. After you were born, she was sort of the person I leaned on the most. And vice versa.”
Harper’s mouth quirked into a smirk. “Okay. So, what would grandma tell you if she was here right now?”
I chuckled and shook my head, pulling the fishing line out of the water to add more bait to the end. “I think she’d tell me I was being annoyingly stubborn.”
I dipped my line back in the water and stared at the ripples arching away from our boat.
“Actually,” Harper giggled, “I think she’d say you were being a real Mr. Darcy. And Addy issoLizzie.”
My eyes cut to Harper. “You finished readingPride and Prejudice?”
Biting her bottom lip in that goofy way of hers, her sparkling indigo eyes lifted to meet mine. “It was so good. I can see why Grandma loved it so much. I just… I wish I had read it sooner so I could have talked with her about it. We have to give an oral report on one of our summer books… and I want to do that one. In tribute to Grandma.”
“Aw, kid.” I leaned over and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She snuggled into me with a sigh. “Grandma would love that you’re doing that for her.”
“You know what else Grandma would love?” Harper asked. “Addy.”
I chuckled, the painful lump in my throat softening. “Oh, God, she would, wouldn’t she?”
“Oh yeah. She’d findallthe comparisons to Lizzie. I think she would even have gotten a kick out of watching you two argue.”
This time, my laugh barked out of me. “She would have made popcorn and watched it like a movie. Addy sure knew how to throw down a fight, didn’t she?”
“She isscarywhen she’s mad,” Harper said, nodding in agreement.
“I love her angry face, though. She gets these wrinkles between her eyes and her mouth dips cartoonishly.” I chuckled, remembering Addy aiming that scowl directly at me several times this summer.
“You love her angry face… or you just plain loveher?”
Dammit, Harper. How does she do that?
Before I could answer, she tapped the fishing rod. Yet another silent reminder of our truth stick.
“Fine. Yes, I love her, okay?” I admitted begrudgingly.
“Thenapologizeto her. Go get her back!”
“I don’t know, Turkey. I’m not even sure she wants to hear from me at this point. I’m not proud of my actions the night Addy and I broke up.” Though I didn’t want to admit it to Harper, I was really harsh to her. Unnecessarily harsh. In my head, it was the only way to fully break ties.
“Not proud of your actions, but too proud to apologize?” She looked coyly up at me then shrugged. “Just saying. Mr. Darcy made amends in the end. You should, too.”
My face twisted with her thought.
Amends. That was the key. Not just an apology… but action that proved my love for her.
I kissed Harper’s head, then shoved the fishing rod into her hands and reached for the oar.
