Page 23 of Flying

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Wedding Party Details (No Boys)

Thanks, babe! So excited for you. Just wanted to confirm dates for my calendar. I’ll head back for:

• One week in February for the engagement party and catching up

• Month of May for everything from the bachelorette through the big day!

What about a shower? Is that separate from February?

From: Stef

To: Lily, Nessa, Delia, River

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Wedding Party Details (No Boys)

Still TBD. IDK, you are the maid of honor - don’t you plan that?

From: Nessa

To: Stef, Lily, Delia, River

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Wedding Party Details (No Boys)

JUST MOVE HOME, K. THANKS. BYEEEEE

Dr. Nessa Rabin, PsyD

From: River

To: Stef, Nessa, Delia, Lily

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Wedding Party Details (No Boys)

Last I checked, I’m still a boy.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand and I roll over to see the photo I took of Pete sitting at the bar.Lily!I accept the call and realize a moment too late it’s a video call. Scrubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I sit up as Lily rushes out a greeting.

“Oh my god, I’m so so sorry River. I didn’t mean to insult you. Oh shit, it’s early isn’t it?” She says this all within the same beat.

Still groggy, my voice is raspy with sleep but I croak out, “What time is it?”

“Eight. I just finished doing a Live Workout up here in Vermont. I figured since I was out east, I might as well try to catch the fall foliage… or whatever.” Her tone goes from excited to trying to play off being nonchalant but it doesn’t totally catch.

“It’s fine, I’m up. Scout is supposed to be here today to take a look at the cottage with me.” I play it off, he’s not supposed to be here until after his morning classes.

Our mom, Elizabeth, was well aware that the first born son would be named George on paper. George Hendrix has always owned The Featherweight, but that every few generations we stick with ourmiddle names. That’s why I’m George River, son of George Jonathan, grandson ofjustGeorge.

While Grandpa George called Dad a yuppie sellout, Mama was his opposite and quickly her father-in-law’s favorite. Sometimes I wonder if she married him just to make her favorite joke thatif only she was a little older, people would believe she was actually the wife of Jimi Hendrix.

While Dad stressed over profit margins, she blended in with the town. Mama loves her long hikes, collecting new ceramics and paintings from little known artists on trips, and giving her boys all nature-inspired middle names they’re called by. The first names Dad chose were meant to make sure that if we wanted to have a serious job, something in business or politics, we could. My brother Robert Leaf is four years younger than me and won’t touch this place with a ten-foot-pole.

“Just Scout? No Leaf?” she asks.

“Leaf has asked to be calledRobertbecause he is Jonathan’s son through and through. And no. He doesn’t leave Manhattan. Practically hasn’t since he started at NYU. He’s become a full on finance bro.” I don’t hide my frustration with my middle brother. His superiority complex is grating, and since Dad’s stroke a few years ago it’s only become more frustrating.

“Robert?” The question causes a muffled laugh, “Sure. I’ve met the type along the way. What’s his story?”

“Who knows, like I said he doesn’t want to leave Manhattan, he sends home money. That is how he helps… and Dad couldn’t be prouder of him. Ironic, because the way he made the legacy of the George’s out to be a curse it took a stroke for him to finally let go. Despite how much I love it here.” It’s the sleep deprivation, that must be why I’m being too honest.

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