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I look at Bernard, pleadingly. “But we’re already out.”
“Go,” he says, pushing back his chair. “Have fun with Maggie. Show her the town.”
He takes out his wallet and hands me twenty dollars. “Promise me you’ll take a cab. I don’t want you riding the subway at night.”
“No.” I try to give back the twenty but he won’t take it. Maggie is already at the exit as if she can’t get out of there fast enough.
Bernard gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “We can see each other anytime. Your friend is only here for two nights.”
“When?” I ask.
“When what?”
“When will I see you again?” I hate myself, sounding like a desperate schoolgirl.
“Soon. I’ll call you.”
I leave the restaurant in a huff. I’m so mad, I can barely look at Maggie.
A cab pulls up to the curb and a couple gets out. Maggie slides into the backseat. “Are you coming?”
“What choice do I have?” I grumble under my breath.
Maggie has written Capote’s address on the back of a napkin. “Green-wich Street?” she asks, pronouncing each syllable.
“It’s ‘Grenich.’”
She looks at me. “Okay. Grenich,” she says to the cabbie.
The taxi peels away, throwing me against Maggie. “Sorry,” I murmur coldly.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
“Is it because I didn’t like Bernard?”
“How could you not like him.” It’s not a question.
She folds her arms. “Do you want me to lie to you?” And before I can protest, she continues, “He’s too old. I know he’s not as old as our parents, but he might as well be. And he’s strange. He’s not like anyone we grew up with. I just can’t see you with him.” To soften the blow, she adds kindly, “I’m only telling you this for your own good.”
I hate when friends tell you something is “for your own good.” How do they know it’s for your own good? Do they know the future? Maybe in the future, I’ll look back and see that Bernard has actually been “good for me.”
“Okay, Mags.” I sigh. The taxi is racing down Fifth Avenue, and I study each landmark: Lord & Taylor, the Toy Building, the Flatiron Building, committing each to memory. If I lived here forever, would I ever get tired of these sights?
“Anyway,” Maggie says cheerfully, “I forgot to tell you the most important part. Lali’s gone to France!”
“Really?” I ask dully.
“You know how the Kandesies have all that land? Well, some big developer came along and bought, like, fifty acres and now the Kandesies are millionaires.”
“I bet Lali went to France to meet Sebastian,” I say, trying to act like I care.
“That’s what I think too,” Maggie agrees. “And she’ll probably get him back. I always thought Sebastian was one of those guys who used women. He’ll probably be with Lali because of her money.”
“He has his own money,” I point out.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s a user,” Maggie says.
