Page 64 of The Vacation Mix-Up
I follow her eager steps until we’re standing outside the ice cream bar, where I order vanilla, even though I want butter pecan.
“Well?” Her eyebrows rise in anticipation as I spoon some into my mouth.
Holy shit!
I spoon some more, no words needed.
“Told you,” she singsongs. “It’s the stuff of miracles, or sorcery. It must be.”
“I think you’re right. This is the nicest vanilla ice cream I’ve ever had. Better than Mrs. Parberry’s.”
“Who’s Mrs. Parberry?”
“She owns an ice cream parlor where I live. And thanks to Poppy, I’ve had my fair share of the stuff.”
We continue strolling along the deck, adjacent to the railing, my cup almost empty, her cone dripping onto her fingers. She sucks them into her mouth, and I fight to keep my thoughts clean.
“So what’s your favorite piece of furniture you’ve built so far?” she asks.
“My sister’s rocking chair.”
“A rocking chair? How lovely.”
“I built it for her when she was pregnant.”
“Aww. That’s sweet.”
I shrug, feeling proud but strangely bashful. “I also built Poppy’s crib.”
“You’re a handy sibling to have for a mother-to-be.”
“I help with furniture; she helps with chemistry-based trivia.”
Riles nudges my shoulder with hers. “Speaking of trivia, I owe you an apology.”
I smirk. She does, but I was happy it let it slide.
“I should’ve listened to you when you said it wasn’t Phil Collins. I can’t believe I got that wrong.”
“I can’t believe you got that wrong as well.”
“Hey!”
“I’m kidding. It was an easy mistake.”
“More like a stupid mistake.”
“Ease up, Riles.” I stop by a trash can and toss my empty cup inside. “It’s just a silly trivia question.”
“Perhaps.” She pops the last of her cone into her mouth. “But you owe me an apology too.”
“Me?” I run my hand over my beard just in case it collected some ice cream. “What for?”
“You were wrong about the red M&M, and I was right.”
I stare at her, dumbfounded.Is she serious?
When she doesn’t laugh and say she’s joking, I’m left with no other option than to say, “Sorry?”
