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She picks up the Marvin Gaye—this feels like the mood she’s seeking—and then she peers at the framed 45 that’s hanging on the wall above the turntable.
Chubby Checker, “The Twist.” And it’s signed!
Ahhhhhh!Dru-Ann thinks.
Does “the Twist” have another meaning for Dru-Ann? When she sees all the notifications on her phone—she heard it buzzing away in the car but ignored it—she wonders if it just might.
Check Twitter,Gucci Bex said.
Dru-Ann blinks. Is sheseeingthings or is #TeamDruAnn trending?
She can’t help but sing along with Marvin Gaye.“What’s going on? What’s going on?”
Dru-Ann scrolls and clicks until she finds a very cute picture of Phineas Pine holding aloft the venerated Claret Jug (the silver jug isn’t as well known in the States as the Masters’ green jacket is, but who’s to say the Masters isn’t next for Phineas?). Standing beside Phineas, Posey Wofford is gazing up adoringly at her beloved.
Twitter has things to say about this photo. Didn’t Posey Wofford quit her own tournament due to “mental-health issues”? Is it possible she used mental health as an excuse so that she could fly to Scotland to cheer on her boyfriend? That’s certainly what it looks like, Twitter says. And if so, how appalling. Posey Wofford is not only antifeminist (prioritizing Phineas’s career over her own) but also disrespectful of people who do suffer from anxiety and depression.
Posey Wofford was “depressed” until her beau @phinpinegolf started sinking putts,one tweet says.Then she perked right up! #supportmentalhealth #cancelPosey #TeamDruAnn.
This feels like the usual Twitter noise—surely these people realize that Posey couldlookhappy on the outside but still be suffering. Then Dru-Ann finds a clip of Phineas’s press conference. He’s incandescent with joy, as well he should be. It’s a big deal, winning the British Open at the Old Lady. His name will go down in history, and Dru-Ann is certain that every time he blinks, he sees dollar signs.
When asked about Posey’s mental state, Phineas says, “I told her I had a dream I was going to win and that I wanted her here to see every bit of it.”
“So she’s not battling mental-health demons, then?” a reporter asks.
“Mental-health demons?” Phineas says. “Posey? No way.” He sounds so incredulous that Dru-Ann wonders if he’stryingto ruin Posey’s reputation. Maybe now that he’s golf’s new sweetheart, he plans on trading up. Maybe next month he’ll be dating Zendaya.
Ha!Thatwould be a twist,Dru-Ann thinks.
A text comes in from Nick:I think Posey needs your help managing this mess.
Posey is fired,Dru-Ann writes back.But I’m willing to make Phineas my first male client. Have him call me.
Three dots rise.What about me?Nick says.Can you forgive an indulgent father?
Decision pending further review,Dru-Ann writes, and she hits Send.
She wades through her voice mails. Dean Falzarano fromNew Yorkhas called to apologize. The magazine will not only run Dru-Ann’s piece about the ice skaters, they’d also like to commission five thousand words on “the Posey Wofford situation.” Do you have anything to say on the subject? Dean wants to know.Oh, do I,Dru-Ann thinks.
Zeke fromThrow Like a Girlhas left a voice mail saying, “Expecting you in the studio on Tuesday. Sorry about the mix-up.” Dru-Ann would like to tell Zeke to go pound sand but she loves that gig and she feels a duty to save Marla—and her viewers—from Crabby Gabby. Maybe now is the moment to ask for a better time slot. Monday evenings, right beforeSportsCenter?
Finally, there’s a voice mail from JB walking back his request for Dru-Ann’s resignation. Dru-Ann sighs. She’s not sure if she should sue JB, orchestrate a hostile takeover of his company, or call Phineas’s agent, Gannon, to see if he wants to partner up and launch a new agency.
She’s going to think about it.
Caroline sits on the front steps of First Light, where she can see the rows of hydrangea bushes lining the driveway, and opens the text from Isaac.
It’s a selfie of him and Sofia, their faces squished together. They’re grinning like goofy kids; there’s love in their eyes. Below the picture it says:Thank you.
Caroline clicks out of texts. It’s unfair—first Dylan and Aubrey, now Isaac and Sofia. Caroline is left with no one.
She hears a door open and sees Dru-Ann step out of the guest cottage. “Looks like someone’s in their feelings,” Dru-Ann says. She takes a seat next to Caroline on the stairs. “Spill it, girl, what’s going on?”
It’s stupid,Caroline nearly says, but she knows Dru-Ann actuallywantsto hear about her problems. She tells her, in a very disjointed fashion, about all of it: The long-ago bonfire with Dylan where Aubrey kicked sand in her face, Isaac crying about his mother, who died when he was nine, Orion sucking on bacon,Please, no trouble,ain’t it funny how the night changes, the Lyft of Shame, Isaac’s golden tea and cashews from Kalustyan’s, their kiss, their drone lesson in Central Park, Thomas the Tank Engine, Sofia’s return, Dylan waiting for her at the Box, making out, Sofia’s texts, Caroline’s Instagram post, Aubrey throwing a drink in her face, her call with Sofia, seeing Dylan with Aubrey and Orion at Provisions,mon petit chou.
When Caroline finally stops to take a breath—did any of that make sense?—Dru-Ann says, “So you’re telling me you made out with your longtime high-school crushandyou had a brief, steamy love affair with your genius boss?”
Caroline nods.
