Lies and Weddings(67)
“Doctor, I have to tell you…I have a cousin back in Hong Kong, Malcolm, who never grew. Malcolm is a midget.”
“We don’t use that word anymore, Countess. We call them ‘little people.’ Or ‘people of short stature.’?”
“Whatever. Malcolm is a dwarf of short stature, and I’m sooooo afraid it runs in the family. Don’t you think Rufus is too skeletal and short for his age?”
“He’s a normal boy, well within range.”
“Within range? His little sister is almost taller than him now, and have you seen how his rib cage juts out like one of those famine victims’?”
“He is thin, but many boys are at his age. I’m perfectly certain he will catch up once he begins puberty.”
“Can’t you give him steroid injections or something? Like what we give our horses?”
“Countess Gresham, your son is not a horse.”
Thankfully, his mother did not treat him like a horse, and by the time he turned fifteen, everything began to change. He grew over a foot in one year, his hair became denser and wavier, and his once-awkward features—that angular chin, deep-set eyes, and incongruously long nose—coalesced into what could only be described as an accident of smoldering beauty just as his scrawny physique filled out like a magnificent kouros. When he was sixteen, Tattle took its infamous picture, blowing up his world overnight.
Suddenly, it seemed like everyone around him started acting strangely. His father began calling him “Tadzio” and then chuckling to himself for some baffling reason, and Augie and Bea didn’t mind him tagging along on their outings and even started setting him up with their friends, while his mother began dragging him to her fashion events as opposed to hiding him away like the pale creature in the attic. He would come home to find his closets bursting with new clothes sent by designers whose names he couldn’t pronounce, and Arabella began policing his appearance in an entirely new way.
“Rufus, don’t cut your hair, I want it to get longer and then I’ll take you to Sam’s to get it cut exactly like Takeshi in Fallen Angels.”
“Rufus, why don’t you wear those asymmetric trousers that Yohji sent for the fundraiser at Quaglino’s, you’ll look so cute in them.”
“Rufus, you’re coming to the opening at the Tate Modern and I want you to put on that sheer top with the jeans that Gaultier sent over.”
“Mum, those jeans are completely ripped at the crotch, I can’t wear them.”
“Just wear those DSquared2 briefs underneath and it will look fab peeking through!”
“Mum, I don’t think you want me to be seen in public in those DSquared2 briefs. They’re kind of…bulging.”
“Silly boy, that’s the whole point!”
He couldn’t fathom what she meant by that, and he was baffled by all the fuss. On the inside, he felt like the same Rufus, but obviously, he could see that his appearance had changed, and this in turn changed how every single person treated him—except for Eden. She was the only one who didn’t treat him any differently. She was the only constant in his life from the time he was that strange-looking boy to this very day, when everybody seemed to demand a piece of him. She was the only one who knew him through and through, who knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. Rufus was still lost in his recollections at the wedding banquet when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see his old friend John.
“Do you have a moment?” John inquired.
“For you I have all the time in the world.”
“Come with me,” John said. They walked through a bamboo grove on the south side of the garden and came upon an ornate iron gate. John opened the gate to reveal two black Mercedes SUVs with dark-tinted windows idling in the street. The lead SUV was filled with security guards, and John opened the back door to the second car. Rufus peered in and saw Martha seated within.
“Wanna get out of here?” Martha asked.
Rufus beamed in surprise and got in. John shut the door behind him and took the front passenger seat.
“Where are we going?” Rufus inquired as the cars took off speeding.
“I needed to get away from that wedding dinner before I bought another company. I have a very hard time saying no to persuasive techies and John tells me I’m spending too much money.”
John turned around and faced her. “I think you and I both know that last start-up selling fractional jet ownerships in the metaverse was a waste of money.”
“If I’m right and it makes a profit, I’m going to force you to fly coach in the metaverse,” Martha quipped, before turning back to Rufus. “What a day! I really need to unwind. How do you feel about getting wet and naked?”
Rufus raised an eyebrow. “Why not.”
Skip Notes
* The gardens were planted by the painter Jacques Majorelle over four decades and lovingly restored by the legendary designer Yves Saint Laurent and his partner Pierre Bergé in 1980. The villa itself and all the architectural features within the gardens are painted in a distinctive shade of ultramarine called Majorelle blue that has so enchanted visitors over the years that there are now warning signs all over the garden basically stating, “Don’t try this at home, folks, it only looks this great under the bright Moroccan sunlight.”