Love by the Numbers

by Karin Kallmaker

  “Put your hands on the arms of the sword.” Lily gestured.

  “Quillons.”

  “What?”

  “The crossguard is called the quillons.” Under her breath Nicole muttered, “Finally, some medieval trivia I know that you don’t.”

  “I heard that.” Lily crossed her eyes at Nicole in the mirror. “Thank you for the gift of your knowledge.”

  Nicole pressed her lips together, but Lily was pretty sure it was to fight a smile. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Lily looked one last time in the mirror positioned directly behind the camera. Her wig was straight and she’d pushed most of the hair behind her shoulders. She looked more like the Scottish princess Merida in Brave than she did “Italian Renaissance Bride,” which had been the description on the outfit. She had to admit that the knight’s garb suited the glowering Nicole.

  “Kate will love this,” she said.

  “It’s the only reason I’m doing it. I hope she’s feeling better—I want to call home again tonight.”

  “Pronti,” Lily said to the photographer. She fought the natural urge to smile and instead thought of commanding, “Off with her head!” to the likes of someone like Merrill Boone. She would be glad of the picture even with the costumes, for the scrapbook she’d eventually put together, she told herself. So far she had no photographs of herself with Nicole. She was always the one taking the pictures.

  The photographer muttered, then nodded happily at what he saw in his screen.

  “One more?”

  The photographer shrugged and pointed at the sign outlining the costs. Lily turned to Nicole. “Your mother will want one of just you, won’t she?”

  “I suppose. But I can’t sit down.”

  The photographer waved his hands and pulled the chair out of the shot. Cranking a wheel he lowered a backdrop of a medieval armory. Lily tiptoed in to adjust the sword and Nicole’s hands on the quillons.

  “There. Now you’re a proper defender of the weak and innocent roaming the countryside while reading poetry.” She stepped back to admire the result. One thing was for certain—it was nice to see Nicole in something other than her habitual black slacks, white blouse, black socks and loafers. With her hair pulled back, Nicole might have been a Moorish soldier though few would mistake her for a man. The severity of the hairstyle highlighted her ascetic profile. “You’re bending gender quite well.”

  Nicole’s eyebrows went up. “I’m not sure my mother will be pleased.”

  “Stop that.” Lily tried not to notice that Nicole’s eyes looked luminous and her lips more full than usual. “Look fierce. Your mother will love it. ”

  They left the tent with two prints of each photo and a microcard with the digital images. Nicole immediately turned toward a lemonade vendor. Lily smiled. Nicole might not be all that quick with languages, but once she’d had an Italian lemonade, she’d found stands with limonata easily.

  She drifted a short distance away, looking again at the courtyard of the Piazza degli Scacchi. Her regrets over their rapid movement from Naples to Rome to Florence—experiencing little more of any of those historic cities than the inside of chain hotels and the view from their rental car—were assuaged by the late afternoon and evening in Marostica, about thirty kilometers north of equally historic Vicenza. After the bookseller in Vicenza had raved about the Living Chess Game scheduled for the upcoming weekend Nicole had been amenable to checking out the city’s festival.

  The piazza where the chess game took place was patterned with red and white squares and was overlooked by a gothic tower hung with heraldic shields and flags of medieval city-states. With so many people in period costume it was easy to see how it might have looked in the Renaissance.

  Nicole reappeared with a frosty cup. “This could become an addiction.”

  Before Lily could answer there was a burst of drums and trumpets, then multiple voices shouting, “Fare la strada!”

  She dragged Nicole out of the street. They’d just reached the safety of the sidewalk when a parade of men and women in black costumes, two accompanied by miniature horses in black livery, marched past them.

  “I think—oh!” Lily grabbed Nicole’s arm. “It’s the black chess pieces.”

  “What are they shouting?”

  “I’m pretty sure they’re talking trash about the white team and inviting everybody to the match on Saturday.” She looked at the little horses again and laughed. “Those are the knights. And the pawns—they’re the ones using what I think is very colorful language to go with what I know is a very rude gesture.”

  “What are the queen and king saying?”

  The most elaborately gowned figures were waving in a restrained manner and pronouncing something with great solemnity. “I don’t know—victory, justice. Nothing about anyone’s parentage. The pawns covered that pretty well. Bastardo isn’t hard to translate.”

  The parade circled the courtyard with the pawns insolently miming the act of urinating on where the white King would begin the game.

  “I wish we were staying.” Lily sighed.

  “We’ll be in Bratislava, right?”

  Lily turned in the direction of the inn they’d scouted earlier and picked for dinner. “Bratislava, then on to Vienna, Prague and Warsaw. I’ve never been to Poland, it’ll be new. Then we head to Moscow. Ready for some dinner?”

  “I’m quite hungry, yes. Am I remembering correctly that Moscow is universities only—no bookstores?”

  “That’s right. I couldn’t tell you why. St. Petersburg we’ll be in three bookstores.” She paused to indicate to the inn’s host that there were two of them for dinner. “But about Moscow—I’m concerned about the transit plan there. The second day’s lecture is scheduled further outside of Moscow, and we have to drive back to the airport in record time to make the flight to St. Petersburg. I think we’re going to miss it. I was looking at the train schedules—”

  “Sure,” Nicole said. “Let’s take the train.”

  The host led them to a small table, and pulled out Lily’s chair. She smiled her thanks and accepted the menu. “It’s not the Orient Express, but the countryside is beautiful in places. I can finally finish A Study in Scarlet.”

  Nicole scanned the menu. “I like trying new foods but right now I could use a very American burger. Don’t tell my mother, but I’d probably welcome her vindaloo.”

  “We could split a pizza. Might be something like home.”

  “Deal. Anything but anchovies.” Nicole set the menu down and looked at Lily across the table. “Isn’t that the same Sherlock Holmes you began when we left home?”

  Lily shrugged. “I thought I’d be reading at night, but by the time we get in I just want a hot shower and bed. Thank you for going on that garden walking tour with me in Florence, even though it was getting dark.”

  Once upon a time Libido had thought she would spend her evenings trolling bars for more casual sex. There was just no energy for it, not when she spent most of her time after dinner with Nicole, for at least a little while. Nicole no longer seemed as eager to retire to her room to work on her peer review projects. Perhaps she’d finished them.

  “I slept better for it.” Nicole was studying her hands. “This trip really is nothing like I expected.”

  “It’s more grueling than I thought it would be, that’s for sure.” Lily asked their waiter for their pizza, with a local sausage and mozzarella, black olives and roasted red peppers. She wondered if she looked as tired as Nicole did. “I find myself less patient and certainly more easily annoyed.”

  “Lack of sleep makes us more resistant to dopamine and sera—”

  “—tonin, yes I know.”

  Nicole’s eyebrow lifted as Lily expected it to. “Are you intimating that I’ve repeated this information before?”

  With a sweet smile, Lily answered, “Well, you’ve said it at least once and I have a good memory.”

  “In addition to lack of patience and being easily annoyed, you could ad
d ‘more cheeky’ to your list.”

  “Is that what you tell your students? That they’re being cheeky?”

  “No. Students don’t get cheeky with me. I’m told they get cheeky with the teaching assistants and administrative staff.”

  “So I’m a special case, then.”

  “Yes.” Nicole’s expression didn’t alter but her words seemed heavier somehow. “You’re a special case.”

  Lily opened her mouth to reply but the waiter delivered the tea she’d ordered for both of them and soon after that, their pizza.

  Later, trying to punch the hotel pillow into the right shape for sleep, she didn’t know what to make of Nicole’s tone. What a frustrating woman, hiding every emotion and making her spend her nights pondering the meaning of a word or a look.

  She stared up at the dark ceiling and wished she didn’t care what Nicole thought. She wished Libido would stop playing graphic minimovies in her head. This is like some shipboard attachment—we’re in each other’s company so much and I’m sex-starved and lonely. Nicole was an accomplished, brilliant scholar, and it was ridiculous to feel proprietarily proud, as if they had some…connection. But there was none, nothing more than moving through the same time and space for a while. Every day a new city and one day closer to parting. It seemed as if the only certainty in her future was that it wouldn’t contain Nicole.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You were right,” Nicole said. She reflexively braked against the passenger floor as Lily snaked the small rental car over two lanes. None of the signs made any sense to her, but she knew bad traffic when she saw it, and Moscow drivers were like Boston drivers on St. Patrick’s Day. It didn’t help that it had rained for most of the morning and that the expressway had one lane closed for construction—some things are the same the world over. When they’d left the lecture hall at National Medical Research University the rain had stopped, at least.

  Lily’s hands were clenched on the wheel. “I was right, yippee for me. Yes, we totally missed that flight. Good thing I picked the train instead of another flight later in the day. Good damn thing, because we’re going to miss that train and be totally screwed.”

  Nicole couldn’t remember Lily cursing before. She looked at the arrival time indicator on the GPS mounted to the rental car’s windshield. It still said 3:12, which was eight minutes after the express train to Moscow left. “Is there a later train?”

  “The one I booked was the last express. If I remember correctly, we can take a local and get there an hour late for tomorrow’s first event. I can’t believe this idiot box sent us the long way around the city.” Her hands clenched again and Nicole could easily envision the GPS airborne into the path of a large truck.

  Not wanting to add to Lily’s stress, Nicole gently said, “Perhaps we can still revert to an air flight, then. I don’t see this traffic offering up a miracle.”

  After a deep breath Lily said, “You’re right. Let me get off the road and try booking a flight online. Even if either of us was getting a signal my Russian’s not good enough to do it over the phone without having something to read from. It makes no sense to keep heading for the train station. It’s leaving without us.”

  Nicole braced herself for a sudden turn. “When I upgraded my service I’m certain I told them it had to work in Russia and they assured me it would. Only now do I realize the irony of pressing number one on my phone for help with a lack of signal.”

  “Is there some kind of law that says the one place we can’t get phone service is the one place we’re running late for everything?”

  “It sounds like a variation on the proverbial Murphy’s Law, which is not a law at all.”

  “These drivers make London cabbies look like lightweights.” Lily whipped through another dizzying turn to leave the crowded motorway behind. “This is all my fault. I had to stop and listen to that choir. We didn’t have five minutes—”

  “I don’t regret it—not your fault at all.” Nicole braced as Lily abruptly slowed the car and merged into a right turn lane. “I’d never heard Balkan singing live. If we’d kept on walking instead of going inside the chapel we would have missed that beautiful sound and we’d have still missed the train.”

  Lily briefly took one hand off the wheel to tweak the rearview mirror. “I guess you’re right. We live in a world where almost any experience can be put on hold, watched again, shared with people who weren’t there. While we were standing there I thought about trying to record it on my phone, but then I decided, you know, I’d have to record it where it counts.” She tapped her forehead. “And if I’m not losing my mind, that sign we just passed said food and gasoline this direction.”

  As soon as they left the expressway and industrial lots behind them, the city streets drew in close. In spite of not being able to understand much of the signage, Nicole recognized the ubiquitous local corner markets that had existed in every city they’d been to, complete with bins of produce just outside the doors. Parked cars added to the narrow conditions. Pedestrians were wearing woolen coats that Nicole envied. She’d not brought anything heavy enough for the climate, thinking they were here so briefly she would just tough it out. Tomorrow was the first day of autumn but at this latitude the temperatures were what she’d expect at home a month from now. Though she knew that it was a myth, she understood why people thought warmer climates thinned the blood—she didn’t think her feet had warmed up from the moment they’d stepped off the plane from Warsaw yesterday.

  Lily craned her neck to look at storefront signs. “And what’s the use of my having a laptop that gets Wi-Fi if I don’t know what Wi-Fi looks like in Cyrillic?”

  “Maybe we can find a Starbucks. They’re everywhere.”

  Lily bit her lower lip. “You’re welcome to try to find one with the GPS. It thinks we’re passing Red Square and I’m telling you, Red Square is at least twenty blocks that way.” She took a hand off the wheel long enough to point. “We’re not lucky enough to have gotten lost so we could drive by it at least, or past St. Basil’s Cathedral. No, we’re lost in the part of the city that looks like every other large city in the world.”

  Nicole took the unit out of its mounting bracket and activated the search function. She momentarily forgot she couldn’t read the street signs and glanced out the window to get her bearings—and saw a most welcome sight. “On the left! It’s the green lady logo.”

  Lily hit the horn and veered across several lanes of traffic. “I see a parking space.”

  Nicole hoped her voice was steady as she said, “One would think you’ve been driving here for years.”

  “Right now it feels like the entire United Nations is between me and my coffee. I’m cold and annoyed and I want Wi-Fi—oh my lord, is that a McDonald’s?”

  “Golden arches probably mean the same thing here.” Nicole braced herself for another change of course. They weren’t on two wheels as they bounced into the parking lot, but it felt like it.

  “I need a cheeseburger even more than I need coffee.” Lily shut off the engine.

  Nicole was grateful the car was no longer moving. “So we’re going to miss a train—maybe we won’t make it to an event on time. The world won’t end.”

  “I know that!” Lily softened her curt tone by adding, “I should have anticipated the traffic. I’m sorry.” She glanced at Nicole. “Looks like you could use a cheeseburger too.”

  “Do I look as pale as I feel?”

  “Only around the edges. Sorry.” Lily gathered up her purse. “I do mean that. I’m tired and peeved—but that’s no excuse for violating a half-dozen traffic laws.”

  “You did it with the same skill you show toward everything else.” Nicole opened the door and promptly shivered as a blast of cold air blew into the car.

  Lily gave her a narrow look, then broke into a smile. “Thank you. I think.”

  “Look.” Nicole pointed at a sticker in the window. “Wi-Fi is Wi-Fi in any language, I guess.”

  “I should have realize
d. A lot of computer tech-speak stays in English regardless of country.”

  “Stop apologizing for not knowing everything in the world. Why don’t I get the food and you get logged on?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s McDonald’s.” She let her tone go dry. “I’ll point at the pictures.”

  Lily muttered something as she headed toward a comfortingly familiar brown and beige booth.

  At the counter Nicole said, “English?” hopefully and the teenager promptly handed her a menu with only pictures of the food. She pointed out cheeseburgers, then at a picture of an onion with a big red X on it, gestured “two” with her fingers and swiped her credit card. Two minutes later she delivered the food and, feeling empowered, left Lily frowning at her laptop. Across the street at Starbucks it turned out that “vanilla espresso latte” was a universal phrase, at least for Starbucks employees. Chocolate muffins, by any other name, still looked delicious, so she got one of those as well. Dopamine to the rescue.

  Feeling all the pride of a hunter-gatherer returning to the cave with a wildebeest, she set the coffees down and slid into the seat opposite Lily.

  Lily looked no happier. “The airlines have good translation features, so I think I’m right that there are no flights available for online booking. I should have realized—same day online booking isn’t allowed. But looking at the schedule, I see only two possible flights to St. Petersburg tonight. We would have to go to the airport and wait at each ticket counter. Unfortunately, I was also right about the trains—a local leaves at nine tonight and doesn’t get in until ten a.m. and there are no sleeper cars. We could fly to Australia in that amount of time.”

  Nicole unwrapped her burger. She didn’t eat much fast food but her stomach growled anyway. “So what do you suggest?”

  “I think we could go to the airport and not find two seats. I mean—the distance involved is like traveling from New York to Charlotte. At home there would be a dozen flights that would get us there. Here, we have perhaps two choices and we could spend two hours finding out there are no seats.”