Marigold paused, considering this. “Yeah, I am. It’s going to be a shit show telling everyone, but it’s the right thing to do.”
“God, he’s such an idiot.”
“Jonathan? No, he isn’t. I mean, yeah, it was shitty of him to kiss Natalie. But that’s not why we called off the wedding.”
“Then why?”
Marigold’s expression turned vague and distant, as if her mind were suddenly miles away.
Olivia sat up. “Oh my god! You’re still in love with… that guy. In Canada.”
“Hugo.”
“His name isHugo?” Olivia held up her hands in response to Marigold’s glare. “Sorry, sorry. A fine name. But why did you lie about going up there? I could’ve helped you!”
“I guess I was just sick of the whole ‘oh, Marigold’s such a hot mess’ narrative. I was tired of you getting to be the grown-up while I was the irresponsible screwup.”
Olivia leaned back in her armchair. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It’s not fair, and it’s not true. I’m sorry.”
Marigold looked sheepish. “I mean, it’s alittletrue.”
“Maybe. But I think I might’ve forced you into that role. It made me feel good to think of myself as the problem solver. I liked being needed—I didn’t always want to let you grow up.” Olivia paused as a painful thought pushed its way out of her mind. “And… I think that’s why I agreed not to tell you that Mom was stopping treatment. I wanted to protect you. And I wanted to protect myself. If you didn’t know, then I could pretend that everything was fine, at least some of the time.” Olivia caught sight of Marigold’s duffel bag. Her passport was sticking out of the side pocket. “So… are you going somewhere?”
Marigold followed her gaze. “I don’t know, maybe. Hugo’s heading out on some weeklong camping trip, and I want to catch him before he goes off the grid.”
“Socallhim.”
“Ihavecalled him. Multiple times. His phone is off. And besides, you know how terrible the reception is at the yacht club.”
“Why can’t you just wait for him to get back? Do you think he’s gonna run off with a moose or something?”
“Really? That’s the best you can do? A moose joke?”
“Sorry, you’re right. Anti-Canadian bigotry is an insidious form of prejudice and deserves to be called out.”
“I can’t wait for you to meet him,” Marigold said in a voice Olivia had never heard her sister use in relation to a boy—dreamy and affectionate, almost wistful. A voice that came out when Marigold was describing a particularly beautiful designer gown, or some hidden beach she’d stumbled across on one of her adventures in Greece or Thailand.
“Oh my god,” Olivia said. “You really are in love.”
Normally, Marigold would respond to an accusation like this with glibness, a shrug or an eye roll or some question about why people were so obsessed with the idea of love. But this time, Marigold met Olivia’s eye and smiled. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
There was a knock at the door, and then Lulu slipped inside, coming over to perch on the ottoman next to Olivia’s chair. “You two okay?”
Marigold and Olivia exchanged looks, then both laughed. “Yeah, I think so,” Marigold said.
Lulu turned to Olivia. “I’m so sorry for putting you in that terrible position. I never should’ve asked you to keep my treatment plans a secret like that. Do you forgive me?”
Olivia reached out to squeeze her mom’s arm. “Yes, of course.”
Lulu placed her hand on Olivia’s and smiled, then glanced over to catch Marigold’s eye. “Love has made your sister go soft. She never would’ve let me off the hook this easily before.”
“Wait,love?” Marigold looked from Lulu to Olivia, startled. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Zack got back together, didn’t you?” Lulu asked Olivia. “I saw you holding hands when you drove up, but maybe I shouldn’t have made any assumptions.”
“Backtogether?” Marigold jumped to her feet. “What’s going on? What’d I miss? You and Zack?!”
“Why don’t you try calling Hugo one more time,” Olivia said, blushing. “Then I’ll tell you the whole story.”
