Metro Station

[Deleted]

"The Metro". "The Subway". "The Tube." No matter what you prefer to call it, it will take you almost anywhere you want to go. It also opens up opportunities to meet people you never thought (or sometimes hoped) you would.

[The Exodus]

Madeleine de Chandon

If it were spring, Madeleine would be the first to throw on a white t-shirt and run around without an umbrella. And if it weren’t raining right now, she’d be glad to jump on crunchy, November leaves, kicking them as though they deserved a beating. But it was chilly, rainy, and mid-November. And suddenly, not having an umbrella didn’t sound so fun. If you asked her what she probably looked like right now, Madeleine would have told you “a wet rat”. Her mascara was smeared, her hair frizzy from humidity, and her suede trench coat ruined and practically super-glued to her body. From under her coat, a black, lacy camisole peeked out and drew more eyes to her décolletage than she was comfortable with. Not that Madeleine was a prude. It just sucked because she used to get paid for this kind of sh*t. And now these sleazy hobos who were also avoiding the rainstorm were leering at her like she was a particularly tasty cake. Madeleine sneered at them and pulled out her phone, trying to find a little bit of signal. She couldn’t, but pretended to be absorbed by texting. It drew eyes away; a busy career woman could kick *ss thirty different ways with a high-heeled shoe. Madeleine could. Well, maybe not thirty different ways, but still. She was a dancer. She could do some damage with a well-placed kick.

She scrolled through her phone’s calendar, since there wasn’t much else to do. It looked full; surprisingly so. Friends’ birthdays, Ashton’s baby shower, and Nutcracker rehearsals filled up the little green squares. It was reassuring, in a way, to be needed like that again. Madeleine had had a bit of a meaning crisis for the last few months—since Myron’s disappearance—but lately found herself too busy to miss him. Even though he was back in the city, Madeleine had a ballet company to run, productions to choreograph, an elderly dad who needed her, a pregnant best friend who wanted someone to gush to, and by thrusting herself into work, Madeleine didn’t have time to mope. Save for those long, lonely nights when it was just her, a bottle of vodka, and lite-cigarettes sprawled out on the couch. And even then, “moping” consisted of listing a litany of regrets.

Chief on her list was never calling Valter back after meeting his daughter.

That was a strange one, Madeleine often realized in her drunken half-stupors. Valter was a boy toy. A booty call. A friend with benefits. He wasn’t the AWOL fiancé nor a very serious suitor. Rather, he was some guy she picked up in a bar over the summer, hooked up with for months, and left for dust when she found out he had a four year old daughter. She wasn’t exactly pining for a “what-could-have-been” fairytale. That was bullsh*t. She didn’t want to play wicked stepmother to his mini-me. She didn’t dream of fashioning themselves into the sort of dysfunctional family unit Ashton and Lucian had formed. She didn’t even try to imagine a world without Edie where she could substitute Valter for oft-absent Myron. She just wished—sometimes—that she hadn’t let a good thing go. The grass was always greener, supposedly, but Madeleine supposed having a man to bring you coffee and screw your brains out was better than being resentful towards the Y chromosome and drunk and alone on the weekends.

Another big regret? Hanging around the Rouge like paint on a wall. What was there for her, anyways? It was the place that had turned her into an underground star—a man’s fantasy, an anti-feminist model—the place that had introduced her to the man who alternated between soliloquies of love and calling her a cheap tramp and promises of a bright future and long silences. It was the place that threw her best friend out because she was getting a set of stretch marks along with her pregnancy boobs. It harbored too many memories of people and events she didn’t need to remind herself of constantly. That one, she fixed. She resigned as chief choreographer and took up the mantle of ballet mistress full time now. If Ortiz was angry that his BFFs’ former fiancée was under his roof, he didn’t show it. Her dancers were glad to have her back and that counted for something. The Rouge Girls wouldn’t miss her terribly. Madeleine had been a distraction while employed there, flirting too shamelessly with everyone from the boss-man to the bartender and every patron in between. Besides, there were people and places that needed her more these days. Aryeh, for one. Ashton, for another. Besides, the man the opera put in charge after her hiatus was lax with the dancers. Better suited for training the little ones than orchestrating full-scale productions.

She wracked her brain for more. There were others. There had to be. But they didn’t matter much. She had things to live for. Things like friends and a pseudo-family. Things like a career. That was something. And Madeleine was the sort of woman to take what she could get, whatever that might be.

She smoothed down her hair with a free hand. She wanted to feel human again. More human, anyways. Not this wet, regretful thing she was right now. Madeleine told herself that her full calendar was good enough.to make her happy. She smiled at it and pushed it into her pocket.

The smile was short lived. A staticy voice came over the intercom. “Madames et Monsieurs,” it started. “The red line is currently facing some delays due to flooding on the tracks. We are trying to remedy this problem. Please, be patient and have a wonderful day!”

Swears went up into the air immediately. Madeleine, too, muttered “Merde” under her breath and buttoned her wet, sticky jacket a little tighter. How were you supposed to have a wonderful day when the tracks were flooded? Some people had places to be. Things to do.

Like go home to an empty apartment.

Oh, hell, maybe she wasn’t out of regrets, after all.

[Deleted]

Valter Gottfrid

Valter's life had been sincere and utter madness as of late. Edie took up pretty much all of his time and it was starting to wear down on him. They played, they napped, they ate, played some more, napped again, watched cartoons, had bath time, went to bed. It was the same, day after day, even with school involved! Valter had managed to get Edie into one of the best schools in all of Paris and he was glad, not just because she would learn a lot but also because it gave him some sort of a break. Even then though, he would sleep or get some sort of work done. He'd been very involved in investing as of late, to have some sort of an adult activity he speculated. Nonetheless, today he had gotten a babysitter and today he was going to go out on a long walk through whatever park he happened to stumble on.

Oh the sweet smell of solitu...rain. It had started to pour and Valter's customary black long sleeve and jeans were soaking through faster than he could find cover. Where to go? Where did he go last time it had started raining while he was out? The metro! He began to walk that direction and then paused. The last time he had gone into the metro to avoid the rain he had run across that strange fiddle playing kid. What had his name been?....Who knows, it didn't matter now, it was unlikely that he would be there again. Valter ran down the steps into the subway looking a bit like a drowned Great Dane. He shook his head, shaking the water from his hair before slicking it back and looking up with his bright blue eyes to assess his surroundings.

Angry frustrated people, swearing, soaked person there, another soaked person there, Madeleine, soaked person, angry person...wait...back that up. Madeleine? Valter hadn't heard from Mad since he had introduced her and his daughter. He had kind of assumed that had been a deal breaker even on a friends with benefits basis. Here she was, soaked to the bone, her coat clinging to her body. What better time than now to say hello and get some clarification on whether she hated him or not?

Valter stepped forward, stopping at her side and gazing down at her. "Fancy seeing you here."

[The Exodus]

Madeleine de Chandon

No, really. That was it. No more regrets. She was not going to cry or freak out because her apartment was empty. She wasn’t the only one in the city who went home alone. She couldn’t have been. Besides, she was one of the small handful of people who managed to make ends meet. She lived in a safe neighborhood; she paid for everything herself. Besides, her apartment was empty, but it wasn’t like she spent all her time there. And if it got too lonely, she could leave. She could invite someone over. She could distract herself until she convinced herself everything was all right. Madeleine didn’t like the woe-is-me, damsel-in-distress attitude with which she viewed her life lately. So she was alone. Okay. So she was stranded in a downpour, standing in the subway station. Awesome. All any of that meant was that this was a party of one. And Madeleine liked parties. She shut her eyes and began fantasizing about what a party of one meant. Expensive booze she didn’t have to share. Food she didn’t have to share. Music she didn’t have to compromise about. There was a pattern here; a favorable one at that. Granted, all of these luxuries were at home. And other solo activities just weren’t as fulfilling as their partnered counterpoints. Like dancing.

Or a couple other things…

Madeleine banished the thoughts. Or tried to. A smirk; part grimace, actually; came to her lips. Her friends were good company: Aryeh and Ashton. But neither was particularly equipped to fill all her social needs. Madeleine settled against the sticky, humid wall. Her jacket squelched against the tile. Under the thick, wet sound, she could hear advancing footsteps. She hoped the person would keep on walking. Walk past her, change trajectory, leave the subway altogether. But the footsteps kept on coming. Madeleine’s shoulders tightened. She looked at the empty train tracks pointedly, ignoring the stranger, hoping he or she would keep on moving. But the footsteps stopped right beside her.

"Fancy seeing you here."

“Oh, it’s you!” Madeleine relaxed and looked at Valter. She was actually surprised she recognized his voice so quickly. She laughed at her own stupid paranoia and turned to face him, leaning against the wall comfortably. Like her, Valter was rain-drenched. Unlike her, though, he looked good. Probably because he didn’t have long hair to muss with in the humidity. He looked a bit more tired than she remembered, but less stricken by it. It was probably because of his little tyke. What was her name? Edith? Madeleine grinned at him and playfully looked around as though something was missing. “Where’s your muppet today?”

[Deleted]

Valter Gottfrid

“Oh, it’s you!”

The blue-eyed swede was a bit startled by Madeleine's reaction. He hadn't really expected her to be so chipper to see him, especially after she seemingly dropped off the face of the earth due to his having a child. Really, it was probably more Valter who had dropped off the face of the earth but, it was much easier to blame Mad in this situation. She was chipper, she was glad to see him, he was confused. Who had she expected to have standing next to her? Did she have a boyfriend now? Was she in some sort of trouble and hoping some attacker wasn't sneaking up on her? It was truly incredible how many questions flipped through Valter's mind in the matter of a couple of seconds.

However, his confusion didn't stop there. Madeleine was looking around him as though some vital part of his body was missing. He did a mental check. Arms? Here. Legs? Here. Fingers? Present. Toes? She wouldn't be able to see them to know if they were missing. Clothes? I am wearing clothes right...? It wasn't long before his confusion was answered.

“Where’s your muppet today?”

Oh. Valter hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that his daughter most definitely was an extension of him, even more attached than any of his limbs, in fact. "She's with a sitter. I had to get off on my own for a while."

Valter had been too focused on Mad's reactions to notice her body language. She was leaning against the wall, facing him, relaxed. All highly favorable signs. He quickly took notice of the way her coat clung to every curve, her low cut top, the fact that she was soaked to the bone and it would be so much easier to just take off all those wet clothes and get back to where they had left off.

He mentally shook the thoughts from his head. Try having a conversation first, man! The least he could do was get to know where she stood now, why they'd fallen out of touch. Whether she had in fact been waiting on someone else here. They'd had more than one round of stringless fun in the past and now he needed to focus. He faced her more directly, leaning with his shoulder against the wall and one foot crossing the other. Quite a suave pose really. He was sure that his shirt would be clinging to his body just as her jacket was to hers, he was sure that she would notice, and he was sure that he wanted to see her reaction.

He looked into her eyes with genuine affection and a spark of lust, "How have you been, Mad? I've missed you."

[The Exodus]

Madeleine de Chandon

Madeleine hoped Valter’s “muppet” was off at some boarding school in a distant city, or maybe tucked away in a convent in the south of France. Valter could afford a decent education for his girl; he could afford to send her away. Madeleine had been raised by a single parent and often wished Blanche could afford to ship her somewhere a million miles away. Blanche seemed to want the same thing. If Valter could do so well by his daughter, awesome.

"She's with a sitter. I had to get off on my own for a while."

Madeleine nodded with a noncommittal “Oh”. Truthfully, she felt a stir of something in her chest like agitation. She understood his restlessness— not well, albeit. Who wanted to spend every waking moment with a kid? But it was eerily reminiscent of Blanche’s attitude towards Madeleine when she was a child. The woman always needed time alone, or, rather, alone with some man or another who she swore would be the solution to all their problems. Her problems; maybe. Not Madeleine’s; not theirs as a family. All that seemed to come out of Blanche’s selfishness was that Madeleine learned to take care of herself effectively by age nine and got the good sense to lie to the landlady and whoever else wanted to know where maman was and whether Madeleine was being cared for properly.

Stop it. Valter isn’t your mother of all things. Don’t make this Oedipal. Don’t look for what isn’t there.

Instead, she looked at Valter. She could see the harsh creases of his muscles under the wet shirt he wore. His abs, his pecs, his arms. They would be firm, hard against her. Comforting. Nice to know not everyone abandoned her. Nice to know she was worth coming back for. Nice to grab onto in a peak moment. Who knew there were attractive fathers out there, anyways? Men with kids who were total DILFs. No one told Madeleine; no one pointed her to an example. But there was Valter right now and when she looked at him, buried their baggage and her own, a primal ache gripped Madeleine. She wanted to ride it out, wait for it to subside, talk like normal human beings. No crying, no jumping his bones. No strings attached, remember?

But then his eyes ignited, met hers and Madeleine couldn’t help herself. She’d forgotten how much she needed to feel wanted.

"How have you been, Mad? I've missed you."

“Have you?” she murmured. She hoped she didn’t sound too happy, too desperate. Madeleine cocked an eyebrow, placed a hand on one jutted hip. A wicked sort of grimace flicked to her lips. “Then I won’t spoil the moment, boring you with how I’ve been.”

[Deleted]

OOC: Craptastic post, my apologies. BIC:

Valter Gottfrid

“Have you?” she murmured. She hoped she didn’t sound too happy, too desperate. Madeleine cocked an eyebrow, placed a hand on one jutted hip. A wicked sort of grimace flicked to her lips. “Then I won’t spoil the moment, boring you with how I’ve been.”

Valter stepped considerably closer to Madeleine, definitely crossing the personal space line. He placed a hand over hers on her jutted hip, the other caressing down her cheek and resting, cupped loosely against her neck.

"I really have."

He wanted her, there was no doubt about that. The hand over her hip craved to feel the flesh hidden beneath her wet clothes as the hand on her neck reveled in the feeling of human life beneath his fingertips. His most primal of instincts would have told him to just stop where they were, strip down and procreate for the sake of procreation. But there was this flutter in his chest, this sort of skipping of a heart beat that had missed more than just carnal knowledge of her. He hadn't really planned on anything with Mad ever being serious. They met in a bar, they had a one night stand that was supposed to be it. And then it was just friends with benefits and now, here he stood with these things called feelings. These wrenches in their original plan. He would only hope that Madeleine had a handful of them too, otherwise Valter was going to cause more trouble than he had ever intended.

He wanted to say something. He wanted to do something other than gaze into her eyes but it was all that he could manage. Saying anything else felt like saying too much, like it would ruin some vital turn of events that was going to take place in the very near future. He tried to gauge where she was. Was she going through the same ramble of thoughts that he was? Was she too busy to care? He never had asked if she was seeing someone. For all he knew his spot might have already been filled. He had to take a chance though, it was that or give up entirely.

[The Exodus]

OOC: Not craptastic! BIC:

Madeleine de Chandon

When Valter touched her hand, a cold sort of shudder passed through the air. Madeleine shivered. She hoped it was just a stray breeze wafting through the subway tunnel. She knew better. That shudder was one-hundred percent man-made. Valter’s other hand caressed her cheek and it was amazing Madeleine’s knees didn’t give out at the lusty tenderness. She’d been a good girl, between rounds with Valter anyways. And whenever that happened, being wanted again came as a system shock.

"I really have."

Madeleine reached up and pushed a lock of Valter’s damp, blonde hair aside. She trailed her hand down the side of his face.

“I’m—I’m not very good with these things,” she muttered. “Dealing with families, I mean.”

Understatement of the year. Or close to it. Something. Madeleine wasn’t good at dealing with her own family, much less another person’s. Least of all, a lover’s family. She thought of Myron’s psycho niece and even crazier brother. She thought of Edie. She thought of a laundry list of suitors back in the day who wanted to introduce her to their mothers. None of it ever worked. She wasn’t a warm-and-fuzzy family woman. Wouldn’t Valter be better off with someone to help him with Edie? Didn’t he want that?

And if he did want that, what was Madeleine supposed to do? Transform? Or be second best again? She’d rather die that deal with that kind of crap.

[Deleted]

Valter Gottfrid

Valter's eyes closed as her hand ran down his face. He pressed his forehead to hers and sighed a contented sigh. He was comfortable. Madeleine made comfortable. He was in intimate space with her again and knew that she couldn't be dating anyone else, she wouldn't be this close to him if she was. He wasn't quite that irresistible.

“I’m—I’m not very good with these things,” she muttered. “Dealing with families, I mean.”

The Swede breathed deep, thinking about that. Family. Were he and Edie a family? He didn't really think so. They were just two people, family to each other but not a family. If they weren't a family then there wasn't anything for Mad to deal with. There wasn't anything stopping her.

"I wouldn't say that Edie and I are a family. And even still, I haven't spoken to any of my family, besides Edie, in years and I didn't even know Edie existed up until recently. I'm not good with family either."

He was suddenly aware of how close his and Madeleine's lips were, the fact that they were breathing the same air. He nuzzled her nose with his, leaning closer to gently press his lips to hers. He'd forgotten how good it was to kiss anyone, but especially Mad. He pulled away slowly, forehead still pressed to hers and speaking in a barely audible whisper, "We're not so different you know."

[The Exodus]

Madeleine de Chandon

"I wouldn't say that Edie and I area family,” Valter said. Madeleine wetted her lips, trying to work out what that even meant. Family but not family. She wondered if it really was like her and Blanche. Blood being thicker than water and all that, but blood being messy, hard to get out of the carpets or something. She imagined Edie as a blood stain for a minute on Valter’s otherwise white linen existence of shagging and drinking and business investments. “And even still, I haven't spoken to any of my family, besides Edie, in years and I didn't even know Edie existed up until recently. I'm not good with family either."

She was glad for this. At least Madeleine wasn’t the only one who thought families were more trouble than they were worth. Family did weird things. The blood analogy was chillingly accurate when you thought about the last messy family Madeleine had dealt with: the gang-banging Bolitars. Valter was smart to avoid families as a whole since they did stupid things like get involved in seedy crime rings. Or even the normalish ones. Like Ashton’s. Jesus. They looked normal (ish). She had a sister and a dad and a fiancé and a brother-in-law and a nephew and a baby on the way. Normalish until the dad had a heart attack and took to being a general *sshole. Who wanted a dad who traverses the continent only to have a heart attack and complain? It would probably be only a matter of time before Edie settled to one side of the spectrum or another. God-awful gunslinger or vaguely unpleasant houseguest.

And somewhere between the thought of bloodstained carpets and the thought of awful family lives, Madeleine and Valter had drawn towards each other like magnets. Their lips were brushing and Madeleine couldn’t piece together how they’d gotten like that. She blinked, surprised, and Valter nuzzled her nose. Her eyes didn’t close when he kissed her. She was too surprised to think to shut them.

"We're not so different you know,” he murmured.

“Thank God,” Madeleine murmured. She hadn’t even noticed the kiss, really, but her lips were still tingling. She wanted to kiss him again. Kissing was nice; she wanted to enjoy a kiss for the first time in months. “I was beginning to think I was the only sane person left in Paris.”

She kissed him this time. This time, she closed her eyes and relaxed. She held Valter’s shoulder and stroked her hand into his blonde hair. The kiss wasn’t chaste; but it wasn’t as hungry as it could have been. Madeleine didn’t want to seem needy, even if she was. She pressed against him, smiling against his lips. And then she deepened the kiss anyways because he was warm and good to her and he smelled like rain. Some things were too good to pass up.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Penny MaCarthy

Penny could feel the second hand tick-tocking on her watch, each little beat reminding her that time she had work to do, papers that needed stapling and an Ambassador who needed a refill of sugar for his coffee. And the train, this blasted, bloody train had the audacity to be late. Penny let out a long stream of air. Thirteen tick-tocks elapsed during it, the fact that she was late coming back to the forefront of her mind like a boomerang.

She crossed her ankles, tapping madly away at the ground with her foot, glancing around the moderately busy subway station. People trickled in and out like tributary streams , running about their busy lives, rote and mundane, like hamsters in wheels. In and out, round and round.

And just when the appeal of people watching gave way to lackluster tedium, Penny’s eyes fell on a woman just three seats down from her. She examined her astutely for a moment: the hard, bold elegance of her features, the loose ebony curls adorning her head, the thin eyebrows and faint lines of age around her mouth all fell together to create a familiar image. Penny searched her mind for the connection.

Her phone. Freddy had sent her a text, attached to it a picture that had been forwarded and re-forwarded until it finally hit the eyes of Penny, having gone through all her other siblings first. ‘Billy’s new flame’ it read, littered with comments from her other siblings, speckled with approval and praise. But Penny felt little more than irritation. Why had she been the last to know? What had Rupert, the least loved, known before her? Why didn’t Bill, who lived in Paris, just tell her face to face? She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes in thought as she scrutinized the woman before her. A professor, she had been told by Freddy, which proved she was smarter than Victorine, university educated, holder of at least two degrees. She could appreciate that.

“Toni, isn’t it?” She said to her. Making the first move towards introduction had always been uncomfortable. “Penelope MaCarthy,” she offered her hand. “I believe we have something, or rather, someone in common…?”

[The Exodus]

Toni Vandeleur

Public transportation, the bane of any city-dweller’s existence. Toni sat alone in the subway, waiting for a delayed train to take her home. It was her day off, so the delay didn’t perturb her. At least, it didn’t bother her half as much as lunch had.

Tom Flannery, ex-flame and friend was in town. He’d wanted to meet up and Toni agreed, only because he sounded anxious and the Tom she’d known since her twenties was anything but the anxious sort. Lunch had gone rather like this:

Enter Toni. The Café is crowded. She is dismayed. Tom is nowhere to be seen.
Toni
Turns to go

Tom
places hands over Toni’s eyes
Guess who?

Toni
Thought you stood me up.

Tom
Would I do that to you?

Toni
Yes.

Tom
Ah, Antonia Vandeleur, harbinger of truth. removes hands from Toni’s eyes God, you are a sight for sore eyes.

Toni
I’ve got a boyfriend now, you know.

Tom
You mentioned. Bob?

Toni
Bill.

Tom
Does he care you’re meeting up with me?

Toni
No.

Tom
Did you tell him?

Toni
He’s not the jealous type.

Tom
Good. Not like the last one. Tried to run me out of town.

Tom and Toni sit at a corner booth. A waiter brings them menus and exits stage right

Toni
You said you had something important to tell me.

Tom
Right. That I did.

Toni
Well…?

Tom
Well… I have a son.

End Scene

Actually, the conversation had gone on much longer than that. She and Tom had dated in their twenties and remained friends long after. She liked to think she knew him better than most. She’d been there the day his “daughter” was born. Toni used the word “daughter” rather loosely when it came to Amy and Tom; she was Grace and Daphne’s daughter, after all. At first, she thought Tom had again been a sperm donor. Not for Daphne and Grace, though. Grace would have called her to tell her by now, if that was the case. When Toni began to congratulate him, Tom shook his head.

Tom
He’s grown up. Doesn’t need his da anymore.

Toni
What?

Tom
I told you about Cathy. He’s ours. Cathy’s and mine. She never…

Toni had spent the rest of the lunch break comforting Tom, trying to assure him that not knowing about his son didn’t make him a bad man. That trying to find him made him a good man. All sorts of things. It probably hadn’t worked because he announced when they were parting ways that he was off in search of a pint “in which to drown his headache”. He kissed her cheek coolly, but stayed in their hug a fraction longer than normal. Toni wanted to cup his chin in her hands and say something comforting. Instead, she settled for watching him shamble off in the other direction before descending into the metro.

Which brought her here, running late for nothing in particular and wishing she, too, had a pint to drown her headache in. When getting together with an old friend, you expected to have a good time. When a friend told you about his kid, you expected joy. Instead, Tom was desolate and uncertain of where even start looking for his boy. And it had rubbed off on Toni. Despite having nowhere to go, she was fidgety and perhaps even a bit upset.

Why the train late, today of all days? All she wanted was to go home and phone Bill. Maybe have a nice night in—alone or with him, either sounded nice right about now—and forget this whole Tom thing.

She pressed her head against the grimy wall. She’d take a hot shower when she got home. Before calling Bill, in case he did come over. She felt like she reeked of cigarette smoke, sweat, and that stale smell of being outside for far too long. Toni’s eyes shut. She’d shower, then invite Bill over for drinks. But until all that happened, all Toni wanted was a bit of quiet and for the train to hurry up.

“Toni, isn’t it?”

Toni lolled her head towards the voice. It had said her name, as though familiar with her. She looked. The woman who addressed her was young—early twenties?—and Toni wondered if she was a graduate student at the college. Maybe she was somehow connected to this Tom debacle. She wasn’t the mysterious, untouchable Cathy though. Too young.

“Penelope MaCarthy,” The girl said, sticking her hand out. “I believe we have something, or rather, someone in common…?”

MaCarthy. As in Bill. Toni pulled herself up straighter. She took the handshake, perhaps a little warily, but smiled. Penelope…

There was Ben, the zoologist brother with a crazy streak. There was Freddie, the chocolatier in Switzerland. There was “Gimpy”, whose real name was Rupert. And Virginia, who Bill loved more than perhaps anyone in the universe.

Penelope…

Ben was engaged to a man named Matvey, who Bill liked more than he liked his brother most days. Freddie… no one knew anything about. The other two were teenagers and unmarried.

Penelope MaCarthy…

Clearly, she knew Bill, if they shared a last name and she knew Toni. But Toni didn’t know her. She’d play this cool. As a misunderstanding.

“Nice to meet you. Penelope, did you say? Could you… um… refresh my memory? How we know one another?”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Penny MaCarthy

Toni took her hand and shook it, almost limply. Penny had to fight a frown that threatened to etch itself into her face. Her time in politics (though short), had taught her the importance of a firm handshake—it showed your professionalism and confidence. Apparently, Toni was lacking in one or both of those areas.

Bill has enough confidence for both of them, but has no professionalism… Maybe they cancel each other out? A pen through violently through her mind, taking mental notes along the way.

“Nice to meet you. Penelope, did you say? Could you… um… refresh my memory? How we know one another?”

Penny sighed. She wasn’t surprised Toni knew nothing about her. Bill enjoyed leaving little minutia out of his stories. It was how he was so well liked, of that Penny was certain. But she never imagined herself as a mere detail, insignificant enough to be omitted all together. He probably told her Virginia was his only sister or some other pish posh like that.

“William. My brother’s William. You two are dating, right? It’s surprising, because Bill doesn’t date. I would say ‘kudos’, but… it’s Bill. I’ll bet he never even told you about me. Sorry, but get used to it. He does that a lot, leaves out information. And if you’re any better at all than his last girlfriend, you don’t deserve that.” Penny scooted herself over one seat, the tick-tocking was no longer preceding a boom, but had all together vanished into a silent oblivion. “I’m just saying. It’s great to actually meet you, Toni.”

[The Exodus]

Toni Vandeleur

“William,” said Penelope. “My brother’s William.”

Toni kicked herself mentally for not paying enough attention to realize Bill had two sisters. She’d keep that secret to herself. Instead, she nodded, smiling, as though everything now made sense.

“You two are dating, right? It’s surprising, because Bill doesn’t date. I would say ‘kudos’, but… it’s Bill,” Penelope said. Cryptically, Toni thought. Bill was funny and sweet; Toni would say kudos to herself, too. In fact, sometimes, she did. “I’ll bet he never even told you about me. Sorry, but get used to it. He does that a lot, leaves out information. And if you’re any better at all than his last girlfriend, you don’t deserve that.”

Toni folded her arms and her left leg crossed over her right. Where was the train?

“I’m just saying. It’s great to actually meet you, Toni.”

“Is it?” Toni asked, tilting her head to the side. “See, because, everything you just said makes it sound like you’re just a little less than thrilled.”

She leaned forward towards Penelope. She hoped Bill wouldn’t hate her after all this, but Penelope really, really wasn’t helping her headache go away. She didn’t like this intimation that Bill was somehow damaged goods.

“Look. I like your brother. Quite a lot, actually. So, thanks for the warning, but I think Bill and I will manage."

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Penny MaCarthy

“Is it? See, because, everything you just said makes it sound like you’re just a little less than thrilled.”

Penny let the bitter tone roll around like hot iron rods in her mind. Bill had a knack for picking the rude ones, apparently. Penny gave it four years. Four years of on and off dating and broken engagements and hate sex and all the other things that had accompanied his last relationship. It was actually sad that William would never be happy. Even Ben, who Penny thought no man or woman could handle, was getting married. Even Rupert had a girlfriend. Virginia, from the sounds of it, had many. And then there was Bill, whose own masochistic desires to be with rude women were keeping him from being happy. Poor Bill. She actually pitied him for once.

Penelope Agatha, she chastised herself, you don’t know that. Give Toni a chance.

Penny looked at her potential sister-in-law with slightly fresher eyes to see her leaning in towards her.

“Look. I like your brother. Quite a lot, actually. So, thanks for the warning, but I think Bill and I will manage.”

Penny shook her head. “The only thing Bill’s good at managing is a stage. But when it comes to his personal life, he’s a mess. You should know what you’re getting into, because Bill’s not going to tell you, and you’d end up finding out the hard way. I’m really just trying to help, because I want this to work.” Her voice was level and walked some imaginary borderline between sweet and sour. There was the little sister that had watched her brother suffer, that wanted him to find happiness; but there was also the little sister that had been so hurt by her older brother that she couldn’t bear to see him happier than she was. But Toni didn’t need to know that. What Toni needed to know was all about William.