Page 73 of The Treasure House

“You get to be the best part of the team,” Flo scolded him. “The part that eats the pie.”

He didn’t argue with that. In fact, he was trying not to smile.

Seventeen

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, AND OXEYE, MAINE, 1956

When the invitation came for Sylvie’s wedding, Marly was livid. “What is this?” she demanded, thrusting the card in front of her mother. It was a dreary March Monday in Marly’s junior year; she had only collected the mail because she liked to get the paper to check the society pages. Sometimes Freddie de Marche was in there, grinning at the camera in that overconfident way of his. That way that made Marly shiver all the way to her toes.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table in her dressing gown, staring out the window at the melting sludge of snow, lost in thought. She frowned at the invitation Marly was holding in front of her nose.

“She’s getting married at the summer place on Tinker Street!” Marly raged. “Did you know about this?” she accused. “Getting married at Tinker Street was my wedding idea!” Marly dropped the invitation on the table and slammed around the kitchen getting breakfast.

“You’re not getting married,” Mom said, sounding irritated. She was irritable a lot these days. It made Marly feel like screaming. She couldn’t say anything to her mom anymore.

“Oh, isn’t that lovely.” Mom’s irritation evaporated as she examined Sylvie’s wedding invitation, her expression turning dreamy. “I do love a wedding.”

Marly scowled. Her mom loved Sylvie. She didn’t even care that Sylvie had stolen Marly’s wedding idea.

“I called dibs on the Tinker Street garden for weddings.” Marly had been dreaming of her wedding. To Freddie de Marche. Which would happen under the tree where they’d first met.

“You can’t call dibs on a garden.”

“Yes, you can. I said I wanted to get married in the garden and I wanted to carry daisies and look.” Marly pointed an angry finger at the daisy on the invitation.

“Marly, try and be happy for your cousin.”

“I am happy for her. I’m just not happy she stole my wedding idea.” Marly slapped the newspaper down on the table and flipped straight to the back. She scanned the page as she crammed her burned toast in her mouth.

“She didn’t steal your wedding idea. She just wants to get married at the coast. You’re not the only one attached to the house on Tinker Street, you know. Or to daisies.” Mom gave a heavy sigh. “It will be nice to go back to the beach. It’s been a long time between summers.”

Marly felt like throwing the paper across the room. It was bad enough it was Monday and she had a history quiz, but now Sylvie had stolen her wedding idea, Mom was being annoying, and there was no Freddie in the society pages.

“I’m going to call Bet about Priscilla’s wedding,” Mom said, heading for the hall.

“Sylvie’s wedding,” Marly corrected.

“What?”

“Sylvie. It’s Sylvie getting married.”

But Mom wasn’t listening. She was already out in the hall and Marly could hear the whir of the phone as she dialed.

“Have you noticed Mom’s been weird?” Bobby said, as he came into the room on a wave of drugstore aftershave. He’d been home from college for the weekend and seemed in no hurry to get back, even though Marly knew he had Monday classes.

“Mom’s always weird,” Marly told him shortly.

“No, I mean, extra weird. Did you notice that last night she couldn’t turn the TV on?”

“You mean she was lazy and asked you to do it.”

“Marilyn, stop being a pain in the ass for five minutes. I’m serious.”

He never called her Marilyn, so she listened.

“I watched her. She genuinely couldn’t figure out how to turn it on. And she had a face like… I don’t know… a confused little kid or something.”

Marly frowned. “Maybe she had a headache?” But now that Bobby had mentioned it, Mom had been a bit weird. She’d forgotten to pick up Dad’s dry cleaning a few times, which Marly had suspected she’d done on purpose to annoy him, because Mom was tetchy with him a lot lately. But that was weird too. Because she wasn’t a generally tetchy person. Marly’s parents usually rolled along side by side peaceably. Neither of them liked conflict.