Episode 12 (4.3)
November 3, 2008 04:16 PM
Besides an elderly couple in a corner, the restaurant was mostly abandoned save for Isabel and Julio. Between them sat a bottle of red and two untouched glasses. Isabel was busy with taking in the atmosphere of this small restaurant that she had so frequented when she was child. With a plastered grin, she ate in her surroundings. Julio sat in his seat, contemplatively watching her. “I, you don’t understand, this was my father and I’s place. It was where we could escape when I was feeling down or when I had been fighting with my siblings.”
“When was the last time you were here?”
Isabel thought back, “It had to be a year before he,” she paused, “passed away. He was sick, so I came home from school to take him to the doctors. The chemo was pretty rough at that point. He didn’t really have the energy to drive,” she explained to an appreciative audience. “Mom was struggling to make ends meet and couldn’t afford to keep taking off days. I was close and I had a license, so I volunteered to take him there on Wednesdays. On the way home, we would stop off here. I think he liked that, feeling normal again.” As she spoke, Isabels’ voice began to crack with emotion. She took a napkin and dabbed at her eyes.
Julio reached across and gently touched her hand, “I didn’t mean to make you upset, if you wanted to go somewhere else.”
“No, no, this is,” She motioned around her, “This is perfect. I avoided coming here alone, but I think I’ll be fine with someone else.” She felt herself drawn to Julio, which pleasantly surprised her. “It’s perfect.”
* * *
Tucker hesitantly opened the door to the room. Lee lay on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling; “Misery Inc.” played from the speakers on his computer. As Tucker stepped into the room, Lee didn’t stir at all. Tucker swallowed his pride and spoke, “Look, I really want to apologize.” Nothing. “I know what I did was kind of dumb. In retrospect, it wasn’t even all that funny.” Nothing. “So how much does this paper affect your future?”
Lee’s head turned to him, “This internship this summer was with the government. Having it on my resume would have put me in the running to secure another internship next year with one of the leading scientific researchers in this country. With these two things on my resume, I would have been set at graduation.” He returned to staring at the ceiling. “Now it doesn’t matter.”
Tucker slumped into a chair. “There has to be something that I could do.”
“Don’t you think you’ve already done enough?”
* * *
“I have to admit, the food here is superb.” Julio accompanied his comment with a large bite of pasta.
“It’s one of those nice little secrets in Freeboro.” Isabel took a sip from her wine glass; from over the rim she noticed that Julio was staring at her. She felt slightly self-conscious and found herself directing her gaze at the chicken on her plate.
“So Isabel, I would like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”
She looked up, a brow raised, “What type of questions?”
“I just want to get to know you a little more. I’m fair game for anything you’d like to know yourself.”
She smiled, “Ok, where would you like to start?”
“Well I’ve met your mother. Who else in the family should I know?”
“The correct answer would be none of them.” She got a laugh from him. Isabel began running through her family members, counting them off on her fingers as she did. “Well, you’ve met my mother Jillian, who can be,” She thought of the right word, “protective sometimes. Then there’s my older brother Jason. He’s started work at the High School this year. I have my younger brother Allan, who’s currently enrolled at college and has gone Greek. And, finally we have a little sister, Alicia. She’s a senior in high school.”
“So you come from a big family,” Julio smirked.
“You could say that. It actually was nice growing up. We came in pairs, kinda, so each of us at least had someone to turn to. I think it also gave mom a nice break between me and Allan. What about you, Julio? Do you have any family?”
“My family is actually back in Chile. My parents moved back home when I was six years old. I have citizenship in this country so when I turned eighteen, I knew that I would rather come here to go to college. Except, well, college didn’t really work out so after my brother moved to the states, we got an apartment together.”
“So what do you do?”
“We actually started our own consulting business.” As the two spoke, they continued to toy with their food. A waiter walked up and filled their water glasses; Isabel nodded a thanks.
“So tell me Isabel, how is it a beautiful woman like you is single? Is there a boyfriend waiting in the wings that I should know about?” Isabel nearly chocked on a piece of chicken at that question.
* * *
Misha stood before the large doors that announced “Cheyanne Modeling.” She raised her hand to knock, then pulled back. “You can do this, Misha Bower.” She bunched up her shoulders, gathered the shawl she’d thrown around her neck, and threw open the doors, launching herself into the room. Heads turned at her entrance; she stood in the foyer of the building, as glamorous as she could have made herself in a few hours time.
A bored receptionist cocked an eyebrow; two elderly women looked on from their magazines; a young boy’s gum popped in his mouth, while his mother gave her the stink-eye. Misha slowly surveyed the waiting room, taking in each person, every sight. A fountain was in the corner, a sign reading to be careful of spills. Faded magazine covers were displayed on the walls, models smiling through the dusty glass. The chairs that lined both sides of the foyer were remnants of an old movie theater; their red fabric faded and torn in places. The receptionist’s desk was the only piece of modern furniture in the room; it looked as uninviting as the woman sitting behind it.
Misha marched forward and stood before the 40-something year old receptionist. “My name is Misha Bower, I believe that I have an appointment.” The woman slowly opened up the reception book and began lazily thumbing through it. When she finally came across Misha’s name, she spoke with a deep, nasally voice.
“Yeah, I have you in here. You can take a seat.”
Misha glanced at the seats on the wall. “Where?”
The receptionist seemed confused by her question, “Over there.” She motioned to the people already sitting in the chairs.
Misha scrunched her nose, but went over to sit down beside the boy and his mother. She tried to elegantly slide into her seat, but it gave way and she collapsed into it. The mother stifled a laugh; the boy stared at her. Misha tried to ignore his look, but eventually turned. “Excuse me, but do you have a problem?” The mother looked aghast, but said nothing.
The boy was too naive to understand her tartness. “You are dressed really pretty.”
Misha accepted the compliment, despite its source. “Well thank you.”
“You look like a woman from a movie.”
She blushed slightly, “What movie?”
“Pretty Woman!” The boy responded joyfully.
Misha face dropped and rage began to boil inside her. She missed the first two times the receptionist called her name, but on the third she rounded and hissed, “What!”
The receptionist nearly fell from her seat. “Mr. Saul is ready to see you.”
Misha gathered up her shawl and struggled to rise from her seat. She fought with a screw that caught her dress, pulling and tugging until an audible rip was heard. Fuming, Misha grabbed at the fabric and marched up to the receptionist, who pointed down a small hallway. Misha ignored the giggles of the elderly ladies as she marched towards her destiny.
* * *
The car ride back to Freeboro had been uneventful. Tyke was driving and holding a one-sided conversation with Allan, who only grunted every now and then in response. Jackson and Nicki sat in the back, the army folder sitting in between them. Nicki reached over and squeezed her brother’s hand.
“Hey, this is going to work.”
Jackson shook his head, “So you say. What if Mom and Dad decide that me going to the army is the best thing for me? When I come out and tell them it was a lie, they are going to skin me.”
“You couldn’t tell them it’s a lie,” Nicki grew graven. “You’d have to go.”
“What?!”
“I’m kidding,” She teased. “Jackson, there’s no way that our parents would ever want you joining the army. They were nervous about us going to college, Jack. If you were all like ‘I’m off to go fight overseas’, I think they might go absolutely nuts.”
Jackson thumbed the folder, “So the army, huh?”
Nicki smirked, “You wanted to be all that you could be.”
* * *
“Is there a boyfriend that I should know about?”
Isabel coughed and nearly spat out the piece of chicken she’d been eating. Recovering, she waved her napkin in front of her face. “You really tasted the pepper on that one.” Julio smiled, but she could tell that he was wondering why she was avoiding the question. “Boyfriend? No, I’m single right now. No boyfriend in sight.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie to not mention Tim, but she still had trouble actually meeting Julio’s eyes.
“That’s good,” He smiled, “I would hate to think I’d have to compete with someone for your affections. I would grow too jealous.” Isabel smiled weakly.
* * *
Lee sat deleting all the repeated examples of “penis” that appeared throughout his paper. As he continued clicking, Tucker threw open the door. “Lee!” Lee grunted a response. “I figured out how we are going to solve our problem.”
Flatly, Lee replied, “Oh, did you.”
“I have the whole plan set into motion in my head. Does your professor have Saturday hours?” Tucker excitedly began pacing around the room.
Lee bitterly watched him, annoyance drowning out any curiosity, “Yes.”
“Then this is going to work out brilliantly.” Tucker leaned over and went to print. “Wait, did you delete all my additions.”
“That I could see,” muttered Lee. “Wait, what is going to work? It’s already too late, the due date was this afternoon.”
“I know, that’s where the brilliant part of my plan comes in. We are going to steal your bad paper and replace it with a new one!” Lee didn’t have a response to Tucker’s announcement.
* * *
Isaac Saul, the thin man with glasses, was sitting behind his small desk when Misha threw open the door. His office was plain; a small plant took up one corner, a bookcase filled with binders in another. The desk and two leather chairs were the only only other furniture in the wood panel lined room. “Miss Bower, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I was hoping that you would accept my offer.” He graciously motioned to the empty seat before his desk. “Please.”
She sat down and immediately began examining her torn dress; “Your chair damaged my dress.”
Isaac responded, with a hint of nervousness in his voice, “Was it terribly expensive? We can try to get that fixed.”
Misha lowered her dress and regarded him, darkly. “So, I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I’m sorry?” Isaac nervously twiddled his thumbs.
“I think we are meeting under a false pretense.” She sat up straight in her chair, folding one leg over the other. She let the sheath fall off her shoulders slightly and her hair to hang down. “You came to me saying that you wanted me to model,”
“Which I do!” Isaac insisted.
“Really? Along with two grandma’s and a little brat?” Misha flicked her hand in the general direction of the foyer she had exited.
“No, no,” Isaac thrust open a door and began digging in it; he produced a small pamphlet and handed it to Misha. She began flicking through it with disinterest.
“This is?”
Isaac tried to contain his enthusiasm, “A modeling competition!”
“Yes, and?”
“For years, Cheyanne has been doing mostly small commercials. We’ve focused on local advertising really. But when I was young, my father had one of the most sought after stable of models in the business!” Isaac rose, excitedly. “My goal is to regain that title, to transform dad’s business into something to be proud of once more. That’s where you come in, Miss Bower! I want you to represent Cheyanne Modeling Agency in this competition. I think with you as our spokesmodel, we can attain at least third prize.”
Misha stood up with sudden anger. Isaac startled, wondered what he’d said wrong. “Mr. Saul, if we are going to do this, then I want you to know one thing. I accept nothing but first place.”
* * *
They stood outside the doorway. “I would like to see you again,” Julio pushed aside a strand of her hair as he spoke.
“I think I would like that too.”
“Good, then when I talk to you tomorrow we’ll make plans. Until then,” Julio leaned in and kissed her. Isabel responded immediately, pleasantly surprised to find the earnest desire building with her towards this man. They remained locked for sometime, before finally breaking away. Julio stared into her eyes for a second, then pulled back. “I hope that will keep me in your thoughts.”
“I think it may help.” Julio walked away to his car. As he went to get in, he turned and gave a wave to Isabel. From her place at the porch, she gave a small wave back. As he drove off, she wrapped her arms around herself and collapsed into the porch swing. As it rocked gently back and forth, Isabel sat staring up at the stars, happy and content.
Posted at 11/03/2008 by beck | Comments? (0)