Asher is standing at the edge of the living room, where the little hallway branches off toward his room on one side and his parents’ on the other. “I told her to hang out at your house and take a breather.” He shoves his hands into his shorts pockets. “She doesn’t need to see this.”
I wonder if it’s him he’s worried about looking bad, or me. Either way, I’m thankful I don’t have to see Sylvie right now, while I’m the reason her house smells likethis.Asher walks toward his room and I follow.
He doesn’t look at me, and I don’t say anything. When his bedroom door opens, I’m hit by a second, stronger wave of stench.Crap crap crap.“Fix it,” is all Asher says as he closes the door behind him, entombing us in the smell.
“This isn’t what I thought it would smell like,” I mutter as I get down on my hands and knees in front of his bed.
“What did youthinkit would smell like?”
I grope a hand around under his bed. “Like the seafood section at the supermarket?” It’s not actually a question, it’s the truth. I thought it would smell like the little space around the lobster tank. But the truer answer is that Ididn’tthink.
Asher shakes his head. My hand fumbles on something wet and soft, and I almost hurl right on the side of his bed, but I make myself hold on to it and pull it out. The newspaper is soaked through, disintegrating in my hands. All around it, the carpet is wet.
“Sidney…” Asher’s voice is a perfect balance of disgust,disappointment, and sadness. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so shamed by the use of my name. “What were you thinking?”
His eyes go from the mushy pile in my hands to his bed. Being sure to avoid me, he pushes his mattress up against the wall, exposing the metal frame underneath. There’s a dark wet spot, and just as Asher steps into the rectangular frame, a muffled voice comes from the house. “Hello?”
“Back here.” The words slip past my lips without thinking.
The look of horror on Asher’s face registers before my mistake does. And before either of us can move, the bedroom door is opening, and Nadine is stepping in.
She gags as she takes a step toward me, sounding like she’s about to dry heave. Asher is crouched down in his bed frame, one hand holding his mattress up to the wall. The soggy pile of papers is in my hands, no doubt dripping onto my shoes. I’ll have to burn them. At this rate, we might have to burn the whole house down. Nadine jabs her chin at the soggy pile in my hands. “What is that?”
I have never wanted to drop something so badly before, but I hold on, trying to remain calm. I look to Asher, and swallow about nineteen times before the words finally come. “Fish,” is all I say.
Nadine’s bracelets jangle as her hands settle on her hips. “Whatis it doing in here?” She looks to the dark spot on the floor. “Besides soaking into the carpet pad and floor.” She shakes her head.
Behind me there’s a soft crash and then Asher is standing at my side. “It was an accident. A joke.” His voice is light, the friendliest I’ve heard it all day. He nudges his elbow gently into my side and says softly, “Take it into the kitchen, Sid.” Then his voice is strong and confident when he says, “We’re cleaning it up right now. We’ll take care of it.”
I’m still standing at the edge of the kitchen, listening for her response, when she walks past me and out the door without a word.
Asher
Dinner should be at our house tonight, but for obvious reasons it’s been moved next door. It’s late for dinner, almost eight o’clock, because we had to get fans stuck in all of the windows, and Sidney drove to four different places trying to find a carpet-cleaning machine to rent. I disassembled my bed for her and moved my mattress into the hallway, but we didn’t speak. The parents have hardly said a word to us, either, but disappointment practically radiates off of them.
“I’ll do the dishes tonight,” Sidney offers, and I almost feel bad for how shitty she must feel right now. She’s not the kind of person who takes parental disappointment well. My guess is that Sidney is making herself feel ten times worse than her parents ever could.
“Obviously,” her mom says, just as my mom says, “Asher will help.” We didn’t go into details about what happened—maybe the parents don’t want details about who to be mad at when it’s easier to just be mad at us equally. They’re not completely wrong.
Sidney’s poking at a piece of garlic bread when there’s a knock on the door so loud the metal frame of the screen door vibrates against it.
Tom is up out of his chair, a step away from the door, when it swings open. Nadine steps into the kitchen, one of her usual brightly colored dress-shirt things hanging off of her. It’s like a giant rainbow fabric-bag. Her blond hair is twisted up into a swirl on the top of her head, and her red lipstick is uneven at the edges, bleeding into the pale white of her skin. I will never understand how someone can live on a lake and be so pale. Or cranky. Isn’t lake life supposed to be for easygoing people who love margaritas and cold beer and putting their toes in the sand? Or has country music been lying my whole life?
“Nad—” Tom’s confused voice is cut off.
Nadine slams a piece of paper onto the table between the dads. “I want you all out in forty-eight hours.”
“Nadine—”
“It’s something every year. A mysterious stain.” I think of the Kool-Aid shower, wonder if there are stains, and if she knows it somehow. “A broken piece of furniture.” The deck chair we broke two summers ago. The one Nadine replaced withthe unicorn.“I find pots in the wrong houses, and cabinets stocked with the wrong things.”
“We share,” Mom says, her voice soft and shocked.
“Because you are too comfortable.” Nadine’s face is cold. “This isn’t your house. It’s mine.”
Kris looks like she might throw up. I know what she’s thinking: for two months out of the summer, these areourhouses. We don’t think about the other people who stay here after us. These houses wait for us all year. They’reours.Our houses onourlake.
“Nadine, we’ve always paid for any issues,” Dad says. That makes my face heat red. I didn’t realize they were paying for issues that Sidney and I likely caused. Why haven’t they said anything to us? Have they been skimming the money out of my college fund or something?
