Page 107 of Best Frenemies

In an instant, like a crashing waterfall, it all comes together in my mind.

And there’s only one man who can help me pull it off.

Immediately, I pull my phone out of my pocket and type out a text—I need your help with something REALLY important. The most important thing of my life, actually.

An answer comes back immediately. And my plan is officially in motion.

Sunday, April 24th

Katy

The Staten Island Ferry crowd is bigger than I’d expect for a Sunday afternoon, and my mass-gathering claustrophobia is amped up to an eleven thanks to the hot flashes I’ve been having all morning.

But my role today is to be the dutiful daughter and granddaughter, so without complaint, I follow my parents and Gran down the stairs as she leads us toward the very spot on the bottom deck where she and my granddad first met.

As hard as today is for me, given my current—still secret—with-child condition, I can’t even imagine how hard it is for Gran.

She looks so small and fragile with the urn in her hands, and the emotion is almost too much for me to bear. Tears are already pricking my eyes, and we haven’t even started yet.

Just breathe, I coach myself, afraid that I’m going to have the kind of hormonal meltdown that will show my pregnancy cards to my family.Your granddad’s burial at sea is not the time to reveal this kind of news.

Obviously, I’m going to have to tell my family at some point—when the risk of thunder-stealing my gran is off the table—but, even then, it feels wrong to do so without first talking to Mack.

My stomach turns.

The mere thought of how he might react and the fear that’s involved in that sours the breakfast I just ate with my family at Sarabeth’s and threatens to bring it back for a second showing.

I swallow hard against the nausea that won’t quit and shuffle around a group of tourists who already have their cameras out and are snapping photos.

“This is it!” Gran shouts as she steps through the doors and onto the outside deck. She stops right in front of a bench that’s smack-dab in the middle.

The ferry horn honks, indicating its imminent departure, and my mom and dad and I come to a stop right beside Gran.

But instead of focusing on this emotional moment with his mother, my dad decides now is the time to pull his cell out of his pocket. His fingers type furiously across the screen, and my mother nudges him with her elbow. “Kai,” she whispers. “Put your phone away.”

“In a minute, sweets,” he states but doesn’t lift his eyes away from the screen.

The boat’s engine roars to life as we leave the harbor, and my gran steps toward the deck railing with my granddad’s urn in her petite hands. My mother and I follow her, but when I glance over my shoulder, I see my dad is still busy with his stupid device.

Are you freaking kidding me?

“Dad.” I join my mother’s quiet outrage. “Come up here.”

“Just a sec, Katybug.”

My gran is too busy thinking about her beloved husband, but my mom’s eyes now look like they might make an actual departure from her face.

“Kai.”

“Almost done,” he says, and I honestly think my mom might toss him and his phone in the water before Gran has a chance to dump the urn.

But a moment later, he’s shoving it back into his pocket with a smile and looking over his shoulder toward the doors that lead back inside the ferry.

What on earth is he doing?

“Harry, I loved you my whole life,” Gran starts to announce toward the water, and I’m torn between listening to her emotional words and trying to understand why my dad is acting like such a fool. “For sixty years, you were my everything. For sixty years, I was madly in love with your laugh and your smile—”

“There he is!” my dad shouts, making Gran stop midsentence and practically trampling all over her memories of her beloved husband.

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