Upstander James Preller (best finance books of all time .txt) 📖

told him everything about what had been going on with Jonny, dating back a couple of years. The car accident—he claimed he got sideswiped in a hit-and-run—taking pills, quitting sports, his depression-slash-rehab stint at Western Winds, and so much more. But mostly, she talked about missing her brother. How that felt. Griffin was kind and sympathetic and a good listener.

Mary held her hands together in front of her chest, as if she were carrying a small bird that had fallen out of a nest. “When I was little, he used to come into my bedroom and read picture books to me. Or he’d make up his own stories—about brave frogs and a moose named Bruce!” She laughed at the memory. “I’d fall asleep listening to him. And every day he’d sing to me, ‘Mary, Mary, quite contrary. How does your garden grow?’”

“Wait, I know that one!” Griff held up a hand. He closed his eyes and haltingly said, “With silver bells and something-something smells … and the cow jumped over the moon?”

“Kind of like that, yeah,” Mary said. The place was thinning out. The workers were wiping things down, the music had been turned up, a guy in a paper hat pulled out a mop. “I should really get home.”

Outside Roberta’s, which was tucked into a strip mall, Griffin said, “You should take my bike.”

“What about you?” Mary asked.

“Ah, no worries,” Griff said. “I actually don’t live far from here, and you are, like, pfff,” he waved a hand, “way out by … I don’t even know.”

“Magnolia Street,” Mary said. “Not far from the middle school.”

“See?” Griff said. “It makes sense. You take my bike. I’m good to walk. Seriously.”

“I could just call home and get picked up,” Mary offered.

Griff frowned. “Yeah, don’t do that. It’s better to be independent. Otherwise it’s like you owe them something. Just take the bike, that way I know you’re safe,” he reasoned. “But you have to promise me something.”

Mary waited. “And what’s that?”

“You have to text me when you get home. Otherwise I’ll worry myself into a tizzy.” He flashed that infectious smile again.

“A tizzy, huh?” Mary smiled back. They took out their phones and traded contact info. She lifted a leg over the bike frame, preparing to leave. It was a little taller than she would have liked, but Mary was sure she could manage.

“Hey, Mary,” Griff said, grabbing onto the handlebars. “He’s going to be okay.”

Mary tightened her lips, wishing she could believe it. “Thank you. I mean it. You came along at the perfect time. And you were … really kind.” Maybe because she felt vulnerable and off-balance, Mary felt an impulse to lean in and give Griff a quick peck on the lips. He had such nice, full lips. It would have been such a bold move, and totally unlike her, but that was how she felt in that moment. There was something going on between them.

It was exciting, pedaling home, to think about something positive for a change. In this case, a very not-bad-looking boy who could be extremely sweet when he wanted to be.

12[excluded]

“They’re here, I’m leaving for the beach now!” Mary shouted upstairs. She waited a beat, heard no reply. No surprise. It was an uneasy feeling, though, this acute awareness that her mother wasn’t paying attention. Mary didn’t know what to do about it, if anything. Maybe it was a good thing. Part of growing up. Freedom, not neglect. Besides, her mom could always text later if she needed details.

Mary climbed into the backseat of Mrs. Brown’s blue Lexus. Chrissie slid over to make room. The air inside was immediately cool. Alexis sat in the front passenger seat. “Mom, you’ve met Mary, remember?”

Mrs. Brown turned to flash Mary a bright smile. “Of course, the birthday party, am I right?”

“Yep, that’s me! I was the one who ate six red velvet cupcakes, I think,” Mary joked. “I love your sunglasses, Mrs. Brown. Very fashion forward!” And it was true. Mary truly did like Mrs. Brown’s sleek, dark sunglasses. Mrs. Brown had one of those faces Mary saw in magazines: sharp cheekbones, flawless skin, perfect nose—even a football helmet would have looked stylish on that head. Mary prided herself on good manners with parents. Complimenting Mrs. Brown’s sunglasses was simply part of Mary’s “manners-plus” policy.

“Hi, Chrissie. I love that top. It matches your eyes,” Mary said. That was another thing good friends do. They compliment each other. “Are we picking up Chantel?” Mary asked.

Chrissie glanced at Alexis. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Not today!” Alexis chirped, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Chrissie snickered.

Mary could tell there was something swimming beneath the surface. A shark in these waters. She glanced at Mrs. Brown, who didn’t seem to be listening. “Did something happen?”

“Let’s just say, she’s not included anymore,” Alexis said. “We’ll leave it at that.”

Chrissie nodded in agreement.

“But—” Mary began.

“No one is telling you what to do, Mary,” Chrissie said. There was something rough in her tone, though for dissonance she placed a warm hand on Mary’s forearm. “You can be friends with whomever you want. It’s just … Alexis and I are not happy with Chantel. So whatever. We can talk about it later.” The way Chrissie leaned into those words—you can be friends with whomever you want—caused Mary’s heartbeat to accelerate. There was something going on. Mary didn’t want their summer friendship to slip away.

For the rest of the ride, zipping down Wantagh Parkway to Jones Beach, Mary played with her seat’s individual climate-zone controls and pondered the Chantel situation. Could a person be in at one moment, and then out the very next? It sure seemed like it. Mary wondered what Chantel had done wrong. It must have been pretty bad.

Mrs. Brown pulled into the Field Four parking lot. It was clear that she was one of those highly organized Beach Moms. She popped the trunk and out came a cart with two fat wheels, filled with towels and brightly colored bags and beach chairs. “Grab that cooler, will you,