Louise has started to admit that she will not go back to Santa Barbara. She will not be pursuing that dream of toasting champagne glasses with the rich and beautiful, of being part of some glittering crowd. In Montecito her face and body would be met with confusion by her newspaper boss, who hired her to cover dog shows and “Beat Hunger” 5Ks—how could she interview people with an eye patch on, clutching a cane? How could she eat tapas next to an aging supermodel, when it was hard enough to show her face to her own friends? People in Montecito do not want to be confronted with disability. They want to believe that perfection can be achieved by plastic surgery and the right agent.
Maybe she should get a job in a hospital, she thinks, and be a receptionist or an orderly. Or go to culinary school—she enjoys helping Elizabeth make pastries with spun-sugar wraps. She likes to read, so maybe there is something in that.