“Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll all want to eat different things at different times because of our shifts and all. I got overexcited there for a minute. It’s just I never had a big family, and it feels like this is what I’m getting being here,” she says.

I laugh. “I was one of four sisters. Big family mealtimes were… not always fun.” There was always a lot of arguing about everything, from who got the fork with the bent tine to who got drinks for the table. But there were some good times too. Mostly when Mom wasn’t there. Every now and then we’d share a joke or reminisce about a funny memory—like the time Kitty decided she was going to make pottery ornaments and sell them to the fellow residents of the trailer park to earn enough money for a family vacation. Things hadn’t gone to plan because she’d only made twelve dollars.

But the fun times never lasted. We were always squabbling soon enough, always trying to avoid Mom’s accusations of misconduct or pass them on if they landed on us. It was constant conflict.

“Well, let’s make sure our mealtimes are fun,” Eden says.

“I like that idea,” I say with a nod. I like the idea of turning the negatives into positives. Of changing the future so it’s nothing like the past, of unbending myself so I can stand tall. At last.

TWENTY-NINE

Byron

I sit on the porch, fixated on the empty swing next door.

I miss her. Maybe I needed a trip back to New York sooner than I thought I did. The opening of the Club is in less than two weeks. Maybe I could squeeze in a weekend back to Manhattan, catch up with the guys, shoot some bourbon. Have fun.

A meowing from underneath the cabin catches my attention. “Cat?” I ask. It couldn’t be, could it? Just as Rosey leaves the cabins, Athena comes back? The creature probably feels sorry for my pathetic ass.

“Athena,” I call.

Out of nowhere, a white ball of fur flies onto the porch railing, nearly giving me a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ, Cat, you know how to give me a scare.”

Athena just meows, giving me a look that says, You’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a shit about you and your heart. My first thought is to text Rosey to tell her Athena is back. But I can’t. I need time and space to move on. I’m sure she does too. Starting a conversation will pull us both back in, when what we need is to relearn what it feels like to stand on our own.

A car pulls into the driveway, stealing my attention. Nancy French emerges from the driver’s seat.

“Hey,” I call, hoping my voice hides my surprise.