The Year of Living Famously by Laura Caldwell

Author:Laura Caldwell
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Red Dress Ink
Published: 2004-11-05T16:00:00+00:00

chapter 19

Despite the relative luxury of first class, with its hot, white towels and unlimited cabernet (which I made good use of), I felt trapped and restless the entire time. I couldn’t stop seeing Amy Rose, her face leaning close to the car window. I kept hearing her matter-of-fact voice saying, You’re going to visit our family. What was wrong with that girl? And how many times had she watched us through our windows?

It wasn’t hard to figure out how she had learned our address. After Normandy came out, we got an unlisted number, but there were still millions of phone books out there that said precisely the street and apartment number of our place in Venice.

The flight was interminable. While Declan snoozed with his chair fully reclined, his black shoes poking out from under a blue blanket, I drank one glass of wine after another. Instead of making me mellow, my anxiety grew. The plane felt like a flying lipstick tube where I was trapped against my will.

When we arrived in Dublin, Declan was fresh and keyed up at the prospect of seeing his family and friends. Meanwhile, I was about to meet my in-laws with a hangover and a bad attitude.

As it turned out, the twins picked us up. “Hello, pet,” they said to me, hugging me roughly and messing my hair. Instantly, my mood improved. I wasn’t sure where the term pet had come from, but I loved it. It made me feel like somebody’s little sister.

Their car was tiny and cramped and dirty, shades of Declan’s old car in L. A. (Since receiving the huge advance for his new film, he’d gotten a gold Jaguar sedan.)

“Christ, man, we can’t turn on the TV anymore without seeing your bleedin’ face,” Colin said to Declan. The twins seemed not so much impressed by Declan’s success, but rather found the whole thing hysterically funny.

“And then there you are on this fecking interview, all straight-faced and such, talking about your inspiration.” This again from Colin, who rolled his eyes and wiggled his shoulders.

“Yeah,” said Tommy, raking his hands through his red hair, “like you’ve ever had any inspiration other than a properly poured pint of Guinness.”

Declan put his arm around me in the back seat and took their ribbing in stride. He swung his head constantly, looking out the windows. “God, it’s good to be home.”

“We’re taking your girl on the scenic route,” Tommy said.

Ten minutes later, Tommy told me to start paying attention. “This here is O’Connell Bridge,” Tommy said as we passed over a four-lane bridge. People packed its sidewalks. “And you can get a view of the River Liffey.” The river was a wide stretch of placidly flowing brownish water. I didn’t admit to the twins that I had somehow expected it to be green.

The buildings in the area were tightly packed brownstones or brick apartment buildings with storefronts at ground level. It was a real city, unlike L. A., and I got a twinge of excitement to be there.

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