Page 134 of Go Find Less

“Yes.” She sighs, reaching up to pat my cheek while she puts the gift in the backseat.

“I apologize in advance for any undue stress I may cause you, then.” I’m a little scared to ask what she means, but before I can, she plops out of the car, pulling her curls to one side as she adjusts her purse on one shoulder. As I pull myself out of my seat, I see her nervously smoothing over her waist, glancing around, and then adjusting her chest. I bite my lips to keep from smiling. “Oh, shut it.” Even with that tone, she holds her hand out to me, and in what’s become my new normal, I take it, letting her lead me out of the garage and into the warm late May air. I forget, sometimes, that this was her alma mater, too. Not just Fred and Frannie’s. She probably knows these streets better than I do.

And she proves it, when, while crossing the road to get to the colosseum from the parking garage, she J-walks diagonally through the intersection.

“Jesus,” I call after her as she nearly jogs. “That’s not how those work.” Piper snorts, walking backwards as she nears the sidewalk at the other corner.

“How would you know, Westfall? Maybe here in Clifton, we all walk across intersections-"

But she doesn’t finish, because the back of her heel catches the curb and she nearly tumbles backwards. I watch her face flash with panic and reach out my arm, catching her around the waist before she can truly fall.

“That’s what you get for calling me Westfall,Delmonico.” Her face scrunches up at me, but her hand’s still gripping my upper arm through my suit jacket - one I’m regretting putting on, now that it’s a sauna out here.

“I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“Now you see how I feel.” I pull her up to standing, and she adjusts again, like she’s fallen into a pile of dog hair or burrs. I pick at an imaginary Bex hair and she almost thanks me, before realizing that I’m teasing and smacks my arm.

“Hey, that’s my job!” We both turn to see Frannie half-running across the intersection, the same way Piper had, and the only saving grace is that Greta is not with her.

“You two are going to kill me,” I state plainly, looking between them.

“What’d I do?” Frannie asks, breathing jagged as she catches up to us.

“I was just telling Fitz that it’s an unofficial tradition to completely disregard crosswalks on campus.” My sister nods.

“It’s true.”

“True like the white raccoon?” I ask, and they stare at me. I’d been teasing, only bringing up the albino raccoon as a joke, the sort of unofficial mascot of LSSU that I knew had several fan pages and a variety of inside jokes that I never quite understood.

“We never joke about Lucky,” Piper says, one hand to her chest.

Oh god, she’s being serious.

“Lucky?” I feel my brows knit together. “It has a name?”

“It has a family.” Frannie’s voice is loud enough to garner attention from the people walking in front of us on the sidewalk, who turn briefly. “Of course it’s got a name, Will.”

These women are going to be the death of me, and that’s all I can think as we make it through security. It does, in fact, take 20 minutes, which I point out to Piper before we trek to the other side of the arena where my parents are already seated in the VIP section, right above where the big WHG logo is plastered around the sideboard.

“Easy to spot,” Piper mutters to me, and I smile, squeezing her hand when we spy Paula waving like a mad woman. When we finally make it over, Frannie slides into the row behind them, giving Paula a hug over the seat while I shake Dad’s hand. He’s his usual self, a little terse, phone in one hand, but he gives Piper that same tight-lipped smile he’d had for her the other day at the office.

It took everything in me not to lay into him on Thursday, mostly for how uncomfortable I know Piper must have been meeting him for the first time while also interviewing for a job. There’d been no warning, just hurricaine CW heading out for destruction. In its path? My relationship. The only reason I didn’t let him have it was Frannie, who assured me that despite his thorough grilling, Piper held her own against my father on questions that would have made other people crumble.

He didn’t really know, or had forgotten, what this woman had gone through. A few questions about working in the business of pretty undergarments wasn’t about to phase her.

“Piper!” Paula holds out her arms, and tentatively, Piper steps into them, letting my stepmother embrace her like she had Frannie. “It’s so good to see you, sweetie.” She pulls back, taking one of Piper’s loose curls in her fingers. “You look so good.” Paula grins. “So happy.”

I can’t help but notice the glance Piper shoots me before answering, “I am.”

Shit. My heart gives a little jump at that.

“It’s good to see you again,” Dad says, adjusting the leg of his pants as he sits back down in the stadium chair, turning to look at us.

“Surprised you didn’t scare her away.” Paula’s voice is light, but there’s an edge to it that after years of listening in on their conversations, I pick up on immediately. As we sit down, Frannie looks at me over Piper’s shoulders. She must have said something to her mom.

“I would hope it’ll take more than one conversation to scare someone away.” Dad raises one graying eyebrow at his wife, then back at me.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, what I want to say about that very conversation, but from behind us I hear “Shit, shit, sorry we’re late!” right as the commencement music starts, and I pivot in my seat to see José, Mateo, and Andrea jogging down the stairs.

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