Page 73 of These Summer Storms

Sam heard, and didn’t like it. He lifted his phone and typed as Sila crossed to sit next to him on the couch. “Have. You. Done. It. Yet.” The robotic voice spoke as he stared Greta down.

“Done what?” she asked.

His phone didn’t have to reply. His face said plenty.

Greta spun on Alice. “You told him?”

“I absolutely did not,” she protested.

“It sure sounds like you did.”

“Greta. I—”

“No one told him.” Sila leaped in, quickly dismissing any possibility that she might be defending Alice with, “We found your letter.”

“Found,” Emily said, her disbelief palpable as she came out of her chair and slid into a deep side bend.

Alice couldn’t help her scoff. “Went looking for it, I think you mean.”

Sam had the grace to look guilty but was surely grateful he was forbidden to speak (apologize) as Sila’s brow furrowed. “It’s only right that we all know how everyone is getting on with their tasks—we’re very public about ours. Sam isn’t speaking. We’re descaling boats and fixing fog bells.” She sat back and crossed her arms like she was Elisabeth’s favorite in-law. “We’re right to check in. It’s our inheritance, after all.”

“Sam’s inheritance,” Alice said.

“What?” Sila snapped.

“It’s Sam’s inheritance. Not yours.”

Sila narrowed her gaze on Alice. “Sam has children, Alice. I speak for them.”

“Could someone please tell me what Greta must do?” Elisabeth interjected, clearly irritated. “I loathe it when you all gang up on me.”

As though they weren’t all ganged up on Greta.

Sila was on a roll. “Greta has to end her relationship with Tony.”

One did not have to be a mind reader to know that everyone in the room was thinking some version of the same thing:Why didn’t Franklin shut you up, too.

“Sad, of course,” Sila added in the silence (not a mind reader, apparently), “but we can all surely agree the inheritance is…most important?” As though the inheritance wasn’t on everyone’s mind, all the time. “If she doesn’t do it, there is no inheritance.”

“Thumbs-up emoji.” Sam’s phone, having the last word.

Alice ignored it all, focused on Greta, still consumed by the carpet. Silent. Of course she was. Greta’s truth was always lost in silence, and there were moments when Alice couldn’t bear it, wanting to shake her into action. “Greta,” she urged. “He was just here.”

Greta looked up at that. “Where?”

“In the hallway. Probably to make sure you were okay. And not being gaslit. You should go see if he’s—”

“Greta isn’t going anywhere,” Elisabeth said. “And no one is gaslighting anyone.”

“Of course not. You’d never do that, Mom,” Alice said.

“Careful,” Emily said, the words echoing inside the forward fold. “She doesn’t like being called that.”

“Called what?” Alice asked.

“Mom.”

Elisabeth put a hand to her brow. “Oh for God’s sake, Emily. Would you stop being so dramatic? This is exactly why I am concerned people won’t believe this is a functioning family.”

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