‘She’s not a grandma, you stupid egg!’ Sulin shouted at the radio, and then she burst into tears because if it was Joy’s body, she would never get to be one.
chapter forty-four
Last October
Logan was the first to arrive for the ‘family meeting’ called by their father to discuss Savannah. He could see Brooke’s car pulling up behind him in his rear-vision mirror.
‘We all need to be on the same page,’ Stan had said on the phone, when he called just as Logan was leaving Dave’s apartment, full of good pizza and information. His dad had sounded upset, but he was also clearly in resolute crisis mode. The Man of the House was going to fix this. （How did one develop Man of the House confidence? Did it just arrive automatically with fatherhood?）
Logan waited for Brooke to get out of the car, which she did with uncharacteristic haste. ‘Savannah didn’t just come here randomly,’ she said, slamming her door behind her.
‘I know,’ said Logan. ‘I was just at her ex-boyfriend’s apartment. She’s got some tennis connection.’
‘You were? You talked to the boyfriend? What did you find out?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. She was speaking in a rapid, ragged fashion. She sounded like Amy. ‘This is all so strange. When Dad called I’d literally just had this memory, I was looking at these bananas that Ines – but anyway, what about Troy? He believed Dad would make a move on Savannah! That’s so disgusting. She’s younger than me.’
They walked towards their parents’ front door. Logan could hear Caro from across the street pulling her bins out.
‘She probably made it sound believable,’ said Logan. He wasn’t going to bother giving Troy a hard time about falling for Savannah’s story.
Brooke knocked on the door while Logan turned back to look over his shoulder. ‘Do you think I should go offer to help Caro with her –’
‘Stop this, stop this, stop this!’
They both startled. It was their father’s voice, raised in a kind of terrified fury that Logan wasn’t sure he’d heard before.
Brooke had her key out of her bag first. She opened the front door with swift efficiency, shouting to their parents, ‘Mum! Dad!’
‘In here!’ called Joy from Amy’s old bedroom.
By the time Logan and Brooke crowded into the bedroom the yelling had stopped and no-one was saying a word.
Logan’s father and Savannah stood opposite each other, his mother in the middle of them: her classic position of stopping an argument between two siblings. She had one hand on Stan’s chest, the other on Savannah’s shoulder. Logan’s dad was breathing rapidly and furiously as if he’d just lost a long rally, while their mother had that look of controlled impatience she used to get when her children fought and she didn’t have time to properly lose her temper because she had things to do.
Only Savannah looked serene. A mildly amused smile twitched her lips. She stepped away from Joy and ran her hands down her arms, pulling her sleeves smooth.
‘Look who’s here,’ she said. ‘Are you all expecting dinner? I think we can stretch it.’
‘What’s going on?’ said Brooke.
‘Yes, what is going on?’ It was Troy, who had sauntered in through the front door they’d left open. He looked like a cocktail party guest, not a scam victim. Maybe Logan would give him a hard time after all.
‘She’s Harry Haddad’s sister,’ said Stan.
There was a pause as they all took that in.
‘I didn’t know there was a sister,’ said Logan blankly.
‘Wait, was there a sister?’ asked Brooke.
‘It’s a lie,’ scoffed Troy. ‘It’s just another lie.’
‘We’re pretty sure it’s true, but you’re right, it’s hard to see for the lies.’ Logan’s dad plonked himself down on Amy’s old bed.
‘Maybe we should all go into the living room and sit down,’ said Joy. ‘Talk this out.’
Savannah said, ‘I could heat up some –’
‘Enough!’ shouted Joy. Logan’s mother was a stick of dynamite with a very long fuse, but then all of a sudden, kaboom. ‘You can’t make these terrible accusations and then suddenly cook for us. What’s wrong with you? You’re lying! You know you’re lying! And if you hate us so much, why do you keep feeding us? I don’t understand why you’re doing it!’ Her arms windmilled. She stamped her foot. Her children all took automatic steps backward. ‘Why? We don’t even remember you!’