“Thanks, global warming. Maybe I should be teaching science and notGatsby.”
“Whatever.Gatsbyis as essential as the globe.”
“Right? All hail the green light.” Lilly slid her papers and laptop into her tote bag, and Augie felt comforted as she noticed the familiar doodles on the back of a page—the same flowers and stars she sketched when daydreaming. It was one of many traits they had in common—including how they both laughed in a downward scale; loved all the same books,Little WomenandThe Bell Jarand every Harry Potter; and said “oofda” ironically. Even if Augie looked like her dad, she was glad that deep down, she was more like her mom.
“So, your summer class is Monday, Wednesday, Friday? Is it in Pillsbury Hall now?”
“Yup. Finally finished the construction. It’s so fancy. You’ll have to come see.”
Augie nodded. She didn’t want to go back. It had been strange enough to circle her mom at the University of Minnesota in undergrad. Not that Augie had a choice, given the perk of free tuition from her mom’s job.
“I had requested Tuesday, Thursday, but alas. It’s okay.” Lilly leaned over to buckle her sandals. “I’m only teaching the first two sessions, then I’ll be all in on research. We have a good summer team, too. It’s not too bad. And I can help you with your résumé anytime.” She checked her watch. “Okay, shoot. I have to go.” She kissed Augie on the head, slung her tote over her shoulder. “You’ll be home for dinner? I’m making pesto.”
Augie said of course. Even in high school, she’d always been home for dinner. “Sounds great. Love you. Have a good class.”
Alone at the table, Augie felt even more unsettled. While her mom had been supportive through the fallout of her job, assuring Augie she’d find something else and couldn’t have controlled the agency merger (which Augie had blamed for her firing, instead of admitting the truth), Augie felt horrible. She knew her mom had once dreamed of living in New York. While she didn’t talk about it often, Augie had learned that after she’d finished graduate school at Bowdoin, she’d hoped to work at a publishing house in the city. That was the summer she got pregnant. Instead, she’d stayed in Maine, married, gotten a job at the local college, helped with the restaurant. It wasn’t until years after her dad left them that she even started applying to better teaching jobs, which landed them in Minnesota.
Augie was glad when her phone suddenly chimed, the screen filling with Leah’s name and the wordsEn route!!!
It was a bright day, and Augie soaked in the winking waves and boats bobbing in the distance as she curved along the bays to Leah’s. While she couldn’t stop thinking about Chat, she was glad to be out of the house, passing the mansions that felt like old friends: the Lincoln Log castle with its four floors and flagpole; the cottage-core palace with its wavy roof and six-car garage; and Augie’s favorite, the pale yellow mansion that looked like a hotel in New England. The homes you could only see from the lake were even more sprawling and jaw-dropping—one could watch endless videos online of Lake Minnetonka estates—but Augie enjoyed these roadside homes all the same.
It was busy for a Monday. Everyone seemed to be outside, escaping the heat and carrying colorful beach bags along sidewalks—especially as she passed Mike’s Marina and its sister restaurant, The Manor. Augie and Leah tried to avoid The Manor. Crowds filtered in and out onboats and Jet Skis all day long. People were often coming from Big Island, too, the nearby party spot where everyone anchored their boats and turned the shallow water into a drunken rave. It unsettled Augie, how frivolously these big machines were treated on the lake, how people pretended BUIs weren’t real. Everyone seemed to ignore the reality that there were over a hundred boating accidents each summer.
Augie rolled down the window, enjoying the sun on her face, and wondered what Leah would tell her to do about Chat. Augie was notoriously bad at making decisions, so afraid to make the wrong choice that she’d get lost in a web of reasoning—even when ordering from a menu. As Leah said, she was bad at following her gut. Leah was the pragmatic one.
With Micah, though, Augie hadn’t been thinking at all. Now, she hated that no one could know the truth, especially not Leah. Or Robin. They would never speak to her again. She was grateful Robin was up at the cabin today; she wouldn’t have to face her yet.
Augie whipped her car around the Greenes’ driveway (barely reacting to the white-and-black house that spread the length of a football field), parked, and rushed around back to the pool. She felt instantly better as she dropped her bag on her favorite lounger, the water shining like ice before her, its infinity edge dissolving into the lake view beyond.
“There she is, the manny magnet!” Leah emerged from the basement carrying towels.
It was cathartic to recount everything again as they settled into their usual tanning positions, heat draping across their bodies. This was at least one perk of being back: her favorite routine.
“So do you think I should ignore him?” Augie finally said, flopping her arms on the sides of the lounger. “Do you think that’s evenpossible if they’re at the Club all the time, like he said? I don’t want it to be weird. I don’t want to be a jerk, either.”
“Oh, you’re never a jerk.” Leah sat up. “Okay, don’t hate me, but I have to confess something.” She grimaced as she adjusted her swimsuit straps, exhaled, and twisted to Augie. “The Babe... Danny... asked me for your number Wednesday. He said the guy you were flirting with at the party askedhimfor it. It must have been after Chat saw you at the happy hour.”
“What?” Augie sat up fast, matching Leah.
“I didn’t know the details! I swear.” Leah raised her hands. “You know Danny’s clueless, and Chat didn’t explain. I figured he just wanted your number to keep in touch. That you were that good in bed.” Leah poked Augie’s side. “Obviously, I said he couldn’t have it.”
Augie was sweating. “Did he say anything else?”
“No, it was only a quick thing, seriously. Danny did say he gave Chatmynumber in case he wanted to ask me directly for yours, but Chat never texted, so I figured he got the hint. I really didn’t think he’d pop back up like this. I’m sorry, though. I should have told you earlier.”
Augie reclined back into the cushions. Here Leah was apologizing for a tiny white lie while Augie was hiding so much worse.
“It’s okay. It’s just odd, right? What are the chances?” She stared up at the sun. “Of course he’s working for the Crawleys, of literally everyone. Mrs. Crawley is such a nightmare.”
“Indeed.” Leah cleaned her sunglasses with her towel. “I honestly can’t imagine him with Danika every day.”
“Do you really think she treats him like a pool boy, like you said? Do you really think she thinks he’s hot? Do you think he thinksshe’shot? I mean, sheishot. I’m grossed out.” This had been bothering Augie more and more over the past two days: the fact that Mrs.Crawley was only ten years older than they were—that Micah had been almost twenty years older than Augie. She hated to imagine Mrs. Crawley and Chat flirting. She knew she was a hypocrite.
“Yes, they’re all objectively hot. But I doubt she’s after him. It’d be too Mrs. Robinson. Too on the nose. Humiliating. Nah. I’m sure she just likes having someone to boss around. I don’t think Bill gives her a whole lot of attention. My mom says she feels bad she’s so closed off. Has such a stick up her ass.”
Augie tapped her fingers over her stomach, feeling her silent laughter. She always loved hearing Leah say anything bad about members. It was always the ones who deserved it.
“I don’t know. Whatever.” Augie turned her head, the cushion warm against her cheek. She wished she had a better way to describe her true feelings: excitement, panic, shame. She hoped her feelings of attraction wouldn’t be linked with self-loathing for the rest of her life.
