Curtis Sittenfeld - Eligible

Uneasily, Liz said, “This is my friend Shane. I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Shane Williams,” Shane said warmly, and he waved. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Kitty stood, apparently unself-conscious about wearing a T-shirt, a pair of pink-striped underwear, and nothing else. She glared at Liz. “I’m not immature.”

“I didn’t mean you,” Liz said. “You know what? We’ll give you privacy.”

Hastily, Liz led Shane to the third floor and then to the basement. “Steel yourself for the worst,” she said as they descended to the Tudor’s lowest level, and Shane said, “You’d be surprised what I’ve seen.”

In the front hall again, Liz said, “Be totally honest. How much do you think my parents can get?”

“Hyde Park is always desirable, and this is one of the premier streets. But I can’t lie: Your folks will see better offers if they do some updating.”

“But it’s still worth at least a million, right?” Liz said. “Even in the condition it’s in?”

“Let’s say you declutter like crazy,” Shane said. “Because you’re just shooting yourself in the foot otherwise. But if that’s it and you do nothing else, yeah, I’d say asking a million is reasonable. Or maybe we price it at 1.1 million with the hope of grossing a million even.”

“You’re trying to sell our house?” Kitty said, and Liz looked up to see her sister on the stairs; though fifteen minutes had elapsed since their last encounter, Kitty still wore nothing other than the T-shirt and underpants. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

Liz exchanged a look with Shane. “They’re getting old, Kitty. They can’t stay here forever.”

“We won’t do anything without your parents’ blessing,” Shane said. “Here—” He walked up a few steps and passed Kitty a business card. “Any questions I can answer for you, anything you want to talk about, call me twenty-four/seven.”

Kitty glanced at the card, then looked between Shane and Liz. “Shane and I went to Seven Hills together,” Liz said. “I didn’t just meet him for the first time today.”

“I’ve got a showing now out in Sycamore,” Shane said, “but, Kitty, really, don’t be shy.” Was he, Liz wondered, hitting on her sister? To Liz, he said, “You and I can touch base later today or tomorrow.”

“Please don’t say anything to anyone else,” Liz said to Kitty after Shane left. “I’m only doing due diligence.”

“But we’re happy living here.” Kitty’s expression was petulant. “It’s not fair for you to kick us out, then go back to New York.”

NEED TO TALK to u, the text from Charlotte read. Got a min?

“What’s up?” Liz said after she’d called her friend.

“I hope you won’t be weirded out,” Charlotte said, and Liz detected in Charlotte’s tone both pleasure and genuine nervousness. “I’m pretty surprised myself. But here goes: After you and I had drinks last week, I sent an email to Willie. Just like, Hey, heard your trip to Cincinnati may have ended on a strange note, hope you’re taking care . He emails back right away and wants to know if he can call me, and I say sure. We end up talking till four in the morning. Then the next night, the same thing. To make a long story short, he’s invited me to visit him this weekend.”

“We’re talking about Cousin Willie, right?” Liz said. “That Willie?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said. “That Willie.”

“You shouldn’t feel sorry for him,” Liz said. “Willie’s a big boy.”

Some retracting on Charlotte’s part occurred. “I don’t feel sorry for him.”

As if she were unaware of the retracting, as if this conversation had not become deeply strange, Liz said, “How did you have his email?”

“We’d exchanged cards at Chip’s dinner party.”

Which in itself, in light of subsequent developments, seemed suddenly suspicious. There was something displeasing to Liz about this unexpected association between Charlotte and Willie, and an additionally displeasing awareness of her own displeasure. If Charlotte was happy, and indeed this was how she sounded, shouldn’t Liz be happy for her?

“Obviously, you can do whatever you want,” Liz said. “But you don’t think he’s, like, a tech doofus?”

Coldly, Charlotte said, “No, I don’t.”

“I don’t mean doofus like he’s an idiot. He’s very smart. He’s just, I don’t know — he’s so awkward. You don’t think?” She was making things worse, not better, and she could hear herself doing it, but Charlotte and Willie? Really?

“I’ve got to get ready for a meeting,” Charlotte said. “I’d appreciate if you don’t mention this to your family.”

Why was Liz the repository for everyone’s confidences? She wanted to say something complimentary about Willie, but it was hard to figure out what. When the call had ended, Liz winced, balled her right hand into a fist, and bit her own knuckle.

ON THE THIRD floor, Jane stood in warrior pose, her left leg extended behind her and her arms outstretched. As Liz entered the bedroom, Jane gracefully let her arms return to her sides and said, “Amanda and Prisha want to hire me as their private yoga instructor, and they told me I can live with them for as long as I want, even after the baby comes.”

Though Liz felt some dismay, the plan made sense: Amanda was a college friend of Jane’s, a Barnard graduate who’d made a fortune at a hedge fund before trading corporate life in Manhattan for recreational beekeeping and lucrative, long-distance, part-time consulting from the Hudson Valley. Amanda’s wife, Prisha, was a high school English teacher, and they lived with their eight-year-old son, Gideon, on a bucolic five-acre spread two hours from the city.

“Do you think you’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re pregnant before you leave?” Liz asked.

Jane shook her head. “I want to sit with it a while longer.”

Liz sighed. “Well, there’s something I have to tell you. It turns out Mom and Dad are hugely in debt.” Jane looked aghast, and Liz said, “I know. But it is what it is, and their only choice is to sell the house. You shouldn’t worry, but if you were planning to borrow money from them in the next little while, borrow it from me instead. Just focus on taking care of yourself. The reason I’m telling you is that this could be the last time you’re in the house.”

“I feel terrible. I had no idea.”

“Because you weren’t supposed to. None of us were. Have you bought your plane ticket to New York?”

“For a week from today. Does that mean I’ll miss Jasper?”

“Sorry, but no such luck. He gets to town Wednesday.” Liz leaned against her desk and folded her arms. “So you won’t believe this, but Charlotte and Cousin Willie have been talking on the phone, and now they think they’re in love and she’s going to visit him.”

Liz expected Jane to react with either disgust or amusement, but her sister was serene.

“I can see them as a couple,” Jane said.

AFTER PARKING IN the P3 Garage at Christ Hospital, Liz and her father took the skywalk to Level A, whereupon Mr. Bennet asked the young woman at the information desk for the location of the administrative suite.

“The billing department is that way.” Liz pointed.

“We’re going to see Dick Lucas.”

“But we have an appointment with a financial counselor named Chad Thompson.”

Mr. Bennet’s expression was thoughtful. “Men named Chad make me uneasy.”

“Is Dr. Lucas expecting us?” He held, Liz knew, some sort of executive position at the hospital, though Liz wasn’t sure precisely what it was. She wondered if he was aware of Charlotte’s trip to Palo Alto to see Cousin Willie.