Chapter 11
Danika avoided looking at Augie as the staff brought out platter after platter at five thirty on the dot, sweet, peppery smells
filling the air. She wanted to keep the night moving.
“This is lovely, Danika,” Mallory said as she unfolded her napkin in her lap. “So . . . creative.”
Danika knew Mallory was forcing herself to be polite—being a nice little dinner guest. She didn’t trust her.
“Really lovely,” Jackie repeated, spitting a piece of ice back into her cocktail glass.
“I love hummingbirds.” Abby held the runner between her fingers and turned to Danika.
Danika smiled tightly in thanks.
They began to fill their plates, and Danika regretted having Chat feed the kids in the kitchen. She wished he and the boys
and Gigi were all there, sitting next to her, not cozying up with Augie and Teuta and Zami. She took another large sip of
wine as Bill stood up.
“Friends.” He raised his bourbon higher. “I’d like to first thank you all for coming.” He glanced around the table in a circle—from
Danika to Holly to Abby, Jackie, Joshua, Malcolm, Mallory, and Frank. “Thank you so much for joining us on this festive evening.”
Danika studied him, confused as to why he seemed nervous. He was rarely nervous.
“I’d also like to thank my wife, and Zami, for putting on such a wonderful spread and party. We’re all so glad you could make
it.”
“God Bless America!” Joshua Mike yelled.
“Nothing beats good friends and food. God Bless America, indeed. Okay, let’s eat. Amen.” Bill pivoted his glass toward Joshua
Mike and sat down.
Danika didn’t speak as she ate quickly and listened to the chatter around her, the music streaming from the speakers above.
She wished she could turn it louder and drown out everyone’s voices, but she couldn’t help but take in each surface-level
conversation—endless talk about vacations and weddings, the summer’s heat. It wasn’t until Abby cleared her throat that the
energy shifted and Danika looked up.
“So”—Abby rested her elbows on the table while clasping her hands, roping in everyone’s attention as if casting an invisible
lasso—“where was everyone last Fourth of July?”
She looked across the table through the candlelight, focusing on Danika. Danika stared back, noticing she hadn’t eaten anything
on her plate. It felt personal.
“You were in Nashville, right?” Joshua Mike turned to Jackie. “I remember a picture of you in some American flag jean shorts.
It was that memorable, trust me.” He made an “okay” sign with his hand.
“Yes, good memory, fanboy,” Jackie teased. “I’m a singer, you know. I love Nashville. Nash Vegas. I wish I could live there.”
Danika tried to picture Jackie singing in flag shorts. She’d hate it if she were any good.
“And you all?” Abby turned toward the table.
“I think we were here, right?” Bill said.
“We were in Spain,” Holly said.
“The Costa del Sol,” Frank sang, opening his arms like a conductor.
“Yes, we were here,” Danika replied. It was silent for a second. “We picked up the new boat.” She ignored Holly and Frank,
trying to sound casual, to entertain this little question-and-answer session. She turned her attention toward the lake and
everyone followed, taking in the falling, softening sun. Danika drew her eyes back to Bill across the length of the table.
“A new boat, this house, and no Fourth of July party?” Joshua Mike said. “I feel like you two need to make better use of this
place. I’ve been to a lot of cabins, and this takes the cake.”
He held his glass to Danika until she was forced to face him—to reluctantly lift her glass in return.
“I mean, you could have a band, a full catering crew, everything,” he continued.
Danika sliced a tomato, growing more irritated. “It is a good space for entertaining, but we like the escape. Being alone.”
For a second, she hoped that somehow Augie could hear, too.
“Oh, come on. You don’t find it a little selfish not to invite people up? What’s the point of having a place like this if you’re not going to show it off?”
“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Danika snapped.
Bill cleared his throat as the air above them thinned.
“Maybe you have to be a VIP,” Holly bragged. “We’ve been here before.”
“It goes back to the same old question. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?” Jackie looked proud as she cut in. “Because,
I’m an extrovert. So is Joshy. So, we’d like to have a party. But I can see that if you’re an introvert, you’d want the cabin
to yourself. Danika, you must be an introvert? What’s everyone else?”
The table went silent. Danika drained her wine, reaching for a refill. While she had been drinking white, the red was closest. Most of the time, the way people described themselves was far from the truth. Danika’s mother used to tell people she was “laid-back.” Danika poured a heavy glass.
“Oh! You know what this reminds me of, the whole like, ‘Would you rather host a party or spend the holiday alone?’ question . . .”
Jackie grabbed the table, excited, and looked to Abby. “It reminds me of that game. That ‘Would You Rather’ game, the one
we used to play in the car, you remember?”
“I remember,” Abby said coyly. “We should totally play.”
Jackie shrieked, shimmying her bony shoulders. “Oh my god, yes, we have to.”
“What’s the game?” Mallory said, uneasy.
Danika kept drinking.
“So, okay.” Jackie focused. “It’s like we take turns asking questions, and they have to be either-or questions, so like, would
you rather do this or that.” She bobbed her head. “It’s like the ‘Who Would You Rather Fuck’ game, you know, the one everyone
used to play in high school? It’s basically the same.”
“Should we go around the table?” Abby added, amused.
“Definitely.”
Danika eyed Holly, who stuck out her tongue.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably.
“Sure,” Bill finally said, rattling the last of his drink. Danika tried to catch his attention again but couldn’t. He was
staring down into the centerpieces now, a shadow of Queen Anne’s lace falling over his face.
Jackie nudged Joshua Mike. “Yay, okay. So, would you rather die tomorrow or live forever? You’re up first.”
“Live, easy. Well, as long as I have enough money to do it right. Otherwise, fuck it.”
Bill was next. He hesitated. “Sure, live forever. Why not.”
Malcolm agreed. And Mallory.
“You sorry suckers.” Frank shook his head. “You’re gonna be in for it. Definitely die. Love ya, dear.” He grabbed Holly’s
arm. “But we’ve had a good run.”
“I’ll go down with you,” Holly said. “Kill me now. But really.”
Next, it was Danika’s turn, and as she thought about the question, she imagined her boys at her funeral. This only amplified
her anger.
“Live.”
“Die,” Abby said next, not offering explanation.
“Spicy,” Jackie said. “But for me, live, live. I just hope I’d stay twenty-seven forever.”
“Me too,” Joshua Mike added.
Joshua was next to ask a question: Would you rather throw a Fourth of July party or spend the holiday alone? Everyone said
party until Danika. She told him to guess, despite Bill glowering.
It was Bill’s turn next, and he changed the tone, asking which of the two most popular restaurants on Aldon Lakes Boulevard
people would pick if they could eat at only one forever. It ignited a full debate, which Danika found pathetic. Neither restaurant
was good. Malcolm followed Bill’s lead, asking if people would rather give up alcohol or Culver’s (another ridiculous question
with a unanimous response); then Mallory asked if they’d rather visit Europe or South America; and Frank asked if they’d rather
eat a stranger’s toenail or drink their piss.
Finally, it was Danika’s turn. And as the attention landed on her, Danika knew she was officially drunk.
She blinked a few times, her mind blank.
She felt resentful then that she had to be part of this dog and pony show—to host these obnoxious people in her home.
She felt her frustration growing alongside her dizziness.
She took another sip and smacked her lips.
“Fine.” Danika was ready to challenge them, an animal instinct taking her over. “Who would you rather fuck, Abby or Jackie?”
Instantly, she felt the heat of Bill’s fury. She didn’t look at him. Jackie forced a laugh so loud it hurt Danika’s ears.
Everyone—including Jackie—knew Abby was better looking.
“You don’t have to answer.” Bill swung his head. “I think it’s almost time for s’mores.” He slid back his chair, half sitting
up.
“What? Sure you do,” Danika said. “This is just getting good. I answered all your questions.”
She crossed her arms, relaxing backward, as silence settled in. It was getting darker, and she looked down at her wrists and
arms, admiring the way her skin glowed in the candlelight. The most gorgeous woman in the room. Joshua Mike’s words came back to her.
“I’ll take Abby,” said Holly. “You’re kind of mysterious.” She twirled a finger.
Abby said thank you. She turned to Danika, waiting.
She loves me, Danika suddenly thought, her confidence peaking. She sipped her wine and spilled a little on her chin.
“I’ll take them both.” Joshua Mike draped his arms across their chairs. The three of them looked at one another, exchanging
glances, and Danika knew she had been right.
“Who would you choose?” Abby shifted forward, now turning to Bill.
Without missing a beat, Bill finally stood up.
“Okay.” He slapped his hands together. “That’s enough.”
Everyone went silent as if scolded. Then, out of nowhere, Jackie screamed.
It had happened so quietly—in comparison to the screeching of Bill’s chair, his loud clap—no one had noticed that as he stood, Bill pushed his place mat forward, which knocked over a glass vase.
This in turn angled one of the flowers directly above a candle, and seconds later, the entire strand of dried leaves weaving down the center of the table had caught fire.
It spread like gasoline as everyone scrambled backward, screaming.
Danika didn’t move—not even as the heat pressed into her face like a suffocating hand. In fact, she felt calm. How poetic, she thought as she watched the fire lick the air: The evening was already going up in flames.