I lifted my head. “Said?”
“When he came in. I was there. He said he was a friend of yours, wanted to talk to you about Clyde and Colby.”
“I’ve met him twice.” I put my head back down. “Three times, max.”
“Around here, that’s practically dating,” Amber said.
“He’s not from here, though.”
“Then maybe you should date him.” A pause. “Is he cute?”
“Emaline has Luke,” my mom reminded her.
“Yeah, but high school romances never last.” The bed wiggled as, I assumed, my mom gave her a shove. “What? Did yours?”
We were all quiet for a moment, the only sound some mobile phone commercial on the TV. Then my mom said, “Oh, before I forget. Benji called.”
I was so tired, my brain cluttered with Theo and Clyde, that it took a second for my half brother’s face to pop up and pair itself with this name. “Really.” I sat up. “What did he say?”
My mom, clearly proud of herself, picked up a pad of paper. “He wanted to know when you could play minigolf. Left a number and everything. He was very sweet. How old is he now, eight?”
“Ten,” I said, as she handed over the pad.
“Is Leah with them?”
“Not this trip.”
My mom nodded, taking another sip of her beer. Watching her, I felt a weird twinge, aware that I hadn’t yet told her about my father being separated. It wasn’t a trust thing, or that he swore me to silence: I just hadn’t mentioned it. The more time that passed, though, the bigger a deal it seemed.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I slid it out. It was a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Emaline, hey. It’s Theo.”
“Oh,” I said, turning myself slightly towards the door. “Hey.”
Despite this attempt at subterfuge, I now had Amber’s full attention. She made this clear as she asked, loudly, “Is that him? He sounds cute.”
I slid off the bed, going out into and down the hallway. “Sorry to bug you,” Theo was saying, “but I just wanted to confirm our meeting tonight, here at the house, at seven? Ivy’s got a conference call with some backers, so it’ll just be us at first.”
“Seven,” I said, sitting down on the bottom step of the stairs leading to the second floor. “Right. I’ll be there.”
“Great.” He sounded relieved, making me wonder if he’d thought I’d change my mind. I wished I’d known it was an option, but oh well. Too late now. “I really appreciate it. I’ve been trying to get her to give me some more, you know, hands-on responsibility, and this is . . . a good first step. So thanks. I, um, owe you one.”
“Sure,” I said. “It’s no—”
And that was as far as I got before the smell of whatever my dad was using on the floors upstairs suddenly hit me. It was harsh, stank of chemicals, and filled my throat immediately, spurring a hacking cough. One minute I was having a conversation, the next I was about to puke my guts out. Whoa.
“Emaline?” Theo sounded worried. “Are you . . . is everything all right?”
I heard footsteps, then looked up to see my mom in the hallway in front of me. “Fumes,” she said, gesturing for me to get up and come towards her. I did, still hacking away, and she grabbed my elbow, leading me outside to the fresh air. Theo was still talking as I gave my mom the phone, bending over to put my hands on my knees.
“Hello?” she said into it, watching me with a worried look. “No, this is her mom. She’s fine, just . . . hold on a second.”
I could only imagine what Theo was thinking in the moments that passed before I felt relatively sure I wasn’t going to pass out. Finally, though, I motioned for my mom to return the phone to me. “I’ll be there at seven,” I croaked into it. “Okay?”
“Sure, great,” he replied, hurriedly. “See you then.”
I hung up, then bent over again, taking in few more deep breaths. My pulse, which had been beating wildly at my temple, was finally slowing down. “You weren’t kidding,” I said to my mom. “That stuff is lethal.”
“Yep,” she replied, rubbing a hand over my back. It was nice and familiar, the same way freshly cut grass and chicken soup were, and I wished I could just stay there, deep in it, forever. But it was creeping close to seven, and I’d made promises. So when I could breathe on my own again, I stood up straight and we walked back inside, together.
7
WHEN I PULLED up to Sand Dollars a couple of minutes past seven, the first thing I saw was Ivy. She was on the side deck of one of the master suites, dressed in jeans and a tank top, phone clamped to her ear. Not shockingly, whatever conversation she was having appeared to be heated, involving hand flipping, facial contortions, and constant pacing. I sat and watched her go back and forth—ocean to sound view and repeat—until I started to feel hypnotized. Then I shook my head, hard, and got out of the car.
Theo was waiting for me at the door. I knew this because he opened it as soon as I knocked, instead of me having to cool my heels for however long it would have taken to get there from either upstairs or downstairs. This struck me as cute, for some reason, and made him, again, seem sort of cute as well.
“Hey,” he said. “I was watching for you.”
Like I said: cute.
“Yeah?”
Now, he flushed, as if only just realizing how eager he seemed. “The doorbell doesn’t work. Between the ocean and the size of this place people can knock forever before we hear them.”