Us. Who the hell is us? Oh, she’s good—already laying another trap for Joy. She could picture it: Summer desperate for approval and complaining to Malcolm about how unfriendly Joy is when all she wants is to be friends. The plaintive but she doesn’t like me combined with a pout molded from sheer manipulative precision.

Summer’s feelings about Fox and Malcolm might be real, but that doesn’t mean she’s in the clear for Joy.

“Cakes are hardly a surprise on a birthday. If it were Malcolm, he’d expect one from me.”

“I’m not good at baking, but you are, right? Malcolm said you were.”

Joy frowns. Exactly how much had Malcolm told Summer about her? “Maybe.”

Summer transitions from dejected to hopeful in a split second, and she takes off practically running to the baking aisle. Joy sighs, following her deeper into the store. When she catches up, Summer is holding two different boxes of cake mix.

Joy asks, “What are you doing?”

“Picking out a cake.”

“From a box?”

Summer doesn’t exactly giggle, but it’s close. “How do you make your cakes?”

“From scratch. Put those down.”

Joy pulls out her phone, thanking the reception gods for blessing her. She opens the recipe book she’s been making—a written collection of all her dad’s best dishes. He cooks everything from memory, never measuring a single spice. Her dupes aren’t an exact match and have lost some of that daddy magic, but Joy wants a record for her family to share and have always. She even started adding a few of her own baking recipes, mostly cakes and pastries, that she had perfected. Her sisters followed suit too, adding their favorites whenever they remembered. “What kind of cake does Fox like?”

“Angel food?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Chocolate? With some fruit maybe? He loves berries.”

“Any allergies?”

“Nope.”

Malcolm isn’t a fan of berries. He loves her family’s special yellow cake but wouldn’t be opposed to chocolate with the right recipe. “How does he feel about Funfetti?”

“I thought box cake was a no-go?”

“It is. Funfetti is just white cake with melted sprinkles.” Joy keeps scrolling.

“This is so nice of you.” Summer tries to look over her shoulder—Joy moves, hiding the screen, but throws a playful glare to cover up her rudeness. It works. Summer takes a step back, her smile unbothered. “Thank you for doing this. Fox is gonna love it.”

“I’m not doing it for him or you,” Joy says, careful to keep her tone playful. “I happen to enjoy having my cake and eating it too.”

Giggles, giggles, giggles everywhere. “You’re so funny.”

That wasn’t a joke, but Joy lets it stand like one. Maybe Summer is one of those people who only sees the good in everyone.