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novels. I don’t bother with the yoga because that sounds dull, so I grab the leather-bound one because it’s in French.
    The Story of O . I wonder what that’s about? I don’t recall Mom reading the trashy novels with half-naked men beside the old book. Maybe they were Lulu’s at one time. That wouldn’t surprise me.
    Just glancing over them, my cheeks catch fire. When Henri took off my clothes, I made him turn off the lights. When I asked the doctors, they told me I had body image issues or maybe I feared being sexually exploited. I don’t believe either is my issue.
    The leather on the book is worn down so that it’s smooth to the touch. I shove it into my beach bag along with a towel and an apple I took from the fridge.
    “Do you need anything, Lulu?”
    She glances up from the TV. “Oh, I have a joke for you.”
    I half consider pulling my lobes over my ears. “Okay.”
    “What’s the difference between an ‘ew’ and an ‘ah?’”
    I shrug, half humoring her, half not wanting to hear.
    “About six inches.” She lets out a loud laugh.
    I cringe, noticing Mama’s vase at the edge of my vision. Where is she? Dad and I never saw her in Paris where he said she had gone.
    Lulu and I have barely spoken about her, and it’s probably because no one wished to upset me. No one ever talked to me about Dare either, even Kami.
    “Lulu?” Nervousness tingles my fingertips. If I want to get better…
    “Yes, sugar.”
    “Why did she leave?” I ask the other question that has always bothered me. Until Paris, I always fretted bringing her up would disturb my fragile psyche. “Where are the rest of your children?” I don’t really know my aunt and uncle, and I know even less about Mama, though I should know a great deal about her.
    She stares down into a glass of iced tea parked by the couch. “I think she had to. She wanted to stay with you.” Lulu peers up at me, cataracts whitening one of her eyes. Her hand clasps mine. “She loves you very much, Teal. Don’t you worry about that.”
    But do I love her? A tear swims in my eye, seeking escape. “Then why didn’t she stay?”
    Her gaze lands on the picture window overlooking the sea. She closes her eyes and breathes in the ocean breeze. “They were all wild. All my children. Lyle, he’s up in New York bartending.”
    I’ve only met Mama’s older siblings a couple times, Lyle and Lilly. Her son calls rarely and flits between Miami and Manhattan to work the tourist seasons. Lilly never calls unless she wants money.
    “Lilly.” Lulu sighs heavily. “She’s more of a free-spirit than your mom. Always restless, could never sit still. No telling where she ran off to.
    “All of them are gifted.” She sighs. “They must’ve gotten that from me.” She winks both eyes. “Your mother can sculpt and paint, Lyle can too, and Lilly dreamt of being a painter in Paris. They all fought, gave my first husband and me a helluva time. Lynn and Lilly were the worst though—boys, clothing, shoes—always scrapping over every little thing. Lyle had to pull them apart once. They would’ve clawed each other’s eyes out.”
    When my stomach tightens, my hand flies up to rub the tension loose.
    “You should run along with your friend Kami. Sweet girl. Since I’ve moved back in, she’s checked on me a couple times a day and asks about you often.”
    She helped Lulu, causing the guilt to take another chunk out of me. “Just holler if you need me, I’ll be out back on the beach.”
    Lulu waves at me, returning her gaze to the couple in an amorous embrace. “You go have fun.”
    Outside, the lawn chairs are stacked against the pool house, so I pick one up and sling the strap over one shoulder.
    Past the dunes and beach grasses, Kami lazes in a chair under an umbrella, a John Green trade paperback splayed beside her. I plop my chair beside hers.
    She yawns, pulls up her shades, and rolls onto her side. “Unh unh. There is no way I will hang out with you in