“Come on, both of you.”
Charlie holds the door to the screened porch open for Nan, and we follow her inside. She picks up her phone and punches in a number, then sets it to speaker as it rings.
“What is this?” I ask, glancing at Charlie, who looks as confused as I feel.
“I’m staging an intervention,” Nan says.
The ringing stops, and Heather answers. “Hi, Nan. Do you have her?”
“I do.”
“What’s going on?” I say again, heart beginning to race. Ihave a bad feeling that whatever is happening, I don’t want Charlie here for it.
What the hell?he mouths.
I shake my head. I have no idea.
“Hi, Ali,” Heather says. “I’m just going to put you on hold while I get Dad.”
“I think you should leave,” I tell Charlie quietly.
“Are you sure?”
I nod, and he gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Text me, okay?”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Nan says.
Charlie looks at me for guidance.
“He’s going home, Nan.”
“Actually,” she says, directing her attention to him, “I’d like you to stay. You might be able to help.”
“Is he there?” Heather’s back.
“Who?” our dad asks.
“Ali’s cottage friend.”
“Charlie Florek,” Charlie says, sounding like he’s in a suit and tie and not a wet bathing suit. For a second, I picture him in another life, his real life, completely in control, not a joker but a titan.
“Oh my god,” Heather says. “I have so many questions for you, but we have a hard out in ten minutes, so I’m going to cut to the chase. Alice, you need to go to the opening.”
“This is about the show?” My entire body runs cold.
“Congratulations, Alice,” our dad says. “This is a tremendous honor, a testament to your talent, success, and hard work. I’m damn proud.”
I’m aware of Charlie’s gaze on me. I hate that he’s here right now.
“He cried when I told him,” Heather adds.
I close my eyes. She wasn’t supposed to say anything. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Charlie,” my sister says, “I’m not sure how much Ali has told you about the show.”
He looks to me, not with judgment or surprise. He looks to me so I can decide how I want to handle my sister.
“He knows the basics,” I say. My rage is an icy thing, chilling my fingers and toes.
