Page 33 of Five

I run through all the ways to possibly put this, run the probabilities of getting it right and not freaking her out at the same time, and come up with… there’s no good way to put this.

So I devise another plan.

“Did you know…” I say, liking this idea better as the seconds pass, “that my dad has a superpower?”

Rory laughs, covering her mouth so she doesn’t spit out her food.

“No, really. He told me this himself. I know he’s weird, but listen. There’s no denying that Ford Aston is a goddamned genius, right?”

“No doubt,” Rory says.

“And that’s just you looking in from the outside. You, a Shrike princess, who probably knows him as well as anyone outside his immediate family. Well,” I amend, “you definitely know more about him than the twins. But that’s because they’re too young to know anything yet. They still think our families go to Disney every year because Bombshell is obsessed with the place.”

Rory scrunches up her face. “That is why we go.”

“Sure it is.” I laugh. But then I realize she’s serious. She doesn’t know.

Jesus Christ, Spencer Shrike. How the fuck did you not tell your oldest daughter what you really do down in Florida?

“Right,” I say. Now is not the time for that discussion.

“What’s this got to do with anything, anyway?” Rory asks.

“I’m gonna show you when we’re done eating.”

“I’m done,” Rory says, wrapping her burrito back up.

But I grab her hand and say, “Be still, Princess. We’re not in a hurry. We’re sitting in our park, under our tree, on a beautiful summer day having lunch together. Can’t we just enjoy it a little?”

She relaxes and then shoots me a shy smile. “Sorry. I’m just wound up, ya know? Things feel…”

“I know,” I say, scooting closer to her. “But listen, we gotta enjoy moments like this while we have the chance. So many things are outside our control, why not take some of that control back when we can?”

She unwraps her burrito and takes another bite. We sit in silence for a little bit, just watching the kids over at the pool as they splash and play.

God. We spent so many afternoons at that pool when we were kids.

“Remember how you used to hold my hand and take me across the street to swim when were small?” Rory says.

“I was just picturing it in my head this very moment.” I sigh.

“And you’d bring snack money. So we could buy shaved ice.”

“And then we’d come out here, wet, wrapped up in towels, and sit under this tree.”

“And talk about your wild plans for world domination.”

We both laugh. “I was a pretty stupid kid.”

“Stupid, no,” Rory says. “Just a guy with high expectations and plenty of plans on how to get the most out of life. I’ve always admired you for that, Five. I mean, really. Oxford at fifteen. I didn’t realize how big that was until recently. I was telling my friend from school about you last year and she was aghast. Apparently, her father went to Oxford too. So he wanted her and her brother to apply, but neither of them got in.”

I hear all those words. Every single one of them. But the only thing echoing in my head are, I was telling my friend from school about you…

“Five?” Rory says, leaning over to try to see up into my eyes. “Woohoo. Earth to Five.”

“What?” I say, lifting up my head and looking at her. Her father went to Oxford too…

“I said, what should we do today? Do you want to go swimming? Like old times?”