Chapter 7

June 2023

I don't end up going to the garden party, but it's not because I chicken out.

Instead, Sophie provides the perfect excuse when she shows up at the house shortly after Aunt Tracy and I finish cleaning my mother's things out of her bedroom.

I've always thought of Sophie as the biological link between Charlotte and me. She's between us in height, weight, hair, and eye color, with dark blond hair and green eyes, and a frame that will never get as thin as she wants despite perpetual dieting. Now, at thirty-three, she's the one who looks the most like our mother, despite my momentary transformation earlier when I put on her dress.

"What's all this?" she says when she comes into the house as I'm muscling the last of the garbage bags of my mother's things down the stairs.

"Mom's stuff."

"Oh, I wanted some of that."

I feel a beat of resentment. "You could've helped sort it."

"You didn't tell me you were doing it." Sophie starts to untie the top of one of the bags, her salon-perfect hair falling in a wave that blocks her face from view. She's wearing golf-length linen shorts and a tennis club sweater tied over her shoulders.

She's right, I didn't. "Charlotte told me you weren't helping. ‘Too sad,' apparently."

Sophie looks up at me. Her eyes are tired, and her cheeks are hollowed out in a way I associate with one of her fad diets. "I never said that."

"I should've asked."

"It is sad, though."

"I know."

"And with the kids … you know how it is."

"Sure," I say, quashing a sigh. We are who we are. We're not going to change that over the course of a summer. "I made a bag for you. And maybe you could take these others to Goodwill?"

"Which one is mine?"

I point to the smallest bag. "All her Chanel stuff is in there. I think it will fit you."

She smooths down her peach-colored polo shirt. "I'm down five pounds."

"That's great."

"You look like shit."

"Gee, thanks."

"Sorry, that just popped out." She touches my shoulder. "I'm worried about you. We all are."

This brings me close to tears. This is the reason we stuff our emotions down. Because letting them up hurts. "Thank you, Soph."

"And I'm sorry about Wes."

Maybe I'll get to a time and place where his name doesn't feel like a knife, but I'm not there yet. "Yeah, me too."

"What happened? You said you were having problems at Christmas, but—"

"Turns out it was Wes who was having a problem. Of the female kind."

Her eyes grow wide. "Oh! How did you find out?"

I stare at the floor trying to erase the memory of the texts I found on his phone. "I don't think I can talk about it."

"No, of course. I understand." She squeezes my arm. "I'm here, though. If you need me."

Tears spring to my eyes. "Thank you. Ah …" I wipe them away quickly. "God, it's hot. Any idea where I can get an air conditioner?"

"The Home Depot might have some still, though I heard there was a run on them a couple of weeks ago when we had that heat wave."

"Great."

"Can you help me put this stuff in the car? My back is killing me."

I bury a smile. "Sure."

Her black SUV is parked in the driveway, and I make several trips, hauling the bags from the hallway.

"I can't believe I'm missing tonight," she says as she pushes the button to close the trunk.

"Why?"

Sophie sighs. "You didn't hear? Colin Junior has an earache, and it always turns into an infection, and my sitter canceled, so I'm stuck at home with him. God forbid Colin should miss the party and ‘babysit' his son."

"He's not still calling it that, is he?"

"Don't get me started."

"But it's a party at your family's house."

Sophie crosses her arms over her stomach. "He says there are businesspeople who're going to be there that he needs to talk to. I don't know. Ever since he found out about the money, he's been acting weird."

"I thought he had his own money?"

"You know his parents decide what to give us each year."

"I didn't know that."

Sophie clutches her car keys. "Yeah, well, they're kind of judgy, to be honest. I've been telling him for years that he should ask them to settle an amount on us so we can stop having to wonder every year what it's going to be. He's never wanted to do it. But now, we'll have our own money."

"It's your money."

She shakes her head. "No, it's ours. That's how marriage works."

Wes and I had never combined our finances. I'd always thought it was a sign of our independence, but maybe it was just another sign of our failure.

"At least you have some choices now," I say lightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just … you don't have to be so involved with his family if you don't want to."

"We live in their house every summer."

"Get your own house."

"Colin says we should put it in trust for the kids."

"Sure, some of it. But Soph, come on. Use it to buy some independence. A little happiness."

"I thought money didn't buy happiness?"

"That's what people without money say to make themselves feel better."

"When did you become such a cynic?"

That stops me. I don't believe half the things I said, and talking so much about money makes me feel icky. But that's a prejudice born out of privilege. My family's had money troubles for as long as I can remember, but we were also sitting on an asset that was worth millions. I've never experienced real hardship, and I don't want to pretend that I have. "I'm sorry."

She puts a hand on my shoulder. Her princess-cut engagement ring twinkles in the sun. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I am."

"Okay, well … Have fun tonight."

"Thanks." I wait for her to mention Fred, but she doesn't. Maybe she hasn't heard about that yet. Or maybe she's forgotten all about him and me. Just because he's taken up so much space in my life, doesn't mean he's anything other than a blip in hers.

"Come by tomorrow and see the kids?"

"I will."

"Teddy could use a tennis lesson."

"Sure."

Sophie hugs me quickly. "I'm sorry you had to do Mom's stuff without me."

"There's still her day room."

"Let me know when you're doing that one." She climbs into her car and turns it on. I step to the glass and rap on the window. She lowers it. "Don't worry—I'll clean out my room. Though I doubt I want anything in there."

"Sooner rather than later, please."

"I thought we had all summer."

I look down the length of the driveway. It's lined with large maple trees that turn a brilliant red in the fall. "I don't know how long I'm staying."

"I thought Charlotte said—"

"It's still up in the air."

"Okay. Anyway, I should get going."

"Why don't I watch the kids tonight? So you can go to the party with Colin."

Her eyes widen. "What? Are you sure?"

"I don't know any of these people anymore. It's your life, not mine."

"Thank you!"

"No problem. I'll be there in an hour?"

Sophie smiles as she puts her car in gear. "The kids will be so happy to see you."

The kids are not happy to see me. At best, they're neutral, giving me a cursory "Hi, Aunt Olivia!" before running off to their screens. It's my own fault. I only see them a couple of times a year, at family holidays, and the occasional time Sophie remembers to invite me for Sunday dinner. They live on the Upper West Side, and I live (lived?) in Tribeca, and that's enough distance for it to be like we live in two different cities.

Sophie's happy, though, and so is Colin, who I do love. I always have.

When his parents joined the SLTC twenty-five years ago, they were the first Black members. Colin's dad was a vice-president at Morgan Stanley, and his mom was a doctor, and I shit you not, but I heard more than one member refer to them as the Huxtables when they were out of earshot. I can't imagine what it was like for the Martins, enduring clench-jawed conversations where people talked about the "inner cities" and then nodded to them like they must understand exactly what they meant because what else would they be doing in the Hamptons if they weren't there to escape crime?

Back then, we rolled our eyes and grabbed Colin, because Colin was cool, Colin was fun, Colin was good at everything. He and I bonded over tennis, and he'd bite his tongue whenever one of the older members asked him what basketball team he was on.

He and Sophie bonded over … I'm not sure what, but he was into her from the beginning. After a couple of summers, it was decided. Sophie and Colin, that was their future, and if my father had any objections, I never heard them. Colin was always welcome at dinner, Colin got to squire Sophie to the end-of-year party, and then later, the prom. They went to the same college, and no one was surprised when they announced their engagement right after graduation.

I used to resent it, because my own choices were met with a lot more resistance, but I've tried to let that go.

Anyway, Colin was going places, but then Colin made a mistake. Instead of forging his own path after he finished his MBA, he got a job at Morgan Stanley, and suddenly nepotism was a problem. He got overlooked, he got passed over, and Mr. Martin couldn't do anything about it because then that would be nepotism, and Colin didn't want his help. But now, eight years later, Colin's at least two levels below where he should be, and they're still depending on his parents for luxuries like private school and summers in the Hamptons.

Rich-people problems. It's hard for me to take them seriously, except I know it bothers Sophie. And Colin is disappointed in himself. But every time I encourage him to do something about it, like go to a new company, he smiles politely and changes the subject. But tonight, he's smiling at me with genuine warmth when I arrive, his wide grin lighting up his face, his brown eyes dancing as he straightens his red-and-blue-striped tie.

"Olivia-girl, you're a lifesaver."

"Happy to help."

"You know I never would've heard the end of it from Sophie if I'd gone without her."

"She does have a point."

"One she's made to me over and over."

This is their banter. He complains to me about her, she complains to me about him. Who knows what they do when I'm not around?

"Where are your parents? And Lucy?" Lucy is his younger sister.

"My parents aren't coming down till later in the summer. And Lucy's here, but she's having a drink with a friend and meeting us at the party."

"Who's the business contact you need to talk to?"

He slips on his dark navy jacket. It fits him beautifully, his body still taut like an athlete's. "No one."

"Is it Fred?"

His eyes are guilty. "I'm sorry, Olivia."

"What are you sorry about? We all owe a lot to Fred, from what I've been hearing."

"Is that why you wanted to babysit the kids?"

"I've told you and told you," Sophie says, coming into the room in a pink column dress with white piping. "It's not babysitting when it's your family."

"I think that only applies to husbands," I say. "Is that one of Mom's?"

She twirls for me. "You like?"

"It looks great. Maybe a bit much for a garden party, but …"

"That's what I told her," Colin says. "But does she listen?"

Sophie gives him a kiss. I look away, tears in my eyes.

I had this. I had this, and now it's gone. "You guys are going to be late."

"She's right, Colin. Olivia, the kids' food is in the fridge, and I left instructions for bedtime."

"I throw them chips and let them stay up as late as they want, right?"

"She's kidding, Soph."

Sophie puts on a bright, brave smile. "I know that. Love you. Boys! Be good for Aunt Olivia!"

"Okay!"

"And Junior's medication is here." She points to the cupboard next to the fridge. "If he's rubbing on his ear a lot, text me."

"Go—have fun."

They rush out in a trail of perfume and cologne, and I wander into the kitchen, happy that I'll be able to eat dinner at a more reasonable hour. Dinner at eight sounds luxurious when you have cocktails and nibbles at five, but when you're a teacher and you have to be in bed at nine because otherwise you're exhausted the next day, it's much less appealing.

Wes had trouble understanding that, and eventually he stopped asking me to join him for his after-work things. Another sign I should've paid attention to. Back then, I was just grateful for the extra sleep.

I pull some things together for dinner and make organic mac and cheese for the kids, with peas in it for their vegetables, and they deign to spend ten minutes with me while they wolf it down before they disappear back into the den. Sophie texts me once to ask after them, and I assure her that everything's okay. Then I sink into the massive couch in the great room, with the intention of catching up on something on TV, but instead I fall asleep, all the bad nights and too much emotion catching up with me.

When I wake up, Colin Junior and Teddy are jumping on the couch. Jumping on me.

"Mommy and Daddy are home!" Colin Junior says.

"And we're not in bed!" Teddy adds, wagging his finger at me like his grandmother.

I sit up, feeling panicked. I'm the worst aunt in the world. Anything could've happened to the kids while I was sleeping. But instead, they're fine, good enough to mock me for dereliction of duty.

"Okay, let's scatter. Come on!"

They giggle and I grab each of them by one hand, rushing them out of the living room and down a long hall to their wing of the house. They share a bedroom, done up in nautical blue and white, and they whip off their clothes and jump into their pajamas, leaving me to pick up after them. I shove their clothes into the hamper as they clamber into bed. I can hear the front door opening, the laughter of more than just Sophie and William. Guests. Great.

"We didn't brush our teeth," Teddy says. At six, he's the responsible one, if a pack of wolves can have a responsible one.

"You're right. Bathroom, quick."

They jump up and make fast work of their teeth, then I shoo them back into bed and tuck each of them in quickly.

"You're going to be in trou … ble," Colin Junior says.

"Not if we don't tell."

"Secrets are bad. Mommy said."

"Not this kind of secret. Don't worry."

Colin Junior nods, but Teddy doesn't look so sure. "I'll think about it," he says, then pulls his duvet up to his chin.

"Okay, Teddy." I kiss each of them on the forehead. "I love you."

"Love you!" they say back, and my throat is tight. I do love these little monsters, and I should spend more time with them.

I close the door to their bedroom and stop. There are at least three voices in the living room. Sophie and Colin and, I assume, Lucy.

"Olivia?" Sophie says, her voice trailing down the hall. "Where are you?"

"I'm here," I say stepping out of the shadow near the boys' door. "Just checking on them."

Sophie's cheeks are pink from drinking. "How were they?"

"If I say angels, you'll know I'm lying."

"Were they very terrible?"

I hug her impulsively, maybe to distract her. "They were fine. Almost like they weren't even here."

"Oh, good."

"How was the party?"

"It was fun. Everyone was there. And everyone wanted to know where you were."

"Did they?"

"Ash did for sure."

I'd forgotten she was going. "Ah."

"You two ever make up after your fight?"

"Nope."

"That's too bad. You were always so close. I was jealous, honestly."

"I remember you always wanted to play with us."

"And you never let me."

"Sorry about that."

"Bygones, right?" Sophie tugs at my arm. "Come into the living room for a drink, and we'll tell you all about it."

"Just for a minute. I need to get home." She turns and I follow her, realizing that I didn't ask her who's here.

But I should've known, because life doesn't let you escape your fate by playing a trick on it like skipping a garden party.

Nope.

Because when I walk into the living room, Fred is standing by the window next to Lucy.

My eyes move slowly toward his as my heart slams in my chest. When our eyes meet, he starts in surprise, like I'm not who he was expecting, then buries it quickly.

"Olivia," Sophie says. "You remember Fred Webb?"

He arches an eyebrow at me, part greeting and part challenge, and it's all I can do to keep my voice calm as I say, "I do."