The Note

“Now that they were strolling down memory lane, May had somehow managed to pivot from Kelsey’s lighthearted reference to getting busted for drinking, to the name of the girl whose death had changed everything that final summer at Wildwood.”

The underlying ominous tone that Burke has been hinting at now arrives full-force in this passage as nostalgic conversations veer into more dangerous territory. Although the friends’ relationship initially seems lighthearted, Burke uses this shift to foreshadow the fact that the weekend is about to take a much more treacherous turn. By mentioning a mystery that binds the three together, Burke suggests that much of their friendship relies on secrets and shared trauma.

“A simple little note—but the potential for so much damage.”

This reference to a “note” deliberately invokes the novel’s title to create a teasing example of a red herring and to draw attention to the idea that even inconsequential acts and objects can carry a more serious weight. However, this particular note is not the one that becomes the novel’s inciting incident.

“What got into you? As if an invasive entity had taken over her brain, voice, and body, because it was so unthinkable that May might lose her temper, or make a mistake, or lash out in a moment of rage.”

As this passage suggests, May is hypersensitive to criticism, especially in the wake of the fallout that arose from the subway platform scandal. She knows that those around her may always be watching her for indications of misbehavior, and she constantly feels the pressure of paranoia due to the threat of being under surveillance.

“She became the latest example of what she learned the internet called a Milkshake Duck—a person lauded online for some admirable characteristic who turns out to be horrible.”

In this scene, May thoughtfully considers the fact that her new notoriety has given her an undesirable online persona. Burke also uses the moment to deliver an “explainer” that introduces the concept of the “Milkshake Duck,” a slang term that is derived from an internet meme. This approach ensures that the term is fully understood, given its centrality to the passage in question. As May considers the complications her past, her thoughts reveal that she often falls prey to harmful spirals of self-criticism and over-analysis that exacerbate her anxiety.

“The guy with the hilarious Twitter thread about a piece of shrimp in his cereal gets called out for being an abuser. The ‘hot cop’ who went viral while helping storm victims resigns when his anti-Semitic Facebook posts are discovered. The camper who jumped into the rapids to rescue a drowning dog is revealed to be a deadbeat dad.”

In a further explanation of the internet meme and its underlying significance, Burke uses parallelism to convey similar examples of Milkshake Ducks, showing the various ways in which the internet has popularized this phenomenon. Burke therefore suggests that in this lightning-quick online world, the antithetical positions of “they are wholesome” and “they deserve to be cancelled” frequently seem to be imbricated, suggesting that anything that is apparently wholesome also has the potential to be terrible.

“May thought of the meme itself as a duck/rabbit, that famously ambiguous image that can be seen as either a duck or a rabbit. The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein used it to describe two kinds of ‘seeing.’ From one perspective, the Milkshake Duck was a misanthropic trope: Don’t meet your heroes, as they say. Even the delightful duck might be awful, because you can’t vouch for anyone in this world.”

While considering the label that her own scandal has imposed upon her, May evaluates the idea that digital culture perpetuates a sense of pessimism. From this perspective, she notes that anything that is placed under a spotlight has the potential to immediately prove itself unworthy of attention or admiration, and she notes that false worship always leads to a sense of disappointment. By extension, she is also lamenting her own public fall from grace and criticizing the idea that a single perceived misstep can bring down an otherwise well-crafted public persona.

“The entire subway incident, all things considered, was behind her. But it wouldn’t remain that way—not if it all happened again, this time because she couldn’t leave a man alone for stealing a parking spot.”

As May finds herself confronted with the awkward situation that ensues when David Smith steals the women’s parking space, her immediate consideration of the subway scandal reflects The Impact of Personal History on Identity, and it is clear that this one bad experience still carries weight and affects her present decisions. In this moment, she decides not to make the same mistake twice, but she ironically fails to recognize that her stubborn need to insert herself into other people’s lives is what continues to get her into trouble.

“Apparently, if something really bad happens in an idyllic place, all eyes move to the person who’s not quite like the others.”

The bitter tone of this passage reflects Lauren’s awareness that the institutional forces of racism have perpetuated her marginalization despite her many talents and accomplishments. Burke also makes it clear that Lauren’s past is haunted by similar incidents; after Marnie’s drowning, for example, the administrators used Lauren as a scapegoat, firing her and then claiming to worried parents that this type of accident would never happen again.

“Even so, the anonymous note slipped in the middle of the night beneath the door to the administrative offices seemed out of character. She would have predicted that Marnie, always vying for popularity she never managed to find, would use her newfound secret as currency among the other counselors and campers.”

As Lauren considers the circumstances leading up to Marnie’s death, she finds herself bothered by the inconsistencies in her current assumptions as to what really happened. Because she has always been well-acquainted with her charges at Wildwood, she finds the discretion of Marnie’s apparent act to be uncharacteristic of the girl’s gossip-focused nature. Significantly, Lauren’s suspicions foreshadow the unraveling of yet another secret that will tear her friendships apart.

“But when faced with the choice of being locked alone in her studio apartment for the foreseeable future or hunkering down with Josh, May made the move, with the engagement to follow.”

As May’s reflections reveal, the COVID pandemic represents a watershed moment for her. Faced with the choice between risk and stability, she opts for the stable choice. In the present moment of the text, May reflects that her departure from Big Law into academia neatly parallels her quick-moving relationship; both represent a shift from uncertain to safe.

“Apparently her shrink thought May had something like a female version of the Madonna-Whore complex, dividing potential partners into two camps—the fun ones and the ‘good’ ones. It sounded like a lot of psychobabble bullshit to Lauren.”

At one point in their friendship, May and Kelsey shared many details about their romantic relationships. In this passage, May shares an anecdote that reflects her typical binary processing, making it clear that she divides all potential options about life decisions into the clear-cut categories of “stable” and “unstable.” However, when Lauren contemptuously dismisses the conclusions of May’s therapist as “psychobabble bullshit,” it is clear that although she often remains a bystander to her friends’ moments of drama, she nonetheless holds strong opinions.

“She had always been the kind of person who, once she made a friend—a real friend—was a friend for life. Found family, is how she thought of it. As good, if not better, than blood. As different as she was from her family of origin, she still loved them unconditionally, even if they didn’t understand the choices she had made since she started out on her journey as a young teenager.”

May, Lauren, and Kelsey all refer to each other as “found family,” recognizing that there are elements of understanding in their relationships that cannot be reciprocated by their biological families. Lauren reflects that she is fortunate to have these connections since she has fostered friendships with people who share her drive and passion for music.

“But she also recognized that May was in sore need of a bad-influence friend like Kelsey. May helped Kelsey make better decisions and to be a little more aware of her privilege, while Kelsey taught May to lighten up and have a little fun.”

Once again reflecting her long-held role as the “counselor” in the friend group, Lauren thoughtfully reflects on the dynamics that tie May and Kelsey together despite their various issues. Each woman in the group clearly has a distinct role, and they all balance each other out in necessary ways. This passage reflects Lauren’s keen understanding of the many unspoken dynamics that drive both Kelsey and May, suggesting that the essence of their personalities remains the same even in adulthood.

“It was a familiar feeling that Lauren had been ingrained to hide from an early age. She hadn’t gotten to where she was by showing her anger. And there was no question in Lauren’s mind that May’s anger had always been there, simmering beneath the perfect, polite surface. If she had to follow the rules, so should everyone else.”

Lauren and May have bonded over their shared status as minorities, but despite this common ground, Lauren realizes that they interpret this status very differently. Both women have been conditioned to show their emotions in ways that will not elicit violence or cause people not to take them seriously. However, Lauren’s observation of May’s “simmering” anger indicates that May has been so intensely rule-focused that she has not allowed herself to break free and fully express her frustration at society’s inequalities; instead, May makes it her mission to ensure that everyone follows “the rules.”

“One approach to the story is through a gendered lens, raising questions about the power dynamics between the parties (if the affair did in fact happen). Mrs. Welliver clearly depicted Berry as the sexual aggressor, the woman who wore down her husband’s resistance and then refused to go away when he tried to salvage his marriage. From this point of view, she is Glenn Close’s bunny-boiling home wrecker from Fatal Attraction, and Thomas Welliver is the man paying decades later for succumbing to a moment of weakness.”

The news article that describes the scandal surrounding Lauren and Thomas offers a thoughtful but ultimately misguided analysis of the circumstances of the affair. By portraying Lauren as the “sexual aggressor” in the affair, Thomas’s wife invokes unfair and racist stereotypes, suggesting that Lauren is inherently sexualized and that her husband is merely falling victim to Lauren’s seductive efforts through no fault of his own. By casting Lauren as some sort of femme fatale, both Thomas’s wife and the writer of the news article absolve one party from judgment in the matter of the affair.

“While a relationship between a camp’s director and its owner may have been viewed as consensual at the time, the inherent power differential between the parties makes the notion of ‘consent’ murkier than it once was—especially when the person with more power is married, leaving the relationship shrouded in secrecy and the less powerful party less able to seek counsel from friends or family.”

Although Lauren remains content with her ongoing affair with Thomas, the news article describing the relationship considers how the understanding of Lauren’s affair has changed since the #MeToo movement, providing a wealth of broader social context. While Thomas’s wife seeks to vilify Lauren, the writer of the article suggests that Lauren is doomed from the beginning, for even if she were fully consenting in this relationship, she is already marginalized and at a disadvantage.

“We have a problem. That missing guy? That’s the kid who was dating Marnie Mann when she died.”

When the three friends realize that they have met David Smith, Marnie’s former boyfriend, this piece of information completely changes the stakes. In this context, David evolves from a random missing person to a threat, given that the friends’ past connection with him will now place them under considerable suspicion and attract public attention that none of them can afford to endure.

“He said it was probably some stupid TikTok thing. People messing with strangers to start fights and record them. I wasn’t sure what to believe, but I figured it was best either way not to make a public scene on the sidewalk. People record everything nowadays for spectacle.”

As David’s erstwhile date, Christine, recounts the discovery of Kelsey’s note and describes the moment to Carter, she shows her initial willingness to believe David’s word and trust that the note was really meaningless. As the novel unfolds, Burke suggests that every female character holds some degree of paranoia due to the pressure of constant surveillance in modern society, and Christine’s account makes it clear that the urge not to “make a public scene” is always at the forefront of her mind. She therefore proves herself to have motivations very similar to those of May, Kelsey, and Lauren.

“‘He was totally gaslighting me. Calling me crazy and paranoid,’ Christine said, the pitch of her voice rising. ‘Then when he finally admitted it, he told me he thought he had a ‘love addiction.’ His college girlfriend died the summer after graduation at some camp, and he started blaming that. I didn’t really see the connection. I told him he was just making excuses. Then he made it sound like he was somehow the victim, complaining that someone catfished him.’”

From Christine’s perspective, she is merely describing the events that led to her breakup with David prior to his death, but Burke also uses this scene as a plot device to deliver crucial information about the three friends’ pasts. Specifically, her reference to a “college girlfriend” who died “at some camp” is designed to be a clear reference to Marnie, and Christine’s offhand comment therefore emphasizes the fact that David’s death will complicate the three friends’ lives. Additionally, the scene allows Burke to introduce the idea that although David is unjustly murdered, he is also an untrustworthy, disloyal person who does not respect women.

“As a result, May spent her summers with fancy kids doing fancy things, and then graduated from a college that immediately opened doors at the highest echelons of wealth and power. And as far as May’s complaints about the pressures of being a ‘model minority’? She had no idea what it was like to be the other kind.”

This passage makes it clear that Lauren feels some resentment toward May, whose minority experience has been very different from Lauren’s. May’s level of education and status as a law professor means that she is rarely doubted on the basis of her Chinese heritage. By contrast, Lauren is constantly forced to prove herself to people whose racist leanings cause them to unfairly doubt her qualifications. Thus, just as May resents Kelsey for her privileged lifestyle, Lauren resents May for her relatively privileged experiences despite her status as a minority. Yet once again, Lauren leaves much of her resentment unspoken, maintaining her role as a bystander in the larger drama as it unfolds.

“Perhaps she had been blind to the warning signs, too wrapped up in the allure of a friendship that had felt so complete and unconditional. According to Josh, it was like the three of them had become obsessed with pleasing each other. He thought it was weird that neither Kelsey nor Lauren had a real relationship and always seemed to have time to text and do puzzles with her all day.”

This passage reveals the widening cracks in May’s relationship with Josh, for rather than being supportive and understanding of May’s existing relationships, he expresses unkind skepticism of her friends, thereby demonstrating the depths of his own insecurity. However, only with the explosive events of the weekend in the Hamptons does May realize that Josh does not want her to derive emotional satisfaction from anyone other than him.

“Kelsey had complained that her father could be overly involved in her life, but Lauren hadn’t realized until now the extent to which he infantilized his daughter. Kelsey had never been helpless, not even as a child. As he continued to rant about how unfairly she had been treated—by fate, by the media, by internet ‘looky-loos’—and how he was going to use his money and influence to protect her, she recalled the screenshot May had sent her from the true crime message board.”

Lauren’s thoughts in this passage reveal her deeper consideration of The Fragility of Trust and The Burden of Secrets. After speaking to Kelsey’s father, Lauren realizes the extent of his obsession with his daughter and begins to reevaluate her own memories in this light, striving to uncover new truths that will shed light on the current situation. Her reflections reveal that Bill tries to shield Kelsey in the bubble wrap of privilege, and his inability to see her as an adult or a potentially flawed person renders him a deeply suspicious figure in light of recent events.

“I’m a pariah now, Nate. I order food under fake names. I have to keep working for my father for the rest of my life, who pays me just enough to have a good life but not have actual freedom, because no other employer will touch me.”

In this passage, Kelsey’s own complaints confirm the harmful level of control that her father now wields over her. Even more importantly, her statement reflects her efforts to make Nate realize how deeply his ow actions have impacted her. Despite her words, however, he maintains that he orchestrated the deaths of two men in order to help her, not harm her, failing to realize that his murderous actions have resulted in the utter destruction of her quality of life and her sense of self.