“This is all so nice.” Hanna’s heart expanded, just like the Grinch’s. This was definitely the nicest thing her dad had done for her in a long, long time.
Her father passed around plates, and everyone began serving themselves latkes and pieces of brisket bathed in sauce. Hanna took a moderate amount of food, feeling virtuous from boot camp. Wine was poured—even Hanna and Kate got some—and everyone opened their gifts. Kate and Hanna got gift cards to Fermata Spa. Isabel got a small Christmas tree–shaped charm to add to her silver Pandora bracelet. Mr. Marin had given himself a new Swiss Army knife. He immediately unfolded the scissors and cut the tag off of Isabel’s bauble.
Then, Mr. Marin launched into stories about Bubbe Marin, who used to make the best potato pancakes in the world. “We used to go over there every night of Hanukkah,” he explained. “She’d always have huge gifts for Hanna.”
“Isn’t that sweet,” Isabel trilled, looking surprised, as though she’d never imagined someone would shower Hanna with gifts.
“And she had this African gray parrot, Morty,” Mr. Marin went on, spearing a latke. “He knew every swearword in the world.”
“He was crazy!” Hanna giggled. “I think I learned some new ones from him!”
“And he loved to watch those tabloid shows—what were they called?” Mr. Marin’s face was flushed.
“E! News,” Hanna repeated. “He was obsessed with Giuliana Rancic. Remember? He said she was such a pretty bitch in that crazy bird voice!”
“Who’s Giuliana Rancic?” Isabel asked, blinking quickly.
Hanna’s father was too busy shaking with laughter to answer. Hanna laughed too, also not bothering to fill Isabel in. It felt nice to have an inside joke with her father again, something from their lives before Isabel and Kate.
They continued eating, sharing stories about Hanna’s grandmother’s obsessions with yard sales, animal figurines, and her crush on Bob Barker from The Price Is Right. By the time the meal was over, Hanna and her dad kept bursting into laughter but not bothering to explain themselves. Isabel rose to clear the table, but Mr. Marin waved her to sit down. “I can clean up,” he said.
“I’ll clean up, too,” Kate volunteered quickly.
Hanna set her jaw. “No, I’ll clean up with you, Dad.” The last thing she wanted was for Kate to usurp her father’s love again.
Mr. Marin grinned. “Hey, if both of you are going to clean up, I guess you don’t need me!” He stacked the plates and handed them to Hanna. “How about you wash, Kate dries?”
Hanna stared at the congealed latke on her plate, wondering if this was a trick on her father’s part to get her and Kate to bond.
Kate was already filling the sink with soap by the time Hanna walked in with all the dishes. “So did you like your little celebration?” she said in an icy voice, handing Hanna a dishrag.
“It was very nice,” Hanna answered just as frostily.
“My mom and I baked for hours.” Kate wiped imaginary sweat off her brow. “You could have at least helped out. So where were you after school, anyway?”
Hanna plunged her hands into the scalding hot water. “Just . . . out and about. Doing some shopping. Going to the gym. I didn’t know you were going to do this for me.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. “For four hours? That’s quite a marathon shopping session. Or a marathon workout.”
She stared at Hanna for a long beat. Hanna held Kate’s gaze, trying her hardest not to give anything away. There was no chance in hell she was going to tell Kate about the holiday boot camp. She’d never hear the end of it.
Kate leaned against the counter and narrowed her eyes. “I think someone’s hiding something.”
“No, I’m not,” Hanna snapped a little too quickly. “Maybe you’re hiding something.”
Kate froze. “I . . .” She tossed the dish towel onto the island. “Neither am I,” she said tightly, then whipped around and headed for the hall.
Hanna listened to her footfalls on the stairs, then the heavy slam of Kate’s bedroom door. Okaaay. Kate’s abrupt disappearance meant she’d have to clean up all on her own, but maybe that was all right. It felt like she’d just won an argument without even trying. And with Kate, that was nothing short of a miracle.
Chapter 8
A Sexy Stretch Does the Body Good
The following morning before school, Hanna gazed at herself in the Body Tonic full-length mirror and adjusted the straps of her black Lululemon tank top. Then she twisted around and checked out her butt in the matching black-and-pink short-shorts, pleased to see that her legs looked toned and sexy. She dabbed tinted moisturizer on her cheeks and nose, ran a tube of gloss across her lips, reshaped her shiny auburn hair into a ponytail, and spritzed a little bit of Aveda Chakra 4 on her pressure points. Every guy she’d met went crazy for the scent. Lucas had loved it—until he’d gone to a nude beach with Puke-a-tan and forgotten all about her. She still hadn’t received a single text from him. She had flipped over all the pictures of him in her room so she wouldn’t have to look at his cornflower-blue eyes and wonder if Brooke was staring into them right then.
Hanna was actually excited for class to start. At least when Vince was barking out orders, she was too distracted to feel sad about Lucas. As she pushed open the door to the fitness room, she heard moans. “That feels so, so good,” someone said.
Hanna paused, wondering if a couple had ducked into the room for an early morning make-out session—ew. But then she caught a flash of a familiar red T-shirt. One of the boot campers was lying on the floor, her legs up in the air. Vince was standing above her, pressing on her foot to stretch her hamstring.