“Yeah, I’m shedding a tear. On the inside,” said Sabine.
“How much should I bet on your mum trying to squeeze you into saying yes to a university—any university—tonight? I’ve got a twenty.”
“Not a bet I’m willing to take.”
“And even if you do refuse to reveal your innermost secrets to her, you’ve seriously got no clue?”
Sabine shook her head and slurped.
“Just choose. It’s not like you don’t have your pick.” She held up her hand and ticked her fingers as she ran through them. “U of T, Western, Waterloo, McMaster, Queen’s—and—”
“McGill.”
“McGill. And every disgusting one with a full scholarship. God, you’re such a loser.”
They laughed.
“And there’s truly truly no way to get you to prom?”
“Nope.”
“Hopeless,” said Willa.
“Hopeless and useless,” said Sabine, hoping to sound ironic, not pathetic. Tonight, she’d celebrate the end of high school with her mum and Uncle Noah. Tomorrow, official prom night, she and her mum would probably watch a movie. She hoped she was making the right choice to ditch prom. She glanced at Desmond again behind the counter, then back at Willa, and shrugged.
Out on the coach-house deck, Marlow poured her cheap-ass bubbly, now on the warm side, into two flutes. They’d hung Christmas lights out there year-round, which their landlord, friend, and overworked family and estate lawyer Violet Pomerantz helped put up while regaling them with tales of the stupidityof people when money, family, death, and possessions were involved, as well as her adventures in online dating as a forty-something. Marlow had never attempted online dating, and after Violet’s stories, a vow of celibacy seemed preferable. Tonight, Marlow had also bought dollar store paper lanterns, so it looked especially festive.
Sabine opened the takeaway containers and sent a food pic to Willa. “Love the grad sushi, Mum, but can we find a place that doesn’t use black plastic trays?”
“It’s on the list.”
“Yeah, but your list has seven thousand things on it. Where exactly on the list?”
“You want it moved up, sweetheart? Do the research. My exploding brain thanks you.”
Why anyone used those trays was beyond Marlow, too. They couldn’t be recycled in Toronto because the sorter machine’s conveyer belt couldn’t recognize black items, so it went to landfill. Marlow didn’t want a night all about how the planet was going straight into the toilet, but she got why her kid was depressed about these things.
Marlow held up her glass. “To the end of one chapter and the beginning of an even greater one, which I’m sure you’re going to tell me all about—as in, which university you’ve picked—so I can rejoice that my daughter has direction after a stellar year of academic achievement, and I promise to research a sushi place that doesn’t use black trays.”
“Willa tried to bet me twenty bucks you’d bring up university.”
“Fall for it?”
“As if.”
They looked out over the decks and back alleys: kids playing street hockey and hopscotch, people poking about their gardens. They lived above Violet’s garage in a sweet cedar-shingled coach-house in the Annex—only one bedroom, but Marlow could biketo work, so a perfect location. They’d moved in when Sabine was a baby, and the rent was reasonable. Well. Reasonable for Toronto—which wasn’t saying much. When Sabine had gotten older, Marlow had given her the bedroom so she could study. Marlow slept on a Murphy bed in the living room. Now all the other places to rent were too expensive.
“How was your last day?” Marlow asked, smearing wasabi on a California roll.
“Useless. All everyone did was talk about prom.”
“About that …”
“Yes, Mum, I’m sure about missing prom.”
Then Marlow wouldn’t tell Sabine that she’d bought her a ticket in case she changed her mind. A seventy-five-buck safety net.
“Willa and I went for bubble tea. Then Peyton showed up and was all like …” Sabine tossed her hair off one shoulder, adjusted her pretend cleavage, and squeaked: “ ‘OMG, Willa, you bought your dress off the rack? Luck-eee. I had to get mine made from scratch, it took weeks, and was like super expensive, but you only graduate once, right?’ And then she looked at me.”
