Page 113 of Error Handling
“Is it made from actual yak milk?”
I confirm.
“Well, goodness. I had no idea there was such thing as yak farms. Are you feeling better now?”
“A little.”
“You look better. Okay. Just breathe.”
We’re quiet for a moment while I concentrate on inflating and deflating my lungs. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I hope it never does again.
“What happened back there?” Mary says finally.
“Just—Having my mom and dad in the same room judging my paintings, and then my mom always knows how to say the exact wrong thing at the wrong moment.”
“You three aren’t together in the same room very often?” Mary asks.
“Almost never. Their interactions always degrade into an argument and somehow I always get stuck in the middle.”
Mary lets go of my hand and brushes my hair behind my shoulder.
“I’ll tell you what,” Mary says. “I’m going to talk to your father. We’re on vacation. There’s no reason we can’t all get along.”
I bend my knees and wrap my arms around my legs. “It’s a lost cause.”
“You’d be surprised. I know your dad has a reputation, but he listens to me.”
“He didn’t listen to you when you wanted to head to Folly Island instead of hanging in front of my house for an hour.”
“Some buttons aren’t worth pressing. Over the years, I’ve learned to store up my influence and unleash it when it really counts. And this counts. I don’t want you to be miserable around your parents while we’re on vacation.”
“I thought we were going to keep them separated.”
“We can if that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
“Fair enough. I’m going to grab your dad and get us out of here. You spend the rest of your day with your mother and make sure she doesn’t faint again. The woman needs some fat on her bones.”
“I’ll see how much food I can stuff into her this week.”
“Good idea.” Mary stands, her knees popping.
“Thanks, Mary.”
“My pleasure, hon.”
I sit on the grass a moment, trying to expel the last vestiges of panic from my body with every intentional breath.
I wish Chris were here.
Chapter 19
Sarah
Despite my hopes that my parents’ cottages would be on opposite sides of the island, they’re both on the south side only a few streets apart. My mom’s two-story cottage is on 5thStreet, and Dad’s is on 3rd. Both are on the beach side of Arctic Avenue and have direct access to the beach.
Mom’s mint green cottage has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and an open kitchen and living room. It also has ample views of the ocean and surrounding cottages and is separated from the beach by native foliage and palm trees.