Page 81 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

Eventually the iPhones come out.

We wind up in another group where people are talking about the park construction project—some of our favorite paths are going to be closed. Fitness classes will be canceled. Francine is telling them about something called bear walks, and also how important it is to be able to get up from a lying position without using your arms. She’s telling them about the study that she loves to quote where elderly people who can get up from a lying position without using their arms live longer.

A few people try it—right there on the rooftop—and discover that it’s harder than it sounds. We exchange glances, laughing. Francine would normally be demonstrating, but she doesn’t. It’s her knee.

Later, she grabs another bubbly water from the open bar and wanders off to the far side to look over the railing, looking out at the lights, looking so sad. And I know she’s thinking about her knee.

She should be home, resting it.

I go over. “If only Igor and Monique were here. They would show them how to rise without using their arms.”

A grin spreads across her face. “They would laugh at everyone too much,” she says. “They can be merciless.”

“Igor is so good at everything, he doesn’t understand,” I say.

“Monique, too,” she says, fixing my collar. “She’s so gifted. Igor helps her understand what it’s like to have issues.”

“That’s funny, because I find Monique helps Igor in that respect,” I say.

“Who are Igor and Monique?” It’s Jeff, another neighbor.

Francine is smiling. “I brought Monique to the marriage, and Benny brought Igor. They’re both nine, and it’s sad because Monique speaks three languages and is an international personage while Igor is still having trouble with ‘Little Teapot.’”

“Well Igor doesn’t like to show off. It’s important to Igor to make Monique feel special.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t notice,” Francine says, “what with her artwork being on display in the Louvre.”

“The Louvre?” Jeff’s wife is there confused. People are wandering over, Aaron among them.

“Our children, Igor and Monique, have been about nine years old for the last decade,” I say.

“It’s been hard on them what with our jet-setting ways,” Francine adds. “Perhaps that’s why they’re so over-achieving.”

“Igor is applying to colleges these days,” I say. “Sometimes I think he is just far too serious for a nine-year-old.”

Francine grabs my arm with a look of concern. “He thinks he’s applying to colleges? Oh, how sweet!” This she says in a pitying tone. “Like an Easy-Bake oven, but colleges.”

“You’re correct in that he’s not truly applying. He’s been invited to quite a few of them. I don’t know if he’d really have to apply, so you were right in that it’s not really applying. I’m sure they would consider Monique if it weren’t for the Victorian ailments.”

“A few things are starting to make sense with you two,” Danielle says. “Suddenly this entire weird relationship is starting to make sense.”

“Oh my god, you guys,” says a neighbor. “I was like, they have kids? They named one Igor? Who names a kid Igor?”

Francine snorts. “People who love Igor Stravinsky. Did you know that one of his ballet pieces caused a riot in the streets of Paris? The man’s a badass.”

I’m beaming at her proudly. Then I catch sight of Aaron, standing there with a fake smile that’s very much like a dreadful rictus. He really doesn’t like Francine, ever since she reminded me how much I hate working for people.

I haven’t stopped thinking about that. I haven’t stopped thinking about our chocolate chip cookie dough discussion, either. I’ve reached out to a few people, in fact. Exploring ways to edge Aaron out. To take on a new partner. It turns out there are ways I could do it.

After James was killed so suddenly, I was in survival mode, doing all that I could to interact with the fewest people. I just wanted to be in the lab, my comfort zone. Now I’m thinking bigger—figuring out how to arrange things the way that I want instead of just reacting to them.

Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Who knew?

“This is what it would be like,” I say as soon as we’re alone.

She turns to me. “Yeah, right? Where they all think we’re sadly weird.”

“But we don’t give a crap,” I say. “That’s the kind of marriage that we have. And it’s a good example to set for Igor and Monique. They’ll have trouble in life if they worry too much about opinions.”

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