want a hurricane? Here?”
“The Luscans only attack in clear weather,” she said.
And Stevie might be crossing back and forth, in a grid pattern, exposing himself over and over to the danger.
They ate an uncomfortable lunch, and then the kids fought on the shore. Something was rising, and it wasn’t just their impatience.
“Okay.” Dannika addressed the adults together. “Let’s just be honest. We all feel bad right now. And Bex?”
Bex looked up from the radio she was tuning from static to static.
“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Dannika said. “You must have been living with this feeling for a long time.”
“What feeling?”
“Like something is wrong,” Meg said. “Like Itime’s imprisoned and helpless, alive, he but can’t get out. He’s trapped. That’s how it feels.”
Angie crossed her arms. “I thought we weren’t talking about this.”
“We have to talk about it, Mom. Dannika’s right. Bottling it up isn’t helping.”
“It’s helped for the last twenty years.”
“Okay, well, that’s what you said when Dad filed for divorce, married his best friend, and gave you the yacht as the ‘sorry I convinced you to live a lie, I guess I couldn’t really do it after all’ for also, if I recall, twenty years.”
Angie flattened her lips into a white line.
“It doesn’t matter how long you push the feelings down. They’re going to come fizzing back up in the most dramatic, day-drinking, ‘I’m not an alcoholic because I don’t drink at night—because I pass out at 4 pm’ drama queen bull hockey. And this time, Konomelu’s not here to tell you to let it out.”
“Language,” Angie said.
“You want language?” Meg snapped her fingers. “I can tell you exactly what I think in Latin or Cantonese.”
Mother and daughter glared at each other.
Bex turned to Dannika as if no one had interrupted. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling this way for three years. So, thanks. I’m glad you believe me.”
Meg’s shoulders dropped and she opened her arms to Bex. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I believe you now. Hugs.”
Bex accepted her hug with her usual stoicism, but her blonde brows lightened.
Angie smoothed her grass skirt, which today had a hibiscus corsage, and put on a pleasant smile for Val. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. Normally, we disagree with more grace.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Val snacked on a strip of roasted seaweed. “This stuff is better than popcorn.”
They all took a seat around the table and broke into the snacks and wine. It really felt better to discuss her dread in the open, and so once they’d all had a few sips, Dannika continued her facilitator role.
“Okay, so we all feel like our warriors are trapped. What do we do?”
“There’s nothing we can do, which is why I refuse to dwell on the negative. Why upset ourselves for no reason?”
“Now, can I ask you something?” Val held out her hand. “Did you know your husband was gay when you married him?”
Angie sighed. “Yes. Of course I did.”
“You didn’t mind?”
“Well, I wanted to have children, and he was from a good family. Besides, I wasn’t in love with him, either. He was a kind man, and great with the kids. It was a different time.” Her eyes narrowed. “And then along came that Ellen and ruined everything.” Angie took a bigger gulp.
Meg rolled her eyes. “And then along came Konomelu and five more children. Hello?”
Angie nodded, unable to argue.
Meg shook her head at the other women. “I told you. Such a drama queen. But still, she’s right. Even if the warriors are in trouble, we’re stuck. We become true castaways. Nobody knows we’re here. We’re on our own.”
That was true.
But was it really?
Could she reframe this the way she reframed the laments of new clients who insisted they would never find love?
“We’re all feeling bad,” Dannika said. “Let’s honor our bad feelings.”
The women looked at her skeptically.
“Honor them?” Meg repeated. “Like, honor them how?”
“We have to feel them. Really lean into the badness. We’re all afraid of ending up isolated and alone. Let’s honor that.”
Meg set down her cup and rubbed her hands together. “Okay. Are we supposed to, like, close our eyes and hold hands?”
Angie pursed her lips.
“No, let’s just be quiet inside and listen to that bad feeling. What’s it saying?”
They all dropped quiet. The wind rustled the palms and the waves crashed on the shore. Insects buzzed and iguanas hissed.
Val crunched a seaweed chip.
Hmm. Well, maybe this had been a dud activity…
“Get out.” Meg opened her eyes. “It’s saying to get out.”
Oh. It had worked?
“Get out?” Dannika repeated.