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Outside, the rain and wind whistles and shakes, the concrete giving us extra protection from the elements. I only had a brief look at the camp before we hustled in here, but it seemed pretty standard with a small block for showers and toilets, five tiny freshly-painted raised bungalows, plus a research office. There’s a small dock where the dinghy is tied up, and the view faces the outer reef, plus the calmer expanse of the east lagoon.
No one is talking.
Lacey is sitting there with her arms crossed in a huff, Richard has his glasses off and is rubbing the bridge of his nose, Daisy is taking dainty sips of her coffee and staring at everyone, and Fred looks especially forlorn.
“Should we start with the airing of grievances?” I ask.
Everyone turns to look at me, confused.
Well, Daisy smiles. She gets it.
“The airing of…grievances?” Richard asks, slipping his glasses back on. That poor fucker, he’s been dealing with having half vision for the last week, plus his missing tooth. He probably needs a hug, a hug that Lacey ain’t giving.
“It’s from Seinfeld,” I tell him. “During Festivus. Never mind. The point of it is, I think we have a lot of things we need to say to each other, and I think this is as good of a time as any to say it.”
“Captive audience,” Daisy comments.
“Something like that.”
I look at Lacey, expecting her to have the most to say, but she just looks down at her nails.
“Richard?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “I don’t really have any problems with any of you.”
Pretty sure that’s not true.
“Daisy?”
She shakes her head. “Everyone knows how I feel.”
“Fred?”
“I’m worried about Wilson,” he says with a sigh. “I had to leave him on the other island to get you guys. I should have gone back for him…just hope he stays put. Takes shelter.”
I frown. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Fred.”
He’s a feral goat, I add silently.
“How about I go first,” I say. “I care about each and every one of you. Yes, even you Fred.”
“And Wilson?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say slowly. “The most important thing, though, is that in order for us to get through this together, these next weeks or however long it takes, we have to learn to trust each other. And trust isn’t just about trusting someone with your life, it’s about being able to speak your mind, trusting that the other person isn’t going to walk away from you. I think that’s what we need right now. If we don’t have trust, we don’t have each other. Live together, die alone.”
“Tai,” Daisy warns me. “Stop ripping off quotes from TV shows to use in your speech.”
I wave dismissively, sitting back in my chair. “Fine, fine. Just trying to help.”
Richard clears his throat. “Okay. I do have something to say. This is the circle of trust, right Tai?”
I never used, and never would use, the phrase “circle of trust” but I nod anyway.
“Lacey, dear, my Lacey loo, Lacey lingerie,” Richard says. She looks up at him and he gives her a wane smile. “Sometimes you can be a real bitch.”
My jaw hits the floor.
With wide eyes I look at Daisy, who is gobsmacked, her eyes mirroring mine.
Lacey herself is stunned, gasping, blinking at him. “What?” she finally manages to say.
“Sorry, it had to be said. I love you sweetie, you know I do. But I let you get away with a lot of shit, and if I were a better husband, hell, a better friend, I would have let you know sooner that you need to be better.”
Lacey is still blinking, trying to compose her thoughts. Her face is going pink. “I can’t believe you just called me that,” she says, her voice shrill. “Asshole!”
Richard nods. “Now, I know it’s hard to hear from me because you’re not used to it, and perhaps the term I used was a bit harsh.”
You don’t say.
“I’ll accept the term asshole. But goddamn it, Lacey, you need to give us all a break,” he says, rubbing between his eyes. “I’ve had nothing but headaches since I got here because my glasses are compromised, so excuse me if my language is unfiltered at the moment. Lacey, you’re a good person with a big heart, but if you keep burying it with resentment, then that’s all that’s going to come out. I know we touched on this earlier, but Daisy wasn’t here. Now Daisy is. I think you know what to do.”
We’re all watching Lacey. The storm is raging outside and inside.
“Richard,” Lacey whispers, as if to say, don’t make me do this.
Richard just gives her a placating smile. “I’m not making you do anything.”
Lacey goes from pink to red. She looks away, down at her coffee mug.
We’re all waiting.
Finally, she turns to Daisy, though still avoiding her eyes, and says, “Sorry.”
