Page 44 of The Summer Show
“Yeah.”
“What a bitch.”
I didn’t have it in me to argue, not when it was the truth. “How bad was it?”
“She came charging over with her phone in hand, waving it at us like it was a gun. Dad kicked her ass out. Are you really on a reality TV show now?”
“It’s more of a game show, and if I can last until the final episode, I’ll make thirty thousand bucks. If I win, it’s a million.”
My sister whistled. “No wonder the wicked witch wants in. I bet she’s seeing this as a way to boost her social media clout.”
“Yeah, I got that, too. She wants us to do mother-daughter interviews, and she told me I have to insist that I got the job because of her anytime someone asks.”
“The lion, the witch, and the audacity of that bitch.”
I laughed. “Our female parental unit has never been short on audacity.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. She’s there and I’m here. By the time the show is on the air, I’ll be back at work. If anyone wants to interview me they’ll have to get on a plane.”
“They do all that virtually now. You won’t have to leave your library.”
“Ye gods, what if Mommy Dearest shows at up the school?”
We steeped in silent horror at the idea of our mother showing up to Bush Lake Elementary for her closeup. I’d have to ask our office manager to be on the lookout for desperate attention seekers.
“What if she flies to Greece?” Brit says.
“She wouldn’t.”
“She would and we both know it. She’s probably doing a FundMyFantasy right now.”
“Please. Don’t even joke about it.”
“I’m deadly serious.”
“What do I do?”
“Change your name,” my sister said. “Vanish. Adopt a mysterious accent and a new hair color.”
“Or …?”
“Just say the word and I’ll push her down the steps.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“For you and for all of humanity. Nobody needs to be subjected to more of Susan Hart.”
“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite sister?”
Laughter burbled out of her. A thin shard of homesickness burrowed into my chest. What was I doing here, a million miles from home? I was supposed to be having a fun vacation, but was I?
I think I was. At least I was until Mom cast her stink net over everything good.
“Don’t dwell on her,” Brit said, cutting into my overthinking. “And most importantly, don’t let her ruin your vacation or your time on this show. She’s done, do you hear me? She doesn’t get to ruin anything for either of us ever again.”
I wanted to believe her, but history had a funny way of repeating itself, especially when that history was our mother.