Page 20 of The Manor of Dreams

“None of it really makes sense to me. It could have been an overdose, but Ma was always careful with medication. It’s even harder to believe that Elaine would do something like this to her though. But that’s what your mother seems most convinced of at the moment. What I think doesn’t really matter much, does it?”

It matters to me, Madeline thought. “She’s always been like this to you, hasn’t she?”

Aunt Rennie gave her a long look. “She’s like this to most people.”

“But she’s always harder on you.”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s because I have the specific role of being the family fuckup.”

“That’s not—”

“I have no job. I’m always moving from one Los Angeles sublet to another. My marriage imploded so badly it ended up tabloid clickbait.” She gave a small, resigned laugh. “I know what people say about me.”

“I have no job either,” Madeline said plainly.

“But you have time. I ran out of that a while ago.”

Madeline looked toward the trees. When she was younger, her aunt would sometimes visit. She always swept in with only a few days’ notice. Sometimes she’d be in between auditions and regale them with stories for hours. The parties she snuck into, the celebrities she’d met who were kindest. Then she gave up on acting and did a series of oddtheater-related jobs. She would promise to come by for Thanksgiving, but something would always come up last minute. Sometimes Ma would text her for days before she would respond.

The last time Yí Ma visited, she announced she was getting married to an art collector in New York and invited them all to the wedding. Months later she called Ma and told her that they’d eloped in Italy on the Amalfi Coast. Her mother had been furious. Madeline understood it stung to be cut out, but she still admired her aunt’s erratic romanticism. She loved Yí Ma’s free and fleeting joy; how easy it was for Madeline to confide in her; how once, sitting at the dinner table, she noticed that her aunt and her mother shared the same smile, the way their lips dimpled in at the corners.

Now Aunt Rennie simply looked deflated. She drifted through the house, left plates unwashed in the sink, and cupboards hanging open. Madeline asked, “What do people say about you?”

Her aunt shrugged. “?‘Rennie doesn’t know how to handle money.… Rennie runs away from her problems.… Rennie wasted her talent instead of pursuing a stable career.… Rennie sees things like a crazy person.’ Haven’t you heard it all?”

Madeline had heard all but the last. A peculiar sensation settled over her. “What do you mean, see things?”

Aunt Rennie frowned. She opened her mouth as if to say something, and then shut it. “Never mind.”

“What do you see? Like—ghosts?”

“It’s not—” Her aunt faltered. Already she seemed to close off. She gathered up her skirt. “I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s cold out here. I want to go in.” There was a rustle as she stood. Madeline watched her head in, and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

After a while, the door opened again. Ma stood over her, her arms tightly crossed.

“Oh. You’re back. Where’d you go?” Madeline asked.

Ma didn’t answer. “What were you and Yí Ma talking about?”

“Nothing, really.” Madeline craned her neck to look into her mother’s face. “Did something happen in this house? Between you and Elaine?”

“No,” her mother said brusquely. “Why? Did Yí Ma say that?”

“No, I just—”

Her mother switched to Mandarin. “You shouldn’t spend so much time out here. It’s late. And cold. And dirty.”

A long pause. Madeline bundled her knees to her chest. “I’m okay for now.”

Her mother’s presence didn’t budge. Finally, she said with a sudden sharpness in her voice, “Madeline. Go inside.”

In any other circumstance, she would get up. But Ma’s tone grated on her. This was the first time she had seen her mother all day and she hadn’t even asked how Madeline was doing. She felt like a scolded child.

“I heard you,” Madeline said without moving.

Her mother went in without another word.

Madeline didn’t know how long she had been outside. At some point the cold set in and her fingertips went numb. But the wine lingered in her head and kept her warm on the inside.

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