A Wedding in December_ A Novel - Anita Shreve [48]
“I thought you kept in touch.”
“I did. I only mean that she was so overshadowed by Carl.”
“Surely, she held her own.”
“Not really.”
Harrison sensed distaste. “You don’t sound as though you liked him much.”
“Oh, do I give that impression?” Agnes asked.
Harrison laughed. As if the bartender had read his mind—which, Harrison supposed, was what bartenders were supposed to do—he appeared at Harrison’s elbow asking him what he’d like to drink. Harrison looked at Agnes’s glass. “What are you drinking?” he asked.
“White wine. Considerably better than my usual.”
“I’ll have that then,” he told the waiter.
“You’re an editor,” Agnes said when the bartender had gone.
“I am. I work for a small publishing firm in Toronto. We publish mostly Canadian and British authors. Audr Heinrich? Vashti Baker?”
Agnes nodded vaguely. “And you have kids,” she said.
“Two boys. Charlie, eleven, and Tom, nine.” Harrison was handed a delicately etched glass of cold white wine. “Nora said you’re teaching at Kidd.”
“I’m the one who never left. You know, there’s always one in every class who never leaves? Who wants to be a perpetual student?”
“How is the old place, anyway?”
“You wouldn’t recognize it, Harrison. Very multicultural now. Terrific emphasis on science. The buildings all have new additions. I have a condo in Rowan House.”
“Really?” he asked. “In the turret?” Harrison took a quick glance at Rob and at the man he didn’t recognize. He felt overdressed in a tie.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Agnes said.
“I’m envious. I always wanted to see what it looked like inside the turret.”
“Well, anytime you find yourself downeast . . .”
Harrison smiled.
“You’ve never been to a reunion,” she said, and from her matter-of-fact and slightly scolding tone, Harrison deduced that Agnes had been to all of them.
“No.”
“All the really interesting people never go.”
Harrison took a sip of wine. Rob and his guest were talking with Jerry and Julie. Rob looked elegant in a dark gray suit with an open collar. “Who’s the guy with Rob?”
“His name is Josh. He’s a cellist.”
“I didn’t realize about Rob . . .”
“No, I didn’t either,” Agnes said.
“Would he have known at Kidd?” Harrison asked, knowing even as he posed the question that it was none of his business. He tried to remember whom Rob had dated.
“I suppose,” Agnes said. “Biologically speaking, from what I’ve read, he would have to have known. In those days, though, he couldn’t have acted on it, could he? Well, not so that anyone noticed. Now, of course, we have a Gay and Lesbian Coalition. It’s good, and I’m glad we have it, but I worry that the really young students who are just discovering their sexuality will gravitate to the group before they know what they’re about.” Agnes fixed something inside her blouse, a bra strap gone awry. “Rob and Josh want to go to the outlets tomorrow. There’s an Armani for them, a J.Crew for me. I might do some Christmas shopping. Want to come with us?”
“Thanks. I might.”
Agnes leaned back, making a show of surveying him from head to toe. “Let’s see, button-down shirt, blue blazer—Brooks Brothers, right?”
Harrison smiled. “Is it that bad?”
Through a wall or from down a corridor, Harrison could hear the lively sounds of another party, a bigger gathering, one with music. Jerry, standing by the drinks table, said to his wife, Do what you want. I don’t care.
“How’s your mother?” Agnes asked.
The question surprised Harrison. No one from Toronto ever asked about his family. They simply didn’t know him as having a family. “She’s still living in the old house in Tinley Park, just outside Chicago. My sister, Alison, is in LA. She’s a scriptwriter.”
“Really,” Agnes said, her eyebrows raised at this unexpected bit of glamour. “Anything I’d have seen?”
“When we were in LA just recently, Alison was working on a movie with Ben Affleck and Morgan Freeman. The boys got to watch the stunt doubles in harnesses film the special effects. My wife, Evelyn, got to chat with Ben Affleck, which of course made her day.”
Nora, her hair tucked