The Geography of You and Me(22)

“It was dark,” she said, and Mom laughed. “I was actually in the elevator when it happened.”

“We heard,” Dad said. “The boys told us.”

Lucy had called her brothers the very next day, first Charlie and then Ben, and she’d told them about climbing out of the elevator and walking up and down the stairwells; she’d told them about the doormen running around with flashlights and the masses of people moving through the streets; she’d told them about the free ice cream and the stars overhead and the heat. But she hadn’t told them about Owen. Part of it was self-preservation—she knew Ben would tease her endlessly and Charlie would get overprotective—but part of it was instinct, too. It would have been like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake and then immediately announcing what you’d wished for; logical or not, saying it out loud made it seem less likely to come true.

“Was it awful?” Mom was asking, her eyes wide with worry.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Lucy said with a smile, hoping they didn’t notice the pink that crept into her cheeks. “We were only in there for, like, half an hour.” She paused, realizing for the first time that it was true—it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. How had it felt like so much more? “The worst part was the heat,” she continued. “That was pretty horrible.”

They both nodded, like they wanted to hear more, but she thought she noticed Dad sneak a glance at his watch, and Mom’s foot had started to bob in the way it did sometimes when guests at their dinner parties were still there even after the coffee cups had been cleared.

“You should have seen it, though,” Lucy pressed on. “The whole skyline just blinked out. And all the streets were completely full of people. It was unbelievable.”

This time, Dad didn’t bother to disguise it when he looked at his watch, and Mom cleared her throat. “Listen, darling,” she said. “We want to hear a lot more about all this at dinner tonight, but we figured you’d want to nap, so we thought we’d head out for a little while.”

“Oh,” Lucy said. “Where?”

Dad looked up, his face a picture of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Lucy said, raising her eyebrows, “where are you planning to go?”

“We made some plans before we knew you’d be here, too,” Mom said, giving Dad a sideways glance. “I’m getting my hair done, and your father has… a meeting.”

Lucy turned back to him, but he seemed suddenly interested in his shoes. “Well, where is it? Maybe I’ll tag along, go explore a new neighborhood…”

He coughed, his face reddening. “We just assumed you’d be tired.”

“I slept on the plane,” she said, and they exchanged a look. “Okay, seriously,” she said, glancing from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Dad started to say, but Mom rolled her eyes.

“Let’s just tell her now.”

“Tell me what?” Lucy asked, suddenly anxious.

Dad was playing with his wedding ring, a nervous habit of his. “We were going to wait for dinner.…”

“Listen,” Mom said, taking one of Lucy’s hands in hers. “You know how much I miss it over here.”

Lucy nodded, frowning.

“And you know that we’d always planned to live abroad again once the three of you were off to university, right?”

This was true. Ever since she was little, Mom had spoken dreamily of returning to London. She’d never really been at home in New York, where she found the summers too hot and the people too rude, the garbage too visible and the culture too limited. It had only ever been a matter of time before they moved back to London, where they’d first met all those years ago, and Lucy and her brothers had always known this. But they’d promised it wouldn’t be until all three kids had left for college. Now, however, Mom was giving Lucy a pleading look, though whether for understanding or forgiveness, she didn’t know.

“Well,” she was saying, her voice a bit too bright, “an opportunity has come up a little early.”

“They called me about an open position in the UK office,” Dad jumped in, his eyes shining behind his glasses. “I’d heard rumors about it, but it’s very, very high level, so I didn’t think I’d have a shot.…”

“But it looks like he might,” Mom finished, looking at him proudly. “And it won’t be long now until we find out for sure.”

“Right,” Dad said. “Just a few more meetings today, and then we’ll see.…”

Lucy stared at him. “So we’d be moving to London?”

“Yes,” Dad said, beaming.

“Next year?”

Mom shook her head. “Next month.”

“Next month?” Lucy asked, reeling a bit. She could feel that her voice had risen an octave and her eyes had gone wide, but she couldn’t help it. Next month, she thought, astonished by the nearness of it.

“It wouldn’t be—” Dad began, but Lucy cut him off.

“What about the apartment?”

“Well, we’d keep it, of course,” he said. “In case we wanted to go back for the summer, or if the boys ended up with internships there…”