Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Do about which particular fuckwad of my life?”
“Uh. All of them? Any of them?”
Greta didn’t have an answer.
“Are you at least gonna get off that damn island where your family runs your whole life? You’ve heard about her family, right?” Ramona said this last to Carys, who nodded.
“I want to.”
“Well then,” Ramona said, as if simple desire was all it took to remake a life.
As if to underscore the point, Greta’s phone rang.
“Hey, Maggie,” Greta said. “What’s up?”
Ramona made a face to Carys that said Did I tell you or what? and she and Carys walked a few steps ahead of Greta.
“What’s up is I need you to weigh in on this whole Greg situation, because if I have to talk about it for one more single minute with Sadie, I’m going to perish.”
“What’s the Greg situation?”
“Omigod, Addie didn’t tell you? So Tillie’s bringing Benjamin to Chanukah, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Benjamin was Tillie’s husband.
“And Naveen is coming to hang out with me.”
Naveen was Maggie’s best friend/maybe-boyfriend. She’d never admit he was, but they seemed more intimate than friends sometimes.
“So Sadie has decided that she and Addie should bring dates.”
She said dates like it wasn’t a real thing. Which, on Owl Island, it kind of wasn’t.
“O-kaaay?”
“Obviously Addie isn’t gonna.”
“Obviously.”
“So now Sadie is saying she’s bringing this Greg person, and I guess he works in the post office, but…”
She didn’t have to finish. It was clear what had happened. Sadie, jealous that anyone might have anything she didn’t, had roped some random gentile she probably met while picking up a package into being her plus-one to Chanukah dinner. She would fawn over him performatively, Mom and Dad would ask him personal questions because they’d think he really was her date, and he’d become deeply uncomfortable, which would make Sadie double down. Hell, she might even date him for a few weeks after the dinner just to make a point. She’d done it before. Not that she’d think of it that way.
“Yikes,” Greta said. “That’s shitty and I feel for this Greg, whoever he is, but you know Sadie. If she’s made up her mind… And let me repeat for the one hundred thousandth time: I will not be there, so I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Damn,” Maggie said. “Not fair. I wanna be not here.”
“So leave,” Greta said. It felt easy and reckless to say the words. It felt amazing.
“I can’t.”
And for the first time with one of her sisters, Greta didn’t say I know when she knew what they meant. Instead, she said what Ramona—and now Carys—would say to her.
“Why can’t you leave?”
“Because it’s Chanukah. Mom and Sadie would roast me alive.”
“I left. I’m not roasted alive.”
“That you know of,” Maggie muttered.
Greta’s stomach clenched. “What are they saying?” she heard herself ask. All the ease and recklessness of the moment before rushed out of her like a punctured balloon.
“You know,” Maggie hedged.
“Tell me.”
“How sad it is that we won’t be a family. How Mom hates to think of you all by yourself for Chanukah. What did they do to make you not want to celebrate with us. You know.”
None of this was surprising to Greta. But it hurt anyway. How did it hurt anyway?
She walked in Carys and Ramona’s wake, watching the sun filtering through the trees to spangle on the light wood boards. She smelled the lichen and the dusty moss. She listened to the knock of woodpeckers and the splash of some submarine battle playing out in the bayou to her left.
It hurt because she felt guilty. And she felt guilty because she didn’t want to hurt anyone.
Cool, so not wanting to hurt other people means choosing to feel hurt yourself. Great calculus, Greta. Guess Muriel was right about you not accidentally ending up an accountant.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Greta said, her voice rising.
“I know, bro,” Maggie said.
Carys looked back at her with a raised eyebrow and a concerned expression. Greta sighed and smiled.
“So if you want to leave, you should leave,” Greta said.
“Yeah,” Maggie said. “I know.” For a second, Greta thought she was going to say something serious, but she just concluded, “I’ve got a million Amtrak points.”
“Good,” Greta said. “Listen, I gotta go. I’m seeing alligators.”
“Like…up close?”
“Very fucking close. Love you, bye.”
“Send pictures!” Maggie was saying as Greta hung up.
She rejoined Ramona and Carys.
“Which of the brood was that?” Ramona asked.
“Maggie.”
“Aw, Maggie’s my favorite one. She’s had, like, less time to be in your family so she’s slightly more functional.”
“Okay, enough about my family. Can we just take some pictures of terrifying dino monsters now?”
“Yes. Yes, we can,” Ramona said.
Carys took Greta’s hand again and brought it to her lips, a silent question: Are you okay? Greta squeezed her hand in reassurance. When Carys slid a hand to her nape and rubbed gently, Greta hmmed and pressed closer.