What did you say?
Bliss was paying for her new dress when she was jolted by the Visitor’s voice in her head. “Do you take Amex?” she asked the salesgirl sitting at the desk. She tried to maintain her composure while inside the Visitor’s excitement made her head ache.
Allegra is awake? Allegra is alive?
Why does this bring joy to you? Bliss asked. Why would you care? She’s just a coma patient in a hospital room.
“Did you say something?” the salesgirl asked, shoving the purple dress into a plain brown bag and stapling the top with the receipt.
“No. Sorry.” Bliss grabbed her bag and headed out of the room. She bumped into a few girls walking in. “Do they still have good stuff, or is it all picked over?” one of them asked.
“Uh . . . I don’t know,” Bliss muttered, pushing through. She knew they would think her incredibly rude, but it was as if her head were going to crack open.
Bliss raised her hand to hail a cab. It was five in the afternoon, and all the taxis had their “Off Duty” signs on—a shift switch—and worse, it was starting to rain. New York weather. For a moment she missed BobiAnne’s Silver Shadow Rolls and the driver who always took her around. Finally Bliss caught a town car that had just dropped off some executive at the corner. “How much to 168th Street?”
“Twenty.”
She got inside the car, which felt warm and cozy after standing in the suddenly freezing rain.
She could still feel the Visitor’s excitement and agitation. Why did he care? What did he care about some stupid woman in a hospital?
Show some respect, the Visitor said coldly. Do not speak of your mother that way.
So it’s true. I am her daughter. I am Allegra’s daughter, she thought. Her heart was pounding so loudly it hurt her chest a little bit.
Of course you are, the Visitor said in a reasonable voice that made Bliss feel even more nervous. We made you together. Now, I think it’s time we said a proper hello to Allegra.