Oona Out of Order by Margarita Montimore

Author:Margarita Montimore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flatiron Books

An initial gasp of delight was swept away with a frown as Oona reread the message.

The cryptic note contained no address besides hers and no clues beyond the Thai postmark. What did it mean? Why was Kenzie sad and lonely, and why did he need to be thousands of miles away? Hopefully, they’d cross paths again soon.

In the meantime, she still had Madeleine, who called when she returned from her cruise in mid-January.

“I want to repaint some of the rooms in my apartment. Will you come help me?”

No warm greeting, no niceties. Oona had expected a more conciliatory tone. Unable to keep the sulk out of her voice, she said, “That’s the first thing you ask? Not—oh, I don’t know—how is married-to-a-stranger life treating you?”

“I imagined we’d cover that while we paint.”

Goody. We can also cover why you’re never around when I need you most. “Why don’t you just hire a professional?”

“Because doing the work yourself can be more satisfying. When I look around at my newly painted walls, the result of my labor—or our labor, depending—I’ll enjoy my home that much more. If I hire painters, I might take these walls for granted.”

“Will your boyfriend be there?”

“Nathan and I broke up.”

“In the middle of your vacation?”

“I’d rather not discuss that. Now if you can’t help me—”

“No, I will. Just tell me when and where. Are you still in Bensonhurst?”

“Bay Ridge. I’ll text you the address. Wear clothes you don’t care about.”

“You got it. Hey, I got a postcard from Kenzie. Do you remember him?”

A pause. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Really? You never met him? I never mentioned him?”

“Oona, I have no idea who you’re talking about, and I’m sorry, but I really need to get started here.”

Was the recent breakup causing her mother to sound so tightly wound? Or was there something more? She’d have to find out in person.

An hour later, Oona arrived at her mother’s penthouse apartment. It had a sunken living room, a wide balcony with a view of the Verrazano Bridge, and seemingly endless white walls.

There was something stiff in the way Madeleine hugged her. Reluctant. Her face held no clues: Botox treatments had left it smooth and inscrutable.

“I thought we could start in the bedroom.” Her mother led the way, the word Juicy bedazzled across the rear end of her pink tracksuit. “When we were in St. Kitts, I discovered this charming antique store decorated in the most divine colors. It brought the whole space to life and inspired me to add more vibrant color to this place.”

In the bedroom, the furniture had been pushed to the center of the room and draped in drop cloths. Madeleine held up two paint swatches. “First, we’ll do a base coat in teal. Once that’s dry, we’ll add a sponge effect with the magenta.”

Taking a lap of the huge room, Oona said, “Mom, your ceilings are, like, twelve feet high. This could take days.”

“Maybe you have something more important you need to do?” A sharpness to her breezy lilt.

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