Page 30 of Trouble from Abroad
It’s pink and printed with tons of funky unicorns. Some wear sunglasses, others have ice cream cones as horns. It’s ridiculous in the best way. And from the intel I gathered in Lily’s room yesterday, it’ll be a hit.
Then I put on some distressed jeans I dyed pink myself and spritz my hair with water to wake up the curls—well, waves, at best, this morning.
One last twirl in the mirror. That’s it. I’m ready to meet—and desperate to impress—my new six-year-old lady boss.This is so exciting!
“Hello?” I call out, soft and unsure, as I inch toward the kitchen, where all the laughter’s coming from.
“Mia?” The maybe-Lily kid spins on her stool. Oh, it’s her. I recognize her from the pictures hanging everywhere in the house. Her voice is curious, a little shy, but her wide grin matches the flutter in my chest. She’s beaming so hard, it pushes her cheeks high, her pretty green eyes nearly disappearing.
Preston answers for me. “The one and only.”
When my eyes meet his, my step falters. Is he… smiling? His face has morphed into a cartoon version of himself. That’s the first full, genuine smile I’ve seen on him. A true contented look. He moves to stand by Lily, and something in me softens.
He introduces me to her and to his parents—total sweethearts. Turns out grumpiness doesn’t run in the family.
Lily giggles every time I string a sentence together.
“What?” I ask, besotted with the girl.
She stares up at her father. I know that look: she’s asking his permission to answer.
“What are the rules of this house, Lily?”
She straightens her back in her seat, furrows her brow a tiny bit, and says it in a mock-military tone. “Kindness and honesty, at all times.” Then she taps her fingers on the counter. “Oh! Oh! And wash your hands before snacks.”
If there’s such a thing as too cute, Lily isn’t just breaking the scale—she’s dancing on its ruins.
“Your accent,” she says when she turns to me, still holding on to her father’s arm, cheek pressed to his bicep. “It's funny. Dad told me you were from England, do they all talk like that over there?”
My cheeks hurt from smiling, and I somehow find more teeth to show. “We do. And in some parts of the country, they sound even funnier.”
“No way!”
“Yeah way!”
She giggles again. Lord, she’s gorgeous. Taller than I expected for six. Though Preston did mention she’ll be seven soon. Straight brown hair, too long in the bangs—she keeps blowing them out of her eyes. A tiny ski-slope nose, and the most infectious smile I’ve ever seen.
“Come,” she says, tapping the empty stool next to hers. “I saved this spot for you.” I dissolve on my way there, heart melting for this girl.
The little New Yorker is obsessed with my accent, so I tell her all about kings and queens, and she asks me about castles while we sink our teeth into syrupy pancakes. Preston and his parents hover nearby, whispering from acorner. I barely register them. I’m too busy being charmed by their girl.
When Lily catches them watching, she frowns. “What? Am I talking too much again?”
I don’t give them a chance to answer. “No such thing. Smart people have things to say.” I tip my head at her notebook. “Do you keep lists? I do.” She rolls her lips, as if she’s proud, but too self-conscious to admit it. If she isn’t, she will before my time here is done. “So… can you tell me about New York? It’s my first time here.”
That gets her launching into a mini lesson. Like father, like daughter. Two New York enthusiasts. How lucky am I? Lily’s bright, chatty, and fearless. I think I just won the lottery.
Liam’s been demoted. He’s no longer the best boss I’ve ever had.
Mr. and Mrs. Jett say their goodbyes after breakfast, and Lily ropes her dad into taking us to Coney Island. It’s the first place she wants to show me in New York. Can’t wait to see the rest of her list.
April calls before we leave—I suspect to check on Preston—and suddenly she and Liam are tagging along. Callie’s off somewhere on a date with the bartender from last night. I can respect her priorities.
Once we hit the funfair, Liam melts into a complete puddle for Lily. This girl has the superpower to turn grumpy men into golden retrievers. He hoists her onto his shoulders and gallops along the boardwalk, then heads down by the beach, kicking at the waves just to make her squeal. I laugh so hard, I get the hiccups.
Preston heads to a kiosk to get our prepaid wristbands,then he steers us through scanner chaos with an ‘after you’ and a stretch of his arm that parts the crowd like the Red Sea. We tackle the Lily-approved roller coasters, then inhale corn dogs, fried Oreos, and soft serve until my body composition is fifty percent regret and fifty percent sugar.
I’m one deep inhale away from exploding when we pass by a funnel cake stand. Naturally, I stop. I pull on the stretchy waistband of my leggings and decide they can take it. I stare in reverence as the vendor buries the fried monstrosity in powdered sugar.
