Daniel stayed up even later. His desktop computer is in the office, where Ruby was sleeping. Mira was in bed, too, so Daniel took the opportunity to retrieve her laptop from the bedside table and carry it into the master bathroom.
The Louis Vuitton suitcase sparked his curiosity. Most designer brands mean nothing to him, but he recognized those iconic brown and tan letters. Raj’s watch, too, was clearly expensive. And the cashmere hoodie: who wears such a thing? So Daniel investigated. He knew they were doing well – in 2003, when Roy Horn was mauled by one of the duo’s white tigers, Ruby and Raj replaced Siegfried and Roy as the Mirage’s main act – but what he learned via Google astounded him. Their home, a gated, all-white estate, has been profiled in Luxury Las Vegas and Architectural Digest. The gates are marked with an ornate RC and open onto a mile-long driveway that leads to thirty acres of interconnected mansions and walkways. There’s a meditation center, a movie theater, and an animal habitat where black swans and ostriches can be visited for a hefty entrance fee. For Ruby’s thirteenth birthday, Raj bought her a Shetland pony, a rather overfed specimen named Krystal with whom Ruby posed for the teen magazine Bossy – Ruby’s arms slung around the pony’s neck, her dark mane lying atop Krystal’s blond one. In the article, a pdf of which Daniel found online, Bossy identifies Ruby as the youngest millionaire in Las Vegas.
Why didn’t Daniel know all this? Is it that he didn’t want to? He’s avoided reading about Ruby and Raj’s act, mostly because it makes him think about the disaster of their last meeting and the guilt he feels about his distance from them. Now he couldn’t help but rethink the previous night. Daniel and Mira purchased their house in 1990, when they couldn’t afford Cornwall-on-Hudson or Rhinebeck and still believed Kingston was up-and-coming. Daniel imagined Raj and Ruby driving into town, expecting a historical site – Kingston was once the capital of New York – and finding a city still struggling to right itself after the closure of the IBM factory that employed seven thousand residents. He saw them pass the abandoned technology center and Main Street, fallen into shabby disrepair. How must they have regarded the fold-out cot in Daniel’s office and the expensive cheese – the former an embarrassment, the latter an attempt to make up for it?
He could not bear to contemplate his return to work on Monday, and what might happen if he holds his ground when it comes to the waivers. Days earlier, he submitted a request to review his case with the local Area Defense Counsel, a military attorney who provides representation for accused service members. He knows that Mira is right – it’s best to be aware of what options he has to defend himself – but the request alone was humiliating. Without a job, who would he be? Someone who sat on a bath mat with his back against the toilet, reading about his brother-in-law’s solarium, he thought – an image terrible enough to force him to bed, so that he could fall asleep and stop seeing it.
Now he dresses nicely and hurries downstairs. Raj and Ruby sit at the kitchen counter, sipping orange juice and eating omelets.
‘Crap,’ says Daniel. ‘I’m sorry. I wanted to cook for you.’
‘Nothing to apologize for.’ Raj is freshly showered, wearing another expensive-looking sweater – sage green this time – and a pair of dark jeans. ‘We rattled around.’
‘We always get up early,’ says Ruby.
‘Ruby’s school starts at seven thirty,’ Raj says.
‘Except on performance days,’ Ruby says. ‘On performance days, we sleep late.’
‘Oh?’ says Daniel. Coffee will help. Mira usually has it ready for him, but today, the pot is empty. ‘Why’s that?’
‘Because we’re out so late. Till one, sometimes. Or later,’ Ruby says. ‘On those days, we homeschool.’
She’s still in her pajamas: SpongeBob SquarePants scrubs and a white tank top with a pink bra underneath. The effect is disconcerting – the childish pants and the tank, which isn’t tight, exactly, but still shows more than Daniel expected to see.
‘Oh,’ he says again. ‘That sounds complicated.’
‘See?’ asks Ruby, turning to Raj.
‘It’s not complicated,’ Raj says. ‘School days, early. Performance days, late.’
‘Have you seen my mother?’ asks Daniel.
‘Yup,’ says Ruby. ‘She was up early, too. We had coffee together. Then she went to Tai Chi.’ She puts her fork down with a clatter. ‘Hey, do you have a juicer?’
‘A juicer?’ asks Daniel.
‘Yeah. Dad and I found this in the fridge’ – Ruby lifts her glass; orange juice sloshes precariously close to the rim – ‘but we prefer to make our own.’
‘I’m afraid we don’t,’ says Daniel. ‘Have a juicer.’
‘That’s okay,’ Ruby chirps. She spears a folded corner of omelet. ‘So, what kind of stuff do you guys like to have for breakfast?’
She’s only making conversation, Daniel knows, but he’s having trouble keeping up. What’s more, the coffee machine isn’t turning on. He’s filled the filter with grounds, poured the water in, and flicked the switch that starts the brewing process, but the little red light remains off.
‘I’m not much for breakfast, actually,’ he says. ‘Usually, I just bring a mug of coffee to work.’
Soft padding of feet on the stairwell, and Mira sweeps into the kitchen. Her hair, shiny and freshly blown out, lifts like a wing.
‘Good morning,’ she says.
‘Morning,’ says Raj.
‘Morning,’ says Ruby. She turns back to Daniel. ‘Why aren’t you at work today?’
‘The plug, sweetheart,’ says Mira. She crosses behind him, touching the small of his back, and plugs the machine into the wall. The red light comes on immediately.
‘It’s the day before Thanksgiving, Roo,’ says Raj. ‘No one’s at work.’
‘Oh,’ says Ruby. ‘Right.’ Another corner of omelet. She’s eating her way in, leaving a thick, stacked blob of central toppings. ‘You’re a doctor, aren’t you?’
‘I am.’ The humiliation of it – his career so long established, now precarious – is exacerbated by Raj’s mansion, his cashmere, his juicer. It takes monumental effort for Daniel to remember Ruby’s question. ‘I work for a military entrance processing station. I make sure that soldiers are healthy enough to go to war.’
Raj laughs. ‘Well, if that ain’t an oxymoron. How do you like it?’
‘Very much,’ says Daniel. ‘I’ve been with the military for over fifteen years.’
He still feels proud to say it. Coffee drips thinly into the pot.
‘Okay,’ says Raj, as if agreeing to a stalemate.
‘And you?’ asks Mira. ‘How are you two enjoying work?’
Raj smiles. ‘We love it.’
Mira leans forward with her elbows on the counter. ‘It’s so exciting – such a different world from ours. We’d love the opportunity to see you perform. You’re welcome anytime at the Ulster Performing Arts Center, though I’m afraid it might not be up to your standards.’
‘And you’re welcome to come to Vegas,’ says Raj. ‘We’re on every week, Thursday through Sunday.’
‘Four nights in a row,’ says Mira. ‘It must be exhausting.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Raj’s voice is mild, but his smile is pasted on. ‘Rubina, on the other hand –’