I stared at the retreating pair. Neither of the adult Gehrys seemed in much of a position to provide good parenting, leaving Darren to his own educational devices, and sequestering Isabelle inside. Bet the kids were really starting to miss their usual caretakers. You know, the ones not taking roofies. Or lithium, or whatever it was Mrs. Gehry was on.
Cook emerged from the kitchen and rung the bell on the porch of the main house. Breakfast.
“A bell? This is like a ranch!” Odile exclaimed. “So, fill me in, what’s been going on here?”
“All kinds of scandal,” Clarissa said. “Amy almost drowned, Demetria is going to beat up a patriarch’s wife, our room was trashed by conspiracy theorists, Dragon’s Head broke into the tomb in Connecticut, and Jenny has a crush on Harun.”
“Do not!” Jenny said.
“In other words,” said Demetria. “The usual.”
Odile laughed. “Man, I love this society.”
Darren did not reappear for breakfast, which meant more French toast for the rest of us (except for Odile, who flatly refused to eat carbs). I kept an eye out for him throughout the meal, as the others filled Odile in on the events she’d missed, but the kid never appeared. And as for the other boy of interest on the island, he’d taken a seat with Malcolm and the Myers, and I actually heard him laughing a good half a dozen times during the meal, a sound so unusual that I was surprised everyone in the room wasn’t commenting on it.
Another major topic of conversation was the Gehrys, and what could be wrong with the matriarch of the family. All sorts of theories floated around the breakfast table, but our combined lack of medical knowledge kept us from coming to any firm conclusions.[8]
“She’s definitely self-medicating, though,” Clarissa said. “Maybe she just can’t deal with the loss of status.”
“Being stuck on the island all the time with two kids?” Kevin said. “I’d want to get blitzed every once in a while as well.”
“I doubt she’s just upped the martini intake,” Demetria said. “She didn’t even realize her husband had taken her daughter.” Demetria had grown entirely more subdued since meeting Mrs. Gehry face-to-face. As her work at the Eli Women’s Center gave her a vast store of knowledge about various illegal, mood-altering substances, she had spent the meal telling us horror stories about date-rape drugs. “I just hope that whatever it is she’s using, she’s got a doctor’s note.”
In addition, Odile was fascinated by my little accident on the way over to the island, and quizzed me far more than I liked about what it “felt like” to almost drown.
“But I’m an actress! A student of human nature!” she protested when Jenny told her to cut it out.
“You’re a macabre son of a bitch,” Demetria said with a smile.
Odile’s lips scrunched into a pout. “Fine. If Amy won’t tell me, I’ll have to get someone to hold me under so I can feel it for myself.”
“Since when are you even remotely Method?” Kevin asked, but Odile changed the subject.
“And what about these nutballs on the other island?” she asked. “Did they really trash our cabin?”
“Oh, yeah,” Clarissa grumbled. “Wait until you see it. I hope you haven’t brought anything valuable.”
Odile shook her head. “That’s awful. We can’t let them get away with it.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” said Jenny.
“And what I’ve been saying is that it’s not them,” Demetria cut in. “But try convincing Clarissa of that.”
“Either way,” Clarissa said quickly, “they did trespass on our island, and they are camped out over there, spying on us. We shouldn’t put up with it.”
“Why not?” Demetria said. “We’re putting up with a lot of shit around here.” She cast an evil glance in the direction of Kadie Myer, who was carrying her plate to the kitchen. Breakfast was ending and the tables had started to clear. I was torn between arranging another rendezvous with Poe and continuing the conversation with the rest of my club. But when I checked the table where he’d been sitting, he had also disappeared.
“So, Jennifer,” said George, “on that most charitable topic of revenge…what would you suggest?”
Jenny considered it for a moment. “I’m not sure. I don’t think we have the resources for our usual pranks.”
“I think you’d be surprised what Diggers have managed to pull off on this island in the past.”
“Oh?” said Kevin. “Any stories to share?”
George shrugged and swept his last bite of French toast through the puddle of syrup on his plate. “I might have done a bit of sneaking around as a kid, watched a couple ceremonies I shouldn’t have.”
Poe’s words from before came back to me. “I think it’s pretty common for the members to put on a little skit for the benefit of whoever might be watching from the other island,” I said.
They all turned to me, surprise etched across their features.
“Since when do you know so much about what Diggers usually do on this island?” Clarissa asked.
“I did some poking around in the rec room the day you all went out on the boat with the Myers,” I lied smoothly. “There’s photo albums and everything.” At least, Darren had told us as much. He said he’d been looking through our old records.
“Amy’s right.” George to the rescue. “I saw the skits in real life. They were awesome. I bet Salt has the costumes hidden somewhere.”
“A skit?” Ben asked, his tone skeptical. “A skit is how we’re going to pay those dudes back for trashing the cabin?”
“I agree,” said Clarissa. “Won’t it just rile them up even more? Make them more eager to get over here and see what we’re up to?”
“And then we can really rumble!” said Odile. “I love it.”
Demetria rested her face in her hands and sighed in frustration, but everyone else seemed to warm to the idea. They were in the midst of discussing plotlines when Poe and Malcolm came back, dressed in beachwear and holding towels.
“Jamie!” Odile called, hopping up and rushing over to my new favorite patriarch. “I’m glad you’re here.” She was? Since when were they such good friends? “We’re going to put on a skit for the PCTs[9] on the other island. Want to play?”
Poe smiled. “Depends what you’re planning. I was always partial to the story of Perseus and Andromeda myself.”
“You would be,” Demetria grumbled, beside me.
True. It was a tad on the damsel-in-distress side. And all the good parts belonged to men.
Odile’s eyes lit up. “Are you saying we have a sea monster costume?”
“A little raggedy by now, but yes.”
Odile squealed and threw her arms around him. “Awesome! You have to help.”
I bit my lip, and looked away, so I didn’t see when the embrace ended.
“Come on,” Odile wheedled. “We had so much fun with the straggler initiation. Remember?”
Oh, right. Well, at least there was one Diggirl who wasn’t completely disgusted by Poe. (I mean two. Two.)
“Sorry. I’m going on the yacht with the Myers today,” he said. “We’re leaving right now, as a matter of fact.”
My head shot up. Right now? What about our swimming lesson? I watched, stricken, as Poe directed Odile and the other drama enthusiasts to Cavador Key’s store of costumes and props, and tried to catch his eye, to no avail. He and Malcolm finished their instructions and waved good-bye to the group, and I followed them out onto the porch.
“Hey,” I called as the boys took the stairs to the lawn. Poe turned and squinted up at me through the sunlight.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?” Poe waved Malcolm on and returned to me. I leaned over the railing and lowered my voice. “You’re leaving?”
Recognition dawned. “You have a better offer?”
Than hanging out on a boat with people like the Myers? I damn well hope so. “I thought we could…” Oh, dear, did I sound clingy, or what? “Go swimming. Again.”
8
The confessor was relieved that no one used this opportunity to point out that the prior club had tapped a future doctor, but he’d declined joining Rose & Grave once he’d gotten a good look at his ersatz fellow knights.