“About four years,” Bo said, “give or take. The family’s come and visited me in DC, just how I like it. Going home feels harder, somehow, than them coming here. It feels like I’m on their turf. When I go to Charleston, that’s when the wheels fall off. I always come back needing twice as much therapy per month.” Bo had skipped college, and his mother, seemingly the only one who cared or remembered, liked to remind him of it often.

“Then why are you going back?”

“My twin sister is having an engagement party. Attendance is mandatory, according to my mother.” Bo stood; so did I. I had an office to shut, a walk of shame to complete. “Think about it, Daisy. Take a break from DC. Some good might come of Miles kicking you out of here. Even if you leave just for a night.”

Bo’s advice was tempting—to sail away for a minute, to move out of range from the faces who knew us, from the cameras that found us, even in graveyards. The alternative was to stay here, in DC, inventing busywork, crossing off days on a calendar.

My phone rang. It was Cricket. Her computer mouse had stopped working, and she really couldn’t use the track pad, and could I come by during my lunch break to help?

“Lucky for you, Cricket,” I said. “I actually have the afternoon free.”

Sixteen

The door to my mother’s apartment was unlocked, so I let myself in after dumping my work bag in my apartment on my way up. No need to carry it around everywhere anymore.

“I like your sweater,” I said, catching a glimpse of Cricket puttering in the kitchen. Her top looked familiar, a formfitting crew neck with a swirl of sapphire sequins on the front. She had worn it to one of Gregory’s holiday parties a few years ago. “It’s very sparkly.”

“I had a lunch,” she said as I sank into her sofa. “Wine?”

“It’s three o’clock.”

“And?” She walked out of the kitchen holding the bottle, giving it a little shake side to side. “I feel like celebrating.”

“Okay. Fuck it.” I cursed so rarely, this really shocked her.

She said Daisy! in a way that made me seem like a teenager in need of stronger boundaries. And I said Oh, Mom, in a way that made it seem like I was bored of her overreactions. Then we both chuckled and she poured me a glass of wine. If she recognized my laughter as forced, she didn’t show it.

“Who did you lunch with?” I asked once she situated herself comfortably next to me.