so the parents could have sex and the kids could get high. Or vice versa.
Sasha entered the master bedroom, where the weirdness continued. The bed was messy and unmade, the hamper overflowed with dirty clothes, and the air smelled stale. She turned up her nose, thinking the Garveys needed better cleaning people. The trophy stood on the nearer bureau, so she crossed the bedroom, took it, and left. She was heading down the hallway when she heard shouting coming from downstairs.
Sasha stopped at the top of the stairs. The sound traveled up the stairwell. Curious, she listened in.
“Mark, hang up the phone. Hang up!”
“Fran, please, this is an interview about the 5K—”
“You will not avoid me for one more minute! How dare you let her get this way! She’s lost weight! She’s a wreck! She needs help, can’t you see that?”
“Aunt Fran, please, he’s trying his best.”
Sasha recognized Allie’s voice. So it was a juicy fight between Dr. Garvey, Fran Somebody, and Allie. Sasha didn’t know where Mrs. Garvey was. Sasha eavesdropped, wanting to hear what happened.
Fran was saying, “Allie, your father’s in denial, you said it yourself! He’s pretending your mother is fine when she obviously isn’t! She needs psychiatric help, this instant! Probably inpatient! She’s in the car, crying her eyes out!”
“Fran, you have a lot of nerve interfering—”
“Dad, Aunt Fran—”
“I have a lot of nerve, Mark? You have a lot of nerve! You’ve let her languish!”
“I have not! I got her to a therapist! She’s on meds! She’s going to talk therapy! What more do you want?”
“I want it to work! She’s a zombie! She looks like a ghost! Her clothes are swimming on her! Are you blind?”
“Aunt Fran, Dad, please don’t fight—”
Upstairs, Sasha started to feel bad. A normal fight was one thing, but this was worse. It sounded like Allie’s mother was a mess and Allie was freaking out. Sasha’s mother wasn’t around much, but at least she wasn’t a basket case. Meanwhile Sasha couldn’t go downstairs in the middle of a family fight. She stayed still, unsure of what to do next.
“Fran, I’ve done everything for her! Everything!”
“You’ve done everything but help her! Can’t you tell she’s sinking? She’s circling the drain!”
“She’s grieving! Everybody grieves differently!”
“She’s going under, Mark! What were you thinking today, forcing her to go to a fun run on Jill’s anniversary? Are you insane? What mother would want to do that?”
“What mother wouldn’t? It’s a celebration of our daughter’s life!”
“Mark, you’re failing her!”
“I’m failing her?” Dr. Garvey exploded. “Fran, who are you to tell me I’m failing her? Do you know what I do around here? I’m the husband and the wife! I’m the father and the mother! I go to work every day, I make sure there’s food in the house! I get the laundry and dry cleaning done! I make sure the lawn gets mowed, the bills get paid! I do it all! I’ve been doing it all for a year! All she does is sleep, eat, and cry!”
“Mark, her daughter died!”
“So did mine!” Dr. Garvey shouted, his voice breaking.
“Dad, Aunt Fran, stop!” Allie burst into tears, running up the stairs.
Oh, shit. Sasha realized Allie was coming. Sasha edged backward, clutching the trophy. Her instinct was to run back into the master, but that would be weirder. There was no time anyway. Sasha froze.
Allie reached the top of the stairs and saw Sasha. Allie gasped, startled. Her eyes went wide. Tears streaked her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” she blurted out, shocked.
“I had to get this.” Sasha hoisted the trophy. “Sorry—”
Allie turned away, fled to her bedroom, and slammed the door closed.
Sasha flew down the stairs, through the front door, and out of Allie’s house. She didn’t stop running until she got home.
She threw the trophy in the garbage.
CHAPTER 22
Julian Browne
There were six tennis courts at Brandywine Hunt, maintained in excellent condition, covered every winter and the nets put away so the tape didn’t get dingy. They were Har-Tru, so their surface was soft green stone, which complemented the green coating on the cyclone fence. The courts were set off on the far side of the pool and snack bar, with the clubhouse. Julian and David hadn’t had to wait for a court because it was hot and nearly everybody was at the pool. They’d been playing for less than an hour, but Julian was getting frustrated. He couldn’t concentrate. He gritted his teeth, watching the ball sail out-of-bounds.
“Sayonara!” David called from his side of the court.