“I don’t think anyone’s gonna care too much about this,” Mom chimes in.
Hazel abandons her plate on the table, breaking free from the group and moving to the bench on the edge of the deck.
I make a move to follow her, but Jane cuts in front of me. “I don’t get it, Logan,” she says, not even trying to disguise her irritation. “You won’t accept your inheritance, but you’ll take lottery money? If your luck ran out and you needed help, you could’ve come to us.”
I glare at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know that you almost risked our inheritances because you didn’t want yours,” Jane nearly shouts. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her get this worked up. “We can’t all be as lucky as you, Logan. Our lives don’t just fall into place like yours does.”
Jane’s gone a step too far, and she knows it. Eva knows it. Mom knows it.
“When you see me, all you can think of is luck,” I shoot back. “You assume everything’s so easy, like it’s just happening to me, but maybe you need to take a better look.”
“Okay, everyone take a deep breath,” Mom says, trying to diffuse the situation. “Everything happens for a reason. Just think of what you can learn from this.”
“Yeah, like don’t ever rob a bank,” Joe says as he crushes his second whoopie pie. Tina nudges him in the side.
Mom holds up her hands like she has the answers. “If we can just stay positive, this will get better. Freaking out isn’t going to do anything. Let’s just—”
“Actually, Mom, this really sucks,” I snap.
Everyone goes quiet.
I have the floor. I might as well take it. “Hazel and I are allowed to feel mad about this. Freaking out might not fix this, but happy thoughts sure as shit won’t either,” I say. I’m frustrated, and I sound it. I haven’t taken this tone with Mom in decades.
If Mom’s stunned by my outburst, she doesn’t show it. “Stop worrying. This is hardly news. It’ll blow over in a few days. You’ll get through this,” she says evenly.
She’s not hearing me. No one is.
That’s not true. Not no one. Hazel hears me.
And the worst part about all of this is what Hazel must be going through. She’s got her legs tucked up into her chest, her chin restingon her knees. She’s staring out at the sparkling bay. In a place that feels so free and open and wide, she’s made herself small.
The happiness that lit up Hazel’s face earlier is long gone. I’d do anything to put it back there.
I walk over to her and reach for her hand. “Shirley MacLaine,” I say.
She looks up at me, a little dazed, but doesn’t hesitate to place her colder-than-usual hand in mine.
And then we get the hell out of there.
Chapter 20
HAZEL
We coast down the highway in silence. I keep checking my phone, waiting for a call or text message from Dad about the news.
Or Jerry. He’s the one who’s chronically online.
There’s a chance they’ll never know. But the waiting to find out is the worst part.
I stare at the ocean through the windshield. It helps dull some of what I’m feeling. I imagine jumping into it and swimming away from all my problems. A muscle in my arm twitches, longing for the burn of a butterfly stroke.
“What’s with your safe word?” I finally ask Logan, curious about the name that actually did help us escape one of my problems.
Logan loosens his grip on the steering wheel. “Shirley MacLaine got lucky when she was inThe Pajama Gameon Broadway. Her life changed when she filled in for Carol Haney, the star of the musical, after she sprained her ankle,” he explains. “MacLaine hadn’t rehearsed but pulled off the show. And who was in the audience? A Hollywood producer who was impressed enough with her performance to offer her a contract. She was in the right place at the right time.”
“So we say her name to get out of being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I say.
