Chapter Text
The air was close, nearly stifling, and heavy with the smell of buttered popcorn; I could almost feel the grease settling on my skin. I moved through the crowds toward my seat, arms tight at my sides, brushing up against as few of the other patrons as possible.
...why did I say that? Now he’ll think I’m an...
...meeting at 7am after sitting through…
...eventually I’ll...
...crowded! We should have gone to a later...
...so pretty. How does she get her hair so shiny? I…
...maybe meatballs? Or...
I sighed in relief as I sat on the questionably clean red cushion of my seat. My shoes made a sucking sound as I lifted my feet from the sticky floor and put them on the back of the seat in front of me. I let my head fall back against the seat and closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the comparative silence after the chaos of so many people’s thoughts swarming in my head.
“Are you okay, Betty?”
I jumped at the voice, and turned to my date with a chagrined smile. “I’m great, Matt, just a long day at work.”
“You’re a psychiatrist, right?”
“Psychologist, kind of. I don’t have my doctorate yet. I work mostly with kids. I love their innocence; I love seeing the world through their eyes.”
“Yeah, kids are great. How long have you been doing that?” He looked at me with sincere brown eyes, and I felt my heart beat a bit faster. Easy, Betty . I glanced down at the plastic cup holder between us, examining the bits of popcorn adhering to the pop residue inside.
“I volunteered and interned at the hospital during high school and university, so it feels like I’ve been doing it forever, but I guess it’s only been a year since I’ve actually been able to see patients myself. And in three years I’ll have my doctorate and be official.” A happy smile creased my cheeks as I imagined that wondrous day. “What about you? You’re in advertising?”
“Um, yeah, just started though. Can’t say I like being at the bottom of the pecking order.” He brushed his sandy hair back out of his eyes, and I noticed acne scars on his temple. I kind of liked them – they were a nice reminder that he was an imperfect human, like me. Was I human, though? Matt stirred in his seat. Right, I was on a date. Not the time for an existential crisis.
“You won’t stay at the bottom forever, Matt.” I encouraged, leaning a little closer to him. He smelled like peppermint.
“No, of course not. I’ve got a lot of raw talent – I’ll be one of the big shots in no time.” He grinned at me. His smile lit up his whole face, and graduated him from ‘pleasant’ to ‘good looking.’
I smiled back widely. The lights dimmed, and the previews began. I settled back in my chair, anticipating ninety minutes of sappy, unrealistic romance. I was a sucker for a good romance.
Near the end of the film, as the heroine realised that the scoundrel she hated was actually a good guy and maybe she loved him, Matt reached over and took my hand. His fingers were unnaturally smooth, as if he had never done a day’s physical labour in his life. Weird.
...dates are the perfect cover for watching romcoms (the guys would never let me live it down if they knew). And they have the added benefit of letting the girl think I’m making a sacrifice for her...maybe she’ll want to even the score...no! Why would he do that?! Just tell her the truth, Stupid. Ugh, now there’ll be at least twenty minutes of angst before they...
I smiled a little to myself and tried to focus on the movie, although it was hard with Matt’s running commentary in my head. After griping about the male lead’s bad decision making for several minutes he moved on to thinking about work: how much he disliked one particular coworker, then trying to think up a campaign that would rocket him to stardom. Ordinary thoughts, but still very distracting,almost to the point that I wished I were watching the movie with someone else - someone who didn’t want to touch me.
We ate ice cream at a cute little shop across the street from the theatre, then Matt offered to drive me home. “Don’t worry Betty. My car may look like she’s about to fall apart, but she’s reliable.”
“She?” I laughed. “Don’t tell me you named your car.”
Matt blushed as he held open the passenger door for me. “Claudia,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for me to hear.
I lowered myself onto the worn leather seat, laughing, and he shut the door. Maybe he really was one of the good ones, maybe he wasn’t being nice just to get in my pants or to appease our mutual friend who had insisted on setting us up.
He seemed a little nervous on the drive to my apartment, and kept shooting glances at me. I wanted to know what was going on in his head, but there was no inconspicuous way to touch him. He had both hands on the wheel, and the bucket seats didn’t allow for me to ‘accidentally’ touch his leg with mine. I would have to wallow in ignorance, like a normal person. How frustrating.
Matt continued to be gentlemanly when we pulled up in front of my apartment, running around the car to open the door for me, even though I had already gotten out. I patted the roof of his car. “Thank you, Claudia, for using what were likely the last minutes of your life to get me home. May you rest in peace.”
Matt glared at me, and rubbed the hood fondly. “Don’t listen to her, Claudia. You’ve got a lot of life in you yet.” He walked with me up to the front door of the building, twisting a class ring on his finger.
I pulled my keys out of my pocket, and turned to him. “Thanks for a fun night, Matt.”
“I had fun, too.” He stepped a little closer, eyes flicking between my eyes and my lips. He leaned in, watching my reaction. When his lips touched mine, his thoughts, so much more vivid at this contact than just with hands, flooded through my head.
...ohhh, yes, this is what I needed. After a day like today... images of people, a workplace, tinted with the grey of frustration, flashed quickly... I need a good lay. Betty’s not bad, a little chubbier than I like, but from what I’ve heard her sister is drop-dead gorgeous. I can overlook freckles for one night for a chance to meet Jane, maybe she’ll...
I backed quickly away from him, disappointment leeching away the thrill I had been feeling a few moments ago. “Goodnight Matt,” I mumbled, and hurried inside before he could react. I ran up the stairs to the fourth-floor apartment I shared with my older sister, Jane, fighting back the tears I could feel coming.
“How did it go?” Jane’s voice floated out from her bedroom. I hastily wiped my cheeks and forced a smile.
“It was fine. I really liked the movie.” I shrugged nonchalantly, and tossed my keys in the bowl by the door as I stepped out of my shoes.
Jane looked at me shrewdly. She always knew when I was holding back. “And?”
I sighed. “I thought he was nice – when we held hands at the theatre, he was complaining about the movie, and planning stuff for work, but he was really nice, and fun to talk to. I thought maybe…” I shook my head to dislodge the daydream of a guy whose thoughts I could enjoy listening to (and who could put up with me). “We kissed, and all he wanted was to sleep with me to blow off some steam.” And a chance to meet you. “Are my freckles really that bad?”
“Your freckles are adorable, Betty.” She pulled me into a hug, and I could hear her, listing all the things she admired about me, with the rosy tint of love laying over it. I could also hear, in the background of her thoughts, what she probably didn’t want me to know: that she wished I could be normal, not only for my own peace of mind, but for hers, also. It was good, knowing that a guy was only being nice so he could sleep with you, but bad too – ignorance was nice, sometimes – a luxury I didn’t have.
“I’m never going on a date again. It’s hopeless.”
Jane pulled back. She knew it was hard for me to carry on a conversation when I could hear both thoughts and words, running over top of each other. “There is somebody for everybody, I firmly believe that. You will find a guy who loves you for you. He’s out there somewhere.”
“Right.” I forced a laugh. “That sounds like a line from the movie I just watched.” Hearing what people thought in the privacy of their minds had jaded me – it was hard to believe in love and goodness when everyone’s thoughts spoke the exact opposite. “I’m going to bed.” I kissed her forehead quickly. I caught a flash of prussian blue, of sadness, in her thoughts. “Love you Janie.”
*
I was lying on our beat up leather couch a few days later, my feet hanging over the edge, reading a biography of Julie Andrews, when Jane burst through the door. Her pink lips were spread in a large smile, showing her perfectly straight white teeth, and her blue eyes sparkled brightly. She was practically glowing. “Meet Prince Charming, Jane?” I asked with a snicker. Jane volunteered at a local senior’s centre on Saturdays - not the most likely place to meet a guy younger than ninety.
“Actually…” She bent down to take off her shoes, but I could still make out the blush staining her cheeks.
“Really?” I sat up quickly enough to make me momentarily dizzy. “Tell me more.”
“Well…” She sat on the couch next to me, tucking her feet up under her. “As I was walking home, I was thinking about Doris, you know how depressed she is that her family doesn’t visit... Maybe we could gather some people to go see her? I bet Char would go, and perhaps Ruth and Anne, too.”
“That’s a great idea Jane. You can count me in, too. Doris is a hoot.”
Jane grinned again. “Oh she’ll love that!” She pulled out the elastic holding her hair back and combed her fingers through her sable locks. “So I was lost in thought, and I went to cross the road without looking, and a car was coming, but someone pulled me back out of the way. He was very nice, and very good looking.” Jane blushed. “We, I don’t know, we just clicked, and we went for coffee and talked for hours. I really like him,” she admitted shyly.
“What’s his name?”
“Charlie. Charlie Bingley.” She blushed just saying his name.
“You want me to check him?” I asked, smiling. Jane only had me ‘check’ a guy if she thought things might go somewhere.
“Yes...and no. Maybe I don’t want to know if he only wants me as a trophy.”
“Better now than after you’re engaged. Where and when?”
“Tomorrow at eleven, at Rosie’s. They have small tables, so you should be able to touch his leg without it being suspicious.”
I nodded, but sighed internally. I hated brunch. It was for pretentious snobs.
“Charlie is bringing his friend, so you won’t have to worry about being a third wheel.”
“Great. You know I love both brunch and setups, so having them at the same time will be the best.” I immediately felt guilty about letting my sarcasm out when Jane’s face fell. She just wanted everyone to be happy. “I’m sorry. I’ll behave, I promise.”
Jane spent the rest of the evening talking about Charlie, and picking out what we would both wear in the morning. I was all for wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but due to the puffed-up nature of the venue, she insisted on a dress. I didn’t have much of a selection. Jane rooted around in my closet, eventually settling on an olive green dress. “Remember to smile, Betty – it’s your best feature.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jane, this isn’t a date, at least not for me. I’m only going so I can snoop around in Charlie’s head. I have no hopes regarding his friend. Zero.” I gave my sister a stern look.
“I get it, I get it. He could be nice, though, you know.”
I shook my head. “Have you told Milly?”
“No.”
“Go call her right now.” I said, laughing. “She won’t call you her favourite niece anymore if you hold back.” Milly was married to my mother’s much younger brother, and was more like an older sister to us than an aunt. We told each other everything – with one notable exception on my part. I only wished we lived in the same city, so we could see each other more often. Jane went into her room and closed the door. I didn’t need to hear all about Charlie for a second time, anyway.
*
I woke with a smile the next morning, and ran to my window to feel the sun on my face. There wasn’t much to see from my perch – the building next door, a few trees, the street below – but morning invigorated me like nothing else. Throwing on some yoga pants and an old t-shirt, I headed out into the bright morning, walking briskly toward a park a few blocks away.
After so many cloudy days, I couldn’t get enough of the sun. Pausing in front of a coffee shop, I lifted my chin and closed my eyes, basking. Unfortunately, a man chose that moment to exit the shop and ran into me, slopping his drink all over both of us. ...Yaauurgh! Not another one! Just what I need to start my crappy... I jumped back. The man was very tall – I didn’t even reach his chin – and fixed me with a baleful glare. “Watch where you’re going,” he huffed.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Me? I was stationary. You should watch where you’re going!”
He looked me over, his disgust clear as he took in my coffee stained t-shirt and messy ponytail. “Do you want me to pay your dry cleaning bill? On second thought, buying you new...clothing,” he ran his eyes over me again, “would be cheaper, and then you would have something fit to wear in public. I’m sure you’ll have more luck if you’re not dressed like a street person.”
More luck? With what? Or did he mean in general? It didn’t matter. His rudeness was astonishing – even my cranky landlord, who was incapable of saying anything nice, had nothing on this guy. “There is more to being fit for public ,” I spat out, “than wearing Armani, Mr I-want-to-make-the-best-dressed-list. Insulting random strangers on the street is generally considered bad form. I can give you a list, if you like, of polite phrases for you to use.”
“That’s not going to work on me,” he ground out. And threw some bills on the sidewalk at my feet.
My blood thundered in my ears, and my hands trembled with the desperate urge to punch him. Violence is not the answer. No matter how poorly someone treats you, it’s no excuse to hit them . How many times had I told my kids that? Hundreds? More? I took a deep breath and willed my fingers to unclench. Forcing my lips into a smile, though the rest of my face no doubt promised murder, I said, “Enjoy the rest of your day,” before turning and striding forcefully away.
What a jerk! To look at me so condescendingly, as if I were a bug underfoot! Not everyone felt the need to be ready for a photo-shoot at 7am on a Sunday! Then throwing money on the ground, no doubt for the pleasure of watching me scrabble around on my knees picking it up. He was entitled, rude, probably had a fat trustfund and had never had to work a day in his life. I bet he even enjoyed brunch.
Jane was still asleep when I got back, and I jumped into the shower, eager to wash off the coffee that had soaked through my shirt. Standing under the too hot water, feeling it scald my skin, allowed my temper to cool down, and by the time I turned off the now lukewarm water, I was finally able to see the humour in the situation.
“Ready for the dreaded brunch set up?” Charlotte lived down the hall from Jane and I – she had found us the apartment, actually, when we moved into the city – and was always dropping by.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ve already had a horrible morning.” I relayed my run-in with Photo-shoot, as I decided to call him. “And he actually threw money at me, like Boss Baby!” Charlotte laughed heartily with me.
“Did he wear the suit, too?” she giggled.
“Yes! Who dresses like that when the sun’s barely up on a Sunday?”
“Well, he probably had a meeting. People do, you know.”
“Yeah...it was obviously really expensive, too. His dry cleaning bill will be enormous. But stop stealing my fun with your sense and reasonableness! I’d much rather relegate the entire encounter to the realm of the ridiculous.”
Charlotte helped me do my hair – it was long, dark brown, curly (or frizzy, depending who you asked), and normally impossible to handle, but Charlotte’s mother worked at a hair salon, and she had picked up a few tricks. When she was done, it crawled down my back in loose curls. It looked really nice, and I didn’t hesitate to compliment her.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “It’s just mousse, Betty, I’ve shown you how to do it a million times.”
I looked down guiltily. She had shown me what to do more than once, but it was always easier to put it up.
Our table at Rosie’s was small, as Jane had promised, and surrounded by greenery. Every table was small and surrounded by greenery, making it the perfect place for lovers to make eyes at each other while they ate overpriced eggs.
Charlie’s face broke out into a huge smile as the host brought him to our table. His eyes met up with Jane’s, and they stared at each other, both smiling happily, both forgetting that I existed. I cleared my throat.
“Oh! Charlie, this is my sister Betty. Betty, Charlie.” She beamed at him.
Charlie managed to tear his eyes away from Jane long enough to shake my hand. ...hope she approves, I really like Jane, she’s so beautiful, and so smart...
I smiled. “Nice to meet you Charlie.”
“And you, Betty. Jane has told me so much about you that I feel like I know you already.” He smiled easily. “Tell me what it’s like to be a child psychologist. Isn’t it hard to get kids to talk to you?”
“Sometimes.” If they shied away from contact, it made my job harder, but with a little effort, I could usually get them to open up. “I find that kids are desperate to tell all their secrets - to the right person, anyway. I try to be that person.”
Charlie laughed. I had to agree with Jane – he was good-looking, with short, reddish hair, and an ever-present smile. “You make it sound easy, but I’m sure it’s not.”
Under the table, I carefully stretched out my leg until it just barely brushed his, hoping that he wouldn’t notice, or if he did, would think it was Jane.
...working with kids. I wonder if I would have the patience for that? I have to find something to do...Jane’s smile is fantastic. And her eyes! I could stare at them forever. I wonder what’s holding up Will? He’ll love Jane – who could not? She’s so smart – I don’t think I have the brains she does to make it through dentistry sc… “Here he is!” Charlie jumped to his feet.
Following his line of sight, I saw a tall man with black wavy hair, dressed in slacks and a polo coming toward us. It was Photo-shoot. Because of course it was. I half groaned, half laughed at the irony.
Charlie introduced us, and when his eyes met mine, I saw them widen in surprise. “Ah, Mr Photo-shoot himself! How nice to see you again,” I smiled. Mindful of Jane, I kept my snarky comments to myself.
Will aka Photo-shoot gaped at me for a moment, and I saw a flicker of...something, before his eyes shuttered over and he resumed his haughty, bored, demeanor. He muttered non-committally, and sat down beside his friend.
Shaking my head internally at his arrogance, I reached my leg out again for Charlie’s. I was here for a reason, and it had nothing to do with Photo-shoot.
...rather be anywhere else than here. Why does Charlie insist on dragging me along to meet all his girlfriends? If this Jane is anywhere near as empty-headed as the last one...or as rude as Ms Spaz, here...how can Jane be so beautiful and...what’s her name? Beatrice? Betty? be so unappealing? Maybe one of them is adopted or...
I jumped when Jane kicked me. Gently. ... Charlie asked you a question!... I realised I had been listening to Will’s thoughts to the exclusion of the table conversation. At least I hadn’t been staring at Will, too – instead focusing on my silverware, lying neatly on its square napkin. I still blushed, though – everyone was staring at me. “I’m sorry, Charlie. What did you say?”
Charlie laughed. “I didn’t realise my love of sushi was so offensive, to cause such a frown. Or was it the silverware that displeased you?”
I laughed along with him, quipping, “Well, the fork was giving me dirty looks,” and the matter was dropped. I shared a look with Jane. That was too close.
The conversation lagged a bit after the food arrived, and I reached out with my foot again, very carefully. I had no desire to weather another barrage of Will’s disparaging thoughts. It was very difficult, listening intently to Charlie’s thoughts, trying to understand the strong undercurrent of words and emotion, while still remaining alert enough to participate in the conversation my three table mates were carrying. Well, two of them – Photo-shoot was more interested in moving his food around on his plate and looking out the window than speaking. I didn’t say much, either, mostly only speaking when asked a direct question. I’m sure I was very dull, though Jane did her best to cover for my lapses.
*
“So?” Jane asked, her voice heavy with anticipation. The boys had only just driven away (they both had sleek, overtly expensive vehicles), and we were walking the few blocks to our apartment. Charlie had offered to drive us, of course, but I was desperate to stretch my legs after missing my walk earlier, and Jane was equally desperate to find out what I thought about Charlie.
“He practically worships you, Jane. Listening to him go on and on about how beautiful you are, how smart you are, how you are goodness itself...it was very nauseating. He wants to sleep with you – I’ve never heard a guy who didn’t – but he’ll be patient, because it’s you he wants. He may not be pink yet, but he’s definitely heading in that direction.”
“He...he’s falling in love with me?” Jane stopped for a moment, eyes staring blankly through the window of a children’s clothing store. When I heard someone’s thoughts, I didn’t only hear their inner voice, but also the thoughts tumbling behind the scenes, their tone of voice, a little of their emotions, and I could even see memories, depending on what type of contact I had. Emotions tended to have a colour associated with them. Pink meant love.
“Not bad for only a few days, if you ask me. I do have some concerns, though.” Jane turned to me, her brilliant smile fading a little. “I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle. Photo-shoot thinks you’re just another pretty face in a long, long line of girlfriends. Charlie might be the type to fall in and out of love easily. Also, does he have a job? It sounded like he has no idea what to do with his life.”
“How long a line, exactly?” Her fingers twisted around each other nervously.
“I don’t know.” I wished I was normal, so I could hug her, comfort her, without intruding.
She shook her head. “Well, I don’t give my heart away easily. I’ll just be cautious, in case it turns out to be a fling for him. Um, he doesn’t work right now, I think. He inherited a lot of money when his parents died a couple of years ago. He’s trying to find something he’s passionate about, since he doesn’t need to work just for the paycheck.”
That would explain the pricey car, and his thoughts anytime a vocation was mentioned, wondering if it would suit him. “Come on, Jane. I need to study, and I’m sure you do too, if you want to stay at the top of your orthodontics class.”