Rita turned at the sound of footsteps behind her. Her siblings were wading into the restaurant抯 remains with varying degrees of caution. Aaron followed behind Peggy, giving her a quick poke in the ribs then pretending he hadn抰 done it when she whelped. Where Rita and Belmont had quiet understanding, Aaron and Peggy梩he two youngest梞ade merry when together. They weren抰 necessarily close, but they liked one another and had developed a way to show it without sliding into dreaded emotional territory. They made it look so effortless.
What must that be like?
Aaron抯 usually smirking mouth moved into a grim line. 揑t抯 safe to say rebuilding is off the table.?
Belmont drew even with Rita, kicking aside some splintered wood to pick up the Bonjour! sign. 揓ust tell me what you want. I抣l tell you if it抯 possible to save it.?
揜ight,?Rita said quietly. 揟his is what you do, salvage man.?
揌mph.?
揜emember when I got the job working for Senator Boggs? Mom threw that cocktail party and invited three of my ex-girlfriends, who quickly figured out there抎 been some relationship overlap.?Aaron crouched down and tugged a wedged picture of Miriam standing in the French countryside from beneath a charred produce crate. 揝he laughed as I ran out the door.?
揥e were all laughing,?Rita corrected, moving toward the remains of Wayfare抯 former world-class kitchen.
揟hanks.?Aaron抯 response was drier than dust as he set the photograph back down, his movements brisk. Dismissive. 揝he called me later that night and said, 慣here抯 your first lesson in politics, son. Everyone you抳e fucked over shows up at the same party sooner or later.?She was right.?
Rita stopped beside a stainless-steel oven range, kicking it with the toe of her boot. Barely having spoken to her siblings in the last year, opening up to them took a fair bit of effort. But something about the funeral-esque feel of the burned-down restaurant erased that no-contact year for just a moment, bringing them back to a time when conversation came more easily. When they were still uncomfortable with one another but at least they were accustomed to it. And since someone else arranged time together梟amely Miriam梩hey were saved from appearing to have made an effort, because God forbid, right? 揑， um, I made my first osso buco on this big boy,?she said, nodding at the oven range. 揑t came out like shoe leather. Mom ate the whole thing, chewing every bite while the crew watched. And then she said, 慣hank God that sucked. If you抎 gotten osso buco right the very first time, I would抳e had to step down as head chef. And I like being the main bitch too much.?Then she took a shot of bourbon and rattled off that night抯 specials.?
While I stood there like a naked teenager on the first day of school.
Never again.
揙oh. My turn.?Holding Aaron抯 shoulder for balance, Peggy stepped up onto an overturned steel refrigerator and spun in a pirouette. 揂fter I broke my engagement to Harry, I didn抰 want to leave my apartment卍idn抰 want to work. Nothing. But Mom picked me up and brought me to Wayfare.?Another ballerina-like move that had Aaron reaching without looking to steady her. 揝he sat me down in the dining room?at the center table in front of everyone梐nd gave me a skillet full of cherry clafoutis with a lit candle stuck in the center. She said, 慣here. Now it抯 a real pity party.?I went back to work the next day.?
A wind blew through Wayfare抯 ruins, swirling ashes around Rita抯 boots. Despite the distance between them, having her brothers and sister there was providing actual comfort. But that comfort turned to thorns with Aaron抯 next question.
揥hat will you do, Rita??
Her mother抯 journal had turned to stone in her back pocket, creating a heavy downward pull. The Clarksons were not a family of oversharers. In fact, they weren抰 even sharers, which is why she hadn抰 yet told them about the journal Miriam had left for her to find. Their individual problems梐nd they each had plenty to boast about梬ere their own. While Miriam had occasionally broken through those walls to make a point, she抎 been just as comfortable with her children being solitary entities. Dysfunctional islands that occasionally passed in the night. Her illness had knocked them all on their collective asses, because it was fact that the Clarkson siblings loved the shit out of their mother, but they抎 never talked about it. Never grieved as a unit. As far as Rita was concerned梐nd she suspected she wasn抰 alone梩hat suited her just fine.
But with the journal came responsibility. Her siblings deserved to know about Miriam抯 final wish. A wish Rita was now determined to see through. Perhaps she was grasping at any excuse to leave California and her numerous fuckups behind, but the promise of a new beginning sounded better than melting butter. No more cooking. No more failing. She could finally indulge that secret fantasy of going back to school for anything but working in a kitchen. If Miriam抯 journal gave her the excuse she needed, she would thank her mother and take it. Without or without her siblings in tow.
揑抦 going to New York. The way she wanted. You抮e welcome to come with me, but I won抰 fault you for saying no. Just卙ere.?Rita slid the brown moleskin book from her jeans and held it out to Belmont. 揃el, can I borrow the Suburban? Sort of卛ndefinitely??
Rita waited for her older brother抯 stilted nod before she turned and left them with the journal. She sat in her car, pretending to organize a pile of old mix CDs, watching as her family took turns passing around Miriam抯 penned thoughts, reading the first entry she抎 marked. Although she couldn抰 hear them, Rita could vibe Aaron抯 incredulity, Peggy抯 nervous follow-up questions, and Belmont抯 silent, tangible gravity, his unawareness that the other two watched and waited, hoping he would weigh in verbally. It took them only ten minutes to approach the car looking like some kind of mobile intervention.
Aaron rapped on the window until Rita rolled it down. 揕ook, it抯 just not happening. Next year is an election year and campaign season is critical. I don抰 have time to fly to New York and dive into the goddamn ocean.?
Peggy chewed on her thumbnail. 揟hey just promoted me at the store. I抦 up for manager next and Christmas is our busiest season. They抎 ax me for sure.?
Belmont stayed quiet.
Rita was unsurprised by their reactions. If you抎 asked her two days ago if a trip to New York was on the agenda, she might have sighed over the far-fetched fantasy of such a notion but scoffed nonetheless. Just then, however, looking out over the charred remains of her career, guilt a smoky cloud around her shoulders, she couldn抰 remember a time when taking off wasn抰 part of the plan. If it were feasible to begin driving that morning, she would have done it without wasting a second.
Rita gathered her hair on top of her head and let it drop, addressing Aaron抯 statement first. 揧ou know I don抰 fly. I抦 driving.?
Aaron cocked an eyebrow. 揧ou抮e actually going. On this weirdly specific mission to catch hypothermia.?
揕ooks that way,?Rita answered, cranking the car抯 air conditioner. Their scrutiny was making her hot, and San Diego抯 elevated climate in late November allowed her to get away with the nervous action. Her heart was thumping in her chest, her decision cementing itself. Pride wouldn抰 let her change her mind now that she抎 said it out loud, in front of her brothers and sister.
Rita hid her inward flinch when Aaron and Peggy sailed off toward Aaron抯 Mercedes, muttering to one another, Peggy throwing him the occasional shove. Belmont stood in the middle of the street, head down, but clearly halfway to bailing. Fine. She抎 been without them for a long time. She certainly didn抰 need them or their stupendous neuroses now. Add the dysfunctional Clarkson clan to the list of things she would gladly leave behind when she hit the road.