The Hundred Waters by Lauren Acampora

Author:Lauren Acampora
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grove Atlantic
Published: 2022-07-26T19:12:46+00:00

10.

A gray day with soft intimations of thunder. Louisa stands inside the sealed house and watches the workmen outside on ladders, silently washing the windows. Richard hires people obsessively. A house of this caliber must be aggressively maintained.

When her phone rings, Louisa answers in the kitchen, still within view of the workers.

“Louisa? This is Angelica.”

For a moment, Louisa doesn’t respond. She watches the men’s legs, their boots balanced on the ladder rungs. A stream of water flows down the windowpane, distorting her view, making the legs bend sideways.

“Angelica, hello.”

“I’m glad I caught you.” Angelica’s voice holds the sound of the city, the exhaust fumes and cocktail glasses. “First of all, I wanted to see how you’re doing.” She pauses. “I know you and Xavier were close once.”

“I’m all right. Thank you,” says Louisa, although it seems the wrong thing to say.

“We were friends all the while, you know, he and I,” she says smoothly. Louisa imagines a touch of competition, of triumph, in her voice.

“I know,” says Louisa.

“Well, listen. It’s late notice, but I’m having a party tomorrow night and would love for you to come. Bring your husband, of course.”

One of the workmen lowers himself down the ladder, and he and Louisa look at each other. His face is red and his shirt ringed with sweat. Sealed within the cool glass house, Louisa feels like a specimen.

“It’s for Xavier. I know a party sounds strange, but a memorial didn’t feel right, and I wanted to do something for him. I thought he’d appreciate something fun, just a group of his old friends getting together. I’m going to show some of his art.”

Another flood of water cascades down the window’s exterior, followed by a wide squeegee sponge. Louisa tries to absorb what Angelica is saying.

“Tomorrow night? Saturday,” Louisa says.

“Come around eight, or any time after.”

Louisa feels herself gripping the phone.

“Well, I think that should be fine. I’ll check with Richard.”

“You remember where I live?”

“Not the same place, I’m sure.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been here twenty years, my dear.”

“What was it, East Tenth?”

“Number 292. Top floor.”

The men have descended now and moved out of sight, leaving their ladders behind. After Louisa hangs up the phone, Angelica’s grainy voice is still in her ear. She stands and feels lightened, a kind of symmetry locking in place.

At dinner, she mentions the party to Richard but not its theme. She hopes to avoid mentioning Xavier’s death to him at all. He won’t come anyway.

“I didn’t think you cared about those people anymore,” he says.

“I don’t really, but I saw Angelica at her opening, and I guess she wants to reconnect.”

“I thought you never liked her.”

“She seems different now,” says Louisa. “I guess everyone grows up eventually.”

Richard’s eyes linger on hers.

“It would be an interesting change of scenery,” she says.

“I’m not big on those kinds of parties. You know that.”

“What kinds of parties?”

“She’s still in the Village?” Richard’s eyebrow twitches, and Louisa feels her cheeks warm.

“She must have a rent-controlled place or something. Maybe she owns it.

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