All These Things I've Done

  Scarlet told me to sit, that she had promised Imogen she would get both our lunches. “Oh, come on,” I said. “I’m not that weak.”

  “Sit,” she ordered. “Make sure she sits, Win.”

  “I’m not a dog!” I protested.

  “Will do,” he said.

  “She sure is bossy,” I commented.

  Win shook his head. “I must admit,” he began, and then he paused. I sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to bring up his father or some other subject I wasn’t keen on discussing. Maybe he sensed my discomfort. “I must admit,” he repeated, “I underestimated your friend. Scarlet seems like this silly girl when you meet her, but she’s got a lot more grit than that.”

  I nodded. “The best thing about Scarlet is how loyal she is.”

  “That is important,” he agreed.

  Even though Win would never be my boyfriend, I realized that I did want him for my friend. And if we were going to be friends, it was rude of me not to acknowledge the part he’d played in my release from Liberty. Even if we weren’t going to be friends, it was rude. “I should have thanked you before,” I said. “For talking to your dad, I mean.”

  “Is that meant to be you thanking me now?” Win asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Win said. He started unpacking his lunch from his bag. (I guess he didn’t want to eat the school option.) His meal consisted of various vegetables, including a roasted sweet potato and a long white one that resembled a carrot.

  “What’s that one?”

  “A parsnip. My mother’s trying to grow them in Central Park.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” I said.

  “You want to try it?”

  “No, it’s your lunch.”

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s sweet.”

  I shook my head. My stomach was still wonky and I didn’t want to throw up all over the table. (Though maybe not such a bad idea, as it would have decisively settled the idea of Win and me as a couple … I don’t think a person can feel romantically attracted to you after you’ve vomited on him.) Win shrugged. He took two oranges out of his bag.

  “Oranges!” I said. “We haven’t had those here since I was a kid. Where did you get them?”

  “Mom’s trying to grow those, too. She got a license to start a grove on the roof of our town house. It’s not producing anything yet. These are samples from Florida. Here, take one.”

  “No thank you.” I didn’t want to owe him any more than I already did.

  “Suit yourself,” he said.

  “I really am grateful for what you did.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Win said.

  “But I have to mention it,” I insisted. “It wouldn’t be right not to because now I owe you.”

  “You don’t like owing people, do you?” he asked.

  I admitted that, all things considered, I would rather not be in anyone’s debt.

  “Well, here’s the thing. I didn’t have to do anything except ask my father. And trust me, Anya, there are plenty of drawbacks to being my father’s son and relatively few perks. While you could certainly say that there are”—he paused—“things my father owes me, that’s not the reason he helped you anyway. He intervened because he agreed with me that your situation was unjust.”

  “But—”

  “But we’re even, Anya. You don’t owe me anything. Though I did end up doing the lion’s share of the work on the project for FS II.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  At that moment, Scarlet returned with lunch. She slammed the trays on the table. “Ugh, lasagna again!” she called. “And no Gable Arsley to pour it over!” Neither Win nor I laughed, though I did smile a little. “Hmm, maybe it’s still too soon for Gable Arsley jokes.”

  In my room that night, I noticed that Win had put one of the oranges in the zipper section of my backpack. I set the orange on my desk. Even with the peel on, it made my whole bedroom smell sweet. Though I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, I decided to call Win. I told myself that if Charles Delacroix answered, I’d hang up. Luckily, Win answered.

  “You left something in my bag,” I said.

  “Yeah, I was wondering what happened to that orange,” Win said. “I guess you may as well have it then.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to eat it,” I told him. “I’m never going to eat it. What I love is the scent. Oranges remind me of Christmas. My dad used to have a business associate who sent him a crate of oranges every Christmas from Mexico. None of us ever ate them.” I was rambling, and this was embarrassing, not to mention expensive. “I should go.”

  Win asked, “You want to know the real reason I tried to help you?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, you probably already know it but maybe it needs to be on the record,” Win said. “It’s because I’d like to get to know you better. That was gonna be hard to do with you locked up at Liberty.”

  “Oh …” I felt myself blushing. “I really should go. I shouldn’t even have called you. See you at school.” And then I hung up the phone.

  In the morning, Jacks came to the house to get Leo for his first day at work. Leo was still getting dressed so I went to talk to Jacks in the living room.

  “If anything happens to him …” I said.

  “I know, little cousin, I know. Don’t you worry about Leo.”

  I asked Jacks what kinds of things they were planning to have Leo do there.

  “Cleaning. Getting lunch for the men. Nothing that intense,” Jacks assured me. “You made quite an impression on the old man, by the way.”

  “You mean Uncle Yuri?”

  “He said he’d marry you. If you weren’t related. And if he were fifty years younger. Et cetera. Et cetera.”

  “That’s a lot of very important ifs, Jacks.”

  “What I mean is, he was impressed with you,” Jacks said. “As am I.”

  I told him that I had to get to school.

  I walked down the hallway. I knocked on my brother’s door, and he told me to come in. “Annie, I’m late! Help me pick a tie.”

  “Let me see,” I said.

  Leo held up a solid-pink tie and then a violet floral-patterned one.

  “Maybe no tie? I don’t think it’s going to be that kind of job.”

  Leo nodded and set the ties on the bed.

  “You can call me at school if anything goes wrong. I’ll come get you,” I reminded him.

  “I don’t need my baby sister coming to get me!”

  “Don’t be mad, Leo. I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said.

  “I just wanted to remind you that if anyone asks you to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with, you don’t have to do it. There will always be other jobs.”

  “I’m late!” Leo grabbed his messenger bag from the floor. He kissed me on the head and on both my cheeks. “See you tonight. I love you, Annie!”

  “Leo,” I called. “One of your shoes is untied!” He didn’t hear me. At least, he didn’t turn around. I resisted the urge to run after him.

  That night, Leo brought flowers (yellow roses) for Nana and a pizza for the rest of us. When he came through the door, he seemed taller than he had that morning, and I noticed that both his shoes were tied, too. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d been wrong about the job at the Pool.

  “How was it?” I asked after we’d all sat down to dinner.

  “It was fine,” he said, and in a style uncharacteristic of my brother, he left it at that.

  Thursday, Scarlet and I auditioned for Macbeth. Auditions were held in Mr. Beery’s office. Everyone had to go in one at a time. You were supposed to tell Mr. Beery what part you’d like to play, then read a bit of it.

  Scarlet wanted to play Lady Macbeth, of course. “Unless Mr. Beery’s up for gender-blind casting, but I doubt it. I’d make a good Macbeth, don’t you think?”

  “You should tell him that,” I suggested. “But you’d probably have to cut your hair.”

&
nbsp; “I’d do it!” Scarlet said. “For Macbeth, I’d do it!”

  Scarlet went in first, and I went in after she came out.

  I read a bit of Lady Macduff. Her part wasn’t that big. Her main scene is her talking to her kid and then she gets murdered a scene or two later and it’s supposed to be very sad. She gets to scream “Murder!” when the murderers show up, which seemed fun and like a satisfying sort of thing to do. I’d rather have been a witch but Scarlet thought Lady Macduff was the better part for me. (“She’ll definitely have the better costume,” Scarlet had insisted.)

  “Not bad,” Mr. Beery said when I was done. “Though I’m disappointed you’re not reading for Lady Macbeth, too.”

  I shrugged. “I relate more to Lady Macduff.”

  “Just read a little,” Mr. Beery insisted.

  “I would rather not,” I replied.

  “Come on, Anya. It wouldn’t be disloyal to your friend to try reading a bit of it for me. I believe your background could unearth exciting things for the part.”

  I shook my head. “I have absolutely no interest in playing Lady Macbeth, Mr. Beery. And your statement that my ‘background’ would ‘unearth exciting things’ is offensive. I assume you’re saying this because I’ve known murderers. But the truth is, I’ve been in situations almost exactly like Lady Macduff’s, not like Lady Macbeth’s. I don’t relate to Lady Macbeth’s ambitions or anything about her. I have no ambition, Mr. Beery, except to get through high school. And, if you offered me the role of Lady Macbeth, I would turn it down. I’m not saying this as some sort of reverse psychology either. The only reason I’m going out for this play in the first place is because I said I would keep my friend company.”

  “Ms. Barber doesn’t have your spark, Anya. She doesn’t have your fire!” Mr. Beery objected.

  “I think you’re mistaken about Scarlet, Mr. Beery.” I had known people like him my whole life. People willing to embellish me (for better or worse) because of my family history. In a way, Mr. Beery wasn’t that far from Mrs. Cobrawick.

  “Very well, Ms. Balanchine,” Mr. Beery said. “List will be up tomorrow.”

  When I left, Scarlet was waiting for me in the hallway.

  “You were in there a long time,” she said.

  “Was I?” I replied.

  “How’d it go?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Well, he spent a lot of time with you,” Scarlet said, “and that’s always a good sign.”

  The next day, the cast list was posted on the door of the school theater. Scarlet got Lady Macbeth like she wanted. Though I wouldn’t have been surprised to have been passed over entirely, I was cast as Hecate.

  “Who’s Hecate again?” I asked Scarlet.

  “Chief witch,” she replied. “It’s a good part!”

  I hadn’t read for that role but this turn of events suited me just fine.

  We were still going over the cast list when Win came up to congratulate us.

  “Chief witch,” he said to me. “That’s the most important of all the witches.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I said.

  “You’ve got to keep those other witches in line,” he said.

  “I think I’m up to it.” I’d been keeping witches (and a lot worse) in line my whole life.

  And that was my week. No one was arrested. No one died. I was chief witch. If none of my problems had disappeared or improved, none had gotten markedly more severe either. All things considered, not bad.

  Friday night was Scarlet’s sixteenth birthday so I got my cousin Fats to give us the back room at his speakeasy. On account of my legal problems and the state of Gable’s health, we decided to keep the guest list small—a few of Scarlet’s drama friends, Natty, and that would be that. I wasn’t planning to serve coffee or chocolate or anything, but I still wasn’t sure if we should invite Win or not. As this wasn’t a surprise party, I discussed the matter with Scarlet. (Incidentally, I don’t believe in surprise parties. I don’t like to be surprised and I’m not sure that anyone does.) So, back to Win. “He knows what your family does, Annie,” Scarlet said. “It’s not this big secret. I say we definitely invite him.”

  I hadn’t told Scarlet about my conversation with Win’s father. In point of fact, I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It was too embarrassing, I suppose. “You ask him if you want,” I told Scarlet.

  Scarlet considered this, then shook her head no. “I’ve already made enough of a fool of myself around that boy, thank you very much. You do it.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Do you mind if I ask Leo, too?”

  “Of course not!” Scarlet said. “Why would I mind? I love your brother.”

  In a way, that was sort of the problem. It had become increasingly apparent to me that Leo liked my best friend as more than a friend, and I didn’t want him to end up with a broken heart. Scarlet flirted with everyone but I was worried that Leo might not understand that.

  “What about your lawyer?” Scarlet asked.

  “Mr. Kipling? He’s still in the hospital.”

  “Not Mr. Kipling! The young one. Simon, is it?” Scarlet said.

  I told Scarlet that he wasn’t that young.

  “How young isn’t he?”

  “Twenty-seven,” I said.

  “That’s not that old either. That’s only eleven years older than me.”

  “You’re getting as bad as Natty,” I said.

  Scarlet’s mouth slipped into a pout. “Well, I don’t like any of the boys my own age.”

  I shook my head at her. “You’re hopeless,” I said.

  “And the ones I do like don’t like me back.”

  Natty and I got to Fats’s place early to set up the back room. Fats’s place had wrought-iron tables and chairs and a big wooden bar across the back. Vintage advertisements for alcohol hung on the wall in heavy gilt frames. Supposedly, they only served wine but the place reeked of coffee beans. Coffee was a hard smell to get rid of, and it was my favorite scent in the world. Both my parents had loved the stuff. Before it was banned, they had always kept a pot on the stove.

  Fats offered to help us. “How you been, kid?” Fats asked while we shifted tables and chairs into the back room.

  I showed him my ankle tattoo.

  “Now you’re really a Balanchine,” Fats commented.

  I sighed. “Leo’s working at the Pool.”

  “Heard that, too,” Fats said.

  “You had something to do with it, didn’t you?” I asked. Hadn’t Leo told me that Jacks and Fats had been the ones that first took him to the Pool?

  Fats shook his head. “Pirozhki asked me to introduce him to Leo so I did.”

  “Why did Pirozhki want to meet Leo?”

  Fats shrugged. “Think he said something about wanting to know more of the family.”

  This seemed like a suspicious response, like Fats was hiding something. I would have called him on it, but at that moment, Scarlet showed up. She was wearing a strapless red taffeta ball gown and a headband with a peacock feather in it. Natty trailed behind her. “Doesn’t Scarlet look pretty?” Natty said.

  “Amazing,” I agreed. While it was true that Scarlet looked amazing, she also looked slightly insane.

  “I brought something for you to wear, too,” Scarlet said. “I knew you wouldn’t have changed.” She was right; I was still wearing my school uniform. Scarlet pulled a black, sequined, drop-waisted dress out of her bag. It was not the kind of thing that I would wear and I told Scarlet so.

  “Come on, it’s my birthday. And I want you to be sparkly,” Scarlet insisted.

  “Fine,” I said. “If you want me to look ridiculous. You’re early, by the way.” Scarlet had told me she was planning to arrive fifteen minutes late in order to make a grand entrance.

  “I didn’t want you to have to do everything by yourself,” she said. “I’ll leave and then I’ll come back later to make my entrance.”

  The party was a success. Scarlet’s outfit was m
uch admired. (Mine was, too.) I busied myself with the music and keeping everyone fed and watered. I liked having something to do, and I wasn’t in the mood for conversation anyway.

  At the end of the night, I had Leo and Natty escort Scarlet home, and I stayed after everyone had left to put the tables and chairs back in their rightful places and to thank Fats.

  “Here,” Win called. “Let me help you with that.” He took the chair I was carrying and set it in a stack with the others. “I can finish that for you.”

  “I thought you’d gone,” I said. I was not entirely thrilled to find myself alone with him, but if he wanted to move chairs, so be it.

  He went over to his hat, which was hanging on a brass hook on the wall. “I left my hat,” he said as he put it on his head.

  “Sometimes I think you go around leaving your hat everywhere on purpose,” I grumbled.

  He stacked the last of the chairs. “Now, Anya, why would you think that?”

  I didn’t answer. Win walked over to me. He held out his palm. In the middle of it was a single black sequin from the dress Scarlet had lent me. “You lost this,” he said.

  I giggled, slightly embarrassed to be leaving bits of myself behind. “I’m shedding.”

  “I did abandon my hat on purpose,” he admitted. “It’s hard to ever get you alone, and there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you …” And then he invited me to the Fall Formal. “I know, it’s kind of childish, but, well, I have to go. I’m the entertainment. Me and these guys are playing music, so …”

  “Guys playing music? You mean, you’re in a band?” I asked.

  “No, we’re not a band yet. Just a couple of guys come together for the purpose of entertaining at the Holy Trinity Fall Formal. I hate when people have been together, like, two minutes and they’re all, We’re a band!” This was said incredibly quickly and with a great deal of gesturing. I guess he was nervous. He took his hat off his head, as if to give his hands something to do. “So, yes, I’m definitely going. With or without you,” he said. “But I’d rather it be with.” He smiled at me, and his blue eyes went soft and shy. Had I been a different kind of girl with a different kind of life, I would have maybe kissed him right there.