“On my way.” I shoved my phone into my pocket and ignored Ollie’s raised eyebrows as I headed for the stairs.
When I made it to the Sky Lounge, Nina took one look at my face and stopped me. “You good?”
“Family drama,” I said. And before she could ask more, I stepped over to the bar and made some margaritas for the guests, who were topless again and snort-laughing over their college days.
Nina followed me behind the bar. “What’s going on?”
I picked up a glass and avoided looking at her. “Mia and Kitty are at the airport right now waiting for me to pick them up.”
Nina nearly dropped her radio. “Likeright now, right now?”
“Yup.” I kept my hands busy polishing some glasses. “Apparently, they’re here for the entire summer, but I don’t remember making plans with Beth. I don’t know how, but I really fucked up.”
“How are you supposed to get them? Doesn’t Beth know you’re supposed to go to Europe next month?”
“Belva is on her way to the airport now. As for my trip...” I shrugged. “I haven’t told Beth about it. I’ll cancel it. I can’t just send them back.”
Nina pried the cloth from my hands. “How can I help? Do you need a Xanax? A good travel agent? How about a houseplant?”
“A houseplant?”
“They reduce stress. I read it inPsychology Today.”
“You readPsychology Today?”
“I’ll have you know I’m an avid reader of many things,” Nina said. “Just tell me how I can help.”
I shook my head, unsure anyone could help. “You can help by taking your break.”
“If you’re deflecting, Jo, I—”
“Break,” I repeated, snatching the cloth back. I steered Nina by the shoulders to the stairs, sending her belowdeck so I could be alone. As alone as one could be while hovering over topless drunken guests.
One of the guests called me over to see if they could change the flavor of the boob cake, and I stole from the room, checking my phone on my way down to the galley. I had two texts from Mia: one informing me that Belva’s car smelled like cigarettes, and another saying they’d arrived at the condo safe and sound. Another from my credit card company notifying me of a thirty-dollar purchase from China Sky. And then I noticed a fourth text, this one from my sister, and my worry flamed into guilt.
are you at work
My thumbs hovered, hesitant, but then a slew of texts appeared on the screen, one after the other.
you were supposed to pick them up
are they with you
is everything okay
Was everything okay? I had no idea. Something had gotten lost in translation, and now I’d earned the title of worst sister ever. How had I missed something as big as the girls coming down for the entire summer? How had I dropped the ball when my sister needed me? She’d only just started going back to work, was only now talking to her friends and going to church again.Everyone thinks I’m coping, but I’m not, she’d told me after finishing her first week back at the hospital where she worked as a nurse.I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Joey.I’m only moving because I have to. I want it to get better, but it never does.It scared me, my big sister feeling so out of control. I couldn’t give her anything more to worry about.
Everything’s fine, I replied.Belva is getting them from the airport.
ill call you after my shift 7pm, Beth’s reply read. I imagined her walking the halls of the hospital, her sneakers squeaking across the floor. I mentally apologized to her patients, whose IVs she was likely placing with a little too much force.
I slipped my phone into my pocket, bracing for Ollie’s inevitable freak-out when I told him he’d have to remake his cake, and returned to work, hoping I was prepared for whatever disaster might happen next.
—
The condo had been part of my life for as long as I could remember. Right on the beach, the Palm Beach White House Condominium Complex comprised two large white buildings austerely facing each other over the expanse of a blacktop parking lot. Beth and Ihad spent the summers of our childhood here, staying with our grandmother—my father’s mother—until Dad died. Beth and I inherited her unit when she passed away seven years ago, and my sister insisted I take the place, seeing as she and Mark had their life with the kids in North Carolina. At first, I hadn’t wanted to leave them, not when I owed them so much. But Beth had not so gently reminded me that I needed to get a life, and so I moved to Florida the very next month: without a job, without friends (other than the condo residents I’d known my whole life), without a plan. Somehow, the condo, with its saltwater pool, shuffleboard court, and bare-bones gym full of ancient equipment, was home.
When I eased open the door to my unit after work, I was struck by how quickly it had devolved from almost-thirty chic to something like a teenage girl’s bedroom. The living room was a mess. Two pairs of tennis shoes were piled in a heap beside the shoe rack. Half-empty containers of Chinese food sat on the side table. And in the center of the living room, two exploding suitcases flopped open onto the white tile. I fought my yacht stewardess urge to tidy everything immediately and turned to the couch in front of the TV, where Mia and Kitty lounged with their legs outstretched.
