The Checklist by Addie Woolridge (color ebook reader TXT) 📗

rounded the corner as the room dissolved into laughter, revealing none other than Linda and Patricia Robinson as their guests. Her blood pressure began to rise as she scanned the kitchen for any obvious weapons but found only a half-empty bottle of wine and four people in their midsixties crammed onto barstools. By the time her mother caught sight of her, the mixture of apprehension and curiosity must have solidified on Dylan’s face, because Bernice stopped laughing and lifted her glass to her daughter, drawing the room’s attention to her.

“Hello, dear. Linda and Patricia just stopped by to ask for the Tiger.”

“I’m sorry?” Dylan said, looking around the room.

“Linda was at work complaining about the Tiger in the yard. When her CFO found out who our neighbors were and who made the Tiger, he nearly gave Linda a pay raise to see if he could acquire it.” Patricia cackled at this, smiling at Henry all the while. “It’s the perfect solution to our current stalemate. Mike’s on his way to a conference, so we brought wine and an offer over ourselves.”

“The joke is, Linda will still have to see it every day.” Henry slapped the kitchen table as he took a sip from his glass.

“Only briefly on my way into the office.” Linda laughed, then looked at Dylan’s polite smile. “Did you just get home from work?”

“Yes. She has been burning the late-night oil at that job,” Bernice said, unaware that she had just botched the colloquialism.

“So late. Do you need dinner? Let me get you some wine,” Linda said, looking between Bernice and Dylan with concern before hopping off the barstool and making her way around the kitchen as if she had lived in the Delacroix house for years. Watching her find a glass in the kitchen was almost too much. It was like living in an episode of Doctor Who. At any moment the quartet of adults would time travel away from common ground and go back to the long-held tradition of passive-aggressive neighborly bickering.

Unless there was a way to maintain the common ground. The thought twisted around Dylan’s tired mind as Linda poured an immaculately precise glass of wine. Not so much as a drop was left to run down the bottle.

“Here you go, hon.” She passed Dylan her glass, simultaneously draining her own.

“It’s getting late. We should probably get out of your hair,” Patricia said, standing up and finishing her glass as well.

“We’ll walk you out. You know, this was fun—”

“Actually, I have an idea,” Dylan said, shooting her father an apologetic look for cutting him off.

“Oh? What’s that?” Patricia said, smiling at Dylan as if she had all the time in the world for her.

“Well, it’s just that if Linda’s company is interested in Dad’s work, I think there may be a way for y’all to collaborate with Technocore and help Crescent at the same time.” Dylan paused, suddenly unsure of how to phrase her idea without raising suspicion about her and Mike’s not-relationship.

“Yes?” Linda asked, filling the gap in Dylan’s thinking time.

“Technocore is partnering with the museum on the sensory room. Maybe Dad would consider a large-scale digital installation, if your company would be interested in sponsoring it and a couple other things at the museum?” Avoiding the temptation to rock back on her heels, she forced herself toward the door with the hope that everyone would follow. If anyone got too curious, she would just open the door and shoo them out. Including her parents.

“I love this idea! Linda, we have got to make it happen,” Patricia said, clapping her hands together tightly and bouncing in her ballet flats, the movement reminiscent of her former life as a Grambling State cheerleader. Right now, it seemed she sort of felt like Dylan’s personal cheerleader.

“I think it’d be possible. Let me talk to my boss.”

“Great. I can connect you to the team at Technocore who are handling the sensory room installation. Shoot me an email if you all decide it’s for you. Dad, you can just come to the office with me.” Dylan winked, knowing Henry would absolutely clear his schedule for an impromptu Take Your Dad to Work Day.

“I look forward to it,” her father said as she reached for the door handle, mentally congratulating herself on a touchy situation well handled.

“You are so thoughtful. Does Mike know you are basically a walking, talking dealmaker for Crescent?”

All internal congratulations abruptly came to a halt as Dylan paused midmotion to process the question she had hoped to avoid. Fixing a smile on the lower half of her face, she held the door open before wading into an answer. “Nope. I’m hoping it’ll be a bit of a surprise for the gala. Promise you can keep a secret?”

“This is so fun,” Patricia said, overriding the suspicion brewing in Linda’s eyes. Giving her wife a short shove through the door, she winked at Dylan. “I take it we’ll see you all next Friday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Bernice called over Henry’s shoulder. Her expression mirrored the suspicion in Linda’s, and Dylan thought it was a wonder the two hadn’t managed to be friends sooner.

“See you then,” Linda called.

“Good night,” Dylan said, her tone a hair too chipper for the time of evening. Turning away from the door, she left her father to enthusiastically wave and watch as their neighbors darted across the street.

Dylan waited until she heard the front door click. “Am I in The Twilight Zone? The Robinsons were just hanging around the house like old friends.”

“Were they?” her father asked, taking his wine into the living room. He stopped to move a pile of books out of a chair before dropping into it. “I guess they were. They came over just after dinner, so they must have stayed awhile.”

“Dad, it’s like ten,” Dylan said, following him into the room. She lowered herself absentmindedly onto a corner of the couch, half-surprised by her willingness to hang out with her parents post–Robinson interaction.

“Well, we haven’t talked to them in