The worst one was when I dreamed I was a steak—yes, a steak, a T-bone to be exact—sitting on a white plate with a bunch of campers hunched over me with knives and forks. Natalie said it came from feeling vulnerable without my dad, but as horrible as that dream was, it can’t compare with the nightmare of having Sabrina, Blaine, and Madeline here at the same time.“Well, there’s what’s-his-name, Brent? Blake? Booger?” Ivy says, even though she knows perfectly well what his name is.“Blaine. Can you believe he had the nerve to show up?”We both glance at him sitting at a picnic table beside Mona Owens, oblivious to the fact that he no longer belongs here. Ivy hollers at a kid for riding his bike on the sidewalk and then says, “Well, unfortunately, toots, there’s no law keeping him from coming here. But I never did like that turd of a boy.”I almost choke on my own spit. “Ivy! You can’t say that.”“Why, is there a rule that old people are supposed to like all kids?”
