Olivia could be completely natural with men, whereas Harper was a little stiff and took a while to warm up. Olivia had brothers and therefore rode a skateboard and played video games. That Harper never played a Mario Brothers video game or a game console, or tried to skateboard, was the most scandalous thing of all to Olivia.
Now, Olivia loved to travel and shop and flirt. She worked as a journalist, and she saved her money to buy outfits to wear on her many dates. She was secretly planning her wedding even though she had no candidates. It annoyed her to no end that Harper didn’t spend all her money on outfits and seemed to want to work instead.
Olivia turned up on Christmas night at the kitchen door like she had done their entire childhood. She was wearing a Santa T-shirt, and her dark hair was piled on top of her head. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Thompson!” Olivia said to Harper’s dad. “Merry Christmas, Mommy!” she said to Harper’s mother. “Merry Christmas, Mimi,” she said to Harper’s grandmother.
“Now, you’re the girl who is friends with Harper,” Mimi said, as if she’d seen Olivia only once.
Olivia was not offended. “Don’t you remember, Mimi? You’ve met me, like, five thousand times.”
“You know, I think I have,” Mimi agreed, finally realizing the grown woman before her was Olivia, and earned herself a kiss on the cheek from Olivia for it.
They went to the living room so as not to disturb the readers. “Don’t look at me,” Olivia said to Harper, even though Harper wasn’t looking at her. “I ate a house today.” She fell onto the couch and kicked off her shoes. “How long are you in town?”
“Until New Year’s Day.” Harper settled onto the couch beside Olivia, her legs tucked under her.
“That is not enough time. I never get to see you anymore.”
“That’s not true. You were in Austin last month.”
“And you worked the whole time.” Olivia rubbed her eyes and yawned.
Her complaint about Harper was getting old. Harper worked too much, she never wanted to do anything fun. But to Olivia, doing something fun meant hitting the clubs and being universally admired while Harper nursed a drink. Not fun.
“Okay, I can’t stand it another minute. Let’s see this phone guy and his mom.”
Harper pulled out the phone. “First, you have to see this dog.”
Unfortunately, Truck was covered up by several more text messages from Jonah’s mother. Harper swiped open the phone to a barrage of them, including pictures of a cooked turkey, a table full of plates scraped clean, and a cobbler that made Harper’s mouth water. Your favorite!
“It’s weird,” Harper said as they scrolled through the texts. “I know this guy got a sweater for Christmas and his favorite is peach cobbler and his family is all jolly and happy and I’ve never even met him.”
“Can we finally see what he looks like?” Olivia was impatient.
“Girls?” Harper’s mother popped her head into her room. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“We won’t, Mommy!” Olivia assured her. Harper’s mother walked on and Olivia whispered, “Does she think we’re thirteen?”
Harper’s father was right behind her mother. He wandered into the living room with a pint of ice cream. He consumed a couple of healthy spoonfuls as they watched. “Dad?” Harper asked.
“Yep. Turn the lights off, Harper, will you?” he asked. “We’ve got to get up early tomorrow. We’ve going to drop Mimi off then do some shopping before our big trip.”
“Big trip? What big trip? I haven’t heard about a big trip.”
“Didn’t your mother tell you? We’re leaving for a Mediterranean cruise on Thursday. Two full weeks. Then we’re home for about a week and off to China with our travel group.”
They were leaving a full three days before she’d planned to return to Austin and wouldn’t be home until when? Why was it so hard for them to keep her in the loop?
“Night,” her father said, and wandered back into the hall.
“They’re going again, huh?” Olivia said. “No one travels as much as your parents.”
“I know.” Harper tried not to sound bitter, but . . . why couldn’t they just tell her these things?
“Phone guy,” Olivia reminded her.
“Okay, but first, phone dog,” Harper said. She picked up the phone, but just then it suddenly pinged, startling them. A calendar reminder popped up on the screen. Ed was all it said.
“Suspicious,” Olivia said.
“An appointment reminder is suspicious?”
“Forget the dog, let’s see him.”
Harper opened the phone and tapped on the photo box. Dozens of photos popped up and she scrolled through them, landing on the Halloween costume first. Olivia laughed. She pointed to another of the photo squares. “That one.”
Harper tapped on it to bring it to full screen. It was the same man from the Halloween photo, but in this one, he was dressed in street clothes and had his arm around a woman. He was grinning at the camera.
“Oh my God, Harper! He’s hot.”
He was hot. And he was charming in his texts. And online, because of course she’d checked out his Instagram and Twitter accounts (both tame) and had looked to see what he was streaming on Netflix (The Office—points for having a sense of humor). She had not, however, opened his e-mail. That was definitely an invasion of privacy, and she had to draw the line somewhere or question everything she thought she knew about herself.
The man smiling at them in this photo was tall and dark-haired, gray-eyed, and fit. He had a lovely smile, all white teeth and a single dimple. In the photo, his arm was draped lazily around the woman’s shoulders, his hand dangling just above her breast.
“Girlfriend?” Olivia mused. “Must be. Look how his arm is around her—that’s not a casual acquaintance.”
No, it didn’t seem so. How disappointing.
“But just because he has a girlfriend—”
“Or a wife,” Harper said.
“A girlfriend,” Olivia continued, “doesn’t mean he’s not open to meeting other people, you know.”
Harper sputtered a laugh. “That’s exactly what a girlfriend means. It means you have committed, that you are not open to meeting other girls. And second, why are we having this conversation? It’s not like I have time to even think about him.”
“No one is that busy. Literally no one!”
Harper groaned. “I know, I know, I don’t date enough, I don’t want a boyfriend enough, I’m not like you.”