“Paros? The Greek man from our cruise?”
“Oh,Paros,” said Charlotte. “Hm…I honestly have no idea.”
Lee heard the words even without Charlotte speaking:and furthermore.This was Charlotte’s shorthand for “this conversation is over.”
Lee’s phone chimed and she let the moment go. “Val can get me to Houston tonight,” said Lee. “And to Athens in the morning.”
“Good,” said Charlotte. “Let’s call the girls.”
When was the last time Lee had spoken to her nieces? She’d once gazed at her sister’s social media photos longingly, perhaps obsessively. But Lee’s stardom had enabled her to begrudgingly accept her spinsterhood. Unfortunately, the Covid shutdown and tedium of life with her mother had reignited an ember of regret in her gut, and she’d begun peeking at Regan’s posts of her teenaged daughters again: Flora at the Acropolis, both girls eating gyros, Isabelle wearing sunglasses and holding a frappé iced coffee. Sixteen-year-old Flora wore round glasses, parted her blond hair in the middle, and seemed willing enough to have her picture taken. Isabelle was an eighteen-year-old with one or more tattoos, her expression often challenging.
When Lee was eighteen, she’d already been taking care of her siblings and her own mother for years. Some eighteen-year-olds had kids of their own! Yet Lee had to begrudgingly admit it felt good to be needed.
As Charlotte dialed her granddaughters, Lee felt weirdly shy. “Isabelle, sweetheart,” said Charlotte. “Your Auntie Lee is going to come visit. Can you feed your sister for one more night? I’msure your mom will come home while Auntie Lee is en route, but Flora seems worried…do you want to talk to Auntie Lee? What? Oh, that’s fine, dear. I’ll tell her.”
Charlotte hung up the phone, turning to Lee with an overly cheerful smile.
“She didn’t want to talk to me?” said Lee, stung. Her nieces, especially Flora, held themselves at a distance from their aunt. They were polite but aloof at family gatherings, hiding behind books or their devices when Lee tried to engage them. Did they think she was pathetic? Lee felt wobbly. She’d secretly hoped that her nieces thought she was amazing for being a reality TV star. But maybe teenagers thought reality TV was embarrassing.
It was also possible that her nieces didn’t think about Lee at all.
“Oh, who knows,” said Charlotte. “Don’t be dramatic. Did you buy your ticket?”
“Do you think Regan’s hurt…or kidnapped or something?” said Lee, deftly turning her self-hatred into concern for her sister. In the psychiatric hospital, Lee was told that her messy childhood had left her with complex PTSD. Her therapist had said it was as if she had actual scars, and certain events could open the wounds, sending her brain back in time. Her biggest trigger, apparently, was when her younger siblings or mother needed her. Watching Charlotte put her hand to her mouth made Lee feel responsible, as she’d felt after her father’s suicide.Someone needs to handle this, whatever this is,her heart said.And that someone is going to be you.
It was the oldest pattern in her playbook—crisis hits, Lee steps up, Lee fixes things, everyone else gets to fall apart safely. She was addicted, they told her in group, to “emotional intoxication,” and had to fight her urge to visit “the emotional drugstore.” Lee couldn’t remember what the “drugstore” was in this metaphor. Was her missing sister the “drugstore”?
“You pack,” said Charlotte. “And I’ll bring you up some peanut butter crackers.”
As Lee filled her suitcase, Charlotte appeared in the doorway holding a small pharmacy bottle. “Here,” she said, extending it toward Lee with obvious reluctance.
Lee looked at the bottle—seven white pills rattled inside. “A week’s worth?”
“That should be plenty,” Charlotte said. “You’ll find your sister and be back before you know it.”
Lee pocketed the medication, feeling the familiar weight of Charlotte’s worry. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be fine.”
Charlotte nodded, unconvinced but out of options. “Promise me you won’t—”
“Of course, Mom. I promise.”
Both Lee and her mother knew that promises about depression were impossible to keep.
9
Lee
As Lee’s plane descended intoAthens International Airport, she watched shadows of sprawling islands taking shape below, framed by glimmering cobalt water. Each Greek island was distinct: one mountainous, another densely populated on one side. Lee’s gaze swept across olive groves and whitewashed buildings, temples, small harbors, and sandy beaches. The aircraft approached the mainland. Lee tried—and failed—to remember her high school lessons about Greek gods and goddesses.
Athens was a sprawling cityscape of low-rise buildings with flat roofs. Lee saw the honey-colored marble walls and columns of the Acropolis. Roads originating at the ancient city center formed a web of threads that led toward modern neighborhoods. Jagged mountain peaks surrounded the capital, a mixture of rocky and forested terrain.
How had it been ten years since Lee and her family had boarded theSplendido Marvelosocruise ship in Greece? Lee rummaged in her purse for the peanut butter crackers Charlotte had pressed into her hand at the Savannah airport the day before. Lee had refused the moist packet, but Charlotte said, “Trust me, Lee Lee—you’ll want peanut butter crackers eventually.”
As always—and infuriatingly—Charlotte was right.
“Get a ginger ale to go with,” Charlotte had advised. “Or an airplane cup of chardonnay!”
Lee ripped the plastic package open with her teeth and stared out of the window, jamming a gritty, greasy cracker in her mouth. The plane jostled, and Lee grabbed the armrest. Her mind raced back to the last time she had spoken to Regan. Lee had been embarrassed about her breakdown; she’d avoided answering calls from her siblings. When the sisters finally spoke, Lee had kept the conversation brief. Regan had mentioned a new boyfriend, a “math guy” named François.
