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  “I said we’re getting married!”

  Why was she still talking? Saying they were dating was ridiculous; saying they were engaged was worse. So, of course, Selena kept going. She raised her face, and in her strongest voice said, “She’s Ruth’s niece, and she loves me. I’ve bought my dress. She’s going to wear a tux. We’re having it at the Aviary, and you can’t come because she’ll kick your ass.”

  At least Selena followed through with her bad choices. Go big or go home. If she was going to fuck up, she was going to fuck all the way up.

  Chapter 4

  Cade checked her phone as she walked to her hotel room. Her friend Josiah had texted.

  Don’t want to do this to you but…He’d sent a picture of a delicate piece of glasswork.

  Josiah bought art for rich people who wanted art without the hassle of choosing it themselves. Cade was a gallery manager. It was a symbiotic relationship, but they had a friendly competition going to see who could discover the next unknown genius.

  Below the picture he’d texted, Seriously. How are you?

  Cade had booked her room and her parents’ room on the opposite sides of the hotel. The smell of marijuana wafting out of her room told her she had not put enough space between them. A piece of hotel art—a painfully clichéd oceanscape—hung in the hall by the door. She texted it to Josiah. Like this. She considered walking away and booking a room across town, but she needed her laptops. She had two, one for work and one for personal business, except work always bled into personal, and her personal life was basically working on the weekends. She ought to dump one, but that felt like defeat. Better to lug around a heavy briefcase than admit work was her whole life and it always would be. She pushed the door open.

  Her parents were sitting on her bed. On the other bed sat an old woman with wild, gray curls and a couple about Cade’s age.

  “Cadence!” her mother exclaimed, as though seeing Cade was a delightful surprise.

  “How did you get in my room?” Cade hadn’t even told them her room number. “And why are you in my room?”

  “The hotel manager didn’t understand that tonight is Bacchanalia,” her father said, “the night of fauns and centaurs.”

  Fuck the Bacchanalia.

  “Who let you in?”

  “We just explained that we’d lost our keycards. Our name is on the reservation,” her mother said, “so they made us up some new ones. So kind. The young fellow at the desk didn’t know that…” Cade’s mother fluttered her fingers.

  “That you got kicked out of your room?” Cade said.

  “The neighbors complained.” Her father waved his joint. “Edibles are practical, but tonight calls for the rush of fire.”

  “And now they’ll kick us out of mine,” Cade said.

  “Ruth’s soul hovers over us,” her father said.

  Cade couldn’t imagine Ruth’s soul hanging out at the Extended Stay Deluxe Motel. Portland was full of boutique hotels that were probably haunted by interesting ghosts. The Extended Stay Deluxe was probably haunted by the souls of alcoholic salesmen, but it was cheap.

  “Ruth will protect us,” Cade’s father added.

  “From getting kicked out of my hotel room for smoking pot? Why didn’t she protect you from getting kicked out of your own hotel room?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll head out soon,” her father said.

  “This is Calendria. We met at the funeral,” Cade’s mother clarified. To the couple she said, “And darlings, tell me your names again?”

  The couple didn’t seem to mind that they were smoking pot with people who did not know their names.

  “Forest.” The man pressed his palm to his chest.

  “Maple,” the woman said.

  “Maple! Of course, the tree of sweetness,” Cade’s mother exclaimed. To her new friends Cade’s mother said, “This is my daughter. My Athena. My jewel. Cadence, sit down. We were just talking to Calendria about raising alpacas. I think we should get some.”

  “Where will you put them?”

  Why was Cade entertaining this conversation?

  “We could stable them upstate,” her father said. “Or maybe keep them in the gallery.”

  “No.”

  “Cade’s so responsible,” her mother said. “She’s the only real adult in our family. We think she was switched at birth.” Cade’s mother winked at Calendria. “She’s actually the daughter of accountants, but we’ll keep her. She’s ours now.”

  “Alpacas have soft feet,” her father said.

  “Lions have soft feet.” Cade’s voice rose.

  “You could walk them,” her mother added.

  Cade ran her hands through her hair, looking around for her laptops. Hopefully they weren’t sitting under a bong.

  “I will not walk anything.”

  “And, Cade, honey,” her mother said, as though Cade hadn’t spoken, “don’t worry about the room. Calendria has invited us to her houseboat. We’re going to dance on water under the stars and make garlands of river grass.”

  Calendria and the young couple nodded.

  “The waters are sacred,” Calendria said.

  “Before I forget.” Her father reached into the pocket of his tweed coat. “Here’s the key to Ruth’s house. The lawyer said there are some papers there you should pick up for tomorrow. Life is so burdened with paperwork.”

  Someone had written the address on the keychain—because that was a good idea. Cade grabbed her laptops off the table and picked up her suitcase. She never unpacked when she stayed at hotels.

  “Do not get arrested,” she said. “I will see you tomorrow.”

  If you’re not tied up in river grass.

  “We’re releasing lanterns at dawn,” her mother said.

  “Goodbye,” Cade said wearily. “Have fun.”

  She hurried until she was out of the building and away from the marijuana smoke. Then she slowed and stopped. She set down her suitcase and looked up at the sky. It wasn’t raining for the first time since she’d landed in Portland. The low clouds looked muddy with city light.

  She didn’t want to go to Calendria’s houseboat and weave river grass, but just for once, it would have been nice to be asked.

  Honey, would you like to dance under the stars on a houseboat? It just wouldn’t be the same without you.

  Thanks, Mom. I thought you’d just want to be with your interesting friends.

  No one is as interesting as you, Cadence. We don’t really think you’re so boring you must have been switched at birth.

  She sighed. Taxes and accounts payable. That’s what she was good for.

  A few minutes later Cade got out of her Uber. Ruth’s house was on a wide street with large, old houses set deep in their lots. Vines shrouded Ruth’s porch. Everything was dark except for a little cottage on the property directly behind Ruth’s house. Cade rattled the key in the lock, pushed open the door, and fumbled for the light.

  Then she gasped. Ruth’s ghost wasn’t at a boutique hotel. It was here.

  A painting of Ruth hung on the other side of the living room. She was topless, although only her shoulders showed in the painting. Her head was tilted back in laughter. The painting radiated joy. Cade dropped her suitcase and crossed the room. The brushwork was amazing. Oil. She could almost feel the warmth of her aunt’s skin. She checked for the artist’s signature, but the name had been scraped off.

  “Wow,” Cade said out loud.

  The work was amazing. She would have to ask Ruth’s friends for the name of the painter. Forget online portal submissions. She’d show this work at the Elgin Gallery. The painting could be at the center of an exhibit dedicated to her aunt.

  She texted a picture to Josiah.

  It’s oil, Cade texted.

  It’s all right, Josiah texted, which meant he was jealous.

  Cade smiled and texted a close-up of the brushwork. Then she looked around. Her smile faded. The painting was the only bright spot in the room. The rest of the space was
sad. Wads of tissue, pill bottles, and junk mail covered everything. Cade lifted up a catalog featuring a woman in a bondage chair (Of course. This was her family. Aunt Ruth couldn’t get old-lady clothing catalogs) to find a desiccated lasagna.

  Her phone vibrated in her coat pocket. Her best friend, Amy.

  How was it?

  It was my family.

  I love your family.

  You can have them.

  You okay?

  Was she? Cade didn’t even know. Her parents were annoying. Nothing new. She’d had to arrange for the cremation and mausoleum (not that Ruth was going there), call the lawyer, get the hotel, buy the airline tickets. Her mother had offered to help, but her parents would have booked a Cessna and burned Ruth’s body on the river.

  Tired, Cade texted.

  Want to talk?

  Tomorrow?

  I’m here if you need me.

  Cade returned a heart emoji.

  It took Cade an hour and a half to find the paperwork she thought her father might be talking about. In a spare room full of crafting supplies, she found a file cabinet. The drawers held yarn. A basket on top held folders bulging with papers. The labels were descriptive but not helpful. Death stuff. Life stuff. House Stuff. Throw away when I die. (That one contained the title to a car.) Things for Friends. Bills. A true Elgin filing system. Cade gathered everything up and put it with her suitcase by the front door.

  She should find another hotel. There was something creepy about sleeping in her dead aunt’s house. What if Ruth had lovers who came in and were shocked to find her there? She wandered over to the TV. For once, she didn’t have the energy to be proactive. She’d stay there. She turned on the TV. A naked woman lay on a large bed receiving cunnilingus. Cade tried to change the channel. Nope. She pressed the remote harder. Still nope. She knelt down in front of the TV console. A DVD was stuck on play. She pressed stop and then eject, but neither worked.

  Of course.

  The woman moaned in ecstasy. Cade turned the TV off. She did not feel like watching porn in her dead aunt’s house. That left one thing, the thing she always had energy for: a good, hard workout.

  She got shorts and a tank top out of her suitcase and changed in the bathroom. The house was too cluttered to work out in, but there was a patio in the backyard. She switched on the outdoor light, stretched briefly, and started in with burpees.

  Fifty burpees.

  Fifty squats.

  A hundred high-five crunches.

  Nothing made her feel free and relaxed like exercise. She’d learned that when she’d joined the Boston University crew team. Pulling against the current, listening for the coxswain’s calls, there’d been no room for thought.

  It was just her, the air in her lungs, the strain in her abs, and…

  Two muddy bare feet.

  Standing in front of her.

  One of Ruth’s lovers? Pissed that a stranger was doing ab work in the backyard? Cade jumped to her feet, an apology on her lips. I’m sorry. I’m her niece.

  Words died on her lips when she saw the person in front of her: Selena, in a short, cream-colored robe as thin as moonlight. It fell off one shoulder. The robe barely covered the top of her thigh. She’d released her hair from its messy knot, and it spilled around her shoulders in a tangle of black curls. She’d been unreasonably pretty at the funeral. Now she was breathtaking…and unexplainably wearing a robe and holding a towel and bottle of shampoo in Ruth’s yard. Of course, Cade was doing high-five crunches in Ruth’s yard, so she didn’t really get to complain. But how was Selena here?

  Cade gaped. Selena looked mildly surprised.

  “What are you doing?” Selena asked.

  “X-Caliber Cardio Core Bodyweight Training.”

  “I’m going to take a shower in the house,” Selena said.

  They looked at each other, and both gave a little laugh at the same moment.

  “Okay,” Cade said.

  “I live in the in-law apartment.” Selena nodded toward the cottage at the back of the lot. “But it doesn’t have a shower or a kitchen, so Ruth and I shared the house.”

  That’s right. Cade had forgotten. Ruth had mentioned something about a tenant, an artist Ruth had met somewhere.

  Cade wiped the sweat off her face. “I was supposed to pick up some papers. I felt like getting a workout in. I’ll go.”

  “Stay.” Selena looked at the house behind Cade, a faraway look in her eyes. “It’s your house now. And your parents’.”

  “Unless Ruth willed it to bulldog rescue or something like that.”

  “She liked finches,” Selena said. “I’m sorry about the casseroles. I know I should have cleaned up, but I’m not good at cleaning. You have to find places for things, and…it’s just so sad in there.” She pulled her robe back onto her shoulder, shivering. “Thanks for sitting with us at the reception. I’m guessing the funeral wasn’t what you wanted.”

  “It was a little extra.” Cade stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts, found an old receipt, and looked at it like it mattered that she had bought a $2.95 coffee at Marco’s Bakery. It felt wrong to look at Selena in her moonlight robe. Selena hadn’t meant to be seen by anyone…except maybe the neighbors on both sides. “But it’s my family. I’m used to it. At least no one brought an alpaca. My parents want to buy one.”

  “Alpacas are nice. They have soft feet,” Selena said with gentle optimism.

  “How does everyone know that?”

  “I was a farm girl. Well, not a farm girl, but a crap-trailer-on-a-whole-bunch-of-rangeland girl.” For a second Selena looked shy. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  “It doesn’t sound bad,” Cade said. It sounded like a version of normal; maybe not her version but someone’s version. “My parents are probably falling off a houseboat by now. I’ll take the trailer.”

  “Alpacas are only about a hundred and twenty pounds,” Selena offered. “I could almost pick one up.” Selena cocked her head. “You could pick one up. I like a girl who can pick up an alpaca.”

  The compliment glowed in Cade’s heart. She worked out every day. She was proud of her body. She could pick up an alpaca. No one appreciated that about her. The only thing women appreciated about her was her parents. Maybe in Portland she was sexy. But…no. Selena was kidding. Cade made that mistake sometimes, mistaking a joke for a compliment. Mistaking a compliment for flirtation. It’d be nice if a woman occasionally looked at her and saw more than a tax consultant and their chance to give an elevator speech. Cade settled her face into a look of mild amusement.

  “Is there a dropdown menu for that on OkCupid?” Cade asked.

  “Maybe on Craigslist.” Selena laughed.

  Cade wasn’t sure what to say next. Enjoy your shower? Selena shivered harder, wrapping her arms around herself. The smile faded from her face. She didn’t make a move to leave.

  “We’d have been serious if that’s what Ruth wanted,” Selena said, “but she said throw a party. She said death would be a wonderful adventure. She said, Don’t you dare be sad. But I am sad.”

  A spatter of rain hit them, then burst, like the sky was thinking, Oh, shit. It’s Oregon. I forgot I was supposed to rain forever. The wind kicked up. A violent shiver shook Selena’s body.

  “You should go in.” Cade wished she had a jacket to wrap around Selena. “It’s cold.”

  Selena clutched her towel and her shampoo to her chest.

  “And that means I don’t believe her, doesn’t it? If I cry it means I don’t think death is a wonderful adventure. I loved her.” Selena’s voice broke. “Love her. Why does it get past tense so fast?”

  If Cade had been at the gallery dealing with a crying artist—they weren’t a rare occurrence—she would have taken them in hand with calm, measured compassion. It’s going to be all right. I’ll get you a sparkling water. But this beautiful woman who dressed like a hot Instagram influencer and recited the Bible was crying because she’d lost a friend who was like a mother to her. Sparkli
ng water didn’t fix that.

  “English grammar can be difficult.” Not helpful. Not consoling. Cade kicked herself. Why didn’t she have a nice poem memorized?

  “I was always good at grammar in school.” Selena wiped at her eyes.

  “I just meant…” Cade stumbled over her words. “…is the past tense attached to the love or to the person? The person is past but the love isn’t.”

  “But you can’t fix it.” A tear streaked silently down Selena’s cheek. “Once they’re dead, you can never say the sentence right, but I’m not going to cry.” And with that, she started to cry. “I can’t. If I cry, she’s really gone.”

  “It’s okay to cry,” Cade said. Selena’s tears made tears well up in her own eyes. She reached out and touched Selena’s arm gently. “It really is. Ruth went on a wonderful adventure without you. You get to be sad.”

  Chapter 5

  Rain hit Selena’s back. Tears burned her eyes. She was freezing. She knew the right thing to do was go inside. Shower. Go to bed. Take up meditating. Write a résumé. Do not sleep on Becket’s couch for six months. Do not throw yourself at Cade. But the wrong choices were so much more attractive than the right ones. Cade touched Selena’s arm, her fingertips warm on Selena’s skin. That was all it took. Selena fell against Cade. Cade took a surprised step backward, but her arms closed around Selena nonetheless.

  It felt so good. Cade’s body was soft and muscular at the same time and warm like life itself. And between Selena’s robe and Cade’s exercise outfit, there wasn’t a lot of clothing. And, oh, the feeling of skin on skin. It comforted Selena even though she knew what happened when she slept with people: either she picked Alex or she picked all of Portland.

  I’m not sleeping with her. She was just standing in the rain with this beautiful woman’s arms around her and their skin touching and her whole body melting into Cade’s. Not sleeping. Nothing like it.

  “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be self-actualized.” Selena tried not to sniffle the words. “I’m supposed to be happy for Ruth and her new adventure.”