Page 71 of Meant to Be

Curtis sat on my bed and smoothed the bedcovers around him, ignoring me. “We need to think high-end lifestyle here, for sure…Slim Aarons…Babe Paley…Bunny Mellon….”

“Or, say, Dottie Kingsley?”

“Oh my God,yes. Yes! Good point,” he said, pressing one hand to his temple. “Can youbelievethis is happening?”

“Nothing ishappening,” I said, though I knew what he meant.

“Well, it’saboutto happen,” Curtis said. “It’son,girl.”

I laughed, but couldn’t help feeling a little excited, too.

“Now, let’s see…what bag will you be packing?”

“Are we talking about mysuitcase?”

“Yes,” he said. “But you know you can’t take an actualsuitcase,right?”

“I can’t?” I said, glancing over at the carry-on-size roller bag I’d already pulled from my closet.

He followed my eyes and looked horrified. “That thing?” he asked, pointing. “No way.”

“What in the world, Curtis? It’s a basic black bag!”

“Still. No,” he said. “You’ll look like a flight attendant.”

“What’s wrong with being a flight attendant?” I said, shifting into my defensive, contrarian mode.

“Oh, stop. You know what I mean. There’s nothing wrong with being a flight attendant. Nor is there anything wrong with a basic black suitcase,” Curtis said. “But it’s the wrong look…. You’re not going on a business trip. You’reweekending.”

I gave him a pointed look, then said, “Please never use that as a verb again.”

“But that’s what you’re doing. You’reweekending,” he repeated with extra panache. “In the Hamptons. With the Kingsleys. So you’re going to need a satchel of some sort.”

“Asatchel?” I laughed.

“Soft luggage. Like a Louis Vuitton duffel. Or a brown leather bag, well worn with a beautiful patina. Like it’s been all around the world.”

“That suitcasehasbeen around the world—and I hardly have time to get a leather bag patinaed in the next few days,” I said.

“Yeah. No. I’m sorry. That thing is depressingly pedestrian. What else do you have? Anything with a patrician vibe?”

I laughed. “You’re absurd.”

“Okay, how about a duffel?”

“Sorry. No.”

“You don’t own a singleduffel?”

“Not the kind of duffel you’re talking about.”

“What kind is it?”

“An L.L.Bean tote bag,” I said, thinking of the one that Wendy’s mother had given me long ago.

Curtis pursed his lips, thinking. “I think we can work with that…. The large size?”

I nodded.

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