Perfect Fifths_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [42]
“Oh my God. Why did I say that?”
“Really, it’s okay. I’m not in too much agony over here.”
“I’m so sorry!”
“I’m kidding, Jessica. You don’t have to apologize.”
“I really have no idea what possessed me to say that.”
“Can I do something?”
“I guess that depends on what it is you want to do.”
“I want to get it out there: This is not an easy conversation.”
“Really? I thought I was the only one having a tough time.”
“What? Are you kidding me? We’ve only been talking for a few minutes, and I’m already sweating my balls off.”
“Perhaps you should take off that gorgeous sweater of yours.”
[Pause.]
“Feel better now?”
“My shirt is still sticking to me, but yes.”
“Look, I appreciate your honesty, Marcus. I’m nervous, too.”
“You don’t look nervous. You’re not biting your lip.”
“I’m not what?”
“You’re not giggling or nibbling the corner of your lip. That’s a dead giveaway that you’re nervous.”
“That was a dead giveaway. I’ve outgrown the habit. I don’t do that anymore.”
“Oh.”
“So I may not be gnawing on my lip, but it doesn’t mean I’m unfazed by how surreal this is. I mean, how is it possible that I’m sitting across the table from you at Starbucks right now? How does a conversation with you even start? There’s so much to say. And so much more we could say but maybe shouldn’t. And discerning the difference is difficult indeed.”
[Pause.]
“Uh, that last sentence was unintentionally singsongy.”
“I noticed.”
“Thanks for not calling attention to it, Marcus.”
“I was tempted to, but I refrained. I didn’t want to make you more self-conscious.”
“Thanks again. I appreciate your altruistic avoidance of acknowledging my annoying alliteration.”
“Ha.”
“So.”
“So let’s just accept that for the duration of our conversation …”
“The next hour and forty-odd minutes …”
“No matter how careful we try to be, we will both say things we’ll want to take back immediately. I will most definitely say more regrettable things than you will. But let’s agree not to beat ourselves up about it when it happens, okay? Let’s not get tangled up in regrets this afternoon. Let’s just… talk.”
“Talk.”
“Just talk.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“No apologies.”
“Right. I’m sor—”
“You’re apologizing again!”
“Oh my God. I was, wasn’t I? [Cough.] It’s just that, well, I had a lot on my mind today even before I ran into you. My brain is overloaded. I’m having a hard time processing everything that’s happening.”
“I can relate to that.”
“It’s like I’m coming down with prosopagnosia, or something.”
“Proso-what—?”
“Prosopagnosia. A brain disorder that makes it impossible to recognize objects or people. Oliver Sacks. The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat.”
“Interesting. Are you taking meds for the cramps? And your cold?”
[Cough.] “Sure.”
“Does it help with the pro-so-pag-no-si-a?”
“No. [Cough.] The meds are definitely not helping at all.”
two
(stranger things)
“So what’s in New Orleans?”
“Oh. Just some work that I’m doing.”
“What kind of work?”
“I spend my breaks as a volunteer for various long-term restoration projects.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. Save it for the locals who have been working all day, every day, since the levees broke.”
“Is it really that bad down there, even after all this time?”
“It hasn’t been that long, Jessica. Only four years, which in the grand scheme of things is only a blip. It’s the b in blip, and a lowercase one at that. But we’re so shortsighted here in this country. We’re all about quick fixes, and New Orleans will be anything but.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No more apologies, Jessica.”
“Right. I mean, I didn’t mean to sound so ignorant, but I guess I am.”
“It’s not your fault. I didn’t know how bad it was until I went down there and saw it for myself. How else would you know? There are too many other fucked-up things in the world vying for the public’s attention. New Orleans isn’t newsworthy anymore. The media has lost interest, but the problems haven’t gone away in the absence of attention. The poorest communities aren’t much closer to reconstruction today than they were in the weeks after the hurricane hit. Entire