Page 53
“It feels real, though.” She said it like an accusation. Then, quieter, “That’s kind of sick, actually.”
More than he expected, for sure. He watched her circle around to the ladder. When he turned back, his sister’s chin tightened.
“C’mon,” Chuck said. “You don’t have to do the thing.”
“I’m doing some of the thing.”
“Okay. A little bit.”
“I read that article twice. There’s a picture of you holding a level.” She adjusted the purse, eyes huge. “You look just like Dad. Before.”
“That’s not the compliment you think it is.”
“Not a compliment. A fact.” Then, before he could squirm from under that, “You said some really awful—”
“I did.”
“Some of them weren’t wrong.”
Chuck opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded.
“Not the part about me. The other part.” She breathed out. “Ted stayed home. He’s not ready. Here. Whatever. That’s his business, not yours.”
“Fair.”
“I’m here. Liv’s here. Start there.”
“Start there.” His throat had closed, so he pointed at the refreshment table. “There’s cookies. Niall alphabetized them.”
“He what?”
“Organized them by category. His words.”
His sister laughed the ugly honk he hadn’t heard in years and clapped a hand over her mouth like she was in church.
Across the store, Winnie had scaled the ladder in her purple Mustardseed wings and was leaning over the rail to deliver some kind of briefing to the grown-ups. Liv had stopped pretending not to care and had climbed up after her.
“That’s his daughter?” his sister said.
“That’s her.”
“You look happy. You look like you live here.”
“I do.” Chuck found he’d said it before he made up his mind to.
She gave him a quick hug and nodded at him, eyes wet. Then she went to the base of the tree and left Chuck feeling about ten years old. Winnie flapped her arms, and the whole crowd laughed and applauded.
Niall saw him looking. He winked and turned back to listen.
From her post at the register, Amber caught Chuck’s eye and gave a conspiratorial nod. The cart of new releases next to her was already half empty, and the line at the counter snaked nearly to the door. If people were to be believed, customers had driven up from San Diego. Even Celeste had already stolen a coffee-table book on raising water lilies, but was too excited by the buzz to make her getaway.
“You’ve built something… memorable,” a voice said beside him, the accent almost comically Canadian, and Chuck turned to find Mr. Yao, Winnie’s grandfather, studying the treehouse with a thoughtful expression and his hands in his rumpled suit pockets.
“Thanks,” Chuck said, surprised by the older man’s presence. They must have driven down to support Niall. He hadn’t seen the Yaos since his confrontation with Helen at the start of the year. “Team effort. Book magic.”
“Perhaps. I hope I recognize real ingenuity when I see it. Craft. Love.”
Chuck frowned, clenched for whatever came next.
