Page 110 of Dear Pink

She points to a huge canvas covered in marker, crayon, and way too much glue.

“Interesting piece,” I say.

“It’s like your books.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

I’m writing book seven ofThe History Girls. The series took off and became an overnight bestseller. When the first book was published, I changed the girls’ names from Libby and Hannah to Roxy and Raven. They still resemble us, but the new names suit them better as fictional renegades. I never imagined my graphic novels would inspire young girls to make their own mark on history, but I receive tons of encouraging fan mail. It’s been a blast.

“Will we goes to the park today?” Isabelle yanks on shorts and a sparkly unicorn T-shirt.

“Let’s get breakfast first.”

Gabe pokes his head in the door. “How about breakfast at the park? I packed the cooler and can be ready in five. You guys?”

Isabelle and I glance at one another. “Five it is,” I say.

Minutes later, Isabelle sits proudly on her purple bike. She’s head to toe in purple, her favorite color.

“I’ll hold Lolly’s leash.” I jump on my pink bike and crack up at Lolly’s howl in agreement. Though she’s no spring chicken, she’s always ready for a trip to the park.

The four of us ride down the street, and I can’t help but marvel at my life. I’m an artist, an author, a wife, and a mother. Isabelle glances over and beams at me. She’s a little spitfire, with fire engine hair to match. With Gabe’s indigo eyes and my pale skin, she takes your breath away. The Russo family worships her, and she revels in the attention.

“Daddy, watch me,” she says, pedaling as fast as her legs can move. Gabe takes off after her.

“She’s fast,” Gabe pants, pretending to be out of breath when he stops in front of me. He kisses my nose and Isabelle giggles. “Let’s throw our blanket under our favorite, old tree.”

I nod and unload a treasure of treats. Gabe packed croissants, coffee, fruit cups, and various cheeses. “Wow. This looks delicious.”

“Thought we deserved a fun morning treat on such a beautiful day.”

“We do.” I tug his hand, dragging him onto the blanket with me. We watch Isabelle loop around us on her bike.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Gabe asks, nuzzling my ear.

“Hmm. I have some dirty ideas.”

He takes out his phone and holds a hand to my lips, hushing me. “Mom, can Isabelle come over and play today?”

“A little obvious, don’t you think?” I whisper. He shrugs and squeezes my thigh.

“Great. We’ll be over with her shortly. Yeah, we’re coming to dinner.”

“She must suspect our devious intentions,” I say after he hangs up the phone.

“It doesn’t matter. She loves being with her.” He kisses me hard on the lips and reaches under my shirt.

I jerk his hand out, laughing. “Gabe, we’re in a park.”

“When has public indecency stopped us before?”

I blush. “But we’re parents.”

He kisses me. “Horny ones.”

“Okay. Let’s get Isabelle so we can eat.”

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