“Just let them do what they need to,” Kasey said. Then she gave a pointed look at the chair on the other side of the bed. I went and sat down.
“Do you have my phone?” As Kasey dug into her bag, finding it, my mom looked at me. “Finley, don’t worry. I didn’t eat, and then all that running around. It’s nothing.”
But I’d seen the expression on her face as she answered the paramedic’s questions. She might not admit it now. But I was not the only one who had been scared.
In the end, despite her protests and an attempt to go over their heads to her doctor in Timlee, they’d kept her overnight for observation. Even though I’d sat there, listening as they discussed her condition, it was only certain words—“anemia,” “high white-blood-cell count,” “low blood pressure”—that remained in my head, like snow in a shaken globe.
Since she had to stay over, I’d figured we’d hang around and keep her company. Liz had too, judging by the haul of sandwiches,chips, and water she returned with from the hospital café. Instead, my mom had essentially kicked us out. The last time I’d looked back at her, she was on the phone, her laptop at her elbow. Take away the setting and nothing had changed. But setting, sometimes, is everything.
Now Liz and I were almost home, the food piled up on the console between us. I’d pounced on a questionable turkey sandwich as soon as I got in and already had regrets.
“Apparently, the sale ended without any further drama,” she said. “I’m trying not to think about some tourist in beachwear sprawled on Mother’s settee.”
This was a pretty specific image for not wanting to think about it.
“And Anne,” she continued, “held her ground at the fitting.”
“So she gets to keep her dresses?”
“The wedding dress,” she corrected me, checking the mirror to change lanes. “The bridesmaids from Jonathan’s side are still pushing about theirs.”
I felt a flicker of anger, hearing this. I thought of Kathy earlier, how smoothly she’d deflected Anne’s mention of the linen chest. Now I wished I’d bought it.
The Egg was in view now, the Woods mailbox before it on my right. As Liz slowed, turning in, I reached up instinctively to grab the handle over my window, holding on as we bumped over the tree roots and holes. When brush fell away, the lake appearing, I let out a breath, glad to see it.
Inside we found Lana and Kasey at the table on the porch, eating leftover pizza. Various items—the wooden box, thebooks, a quilted tablecloth—were stacked nearby, their Post-it notes still on them.
“How is she?” Kasey asked as soon as she saw us. “Any change?”
“Bossy as ever,” Liz replied. She pulled out a chair, sighing as she sat. “I really didn’t want to leave her there. No one should be all alone in the hospital.”
I blinked, hearing this. Should we have stayed?
Kasey glanced at me. “This is Cat we’re talking about,” she said, putting a slice in front of her. “We’re lucky to even know about it.”
Liz took a bite, then nodded glumly, not responding.
Lana, beside her, reached into the dollhouse, adjusting something. “Why is that?” she asked.
Kasey looked at me. “What?”
“Cat,” Lana replied. “Why doesn’t she like it here?”
“She does!” Liz said.
“Long story,” Kasey replied at the same time. A beat. She looked at me. “Maybe we shouldn’t get into this.”
“I’m fine,” I said, thinking how my mom had said they didn’t know. “I mean… she hasn’t really talked about it.”
“Oh, I understand that.” Liz sighed, taking another bite. She chewed for a moment. “You always want your kids to have the best opinions of their grandparents. Even if they weren’t the best parents to you.”
“Mom was fine,” Kasey pointed out. “Dad, however, expected total obedience from all of us, and especially Cat.”
“She was the favorite,” Liz added.
“Liz.”
“She was!” Liz looked at me. “Firstborn and just like him, really. They were two peas in a pod.”
