Chapter 11
ELEVEN
That evening, after Emily woke up from a nap, the rain was still falling; a heavy mist of heat and salt hovering over the patio. The Gulf was barely visible through the thick gray haze.
“I ran out in this awful rain for you all.” Sienna threw a handful of magazines, three new novels, and a deck of playing cards on the coffee table. “If we’re stuck inside, we’ll need something to do… And I had to get out of the house. I’m going stir-crazy already.”
Sienna plopped down on the sofa next to Emily and Blair while Blair scrolled through her phone. Just as Emily was reaching for one of the novels to read the back, Blair let out a loud exhale.
“Oh my gosh.”
Emily looked over. “What?”
“The latest conspiracy theory is that I ran off with all the endorsement money to live in the wild with Rocko and the baby. Since Rocko’s in construction, he’s built us an off-grid mansion.”
Emily couldn’t hold in her laugh. “The latest?”
Blair folded her thin legs underneath her. “There are a ton of conspiracy theories online about what happened to me; I’ve just been ignoring them all.”
Sienna scooted closer, interest sparkling in her eye. “What are the others?”
Blair clicked off her phone and set it on the coffee table. “Well, there’s the one that I’ve had triplets, and I starved myself so I could look thinner during my pregnancy, and now we’re all in the hospital fighting for our lives.”
Sienna’s mouth hung open.
“How awful,” Emily said.
Blair nodded. “Another one floating around is that I had a nervous breakdown, I’ve turned on everyone, become impossible to live with, and refuse to get any help, so Rocko’s raising the baby.”
Emily gasped.
“People are crazy,” Sienna said, making a face as she crossed her legs on the sofa.
“What’s crazier,” Emily added, “is that as much as you share about you and Rocko online, they have no idea who you really are.”
Blair shook her head. “Someone always has something to say, you know? It didn’t bother me before, but now, every time someone takes a jab, it’s as if they’re poking that raw part of me that’s still healing from losing the baby.”
“I’d be furious. Don’t you want to set the record straight?” Sienna asked.
“Who cares what they think?” Blair said. But the sadness on her face gave away how the lies affected her.
Sienna squinted hatefully at Blair’s phone. “They’re so busy blaming you for the silence. I’ll bet it would shut them up really quickly to find out what you’ve been dealing with.”
Blair shrugged. “I’m not out to prove any points to anyone. I thought my core fans were kinder, that’s all. And seeing how some of them are reacting makes me question if I want to ever resume posting. I thought I’d created this wonderful community, but have I?”
“I’m sure they’re not all like that,” Emily said. “And your true fans might really want to know. They’re probably worried about you.”
“Yeah.” Blair let out a long exhale. “I waffle back and forth with whether I want to continue. I do have to manage my paid endorsements. That’s what I was doing in my room a while ago—reaching out to the companies to let them know what happened.
The ones who responded have been very understanding.
But even still, how do I ever get back online after the trauma and then all the hate? ”
“I think you’ll know when the time is right,” Emily said.
“I have gotten some really good footage of our trip so far.” Blair brightened. “If I break up the content into bite-sized pieces, I’ll have enough for a good two weeks.”
Sienna pulled a fashionable large-weave cotton blanket from the arm of the sofa and draped it over her legs. “Posting about us during a beach rainstorm might be a lighthearted way to get back into it.”
Blair laughed. “I am going to have to address the elephant…”
“Maybe you could post an unrelated video with a quick explanation in the comments,” Emily suggested. “Just say that you’ve had a family tragedy, and you prefer to keep the details private until you’re ready to share them—if ever.”
“I should talk more with Rocko about how to manage it. He’ll have some wild idea none of us have thought of.”
“You do need to talk to Rocko,” Emily said. “And, Sienna, you also need to break the news to Tyson.”
“It feels so easy, sitting here,” Sienna said. “I tried once, but I chickened out. And at home we’re in the busy swing of things, and life gets in the way. I end up falling into bed exhausted. I should probably tell him when he comes. But I don’t want to ruin our trip together, you know?”
“Ruin?” Emily said. “His son or daughter is on the way. You might find he’s more open to that than you think.”
“It’ll be good when they get here,” Blair said.
“I don’t want to spend the whole trip talking about our issues, though.” Sienna shook her head. “This is our vacation. Our problems will still be there when we get home.”
“I agree,” Blair said. “We need the weekend to be a chance to have some couple time with our guys.” She turned to Emily. “Sorry, Em. Are you going to be okay once they get here?”
“I’ll be fine,” Emily said. “This might be a really great opportunity for both of you. Tyson wants to take off work, which he never does, and Rocko’s fishing trip fell through.
It’s perfect timing. I could get some quiet moments in—believe me, I’m very happy to spend my days away from Will and his drama back at home. ”
“We won’t leave you out, Emily, we promise,” Sienna said.
Blair leaned in. “Agreed.”
Sienna clapped her hands happily. “This rest of the week, though, it’s just us girls. Rain or shine, we’ll make the most of it.”
The doorbell chimed, echoing throughout the large house.
Sienna threw the blanket off her legs. “I’ll bet that’s our chef. Right on time.” She folded the blanket, then went to let Patrick in. “I’m starving.”
A minute later, Patrick shuffled through the open living area with armfuls of bags as he had before. But tonight he’d brought a little something extra: Winston was on his heels.
Emily got up and walked through the living area and into the kitchen while Blair called the boy over to say hello.
“Sorry.” Patrick eyed Winston across the room, but didn’t elaborate.
“What are you sorry for?” Emily asked.
“I don’t usually bring my nephew to my clients’ homes, but I had no way around it.”
Winston ran across the room, returning to his uncle.
Emily greeted the boy. “I’m Emily.”
“I’m Winston. I’m six.”
She adored him already. “I hear you’re helping your uncle this evening.”
“Yeah, my mom’s finishing up a meeting for her class. She couldn’t leave early because it’s supposed to storm, and this was their last chance to get together.”
“Oh?” Emily grinned at him, finding his animated chattering endearing. “What class is she taking?”
“She’s taking a couple of them. She’s studying to be a nurse.”
“Wow. That’s pretty cool.” Emily pulled out one of the barstools. “Want to sit up here and watch your Uncle Patrick make our dinner?”
Winston climbed onto the barstool while Emily held it steady. Taking advantage of the rotating seat, he began to spin himself around, pushing off the counter.
“Uncle Patrick and I are coming up with ideas for how to pay for Mom’s college,” he said as he spun.
Patrick pouted fondly at him and shook his head, seemingly trying to indicate that the subject of finances wasn’t something to share.
But Winston continued. “He might try a long-term rental or something.”
“A long-term rental? You know about those?” Emily asked with a chuckle.
“Not really, but Uncle Patrick said it to Mom. His restaurant uses up a lot of his savings, but he’ll make them back ten… What was it, Uncle Patrick? Oh! Tenfold.” He wrinkled his nose. “What even is tenfold?”
“It means ‘a lot,’” Patrick said. “But let’s talk about something else. We don’t want to bore Emily.”
Winston pouted in thought. “I play basketball,” he said.
Emily nodded to show her interest. “You do?”
“Yeah. And since the tables aren’t up in the restaurant yet, Uncle Patrick lets me shoot hoops in the main dining room.”
“What restaurant?” she asked.
“What’s it gonna be called again, Uncle Patrick?”
He took the last dish out of his bag. “It’s called The Low Tide Supper Club.”
Sienna perked up from the living room. “Isn’t that the one we passed earlier?” she called over.
“I think so,” Emily said. She turned back to Patrick. “We actually drove past it. The building is beautiful.”
He continued to prepare dinner, but a softness shone around his eyes. It was clear he was proud of it.
Sienna and Blair clicked on the TV in the living room and began talking quietly, the moment gone. Neither were super impressed with Patrick’s cordiality so Emily could see why they didn’t feel inclined to get up and make conversation.
“So you’re a personal chef and you own an up-and-coming restaurant?” Emily pressed.
“Mm hm.” But Patrick didn’t add anything. Instead, he pushed the covered dishes toward her. “I cooked earlier so I could heat dinner up quickly, given the weather,” he said with an inconspicuous nod toward Winston. “I’ve got steak and shrimp tonight.”
“Mom’s only got a few more classes, and then she’ll be done,” Winston said, continuing with their previous conversation. His little chest puffed out with a breath. “Then I won’t have to cook with Uncle Patrick as much.”
“Hey, I thought you liked cooking with me.” Patrick wrinkled his nose playfully.
“Yeah, but you do it a lot.” Winston nodded, his little eyebrows raised.
Emily laughed. His candor warmed her.
Patrick glanced over at them as he took the lids off the food—baked potatoes, steak, salad, and shrimp in some sort of delicious-looking creamy sauce with parsley and herbs.
“How long has your mom been taking classes, Winston?” Emily asked, going to the cabinet to get a glass so she could offer him some lemonade.
“Since before my dad died.”
Her breath caught.
“She stopped for a while after that. But now she’s taking some again.”
“Oh. I see.”