Glory disappears back into the kitchen, and I slide open the glass door to step out onto the porch. The night breeze is so cool and fresh. I take a deep breath, and I instantly feel a hundred times better. I hadn’t realized how stuffy it felt in that tiny living room.

I sit down at an old picnic table on the porch. I run my hands over the rough boards.

And suddenly I’m shaking. Terrified and small. The fear slams into me like a tidal wave. It washes over me and sweeps me out to sea. And I hear my mother’s voice.

I want everything out in the open!

I stare at her hot pink toes. Her gold strappy sandals. And I press my hands over my ears. But that doesn’t keep me from hearing Glory’s angry voice.

Then stay here with me, Nicki! That’s what I want, too!

My mother again. Will you just listen to me! she shouts. She sounds so frustrated. I jump when she bangs her hand hard on the picnic table. It rattles my teeth.

I’m trying to be honest about what I’m feeling! I can’t stay with you any more than I can go back to him! I need something more than that! I’m becoming something more than that!

I hear someone crying. And when my mother speaks again, her voice is gentler.

I really think I love you, she says. But this is my chance to be something extraordinary. And I have to take it. For me and for April.

What about me? Glory asks, and there’s so much bitterness in her words. But my mother doesn’t answer. She just bends down to pull me out from under the picnic table and scoop me up in her arms. My hands are still over my ears. What about me? Glory shouts again. Nicki! But my mother and I are already gone.

My hands are shaking. I spread them out on the rough wood of the picnic table. That fight happened here. It was never on the sea porch at all. It was Glory’s picnic table I was hiding under the whole time. I had it all confused.

Glory was in love with my mother. And maybe my mother was in love with her, too. But it didn’t matter. Because she was ending it.

She was ready to become.

The wind picks up, and the sound of wind chimes floats across the dark. I turn my head, and there they are. Hanging from the corner of the porch. Dangling silver wind chimes, strung with seashells. They tinkle and dance in the breeze. And all the hair on the back of my neck stands straight up.

Because I’ve heard that sound before. I recognize it. Just before I died.

I jump when Glory slides open the door behind me.

“Avril,” she says. “Dinner’s ready.”

ACT III: SCENE 7