“And Wilson,” my mother continued, “Ellen tells me that you were the one who cut the grass a couple weeks ago. I really must ask you to take some money.”

“I was glad to do it. I couldn’t accept payment. It needs another cut. I can come down when I’m back.” Wilson smiled. Rae’s dad looked pleased. Marie was smiling. Ellen and Beatrice clearly thought all this was wonderful. Even my mother was smiling.

“Actually, the grass is my job. Mine and Thomas’s. We don’t want you to cut it again.”

“Libby!” I had embarrassed my mother. Marie shot me a look as if to say Please don’t do this.

Wilson looked straight back at me. “I wouldn’t want to upset you or Thomas. I could bring down our lawn mower if you want to borrow it.”

Fuck him. He was saying all the right things. My mother’s face softened. I hated him.

“We’ve already borrowed one. From someone else.”

Everyone was silent, my lie hanging there.

I looked over at Marie. She was wearing a vintage black lace dress and her Doc Martens with bare legs. She was tiny but strong-looking, her hair on the side that was long hanging across her eye. She already looked like she belonged somewhere else.

“Well, I guess I’d better say goodbye, then,” she said, and went to hug Beatrice first.

“Well, okay then, Marie,” I interrupted. “I have to go rearrange my new room. Hope you enjoy your new life in the city.” I didn’t even look at her when I said it.

I slammed the back door hard and ran to our bedroom. I looked out the window. Rae’s dad was shutting the trunk, and my mother was hugging Marie, something that we didn’t do very often. But it only made me angrier. Why wasn’t she taking Marie to the city? Why was it okay for strangers to take her? How did she get like this—or was she always this way? I couldn’t remember. I decided she probably was. Even before Dad left.

I had ruined the goodbye. I’d wanted to punish both of them. I heard the slam of car doors and the acceleration away as the cars climbed our road. I reorganized our shelves and closet. Marie had left the Marksman hidden in a B. Altman box. She’d taken everything else, so I wondered why she’d left that. Mom went out, and Thomas, Ellen, Beatrice, and I ate SpaghettiOs in the kitchen. Then I lay on my trundle. I’d told Ellen she could have Marie’s single bed.