Page 103 of Play Nice

“It could be.”

She and Daphne both stare at me.

“What?”

“Do you want it to be?” Daffy asks.

I almost say yes, but I don’t like how the word feels in my mouth, so I swallow it down.

Leda shakes her head. She turns to Daphne. “See?”

“What?” I ask again.

“You’re not normal,” Leda says. “This is not normal human behavior.”

“Plenty of people choose to be single, Leeds.”

“It’s not that,” she says. “It’s—”

“Don’t,” Daphne says. She takes another sip of her drink.

The waiter drops off my second cocktail and takes our lunch order. I get a lobster roll, Daphne a burger, Leda a salad.

“If we’re going to get into it, we might as well get into it,” I say. The second cocktail is better. Worth what it costs.

“Look, I’m glad we’re all sitting down. But let’s not have it be…” Daffy trails off. “It’s been tough since Alexandra…”

“Died,” I say. “The audacity of that woman.”

“Dude, come on,” Daffy says. “Don’t be difficult.”

“She can’t help herself,” Leda says.

“You’re upset that I read the book. You’re upset that I went to Mom’s funeral. You’re upset that I’m taking care of the house. Those things have nothing to do with you. They’re my decisions.”

“They affect us. You must understand that on some level,” Daphne says, chewing on her cocktail straw.

I shrug.

“She doesn’t. You know what I think, Clio?” Leda asks, leaning forward. “I think you don’t care about anyone but yourself. I think you’re incapable of empathy. And either what happened in our childhood affected you so deeply that it made you this way, or it’s something you can’t help. Honestly, I think you might have antisocial personality disorder.”

I’ve never taken an arrow to the chest, but I imagine it feels something like this.

Daphne closes her eyes and exhales.

“You think I’m a sociopath?”

“Tom has a minor in psychology,” Leda says. “And I’ve done some reading.”

“You’ve talked to Tommy about this?” I’m hurt, and I have nothing to disguise my hurt. Nothing to hide behind. I can’t force a laugh or a smile. I have no wisecrack. No comeback. I’m empty.

“Leda,” Daphne says. “Both of you. Just…stop. Take a breath. Clio, she didn’t mean it.”

“I do mean it. I know you want to be mediator, Daffy, but you don’t get to make me bad cop. We’ve talked about this, too.”

“You talked. I listened. I’m always listening. Always in the fucking middle.”

“You two said you saw Mom burn me,” I say. “Is that true?”