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Bridget couldn’t follow all these thoughts at once. She couldn’t figure out which way they led.
“There is one thing I feel sure of, and I know it is right. All these days I keep coming back to this one thing. We spent that night together, me holding you, and I felt something stronger than I ever felt for anybody else, and stronger than I even thought it was possible to feel. It blew me away. On theory alone, that made me know I couldn’t be with Kaya anymore.”
He shook his head again. He looked sort of disgusted with himself, but tempted to laugh too. “I’ve been wanting to be rational, to believe my decision about Kaya is theoretical and not just driven by my insane, out-of-my-head attraction for you.”
“Is it…,” she asked breathlessly, “…theoretical?”
He looked at her face very closely. “Not at all.”
You guys!
6-½ days! Ahhhhhhh! Yahhhhhhhh! Wahhhhhhhh!
Carma
The letter came to Lena postmarked from Providence, Rhode Island, at almost the last moment it could have before the end-of-the-summer beach trip. Lena’s heart throbbed as she opened it, but she knew it wouldn’t determine her fate, even if the answer was no.
Because Annik was right. She was an artist. She would find her way no matter who said what. Her fate didn’t belong to anyone else anymore.
The letter didn’t say no; it said yes. Lena closed her eyes and allowed the pleasure to seep through her. She was strict with herself about feeling joy, but this moment she had earned.
She went into the kitchen and literally sat on the letter, thinking about it for a long time. She would go and she could go. She didn’t need her parents’ money and she didn’t need their permission. She thought about that, too. She didn’t need it, but she wanted it. That’s what she realized.
She put on a neat navy skirt and a pretty linen blouse. She brushed her hair smooth and put pearl earrings in her ears. She borrowed her mother’s car to drive to her father’s office.
Mrs. Jeffords, her father’s secretary, sent Lena in without announcing her.
Her father looked surprised to see her in the doorway. Indeed, he was so surprised, he appeared genuinely happy at the sight of her, like he’d forgotten everything that had happened in the preceding two months and returned instinctively to his old tenderness.
“Come in,” he urged, standing up.
She was still holding the letter when she sat down across from him. “I heard from art school about the scholarship,” she said.
“You got it,” he said evenly.
“How did you know?” she asked.
He looked placid, almost philosophical. “Because I saw your drawings. When I saw them I knew you would get it.”
This was one of the less direct compliments she had ever received. If it even was one.
“Daddy, I don’t want to upset or disappoint you. But I really do want to go. I want you and Mom to want it with me.”
He sighed. He put his elbow on his desk and rested his cheek in his palm in a boyish way. “Lena, I’m afraid I’m the one who’s upset and disappointed you.”
She didn’t hurry up and nod, but she wasn’t going to argue, either.
“You should go to art school. You proved it to me with those drawings just as you proved it to the scholarship people.”
She kept her expression in check. She didn’t trust him yet. “So it’s okay with you, then?”
He thought about this for a while. “I’m honored that you’re asking me when you earned the right not to have to.”
Her chest ached. “I want to ask you,” she said. “It matters to me what you say.”
“The answer is yes.”
“Thanks.”
She got up to go.
“Lena?”
“Yes?”
“When I began to realize, with your mother’s help, the depth of my recent mistakes”—he cleared his throat—“I felt proud of you for not going along with them.”
“You didn’t make it easy,” she told him honestly.
God help me, Rena dear, I am coming home. George has finally seen the sense in it. Effie will fly home with me in one week. Please make arrangements with Pina, if you can spare her, to air out my house?
Dearest Valia, I cry as I read this. How happy we will be to have you home where you belong!
I have tried in my way to be free.
—Leonard Cohen
“Hi, Dad.”
“Carmen? Hi, bun! How are you?”
She felt slightly sheepish, but she couldn’t let this wait any longer. “I’m fine.”
“How’s the baby?”
“He’s great. He kicks like a black belt.”
Albert laughed appreciatively, even though it was the baby of his ex-wife and her new husband they were talking about.
“How’s your mom?” He asked it in a genuine way.
“She’s great, too. She says it’s all coming back to her, even eighteen years later.”
“I’m sure it is,” her dad said a little wistfully.
“So, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
He waited patiently, though she sort of wished he would interrupt.
“Do you think…um…” She pulled her heavy hair off of her sweaty neck. “Do you think Williams might consider taking me back again?”
“Do you think you want to go there?”
Carmen didn’t want to seem like she was making her decisions rashly, so she didn’t belt out her answer, but rather, paused. “I do.”
“What about Maryland?”
Carmen chewed her lip. “I was thinking I might board there, you know, get the college experience and still be close to home. But then I realized I really, really want to go to Williams. Do you think they’ll take me back? God, I mean, what are the chances they would keep a spot?” Her voice ended squeaky and she didn’t sound calm anymore.
“I’ll tell you what,” her dad said. “Let me call.”
Carmen made attempts to clean her room while she waited. In truth, she did that spasmodic, surface rearranging, like putting the random AA battery into her sock drawer to get it out of sight, that would only make the job bigger when she got down to real cleaning.
Less than ten minutes later, the phone rang. She pounced at half a ring. So much for calm.
“Hi?”
“Hi.” It was her dad again.
“Did you talk to them?” she blurted out.
“I did. And Williams College says you’re good to go.”
“They’l
l take me?”
“Yep.”
“Just like that?”
“Yep.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Seriously?” Carmen was afraid to let herself be happy quite so soon.
“I’m happy for you, bun,” her dad said. “I can hear in your voice that it’s really what you want.”
“It’s really what I want,” she echoed.
She shook her head, feeling the nerves sizzle and zing all over her body. “I can’t believe it’s that easy.”
He didn’t respond. “You better start packing,” he said instead. “And you have fun at the beach with your friends this weekend.”
“I will. Thanks.”
After she told him she loved him and hung up the phone, she got another sneaking suspicion. Could this have been a case of parental collusion again? Maybe even deceitful parental intervention?
Had her dad ever called Williams and told them she wasn’t coming? Had he ever gotten his deposit back? Was this another case of her parents knowing her better than she knew herself?
It was really annoying, in a way. But then, it was good to be loved.
Carmabelle: Will you pack the green tube top, so I can be extremely tricky and steal it the first minute you turn away?
Tibberon: Sure. But how am I going to figure out who took it?
Carmabelle: I’m excited.
Tibberon: I’m excited too.
For three long days, Bridget left Eric alone so his thoughts would go straight. And at the end of the third day, just when she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, his head, thoughts and all, appeared by her bed, where she lay.
“Would you mind taking a walk with me?” he whispered.
She jumped out of bed. She followed him out of her cabin in her T-shirt and boxers. Suddenly she remembered something Carmen had said in the beginning of the summer. “Can you wait for me for one second?”
She left him outside and went back into the cabin. She found her white halter dress from the senior party still balled up in the bottom of her duffel bag. She hadn’t thought she would be wearing it. She shed her clothes and pulled the dress over her head. Luckily, the silky material didn’t hold its wrinkles.
