Page 54 of Keepsakes and Kismet

For a moment, we stare at each other in silence.

Then, we both start whisper-shouting at the same time.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t even know she was your girlfriend until Clover told me, like, twenty minutes ago! And Peyton didn’t put it together either, since I still use my married name! It’s not my fault!”

“What the hell? You hired me a fake friend?!”

“In my defense, I used her for my store opening. I met her first!”

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?! She’s not even my girl—hold on.”

Cait’s eyes widen and her mouth snaps shut.

I run a hand through my hair. “If Clover told you we were dating… Do Ma and Dad think Peyton is my girlfriend? Oh my God, has Peyton met Ma and Dad already?”

My sister’s resounding silence answers the question.

“Jesus, Cait! Has she been in this house for the past thirty minutes meeting all seven of you weirdos without me?”

“She’s been here an hour, actually,” she admits under her breath.

“An hour!?”

Cait holds her hands up. “What? She’s punctual! Very good at her job, honestly. It’s why I hired her for your—um, I mean, my opening.”

“This is so bad. This is so fucking bad,” I mutter repeatedly, before stopping entirely. “Wait. Why are the Chungs at my birthday party?”

Cait presses her lips together. Then barely opening her mouth, like she’s a ventriloquist, she mumbles, “One of Peyton’s tasks was to fill out the guest list. She said they owed her a favor.”

“I don’t mean to intrude, loves, but the party is getting cold without you.” Ma’s sweet voice cuts through the static noise filling my head as my brain tries to process recent inputs, and I follow the sound to see her head peeking in from the archway.

“No party in the history of time has ever gotten colder without me there, Ma.”

“He has a point,” Cait adds, and I shoot her a glare.

Ma just bites her lip, trying not to smile. “Well in that case, let me just say that Peyton’s chatting with your father about stamps, and⁠—”

I don’t let her finish. One mention of my father talking about stamps is all the motivation I need to bolt toward Peyton, who’s sitting on a folding chair next to Dad in the living room.

“This one is just a gorgeous example of a blind perf.” Dad has a white glove on and is holding one of his older, prized stamps.

“Perf?”

“Ah, perforation. It’s partially missing, as you can see. But, if you look closer, you might see the watermark. It’s faint, but there. Don’t worry if you can’t see it on the first go. I have a watermark detector I can get. Any good philatelist has one.”

The most boring man alive, God love him.

“Peyton!” I interrupt. “So good—and unexpected—to see you here.”

“Hey, Inspect—erm, Callum.”

“Ah, Cal Pal. Why didn’t you tell us about your girlfriend? Cait had to introduce us to her, you know. She’s just a dear. And she loves my Napoleonic era stamp collection.”

He pauses, lifting his arm to put it around Peyton, and I almost dislocate an elbow stepping in between their chairs, trying to save her from his touch.

Peyton’s eyes sparkle, the ever-present glint of mischief flashing at me. “Yeah, Cal Pal, how come you’ve never introduced me?” She pauses, leaning toward my ear. “I’m a dear, haven’t you heard?”

I throw a half-assed glower at her. She’s enjoying this a little too much for my liking.