“Oh, I love me some Savannah.” Joshua Mike chewed yet another hunk of brie. “Love those open container laws. And all the ghosts.” He wiggled his fingers at Jackie, who hooked her arm in his. She was a foot shorter than Joshua Mike—so was Abby. They were both so petite, they seemed like two halves of a whole. Again, Danika imagined them all having sex.
“Have you played Oyster Reef?” Joshua Mike asked.
The conversation turned to golf from there, and as Danika moved away, she realized she was getting drunk. She had hardly eaten, and the alcohol was swimming through her veins.
Danika went inside and headed to the kitchen. She walked slowlyas if approaching a crime scene—but felt absurd. This washerhouse. Augie did not deserve her nerves. She fixed her hair and walked faster.
As Danika stepped into the kitchen, she held her chin high, prepared to meet them all, but there was only Zami. She paused, deflated, and went to the sink.
“Everything good?” Zami asked as he whisked a bowl.
“Yup, yes.” Danika chugged a glass of water. She stared at her reflection in the windows above the sink. Catching herself in a mirror always sobered her. It was unnerving, like watching yourself cry.
“I’m going to check the place settings and then we can get this show on the road.” Her mouth was still thick and dry as she turned to face Zami. “And are you all set? Are you and Teuta, and... Augie? All set?”
“Yes, yes, you betcha. No worries, Mrs. Crawley. You enjoy yourself, yeah? We have it all under control. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Danika assured him she was fine, then started down the cedar hall toward the screened-in porch, which connected to the far side of the deck, one landing up from the firepit. As she approached, she suddenly sensed another presence.
Augie was focused on lighting the candles, the ashy smell of a fresh-struck match hanging in the air. She moved carefully from one golden candle to the next, her hand gliding between them, forehead scrunched in concentration. Even in the dim light, her eyes shone icy blue. Danika coughed once.
“Oh, sorry.” Augie jumped back, flicking out the match. They each stared at the table as if afraid to look at each other. One candle remained unlit.
“Why are you sorry?” Danika straightened her back and steppedcloser. She crossed her arms as she looked at the centerpieces. She hoped the intensity of her pulse did not show. She gestured to the single candle.
“You can finish.”
Augie inched forward. Danika watched her try to light the match, fail, try again. It took four swipes for the flame to burst alive.
As Augie lit the wick, Danika continued studying the table, walking along the opposite edge. The tension between them was palpable, a heavy, disorienting fog, but Danika pretended not to notice. She leaned down and touched the flowers, adjusted a vase. She stood back to admire the table as a whole. There were delicate vases filled with wildflowers, all of varying heights and colors; there was the linen runner she’d gotten in Malta years ago, a swirl of hummingbirds; throughout, rich dried green vines and golden candles anchoring everything. It was more whimsical than Danika’s typical style, but it fit the setting, the occasion. It looked effortless. No one would know she had visited two florists and three home decor stores to find the right pieces.
“It looks really nice.” Augie stood back against the screened windows, the gray sky framing her.
“It does,” Danika said.
“And we, um, we put the extra setting there, right? That’s where you wanted it?”
Danika looked to where they had squished an extra plate and chair for the surprise Abby. Someone had even made her a place setting card, which did not exactly match the gold pen and exquisite cursive of Danika’s other placards, but it was close. Danika picked it up.
“I tried to make it the same, but we didn’t have anything gold, so.” Augie gave a small shrug. Danika noticed her shimmering, perfect skin.
“We don’t need it.” She crushed the paper in her hand. “Abby will be reminded that she wasn’t invited.” Danika closed her fist. “She’ll know that she wasn’t—isn’t—welcome here.”
Augie looked as if she’d been slapped.
“I’ll just check with...” She trailed off. “Dinner should be ready soon.”
She slid past Danika, angling her body as far away as possible before rushing down the hall, the screen door bouncing closed behind her.
Danika exhaled. She felt both satisfied and uneasy as she leaned on the back of a chair. How could that girl be so simultaneously aggressive and timid? She was the one who had snuck up to the cabin. Why was she acting like some kicked dog? Danika felt even more frustrated, and she opened her hand, the crumpled paper now soft as a petal in her palm. She only hoped she’d sent a strong enough message to keep her away.
Danika held still for one more beat, taking in the solitude, and then walked around the table to double-check the place settings. She knew her guests might be surprised by the assigned seats, but she also knew people liked to be told what to do. It was especially beneficial this evening; Danika could ensure she’d be at the opposite end of the table from Joshua Mike. She needed all the control she could muster.
10
Mrs. Crawley is officially a bitch, Augie texted Leah from the bathroom. She sat on the closed toilet seat, knees bouncing. Even the bathroom was a work of art, with its dark floral wallpaper and glossy ceiling.Who spends this much effort on a bathroom?she thought, resentful. Augie stared at her phone, wishing Leah would respond. She felt a little bad; Leah had warned her the night might not be as easy as she hoped—she said Mallory Harrison didn’t even want to go—but Augie had been out to prove she could face Chat and Mrs. Crawley head-on.
Of course, Leah had been right. This was worse than she had expected. While Augie had known Mrs. Crawley wouldn’t be thrilled to see her, she hadn’t anticipated this degree of hostility. Every time Mrs. Crawley looked at her, it was as if she were throwing silent daggers.
