The Truth

“Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

She pushes her blonde hair behind her ear, pleased with the compliment but shy about accepting it. “Thank my grandmother. She taught me.”

“I will when I get to meet her.” Panic tightens my full belly as I realize that might tip Harper off, and I correct myself. “I mean, if I get to.”

Ace joins Harper, patting me on the shoulder a little too hard as punishment for my misspeak. “Let me walk you down, Tiff. I do need to take Kevin out for a stretch, anyway.”

He grabs Kevin’s leash, and the goblin version of the now-sweet dog returns as Kevin goes crazy, running around and through our feet, nearly knocking Harper down. She cries out in surprise, reaching at empty air to catch herself, and Ace reacts quickly, making a weird noise that makes us all freeze in place, even Harper, who’s found her balance. It sounds sort of like a belch, a whistle, and a heavy metal scream all wrapped up together, without his opening his mouth that widely.

Thankfully, Kevin freezes too at the sound of my brother’s demon-bark.

“I need to practice making that sound if it works like that. Yaernt . . . yarrt . . . uh, yerrrnt?”

Kevin looks at me like I’m speaking a foreign language . . . badly. Fine, maybe he’s right, but I can’t be expected to learn dog-speak on the first try. Ace laughs, shaking his head. “No, it’s more yehrt! Sharp, at the roof of your mouth.”

I try again, and Ace shakes his head, so it must not be much better. “Keep trying. It’s a good skill. You’ll need it.”

Harper tilts her head. “Are you thinking of getting a dog?”

I inhale sharply, realizing that we’re dangerously close to ruining Ace’s big surprise. I force a ‘silly me’ grin to my face, laughing at the very idea of my having time to take care of a dog with my crazy busy schedule. “Oh, no, I was thinking it’d come in handy for the people at the office. Try to cut in line for copies? Yehrt! Don’t answer my email? Yehrt!” I add a harshly pointed finger to emphasize that I’m effectively planning to use dog obedience tricks on my coworkers. “So, yeah… no dogs for me. And there’s no way I’m ever getting a cat. I am not going to become the crazy cat lady. I’d never date again.”

Bless her sweet, good-hearted self, Harper believes me and laughs as though that’s a funny joke. “Oh, please. Your perfect man’s just around the corner, I bet. You’ll find him soon, or maybe . . . he’ll find you.” She glances at Ace, talking more about them than any imaginary boyfriend I might get.

Phew! Foot in mouth crisis averted.

Ace decides to get out while the getting’s good. “Be right back, babe. Why don’t you load up some Netflix? We can watch something before bed?”

Harper’s eyes go wide, eager. “Anything I want?”

Ace’s answering smile does wonders to soothe a worried sister’s concerns. “Yeah, I’m game for whatever.”

On the way downstairs, Ace confides, “She keeps making me watch these competition shows. Baking, fashion, makeup, flowers . . . even welding. I don’t get it. Why does baking have to be competitive? If it tastes good, aren’t we all winners?”

I laugh but ask, “Who’s your favorite baker?”

Ace snarls at me, a tiny peek of his grumpiness shining through. But when I growl right back, he melts. “Asher. He makes these tiny figurines out of fondant and creates scenes on top of the cakes. It’s like a whole sculpture every time.”

I make a whipping sound, easily getting that to come through clear and distinct.

Ace though doesn’t mind in the least. “Happily whipped, Sis. And so is Harper.”

He winks, definitely meaning something different and naughtier. I push his chest. “Ew. I do not need to know that about my brother. And Sweet Harper? I don’t believe it.”

Ace smirks, and I’m truly not sure if he’s kidding or not. I mean, ‘good girls gone wild’ is a thing for a reason. But Harper?

He walks me out to my car as Kevin sniffs a nearby tree. As Kevin lifts his leg, Ace reaches into his pocket. “Here.” He holds out a keyring with two silver keys on it. “This one is for the front door. And this one is for the supply closet where the food and treats are. These are the literal keys to my kingdom. Don’t fuck this up, Tiff.”

I tilt my head, looking down my nose at my little brother even though he’s taller than me. “Seriously? Of the two of us, only one of us would have a greater than fifty percent chance of fucking something up. And to note . . . it’s not me.”

“Noted,” Ace agrees with an eye roll I swear I can actually hear. “Promise to be there early on Saturday? I want to make sure everything is ready when the dogs show up at ten.”