“I think she might be freaked out,” Olivia continued. “And when she’s freaked out, she runs. Always has. That’s why I need to find her—I need to talk some sense into her before she does something she’ll regret forever. I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. You have toswearnot to tell anyone, especially not Jonathan. I know that’s breaking bro code, but…”
“I won’t,” Zack said gently. “But is this really your responsibility?”
Marigold’salwaysbeen my responsibility, Olivia wanted to say. It was hard for people to understand, given the privilege Olivia and Marigold had now. They had no idea what their lives were like before Lulu married Bill, when an eight-year-old Olivia had taken care of a five-year-old Marigold because their mom worked nights. And then even after that—even when Olivia was no longer in charge of making dinner or scaring off the mice that pranced around their apartment every evening—she’d still beenthe responsible one, the straight-A student, the rule follower who covered for Marigold when she failed a test, scratched the car, or got busted for using a fake ID.
“What I’m saying is, can you really stop her?” Zack continued.
“No, I mean, I’m not going to drag her to the altar. But she can’t justvanishlike this. It’ll kill our parents.” Olivia knew how much this wedding meant to Lulu. Not just the party, but the peace she got from knowing that Marigold was settled, safe. It’d be so different if Olivia were the one getting married. If her own love life hadn’t been such a disaster, if her younger sister hadn’t gotten engaged first, all the pieces would’ve fallen into place so perfectly. This weekend would’ve given Lulu the kind of peace she was looking for, that she deserved.
The tears returned, and Olivia searched her pockets in vain for a tissue. Zack reached into his shirt pocket and produced a white handkerchief with blue stitching. “Here, take this.”
Olivia examined it. “It has your initials on it,” she said between sniffles. “I don’t want to get snot all over it.”
“Isn’t that part of the appeal?”
She half laughed, half sobbed, then blew her nose. “Who carries monogrammed handkerchiefs?”
“It’s goofy, I know. But my grandma makes them for me, and I feel guilty when I let them pile up at home. And they’re better for the environment than tissues.”
“Too bad the whale didn’t know that. He would’ve dived down and fetched the key for us.”
“I know, right?” Zack leaned over the side of the boat and cleared his throat. “PLEASE HELP US, MR. WHALE. I’M A VEGETARIAN AND I VOTE FOR THE GREEN PARTY.”He sat up and turned back to Olivia. “That should do it. Just give him a second.”
Despite herself, Olivia smiled. “Don’t hold your breath. He’s probably pissed you threw away your vote.” She pulled her phone out and sighed. “No service. You?”
“I left my phone at the hotel.”
“Of course you did.” She opened the storage container under the back seats, pulled out an oar, perched on the stern, and began to paddle—a few strokes on the port side, a few on the starboard, repeat.
“Need any help?” Zack asked.
“Nope.”
“So where are we heading?”
“Land.”
Zack bit his lip. “Okay, I really don’t want to accidentally mansplain here… but aren’t we going the wrong way?”
“We’re too far from the mainland, and the current is pushing us away from Sandpiper Island. There’s a smaller island over there. There are a few cottages on it—we’ll find someone with a landline.”
“Got it,” Zack said, sounding impressed. “I didn’t realize I was out here with Captain Nemo.”
For a second, Olivia allowed herself to imagine what it would’ve been like to have Andrew on this expedition with her. Would he have been similarly impressed by her nautical skills? Would it have made him look at Olivia in a new light? Then again, none of this would’ve happened had Andrew been with her—he would’ve never dropped the key in the water. Or if he had, he would’ve dived in after it. According to Instagram, he’d spent two weeks last year at an intensive free-diving workshop in Morocco.
They fell silent for a few minutes as Olivia found her paddling rhythm. The current was more or less pushing them in the right direction, so she kept the paddle mostly on the port side. The air grew misty as the sky darkened, and even the effort of rowing wasn’t enough to stave off the chill. In the distance, thunder rumbled ominously.
“I’m sorry,” Zack said again, even more contrite than before. “I fully acknowledge that this is mostly my fault.”
“?‘Mostly’?”
“Eighty percent, at least.”
“Any reasonable person would know that dangling a key over the water could lead to said key being lost. The outcome was foreseeable.”
“Great, I forgot that Captain Nemo also went to law school.”
“You didn’t forget. You bring up my ‘soul-sucking’ job every five minutes.”
