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“Agatha,” Eddie quickly says after her, “make that two glasses.” He gives me a wide grin. “I’ve been drinking too much beer lately; it’s probably time to switch.” He grabs his nonexistent belly in demonstration.
“Please, have a seat,” Monica says again, gesturing to the chair as Agatha goes off toward the kitchen.
I quickly sit, feeling like I’m being a pain in the ass. I’m also still in disbelief that this is happening, like perhaps my mother put those magic mushrooms that grow in our yard in today’s tea and now I’m on a hell of a trip.
Monica sits down on the love seat across from me, while Eddie sits casually on the arm of the plush couch. Harrison moves back toward the windows, though his gaze is tight on me, intense and suspicious. I do my best to ignore him.
Monica, though, must have noticed the look I gave Harrison, because she leans forward, her expression becoming warmer. “We really appreciate you coming over. I know that this all must be such a big change for you, and we want to work with you to make sure that this whole transition goes as smoothly as possible. We want to start off on the right foot, be good neighbors.”
“So far, so good,” I tell her. “Though, to be honest, I think we’re all a little surprised that you picked this island when you could live anywhere you want.”
Monica exchanges an amused look with Eddie before she smiles at me. “We get that a lot. To be honest, we’re surprised that people are surprised. I mean, look at this place. It’s absolutely gorgeous.” She gestures to the view. “Where else in the world could you get this out your back door?”
I can think of a million places. “It’s pretty now, but wait until winter comes. We don’t get a lot of snow in the Pacific Northwest, but we do get months and months of rain and gloom. I’m from Victoria originally, and it took a few winters to get used to how dark it is here. When you’re away from the city lights and the hustle and bustle, you really realize how alone it can feel. No wonder half the town either disappears to Mexico or Hawaii.”
Oh god. I’m rambling.
“I actually like the gloom,” Eddie says. “Monica here is the sun bunny.”
“That’s because you turn into a lobster in the sun,” she points out. “So, Piper, how long have you lived here?”
“Five years. My mom and I moved so I could take a teaching position at one of the elementary schools.”
“Aww.” She breaks into a wide grin. Holy girl crush activated, Batman. “Which grade?”
“Second. Still sweet and innocent.”
“That is so sweet. I would have loved to go into teaching if, well, you know, music didn’t happen. So your mother, does she still live with you?”
People always tend to act funny when I tell them I live with my mother (though it’s more the other way around, but I digress), but Monica merely seems curious.
“She does. She’s got some neurological issues, so she lives with me and I pretty much support her. My father skipped out when I was a teen, so I’m really all she has.”
To her credit, Monica doesn’t look like she pities me. “That’s admirable,” she says. “I hope I can meet her soon.”
I give her a polite smile, secretly hoping that never happens. My mother can be unpredictable, to say the least, and a situation like that might just set her back. She’s been doing good lately but still refuses to see a therapist, and her medication seems to work half the time (probably because she forgets to take it if I don’t remind her). Her whole life has been one step forward and two steps back.
Agatha appears with a tray holding two glasses of white wine, which she hands to me and Eddie, and a plate of tiny slivers of cucumber sandwiches, which she places on the table.
“If you’re hungry.” Monica gestures to it.
I’m not at all, but I take a sandwich, just to be polite, even though it has cream cheese, which tends to turn my stomach upside down.
“Well, it’s good to know that about the winters,” Monica says as I absently nibble on the sandwich sliver. “To be honest, I’m not sure how long we’ll actually be here for. That’s why we’re renting. We’re just kind of . . . figuring things out as we go along. We thought this island would be a good place to do that. Compared to back at home, the media so far has left us alone.”
“You say that,” I tell her, “but I’ve been in town, and people are losing their minds about this.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” she asks, frowning. I probably should keep things positive, so I’m not sure why I’m telling them this.
