Page 7 of Flirty Pucking Wolf

Miranda and I settle in but don’t converse other than basic questions like if I enjoyed the game and how entertaining the Shifty mascot is. She shows me a video from when he was first introduced to the public and there was a speaker malfunction, so it sounded like the little girl announcing his name said Shitty instead of Shifty. Thinking back to the glitter-poop cannon built into his suit, I can see they’re leaning into that identity. It’s hilarious.

Takeoff is uneventful, and once we’re at altitude, Stella brings us our hot cocoas and a plate of snickerdoodles to share. Snickerdoodles are my weakness, and I can’t resist closing my eyes as I chew. She heated the cookies, and I savor the cinnamon and sugar melting on my tongue. I feel Miranda’s eyes on me, so I open mine and grin at her.

“Remember all those times we’dhelpSiobhan with the baking, and she’d give us a treat?” I say, making air quotes when I say “help.” We were a hindrance, but our family’s cook was a sweetheart who baked like a dream. She’s retired now, with a passel of grandkids she lives to spoil.

Miranda sighs. “I loved spending time with you doing that.” She turns in her seat to face me. Uh-oh, this is it.

“Soph, what happened? We were such great friends, but lately, it feels like you’re mad at me. If I offended or hurt you, I don’t know why or how. I love you and want to make up for whatever I did.”

Tears flood my eyes, and I swallow hard and maneuver to rest my back against the armrest and face Miranda. This needs to be done face-to-face. Here we go. Truth time.

“Oh, Miranda, I’m sorry. You did nothing wrong. I wish I could blame everything on your narcissistic psychopath of a mother, but part of it was, I was jealous of you.”

Her jaw drops. I guess that never occurred to her. Of course not, because she’s a good person. She reaches out and takes my clammy hand, and I cringe at my sweaty palm, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.

“Jealous of me? Why? You’re beautiful and talented. You have a wonderful family that loves you.” She gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Sophie, you have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

I squeeze her fingers. “I know I’m blessed, and I’m grateful for that. But I’m selfish. Growing up, everyone loved you. You were this perfect little girl that everyone adored. I’m pretty sure you’re my mother’s favorite child.”

Miranda giggles like that’s absurd.

“I’m not kidding. The two of you just get each other in a way that she and I don’t. I don’t know if we’re too similar or too different or a bit of both, but it can be difficult.” I shrug. “I always wanted her attention, and as her only daughter, I felt it was my right. But she was focused on you a lot, and I was jealous. Knowing what we know now, and with whatever smidgeon of wisdom adulthood has given me, I’m so grateful she was there for you. But sometimes I wanted it to be just me and her, and it wasn’t, because you were included.” I can’t hold back the tears now streaming down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Miranda.”

She squeezes my hand gently, and I feel it around my heart. “Sophie, that’s understandable. We were children and, of course you wanted your mother’s attention and to be separate from your brothers. I’m sorry I intruded. Things should’ve been different for both of us.”

I wipe my nose with the napkin Stella gave me with the cocoa and give a watery laugh.

“I hate calling her your mother, so I’m calling her Doreen from now on. Doreen recognized how I felt and used that to drive a wedge between me and you. Between me and my family, too. I can see now how she manipulated me. How she used that damn tea.”

“It’s scary,” Miranda says, grabbing her own napkin to wipe her eyes.

It’s terrifying thinking how Doreen could have poisoned either of us and the horrible situations she could have put Miranda in. Thank goodness Miranda was parked in all those boarding schools, considering what could’ve happened if she lived with that viper.

“I’ll get you tissues,” Stella says, checking in on us. I guess our faces tell the tale.

“I’m sorry too, Sophie. We were both victims. Can we put that behind us and just start again? I love you, and you’ve been like the sister I’ve always wanted. I don’t want what happened to come between us.”

Stella returns with the tissues, and we thank her. After we both take a moment to wipe our faces—I am so grateful for waterproof mascara—and declare each other beautiful, we each grab a cookie and settle in our seats.

I grin. “I want to move forward in our friendship and be close again. I would love to have you as a sister.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Or a sister-in-law.”

Miranda blinks rapidly. Shit. I didn’t mean to make her cry. I’m trying to make things better, not tear us apart again. I lean toward her, and I hope she can tell I’m speaking from the heart.

“Declan loves you. He wasn’t under any spells or the influence of potions or anything.”

“I asked him to give me space.” She speaks softly to her hands, neatly folded across the cookie in her lap.

“I caught that.” I scratch the back of my neck, unsure what to say next. But there’s really only one thing to say. “His heart has always been true, and it’s always been yours. He’s going to give you space because you asked him to. The next move is yours. If you want him, tell him.” I take a deep breath because I’m afraid this next bit is going to put a wall between us again, but I need to say it.

“But please, be sure. It would be kinder to break his heart now than to lead him on and break it later.”

Miranda nods, swallowing.

“To moving forward,” I say, hoping we can truly do that.

“To moving forward,” Miranda echoes, lifting her mug of no-longer-hot cocoa to clink it against mine.

We spend the rest of the flight to Florida gossiping and giggling. This is how it always should’ve been between us. I hope, from now on, it always will be.

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