Chapter Text
Sue doesn’t want to be here. She wants to be at home on the sofa, curled up with Pancake, watching mindless tv while he purrs into her elbow. That’s how she’d rather spend most of her evenings at the moment, if she’s being honest. Her New Year’s resolution was to be more social. She hasn’t really managed it. Not yet. It’s fine, she tells herself, she can work her way up to it. She doesn’t know many people here yet, it’s not like she’s avoiding social interaction. She’s just never found it too easy to make friends. She’ll get there.
Sue doesn’t want to be here, and she thinks about how little she wants to be here while half listening to Jane’s story about the cute guy who works at the café she goes to every morning, and how he spelled her name wrong on her cup and she thinks it’s a hint that he wants her to correct him to start a conversation. Jane, Sue has noticed, is quite oblivious when it comes to dating. She swirls the wine round in her glass, watching a burgundy whirlpool form at the bottom. Sue hates red wine, she doesn’t know why she asked for it. Did she ask for it? Or did someone just assume? She can barely remember getting here. The whole evening so far has passed her by, while she’s been daydreaming about the cup of tea she’s going to make herself when she gets home.
Apparently these work gatherings are a monthly occasion that people take turns to host. For six hours or so a month, these people who Sue has only known a couple of weeks, fill themselves with alcohol and pretend to like each other enough to socialise outside the office. Or that’s what it had sounded like. Now she’s here it seems that everyone she works with is closer than she had assumed. They have several text groups, of which Sue is in one (the general office chat), but it seems there are more that she is not a part of. A girls group, with Jane and a few of the other women in their department, evidently exists because they’re talking about texts that Sue never received. These dinners (or parties? Soirees? Sue doesn’t really know what they are yet) are also, she’s been told, a casual way to catch up with some of their clients. They’re a “casual office.” The kind that does dress down every day, and has bean bag chairs in the break room. Sue likes it. She appreciates being able to wear oversized sweatshirts to work and not having to worry about getting a passive aggressive email on office dress code.
“One time he gave me a free chocolate, you know those tiny ones they sell by the register? He said it was on the house.” Sue drifts back into the conversation. She assumes they’re still talking about Coffee Shop Guy.
“Just ask him out already” Hattie must be sick of hearing about him. “Give him your number, do something, otherwise I’m going to do it for you.” They laugh. Sue joins in.
“Okay, okay. I just need to find out his name first.” The girls shriek with laughter. Sue joins in again, or tries to. Then, once Jane has her breath back, she turns to her. “What about you, Sue? Anyone special?” This takes her by surprise. She doesn’t like talking about her love life. It’s messy. And most of it is irrelevant, since there was only ever one person she really cared about. She tries to think of an answer that will elicit the fewest questions.
“Not right now, no. Unless you count my cat.” They laugh, a little less enthusiastically than before. She doesn’t succeed in avoiding more questions. They feel like they’re coming at her from every corner of the room, is there anyone at work she likes, how many relationships has she had, has she met Dan in accounting because he’s really sweet. She nods and shakes her head appropriately, gives her answers as politely as possible, subtly avoids a question about what she looks for in guys, because frankly she doesn’t look for them at all.
People have been appearing all evening, but something about the newest arrival catches Sue’s eye. It’s the way their brown curls bounce slightly as they walk and the way they carry their leather jacket casually over their shoulder. The latest guest turns into the kitchen, where the group is standing, and Sue really doesn’t want to be here.
Sue doesn’t want to be here because Emily Dickinson is walking straight towards her for the first time in two years. She waves hello to Jane (actually she salutes. Emily can pull that kind of greeting off without looking weird and it’s infuriating) and pulls her in for a quick one armed hug, her jacket still in the other hand. She glances past Sue, barely batting an eyelid. Sue, on the other hand, has suddenly lost the ability to hear. The noise of the apartment that was earlier much too loud, sounds muffled, like they’re underwater, suspended in the open ocean.
“Oh my God, Sue you haven’t met.” Sue resurfaces. She resists the instinct to gasp for air. She puts her wine glass down on the counter, thinking that she’ll definitely drop it, because that’s what happens when Emily’s around. She’s the cool, calm, collected one and Sue devolves into a clumsy, barely functioning mess. “Emily is one of our biggest writers, remember we were talking about her new book at yesterday’s meeting?”
Sue, somehow, manages a polite smile and a quiet “hi”. Emily looks her up and down, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.
“We actually know each other already.” Emily smiles properly now, a dazzling grin that could charm anybody. Sue feels her knees start to tremble.
“That’s such a coincidence, how did you guys meet?” Abby seems genuinely shocked. Of course she does, Sue thinks. It must be insane to everyone else that she has ever been anywhere near the famous Emily Dickinson. Sue starts to say something. She’s not sure what yet, but she’s hoping her mouth will do the work for her.
“Um...I...we”
It doesn’t.
Emily, as usual, swoops in.
“We grew up in the same town, believe it or not. Small world.” Sue, her mouth still gaping open like a goldfish, nods in agreement. So they’re not telling anyone. Good. That saves Sue a lot of awkward conversations. She hopes. It’s not a lie exactly; they never put a label on anything, much to Emily’s annoyance. The conversation turns to her new book, which Sue hasn’t been able to read. It’s bad enough that the office is plastered with her face, she doesn’t think she could deal with actually reading words that Emily wrote. And there’s a good chance some of the words are about her. Or maybe not. Maybe Emily has moved on completely and Sue is the one stuck, unable to move or even speak when this woman walks into a room.
“So you two know each other from high school then? I bet you were best friends”, Abby babbles at them, still, it seems, in genuine shock. Again, Emily glances at Sue. Again, there’s something like a smirk on her face and Sue would give anything to be able to slap it off.
“Something like that.” She’s having fun with this. Sue can see it in her eyes. She’s enjoying torturing her. Sue picks her glass up and downs the wine. It stings as it trickles down her throat, and leaves a strange fuzzy feeling on her tongue. She immediately excuses herself, and speed walks in search of somewhere, anywhere to hide. She winds her way through crowds of her new work acquaintances, nodding hello to the ones who recognise her. She eventually reaches what she assumes is the bathroom and goes to open the door. She needs to splash some water on her face, or something. She’s too hot. The wine probably didn’t help. She turns the doorknob but it’s locked, and someone shouts from inside.
She turns around and heads for the window. Outside it is. She pulls back a French door to a cramped balcony, in which most of the space is taken up by large potted plants. There’s a chair though. The night air hits her and she gulps it in, finally able to breathe. Inside is humid and stifling. She wonders how long she can get away with being out here alone. She doesn’t know if she’ll be missed. She doesn’t know if she wants to be. She listens to the sound of the city below her. Jane’s apartment is high up and she can see the river, just, if she looks down a street between two taller buildings. Some days she goes to the bridge just to look at the water. She stands there for hours, watching the boats go past. Maybe she can stay out here for hours. She closes her eyes, and focuses on slowing her heart rate. She holds one nostril down, breathes in deeply, and swaps to the other nostril for her exhale. She’d read somewhere online that it helps with anxiety. Something about calming techniques, and rationalising situations. All Sue knows is it makes her feel in control, even if just for a few seconds. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out.
“You got a cold or something?” Fantastic. Just what she needs. She lets go of her nose and looks up at Emily, who’s holding two bottles of beer. She sits on the edge of one of Jane’s enormous plant pots and holds a bottle out to Sue. “Thought you’d prefer this. God knows why you were drinking wine. Red too, what was that about?”
“It’s what I was given.” She takes the bottle from Emily, condensation dripping onto her wrist, conscious not to touch the hand offering it to her. Emily takes a sip of her own drink.
“Did you ask for something else?”
“No, I’m polite.”
“Hm. There’s your problem.” They sit in silence for a while. Sue makes sure to stare straight ahead, but she can feel Emily’s eyes on her. After a while Emily decides she’s bored of the quiet.
“So you work in publishing now? That’s cool.” Sue doesn’t know what she expected. Of course she was going to run into Emily if she took a job with her publisher. She’d known she was their client, she was organised and had done extensive research into everywhere she applied. But it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, and she’d be damned if she’d let Emily be the reason she didn’t take it.
“Yeah. I only started here a few weeks ago, but I worked at another office before. Congratulations on your book. Everyone’s excited about it, it must be pretty good.”
Emily scoffs. “Must be? You haven’t read it?”
Sue looks her dead in the eyes now. Two could play at whatever game this was.
“No.”
Emily nearly chokes on her beer. Sue stops the smile that's forming on her lips. She’s cool, calm and collected. She can be cold and intimidating. She’s never tried it but she’s sure she could.
“Wow. And you said you were polite.” Emily meets her eyes. She stares at her for a moment. And then erupts into snorts of laughter. In spite of herself, Sue smiles (she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long) and laughs with her. She’s intoxicating. That’s the problem with her. Sue always gets drunk on Emily. They laugh until they run out of breath and, grinning now, Sue looks up at her.
“Seriously though, I haven’t read it because. Y’know. Felt weird.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Emily smiles at her. It’s warm this time. Not like her annoying smirk earlier. She runs her fingers through her hair and sighs. She looks, as always, unbelievably beautiful, in her own effortless Emily way, and it’s all Sue can do not to stare. She carries on.
“I can’t believe it’s been so long.”
“Two years.” Sue wonders if Emily’s been counting the days too. Probably not. Emily is self assured and sticks to her decisions absolutely. To count the days would mean she regretted it.
“Huh. I always thought I’d run into you, I always run into people I know here. But never you. Until tonight.” Sue nods, pretending she doesn’t actively avoid Emily’s neighbourhood and all her favourite cafes and restaurants. “Still you looked surprised to see me.” Sue laughs dryly. She did notice her gormless expression when she walked in then.
“Guess I should’ve been prepared. You’re all anyone talks about at work.”
“That’s nice of them.” Sue doesn’t know why she’s trying to boost Emily’s ego. It’s not like she needs it. She used to be the first person to read her poems, the only person who got to edit or make suggestions, before Emily got published. Some naïve part of her thought that might carry on after they ended things, that they might stay friends, or at least professional acquaintances. But Emily left that night and didn’t come back. A silence settles between them again. Sue wouldn’t describe it as comfortable, but it’s a silence all the same. Emily glances at her, but this time she can’t hold her gaze. She moves her eyes to the floor, watching patterns in the concrete. “For what it’s worth Sue. I’m sorry it. Y’know. I’m sorry we ended things the way we did.” Sue hadn’t quite expected her to acknowledge it. She thought they were just going to avoid the subject, but here they are, talking about it like grownups. It’s friendlier than she would have expected. It’s awkward, yes, but friendly. But maybe a work event isn’t the best place to have a shouting match with your ex.
“Yeah, me too.” Sue tries to remember exactly what happened. It’s a bit of a blur, but one thing stands out. “Did I...throw something at you?” Emily laughs now, and looks up at her.
“It was a hairdryer.” Sue covers her mouth with her hand. In her head it had been a small book or something. Her hairdryer is heavy.
“Oh god. I’m so sorry, I forgot. Did I at least miss?”
“Just about.” Sue buries her head in her hands. Her memory had rewritten everything. It always does, stops her feeling things she doesn’t want to feel. It’s a survival tactic but sometimes it feels like she’s going mad.
Emily drains the rest of her beer and stands. Sue watches as she stretches her arms in the air, exposing her midriff the smallest amount. “It’s cold out here. Coming back inside?” She holds her hand out to Sue, who looks at it for a second, deciding whether she’s ready. Emily notices. She always notices. “Come on Sue, you can touch me, I won’t bite.” She gives in and lets Emily pull her up from the (quite broken, it turns out) chair. Electric shocks course through Sue’s veins when they touch, sending her heart rate back up after she tried so hard to lower it. Her head spins slightly, and she’s not sure if it’s from standing too quickly or the hand that’s holding her own. Emily gestures to the door, letting Sue go first.
“Hey, Gilbert?” Sue turns round. “It’s good to see you.” She can’t remember the words she’s supposed to say in response to that. She’s sure there’s a polite thing she should say but for the life of her she can’t think of them, so she nods and smiles, hoping that’s enough. Emily grins and makes her way back to the kitchen, leaving Sue glued to the spot, watching her go.