Chapter One - part II
Nov. 18th, 2008 06:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thestrangeaeons
She arrived at her apartment just ahead of the rain. It had begun to drizzle when she reached her block, and the rain had seemed to increase in direct proportion to how quickly she wheeled her bicycle up the sidewalk.
Juliet was aware that she’d been very lucky finding this apartment. It was less than a mile from Wycliffe College campus, which she attended four days of the week, and in a part of town that, while aged, was not quite eligible for ‘seedy’. More importantly, she was able to keep up rent on what she earned working part time in the campus bookshop and what little she made as an extremely part-time librarian’s assistant. Her father paid the bulk of her tuition; she took defensive pride in paying for her own apartment.
Just as she reached the front door, lightning flashed, thunder crackled, and the quilt of thick grey clouds split open. Sheets of rain poured out of the sky, and Juliet quickly carried her bicycle up the steps and inside. She rolled it into her storage closet, locked the closet door, and made her way to the small, faded entrance lounge.
She got herself a cup of coffee, added a dash of cream, and turned to watch the rain through the front window. She’d always liked rain, provided she wasn’t out in it. The subdued grey of the sky and the rhythmic patter of raindrops suited her pensive nature.
There were only a few drops of coffee left in the pot. Juliet dutifully made a fresh pot, hoping at least one of her neighbors would return the courtesy at some point in the future, but knowing they wouldn’t. She tossed her styrofoam cup into the trash and headed for the elevator.
Most days she took the stairs to her third-floor apartment, but she allowed herself an elevator ride today. She brushed some dirt off her forearm, looking forward to getting upstairs and into a hot shower. Too much nature was still clinging to her.
She stepped out of the elevator when it arrived at her floor, paused, frowned. There was a light on in her apartment. This wouldn’t be a source of confusion, except Juliet was fairly sure she’d turned the lights off before setting off on her bike ride, and she didn’t have a roommate to turn them back on. Unless you counted Hootie, who was a goldfish and not predisposed to mucking about with the light switches, or doing much at all aside from blowing bubbles.
Juliet tried the doorknob, which, unsurprisingly, turned. She pushed the door open, hoping she wasn’t walking in on a robbery, and was greeted instead by the hot, spicy smell of cooking chili. Oh, that was it, then. Relieved, she permitted herself a smile as she crossed the threshold.
“Hi, Walt,” she said, slipping off her shoes.
Walt Pritchard, stationed in front of her stove, smiled back at her. “Hi, Juliet. I thought I’d surprise you, but I was hoping to be finished by the time you got home.” He hefted the wooden mixing spoon he’d been stirring the chili with and gave an apologetic shrug. “Obviously that didn’t quite work out.”
“And to think I was detoured today, even,” she teased, and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to go wash up, I’m a bit too connected to nature at the moment.”
“No hurry. This’ll be another ten minutes at least. Detoured, though? What happened?”
“I’ll tell you all about it after I become beautiful through the miracle of cosmetics. And get this dirt out of my hair,” Juliet added as she went into her bathroom.
She wondered what the occasion was. In the year or so they’d been dating, Walt had never shown up at her apartment unannounced before. She’d given him a key a few months ago so that he could feed Hootie and water her spider lily while she visited her mother, but as far as she knew he’d never used it aside from that.
She continued to wonder about it while she stepped into the shower and shampooed her hair. Possibly there was something special about today, and she’d just forgotten it. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Freshly clean and clad in her robe, Juliet emerged from the bathroom just as Walt was ladling the chili into bowls. “Smells fantastic,” she said, and got out two spoons. She traded one to Walt for a bowl, and the two of them retreated to the couch to eat it.
“I can’t understand how you’ve lived here for a year and a half and you still don’t have a kitchen table,” Walt said, gingerly removing Juliet’s laptop from the end of the couch to the floor. “Don’t you get tired of balancing plates in your lap?”
“I eat at the counter,” Juliet confessed. “Great chili.” It was actually quite a bit over-spiced, but Juliet wasn’t going to tell Walt that. He’d gone out of his way to make her dinner, and she appreciated the gesture, even if the content left something to be desired.
“Thanks. I figured it made a better excuse to show up than just ‘Juliet, light of my life, it’s been two weeks since we’ve seen each other properly and I am simply dying of love for you.”
“Do I detect a note of accusation?”
“You might,” he agreed, “if you don’t invite me to stay for dessert.”
“I might have some pudding mix somewhere.” Had it really been two weeks? Juliet found herself counting back to the last day she’d seen Walt, and was surprised to acknowledge that it had, in fact, been that long. She honestly hadn’t noticed. She averted her gaze, hoping he couldn’t read it in her eyes.
“Pudding sounds good,” said Walt gravely, getting up to fill his bowl with more of the rather vile chili. “What’s bothering you, hon?”
“Bothering me? Nothing’s bothering me.”
“When you walked in you looked like someone had shot your dog.”
“You know I don’t like dogs,” Juliet said.
“And you know I didn’t mean it literally,” he replied. He had her there.
“I was worried you might be a robber. You’ve never dropped by unannounced before. Not that I’m not glad to see you–”
“Well, I would have called, but I never know whether you’ll be home or if you’re out on your bike. Or if you’re just letting the phone ring so you don’t have to deal with me,” he joked.
Luckily his back was to her, because Juliet’s cheeks flamed red with shame. She had done exactly that a time or two. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, didn’t want to talk to him. Lately, though, he’d been getting very pushy on a subject she didn’t like to discuss, and her efforts to put him off had been unsuccessful. She only hoped he hadn’t come here just to bring it up again.
“Juliet? More chili?”
“No thanks,” she said. “Gotta save room for that pudding.”
Walt returned from the kitchenette with a heaping bowl. Clearly he wasn’t worried about his appetite. Instead of the couch, he opted for the easy chair kitty-corner beside it. “You’ll have leftovers, I guess.”
“Well, good. I won’t have to pack a lunch tomorrow then,” said Juliet, not telling him that she planned to scrape most of it down the sink.
There was a moment of quiet. Walt toyed with his spoon. Juliet took her bowl to the sink to wash out. She checked in one of the kitchen cabinets to see if she did have pudding mix, or if she’d imagined it. After a moment of rummaging, she found a package of chocolate pudding mix cleverly hidden between a jar of fancy pasta she’d forgotten she had and a box of dried apricots. She freed it and set it on the counter, found a mixing bowl, and got a carton of milk from the fridge.
All the while, Walt sat quietly, watching her. Juliet hoped he would be content to do so, and not mention the uncomfortable issue that he usually insisted she discuss.
She was adding the milk to the pudding mix when he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Juliet tensed involuntarily, but he didn’t comment. After a moment, she forced herself to relax and continue with the pudding. She’d wait for him to speak.
Finally, he did. “Have you given it any more thought?” he asked, not sounding especially hopeful.
Juliet sighed. “Walt, I told you. I don’t want to get engaged while I’m still in college.”
“Juliet, I understand that. But to be fair, you still don’t even know what you want to do with your life! You could be in college for the next ten years for all we know.”
That stung a little, because it was true. “That isn’t fair, Walt. I’m going to be a botanist. You know that.”
“But you don’t want to be a botanist.”
She didn’t. She’d enrolled at Wycliffe College with the verbal support of her mother and monetary support of her father to take advantage of its well-regarded fine arts program. As it turned out, Juliet was not meant to be an artist, no matter how much she enjoyed sketching and painting watercolors. She couldn’t take the criticism, as she’d discovered early on. Living with a perhaps too-enthusiastic mother had not helped her grow a thick skin, and her father, who she saw rarely, was also always quick to praise her art. While still in high school, she’d been one of the better painters, and she’d thought, on some not-quite-conscious level of her mind, that she always would be.
Arriving at college had put an end to that illusion. Her first and only roommate, Valerie, was also an art student and, to Juliet’s dismay, was at least twice as talented as she. Valerie had always been careful to find things in Juliet’s artwork to extol as well as critique, but the mere existence of Valerie’s superior works had hurt some. Class critiques had not improved matters. She hadn’t been able to handle it, and dropped most of her art classes. Botany had been a random choice when, confronted by the school board, she’d been forced to pick a major. At the time, it had seemed the farthest she could get from art, and that alone had decided her choice.
“That may be, but I can only waste so much of Dad’s money before he says enough is enough and stops paying my tuition,” she said lightly, even though they both knew that Trey Reynolds would pay for his only daughter to go to Harvard if she wanted.
Walt let this lie pass gracefully. “I don’t see why we can’t get engaged now, though. I’m okay with waiting for you to graduate before we get married, but I love you, Juliet. I already know you’re the girl I want to marry.”
Juliet didn’t reply. She loved him too, of course. But she couldn’t think about marrying him yet. She had too much else to think about. To tell him that, though, would just sound needlessly cruel.
“Or, if you won’t accept a ring, then why not at least move in? My place has plenty of space for you, and Hootie too,” he teased, kissing her neck. “You’d save money on rent, and you’d be able to make some of the tuition payments on your own. All I’d ask for in return is wild sex three nights out of the week–”
“Like you don’t get that anyway,” she said, turning in his arms and kissing him. She wished he’d just let it go. Couldn’t he tell the subject distressed her?
The truth was, she liked her independence. She’d been adequately comfortable in the dorm room she’d shared with Valerie in Mackensie Hall, but as amicable and fun as Valerie was, Juliet had never been at ease sharing her space with her friend. She had always been a private, distant sort of person, and cohabitation did not suit her.
All of which she’d told Walt, but he seemed to think that time, or constant pestering, would change her mind.
“You want to get married someday, don’t you?” he’d say. Which she did. Spending her entire life alone did not appeal. “Then it won’t hurt to get some practice in.” And, without fail, the conversation would end with Juliet walking home or asking him to leave, depending on location. She would have thought Walt would give it a rest. Sometimes she felt like slapping him. Or swearing off dating.
“Look,” she said, when the kiss broke, “why don’t we table this for now, okay? This isn’t going anywhere.”
“Do you mean the discussion or the pudding?” he asked with a crooked smile.
“The discussion. I promised you dessert, after all.”
“I can think of something I’d rather eat,” said Walt, sweeping her off her feet.
“Put me down, you Neanderthal!” she giggled, hammering at his chest. He carried her to the couch and dropped her on it unceremoniously. Still laughing, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him down onto the couch with her. This she could get into. Things were so much simpler when he just wanted to kiss her.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-18 08:00 pm (UTC)Too much nature was still clinging to her.
I like this very much.
I also like how her apartment looks very much like she just moved in. I can relate. I still keep all my toiletries, shoes, and pots and pans in cardboard boxes and we moved in here over a year ago.
I am also mildly excited about being the first comment and simultaneously feel mildly ashamed for being mildly excited.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-20 12:46 pm (UTC)I'm glad this struck a chord. I'm sorry at the same time, though, because Juliet obviously is not the happiest of people.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-18 08:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-20 12:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-19 12:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-20 12:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-19 05:13 pm (UTC)SQUEEEE! K, reading now.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-19 05:33 pm (UTC)I again like the details you've put in, like about how she had a jar of pasta she forgot about. It's relatable, because I happen to know that if I went through my cupboards, I would find some things I do not remember purchasing. Juliet in general is a very relatable character, which is what I think you're going for.
Walt. What can we say about Walt (without telling all your readers the things I know about Walt)? I think it's funny how he's all "Marrige. I am here...to talk...about...marria--pretty girl! *snogfest*" Way to focus, bro.
The pictures are so perfect! I love the one where she's all "ohmahgawdz, burgler?" then she realizes it's her boyfriend in the next one and she's all "Skippity yay!" (Sorry to lolcat your story, but...well just sorry. :P)
ANYWAY, overall comment: Super great. (Which in Sarahnese is better than awesome.)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-20 12:50 pm (UTC)Thanks, I think I did do marginally better with the pictures this time than last time, but there's still a lot of room for improvement, so hopefully next time they'll be even more.. better.
Never be sorry for lolcatting! 8D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-03 02:20 pm (UTC)I love the details you include. A botanist who doesn't enjoy getting wet in the rain, and dirt bothers her. The whole deal about the pudding (reminds me of the strange boxes I have in my pantry which I never intend to open and not really sure how they got there).
Beautiful and ominous atmosphere and lovely shots. Just adore the way you write!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-05 09:02 am (UTC)I find strange, unexplained boxes in my pantry too. I nearly mistyped that as 'boxers'. Happily I have yet to come upon those.