Part 2 (1/2)
She had, however, gone through two of the bottles of wine already. Lately she'd been treating herself to a gla.s.s of wine at bedtime. It helped her relax and fall asleep, and took her mind off the hodgepodge of questions that seemed to creep in whenever she let down her guard: Kurt, the Peace Corps, school, and most of all the constant tension in her family. Frankly, all of it made her sick sometimes.
Emma opened a bottle of chardonnay she'd been saving for a special occasion, poured a gla.s.s, and took it with her to change for bed. After slipping into her favorite Chinese silk pajamas, Emma walked back over the lush oyster-sh.e.l.l- colored carpet to the living room, where she flicked on her favorite cla.s.sical station. She savored the wine. This is definitely helping to clear my thoughts, she said to herself.
She now considered her father's offer from a new perspective. Wouldn't spring break on Sunset Island and a romantic rendezvous with Kurt be improved by a snappy new convertible? At the height of the previous summer's relations.h.i.+p, Emma would have said that Kurt was way too down to earth to be impressed by something as superficial as a new car. Then Diana De Witt had whisked him off to New York for a dream week- end on her bankroll, and Emma had learned a bitter truth: even people who insist they aren't influenced by money can fall prey to the lure of the almighty dollar.
Of course, if Kurt was still enthralled by that kind of display, Emma really didn't want him.
Still, it might not hurt to make a good impres- sion. Though she'd dated a few different guys since she'd begun college, no one could compare to Kurt. Just the thought of his blue eyes and the memory of his arms around her made her feel that her heart was still imprisoned by the magic of the previous summer.
But it was a scary way to feel. It made her feel too vulnerable. And no matter what Kurt's letter said, there was always the possibility that she cared about him more than he cared about her. So if she showed up in an incredibly hot new car, just maybe it would make it seem that her life without him was more exciting than it really had been.
Surprised to see that she'd just about finished her wine, Emma went to the refrigerator for a touch more. She had pulled the cork and was lifting the bottle when she recalled hearing-or had she read it somewhere?-that drinking alone was a warning sign of alcoholism. Ridiculous, she thought, / hardly drink at all! Still, she was careful to fill the gla.s.s only halfway this time.
Her parents had never thought twice about ordering her a gla.s.s of wine at any of their fancy restaurants or resorts. And certainly it had been available at all of the parties they had attended.
Screwed up as her mother and father were, Emma reflected, they were not alcoholics. When Emma's childhood companion Trent Hayden-Bishop, had deemed to make up for the trouble he had caused her on Sunset Island the summer before, sending her a very convincing ID stating her age as twenty-one, Emma hadn't hesitated to slip it into the inner pocket of her wallet. The fact was, people were generally impressed by her poise and obvious wealth, and a.s.sumed she was of legal drinking age anyway. They rarely asked her for identification.
Savoring each sip (she'd have to remember this vintage, it really was good), she settled back on the couch to think through her travel plans. She could always make a very, very short visit to her father, pick out a car, then scoop up Sam on the way north through Orlando. Wouldn't Sam just love a road trip in a brand-new, to-die-for con- vertible?
The thought of looking cool, rich, and carefree in Sam's eyes pleased Emma somehow. Sam was so good at grabbing the reins of her life and galloping ahead. Emma had to admit she envied her for that.
Suddenly she couldn't wait for the scheduled conference call with her friends. She was going to take up her dear daddy's offer, and she was going to plan the entire trip!
Emma took one more sip, set her winegla.s.s carefully on one of the hand-woven coasters she'd bought to protect her new mahogany coffee table, and reached for the phone.
”It's confession time, Ms. Goody Two Shoes!”
It was early the next morning, and Emma's voice was teasing over the phone, but Carrie felt like her brain wouldn't kick in until she'd had a shower and two or three cups of coffee.
”Huh?” was her sterling response.
”I must have left you four messages last night!”
Emma cried, ”then I finally gave up somewhere past the witching hour. So was it Josh, or Billy, or someone new?”
Carrie cleared her throat and wiped her eyes blearily with the back of her hand. ”As a matter of fact, I was in the darkroom until seven, the library until it closed at eleven, and downstairs in the study room until almost two.”
”Yale's tough, huh?” Emma said compa.s.sion- ately.
”Nothing I can't handle,” Carrie a.s.sured her.
”So what were these frantic phone calls about?”
”A great idea I wanted to run by you and Sam,”
Emma said eagerly. ”I finally found Sam after eleven. I was bursting by that time!”
”So what is it?” Carrie asked.
”Could I interest you in a plan that would take us to Sunset Island in high style?”
”Sure,” ventured Carrie, ”let's hear it.”
Quickly Emma filled Carrie in on her conver- sation with her father. She'd planned on asking for some words of wisdom about her mother's call, too-Carrie was so level-headed-but Emma decided that with Carrie working so hard at school, it really wasn't fair to ask for free mental- health counseling.
”A new car!” Carrie cried. ”That's great! You mean you're going to drive it to Sunset Island?”
”We're all taking it to Sunset Island-that is, if you guys agree,” Emma answered. ”Here's the plan. First I'll fly to Palm Beach and pick up the car, then I'll drive to Orlando and get Sam.”
”You mean you'll pick up the car and meet Valerie,” Carrie corrected Emma. ”You left out that detail.” Emma had told Carrie about her father's girlfriend months earlier, and Carrie knew that the last thing Emma wanted to do was to actually meet the woman.
”Silly me,” Emma said in a flat voice. ”Did I forget to mention that trivial thing?”
”Maybe it won't be as bad as you think,” Carrie said. ”Maybe she's . . . nice.”
”And maybe she's loathsome,” Emma responded.
”My father put her on the phone with me once.
Carrie, she squeaked.”
”Bad sign,” Carrie said solemnly.
”I sort of wish Sam could come to Palm Beach with me,” Emma admitted. ”I don't really want to face Valerie alone-but she can't get away from Disney World any earlier.”
”Just as well,” said Carrie. ”Sam is not known for her tact, so she might just stick her foot in her mouth and make the whole thing worse. On the other hand, maybe Valerie will turn out to be a decent person.”
”There you go,” Emma quipped, ”being nice and giving people the benefit of the doubt. You've got to stop that.”
Carrie laughed. ”But maybe she really is nor- mal!”
”Right,” Emma scoffed. ”She's only a few years older than we are. Can you see yourself marrying an insecure guy old enough to be your father?”
”Not really,” Carrie admitted.
”I rest my case,” Emma said. ”Valerie is defi- nitely in it for the bucks, and it makes me sick.”
Carrie sensed the conversation drifting into rough waters. Fortunately she was adept at steering a smoother course. ”So, anyway, where do I fit into this travelogue of yours?”
”Of course we can pick you up in New Haven, but I wish you'd think about meeting us in Orlando. Sam thinks we should check out Day- tona on the way up.”
”I wish,” said Carrie wistfully. ”But I don't see how I'm going to meet all my deadlines as it is.
You'll just have to give me the gory details once you get here. Which, by the way, will be when?”
Since Emma started spring break one week ahead of Carrie, they agreed to meet in New Haven the following Friday. They decided on an early lunch at the Hummingbird, one of Carrie's favorite near-campus cafes. That would give Carrie the morning to tidy up loose ends, and the trio could still make Boston for an overnight stay at Emma's apartment. The following day would put them easily into Portland with time to catch the ferry to Sunset Island.
”We'll arrive in time to see the sunset on the island.” Carrie sighed longingly. ”It's hard to believe this is really going to happen!” She glanced over at her clock. Eight-thirty! She still had to shower, dress, and make a stop at the Yale Daily News office before her first cla.s.s. ”I've got to fly, Em!”
”I can't wait to see you!” Emma told Carrie.