Page 2 of The Getaway

So We’re really doing this.

Marley could easily picture Suzy kicked back in one of her giant SUV’s leather seats, her hair perfectly coiffed into a dark “haphazard” bun that had actually taken her thirty minutes to perfect. Precise tendrils would be framing her face, and she probably had her fake lashes applied just yesterday to guarantee they’d last the full week. Suzy always relied on big lashes to bring out her sparkling brown eyes, which were almost always accented by even sparklier diamonds in her ears. Marley sighed and texted back.

Looks that way.

UGH. Sean is in a Mood. And not the Good Kind.

Lol everything ok?

The last thing Marley needed was for Suzy and Sean to be at each other’s throats this weekend. When they were fighting, Suzy got drunk and loud, and Sean got whiny about everything. What with Lily and Lincoln’s divorce and Juliet and Josh always traveling, they hadn’t all been together since Juliet’s son’s baby-naming nine months ago, and that had been a fraught event in and of itself. Marley needed some semblance of normalcy this week.

IDK I’m Going to try to get it out of him on the ride.

Good call.

For half a second, Marley considered telling Suzy what had happened between her and Marshall, but then the three dots were scrolling again, and she realized it wasn’t a conversation to be had over text.

But we’re not going to Actually be nice to this bitch right?

Marley sighed. She was not of the opinion that it was Hazel’s fault that Lincoln cheated on Lily, impregnated her, and dumped his wife for her. But she was also not not of that opinion. Plus it did kill her that Hazel had gotten pregnant so quickly, even accidentally, when Marley and Marshall had been trying to adopt for so long—that Hazel had given Marshall’s parents, the evil Fosters of the Greenwich, Connecticut, Fosters, their first grandchild. Marley unscrewed the cap on her ice-cold bottle of zero-sugar ginger ale and took a swig. She seemed to be constantly nauseous and knew it was because she hadn’t been eating right lately. Actually, she hadn’t been eating much at all. Not since three weeks and two days ago, when the last adoption fell through. But she couldn’t think about that now. If she thought about it, she was going to start crying again, and she was so sick of crying. In fact, maybe she was sick of everything. Hazel and Lincoln included.

Of the couples that vacationed together at the Villa every year—Marley and Marshall, Suzy and Sean, and Juliet and Josh—Marley and Marshall had spent the most time with Hazel. And while she did dress like a cross between a lingerie model and a background dancer, and, in Marley’s opinion, wore far too much lip liner, she wasn’t totally awful. She was attentive, always asking how Marley was feeling and making sure the people around her stayed hydrated and fed. She remembered everything anyone ever told her and asked after whatever it was the next time she saw them. She had a fantastic laugh. And she seemed to have a calming effect on Lincoln that was not unwelcome. Also, Marley had always been the youngest of the group—Marshall was three years older than her and Lincoln three years older than him—and now Hazel, at thirty, was the baby. She could take all the ribbing for it from here on out.

You don’t have to be nice to her but don’t be mean. its her house now.

Suzy texted back a vomiting emoji. Then:

Ok but seriously you are aware theres an actual hurricane coming right? Have you seen whats going on in the Carolinas?

Of course Marley had seen what was going on in the Carolinas. The whole freaking world had seen what was going on. It was utter devastation. People in boats floating through their former neighborhoods. Dogs left behind on roofs. Grandmas getting airlifted to safety. And of course the looting. So much looting. But Lincoln swore all the National Weather Service models had Hurricane Sarah turning toward land and dying over Virginia. By the time it got up to the tristate, it would be nothing but a big rainstorm, and it would be mostly inland. Looking out the window at the clear blue sky now, Marley found it hard to imagine people were literally struggling against the elements just a few hundred miles away.

The models could be wrong. As they often were. But was anyone going to tell Lincoln Foster that? Not a chance. He had a weeklong vacation to host. A huge party to throw tonight. Lincoln Foster did not bow to Mother Nature. Mother Nature would bow to him. She sighed and texted back.

Lincoln says it’ll be safer on the Island.

Rainn says there’s a 35 percent chance the hamptons get a direct hit.

Who the Eff is Rainn?

Rainn storms! That influencer i follow. He’s always right!

A link followed, and against her better judgment, Marley clicked it. It took her to a video of a rotund man with light-brown skin and three nose rings, wearing a yellow rain slicker and hat and standing in front of an elaborate radar screen.

“Mainstream media is lying to you! They don’t want all them rich folks to stay home and not bring their green to the island this weekend. They’re more worried about heirloom-tomato sales than they are about your safety! Listen to me, people! Stay. Home!”

His eyes went wide and wild as he did a motion that was not unlike jazz hands right at the camera. After a pause he added, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe.”

And then his handle flashed across the screen with a lightning-and-thunder effect.

Marley had to take a minute to compose herself before responding. She wrote back:

You need to get off the internet

There was a longish pause. Then Suzy finally texted:

Ok then. I Guess I’ll see you when I see you.

And even though Marley knew she’d pissed off her friend, she blithely texted back: