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“Yes! Yes, of course. I’ll send you a link to the invite,” I said. “The dress code is California elegant. Whatever that means. And, again, not a word to my sister. It must be a surprise.”

Surprise was the key. Talia wasn’t thinking clearly and if Raj was a good fuck (ew), she might tell Spencer not to come and carry on this affair to its inevitable, catastrophic end. My sister found PBS irreparably repulsive, even when the animals were cute, and she’d never stomach a stink badger.

“Okay, I’ll let you know,” Spencer said and I hung up feeling confident. One down, one to go, in terms of getting grumpy, scorned men out to California. Unfortunately, Talia’s hotness only registered with one of them, and Ozzie would definitely be the tougher sell.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Ozzie

Ozzie wasn’t totally sure what he was doing here. He hated Connecticut, as a rule, but when he’d told Aunt Kathy the apartment was being shown all weekend and he planned to check in to a hotel—you gotta spend money to make money, ya feel?—she invited him to stay.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t really do Greenwich,” he’d said. She laughed and ordered him to get his ass over there.

Kathy’s house was two-story, painted white with green shutters. Very Connecticut on the outside, but inside it looked like a ’90s film set that’d been ravaged by raccoons. She was having trouble staying on top of things without a full staff and, honestly, same. Granted, he didn’t have three small children, plus an oafish stepson named Tug, but Ozzie felt proud of himself for holding it together, on the surface anyway.

“Welcome to the jungle,” Aunt Kathy said as he dropped his bag in the entryway and followed her down the hall. Ozzie didn’t remember her hair being so frizzy and all over the place, but maybe she just needed a blowout.

They walked deeper into the house.Geeeezthis place was a wreck. Ozzie tried to recall what Doug’s previous house looked like, the one he shared with his first wife and Tug. Ozzie didn’t want to judge. His aunt was going through some shit. But maybe not so many Uncrustables wrappers on the floor?

“How do you like the decor?” she asked, grinning over her shoulder. “Nothing like chintz and heavy, dusty drapes.”

He smiled wanly. “I could give you the name of my interior decorator. She could totes zhuzh it up on the cheap.”

Kathy chuckled. “You haven’t seen the Tuscan-inspired kitchen! Thanks for the offer, but my parents are nice enough to let us stay here while I get my shit together. I don’t think they’d appreciate coming back from Florida to find their place redone.”

Ozzie grimaced, once again furious at his inability to hang on to the smallest detail. Maybe he’d never known this was her parents’ house, but seriously, there were hints. For example, the giant portrait of a teenage Kathy, backlit and hands clasped together like she was being visited by angels.

“It’s a take-what-you-can-get scenario,” Aunt Kathy said, “especially since most people in both our families aren’t talking to us.”

Kathy paused outside a sunroom turned toy room, though who was she kidding? The toys were not confined to this space. Inside were three kids—two boys slouched in beanbags, tapping away on devices, and a little girl seated on the floor, sifting through items in a white-and-pink-striped box.

“Listen,” she said, turning toward Ozzie. “I don’t know what’s going on with your branch of the tree, and far be it from me to intervene in other people’s complicated relationships, but if you can change anything about the situation... you should try.”

“Nothing I can do,” Ozzie mumbled, glancing away.

Kathy smiled gently. “Whatever the case, you don’t want to be me. You don’t want to wake up one morning and find out your whole world has shrunk.” She rotated back toward the playroom and rapped three times on the warped, scuffed doorframe. “Hey, munchkins,” she said. “Please greet your cousin.”

“Hey, rock stars,” Ozzie said with a wave. Theircousin. It feltlike the wrong word. Cousins were supposed to be peers and these guys were like three feet tall.

“Would you mind if I ducked into my office?” Kathy said. “I need to finish something by noon.”

“But it’s Saturday?”

She shrugged. “Saturday, Monday, it’s all the same when you’re a freelance graphic designer. Now, I’m not asking you tobabysitthem or anything. But can you sort of... hang around? Alert me if someone throws up or appears to be actively dying?”

“Er, okay?” Ozzie said with a swallow. Keeping kids alive seemed like a tall order, especially for a dope like him. Did Kathy know what she was doing?

“Not to worry,” Kathy said, picking up on his angst. “They’re not total degenerates.” She squeezed his arm. “Promise.”

Exhaling, Ozzie assessed the room. He could probably handle the iPad bros, and the girl seemed busy with whatever was in the box, so maybe he could stand there and exist.

“My office is right down the hall if you need anything,” she said. “I’ll be back in five, ten minutes tops.”

As she darted away, Ozzie’s phone buzzed. Another text from Gabby. After a week of ignoring her, she was finally starting to receive the message, and the communications were slowing down. At least he wouldn’t have to block her, not yet. For now, he silenced the phone.

“Excuse me,” said the girl, tapping on his shoe. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes. “What’s your name again?” She pushed her wispy brown hair out of her face, reminding him so much of Gabby he almost burst into tears.

Ozzie cleared his throat. “Oscar,” he said.