Just One Look

Eddie's Attic stage

The stage at Eddie’s Attic, Decatur, GA, 6 October 2016

Rebecca Asher, sixteen, takes a seat at the bar in Eddie’s Attic, and picks up a menu. It’s her first time here, attending an “all ages” show featuring local Atlanta performers. She’s been anxious to visit, since it regularly hosts artists like Michelle Malone and The Indigo Girls, who Rebecca follows on the radio. She doubts either will be in the lineup tonight, since they’re national acts — the Indigo Girls had been on David Letterman — but some of her older friends told her that sometimes big name performers show up to watch the shows, and will go up for a song or two, if asked. Following her friend’s advice, she arrived early, just as the house opened, and has been rewarded with a great seat at the end of the bar, with an unobstructed view of the stage.

The bartender comes over and points at Rebecca. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Rebecca sits up, and in her most adult voice, says, “Bring me a rum and Coke.”

“Sure,” the bartender replies. “Can I see your ID?”

Rebecca sighs. “Bring me a Coke.”

“Coming up,” the bartender says and starts to go.

Rebecca says after her, “No ice”, which the bartender acknowledges, then looks over the menu, deciding on fries, and mac and cheese (Decatur’s Best!) by the time the bartender returns. Her food order handled, Rebecca sips her Coke and turns so she’s facing the stage. There are, at least, three guitars, a small drum set, and keyboards onstage, with a couple of tambourines and a harmonica holder hanging from the mic stands. Rebecca looked at the poster that described the artists performing when she bought her ticket, but other than one called Echo, who she’s not sure is a person or a group, she can’t recall them.

Lately, Rebecca has felt in need of some sort of release. A sophomore at Decatur High School (Class of 1999!), she’s the oldest sibling in her family, which consists of her, younger brother Steven, and mother Sharon. Her father, Owen, a pilot, abandoned the family when Rebecca was nine — “flew right out of our lives,” Sharon always says — and Rebecca has not had any contact with him since. For the past six months, her aunt, Rachel Lawson, has been living with them, having come to look after Sharon, after she was diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer. It was Sharon who suggested Rebecca have a night out, perhaps correctly sensing her daughter could use a break.

As upbeat and positive as Rachel tries to be around Rebecca and Steven, she’s never sugarcoated the stark facts of Sharon’s illness or chances for survival. Sharon had ignored the symptoms, then put off treatment too long, despite warnings from Rachel, who had been living on the West Coast when Sharon first started complaining of feeling run down. In recent weeks, Rebecca has seen her mother’s energy level further drain away, as Sharon moved from the previous aggressive treatment she’d endured to what Rachel now calls “maintenance of pain”. Rebecca and Steven have both been reluctant to leave the house for fear their mother might slip away while they’re gone, but tonight, Sharon had insisted, giving Rebecca plenty of money to do whatever she wanted, once Steven left to spend the evening with a school mate.

Rebecca’s food arrives, and she starts eating. She tastes the mac and cheese, then douses it with a generous helping of Tabasco sauce, then tries another bite.

“Best gets better,” she says.

As the crowd starts filling in, a tall, shapely, dark-haired woman in her early-20s enters and leans against a stool near Rebecca, who can’t tear her eyes away. The woman sits with her back to the bar, and seems to be watching the door for someone.

Rebecca decides to try her luck. Leaning toward the woman, she says, “Excuse me. Are you performing?”

The woman glances over her shoulder at Rebecca, before returning her eyes to the door. She gives a quick, “No.”

Rebecca considers this, then presses ahead. “I’m Rebecca. Ah, Becky.”

“Good for you,” the tall woman says without looking. She rises, and Rebecca looks to see a tall, slender, dark-haired man, accompanied by a small woman with light, red hair, who looks not much older than Rebecca, headed toward the tall woman.

“We set?” the man says.

“Yeah, I talked to the sound guy,” the tall woman says. “He seems to know what’s what.”

“What, what, what,” the smaller woman says, all the while twisting her head slightly to the left. “Let’s get ready. We’re opening.”

They move away from the bar and toward the stage. Rebecca keeps her eyes on the tall woman. She suspects it could be love at first sight.

For more than a year, Rebecca has been trying to come to terms with the feelings she’s been having for some of her female classmates. She’s well aware of the implications, having been exposed to the topics in human sexuality class, but had not anticipated that it would affect her in a personal sense. Still, she concludes, if it’s how she is, there’s nothing much she can do about it, so she might as well learn to live with it. She doubts her mother or Steven will mind, and has considered broaching the topic with Rachel, but Rebecca isn’t sure how much she trusts her aunt. Rachel isn’t quite what Rebecca was expecting from her mother’s description of her older sister.

Sharon has always described Rachel as a “classic free spirit” and always seemed a bit in awe of her slightly older sister. Rachel moved to California in the 70s right out of high school with her best friend, and her life there has been shrouded in mystery. From what little she’s been told, Rebecca knows Rachel’s friend died, and Rachel became a nurse, but Sharon hasn’t spoken much of what Rachel was doing during the 80s. Prior to Rachel’s arrival, Rebecca formed this image of this wild party girl, hobnobbing with celebrities and cruising LA in a hot sports car. The woman who appeared at the house this past November was totally different, more “new age” than Rebecca expected, with few stories of her exciting Hollywood lifestyle.

The trio of the tall woman and her two companions are now on stage, the man behind the keyboards, and the smaller woman holding a guitar. The tall woman appears to be helping with setup, communicating with the person in the booth as the smaller woman strums the guitar. The lights dim, and the tall woman takes a seat to the right of the stage. A man who identifies himself as Eddie comes to the stage, tells the audience to “hush up” while the singers are performing, and introduces the first act, Echo.

The smaller woman tells the crowd she’s Charlotte, and introduces her brother, Brian on the keyboards, then launches into a song that leaves Rebecca blown away. For such a small person, Charlotte has a huge voice, that floods into every corner of the room, and puts Rebecca in mind of Alison Moyet or Annie Lenox. At one point, midway through the forty-minute set, the tall woman goes to the booth and speaks to the man running sound. She spends the remainder of the performance stationed in front of the booth, listening.

Afterward, Rebecca heads to the lobby between the music room and the patio, where Charlotte is speaking to some audience members, and signing people up for Echo’s mailing list. Brian and the tall woman are packing up their instruments.

“I enjoyed your performance,” Rebecca says, as she’s adding her name to the list.

“Thanks,” Charlotte says. “We’re going to be working on an album real soon.” Her speaking voice reminds Rebecca of how her father’s relatives around Macon talk.

“Is that other woman your sister?” Rebecca asks.

“Sister, sister, sis–” Charlotte begins, giving Rebecca an idea of where the group gets its name. “No, that’s our friend, Claire. She does our sound and helps set up.”

Brian enters and joins Charlotte, who introduces Rebecca.

“Always nice to gain a new fan,” he says as he shakes Rebecca’s hand.

“Is Claire waiting?” Charlotte says, to which Brian nods. She looks back to Rebecca. “It’s great meeting you, Becky. Hopefully we’ll get some stuff out to the mailing list about our next show.”

“I’ll look for it,” Rebecca says.

Once Charlotte and Brian leave, Rebecca goes back to the music room and settles her tab. She hangs out for a couple more performers, but can’t stop worrying about her mother, so she decides to call it a night and heads home.

Rebecca makes a mental note to try and keep up with Echo, but in the meantime, life intrudes. Less than a month later, Sharon Asher loses her battle with cancer. 

Leah and Dottie

Ballet Olympia, SunTrust Plaza, Atlanta, GA.

Leah Walker enters her dorm room at Wellesley College and sets her backpack onto a chair. It’s her freshman year, and her roommate, Heather, is visiting family for several days, so Leah’s looking forward to having the room to herself for a long weekend. Leah’s average height, with shoulder-length auburn hair, and steel-blue eyes. She’s wearing her usual attire of baggie warmup shorts, New Balance sneakers, and an oversized MIT sweatshirt. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She drops her keys onto the nightstand and takes a package of red Solo cups from the top drawer, removes one cup, and replaces the rest. From behind the nightstand, she takes out a bottle of Merlot she bought at a package store in Boston which never checks ID, unscrews the top, and pours half a cup.

Leah’s from Atlanta, and Wellesley is her first time living away from her family. She continued to live in her family’s home in Buckhead after the family moved to Lawrenceville just before the start of her senior year at Pace Academy, but Leah doesn’t count that, since her father, Paxton, was there off and on throughout the week. Leah had objected to the long commute, and both her parents deemed her responsible enough to go it alone for the remaining time before graduation. Since Paxton still had business in town during the week, he would stay at the house evenings when he needed to be at the office early. Leah viewed it as an opportunity to get closer to her father, with whom she’d always had a tense and distant relationship. Unfortunately, the best they managed was a sort of détente, where they’d exchange a few words going or coming, or, a bit of conversation if Paxton happened to be around in the living room while Leah was working on a school assignment.

She sits on her bed, takes a sip of wine, and picks up a copy of The Handmaid’s Tale, a gift from Marla Prentice, an instructor in one of Leah’s core Humanities classes, and with whom Leah’s been spending a lot of time lately. Starting her second week at school, Leah found herself involved in a rather passionate relationship with Marla, which started nearly the moment she entered class, and fell under Marla’s scrutiny. After class, Marla made a point of striking up a conversation with Leah. Marla’s a few inches taller than Leah, and several years older, with a trim, athletic build, and jet black hair, that’s very long, and which she wears in dreads. She always wears short, dark dresses, over tights in various colors, with clogs. Her complexion gives Leah the impression that Marla’s of mixed race, though Leah can’t tell which races went into the mix. Marla’s very economical in the facts she shares about herself. She speaks and moves with a frenetic energy, which Leah finds infectious. They ran into one another a short while later, on a smoke break before lunch, and Marla invited Leah to join her for a bite. They ended up back at Marla’s apartment, just off campus, where things got very heated very quickly. Over the next week, their afternoon dalliances progressed into an intense physical relationship, which surprised Leah, as she’s never before entertained ideas of being involved with another woman.

The situation excites and troubles Leah, who finds the intimacy thrilling, but wonders what it all means. Throughout high school, she had the usual teen relationships, occasional dates with guys she knew from math class or science club, who’d take her out after school, or sometimes evenings, often with other computer geeks like her, and she had a number of girls she spent time with in school and out, or with whom she played on the lacrosse or softball teams, but she’d never entertained the thought of having a sexual relationship with any of them, male or female, nor could she recall ever having crushes on any of her female teachers, regardless of how attractive they’d been. It worries her that she could be so unaware of such an important aspect of her personality, and wonders what else she might have missed. A few days into the relationship, Leah decided she needed advice from someone more worldly.

She has a great relationship with her mother, Melinda, but she’s not sure how her mother will react to Leah potentially being a lesbian, so, for advice, she decided to sound out her aunt Margaret on the matter. Since childhood, Margaret has been an important influence on Leah, second only to Melinda, with whom Margaret’s been friends since college. Like Leah, Margaret is a first-born daughter, who’s two years older than Paxton, and it was Margaret who introduced Paxton to Melinda when Leah’s mother was still in college. Melinda had traveled to Atlanta from Charleston, South Carolina, to attend Agnes Scott, with the intention of being a teacher, but instead met and married Paxton Walker. As she was getting started back at school, she discovered she was pregnant with Leah, and put her dreams of teaching on hold. Leah has always harbored a bit of guilt, knowing that she prevented her mother from finishing school, but Melinda’s always maintained a cheerful and upbeat attitude about it, telling Leah she’ll head back to school once Alyssa, Leah’s baby sister, who’s twelve years younger, is out of the house.

Leah phoned Margaret and wasted little time in getting to the point.

“Margaret, have you ever been with another woman?” Leah asked.

“In what sense do you mean that?” Margaret said, a bit of discomfort evident in her voice.

“Seriously?” Leah said. “What sense do you think?”

“Oh,” Margaret said. “Well, if that’s what you mean, then no.”

“Have you thought about it?” Leah said.

“Hmm, let me guess,” Margaret said, “you’re asking because you’ve either thought about it, or—”

“No, I’m way beyond thinking about it, at this point,” Leah said.

“I see. Well. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes,” Leah said.

“Then what’s the problem?” Margaret asked. “If you had a good time, where’s the harm?”

“But what does it mean?” Leah said.

“Why does it have to mean something?” Margaret said.

“I guess it doesn’t have to,” Leah said. “It just usually does.”

“Look, you didn’t go blind and you weren’t struck by lightning were you?” Margaret asked

“Not yet.”

“Then, we can assume the universe is okay with it,” Margaret said.

“I don’t know if I’m okay with it,” Leah said, “I mean, I like her, but I don’t think either of us is interested in a real relationship.”

“Is it ongoing?” Margaret asked.

“As of right now, it is,” Leah said.

“Then go with it,” Margaret said. “See where it leads. I’ve never found myself in this situation, so I don’t know how I’d respond. You went away to college to learn, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, part of that is learning about yourself,” Margaret said. “You have an excellent opportunity to explore who you are without the glare of your family judging your every move. Take advantage of that.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Margaret.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” Margaret said. “Let me know how things turn out.”

Leah leans back on her bed and resumes reading the book. She manages about five pages when her reading is interrupted by the sound of someone pounding insistently on the door. An unfamiliar voice follows the first round of pounding. “Open this door, you bitch!”

The pounding resumes.

Leah puts down the book and cautiously approaches the door.

“Who is it?” she says.

“I said open this door,” the voice says, “I’m going to kick your ass, you slut.”

Whoever’s outside sounds drunk.

Leah looks at Heather’s bed, then says, “Are you here to kick the ass of a brunette or a redhead? Cause the brunette isn’t here.”

There’s a long pause, before, “Kind of reddish brown. Not a brunette.”

“Perfect,” Leah says to herself.

She considers calling campus security, but decides against it. As the next round of pounding begins, she quickly pulls open the door. A young woman, about Leah’s age and height, with curly, dirty blonde hair, and wearing a short, polka dotted dress and slip-on sneakers, comes tumbling into the room. She falls to her hands and knees and seems somewhat confused. Leah takes the opportunity to grab her roommate’s umbrella, which she brandishes as a weapon.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” Leah says to the woman. “Apart from what you’ve already stated.”

“I said I’m going to kick your ass, you bitch,” the woman says as she struggles to get her footing and rise. She looks up at Leah, then says, “Yeah. You.” She looks around for something to hold onto. At last, she pulls herself up on a table and stands up straight, but swaying, as she confronts Leah. She’s wearing a slight amount of makeup, but it’s gotten splotchy from crying. Leah holds the umbrella in front of her as she speaks.

“Okay, I gather that you’re pissed about something,” Leah says. “Why don’t we start with your name. Who are you?”

“I’m Dottie,” the woman says. “Dorothy, actually, but most people call me Dottie.”

“Okay — ah — Dottie,” Leah says, still brandishing the umbrella. “I’m Leah — or do you already know that?”

“How the hell should I know what your name is?” Dottie says.

“You showed up at my door wanting to beat me up,” Leah says, “I assume you’d know my name. What’s this about?”

“It’s about Marla,” Dottie says.

“Marla Prentice? What about her?”

Dottie begins to reply, but suddenly throws her hand over her mouth and starts to heave. Leah hurriedly points to the bathroom. Dottie quickly stumbles in and kicks the door closed. Leah can hear her vomiting. She puts down the umbrella and sits on her bed until she hears the sounds subside. At last, the toilet flushes, followed by the sound of water running in the sink. This goes on for several minutes before Dottie returns to the room, far more subdued than when she left. Leah motions to Heather’s bed and Dottie sits.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” Leah says. “You want to kick my ass and it has something to do with Marla.”

“You stole her from me,” Dottie says. “She won’t return my calls. Then I saw you with her at our coffee shop.”

“Coffee shop?” Leah says. “You mean Sandusky’s? I took her there.”

“You did?” Dottie says. “She said it was our special place.”

“Yeah, she sort of told me the same thing after our first visit,” Leah says. “When did you start seeing her?”

“Right after classes started,” Dottie says. “About a month after I got here.”

“So did I,” Leah says. An idea occurs to her. “Did she take you to The Jewel of the Nile?”

Dottie nods. “The night we first—”

Leah holds up her hand. “Same here.”

“Why aren’t you upset?” Dottie says. “I just confirmed I’ve been sleeping with Marla. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Not really,” Leah says. “I haven’t figured out exactly what our relationship is yet. I take it you feel a bit more committed?”

“I haven’t felt this way before,” Dottie says. “I was all ready to tell my family I’m gay and she ditches me. Told me I’m getting too serious. I figured there was someone else, so I followed her. That’s where I saw you.”

“Meaning you must have followed me here,” Leah says.

“Yesterday,” Dottie says. “It took me all afternoon to get up the courage to come over.”

“Speaking of which,” Leah says. “How much did you drink?”

“Bottle, bottle and a half,” Dottie says. She notices the book and points to it. “I suppose she gave you that.”

“She did.”

“I gave it to her,” Dottie says.

Leah picks it up and looks at the spine. “You’re DG? She said it was on the book when she bought it.”

Dottie nods. “Dorothy Gage.”

“Isn’t that the person in The Wizard of Oz?” Leah says.

“Oh, that’s original,” Dottie says. “Her name is Dorothy Gale. Don’t change the subject.”

“What makes you think I stole Marla from you?” Leah says. “Sounds to me like she’s been leading us both on.”

“Yeah, it’s starting to look that way,” Dottie says. “There’s this girl in my English Lit class who said she had an affair with Marla last year. I didn’t want to believe her, but then I saw the two of you together.”

“Why didn’t you confront Marla?” Leah says.

“I tried, but she’s not at her apartment,” Dottie says.

Leah shakes her head. “She’s never there on the weekend. Hmm. This makes me wonder where she goes.”

Dottie looks down. “Would you mind if I just lie down for a minute or two?”

“You’re not going to throw up again are you? I doubt Heather would like that, and I don’t feel like cleaning up after you.”

“God, I hope not,” Dottie replies. She lies on her side, and pulls her knees up, crossing her arms in front of her.

“I suppose you can kick my ass when you wake up,” Leah says.

“Maybe,” Dottie says as she drifts off.

Leah continues reading while Dottie sleeps. She’s still asleep when Leah goes to bed. The following morning, Dottie is awake and very embarrassed by her behavior. Leah treats Dottie to breakfast at the nearest cafe, and they have a long talk, where they discover a lot of common interests. Leah is fluent in most of the European languages, owing to her family’s many visits to the continent as she was growing up, and she’s pleased to learn Dottie is as well. They switch to speaking German to keep people from eavesdropping on them as they decide what to do about Marla. By the time they part ways, they’ve developed a plan of action.

A few days later, Leah is sitting with Marla at the coffee shop. They’re discussing The Handmaid’s Tale.

“Take that lesson to heart,” Marla tells her. “Men are not to be trusted.”

“They certainly didn’t come off very well in the book,” Leah says.

“Have you read any of Dworkin’s work?” Marla says.

“Andrea Dworkin? I’ve heard of her.”

Marla suddenly focuses on something over Leah’s shoulder and shakes her head. “I don’t believe this.”

“What is it?” Leah says. She looks to see Dottie seated at the lunch counter, wearing dark glasses, situated where she has a good view of Leah and Marla.

“Nothing,” Marla says. “Just this student who’s been giving me a hard time over a grade.” Marla rises. “Excuse me just a minute.”

She goes over and confronts Dottie in low tones. While she’s gone, Leah slides over and picks up Marla’s bag. She checks to be sure Marla isn’t looking, then she pulls out Marla’s wallet and checks her driver’s license and credit cards. Finished, she replaces the wallet, and puts the bag back where it was. She moves back to her chair, and makes an okay sign to Dottie, who abruptly breaks off her argument with Marla, gathers her things, and storms out.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Marla says when she returns to the table. “I failed her on a test and she’s been stalking me ever since.”

“Not a problem,” Leah says. “Say, where do you disappear to on the weekends?”

“Where did this come from all of a sudden?” Marla says.

“I’m just curious,” Leah says. “I figured you must be sneaking off to some cozy little bed and breakfast to write and might want some company.”

Marla laughs. “Trust me, if I was, you’d be the first one I’d call.” She reaches over and places her hand on Leah’s. “I’m free for the next hour. Want to swing by my place?”

“I’d love to,” Leah says, “but I have a midterm in chemistry coming up. I’ll take a rain check, though.”

“You’re on,” Marla says. They talk for a few minutes before Leah insists she needs to go. Marla walks her to the door and they part with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then head off in different directions. Leah walks about half a block, then checks to be sure Marla is far enough away, then ducks down a side street and circles back to the rear of the coffee shop, where she finds Dottie seated on the back deck. Leah sits with her.

“Anything?” Dottie says.

Leah shakes her head. “Her license has her campus address. But it did have a different name, Marla Rogan.”

“Rogan?” Dottie says. “That kind of takes some of the luster off.”

Leah leans forward and says confidentially, “Know anyone who works for the university? If I can get on the computer network, I can probably hack into payroll and find out where they’re mailing her checks.”

“Actually, I do,” Dottie says, “and she spends a lot of time away from her desk.” She rises. “Come on.”

Several hours later, they’re back at Leah’s dorm room with new information.

“Shrewsbury,” Dottie says. “Figures she’d live someplace called Shrewsbury.”

“She’s also listed as Mrs. Marla Rogan in payroll,” Leah says.

“I can’t believe you got in so easily,” Dottie says. “How’d you know Barb’s password?”

“I didn’t,” Leah says. “I took the chance she used ‘password’ and it worked.”

“So, what next?”

Leah grins. “Marla has classes all morning. How about a trip to Shrewsbury?”

Dottie laughs. “So, I wonder what the husband of the ultimate feminist looks like?”

“Only one way to find out,” Leah says.

The following morning they hop into Leah’s Karmann Ghia, which Margaret loaned her as she headed off to college, and drove to the address in Shrewsbury, where Marla’s paychecks are being sent. Parked out in front of the brownstone, Dottie says, “You think this is a good idea?”

“Probably not, but I don’t see a lot of options,” Leah replies. “If we just ignore her, she’ll keep doing this.”

“I mean, rather than the dumping part, I did have a good time,” Dottie says.

“Same here,” Leah says. “But she’s taking advantage of impressionable girls when they’re least equipped to handle it.”

“Right,” Dottie says. “We’re just taking a stand. That’s all.”

“Right,” Leah says. She holds up her hand and Dottie grips it and nods.

“Let’s do this,” Dottie says.

They get out and walk up to the door. Dottie rings the bell. A few moments later, a child can be heard yelling, followed by the locks being unlocked. A thin man, probably just under six feet tall, with short blonde hair and tanned, leathery skin, opens the door.

“Yes?” he says. “How may I help you?”

He speaks with the precise phrasing that’s reminiscent of someone who’s first language isn’t English, but Leah cannot detect any recognizable accent.

“Hi,” she says, “are you Mr. Rogan?”

“I’m Lance Rogan, yes,” the man says.

“I’m Dorothy,” Dottie says, “this is Leah. We’re — ah — friends of Marla’s.”

“Ah, yes,” Lance says. “Marla’s not here currently. I believe she’s teaching today.”

“We know,” Leah says. “We’re not here to speak with her.”

“More to speak about her,” Dottie adds.

“I don’t understand,” Lance says. He opens the outer security door. “Please come in.”

As they enter, Leah notes a black woman, wearing a uniform and holding the hand of a small boy.

“Nina, would you take Alexander to the play room?” Lance says to her.

“Of course, Mr. Rogan,” Nina says in what sounds, to Leah, like a Jamaican accent.

“Please have a seat in here,” Lance says, directing the women to the living room. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

“Water would be great,” Dottie says, to which Leah nods.

Leah and Dottie sit on the couch. A moment later, Lance returns with a pitcher and two glasses on a tray which he sets on the coffee table in front of them. He takes a seat in a leather chair facing them.

“Now, how may I help you ladies?” he says. “You say this is about Marla?”

Leah and Dottie look at one another and Leah says, “Mr. Rogan, there’s probably no easy way to say this, but Dorothy and I have been — involved with Marla.”

Lance continues to look at them displaying no emotion. “I see. Why have you brought this information to me? Are you here for money?”

“Oh, no. No. Nothing like that,” Dottie says.

Leah slides to the edge of the couch. “She’s right. We’re here because we feel we’ve been taken advantage of and we wanted to let you know.”

“Please, tell me your stories,” Lance says.

First Dottie, then Leah tells Lance about their relationships with Marla. Throughout both stories, his expression does not change, nor does he display any reaction, other than to occasionally nod. When Leah finishes her story, they sit for a long moment in silence.

Finally, Lance says, “What is it you wish me to do about this? That is, if you are certain you’re not here for money.”

“We don’t exactly know,” Leah says. “To be honest, we didn’t really think this part through very well before coming here.”

“I see,” Lance says with the hint of a smile. “Well, I do not wish to share intimate details of my marriage, since I know nothing about either of you. However I will say that I am aware Marla has certain needs that I’m not able to address. If you have been harmed in any way I apologize.” He rises. “I’ll have a talk with her when she gets in this evening, and we’ll decide together how best to handle this situation.”

He motions toward the door. Leah and Dottie rise and follow him back to the front door.

“I trust you will be making no further trips to visit us?” he says.

Leah and Dottie look at one another.

“Definitely not,” Dottie says. Leah concurs.

“Very good,” Lance says. “I will appreciate your continued discretion on this matter, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Leah says.

“You ladies have an nice afternoon,” Lance says as he lets them out.

Back in the car, Dottie says, “What just happened in there?”

“I have no idea,” Leah says. “Let’s get lunch somewhere.”

“You’re on.”

The following day, when Leah shows up for her Humanities class, Marla isn’t there. The instructor filling in for her explains that Marla has taken a leave of absence for “family reasons”. Neither Leah, nor Dottie, see or hear from her again.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Dottie says as she and Leah are lying on the bed in her dorm room. “You think she’s okay?”

“Hard to tell,” Leah says. “That’s an odd family.”

“We make a pretty good team,” Dottie says. “I have this feeling you and I are going to get into lots of trouble together.”

“I think you’re right,” Leah says. “Still planning on telling your family you’re gay?”

“Nah, I’ve gone back to questioning,” Dottie says. “Why limit myself? My family can figure it out on their own.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Leah says.

“Hey,” Dottie says, sitting up. “What do you think about getting an apartment?”

“Now?”

“No,” Dottie says, “over the summer. You know, just stick around Boston instead of going home.”

“Summer’s a long way off,” Leah says.

“I know. But it doesn’t hurt to plan,” Dottie says. “If we strike at the right time, we could get a great deal.”

“Oh, trust me, I know real estate,” Leah says. “My father’s the man who gave Atlanta its suburban sprawl.”

“Good to know,” Dottie says.

From that point on, not a day goes by that they don’t spend time together. As summer comes along, they move off campus into a nice apartment.

Worthy, Part 50 (Final)

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In late-October, Abigail receives an invitation for an interview at Emory Medical School scheduled for January. She once again consults Winn, who gives her an overview of what to expect. 

“Your grades are exceptional, your MCAT was in the top percentile, and you have professional experience in a clinic, not to mention your extracurricular activities. It might not seem like editing a book or playing music would matter for medical school, but it shows you’re a well-rounded individual and that you can multitask.”

“Great. How do I handle the interviews?”

“Be yourself. They want to get to know you. In my experience, they were more like conversations than straight Q&A sessions but it differs from school to school and between interviewers. They have certain things they want to know, but they’re more interested in how you conduct yourself, how you’ll fit in and adapt, how you perform under stress.” He leans forward and rubs her shoulder. “Don’t worry. They’re going to love you.”

Since she’s local, Abigail arranges to stay at Leah’s the two days she’s to be at Emory so she can better utilize public transportation. She hasn’t yet told her mother because Rhiannon is coming to town in early-November, and Abigail wants to tell her in person. Rhiannon has stated she wants to meet all the friends and family Abigail has connected with in the short time she’s been in town. Winn and Roger insist on hosting another party for them. Abigail requests that Rachel and Claire be included on the guest list as well as Gloria. Genevieve requests that Steven be added. 

In the meantime, Abigail, Genevieve, and Gloria continue to gather and edit Rebecca’s blog entries. Genevieve has noted several themes in Rebecca’s writing and proposes grouping them together accordingly which meets with the approval of the others. At length, they weed it down to fifty articles from which to choose, several of which are multi-part posts which they combine into single essays. They meet at Leah’s to hammer out the final selection and the ordering and to finalize a rough draft — Abigail feels they should be grouped by publication date, whereas Genevieve believes they should be grouped by theme. Gloria proposes a compromise, grouping them thematically, but ordering them by date, to which the cousins agree. At length, they settle on twenty-four articles for the first collection. Once the final rough draft is done, Gloria volunteers to work through it, editing for grammar, punctuation, and continuity, with Genevieve backing her up. For a title, they agree to use the name of Rebecca’s blog, The Frantic Feminist. 

Rhiannon arrives November 3 for a week-long stay, and books a room at the Hyatt Regency downtown where her conference will be. Abigail meets her there, and over dinner at the Polaris, the blue domed restaurant at the top of the Hyatt, she tells her mother about her interview with Emory. 

“I am so proud of you, kiddo,” Rhiannon says, putting her arm around Abigail and giving her a squeeze.

“Don’t you think I’m a little too old for you to call me that now?”

“Okay, how about Dr. Kiddo, then?”

“That’s better.”

Abigail spends the night in her mother’s hotel room, catching up on news of her grandmother, and friends from Seattle. The following evening they have dinner with Genevieve and Leah, and the evening is spent trading stories about Rosalind. Leah’s easily rival those of Rhiannon. Genevieve shares a few, but mostly listens. 

Abigail is surprised to learn of the educational resources available through her company. When she mentions to her supervisor that she hopes to attend medical school, she’s pointed to a host of programs Bickering Plummet provides to employees who want to pursue higher degrees. Since Abigail’s focus is on becoming a researcher rather than a practicing physician, that’s viewed as a potential asset to the company, and funds are available to assist. She begins to wonder if she’ll need the money Leah and Alyssa set aside for her. 

“I’ve never had so many people who wanted to just give me money before,” she confides in Rhiannon. “Plus Emory offers scholarships.”

“You’re worth it,” her mother says. “If you don’t think so, it’s time to start.”

At the party, Rhiannon hits it off with Winn, Roger, and the Caines, who bring the baby. Leah Naomi quickly becomes the center of attention for the other guests, everyone wanting to have a turn holding her, or fawning over her. Abigail is happy to see Gloria seems to fit in with everyone, especially her mother. Rhiannon is happy to see Rachal again, and Claire seems to hit it off with Roger and Winn, spending much of her time talking to them. When she’s introduced to Genevieve, and hears how she came into being, Claire takes an extreme interest in the process. Leah and Genevieve give her a brief overview, explaining about the remaining embryos. This sends Claire back to talk to Winn about a confidential matter. Neil and Zoë are there and Neil teases Winn about the circumstances of Leah Naomi’s birth. Winn takes it in stride. “You did good little brother.”

By mid-December, Abigail, Genevieve, and Gloria have settled on a final manuscript of The Frantic Feminist, and print out copies for Steven, Rachel, Claire, Alyssa, and Leah to read over and offer comments. The final version contains twenty-four essays covering several of Rebecca’s favorite topics, including movies, music, relationships, and politics and is around two hundred pages. Steven is extremely happy with the manuscript, and treats the trio to dinner at a nice restaurant. Claire requests that several references to “the girlfriend” be altered, as she feels they too closely identify her, and Genevieve, who has come to know Rebecca’s writing the best, undertakes the assignment. Everyone else responds positively, including Tim, who’s read Alyssa’s copy. Satisfied, Abigail contacts the literary agent who knew Rebecca, who requests a full copy of the manuscript. 

As January rolls around, Abigail becomes more anxious about her interviews, despite reassurances from everyone she knows. Rhiannon tells her during one of their regular phone calls that she wants to know immediately how Abigail feels she did. The night before, Leah takes her and Genevieve out for dinner and a musical event at the Rialto downtown to help get her mind off things. 

The following morning, Abigail heads to Emory’s campus where she spends the next two days in a whirlwind of activity, meeting faculty and students, discussing her goals, interviewing for two concentrations, and hopefully making a good impression. She befriends several other prospective students including a guy from Oklahoma, a woman from Kenya, and a married couple from Columbia, and they all hang out between scheduled events. When it’s all done, she heads back to John’s Creek to assess all that went on and begin the process of worrying again.

Fortunately, she has her music to distract her. She and Gloria have been writing songs and playing at open mic nights as Worthy Savage and have been getting much positive input. She especially likes it when they’re on the bill with Neil’s band, who, with the core of Neil, Zoë, and Genevieve, have undergone a number of personnel and name changes. Recently they’ve been going by Kneel, suggested by Zoë to placate her boyfriend over the fact that she and Genevieve get most of the attention. Neil doesn’t seem fazed, though, as he’s integrated himself into a group of musicians who perform jams around town, playing covers of classic bands like The Stones or Steely Dan, and genres like Prog or Country Rock.

Abigail receives notice in mid-February that she’s been accepted for matriculation at Emory, and is invited back for a revisit in March. At about the same time, she hears from Rebecca’s friend who tells her a publisher is very interested in The Frantic Feminist. She and Steven meet to discuss how they’ll proceed. Since he doesn’t have a background in literary contract negotiations, he arranges a meeting with a colleague who does. After a few meetings with the agent and publisher’s representatives, they agree on terms, and a timeline for publication. Separately, Steven and Abigail agree on the percentage she and the others will receive on any royalties or other profits the book earns, and the terms meet with the approval of Genevieve and Gloria. The remainder will go into a separate account which Steven plans to use for philanthropic endeavors in Rebecca’s name. 

At her revisit with Emory in March, Abigail makes her final decision to attend. She’s happy to see a couple of friends she met during interviews are there as well. When the session is over, she gets a packet containing the form she needs to return once she’s made her decision.

“Can I just fill it out and give it to you now?”

With that, she completes all the requirements for admission. As she heads home on MARTA, she finally sits back and allows herself to relax. She has no idea what the future holds, but for once, she’s confident she’ll be ready. 

Note: This concludes the serialized episodes of Worthy. Please use the link in the blog’s header to catch up on previous sections. I’m hoping to have the editing completed before Summer. Keep an eye out for the finished book.

Worthy, Part 49

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To fill her free time until she hears from Emory, Abigail volunteers to help Steven with a project. His sister, Rebecca, who died in a car crash in 2005, had a blog and published numerous articles in online publications around the region. Steven has wanted to compile them for publication, but has never had the time or know how in tracking down all Rebecca’s posts. A few years earlier, Leah managed to salvage a number of files from the hard drive of Rebecca’s laptop, which was severely damaged in the crash, and supplies Abigail with a CD of the text files she was able to save, and Steven has continued to pay the annual fees on Rebecca’s main blog account, so those posts are still there. For the rest, Abigail will need to mine the Internet. She employs Genevieve, who’s more than eager to assist, and whose research skills rival those of Abigail’s. 

For background, Steven suggests that Abigail meet with Claire, who was dating Rebecca at the time of her death. Claire invites Abigail to meet her at a club where Claire works as a sound engineer one afternoon while she’s setting up and testing some new equipment. Abigail hopes to gain insight into Steven’s sister, but also has some curiosity about Claire and Rachel’s relationship. 

“Steven said you and Rebecca had a rather contentious relationship.”

“That’s an understatement. He should know, though. He saw enough of it close up, poor guy.”

“Why’d you stay together?”

“Rachel’s always saying I’m drawn to lost causes. Becky was certainly that. She was so out of control when I first got to know her, I was afraid she’d harm herself if I left.”

“That sounds serious.”

“I guess the psychologists would say it played on my need to save someone.”

“What finally happened between you?”

“After she settled down, we both started to lose interest, but she got killed before we could resolve anything.”

“Steven told me you didn’t date for a while.”

“I don’t date now. Steven used to attribute the tendency to my relationship with Becky, but the truth is I just don’t like to date. It’s certainly not for lack of offers. Some of the women who hit on me are more aggressive than some of the men. Becky sure was.”

As they talk, Claire lets down her guard and her speech drifts from the indistinct Atlanta accent she’s developed back into more of a slow drawl common to middle Georgia where she’s from.

“Becky liked being with other women. She thought she was hiding it from me but she wasn’t very subtle about it.”

“I’m guessing that was a problem.”

“Sometimes. I kinda understood it though. They gave her something I never would.”

“You’re telling me you and Rebecca never had sex?”

“I only had sex one time in my life and that was forced on me. If it ever happens again it’s going to be my choice.”

Abigail lets the topic drop, not wanting to pry too much into Claire’s private history. Instead, she decides to ask about Rachel.

“Would you mind if I ask you a personal question?” 

“Ask. I’ll let you know if I mind.”

“Are you in love with Rachel?”

“I love her and I’d do anything for her because she’s the kind of woman I’d be if I could.”

“But you’re not together. At least, not a couple.”

“That’s her decision and I understand her reasons but it’s not for me to say what those are. I care enough for her to honor her decision.”

“She cares about you, that’s obvious.”

“Lost causes. It’s enough for me to be near her.”

“You don’t identify as a lesbian.”

“What does that even mean? The man I grew up thinking was my father thought I was just because I had a good friend when I was in school. We weren’t doing anything and I didn’t even think of her that way. He just looked at us with his twisted and perverted mind and decided he had to stop it. I don’t even ask myself that question anymore because he and my mother beat any curiosity I might have had out of me when I was sixteen.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, that’s all right. Leah and Rachel helped me to see that I don’t have anything to be ashamed of. All I can tell you is I don’t like men, but I got a lot of good reasons that don’t have anything to do with that. Maybe if I’d stayed home, didn’t have so much trouble with my family, I might have met some guy, got married and settled down. That’s what was expected of me and I didn’t have reason to question it.”

She turns so she’s facing Abigail.

“When I first came to Atlanta, I got a job as a waitress and when I was old enough I worked in bars. Guys there would hit on me all the time and I hated it. Not just their words but the way they’d look at me. Even when I wasn’t dressed sexy, they’d stare like hungry animals. It’s why I started bartending in gay clubs, because the men there left me alone. With the exception of Steven Asher, almost every decent man I’ve ever known has been gay. I can be any way I want in front of them and they don’t care; they just accept me or ignore me.”

“I can understand that.”

“I am who I am because of the circumstances of my life. Rachel accepts that. Becky never could. You ask me if I’m in love with Rachel. How could I not be?”

They talk for another fifteen or twenty minutes and when they conclude the interview, Abigail gives Claire a long hug. “Take care of yourself, Claire.”

Abigail ends her day back at her room at the Caines’ with Gloria, discussing their favorite topic.

“We can always get married in Seattle,” Gloria says. 

“But your family’s here. Mine is mostly here now, except for Mom, and I don’t think she’d have a problem traveling. Even if we get married there, it won’t be recognized here.”

“Think we’ll ever be able to get married in Georgia?” Gloria says. 

“Maybe. Probably not for a long time, though.” She lies back and leans against Gloria. “Just one thing. If we decide to hyphenate our names, yours should come first.”

“Why do you say that?”

With a laugh, Abigail says, “Otherwise, we’d be Worthy Savages.”

Gloria thinks about it, then they both burst into laughter.

“Hey, that would be a great name for our act, though,” Gloria says. “Worthy Savage.”

Abigail considers it. “You’re right.” She sits up in bed. “I think before we talk about marriage, we should at least have our own place. As accommodating as Alyssa and Tim are, I know they want to raise a family of their own.”

“Agreed. House or condo?”

“Condo. Who wants to cut the grass.”

“I don’t know. I kind of like working outside. Having a garden would be nice.”

“There you go, then. That’s the issue that finally comes between us.”

Gloria swats her with a pillow. “Considering we’re nowhere near affording a studio apartment in Atlanta, we have quite a while before we need to decide on long-term accommodations. I’ll wear you down.”

“Something to look forward to.”

“How’s the project coming along.”

“Steven thinks his sister wrote enough for a book, but honestly, I think there’s too much for one book. She published an original blog post once a day for nearly two years, plus she published weekly in five or six local publications for more than a year. For all her faults, being diligent in her writing wasn’t one of them. On top of that, Steven says she kept a diary for as long as he can remember.”

“Need any help?”

“Yes. Genni’s helping me compile things and she’s a decent writer and editor, but she’s taking classes now so her time’s limited.”

“Put me in, coach. I edited my campus newspaper in college, and I know my way around a computer. You can attest to my literary skills.”

“Welcome aboard, then. What do you know about this Cloud stuff?”

“Quite a bit. They’re using it at the hospital.”

“Wonderful. We can set up some type of collaborative effort with Genni.” She sits up. “I heard from one of Rebecca’s former friends who’s an agent. When she found out I was working on this, she asked me to send her a sample chapter when it was ready. Turns out she was talking to Rebecca about it before she died and knew a publisher who was interested.”

“That’s a good start. Show me what you have so far.”

They move to the computer and start reviewing files.

Worthy, Part 48

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It takes Abigail a little over a week to arrange an outing including Genevieve, Neil, and others in the band for Gloria to meet them. They’re playing at an open mic competition at a club in Norcross, not far from where Gloria lives, and this time, Abigail insists on picking her up. She and Gloria also have a surprise for the others, since they’ve been playing and writing songs together for several days. They’ll also be competing in the open mic as a duo.

“I can’t explain it,” Abigail tells Genevieve in a phone call, “the moment we met, I felt a connection. Ever since, we’ve just gotten closer.”

“I’m glad to hear you’ve found someone. I’m always worried you’re too driven to have a personal life. The band is the only thing you’ve done for relaxation.”

“I like to work. Sue me.”

“By the way, I may have convinced Steven to come to the show.”

“How did you manage that?”

“He was at the office the other day and I played him an MP3 from our last show.”

“And he wasn’t just saying he’d be there to get you to stop bugging him?”

“No. He sounded genuinely interested. But, he might bring a date.”

“You know, if you looked around, you could probably find some geeky guy at Tech you’d have a better shot with.”

“Yes. I know. Leah says the same thing.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to her. She knows Steven better than you do.”

“And she says he’s not looking for a long-term relationship currently.”

“Why does that encourage you?”

“Because I’m not either. Hopefully, by the time I am, he’ll be.”

“Sounds like a long shot.”

“Sort of like coming all the way to Atlanta and having a medical recruiter introduce you to the love of your life?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

On the night of the show, Neil reserves a block of tables for the crowd they expect. He and Zoë  get there first, followed soon after by Genevieve, Abigail, and Gloria. Abigail makes the introductions and everyone welcomes Gloria. They head over to the tables while Genevieve waits in front for stragglers.

Steven arrives with an attractive woman who appears to be of South American descent. He introduces her as Matilda Alavares, a public defender for Fulton County. As they’re shaking hands, Genevieve says something to her in Spanish. Matilda, a bit surprised, replies in Spanish, and she and Genevieve have a brief conversation, mainly relating to family origins.

“My friends call me Mattie,” she tells Genevieve.

“Genni.”

Genevieve leads them to the tables the band has reserved.

“Is Leah coming?” Neil asks.

“No, she has plans with her college friend,” Genevieve says.

“You’re the one who delivered Alyssa’s and Tim’s daughter, aren’t you?” Steven asks Neil.

“Yep, that’s me,” Neil says.

“Oh, I have got to hear about this,” Matilda says. “Someone in the office was talking about it when it happened.”

Neil and Abigail tell them the story.

The band is scheduled to go on toward the middle of the show, which gives them time to get acquainted. Abigail is pleased to see Gloria seems to fit in well. Matilda recognizes her from a poetry slam a few months ago in Decatur.

“I think I should let everyone know why I can’t play tonight,” Abigail says.

“Yeah. I was wondering about that,” Neil says. “Hang on. I saw a group in the lineup called Ab & Glo.”

“That’s us,” Gloria says. “We’ve written a few numbers we’d like to try out.”

“You’re stealing her away from us already,” Neil says, shaking his finger at Gloria.

“Does that make me Yoko?” Gloria says.

Neil considers it. “No. If you’re Yoko, then I can’t be John Lennon. You can be Linda Eastman.”

“What’s the big deal?” Genevieve says. “I can play everything Abby can.”

“That’s true,” Zoë says. “And I can play just about everything else.”

“Stop,” Neil says, holding up his hands. “You’re not kicking me out of my own band.”

“What’s up with Freddy, by the way?” Abigail says.

“Annie insisted he return to Portland,” Zoë says. “She gave him an ultimatum; either he comes back or she’s going to drive his Mustang off a cliff.”

“Okay.” Abigail shakes her head. “I thought they were in therapy.”

“It actually seems to be working,” Neil says. “Before she’d have just done it.”

The show runner signals to Neil to get ready.

“That’s us,” he says. To Abigail he says, “Hope you brought your A game, sis. We’ll be hard to beat.”

“You’re playing one of my songs,” Abigail replies.

“Then we’ve got this in the bag,” Neil says over his shoulder.

With Freddy absent, Neil takes the drumming duties, while Genevieve and Sarah team up on vocals. They do an Abigail original and a Neil and Zoë collaboration. Each group gets two songs, and if the audience likes them enough to make the final three, they get another song. The band’s set is very well received.

There are two acts between them and Ab & Glo, and while the second group is finishing their first song, Abigail gets the nod from the show runner.

Their set consists of two collaborations, combining alluring harmonies with complex guitar work, which also has the crowd on their feet. Neither group is surprised when they both get called back for the final three. The crowd seems to respond to the trio a bit more, so they end up in first place with Abigail and Gloria second. Still, they regard the evening as a success.

“So, what did you two think?” Genevieve asks Steven and Matilda.

“I had a great time,” Matilda says.

“Same here,” Steven echoes. “You’re very talented, Genevieve.”

Genevieve later confides to Abigail that she also regards the evening as a success.

Worthy, Part 47

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Abigail’s recruiter follows through on his promise to set up a meeting between Abigail and his other client, Gloria Savage. After making sure both are okay with the idea, he texts each one the other’s number. Abigail wrestles with the decision to call or wait to hear from Gloria. She lets a day pass before deciding to take the initiative herself, but just as she starts to dial Gloria’s number, a call comes in from Gloria.

“Gloria? Hi, I was calling you. Yes. I just keyed in your area code.”

They talk for about twenty minutes, mainly comparing likes, dislikes, and entertainment preferences, and discussing where they should meet. They learn that they live reasonably close to one another, Abigail in John’s Creek, and Gloria in Norcross. At length, Gloria proposes meeting for coffee after work at Cafe Intermezzo on Ashford Dunwoody Road, where they’ll have numerous options for dinner if they don’t fill up on pastries.

That night, while helping Alyssa tend to Leah Naomi, Abigail brings up a sensitive topic.

“How would you feel about me having guests over?” she asks Alyssa.

“You should consider this your home. If you want to bring someone over, we’ll accommodate them.”

Abigail hesitates a moment. “What if that someone wants to spend the night?”

Alyssa smiles. “Ah. Of course.” She considers her answer. “Your room is at the end of the hall, and I’m pretty sure you’d be conscientious of the noise level.”

Abigail laughs. “I’d do the best I could.”

“Just let us know someone’s here so there aren’t any awkward encounters.”

“No problem.”

A day or so later, Abigail heads over to meet Gloria. As she’s walking in, she looks up and comes to a stop. Standing a few feet in front of her, also stopped and staring, is the woman she recognizes from the photo Robert sent her.

“Gloria?”

“Yes. You must be Abigail.”

They shake hands and remark on the coincidence of them arriving at the exact same time despite their different modes of travel.

“I usually plan to arrive a little early,” Gloria says.

“Tell me about it. The traffic is terrible over here. That’s why I took the train.”

They enter and find an out of the way table. Abigail immediately feels comfortable around Gloria.

“The desserts here are excellent,” Gloria says. “You spring for coffee and I’ll get the dessert since it was my idea.”

“Sure.”

They check out the desserts and decide what they want. Back at the table, Abigail says, “What do you do for Allied?”

“I’m a nurse in one of their clinics — my first job since graduation.”

“Where’d you go to school?”

“GSU, School of Nursing.”

“My mother’s a nurse. Very challenging profession.”

“It is, but very rewarding.”

“Definitely.”

“What do they have you doing over at Bickering Plummet?”

“I conduct genetic research for their pharmaceutical division.”

“Cutting edge work. That’s pretty challenging as well.”

As the date goes on, they find themselves getting along very well.

“I’d really love to continue this evening someplace less public,” Gloria says.

“I was just thinking the same thing. How far is your place from here?”

“I’d rather not go there. I’m currently living with my family until I get some of my debts paid off.”

“You haven’t told them?”

“Oh, I have. They’re just not very good with privacy.”

Abigail thinks about it.

“The couple I’m living with are pretty cool. But there’s a baby.”

“You’re not sleeping in the nursery are you?”

“No. The baby actually sleeps in the room with her parents.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They settle their bill and head out to Gloria’s car. Once inside, they look at one another and, on a whim, Abigail leans in to kiss Gloria. They end up making out for several minutes.

“Wow,” Abigail says. “I have never acted like that before.”

“Yeah, me neither. How far is it to your place?”

“John’s Creek, just off Peachtree Parkway.”

“Good. I know a short cut that should get us around traffic.”

When they arrive at the Caine residence, they find Alyssa and Tim entertaining friends, who’ve come to see the baby, out by the pool. Abigail introduces Gloria.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Alyssa says.

“I think we’re going to head upstairs for a little while,” Abigail says. “She really wants to see my room.”

“Well, then, have fun,” Alyssa says with a wink.

A little over an hour later, they rejoin the group outside. They’re holding hands and are very affectionate toward one another.

“I guess she likes your room,” Alyssa whispers to Abigail at one point.

“Definitely,” Abigail replies.

The following morning, Abigail wakes up beside Gloria, who appears to still be asleep. She rolls over to watch her.

Gloria opens her eyes.

“Morning. Did I wake you?”

“No. I was just lying here with my eyes closed. Remind me again, when did we meet?”

“Yeah, I know. I think this fulfills all the qualifications for a whirlwind romance.”

“Robert wasn’t kidding when he says he does his research.” She rolls over to face Abigail. They kiss. “So, we’re together. It’s Saturday. What do you want to do?”

“Why do we need to do anything?”

“Good question.”

“I dread when we start learning all the horrible things from each other’s past that will come between us.”

“Have you been picking up men at rest stops and murdering them?”

“Would that be a problem?”

Gloria shrugs. “Depends on the men, I guess. For my part, I promise I don’t moonlight as a stripper named Glory.”

“Too bad. You’d probably make a fortune in tips. Get those loans paid off quicker.”

“Okay, at some point, we can head over to my place and you can meet the family. If that doesn’t scare you off, it must be love.”

“Sure. Later I’ll introduce you to Neil and Genevieve. But we don’t have to do anything right away, do we?”

She leans back and Gloria puts her head on Abigail’s shoulder. “Not at all.”

After much discussion, they come to an agreement that if they’re still together in three months, they’ll start looking for an apartment together.

Worthy, Part 46

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The office where Abigail will be working is in Chamblee, but for her initial orientation phase, she’s stationed at the main office downtown for several days, until all her paperwork goes through. There, she takes all the required coursework, ethics, time charging, security awareness, and other topics, all designed to insure she’s acknowledged every rule and regulation and can begin her employment well informed. Since she’s still relatively new to town, it’s also recommended she sit in on the Atlanta newcomers orientation, which tells new hires how to navigate the city along with places of interest to check out. Leah has already supplied her with a similar list, which, she stated, are all the generic tourist spots which show up in every guide to the city and which should mostly be avoided. 

On her first day with Bickering Plummet, Abigail learns of the odd reputation of its president, who everyone refers to as Mr. Bickering. It is said that those who address him otherwise run the risk of being “busted back to a banana” which is a common threat of his, with no explanation as to what that means. When she came to process in, while waiting for her supervisor to usher her into the restricted areas, Abigail noted an older gentleman seated in the lobby, just sort of hanging out. When she made eye contact with him, he gave her a friendly smile and nodded, with a pleasant, “Good morning.” She later learns that this is Mr. Bickering, who frequently hangs out in the lobby watching people come and go, until such time as he’s needed upstairs and someone goes to fetch him. Once she knows who he is, she sees him quite a bit, wandering around the floors, seemingly deep in thought. Sometimes, over the intercom, she’ll hear an announcement, “If anyone knows the whereabouts of Mr. Bickering, please call the front office.”

This afternoon, Genevieve is driving Abigail home so she can visit Alyssa, Tim, and the new baby. Abigail is expecting Genevieve around five, and she plans to be in the lobby in time to intercept her cousin to limit the time Genevieve spends at Bickering. 

Around four-fifteen, her phone rings.

“Abigail Worthy, you have a visitor in the lobby.”

“A visitor?”

“A young woman who says she’s your cousin.”

“Genevieve? She’s not supposed to be here yet.”

Abigail hangs up and gathers her belongings, then hurries to the lobby to find her worst fears realized; Genevieve is seated, talking to Mr. Bickering. They appear to be having a nice conversation. 

“When I was your age, I was working at Six Flags,” Mr. Bickering is saying as Abigail walks up. “I worked Rides.”

“That must have been fun,” Genevieve says.

“No, not really. I didn’t get along with anyone on the crew. They never let me operate the rides, just cleanup.” He notices Abigail. “Oh, hello, you must be Abby.”

He rises and offers his hand.

“Yes. Mr. Bickering. I am.”

“So nice to put a name with a face.” He indicates Genevieve. “I’ve been having a lovely chat with your cousin.”

“I see that. What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Bickering was telling me about some of the places he’s worked.”

“Oh yes,” he says. “Mostly my employment history is somewhat boring — various family endeavors — but once, I struck out on my own and worked at Six Flags.”

“Interesting,” Abigail says.

“I was so surprised when Genevieve walked in. I haven’t seen her since she gave that remarkable speech at her school in Seattle.”

“You remember that?” Abigail asks.

“Oh, indeed. It was one of the best student presentations I’ve heard.”

“I’ve never understood why you liked it so much,” Genevieve says. “I really trashed your company. All your handlers were totally pissed off.”

“Young lady, nothing you said in that essay was untrue. Your talk was well-researched, well-prepared, well-written, and very well delivered. It took a lot of courage to stand on that stage and give that speech especially with me sitting right behind you. I hear a lot of student speeches that sound like they were written with faculty advisers reading over their shoulders, but you spoke your mind, and I was very impressed.”

“Thanks,” Genevieve says. She looks at Abigail. “Would you mind taking a picture of us, Abby?” She looks back to Mr. Bickering. “I’d sort of like to make up for the one I took at school.”

“Sure,” Abigail says and takes out her phone.

Genevieve and Mr. Bickering pose with their arms around one another and with big smiles. 

“Please send me a copy as well,” Mr. Bickering says. 

“I will, just as soon as I’m set up on email,” Abigail replies. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’m supposed to be in a meeting now.”

Genevieve watches as he boards the elevator. “How can such a sweet man be in charge of such a rotten company?”

“Seriously, Genni, a lot of what Bickering does is very beneficial.”

“Yeah, that’s what I hear. A lot of it isn’t.”

Abigail says, “Even though you’re early, I’m ready.”

She and Genevieve head out to the parking lot.