sensation. She was completely aligned . Amid a collectively held breath, in the middle of a sea of tilted heads, she felt a pure sense of containment , an utter oneness with the world. Her brain didn’t buzz with unanswered questions, her waist didn’t strain against her clothing, her feet didn’t feel too big for her ankles, and her nose wasn’t too large for the allotted space on her face. In that single moment of weighted anticipation—like the last second before sleep, before waking up in a dream—Muriel’s heart ceased to beat with the longing to be someone else. To be Pia, her perfect sister. For the first time in her young life, she felt present and accounted for.
Though she didn’t know it then, Muriel would fall into her fate that Saturday afternoon. Or fate would fall on her. By the time the cast twirled onto the stage she would be hooked for life.
With a gut-lurching jolt, the orchestra flared. The stage lights blazed yellow. Transfixed, Muriel was so immersed in the colorful wonder unfolding before her eyes, she barely noticed when her mother leaned over and whispered, “Be right back,” and didn’t return until intermission.
Chapter 13
T HE M 5 BUS rumbled down upper Broadway, past the green glass walls of Julliard and the illuminated grand stair in front of Lincoln Center. Through the window Muriel watched her city pass by: a Duane Reade drugstore, salad bar deli, nail spa, dry cleaners, bank, another bank, and, of course, a Starbucks. The same pattern repeated all over the island.
Pia said, “So much to do.” Then she sighed.
Muriel agreed. New York was great that way. It was a comfort knowing the whole world was outside her door—well, down four flights and east two blocks—if she ever felt like entering it.
Uncharacteristically reaching down to squeeze her hand (what was with all this touching ?), Pia softly smiled and stared out the window. Muriel recrossed her ankles and fastened a casual look on her face. Now that her sister’s tears had dried up, she prepared herself to say, “Let’s get this over with, sis. Why are you here?” Though of course she’d never use the word “sis” and had no idea why she’d even thought of it. Next she’d call something “fabulous.”
They hit traffic near Columbus Circle, but the driver skillfully knit through crisscrossing cabs to pass the vertical mall and loop around the elliptical plaza. Fountains were spurting skinny arcs of water; purple spires of Liriope and persimmon-colored buds of Cotoneaster decorated the bases of honey locust trees. After they turned right on Central Park South, Muriel both saw and smelled the line of hansom cabs waiting for tourists, their hairy-footed horses scraping the asphalt with crusty yellowed hooves.
“So, what brings you to our fair land?” she blurted out, instantly biting the inner flesh of her lip and cursing her idiocy. “I mean, to what do I owe the honor?” Turning her head away, Muriel wanted to leap out the window and throw herself under the bus tire. Why all semblance of human personality deserted her around her older sister she hadn’t a clue. In the same way she could never comprehend why she gobbled up free samples of mini bagel bites at Costco even though gluten immediately gave her a stomachache. Some things were just mysteries of life.
Subtly sliding her hand out from beneath Pia’s, she released a nervous spew of conversational buckshot. “Of course it’s always great to see you. Especially on such a beautiful day. It really is so very lovely outside, don’t you thi—?”
Pia reached up and stroked Muriel’s cheek with the backs of her first two fingers. It shut her up instantly. Not sure what else to do, Muriel let her face hang there like a bolt of sateen. Was Pia checking for exfoliation? Good God, would the nightmarish day never end? Smiling softly again, Pia covered her mouth and coughed, resettling her hand in her lap. Then she returned her million-mile gaze through
Though she didn’t know it then, Muriel would fall into her fate that Saturday afternoon. Or fate would fall on her. By the time the cast twirled onto the stage she would be hooked for life.
With a gut-lurching jolt, the orchestra flared. The stage lights blazed yellow. Transfixed, Muriel was so immersed in the colorful wonder unfolding before her eyes, she barely noticed when her mother leaned over and whispered, “Be right back,” and didn’t return until intermission.
Chapter 13
T HE M 5 BUS rumbled down upper Broadway, past the green glass walls of Julliard and the illuminated grand stair in front of Lincoln Center. Through the window Muriel watched her city pass by: a Duane Reade drugstore, salad bar deli, nail spa, dry cleaners, bank, another bank, and, of course, a Starbucks. The same pattern repeated all over the island.
Pia said, “So much to do.” Then she sighed.
Muriel agreed. New York was great that way. It was a comfort knowing the whole world was outside her door—well, down four flights and east two blocks—if she ever felt like entering it.
Uncharacteristically reaching down to squeeze her hand (what was with all this touching ?), Pia softly smiled and stared out the window. Muriel recrossed her ankles and fastened a casual look on her face. Now that her sister’s tears had dried up, she prepared herself to say, “Let’s get this over with, sis. Why are you here?” Though of course she’d never use the word “sis” and had no idea why she’d even thought of it. Next she’d call something “fabulous.”
They hit traffic near Columbus Circle, but the driver skillfully knit through crisscrossing cabs to pass the vertical mall and loop around the elliptical plaza. Fountains were spurting skinny arcs of water; purple spires of Liriope and persimmon-colored buds of Cotoneaster decorated the bases of honey locust trees. After they turned right on Central Park South, Muriel both saw and smelled the line of hansom cabs waiting for tourists, their hairy-footed horses scraping the asphalt with crusty yellowed hooves.
“So, what brings you to our fair land?” she blurted out, instantly biting the inner flesh of her lip and cursing her idiocy. “I mean, to what do I owe the honor?” Turning her head away, Muriel wanted to leap out the window and throw herself under the bus tire. Why all semblance of human personality deserted her around her older sister she hadn’t a clue. In the same way she could never comprehend why she gobbled up free samples of mini bagel bites at Costco even though gluten immediately gave her a stomachache. Some things were just mysteries of life.
Subtly sliding her hand out from beneath Pia’s, she released a nervous spew of conversational buckshot. “Of course it’s always great to see you. Especially on such a beautiful day. It really is so very lovely outside, don’t you thi—?”
Pia reached up and stroked Muriel’s cheek with the backs of her first two fingers. It shut her up instantly. Not sure what else to do, Muriel let her face hang there like a bolt of sateen. Was Pia checking for exfoliation? Good God, would the nightmarish day never end? Smiling softly again, Pia covered her mouth and coughed, resettling her hand in her lap. Then she returned her million-mile gaze through
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