"My God," Morgan said. "I had no idea. What happened?"
"An accident," Cybil said, patting Anna's hand.
"How awful," I said. "Anna, I'm so sorry."
"It is awful," Morgan said. "And of course, here I am complaining about dieting. Well, as I'm sure you all remember, I am nothing if not extremely shallow."
"You mustn't blame yourself, Anna," Grace said.
"Please," Anna said. "There's nothing you can say. It's nice to be here with you again. It makes me feel as if I could start over. I want to hear more about what everybody has been doing. Do any of you travel to faraway places? I'd love to hear about that."
"We have all kinds of catching up to do," Cybil said. "I want to hear all about Lara's antique business, too."
"Love to, some other time," Morgan said, looking at her watch, a Cartier, I believe. "Command performance. Exclusive event. People there my husband wants to impress. I wish I could take you all with me. Which," she said, digging about in her purse, a lovely embroidered silk evening bag, "perhaps I can. Here," she said, pulling out an engraved card. "It's for me and a guest. I wonder if they'd allow me to have five guests."
"Maybe we don't want to come," Diana said. "What is it?"
"The Cottingham Museum. They're opening a new gallery of prehistoric art. I could take one of you."
"Doesn't your husband count as your date?" Cybil said.
"Believe me, darling, Woodward does not need an invitation. Now who would like to come with me?"
"Would that be Woodward Watson by any chance?" I said.
"Of course," Morgan said. "Did I not mention that?"
"I don't believe you did. I, too, have an invitation to the opening," I said, pulling an identical card out of my bag. "I wasn't sure whether I wanted to go or not, but I'm game if someone else wants to come, too."
"I'm actually a member of the museum," Grace said. "I have an invitation as well, but I'm afraid I already have a date."
"A date!" Cybil said. "That's rather nice."
"He's gay," Grace said. "And you all know him. Remember Frank Kalman?"
"Frankie! I didn't know he was gay," Morgan said. "Didn't I date him?"
"We all did, I think," Diana said. "You dated everybody, Morgan," she added. That was true. Morgan as Vesta drank, smoked, skipped classes, and, if the stories were true, slept with just about any guy who asked. A lot of guys asked.
"I liked him because he was the only guy I dated who didn't paw me," Morgan said. "I guess I now know why. Speaking of dating, I want you to know, Lara, that I've forgiven you for stealing Charles Miller away from me," she said.
"Who? What?" I said.
"You've forgotten," Morgan said.
"What?" I repeated.
"That you stole Charlie away from me."
"I did?"
"The graduation ball? You and Charlie?"
"Yes. So…"
"He and I were dating."
"You were?"
"You didn't know?"
"No," I said. "Since when would anyone date me if they could date you?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Did you really not know?"
"No, honest," I said. "As a matter of fact, I thought he'd been dating Grace."
"So you stole him from me," Grace said.
"Did I? No, that's not fair. It's coming back to me. You and I went for a coffee and I asked you and you said it was all over between the two of you, and you didn't care if I went to the dance with him."
"And you believed her?" Cybil said. "Silly you."
"Perhaps I did say that," Grace said. "And I may or may not have meant it at the time. A lot of water under the bridge, either way."
"I thought Charlie was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen," Anna said. "I still do."
"Charlie was adorable, wasn't he?" Cybil said. "Smart, funny, very good-looking. We were all jealous when you went to the dance with him, Lara. Pea green with envy. Did you date him too, Diana?"
"I did not," Diana said in a rather tart tone that suggested further questions on that subject would not be welcome.
Cybil did not appear to notice. "You did, too, Diana. I saw the two of you together smooching by Hart House."
"I am sure you are mistaken," Diana said. "If you want to know, I loathed him. I thought he was a pompous, self-centered, egotistical pig."
"I'm not sure I would go that far," Grace said. "But he was always rather more interested in people who could help him get ahead. Given I was there on a bursary because my parents couldn't afford the tuition, I was of no interest. The truth is, Lara, he dumped me. I was just too proud to tell you."
"Perhaps I should have known that," I said. "But I didn't. I suppose that's the reason you froze me out the last semester, is it? I always wondered what I'd done to offend you."
"I wish you hadn't brought that up, but yes, that's why. Ridiculous when you think about it."
"You really didn't know?" Morgan repeated. "About Charlie and me?"
"I really didn't know that either," I said. "I swear."
"Too bad. There's twenty years of bitterness and recrimination totally wasted."
"You're kidding," I said.
"No, I'm not," she said, but she couldn't keep a straight face, and soon we were all laughing, even Anna, just like the good old days.
"I was rather enamored," I said. "I have to admit it."
"Me, too," Morgan said.
"Me three," Cybil piped in. "He was a dish."
"My husband was a truly wonderful man, but he wasn't Charlie," Grace said almost wistfully. "Maybe that's a good thing," she added.
"Did we all date him?" I said.
"If we didn't, we wanted to," Anna said.
"So how many of us slept with him, I wonder," Morgan said.
"Oooh, Vesta. Morgan, I mean. You always were—what's the word I'm looking for here?—daring? Bold?" Cybil said.
"I expect the word you are looking for is shameless," Morgan replied. "Or maybe it's just plain tacky. I can see we will have to wait for another time before the confessions really start. Maybe we'll have a nightcap after the museum thing."
"I don't think shameless is the right word," Cybil said. "I always admired the way you said what you thought."
"It has gotten me into a lot more trouble than I dare tell you," Morgan said.
It had been a very long time since I'd thought about Charles, but the mere mention of his name transported me back to spring of my final year—walks in the park, notes passed back and forth in lectures, stolen kisses in the back row of the movies—all terribly prosaic, of course, but at the time Charles Miller had been the man with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life. It had ended when we'd both gone on to do other things. For awhile we'd written. I'd penned notes I thought were touching and profound, but which were probably just banal, if not downright silly. I couldn't even remember which one of us had made the decision final, but I do recall I cried for days when I realized it was over.
"I wonder what happened to him," I said. It seemed a bit odd to me that I'd so completely lost track of him. He'd been the first real love of my life, a divine dancer, handsome, debonair, and charming when he wanted to be. Sort of like Clive, when it came right down to it. Maybe I had a weakness for suave and handsome but shallow men. Except for Rob, of course. Maybe that was the problem. Rob hadn't been nearly shallow enough for me. It was a depressing idea.
"You really don't know where he is now?" Grace said.
"No," I said. There seemed to have been rather a lot I'd missed both at the time and in the intervening years.
"I'd say you were in for a little surprise," Cybil said. "Isn't she, girls?"
"She is, indeed," Morgan said. "Speaking of which, who is coming to this gallery thing?" The rest of them tittered. "Obviously Lara has to go. I think we all should. I'd hate any of us to miss it now."
"What do you mean obviously I should go, and what's so funny?" I said. "I'd be happy to give my invitation to someone else."