Summer and the City

That’s it. Capote jerks on the ends of his bow tie, nearly choking himself. “Why are you here?”

I lean back against the cushions. “What’s the name of the town L’il comes from?”

“Why?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “I need to know. I want to get in touch with her. She left New York, in case you don’t know.”

“As a matter of fact, I do know. Which you would have known as well if you bothered to come to class today.”

I sit up, eager for information. “What happened?”

“Viktor made an announcement that she’d left. To pursue other interests.”

“Don’t you find that strange?”

“Why?”

“Because L’il’s only interest is writing. She’d never give up class.”

“Maybe she had family issues.”

“You’re not even curious?”

“Look, Carrie,” he snaps. “Right now my only concern is not being late. I’ve got to pick up Rainbow-”

“All I want is the name of L’il’s hometown,” I say, becoming officious.

“I’m not sure. It’s either Montgomery or Macon.”

“I thought you knew her,” I say accusingly, although I suspect my disdain might actually be about Rainbow. I guess he’s seeing her after all. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do.

I rise. “Have fun at the gala,” I add, with a dismissive smile.

Suddenly, I hate New York. No, scratch that. I don’t hate New York. I only hate some of the people in it.

There are listings for three Waterses in Montgomery County and two in Macon. I start with Macon, and get L’il’s aunt on the first try. She’s nice as can be, and gives me L’il’s number.

L’il is shocked to hear my voice, and not, I suspect, altogether pleased, although her lack of enthusiasm could be due to embarrassment at having abandoned New York. “I went by your apartment,” I say, my voice filled with concern. “The girl there said you moved back home.”

“I had to get away.”

“Why? Because of Peggy? You could have moved in with me.” No response. “You’re not sick, are you?” I ask, my voice pitched with worry.

She sighs. “Not in the traditional sense, no.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers.

“But L’il,” I insist. “What about writing? You can’t just quit New York.”

There’s a pause. Then she says stiffly, “New York is not for me.” I hear a muffled sob as if she’s put her hand over the receiver. “I have to go, Carrie.”

And suddenly, I put two and two together. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. It was so obvious. I simply never imagined that anyone could be attracted to him.

I feel sick. “Is it Viktor?”

“No!” she cries.

“It is Viktor. Why didn’t you tell me? What happened? Were you seeing him?”

“He broke my heart.”

I’m stunned. I still can’t believe L’il was having an affair with Viktor Greene and his ridiculous mustache. How could anyone even kiss the guy with that big bushy Waldo in the way? And on top of it, to have him break your heart?

“Oh, L’il. How awful. You can’t let him force you out of class. Plenty of women have affairs with their professors. It’s never a good idea. But sometimes the best thing to do is to pretend it didn’t happen,” I add in a rush, thinking briefly about Capote and how we’re both behaving as if we never kissed.

“It’s more than that, Carrie,” she says ominously.

“Of course it is. I mean, I’m sure you thought you were in love with him. But really, L’il, he’s not worth it. He’s just some weird loser guy who happened to win a book award,” I ramble on. “And six months from now when you’ve published more poems in The New Yorker and won awards yourself, you won’t even remember him.”

“Unfortunately, I will.”

“Why?” I ask dumbly.

“I got pregnant,” she says.

That shuts me up.

“Are you there?” she asks.

“With Viktor?” My voice trembles.

“Who else?” she hisses.

“Oh, L’il.” I crumple in sympathy. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“I got rid of it,” she says harshly.

“Oh.” I hesitate. “Maybe it’s for the better.”

“I’ll never know, will I?”

“These things happen,” I say, trying to soothe her.

“He made me get rid of it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling her agony.

“He didn’t even ask if I wanted it. There was no discussion. He just assumed. He assumed-” She breaks off, unable to continue.

“L’il,” I whisper.

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m only nineteen. I shouldn’t have a child. And I probably would have… taken care of it. But I didn’t have a choice.”

“He forced you to have an abortion?”

“Pretty much. He made the appointment at the clinic. He took me there. Paid for it. And then he sat in the waiting room while I had it done.”

“Oh my God, L’il. Why didn’t you run out of there?”

“I didn’t have the guts. I knew it was the right thing to do, but-”

“Did it hurt?” I ask.

“No,” she says simply. “That was the weirdest thing. It didn’t hurt and afterward, I felt fine. Like I was back to my old self. I was relieved . But then I started thinking. And I realized how terrible it was. Not the abortion necessarily, but the way he’d behaved. Like it was a foregone conclusion. I realized he couldn’t have loved me at all. How can a man love you if he won’t even consider having a baby with you?”

“I don’t know, L’il-”

“It’s black-and-white, Carrie,” she says, her voice rising. “You cannot even pretend anymore. And even if I could, we’d always have this thing between us. Knowing that I was pregnant with his child and he didn’t want it .”

I shudder. “But maybe after a while… you could come back?” I ask carefully.

“Oh, Carrie.” She sighs. “Don’t you get it? I’m never coming back. I don’t even want to know people like Viktor Greene. I wish I’d never come to New York in the first place.” And with a painful cry, she hangs up.

I sit there twisting the phone cord in despair. Why L’il? She’s not the type of person I’d imagine this happening to, but on the other hand, who is? There’s a terrible finality about her actions that’s frightening.

I put my head in my hands. Maybe L’il is right about New York. She came here to win and the city beat her. I’m terrified. If this could happen to L’il, it could happen to anyone. Including myself.