“Oh, shit.” Chat waved an arm as another swarm whooshed past.
“Oh, god.” Augie pushed away, her chair falling as she stood. And then—because she deserved it, she’d later tell herself—she felt a searing pain on the back of her neck.
“I knew that would happen.” She bent forward in pain as Chat rushed around the table. Before she could fight him, she felt his fingers against her neck. It was strange how quickly pain could be displaced by want.
“Hold still.”
Augie sensed his body behind her, and she wanted to close the inches between them, but she forced herself not to move.
“It’s best to get the stinger out right away. I see it, don’t move.”
Slowly, Augie felt a growing pressure, a quick pinch. The air went cold as Chat moved away, holding up the stinger.
“Got it,” he said proudly. “You okay?”
They were both behind the table now, anchoring the spread of snacks and drinks. Augie ran her hand over her neck, feeling the swollen mound. She felt pathetic, flustered, and suffused by an almost nauseating need for Chat to touch her again.
“You know, bees die as soon as they sting, so at least you won.”
Augie’s throat tightened, a reaction that did not stem from the sting itself. “I’m good.”
“You sure?” Chat flicked the stinger onto the ground. “Let me see.” He reached to the table to grab one of the waters she’d removed from the cooler. “Come here.”
The bottle was cool and crisp as Chat pressed it to her neck, and Augie was disappearing into the bliss of the cold and the closeness of Chat when, out of nowhere, he lurched away, the bottle dropping between them. She stepped forward to regain her balance, grabbing at her wet skin. She watched in confusion as Chat rushed to the other side of the table.
“Sorry.” He gathered the food. “I hope you’re okay. I have to go. She has rules about being... distracted, at the Club—when I’m with the boys.” He winced and raised a shoulder as Augie saw what he was talking about: Across the pool, Mrs. Crawley and Max opened the gate.
“Keep icing.” He backed away. “It was nice to see you, Augie. Really. I’ll see you.”
Augie couldn’t resist watching him—them. Mrs. Crawley looked even more stunning than usual. She wore a black linen romper, a large straw hat, and designer sunglasses Augie knew cost more than a full week of work. Her dark blond hair was loose and wavy, her smile paper white as Chat reached out and took Max from her. Augie watched their mouths move and noticed Chat gesture to Cooper with the Birch kids while raising the bagels—an explanation.
As the meet continued, Augie stared down at the table, the snacks, her job.You’re fine, she whispered, willing herself not to look up. She was glad when Mallory Harrison and her daughter, Gigi, suddenly appeared, asking for granola bars, forcing her to be cheerful.
Augie tried to ignore the pull of Chat and Mrs. Crawley across the pool, but she couldn’t quell her curiosity. What rules had he been talking about? Why did he seem so indebted to her? Augie couldn’t waitto talk to Leah about it. Maybe Mrs. Crawley really did keep him in a cage.
It all bothered Augie on a more personal level, too. It felt like he had chosen Mrs. Crawley over her. She knew that was ridiculous—babysitting was his job, and Augie had heard about how Cooper had gone missing at the start of summer—but it still made her feel second rate. They had finally been talking. Touching. Shouldn’t he have wanted to stay?
Stop, stop, stop, Augie scolded herself. It was for the best that he’d left. She was working, too.Don’t look up. What’s 49 times 12?
She only made it three more math problems before, finally, as she lifted a piece of ice to her swollen neck, she also lifted her eyes.
It was unfair how beautiful Mrs. Crawley looked, then and always. She was a stock standard model of beauty: tall, curves in the right places, but she also had something unique about her, an extra-perfect dimension to her eye to nose to mouth ratio—a face like a well-cut diamond. Augie felt a growing sense of envy and disdain as she watched her settle into her pool chair while Chat brought Cooper and Max to the tadpole pool. She looked mesmerizing as she rubbed sunscreen into her long arms and legs, as she shook out the boys’ towels and leaned back, raising a knee.
Augie continued watching as if hypnotized, and she had no idea how long she’d been staring—did not even register she stillwasstaring—when Mrs. Crawley suddenly sat up, lifted her sunglasses, and, as they locked eyes, Mrs. Crawley raised her arm, fluttering her fingers in a wave.
Interstitial
It was never supposed to happen again, but of course, it did. And soon, 301 Hemlock became their favorite place to meet. It was one of the smaller houses in the neighborhood, yet it was nestled back against the tree line, which gave it an air of privacy. The main bedroom only had one window, and as soon as they were inside, they didn’t have to hide. They could embrace as any couple would; they could tumble to the floor in the exact space a bed would be. Like all the houses in Briar Ridge, there was still no actual furniture—not even a stray chair or curtain—but it didn’t matter. Here, they were together. Despite the rug burns on their knees, the straining of their thighs, the desperation that fueled each of their kisses, here, it felt the most real.Ah, the Hemlock house,they’d text each other every third week, reveling in the relief. After all, they had to keep a careful rotation—could not be caught together in this space, at the same time, day after day. Theirs was a delicate lie.
5
There were three things bothering Danika that last Sunday in June. First, she did not want to attend mass (as usual). Second, she did not want to host a Fourth of July party at their cabin. And third, she did not want to talk to Chat about flirting with that Club waitress. Each sent a corkscrew of anger through her.
Church was always a pain point. The first time Danika and Bill slept together, his gold cross kept hitting her in the face, falling into her mouth—but she’d held out hope he might be one of those devout Catholics who never actually went to mass. This wasn’t the case. Still, it felt like a small price to pay for the life she now had with him.
So that Sunday, as always, Danika sat stoically in the pews of Lady of Our Lake. At least the church was beautiful. It smelled like old books, held a claustrophobic yet serene quality, and you could glimpse the lake from each window. On a good day, Danika could relax there—so long as she could tune out the words of Father Michael and the boys refrained from kicking the pews.
Truthfully, she didn’t like forcing mass on her children. Once, early on, she suggested they let them choose their own religion, but Bill had grown defensive as if they’d surely go straight to hell. Itwasn’t worth the fight. Secretly, she tried to remind Cooper that God was more synonymous with love than anything. It’d been unsettling when he started going to Sunday school and began talking to God as if he were an invisible friend. He’d go around the house saying, “Hi, God!” or “Good morning, God!” or “Did you hear that, God?” It both entertained and terrified her.
