As the Crow Flies, page 19
“A very basic understanding.” Samantha grinned. “I’m not as smart as I sound.”
Gwen laughed. “You’re certainly smart enough.”
“Well, as you know, my background is in biology and forensic science, not physics. When I get ideas, I try to learn enough that my novels make theoretical sense.” Samantha paused as the server brought coffee. “I know we exist in space-time, three dimensions of space, one dimension of time, all of it governed by gravity, electromagnetism, and the two nuclear forces.”
“That’s the basis of classical physics that made way for the industrial revolution and astrophysics.” Gwen poured cream and stirred her coffee. “Its focus, though, is on the macrocosm, on harnessing those forces. But the quantum mechanics that makes today’s technology possible, including all those electronic devices we can’t seem to live without, focuses on a microcosm invisible to the naked eye. And what goes on in that subatomic world is shocking. So shocking that some physicists suspect the universe may be part of an intelligent design…that the big bang might not have been an accident…that we could be living in a simulation, right alongside other dimensions hidden from our senses because,” she tapped the side of her head, “our minds are trapped inside this organic computer programed to function in only a three-dimensional world.”
“You’re talking about string theory.” Their dessert arrived and Samantha slid the plate between them. “All matter is composed of vibrating strings of energy, like strands of pearls, in a ten-dimensional universe that can be worked out mathematically but not yet proven.”
“Well, the math doesn’t work without at least ten dimensions. There may be many more, depending on which version of superstring theory appeals to you.”
Samantha gazed at Gwen, delighted by the quiet excitement of their conversation. “And what, may I ask, makes a philosopher so interested in quantum physics?”
“All philosophers are fascinated by it. And if that ‘theory of everything’ they’re working on ever succeeds in reconciling Einstein’s general theory of relativity with quantum mechanics, it may prove to be the holy grail of not only science but of philosophy and theology.”
“Hmm.” Samantha stuck out her bottom lip as she pondered this possibility. “I guess I can see how the two fields share a similar quest.”
“Absolutely. Philosophers ask why we are here, why any of this is here, and physicists ask how it is here.” Gwen cut into the key lime pie with a fork and held it out to Samantha’s mouth. “Open up,” she said.
Samantha took it, still feeling a little awkward, still mildly intimidated by Dr. Laraway but pleased by the intimate gesture. “Mmm, that’s really good.”
Gwen watched with the hint of a smile as Samantha savored the tangy bite and swallowed. “You’ve read about particle accelerators.”
“Atom smashers.”
Gwen laughed. “Yes. There’s the famous Large Hadron Collider, for one, and thousands of others in nuclear-research laboratories around the world. And while applications in everything from nuclear medicine and robotics to quantum computers are astounding, the philosophical implications are truly uncanny.” She paused to sample the key lime pie. “Mmm. That is good,” she said. “But here’s what fascinates me. You can pair two particles of light, two photons, so that they become unified, intrinsically linked. Then you can separate them again—keep one here and send the other three hundred miles into space. You’d think the two would be separated forever. But they aren’t. They continue to read each other, correlate, communicate. Anything you do to one affects the other. No one knows how.”
“Entanglement.”
“That’s right. Quantum entanglement. Spooky action at a distance, as Einstein called it. And since we’re all made of particles, entanglement could explain why we stay emotionally connected to certain people even when separated by great distances. Or why, when we’re thinking of someone in particular, the phone suddenly rings.”
“That is spooky.” Samantha picked up a fork and helped herself to another bite of pie. “Do you think entanglement could explain love at first sight?”
“Hmm…” A glint of amused acknowledgment danced in Gwen’s eyes, as though she knew where this was leading, but she kept her tone academic. “Well, let’s see. If you use entanglement to explain it, then love at first sight would really have to be love at second sight, wouldn’t it? Two strangers who catch each other’s eye at a party and feel an instant attraction would have to have been previously paired, intimately linked…perhaps in one of those past lives you’ve mentioned.”
Samantha tried not to grin, but she couldn’t help it. “In other words, what would seem a first meeting would really be a reunion, a moment of recognition between separated soul mates…or twin flames, as they’re sometimes called.”
“Exactly.” Gwen rested her elbows on the table, coffee cup cradled in both hands, and peered at Samantha over the rim as if to gauge her reaction. “The other night, when you gave that analogy about your mother’s soul being backed up on a cosmic flash drive…well, it got me to thinking about an article I wrote not long after Alley started appearing.”
“On entanglement?”
“That and other concepts, like nonlocality and superposition, which means that once things are linked together in a quantum system they’re able to exist in multiple states at the same time. I started wondering whether the force of a soul entering an earthly body at the speed of light causes it to somehow divide. Maybe one half enters us and the other remains in the other dimensions, feeling, experiencing, recording the events of its corporeal life.”
“So what happens to the mortal self here on earth is happening to the eternal self somewhere else.” Samantha considered this. “I’d love to read your article.”
“When we get back to the house I’ll give you a copy of the journal in which it appeared. I think you’ll recognize a lot of your own thoughts and ideas.”
“Do you think you and Alley are entangled?”
“On a fundamental level I think we’re all entangled. And if there’s a God, then we’re entangled with our creator, no? How else is it possible to pray and be heard?”
“Wow, that takes wireless communication to a whole new level…or would that be wireless communion?”
“Ha. That’s funny, Sam. Wireless communion it is. But bottom line, as much as classical physics deals with certainties and predictabilities in the universe, quantum physics deals with probabilities and possibilities. And the possibilities are absolutely mind-blowing.”
“My mind is blown.” Samantha licked whipped cream off her lip and smiled. “Thank you for agreeing to have lunch with me. I enjoy your company…and our conversations. They’re as rich as this key lime pie,” Samantha said and finished the last bite.
“Ditto.” Gwen smiled just a little and hesitated before she spoke again. “Do you have plans for the Fourth of July?”
“It’s this weekend already, isn’t it? I totally lose track of days when I’m writing.”
“If you’re free, I have two tickets to a Saturday-night performance at Jacob’s Pillow.”
“What’s that?”
“One of the oldest internationally acclaimed dance festivals in the country. It’s just a few miles from here. If you’d like to join me, we can have dinner on the grounds, under the tent. I’ll make reservations.”
“I’d like that.”
“And you know the guest room is always there for you, Sam, so think about spending the night. We can stay up late, watching the stars and pondering the probabilities and possibilities of the universe.”
Samantha saw her opportunity and dared to take it. “And when we’re finished with that…can we discuss the probability and possibility of us?”
Gwen was about to finish her coffee when she put her cup back down and sighed. “Sam, I’m going to be honest,” she said, a wistfulness washing over her face. “One evening just last week, I was relaxing with music and a magazine when the phone rang—an out-of-the-blue call from some mystery writer looking to marry off her bookend—and I haven’t been the same since.” She reached across the table, smiling affectionately as she covered Samantha’s hand with her own. “I felt an instant chemistry over the phone, as crazy as that might sound, and when I laid eyes on you, the physical attraction was immediate. But I’m content with my life and not looking to complicate it.”
“Is that what I am, a complication?”
“A surprisingly wonderful and deeply tempting complication that’s had me walking around in a deliciously delirious fog these past few days.”
“I’ve been walking around in the same fog. That must have been you I bumped into.” Samantha took Gwen’s hand and ran a thumb back and forth across her palm.
“I love reading your books, Sam. And I love being with you. You make me laugh and wonder and look up words I don’t know.” She slid her hand up to Samantha’s wrist and squeezed it. “If I were ten years younger, or you ten years older, I could fall madly in love with you. But an age difference of over twelve years is a big issue. For me it is. I do, however, look forward to what promises to be a very dear and lasting friendship.”
Samantha didn’t hear most of what Gwen said. Her brain didn’t pay attention to the part about issues, age differences, or friendship. All that registered was, I could fall madly in love with you. That’s all she needed to hear. She’d met her soul mate, her twin flame. They were entangled. Samantha was sure of it. Now she just needed to figure out a way to turn a probability into a predictability, a possibility into a certainty.
Chapter Eighteen
Isabel was sitting on the porch steps with her duffel bag and the two dogs when Liz arrived at seven on Friday morning. In long shorts, sneakers, and a hoodie, she looked like a kid waiting for the bus to take her to summer camp. Liz still couldn’t believe Isabel had agreed to come. It stirred in her the excitement of a hunter who’d captured its prey, but instead of eating this one she’d be keeping her as a pet.
Liz rolled down the window of the van, lowered her sunglasses, and looked at Isabel over them. “Good morning, darlin’. You ready to rock and roll?” she asked with a big grin.
It seemed Isabel would have preferred to rock and roll herself right back into the house, but she stood her ground. “Ready,” she said.
The dogs watched expectantly, their faces lighting with recognition as Liz got out, stuffing something into the pocket of her skinny jeans, and crouched to give them an exuberant greeting. “Hi, babies!” she called out. Blue rushed off the porch, clearly overjoyed to see her again. Loosey Goosey followed in close pursuit, her rump wiggling in rhythm with the stump of her docked tail. “I have a comforter for them to lie on,” she said as Isabel carried her duffel bag down the steps. “You can arrange things any way you want.” And then she stood and looked at Isabel. “Is Gwen asleep?”
“I think so. Why, would you like me to make coffee?”
“No. I had a venti vanilla latte from Starbucks over two hours ago. I really need to pee.” She smiled crookedly. “Would you be able to get me a pen and paper and let me into the cottage?”
“Of course!” Isabel’s eyes wandered down to the bulge near the crotch of Liz’s pants.
Liz caught the concern on her face. She looked down at herself and laughed. “Don’t worry, Isabel. I’m not packing.” She pulled it out and held it up. “See? It’s a tape measure. I need to take some measurements in there.”
“Sure.” Isabel nodded. I’ll get the key.”
When Liz came back out, Isabel led her quietly past Rosa’s cottage and unlocked the door of the vacant one. It was empty except for a sawhorse and power tools scattered on a floor that had been taken down to the substrate. The dogs pushed past them to sniff and explore the large room.
Morning sun poured in from a skylight, drawing Liz’s eyes to the unfinished wood on the cathedral ceiling. “New pine planks?”
“Some had to come down because of a leak in the old roof, so we replaced them all.”
“Nice.” They stood side by side, their soft voices echoing in the hollow space. “What are you going to do to them?” Liz asked.
“Whatever you think.”
“Really?”
“You have free rein.”
“Oh, goody!” She stared up at them. “Let’s have them whitewashed.” She looked at the rustic stone fireplace on the far-right wall. “Wood-burning?”
“Yes.”
“Those stones are beautiful. What’s the square footage in here, around four hundred?”
“About that. And then there’s the bathroom and bedroom.” Isabel pointed to closed double doors to the left of the kitchen.
“Maybe we could get rid of those solid doors and put in a sliding barn-wood door with some nice rustic hardware.”
Isabel’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea. I love those doors.”
Liz ran to the bathroom and, when she came out, stopped in the kitchen to inspect the new granite counter and bar. “Four stools here,” she said, making mental notes to herself, then smoothed her hand across the white stone with specks and blotches of black and gray. “Beautiful,” she said. “What about the floor?”
“Rosa’s boyfriend, Eugene, has a flooring business. He was here last week. We were thinking oak with a walnut stain.”
“With this gray stone fireplace and beautiful granite?” Liz frowned and shook her head. “Call and tell him to hold off. I’m picturing a driftwood-gray finish like we discussed, something wide-planked with a nice matte aesthetic. Eugene can install it. If you want to meet me in the city I can take you to see—”
“It’s not necessary. I love everything you’re describing.”
“Do you have a budget?” Liz asked.
“No.”
Silly question, Liz thought. “Well then, if you’ll trust my taste I can order flooring pre-finished from an ecofriendly company I use. They make nice hardwoods with a quality birch core, all manufactured from sustainably sourced wood, which I would think is important to you.”
“Absolutely. Do it.”
Turning in a circle to look at everything, Liz clasped her hands and held them to her chest. “I’m so excited about decorating. It’s a great space with great energy. And it’s going to be beautiful!” She stopping turning when she caught Isabel staring at her. She detected something she hadn’t seen in those golden-brown eyes before. A glint of admiration, a hint of curiosity, a speck of desire, if she wasn’t mistaken.
Caught staring, Isabel quickly looked away and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, something Liz noticed Isabel doing whenever she felt suddenly shy. It made her want to gently back Isabel up against the wall and kiss her right there. Instead, she got busy taking measurements, calling them out for Isabel to jot down.
Ten minutes later they were on the road, taking Route 102 a few miles to the Massachusetts Turnpike, and it wasn’t until they reached the toll booth that Liz finally asked, “So? Have you figured out where Paris is?”
“Well, when you invited the dogs, I knew we weren’t going to France.” Isabel glanced at her with a smirk. “So, I looked up towns named Paris in the United States. Did you know there are twenty-three?”
Liz laughed. “I did not know that.”
The only ones close enough to reach in an afternoon are in Connecticut and New York, but since you said summer nights get really cold, I figured we’d be heading farther north. That would put us in Oxford County, Maine. So my answer is Maine. Final answer.”
“Ha! Maine it is.” Liz laughed at herself for thinking she could keep their destination a surprise. “I should have known I couldn’t fool you, but don’t think you’re too slick, Ms. Laraway. I still might have a surprise in store for you.”
An hour later they stopped at a rest area and ate breakfast in the car. Isabel had already fed the dogs, but they enjoyed a few bites along with some treats Liz had bought for them. And then they were on their way again, listening to music and talking about New England as they drove through Massachusetts and New Hampshire.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Salem,” Liz said.
“You need to book well in advance if you want to go near Halloween.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Yeah, but I’d go again,” Isabel said, as if offering to accompany her.
“How about the Cape? Have you ever been to Provincetown?”
“Many times. Growing up, I spent the month of July there almost every summer. Gwen and Jean, my aunt’s ex, always rented a house on the bay…until they separated.”
“That must have been like going through a divorce.”
“It was. Jean was family.”
It was so strange that Isabel had grown up with two lesbians, exposed to gay men and women and the LGBT community. She knew all about Commercial Street and its restaurants, all about the comedy and drag shows. She talked about Gwen always attending book signings at Womancraft, about being on the beach at Herring Cove with their dog, Alley, about spending time along Whale’s Wharf while Gwen and Jean went to tea dances at the Boat Slip.
Yet Isabel seemed so sheltered, so out of touch, as though she didn’t know where she belonged in all of it. She was a paradox, unless Liz’s gaydar had developed a serious glitch. Who knew, maybe Isabel really was straight. Maybe she just had a low sex drive, little desire for romance, and preferred to focus on the family business and her many other interests. “Do you keep in touch with Jean?”
“I used to spend a weekend with her every so often, but considering she left my aunt for one of her graduate students, it was awkward. Especially after they moved in together.”
“I can understand that.” Liz looked over at her. “What’s Gwen doing this weekend?”
