“Sorry,” I say to my father. “Hope we didn’t wake you. After last night, I wanted to check on Harlin’s arm.”He tilts his head like he is absolutely sure I’m lying. “And how is his arm, Elise?” he asks.“Uh . . . better?”My father stands motionless for a second, and then he shakes his head and walks into the kitchen. I hear the clink of cups, and then the running of water for the coffeepot.“That was a nice save,” Harlin says, sounding amused. “So detailed. Like a nurse.”“Shut up, Harlin,” I say, trying not to smile. “I didn’t hear you offer anything better.”“You sure you didn’t want to tell him we were playing doctor? That might have sounded more believable.”I turn quickly and swat at him. He laughs, dodging my swing, and catches my hand. “I would tackle you right here,” he says, leaning close. “Pin you and kiss you. But with the luck we have in your house, someone will walk in. And then what will you tell them?” he whispers. “That you were giving me CPR?”“Stop!” I slap his shoulder again.”
“That was a nice save,” Harlin says, sounding amused. “So detailed. Like a nurse.”“Shut up, Harlin,” I say, trying not to smile. “I didn’t hear you offer anything better.”“You sure you didn’t want to tell him we were playing doctor? That might have sounded more believable.”
“Have you seen my daughter?”“Daughter?” I’m the worst liar ever. I stare at Sarah’s tall, imposing father and try to smile. “She’s getting us a table?”He narrows his gray eyes, and then tightens his mouth. “Is that a question or a statement?”“Statement?” I’m so blowing this.He exhales and nods. “Well, then. I guess I’ll see you in the banquet room.”Harlin grins as Sarah’s father walks away. “You are so subtle, Charlotte. Are you a ninja?”“Shut up.”“I’m sure he didn’t find that at all suspicious.”“Harlin!”He laughs and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll stop,” he says. “But where is Sarah? You might want to find her before we sit down for chicken with that man. What will you say if he asks you to pass the mashed potatoes? Mashed potatoes?” Harlin finishes, imitating my voice.”
“Did you know Grandfather would give the poems to me?” I ask.“We thought he might,” my mother says.“Why didn’t you stop him?”“We didn’t want to take away your choices,” my mother says.“But Grandfather never did tell me about the Rising,” I say.“I think he wanted you to find your own way,” my mother says. She smiles. “In that way, he was a true rebel. I think that’s why he chose that argument with your father as his favorite memory. Though he was upset when the fight happened, later he came to see that your father was strong in choosing his own path, and he admired him for it.”
“From Chloe's Secret--coming soon“What are you saying?”“I’m saying I want to have a relationship with you. I want to love you.”“Is there a ‘but’ coming next?”“But the funny thing is, when I didn’t want to love you—it happened anyway.”He slipped his arms into my back pockets and hugged the breath out of me. I choked, my eyes stung. “I don’t know what to say.”He smiled. “Say whatever you want to. Just because I said it, you don’t have to.”He was right; I didn’t have to. He wasn’t asking anything of me.”
“I have something I need to tell you," he says. I run my fingers along the tendons in his hands and look back at him. "I might be in love with you." He smiles a little. "I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you, though.""That's sensible of you," I say, smiling too. "We should find some paper so you can make a list or a chart or something."I feel his laughter against my side, his nose sliding along my jaw, his lips pressing my ear."Maybe I'm already sure," he says, "and I just don't want to frighten you."I laugh a little. "Then you should know better.""Fine," he says. "Then I love you.”