here and—”
“Are those for us?” His sister asks. She’s holding on to the side of the pool, watching me with clear interest. The other girl in the pink tube tries to clutch at the side, too, but her inflatable keeps getting in the way and water splashes over the side. She bounces more, spilling more water outside the pool and laughing with glee.
“Yes, if your, uh, brother says it’s okay.” I set them on a nearby table and wave awkwardly. “I’ll be going then.”
“Wait.” His voice stops me.
“We were about to go up to eat dinner. Would you like to join us?”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. He’s inviting me to dinner? With his sisters?
The disbelief momentarily stole my tongue, and suddenly he’s the one rambling. “It’s okay if you have other plans, I thought since you’re here already and you brought dessert and—”
“Yes.” I cut him off with a short bark of a reply and then collect myself. “Yes, I would love to stay for dinner, thank you for the invitation.”
“Do you want to come swimming?” One of his sisters asks me.
“I’m afraid I’m rather unprepared, but maybe some other time,” I say.
Her head tilts. “You can put your feet in, if you want.”
My gaze locks with Guy’s. He pats the concrete next to him and I nod, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I take off my heels and leave them next to the table where I put the cupcakes. Then I walk over to Guy and sit down a foot away from him, slipping my feet into the lukewarm water.
“What’s your name?” his sister asks, still clutching the side of the pool.
Guy speaks before I can respond. “Sorry, I should have introduced you. These are my sisters, Ava and Emma.” He points out Ava, the talker, and Emma, the one in the pink flamingo tube, bouncing up and down slightly and making the water wave. “Girls, this is Scarlett. She’s, uh . . .”
“We’re friends.” I help him out so he doesn’t feel obligated to try and explain our relationship to his sisters. “I’m a chef, too.”
“Do you make fancy food like Guy does?” Ava asks.
“Not quite.”
“Well, that’s good because his food is gross. Hey, maybe she should make us dinner.”
I laugh. Only a kid would think a Michelin-rated chef makes “gross” food.
“You think mac and cheese from a box with fake cheddar is better than my gruyere and poblano white cheddar mac and cheese.”
She wrinkles her nose. “It even sounds disgusting.”
Emma laughs the sound both rough and uninhibited, and then she splashes jerkily at her sister. “Okay, okay, I’m coming. She likes it when I pull her,” Ava tells me as she sweeps her away and they swim down the side of the pool.
“How long have they lived with you?” I ask Guy.
“Since before our dad died…. It’s been about five years now. They’re twins.”
“How old are they?”
“They turned thirteen last month.”
Water splatters across my face and down the front of my dress and I squeak in surprise.
“She’s really sorry,” Ava rushes to explain. “She likes you but she can’t say it any other way.”
“It’s fine.” I laugh and wipe some water off my face with my hand. “It’s just water.”
Guy and Ava are watching me intently, like they expect me to freak out or something, and it makes me giggle a little nervously. “Really, it’s fine. You just wanted me to get the full experience of the pool, right?” I say to Emma. She doesn’t meet my eyes, instead watching her hands flap in the water.
Ava smiles at me, a small tilt of lips, and then pulls Emma away to the other side of the pool.
“Emma has Angelman Syndrome,” Guy says.
“What does that mean?”
He rubs the back of his head. “In scientific terms, it’s a chromosomal disorder. Deletion or defect on chromosome 15. It’s pretty rare. The range of how people are affected by it varies by subtype. Emma has no maternal 15. She can’t speak, but she does understand what we’re saying. She communicates mostly through gestures, and things like facial movements. She has an iPad she really likes, and she texts me a lot. Mostly emojis and pictures. She’s been getting into videos lately, too.”
I nod. Not really sure how to react, or even how much I can understand. Sorry doesn’t seem right, there’s nothing wrong with Emma.
“Why did you…why did you really come here?” he asks.
“I wanted to tell you thank you, for sending Carson.”
“You could have told