Page 27 of Play Nice

“Whatever. Bye.”

“Love you with a cherry on top! Byyyeeeee!” I turn around in the driveway so I don’t have to back out. I peek in the rearview to make sure that the front door is shut, that I didn’t imagine closing it behind me. There are smart locks now, something else I can add to the list, after an exterminator and an electrician. Or maybe I’ll just get a boyfriend.

I don’t think I’m ready to give up on the house. Not yet.

—

When I arrive back at Dad’s almost an hour later, it’s with coffee and pastries from the local place superior to Starbucks, which sufficiently distracts my family from noticing the book-shaped thing tucked into my hoodie.

I didn’t tell Daphne about the book.

I smuggle it upstairs, hide it inside my suitcase, take a long shower, put my sneakers in the washing machine, and join everyone after all the Danish are gone.

“Returning your credit card with witnesses so no one can accuse me of stealing it,” I tell Dad, slipping his blue Chase card back into his wallet.

“You probably have the number memorized,” Daphne says.

“If I did, I’d be in head-to-toe McQueen right now,” I say. “Which reminds me. I have a brand campaign scheduled to shoot in Chelsea on Tuesday.”

“I can drop you,” Daphne says. “I should get back to the restaurant.”

“Tom and I are headed out first thing tomorrow,” Leda says.

“No!” Amy says. “Stay forever. All of you.”

“You’re all still coming for Memorial Day?” Dad asks. “I’m getting ribs and hot dogs from the butcher.”

“Maybe. I’ll see,” Daphne says, such a tease. She’s too busy for us. She doesn’t get paid time off. She knows she’s not coming, but she gives us maybes to see if we beg. A test. If we fail, she won’t make a scene or outwardly mope. She hoards her hurt feelings like a squirrel with acorns. Feeds off them on cold nights, uses them as fuel. But she never makes them our problem. That’s Leda’s thing.

“We’ll be there,” Tommy says, smiling, poppyseeds wedged between his teeth.

“It’s nice out,” Leda says. “Let’s go for a walk.”

I doubt she ate a pastry, but merely being in their presence is enough to set her mind to burning calories.

We all suit up for a neighborhood stroll. My sneakers are still in the wash, so I borrow a pair from Amy. They’re neon green and leopard print, and it pains me to wear them in public, but whatever. We fall into our typical formations. Leda speeds ahead with Tommy jogging at her heels, then it’s me and Daphne, trailed by Dad and Amy.

But then Daphne stops to tie her shoe, Dad and Amy catch up, and there’s a switch. It’s me and Dad now pulling up the middle, Daphne and Amy hanging back, admiring a neighbor’s daffodils. It becomes immediately apparent that this was a deliberate swap.

“I know you went to Edgewood,” he says. “You could have told me.”

“Why would I tell you when my sisters would inevitably do it for me?”

“I’m not upset that you went. I’m upset that you felt like you couldn’t be open about it with me. We don’t keep things from each other in this family. We talk.”

“Not everything needs to be a conversation, Dad.”

“You don’t think the house warrants discussion?”

“Obviously not, since no one thought to mention it was still in the family. Not Helen. Not you. You kept that from us.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t know. How could I? I hadn’t spoken to Alexandra in years. She cut off all contact after—”

“I’m perfectly aware of the situation, thank you. Whatever. If you don’t want me over there—”

“I didn’t say that. Your sisters told me that you want to put some work into it. That’s fine. I think it’ll be good for you.”

“Really?” I was ready for an argument. I might have even been hoping for one.