Page 29 of These Summer Storms

It didn’t matter what she felt, she told herself as she stood and made for the door. For the hallway beyond. For her room. Or maybe outside. Maybe she’d go for a run, though running around and around the island wasn’t the most freeing experience.

“Where are you going, Alice?” Elisabeth called after her from where she stood now, by the enormous fireplace, a yawning black marble hearth that must have threatened to sink the boat it came in on a century earlier. “You haven’t told us what you’re supposed to do.”

“Nothing.” She met her mother’s gaze. “I didn’t get a letter.”

Everyone looking at her, a Last Supper of self-absorption. That her father had forgotten to include her in his game elicited complex emotions, but the fact that her family hadn’t realized it…well there wasn’t much to do but laugh.

Sam unfroze first, all his attention directed at Jack. “Does that mean she gets her cut free and clear? Or is she not in it?”

“She can’t be in it,” Sila said, and it was impossible not to hear a thread of glee in her words. “Oh my god. She’s out. It’s splitfourways.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise. It shouldn’t hurt so much, when she didn’t care about the money at all.

Something flashed in Jack’s gaze as he watched her siblings, barely there and impossible to miss. Disgust. And then it was gone, replaced with that unruffled calm that she was coming to realize was his zero state. He looked to his watch, slow and methodical, all the time in the world collected and stored in steel and Swiss movement.

Ignoring Sila, he said, “You’ll find, Sam, that it’s the nine o’clock hour. If you’re planning to vie for your own cut, you’re not allowed to speak for another”—he paused—“forty-three minutes.”

Around the room, eyes went wide and jaws went slack. Except for Sam’s, which narrowed and tightened. But he didn’t speak.

Alice looked to her brother, another laugh rising. “You can’t speak?” A pause. “I thought he sentenced you to a week’s hard labor.”

“He did. But that wasn’t his only task.” Jack answered for him. “During odd-numbered hours, Sam cannot speak.”

It would not be too much to describe the response in the room as something close to delight. “At all?” Emily asked.

“At all,” Jack confirmed.

“For a whole week!” Greta chortled. “Looks like Dad left us a gift after all.”

Rude gestures remained available to Sam, and he was not above using them.

“This isn’t fair,” Sila whined, making Alice reconsider whether Franklin really had given them a gift—as Sam’s silence would only serve to make Sila doubly present. “It’s not just the not speaking. We have a whole list! Isn’t this whatCharlieis for?”

“It is strange thatSamhas to do all this.” It was impossible to miss Elisabeth’s obvious lack of faith in her only son’s abilities to accomplish any of the tasks on the list. Or to keep his mouth shut.

“The jobs are presented to the entire family,” Jack interjected, “the kids, too.”

“I know we said we didn’t need Avery this week,” Sila whisper-whined at Sam, “but I think we should bring her out. She can handle all this.”

“I’m afraid not,” Jack said. “No assistants or outside help are invited.”

Sila turned an icy stare on him. “Invitedsuggests we have a choice, Jack.”

“Oh please, Sila,” Greta snapped. “You’d be here even if you were able to choose. Whatever it takes to secure the bag, right?”

“Greta,” Emily said softly. A caution. “Try a centering breath.”

Greta was not a centering breath kind of person. Especially not when Sila replied, lifting her chin and leveling her sister-in-law with a cool gaze, “I’mhere,becauseIcarried theheir.”

It was a clear dig at Greta, unmarried and without children, and it struck a chord, as it always did. Greta went rigid, knitting her fingers together in her lap to avoid the quieting touch Emily attempted.

Alice was not so subtle. While she didn’t always understand Greta, she certainly wasn’t about to let Sila take swipes at her. “Unfortunately, Sila, despite our father clearly believing he would rule from on high forever, there’s no divine right of kings at play here.” She turned to Jack. “Or maybe I’m wrong. Does Sila get anything forcarrying the heir?”

She didn’t miss the response that flashed across his face, fleeting, but clear.Admiration.Not that Alice was interested in being admired by him, a deeply unadmirable person. “Not to my knowledge, no.”

“Looks like the boats need descaling after all,” Alice said with a cool glance at the couple on the couch. Too bad they didn’t have to dredge the septic field—if ever there were two people who needed to spend some time knee-deep in shit, it was Sam and Sila. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you all after you’re done…wringing hands or whatever.”

She turned and made to open the door, coming up against immediate resistance. Looking through the crack, she caught the surprised gazes of Sam and Sila’s children, Saoirse and Oliver, who had no doubt recently had their ears pressed to the door. Her brows went up and the kids looked terrified, leaving a pang of guilt thrumming through her.

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