The Cousins - Karen M. McManus Page 0,89

now. And it doesn’t matter. It’s been creeping up on me ever since I got to the island what my relationship with Thomas really is: something that should’ve ended a few months after it began in eighth grade, when he started treating me like an afterthought. But it didn’t end, because there was something almost comfortable about that. I was used to it.

The chauffeur eases the Bentley to a stop in front of Catmint House. “Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up,” I say into the phone. “Enjoy the rest of your summer.” I disconnect, and Milly starts clapping softly.

“Can we just take a minute to appreciate how much better you’ve gotten at telling people off over the phone?” she says with a grin.

I execute an awkward seat bow. “Thank you.”

“Allow me to get your door, Miss Story,” the chauffeur says. He does, and doesn’t bat an eye when Milly climbs out the other door, unassisted.

“Let’s see what Mildred wants, huh?” she says, linking her arm with mine as we make our way to the wide slate steps. Before we get to the top, the door swings open to reveal Theresa.

“Hello, Aubrey. And…Milly.” Her placid smile falters as she takes in my cousin. “Mrs. Story is expecting you, Aubrey. Please come in.” She steps aside, then right back in front of us as Milly moves to cross the threshold with me. “Milly, this invitation was for Aubrey only.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Milly says sweetly. “We thought there must have been a mistake.”

“There wasn’t,” Theresa says. “You can wait in the car. It won’t take long.”

Well, that doesn’t sound promising.

Milly gives her an ingratiating smile. “Are you watching the game? Maybe I could join you until Aubrey’s done.” Theresa looks blank, and Milly adds, “The double-header? Yankees versus Red Sox? First one’s already started.”

“I don’t watch baseball,” Theresa says irritably. “I really do need to ask you to leave. Come along, Aubrey.”

I give Milly a helpless look as Theresa practically drags me inside, shutting the door in my cousin’s face. “Mrs. Story is on the balcony,” Theresa says, leading me to the same place where we had brunch. It’s like déjà vu all over again: Gran seated beneath a gauzy umbrella, dressed to the nines and sipping tea.

“Hello, Aubrey,” she says. “Please sit down.”

“I’ll be right inside, Mildred,” Theresa says, and closes the sliding glass door behind me.

I sit in the chair farthest from Gran, heart pounding. I might’ve handled Thomas with an ease that impressed even me in the car, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for this. There’s a large tray in the center of the table that holds a teapot, a steaming carafe of what looks like coffee, and porcelain bowls of milk and sugar. No food, though. This is clearly not a brunch situation.

Gran gestures toward the table. “Help yourself to tea. Or coffee, if you prefer.”

“Coffee,” I mumble. I don’t know how to work the carafe, though—it’s one of those awkward tops that you have to twist a bunch of different ways before it opens—and Gran lets me struggle with it. When I finally start to pour, the coffee gushes out so quickly that my cup immediately overflows into my saucer. We both pretend not to notice.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you here,” Gran says, taking a delicate sip of tea. Her hat today is smaller than usual, a jaunty sort of fedora pulled low over one eye, in a brown color that complements her plaid suit. Her gloves are a light tan, instead of the usual white. She looks like she’s taking a break from a World War II spy mission.

“Yeah,” I say, taking a big gulp of black coffee so I have room for milk. And then I nearly choke, because it’s scalding. My tongue burns and my eyes water, but I manage not to spit anything out.

“I’m speaking to you alone of your cousins. You seem like a sensible girl. Milly strikes me as unstable, and as for the other one—” Her expression darkens. “JT is clearly just as much of a viper as his father ever was.”

Surprise mingles with my nerves. “You don’t believe him and Uncle Anders, then?”

“I don’t believe any of you.” Gran takes another sip of tea, then sets her cup carefully on its saucer. She folds her hands under her chin, gazing at me so intently that I have to drop my eyes. “I should have sent you away as soon as you

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