Two days later, we sat in the boardroom at the Gucci factory. Lights dimmed as a movie screen slid down the wall. We watched old black-and-white video clips of workers smiling and waving at the camera, holding up shoes, sitting at workbenches, leaning over sewing machines. These were followed by photos of princesses, actresses, wives of presidents wearing Gucci dresses, coats, scarves. The End. We swiveled our chairs toward glass windows overlooking the modern factory floor: men and women in white coats and protective glasses sitting at stations under bright lights, some sewing at machines, others by hand. Our guide explained how the materials were processed in China but assembled in Italy. She passed around swaths of animal skin—crocodile, alligator, cowhide from Texas.
We followed her to a small museum where mannequins were dressed in the Gucci fashions of each era. Kelly reached for my wrist, pulling me close and nodding at a purse in the mannequin’s hand. “That’s an elephant ear.” Kelly cupped her hands over my ear. “Elephant feet are like stethoscopes. They can feel the earth hundreds of miles away. Their trunks are able to smell and feel at the same time. Their memories are better than ours. They’re disappearing, going extinct.”
Aria saw us looking at the elephant ear. “It’s old,” she said, pulling me away and glaring at Kelly. “Can’t you read the date?”
I was Aria’s chosen friend, and that night I slept over at her villa. I sensed her bad mood and didn’t know why. “You like Madonna, don’t you?”
“I thanked you twice already.”
After she put on her nightie, she knelt on the floor and clasped her hands. I was surprised that she prayed. Opening her eyes, she told me, “You shouldn’t watch people when they pray.” When she finished, she lay down next to me on the narrow bed, our arms touching. “Today wasn’t that fun. Kelly ruined it.” She stared at the ceiling. “You like Fernando, I can tell.”
“No, I don’t.”
She turned on her side and studied me. “We can both like him. Just like our mothers both like your father.”
I turned on my side, facing away, my throat aching. I missed being younger, who I used to be, and I blamed my parents for bringing me here, for making me change.
When I woke the next morning, Aria was already awake, putting polish on her toenails with her new pedicure set, a gift from Kelly. When I sat up, she kept applying her second coat. “You should get ready to go.”