“Tell Hal Garcia that. His folks made a big enough donation to the university of his choice and, what do you know, not only does he get accepted, but he’s been passing all his courses. And he doesn’t study worth anything.”
“But, Gwen, I want to be a doctor, not just have a degree.”
“You work too hard.”
“And you’re a cynic.”
“Thanks!” Gwen straightened and gently punched her friend on the arm. “Want to try to pick up one of those guys?”
“No challenge, sister. I’ll bet you anything you want that they’re proges—part of the landscaping.”
“I’m the cynic? RT campuses have frat boys—why shouldn’t VT? It’s part of the tradition.”
“Those guys are just too cute. Go ahead if you want. I’ve got to figure out my schedule and I’d rather do it here. When I get home Alice is going to be all over me.”
Gwen frowned. “Look, Lydia, are you… pining after someone?”
“Pining?”
“Wasting away, growing thin and pale, haunted by a memory…”
“You never should have taken that poetry seminar.”
“Seriously. Back in high school you dated—and you’re lots prettier now than you were then. You’ve stopped chewing your nails, your skin is better…”
“Pregnancy will do that. And ten months in virt does great things for nails.”
“Hey, don’t try to distract me. The point is, ever since you got better, you haven’t even looked at a guy.”
“I’ve looked.”
“Seriously.”
“Okay, seriously. I was in a virt coma for ten months. I wake up and I have a newborn baby. I’m crazy about her—don’t doubt that—but between rebuilding all the muscles that a transfer couch doesn’t do a great job with, catching up with my college education so I don’t have awkward things to explain when I apply to med school, and raising a kid, I haven’t had time to think about guys.”
“Think now. Try it. It doesn’t hurt—really. Put on your virtual dancing shoes and come out with me this weekend. I really miss doing stuff with you.”
“Alice…”
“Alice will be fine, just like she’s fine now. You’re a good mom, but what are you going to do when she starts school?”
“Be in school myself, probably. Med school takes time.”
“Lydia!”
“All right. I’ll come out with you this weekend, Gwen.”
“Great!”
A shadow interrupted the sun. Both young women looked up automatically. A man, perhaps in his midthirties, had paused on the path and was studying them, a faintly quizzical look on his neatly bearded face. He wore dark blue jeans, a green shirt, and work boots.
“Miz Lydia?” he said softly. “Is that you? After all this time?”
“Ambry?” She rose, absently setting the college catalogue on the bench. “Ambry?”
Gwen grabbed her arm. “Lydia? What’s wrong? Who’s this?”
Lydia wrenched her gaze from the man with difficulty.
“He’s an old friend, Gwen. Let me introduce you to Martin Ambry.”
“Old friend? From—”
Gwen’s words stopped abruptly, understanding taking shape. She accepted the hand Ambry extended to her and shook it firmly.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Miz Gwen,” Ambry said, humble yet in command of the odd moment. “Lydia has spoken of you often and with great affection.”
“She hasn’t spoken of you,” Gwen said defensively, then a shy smile blossomed on her face. “Except in everything she hasn’t said. I’m pleased to meet you at last.”
“Can we ask you not to speak of this meeting?” Ambry asked.
“Is she going to vanish again?”
“No. That would not do. Her baby would miss her.”
“You know about the baby, but, of course, you would. I won’t say anything if she doesn’t vanish again and if she promises to call and fill me in later.”
Lydia squeezed her. “I will. Promise.”
“I’ll be going now. I’d guess you two have a lot to talk about. Good to meet you, Martin Ambry.”
“And you, Miz Gwen.”
She gathered her belongings and with a final wave walked off in the direction of the Frisbee players. Lydia banished her catalogue and, when Ambry offered his arm, found herself suddenly shy.
“Walk with me, Lydia?”
Without meeting his searching gaze, she looped her arm through his and they strolled together down a winding path that led toward a lake.
“It has been a long time, Lydia.”
“Alice has turned two.”
“And you wonder where I have been.”
“Well… yes.”
“I wanted to come sooner, but between your departure from our home in Virtu and now things have been happening.”
“Things?”
“I’m a deserter from an army, Lydia, among other things. Soon after you left to have our baby, someone tried to find me, to reenlist me. I was forced to flee.”
“But… army? You live in Virtu.”
“Virtu has its armies, its bloody battles, its ancient wars. I told you something of this during our time together.”
“You did, but I thought that those were long ago, during the Genesis Scramble.”
“They were. Something has been at work for some years now, awakening old ambitions, stirring forgotten feuds. A time of change may be upon us.”
“Change? In Virtu or Verite?”
“Virtu is where it will begin, but the indications are that it may spill into Verite.”
“Ambry, where did you hide? Why couldn’t you notify me?”
“I went to lands even wilder than those wherein we dwelled, my love, to places that I suspect— Do you remember that strange visit we had, the visit from Ayradyss and Heather?”
“Certainly. Ayradyss said that her husband was John D’Arcy Donnerjack and that her basement held a portal into our virt realm. Heather said less, but I had the feeling she was surprised to find us there— surprised and a bit defensive.”
“For good reason, I think.”
They had reached the lakeshore now. Lydia still had not looked at Ambry except for that first startled moment of recognition. Now he took her gently by the shoulders and turned her to him. Fingers under her chin, he tilted her face upward.
“Your eyes are still so lovely—such a dark, wild green.”
“You knew me!” she said suddenly, realizing that except for her eyes she looked nothing like she had during their brief cohabitation in Virtu. “How?”
“Your voice, tricks of gesture, how you smile. I had been watching you from across the lawn while you talked with Gwen. When I came closer, I was certain. Well—almost certain.”
She shrunk into herself, the poor posture that a combination of exercise and increasing confidence had banished bending her shoulders.
“I’m not nearly so pretty now.”
“You are prettier.”
“Flatterer.”
“No. This you is real. There are tiny things that make you unique. And you have a beautiful smile and a voice to drive men wild.”
“I do?”
“Believe me. You do. Will you look at me, or have I grown unpleasing to you?”
“Yes. No.”
“Then look at me.”
She did, blushing as she did so. He smiled at her and she smiled and buried her face in his chest.
“I feel so… shy. Isn’t that dumb?”
“No. It took all my courage to walk up to you. I wasn’t certain that you would choose to know me. I wasn’t certain that you wouldn’t slap my face and call me a cad.”
She giggled. “I don’t know if anyone calls anyone a cad anymore.”
“Perhaps not, but I have been one. I abandoned you and our daughter for over two years. Now I come walking back up and hope to be welcomed.”