The Identicals(49)

7. Dress yourself from present inventory. Pick six outfits (one MUST be the Roxie) and cycle through. Write down the exact items you take. One pair of shoes only. This store is a direct reflection of the Eleanor Roxie-Frost brand. Don’t mess this up.



Harper gets an immediate case of the hot pricklies. She knows the Nantucket boutique carries brands other than Eleanor Roxie-Frost, but these other brands will still be too fussy and feminine for Harper, and she is going to have to wear the blasted Roxie at least one day a week.

She has a succession of nauseating memories: her confirmation at Church of the Advent, her ninth-grade dance, her prom. Her adolescence was pockmarked with events for which she had to dress up. Tabitha had loved it. Tabitha had worn dresses and skirts voluntarily.

Harper will worry about the store later. For now she will focus on the daughter.

She raps lightly on Ainsley’s door. There is no answer. She knocks again a little louder, which elicits a groan. Harper cracks open the door.

“Time to get up,” Harper says.

“I’m sick,” Ainsley says. “I have a migraine.”

Harper nearly laughs. It’s startling the way ailments, either real or perceived, pass down through the generations. For Eleanor, every headache was a “migraine” and required a cool, dark bedroom for three hours, followed by a double espresso and a double gin martini.

“Get up,” Harper says.

“Seriously, I get them,” Ainsley says. “I can’t move. My vision gets all splotchy, and I feel nauseated. I’m staying home today.”

“You’re going to school today,” Harper says. She snaps her fingers twice, and Fish leaps onto the bed and starts barking. Ainsley groans again and extends a foot to the floor.

While Ainsley is getting showered, Harper makes her famous scrambled eggs—famous to her and Billy, anyway. Harper uses double yolks, half-and-half, and a handful of shredded Cheddar. She cooks the eggs slowly over low heat until they are deep golden and creamy.

Harper makes a plate for Ainsley with a piece of lightly buttered rye toast, but Ainsley pushes the dish away. “I don’t eat breakfast.”

“You do today,” Harper says.

“I thought you were cool,” Ainsley says. Her voice has a ragged, snotty edge, and Harper wants to growl the way Fish does whenever Harper pulls out the grooming brush.

“I am cool,” Harper says. “But if you think I’m going to let you do whatever you want this summer, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Mom let me do pretty much anything,” Ainsley says.

“Well, no offense, but that strategy doesn’t seem to be working,” Harper says. “I found the vodka in your bedroom yesterday, and I’m sure if I poke around, I’ll find weed.”

Ainsley sneers. “I’ll save you the trouble. It’s in my top drawer.”

Harper stares. “Eat the eggs.”

Reluctantly, Ainsley takes a bite. She nods. “They’re good. What do they have, like, ten thousand calories per bite?”

“Pretty much,” Harper says, and the teenager grants her a smile.



Rocky start, Harper thinks, but according to Billy’s watch, she and Ainsley and Fish climb into the Bronco on time. Harper delivers Ainsley to the front door of the school before the bell.

“Have a good day,” Harper says.

“Fat chance,” Ainsley says.

“Do you want me to come pick you up?” Harper asks. “You’re done at two thirty?”

“I get a ride home with my friend Emma most days,” Ainsley says. “I’ll text you if I need a ride.” She climbs out of the car, tosses her hair, and strolls toward the front door. She is so pretty and so confident. How is this possible at sixteen? She is wearing skinny jeans, ballet flats, and a white cotton tunic embroidered with violets. Her hair is pulled off to the side in a messy braid, which adds a relaxed air to her very rigid posture. Her shoulders are set as if she’s expecting an attack.

It’s only as Harper pulls away that she recalls their conversation at dinner. Ainsley’s boyfriend, Teddy, has been stolen away by a friend of hers—but not Emma. Someone else. Ainsley did mention Emma, but Harper can’t remember in what context.

Fish climbs up to the front seat, resuming his usual post as copilot.

“Well, the first days are the hardest days, don’t you worry anymore,” Harper sings off-key. She reaches out to rub the back of Fish’s neck, wondering how long it will be until she knows the ins and outs of Ainsley’s personal dramas. At least she remembered that the boyfriend’s name was Teddy. And now she knows that Emma gives Ainsley a ride home.

Harper’s phone rings in the console. She doesn’t answer because she suspects it’s Tabitha calling to make sure Harper got Ainsley to school on time. But when Harper gets back to the carriage house and checks her phone, she sees the missed call is from Rooster.

Harper sighs. She had thought for a moment that she had successfully escaped her life on the Vineyard. She lets Fish out of the car.

“Go,” she says. “But stay out of trouble.”

Fish trots off to check out the grassy terrain of Eleanor’s front yard.

Harper stays in the car, contemplating the phone in her lap. She pictures Rooster, so called because of his bright red hair styled up into a cockscomb, slumped over his desk, wearing his Ray-Ban Wayfarers inside because he is hungover.