“Having a nice time?” I whirled around, my heart hammering, and saw Milly sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, a glass of red wine in her hand. I hadn’t known that Sloane’s parents had come back but realized they had, as usual, come back from someplace fancy—Milly was wearing a floor-length beaded dress that pooled at her bare feet.
“Oh,” I said. I looked down at the bottle of wine I was holding in my hand and realized how this must look. It was one thing for Sloane to tell me her parents were fine with us drinking; it was quite another for her mom to catch me taking her chardonnay. “Yeah. Um . . .”
“Close the door, would you, dear?” Milly asked, holding her hand up to block the weak refrigerator light. I closed it, and the kitchen fell into darkness again.
“Um,” I said, trying to decide what I should do. Hide the wine? Put it back? Pretend like I was cool with this too? “Thanks so much for letting me stay over.”
“Of course, Amanda,” she said, giving me a smile as she took a sip. “It’s our pleasure.”
I just kept the smile on my face, not sure if I should correct an adult, Sloane’s mother, about this. It seemed less embarrassing for both of us if I just let it slide. But there must have been something in my expression, even in the darkness, that gave it away, because Milly lowered her glass and squinted at me. “Not Amanda,” she said, shaking her head. “My goodness, where is my mind?”
“It’s Emily,” I said, with a laugh I hoped didn’t sound too forced.
“Yes, of course,” Milly said, with a laugh of her own. “I’d forget my own head if it wasn’t attached to my neck.” I nodded at that, and was about to say something else on some safe topic, like the weather, when Milly went on, thoughtfully, “No, Amanda was Sloane’s best friend in Palm Beach.”
She sipped her wine again, like nothing was wrong, and I tried not to let it show just how shocked I was. Sloane had never mentioned an Amanda.
“And then it was . . . What was that girl’s name in South Carolina?” Milly asked, drumming her nails on the table, now seeming to be talking more to herself than to me. “When we were with my sister Laney . . .” I realized, all at once, that this was definitely not the first drink she’d had tonight. There was a looseness in her voice that I wasn’t used to hearing, and it made me feel nervous. Between that and the fact that I was holding a bottle of wine in front of an adult who wasn’t lecturing me, it suddenly felt like there was nobody in charge. “Charlotte!” Milly said triumphantly, taking a sip of her wine.
I gave her a weak laugh in return, though my head was spinning. And it hit me that I probably couldn’t ask Sloane, demand she tell me about other friends she had. Or if I did, she would probably just tell me about them, girls I’d never thought to inquire after since I’d never until this moment imagined they existed. I knew, rationally, that this was no big deal and I was getting bothered by nothing. But still.
“Em!” I turned in the direction of Sloane’s voice, and realized she was probably wondering what had happened to me. “Come on! This next episode is called ‘The Diamond and the Dachshund,’ so you know it’s going to be amazing.”
“I should . . . ,” I said, taking a step toward the door.
“Of course,” Milly said, giving me a vague smile. She wasn’t demanding her wine back, so I just took it with me. “So nice to see you again, dear.”
I made myself smile back at her. “You too.” I couldn’t have said why, but I had the feeling that she had already forgotten my name. I walked straight back into the library, not stopping to look around this time, and took my spot next to Sloane on the couch.
“Finally,” she said, as she took the wine from me and poured us each a glass. “I was getting worried you’d gotten lost or something.”
I was on the verge of telling Sloane her parents were here, and her mother was in the kitchen, when I realized I had no idea how long they’d been back for. But the fact was, they hadn’t come in to say hi to their daughter. And suddenly, I missed my mother, her constant popping in whenever I had a sleepover, her presence that I knew I could depend on, no matter what. “Just moving slowly,” I said, as I grabbed the remote and pointed it at the TV, making myself smile at her. “I ate too much pasta. Ready?”
Sloane clapped her hands together and grinned at me. “Always.”
14
STEAL SOMETHING
I stood against the wall of what had been Sloane’s living room, clutching a glass of sparkling water I’d gotten from a passing waiter. I was gulping it, hoping that the cold would wake me up, so I could try and understand what was happening. Because it felt a little like I’d just been dropped into a nightmare, or one of my parents’ experimental plays, where everything is designed to make you feel off-balance.
I was standing in Sloane’s living room, and it was still Sloane’s living room. Everything was still there. The furniture, the rugs, the oil paintings with their little lights, the books on the shelves bound in leather. None of it made any sense to me. Why had the Williamses left all their stuff behind? For just a moment, I wondered if it meant they were coming back. But even I couldn’t seem to get myself to believe it, and another explanation had started to circle around in my mind—maybe they had left it behind because it wasn’t theirs to take.
The house was packed, mostly people who seemed around my parents’ age, in tuxedos and gowns, with waiters passing around trays. Frank had waved across the room to me when I’d come in, but he was clearly being monopolized by his parents’ friends. I was okay with that, because I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him, or what it was going to be like between us. Frank’s parents, standing in the center of the room, seemed to be pulling off the illusion that things were still fine with them, unless you chose to notice how far apart they were standing, and how they never seemed to talk to each other.
I looked around at the familiar room, one I thought I’d never see again—and certainly not looking just like it always had. I crunched down on an ice cube and it made my back teeth ache. Now that I was in her house, I felt a sudden, surprise rush of missing Sloane intensely.
But I’d been missing her all along. Hadn’t I?
As I shook my glass, just to hear the ice cubes clink, I realized that I hadn’t, not recently. That her list had become less about Sloane, and more about me. And Frank and Dawn and Collins, too. I wasn’t sure what that meant. I wasn’t sure what I wanted it to mean. I sipped at my water, wondering how much longer I had to stay. I was feeling jittery and out of sorts, like even being in Sloane’s house was making me think about things I hadn’t had to face in a while. And all I really wanted was to go home and not leave until things made sense again.
I saw Collins across the room, and waved to him. He met my eye, but then looked away, and I could see him sigh before he turned and headed toward me, expertly navigating his way through the crowd, his hands stuffed in his tuxedo pockets. He had dressed to the nines for the occasion, wearing a maroon bow tie and matching cummerbund, along with a pocket square.
“You’re looking very dapper tonight,” I told him as soon as he was close to me.
“Thanks,” he said a little shortly. He looked at me, then flicked his eyes away. “Nice dress.” The way he said it, I could tell it wasn’t exactly a compliment. Even though it was overheated in the house, far too many people and not enough air, I suddenly felt chilled. And I remembered the look Collins had given me as I’d left Frank’s tent.
As though sensing this thought, Frank looked over at me and Collins, grimacing and shooting us a Sorry about thisexpression.
“Look,” I said, turning to Collins. I took a breath and decided to jump right in and not bother with the segue. “About the other morning, what you saw. Me in Frank’s tent? Nothing happened. I just didn’t bring a pillow.”