My offer was two-fold. Yes, I wanted to spend some quality time with Jen, and just Jen, not the other two. Her jealousy—the competition she felt with Dan and Kate—surprised me, and she visibly needed extra attention. But I had a deeper reason for prizing her away from the house.
She needed to wipe this morning’s shenanigans—me heading into the woods—clean from her mind.
Twenty-One
The day was perfect for an outing. Every cloud swallowed by the great cobalt jaws of the sky, every last wisp of mist seared by the blazing sun. We had decided to go straight to Hearst Castle—a two-and-a-bit-hour drive—stopping off for lunch if we felt hungry, or leaving it until after the visit if we weren’t.
Pippa was flattered to be invited, blissfully unaware of the reason why—that she was our chauffeur. I sat beside her in the passenger seat, Jen in the back. Pippa’s brand-new car was a monstrous SUV, black tinted windows, fit for a president. The kind you never get to see in Europe because they won’t fit down most streets. I assumed it was part of her divorce settlement.
I introduced Pippa and Jen, but it turned out they already knew each other from the hotel where Pippa sometimes had business lunches.
Oops.
“Darling, I thought you said you were cousins of some sort,” Pippa said.
Jen beat me to it. “Yeah, we are,” she said. “But the connection’s so complicated, I won’t even try to explain as you’ll get so, like, lost with all the great aunts by marriage and uncles and shit.”
“But I don’t understand,” Pippa went on, “because you live here. I mean, you’re American.”
“We have British blood,” Jen lied.
I waited, both fascinated and wary to see where this would lead, nervous to intervene. I felt proud of Jen for taking on my tale with such gusto. She was a natural.
“We?” Pippa said.
Lying to a journalist perhaps hadn’t been the smartest idea.
“Me and my siblings,” Jen clarified.
“There are more of you?”
“Yeah, we’re triplets.”
“Good Lord, triplets? Triplets?” Pippa turned to me. “Darling, how come you didn’t let me know all this captivating scoop? Triplets! How fascinating. Split sperm?”
“Nope,” said Jen, “we’re not identical, one of us is a boy. But we’re a whole lot alike.”
“So, what are the other two called?”
“Dan and Kate.”
Too much information, I thought. Nip this in the bud.
“And why aren’t they coming out with us today?”
Jen slid forward on the sumptuous leather seat. It squeaked embarrassingly. She giggled. “That wasn’t me by the way, the seat farted, not me.”
Pippa handed me my pink silk scarf, one I hadn’t remembered losing. “You left this behind, darling, that day in Carmel. Left it on the back of the chair.”
It was too hot for a scarf. I folded it neatly and laid it on the dashboard, so I wouldn’t forget it again. “Thanks, Pippa, I had no idea.”
“So, darling, where are they?” Pippa probed.
“They’re at work.”
“Oh, yes? What do they do?”
“Dan waits tables and Kate’s a hiking guide.”
“Where does Dan work? Maybe I’ve seen him.”
“You have seen him,” I said. “When we were at the corner café in Carmel. Remember? The handsome young waiter?”
“No, no, I don’t remember him.”
“Because you were too busy stealing my French fries,” I reminded her. Shut up with the questions, Pippa!
Jen giggled again.
“So how old are you, anyway?” Pippa asked. “If you don’t mind my being nosey. You look like you should be in college, not working at a reception desk.”
I nudged Pippa’s elbow and glared at her.
Pippa took both hands off the steering wheel, her palms raised in the air. “What? What did I say?”
“Not everyone can afford to go to college in America, you know, Pippa.”
She placed her hands back on the wheel. “Sorry, that was tactless of me. Quite right. I’m sure your jobs are fabulous, and your hotel is a wonderful place to work.”
I needed to veer her away from the triplet conversation. “So, tell us all about Hearst Castle. I bet being a journalist, you know a whole lot more than we do.”
Pippa hung a sharp right at the end of my long, bumpy driveway and said, “You know the film Citizen Kane was inspired by the newspaper mogul Randolph Hearst? Many movie buffs and famous directors think it’s the greatest film ever made. Orson Welles wasn’t much older than you are now, Jen, when he directed it. Except they never used Hearst Castle to film it in the end.”