Perfect Fifths_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [47]
“Want to know why this conversation isn’t making any sense?”
“Let me guess. Byron.”
“Bingo.”
[Pause.]
“So, not to put, uh, you know, undue emphasis on this particular topic or anything …”
“Feel free to put due emphasis on whatever topic you want, Jessica.”
“Because I can always blame it on Byron.”
“Exactly.”
“So having a drink every now and then is part of the whole Buddhist middle-path approach to life, right?”
“I was never a Buddhist.”
“Right. Are you still a deist who studies—What was it again?”
“Vipassana meditation. And not really. After years of trying, I had to own up to the fact that I’m not really the meditation type. It’s too passive. I’ve come closer at finding inner peace through action. Doing something instead of trying to contemplate nothing. That’s part of what my work in the Gulf Coast is all about. We tear houses down to the studs so they can be built again. Paul and I talked about this—the benefit of manual labor is that you can see the results right away. You tear out a door frame with a crowbar, and it’s gone, you know? It’s real progress, not just theoretical.”
“It’s the very opposite of the navel-gazing philosophy major I mistook you for.”
“I wasn’t going to point that out.”
“That’s why I didn’t want to guess.”
“What’s why?”
“You know how I hate to be wrong …”
“Right.”
“I didn’t want to find out just how totally wrong I could be.”
“The next time you make a mistake? Byron.”
“Right, I’ll pin it all on Byron.”
“Things will go a lot more smoothly, Jessica, if you just blame Byron.”
three
(fair question)
“Oh! I’m vibrating! I mean, my phone. It’s vibrating. Where is my phone? I can never find my phone.”
“Isn’t there a special pocket for your phone?”
“There are, like, thirty-six special pockets for my phone.”
“But if you put it in the same pocket every time, you’ll always know where it is. You need a system.”
“A system. Gee whiz, Marcus. I never thought of that. And—Oh! I’ve found it. It’s already stopped. Let’s see… Oh …”
“Who was it?”
“Just my sister.”
“Are you avoiding Bethany?”
“Not avoiding, per se, just not going out of my way to talk to her.”
“Is there something going on?”
“Oh, no. Well, not really. I know why she’s calling, and it’s not, like, an emergency situation or anything, so …”
“Why is she calling?”
“She’s just calling to wish me a happy b—bon voyage. It’s nothing. No big. Sister stuff. You know.”
“Not really. But, er, okay. How is Bethany, anyway?”
“Bethany is a happy divorcée.”
“She split with what’s-his-name?”
“G-Money And yes. Two years ago.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. He was always a bit of a …”
“Douchenozzle?”
“Well, yeah.”
“The divorce is the best thing that’s ever happened to Bethany—and Marin, for that matter.”
“Marin! How is Marin?”
“Marin is awesome. And get ready, because this is going to freak you out.”
“I’m ready.”
“She’s turning eight in June.”
“Eight?”
“Eight!”
“Oh, man. I remember when she was born! How did that happen?”
“Life happened. You want to see her picture?”
“Yes.”
“Here it is.”
“Wow. She’s a little knockout, isn’t she?”
“She’s really, really smart, too. But you can’t really see that in the picture.”
“Hmmm.”
“What?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but I swear that I’ve seen this picture before.”
“You’ve probably seen it in the advertising for the Be You Tea Shoppe.”
“Advertising?”
“Oh yeah. Before the stock market tanked, Marin’s face moved a few hundred thousand units of Chamomile Lowlights hair extensions to the six-to-nine-year-old starter market.”
“That’s it! I walked past Marin’s picture hundreds of times. One of those Shoppes used to be up on Nassau Street. It was MILF HQ until it went out of business.”
“That makes perfect sense. Princeton was precisely the type of high-end, upscale, affluential community targeted by Wally D’s/Papa D’s Retailtainment Corp. But a venture like the Be You Tea Shoppe was doomed in this economy. All the Shoppes will close by the end of this year.”
“Wow. That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. Too bad.”
“You seem oddly pleased by your sister’s failure.”