Page 133 of Selfie

“On Mom, you can’t say anything to Claire.”

“On Mom,” I swear.

“I was showing Claire our scrapbooks. She really liked them. I told her we do that to keep Mom close by. I told her we could make one for her mom too. So she could keep her close.”

I cup her face, stroking gently against her cheekbone. “I did a pretty good job with you, know that?” I wink. “You’re a very sweet girl, Charlotte. Don’t ever lose that.”

She gives me a half-smile, one cheek bunching up into a perfect sphere. “Well, Claire said we can’t because she doesn’t have so many pictures of her mom. Her grandma doesn’t like a lot of pictures of the past. She doesn’t even like to take Claire to her mom’s gravestone.”

It’s becoming increasingly more difficult to like Ruby. Ripping Claire from Nathan was shameful enough, but keeping her from the memories of her mother? It’s heartless.

“I was thinking,” Charlie continues, “Nathan probably has some pictures of Claire’s mom, right? What if we asked him for some and made Claire a scrapbook she could keep here and look at whenever she wanted to?”

I need to tell Charlie that after this weekend, when Ruby finds out where her granddaughter has been staying, who I’m dating, who Charlie calls friend—we might not get to see Claire anymore. But I just don’t have the heart to ruin such a sweet morning. “I love that idea. I’ll talk to Nathan about rummaging up some pictures.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I beam at my baby sister. “Mom would be so proud of you, you know.”

“I try,” she sasses.

I let out a breathy chuckle. This girl is powerless not to ruin sentimental moments with her snark. I giggle again when I remember Nathan saying the same thing about me. Guess it runs in the family. How’d we get here? We didn’tneedNathan to be a family, but it sure feels better now that he’s here.

“Pancakes?” I ask.

Her eyes bulge. “Can we go big with the toppings? Strawberries, chocolate chips,andwhipped cream?”

I match her buggy stare. “And powdered sugar and sprinkles too?”

Her fists go high in the air. “Yesss! Are you going to eat with us? Or are you still on your diet?” She pouts her bottom lip.

“I’m taking a little break from dieting. What do you think?”

“Good. You cook better when you actually taste your food.”

This girl.“All right, out.” I point to the door. “I’m right behind you. Go get the piggies fed. And Spike needs a bedding change today, don’t forget.”

“I’ll do it now,” Charlie answers.

“Put Spike in his own carrier while you clean. Don’t put him with Babe, okay? They can’t share a cage.” Charlie goes still. The look she gives me is the same one she had a year ago when she accidentally purchased seasons one through ten ofFriendsfrom the digital library. Over two hundred dollars was charged to my credit card—nonrefundable. I swear it’s my mom’s scold that comes out of me. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she whines. “We let Babe and Spike play together last night. They’re already in the same cage.”

“All night?”

“Yeah,” Charlie squeaks.

Welp. Too late. Babe’s pregnant.

The girls are tag-teaming breakfast dishes, flinging soap at each other, making more of a mess than they are actually cleaning up.

“Enough,” I playfully scold. “Finish up already. Sun’s high enough. Let’s get changed and in the pool.” It’s the best way to wear them out. When they’re swimming, their diva demands are curtailed. I’m looking forward to a morning of sunbathing by the pool, listening to the screeching and splashing of best-friendship until we break for lunch. I’m praying Nathan’s back by the time we fire up the outdoor stove for grilled cheese paired with virgin piña coladas.

The doorbell chimes, echoing in the living room and kitchen with a loud, resonant ring.

“I’ll get it!” Charlie belts out.

“Halt, missy.” I stop her. “Don’t even think about it.” I make my way to the door and point Charlie down the hall. “Go get your swimsuit on, nosy. You know you aren’t supposed to answer the doorbell.”

---