Page 34 of A Thousand Little Goodbyes

“Um, other than abandon me to go on the adventure of a lifetime while I waste away inMedford? Let me see—”

River tsked impatiently. “No, not your mom. She’s pretty cool, as far as old people go.”

“Old?” Scarlett demanded. This time, it was Chrissie’s turn to hold her friend at bay. “Who’s she calling old?”

“I meant the girl,” River said, ignoring them both. “The one whose underwear drawer you’re going to rig tonight.”

Kat giggled—actuallygiggledin a way that Chrissie hadn’t heard in a very long time. “I can’t do that. Walsh—he’s my volleyball coach—would be the one who has to clean it up, and he’s really nice. Besides, the cat would probably try to eat the glitter. He’s certifiably stupid.”

“Hmm. If you can get into her phone, you could change all her contacts to the same name. That one always pisses people off—especially if you pick someone super random like Nicolas Cage.”

Scarlett brought her lips to Chrissie’s ear with a low chuckle. “That one’s kinda funny, actually.”

Chrissie waved her hand to shush her friend. She didn’t want to miss whatever else Kat had to say. This was more personal information than she’d gotten out of her daughter in months.

“You know a weird amount about pranking people,” Kat said.

“Yeah, well. We all have our strengths. Mine just happen to be pissing people off and occasionally singing a halfway decent song.”

Chrissie held her breath, afraid that a return to the topic at hand would shut Kat down again, but all her daughter did was sigh and say, “Lily’s not that bad. She’s just one of those people who’s good at everything, you know? Like, she never breaks out right before photo day or has a tampon string accidentally hanging out the side of her volleyball shorts. I’ve never seen her study for a test, but she somehow always gets the top grade, and she even reads for fun. Like, a lot.” Louder this time, and clearly for Chrissie’s benefit, she added, “Perfect people areimpossibleto live with—and the worst part is, they’re always nice about it, which makes it that much worse.”

Scarlett’s chuckle sounded once more. “She’s got you pegged, huh?”

“Me?” Chrissie returned, her brow puckered. “Since when has anyone ever accused me of being perfect?”

“Unless I’m mistaken, Kat just did. Poor kid. I never really thought about it, but sitting across fromthatover the breakfast table every morning must be rough.” Scarlett swirled a finger in Chrissie’s general direction. “Especially since I have no doubt you do things like make happy faces in the pancakes.”

Chrissie didn’t say anything. Shedidput happy faces in thepancakes, but that was because some days, it was the only time anyone in their house smiled. She also slipped notes into Kat’s lunch with encouraging messages and kept her Starbucks app well supplied in case she wanted to stop by after school for a little treat. None of the things she did were earth-shattering—or, as Kat might say,perfect—but they were the sort of attentions that she’d always wished her own parents would show.

Hello. How are you? I’m thinking of you. I’m glad you exist.

She was so deep in her own reflections that she didn’t realize River had finished up the call until she handed her back the phone and said, “There. Permission granted. That Lily girl sure sounds like a piece of work, doesn’t she?”

“Wait.” Chrissie blinked, taking in her surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. The golden-hued wood tones and scent of furniture polish, the animal heads staring down at them from almost every wall… It was as far from her cozy, floral house as possible, and it suddenly felt wrong. “That’s it? She just…gave in?”

“I mean, I think she was serious when she said you were under no circumstances allowed to wear your ‘In My Volleyball Mom Era’ sweatshirt while you play the piano, and to be honest, I’d find that pretty uncomfortable myself, but yeah.” River snapped her fingers. “Oh! And right after I turned off the speaker, she said to tell you that Rufio actually used the fake grass and that Walsh is taking them out to Wharf Fresh to celebrate. They’re going to, like, order extra shrimp for the cat? I don’t know. It all sounded random to me.”

Chrissie could only stare as the words sank in, so it was probably for the best that Scarlett took the lead and directed them to grab their bags.

“Good. It’s settled. Let’s get changed and then head down for our next big showcase. By the time this road trip is done, we’ll have you both on the path to superstardom.”

* * *

When Chrissie emerged from the bathroom a half hour later, it was to find Scarlett seated on the edge of her log bed, considerably overdressed in a silky red blouse buttoned up to the top and a black leather miniskirt that left little to the imagination.

By comparison, her own clothes were…well.Intentional.

“You guys ready to head down?” River’s head popped in through the adjoining door. There’d been quite a bit of arguing before they’d decided on the room assignments, but since Scarlett was the one picking up the bill, she’d had the ultimate say—and her ultimate say was that she and Chrissie would continue as planned, rooming together every step of the way to Vermont. This meant they were sleeping on narrow twins while River luxuriated on a California king, but Chrissie didn’t mind. It was almost as if she was back in Scarlett and her grandmother’s tiny apartment, where so many of her happiest memories resided.

River stepped into the room only to stop short when she noticed what Chrissie was wearing.

“Um…did you miss the part where your daughter said she hates that sweatshirt with the passion of a thousand burning suns?”

“No.” Chrissie ran a layer of ChapStick over her lips and checked her hair in the mirror. Whatever magic had happened at that salon was carrying over into the next state because it still looked fantastic. “But it’s my favorite, so I’m wearing it. Besides—Iamin my volleyball mom era. Why should I hide my true self?”

Scarlett snorted as she rose to her feet and grabbed her bag. “Add a pair of linen coveralls and a pumpkin spice latte, and your basic-white-lady packaging is complete.” She paused as she eyed the sweatshirt—which, yes, was oversized and tacky, but that was why Chrissie liked it. “Kat’s going to be livid, you know.”

“I know.”