Chapter 6
Kirsten
There’s shuffling, whispering, and finally a door slamming shut.
A moment later, the twins appear at the top of the stairs, and I feel my face lift into a smile.
Aspen has already got something about her.
She’s fairer than Maple, more like Garrett, and has developed a few freckles on her nose over the last month or so.
Her green eyes – another gift from her father – have a gorgeous habit of changing color with her mood, and her grin looks so cheeky on camera that it’s perfect for pranking.
Ash is a little different. He’s a sweetheart in so many ways, but his online presence needs some work.
‘Hey good morning, my babies,’ I say in the singsong voice I perfected a long time ago and now feels as natural as breathing. ‘Go grab some cereal and fill your water bottles. Is Maple coming?’
‘She’s in her room,’ Aspen says, flicking her hand as she half walks, half slides down the wooden stairs. ‘And I don’t want cereal. Can I have one of those new smoothies instead?’
‘Shit, the smoothies,’ I mutter. After all the excitement of the Azione photoshoot, and the fishing curve ball Garrett threw at me last night, I’ve forgotten all about that job.
Did I even add it to the schedule in the first place?
I grimace. This is so unlike me. But there’s no need to panic.
I can set it up tomorrow and still meet the deadline.
‘No, leave those,’ I say. ‘I need to do the filming first, and we don’t have time for that this morning. ’
Aspen’s eyes narrow in annoyance, but Ash cups his little hand around her ear and whispers something.
I don’t hear what he says, but Aspen’s expression clears, and they skip off together toward the kitchen.
Unlike his twin sister, Ash is a rule follower, so I’m comfortable leaving them to it.
I walk upstairs and knock on Maple’s door.
‘Come in,’ she says, her voice more deflated than I’d expect from a rising star in the world of streetwear.
‘Morning, my Maple honey,’ I say, as I walk into her bedroom. ‘Are you nearly ready to go?’
Maple shrugs. ‘I guess.’ She unfurls from the bed and gives me a weak smile.
She’s wearing light wash barrel-leg jeans with a tan and brown asymmetric scoop-necked top.
Her long hair is hanging loose on her shoulders, and her skin is shining with freshly applied moisturizer. In other words, she looks amazing.
‘Did you do a “get ready with me” video this morning?’ I ask, almost rhetorically – she knows the schedule as well as I do. ‘Can you airdrop it to my laptop, and I’ll edit it when I get back from the school run?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I haven’t done any filming this morning,’ she adds in a mumble.
I feel an odd mix of fury and concern. Because Maple did seem exhausted on our car ride back from the airport last night, her head hanging low over her phone the whole time.
It’s not a good enough excuse – this pace is something she needs to get used to – but I also can’t roll back time and make her get ready again.
‘Okay. Should we do a quick short?’ I suggest. ‘You look so beautiful.’
‘I’m not really …’
‘Just a quick TikTok then, ten seconds max.’
‘Jeez, Mom, can you give me one morning off?’
Her words are so shocking that I flinch. ‘Can we take a moment to remember who’s helping who here?’ I shoot back. ‘I work around the clock for you, Maple! I shouldn’t have to deal with this attitude too.’
Slowly, she lifts her eyeline to mine, and thank goodness, she looks contrite. ‘I’m sorry.’
I take in a deep breath. Remind myself that she’s a teenager, that her period is probably due or something. I hold up my phone again. ‘So you can find a smile for me?’
She sighs. ‘I guess.’
I ignore her reluctant tone and open the camera app. And luckily, Maple switches straight to performance mode – pout, eyebrows, giggle – and gets it perfect on the first go. ‘Should we head downstairs now?’ I ask, feeling a rush of relief that I’ve got my daughter back.
‘Mom, would it be okay if I didn’t go to school today?’
I frown. Maple is usually desperate to catch up on her schoolwork after a day playing hooky. ‘Why?’
‘Everyone’s just waiting to break up and it’s so boring.
There’s honestly no point.’ As she stares furtively at the floor, I think about the school run, and how bad the traffic always is.
And how her being around would give us more time to film the smoothie content.
‘Well, I guess you could stay home, if that’s what you want. ’
Her face breaks into a big smile. ‘Thanks, Mom.’
I kiss the top of her head. ‘I’ll tell the twins,’ I say. ‘No point tackling the traffic just for them.’