Page 135 of Gifted & Talented

“Yes,” I said, amazed that I didn’t even have to think about it. I don’t think I would have believed even a few years ago that I could be where I was and still say those words. “Yes, it is, and it was, even before you just handed me a bazillion dollars.”

“I want that,” she said.

“It’s yours,” I said, like a wish-granting genie.

It was over. I loved her again. Maybe I never stopped. God damn it, I’m the problem. Give a mouse a cookie and bam, the mouse just fucking loves cookies.

“Well, I’ve got to go see a man about a rental car,” she said with a long-suffering sigh, releasing me to reach for the door handle. She stepped outof the car, then bent to look at me through the passenger side window. I obligingly rolled it down.

“Want to come over?” Meredith said, referring to her father’s house, presumably, not the dark side, though even that invitation I might have considered, or maybe I already had. “I’m probably turning myself in on Monday, so, you know. Time is of the essence.”

“I’ll have to talk to my mom, but sure,” I said. “Pizza’s on you.”

She looked at me until she glowed with fondness.

“Are you sure?” she said. I don’t know what she meant. Who cares!

“Fuck yeah,” I said, and closed the window on her laugh, and I put the damn car in drive.

80

Meredith told me later about her conversation with Jamie over the phone, in the rental car on the way back to the rental place by the airport. She told him that she was turning herself in and that she hoped he got eternal accolades for his article, though the details of this call were not something I was privy to, which I complained about at length. She wouldn’t budge, because as I have implied very strongly, she is an asshole.

Suffice it to say, though, he would be waiting for her, but no surprise there. He had been waiting for her a long time. What difference did a year really make when you had designs on forever? Assuming no one died, that is, but that’s kind of the crux of the thing. That’s the assumption we all make, or else what are any of us doing here?

Dummies, every single one of us. The gifted ones most of all.

81

Scene: The smoldering, partially destroyed home office of the late Thayer Wren

The Players:

Meredith Wren

Arthur Wren

Eilidh Wren

(Hand-designed by God, which is to say, fully imagined by Lou.)

Meredith Wren sits behind her father’s elaborate mahogany desk, which has been untouched. Eilidh Wren enters the office from somewhere stage right, the burnt-to-a-crisp dining room.

Eilidh: Excuse me, you’re giving the company to Lou and you’re going to prison? Just… unilaterally, that’s what’s happening? No consulting with either of us?

Meredith: Were you expecting something different?

Arthur enters from the corridor leading to the bedrooms, looking tousled. He isn’t wearing a shirt. He is, however, wearing a pair of very loud, flamingo-print pants made famous on the Formula M circuit by one Yves Reza.

Arthur: Oh! You’re both here. I was just fetching Gill’s book.

Arthur picks up a hardcover that has been burned so severely it only readsNAPO, and the partially scorchedAlooks like anE.

Arthur: Here it is!

Eilidh and Meredith exchange a bemused frown.

Meredith: Where have you been, Brother Depravity?

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