The Loose Ends List(19)

“It’s him. Captain Do Me.” Janie peeks through the grove of trees rising above the Grotto. “My heart is beating out of my chest,” she says, ducking a little.

“Who, him?” Gram says loudly. “Oh, that’s Ty. He’s one of my doctors.”

“How is he a doctor?” I ask. “He looks more like a fugitive from one of our lake parties.”

“He just finished Duke medical school. He’s an intern here, and very passionate about the movement. He’s seen your gram in the buff, girlies. Lucky boy.” Gram waves Do Me over.

“Hello, Ty. Come meet my granddaughters. They’ve been calling you Captain Do Me. Isn’t that darling?”

Janie’s face is a deep shade of mortification.

“Oh, yeah?”

He grins and stares right at Janie.

“She’s nineteen, Ty, so she’s perfect for you. And these girls can beat the best of them in science.”

“Gram, please. Not the science. Leave something to the imagination,” I joke, trying to deflect. I can feel Janie’s humiliation travel through the depths of the Grotto like an electric current.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ty says. He gives Janie one more smile and walks away.

“Gram, I can’t believe you,” Janie says. Gram can still trigger the tween in Janie.

“I broke the ice, didn’t I? Now, don’t put out too quickly with this one. It would be nice to die knowing one grandchild is spoken for.”

Janie gets up and wraps herself in a towel. “I’m in college, Gram. Stop trying to marry me off.”

I can’t stop thinking about Mystery Guy. I dragged Aunt Rose around in the wheelchair again this morning, hoping to see him. But no luck. Aunt Rose has become like one of those puppies single guys take to Central Park when they’re trying to pick up women. We ended up sidetracked, talking to Dad, Bob Johns, and Uncle Billy, who were playing poker with Vito. Then we got tied up in the arcade with an old-school game called Whac-A-Mole, where little mole heads pop up and we hit them over the head with a hammer.

“Okay, honey, time to hoist my shriveled bum out of the tub. I have to go to group.”

“Oh, please pull your suit down, Gram. Your tattoo is showing.”

“So what? I’m not ashamed of it.”

“What’s group?” I slap a towel around Gram’s waist.

“It’s on the patients-only floor. We get together and talk about doomsday, and bitch and moan about what pains in the ass our families are, and so on and so forth.”

“Nice. Have fun with that.”



Mom and I find Aunt Rose on her balcony tossing popcorn to a flock of seabirds trailing the ship. She flings a handful, and one of the birds head-butts another, then dives into the whitecaps.

“Ride, Aunt Rose?”

We take the elevator down to the lobby and push Aunt Rose through the tropical maze of flowering plants and down the windowed corridor to the ballroom. We pause to study the conga line mural and weave through the café. We stop at the chapel where big buffoon Burt is sitting alone in a pew. He sees us and gives an awkward salute.

“Hey there, ladies,” he says. “Just taking a minute to get my prayer on.”

“Where’s Mark?” I push Aunt Rose into the chapel. It’s a beautiful room. A stained-glass window spans the outside wall and lets in trickles of light that streak the pews with color.

“He went to group with Paige.”

“Wait, I thought group was patients only.”

“Yeah, it is.” Burt looks at me funny.

“So she dropped him off?”

“No. She went with him. Oh—” Burt’s face drops when he realizes he’s breaking bad news. “Paige is a patient. Brain tumor.”

“Oh my God. That’s terrible,” Mom says. “Poor thing. I assumed her dad was the patient. Well, I’m just sick about this.”

Somebody had stuck a wad of gum behind one of the pews. I wonder how many pieces the person had to chew to get such a wad. And what would make a person stick it here, in this beautiful room?

“Mads? You okay, hon?”

I’m not. I’m not okay.

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to pray,” Aunt Rose says.

“How about we give Burt some privacy?” Mom turns the chair toward the door.

“No, that’s okay. Wheel her over. I’ll bring her back up in a little while.”

We leave Burt and Aunt Rose in the chapel, and I drop Mom off in the café. I can’t listen to her crap about how fatty the fish is on the ship or how her seasickness patches aren’t working. My big sister is dying.



Sunsets are big on the Wishwell. Today they’re playing a song on our bees, to remind us that the sunset will peak in fifteen minutes. Eddie invites us to meet at the pool for cocktails and photos.

I’m under the covers when the song comes on. Beethoven or Bach. Who the hell knows?

Camilla buzzes three times. She wants to get in to do turndown. I decide I’m just going to talk to Paige. I can’t avoid her.

Everyone is on the deck, clean and shiny, dressed for dinner and poker and other stupid things. Gram and Bob are laughing over cocktails with Gloria, the bald woman with the purple lipstick, and her husband, the minister. I find Paige sitting cross-legged on the Grotto steps with Grace on her lap.