Page 9 of Troy Story
When Mort wasn’t bragging about his recent cruise through the Mediterranean, Clarissa was gushing with excitement over the dig. “I’m so thrilled to be working at Troy. When I was at the University of Boston, I minored in Classics and readThe Iliadtwice. It’s amazing to think I could uncover artifacts from the time of the Trojan War. But when I read about the site, it seemed so confusing, what with all those layers of history.”
Stuart nodded. “Ten layers, covering thousands of years of occupation. But we’ll be concentrating on the layer dating to the Late Bronze Age. That’s when the Trojan War supposedly took place.”
“It’s all so exciting. I’ve always dreamed of joining a dig, but I never imagined I’d work on one of such significance.”
“Go big or go home, right?” Mort said. “Who knows what treasures we’ll find?”
Probably broken pottery. And then, more pottery.Based on her experiences in the field, Dusty suspected they’d devote most of their time to hauling up buckets of potsherds, animal bones, and the occasional bronze tool. Or they’d spend hours scraping their trowels along rows of stones that might be architectural features. But she wasn’t about to burst Mort’s bubble.
If anything, she was trying to behave, to make up for the way she’d snapped at Stuart earlier. She knew her snark had been unwarranted, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. Even now, she was overcome with a peevishness she couldn’t explain. It didn’t help that Mort and Clarissa were doting on Stuart as if he were an archaeological wunderkind.
Let it go. If you let them upset you, you’ll have a miserable summer.
“Dusty?” Stuart asked.
She startled, suddenly aware the others were looking at her.“Sorry. What was it? I’m a little tired from today’s bus ride.”
“I was telling Mort that you’ve been on more excavations than I have,” Stuart said. “You’re in such high demand as an illustrator that we were lucky you agreed to join us.”
A warmth spread through her, easing a little of her heartache. But before she could speak up, Clarissa beat her to it. “That’s wonderful. I’m something of an artist myself.”
“She’s being modest,” Mort said. “Not only is Clarissa a fabulous art teacher, but she’s truly gifted. A friend of mine runs a children’s publishing firm in Boston, and he’s used her work for two of their picture books. One of them won a library medal, if you can imagine.”
Dusty knocked back the rest of her wine in one quick swallow. Illustrating children’s books was a dream of hers, along with creating her own graphic novels. And this woman, this beautiful Shelby-clone who’d appeared out of nowhere, had already achieved it. “Congrats.”
Clarissa reached for the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. “It’s just something I do on the side. When I’m not reading up on Greek mythology or volunteering at the animal shelter.”
Or saving the world.
Aware Mort was staring at her, Dusty stiffened. Had she allowed her resting bitch face to peek out? Even if she was wallowing in jealousy, she couldn’t let it show. “Mort? Were you about to ask me something?”
“When you introduced yourself earlier, your last name sounded familiar,” he said. “I just put the pieces together. You wouldn’t be related to Dr. Louisa Danforth, would you?”
And there it is.“Yep. She’s my mom.”
“Well, then. Color me impressed. I’ve been a fan of hers for years. In fact, I’m hoping to go on one of her Ancient Excursions jaunts this fall. She’s giving an exclusive tour of Egypt, with access to places tourists aren’t allowed to visit. Any chance she’d be interested in joining us for part of the dig? What a thrill that would be.”
Dusty sucked in a tight breath. She couldn’t think of anything worse than having her mother show up and spend all summer in full nag mode. “She doesn’t work in the field as much anymore. Besides, she’s an Egyptologist, so she’s all about Ancient Egypt. Mummies, pharaohs, hieroglyphics, you know what I mean?”
Mort harrumphed. “I’m well aware of what an Egyptologist studies, and—”
“We’d still love to meet her,” Clarissa said quickly. “When she hosted the showAncient Histories—Ancient Mysteries, we watched every episode. She’s brilliant.”
If it were possible, Dusty felt even smaller now.
Why am I here? Why not invite my brilliant mother to take my place? And hire Clarissa to do all the archaeological illustrations?
Thankfully, Mort began peppering Stuart with more questions about Troy.
For the rest of the evening, Dusty didn’t say another word. She didn’t need to. Her presence was entirely inconsequential.
* * *
After dinner,Mort dropped them off at the field house and returned to his hotel. Dusty dashed inside, desperate to put some distance between herself and Clarissa. She needed to get her emotions under control before she said something she’d regret. But no sooner did she enter her room than Clarissa followed. Even if the field house was nearly empty, it was just Dusty’s luck she was sharing a bedroom with the person she least wanted to see.
Half watching as Clarissa began unpacking her carry-on bag, Dusty plopped down on her bed. Only then did she notice a baseball cap bearing a logo of the Trojan horse, propped up on one of the pillows. It was identical to the one Stuart had been wearing earlier, except in a navy blue that almost matched the purple streak in her hair. As she picked it up, a lump formed in her throat. More than ever, she felt terrible that she’d lashed out at him.
Clarissa glanced over at her. “That’s a cute hat. Do we all get one?”
