Page 10 of Plotting Summer

Aha! Victory is mine! “Great! I’ll talk with your mom and see when we can make it happen.” Straightening again, I risk a glance at Tala.

She’s giving a subtle shake of her head, but her expression is noticeably softer. “Auntie Capri and I will definitely be talking about this.”

I swallow, feeling like the principal called home to report I was caught cheating during a test, but instead of being scolded directly, I have to wait for an adequate consequence to be decided. Not that I know this from experience, but I’ve thought through what it’d be like to be that kid on several occasions thanks to my vivid imagination.

“In fact, why don’t you two go inside and practice your talents?” Tala says to Serenity and Jack. “That way you can perform them for Capri before she leaves tonight.”

Jack darts back in the house without a backwards glance, but Serenity pauses on the threshold, glancing between us with a suspicious expression.

“Go on,” Tala says. “And shut the door so the cold air stays in.”

With one last look at me, Serenity huffs and shuts the door behind her.

Tala shakes her head. “That one’s getting too perceptive for her own good.”

Warning noted. “So …” I know the lecture is coming and there’s no point in postponing it any longer. “Let’s have it.”

Tala’s shoulders drop like she hates having to be the all-knowing, wiser sister. “I get why you don’t want to stay. I honestly do. But you can’t avoid Sunset Harbor forever. This is your home. Your family’s here.”

I step toward her armful of cuteness and mindlessly rub Lucas’s tiny fingers and toes one by one to evade Tala’s stare. “I’m not going to avoid it forever. Only until I can develop a plan for how to navigate everything.” A plan that involves no one discovering the truth while simultaneously making it feel like I’m not hiding some huge, opinion-altering-life-changing-secret from everyone.

Okay, with those parameters, maybe forever isn’t unrealistic. I’ve put a lot of brain power into how I can make any of this right, and I’ve come up with nada. Zero. Zilch. Except to keep clear of Sunset Harbor for the foreseeable future in combination with maintaining an unwavering death-grip on the fact that I’m Sunny Palmer.

“You could start telling people. Begin with our family.”

My gaze shoots to hers. “You’re kidding, right?” I’m shaking my head as though my fate rests on my ability to convey how against the idea I am. “Do you think Mom or Grandma can keep that secret? Or Heath?” Walker, my older brother, might be the exception because he won’t care much. “If the truth gets out, I’ll never be able to come home. People will talk. And Tristan will get dragged into the mess …” A wisp of a breath escapes me. “No one can know.”

“Capri, it was a long time ago.” Tala’s gaze flicks to the Palmers’ old house next door, but I resist following it. “At this point, I think Tristan would find the whole thing … endearing.”

“Endearing?” I stare at her. “Which part? That his romance-obsessed, former neighbor wrote a fictional love story about the two of us, or that I borrowed his last name for my pen name?”

She tucks her lips between her teeth like she’s fighting a smile. “Well, when you say it like that.”

“Trust me. There’s no way to say it that makes it sound remotely okay.”

Tala quirks her head thoughtfully. “And you really can’t change pen names?”

It wasn’t too long ago that I had this exact conversation with Maven Chase, my agent, though I was the one asking the question. “I can. Technically. But if I republish my older books under a new name, it’ll just draw more attention. The same thing will happen if I announce that I’ll be going by a different name moving forward or stop writing under that pen name altogether. Besides, there’s no way to change it on the books already in circulation.” Millions of them! I lean back my head and moan. “It’s hopeless.”

Tala touches my arm, pulling my focus back to her. “It’s not. We’ll figure something out.”

I give a grimaced smile, not willing to break her spirits further by voicing my doubt. “I hope so.”

“Oh, I know it. Because I refuse to let this”—she points to my laptop bag as though it embodies my decision not to stay the weekend—“be our new normal.”

“That reminds me, I have something for you.” My intended peace offering isn’t complete yet, and I have high hopes this next gesture will get me off the hook completely. At least for the time being. I unzip my bag and pull out a plastic-comb-bound manuscript of the book I sent to my editor this morning.

She glances at it and back at me. “You think handing me that is going to make me overlook this little stunt of yours?”

“That’s the idea.”

Tala looks at my offering again, unable to hold back her smile. Then she snatches it from my hands. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”

See? She’s a saint. “Just don’t read it until I’m gone.”

“Deal. Now let’s get inside. Grandma and Heath should be here soon, and I still need to get lunch ready.”

With Serenity and Jack off practicing their talents and Tala putting Lucas down for a nap, I drift through the downstairs rooms. The whole house looks amazing. And different. I love seeing Tala and Heath make this place their own, but I also miss the way it was. The old china cabinet with knickknacks from all of Grandma and Grandpa’s travels. The mismatched set of floral couches in the front room where Jane and I spent countless afternoons together, talking and laughing and watching for signs of Tristan out the window. The infamous collage of photos in the upstairs hallway with its mortifying collection of blackmail-worthy pictures of me and my siblings. Grandma’s house has always been one of the most constant things in my life. But in a matter of six months, it looks like a different place entirely.