“Now what?” Talia says in the car on the way home from South Beach. “If I am not beautiful enough to be a model…”
“You’re plenty beautiful,” I say.
“You wouldn’t want to be a model, anyway,” Meryl says. “It’s dopey and vain.”
But I notice she’s actually pushed her hair out of her face since that freaky Rafael told her she could be one. And she’s been looking in the rearview all the way home, too.
“But what else can I do?” Talia whines.
“Um, you can speak four languages,” Meryl says. “You know all about art, and you’re some kind of expert in diplomacy.”
“But for a sixteen-year-old without a high school diploma,” I say, “it’s hard getting a job doing those things.”
Talia stares out at the water a long time, saying nothing. When she does, she says, “The water here is so blue, like the sapphires in one of Grandmother’s necklaces. I used to sneak into Mother’s chamber when I was small and try it on. I dreamed of growing up one day to wear it myself. Now I never shall.” She looks at me. “Perhaps I should return to Euphrasia.”
“To where?” Meryl says.
“Home,” Talia says. “To…Belgium.”
“Why’d you leave in the first place?”
Talia exchanges a glance with me. “It is a long story.”
I glance back to say, Don’t tell it.
“I broke a rule,” Talia says, consolidating the long story into a single sentence. “There were horrible consequences, and my father was terribly disappointed in me. He said he wished I had never been born.”
“Harsh,” Meryl says. “What kind of rule was it—like a curfew or failing in school? Scratch that—you’d never fail in school.”
“Not exactly,” both Talia and I say together.
“Did you, like, sneak out at night with someone?”
“No,” Talia says. “I never sneaked. I was watched constantly, for they were worried I would be pricked with a spindle.” I give her a look, and she says, “I mean, that my purity would be compromised.”
“Did you wreck your parents’ car?” Meryl says.
Talia laughs. “Definitely not that.”
“Smoke pot? Get drunk?”
“No,” I tell her. “Stop asking.”
But Meryl keeps on going, ignoring me. “You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”
“Of course not, Meryl!” I say.
“Because Jack’s done all those things—except killing someone—and my parents keep forgiving him, anyway.”
“Is that true?” Talia says.
“Once, Jack and Travis got picked up by the police for egging cars on Eighty-second Avenue. And one of the cars he egged was the president of Mom’s garden club.”
“Meryl,” I say. “We don’t need to talk about—”
“So the doorbell rings at midnight,” Meryl continues. “Mom opens it in her robe, and there’s two cops standing there. They had a tip from a cashier at Publix that some teenage boys were in there buying ten dozen eggs. The cashier didn’t think they were making a soufflé with them, so she called the cops.”
“Meryl, will you please shut—”
“You threw food at passing cars?” Talia says.
“Just eggs,” I say, glaring at Meryl. “Everyone does stuff like that.”
“But a hundred and twenty eggs could feed ten families or ward off starvation in the wintertime when food is scarce. Do you have any idea how many hens it would take to lay ten dozen eggs?”
“Yeah, Jack,” Meryl says, grinning. “Do you know how many hens?”
Talia keeps going. “It seems dreadfully wasteful and thoughtless to throw them—particularly at another person’s property.”
“That’s my brother, Jack, Mr. Wasteful and Thoughtless.”
“I didn’t take them away from starving people,” I tell Talia. “I bought them.” I never thought about the eggs being food for someone before. How does Talia think of this stuff? Not one other person I know would think about wasting the eggs—not even my parents. When you think of it that way, it does sound sort of…“Okay, it was stupid.”
“Very,” Talia agrees.
“Jack’s always doing dumb stuff,” Meryl says. “And my parents always forgive him.”
“Forgive?” I laugh. “They don’t even notice. They never notice anything I do.”
“They notice plenty,” Meryl says. “You don’t have a bedroom next to theirs, so you didn’t hear them every night for a week, discussing whether to send you to a child psychologist or military school.”
“Military school?” The idea makes me shudder.
“And every time Mom ran into Mrs. Owens—that’s the lady whose car Jack egged—she asked Mom if she was getting dear Jack ‘the help he needs and deserves.’ Mom was totally humiliated.”
“I can imagine,” Talia says. “Poor lady.”
“It was a long time ago,” I say. “Can’t we talk about the dumb stuff you’ve done?” Why does she have to embarrass me in front of Talia? I don’t embarrass her in front of her friends. At least I wouldn’t, if she had friends.
“I never got picked up by the cops.”
“You’re young. There’s still time. Besides, you’re learning from my mistakes.”
“Are you proud of being a bad example?”
“Be quiet.”
But still it’s weird. I always thought my parents didn’t much care what I did, just wanted me out of their way. Could I have been so wrong about that?
“Parents always forgive you,” Meryl says. “Like sometimes, you see parents on the news, and their kid just got busted for murdering a 7-Eleven clerk, and they’re like, ‘But my Bubba’s a good boy. He’d never hurt a fly.’ So I’m sure your parents would forgive you for whatever you did.”
Talia looks out the window. We’ve crossed the bridge, and now there’s nothing interesting to look at, just gray office buildings on both sides. I remember the beautiful castle and scenery in Euphrasia. Finally, she says, “Do you think so, Jack?”
“I’m not sure.” Talia’s father seemed like a real stickler, even for a king, and he did say all that crummy stuff to her. But maybe Meryl’s right (there has to be a first time for everything). Maybe he’d forgive her, even for ruining their entire country. They’re probably worried sick about her—especially considering they don’t have any phone or email or even a radio. So it’s really like she disappeared into a black hole. But I don’t want her to leave.
Talia might have been a little annoying at first. Okay, she was completely impossible. But I realize that’s just because she’s not like anyone I’ve ever known before. No one I know would think of the eggs as…well, eggs.
If she were gone, I’d miss her.
And I guess I’m feeling a little selfish when I say, “I don’t know. But we have six more days, so maybe you should think a little more about it.”
Talia nods. “I suppose you are right.”