Page 58 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

“If it’s easier, I can spend the night outside. Eat on the porch and watch you all through the window.”

Her face glows with amusement. “Get that stupid stuff off and get inside. No clue why I thought I could shake you.”

She can try all she likes, but I’m here to stay.

I thankfully divest myself of the football gear and meet Maggie on the porch, standing over her. “Hi,” I say quietly.

“Hi,” she replies, equally as soft.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“You didn’t leave me much choice.”

“Do you really think we’re a choice?”

Her eyes flare, the heat of them radiating in my chest. Her hair is pulled back in my favorite fifties-style wrap, exposing the long line of her neck. Unable to resist, I lean down and nose her ear. “I think we’re inevitable.”

I drop a tender kiss to her cheek, loving how she shivers, then walk past her into her home.

“Lennon! So great to have you.” Maggie’s mother pulls me inside with a hug, tutting over me as though we’re long-lost friends. Her eyes and hair are clones of Maggie’s, or the other way around, but where Maggie’s features are more angular, Dana Edelstein is rounder and softer. She beckons me to follow her to the kitchen, toward the delicious, savory smells.

I walk more slowly, because lo and behold, I’ve been presented with Maggie’s childhood in the form of a Family Wall of Fame. Her life, captured in pictures.

Maggie grinning, no front teeth in sight.

Maggie holding up a track-and-field ribbon.

Maggie in her prom dress, next to some tall guy I ignore.

Maggie and her sister in matching hot-dog outfits, a yellow line of “mustard” flowing up to their chins, taking the Halloween costume from cute to adorkulous.

I gesture to the splendid piece of embarrassment. “Can I please get this blown up for my wall?”

“Sure,” Maggie says, her tone flat. “As long as you’re not upset when your house burns down.”

“Maybe I’ll pass.” But I will find a way to make that picture my phone screensaver.

We join the others in their farm-style kitchen, drinks handed out as we perch on stools and chairs. Jason Edelstein is a knee-slapper of a man, big and broad with a booming laugh that suits him perfectly.

“Love the plants in here,” I say, taking in the burst of greenery. The natural world brought inside.

“The lovely plants are my wife’s doing.” Jason surveys the plethora of pots livening up the kitchen. “But it’s gone a bit overboard. I’m worried if I fall asleep with my mouth open, she’ll plant something in me.”

Dana tosses a dishcloth at him, earning laughs from us all. The move barely breaks her stride. She appears to be a master chef, flitting around effortlessly, stirring and chopping and sautéing.

“Careful,” Emma tells her father, “or it’ll be poison ivy.”

I chuckle, enjoying her sass. She’s the most like Maggie, in personality more than looks. Her red hair is a shade darker, and she has fewer freckles and a longer face, but they share the same strong personality. The girls tease their father’s jokes and how their mother pronounces “schedule” with a soft sh, everything about this warm family scene so normal. So perfectly inviting and happy, I can’t for the life of me understand why Maggie was worried about bringing me here.

Unless it wasn’t her “difficult” family that had her freaking out. Maybe it was me she didn’t think would fit in with them. Or she was worried this was too much, too soon—me meeting the Edelstein clan like the boyfriend I want to be. Both options have me getting quieter, observing more than participating.

Dinner is as entertaining as our pre-meal hang out. We pass around roast chicken, blistered green beans, and a sweet potato casserole that has me going back for seconds—all Emma’s favorite foods. Maggie’s parents ask me briefly about witness protection and my years in Houston, deftly switching the subject to my move here and Littlewing Adventures. Tact and kindness in abundance. Birthday cake follows the delicious meal, candles and wishes and claps filling the dining room with warmth.

“I bet my office would be keen on those high ropes activities,” Jason says, placing his napkin on the table. “The team-building programs for Bigwing Adventures sound great.”

The compliment has me flushing, but also feeling heavy. My father didn’t ask about my work or life. He won’t be boasting about me to his friends and coworkers, if he has any of those.

“I’ll contact you when it’s ready,” I say, swallowing the hit of jealousy that has no place here. I’m thrilled Maggie has such a great dad. Such a loving family. “We’re hoping to launch the adult programs next year in the early spring.”