Pretty Scars
Page 24
I got my cap off the bed and took his hand. In a blue gown, I walked with him along the streets of Siena to the university. Our neighbors congratulated me on my accomplishments, and my husband for supporting me. We were both more than our names. More than our faces. Both more and less than what we represented to those who looked at our faces or heard his music.
With him, I didn’t feel pretty.
I felt complete.
THE END
What’s going on with Margie?
The end of her story is years after the events with Carrie.
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Acknowledgments
Here, in no particular order, I acknowledge not only things that are surprisingly true, but all the ways I fell short, got lazy, or knew better and did what I wanted anyway.
1)It’s hard to remember a time before 9/11, when airline passengers didn’t need to submit to a cavity search two hours before boarding. A time when you could go to the airport thirty minutes before takeoff and buy a ticket with cash. Sure, there was security. No one wanted planes falling out of the sky. But in the 1990s, airlines were happy to accommodate impulsiveness. You even got to keep your shoes on.
2)Teterboro Airport was not under any kind of construction in 1995.
3)The New York Central Library’s psychology section is housed in the Mid-Manhattan Branch, not the Stephen A. Schwartzman Building. But lions always win. Ask them.
4)It’s unlikely Carrie would have been crossing Jefferson from University Village for a host of reasons, not the least of which is that her classes and preferred parking lot would be on the other side of campus. But I like Jefferson just because. Also, I visited USC recently on a research recognizance mission. The Village has been transformed from a dumpy food court into something—shall we say—cleaner.
5)I was two-thirds of the way through this book when the story of rich parents bribing university coaches to recruit their children broke. I feel remiss in not making it a plot point, but when I tried to approach the issue in the context of Carrie’s story, it didn’t go anywhere unless I wanted her to have an unearned spot. Not only would her family not make that kind of effort to get her into college, I thought it was important to show she was capable of doing it on her own steam. So that was that. If a story device doesn’t pay off, it has to go. That’s what the profs at USC taught me in the graduate cinema program where I was admitted after two attempts. No bribes required.
6)The concept of quantum entanglement was born in 1934, but the idea wasn’t seriously or effectively studied until the twenty-teens. So Emerson wouldn’t have been talking about them the way he was in 1993, and there’s a 98% chance he’s misunderstanding it in its entirety. Which means I am. But I figure, he’ll say whatever he thinks is going to get him in a pretty girl’s pants.
7)New York license plates were pretty fucking complex right around the mid 90s. I did my best, but there’s a chance that limo wouldn’t have had the numbers Z1C-136.
8)I believe the delivery entrance to Lincoln Center is on Amsterdam and Sixty-Third. If you know for a fact that it’s different, shoot me an email. Also, the position of the traffic light at this corner is past the lot entrance. So the limo wouldn’t have stopped there. Deal with it.
9)Similarly, for Carnegie Hall, I have no clue where the staff or talent entrance is, but I found a discreet doorway in Google Maps and I used it. If you have some kind of personal knowledge of the correct entrance, let me know.
10)I made up the Caruso and Fischer Fellowships because I couldn’t find awards that did what I wanted them to do. Also, I have a weird thing. I feel like by saying a fictional character won a real fellowship in a certain year, I’m taking away from the real people who earned them. I know that’s strange, but a girl has to sleep at night.
11)Actual acknowledgements follow: I hereby acknowledge that Alessandra Torre helped me turn an unwieldy story into a blurb, which she does a few times a year with her own magical, genre-bending books. I acknowledge Jenn and Sarah’s Herculean contributions to my PR graphics and promotions, including but not limited to communal squeeing over Hang Le’s awesome cover. Cassie and her Gentleman. Meghan who banged this out with me at a Christmas Party. Hat tip to Gabri Canova for her help with Italian. Last, my gratitude goes out to the writers I talk shop with, and all the goddesses in my group, especially those who love a good Game of Thrones chitchat.
Last - if you enjoyed the final sex scene, thank Liz Berry for its existence.
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