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The Island(7)

Author:Adrian McKinty

“Man, that is freaky. Seriously, are you looking out for the spiders? And did I warn you about those blue-ringed octopuses that kill you in ten seconds?”

“You did. Funnily enough, very few blue-ringed octopuses in the desert,” Heather said.

“Don’t blame me when they get ya. How’s the trophy husband?”

“He’s good.”

“I’ll bet he is! He’s a tall drink of water, that one. And how are the little monsters?” Carolyn asked.

“You shouldn’t call them that.”

“Ha! I knew you would get Stockholm syndrome sooner or later. Cough me an SOS in Morse code if he’s in earshot.”

“He’s not and everything is OK.”

“You’ll come and see me when you get back? Show me your photos, tell me everything?”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“The ferries—it’s complicated.”

“He doesn’t like you coming back here, does he?”

“You’re crazy.”

“It’s the drugs, isn’t it? He thinks we’re all degenerates. You should never have told him about our marijuana crops. And yet he gives his own kids so-called prescription drugs. They’re hypocrites, these doctors, and—”

“Oh my God, Carolyn, can we change the subject? How’s everyone at home? Tell me about the Sound. What’s the weather like there?” Heather interrupted.

“Let me go to the window. You can’t see shit. Fog and rain. Drizzle.”

“I dreamed it was snowing,” Heather said. “How’s Scotty?”

“He’s hanging in there. He came by to see me yesterday. Just nudged open the door and came in. I gave him a couple of pets and he fell asleep on the mat.”

“Seen my dad?”

“Yup. He’s good. Been out kayaking.”

“And my mom?” Heather asked.

“On her good days she just flicks paint at you as you go past.”

“And on her bad days?”

“She insists you come in and look at her art.”

“Oh, boy, I miss you guys. But I’m seeing stuff in the world now, you know?”

“Tell me! What’s Australia like?”

“It’s beautiful. Stark and red and gorgeous. And the people are super-friendly.”

“I’ve heard that. Look out for any random Hemsworths and pass on my number.”

“I will,” Heather said. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m great.”

“Writing any songs?” Heather asked.

“No. You?”

“No.”

Silence down the line. A little bit of tension creeping into the static.

“You know I’m real happy for you, honey…” Carolyn said.

“I’m sensing a but coming.”

“But, man, when you left, you said you wanted to be a singer or an actress. You said you wanted to soar—”

“And now I’m just a boring housewife crashed to earth in a tangled mess of wax and feathers,” Heather said.

“See? You had talent. That’s a lyric right there. Who knows where you could have gone? New York? Hollywood?”

Heather yawned. “I better go, I gotta take the kids to the beach in a bit.”

“God, he really has you where he wants you, doesn’t he? Twenty-four-hour live-in nanny with benefits and he doesn’t have to pay you a dime.”

“That’s not the way it is,” Heather said.

“Isn’t it? Be honest with me, girl. I won’t report you to the Mommy Gestapo.”

Heather sighed. “Well, it’s been a tough week. A tough year, in fact…it’s—”

“Spoiled rich kids, right?”

“No, look, it’s me, I guess. I was never an aunt, and you know babysitting was never my thing. No one tells you how mean they can be. I love Tom and I’m so grateful for everything he’s done for me, but it’s just…exhausting sometimes.”

“Of course it is. Even with good kids.”

“They’re not terrible and I feel bad for them…their mom—”

“You gotta protect yourself, honey! It’s about you and your life. Don’t end up like the first wife, drunk and dead at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Carolyn! You know that’s bullshit. Judith had MS, balance problems—”

“Just teasing. I’ll swap lives for a bit, even with the shitty kids, if you think he’d go for a feisty redhead.”

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