chance I could get an internship at the Royal Anthropological Institute in London.”
“But I thought you said you wanted to go back to work at Montpelier,” Daddy says, his forehead
creased in confusion.
“I’m still figuring things out. Like I said, I haven’t decided anything yet.”
Kitty interjects. “If you do the royal internship, would you get to meet any royal people?”
I roll my eyes, and Margot throws her a grateful look and says, “I doubt it, Kitten, but you never
know.”
“What about you, Lara Jean?” Kitty asks, innocent and round-eyed. “Aren’t you supposed to be
doing stuff this summer to look good for colleges?”
I shoot her a dirty look. “I’ve got plenty of time to figure things out.” Under the table I pinch her
hard, and she yelps.
“You were supposed to be looking for an internship for this spring,” Margot reminds me. “I’m
telling you, Lara Jean, if you don’t act fast, all the good internships will be gone. Also have you
emailed Noni yet about SAT tutoring? See if she’s doing summer school or if she’s going home for
the summer.”
“All right, all right. I will.”
“I might be able to get you a job at the hospital gift shop,” Daddy offers. “We could ride to work
together, have lunch together. It would be fun hanging out all day with your old man!”
“Daddy, don’t you have any friends at work?” Kitty asks. “Do you sit by yourself at lunch?”
“Well, no, not every day. Sometimes I suppose I do eat alone at my desk, but that’s because I don’t
have much time to eat. If Lara Jean worked at the gift shop, I’d make time, though.” He taps his
chopsticks on his plate absentmindedly. “There might also be a job for her at the McDonald’s, but I’d
have to see.”
Kitty pipes up, “Hey, if you got a job at McDonald’s, I bet they’d let you eat fries as much as you
want.”
I frown. I can see a preview into my summer, and I’m not liking what I’m seeing. “I don’t want to
work at McDonald’s. And no offense, Daddy, but I don’t want to work at the gift shop, either.” I think
fast. “I’ve been thinking about doing something more official at Belleview. Maybe I could be the
activities director’s intern. Or assistant. Margot, which sounds more impressive?”
“Assistant activities director,” Margot says.
“That does sound more professional,” I agree. “I’ve got a lot of ideas. Maybe I’ll stop by this
week and pitch them to Janette.”
“Like what?” Daddy asks me.
“A scrapbooking class,” I improvise. “They have so many pictures and tokens and things that
they’ve collected, I think it’d be good to bind it all up in a book so nothing gets lost.” Suddenly I’m on
a roll. “And then maybe we could have a little exhibit, with all of the scrapbooks on display, and
people can flip through them and see their life stories. I could make cheese puffs, there could be white
wine.. .”
“That’s an amazing idea,” Margot says with an approving nod.
“Really great,” Daddy enthuses. “Obviously no white wine for you, but the cheese puffs,
definitely!”
“Oh, Daddy,” we all chorus, because he loves it when we do that, when he gets to be the cheesy
dad (pun intended!) and we all groan like we’re exasperated and say “Oh, Daddy.”
singke
(singke)
#1