very lucky, her old fossil will die on the golf course one fine afternoon and leave her everything while she’s still young enough to enjoy it. The pretty girls always know it will end soon, too. They can feel how provisional it all is. So I hope she’s having a good time being young and beautiful. Is she having a good time?”
“Yes,” I said. “I think so.”
I didn’t know anybody who had a better time than Celia.
“Good. I hope you’re having a good time, too. People will tell you not to waste your youth having too much fun, but they’re wrong. Youth is an irreplaceable treasure, and the only respectable thing to do with irreplaceable treasure is to waste it. So do the right thing with your youth, Vivian—squander it.”
That’s when Aunt Peg walked in, bundled up in her plaid flannel bathrobe, her hair pointing in every direction.
“Pegsy!” cried Billy, leaping up from the table. His face was instantly bright with joy. All the nonchalance was gone in a heartbeat.
“Forgive me, sir, but your name escapes me,” said Peg.
But she was smiling, too, and in the next moment they were embracing. It wasn’t a romantic embrace, I would say, but it was robust. This was an embrace of love—or at least very strong feeling. They pulled back from the embrace and just looked at each other for a while, holding each other lightly by the forearms. When they stood like that together, I could see something profoundly unexpected, for the first time: I could see that Peg was kind of beautiful. I’d never noticed it before. She had such a shine on her face, looking at Billy, that it changed her whole countenance. (It wasn’t merely the reflected light off his good looks, either.) Standing in his radius, she looked like a different woman. I could see in her face a hint of the brave young girl who went off to France to be a nurse during the war. I could see the adventurer who’d spent a decade on the road with a cheap theatrical touring company. It wasn’t only that she suddenly looked ten years younger; she also looked like the most fun gal in town.
“I thought I’d pay you a visit, honey,” Billy said.
“So Olive informed me. You might have let me know.”
“I didn’t want to bother you. And I didn’t want you to tell me not to come. I figured it’d be best if I made my own arrangements. I have a secretary now, who takes care of everything for me. She made all the travel plans. Jean-Marie is her name. She’s bright, efficient, devoted. You’d love her, Peg. She’s like a female version of Olive.”
Peg pulled away from him. “Jesus, Billy, you never quit.”
“Hey, don’t be sore at me! I’m just teasing. You know I can’t help it. I’m just nervous, Pegsy. I’m afraid you’ll throw me out, honey, and I just got here.”
Mr. Herbert stood up from the kitchen table, said, “I’m going somewhere else now,” and left.
Peg took Mr. Herbert’s seat and helped herself to a sip of his cold Sanka. She frowned at the cup, so I got up to make her a fresh cup of coffee. I wasn’t sure if I should even be in the kitchen at this sensitive moment, but then Peg said, “Good morning, Vivian. Did you enjoy your birthday celebration?”
“A bit too much,” I said.
“And you’ve met your Uncle Billy?”
“Yes, we’ve been talking.”
“Oh, dear. Be careful not to absorb anything he tells you.”
“Peg,” said Billy, “you look gorgeous.”
She ran a hand through her cropped hair and smiled—a big smile that settled deeply into her lined face. “That’s quite a compliment, for a woman like me.”
“There is no woman like you. I’ve checked into it. Doesn’t exist.”
“Billy,” she said, “give it a rest.”
“Never.”
“So what are you doing here, Billy? Do you have a job in the city?”
“No job. I’m on civilian furlough. I couldn’t resist making the trip when you told me Edna was here, and that you’re trying to make a good show for her. I haven’t seen Edna since 1919. Christ, I’d love to see her. I adore that woman. And when you told me you’d enlisted Donald Herbert to write the script, of all people, I knew I had to come back east and rescue you.”
“Thank you. That’s terribly kind of you. But if I needed rescue, Billy, I’d let you know. I promise. You’d be the fourteenth or fifteenth person I’d call.”