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“We need to honor his memory.” Skye grabs the remote control. “With a movie marathon of his—well, not his, buttheRob Lowe’s finest works. Starting withThe Outsiders. Stay golden, Ponyboy!” She dissolves into sobs, burying her face in a pillow.
“This is ridiculous,” Luna sputters, clutching Skye’s robe around her. “Hayes.”
I look between Luna’s outraged face and Skye’s tear-streaked one, torn between relief and guilt. Except Luna so,sohas this coming. “Skye’s clearly very upset.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “She’s my ex-stepmom. I kind of have to help her.”
“Are youkiddingme?” Luna’s voice rises to a pitch that might shatter more glass.
“So kind.” Skye sniffles, patting the bed beside her. “Come, both of you. Rob would have wanted us to celebrate his life together. By watching 80s movies.”
I sit beside Skye on the bed, silently communicating my eternal gratitude with my eyes.
Luna remains standing, outrage radiating from every pore. “Icannotbelieve this is happening right now.”
“Grief hits us all differently,” I say, earning a subtle thumbs-up from Skye.
“Some of us need popcorn and Matt Dillon’s cheekbones to heal.” Skye presses play on the remote.
AsThe Outsidersbegins, Luna finally accepts defeat, perching on the very edge of the bed. Skye immediately launches into a running commentary on every scene, occasionally flinging popcorn at the screen during emotional moments.
“This is where I always cry.” Skye proceeds to sob while pelting Luna with popcorn during Johnny’s death scene.
Luna’s face contorts in a display of restrained fury as buttered kernels bounce off her robe.
“Oops,” Skye says without a hint of remorse. “My grief made me do it.”
By the timeThe Outsidersends, Luna’s annoyance has evolved into a silent rage. Skye, completely unfazed, immediately queues upSt. Elmo’s Fire.“Another classic from Rob Lowe—theRob Lowe,” she says. “My Rob Lowe used way too much tongue when kissing.”
“I think I need some water,” Luna grits out.
“I’ll get it.” I’m eager for any excuse to escape. In the small kitchenette, I take a moment to compose myself, close to breaking into hysterical laughter.
When I return, Skye has somehow convinced Luna to participate in a dramatic reenactment of a scene from the movie, with Skye playing Rob Lowe’s part with alarming enthusiasm.
“Now, Hayes, you be Ally Sheedy.” Skye pulls me into their impromptu performance.
“I’m not doing this,” Luna says.
“Grief therapy.” Skye grabs my hands and spins me in a dance move that nearly sends us both crashing into the coffee table.
The night stretches on, and Skye initiates a pillow fight that “Rob would have wanted,” accidentally knocking one of Luna’s hair extensions off in the process. Then she convinces me to help her build a “grief fort” out of every pillow and blanket in the suite.
By one a.m., Luna has finally passed out on a pile of pillows as far from Skye as the bed allows. I’m delirious, barely able to keep my eyes open when Skye leans over, whispering in my ear: “Meet me on the beach at six a.m. We need to talk about your little predicament.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you see what I’ve got for us tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I hope to hell she’s got a miracle up her sleeve.
33
A Keyless Lock
HAYES
It’s official. I’ve probably lost my mind, but as I stand at the edge of this picture-perfect clifftop in St. Sebastian, I’ve never felt more sane. The impromptu Lock & Key Ceremony setup—all white lattice and tropical flowers—looks like something out of a wedding magazine. The three remaining women will arrive any minute, and I’m about to blow this whole charade apart.
“This plan might backfire spectacularly,” Skye had said, burying her toes in the sand as the first hints of dawn painted the sky. “You know that, right?”