The Cousins

by Karen M. McManus

  At first, I couldn’t believe all the money was gone. But in the end, it very nearly was. Donald, Theresa, Fred Baxter, and Paula had lived high on the hog for twenty-four years, surrounding themselves with the kind of luxury I can’t even imagine. They took extravagant trips, bought priceless art and other collectibles that they didn’t bother to insure, and renovated the Story properties so extensively that even those mile-high hotel rates couldn’t keep up. Dr. Baxter’s gambling problem never went away, so he lost millions in Vegas every year. Donald Camden barely worked; he kept a shell of an office and a skeleton staff so he’d look respectable, and spent more on that every year than he came close to taking in.

  By the time the dust settled, the amount left over for Adam, Anders, Allison, and Archer to split was, relatively speaking, minuscule. “Just enough to pay for rehab,” Archer likes to say. But at least, since he’s been sober for five months, it was good rehab.

  Archer cares less than anyone about being broke. He’s back on Gull Cove Island, working for Rob Valentine, and he’s oddly serene about painting buildings that his family used to own. “Greed pulled this family apart,” he told Milly when we visited him over Veterans Day weekend. He looked good: clear-eyed and clean-shaven, if a little on the thin side. “And honestly, if there’d been anything of significance left at this point? It probably would’ve happened all over again. I don’t want to spend my life fighting with Adam and Anders over the family fortune, and I don’t want to see it warp you like it did us. And Donald, and Theresa, and the rest of that messed-up crew.”

  “Maybe,” Milly said grudgingly. “But still. It wasn’t their money to spend!”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Archer agreed. “Let’s look on the bright side, though. I don’t want it. I really don’t. I’m happier living a quiet life back home than I’ve been in years. Allison doesn’t need it. She’s built a fantastic career all on her own. Megan’s done the same, so Aubrey will be just fine. Not to mention all those swim scholarships heading her way. And as for Adam and Anders…” He permitted himself a small smile then. “They don’t deserve it.”

  Adam Story’s book fell off the bestseller list after two weeks. For a while, we were sure he’d be asked to write another, but the only story that people are interested in hearing from him is his own. And that’s the one he refuses to tell.

  Anders Story and his family still live in Providence, but JT and I don’t go to the same school anymore. He’s finishing his senior year at some charter school outside Newport. Long commute, but it has the benefit of being full of kids who don’t know him. Except by name. The Story scandal was a big deal on the East Coast for months, so he can’t escape it entirely. Anders is starting a new company, which I know nothing about other than what he shared with the Providence Journal last week.

  “Everything I’ve learned, everything I stand for, and everything I have, will be poured into this new venture,” he promised.

  My mother tossed the newspaper aside with a disgusted snort after she read that. “In other words: nothing,” she said.

  Theresa’s sister, Paula, is still at large. I have to admit, she’s the one who interests me the most—the dark horse of the group, always in the shadows, who had so little going on in her life when Mildred Story died that she could give it up to pose as Theresa. The media keeps trying to profile her, but there’s not much to go on. Twenty-four years ago, she was a fifty-year-old woman living in a suburb of New Hampshire and working for the electric company. Then one day she just—left. Quit her job, gave notice on her apartment, and said she was moving out of state. No one cared enough to ask why.

  I told Milly once that I thought that was sad. She glared at me. “Lest you forget, you’re talking about the woman who burned down Catmint House,” she said. “She could’ve killed Aubrey and Uncle Archer! Don’t you dare feel sorry for her.”

  “I don’t,” I said, and it’s true. I hate the idea of Paula sipping cocktails on some foreign beach as much as Milly does. It’s just…I can’t help but remember how hard it was to pretend to be someone else, even for a short time. Occasionally, I wonder how she pulled it off for as long as she did. And the same answer hits me every time: because there wasn’t a single person in the world, aside from the sister she agreed to impersonate, who would miss her.

  Okay, maybe I feel a weird pang of sympathy. But I’m sure as hell not telling Milly that. Because Milly—God. That I get to call her my girlfriend still feels like a miracle. We see one another as often as we can, and when we talk about what we’re going to do postgraduation, it’s always about how we’re going to wind up in the same city. Not whether.

  And who knows, maybe our trio will reunite. Aubrey was offered a swimming scholarship to Brown, which is incredible, but she was also offered several a lot closer to home. Milly’s making it her mission to lure Aubrey to the East Coast. Starting now.

  We settle ourselves on the same side of a booth behind the pool table area, and Milly props up her phone between us. Once she’s dialed Aubrey’s number, she pulls off her moto jacket to reveal the Brown University T-shirt we picked up this morning.

  Aubrey appears on screen, holding a tiny, squirming baby in the crook of one arm. “Hey, it’s Aedan,” I say, then do a double take when I get a good look at the kid’s face. The last time I saw him via FaceTime, he was a newborn. Now he’s two months old, and starting to resemble an actual person. One in particular, as it turns out. “Holy shit, Aubrey, he looks exactly like you.”

  She grins. “I know, right? It drives my father crazy, especially since he’s always insisted that I only have my mother’s genes.” She strokes the baby’s tufty blond hair with her free hand. “I guess there’s more than one way to look like a Story.”

  It shouldn’t have surprised me, Aubrey being Aubrey, that she fell in love with her half brother straightaway. It’s not like the mess he came out of was his fault. Still, it’s pretty cool of Aubrey to be as involved with him as she is, when she could’ve easily held a grudge.

  Milly crosses her arms over her chest, forgetting her T-shirt as she eyes Aedan warily. Babies make her nervous, even when viewed through a screen. “Is he going to cry?” she asks.

  “He never cries,” Aubrey reassures her. “He’s the happiest little guy.”

  Milly settles back in the booth, looking unconvinced but willing to give the baby the benefit of the doubt. “And how are his parents?” She spits out the last word like it tastes bad.

  “Well…” Aubrey jiggles Aedan meditatively. “Everyone says babies are hard on a relationship, right? Let’s just say, as easygoing as he is, this little guy has been especially hard. They’re not talking marriage anymore. Coach Matson got a new position a few towns over, but she really wants to stay home with Aedan. Dad, of course, refuses to get a job, and he’s already burned through the settlement money and his royalties. I think Coach Matson is finally starting to realize what she signed up for with him, and she is not happy.”

  Milly leans toward the screen, her baby trepidation entirely gone. “I’m gonna start calling you karma, buddy,” she coos. Aedan offers a toothless grin as Aubrey tries, unsuccessfully, to smother a laugh.

  “You’re terrible,” Aubrey says, then shifts her glance to me. “How’s business?”

  I give her a thumbs-up. “Better all the time.”

  She beams. “I can’t wait to visit. I’m so sorry I couldn’t this week. Our meet schedule is killing me right now. But spring break should definitely be doable. I want to go to Gull Cove and see Uncle Archer, too.”

  “Perfect,” Milly says, straightening her shoulders. “You’ll have accepted Brown’s offer by then, and as you can see”—she sweeps a hand across her chest—“I’m preparing my celebratory wardrobe.”

  Someone taps my shoulder, and I turn before I can see Aubrey’s reaction. “Postcard for you,” Enzo says, handing it to me.

  “Really?”
I ask, bemused. I never get mail. “Thanks.” The front of the postcard shows the New York City skyline, and I immediately think of Milly. I tug on a lock of her hair and ask, “Did you send me a postcard?”

  She swats me away, eyes on her phone. “Hold on a sec. I’m in recruiting mode.”

  I flip the postcard, scanning my name and Empire’s address. It’s not Milly’s neat, loopy handwriting. The words are all cramped together, reminding me of the note we got from Mildred when we first arrived on Gull Cove Island, telling us she’d been called away to Boston. Although I guess it was actually Theresa who wrote that. Or Paula.

  Holy hell. Paula. Dark horse Paula. The woman nobody would miss.

  All of the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I glance at Milly. She’s still deep in conversation with Aubrey, so I shift my eyes down and read the note.

  Jonah,

  I hear that you, Milly, and Aubrey are doing well, and I am glad. Truly.

  I bear you no ill will, and while I suppose it is fanciful to imagine that you and your “cousins” might reciprocate that sentiment, I hope it is the case.

  From one imposter to another, I’d like to give you some words of advice: keep your parents far away from Anders Story’s new venture. I have a strong suspicion that it will one day, as they say, go up in flames.

  Family first, always.

  P.

  Publishing is an industry full of change, but I’ve been fortunate to work with an incredible team for four books straight. I’m so grateful for the ongoing support, and to everyone who made The Cousins such a joy to create.

  Endless thanks to Rosemary Stimola and Allison Remcheck for your careful guidance of my career, and for always pushing me in the best ways possible. Thank you also to Pete Ryan, Erica Rand Silverman, and Allison Hellegers at Stimola Literary Studio.

  Thank you, Krista Marino, editor extraordinaire, for your uncanny ability to see directly into the heart of every book I write. After four books with you, I’m a much better writer, but one who still relies on your sharp eye, keen insight, and unflagging support to inspire me to dig deeper. I’m so proud of what we create together.

  The entire team at Random House Children’s Books and Delacorte Press is truly amazing, from the strong leadership to the thoughtful planning of marketing, publicity, design, production, sales, and more. Thank you to Barbara Marcus, Beverly Horowitz, and Judith Haut for giving my books the best home I could ask for, and to the team that brings them to life: Monica Jean, Kathy Dunn, Dominique Cimina, Kate Keating, Elizabeth Ward, Jules Kelly, Kelly McGauley, Jenn Inzetta, Adrienne Weintraub, Felicia Frazier, Becky Green, Enid Chaban, Kimberly Langus, Kerry Milliron, Colleen Fellingham, Heather Hughes, Alison Impey, Kenneth Crossland, Martha Rago, Tracy Heydweiller, Linda Palladino, and Denise DeGennaro. Thanks also to Kelly Gildea of Penguin Random House Audio & Listening Library for brilliant production of my audio books.

  I’m fortunate to work with many outstanding international publishers. Penguin UK has allowed me to meet and work with so many talented people, including Holly Harris, Francesca Dow, Ruth Knowles, Amanda Punter, Harriet Venn, Simon Armstrong, Gemma Rostill, Ben Hughes, and Kat Baker. This year I was able to visit more of my international publishers than ever before and I’m thankful for the hospitality of Christian Bach and Kaya Hoff of Carlsen Puls in Denmark; Nicola Bartels, Susanne Krebs, Birte Hecker, Julia Decker, and Verena Otto of Random House Germany; and Susanne Diependaal, Jessie Kuup, and Arienne Huisman of Van Goor in the Netherlands.

  I’m indebted to Jason Dravis, my tireless film agent, and to the agents who help my books find homes around the world: Clementine Gaisman and Alice Natali of Intercontinental Literary Agency, Bastian Schlueck and Friederike Belder at Thomas Schlueck Agency, and Charlotte Bodman at Rights People.

  Thanks to Erin Hahn and Meredith Ireland for your thoughtful feedback and your friendship, and to the wonderful YA community for all the energy and passion you bring to kidlit. I’m grateful for all of you, from the amazing authors I’ve had the good fortune to meet both online and in person, to the bloggers, educators, librarians, festival volunteers, and booksellers. And especially the readers, who make it all possible.

  The setting in The Cousins was inspired by the islands of Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, both of which I’ve visited many times as a child and an adult. I’m grateful for the hospitality I’ve always experienced there, and hope the residents don’t mind that I created a fictional sibling for your beautiful homes.

  Finally, thank you to my family, both Medailleu and McManus, for all your support. Lots of love to my son, Jack, and, in keeping with the theme of this book, to all of his cousins: James, Cassie, Mary, Nick, Michael, Max, Bri, Kelsey, Ian, Drew, Zachary, Aiden, Shalyn, Gabriela, Carolina, and Erik.

  Karen M. McManus earned her BA in English from the College of the Holy Cross and her MA in journalism from Northeastern University. She is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of One of Us Is Lying, Two Can Keep a Secret, One of Us Is Next, and The Cousins. Her work has been published in more than forty languages. To learn more about her, visit karenmcmanus.com or follow @writerkmc on Twitter and Instagram.

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