Page 43 of Grump Hard
HOLLY: Of course, you should sing! I bet you have a lovely voice.
LUKE: That’s a bet you would lose.
HOLLY: We’ll see. Sleep well, Grumps. Sending healing vibes your way.
* * *
By Monday night, I feel a marked improvement. By Tuesday morning, I wake up feeling almost human.
Not entirely human—my body still aches—but human enough to shower, start a load of laundry, and join the others downstairs for an early breakfast.
Thankfully, the rest of the Ratcliffe plague crew seems to be in much better spirits as well.
While Ashton makes omelets to celebrate and Bran starts another pot of coffee, I pop into the living room to shoot Holly an update—Feeling much better this morning and looking forward to caroling tomorrow night if the invitation still stands.
She texts back almost instantly. Of course, it does! Hurray! I’ll text you all the details tomorrow. I’m at the vet’s office, shooting portraits of hamsters in tiny Santa hats and feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. I really do love my job!
Smiling, I assure her, Of course, no rush. And that’s probably why you’re so good at it. Have a great day.
She shoots back?—
After a beat of hesitation, I send a heart in return, which Elliot—who has appeared behind me without me noticing—proceeds to tease me about as we head back into the kitchen.
“Shut up,” I warn, leading the way. “It’s just an emoji.”
“Just an emoji! Just,” Elliot practically screeches. “Ashton, Luke said the emoji he sent is just an emoji.”
“What!?” Ashton screeches back. “An emoji? I didn’t think you knew how to use emojis, Luke. You never send emojis.”
“Luke’s too dignified for emojis,” Bran says, adding creamer to his fresh cup of coffee. “He disdains an emoji. And I, for one, approve. When I grow up, I’m going to disdain emojis, too.”
“I don’t think he disdains them anymore,” Elliot says, in that smug way of his that’s starting to drive me insane.
“I love emojis,” Ashton says. “I wish there were even more to choose from. I wish they had an emoji for when your wine runs out too soon. And for twerking. And for that moment when Homer backs into the hedge.”
I scowl. “What?”
“You know, Homer and the hedge,” she repeats as if that should explain it. “The meme?”
“He thinks you’re talking about the Greek Homer,” Elliot says. Correctly.
Bran snorts in thinly veiled amusement as Ashton’s mouth rounds into a perfect O of surprise.
“I am not ancient, out of touch, and no fun.” I point a warning finger around the kitchen. “And even if I am, I took care of all of you for days, even when I was sick, so…you can’t make fun of me. I won’t allow it.”
Ashton grins. Widely.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
She shakes her head, still grinning. “Nothing, you’re just having trouble being cranky, aren’t you? Even a little bit cranky.”
I scowl, half-heartedly. “I am not.”
“It was a lovey dovey one, wasn’t it?” Ashton asks Elliot. “The emoji?”
Elliot nods. “It was.”
Ashton claps her hands. “Oh, yay! You’re falling in love! The signs were all there! I knew it!”
