Chapter Twenty-Three
Twenty minutes later, after dropping Ben back at his place, we were pulling up to the Woods. The space in front was crowded with cars: Liz’s, the truck, Anne’s, and a bright yellow VW bug I didn’t recognize. Kasey was on the porch, her phone to one ear.
“It’s not exactly a good time. We’re dealing with some family stuff here,” she was saying as we climbed the stairs. A sigh. “Fine. We’ll see you then.”
“Who was that?” Lana asked.
“Some eco-design person from the Tides,” Kasey replied, sounding tired. “It never ends.”
Inside, the house had that late afternoon heat, despite a new-looking fan that was plugged in on the kitchen counter.
My mom was sitting at the table on the porch, in a bathrobe, a bottled water at her elbow.
Her hair, damp, was wavy, like mine for once.
In the hospital her steady annoyance had made her steely. Now she just seemed small and tired.
“Just a quick blood pressure check,” I heard someone say. A beat later, a girl with a short blond bob and large black-framed glasses came out of Juvie. She had on pink scrubs. “Then I’ll just lay out your meds and be on my way.”
“This is really not necessary,” my mom said. “The doctors gave me the all clear.”
“They did,” the girl replied agreeably as she sat down beside my mom, opening a blood pressure cuff. “But until the surgery, we just need to be extra careful.”
My mom rolled her eyes. But she let her wrap the cuff around her arm.
“… well, I think it’s time you put your foot down!” Liz said as she came down the hallway. Anne was behind her. “The wedding is in three weeks.”
“I just hate conflict!” Seeing me, Anne said, “You understand, right, Finley?”
Did I? I was still on my mom, the nurse beside her, that gauge.
“Did you meet Geralin?” Liz asked me, nodding at the nurse as she took a seat next to my mom. “Already a godsend. Geralin, this is Cat’s daughter, Finley.”
The nurse turned, giving me a smile. Her eyewear was clearly part of her look, the bulky frames taking up much of her face. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I replied, taking a seat next to Liz. Anne slid in by the dollhouse.
A beat later, Kasey came in. “The Tides are sending their eco-designer tomorrow to walk the property,” she told her sisters.
“Their what-co designer?” Liz asked.
My mom snorted. Her scorn at this point was reassuring.
“Eco,” Kasey repeated. “Apparently, they’re interested in ‘doing due diligence on the preservation regulations.’ Whatever that means.”
“Maybe it means they won’t tear it all down,” Anne suggested, brightening. “That’s promising.”
“Unlikely,” Kasey told her. “They want the land, nothing else.”
“But we don’t know that for sure,” Liz said, patting Anne’s hand.
“It is supposed to be all new,” I said. “They’re calling it the Coast. They have plans and everything.”
“How do you know that?” Anne asked.
“Cardoon,” Lana said as she came out of our room, twisting her hair up on her head. She’d changed into a pair of shorts and a scoop-necked, flowered shirt, obviously part of her haul from Shannon’s. “So it is probably true. That is his personal brand.”
“Truth?” I asked.
“Honesty, character, et cetera,” she said, flipping a hand.
I needed clarification. “And that’s bad?”
“No,” she replied, although the slight wince on her face was in itself a contradiction. “It’s just different. I mean, for me.”
Anne smiled. “Lana prefers dirtbags.”
“Dirtbags?” Liz repeated.
“What I am comfortable with,” Lana countered, “is a known entity. I don’t like surprises. It’s just easier to stick with the same type.”
“She always goes for the jerk,” Anne said. “That girl Marguerite, last summer? Cheated on her from day one.”
“Yes,” Lana agreed, “but she was very open about it.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “And that water-skier? In his late twenties, supported by his parents, psychotic ex still in the picture.”
To this Lana just shrugged. “It was never dull.”
“Meanwhile, poor Cardoon has been making googly eyes at her for multiple summers. And she won’t even entertain the thought because he’s actually honest and nice.”
Or maybe she would, if Clark was correct. I kept this to myself.
Just then a phone buzzed. Not mine. But it did remind me that I now had one.
“It’s Jonathan,” Anne said, studying her screen. She pulled a knee up to her chest, her brow creasing. “He wants me to come have dinner with his parents. Try to bring down the collective temperature.”
“What happened?” Kasey asked, as Nurse Geralin began to pack up her equipment. My mom, freed, sat back, immediately crossing her arms. If she was this bothered by simple preventative medicine, I couldn’t imagine how she’d handle surgery.
“Well, there was an attempted dress veto by two of the bridesmaids,” Liz explained, as Anne reached into the dollhouse, pulling out the box of furniture. “And now the planner is making allusions to other changes. We’re fighting just to hold our position.”
“It’s not a war,” my mom said.
“It’s not peaceful.”
Anne’s phone buzzed again. Glancing at it, she said, “I should go,” and kissed Liz on the cheek. “Call you later.”
“All right,” Liz said. But she kept her eyes on the door even after it had closed.
“Want me to get your phone set up?” Lana asked me. Then I realized she was holding the bag I’d left on my bed. And then, suddenly, taking out the box itself.
I felt a sudden panic, indescribable. “No,” I said. “I’m… not ready yet.”
“You got a new phone?” my mom asked. “Thank goodness.”
“The house one works,” I pointed out.
“If you’re in the house,” Lana said, as she unwrapped the plastic covering it, then hit a button. There was a series of tinny chimes.
My stomach sank. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“No worries, I love this kind of stuff.” As the phone chirped again, she sighed happily. “There is nothing better than an unscratched screen.”
I had a flash of my old one, hitting the water. Sinking.
“Seriously,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “I want to deal with it later.”
Bing! Bing! How could I already have messages?
“Just chill,” Lana said. “I’m doing it.”
“Don’t.”
The word came before I could stop it. After, Lana got very still. Then a red flush crept up her neck. She quickly put the phone back into the box, fumbling with the top.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. I could feel Liz, Kasey, and my mom all staring. “I just—”
“I get it,” she said stiffly, pushing the bag toward me.
“Lana.”
But she was already on her feet, then walking to the kitchen. I heard the front door bang shut.
Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Liz said, “Dear Lord. What an emotional day.”
“Catherine?” We all turned: Geralin, now with her bag as well as a small crocheted purse over her shoulder, was standing there. “I’m going to go, unless you need anything else or have questions for me. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“My orders are once daily until you leave for the surgery.”
My mom sighed, loudly. “Ridiculous. I’m fine!”
Geralin, unflappable, just smiled. “See you then.”
As she left, Liz yawned, putting a hand over her mouth. “That’s it for me. I need to get home before Trav forgets what I even look like.”
“I’m out too.” Kasey said, getting to her feet as well. “Paperwork tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait,” Liz said, sarcastic, as she pushed her chair in. When she passed me, she squeezed my arm, her palm warm against my skin. “See you then.”
My aunts chatted as they moved through the kitchen and then onto the porch. Then it was just me and my mom.
“Why don’t you want your phone?” she asked after a moment.
“I don’t know.” As soon as I said this, though, I did. “I think as long as I’m not hearing from everyone at home, I can pretend Colin and everything else—”
“… isn’t happening,” she finished for me. Then she turned, facing me. “I understand.”
Christmas? Liz had asked, incredulous, when my mom told her when she’d found the lump. If you could put something squarely out of sight, out of mind was easy.
Now at the end of the dock, I could see a figure, dark. Lana. I thought of that flush creeping up her neck. All she’d wanted to do was help me.
I pushed out my chair. “I should…”
“Go,” she told me. “I’ll see you later.”
I nodded, getting to my feet. As I passed her, I found myself reaching out the way Liz had to me, to squeeze her arm. We weren’t touchy, never had been. She surprised me, though, by putting a hand over mine. Just for a single moment. But when she removed it, I could still feel the weight anyway.
I found Lana sitting at the end of the dock, feet dangling over the water. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey.”
I eased myself down beside her. The lake was dark, the lights from the Tides and the Ebb visible across the way. So many stars overhead.
“Look,” I told her. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
Silence. Distantly a car beeped. Summer, going on as always.
“My phone was such a big part of home. And Colin.” I pulled a knee to my chest, glancing at her. “I’m afraid having it will automatically make me back into the person I was. It’s different here. I’m different here.”
“Well, yeah,” she said. “You’re the daughter of a Bigfoot-slash-bar-fighter, for starters.”
I smiled. “True.”
“Also, a waitress at the home of the best breakfast sandwich in the tri-county area. By popular vote three”—she held up three fingers—“years running.”
“Completely deserved, too.”
“But the biggest thing is that you’re close, personal friends with me. Something you’d never even get close to in Lakeview, as I am one of a kind.”
“If only we could do something about your lack of confidence, though,” I said. She laughed out loud. “And maybe, you know, cure you of the dirtbag thing.”
“It’s not a sickness. It’s a choice.”
“Maybe. But you deserve better.”
She looked at me, one eyebrow raised. Weird how it’s obvious when you’ve said something another person hasn’t heard much. Like you can see it land.
“Look, Finley.” She paused, taking a breath. “You saw my mom. My house. Where I was sleeping before you offered me an actual bed.”
“I did,” I said quietly.