It alarmed me that Mom was more invested in Madison than I was in the stock market. Maybe she simply liked the idea of me not dying an old, solitary grinch. Madison was the only woman I’d brought home since She Who Shall Not Be Named.
“I would love to,” Mad exclaimed sunnily. I didn’t doubt her enthusiasm. Knew she’d rather take a bath in a deep fryer than spend a minute with me.
Katie and Mom exchanged the Look. The one they shared whenever they watched Pride and Prejudice and Colin Firth was stuttering something charming onscreen.
I stabbed at my steak like it had tried to stab me first, watching it bleed juicily onto my plate, feeling an impending calamity hanging over my head.
Mad was digging her obnoxiously patterned, colorful roots into the Black family, and my parents and sister were falling hard and fast.
Unlike me. I was the only Black who was immune to her charms. To her smiles. To her heart.
I promised myself that.
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDIE
March 1, 2001
Dear Maddie,
Today was not a good day. I know you were upset when we told you we couldn’t afford to pay for your school trip to the Statue of Liberty. Your father and I are struggling financially; that’s not a secret, but I wish it was. I wish we could keep this fact away from you, to afford all the things you want to do.
There is so much I want to give you, but I can’t. My treatments are getting pricier, and ever since your father had to hire an assistant to run the shop while I’m in treatment or recovering, we’ve been treating things we took for granted like luxuries.
What broke my heart today wasn’t even that you were sad about the trip—but that you tried to hide it from us. Your eyes and nose were red after you came back from your room, but you smiled like nothing happened.
Fun fact of the day: Jasmine is called queen of the night in India, because of its strong scent after sunset. I left some in your room. My version of an apology. Remember to tend to them. You can learn a lot about a person’s sense of responsibility and devotion by the way they keep their flowers.
Thank you for tending to us, even when we can’t tend to you in all areas in life.
Love,
Mom. x
“To be honest, I thought you didn’t like us very much.” Katie dragged her thimble over the Monopoly board, her brows furrowed in concentration. The drawing room was bathed in golden light. The rich carpets over exposed wood, Pinterest-worthy fireplace, and handmade crème-and-blue throws made me feel like I was cocooned inside one of those Jen Aniston movies where everything looked perfect all the time.
In the last couple of hours, Katie had purchased all four railroads on the board and was in the process of acquiring over three houses on the orange-colored group. Last I paid attention, she’d been driving Lori and me to the ground, leaving us with measly small sheds in the bad parts of town and the clothes on our backs. Luckily, Lori and I were sharing a bottle of wine and pieces of gossip about the royal family, which, it turned out, we both shared an unhealthy obsession with. We’d spent the last hour dissecting Kate Middleton’s wedding dress before moving to the grave topic of Meghan’s wedding tiara.
“Are you kidding me?” I pressed my wineglass to my blistering cheek, enjoying its cool sensation. I was probably slurring. The four glasses of champagne and one glass of wine on a relatively empty stomach weren’t a good idea, but I had to dull all the Chaseness around me. He was a lot to deal with. “I love you guys. Ronan is, like, a legendary fashion icon, Lori is the mom I wish I still had, and you . . . Katie, you’re . . .” I paused, blinking at the Monopoly board. I hated the idea they thought I wasn’t around because of them. Hated that Chase had kept the truth from them and villainized me in the process. “You’re seriously someone I would be good friends with. The first time we met, at Christmas, my dress tore up across my ass. You didn’t even blink before ushering me to your room and giving me something to wear.” A Prada something, to be exact. It had taken everything in me to send it back with a thank-you note. “You’re amazing, Katie. Like, really amazing.” I leaned forward, putting my hand on her arm. I couldn’t tell through the fog of intoxication if we were having a tender moment or an awkward one.
Her eyes clung to mine. “Really? Because I thought maybe it was me.”
“Why would it be you?” My eyes widened.
“I don’t know,” Katie said, so sweetly shy she looked like a kid, even though she was older than I was. Her voice was like broken glass.