said, sarcastically. She cupped her palms, making them a scale. Which will it be: Arabic, Hawaii, Arabic, Hawaii, Arabic—
Barbara came in bearing a tray of cups and saucers and a pot of hot chocolate. She returned with muffins.
Not much surfing in Brooklyn, Sylvie said, with a full mouth.
Yeah, John drawled. Brooklyn is definitely not Hawaii.
What’s this about? Barbara asked.
Hawaii, she echoed when the girls told her. Do your parents know? The waves are dangerous.
That’s why it’s called extreme surfing, Mrs. Parish, Jilly said.
For how long? Barbara asked.
Katie shrugged. For as long as we’re having fun. We’ll have to get jobs down there, but I figure one Jamba Juice’s as good as another. Or we’ll wait tables at night, live on tourist tips.
But what about college? Shouldn’t you be thinking about your education?
Well, Sylvie said, John’s thinking about Brooklyn and Arabic.
Barbara turned to John. Brooklyn? Arabic?
It’s a pretty new idea.
Aren’t there Arabic classes in D.C.?
Not classical Arabic, John said. And this school comes highly recommended. I haven’t made up my mind yet, but the course is designed in three-semester sequences so if I don’t start this fall, I’ll have to wait till next year, but by then I’ll be at Brown.
Hmmm, Barbara said, thinking quickly. I like it, I mean, I think structure would be good for you. Let’s see what Dad thinks.
She gathered up the tray and cups, and left, John knew, to start the discussion.
Your mom’s thrilled to have you anywhere but Hawaii, Katie observed when Barbara left.
John agreed. Barbara was easy to see through. Though she loved Katie & Co., she worried about their intellectuality or lack of it. Even graduating from the local community college wasn’t a sure thing for Katie.
Brooklyn, John explained, means school, which is where she thinks I ought to be. It’s not Brown or Yale, but it’s school.
The girls didn’t give up. You can go to Brooklyn in the fall, and still come down for Christmas, Sylvie pointed out.
I’ll think about it.
Sylvie and Jilly left for work and Katie stayed. They had to have it out, John knew, and first thing, he apologized.
I had no reason to blame you. I overreacted to the way things turned out. I was feeling badly for Jilly, who didn’t deserve what she got. I tend to root for the underdog—it’s just the way I am, I guess. I’m sorry.
Katie nodded. Yeah, I kind of know that about you. And I asked myself what I could’ve done differently, and honestly, I don’t think I could’ve done anything. I didn’t even know right away that the decision had gone against her, since I was still in the water. And even when it was posted, I didn’t know how it would influence the final score. Jilly could still have overtaken me, us. I mean, you know how good she is.
John nodded. She was right. In the heat of the moment, she couldn’t have known. So they hugged, so they made up, so they were cool again. But summer was over, he was moving back to D.C., though he had to get out of D.C. She was going to Hawaii. And they were only eighteen, too young, Barbara would say, to commit to each other, and after all this, especially after all this, he couldn’t disagree.
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK—SEPTEMBER 2000
THEY SAW THREE APARTMENTS . The first was a furnished flat on the ground floor of a brownstone, with a backyard patio, which John especially liked. Then they drove downtown, took the freight elevator to the third floor of an old factory renovated for residential living, and followed the Realtor into a large light-filled space with industrial-sized windows, high ceilings, revealed ducts and pipes. Best of all, John noted: it had concrete floors, which was awesome. He could grind at home. When his cast came off. Which was awesome. But the concrete didn’t thrill Barbara. She thought the place too hard and too cold. Not a place I’d call home, she said.
She liked the third place, a
Philip Kerr
C.M. Boers
Constance Barker
Mary Renault
Norah Wilson
Robin D. Owens
Lacey Roberts
Benjamin Lebert
Don Bruns
Kim Harrison