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Nov. 6th, 2011 09:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
witticasterThey never stood on ceremony at the tail end of a date. After an hour in a nice restaurant, the toe of Frances' shoe sliding up Alice's ankle beneath the long white tablecloth, Alice had to stare straight ahead the entire way home to keep herself from trapping Frances in an embrace right there in the cab. By the time they shut an apartment door behind them, any notion of coffee or a nightcap was the furthest thing from either of their minds. They were lucky to make it to the couch, let alone the bedroom; on one particularly unforgettable occasion, they hadn't gone further than the front door, Alice pinned between it and Frances' insistent fingers.
That night, they reached the sofa before Alice pulled Frances down onto it, coaxing her back onto the cushions.
There was a clicking noise that Alice ignored, too intent on nipping at the skin of Frances' neck, down toward her collarbone. More difficult to ignore was the question, "Who is that?"
Only one explanation ever accompanied queries like that one.
-----
An hour and a half after Sean called her--"Can you do me a huge favour? I, uh, I'd rather not talk about it over the phone"--Alice stood just inside the door to his dormitory, shaking the water off her rain bonnet and folding it up. Days like this one, Chicago earned its epithet: the wind was bad enough that she had to keep her skirt bunched in her hands when she walked if she didn't want to show off her slip to everyone on the street, and today, she had an umbrella to juggle along with her purse. The combination of wind, rain, and what was usually an hour's trip in fair weather left spots of mud on her stockings and locks of hair hanging limp around her face.
Sean came down to the lobby within five minutes of her arrival, the bright curve of a smile vanishing into a frown as he came closer. He swept her into a hug and kissed her cheek, his breath warm on her left ear. "Oh, you must be freezing, you poor thing."
She kissed his cheek in return before letting him go, glancing over him with a covertly critical eye. On the telephone, the volume of his voice had wavered, and more than once, it had sounded like his head was turned away from the phone--but if she'd been asked to "Oh, my teeth stopped chattering when I came in. And now you're all wet--" for the front of his shirt was now a darker shade of blue than the rest, thanks to the rain that hadn't dripped off of her coat.
"That's all right. D'y--do you want to come up?" His hand hovered near hers, just shy of touching.
Alice nodded, closing the distance between them. Sean's hand was warm against hers, perhaps a little moist, though the rain might have been to blame for that. "Sure. What's wrong?"
His gaze shifted from her face to the stairwell before them. "Let's--uh, why don't we go upstairs, and we can talk about it there?" When he glanced back at her, his smile was back, with a wobble that
----
The house was quiet when Alice returned from shopping; the only movement she saw as she walked grocery bags inside from the car was the rustle of the kitchen curtains against the window screen. No surprise there--Sean was undoubtedly still in bed, hopefully asleep by now--but the groceries took longer without him around to help carry them in.
She put the frozen food away first, and the container of ice cream still felt as though it was starting to melt. There was no winning in the middle of August, not this far out from the lake's edge, and not when the car had sat in the heat for an hour while she tried to guess which foods she could reasonably bring home with her. Buying orange juice would just be cruel when Sean couldn't drink it, and he seemed likely to try to pour himself a glass anyway and put himself into more misery. No strawberries, no hamburger, no tomatoes, no pimiento loaf, no grapefruit. And, worst of all, no beer.
What was left was a lot of potatoes and rice and an entire head of cabbage. All it took was one look at that cabbage, now waiting there in the vegtable crisper with the brussels sprouts and carrots she'd bought, and Alice could nearly smell Grandma and Grandpa Schiferl's house. Old cabbage, cooked until it could be heaped up into a limp and colourless pile in its serving bowl, and wursts with names she couldn't recall and tastes she'd prefer to forget.
She wouldn't make sauerkraut, she decided, and they'd take advantage of the heat outside and leave the windows open. As long as she didn't suddenly develop a craze for doilies on the arms of every chair, they'd probably be safe.
Once everything was put away, she headed down the hall to Sean's bedroom. The door was a little ajar, just as she left it. Maybe he had fallen asleep while she was out. Her first glance into the room seemed to confirm it--there he was, lying flat on his back, one arm dangling off the side of the bed--but then he turned his head toward her. He'd been staring up at the ceiling with eyes half-closed, and as he looked at her, his mouth turned up at the corners. Not enough to look like a smile, only enough to underscore the thinness of his lips and the tautness of the skin around his eyes.
"How're you feeling?" she asked him, taking a first tentative step into his room as she spoke.
Sean answered with a groan, tilting his head back again.
Alice padded over to the bed in her stocking feet and crawled onto her side so she could get a better look at him. He looked about the same as before she left--paler than usual, that miserable tilt to his mouth, but nothing too far amiss. "That well, huh."
"That well." He sighed.
That night, they reached the sofa before Alice pulled Frances down onto it, coaxing her back onto the cushions.
There was a clicking noise that Alice ignored, too intent on nipping at the skin of Frances' neck, down toward her collarbone. More difficult to ignore was the question, "Who is that?"
Only one explanation ever accompanied queries like that one.
-----
An hour and a half after Sean called her--"Can you do me a huge favour? I, uh, I'd rather not talk about it over the phone"--Alice stood just inside the door to his dormitory, shaking the water off her rain bonnet and folding it up. Days like this one, Chicago earned its epithet: the wind was bad enough that she had to keep her skirt bunched in her hands when she walked if she didn't want to show off her slip to everyone on the street, and today, she had an umbrella to juggle along with her purse. The combination of wind, rain, and what was usually an hour's trip in fair weather left spots of mud on her stockings and locks of hair hanging limp around her face.
Sean came down to the lobby within five minutes of her arrival, the bright curve of a smile vanishing into a frown as he came closer. He swept her into a hug and kissed her cheek, his breath warm on her left ear. "Oh, you must be freezing, you poor thing."
She kissed his cheek in return before letting him go, glancing over him with a covertly critical eye. On the telephone, the volume of his voice had wavered, and more than once, it had sounded like his head was turned away from the phone--but if she'd been asked to "Oh, my teeth stopped chattering when I came in. And now you're all wet--" for the front of his shirt was now a darker shade of blue than the rest, thanks to the rain that hadn't dripped off of her coat.
"That's all right. D'y--do you want to come up?" His hand hovered near hers, just shy of touching.
Alice nodded, closing the distance between them. Sean's hand was warm against hers, perhaps a little moist, though the rain might have been to blame for that. "Sure. What's wrong?"
His gaze shifted from her face to the stairwell before them. "Let's--uh, why don't we go upstairs, and we can talk about it there?" When he glanced back at her, his smile was back, with a wobble that
----
The house was quiet when Alice returned from shopping; the only movement she saw as she walked grocery bags inside from the car was the rustle of the kitchen curtains against the window screen. No surprise there--Sean was undoubtedly still in bed, hopefully asleep by now--but the groceries took longer without him around to help carry them in.
She put the frozen food away first, and the container of ice cream still felt as though it was starting to melt. There was no winning in the middle of August, not this far out from the lake's edge, and not when the car had sat in the heat for an hour while she tried to guess which foods she could reasonably bring home with her. Buying orange juice would just be cruel when Sean couldn't drink it, and he seemed likely to try to pour himself a glass anyway and put himself into more misery. No strawberries, no hamburger, no tomatoes, no pimiento loaf, no grapefruit. And, worst of all, no beer.
What was left was a lot of potatoes and rice and an entire head of cabbage. All it took was one look at that cabbage, now waiting there in the vegtable crisper with the brussels sprouts and carrots she'd bought, and Alice could nearly smell Grandma and Grandpa Schiferl's house. Old cabbage, cooked until it could be heaped up into a limp and colourless pile in its serving bowl, and wursts with names she couldn't recall and tastes she'd prefer to forget.
She wouldn't make sauerkraut, she decided, and they'd take advantage of the heat outside and leave the windows open. As long as she didn't suddenly develop a craze for doilies on the arms of every chair, they'd probably be safe.
Once everything was put away, she headed down the hall to Sean's bedroom. The door was a little ajar, just as she left it. Maybe he had fallen asleep while she was out. Her first glance into the room seemed to confirm it--there he was, lying flat on his back, one arm dangling off the side of the bed--but then he turned his head toward her. He'd been staring up at the ceiling with eyes half-closed, and as he looked at her, his mouth turned up at the corners. Not enough to look like a smile, only enough to underscore the thinness of his lips and the tautness of the skin around his eyes.
"How're you feeling?" she asked him, taking a first tentative step into his room as she spoke.
Sean answered with a groan, tilting his head back again.
Alice padded over to the bed in her stocking feet and crawled onto her side so she could get a better look at him. He looked about the same as before she left--paler than usual, that miserable tilt to his mouth, but nothing too far amiss. "That well, huh."
"That well." He sighed.