“Okay, God,” Parker muttered.
She made a face at Cassie when Erin wasn’t looking. Cassie shrugged. Erin was kind of being a bitch, but she was stressed, was all.
Parker ate a bagel and then helped with the now-cooling figs. She spread goat cheese on them and then Cassie wrapped each one in prosciutto. Erin left them in the kitchen to go clean the rest of the house.
“She gets like this sometimes,” Parker said, “before having people over. Acts like it’ll be the end of the world if everything isn’t perfect. She usually at least lets me wake up before being so pissy, though.”
“It’s fine,” Cassie said, because it was. It wasn’t a big deal.
“She just like—” Parker spread some cheese on a fig too enthusiastically and got it all over her fingers. She didn’t clean it off, just reached for the next fig. “She does this stuff, like going all out as a hostess. And it’d be one thing if it seemed like she liked it, but I feel like she just does it because it’s what she thinks is expected of her. Like, my grandma was a big hostess, so my mom thinks she’s supposed to be.”
Cassie went to the fridge for more prosciutto because she didn’t know how she was supposed to respond.
“What?” Parker’s voice was accusatory. “Are you best friends with my mom now since you’ve been cooking together? Are you on her side?”
Cassie laughed. “I’m best friends with you.”
Parker grinned, and Cassie realized that might be the first time she’d ever called Parker her best friend.
“Of course I’m on your side,” Cassie continued. “It’s not like I give a fuck about what people think about your house. But I’m on your mom’s side, too. She made us two bomb-ass meals and lets you sleep in as long as you want. We can help her a little.”
“Whatever,” Parker said. “I didn’t come home to be put to work, you know?”
Cassie cut a strip of prosciutto and gave Parker a little side-eye, not that she was looking.
“She flew me up here,” Cassie said. “I figure the least I can do is help make some appetizers.”
That shut Parker up, thankfully.
Seriously, Erin flew her out here. She’d spent more on Cassie than Cassie’s own mom had spent in years. Erin might not have been perfect, but Cassie sure as hell wasn’t complaining about a little cooking and cleaning.
That was absolutely not an accurate portrayal of why Cassie was so okay helping with party prep. Erin needed help. It may have been pathetic, but that was reason enough for Cassie to pitch in.
After the figs came prepping shrimp puffs to be cooked right before people arrived tomorrow. Parker had lunch plans with her dad, so once they finished the puffs, she tugged Cassie upstairs as she went to change.
“Do you want to come with?” she asked, flipping through her closet looking for an outfit. “I don’t want to leave you here with my mom when she’s in such a mood.”
“I’m good.”
Cassie sat on Parker’s bed and leaned back on her arms. Erin wasn’t that bad, and certainly no worse than Adam. Cassie thought of his smarmy smile when they met and wanted to punch him all over again.
“I mean, she’ll probably be okay because you’re not her daughter,” Parker said. “But I don’t want her to work you too hard.”
She can work me as hard as she wants. Cassie fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Ran a hand over her face.
“Everything I do means there’s less for you to do,” she said. “So your mom gets less stressed so she’s less mad at you and you’re less annoyed by her and everyone’s happy.”
And Cassie was happy, too, both to be around Erin and to not be around Adam.
As Parker headed out the door, Erin said, “Remind your father he’s bringing ham tomorrow.”
“I know, Mom, you’ve told me three times already.”
Erin sighed. Parker gave Cassie a wave and the door closed behind her. Erin turned in a full circle, eyes darting from the table in the foyer to the entrance to the kitchen to the hallway toward the bathroom.
“You don’t have to help,” she said, looking very much like she needed help.
“Let’s eat lunch,” Cassie said. “Then we can work.”
“I can’t break for lunch,” Erin said. “I have to go pick up loaves of bread from the bakery and make the pecan pie; the apple can wait until the morning. I want to mop the floors but we probably don’t have time. The downstairs bathroom needs to be—”