Page 126 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“No,” I admit.
“It’s one thing to catch your breath. It’s another to get stuck on an inhale.” She puts the pan of rolls back in the oven. “Your hopes and dreams? Have those changed?”
I think about Mike. My mind flashes to a possible future of making cookies with him in his kitchen. To hosting family andfriends on his deck. To his arm around my shoulders, his lips pressed to my hair. His hand resting on mine as we fall asleep. “Maybe.”
“Why not start there?” She sets the timer on her phone. “Ten more minutes, and the rolls will be ready. You can take some of them up to Del Mar with my compliments.”
I play with Barty as Mrs. Miller packs up the rolls and tells me about her son and daughter-in-law and the baby due this spring. I hear the story of the first time she met my brother and how he strong-armed an invite to a family barbecue, much to Sarah’s mortification. And I laugh.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Miller.”
“Janice, please.” She hands me the basket of rolls. “Give my best to your parents.”
“I will.”
“And, Beatrice.”
I turn.
“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re a darn good lawyer. You’ll find your way.”
By the time I get to Del Mar, appetizers are fully under way. Portia and Julie greet me at the door.
“Are Adam and Sarah here?” I ask.
“In the back.” Julie pulls me in for a hug. “They’re playing pickleball with Dad and Ryan.”
Portia takes the basket of rolls from me. “Uncle Drew and Eaton finally persuaded Granny to join them in the pool. These rolls smell amazing.”
“I know.” It was all I could do not to shovel five of them into my mouth on the drive over. “So do we like her? Or do we love her?”
“Sarah?” Portia starts laughing. “We freaking worship her. If I start acting like a fool—”
I grab a plate and pile cheese and other charcuteries onto it. “Like you did at Eaton’s birthday?”
Portia cocks her head and pulls me in for a hug. “Exactly. If I start acting like a fool, like I did at Eaton’s birthday, stop me by any means necessary.” She chews her lip. “I am sorry. Can I make it up to you?”
“Oh, I know,” Julie says, bringing us each a glass of apple cider. “When Mom brings out her tarot cards, you can be the first sacrificial offering.”
Portia whimpers.
“Actually, I was going to take the tarot fall tonight,” I say.
“Thank heavens.” Portia steals a piece of cheese from my plate. “We don’t want to scare Sarah away.”
“I’ve got a plan,” I say around a mouthful of gouda. “Just follow my lead.”
I can’t help but beam when I see Sarah with Adam. They’re inseparable, holding hands, leaning against each other. I see Sarah playfully rib Adam a couple of times at dinner, and there’s no shortage of teasing from either of them throughout the conversation. Absolutely nothing about their affection feels awkward or performative.
I know this is my first time meeting her, but I adore her. She’s everything Adam and my father said, and she loves my brother. What more could you ask for in a potential sister-in-law?
Look at me rooting for the endgame.
“We brought dessert,” Adam says proudly as dinner is winding down.
“Yes, Adam’s job was to buy the ice cream,” Sarah says.
I laugh. “Then you know about his baking addiction and haven’t been scared away?”
