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“I’m going to try to sell my grandparents’ house finally.”
“Oh.” It was a complicated “oh.” Eudoxia wasn’t going to leave it at that.
“I think my dad was pretty happy that I volunteered.”
“I am sure he was. When do you go?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Dear me. And return?”
“I bought an open ticket for the way back. I don’t know how long it’s going to take.”
“You don’t mind going back there? After what happened?”
Lena didn’t stop to think how to say these things in Greek, she just said them in Greek. “Of course I do. I mind everything after what happened. I mind being here or being there. I mind thinking about it and not thinking about it. I mind walking and I can’t stand still. I need to do something.”
“Oh, my dear one,” Eudoxia cooed sympathetically.
Lena felt her eyes filling with tears. She thought of Tibby’s mother. “It’s hard for everyone,” she said.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Lena was stunned, but the way Eudoxia said it made Lena know she meant it. Slowly in Lena’s mind a picture evolved of the two of them trundling through the airports and climbing the steep paths of Oia. “Doxie, you are very kind to offer.”
“I have savings, you know. I could keep you company. I could help sell the house. I know something about real estate. Anatole says I could sell a Bible to the Pope.”
Lena pictured the two of them side by side, hand-delivering Tibby’s letter to Kostos in London. She almost smiled at the thought. Imagine if Eudoxia met Kostos. Then Lena would never, never hear the end of it.
“The plane leaves early tomorrow morning,” Lena said.
“I can pack quickly. I am a light traveler. You don’t even know that about me.”
The tears in Lena’s eyes spilled over. “I am touched that you offered. I really am. But I can’t take you from Anatole for so long. What would he do? He might starve. He might die of loneliness. And besides, I will be fine. I don’t mind going by myself at all.”
Eudoxia sighed. She was quiet for a few moments. “All right, then. But if you change your mind you can call me anytime tonight. I will be home.”
“Thank you, Doxie. I will.”
“It will be good practice for your Greek.”
Lena hung up the phone and lay down on her bed and cried a puzzling brew of tears. It was probably good you couldn’t flip the love switch, because sometimes it was what you needed, even if you didn’t want it.
“I had an idea,” Brian said to Bridget on her second strange morning in Bowral.
She looked up from the kitchen computer, where she was trying to find a flight back to the States and ruefully facing up to the fact that she had come on a one-way ticket, had made no provision for the future, and had not one single plan for what happened next.
“Well, more like a favor,” he said.
“Okay,” Bridget said. She was in penance mode. She was ready to do a favor.
“You know that software project I told you about.”
“Right.”
“Well, I was wondering if you could give me some help.”
She turned to him. “I don’t really know anything about software,” she began, “but—”
“No.” He sort of smiled. “I was wondering if you could look after Bailey for a few days. So I could work.”
“Oh.” Now she felt embarrassed. She was unused to the feeling. “Right. Well.” There was no way she was going to come right out and say no to him. “I don’t actually know anything about taking care of kids either. I’m worried I would mess it up.”
“Bee, it’s not like there’s any science to it. Figure she’s like you but wears a diaper and needs to sleep and eat a bit more often.”
Bridget nodded hesitantly, wondering if this statement was strictly informative or if there was an insult in it.
“But if you don’t want to, I understand.”
“No, I will. I’ll do it. I’ll try.” She heard herself agreeing before she’d quite talked herself into it.
“Thanks. It would make a big difference to me,” he said. He looked like he meant it.
“I’m happy to,” she said. It was rare that she spoke dishonestly. She wondered if she looked as diminished as Brian did.
Carmen was standing in the Vera Wang boutique attempting to buy the most expensive wedding dress in New York City when she heard the special ring tone of her agent, Lynn. “Hi, Lynn.”
“Sweetie! I’ve got an unbelievable piece of news. Grantley Arden is casting for his Katrina opus and he wants to meet with you. They’ve already set up the production office in New Orleans. He wants you to go down there and talk to him and a couple of the producers. They’ve already got Matt Damon committed.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No.”
“When?”
“They want to meet next month on the twenty-eighth. That gives you some time. But I think you should go a few days early and get a feel for the place. Have you been?”
“No.”
“Well, you need to go. Listen to the accents, walk around, eat some food, absorb everything you can. It’s a film about the city. You really need to take it in. That’s what Grant kept telling me. I’ll email you the script as soon as I get it.”
“I’m working until March twenty-fourth.”
“So leave as soon as you finish. And plan to stay an extra week in case they want to get you on film or have you meet the studio people. I don’t want you coming home without an offer.”
When Carmen hung up, her heart was pounding. The saleslady wheeled in a rack of dresses, but Carmen couldn’t look at them. How could she think about wedding dresses at a time like this?
Carmen thanked the saleslady and apologized and walked out to the street. She walked up and down Madison Avenue calling every member of her team, and then she called Jones.
“I’m blown away,” he said. “Do you know anything about the part?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Carmen, this is big. This could be the biggest thing you’ve ever done by far.” She had to hold the phone away from her ear because he was shouting.
“I know.” After Jones she called her mom.
“Is it like, an audition?” her mom asked.
“They want to meet me,” Carmen said impatiently. “You aren’t really expected to audition at my level,” she heard herself adding somewhat haughtily. She realized she sounded like Jones when she said it.
“Oh. Right.” Her mother was on her heels, which was a place Carmen was constantly trying to put her but never wanted her to be once she was there.
Carmen relented. “But it’s basically like an audition.”
“Are they meeting with other people for the part?” her mom asked, which Carmen interpreted to mean “You haven’t really got anything worth bragging about yet, have you?”
When she hung up with her mother she considered calling her father but decided not to. Unlike her mother, her dad would assume she had the part won and the contracts signed. He would probably go around telling people she’d landed the starring role. So it went, when you were an idea.
Carmen felt hollow and unsatisfied as she walked downtown. She felt like she’d just left a three-star restaurant with no food in her stomach. Her fingers ached to make a few more calls. But she couldn’t call Bee. She couldn’t call Lena, and God knew she couldn’t call Tibby. How fast her sweet wine turned to vinegar.
It was that old feeling: if she hadn’t told the Septembers yet, it hadn’t really happened. She thought of her alleged wedding, her robotic efforts to push it forward. Her life as it unspooled without her friends was no life at all.
Lena wore brown and put the red dress in her carry-on bag. She worked up her courage through seven hours in the air, such that after the plane landed at Heathrow she marched directly to the women’s restroom. She wriggled out of her sweater, T-shirt, and pants. The stall was tiny, of course, and she kept whacking her elbow into the metal wall.
