Lucky downed the water, then narrowed her pale eyes at Avery.
“How come Chiti didn’t come with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“How come your wife is not here?” Lucky intoned slowly.
Avery blew a strand of hair out of her face. The apartment was stifling. Why hadn’t anyone turned on the air conditioner?
“It was all so last-minute. She has her patients, you know. She can’t just pick up and leave.”
“That makes sense,” said Bonnie. “Tell her we miss her?”
Lucky was staring at her with a weirdly intense expression. Could she know? But how? Avery thought. She needed to turn the conversation to anything but Chiti.
“And I’m going to look into what’s actually happening with the apartment sale.”
“Maybe they should sell this place,” Lucky said suddenly. “Move on, you know.”
“You don’t mean that,” said Avery.
“Why hold on to the past? Who cares.”
“Nihilism is a luxury of youth,” said Avery. “Trust me, you’ll care once it’s gone.”
“Look, we don’t need your help,” said Lucky. “We’ve been getting on fine here without you.”
“Oh yeah?” Avery put her hands on her hips. “How’s going through Nicky’s stuff going?”
Bonnie and Lucky exchanged a guilty look.
“You haven’t started yet,” said Avery flatly.
“We’ve had…other things to take care of,” murmured Bonnie.
“What things?” asked Avery. “Is your training schedule already that intense?”
“I’m actually taking a little break from training,” said Bonnie.
Avery frowned.
“Already?”
“We’ve just been doing other things,” said Lucky.
“Staying out all night getting drunk with your friends does not count as things, Lucky.”
Avery regretted saying it the moment the words left her mouth. What had she just been telling herself about her high horse? She was a scold, and no one welcomed a scold to the party.
“I’m not doing that,” snapped Lucky.
“She’s not doing that,” confirmed Bonnie.
Avery looked from sister to sister.
“Why not? What’s going on?”
Bonnie looked at Lucky for permission to speak.
“Seriously, guys,” said Avery, feeling increasingly disconcerted by this new dynamic. Lucky opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to change her mind. She gave Bonnie a warning look.
“It’s nothing,” she said eventually. “I’ve just been jet-lagged. Let me take a shower and then we’ll look at Nicky’s shit.”
“Nice,” said Avery. “Very respectful.”
Lucky was already heading out of the room.
“She was our sister, not a saint,” she said over her shoulder. “Her shit is still her shit, Avery.”
—
Before getting started, Avery suggested the three of them head out and grab breakfast; she knew she was procrastinating, but she couldn’t face Nicky’s belongings on an empty stomach, and she wanted to do something to get on a better footing with Lucky before they opened the Pandora’s box of their sister’s life. They were walking back from the bodega, juggling their egg-and-cheese-on-a-rolls and coffees in the familiar Greek paper cups when Lucky stopped and gasped. She grabbed Bonnie’s arm and pointed across the street.
“Holy shit,” she cried. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
They looked across Eighty-ninth Street, to where a pink Smeg fridge was standing placidly on the sidewalk, as though waiting for a friend. The streak of cotton candy pink against the gray pavement reminded Avery of a dove someone had dyed pink and set loose amid the sooty pigeons of Trafalgar Square during her first weeks in London. It was a surprisingly beautiful sight.
“Wow,” said Bonnie. “That’s nice.”