Excerpt of A Little Ray of Sunshine by Kristan Higgins

That evening, six members of the Smith family pulled into the parking lot of Truro Vineyards in five different vehicles. Grandpop and me in my car, Robbie, Lark and  our cousin Cynthia in her aging BMW, a gift from her ex-husband. She saw us and frowned.

“What’s Dolores Umbridge doing here?” Robbie muttered to me.

“Cynthia, my dear!” said Grandpop. “Aren’t you pretty!”

“Is Grandpop going blind?” Robbie whispered.

By now we were standing in a group in the parking lot. 

“First rule,” Winnie said, “no one asks Harlow a single question about her kid. Second rule, you all charm the pants off everyone you talk to. You too, Cynthia. I need your demographic. Third, Robbie, flirt with everyone. I’m low on straight males.”

“I’d say no, but you scare the poop out of me.”

“I’ll be your wingman, Robbie,” Grandpop said. “Do people still use that term?”

“They do,” Robbie said. “I’ll be yours, too, Pop. 

We walked across the grass, herded by Winnie, to a white tent. Truro Vineyards, just down Route 6 from Wellfleet, was idyllic with rolling fields and lush grounds. Since summer wasn’t in full swing yet, it wasn’t as mobbed as it usually was.

Weird, that I was having all these normal thoughts when my whole heart throbbed at the thought of seeing my son again. He wanted to get to know me. It made me euphoric and terrified at the same time. The last time I’d seen him was the day he was born…Oh, God. Remembering that day in any sort of detail would just about kill me.

A sign in front of the tent said, “Welcome, Cape Cod Singles!” in case we didn’t feel uncomfortable enough. There were about twenty people here, not counting the Smiths—Reverend White from the Congregational church (reputedly a bit of a man-whore, but judge not, of course). Lucy Greene, who worked at Blue Willow Bakery (I’d marry her just for her cranberry orange muffins). Louisa from Chequessett Chocolates, which I sold at Open Book.

“Hey,” said a voice.

I turned. “Grady! Hey. What are you doing here? ” The penny dropped. “Oh. Right. Sorry.  Are you…um, on the market again? Oh, gosh. Cringey. Sorry.”

His eyes crinkled in amusement. “It’s okay, and yeah. Figured it’s time to start dating again.”

“Who’s looking after Luna? Your mom and dad, or your nanny?”

“She’s with the nanny. Probably asleep by now.”

“Got it.” What time had Matthew gone to bed when he was four? Had he been a good sleeper?

“You looking to date, Harlow?” Grady asked.

“Me? Oh, God, no,” I said. “I mean, no judgment, of course…I’m just here because Winnie summoned me. You know, my life is in a bit of turmoil. On account of…my son.” God. Those two words. “I think I’ll be spending some time with him next week,” I said, hoping it was true.

Grady handed me a napkin, and I wiped my eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

“Oh, sure. Crying is my resting state since Tuesday.”

“Okay, people!” Winnie said in her drill sergeant voice. “Thank you for coming to Outer Cape Singles Night. We’ll do this speed-dating style, so take a seat, and those of you lucky people on this side—” she indicated one side of a long table— “move one seat over every time the bell rings. You have five minutes with each person. Everyone can talk to everyone. It doesn’t have to be a romantic connection. Maybe you just want a new friend.”

“I do not,” Robbie said at the same time Grandpop said, “What a wonderful thought!”

He  plunked himself down on the “stay put” side of the table across from a very cute thirty- something guy with lots of gel in his hair and very long eyelashes. I was across from an attractive woman with short gray hair and many tattoos on her sculpted arms.

“Five minutes starting now!” Winnie said.

“I’m Kate,” my person said. “You smell amazing. Jo Malone?”

“Um…no. Deep Woods Off.” I laughed. She did, too. “Listen, Kate, I’m not actually looking for someone. I’m here with my grandfather. Also, I’m straight. Sorry.”

“Oh,” she said. “Super.” She leaned back in her chair and waved to a waiter, who was carrying a tray of wine-filled glasses.

“Hello!” said my grandfather to the young man. “I’ll go first. I’m looking for someone to take care of me in my dotage. Not quite there yet, though!”

“Cool!” said the young man. “I’m Drummer. Are you wealthy?”

“Okay,” said I, leaning against Grandpop so Drummer would know my grandfather was chaperoned. “At least you’re direct. I’m his granddaughter and wingman. There will be no sugar daddy situations here.”

“You’re a drummer!” exclaimed Grandpop. “How wonderful!”

“No, he said, “my name is Drummer, and I’m not at all against having a sugar daddy.”

“What did I just say, Drummer?” I asked, rapping my knuckles on the table.

“Do you play other instruments?” Grandpop asked.

“Nope. My name, not my gig.”

“I see. Do you have any experience in nursing, sponge baths or cooking soft food?” Grandpop asked.

“I could learn, I guess,” Drummer said. “I have, like, mad respect for the greatest generation? World War II heroes, saving the world, am I right?”

“He’s just a bit younger than that,” I said, “but he did serve in Korea.”

“We had a war with Korea?” Drummer asked. “Oh, you’re joking. I get it. Do you like K-pop, sir?”

„God, this generation is stupid,“ Kate said.

“We certainly did have a war with Korea, young man!” said Grandpop. “Now, listen, Cymbal. I’ve never been with anyone but my wife, God rest her soul. Not sure I can even function in that respect anymore, no offense to yourself. You’re a very handsome boy—”

“Next!” Winnie yelled

A gorgeous, dark-haired woman around forty slide into the chair across from Grandpop. “Hello, papi,” she said with a slight Latin accent, grinning.

“Well, aren’t you lovely! Do you like old men?”

“Let’s find out,” she said. Oh, yeah. Grandpop would have a great time with her. Across from me was Grady. “Hey, there,” I said with a smile.

“Hi.” He smiled back, just a little, his green eyes creasing attractively. I could hardly see the skinny boy who’d been my friend all those years ago, because the man in front of me was…well, manly. Tall. Wicked nice shoulders.

“I’ll be your guinea pig,” I said, clearing my throat. “What qualities are you looking for in a partner, Gray?”

He gave a nod, eyes down, a little smile. “Kindness would be the first. Intelligence. Someone who loves kids, as I have a four-year-old daughter.”

“Well, that rules me out,” I said. “I’m terrified of children.”

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“I’m terrified of most children,” I corrected. “Your child is quite nice. Anyway, what are your hobbies, kind sir?”

“I like trivia nights,” he said, smiling again.

“Have you heard of the Kingslayers?” I asked, naming our team.

“Their reputation is terrifying,” he answered. “Also, I love being on the water and love swimming, being out in my boat, snorkeling and scuba diving.”

“Imagine if you didn’t. It would make your job much harder.”

Another appealing smile. “I also love doing things with my daughter.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Reading to her. Going to Story Time with Grandpop.”

“Fabulous answer. What else?”

“Taking her on hikes, doing art projects. She loves to be pushed on the swing. We go to the beach every day, and she picks up shells and rocks, and we put them in a big glass bowl on the coffee table.”

Is that what it would’ve been like if I’d kept Matthew? All those wholesome activities the Cape offered? My eyes were suddenly stinging. Again.

“Next!”

My baby brother plunked down in front of me, and a fifty- something woman sat across from Grandpop.

“You are so my type,” Robbie said. “I feel like I already love you.”

“Hello!” Grandpop said. “I’m Robert J. Smith, Esquire. And you are, my dear?”

“I’m Lisa B. Townsend, M.D.” she said, smiling.

Grandpop practically gasped at his good luck. “Can you tell me why my left calf muscle cramps every night at 9:45? Wakes me out of a sound sleep.”

“Pop, you definitely have game,” Robbie said.

The doctor laughed. “Lots of people get those, especially as we get older.”

“Should I hire a masseuse? I know there’s a little place in Orleans, but the windows are papered over with palm tree posters, and I can’t see inside.”

“Those massage therapists are actually sex workers, Grandpop,” Robbie said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“No comment.”

“Massage can help, but make sure you get a certified massage therapist,” said Dr. Lisa. “Eat lots of fruits and veggies. You can also have a gin and tonic every night. Quinine, which is in tonic water, can help a lot.”

“Oh, I like that suggestion very much!” Grandpop said. “Now. Do you think you’d like to date me?”

“I’m looking for someone a little closer to my age, but if I were thirty years older, definitely,” she said.

“What about this mole on my neck?” Grandpop asked, pulling his collar down. “It has hair growing out of it!”

“Next!” called Winnie.

An hour later, we were done. Grandpop had four numbers, three from age-appropriate women, one from the woman who’d called him papi. Robbie had sixteen from males and females alike, Lark had five, I had none, as per my wishes. I wondered how many Grady had…he was talking with someone I’d never met before. Good for him.