Dreaming in Technicolor (25 page)

Delia had picked us up at the train station, insisting we stay with her instead of the B&B, since her roommate was away and there was space. She'd explained that she didn't actually
live
in her family's London flat, just stayed there like the rest of the family when she was in town for a few days. Most days, she commuted to work. But she'd arranged to stay in Oxford that entire weekend to show us around.

We'd dropped our bags at her flat, then she'd trundled us off to dinner at the famous pub. Now Delia and Mary Jo were engaged in a spirited discussion of Lewis's theological works while I sat there mute, pretending an absorbed interest in my surroundings.

Note to self: Start reading deeper Christian books so as to be able to
converse intelligently with spiritual-giant friends.

Do The Chronicles of Narnia qualify?

Might as well face it, Pheebs. You're never going to be a spiritual giant.
You're not even a spiritual tall person.

During a lull in the conversation, I piped up. “Didn't you just love
Shadowlands
? Although Debra Winger wouldn't have been my first choice to play Joy. But Anthony Hopkins sure made a great C. S. Lewis.” I sighed. “Of course, that man could read the telephone book and I'd watch.”

MJ took a bite of her chicken-and-mushroom pie. “Phoebe's our resident movie expert. She knows every movie ever made. And then some.”

“I know.” Delia smiled. “Just like Alex.” She put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I've gone and put my foot into it, haven't I?”

“No.” I gave her an oh-well smile and tilted my head. “Obviously, it just wasn't meant to be.”

“Or my brother's just daft. At least where our father's concerned. Alex never looks beyond what Dad wants to what he wants.” Delia took another sip of her drink and muttered. “It's not as if he's the only member of the family who could run the company.” She gave herself a little shake, then offered me a warm smile. “I think you two would make a great pair, even if my brother is being a great idiot.”

“It's all right. Really. Alex and I didn't have any kind of . . . understanding,” I said, echoing Emma Thompson's
Sense and Sensibility
line. “We'd only been dating a little while before he came back here.” I shrugged my shoulders. “No harm, no foul. And he's right, you know. Long-distance relationships never work.” I slid Delia a weak grin. “But please do me a favor and don't tell me if he ever starts dating George.”

One of the many benefits of staying with Delia—other than the obvious financial one—was that I didn't need to scout out an Internet café to send my e-mail. While MJ and Delia watched
The Office
on BBC, I checked my messages and double-clicked on one from my sister-in-law.

To: Movielovr
From: Kgrants7

Hey Ms. Continental, how's everything? Hope you're having the time of your life. Don't worry about the little people
you left behind—especially those of us who majored in English and drama and would give their firstborn child (not to worry; Ash understands.
) to be in the land of Shakespeare and Sir Laurence Olivier. But I'm not bitter. Not at all. Hah! You'd better at least bring me back a sweatshirt from Oxford, that noble ancient seat of learning. If you go, of course. The kids are doing great, other than Ashley having some boy trouble, but they all miss you. And Jordy's working way too hard, but I can't get him to slow down. A little thing called bills and seven mouths to feed. I'm thinking of becoming an Avon lady or Mary Kay rep to help out. (Can you imagine me in a pink convertible?.
)

Love, Karen

An e-mail from Lindsey with the subject line, “Looking for Lost Best Friend” wasn't quite as chipper.

To: Movielovr
From: LinsRog

Hear ye. Hear ye. Looking for lost best friend whom I haven't heard from in a while, other than a couple of impersonal e-mails that went out to a mass-mailing list. She abandoned me to go hobnob with the Queen and hasn't been seen or heard from since. Am I going to have to put out an all-points bulletin for my maid of honor?
When last seen, she was traveling in the company of her new best friend.

Although Lindsey had added in a couple of smiley faces to show she was teasing, I knew better. But her hurt feelings on top of Alex's defection last night was simply more than I could handle at the moment.

Especially since
she
still had a boyfriend.

And not only a boyfriend, a fiancé—someone who actually wanted to marry her and stick with her for the whole for-better-or-worse, in-sickness- and-in-health thing.

All I had were dashed hopes, lonely lips, and a job I didn't even think I wanted, now that I knew Alex wasn't coming back.

Maybe it was time to seriously consider Phil's job offer.

But is that what you want for me, God? I know I can probably do it,
but I must confess I don't feel particularly called to do it . . .

I wrote Lins back a brief reply, trying not to stretch the truth too much.

To: LinsRog
From: Movielovr

Call off search party. Missing best friend is alive and well and still on the road in England.
Sorry this has to be so short, but no time to write—and it's not always easy to find an Internet connection. Miss you heaps and promise to send a long personal e-mail soon.
England's amazing. Love you, and love to Phillie too.

I thought about sharing my Alex disappointment with her, but I wasn't quite ready. Not yet. I just couldn't bear it if she responded with a quick word of sympathy, then three paragraphs about her wedding.

At breakfast the next morning, Mary Jo and I had oatmeal while Delia ate her Marmite. We watched in fascination as she spread the brown stuff onto a couple of pieces of bread.

“Mmm. Lovely,” she said, taking a large bite and closing her eyes.

Feeling a bit reckless and remembering how adventurous Esther had been on her travels, I decided to give the uniquely British delicacy a try. But when I raised the brewer's-yeast concoction to my mouth, the smell almost knocked me out.

Going for the familiar, I made my eyes all big and Oliver Twistish and extended my oatmeal bowl toward Delia. “Please, suh, I want some more?”