Page 2 of Silver Fox's Secret Baby

He sighs. “Why did I only have girls?”

We all laugh as Kira and Dad head out into the backyard to start the grilling.

Dad wouldn’t know what to do with boys and that’s a fact. He’s the best girl dad there is and has set the standard high for men. Which is why none of us are married or even in a relationship. A good man is hard to come by.

A good relationship, though? I think it’s probably impossible. I thought Mom and Dad were the textbook definition of a perfect couple. And then…everything fell apart. That trauma of seeing a good relationship sour has turned me into a heretic of love.

Well, that and life. I left the US to get away from my problems. Turns out that no matter where you go, problems happen, so now I’m back.

Sometimes, I just find it easier to believe that love isn’t real. It’s just a fairy tale made up by people who are living in blissful ignorance.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t still want to try and find a love that really is as deep as I thought my parents’ relationship was. That’s the fucked-up thing about life. You can know something is bad for you and still want it. Like alcohol or cigarettes. Love is the exact same thing in my eyes.

I try to go back to the last of the melon, but I can feel Gillian glaring at me. “Have something to say, Gilly?”

She huffs. “No.”

“Gillian…” Dana says warningly.

“Just wonder if you’ll ever grow up,” Gillian says at half-volume.

I scoff, “Gilly, get that stick out of your–”

“Harley!” Amy interrupts, eyes wide in alarm. She bobs her head toward Stella. “Tender ears…”

I look at sweet little Stella, a near carbon copy of Gillian. “Honey, could you do me a favor and start watching for cars to pull up in the front?”

“A job?!” Stella asks excitedly.

I go over to her and help her down from the counter. “Animportantjob.”

“Like on your show!”

“Exactly. Now–” I say as I hustle her out of the room. “Go wait at the window and the second you see a car pull up, run your little butt in here and cry out, ‘Someone’s here!’”

Stella doesn’t get another word in edgewise before I’ve shooed her out the door. As soon as it’s closed, I turn back to my sisters and pick up where I left off. “Okay,nowI can say what I really mean, which is, Gillian, get that stick out of your– “

“You seriously kicked my daughter out of the room so that you could swear? Really mature, Harley,” Gillian snaps.

“You want to talk about maturity? You can’t even look at a rack of ribs without breaking out into hysterics,” I reply.

She clenches her fists at her sides. I love riling Gillian up. Just the little sister in me, I guess. She’s such an easy target. And, it’s totally counter to her “peace and love” attitude. “If you knew half of what I did about the meat industry, you would–”

“I know plenty!”

“Just because you’vetalkedto a butcher on your podcast one time–”

“It’s not a podcast! It’s a radio show!” I host a radio show five days a week on the public radio station calledSomeone’s Gotta Do It.Each week, I pick an occupation to demystify to my listeners. I’ve covered so many jobs from baristas to oil barons, crossword creators to cowhands, nephrologists to nail technicians. And, yes, a butcher.

Gillian lets out a high-pitched grunt. “Ugh! Whatever!”

“Need I remind you about the pamphlets on animal cruelty you passed around the dinner table when I wasliterallynine years old and the ‘meat is murder’ shirt you wore for three months straight until Mom made you throw it out?”

“Okay, that’senough,” Dana says firmly, stepping in front of me. “Okay, Harley? That’s enough.”

I take a deep breath and cross my arms over my chest. I’m not sure if she’s trying to stop us from fighting or if she’s cut the conversation short because I’ve mentioned Mom. Both would be valid.

Dana continues, her voice measured and expression calm. No wonder she’s a grief counselor. She’s grace under fire embodied. “Gillian, Harley’s going to be Harley. And Harley, Gillian’s going to be–”

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