Mitchell said, “Valentina told us to call the dryer repairman, and you didn’t do it.”
“You didn’t do it either.” Claire spied Erin sneaking in the back door. “We’ll get to you in a minute.”
“We discussed it, you put it in your calendar, and it didn’t happen.” Mitchell said to Erin: “And because Valentina is responsible to the nth degree—and has been for the last eight years—she washed all our laundry. She returned to her house for laundry line and clothespins and hung everything outside to dry.”
“My panties are on the line out there,” Claire said.
“So bring your panties in,” Erin said.
Claire crossed her arms. “They’re not dry yet.”
Mitchell sat at the long kitchen table with his open briefcase and a plate of carnitas, one of Valentina’s best dishes. As usual, he ate left-handed with his legal pad pushed far to the right to thwart drips of salsa otherwise destined for his casework.
He squeezed lime juice onto his carnitas. “Would you have preferred she not do the wash?”
“You are insufferable. Let’s focus on the other mess.” Claire turned to her daughter. “Why the hell are you half-naked all over the Internet this morning?”
Erin steeled herself. “I got drunk.”
“That is obvious, to me and everyone else with a phone.”
“Let me explain.”
“This could jeopardize your whole future, Erin,” Claire said. “Everything we have worked so hard for.”
“No one tagged me in the video,” Erin said.
“Yet.”
“Well, let’s lay it all on the line, Mom. I was drinking last night—”
“At a party, which was supposed to be a sleepover with one friend.”
“Not my fault,” Erin said.
“Lalitha just accidentally invited a few hundred friends to the sleepover? And just happened to have alcohol?”
Go big or go home. Erin blurted, “I’m off the swim team.”
Mitchell said, “They can’t kick you off without a formal hearing. We’ll fix it. Public drunkenness isn’t the only logical cause of this.”
Erin bit her lip to stave off tears as she told them (nearly) everything.
“The Quigleys?” her dad asked.
“Yes. They moved here from L.A.”
“They swim fly,” Mitchell said.
“Yeah.”
“At Nationals.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, shit,” Claire said. She walked fast circles around the island, her stare vacillating between ceiling and floor, repeating the phrase, “Shit, shit, shit.” Pace, pace. “We’ll get you into a second orchestra.” Pace, pace. “I’ll demand Principal Drouin add more college courses to your schedule next year. We will find something unique that will make Columbia want you.”
“I know we will,” Erin said. “Look, that’s why I was drinking. That’s why I was upset. You’re having a shitty day. This is my third one in a row. With bonus birthday goodness. I would really, really feel better if I could have my present now.”
Mitchell and Claire exchanged a glance.
Mitchell said, “The limo and restaurant are already booked. We have the concert tickets.”
Claire pursed her lips. “Fine. You can go, but only because we already shelled out the money. And because Ben should not be punished for your bad decisions. When you get home tonight, you’re grounded.”
“I know,” Erin said.
“Three months!” Claire said.
She didn’t protest. Her grounding wouldn’t last; it never did. In a few days, her parents would tire of hauling her around. She could wait it out.
“‘Thank you for letting us go tonight, Mom,’” Claire said expectantly.
“Thanks,” Erin said. She waited a beat. “Um, when I said present, I was talking about the other one. Grandma Tea’s ring?”
Claire pursed her lips again.
“Mom?”
“We agreed the date in the city would be your present.”
Erin tried to regulate her breathing. “Right, yes. But the ring was from Grandma Tea. And Grampa. For my seventeenth birthday. They promised it for years. Even after she died, that was the plan. Grampa promised me again last year.”
Claire said, “When your Grampa died, the ring became mine.”
“Are you kidding me with this?” Erin looked at Mitchell, who was suddenly very interested in his carnitas. “Dad, you can’t let her do this.”
He wiped his hands on his chinos. “Legally, the ring is your mother’s.”
Erin’s voice quivered. “Don’t lawyer me on this! I know I made a mistake. I told you why I was drinking.”
“Erin, your father and I agreed after your Grampa died that I would be keeping the ring.”
Grandma Tea had been Erin’s favorite person and, for a time, her best friend. They understood each other in ways no one else did. When Tea died, it broke Erin’s heart, but she’d held onto the knowledge that a tiny piece of Tea would come back to her when she turned seventeen. “You’ve known you weren’t giving it to me for four months and didn’t tell me?”
“There was never a good time.”
Erin screamed, “I cannot believe you!”
“Don’t do anything to jeopardize your actual present,” Claire warned.
Erin was largely unsuccessful at stemming the flow of tears.
“It’s not even your style,” Erin said.
Claire crossed her arms. “It isn’t, but I might wear it sometime, and people will like to hear I am sentimental about my late mother’s jewelry.”
“I would wear it every day. I miss Grandma Tea every. Single. Day.” Anxiety bubbled in her stomach and tears filled her eyes. “I need to go see Lalitha.”
“Grounded,” Claire said. “Three months. Let’s hope that’s long enough to plug the new gap in your résumé.”
TWENTY-SIX
True to his word, Hamish served a delicious dessert. Pavlova was a very light meringue cake with fresh fruit garnishing its crusted top. Felicity praised Hamish and Pippa’s work before devouring a second slice.
Erin offered birthday wishes one last time before she climbed into Jade’s car for the party.
Clad in her new white leather pants and a camisole under a black sweater, Erin listened to a nervous Jade talk about who would be there. Erin preferred to hang outside of parties and people watch; her wallflower routine would be even easier here, where almost no one knew her.
When they emerged from the car, Jade stood before Erin and smiled broadly. “Do I look carefree?”
“Having known you all of five days, I think you are carefree. I’m not sure you can
