The Cousins - Karen M. McManus Page 0,39

medical bag. Dr. Baxter didn’t typically do house calls, let alone appointments at nine o’clock at night, but he’d always made an exception for the Storys. Especially in the six months since Father had died unexpectedly of a heart attack, and Mother was suddenly hyperaware of her own heartbeat.

“It feels erratic,” she’d say, one hand clasped tightly over her chest.

But Allison knew what the problem was with her mother’s heart: it was broken.

“I keep telling her that,” came another voice. Theresa Ryan, Mother’s assistant and Matt’s mother. “Let’s bring a yoga instructor here, Mildred. It’s calming and an excellent workout. We could both use it.”

Theresa sounded more stressed than usual. She’d moved into Catmint House a few months ago at Mother’s insistence—“temporarily, just until I get on my feet,” Mildred had promised—and Allison was sure Theresa found the proximity tiring. Mildred’s constant fearfulness and her inability to make even the simplest decision wasn’t surprising at this point in the grief cycle, but it was disconcerting for everyone who was used to the Story business running like a well-oiled machine. Allison knew Adam was feeling pressured too, as their mother kept hinting that she’d like him to come home more often next semester and take an active role in managing some of their properties.

“The whole point of going away to college is to go away,” he’d complained yesterday while the four Story siblings were sprawled on oversized towels on the beach in front of Catmint House. “I don’t want to be back here every other weekend like some kind of townie.”

“Someone’s unclear on the definition of a townie,” Anders said, his voice muffled from beneath the Indiana Jones–style hat he’d placed over his face. The rest of him looked just as ready for an archaeological dig in linen pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Unlike his siblings, Anders burned to a crisp in the sun, no matter how much sunscreen he put on. But that day he looked less out of place than usual, because it was a cool sixty-nine degrees. Allison was in a sweatshirt, and kept wishing she hadn’t worn shorts.

“You could step up, you know,” Adam said peevishly. “Offer to come back occasionally. If we split things up, it might not be that bad.”

“No thanks.” Anders yawned. “Mother is finally cashing those golden-boy chips you’ve been coasting on all these years. This is all you.”

“That metaphor doesn’t even make sense,” Adam grumbled.

Now, Allison rapped lightly on the doorframe to Mother’s study before poking her head in. “Hello,” she called as three heads turned her way. “Nice to see you, Dr. Baxter.”

“You as well, Allison.”

“We’re headed out, Mother.” At her mother’s blank look, Allison added, “To Rob Valentine’s. Remember?” Archer had successfully convinced his siblings, even Anders, to show up at his friend’s party tonight.

“All four of you?” Mother asked.

“Yes. I told you that earlier,” Allison said, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. She’d mentioned it twice in fact, but lately Mother ignored anything she didn’t want to hear.

Mother’s face sagged with disappointment. “I forgot about that. I thought we could have a family game night. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

“Well…” Allison wished Adam were here. He was so much better at handling Mother’s moods. “Archer hasn’t seen Rob in a while, and we promised…”

“Oh, Mildred, let them go,” Theresa urged. “It’s Saturday night. You have them all summer.” Mother still looked doubtful, but she sighed in a resigned sort of way as Theresa gave Allison a warm smile. “I think Matt will be there, too. Tell him I miss him, and I hope he’s eating something besides ramen noodles while he has the house to himself.”

Allison’s heart skipped a beat. The coffee date Matt had mentioned last week during the party setup hadn’t happened, but she’d been hoping to see him at Rob’s. “I will,” she said, and ducked back into the hallway before Mother could protest.

* * *

—

“This summer sucks,” Anders complained as the four Story siblings crossed the street from the parking lot at Nickel Beach to Rob Valentine’s house. He zipped a thick Harvard sweatshirt all the way up to his neck and added, “It’s been freezing since we got here.”

“Coldest summer in ten years,” Adam said, in that voice he used whenever he was sharing information he thought people should already know. “It’s wreaking havoc with coastal tide patterns.”

“Fascinating,” Anders grumbled, then stopped short as they passed a distinctive, bright-green moped. “Oh hell. Fucking Matt Ryan