“This is Nikki,” she said, “and her husband, Brandon.”
I huffed a short breath out my nose and gave them both a slight nod.
“Brandon and Nikki, this is my boyfriend, Liam. He came with me.”
“What the hell are you doing, Demmy?” Brandon asked with wide eyes. “He can’t stay here!”
“Brandon!” Nikki said as she turned quickly to him. “I asked her to come here and help with the arrangements. It’s not like Liam’s going to be fucking me tomorrow, so what difference does it make? And call her Tria!”
“You agreed to do it,” Brandon said. “You agreed to all of it.”
“Did I say I was backing out?”
The look on Brandon’s face made me wonder if he didn’t hope she would do just that.
“Maybe we should take this inside,” Tria suggested, and after a bit more grumbling, I followed the rest of them up rickety wooden steps to the front door.
The configuration inside the double-RV was odd to say the least. The back part had been cut away to connect with the door of the second RV. The first part had been gutted to be one room housing a kitchen area and a living space. It was cluttered inside but not dirty. The furniture was worn but not quite falling apart. There were pictures of lighthouses on the walls. Lobster knickknacks adorned most of the flat surfaces, and there were piles of homemade candles on every unoccupied square inch. There were stacks of National Fisherman magazines next to a plastic folding chair that faced the couch and a cardboard box filled with mason jars sat near the door.
Under the kitchen table, there were stacks of canned goods, boxes of saltine crackers, and various other bought-in-bulk items. Nikki brought out iced tea in plastic cups that looked like they were collected from some sporting event, but whatever logo had once graced the side was too worn to be discernible. There was a huge pile of them on the counter by the refrigerator.
I felt like I was in some twenty-first century version of Sanford and Son, and I wondered at what point an old guy was going to escape from a back RV and clutch at his heart.
“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Nikki was saying to Tria.
“You would have done the same for me,” Tria replied.
I cringed and glanced over to her, wondering if she realized what she was saying. I could tell by her expression she hadn’t really considered how the words could be taken.
“I mean,” Tria went on, “if I needed you…for anything…”
“I know.” Nikki smiled slightly.
There was a pause in the talking, which became way too long for my liking. I tried sipping the tea, but it was unsweetened, and the bitter taste hung around in the back of my throat.
“So, when’s the party?”
“Liam.” Tria chastised me with her tone and widened eyes.
“What?” I said. “You want to just pretend we’re here for something other than a warped fuck-fest?”
“Liam!” Tria’s eyes widened again, and she mouthed shut up at me.
“It’s okay, Tria.” Nikki spoke up. “What is it that midwesterners say about elephants hanging out at the table or something like that?”
“It’s just an elephant in the room,” Brandon corrected.
“Right.” Nikki agreed with a nod. “Brandon went to the high school in Jonesport. He knows a lot more about life outside.”
“How’d you manage that?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I thought you guys were all pretty much isolated here.”
“We do tend to keep to ourselves,” Brandon said as he eyed me coolly. “But the exile is self-imposed. We stay here because we choose to. I volunteered to go outside for schooling to bring knowledge back to the community.”
His eyes shifted to Tria.
“Which is what Tria should be doing.”
“Brandon.” Nikki sighed as she looked at him.