Are We There Yet? (17 page)

Eventually, it's time for dinner. Danny realizes he should have given Elijah and Julia the dinner reservations. He is in no mood to eat alone at a fancy restaurant. Nor is he ready to concede a room-service defeat. So he grabs the travel dictionary and heads to a nearby trattoria. Forster keeps him company.

When he returns to the room, nighttime now, he calls the office to check his voice mail. There are no new messages, not even in response to the messages he sent yesterday.

It is a terrible thing to not feel missed.

Danny can no longer read. His head has started to ache again. The Tylenol is no longer in his bag—he must have put it in Elijah's by mistake. In the dim hotel light (why can't hotel rooms ever be well lit?), he opens Elijah's kit and finds a plastic baggie of pot on the top.

“What the—!” Danny cries out, dropping the bag. Then he picks it back up for examination. There's no doubt. Clearly weed.

He cannot believe it. He absolutely cannot believe it.
Elijah is traveling with drugs. He went through customs with drugs. He left drugs in our hotel room. He didn't bother to tell me that we could be arrested at any time.

It's not the drugs themselves that bother Danny—he's inhaled his share, albeit a while ago. No, it's the
stupidity
that gets to him. The all-out stupidity of the thing.

Danny imagines the phone call he'd have to make to his parents:
“Thanks for the trip, Mom. But, Dad, we need a little help. You see, we're stuck in jail on a narcotics charge. Do you happen to know
any lawyers in Florence?”
Elijah does not care. Everybody thinks he cares. Everybody thinks he's thoughtful. But he's as selfish as anybody else. His kindness has a motive, and kindness with a motive isn't really kindness at all. He pretends to be considerate, and then he leaves his brother to eat alone and sleep alone and pay for every check. He says thank you, but with Danny he never can manage to do something thanksworthy in return.

Why do I bother?
Danny wonders.
What holds us together?
Because even though they spent almost every hour of their childhood together, and even though they come from the same town and the same parents, and even though they once genuinely liked each other, Elijah has somehow ended up half a world away from Danny.

“Stupid stupid stupid.” Danny puts the drugs back in the kit, and the kit back in Elijah's bag. He's not going to risk throwing them out. Just his luck, he'd get nabbed by an undercover
carabiniere
as he left the hotel.

No, Danny has to sit still. He has to wait for Elijah to come home.

And then he will yell.

He hasn't yelled for years. But now he feels like yelling.

Before he can calm down—before he even has time to settle—he hears the key in the door. He stands his full height. He doesn't care how late it is. He doesn't care if Elijah is in some dreamy foreign-girlfriend bliss.

Elijah will have to answer for what he's done.

There is no thank you that can get him out of this.

The door opens.

Danny reaches for the evidence.

But it's not Elijah.

It's Julia.

“Is this a bad time?” she says. “I didn't want to wake you, so I borrowed the key.”

She closes the door.

“Where's Elijah?” Danny asks. Has he known somehow to stay away—to stay in the hallway, even?

“Oh, he's asleep. He forgot to take extra clothes, and I was in the mood for a walk. So I decided to come here. You don't mind, do you?”

“No. Sure. Whatever.”

It's too late for Danny to tuck in his shirt or to pick up his dirty socks from the floor. Julia doesn't seem to mind. She starts moving for Elijah's bag—Danny stops her.

“Allow me,” he says, and puts Elijah's kit on the pillow, taking out the necessary clothes from underneath.

“Thanks.” There is a nervous edge to Julia's voice. Danny wonders if his behavior has given the whole secret away. Even though he's angry, he doesn't want to get her involved.

“It's really nice of you to come all this way,” Danny says awkwardly. “I mean, I'm sure Elijah doesn't mind wearing the same clothes two days in a row….”

“That's not why I came here.” Julia has stepped back now. She's looking Danny straight in the eye.

“Oh.” Danny is holding out one of Elijah's shirts. He doesn't know what to do with it.

“I came here to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Which is entirely crazy. So I'll go now.”

Flustered, Julia moves to the wrong door and heads straight for the closet. Then, realizing her mistake, she doubles back.

“Look,” she says, “I don't mean to complicate things. I mean—I know this is complicated. And I'm not sure why I came here. I just wanted to see you and see what happened when I saw you. And now I have, and I've made a complete fool of myself, so I'm going to go, and you can just pretend that it never happened.”

Danny puts Elijah's shirt on the bed. He studies this strange girl. And maybe it's because he's angry, or maybe because he's tired, or maybe because he's intrigued—whatever the case, he says, “You haven't made a complete fool of yourself.”

“Yes, I have.”

“I just don't understand.” He wants clarity. He wants to define the situation. Even as he reads it in her eyes.

“You mean, about Elijah?”

“There's that.”

“I don't know. I like him. Really, I do. But today in the museum, I thought that maybe …”

“Maybe?”

“I swore to myself when I came to Italy that I wouldn't let chances go by. You know?”

Danny nods.

“You see,” Julia continues, “Elijah doesn't know lonely.
You
know lonely, and I like that.”

She has come a little closer now. Or maybe he's the one who's moved—in all the confusion, it's hard to tell. Danny is undeniably attracted to her. He wouldn't have predicted it, but there it is. She is not his type, but she makes him wonder if he truly knows what his type is. He is conscious of her breathing, and his own. One more step will be too close, and not close enough.

“I was hoping that we could … I mean, I want you,” she says.

He is not used to hearing the words. The tone.

It's nice.

You know lonely, and I like that.

He moves away from her to turn off the lights. He wants to see her in shadow. He wants to know what he wants.

There is still light from the street lamps that dangle over the park outside. She is a whisper now, her expression turned entirely to words.

“Come here,” she says. It doesn't seem real. His senses are jangling and his temperature is rising and this is a girl he hardly knows, who has appeared as if conjured, bringing everything wrong and everything right.

He doesn't want to mention Elijah's name. Not because he is afraid it will turn her away. No, he is afraid that she will dismiss it, say it doesn't matter. He is afraid he will believe her, and of what he will then do.

Elijah.

Alone in a hotel room—a neat role reversal. While Danny is here with his temporary girl and his stupid drugs.

Elijah.

Julia is close enough to kiss. Her scent is all over the moment. Her eyes are watching his. She is as uneasy and vulnerable as he feels.

“Come here,” she says again. “It'll be all right.”

It would be so easy. To whisper, “I know.” To lean into the embrace. To let the lighting dictate the future. To shut off the sense of anywhere but here.

It would be so easy.

And yet Danny turns his head. He breaks the stare. He pushes the moment away.

“What is it?” she asks.

And again, he can't say Elijah's name. Because she will give him a reason to get past it. She will give him the reason to go on.

It would be so easy.

“I can't” is all he says.

She nods. She backs down.

She shivers.

“It was crazy to come here.

I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“No, really.”

“Really.”

Go back to my brother.

Stay away from my brother.

She gathers herself and leaves the room. The hallway brightness flashes, and then it's dark again.

Come here.

Go away.

Please.

Elijah is an atheist, but he prays. In the quiet, pre-sunlight morning, he is thankful for the path that has led him to this moment, to this bed. He is not thankful to anyone or anything specific. He does not bargain—or even hope—to make the moment longer. He believes in everyday graces. He believes that nothing is arranged, but everything is an arrangement. The angle of Julia's naked shoulder is not preordained. But he is thankful just the same. The lift and release of his breath is not something to be measured. And he is thankful nonetheless.

He will not wake her, and he will not sleep. He will lay in wonder, and he will daydream.

“Can I come to Rome with you?” she asks, as soon as she opens her eyes.

“Of course,” he replies.

Danny is amazed that he's slept. Of all nights to sleep. The emotions that would have singularly kept him up—anger, lust, confusion—combined to exhaust him into submission. Now he's awake, and the evening returns to him like a movie remembered— every word was said, but none of it seems real.

He thinks about home, and about going home. Every vacation has a shelf life, and maybe this one will expire before Rome.

He doesn't expect Elijah to come back anytime soon. But, strangely enough, the door opens a little after nine. For an instant, Danny hopes that Julia has returned. He closes his eyes and recognizes that the footsteps aren't hers. Elijah is back, packing up.

Danny feigns sleep. Elijah is careful, quiet. Danny knows this could be seen as respectful. But really, Elijah doesn't want to get caught.

Danny waits until Elijah is close by. At the foot of the bed. Hovering over his clothes.

Then Danny opens his eyes and says, “I found your drugs.”

Elijah stops what he's doing and turns to his brother. “You found me drugs?”

“No. I found
your
drugs.”

“Oh, you mean the pot?” Elijah is rooting through his bag, looking for something. “Feel free to take some.”

Danny sits up now. “You're kidding, right?”

“No, really. Go crazy. I think Julia can get us more.”

“So they're Julia's drugs?”

“They're not
anybody's
drugs, okay? They're, like, community property.”

Elijah is so laid-back—feeling generous, even. Danny wants to strangle him.

“I have just one question,” he says. “Do you ever
think
? For just one moment out of your dippy happy life, do you ever think about things? About little things like international laws, or my feelings, or our parents.”

“Our parents aren't little things, Danny.”

“DON'T
DANNY
ME,” Danny yells. “We have to talk. Right now. About you. And thinking. Because I don't want some Italian cop pulling us over and busting our asses. And I'm not sure that you should be spending all your time with this Julia.”

Now he's got Elijah's attention.

“What do you mean,
this Julia
? Don't drag her into your guilt trip, okay?”