same place they always did shopping bags piled up high all around the table, and Luigi waited on them like he always did, making those awful snide little remarks about rich girls and "Come the Revolution" and they were just as snitty back and all involved loved it like they always had.
Kitty loved it as much as she did, maybe more. She seemed to relish the air and the sun, and Davette thought she could use more of each - she looked just a trifle pale - but that didn't matter right now because the day was so perfect and then tonight, like every other vacation, the three of them would sit in the formal dining room, the girls wearing their new loot, and talk and talk with Aunt Vicky. And then Kitty, in some chance remark, mentioned casually that Ross would be joining them for dinner that night.
And the planet froze. And slowed down. And wanted to... grind... to... a... stop.
Because it had always just been the three of them on those nights, sitting and eating, and Davette had counted on that safe picture of at least one night, tonight, without having to see him again or hear that Voice.
Davette started to say something about maybe Aunt Vicky not wanting to share their traditional post-shopping dinner with an extra person and Kitty beat her to it, telling her how Ross and Aunt Vicky had become such fast friends, talking long into the night about philosophy and what-all, sometimes until almost dawn because Ross simply hated the daytime. He said it was only for primitive man, who had good reason to fear the dark.
And the planet slowed further and the faces in the mall seemed more distant and it seemed suddenly terribly important to Davette that she not make a big deal about this, not object at all.
Not let anyone know how she feared.
So she kept walking and she kept shopping and she managed a hollow echo to Kitty's laugh that she felt sure she had gotten away with and then, abruptly, when they passed a restaurant they had always passed by before, Davette suggested they drop in and have a cocktail.
"Because we are twenty-one now, aren't we?" was all she would reply to Kitty's startled look.
She ordered a bloody mary and when Kitty ordered just mineral water Davette kidded her until Kitty said, "Ross says he doesn't like women who drink."
And Davette thought: good.
And ordered another.
And then another.
She wasn't exactly drunk when they finally got home. But she was certainly feeling it, feeling pretty good, in fact, because the fear seemed more distant somehow and the alcohol seemed a kind of talisman, maybe, to ward off evil spirits.
And she giggled to herself thinking that. Kitty, sitting beside her in the bathroom toweling her hair, gave her an odd look.
"Are you drunk?" she asked her.
And Davette shook her head firmly and that made her dizzy and that was so funny she spat the bobby pins out of her mouth laughing and Kitty looked at her funny again but then she started laughing, too, and all was fine for a long time.
And then Kitty began talking about Ross. About how intelligent he was. How witty. How exciting. How sexy. And Davette stared, shocked, at her because they had never discussed such things before.
But Kitty, standing up to go into her own room, just gave her a sly, wicked smile and said, "You should find out for yourself."
And then she was gone and Davette sat there for several minutes before she could manage to move.
So, to dinner.
In point of fact, she never could remember the dinner much. It all seemed to go by so fast! She remembered the table being so beautiful and Aunt Vicky so lovely, but frowning that special frown because Davette was drinking so much but she had to, she had to do something...
Because he was there, looming at her from his dark eyes and perfect skin and immaculate tuxedo and knowing, knowing, smile. Not that he was intrusive or mean or anything; he wasn't. He was charming and witty and friendly and funny and he didn't seem to mind her getting soused. If anything, he encouraged her, refilling her wineglass again and again.
And with that thick cushion around her eyes the whole thing seemed less and less dangerous after a while.
And awhile after that, danger seemed kind of intriguing.
And just after that, she passed out.
She wasn't exactly unconscious. Not exactly. Her eyes were more or less open and