Young Jane Young(28)

This was not normally something I would agree to, but the fact was, Ruby and I were both in need of a change of scenery. “It’s a nice offer,” I said to Franny, “but wouldn’t it make more sense to take your best friend?”

“I don’t have one,” she said, with an apologetic laugh. “Not one I’d want to take. I think I have trouble making close female friendships.”

“Probably because you were bullied,” I said.

“Probably so.” She laughed again.

“Or your bridesmaids?” She had four. “You could take them.”

“Three of them are Wes’s sisters, and the last one is Wes’s best friend, who is not my favorite person. I could take my aunt, but she’d cry the whole time. And I’d rather have a professional opinion.”



But she barely needed one. When it came to wedding dresses, Franny was admirably decisive. She chose the first dress she put on, which left the three of us the rest of the day to sightsee. I had the sense that she had chosen the dress before she even got to the store.

We decided to walk from the dress emporium to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was a long walk, but the day was balmy, especially compared to the weather in Maine. Ruby linked arms with Franny and me, but we kept having to switch to single file so that people could move past us.

Ruby said, “Did you know that ninety percent of men or people – I don’t remember which – don’t move out of the way when you are walking toward them on the street?”

“Where’d you learn that?” Franny said.

“My friend, Mrs. Morgan,” Ruby said. “Anyway, I always move out of the way for people, and I notice that you and Mom do it, too. But I was wondering, what would happen if I didn’t? What if I kept walking right toward them, would they eventually move?”

“I’m going to try it,” Franny said. “I’m not gonna move!” She stood very tall, and in less than a minute, a man in a business suit was walking toward her. He was about a foot away from her face when Franny darted out of the way.

“You swerved!” Ruby said. She was doubled over laughing.

“I did,” she said. “Darn it! I really thought I could do it.”

Franny frowned, and Ruby said, “Don’t be sad, Franny. Maybe we need some percentage of the people to move out of the way, otherwise the world would be in – What’s the word, Mom?”

“Anarchy,” I said.

“Anarchy,” Ruby repeated. “Maybe the people who move out of the way aren’t weak? Maybe they just don’t care?”

When we arrived at the Met, we went straight to the Temple of Dendur, which has always been one of my favorite city places. Franny was throwing a penny in the fountain when a handsomely patina-ed couple in their seventies stopped me. “We’re on vacation from Florida,” the woman said.

I could have guessed. These people were as Florida as Disney World and pink lawn flamingoes.

“We’re visiting our son and daughter-in-law. Why they want to live in the cold, I will never know. Their apartment is the size of a matchbook,” the man said.

“We were saying – I hope you won’t be offended, but you look so much like that girl,” the woman said. “The one who got into that terrible trouble with the congressman. What was her name?”

“Aviva Grossman,” I said. “I know exactly who you mean! I grew up in South Florida, and I used to get that all the time. But in Maine, where I live, no one knows who that is, and it’s such a long time ago now.”

We laughed about how funny it was to resemble an obscure figure from an ancient scandal.

“The more I look at you, the less you look like her,” the woman said.

“I mean, you’re much more attractive than her,” the man said. “Slimmer.”

“That Levin,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “He behaved very badly with that girl.”

“But he’s been a good congressman,” the husband said. “You must admit that.”

“I will admit nothing about that man,” the wife said. “The girl did not behave well, but the man, what he did was —” She shook her head. “No good.”

“The girl knew he was married so she got what was coming to her,” the husband said.

“You would think that,” said the wife.

“That woman he was married to, though,” the husband said. “She was a piece of work. You could make ice on her ass.”

“I wonder whatever happened to the girl,” she said.

“Handbags,” said the husband with authority.

“Handbags?” the wife asked.

“She went into handbags,” he said. “Or hand-knit scarves.”

“I think that was Monica Lewinsky,” I said, and then I excused myself. “Safe travels,” I said.

I went over to where Ruby and Franny were sitting. “Who’s Aviva Grossman?” Ruby asked.





EIGHT





W

hen we got back to the hotel, Wes was waiting in the lobby. “Surprise,” he said, and he kissed Franny on the cheek.

“Oh gosh,” Franny said. “What are you doing here?”

“Wes,” I said. “Nice to see you. This is my daughter, Ruby.”