“Me? I am not intimidated by this,” he said. He waved his hands to encompass my whole being. I was wearing a deep purple broomstick skirt with biker boots, and a long black crocheted vest over a white cotton dress shirt, which I had buttoned to my throat, with the cuffs folded back at my wrists. It was definitely one of my artsier looks.

I glanced at him. Dress shirt, shiny shoes, creased slacks, and a power tie. He was the very definition of fragile male, trying to hide behind designer labels.

“Right,” I said. I was pleased that I had executed it with the correct amount of sarcasm. Like frosting on a cupcake, the ratio was important. I stepped closer to him, getting into his personal space, or leaning in as some might say, and said, “I wouldn’t start planning your move to my office anytime soon if I were you.”

And then because the universe loves a fighter, the elevator arrived with a ding as if to punctuate my words. As the doors slid open, I stepped inside and turned to face him, blocking his entry. “I’ll send it back up.”

Nick

12

“She’s persistent, you have to give her that,” Jackson said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the hippo in a tutu, singing “You Got a Friend in Me” to me. It was not my birthday; there was nothing special about this date in early March in any way, shape, or form.

“Me . . .” the hippo concluded the song. It did a pirouette and then handed me a bunch of balloons and a note.

I looked at Jackson. “Tip her . . . him . . . it.”

Jackson sighed and pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. He handed the hippo a twenty and it blew kisses at us as it jogged down the steps toward its brightly colored van.

“You were wonderful!” Lupita cried, laughing and clapping.

I handed her the balloons. There was no way I could navigate my wheelchair and the balloons and get back into the house. Plus, I was very aware that I bore a horrible resemblance to the old man in the animated movie Up, being in a wheelchair with helium balloons all around me, but, of course, Lexi didn’t know that.

I spun around and Juan opened the door, letting me through so I didn’t have to hit the automatic door opener. I felt hot and itchy in my own skin. The hippo had said, “This is from Lexi,” before it broke into song. At this point, as soon as the bright-colored van had shown up, I’d known it was from her. What was my little sister playing at, and why did it have my emotions rocketing all over the place? Over the past week, she’d been relentless. Every other day had brought a new message from her in some form or another.