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had a “bout of the misties.” That’s how she described crying. Like it wasn’t nothing more than a bit of weather. But it made me sad just to look at her. Sidetracked all my thoughts of hunting down her Irish friend.
    And the view from the kitchen made things worse. The room had more windows than walls and every single one of them looked out at that ripply blue lake. Gave me that tipsy, walking-a-rope-bridge kind of feeling, like the kitchen itself went out over the water. I inched to the wall and started pulling down the shades, so I didn’t have to look at it.
    Pep sighed, but started pulling shades from the other end of the room so I could join Mem at the table. Afraid my impromptu trip had upset her, I said, “You aren’t mad at me for going hiking, are you?”
    She touched my hand all kind, then slapped it.
“That’s for leaving without asking.” She sniffled. “But no, that’s not what’s given me the misties.”
    â€œJust in a family feud,” Pep said, pouring Mem a cup of tea.
    â€œRonan,” Mem warned as she dashed some salt into her tea.
    Too late, he’d already “spilled the milk” as it were. There was no putting it back in the bottle.
    â€œA feud with who?” I asked, slipping into my chair with thoughts on Rosien. Was she a relative? Even better. She’d know everything about Mem.
    Mem and Pep echoed each other, both saying, to my surprise, that Mem had a sister named Rosien.
    â€œYou have a sister?” I stood up. “You never told me!” Never told me she had one. Never told me this mystery aunt lived in New York. So that’s why we came to Plattsburgh. Maybe they’d had a feud, swore never to speak to each other again, but Mem wanted to patch things up. Maybe she wanted to ask Rosien to be my godmother!
    Mem looked as flustered as I felt. She spun her spoon so fast she spilled tea onto the table.
    Pep sat down between us, patting both of our hands, “Rosien’s a package.”
    â€œPackage” in Pep language meant you had to take
the good with the bad. A person with kindness in her soul, but darkness in what she did.
    What dark thing had she done that had made Mem cry? When she came to see me the night before, she didn’t sound so thrilled with me. Was I the reason they didn’t get on together? The idea made me feel like I had sand under my skin, all scratchy and wrong. “She doesn’t fancy me then?”
    Mem looked about ready to cry again, her hand even shook as she sipped her tea. I felt so bad for her, I wanted to cry, too. To get into her arms and hug her.
    Pep turned to me and leaned in close. “Rosien’s not one to fancy folks. And she got to prattling on about being meant to be a mother to the earth not to children. But not your mem, she’s wanted to be a mum from the moment I met her.”
    â€œOn the rocks of a bay so blue, it made her gray eyes glow.” I smiled as I repeated a line from the story Pep always told me of their meeting. Mem even chuckled.
    â€œThat’s right.” He looked over his shoulder at Mem. They smiled at each other.
    I got up to go to Mem. Putting my hands on her knees, I said, “But it’d be nice to have your sister around, right?” I’d always dreamed of having my own sister, someone I could hang out with. A person who
would understand my fears. Help me when they closed in around me.
    Mem nodded. “If she wasn’t enough to make me want to stuff her tail end with rocks and see her sink to the bottom.”
    Pep barked, “Mem.”
    Just the idea had me shivering. Most people could talk about drowning. Joke about it even. But not me. Just the thought of that choking water made me relive it. The wetness of it filling me, stretching my lungs, drowning out the air, and the black waves churning me around as I sank. Deeper and deeper with the pain of the fight for air crushing me. I backed into