Edgewater by Courtney Sheinmel Read Free Book Online Page B

flapper dress, low-waisted, with fringe on the bottom. Behind her, the radio was plugged back in, and I could just make out her favorite oldies station coming in through the static.
    â€œDarling girl!” she exclaimed, and she swooped toward me, arms wide open.
    I ducked out of her embrace. “I just came from Idlewild Fidelity. They said all our accounts are in the red.”
    â€œMmm-hmm.” A L’Eggo My Eggo waffle popped up in the toaster, and Gigi turned back to grab it with her bare hands. “Ouch, ouch.” She dropped it straight onto the counter—no plate.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I asked.
    â€œHow am I supposed to know the ins and outs of how they conduct business at that bank—if they keep accounts in the red or in the green or in the mauve? That’s their business.”
    â€œAccording to them, it means we don’t have any money.”
    â€œIt’s nothing for you to worry about,” she said, bending down to adjust the strap on one of her shoes. “Worrying is pointless. Worrying is negative goal setting.”
    â€œGive me a break,” I said. Gigi barely lifted her head. “Look at me,” I demanded.
    When she looked up, she lifted a foot to show off a five-inch heel, as delicate as a Cinderella slipper, crystal-detailed, with a black patent-leather strap. “What do you think?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t care about your goddamn shoe,” I told her.
    â€œThis isn’t a shoe,” she said. “It’s a Louboutin.” She drawled the word out as only Gigi could:
Lou-bouuuu-tahhhhn.
    But I knew the brand from its trademark red sole, and I knew that a pair of them cost upward of a thousand dollars.
    â€œI got them for my party,” she said.
    â€œWhat party?”
    â€œMy birthday party, of course.” She shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe I was so dense. “You only turn forty-two once, and I’m planning a big celebration. It’d be a shame to limp around my own party because I didn’t have the forethought to break in my new shoes. Though sometimes shoes don’t break in no matter how hard you try. I could write a book about it—
When Bad Shoes Happen to Good People.
I have a feeling this strap will be a problem. A design flaw I’d never—”
    I cut her off. “Do you even hear yourself when you speak?”
    â€œI’m an excellent designer,” Gigi said with a bit of indignation. “I used to design all my own clothes. You were just too young to remember.”
    â€œJim Traylor at Idlewild Fidelity said there isn’t a trust at all,” I told her. “Design your way out of that.”
    â€œThe trust isn’t at Idlewild Fidelity anymore,” Gigi said. “I moved it.”
    â€œYou
moved
it? Why?”
    â€œIt’s not good to stay in one place,” said the woman who barely left the house anymore.
    â€œSo, where is it?”
    â€œEnough of the twenty questions,” Gigi said. “What I do with the money is not your concern.”
    â€œIt’s the very definition of my concern,” I said. “Susannah’s, too. Mom set up the trust for us.”
    â€œI had plans of my own, you know. I put everything on hold to raise you girls, and you just keep hitting me up with your demands.”
    â€œMy demands?”
    â€œBoarding school, a horse,” she said.
    â€œThat’s what Mom’s money was for. I’d like to use some of it to at least get my horse home.”
    My voice cracked at the last bit, but Gigi didn’t take notice. “And I was never good enough for you,” she went on. “And the house was never clean enough.”
    It was a choice between screaming and crying, and I picked screaming. “Because the house is filled with junk and filth! How can you stand it?”
    I reached out and yanked the radio cord from the wall again, so hard that the radio shook and sent