“Yes,” Allegra says.
“And then, the morning after we ate the chicken, one of us was chosen. The first day it was Private Jacob Hiller. And we thought, ‘Okay, J-Bear’—that was our nickname for him—‘is a big, burly guy, maybe they need him to help with digging a hole or fetching water or chopping wood or whatever.’ But J-Bear never came back. They marched him to this place called the Pit and they killed him.”
“Oh… ,” Allegra says.
“And it went on like that. We eat potatoes for days or weeks, then there’s a chicken roasting, and the next morning another soldier is taken away and marched to the Pit.”
“No!” Allegra says. She’s crying softly.
“We never knew when it would happen,” Bart says. “Until they roasted the chicken. Then you knew it was coming, but you didn’t know who they were going to pick.” Bart takes a deep breath of the night air and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’ll tell you what, Allegra. I loved the rest of those guys so much that every single time I wished it would be me.”
“No!” Allegra says.
Bart shakes his head and snaps back to himself. “I’m sorry.”
Allegra says, “I’m going back inside. I’ll have them take the chicken away and I’ll get the scallops instead.”
Bart bows his head. “Thank you,” he says.
Allegra disappears through the door, and Bart takes another moment under the black sky and the stars.
He told her.
He told her and she understood. She still likes him, he thinks.
He hears Centaur’s voice: GET BACK TO YOUR GIRL!
“Okay, okay,” Bart says. “I’m going.”
AVA
It’s a Tuesday afternoon, a week after Bart’s party. Ava emerges from the subway, goes to pick up her laundry, and considers Vietnamese food for dinner. She can either get takeout or go to the place on Second Avenue and sit at the bar. A warm, fragrant bowl of pho is what she needs, along with a roasted pork banh mi.
She climbs the four flights of stairs to her apartment, unlocks the knob and the deadbolt, and steps inside to experience the ecstasy of her own place.
Her phone rings. It will be Margaret, not Potter. Potter teaches until seven. It’s quarter of six, though, which is too close to broadcast time for it to be Margaret.
Her mother retires at the end of the week. She will finally be free at the dinner hour!
When Ava checks her phone, she sees an unfamiliar number, a 650 area code—what is that?—and it’s not a phone call, it’s a FaceTime. Who could this be? It’s not Shelby’s number or any of her siblings’. It’s not Nathaniel Oscar, thank goodness, or Scott Skyler. Could it maybe be Kelley, using the phone of one of the hospice nurses?
There’s only one way to find out. Ava accepts the FaceTime request.
“Hello?” she says. She hasn’t given one thought to how she must look after a full day of teaching, her evening commute, and climbing all those stairs.
The screen on her phone shows a dark-haired man in a yellow polo shirt. There is someone sitting beside him.
“Ava?” the man says. “Ava Quinn, is that you?”
“Yes?” she says. She smiles at the screen, squinting, trying to figure out just who this is. The voice is accented, British, sort of familiar, someone she has spoken to recently—but who?
“It’s Harrison, Harrison Fellowes here, calling from Palo Alto. And I have PJ with me. We just called to say hello and to see how you’re doing.”
Harrison Fellowes? Palo Alto? PJ? Ava knows she has the ability to put this together… she just needs a minute… and then she thinks, Oh! Harrison! Trish’s boyfriend! And PJ! PJ, the total nightmare child! But wait… why are they calling her? Why are they FaceTiming her? Ava peers at the picture on her screen. Yes, it’s Harrison, and there’s a squirming presence next to him.
“PJ?” Ava says cautiously. “Hi, it’s Ava.”
She waits.
Suddenly there is PJ’s face. Possibly it’s the novelty of FaceTime that lures him in. After all, how strange is it to be able to see someone who is three thousand miles away?
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi, Ava,” Harrison prompts.
“Hi, Ava,” PJ says.
Ava feels tears welling. She can’t… this is so…unexpected, so… bizarre, really. This must be why Harrison asked for her cell number. He wanted to facilitate this impromptu meeting. It’s ingenious. Ingenious and very, very kind.
“Hi, PJ, how are you?” Ava has to come up with something else to ask. “What’s new in the world of Minecraft?”
“Something exciting happened,” PJ says.
“Oh yeah?” Ava says. “What?”
“I finished building my roller coaster,” PJ says.
“Well, all right!” Ava says. “I love roller coasters!” She can’t believe this is happening. PJ is talking to her of his own volition. Maybe Harrison has offered up a wonderful bribe, but Ava doesn’t care.
At that moment Harrison holds up the camera so that they’re both visible. Ava hungrily scans the background: They’re at home, or in a homey atmosphere. In a den or a library. There are shelves of books behind Harrison and PJ’s heads—and a trophy. Maybe one of Trish’s sailing trophies or a trophy given to Shakespeare scholars. Or a Minecraft trophy. “We called to say hello to you, our friend Ava, and also to invite you and Potter to Palo Alto for Thanksgiving. Trish and I are hosting this year. It’ll just be us, PJ, and a few fellow academics, so it’s sure to be a horrifically boring time, but we’d love it if you would join us. And yes, I do know it’s short notice and airfare will be frightfully expensive, but I know that PJ, in particular, would like to see you and his dad. Isn’t that right, PJ?”
“Yes,” PJ says. He sounds sincere.
“Oh,” Ava says. She personally can’t go to Palo Alto. She must go to Nantucket to be with her family, her father. Potter was planning on coming with her, but Ava decides right then and there that he doesn’t have to. Not only does he not have to, he shouldn’t. He should go to Palo Alto and spend Thanksgiving with his son.
Ava says, “Harrison and PJ, I ask for your understanding when I tell you that I have family obligations elsewhere. So although I really appreciate the offer, I can’t come. But I can assure you that Potter will come to Palo Alto. Okay?”
“Yes,” Harrison says. “That would be wonderful, although we’ll miss our friend Ava. Won’t we, PJ?”
There’s only a split second’s pause. “Yes,” PJ says.
“Well, we’ll call Potter and confirm that he’s free,” Harrison says.
“Yes, do that. He’s finished teaching at seven,” Ava says.
“Ah, well, I teach at four, so I’ll try him tomorrow,” Harrison says. “If you see him before I speak to him, feel free to pass on the invite.”
“I’ll do just that,” Ava says. “Thank you for calling. I mean… thank you.”
Harrison smiles. He’s such a hero! She can’t believe he orchestrated this!
“The pleasure was ours,” Harrison says. “Bye-bye, Ava.”
“Bye-bye, Ava,” PJ says.
The screen goes blank.
Ava can’t wait for seven, when Potter is finished teaching his class. He is going to flip when he hears that Ava was invited to Thanksgiving in Palo Alto.
Or is he? Ava wonders. He may be angry that Harrison, of all people, reached out. Ava never told Potter that she and Harrison had a conversation in the lobby that afternoon, and she certainly didn’t tell him that she gave Harrison her cell. Potter’s obvious first question is going to be How did Harrison get your number?
Ava’s elation subsides, then morphs into worry. She needs to think about how to handle this.
When Potter calls after class, he sounds weary. Ava forgot that it’s midterms, so he has papers to grade for two classes and an exam to administer to a third. He says, “This is why I want you to move in with me. So you’re here when I get home.”