Page 129 of Gifted & Talented

“Oh, Christ. I didn’t mean it like a good thing,” Cass told her with a grimace.

Meredith, the asshole, laughed and laughed.

“I know,” she eventually managed. “But still. That’s what I wish my mom had known.”

“What, that marriage is a scam?”

“No,” said Meredith. “That someday, if you want to—”

If you break a pattern. If you give the feeling a voice. If you ask the right person for help. Meredith was making a decision, a bad one, one she knewshe’d be punished for but wouldn’t regret. She reveled in the precipice of danger. Meredith was many things, an asshole, a dried-up former prodigy, a criminal, but never afraid.

“—you’ll feel alive again.”

77

Gillian, meanwhile, felt very conflicted. She glanced multiple times at Dzhuliya, obviously with the intention to say something. Eilidh watched her do it, taking dainty sips from her martini, until finally Gillian threw her hands in the air and dragged Arthur over.

Eilidh followed reluctantly, or with the appearance of reluctance. She wasn’t yet sure which.

“Welcome to the family,” Gillian said, and put her arms around a startled Dzhuliya. It was an awkward hug, uncomfortable for both women, and after an appropriate period of time that Gillian appeared to have already run the calculations for, Gillian released her.

“Things are very strange,” Gillian said to Dzhuliya as an apparent conclusory note. “But humans are very adaptable. Eventually anything can become bearable, even normal.” She glanced quickly, meaningfully at Eilidh. “It all depends on what you choose to accept.”

Then she turned a bright, politician’s wife smile on Dzhuliya. “We’ll have to have you over to our house for Thanksgiving,” she said. “If not sooner.”

“That would be nice,” said Dzhuliya politely.

“And keep us updated. Please.”

The last bit was said with such earnestness that even Dzhuliya looked struck by it. “Yes,” she said, and cleared her throat. “Yes, I will. Thank you.”

Gillian nodded, and that, too, appeared laden with significance. “You’re welcome.”

The two women smiled at each other. Then Arthur coughed, gave Dzhuliya a hug, and tipped his chin in an awkward, boyish way before departing with Gillian, the two of them making their way back to Yves.

Eilidh remained, sipping her drink.

Dzhuliya looked at her. “I know it’s not the time,” she said in a quiet voice, “but I just wanted to tell you—”

“You made me feel better,” said Eilidh. It startled Dzhuliya so much that her eyes went wide, and she looked impossibly young, like a twenty-six-year-old girl-woman who still didn’t know a single thing about life, much less how she was going to raise a child without a father.

“I really couldn’t have gotten through this week without you,” added Eilidh, who was now trying a thing where she said what she meant before the opportunity was lost and life was over. “I just wanted to thank you for that.”

“Oh. Well, it was mutual.” Dzhuliya was still having difficulty looking Eilidh in the eye. “I just… I like you a lot, I’ve always liked you. I didn’t think you’d ever—” She broke off and looked into the trees outside. “I’d have done things differently if I’d known, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” said Eilidh. “Yeah, I agree.”

The truth is that for Dzhuliya it had all been kind of a whirlwind. She had known right away that her boss liked her, the way all women typically know; likewise, she felt an attraction to him, to the way he commanded a room. And either she was just a win for him, something conquerable and rewarding to a man whose business sense was melting gradually away, or she was something else, someone whose company he enjoyed, a clever, funny woman who happened to be around him all the time. Who could say? Dzhuliya had wanted to believe the latter, that things had just…happened,and she was struggling with money, the company didn’t pay enough to live in the city but she wanted to live her big-city youth while she could, to sleep with people and not call them back, to have some cheap thrills while she was still exciting enough to have them, and Thayer was really generous. He was a really generous boss, and a foodie, and he took Dzhuliya to lunch all the time and she loved it, to the point where she made sure she was always available at noon. And then one time he taught her how to eat caviar with good vodka and the champagne was so sweet they both got a little carried away, so they popped into the shop next door and Dzhuliya tried on a beautiful dress she could never afford and Thayer bought it for her as a gift, said wear it on a date with a handsome man who treats you well, and she said I thought that’s what I was doing.

And anyway, well, he got a place in the city for her, and he stayed there sometimes, a lot more often recently, even without the option of sex. He was just starting to get comfortable around her, and yeah, she matched with people on her dating apps still and occasionally sexted, but then her period was late and she couldn’t bring people to the apartment because Thayer hadkeys, but she couldn’t give it up because she loved it so much, it hadin-unit laundry and parking. And he bought her the car, too. Safer, he said, than her old car. And how was she going to argue with that?

She was attracted to him, definitely, she liked him, might have maybe loved him over time; she wasn’t sure if that’s where it was going, you know, to some forever kind of love. Was he ever planning to marry her? She had no idea. He’d told her he would take care of her; he’d asked if she wanted an abortion and she’d considered it, thinking that was probably wise. She hadn’t decided yet at the time he made the will, but afterward, she decided she would have the baby. Not for any moral reason but because it seemed exciting to her, someone who would love her. She knew that was a bad reason to have a baby, and pregnancy itself was so awful, she was so tired, but also, she felt the stirrings of excitement, of having something to look forward to that wasn’t eons of debt and layoffs at work and the Appalachian Trail turning gradually into arid savanna.

She loved her niece and nephew, and she wanted something of her own. Dating had never been fun for her. If it was just her and the baby, so be it. She had been thinking more and more seriously of calling things off with Thayer, because what if it was a girl? She couldn’t bear it, her daughter thinking of her what Meredith Wren had said, that she was just a cliché. She wasn’t. She was lonely and she had all this love, you know, all this tenderness, all this softness and warmth, and nobody but Thayer had wanted it from her. Everyone else wanted something from Dzhuliya that she didn’t know how to give. And her mother would help her, she decided. She’d quit and use her job reference from Thayer to move up to a better paying, more stable job; she’d finish her young adult vampire novel and dedicate it to her baby; she’d grow up fast and then some other grown-up would like that about her, her self-assuredness, her desire to make the world a nicer place.

And yes, she’d think about Eilidh Wren when she masturbated and take that secret to her grave. Every lady should have a quiet darkness.

But now Thayer was dead and Dzhuliya was rattled and Eilidh Wren was her dream girl, her nightmare fuel, and how the fuck had Dzhuliya ever thought she could have a baby? How had she foreseen any of this shit going down? The Wrens loomed massive in Dzhuliya’s consciousness, she tossed and turned all night knowing that now she carried one ofthem. The inimitable House of Wren, full of expired greatness, exactly like a tomb.

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