Work Text:
Sometimes, life is as twisted as it could possibly be. As if someone (many would use the term “God” here, but Ava was not one of them) made it that way on purpose, just for fun. Today was one of those days.
The morning appointment was for a pretty important shoot. The client had sent over four pages of descriptions and sample images with a font size of 9, so Ava had spent all of yesterday afternoon preparing. When Ava arrived at the subway station this morning with a bag full of gear, the client had rescheduled the appointment due to an “urgent personal matter.” Ava hoped that whatever the reason was, it would be very annoying and inconvenient—assuming that no one’s life was in danger.
On her way back to the apartment with heavy footsteps—well, the filming equipment was cumbersome—Ava ran into Mrs. Steiffen, who lived on the second floor. She was looking for her cat as usual, but in fact, 80% of their conversation was less about the cat and more about the gossip of the other people who lived in the apartment. Ava did not mention that her cat, Jackie, had visited the white cat who lived in 107. Yes, 107, the one who smokes pot and listens to 90’s rock music.
When she was done listening to Mrs. Steiffen’s lengthy, rambling analysis of the connection between the frequent loss of packages in this apartment and the ongoing election, it was time for lunch. Irregular meal times didn’t cause Ava much stress, but her favorite deli was closed today. As she munched on a slightly soggy croissant from the nearest coffee shop, Ava wondered why some people find it so difficult to simply toast a premade loaf of bread in the oven.
During lunch, Ava opened her laptop to finish some photo editing she had been working on yesterday morning, and suddenly, the screen flickered and turned blue. Not a good sign. In the hope that the auto-save function had worked, Ava accidentally knocked over her paper coffee cup, spilling black liquid all over the laptop’s keyboard. Kill confirmed. Ava decided to be thankful that it wasn’t her camera (which was more expensive than her laptop) next to it.
With that thought, Ava leaned against the kitchen counter and pouted into her phone. JC had said he was going to be late today. It wasn’t the most pleasant news, but Ava knew how much his father meant to him, so she immediately understood. Hopefully, the doctor will be able to check on his father soon.
Lilith also called to say that she’d be running late, having to meet with a client. Damn clients. Ava prayed that something very annoying would happen to Lilith’s clients, too. And then—
Ava frowned at the message on her phone. It was Camila.
C: Ava, I’m running late. I have an emergency. I’ll talk to you about it when I get there. Love you!
Ava sighed and cursed under her breath at someone—probably God—who had once again made the situation as difficult as possible. Typically, she would have spent the time alone enjoying the food she had prepared for the gathering, but not today. Ava left the kitchen and made her way to the living room. The woman on the couch looked up. Ava looked into her brown eyes and smiled deliberately.
“Two other friends are running a little late as well.”
“Oh, yeah. Got it.” The woman smiled back, a little awkwardly, and nodded.
Ava raised her eyebrows and scratched her head a little before returning to the kitchen. She quickly searched her memory and remembered the woman’s name. Beatrice. She was a college friend of JC’s. She was visiting New York for the first time in a long time. Unlike Ava’s other friends who were supposed to meet here today, Beatrice had arrived at the apartment right on time. Fittingly, with a bottle of wine and some nibbles. Ava sighed. Nothing was going as planned today, and to top it off, she had to entertain this stranger until her other friends arrived.
Ava chose the easiest option first: Feed the stranger. Ava opened the refrigerator and found the salami and cheese Beatrice had brought earlier. Feed the stranger what they had brought, perfect. Pulling the cheese plate out of the cabinet, Ava unwrapped the sausage and looked at the bottle of wine. It was probably a decent white wine, not too expensive, not too cheap. If Ava had to guess a little further, it was probably a wine as neat as Beatrice herself. Ava pouted as she arranged the sausage and cheese on the cheese plate. She decided to make some guacamole to go with it. Beatrice seemed to be sitting in the living room, presumably unmoved. Ava figured Beatrice wasn’t that outgoing either, which meant she was probably enduring a considerable amount of awkwardness right now.
Taking the cheese plate and bowl of guacamole to the dining table, Ava said, “Would you like something to eat?”
“Yes, of course.” Beatrice got up from the couch as soon as she heard that. Ava guessed the degree of awkwardness Beatrice was feeling from the speed of her reaction.
Gesturing for Beatrice to take a seat, Ava fetched a wine opener, poured wine into two modestly priced glasses (a gift from JC not long ago), and grinned. “Sauvignon Blanc.”
“I thought it would go well with the appetizers. If you don’t like white wine, please pass,” Beatrice said, suddenly seeing Ava’s expression.
“No, I’m not too fussy about my drinks, thank you.”
Silence.
Ava was trying her best to get out of this awkwardness as quickly as possible. At the same time, she wasn’t sure why she had the feeling she’d just invited someone from Tinder straight to her place. Maybe it was because if she’d seen this person on Tinder, she’d liked their looks enough to swipe right.
Beatrice took the glass and thanked Ava gently.
Ava laughed again. “So it looks like you’re stuck with me for a while. But—it could be worse, right?”
Beatrice swirled her wine glass lightly, looked at Ava’s face again, and smiled a little brighter. “Well, I was stuck with a lion last week. At least you wouldn’t look at me like I’m a pre-packaged meal.”
Ava opened her mouth for a moment at that, then giggled. “Normally, I’d find at least three inappropriate jokes in what you just said,” she said, taking a sip of her wine, “but considering we just met thirty minutes ago, I’ll stick to the most socially acceptable topic. You got stuck with a lion last week?”
Beatrice laughed briefly. Ava knew Beatrice liked the joke she’d just told, as most people do. Beatrice nodded. “Yes, last Wednesday, to be exact.”
“So, where did you say you were before you came to New York?” Ava sat down at the dining table.
“I arrived from Kenya the day before yesterday.”
“Interesting.” Ava picked up a sausage and popped it into her mouth. Kenya, not bad. That alone could lead to at least half an hour of conversation. “You’re there for a trip?”
“For work.” Beatrice grabbed a nacho chip and carefully scooped guacamole.
“Really? Oh—” Ava quickly searched her memory again to find what JC had said. “I heard that you’re a journalist, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“So you interviewed a lion?”
Beatrice laughed again, briefly. Frankly, this was not the best joke. Ava considered herself lucky that it worked. Beatrice took a sip of wine and cleared her throat. “It would have been a much more exciting story if I had. But I was there to meet some people who work for one of the UN agencies in Kenya.”
“Oh.” Ava nodded, picked up a slice of cheese, and grinned. “Well, at least you still met a lion.”
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t know if they were willing to be interviewed, but I got lucky. My guide seemed to think so at first.”
“How close did you get?”
“It was a young male. He came so close to the truck we were in. I could hear his loud breathing.”
“Oh boy, weren’t you scared?”
“I didn’t look him in the eye. I just kept praying inside that he wasn’t looking for any special food that day.”
“Luckily, you weren’t his type of food,” Ava said, then quickly added, “Sorry, I keep forgetting that we just met half an hour ago. I tend to make this kind of joke with my friends.”
“No, don’t worry.” Beatrice smiled. “Luckily, the lion wasn’t in the mood to try anything new that day.”
“Great.” Ava decided to spend the next ten minutes or so on this topic. “Then tell me about some of the less interesting interviewees.”
“I see you like to take pictures.” Beatrice turned to face the living room.
Ava looked at her living room wall, illuminated by a pale yellow light. On the walls were a variety of photographs, all of which had been taken by Ava herself. Ava shrugged at Beatrice, who looked back at her. “Yeah, that’s my job.”
“Really? That’s cool.” Beatrice’s eyes widened slightly. She hesitated half a second before asking, “Do you mind if I take a look?”
“Not at all, of course.” Ava shoved a nacho chip into her mouth and stood up. No visitor ever bothered to ask Ava if they could look at her photos, but Beatrice seemed to be the kind of person who would approach them only after asking permission. Being careful with other people’s things probably meant that she didn’t want people touching her things either. After a moment’s thought, Ava paused in front of the photos and smiled at Beatrice, who was standing behind her.
“This is New York.” Beatrice looked at a photo.
“Yes, where 2nd Avenue meets 45th Street. Ah—” Ava giggled as if she realized something. “That’s near the UN headquarters.”
Beatrice thought a bit, then nodded. “That’s right.”
“Aren’t you interviewing people who work at the headquarters?”
Beatrice smiled, shook her head, and looked at the photo. “Nice picture of that pigeon.”
“As soon as I took the picture, it swooped down on me. Have you ever been attacked by a pigeon?”
Beatrice laughed. “Not yet.”
“Well, this isn’t something I’d say to someone who met a lion last week, but pigeons are scary. I had to get down on the ground to get this angle. I almost thought I would lose my eyes when this came at my face.”
“Oh.” Beatrice looked at the photo again. “I see. The camera would have had to be on the ground for this angle.”
“People think being a photographer is all cool and glamorous,” Ava said, then realized she didn’t know what Beatrice was thinking, “but most of the time, my body is stuck to the floor or wall in weird positions while I’m taking pictures. Well, it’s also a lot easier when the subject isn’t attacking me.”
“Like a pigeon.”
“Or a lion.” Ava grinned.
“I should have taken some pictures when the lion was around.” Beatrice smiled back.
“You didn’t?” Ava feigned playful surprise.
“I don’t take pictures much. I’m not very good at it, and I prefer to be in the moment.” Beatrice suddenly looked a little surprised by her own words. “Of course, I always find it amazing when someone captures the moment better than I could experience it myself.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t be offended by those comments.” Ava giggled. “A photograph selectively captures the moment, and it’s my choice how to cut through that reality.”
Beatrice remained silent, staring at the rows of photographs along the wall. Ava left her alone, sat at the dining table, and then looked back at Beatrice. Beatrice was wearing an off-white shirt and gray pants, which matched her overall demeanor—just the kind of professional walking down the street in New York City—but the little bit of pale skin that peeked out from under the watchband she was wearing revealed that she came from a place where the sun was intense. The freckles on her face were probably darker than usual, Ava thought, shifting her gaze to the cheese plate just in time for Beatrice to turn around.
“Do you like being a photographer?” Beatrice asked as she walked over to the dining table.
“Are you interviewing me?” Ava grinned.
Sitting down, Beatrice picked up a nacho chip and giggled a little. “No, I’m not.”
“What do you want, the short answer or the long answer?” Ava hummed slightly and picked up a sausage. “I have fancy and unfancy versions, too.”
Beatrice, chewing her nacho chips and guacamole silently, turned her mouth down. “Shall we start with the short and fancy?”
“I love it. Like I said, I can cut reality into small pieces and trap it in that space and time, forever, if I want.”
Beatrice’s eyes lingered on Ava’s face briefly. She nodded. “I like that. So what’s the unfancy version?”
“That I’m damn good at it, and I need money to live.”
Beatrice laughed. “I like that too. Maybe even better than the fancy one.”
“There you go. Journalism.” Ava picked up the bottle of wine and poured it into Beatrice’s and her glasses.
“To the real thing.” Beatrice raised her glass and made a small toast.
“Schopenhauer,” Beatrice said, looking at the book cover on Ava’s desk, where Ava’s laptop had met its tragic end.
“Oh, that’s a gift from Lilith.” Ava turned her head and added a little more, “One of my friends who was supposed to be here today but isn’t here yet.”
“How did you like the book?”
Ava shrugged at Beatrice’s question. “Open it and look at the inside cover.”
Beatrice picked up the book, opened it, and laughed softly to herself. She read the notes out loud, “Grumpy. Hates everyone. Just like Lil. Keep an ice cream nearby to remember there’s some sweetness in the world.”
Ava giggled.
“Did you write this for yourself?” Beatrice asked.
“Well, just in case I forget, a little warning of sorts.”
Beatrice returned the book to the desk and looked around at the bookshelves beside it. Her eyes lingered on one of the books. Ava came to stand beside her. Beatrice pointed to a book and asked, “What did you think of this one?”
“Hmm.” Ava racked her memory a bit, then just pulled out the book and read aloud from her notes, “After the end, he must have reached out to her somehow. He is unique—not like a straight man.”
Beatrice looked wordlessly at Ava’s side.
Ava handed her the book. “Have you read this?”
“Yes.” Beatrice nodded. “What made you think so?”
“Which part? All of it?”
“Yes.”
Ava noticed that Beatrice was watching her very closely now. She could tell that the book meant something to Beatrice, although she couldn’t quite figure out why. Ava pouted.
“Well, I don’t know. He must have missed her a lot to leave her like that. And the unique part—well, that’s a little hard to explain.” Ava scratched her neck. “Because the way this man looks at the woman he loves is different than most men I’ve seen.”
“How?” Beatrice asked again.
Ava paused, thought for a moment, then said, “When straight men objectify women, there’s a kind of security in it. They think they deserve it and naturally assume the woman will be attracted to someone like them. So they don’t think about other possibilities—you know, like that the woman might not actually be attracted to men or anyone at all.” Ava left it there, looking at Beatrice’s face. “I don’t know if that makes sense.”
Beatrice nodded very slowly. “I think I know what you mean.”
“But in the book, he’s constantly wondering if he deserves her. I thought that was very unique.” Ava crossed her arms and grinned. “Maybe I’m picking up on these things because I’m attracted to both men and women. It’s interesting—dating a man and dating a woman are different in ways you wouldn’t expect.”
Hearing this, Beatrice looked at Ava’s face. “I see,” she said, “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Ava smiled and looked deeply into Beatrice’s eyes. She couldn’t tell what Beatrice was thinking at that moment. Ava turned to the dining table and chirped, “Would you like some fruit?”
“Sure.”
“So, how do you like your job?”
Beatrice raised her eyebrows slightly and put down her wine glass. “Not bad.”
“In the good kind of ‘not bad’ way, or do you just tolerate it?” Ava asked a little more playfully.
Beatrice paused, her face still smiling, then took another sip of wine. “In a good way.”
“Okay, great.” Ava took a sip of her wine as well.
After a moment’s hesitation, Beatrice picked up a piece of cheese. “I guess you want me to elaborate.”
“Well, if you feel comfortable.” Ava picked up a piece of cheese as well.
“Perhaps it is similar to what you said earlier about photography. I get to capture reality in a piece of writing and decide what parts of it I want to include.”
“Have you always liked writing?” Ava leaned against the table and crossed her arms.
“Yes. I’ve loved writing since I was a kid.” Beatrice nodded, touching the base of her wine glass.
“Why did you choose an article instead of a novel?”
Beatrice looked into Ava’s eyes briefly before returning to her glass. “They have a different appeal.” She thought, then looked back into Ava’s face. “You sure you want to hear this?”
“Yeah, I’m basically interviewing you.” Ava grinned.
With a slight shrug, Beatrice leaned across the table. “As much as I enjoy reading a well-crafted novel, I am fascinated by what happens in real life. There’s raw pain and beauty in it—how God can sometimes be too merciful or cruel to people. These things inevitably get sanitized to some degree when they are translated into a written story. Because the real thing sometimes seems more contrived.”
Ava narrowed her eyes, thinking. Then she pouted and nodded. “I agree, except for the part about God.”
Beatrice smiled and stared at her wine glass, then continued, “The first time I thought about it—I mean, when I thought it would be meaningful to write about what happens in real life—was when I was in college. JC and I traveled together for about a month one summer. The things that happened and the people I met during that time stayed with me.”
“Oh, is that—that time?” Ava looked up.
Beatrice nodded slightly, realizing what Ava meant. “Yes, when JC lost his mother.”
“He told me about the trip. He said he had friends who traveled with him—you were one of them.”
“I didn’t go on the whole trip, just Spain, but it was a unique experience I’ll never have again.”
“I heard about what you guys did.” Ava giggled. “That’s funny—cause you don’t seem like the kind of person who would sneak into someone’s house.”
“There are times when you do things you wouldn’t normally do.” Beatrice laughed a little brighter. Ava thought her smile was quite pretty when she did that.
“Did you ever get caught doing that?”
“We almost got caught once. We usually cleaned the house before we left, but at that time, we were in such a hurry that we just grabbed our things and ran out. I’m sure the local police were looking for us pretty hard.”
Ava imagined young Beatrice and JC running frantically through the alleys of a small village in Spain.
Beatrice glanced at Ava’s face and hesitantly said, “JC has told me a lot about you.”
Ava looked at Beatrice’s cheeks and shrugged. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Like?”
Beatrice smiled and raised her eyebrows. Ava could vaguely guess what the story was. Beatrice held her wine glass and said, “About how cool you are.”
Ava smiled back but didn’t meet her eyes. It was oddly unnerving to think about how JC would have described the relationship between him and Ava. A girl he was interested in? Maybe a potential girlfriend? Well, she and JC were closer than just friends in a way, but he would probably never be her love interest. Yes, he was sweet, funny, and definitely a bit cute, but Ava couldn’t find something that made him different from the others—even if she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. Ava felt the urge to make sure Beatrice knew this—well, she didn’t understand why she wanted that either—but at the same time, it felt strange to go into detail about her relationship with JC unless Beatrice asked.
For better or worse, Beatrice asked again, “How did you and JC meet?”
“I was a photographer at one of his company’s events.” Ava decided not to mention that JC obviously had a crush on her. Of course, there was a good chance that Beatrice would know about it. “I was supposed to film the company executives attending company events in a ‘natural, down to earth’ way,” Ava continued.
“Did it go well?”
“Uh—well, at least I managed to avoid them smiling awkwardly like clowns. It was a pretty painful shoot for them and me.” Ava giggled. “Making well-dressed men in their fifties run around like college kids is not a normal challenge.”
“I can imagine.” Beatrice smiled and nodded. There was an awkward silence. Ava was just drinking her wine. Beatrice straightened slightly and said, “JC is a pretty nice guy.”
In those words, Ava could see how JC had told Beatrice about herself and where Beatrice stood here. She wanted to change that a little. Ava smiled, then leaned back in her chair and shrugged. “Yeah, he’s a really good friend of mine.”
When Beatrice’s eyes lingered on her, Ava smiled brightly, not averting her gaze. Beatrice smiled briefly, then looked down at her phone and muttered, “Right.”
There was an awkward silence in the air. But unlike before, Ava was not desperate to break it. Beatrice looked at her phone without saying a word. Outside the window were the sounds of cars and people talking on the street. At the dining table where they sat, there was tension—not the uncomfortable kind, but a feeling mixed with anticipation. Uncertainty based on that they didn’t yet know what the stranger sitting in front of them would mean to them—and the anticipation of finding out.
Ava’s phone vibrated briefly. Checking it, she arched an eyebrow at Beatrice, who was looking at her. “Lilith. She’s still with her clients.”
“Oh, okay.” Beatrice’s eyes returned to her phone.
Ava wondered if the emotion she’d read in Beatrice’s eyes for that brief moment was relief. And if it was, she was curious what it was for: the relief of not having to initiate another conversation with a stranger, or... Then Ava realized she was feeling the same thing. She knew that the moment anyone else entered the room, this subtle tension between Beatrice and herself would be pulled back behind the curtain.
Ava’s cell phone vibrated briefly in her hand again. Ava tapped the notification without thinking and was startled by the sudden loud sound.
“When you thought you were getting a massage, but it turns into a—”
The dramatic, exaggerated moan that immediately followed caused Ava to close the app in a panic. “Fuck, Chanel!” Ava muttered, then looked up into Beatrice’s wide eyes and cleared her throat. “Sorry, it was my friend, Chanel—she always sends me funny memes without context. I should get back at her somehow.”
“No, no, it’s fine, just—” Beatrice stopped right there. The two stared at each other, then suddenly burst out laughing. Beatrice put her phone down on the table and continued to giggle. Ava also threw her phone on the table, then slowly shook her head. “She couldn’t have timed this any worse.”
“No, actually, it was perfect timing,” Beatrice said, stifling another burst of laughter.
“For what?” Ava replied playfully.
Beatrice’s smile widened. She said nothing, then just shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve been in weirder situations.”
“With who? A friend of a friend you just met today?” Ava giggled, draining the last of her wine glass.
“It was much worse, a local politician.”
“Did someone send you a dirty meme while interviewing him?”
“Not to me. We were talking about the local homeless situation, and suddenly, his cell phone rang on his desk.”
“Hmmm?”
“It wasn’t in silent mode.”
Ava laughed again. “What was the ringtone?”
“The opening theme from ‘Friends.’” Beatrice stifled a laugh and continued, “With that song blaring through his office, we stared at each other, wordless. He tried to look as unflustered as possible, gave me an apologetic gesture, got up and walked to his desk, and—”
“And?”
“I tend to make foolish decisions when I’m nervous, and this was one of those situations.”
“What did you do?” Ava gave her an amused look.
Beatrice took a deep breath and smiled. “I sang along to the song.”
“What?” Ava giggled in disbelief.
“That show was one of my favorites, so I knew all the words. I guess it was my way of saving him some embarrassment.”
“Did he appreciate it?”
“Worse, because he started singing along with me.”
Ava fell back on the table and started to laugh.
Beatrice joined in the giggles. “He even let his cell phone ring and brought it to where we sat. We both sang along until the caller got tired and gave up.”
“And what happened after that?”
“Well, he invited me to a political charity party the following week.”
“That’s fucking great.”
“That was the weirdest, most out-of-context, yet most successful rapport-building with my interviewee.”
“Cool, let’s do that here. I want to build rapport with you, and I know the lyrics to that song.” Ava picked up her phone and started to search for the song.
“No, please, I beg you.” Beatrice giggled.
Ava sighed and leaned back in her chair as she playfully fiddled with her phone. Then she turned to Beatrice, who was still laughing. “So you liked that show. I don’t know why, but it was a little unexpected.”
“Some things about me are unexpected.” Beatrice laughed.
“What other things are there?”
“Hmm.” Beatrice scratched her chin thoughtfully. “One of my guilty pleasures is watching very cheesy, clichéd romantic comedies, especially the old ones.”
“Oh, I think I know what those movies are.” Ava giggled. “Why is that a guilty pleasure?”
“I don’t know, I just feel like I need to talk to people about the independent film premiere I saw last week.”
“Well, fair enough.” Ava shook her head, the corners of her mouth turned down. “You certainly give the impression of being that kind of person.”
“What about you?” Beatrice asked suddenly.
“My guilty pleasure?”
“Yes.”
“Unlike yours, mine is actually a ‘guilty pleasure,’ um—” Ava chuckled briefly. “You want to hear it?”
“Sure.”
“Sometimes, when a conversation gets really boring or painful, I imagine the person I’m talking to is wearing a funny bathing suit. It makes the moment at least a little funnier.”
Hearing that, Beatrice involuntarily looked down at what she was wearing.
Ava burst out laughing. “Come on, talking to you is never boring. Besides, it’s usually a big-bellied cop or an angry client who’s the subject of my imagination.”
“I never thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it later when I’m really bored.” Beatrice joked, leaning back in her chair.
“You have to be careful.” Ava hummed, then looked into Beatrice’s eyes and grinned. “Because if they’re really hot, you won’t be able to concentrate on the conversation afterward.”
Beatrice met Ava’s eyes, then laughed softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Are you hungry? Shall we order some food?” Ava asked Beatrice as she entered the kitchen with some plates.
“No, not really.” Beatrice put the plates in the sink and then, as if in a flash of insight, said, “Do you want to order something?”
“Um, well, I’m not hungry yet, but maybe—” Before Ava could finish her sentence, the lights in the entire apartment suddenly went out. Looking around at the pitch-black surroundings, Ava muttered softly, “Shit.”
“I think it’s a blackout.” Beatrice’s voice came out of the darkness.
“Yes, it must be. I was just wondering what the day’s grand finale would be.” Ava carefully removed her rubber gloves and placed them in the sink. Then, looking in the direction she thought Beatrice would be, she said, “That was a joke.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” There was a hint of amusement in Beatrice’s voice.
“Well, I don’t have a flashlight, so...” Ava made her way out of the kitchen, careful not to bump into Beatrice, and looked around the house with her cell phone’s light. Entering the tiny walk-in closet between the living room and bedroom, Ava looked around at the large candles and asked aloud, “Which do you like better, ‘New Year, Same Mess’ or ‘Socially Awkward Citrus’?”
“Sorry?” Beatrice returned in a confused voice.
Ava poked her head out of the closet. She could barely make out Beatrice standing by the dining room table in the light from the window. Ava pouted (though Beatrice couldn’t see it). “Those are the scent names of the candles. If you don’t like them, we also have ‘Brunch and Bad Life Choices.’”
“Uh—” Beatrice took a few cautious steps toward Ava. “Do you have any unscented ones?”
“Boring.” Ava looked at the candle names again. “How about ‘Unpaid Intern’—doesn’t that sound moderately gloomy and demure?”
“Okay, I think that’s better.”
Ava chuckled to herself, reading the confusion in Beatrice’s voice, and took out the candle. Then she glanced at the balcony off the living room. “Why don’t we go out on the balcony? At least it’s brighter out there.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Ava walked over to the dining table and picked up the wine she’d been drinking. She turned and stopped when she realized Beatrice was standing closer than expected. Beatrice also stepped back slightly as if surprised. She smelled faintly of leather and wood. Ava reached out from the shadows and playfully grabbed Beatrice’s arm once before heading for the balcony.
As she opened the balcony door, a light breeze blew in. Ava grabbed a beige cardigan from the coat rack and pulled it over her black top. There was still a lingering warmth in the fall breeze, and the darkened city echoed with people. Beatrice joined her with a glass of wine and looked down at the streetlights, which were surprisingly on. Ava placed the candle on the side table and lit it with her lighter. The wooden wick crackled as it began to burn. Beatrice leaned back against the balcony railing and stared wordlessly at the candle.
Ava sniffed the scent of the candle and grinned at Beatrice. “What do you think? Is it what you expected it to smell like?”
Beatrice leaned in and sniffed. “It smells like coffee and paper.”
“Just the right amount of depressing and calming.”
After a short pause, Beatrice suddenly said, “I don’t usually like candles.”
“Really? Should we just put it out?” Ava looked at her.
“No, it’s okay.” Beatrice smiled and shook her head. Then, seeing Ava’s eyes on her, she shrugged. “I went to Catholic boarding school, and the candles remind me of that.”
“Oh—I know. I grew up in a similar place, and it’s not a pleasant memory.”
“It was a time of many rules and strict discipline,” Beatrice said, studying Ava’s face momentarily.
Ava smiled. “Such as?”
“Well, dress code, praying at meals, how we were supposed to respect our teachers—I can’t even remember them all now.” With that, Beatrice looked out into the night. “What made it even harder was that I had a crush on a girl there.”
Ava turned and looked out into the night. “Aha.”
“Right.” Beatrice stood beside her, leaning against the railing and looking at the streetlights.
“Were you in the same dorm?”
“Worse, we were in the same room.”
“Uh-oh.” Ava raised an eyebrow and shook her head.
Beatrice laughed a little. “My parents freaked out when they found out.”
“I guess they weren’t as supportive.”
“Not at all. In every way.”
There was silence again. It was a much more comfortable one than before. Ava tapped her fingers on the balcony railing, then broke the silence. “It was an orphanage.”
Beatrice turned her head.
“There was a big car accident, and I was the only one who survived. Nothing else was known about me or my family except that my mother was Catholic, so I was raised by nuns until I was eighteen.” Ava pouted and looked up at the faint moon obscured by clouds. She glanced at Beatrice with a grin. “Most of them were pretty nasty.”
“I see,” Beatrice replied softly.
“I wasn’t a very obedient child, so I got spanked a lot worse. Well, at least I don’t hate candles, so maybe I’m less traumatized than you,” Ava concluded jokingly.
Beatrice looked at Ava with a smile, then nodded. “Maybe.”
“Uh, what else, hmm. Oh, I’m afraid of unicorns.” Ava lifted her glass and frowned.
“Really? Why?” Beatrice’s eyes widened.
“I don’t know, they’re just so colorful, and the horns on their heads are kind of weird,” Ava said, thinking it was cute how Beatrice’s expression changed when she got a little drunk. “I had to take pictures at a unicorn-themed fashion show once, and I had a tough time that day. I didn’t know there were so many different ways to represent a unicorn. People thought I really liked the clothes because I squealed every time the models walked out.”
“Oh, I can imagine.” Beatrice chuckled and took a sip of wine.
“Well, next—your turn.” Ava held out her hand and beamed.
“Hmm.” Beatrice was lost in thought.
After studying her face for a long moment, Ava chuckled and raised her wine glass to her mouth. “Well, you don’t have to make it up if you don’t have a secret.” Ava stuck her head out and looked down at the people walking down the street. “I hope the power comes back tonight.”
Beatrice looked up at the sky. The clouds had parted in the breeze, allowing a little more moonlight to spill onto the balcony. She moved her eyes to Ava’s cheek and hesitated, then said, “You know, in the book, Julian never contacted Laura again.”
Ava turned her head. “Huh?”
Beatrice looked away briefly before returning her gaze. “Because he was a coward, as always.”
“Wait, how do you know—oh.” Ava’s eyes widened.
Beatrice smiled, glancing at the streetlight.
“Why did you use an alias?” Ava asked.
“Because I’m a coward.” Beatrice took a sip from her wine.
“What were you afraid of?”
“I don’t know.” Beatrice shrugged and shook her head. “But I was shocked when you said Julian didn’t feel like a straight man.”
“Mmm. Sometimes I wonder why my hunches are so good, too.” Ava narrowed her eyes and looked pleased. Beatrice lowered her head and chuckled. Putting her hand in her pocket, Ava asked Beatrice, “I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“Do you mind if I smoke here? I’m so excited about what you just said; I need to calm down.”
Beatrice shrugged. “Of course not.”
“You can go inside if you don’t like smelling cigarettes.”
“No, I’m fine.”
Ava pulled out a cigarette and lit it from the candle. Into the pitch black night, faint blue smoke billowed. Ava blew out a long stream of smoke and grinned. “I liked the book, by the way.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Beatrice smiled shyly and rubbed her face. Ava could tell that Beatrice only did this when she was very relaxed. Beatrice swayed slightly, then sighed. “There’s another secret I haven’t told anyone.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a character in the story based on JC.”
“What? Wait, wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess...” Ava furrowed her brow in thought, then snapped her fingers. “Hank.”
Beatrice nodded.
“I knew it! Wait, does that mean—” Ava’s eyes widened. Beatrice hummed quietly. Ava shook her head and laughed. “Does JC know?”
“He might. I gave him one copy, and he knows I wrote it.”
The two giggled together as they stared at the night sky. Then Beatrice met Ava’s eyes. Ava could read what Beatrice was thinking in her eyes for the first time. After hesitating, Beatrice said, “There have been a few times when JC and I had crushes on the same girl.”
Without a word, Ava continued to look into Beatrice’s eyes. Cigarette smoke gently tickled her hand. Finally, Ava smiled. “Am I another proof or an exception?”
Beatrice looked away and laughed. After a moment, she looked at the cigarette in Ava’s hand and asked, “May I have a try?”
Ava held the cigarette to the woman’s mouth. Just then, all the lights on the street came back on. Ava stared at Beatrice’s face in the living room light. Without breaking eye contact, Beatrice turned her head slightly and took the cigarette Ava held for her to smoke. The white smoke she exhaled rose into the night sky. They stared at each other without a word.
The cell phone started ringing. Ava flicked the ash from her cigarette, pulled out her phone, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s Camila, just a second.”
Beatrice took the cigarette Ava handed her. She watched Ava’s back as she walked into the living room. Then she turned, looked into the now-lit night, and put the cigarette back in her mouth.
“I know you don’t have any context at all, but would you mind listening to what I’ve just heard?” Ava opened the balcony door and jumped out.
Beatrice’s eyes widened slightly as she stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray.
“Lilith confessed to Camila,” Ava said, sounding incredulous.
“Oh.” Beatrice looked slightly puzzled. “That’s good news, right?”
“Of course it is, since they haven’t made any progress in almost five years.” Ava pulled the cigarette out of her pocket again and paused. “Do you want another one?”
“No, I’m good now.”
Ava lit the cigarette and pouted. “I had a feeling something was up with Lilith. I mean, she didn’t complain when the client took up her time late at night. It’s not like her at all. Well, I knew it. At least Camila didn’t lie to me. I just told her they don’t have to come here. They can spend some time alone.”
Beatrice smiled and looked at Ava who was grumbling fast. Then she noticed that her cell phone was also buzzing and pulled it out of her pocket. Checking the message, Beatrice said, “JC says his dad’s finally stabilized. He’s wondering if he should come over now.”
Ava raised her eyebrows and smiled.
Seeing her expression, Beatrice cleared her throat. “I guess it’s a little late for him to come over. Isn’t it?”
“Um, probably.”
“Would you like to order some food?”
“Sure. Of course.”