Page 89 of Good as Gold
Oh shit. People don’t usually speak to my father that way. I brace myself for him to fire her right in front of me.
But he flips open the folder instead, and then grunts. “Huh. That was fast.”
“I could have done this work in half the time with Excel,” she says coolly. “But you be you, boo.” Then she ducks around him and leaves the office.
I blink after her.
“Mouthy girl,” my dad mutters. “But nobody works a calculator like she does. Did you finish the receipts?”
“Almost,” I say, recovering from my shock.
“If you don’t have time, just give them to Livia. She’ll be taking over that job when you go back to your babysitting gig.”
Babysitting gig. That’s what my father thinks of early childhood education. It makes me want to choke him. But you have to pick your battles.
“Will do,” I say. And then I grab the receipts off the desk and leave.
CHAPTER32
MATTEO
AUGUST
When I was a kid, the first day of summer break was like the edge of the ocean. Time stretched out before me, unbroken. But then somehow vacation always went so fast.
The same thing is happening at age thirty-six. I’m leaving Vermont tomorrow. And I’m totally not ready.
My last day in the Green Mountain State is spent sweating in Benito’s backyard. There are better ways to kill a Sunday, but at least they can say that I was helpful until the very end.
“Whose turn is it?” Alec calls. “Matteo?”
“Yeah, sure. Give it here.” I hold out my hands for the posthole digger that Benito bought at Home Depot.
When Alec hands me the digger, I find the mark for the next posthole and prepare to dig.
“Hold up,” Alec says. “Wait for the beep.”
I roll my eyes, but I wait.
All my siblings have gathered here to help my youngest brother install a fence, and because we’re us, somebody decided that it needed to be a competition. Whoever can dig the fastest posthole wins… I don’t even know what.
“Is there a prize if I win?” I ask.
“Nope,” Alec says. “Just the glory of being the manliest among us.”
“This might be the dumbest contest you idiots have ever come up with,” Zara says from a deck chair, where she’s holding Micah. “Toxic masculinity at its finest.”
“Then why didn’t you switch jobs with me when I offered?” I ask. “I’m happy to do some baby-holding.”
“Then who’d keep score?” she asks with a shake of her hair. “I said it was dumb. I didn’t say it wasn’t entertaining.”
Micah gives me a drooly smile. He is also entertained.
“Ready?” Alec says. “And…go.”
His watch beeps, and I start digging. Ben’s new backyard has some pretty big rocks in the soil, so this competition is based more on luck than strength. My last effort was stymied by a softball-sized rock halfway to victory.
But this time I’m lucky. I quickly dig three plugs of soil and whoop when the digger sinks into the hole at the finished height. “Did you see that? I’m winning this thing.”
