“Lacey Harriet Adele! What are you doing on the roof?”
Both middle names? She’s not happy.
“Harriet Adele?” Landon teases quietly.
I gently elbow him in the ribs as I holler back, “We were watching the fireworks, but the ladder fell while we were up here.”
Uncle Mark grins and walks below us, craning his neck to look up. “How do you plan to get down?”
I set my hands on my hips. “You’re going to hand us that ladder.”
“I am?” he teases. Thankfully, he’s more amused than my mother.
After a few more minutes of joking, he finally sets the ladder against the house and holds it so we can climb down.
“Goodnight, Landon,” Mom says, but it really means, “You’re in trouble, Landon. Go back to your camper.”
He gives her a sheepish grin. “Night, Mrs. Mor—Cassie. Night, Mark.” Before he goes, he turns back to me and mouths, “Goodnight, Lacey.”
It warms me all the way to the tips of my toes.
“Bye,” I mouth back.
At least Mom waits until he’s gone before the scolding begins. “The roof, Lacey? In the dark? Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” Mark says gently. “She’s fine.”
Mom scowls at him, but she finally gives in. Turning back to me, she says, “Don’t do it again.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I swear.
Before we go inside, I glance toward the campground. “What happened with Evie?”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Sarah put her up in a hotel in town and told her to drive home tomorrow. Landon’s made it very clear he doesn’t want her here.”
Satisfied, I nod and head toward the house.
“How well could you see the fireworks from up there?” Uncle Mark asks.
I glance at Mom before I hide a smile and say, “Pretty well.”
I don’t think I need to admit I didn’t watch most of them.
Uncle Mark grins at my mother. “Maybe we should all climb up there next year?”
She laughs and gives him a good, hard shove to the arm. “Not on your life.”
“What did that art curator want?”I finally remember to ask Mom as we’re making dinner several weeks after the man showed up. With everything going on with Landon, I forgot to ask.
She chops bell peppers to add to the onions already sautéing in the skillet. “He wants to show some of my work in his gallery.”
“So…did he take anything?”
The peppers hiss and spit as she adds them to the hot skillet. “He took a few pieces on consignment and said he’d see how much interest they garner.”
“That’s good, right? You’re excited?”
She shrugs, snacking on a leftover piece of bell pepper. “I don’t know if anything will come of it.”
