Florida(26)

Never made it to France at all, Amanda said. I had to have three jobs just to survive.

But that’s what student loans are for, Genevieve said. When Amanda said nothing, Genevieve sighed and made a circular gesture with her hand and said, Aha. I did it again. Privilege. Sorry.

After a little time, Amanda said, My mom once quit smoking and saved the money so I could go. But my dad found her little stash. You know how it goes with my family.

Sure do. Yikes. How is that hot mess?

Better, Amanda said. Dad got put into a VA home, and Mom’s wandering around the house. My brothers lost the forklift business last year, but they’re okay. And my sister’s in Oregon, we think. Nobody’s heard from her in three years.

Even Mina? Genevieve said. You said she was in college. She hasn’t heard from her mom in three years?

Even Mina, Amanda said. She’s been living in our spare room to save money. It’s fantastic to have her around, she’s like a beam of light, does all the dishes, takes care of the garden. But then again, I basically raised her, even when I was pretty much a baby myself. You remember. I had to change all those fucking diapers so I couldn’t even try out for soccer. Sophie was such a whore.

Genevieve laughed and then saw Leo watching them in the mirror and stopped, blowing her cheeks out. My parents are the same as ever, she said. Marching clenched and seething toward eternity.

Remember that Frost poem we used to say when we were wondering which of our families would kill us first? Amanda said. Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. Et cetera. I would have given anything for a little ice.

At least you had some joy in your family. At least there was love, Genevieve said.

At least your family never made you bleed, Amanda said. Constantly.

Forgotten from the backseat, Leo’s little voice: I thought you were sisters.

God, no! Genevieve said, then looked at Amanda and said, Sorry.

Amanda smiled and said, I wouldn’t mind sharing some of your mom’s genes. Her pretty face. At the very least, her cheekbones. What I could have done if I’d just had those cheekbones. Ruled the world.

You have your own beauty, Genevieve said.

Privilege speaking, yet again, Amanda said, making the circular gesture with her hand.

Leo thought about this through two whole villages. There was a field full of caravans, kids running and a roil of dogs that made him shiver with longing. Why would Amanda want to look like his mom when Amanda was so very, very lovely? But when he started to ask, the women were already talking about other things.



* * *



—

The sun moved. Manfred moved his chair with it. He thought of nothing, time the consistency of water. Energy was being conserved until there was enough to let it blow bright and blow itself out. He couldn’t see it coming yet, but could sense the build. He longed for the aftermath. Silence, nothing. The songbirds were holding their songs; all outside was still. The tall man the women had left behind flittered from place to place without settling. Manfred didn’t bother to listen when he spoke. At noon the sun was overhead and the last slip of warmth fled. Manfred was left in the cold. Soon he would stand; he thought of the dinner he would make tonight, planned every bite. His energy was finite, after all, and he must save it. He opened his fingers to find that the pills had dissolved into a paste in his palm, the way they had the day before and the day before.



* * *



—

The women had taken a table in a plaza framed with plane trees. An empty carousel spun. Amanda once saw a mother who had lost her children in a grocery store who had had the same hysterical brightness.

Monoprix? Amanda said. Her first Parisian food and it was from a five-and-dime.

Honey, we only have an hour and the café’s not terrible. Also, Leo loves the carousel, Genevieve said.

The backs of Amanda’s eyelids felt sanded.

Lunch is on me! Genevieve said.

Well, then: Amanda ordered the lobster salad and a whole bottle of cold white wine. The waitress frowned at her French and answered in English. Genevieve was driving but motioned for a glass for herself.

Leo gazed at the carousel without touching his steak-frites, until Genevieve loosed him with a handful of euros and he ran off. He spoke in each animal’s ear until he settled on a flying monkey. The man operating the carousel boosted him up and Leo clung to the monkey’s neck and the music began and the monkey moved up and down on its pole. Amanda watched Leo go around three times. He was serious, unsmiling. She ate his fries before they went cold.

I’m sorry this isn’t nicer, Genevieve said. You’ll have time to eat well before you fly home next week.

I hope so, Amanda said.

Truth is, we’re cutting costs a bit, Genevieve said wearily.

Amanda laughed until her eyes were damp. So ludicrous. Where are you cutting costs? she said when she caught her breath. Your fifteen-thousand-square-foot house in Sarasota? The castle in the Alps?

A flicker of irritation over Genevieve’s face; but this, too, she quelled. Sarasota is being rented to a rapper for the year, she said. And the castle has been sold.

But. Wait. I thought that was Manfred’s family place, Amanda said.

Three centuries, Genevieve said. It couldn’t be helped.

Amanda picked up her full glass and drank and drank and put her glass down when it was empty. You really are broke, she said.