Chapter 9
Kirsten
I listen to Garrett’s truck roll onto the driveway and breathe a sigh of relief. Because it means I can get on with taking Maple to the mall, getting her out of this black mood, and then back in time to film the damn smoothie content with her actually smiling.
‘Hey, how was fishing?’ I ask, pretending to care.
‘Yeah, good.’ Garrett strolls into the kitchen. He reaches for a glass and holds it against the water tap on the fridge. Even from here, I can see that his hands are grubby, that he’ll leave smudges on my shiny fridge, but I manage to control my annoyance.
‘I went down to Provo Canyon,’ he goes on. ‘Trout are bigger on that stretch. Caught three beauties.’
‘Right, great.’ I push up to standing and drop my phone into my bag. That’s plenty enough conversation about fish. ‘Listen, I’m taking Maple to the mall,’ I continue. ‘So you’re in charge of the twins.’
His face scrunches in confusion. His handsome, chiseled, Chris Hemsworth-like face – otherwise I’d probably have kicked him out years ago. ‘Aren’t the kids at school?’
‘No. But I don’t have time to explain it all now. Oh, and can you get the twins to help you gut the fish? And film it? Ash will love it so we might even get a smile out of him, and I’m hoping Aspen will hate it, because that will make great content too. All the squealing.’
‘But if she hates it …’
I huff out a sigh. ‘I can’t do everything, Garrett. Can you just help me out this one time?’ Then I head toward the front door, calling for Maple as I go.
Five minutes later, the two of us are on the road.
Provo Towne Centre is our closest mall, but it’s been a while since Maple was happy shopping in JCPenney, so I’m making the forty-minute drive to Salt Lake City instead – which isn’t exactly a chore in my beautiful new Lexus.
Hopefully Urban Outfitters or Zara will take Maple’s mind off the Poop Scoop prank, and maybe there’ll even be time for me to stop by Anthropologie.
Personally, I think Maple’s being overdramatic about her classmates’ antics – it was only kids having fun after all – but who knows where her hormones are at right now; it’s always safer to act sympathetic.
And her sadness is a gift in a way because girly shopping trips always make great content.
Our posts about yesterday’s photoshoot in Vegas have got her thousands of new followers, and I really want to keep the momentum going.
With her not doing the scheduled ‘get ready with me’ video this morning, I need to find something to fill the gap.
I’ve set my phone up on the dash to capture our drive, and I’d love to suggest carpool karaoke – those videos always get a crazy number of likes, and luckily Maple inherited my singing voice – but I get the impression she won’t be up for it today.
In fact, Maple waits until we’re beyond Utah Lake before speaking at all. ‘Thanks for this,’ she finally says, her body shifting slightly toward me. ‘I know how much you’ve got on, so thanks for making time for me.’
I turn to look her. She’s curling her hair around her ears, and the sight makes my heart melt. ‘Don’t be silly. I love spending time with you. Of course I adore the twins, but we were the originals, weren’t we? Mom and Maple forever?’
Maple gives me a small smile. ‘I guess so, yes.’ But then she blinks, and her eyes narrow. ‘Hey, Mom.’
‘Yes?’
She nods her head in the direction of my upright phone. ‘Are you filming us?’
I tap the steering wheel. Wonder why I feel guilty when Maple knows creating content is literally our job. ‘Of course I am,’ I say, calm but firm. ‘Every day is a work day for an influencer, isn’t it? And you’ve got other things on your mind today, so I’m doing the thinking for you.’
‘Wow, thank you so much,’ she mutters before turning to stare out of the window. Which would be nice of her, if the words weren’t drowning in sarcasm.