Penelope (19 page)

“Bitty!” yelled Emma. She disentangled herself from Evan and ran toward her. Bitty was balanced on the corner of a Queen Anne end table sipping a glass of white wine. She was wearing an ivory-colored cashmere sweater and pearls. She had such an aggressive plainness about her, down to her unadorned hair and well-defined jaw, that it almost substituted for glamour.

“Emma!” said Bitty. She spoke in a gravelly voice, like she had just stopped shouting. They hugged. Evan ambled away and sat on a nearby settee.

“How was the Pudding?” said Emma.

“Fine,” said Bitty. “I mean, boring as usual. We left early.”

“Where’s Katrina?” asked Emma.

“Oh, she’s playing backgammon with Roger,” said Bitty with a wave of her hand.

“Katrina is so hilarious,” said Emma.

“She really is,” said Bitty. “Emma, have you met Leslie Danforth?” Bitty gestured to a man standing next to her with eyebrows so blond they were invisible.

“Nice to meet you,” said Emma.

“Does anyone want a drink?” asked Leslie Danforth.

“I think we all would,” said Bitty. “Another one of these for me.” She tipped her glass toward Leslie Danforth, who gallantly took it.

“All right,” said Leslie Danforth, and walked away.

“He’s a blast!” said Bitty.

“Doesn’t his father own one of the British Virgin Islands?” asked Emma.

“His father is really involved with public radio,” said Bitty in a warning tone. “They’re great friends of ours.”

“Oh,” said Emma.

“We’re going on vacation with them, actually, over Christmas break. To the Virgin Islands.”

“That will be amazing,” said Emma.

“It really will,” said Bitty. “We’re also going with Amelia Lucey. Do you known Amelia Lucey?”

“It sounds familiar,” said Emma.

“She’s in the Pudding,” said Bitty. “Went to Exeter. She’s hilarious. It’s going to be a fantastic trip.”

“Oh, I know her now that you say it,” said Emma. “She is hilarious.”

Leslie Danforth came back with the drinks.

“A white wine for you, a scotch for you, Emma, oh, and I’m sorry, I didn’t see your friend back there. I didn’t get you anything,” said Leslie.

“Oh, yes, Emma, who’s your friend?” said Bitty.

“Oh, this is my roommate,” said Emma. “Penelope.”

“Hi,” said Penelope. “We’re in the play together.”

“We are?” said Bitty.

“I play a guard,” said Penelope.

“Do you need me to run back and get you a drink?” asked Leslie Danforth.

“Oh, I can get it myself,” said Penelope. She walked toward where Leslie got the drinks from—a small mahogany-paneled study connected via pocket door to the antique board games room. In the study, there were three men in tuxedos smoking cigars.

“So what have you been up to?” said one of the men in tuxedos to another. Penelope could not see who was speaking, because she was busy making herself a mixture of rum, tonic water, and orange juice at the makeshift bar in the back of the room.

“I’ve been so busy with my new business. I’m working on a startup,” said one of the other tuxedo-clad fellows. “It’s an Internet-based company that’s like Facebook but lets people with ecological businesses connect to one another.”

“That’s a great idea,” said the first tuxedo.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” said the second tuxedo. “I think it really could be big.”

“I agree,” said the third tuxedo, a voice that could only be Gustav’s. Penelope almost spilled her drink but still did not turn around. “All those ecological fellows need to connect to one another. Really, I know at least four. They are crying out for a system.”

“Exactly,” said the first tuxedo.

Penelope turned away from the bar and slowly walked by Gustav and his friends on the way to the door. Gustav looked intensely handsome, so handsome that Penelope thought she couldn’t realistically stay around much longer without mishap. Gustav did not seem to notice her. He was untying his bow tie when she left.

When Penelope returned to the antique board games room, Emma and Bitty were gone, and Leslie Danforth was playing a Chopin nocturne on the piano. Penelope briefly considered looking for her lost compatriots but decided against it. Neither of them seemed to like her very much, and Penelope’s mother had recently given her a lecture about not hanging around with people who seemed like they were annoyed with her, as that would make them more annoyed. So instead she sat on the settee directly under the outstretched claws of the stuffed bear. She took a book out of her bag and set it down next to her. She sipped her drink. It tasted mostly of tonic water.

About fifteen minutes after Penelope settled herself in her seat, Gustav entered the room, cigar still in hand. He sat on an ottoman quite near Penelope’s settee. He texted someone for a long time. Penelope kept her eyes bolted on Leslie Danforth, who was given to very elaborate hand gestures and closed eyes while playing piano.

Suddenly Gustav spoke.

“Are you reading?” he said to someone. Penelope kept looking at Leslie Danforth.

“You, in that sort of frilly neck thing, are you reading?”

Penelope whipped her head around. Apparently, Gustav was addressing her. He had turned his body completely in her direction and was staring at her.

“No,” said Penelope.

“Then why is there a book lying next to you on the couch?”

“Well, eventually, I was preparing to read,” said Penelope. “I think.”

“Harrumph,” said Gustav. “That seems rather antisocial.”

“I was thinking of reading aloud,” said Penelope. “To everyone.”

“But how would anyone hear you over the din of the piano?” asked Gustav.

“I would shout,” said Penelope.

Gustav shook his head. Then he turned away to watch Leslie Danforth, who could, apparently, play only one Chopin nocturne. Periodically, people clapped for Leslie Danforth, but he did not let accolades distract him from his task. He would bow and start again, like a player piano. Penelope assumed her conversation with Gustav was over. He had started to look at his phone again. She gave herself permission to exhale, and was inwardly rebuking herself for the reading aloud comment, when Gustav spoke again.

“My God,” Gustav said suddenly. “Are you twiddling your thumbs?”

“No,” said Penelope.

“I just saw you,” said Gustav.

“Well,” said Penelope, “to be honest, I think there is something wrong with my drink. I was warming up before I took another sip of it.”

“Very wise,” said Gustav, “to exercise one’s hands before drinking. Mind if I try it?” He moved onto Penelope’s couch.

“I really don’t think you will like it at all,” said Penelope. She handed it to him. He took a sip.

“Why that’s absolutely vile!” said Gustav. He coughed. “What is even in that?”

“Quinine,” said Penelope.

“I should say so,” said Gustav. “Plus rum? That is a disgrace to the art of drinking.”

“The good thing is, though, you will not get malaria,” said Penelope.

“Exceedingly smart,” said Gustav. “One always must be prepared for the demmed mosquitos and a revolt in the mines, as my grandfather used to say. You aren’t by any chance in my Counting People section, are you?”

“I don’t know,” said Penelope. “Or at least, I don’t think so. I don’t remember.”

“Do you have Jared?” asked Gustav.

“Yes,” said Penelope.

“See? I knew it. I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” said Gustav. “Why haven’t I seen you around before? Do you go to the S— much?”

“No,” said Penelope. “This is my first time.”

“Who brought you here?”

“My roommate Emma. We came to meet her friend Bitty. I am in a play with both of them.”

“You are in that awful production of
Caligula
? Oh, you can’t be serious!”

“I play a guard,” said Penelope.

“
Caligula
! Oh that is too humorous,” said Gustav, laughing. “The one with two Caligulas.”

“I sort of got roped into it,” said Penelope. “The director—”

“Oh my God,” said Gustav. “That horrid little man. My father knew him for some odd reason and so I went to a play of his once. The demmed thing made no sense. It was a foreign play, but he had translated it, and, my God, it sounded like a machine had translated it and done quite a bad job, even for a machine.”

“That’s what I think too!” said Penelope. She felt oddly triumphant.

“You see, I was almost roped into being in that play. Bitty is a rather good friend of mine. But last time I was in a play, I starred as Baby Jesus, and you can only go downhill from there.
I made it a policy to do no more drama unless I reprise the role I originated.”

“That seems fair,” said Penelope.

Gustav looked at Penelope appraisingly. “Are you having a good time here?” he asked.

“Oh, sure,” said Penelope.

“Really? I feel I can make the safe assumption that you are not having a very good time. From the thumb twiddling. And the reading as well. Have you danced yet?” asked Gustav.

“No,” said Penelope.

“Do you want to?” asked Gustav.

“Maybe. I am a pretty bad dancer,” said Penelope.

“You’re in luck because I am an excellent dancer,” said Gustav. “I will lead you around the floor by your hind legs.”

“That sounds more like a race,” said Penelope.

“Penelope! There you are,” said Emma from across the room. She had come back. Bitty was nowhere to be seen. Emma strode over to Gustav and Penelope, arms outstretched. “And you’ve found Gustav!”

“Oh, hello, Emma,” said Gustav stiffly. He stood up.

“Gustav!” said Emma, hugging him. “Did you have fun in Abu Dhabi?”

“Quite,” said Gustav. “How charming to see you.”

“Ha ha,” laughed Emma. “So are you nearing a final decision in the punch process?”

“That is what they say. I took a couple of punches to Tanzania the other weekend. Flew them around in the old helicopter. Seemed as if they enjoyed it. I always had the sneaking suspicion that some of them wore hairpieces.”

“Who did you take?” asked Emma.

“All the ones I was worried wore hairpieces. Helicopter’s the real test. Certainly, we can’t have that kind of element in the club.”

“A baldness element?” asked Penelope.

“Oh, yes, Penelope. That sort of thing can be quite subversive if left unchecked.”

“What?” said Emma. She did her hooting laugh, this time in a high, piercing register that blocked out the sounds of the piano and all ambient conversation. “Anyway, Penelope, I need you to come down and dance with me!” said Emma. “You can’t just stay up here.” She took Penelope by the hand and pulled her off the couch. Then she tried to twirl her, which Penelope didn’t understand until much too late.

“Come on,” said Emma in a testy way.

“OK,” said Penelope. She did not want to dance with Emma instead of Gustav, but handling these sorts of situations was, like many things, not her strong point.

“I must get another drink anyway,” said Gustav. He waved at Penelope and sauntered off toward the mahogany room. Penelope had to work hard to hide how disappointed she was.

Emma grabbed Penelope by the hand and led her down the stairs.

“That is so weird that you were talking to Gustav,” said Emma.

“Was it?” said Penelope.

“What did you guys talk about?” asked Emma.

“Nothing really,” said Penelope.

“That’s so funny. I always have the best conversations with him.”

They were outside the billiards room and dancing area. It was still crowded with people dancing. In fact, the number seemed to have increased tremendously since Penelope last walked by.

“Come on, Penelope,” said Emma, “I always go near the pool table.”

Emma walked into the room and stationed herself in front of the pool table. Penelope stood next to her. After Emma was situated, she started thrusting herself against the pool table without moving any of her limbs. This soon attracted the attention of a dainty brunet man wearing a silver bracelet, who approached Emma and started gyrating into the front of her thigh. Penelope moved to the other side of the pool table to give them room. Eventually, after her eyes adjusted to the strobe light, she realized
she was standing near Evan, who looked utterly miserable. She decided to approach him.

“Hi, Evan,” said Penelope.

“Hi,” said Evan. He was staring at Emma.

“How has your night been?” asked Penelope.

“OK,” said Evan. He was sweating a little, on his forehead and under his arms.

“Do you want to dance?” asked Penelope.

“Uh,” said Evan. “Sure, I guess.”

Penelope grabbed Evan around the neck and started to dance with him. Evan stood ramrod straight and barely moved. He was not much taller than Penelope but somehow she had to crane her neck to make eye contact with him, which is a bother if you are doing complicated moves. She decided to introduce conversation to the dance.

“So do you like dancing to this beeping sound?” asked Penelope.

“Ha ha,” laughed Evan, whose eyes were scanning the room continually. “It’s OK.”

“What kind of music do you like?” asked Penelope.

“I don’t know,” said Evan. “I guess I don’t really listen to music.”

“Cool,” said Penelope. Evan saw someone in the distance and waved to them. Penelope abandoned the idea of conversation and concentrated on complicated moves.

“Hey,” said Evan after the song changed, finally, to Michael Jackson. “Slow down. You keep stepping on my foot.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Penelope. Penelope was trying to accomplish her famous crotch-grab-spin when she realized that Gustav was dancing right near her. He was with Bitty. Gustav was a very old-fashioned dancer, and Bitty was very uncoordinated. They were both drinking whiskey in large glasses full of ice. Penelope watched Emma unceremoniously abandon her dance partner and scamper over to Bitty and Gustav. Then they all started talking in a corner where the music presumably wasn’t as loud. Bitty kept tipping backward and Gustav kept having to catch her.

“So, Evan,” said Penelope. “Is that Gustav dating anyone?”

“I don’t know,” said Evan. “That guy is a weirdo. Stop going so fast.”

“OK, OK,” said Penelope.

“I have to get a drink,” said Evan. He removed Penelope’s hands from around his neck rather abruptly and left.