Page 22 of Good For Me

Vega’s scowl loosens a little—girl likes nothing better than to be praised for her baked goods. She’s going to be a superstar chef someday, I guarantee it. She already has her own YouTube channel.

“It’s lemon poppy seed with cream cheese frosting, zest of lemon, and graham cracker crumbles,” she tells me, returning her attention back to the piping bag in her hand.

“I think you have enough here to feed the whole block,” I point out. The entire kitchen island is covered.

“You underestimate how much our family can eat,” Violet says. I lean over to press a kiss to my little sister’s forehead then grab another cupcake, laughing when she smacks my hand.

“Where are the parentals?”

“Mom is out shopping with Aunt Sam. They’re getting decorations for Eva’s bridal shower.”

I turn to face Paige, eyebrows raised. “They’re shopping for the shower and you’re here?”

Silas laughs from the other side of the room. “They banned her from helping.”

Paige has the grumpiest look on her face, and I have to laugh. “Why on Earth would they do that?” I ask innocently, knowing full well why the other women wouldn’t want to work with Paige.

“Apparently I was going overboard,” she says tightly.

Santana grins up at her mom. “I think the words they used werefanatical party planning dictator.”

Paige throws her hands up, nearly upending a bottle of nail polish onto Lyric. “Excuse me for wanting it to be a nice party!”

“Let me guess—too much glitter?” I ask.

“She tried to buy twenty pounds off Amazon,” Presley calls from behind the comic books. “twenty pounds ofglitter.” She shakes her head. “That’s excessive, Mom. Even for you.”

“It’s the first family wedding we’ve had in ages,” Paige complains, then sighs. “I may have gotten slightly carried away.”

“Shocking,” my dad booms, striding into the room. “You have a reputation of such restraint, Paige.”

“Fuck off, Daltrey,” she says cheerily, and everyone laughs.

“Hey,” Dad says, catching sight of me amongst the chaos in his kitchen. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Looking at my dad is a little like looking into a mirror of the future. Several of his kids take after him—tall, blonde, blue eyes—but I’m the most similar. Seeing pictures of him when he was my age is freaky—we could be twins.

It was something I struggled with a lot when I was younger. Especially high school. It’s hard to form your own identity when the first thing anyone sees when they look at you is your very famous father. I used to dye my hair a darker shade of blonde and buzzcut it short. I even went through a stage where I dressed in preppy clothes—stuff my dad would never be caught dead in. Eventually I realized pretending to be someone else wasn’t actually helping me to figure myself out, so I let my hair grow out and went back to my t-shirts and jeans.

“I was out back skating with the boys,” I tell him.

He nods but doesn’t say anything, walking over to the fridge. “Want a beer?”

“Sure. Grab the sandwich stuff, too, would ya?” I grin at Cade and Ash. “We need our strength to tackle that ramp, yeah?”

“Oh my God, they’re like, obsessed with their skateboards,” Violet says. “It’s all they ever want to do anymore.”

“That’s because they want to impressMonica,” Vega singsongs, and Cade pulls her ponytail, hissing for her to shut up.

My dad somehow manages to find space on the counter that isn’t covered by cupcake ingredients and gets to work throwing sandwiches together.

“I’ll take one of those, Uncle Daltrey,” Silas calls out.

“Me too,” the majority of the kids in the room shout.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I’m just going to make a pile. But I’m not taking any requests. You can all have ham and cheese.”

I join my dad at the counter and start slathering mustard onto pieces of bread. “What are your plans for the afternoon?” he asks.