“Because I prefer to communicate in person!” says Caspian. Freddie tosses his phone into the box, though.
After I’ve collected the remaining phones, I lock the box and return it to the foyer.
“Time for dessert?” Sam asks.
“Time for Czarina’s champagne collection,” says KK.
“Seconded,” says Parker.
Sam goes toward the kitchen, while I lead the group into the living room as thunder rumbles outside like God is juggling boulders in the sky and threatening to slam them down onto Manhattan in one apocalyptic seizure.
Li Zhang pales as the rumble gets louder. “Thunder terrifies me.”
I sit her down on Czarina’s most comfortable chair not facing the window. “Sam will play piano for us after dessert. That will drown out the noise.” I’m remembering a birthday dinner at Czarina’s when Sam and I turned ten. He was just starting to get good on the piano. There was a terrifying thunderstorm going on outside. Sam sat down at the piano to soothe everyone’s nerves. I couldn’t stand the attention his music playing was getting, so I started doing cartwheels and handsprings around the piano. I had a poor landing on one, shaking the floor so hard, it caused the fallboard—which covers the keys when the piano isn’t in use—to come down hard onto Sam’s fingers. He honestly was not that hurt—maybe there was a bruised fingernail—but I got sent to Czarina’s room as punishment for the duration of the party. No cake for Ilsa.
I’ll behave better this time.
Parker says, “The sweetest sound ever; you’ll love it.” I give him a look, to test if our psychic connection still works. It does! He sits down on the floor by Li Zhang, to make her feel reassured in the storm, which I’d like all my guests except Jason to feel.
“Who wants coffee? Who wants tea?” Jason asks the group. He turns to me. “You’re supposed to offer these to your guests, Ilsa.”
KK reaches over to Czarina’s lacquer china cabinet. “Nobody cares about tea, Jason.”
“I wouldn’t mind some tea,” says Johan.
I say, “Find Sam in the kitchen. He’ll show you where the tea is.” I should bring him the tea myself, of course. I’m a terrible hostess, I know. I hope Johan doesn’t post Yelp reviews. But I’m fickle. Johan’s lost his status as my favorite guest (hello, Caspian). Johan can get his own damn tea.
KK pulls out the one full bottle of brandy that we haven’t topped off with water since previous dinner parties. “Now we have a party,” says KK. She takes out Czarina’s brandy glasses and places them on the coffee table in front of the long sofa, where Jason and Freddie have sat down, Jason on one end, and Caspian idling upright over Freddie’s elbow on the sofa’s arm at the other end. “Who’s in?” she asks, about to pour.
My hand goes up, along with those of Parker, Li Zhang, and Caspian, who bobs up and down. “Single shot or double shot?” KK asks Freddie/Caspian.
“Double,” says Caspian.
While she’s pouring, Sam enters the living room. “Ta-da!” he announces. He places the lemon tart on the other end of the coffee table for everyone to admire. “Lemon tart for dessert.”
“It’s green!” cries out Caspian. “Are you sure it’s not a lime tart?”
Sam appears crestfallen. “The lemons at Fairway weren’t that great when I went shopping this morning. But I didn’t think it looked that bad.”
“It looks amazing,” says Parker, giving everyone else The Look.
The tart doesn’t look green, in all fairness. But it doesn’t look exactly lemony, either, in all honesty.
“So good,” Li Zhang affirms.
“Yummy,” I say.
“Can’t wait,” says Jason.
“Allergic,” pipes in Caspian.
“Nah,” says KK.
All of a sudden, a bloodcurdling bolt of lightning cracks across the sky. Caspian lets out his signature shriek. Li Zhang looks terrified. “That was nothing,” says Parker, trying to keep the mood calm.
But it wasn’t nothing. Because then the power goes out. We’re left sitting in the living room with no light—and no light coming from the street or other buildings, either. I look out the window: darkness, except for car lights. It’s not just our building that’s lost power. In that darkness I have a flash vision of what later tonight could be like, if I go downtown with Parker to compete in a dance contest. It’s funny; I can’t see me going. Not because I don’t want to dance with Parker. Because I don’t feel the need to prove I can.
Sam immediately goes into Boy Scout mode. “Everyone stay seated till I find Czarina’s emergency supply box in the coat closet.” I hear him walking toward the foyer, and it’s true that he could probably find his way across Czarina’s apartment blindfolded—there are no sounds of him bumping any furniture or knocking over glasses or other trinkets. He reaches the foyer and calls out, “Ilsa, what’s the combination for Czarina’s lockbox? I found a small flashlight, but it’s flickering—I think the battery is just about dead. But I can use it to open the lockbox, and then we can use the flashlights on our phones.”
“Zero-one-one-eight!” I call out. I see the faintest flicker of light coming from the foyer.
“Our birthday—of course!” Sam calls out. January eighteenth. “Are you sure that’s the number, Ilsa? It’s not working.”
“I’m sure. Unless Czarina changed it after that dinner where Dad stole his phone back to check the basketball score.” “She must have changed it. Stupid Dad! Why couldn’t he just have ignored the game for an hour?”
“It was the March Madness Final Four game!” I remind Sam. “Syracuse was playing.”
“You don’t mess with a man’s phone during that time,” Parker intones.
“Agreed,” says Caspian or Freddie, I’m not sure which.
“Shit, the flashlight’s burned out,” says Sam.
“I’m scared,” says Li Zhang.
I sit down on the carpet and use the smell of delicious Parker to crawl my way to her other side, my knee knocking against Parker’s, making me truly weak in the knees.
“It’s okay,” I tell Li Zhang. “I’m sure the power will be back on any minute.”
The vengeful deity in the sky has
