51. Mandy
51
MANDY
“ G irls, do not touch anything,” my mother warns.
“Mom,” I say. “I live here. It’s fine.”
“Salinger, don’t you want to get some plastic covers on these chairs?” my mother calls to my boyfriend. “Mandy, I said don’t touch anything.” My mom pulls me up off one of the custom Scandinavian-style stools on the porch overlooking Salinger’s lawn.
“Plastic covers?” Gran makes a rude noise. “Now you sound like my mother.”
I head over to my boyfriend and wrap my arms around his waist. He grabs my hand, sliding his fingers over mine.
“Might want to tear up the lawn and plant the variant they used at the Pine Ridge Golf Course,” my dad tells Salinger as they watch in horror as Salinger’s insanely large cohort of half brothers and their families race around on his pristine lawn .
I leave them to go check on the food. When I come back out, the horn is blaring from the yacht as it offloads another set of Salinger’s brothers. The new batch descends onto the lawn for an impromptu game of field hockey.
“It’s like one of those surrealist paintings, right? Like someone’s cloned them,” Aaron Richmond remarks, stepping up beside me. We’d had a big port-contract meeting, and he stayed in town for the get-together.
“You’re one to talk.” I nod to his brother Grayson, also in town for the port contract. He’s with Salinger and my father, all scowling at the grass.
Salinger’s brother Fitz passes a ball to one of the other Svensson brothers. I wince. “Bruno, better watch that stick.”
“You know their names?” Aaron seems impressed.
“I made flash cards, and I’ve been studying.”
“I’ve known these idiots for years and still can’t keep them all straight.”
The hockey stick comes down hard. Grass flies.
“That’s it!” Salinger bellows. “All of you, get off my lawn.”
“What he means is it’s time for lunch!” I call out.
Salinger’s brothers all stream into the house.
“Dad, you hungry?”
“Eat later,” my dad grumbles. Then he picks up his lawn-care tools and goes over to fix the hunk of grass that was torn out.
The new arrivals, flanked by the older Svenssons, follow the pack to the food.
“We have placards with the names and ingredients of the dishes,” Linton announces as the Svenssons head into the great room .
“Don’t bother.” Salinger is disgusted. “They’re like locusts—they eat anything.”
I nod. “And now I see why you built such a large house.” It’s a little overwhelming to have such a huge family in the small space, squabbling over food and jostling each other.
“I’ll say,” Aaron adds, “though I think you didn’t make it big enough, especially once all your siblings have kids.” He starts rattling off numbers. “Not to mention you’re hampered because none of you can sit outside. With all that blond hair, you’ll burn up in the sun.”
“It’s Seattle. They can all sit in the rain.” Salinger is stubborn.
“No one can be on that grass when it’s wet.” My dad pokes his head in from the porch. “Definitely consider doing a kill-off and reseed.”
“Come get something to eat.” My mother tries to pull him inside. “Stop messing with Salinger’s lawn.”
My father regards the Svensson clan apprehensively.
Two of Salinger’s adult brothers are trying to break up a fight between several little blond boys.
A little blond girl, one of Salinger’s nieces, hauls back and throws a glob of potato salad at her sister. “Food fight!”
“Absolutely not!” Salinger and several of his brothers bellow at once.
The kids are herded outdoors.
“See?” Salinger hisses at me. “This was a terrible idea. I told you—it’s insanity.”
“Just breathe.” His brother Crawford grins, pushing him back outside. “Look at your lawn. Smell the ocean air. Don’t think about the very expensive window that now has a chair through it.”
“How— ”
“I really just want to commend you on what a great Fourth of July party this is,” a little kid tells Salinger, his plate piled high with hamburgers.
Salinger swipes one. “You’re such a suck-up, Davy,” he says affectionately.
“Stealing food from your little brother.” I elbow him.
Salinger flicks Davy’s ear lightly and takes a bite of the burger. Davy kicks his foot.
“Are you sure you want to marry this guy?” Davy whispers to me behind his hand. “I have a tree house that’s pretty nice. I could make you a better offer.”
Crawford reaches over Davy’s shoulder and takes another burger from his plate.
“Hey!” Davy tries to attack Crawford, who just plants a hand on the little boy’s head while the kid swings ineffectively.
Salinger’s brother grins at me then takes a big bite of the burger. “You really can’t take any of them anywhere.” He jerks his head.
“Get off my grass,” Salinger yells at more of his brothers. Several of them give him the finger and flop down on the lawn.
Another pack crowds around Amy and Lauren, who are feeding Pepper bites of broccoli.
“They have no shame,” Salinger says.
“I could really say the same.” I take the burger from him.
“You want another drink?” Jess asks me, coming up the stairs to the porch. “I need another vodka tonic.”
“Sure, I’ll come with you to the bar.”
“What? No, I don’t have a bar.” Salinger runs after us. “All the alcohol is supposed to be put up. What the hell?”
Inside, Gran is manning the bar. Behind her, in the place of honor, hangs the Renaissance corgi portrait .
“That’s what they need to be destroying, not my windows,” Salinger complains.
“An old-fashioned is five dollars, cash only. This is a cash bar,” Gran repeats as one of the Svensson brothers waves a credit card at her.
“Gran, Salinger doesn’t want alcohol around the kids.”
“Salinger is turning more and more into your father every day,” she says as Salinger’s brothers boo him.
“Can I get a drink before you close the bar?” Salinger asks.
Gran looks him up and down. “Snitches don’t get alcohol.”
In the sunroom, several of Salinger’s teenage brothers are draped all over Isabella, who is milking it all for her live stream.
“Off, off!” Salinger bellows at them, going over to physically drag the teenagers from a pouting Isabella.
Hawthorne shoos the teenagers away with a broom. “Go do something useful. And that better not be alcohol. Hey, get back here!”
“Did Amy and Kenny make up?” Salinger asks me as we head back outside.
“Hell no, but Isabella and Gran are tight, and apparently Isabella’s having issues with her mom, so here she is.”
“My heart goes out to your father.”
In the distance, a Weedwacker starts up as my dad starts edging Salinger’s lawn.
“That man is my spirit animal.” Crawford smiles slyly.
“Orcas!” one of Salinger’s little sisters hollers, pointing to the cliff in excitement.
There’s a mad rush as his family heads to the ocean.
“Do not feed the orcas!” Salinger shouts .
My ears are ringing once the house empties. “So, this is your family.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“I see why you needed a whole island.”
We head into the great room. Most of the table has been picked clean. Linton is already carting out more food.
“We have a whole separate kitchen a few yards away,” he tells me. “No one will starve.”
“Yeah, don’t want a Lord of the Flies situation here.”
I grab one of the sliders, feeding it to Salinger. He grabs my hand and kisses me.
“You’re trapped on my island now—no leaving.”
“Since I’m trapped anyway, we’re having our wedding here, and I don’t want to hear about the grass.”
He smiles. “Only because I love you, we can have a wedding on my lawn.” He nuzzles my neck. “I’m glad you weren’t scared off by my family. That means I can propose.”
“Of course I wasn’t scared. All it’s done is make me want to have a whole pack of kids with you.”
“Does it?” He kisses me again.
“I love you. I want my own hockey team of little Salingers running around!”
“Absolutely not.”
“Absolutely yes!”