The Cousins(73)

But I understand Milly not seeing it that way.

We lapse into silence as the car glides smoothly along. I scroll through my messages, reading a new one from my father about how ungrateful and disappointing I am, plus an update from my mother sharing the kind of news he won’t: Coach Matson has gone public with her pregnancy. Mom doesn’t come right out and say that everybody knows who the father is, but she doesn’t have to. I know how our town operates; nothing stays quiet for long.

Oh, and the baby is going to be a boy.

I hope it’s okay to tell you this via text, Mom writes. You’ve been so hard to reach, and I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.

I feel a sharp pang of guilt. She’s right; ever since I stopped talking to Dad, I cut back on returning calls from my mother, too. Not because I’m angry at her—God no, not even a little bit—but because stepping away from the misery of Coach Matson’s pregnancy has been a massive relief. With everything that’s been happening this past week, I almost managed to forget about it.

It’s around ten in the morning in Oregon, so Mom’s at the hospital, at work, and won’t check her phone for hours. Still, I fire back a series of texts:



Thanks for telling me.

I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. There’s a lot going on here.

I’ll call you soon to explain.

Also, just so you know, whatever you decide to do next in this mess: I’m with you.

Figuratively and literally.

Like, I will move out with you, if that’s what you want.

GLADLY.

I’m sorry I haven’t said that before now.

I love you lots.

Just as I hit Send on the last one, my phone rings, and I stare disbelievingly at Thomas’s number. “You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter.

“Who is it?” Milly asks. I hold up my phone, and she makes a face when she sees the name. “Ugh. Are you going to answer?”

“Might as well,” I sigh. “I’m ripping off all the Band-Aids today. Hi, Thomas.”

“Dude.” The word sets my teeth on edge. I’ve never liked that Thomas calls me dude, like I’m one of his volleyball teammates. “Did your dad seriously knock up your swim coach?”

We’re approaching the gate to Catmint House. The chauffeur eases to a stop and pulls the silver card he needs to open the gate from his sun visor. He’s about to get an earful he never asked for, but oh well. “Did you seriously just ask me that?” I say to Thomas.

“Dude, come on. That’s, like, insane.”

“Nice speaking with you too, Thomas. Work has been fine, thanks for asking. What have you been up to all summer?”



Milly smirks across from me as Thomas launches into an excruciatingly detailed monologue. Unsurprisingly, he took my sarcasm as actual interest. “Thomas,” I finally interrupt. “That’s great. I’m glad things are going well at Best Buy. But why are you calling me?”

“Because your dad—”

“Okay, no.” For the first time ever, I have zero patience with Thomas. “I get that you want the inside scoop. But you and I are broken up.”

“We are?” Thomas says uncertainly. Not like he’s upset about it. More like he’s surprised I brought it up.

“You ignored every single one of my texts as soon as I got here,” I remind him.

“I was busy,” he says defensively. “Anyway, when I did send some, you ignored them right back.”

“Right,” I say, thinking of Oona’s words in her shop. Life is complicated in the digital age. “Which means we’re through, doesn’t it?”

“So you want to break up?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” he finally admits. “I have for a while, actually. But I didn’t think you did.”

I suppress a sigh. We could argue back and forth about how crappy it was of him to leave me hanging like that, but I don’t exactly have the time right now. And it doesn’t matter. It’s been creeping up on me ever since I got to the island what my relationship with Thomas really is: something that should’ve ended a few months after it began in eighth grade, when he started treating me like an afterthought. But it didn’t end, because there was something almost comfortable about that. I was used to it.



The chauffeur eases the Bentley to a stop in front of Catmint House. “Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up,” I say into the phone. “Enjoy the rest of your summer.” I disconnect, and Milly starts clapping softly.

“Can we just take a minute to appreciate how much better you’ve gotten at telling people off over the phone?” she says with a grin.

I execute an awkward seat bow. “Thank you.”

“Allow me to get your door, Miss Story,” the chauffeur says. He does, and doesn’t bat an eye when Milly climbs out the other door, unassisted.

“Let’s see what Mildred wants, huh?” she says, linking her arm with mine as we make our way to the wide slate steps. Before we get to the top, the door swings open to reveal Theresa.

“Hello, Aubrey. And…Milly.” Her placid smile falters as she takes in my cousin. “Mrs. Story is expecting you, Aubrey. Please come in.” She steps aside, then right back in front of us as Milly moves to cross the threshold with me. “Milly, this invitation was for Aubrey only.”