Page 81 of Personal Foul
Dylan looks after her, then sits back in his chair, fiddling with his teacup as he looks at me. “This is more fun than I would’ve guessed.”
“Gracie is the ultimate hostess.”
He chuckles. “She’s certainly very attentive to her guests. I’ve had the equivalent of about a gallon of pretend tea.”
Before I can say anything else, Gracie runs back in, waving a feather boa and a tiara.
“Oh no,” I whisper, covering my mouth with my hand.
Dylan glances at me and leans an arm on the table so he can surreptitiously cover his smile with his fingers as well.
But his surprise is evident when Grace presents the plastic tiara and blue boa to Dylan. “Put them on!” she demands.
“For me?” he asks, and she nods emphatically. “Don’t you think they’d look better on Charity?”
She shakes her head and thrusts them into his lap. “For you! Put them on! I get Charity something.”
His bewilderment as he watches her race away again has me fighting back my laughter. “Better put them on. She’ll be pissed if you don’t.”
He gives me side-eye, but gamely places the tiara on his head and settles the boa around his neck, flinging one side over his shoulder dramatically.
Grace stops in the doorway, play scarves clutched in her little hands that she holds up to her mouth in wonder and excitement. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathes, and I try hard not to laugh more.
“Why thank you, Miss Grace,” Dylan says in his pompous voice. “I daresay I look splendid.”
Pulling out my phone, I open the camera app. I have to get a pic of this. Otherwise who will ever believe me that it happened?
I snap a few while he interacts with Grace, then call his name to get his attention.
He gives me a death glare, which I capture, then he rolls his eyes and shakes his head before batting his eyelids and giving me a coy smile. Laughing, I take more pics.
Then Gracie runs up and pushes one of the scarves at me. “Here. Put this on. And one for me!”
She drops the blue scarf in my lap and wraps the lavender one around her shoulders. It’s more like a shawl or a cape on her than a scarf, but she’s happy as she scampers back to her seat and climbs into her booster. She fusses with her scarf some more while I drape mine around my neck. Looking around the table at all of us, she claps. “We’re beautiful!”
“Yes, Gracie,” I say. “Thank you for making us all beautiful.”
She retrieves her teapot and holds it out. “More tea?”
“Yes, please,” Dylan and I say in chorus, and she hops down to refill everyone’s cups, including the trio of stuffies in the chair next to me.
We’re still at the table, though I’ve gotten Dylan and me actual glasses of water and a sippy cup of milk for Grace, plus peanut butter and jelly triangle sandwiches and Goldfish crackers for a snack, when Hope gets home.
She grins at the sight of us. “You three look like you’ve been having fun. Hi, I’m Hope,” she says to Dylan, offering her hand.
Standing, he shakes her hand, making the tiara slip. He catches it and steadies it on his head before sitting back down. “Nice to meet you. Your daughter is quite the hostess. Thank you for allowing me to join her most excellent tea party.”
Grace beams at his praise, and Hope smooths her hair and bends to give her a hug and a kiss. “She hosts the best tea parties around, doesn’t she?”
Dylan and I murmur our agreement, and I stand to start cleaning up the remains of our snack.
“Wait, come back, Charity,” Hope says. “I need to get a picture of you three at the table with the other guests.”
“Oh my god,” I murmur, but return to my seat and paste on a smile.
Dylan reaches under the table and pinches my leg. “Serves you right. You got pics of me. I need one with you in it too.”
“Hope, send me a copy so I can share it with Dylan.”
