Even in Paradise
Page 24
I see him standing at the water’s edge after I jump off the porch. Instead of the piercing sensation in my chest I used to suffer at just the thought of him, I feel only the vibration of a once-broken bone that has long ago healed.
“I didn’t see your car,” I call as I walk toward him.
He turns and smiles that smile that once had the power to take me apart and put me back together in the same instant. “I parked at the neighbor’s,” he shouts. “I thought you might not come if you knew I was here.”
“I read somewhere that you were selling it.” I point at the house.
“Nah. It’s better than that. They’re giving it away. It’s going to be a museum community center thing. I think they’re even going to bring someone in to teach French, and there’ll be sailing lessons and stuff. It would have made Boom and Gus happy.” He tilts his head. “Actually, who knows what they would have thought.”
“Ils auraient aimé que cela puisse rendre les gens heureux.”
Both hands are in his pockets. His hair is shorter, tamer. He has on real shoes instead of sandals and his shirt looks ironed.
His fingers, I notice as I close the space between us, are not drumming. His feet are not shuffling or tapping. He is no longer perpetually in motion. He has become accustomed to stillness. It suits him—being still.
“You speak French now.”
“Oui.”
“Nanny told me you were coming today.”
“Je pensais que c’était la situation.”
“I read the papers.” He leans back on his heels, as if getting ready to look up at the sun. “I mean I read about your Boston show—in a couple of places actually. I should have been studying for my tax law exam, but your interviews were much more interesting. They love you, don’t they?”
I take the edge of my dress up in my hand and rub the linen between my callused fingers. The fabric catches and pulls at my skin as I approach him. “They love me today. We’ll see about tomorrow.”
“Julia would have liked that you made that sculpture about her. The one you talked about in the long interview . . . about your travel fellowship. Is that what’s on the porch? Sophie told me that you were bringing something for the museum.”
“Don’t you remember?” I say. “The beauty of art? It is what you see in it.” I stop five feet away from him. “I’m glad if you find her in something I’ve made. How is she?”
“We don’t hear from her that often, but she seems okay. She’s hopping around. Cuba, India, somewhere in South America.” He looks at some point in the distance, as if Julia herself might be out there to wave to us. “Besides fame and fortune . . . and graduation, right? How have you been?” He shades his eyes to look at me.
“I’m okay. Actually.” I look at my feet before raising my gaze to meet his. “I’m good. I’m really, really good.”
“I’m glad.” He smiles. “Everyone’s happy for you. Mum, Bradley, Cordelia, Sophie, Julia . . . wherever she is right now. I’m sure she’s—”
“And everyone?” I interrupt him. I am tough, but there’s no need to test my strength today. “How are they?”
“They’re okay.”
“Good. Then I’m glad, too.” I try the word out on my tongue like a sip of something sweet. “I only came by to drop off the piece. I have to go, but good luck, Sebastian.” I gesture toward the lonely but still magnificent house. “I’m sure it will be great.”
I turn and begin walking in the direction of the driveway.
“Charlie,” Sebastian calls after me. He jogs to where I stand and stops in front of me. “Look, I wanted to see you, so I could say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way things turned out. I’m sorry for lying and that you got hurt so much. I’m sorry for the whole mess.”
“Don’t be, because I’m not sorry. I would do it all again.”
He grasps his hands together and then drops them, letting his arms swing by his sides. “Wouldn’t it be great if I could just be me and you could just be you, meeting for the first time?”
I do not answer immediately. I rest my head to the side and put my hands on my hips and look up at him. “You know what I recently discovered? The Earth is four and a half billion years old.”
He smiles. “Those bottle caps. You learn something new every day. Don’t you?”
“You up for a boat ride?”
When the ferry nears the lighthouse, I take a penny from my pocket and hand it to him. I take the smooth stone from the night I met Julia and clutch it until it grows warm in my palm.
“On the count of three,” I say. “One. Two.” I bring the stone to my cheek for just a moment. “Three.” Then I whip it with all my might toward the peninsula.
Sebastian looks at me, and his grin is contagious. “What’d you wish for?”
I laugh, a real laugh. “Le dire, ça porte malheur.”
“Fine,” he replies. “I’ll tell you what I asked for: a fresh start.”
I lean against the railing next to him and look at the island dissolving into the waves.
I wish for the same thing I’ve hoped for since the beginning. I wish for a life so brave, so unpredictable, so full of unexpected joys and unforgettable love that no box could possibly contain all my memories.
Such a life won’t be perfect. It’ll be something better.
It’ll be my own paradise.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I AM SO VERY LUCKY to have the indefatigable and gracious Stephen Barbara for an agent. The stars were certainly aligned on the day he matched me with editor extraordinaire Sarah Dotts Barley. Thank you, Sarah, for your wisdom and guidance, and for softening your corrections with smiley faces. I am filled with gratitude for the whole HarperCollins team that has made Even in Paradise a beautiful reality: Renée Cafiero, Christina Colangelo, Alison Donalty, Erin Fitzsimmons, Christopher Hernandez, Alison Lisnow, and Tara Weikum.
To the friends and second families who have given me spaces to write, encouragement, and unconditional love, thank you. I am indebted to Chelsey “Beane” Canavan, Hsiu-Hsien Chiang, Elysha Ertas, Carolina Fasola, Lori Gassie, Briann Greenfield, Morgan Hanna, Katie Johar, Courtney Markle, Barbara and Billy Pollex, Laura Rossbert, Ashley Stone, Divya Vasudevan, Vanita Vishnubhakat, and Mari-liis Visnapuu.
I will always think of my teachers, professors, and librarians (past and present) with bottomless appreciation. The work you do is crucial. It is life changing. It is never forgotten. Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.
My coworkers, editors, and mentors, I will never stop learning from you. I am grateful for every opportunity you’ve trusted me with or led me to.
Thank you to my dedicated and kind brothers-in-law, Chris Fischer (my most optimistic champion) and Jason Pergament (my favorite road trip partner). I am so, so happy that you both joined our family. We did not know we needed you two until you were here.
I am filled with admiration for my talented, amazing siblings: my older sister, Natalie; my younger sister, Saeger; and my little brother, Harris. You are my greatest friends, the sources of so much inspiration, and the keepers of my best memories. Thank you for the terrible nicknames, keeping me humble with barn chores, and believing in me so much. Contra mundum forever and always.
Finally, I cannot do justice to how much I owe my parents, William and Karen Philpot. You’ve provided me with books, education, travel, and endless support. I can live out of a duffel bag and have my adventures because where you are will always be home. You’ve given me the world. Will you accept a book in return?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHELSEY PHILPOT grew up on a farm in New Hampshire and now works as an editor and a journalist. She’s written for the New York Times, the Boston Globe, Slate, and numerous other publications. Like her main character, Charlotte, Chelsey attended boarding school in New England and then earned a degree in English from Vassar College and a master’s in journalism from Boston University. Visit her online at www.chelseyphilpot.com.
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CREDITS
COVER ART © 2014 BY JESPER MATTIAS/PLAINPICTURE/CULTURA
COVER DESIGN BY ERIN FITZSIMMONS
COPYRIGHT
The epigraph here is from Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh, © 1945 by Evelyn Waugh.
The lyrics here are from “Shout,” Words and Music by O’Kelly Isley, Ronald Isley, and Rudolph Isley, © 1959 (Renewed 1987) EMI Longitude Music. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured. Used by Permission. Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.
The lyrics here are from “Do You Love Me,” Words and Music by Berry Gordy, © 1962 (renewed 1990) Jobete Music Co., Inc. All Rights Controlled and Administered by EMI April Music Inc. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured. Used by Permission. Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.
EVEN IN PARADISE
Copyright © 2014 by Chelsey Philpot
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Philpot, Chelsey.
Even in paradise / Chelsey Philpot.—First edition.
pages cm
Summary: “Seventeen-year-old Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Ryder, a girl from a working class family whose talent for the arts has gained her entry into the exclusive St. Anne’s school, is drawn into the circle of the larger-than-life Julia Buchanan, a former senator’s daughter”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-229369-5 (hardcover)
[1. Boarding schools—Fiction. 2. Schools—Fiction. 3. Friendship—Fiction. 4. Artists—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.P5496Ev 2014
2013047956
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
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EPub Edition © SEPTEMBER 2014 ISBN: 9780062293718
14 15 16 17 18 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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