“It would help me if you read my play and told me what you think.”
She just looks at me then and says nothing, no doubt trying to come up with another lackluster excuse. I’ve asked her to read my play dozens of times over the years, but she always finds a reason not to. She’s too busy, her mind is clouded, she’s not in the right mood.
“I’ll read it when it’s finished. Whatever I say now would alter your creative course.”
Ah, so she doesn’t want to sway my process. Not likely. Juliette’s perpetually happy to give her two cents on everything, especially on another playwright’s work.
“As far as London,” she goes on, “you just need to think about it more. Mull it over, let the idea sink in, and if you could agree to come with us in the next ten to fifteen minutes, that would be great.” She goes to leave the room after that but stops short when her cell phone starts ringing. She looks around but doesn’t find it. I do the same until she digs into the couch cushions and eventually plucks it out. She checks the caller ID and smiles as she answers.
“Liam! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
A little out of breath from her impromptu sofa wrestling match, she twists around and away from me, walking over to the windowsill and picking up a small watering can. She sprinkles her first row of plant babies as she listens to his response. Liam is her nephew and lives in London, which is also where her sister, Isabelle, has lived since she moved there in her twenties. I’ve never met her or him, but I have sent Liam gifts on Juliette’s behalf every Christmas and on his birthday.
“That’s right,” she says, moving on to the next row of plants. “I’m getting in tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. Will I be seeing you?” She tries to water the oversized ficus in the corner, but the can is empty. “Sounds great! Here, I’m passing you over to Winnie for a second. Do me a favor and convince her to come on the trip with me. She’s being obstinate.”
“What? No.” My protest is in vain as Juliette’s phone is already in flight. I barely catch it as she disappears into the kitchen, shaking the empty watering can over her shoulder in response.
I clear my throat and put the phone to my ear. “Hello, Liam.”
“Hello, is Winnie there, please?” he asks with mock seriousness.
I fail to suppress my involuntary smile at his polite request and inviting British accent. “This is she,” I answer back.
“Excellent, just the person I was hoping to speak to.”
“My sentiments exactly. To be honest, I’ve secretly been dying to talk to you for years.”
“Have you really?” he asks, surprised.
“No, not really. I don’t even know you.” He says nothing, and I think I might have scared him a bit. “Sorry,” I lightly amend, “I thought we were pretending that we actually meant to have this conversation.”
“Yes, well, that was my initial intention, but it turns out you’re much more convincing than I am. I can only assume that you’ve had formal training?”
“That assumption would be correct.”
“I should have figured.” His voice is surprisingly calm, sounding more like one of my old improv buddies and less like a stranger who’s thousands of miles away. “So,” he goes on, “I’ve been instructed by my aunt to convince you to come to London.”
“She does seem to have that idea stuck in her head.”
“There’s much to recommend it, of course. Red buses. A phenomenal bridge. How do you feel about museums?”
“I hate them,” I tease.
“Absolutely. Nothing to be learned from there. And what about parks?”
“Not into them at all.”
“Couldn’t agree more. I’m violently allergic to pollen, and why should I be forced to carry an EpiPen just so everyone else can enjoy natural beauty? Pure selfishness on their end.”
I smile to myself and pivot around so I’m no longer standing still. “I knew you couldn’t be as normal as you originally sounded. It’s to be expected, though, since you do share a bloodline with Juliette.”
“Yes, we had hoped lunacy would skip a generation, but apparently not.” He pauses then, and I somehow know that he’s smiling, too. “So, how am I faring on my quest so far? Are you packing your bags at this very moment?”
“Unfortunately not. I somehow forgot to bring all my luggage and clothes with me to work today, but still, this has been a very pleasant verbal exchange thus far.”
“For me as well. Can I ask what’s holding you back from taking the trip?”
“You may, but I may also choose not to answer.”
