“You can’t remember your son’s name?” says Lilac.
“No!” says Debbie. “It’s great.”
“You need to go to the doctor.”
“You need to understand. I’ve been wanting this for so long, Lil. I burn dinner all the time, I can never find my car in the parking lot–I keep losing track of the year. I love it when that happens.”
“There are treatments, Debbie!” Lilac is trying to maintain eye contact; it feels like that must be important.
“I don’t want them,” says Debbie, and in her great dark pupils is the exhilaration, the need for a world without regrets.
The Lees’ rooms are small and bright. Madeleine Havisham is not large, but she barely fits on Elijah’s mother’s little mattress, curled up with a hand at her mouth.
“Thank you for this,” says Proserpina.
Elijah says nothing.
“She can’t stay here,” says Proserpina. “They’d just–I’ve talked Mr. Buchanan into taking her on as my tutor. On the steamer with us. I think she’ll accept.”
“Don’t you,” says Elijah, and his voice shakes. “Don’t you need a porter? Me fetch carry very good, Miss Lady. Only two dollar–”
“Elijah,” she whispers, and tries to kiss him. His lips are cold.
Stephanie Long and Lucie Corner (#30) dance until it’s time to go to the back porch and get interrupted making out by a startled Miguel Sebanon (#8) and continue from the back of the cab to Stephanie Long’s apartment. The cat won’t leave them alone. Lucie Corner pries herself away at three in the morning and leaves Stephanie Long with her shirt off, her pants on and a throbbing petulant disappointment, then comes back at seven and they get in the shower and Lucie Corner leaves again and finally, sleep.
Stephanie Long isn’t sure who’s supposed to call whom. Neither does.