Page 94 of The Americana Playbook

Mom nods. “I chaperoned. You two just stood dancing side by side but never together.” This gets a kick out of her, and she cackles. “If we only knew then.”

If I onlytoldher then, I wonder before backtracking.But man, was I awkward with braces. Thank god I didn’t.

“This one must’ve been before junior prom.” Mom hands a picture to Parker. “I’m sure you hear all the time how much you look like your grandmother.”

I find Honey standing behind Parker, holding her shoulders. In typical Honey fashion, she’s dressed to the nines like she’s the one off to a ball. And at the edge of the photo, I see the lip of a martini glass. It makes me smile. But then I remember, this was just after she first got sick. Honey died just two months later.

“There’s a lot of her in you,” I say to Parker.

I never had a reason to pay attention to the similarities before. Madeline got Candice’s blonde hair and light features, but Parker’s chestnut locks and dark eyes came from her father’s side. She and Honey share the same shaped nose, and as I stare at Honey’s mouth open in the photo, I realize now they shared the same laugh too.

“I’m sure she would’velovedto see you two now. She always used to say, ‘Eleanor, I apologize in advance because I know Parker will break Fitz’s heart.’ I’m sure she’d never be happier to be wrong than right now.” She sighs, motioning at the stack of photos. “I mean, look at you two. What a love story. And to think it hasn’t even really begun yet.”

It hasn’t, I think to myself. Because even after everything, Parker still isn’tmine.

Parker clears her throat. “It technically didn’t begin then either.”

Mom laughs. “Of course it did, sweetheart. Fitz always had the biggest crush on you.”

I try to hide my wince by reaching for my glass of water. It’s either not cold enough or the temperature of my ears has reached new heights because I start to sweat.

Parker tilts her head to me.

“In fourth grade,” I spit out while thinkingand every day after.“But to be fair, Lucy Whitmore broke a lot of hearts when she only gave Joey Patterson a Valentine.”

Parker cackles. “Oh, so I was your second choice?”

I didn’t say Lucy Whitmore brokemyheart,I think to tell her. But instead, I grab the menu. “Should we order?”

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay to walk back to the hotel?” Parker asks, adjusting the strap of her purse that hangs across her body so it doesn’t bunch the sleeveless blouse she wears. “I can have someone drop you?—"

Mom declines, “No, don’t worry about me. I want to get in as much of the city as I can. I fly back out to Arizona early in the morning. You go now and be with your family. I’m sure there’s much to do.”

“We’ll send a car to pick you up. They’ll call when they’re downstairs.” Parker gives my mother a hug, the bag of photos hanging off her wrist. “Thank you for the pictures. They really mean so much to me.”

I reach for Parker’s hand when she lets go of mom. “You alright to ride back on your own?” My eyes move to Agent Samuels standing against the far wall of the restaurant, near the entrance to the hallway leading to what I assume is the kitchen and back entrance. I lift my phone.

“It’s okay. I told them we’re walking. I’d go with you but it’s in the opposite direction. Take your time.”

“I’ll try to be back in an hour,” I tell her and as soon as the words leave my lips, the air around us grows thick, and I’m suffocated now by the gazes of all the patrons at the restaurant. I’ve gotten pretty used to tuning them out. But now that feels a lot harder in a smaller, more intimate space where my mother is present.

Kiss her. I’m supposed to kiss her—a quick press of my lips to hers, just something small enough for a tiny goodbye.

But when I lean in to do that, Parker tilts her face to the side, and my lips find her cheek.

Her fuckingcheek.

I barely have the chance to even process it before Parker steps back, winding through the few tables and into the hallway.

“Let’s go, Fitz,” Mom says.

I nod, leading her back to front door. “I think it’s this way,” I say as we walk to our right down the street.

“You should probably figure this place out. You might be spending some time down here over the next four and a half years.” She drops her voice to a whisper as the sidewalk in front of us grows more crowded.

I try my best to smile at the curious, well-meaning people who look at us intently as pass. “I doubt we’ll be down here much. Neither of us is all that crazy about DC. I do get to go on Air Force One tomorrow though. That basically ends my presidential bucket list.” I wave to someone calling my name from a car.

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