“Oh, man,” Carson whispers, and she actually kind of smiles. “Mom would love that.”
She would love it, Leo thinks. When his parents split, the Field and Oar Club membership went to Leo’s dad, and the board of governors decided not to let Vivi rejoin on her own. When Willa and Rip got married at the club, Vivi had pretended like everything was just fine but right before the dancing started, Leo’s girlfriend, Marissa, reported that she’d seen Vivi crying in the ladies’ room.
“I wish she knew it,” Willa says. “I wish we could tell her.”
“She knows,” Savannah says. “I’m not sure about you guys, but I feel her here.”
Leo takes in the room—the fireplace that Vivi had repointed, the new hearth, the bookshelves built on the diagonal that Vivi insisted on because she’d seen them on Kelly Wearstler’s Instagram feed, the giant clock made from salvaged barn boards, the turquoise tweed midcentury sofa that they all called the Girv. This room reflected Vivi’s eclectic taste—as did every room on the first floor of Money Pit. She hadn’t renovated the upstairs yet; she was waiting for “an unexpected windfall.” She’d died without ever getting the walk-in closet of her dreams.
Leo loves Savannah and he’s glad she’s here but he can’t stay awake another second.
“I have to go upstairs,” he says. “I have to sleep. My head is pounding.”
“You drank Mom’s tequila,” Carson says.
“You go to bed, Bear,” Savannah says to Leo as she gives him a squeeze. “Frankly, I could use a shot of Vivi’s tequila. I wonder where she hid it.”
Leo climbs the stairs feeling eighty years old instead of eighteen. His mother is dead. That feels like a big nut he’s expected to swallow even though it’s physically impossible.
His bedroom is dark with just an outline of fire pink around his window shade. The sun is going down. His mother woke up today. Today was the last day she was ever alive.
He reaches for his phone, and wow—there are a lot of messages. He suspects most of them are from Marissa.
Leo broke up with Marissa Lopresti, his girlfriend of nearly two years, last night during a bonfire at Fortieth Pole. Most of the just-graduated senior class was there and although it wasn’t a graduation party per se—those had ended a couple of weeks earlier—it still had a nostalgic feel to it, like, We only have so long before we go our separate ways and things will never be the same so we’d better enjoy this now.
Leo was having a beer a few yards away from the lip of the firepit and talking to Cruz. Because Dartmouth was on the quarter system, Cruz would have a week free in November when he could come out to Boulder and they could ski Loveland Pass.
Marissa had overheard the conversation. “I can’t believe you’re making plans with Cruz and not me,” she said. Then she smirked at Cruz. “Black people don’t even ski.”
Cruz had laughed the comment off. “This one does.”
Leo finished his beer and crumpled the can. He was sick of Marissa’s jealousy and her insecurity and the casually racist remarks she tossed at Cruz.
He said to Marissa, “Apologize to the man, please.”
“I was joking,” Marissa said, and she hugged Cruz. “He knows I’m joking. I obviously realize that Cruz skis. He went with you to Stowe last year.”
“Then why say it?” Leo asked.
“It’s cool, bruh,” Cruz said. He held up his palms. “I’m impossible to offend, Marissa. I thought you’d learned that.”
But Leo couldn’t shake it off this time. “Marissa, come with me for a second.” Leo led Marissa down the beach away from the raging fire and the bass line of Lil Uzi Vert, and she reached for his hand, maybe thinking he wanted to fool around in the dunes. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, and once they were at the waterline, well out of earshot of everyone, he said—simply, so there could be no misunderstanding—“I want to break up.”
She laughed. “What? Because of that? He knew I was kidding, Leo.”
“I’m tired of your jabs and your cute little comments. It’s like you can’t help yourself, you have to find a way to throw shade at Cruz.”
“He hogs your attention, you have to admit—”
“He’s my best friend. I’ve known him way longer than I’ve known you.” Leo shook his head. “But that’s not the point. The point is I think we’ll both be happier if we spend the summer apart and then go our own ways without any emotional entanglements.”