Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(25)

“I remember those days only too well.”

“Those could be some long nights.” She busies herself with adjusting the stroller to make sure the sun isn’t on Ella’s face. She’s wearing a T-shirt that says ME AND MY AUNTIE GOT IN TROUBLE TODAY.

“Can we visit the meerkats first? They’re so funny,” Peyton asks, breaking the sudden tension.

“For sure. Let’s get our tickets.” Harley pushes the stroller while Peyton tells her all about the day camp she’s been attending this week. It’s arts-and drama-focused and right up Peyton’s alley.

“One adult and three kids?” the girl at the ticket booth asks. Her name tag reads Stashia.

Harley’s head is tipped down, her face covered by the brim of her WE’RE ALL PRINCESSES ball cap. She’s trying to open her backpack, which also happens to be princess-themed and probably belongs to Ella. Harley’s head snaps up and Stashia’s eyes go wide. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Family of four.”

My lips press together, and I try not to react, but I give Harley a sidelong glance. Her eyes are wide and darting between me and Stashia.

“Harley used to be my nanny,” Peyton, my ever-observant daughter, pipes up.

The girl in the booth, who looks to be in her late teens, glances back and forth between me, Peyton, Harley, and baby Ella, a whole range of emotions including scandalized crossing her face before her mouth turns up in a very awkward, very fake smile. “That’s so nice,” she says in a pitchy, strained voice.

I have to give it to her, she’s really trying to keep it together.

And of course because Peyton loves to talk and tell random strangers things they definitely don’t need to know, she tacks on, “My mommy went to heaven before I had a chance to meet her, so the angels sent Harley to take care of me when I was a brand-new baby. We’re going to see the pandas today and the meerkats because they’re fun to watch.”

Harley raises her palm to her mouth and covers a laugh with a cough. “I’m so sorry. Allergies.” She motions to the flower beds nearby and fakes a sneeze that sounds like someone stepped on a dog toy.

Stashia hands over the tickets, and Harley thanks her while barely maintaining her composure as we make our way through the gates. It isn’t until we’re out of hearing range that she bursts into laughter. “Oh my gosh.” She grabs my arm. “Did you see the look on her face? She was trying so hard not to react.”

“She was trying not to react?”

“She thought I was your daughter at first!” She sucks in a gasping breath and wipes tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes.

“I don’t get why that’s funny,” Peyton says.

“She thought we were the same age, or close to it.” Harley motions between her and Peyton.

“Because your head was down, and you’re wearing a princess hat.” I flick the brim. “And you were rummaging around in a princess backpack. And in a few years Peyton is going to be taller than you.”

Harley plants a fist on her hip and tips her chin up, all adorable annoyance. “Are you height-shaming me?”

“No, I’m just stating facts.”

She meets my gaze with a narrowed one of her own. “Sounds a lot like height-shaming to me.”

“I don’t need a step stool to reach the top shelf in my kitchen cupboards, but you do.” A flash of memory hits me. One day, at the very beginning, when Harley had just moved in after Marcie died, I’d come into the kitchen and found her hoisting herself onto the counter so she could reach a bowl on one of the top shelves. I’d scared the crap out of her when I asked what she was doing, and she’d almost fallen off the counter. After that, I went out and got a step stool so she didn’t have to parkour around the kitchen.

She points a finger at me. “Height-shamer.”

“You have a vertical deficit.”

She scowls and I grin. After a few seconds she rolls her eyes and covers her mouth with her hand, obviously trying to hide her smile. I like this easy friendship we seem to be forming. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent time with a woman, even just on a friend level, and Harley is fun to be around.

Ella makes a disgruntled sound from her stroller, and Harley turns her attention back to her niece, giving her back her teething ring.

We head for the meerkat exhibit, which is on the way to the pandas. Pretty much all the exhibits are. It’s clearly been designed to entice people to visit the entire zoo in order to get to and from the pandas.

Peyton skips ahead of us as we reach the meerkats. They’re full of personality and mischief, which we witness firsthand when one of the meerkats drops a number two right in front of the window and then picks it up and lobs it at another meerkat. Like poorly behaved children in a cafeteria, other meerkats start picking up scraps of food and other, less appealing things and tossing them around.

Peyton’s expression turns from joy to disgust. “Are they throwing poop at each other?”

“Yup, they definitely are.” I give her a solemn nod and glance at Harley, who looks gleeful.

Ella is giggling away in her stroller, clearly enjoying the antics.

“Ew. But that’s so gross,” Peyton exclaims.

“It definitely is, but it’s also hilarious,” Harley agrees.

“Maybe we should come back later when they’re acting less gross.” Peyton takes my hand, and we continue on toward the monkey enclosure, which is another exhibit that Peyton usually loves.