“Thanks.”
“Look at mine!”
I could already see, but he waved his knee at me and I made a big deal of being shocked. “Eww!”
“Thanks!”
Mike held an Elsa band-aid out to the kid. “Here you go, Tim.” His caregiver applied it to the almost nonexistent scratch.
“The lady needs one too,” Tim said, pointing at my knee.
“I’m on it, little man,” Mike assured him.
Tanya leaned down and said to Tim, “Maybe if you tell Elsa about your injury, she might sing ‘The Healing Song’ for you.”
She sounded so serious that she was perhaps not serious? Kiwis were very droll people, I was quickly learning.
“Tanz,” Mike groaned, when Tim and his minder had gone back outside. “You know I hate that song.”
“I know.”
“The kids go feral for it.”
Her grin widened. “I know.”
“I’ve seen Frozen, but I don’t think I remember ‘The Healing Song,’” I said.
“Oh, it’s not from the movie,” Tanz replied. “Lizzie wrote it herself. And it’s too many words for the music, so she always ends up rapping and then panicking because she’s a white girl rapping. It’s my favorite part of these parties. Nice to meet you, Lyssa Luxe. See you round, I bet.”
With that, my hair idol waved and left.
Mike fanned a selection of kids’ “plasters” out on the counter. “Here, Lyssa. Now, I have two questions for you. The first one is: Elsa”—he pointed at the corresponding band-aid—“or Anna?”
“Anna.”
Easy choice. Fellow chaos queen.
Mike slid the correct band-aid across the counter to me. “The second question”—and when I reached out to pick the band-aid up, he held it down with a finger, forcing me to look up and meet his eyes—“is what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to visit.”
—And to turn your idyllic and unique lifestyle into career-redeeming content, was the full answer.
Plus, hide.
The situation had layers.
“Really?” Mike’s eyes narrowed.
Honesty compelled me to add, “I’m planning to make some content while I’m here. Maybe Woodville’s tourism agency will want me to do some posts for them.”
Mike snorted. “Woodville’s tourism agency? Guess that’d be Jason.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were actually going to come?”
I didn’t know how to answer. Instead, I shrugged.
