“I’m going to do that fall,” he said. “You watch. Give me a few days. You’ll be around for a few days, right?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess. If you guys need help.”
“We need help,” he said. “And I need a witness.”
Even as it was happening, Scarlett knew she would remember this moment for a long time—this first exchange with Eric, the way he was looking down at her, tousled, slightly sweaty. Perfect.
Spencer reappeared, now on his feet. Then he collapsed on the grass.
“I’m done,” he said. “Time to start with the lines.”
Spencer had only mastered a few lines in the hour or so he had the part, but he gamely tried to go though their scenes without the script, having Scarlett feed him the lines. Eric was incredibly patient, repeating his lines endlessly to give Spencer the chance to catch up. He had an amazing voice—serious and actory. With every word he said, Scarlett felt herself falling deeper into a soupy trance, which was barely broken when Spencer threw down his book and made an announcement.
“We gotta go,” he said. “It’s family night at the Hopewell.”
Scarlett looked at her watch. They had been there for two and a half hours. It felt like ten minutes.
“What’s the Hopewell?” Eric asked, packing his things away.
“We live in a hotel,” Spencer explained. “It’s called the Hopewell. Our family owns it.”
This startled Eric.
“Wow. You own a hotel. You guys must be loaded…”
He shook his head.
“Sorry,” he said. “That just came out. That was really rude.”
“It’s okay,” Scarlett said quickly. “We get it all the time. And we’re not. Really not.”
“Really not,” Spencer said with a deep nod. “Really, really not.”
They walked east out of the park, crossing through the boutiques of Madison Avenue, the towering apartment buildings of Park Avenue. Eric walked with them toward the subway. He was very talkative and open. She learned he was eighteen and from a small town outside of Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
“Getting that commercial…that was a fluke,” he said, jumping back as a cab cut in front of them. He clearly didn’t quite know how to walk the streets yet. “My acting teacher in high school set up a weekend trip for some of us who seemed serious about performing. You know—get the New York experience for a day or two, go to some shows, look at the big buildings. They had us do a one-day audition workshop, and it just happened that the guy casting the commercial was there and thought I was funny.”
“I can’t believe that,” Spencer said. “I live here! I go to auditions all the time. That’s never happened to me.”
“Just dumb luck,” Eric said. “They would have taken you if you were there that day. You’re a lot better than me.”
Eric’s generosity, his praise of Spencer’s talent…these were very endearing qualities. Scarlett tried to tell herself that this was what she liked about him, and that it wasn’t just his almost disturbing physical perfection.
“Anyway,” he went on, “once I got that, I decided to make the big jump. I was going to go to state university, but I got enough cash from the job to go to NYU instead. I’m starting in September, but I decided to move up a little early and get used to living here. You go to school, Spence?”
“Not at the moment,” Spencer replied. “Hopefully that will continue.”
Eric looked at the regal buildings that lined the park along Fifth Avenue—the embassies, institutes, clubs. Scarlett could see that New York was still making a very big impression on him at every turn. Things she paid no attention to at all probably shocked and awed him. It made her feel very worldly, which was a new sensation.
“Well,” Eric said, as they reached the subway. “It was good meeting you. Have a good dinner. Family night sounds nice. I kind of miss my folks.”
And then…Scarlett heard herself speaking.
“Come with us,” she said. “Have dinner.”
Out of politeness, Spencer didn’t make any weird faces or sudden moves, but he did slip a look in Scarlett’s direction. Family night was not a “bring everyone you know over” kind of a thing. People had come in the past—Marlene occasionally dragged along a Powerkid, and Spencer had brought one or two of his high school girlfriends—but that was back when they had a cook.
“It’s just one more person,” Scarlett said. “There’s always lots of food. Tons.”
When he didn’t reply for a moment, Scarlett thought he was trying to think of a polite way of backing out of this sudden invitation. But then he looked to them both, smiling broadly.
“I’m always up for free food,” Eric said. “And I actually like going to family stuff. If it’s okay…”
“Sure,” Spencer said quickly. “Definitely. I warn you though…if you like food that tastes good, this may come as a bit of a shock. But there should be plenty of it.”
“Lots is my favorite kind,” Eric said. “Lead the way.”
ONE BIG, HAPPY FAMILY