The Rest of the Story(60)

It was true. Not so much about the suffering, but the extra hands on deck. The morning after the first official North Lake Prom, Trinity had woken up with some light spotting, which prompted a panicky trip to the ER. She wasn’t in labor, but they did put her on bed rest. That left only Mimi and me to clean rooms, so Bailey had been coming in afternoons after her shift at the Station as well as her days off, with Roo and Jack filling in as they could as well. When Gordon got strep throat and couldn’t go to camp, she’d been recruited as well. Somehow, we were getting both turnover and housekeeping done, although with two beginners and one super-reluctant veteran, I wasn’t exactly sure how.

The truth was, everything had been chaotic since that morning, and not just because of the bed rest and new workload. There was also the issue of my dad and Tracy’s return from Greece, scheduled for late that evening. The plan had been for them to return to Nana’s, who had just gotten home from her own trip, then come fetch me so we could all move over to the new house. But the “easy” remodel of Nana’s condo had hit a permitting snag. With our new house also still needing some work to pass inspection, I was now the only one with someplace to stay.

“I mean, we can do a hotel,” my dad had said the day before, calling from Athens, where he was about to board his plane. “But your grandmother . . .”

He didn’t finish this thought, not that he had to. Nana was used to a certain level of comfort. All she wanted to do was get back to her newly redone home, and now she couldn’t even do that.

I, however, felt like I’d been given a break by the universe. If the house wasn’t ready, I could just remain here for a while longer. When I floated this by my dad, though, he was not convinced.

“You’ve been there three weeks,” he told me. “We don’t want you to outstay your welcome.”

“I’m helping,” I pointed out. “They need me to clean rooms at the motel anyway.”

“You’re cleaning rooms at Calvander’s?”

Whoops. I bit my lip, realizing I shouldn’t have shared this. “Just because they’re short-staffed. With the baby coming and everything.”

“Baby?”

“Trinity. Celeste’s daughter? She’s having a baby really soon.”

“Who?”

I sighed, switching my phone to my other ear. Downstairs, I could hear Oxford in the kitchen, making coffee and rustling around with the paper. Even though it hadn’t been that long since I’d arrived, it was already hard to imagine a morning now that didn’t start this way. “The point is, I’m happy to stay here and I’m sure it’s okay with Mimi.”

“But what if I don’t want you to stay?” he replied.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

I heard some friction on the line. “Because,” he said, his voice quiet, “we’re starting a new life in a new house, as a new family. It seems only right we do it together.”

“But you just said the house wasn’t ready.”

“Well, it isn’t.”

“So how are we going to stay there?”

“Emma.” Before, he’d sounded tired. Now, irritation was creeping in. “Just let Mimi know you’ll be leaving by the end of the week.”

“But—”

“Let her know,” he repeated, as in the background, an announcement began. “That’s our group. I’ll call as soon as we’re back in your time zone. Okay?”

“Okay,” I replied. “Fly safe.”

We hung up, and I flopped back against my pillow, looking at the ceiling above me. After sulking a bit, I went downstairs for toast and the obits, and when I saw Mimi, I told her nothing. My dad was in the air, over an ocean. I still had some time, and there were rooms to clean.

Now, I pulled out my spray bottle, pumping the handle until the small glass table I was standing over was covered with bleach solution. As I started to wipe it clean, Trinity said, “Who are you today, Saylor?”

I looked down at my bottle, where a name was written in pink Sharpie, surrounded by plump hearts. “Vicki,” I said.

“Oh, right,” she replied. “Big on pink, not so much on working. I think she lasted one season.”

“And a half,” Bailey said, banging against something in the bathroom. Thump. Thump. “She took off with that trucker, remember?”

Trinity thought for a second. “God, you’re right!”

“Of course I am,” Bailey said. “I remember everything. All details, every story. You know that.”

“Is this good?” Gordon, now at the edge of the mirror, her face red with exertion, asked.

“Missed a spot,” Trinity told her, pointing to the left side.

As Gordon started rubbing again, I asked, “Is that true, Bailey? Do you really remember everything?”

Another thump. Then, “Yeah. It’s like a gift. Or a curse.”

“It’s seriously creepy sometimes,” Trinity added. “She remembers the stuff she wasn’t even here for, because she’s heard Mom tell her stories.”

“Do you remember hearing about when I was here?” I asked Bailey as she threw a pile of towels out the bathroom door. “When we were four?”

“Yeah,” she said. Her voice carried out as she added, “Your mom and dad were going on a trip and they left you with Mimi.”