Chapter 35 #2
“Calm down,” Alex said to Caroline, her gaze flicking worriedly to Sloane’s again. “Sloane’s just a little upset.”
“I’m not upset,” said Sloane, laughing a little into her wine.
Again, she felt Alex and Caroline exchange glances in her periphery, as if there was something inherently threatening about a woman who managed—despite great personal crisis!
!!!!!!—to stay rational and calm. “I’m curious.
I find I have a deep, intellectual curiosity about this.
I want to know how it works, why it works, and how long it takes to start working. ”
“Scientific method,” remarked Alex dully, with a slight frown.
“Exactly—I’m doing my research,” said Sloane.
“I don’t doubt that whoever Caroline hunts deserves his comeuppance.
Right? I’m not saying we shouldn’t become violent.
Ultimately all movements for liberation do.
” She was talking a little fast, she realized.
A sweat had broken out on her brow, perhaps from all the gesticulating.
“Sloane,” said Alex.
“Dude,” whispered Caroline loudly to Alex. “Is she, like, okay?”
“Just get the stew, Caro—”
“The thing is.” Sloane felt something inside her chest catch fire. “They’re bad apples. Right? They spoil the bunch.” Yes, she was definitely talking too fast.
“Are you talking about cops?” asked Caroline, who turned to Alex. “Is her husband a cop?”
“No, he’s a professor. Sloane,” said Alex, using the voice she used to placate toddlers. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you. Yes, the ritual works, but you shouldn’t use it on anyone you’re close to.”
“Because of cops,” said Caroline.
“Yes, Caroline, thank you—”
“What you need is therapy,” Caroline interjected again.
“No, I’m fine. I’m seriously fine.” Sloane laughed and laughed.
Like: AHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! “You can both stop looking at me like that, okay? I’m just trying to understand the benefits here, you know?
Like, how magical is it? Is it actually magical, or just medicinal?
Have you actually cured anyone of something, or is it more preventative?
Just from your observation, obviously—I mean, look at the followers thing,” she said to Caroline, who’d been trying to surreptitiously remove Sloane’s knife.
“Put that back, I’m fine. Is the followers thing because you’re hot and crazy and have decent video editing skills or is it because you eat human hearts?
Like, can you actually separate correlation from causation?
Methodically speaking, is that something you can do?
I just have to know,” she said, and laughed again, though it sounded wrong.
“Speaking as a sociologist, I have to know.”
She could feel that she’d begun to rant a bit. Alex pushed a bowl of stew toward her and Sloane leaned forward with relief, using the serving spoon to take a bite. The broth was rich, laden with umami from the mushrooms. “Is there miso in here?”
“Yes!” Caroline said excitedly. “Wow, I definitely thought you were too white to notice—”
“Britt sent me a link to a miso carbonara.” Sloane took a bite, then another bite. “Is there some bread?” The words got a bit lost. She was shoving bites in faster than she could chew. “Sorry, so rude, I said—bread?”
“Oh my god, of course,” said Caroline, turning to cut a fresh piece. “I meant to offer you some but you were talking so crazy for a second there, I completely forgot what I was doing—”
“I made the carbonara, you know, thinking that Isla would eat it,” Sloane told Alex, greedily tearing into the bread that Caroline handed her.
“But she didn’t, of course. Wouldn’t even touch it.
Just said ‘no’ and bounced. She asked me for ketchup and that’s all she ate for dinner.
” Sloane swallowed thickly. “Guess how much iron is in ketchup?”
“It’s just a phase,” Alex said. Her eyes were filled with something now. Worry. Pity. It was familiar, Sloane realized.
It was motherly.
“She’ll be okay,” Alex said, and her voice was gentle, like a friend. Like a sister. “You’re a great mom, Sloane. Lots of picky eaters have turned out okay. You’re doing the best you can for her, and she’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Alex.” No laughter now. Now Sloane’s throat was thick with something. Lust. Love. Did it matter? “Don’t leave me, okay? Don’t leave me.” She said it again and again. In her mind, she just kept going.
“Oh, Sloane.” Alex’s eyes were shiny and soft. “Why would you say that?”
“I need you. You’re my best friend, and you’re the only person—” Sloane broke off, choking. “You’re the only person I trust. I know I called you an insane fucking cannibal and that’s still true.” She wiped thoughtlessly at her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter. I love you so much.”
Alex wrapped Sloane in her arms. “Oh, Sloane. I love you, too.”
Sloane shuddered in Alex’s arms, suddenly crying like her heart was breaking. “It’s so hard,” she said into Alex’s baby-soft cashmere. “It’s so hard. I’m trying so hard—”
“I know, Sloane, I know—”
“Oh! I’ve got a great waterproof mascara I can send you the link for.
Or wait, I think I have some samples,” said Caroline suddenly, scuttling off as she tossed over her shoulder, “It just came out. It’s technically a celebrity brand but I’m like a thousand percent positive she never actually comes in—”
“There’s no way to win,” Sloane sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed.
In her mind, on her cheeks, the dam had broken.
“It doesn’t matter how hard you try, how much you love, how smart you are.
How am I supposed to do it? How am I supposed to tell her to love or to dream when I know goddamn well that it always ends like this? ”
“How do you think I feel?” muttered Alex in her ear. “I’m raising a tiny man.”
“The future isn’t female!” Sloane screamed, pulling away from Alex in a sudden burst of pain. “I can’t be expected to girlboss under these fucking conditions! And what the fuck is a She-E-O?”
“Whoa,” said Caroline, who had just reentered the room. “I have some CBD gummies too, if that would help?”
“Sure, Caroline—Sloane.” Alex’s voice was prying now, trying to open a jar that wouldn’t budge.
“Here’s what you do. Okay? You have a nice meal with us.
You cry a little. Then you get your fucking accounts in order.
You write your book and let Skit help you publish it.
You go on a book tour and you grow your brand.
You use that money to put your daughter in the best schools you can, to give her all the resources she needs.
You raise her to be strong. You catch her when she falls.
” She rested a hand on Sloane’s shoulder.
“That’s all you can do. It’s that simple. ”
“But that’s not all you do.” Sloane stared at her. “How do you do it?”
That time, when Caroline reentered the room, it was to loaded, sacrosanct silence.
Alex reached out, touching Sloane’s cheek, running a finger comfortingly along her jaw. Caroline crept around the island to rest her own cheek on Alex’s shoulder with the softness of a portrait.
“Well, as you know, I like a classic Bolognese,” Alex said, and pushed the bowl of stew toward Sloane, encouraging her to take a bite.
And suddenly, Sloane felt much better. She really, really did.