Page 31 of On Fire Island

“Indeed,” Shep agreed. “You gotta swim against the current, or it could take you away forever.”

Ben stepped a few feet into the ocean and threw the glass canister into the water. We stood quietly and watched the waves transport it.

Ten minutes later, we were all right back where we started.

“Hello, house; hello, exact spot where we got engaged!” I called, entertaining only myself.

eighteen

The Ten O’Clock Ferry

The morning walk around the block didn’t seem to have affected Ben in any way, and clearly, I was still here, but Shep looked more introspective than usual. It was obvious that he was sad—you could see it in his lackluster swing.

“What’s up with him today?” Eddie asked Ben quietly.

“Hard morning, I guess.” Ben explained, “We did this end-of-shiva thing—I think he’s feeling like he didn’t grieve correctly, or maybe enough.”

“He grieved all right—me and some of the guys spent a week or two in and out of his place in the Village after Caroline died. I never saw a man cry so much. It was heartbreaking.”

Rico butt in, as he does. “Where were his kids?”

“They switched off every other day at first—there’s bad blood between the two sisters, you know?”

Of course he knew. It didn’t matter whether you were a vault or held a secret like a wet bar of soap—the whole town had their theories about the two sisters, who were quite close until one summer many, many years ago, when it all went south.

Eddie continued. “Shep was so put off by their behavior thathe threw them both out. He said, ‘If you can’t be here together, then don’t come at all.’ I think he thought it was an ultimatum, but it didn’t work. The older one is still too hurt and the younger one, too selfish.”

“He’s hoping that they’ll come in August,” Ben volunteered.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Joel grunted.

August was just a few weeks away. I hoped they would come too, and that I would still be here to see it.

Everyone thought that when Shep and Caroline built the big house across the street, the sisters would make up and enjoy it together—but they never visited in the same month, not even for a weekend. For sure, people thought losing Caroline would unite them, but they took care of all the arrangements, and their father, by text, with very little personal interaction. It was well known that this division in their family was the biggest disappointment in both Caroline’s and Shep’s lives. I had no doubt it contributed to whatever it was that Shep was feeling today. I knew firsthand that life’s wrongs stood a lot taller when you had little time left to right them—and he was not getting any younger.

My sister, Nora, and I were quite different, in looks and interests and even in our familial relationships, but I can’t imagine any of our differences ever coming between us like that. The story I heard about the Silver sisters was a very basic one involving a love triangle with a hot lifeguard who amounted to little more in life than becoming a not-hot lifeguard.

Shep struck out and returned to the bench, putting a hard stop to the conversation, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It always seemed to me like there must be more to the sister drama than I knew. Curiosity had definitely followed me to the afterlife.

We returned home from the game to a text message from my dad.

“Fuck,” Ben said when he read it. “We have to clean up.”

I didn’t even have to ask. I knew my family would be there in the morning.

Renee stopped in from across the street to see if she could coax Ben away from his old friend for a few hours to listen to live music. He used the excuse of straightening up for my parents, who would indeed be on the 10:00 a.m. boat.

“I’m in!” I shouted, excited for so many reasons, not least of which was that watching them straighten up was not pleasant.

She had already asked Pam and Andie, but they couldn’t get a sitter and Pam had read that loud drumming was bad for the baby’s auditory development. Renee even invited Matty, but he didn’t text back. While it wasn’t particularly unusual for a sixteen-year-old boy to ignore his mother—she knew it was more than that.

She went on her own, as far as she knew, and as we walked into the young crowd she took a deep breath of relief. She was clearly thankful to be solo. Things aren’t quite as embarrassing if there is no one there to bear witness. It was a concept I could relate to well, in my current state. I did a few moves of the Electric Slide and Cotton Eye Joe, just to prove the point.

Gabe saw her right away. His eyes widened as he stepped down from the stage, where he had been noodling around with some wires. I found him to be a little too hipster for my taste, with all of his woke introspection, but I understood the thrill of having him look at her the way he did. Especially after being tossed aside by Tuck, as she was. Her knees wobbled, and she pressed them together. I wondered if she was thinking about the scene in the shower. I would be. He kissed her gently on the lips—and she was immediately embarrassed by the public display of affection. She looked around the room to see if she knew anyone. She didn’t. He led her to a table up front with a small sign on it that readfor theband. A few people were already seated there, passing around a pitcher of margaritas. She was the only “girl” not wearing a crop top.

It had to feel beyond awkward sitting with a bunch of kids closer to Matty’s age than her own. She obviously felt it as she did the math under the table on her fingers. I did it too. Matty was fourteen years younger than Gabe and she was thirteen years older. If she told the truth about her age she won by a year.

The music began, and Renee seemed thankful that she didn’t need to make small talk. She followed the others’ lead and stood by the stage, moving her hips from side to side to the loud beat. She liked the noise, she always liked noise. It somehow made her think more clearly. She caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw a middle-aged woman standing in a flock of twentysomethings. She thought so clearly that she quietly made her way to the door.

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