“I’ll hate to lose my darling, but you know how it goes. Regarding New York. I so loved it when we came here in college. I was thinking, I’d love to get more involved in the Frick.”
Push lifted the teapot, and placed it back down again, glancing toward the door, but the servant had gone. Barbara continued, “Its collection is so strong. It is, of course, such a center of social life here.”
“Thank you. It is a remarkable institution. I can’t imagine where Rosa has gone. Wouldn’t you like some shortbread?”
“Thank you, no. Regarding the Frick, though, I’d very much like to be more involved there. If you remember, I was a huge art enthusiast at Hollins.”
Evelyn was sitting very still.
“Well.” Push adjusted her napkin. “There are docent programs, though I would think they’re better suited for people who live here. The schedules can be surprisingly demanding.”
“I was really more interested in a board position, should one open up.”
“A board position? Barbara, I think that’s—that’s really up to the other directors and the executives and the development office. I’m nothing more than a glorified party planner on that board, really. I have very little influence.”
Barbara smoothed her skirt. “Well, my husband’s firm is always looking for corporate sponsorships.”
At this, Push looked up. “What firm?”
“Leiberg Channing.”
Push didn’t look like she’d ever heard of it. “Mmm.”
“They’re out of Wilmington, and they are very influential. Very influential.”
“I’m sure they are,” Push said. “We really don’t deal with other cities very much; we really are a New York institution. I so appreciate your interest, but I’m really not the one to handle this. Certainly there are some galleries in Bib-Bib—in Maryland that would be thrilled to have your help.”
Barbara pulled her lips in toward her teeth.
Push raised a finger, and this time Rosa materialized, responding to the three-inch change in Push’s finger altitude. Rosa whisked the half-full teacup and saucer Evelyn had been holding from her lap, and then the whole tea tray was gone. “Well, I’m so glad you liked the Frick. I’ll be sure to tell the curator that it pleased the discerning eye of a Hollins girl,” Push said pleasantly. “All those funny art classes we were forced to take. Ah, that reminds me of why we’re here. I’m so glad you told me you were visiting New York, because I can’t stand doing this sort of thing over the telephone—it’s so impersonal, I think. Now, I hate to be so direct, but this is a reunion year, and we were hoping you might increase your level of support.”
Evelyn saw her mother had turned her head toward the window, faking rapt interest in the rabbit-colored sky and building tops. Evelyn glanced at Push, who was looking expectantly at Barbara, but Evelyn knew this game and knew it would go nowhere. Evelyn waited until the silence got so extended she wanted to scream and tried to will her mother to say something, but Barbara didn’t. Then Evelyn gave Push a hesitant smile.
“My mother really loved Hollins. She talks about it all the time.”
Push’s gaze moved to the left, then down, as though she were looking through binoculars to locate an especially small amphibian.
“Oh! Isn’t that lovely!” she said.
Evelyn tapped her ankles against themselves, and pressed her knees together. “It sounds like it was such a fun experience. Tinker Day especially sounded so fun.”
“Oh, my dear, Tinker Day was such a wonderful Hollins tradition, wasn’t it, Barbara?”
Barbara turned her head slightly back with a disconnected smile, as though Push and her daughter were on a television screen, objects of mild interest but in which she had no emotional stake.
Push didn’t seem fazed. “That’s right, and Tinker Day meant classes were canceled for the day, and everyone would tromp up Tinker Mountain,” she said. “Some of the girls got quite physical on that hike. What savages we were!”
“Didn’t you have good picnics once you got there?” Evelyn asked.