Three Fates

knew you’d catch some foreign germ.”
    “I’m not feverish. I got a bit hot on the walk over, that’s all.”
    “You walked? In this heat! I want you to sit down, sit down right here. You’re dehydrated, courting heatstroke.”
    “I’m not.” But she thought she might feel just a little dizzy after all. “I’m perfectly fine. I’ve never felt better.”
    “A mother knows these things.” Revived, Alma waved Tia to a chair and marched to the door. “Tilly! Bring up a pitcher of lemon water and a cold compress, and call Dr. Realto. I want him to examine Tia right away.”
    “I’m not going to the doctor.”
    “Don’t be stubborn.”
    “I’m not.” But she was beginning to feel a bit queasy. “Mother, please, sit down before you aggravate your headache. Tilly’s bringing up cold drinks. I promise, if I feel the least bit ill, I’ll phone Dr. Realto.”
    “Now what’s all this fuss?” Tilly came in, carrying a tray.
    “Tia’s ill, you only have to look at her to see it, and she won’t have the doctor.”
    “She looks just fine to me, blooming like a rose.”
    “It’s fever.”
    “Oh, now, Miss Alma, girl’s got some color in her cheeks for a change, that’s all. You sit down and have some nice iced tea. It’s jasmine, your favorite. And I’ve got some lovely green grapes here.”
    “You washed them in that anti-toxin solution?”
    “Absolutely. I’m going to put your Chopin on,” she added when she set down the tray. “Real low. You know how that always soothes your nerves.”
    “Yes, yes, it does. Thank you, Tilly. What would I do without you?”
    “Lord only knows,” Tilly said under her breath and added a wink for Tia as she walked out.
    Alma sighed and sat. “My nerves haven’t been good,” she admitted to Tia. “I know you felt this trip was important for your career, but you’ve never been so far away for so long.”
    And according to Dr. Lowenstein, Tia thought as she poured the tea, that was part of the problem. “I’m back now. And all in all, it was a fascinating trip. The lectures and signings were well attended, and it helped clear out some of the cobwebs I’ve been dealing with about the new book. Mother, I met this man—”
    “A man? You met a man?” Alma came to attention. “What kind of man? Where? Tia, you know perfectly well how dangerous it is for a woman alone to travel, much less to hold conversations with strange men.”
    “Mother, I’m not an imbecile.”
    “You’re trusting and naive.”
    “Yes, you’re right, so when he asked me to go back to his hotel room to discuss the modern significance of Homer, I went like a lamb to the slaughter. He ravished me, then passed me to his nefarious partner for sloppy seconds. Now I’m pregnant and I don’t know which one is the father.”
    She didn’t know why she’d said it, honestly didn’t know how all that had burst out of her mouth. She felt her own headache coming on as Alma went white and clutched her chest.
    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I wish you’d give me some credit for common sense. I’m seeing a perfectly nice man. We have an interesting connection that goes back to Henry Wyley.”
    “You’re not pregnant.”
    “No, of course not. I’m simply seeing a man who shares my interest in Greek myths, and who, coincidentally, had an ancestor on the Lusitania. A survivor.”
    “Is he married?”
    “No!” Shocked, insulted, Tia got to her feet to pace. “I wouldn’t date a married man.”
    “Not if you knew he was married,” Alma said significantly. “Where did you meet him?”
    “He attended one of my lectures, and he had business here in New York, so he looked me up.”
    “What sort of business?”
    Growing more frustrated by the minute, Tia pushed at her hair. It felt suddenly, abominably heavy. As if it were smothering her brain. “He’s in shipping. Mother, the point is that in talking about the Greeks, and the Lusitania , we touched on the Three Fates. The statues? You’ve heard Father mention them.”
    “No, I can’t say I have, but someone asked me about them just the other day. Who was it?”
    “Someone asked you about them? That’s odd.”
    “It’s neither here nor there,” Alma said irritably. “It was in passing, at some function your father dragged me to though I was feeling unwell. That Gaye woman,” Alma remembered. “Anita Gaye. She has a hard look about her, if you ask me. And no wonder, marrying a man forty years older, and so blatantly