Section I, Next Section
I'm only happy when it rains
I'm only happy when it's complicated
And though I know you can't appreciate it
I'm only happy when it rains
You know I love it when the news is bad
Why it feels so good to feel so sad
I'm only happy when it rainsPour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me
Pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me
I'm only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad, sad songs
I'm only happy when it rainsI only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didn't accidentally tell you that
I'm only happy when it rains
You'll get the message by the time I'm through
When I complain about me and you
I'm only happy when it rains
* 'Only Happy When It Rains' by Garbage
Fries shifted the strap on his shoulder so it would settle more comfortably. It was awkward to carry under normal circumstances, let alone in a crowd. He looked around for his adopted sister in the sea of faces. He hadn't seen her in almost nine years, so he wasn't positive he'd recognize her. However if Storm was anything like what she used to be, he figured she would stand out in a crowd.
Storm had seen Fries as he came down the ramp towards her. He had changed a lot since she had last seen him. He had matured late so she had missed his tremendous growth spurt. But he appeared much older and maturer than his years anyway. If Elizabeth had not given her a recent photograph of him, she would never have recognized him. Though she supposed she could have gone on any of the websites about him to find photos.
Fries looked very handsome in a charcoal turtleneck with a black leather jacket over it. The ensemble accentuated his long thin figure as well as the dark, almost exotic quality about him, no doubt emphasized by the guitar strapped to his back. When his eye finally caught Storm's tall figure standing beside the kiosk, his mouth twitched in a wry smile.
Storm hadn't disappointed him. She had bright, fuchsia hair, still cut short like a pixie. Her nose sported a diamond, her lips black lipstick, her eyes lined black, her left ear lined with rings piercing the cartilage all the way to the top, her neck encased in a metal-spiked dog collar, and her shirt stated "Pissed Off B****".
She cocked her head, dismayed at his understated reaction to her carefully manufactured image. Fries put his bag down, still smiling, and the two embraced in a long hug.
When they pulled apart, she asked him not a little testily, "Why are you smirking?"
He chuckled. "You haven't changed a bit, Storm."
She didn't take it as a compliment. She was put out. She had gone for the shock factor and had failed. She supposed he would have been more shocked if she'd shown up with long, carefully hairsprayed hair, with elegant, tasteful jewelry on and wearing a prim and proper business suit.
She started to pick up his bag for him, but he said, "No, I got it. It's kind of heavy."
She looked up at him challengingly. "Are you suggesting that I'm not strong enough?"
"No," he replied, confused.
"Then don't make a comment like that."
Fries followed her to the baggage claim wondering what he'd done wrong.
After picking up his suitcases, she led him out to a tiny, rusty, old car. He raised an eyebrow at her. She explained, "It's a Anastasia's car. I've just borrowed it for today to pick you up."
"Will it make it back home?"
"It will only break down when it's the most inconvenient. I think we're safe since we aren't in a hurry to be anywhere and it's not raining."
Once they were in the car, there was an awkward silence. For all that they were legally brother and sister, they barely knew each other since Storm had left for university and Fries had started to do concerts. They didn't even keep up with each other besides the news they received from their parents.
"So... how has your career been?" Storm finally asked.
"It's going well. Very demanding, but fairly good in a competitive field."
"How are you able to take off like this?"
"Since you told me enough in advance, I didn't book any engagements for this time and those I already had I shifted or cancelled."
"You mean you can just call up somewhere like the Liverpool Philharmonic and cancel?"
"Well, I pay a fee for it since they've probably already done some billing."
"Don't you ever get nervous playing in front of people?"
"Not anymore. When I was much younger I could get nervous, but I've done it so much."
"You're sure you're okay staying at my place?"
"As long as you don't mind. I don't know how much you think I make, but I can't afford to stay somewhere else for this long."
"Okay, I was just checking. It's going to be cramped, though."
"I'll be fine."
After a long silence, Storm asked, "Did you bring the list?"
"Yeah, I had a lot of difficulty getting it from the office. They eventually had to call up Stuart Hampton to verify my request."
"How many are there?"
"43."
"Wow! You're kidding me!"
"No, because you and I went through at least 22 of those. You'll recognize most of their names. You remember Darth Maul? Or DM as we called him?"
"Vaguely, yeah."
"That was when I first came."
"They always just seemed to appear in the middle of the night very suddenly. We rarely ever knew where they came from nor why they were with us. Actually, I never figured out why you were sent to the Bennet mansion."
Fries stared out the window as he replied, "I don't remember much of my life before moving in there. But Mum says I had been in a home with a violent foster father. I don't think I got treated very well as a child in general."
"Do you know who your real parents were?"
He shook his head. "Do you?"
"Not my father, but I can remember my mother. I detest her."
"You still know her?"
"No, but she lives on in my memory somehow, and I just hate her."
"William would say it's hurtful to yourself to have that much hatred inside of you."
Storm looked at him in wonder for a few seconds. "You mean you never stopped calling him William? You didn't start calling him dad?"
Fries shrugged. "He was always just William to me."
"Do you miss them?"
"Mum and William? A lot. But they've always been there for me."
"They're so happy."
Fries grinned at her. "I know."
"You think they'll like what we're planning?"
"Definitely. They'll love it. There's never been a reunion of all the foster children she's had."
"Jane and Charles will be there, too, right?"
"I was going to ask you whether we should let them in on the secret and get them to help us plan it, or whether we should keep it a surprise for them as well."
Storm considered it for a minute. "If we're going to do this, we can't have them planning to be away that day, or plan something else for their tenth anniversary. So I guess we could tell Jane and Charles that we're planning something on their anniversary and not to let Elizabeth and William schedule anything."
"All right. We can call them tomorrow."
Storm nodded.
After a while, Fries asked her, "Was it hard for you to get away from the store this long?"
"No, Anastasia can take care of things for a little while."
"And this is her car?"
Storm nodded. "She's been my best friend since college. But she's... different from most people."
"How?" asked Fries.
"You'll see."
Storm led Fries down a flight of stairs in a rather old, run-down looking building.
"You live in the basement?"
"Yeah."
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs to unlock a large metal door. Then she slid the door upwards and stooped under it. Fries followed, having to stoop a little farther than she did. He jerked backward as his guitar caught the door. "Ow!" he muttered.
"Careful of the door," she belatedly warned him as she turned on the lights.
Her flat was one tall floor below ground level. The first thing to catch Fries' eyes was the facing wall, which sported an exquisite mural depicting a fairytale land.
"That is incredible!" he breathed, admiring the painting.
"Thank you. A friend of mine is a painter and he painted this for my 25th birthday."
The kitchen took up one corner of the room, while the opposite corner was a closed in wall. Fries could easily see the two walls had been erected recently. The odd thing about this little room in the corner was that the door was two feet off the ground, and there was a cinderblock in front of it serving as a step.
Fries looked at Storm questioningly.
"That's my bedroom of sorts. Come, I'll show you."
Fries dumped his things by the door and eyed the metal door warily, wondering if he should shut it. Storm called him away and he watched her open the raised door. He came up next to her and saw that the small room consisted of only a mattress on the floor with sheets, pillows and a feather duvet. The room was exactly the same size as the mattress. On the walls were shelves holding many books and other knick knacks, and a lamp above the pillows.
"This is where I sleep."
"Did you put this up?"
"Yeah. It cuts down on my heating bills. I just snuggle under the covers in this closed in space and I'm fine. It's much better than heating the entire floor.
Fries pulled away and looked back at the rest of the flat. The center had a sofa and two armchairs facing a television opposite the mural. And the remaining corner he presumed to be the bathroom.
"I like it," he finally said.
Storm raised her eyebrow. "Thanks," she said in a sarcastic voice. "Are you hungry?"
"Ravenous."
"Well, um, I've emptied those drawers over there for your use, and you'll be sleeping on the couch. Don't worry, it pulls out into a bed. Meanwhile, I can cook supper."
When they sat down at the small kitchen table for supper, Fries discovered to his dismay that it consisted of brown rice, lettuce, and tofu. He made polite noises when asked if he liked it, and somehow managed to swallow it all down with large swigs of the organic orange juice, which was, he admitted, the best orange juice he'd ever tasted.
"What's the plan for tomorrow?" asked Fries.
"I have to go open up the shop at eight, and you're welcome to come along."
"I'm sorry, I should know this, but what does your shop sell?"
"It's sort of an alternative shop. For people who live alternative lifestyles. We sell books, magazines, music, little items and occasionally exotic foods. Our clientele are usually consistent customers so it's become sort of a community."
"And you own it?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. I'm impressed."
"You haven't seen it yet."
"How did you get it started?"
"I saw a niche in the market, and decided I could fill it."
"I thought you majored in English."
"I did. I run a bookstore."
"What's it called?"
"Wild Iris."
"I'd like to come. I just need to find somewhere to do my practicing at sometime."
"Sure. You can take the Underground to the Royal Conservatory if you have to."
"I'm going to ask around."
"How long do you have to practice a day?"
"For now, only about four hours."
"Four hours??!!"
"It's my job. You can't become really good without a lot of effort."
"But I thought you only had to put that kind of time into the early training."
"There's always harder pieces to conquer. More music people want to hear."
Storm just shook her head in disbelief.
After a pause, Fries asked, "Do you mind if I went to bed? I'm pretty exhausted after a long day."
"Yeah, sure. I'll just read for a little while in my bedroom."
Fries helped wash the dishes and clear the supper things and then Storm helped Fries pull the sofa out into a bed. He used the bathroom and changed into his pajamas. Then he crawled under the covers, and was soon fast asleep as far as Storm could tell.
She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. A rather scary looking face glared back angrily. Storm laughed, and shook her head. She had so expected to shock him in the airport. She took a face flannel and after wetting it with warm water, began to wipe off the makeup around her eyes and on her lips. She couldn't get all of it out, but the remaining lining was attractive. Her lips still looked a little sickly grey, but she could just cover it with normal lipstick the following day. Then she took off the dog collar and tossed it into the bottom drawer along with all of the rings that had been clipped onto her ear. She looked at her reflection again and saw the more familiar face looking back, still amused at her childishness.
She started filling the basin with water, and opened the cupboard to take out the bleach. She stripped off her shirt and bra, and then proceeded to bleach her hair back to white. She had died her hair so often she had become somewhat of an expert at doing it to herself. Half an hour later, she came out of the bathroom quietly, her head wrapped in an old towel, and she turned out the lights.
Opening the raised door to her bedroom, she stepped onto the mattress and closed the door behind her. Groping in the dark, she found the lamp and turned it on. Then she ran her finger across the spines of the books on her shelves.
"Hmm, what do I feel in the mood for tonight? Fantasy? Science Fiction? Biography? Historical Fiction? How about a nice depressing book like Wuthering Heights? Or possibly a hot steamy romance novel? Harlequin or Danielle Steele?" She chuckled to herself. "Or not. I think I'm in the mood for something light, not too distracting, but short. Ah! With lots of pictures. Asterix! Break out the old comic books. Now the question becomes, which one? "Asterix and the Magic Carpet"? Or "Asterix and the Black Gold?" Or what about "Asterix and the Secret Weapon"? But maybe I should stick with "Asterix in Belgium"." Storm pouted in front of the rows of skinny comic books trying to decide which one. Finally she just closed her eyes and randomly pointed to one. "Hmm. "Asterix the Legionary". So it is."
She flopped onto her bed, pulled the covers up, and began to read and consequently chuckle occasionally. When she'd finished it, she turned out the light, made sure her alarm was set, and then slowly went to sleep.
During the night, Fries woke from hunger. He groaned and turned over, trying to get back to sleep. It didn't work. He got up and went to the bathroom, then paused for a minute to decide if it would be okay to raid Storm's fridge. His stomach decided him with a loud growl. He was a grown man and needed his sustenance, he told himself.
Fries went to the kitchen area and started rummaging around trying to find something decent to eat. In the end, the only thing he could come up with was a bowl of five grain cereal with soy milk.
It was eerie sitting alone in her apartment, with only the lights from outside on the street illuminating the large area. It was quiet but for the occasional passing of cars. He munched loudly on his snack and decided that he had to either buy his own food or to eat out somewhere else.
His hunger sated, he crawled back into his bed and was soon asleep again.
Fries was woken up by the sound of Storm fixing herself breakfast. He sat up, a little disoriented.
"Morning," she said, noticing he was awake.
"Hi," he mumbled, and then did a double take. She looked very different. Her hair was snow white to start with, she wore a long sleeved sky blue shirt with a black vest over it, and sleek, khaki trousers. All the makeup and heavy jewelry was gone. "Wow," he said. "You look good."
She smiled wryly at him and then said, "Hurry up and get dressed. I need to be there in forty-five minutes."
Fries tumbled out of bed and trotted off to the bathroom to shower and dress quickly. When he got out, he found that Storm had folded his bed away and sat on the sofa reading.
He grabbed another bowl of cereal and then said, "I'm ready."
They walked down the streets for several blocks until they came to a street that had shops along it.
Fries saw ahead of him a figure crouched down on the sidewalk looking at them. Storm sighed. She turned to Fries and said, "That's Anastasia, but I don't want you to ask her any questions nor ask any of me around her, all right? I'll answer any you have when we are alone."
Fries, confused, still acquiesced.
Storm strode up to Anastasia and then after looking at her for a minute said, "Ana, why haven't you let yourself in?"
"Uh, Stacy's put the key somewhere."
"I see." Storm opened the gate in front of the store and then unlocked the front door. "So I should ask her next time she comes by to tell you where the key is?"
"Please?" she said in a small voice.
"All right. Come on, you need to meet my adopted brother."
Ana turned to Fries who had been watching a little bewildered still by Storm's request. "Hi," she said. "I'm Ana."
"I'm Fries."
"Yes, I've heard about you for years. I can't believe I'm finally meeting you!"
"Finally?" he asked.
"Yeah. Well, Storm's been my friend since college."
"Oh, well yes, I see I could come up in the conversation occasionally."
"So, you're a concert pianist?"
"Yeah."
"That's amazing. I couldn't even imagine.... And you look so normal, too!"
Fries laughed a little self-consciously. "Well, when you have a passion for something, it's kind of natural to become good at it. I'm sure you're really good at something."
"Well, just reading. And you can't become good at reading, like you can with an instrument."
Fries didn't know how to continue being polite so he just made an agreeing noise and went inside the shop, Wild Iris.
The shop was much as Storm had described it. There was a rack of magazines, a few shelves of knickknacks, and half the store consisted of books. In the front corner was a large corner couch and two armchairs around a coffee table. Then against the side wall was a checkout counter behind which the kettle resided. Storm flipped up the counter and began to make some tea.
Ana proceeded to the back of the store to put her coat and purse away. When she came back out, Storm asked her, "What'd you do last night?"
"Don't know."
"Do you know what time you went to bed?"
"It feels like it was only a couple of hours ago. Did Stacy say anything to you?"
"Nope. But you know I don't like to pry."
"Judging by the clothes on the floor, I think she went clubbing again last night."
"Oh dear, I'm sorry."
"It's like I'm living with a roommate, except I have to clean up after all her mess," complained Ana.
"I'll have another talk with her. I don't know why she's getting so restless recently. Has anything been happening?"
"Not that I've experienced, no."
"I'll keep an eye out."
"Thanks."
Storm realized Fries was listening to their conversation and said to him, "Make yourself at home here. The couch, the books, whatever. Just don't damage anything beyond the point of salability."
Fries nodded and put his bag down in a corner so he could browse the bookstore at his leisure.
"Tea, Fries?" asked Ana.
"Yes, please."
Storm leaned on the counter and asked her coworker, "Did that shipment come in yesterday while I was gone?"
"No."
"****. I'm going to have to go call them again. I swear, if they weren't the only publisher of this literature I would tell them to **** the whole ****ing order!" Storm continued to rant and rave colorfully as she stalked to the back of the shop, slamming the Staff Only door behind her.
Ana handed Fries his tea and they both sat down on the sofa in front of the shop window. She was a tad overweight and was average height. Her hair was long and not quite straight, but not quite wavy either. It didn't suit her long face at all. She seemed uncomfortable with herself, shifting her position every now and then. Her clothes were casual- jeans and an oversized men's button-up shirt. She tried to exude the aura of one who didn't care how she looked, but didn't quite succeed.
Fries was afraid of asking her something he shouldn't, so he decided to stick with a safe topic: the weather.
"So... is the weather usually this nice at this time of year?"
Ana gazed out the window at the people going to work in the street. "This is typical, I suppose, yes. Though some years are more wet than others."
"Ah, I see."
After a long pause. "How was your flight?"
"It was satisfactory. I've never really enjoyed travelling though, which is odd since it's what I seem to do for a living."
"No one would say you travel for a living. They'd say you were a musician or a concert pianist."
"But to be one, you have to travel."
"True."
"Do you travel much?" Fries asked politely.
Ana became slightly flustered. "No no no no. I never travel much. At all. Really. No, I don't travel. Traveling... no, no, not me." She was almost mumbling incoherently at the end of this.
Thinking he had asked a forbidden question, Fries sipped his tea and wished Storm would tell her what the deal was with this girl. He tried to wrack his brains to remember what had been said of her before by his mother. He remembered Elizabeth mentioning a best friend who had also had a difficult childhood. But that was back in university.
He thought of a safe subject. "Tell me, what was Storm like in university?"
Ana laughed a little. "I have plenty of stories to tell you of our uni days. So does Stacy. Actually, Stacy's are probably the stories you want to hear, about the partying and the pubbing and all that."
"I thought Storm never drinks."
"She doesn't, good soul. But she would still go, and it's always funny to be the sober one in a drunk crowd."
"Did Storm ever have any difficulty declining drink?"
"Not much. Occasionally there would be an ******* who would bug her about it. Actually, Frank would be a f***ing j****** about it when he was drunk. But then Frank was a ****ing j****** about a lot of things."
"Whose Frank?" asked Fries, not recalling hearing about him.
Ana looked a little surprised. "Oh, you hadn't heard of him? Well then I shouldn't be the one to say anything more." Ana got up, mumbling to herself about keeping her trap shut and swearing at herself.
Fries remained on the couch in thought, sipping his tea.
Storm finally came out looking a little pissed off.
"Well?" asked Ana.
"They promised it would be here by today."
"What if it's not?"
"Then they pay for the shipping."
"What if they refuse?"
"I don't do business with them again and I tell all my other little friends in the business not to do business with them again."
"Oh," said Ana, impressed.
Storm flopped onto the sofa with her tea. She slouched into a semi-recumbent position and turned her head to look at Fries. "So, Mr. Concert Pianist. What are you going to do today?"
"Hang around here until I've found out all the secrets of this life you say you've been living. Find a place where I can practice. Find some food. The usual."
"Maybe in your life," she mumbled.
"What are you going to do?"
"What do you think? Sit here and run my shop."
"And you do that by sitting do you?" teased Fries.
"Indeed I do!" she replied with a grin. "I have minions to do the dirty work for me."
"And these minions include, Ana, Ana, and Ana?"
"Of course. With an occasional help from a lad named Fries."
"Nuh uh."
"Yuh huh."
"Nuh uh."
"Yuh huh."
"Oh pulleeze! You two have picked up brother and sister habits one day after a nine year separation!"
"It was only nine years because Mr. High and Mighty over here couldn't possibly come home for the holidays. He was in too much demand doing concerts!"
"And if Miss I Have a Life beside me here would actually come home on days other than the big holidays, maybe the man who works for his money would encounter her."
"You're saying I don't work for money??" challenged Storm.
"No, I'm not."
"That's certainly what it sounded like! Don't you think so Ana?"
"Yes it did."
"Oh, go away!" growled the grumpy Fries. "We're just arguing for the sake of arguing. We both led very active lives which unfortunately did not allow us to keep in touch."
"Exactly," said Storm with finality at Ana, who made a face like 'I didn't say anything!'
"I'm going to find somewhere to practice," announced Fries.
"Do you have a map of London?" asked Storm.
"Yes. Don't worry about me. I've lived in plenty of cities before."
"You don't have to get so ****ing sure of yourself! Chr**t!"
"I'll come back here later in the day."
"Be here by five if you can."
"Okay. Bye."
Once he had gone, Storm turned to Ana and asked, "What do you think?"
"He's really handsome."
"Yeah. And?"
"He's tall."
Storm rolled her eyes. "And?"
"He must be really talented!"
"And?" Storm continued to prompt.
"Um... he seems very nice?" Ana said, trying to figure out what Storm wanted to hear.
"Nice? Don't you want me to set you up on a date or something?"
"No! With your brother? No! What would Stacy think?"
"Stacy does whatever the **** she wants. Why shouldn't you?"
"No, I couldn't. Besides, he's probably got a girlfriend."
"Oh yeah. Hadn't thought of that. I actually don't know if he has a girlfriend."
"You don't know?!"
"Well it's not like it came up in the conversation. I didn't want him to start asking about boyfriends."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I'll find out for you then."
"No, Storm. Please."
Storm looked at her friend. Ana put on a pleading face. "I don't want you to set me up."
"Not even a hint here or there?"
"No. I don't want to get involved in anything now."
"You might be missing a big opportunity."
"I'll take my chances, thank you."
Ana walked over to the counter and booted up the computer.
"What are you doing?" asked Storm.
"I'm starting the computer."
"You're not going to play solitaire are you?"
"Why not?"
"Because you are so ****ing addicted to that! You need to stop."
"I know, but there's nothing else I'm supposed to be doing."
"I'm sure there's something."
"Anyway, I'm just starting the computer."
"Uh huh. Sure."
Fries found a nice restaurant that served steak for lunch. He filled himself up on the red meat and the chips and salad that came with it. He had found a place to practice in. It wasn't a great piano, but it was nearby and it had all its strings and hammers. It would serve for the purpose anyway. He didn't actually know how long he was going to be staying with Storm. He liked getting to know her all over again. It had often been a sad point in his life that he didn't know his own adopted sister very well at all. As soon as she had been adopted she was on her way to university to earn her English and Women Studies degrees and then her masters and finally to open a bookshop in London. He had always been proud of her, but as the years passed, they lost touch and sort of forgot they even had each other.
Then one day Storm called him up with this idea. And he had liked it because he wanted to do something special for Elizabeth and William, and he thought he needed a vacation, but most of all, because it would allow him to get to know Storm again. Maybe this time, when they went their separate ways, they would make more of an effort to stay in touch and to see each other.
Fries wandered the city for three more hours. He passed Piccadilly Circus and then walked up Shaftesbury Avenue, poking his noise in on Leicester Square. Finally he turned down Charing Cross toward the book district.
Storm looked up when Fries entered Wild Iris, his satchel of music slung across his chest.
"Oh, so you can find your way back! I was beginning to get worried."
Fries didn't dignify the remark with a reply. There were now some people in the store, so he didn't feel it appropriate to retort in public.
Sitting on the sofa was a man about Fries' age or a little older. He had dreadlocks about seven inches long and sported a thick beard and mustache of the same light red color as his hair. His left ear was pierced with a ring and his eyebrow with a bar. His clothes were well-worn and muddy, his boots having been deposited in the corner by the sofa. This intriguing figure stood up when he saw Storm address Fries. Our concert pianist had a distinct feeling of being 'checked out'. He couldn't recall a man ever checking him out before and it wasn't exactly a comfortable feeling.
Fries just stood and stared at this man until he said, "Hello. Me name's West."
"I'm Fries."
"I know."
"How so?" asked Fries.
"Well, Storm and me go a ways back and I've heard of you."
"Really?"
Fries sat down in the easy chair across from the sofa as West stretched out across it. "So you've come to stay for while, eh?"
"It's indefinite how long, exactly." Fries kept his cool façade on, not warming immediately to the naturally charming West.
"Have you met Stacy yet?"
"No, I have not. Does she work here as well?"
"She does."
"I thought it was just two people running the shop."
"Well, technically it is only two people."
Fries was confused by this, but at this point, West's attention was caught by another young man who had just walked in. This one was an Indian, extremely well dressed in a pinstripe suit, carrying a briefcase and a black umbrella. He was cleanly shaven and well groomed. Fries barely managed to contain his shock when this new gentleman and the ruffian he had been conversing with embraced, kissing each other like a married couple coming home from work.
"How was the presentation today?" asked West.
"Excellent, thank you," said his partner. "Did you move the palm tree successfully?"
"We'll see in a couple of weeks."
Storm walked up and said, "Taylor, meet my brother, Fries. Fries, this is another one of my friends, Taylor."
Fries stood and shook Taylor's hand. Again, Fries had the feeling that Taylor was doing a full body check.
Ana walked up to them carrying a tray of scones, strawberry jam, chocolate biscuits, and Cornish clotted cream. "Are you getting the tea, Storm, or shall I?"
"You go ahead, I need to ring this lady up." Storm went behind the counter and began chatting to the woman who was buying a couple of books.
Fries sat back down in the easy chair, watching what was going on around him in his usual silence. Taylor and West sat down together on the sofa, still talking about each other's day.
Ana came back with the teapot and began to pour it out. "Where are your manners, you two?" she accused West and Taylor. "You act like you haven't seen each other this morning."
"How was business today?" asked Taylor.
"A bit better with the dry weather," Ana replied. "Tea?" she asked Fries.
Fries nodded.
Finally Storm came over and pulled up a box of books to sit on beside Fries' easy chair. Fries stood up and said, "Why don't you sit here, I can stand."
Storm stayed where she was and raised her eyes at Fries.
"Uh oh. Dude you can't be a ****ing chauvinist around Storm. Especially in this holiest of places."
Fries gave West a blank look. "Excuse me?"
Ana pushed Fries back into the easy chair. "Shut up and do as your told or else you'll be sleeping on the curb tonight."
Fries did as he was told, not yet understanding what he'd done wrong.
Taylor leaned forward to Fries making him wish he could lean farther back than the chair would allow him. "You obviously have a lot to learn about the feminist ways."
"Feminist?"
"Yes, feminist," said Ana. "It's a word that's been much abused, but basically it means the equality of the sexes."
"I knew that."
"So why did you offer Storm your seat?" asked Ana.
"Because it's the polite thing to do."
"Wrong! Because it's the male chauvinist thing to do. So don't do it. Don't do anything like go out of your way to open doors for women, offer to help women just because they are female, or open the car door for a woman, or give her your jacket when she's cold... none of that."
Fries stared at West again.
"They only teach you that because it's thought that women are frail and delicate and should be taken care of," continued West.
"Which is all a load of horse ****," said Ana. "Got it?"
Fries nodded, glancing down at Storm beside him. She had an amused look on her face and she just winked at him and sipped her tea placidly.
"Do you have tea together everyday or something?" asked Fries.
"We usually gather together around 5, but the tea is just on special occasions, like your arrival."
"Oh, well thank you. It's delicious."
"Ana made them," Storm said.
Ana grinned and said, "And I made Stacy do the washing up."
"Where is Stacy?" asked Fries.
Everyone paused and looked at each other for a few moments. Storm finally cleared her throat and Fries looked at her. She glared. Oh. This must have been one of those questions he wasn't supposed to ask.
"She might join us later on," said Taylor.
Another customer came into the shop and Ana excused herself to help them.
"I thought I told you not to ask questions!" said Storm in a low voice.
"How was I to know? Everyone's talking about this Stacy."
"I'll explain it later. Just don't ask any more questions."
Fries sighed exasperatedly.
Taylor asked Fries, "What's it like being a concert pianist?"
"Pretty demanding. There's a lot of competition for the good positions and the star engagements. There's the endless practicing and travelling."
"So it's not all it's cracked up to be?" asked West.
"No. But then most jobs are like that. Being a fireman, or a spy, or a movie star- many careers have their downsides. I think I'm fortunate to do what I love for a living."
"You still love it after doing it so much?" he queried.
"It's never the same, though. There's always new places to go and new pieces and techniques to learn."
"Do you ever think you'll teach?"
"Maybe someday."
Ana came back and sat down again.
West poured her some tea.
"What do you two do?" asked Fries, hoping it was a safe question to ask.
Taylor explained, "I'm a graphic designer for a firm here in London. I head teams designing the advertising of a lot of the products you buy."
"Interesting. Are you mainly the artistic side, or also the scientific selling side as well?"
"Both essentially, though my strength is in the design."
West said, "I work at the Royal Horticultural Society. I'm a botanist."
"Isn't that work a little seasonal?" asked Fries.
"Not at all. There's work to do year round."
For half an hour the conversation seemed to flow normally. Then Taylor stood up and said, "We need to get home soon."
"Yeah. We'll close in an hour. See you tomorrow," said Storm.
"It's nice meeting you," said Fries to the two departing men.
Once West and Taylor had gone, Storm asked, "So... what did you think of them?"
"They're both interesting people. Maybe a bit of an odd couple, but they're both nice."
"Praise, indeed," Storm said sarcastically.
Ana began to clear the tea things.
"Can I help you with that?" asked Fries.
Ana looked at him challengingly. Fries hastily added, "Because it's polite?"
Ana shrugged and Fries helped to clear and wash the cups and plates. Then Fries was able to crash on the couch for an hour until the Wild Iris closed.
Ana was invited to go home with Fries and Storm for dinner so Fries had a whole evening to dread saying the wrong thing again. He wanted to catch Storm alone for a few moments to ask what it was that he was supposed to avoid screwing up exactly, but the chance never arose.
Fries sat down to another meager meal in his opinion. Spinach, baked beans, and rolls. He was glad he'd eaten a big lunch. Fries generally kept his mouth shut and listened to Storm and Ana talk about various things, mostly business related.
After the meal, Fries did the dishes while Storm walked Ana home. Why Storm would need to do this was beyond him. London was generally a safe city to walk around in before midnight.
Storm had been gone for quite a while when Fries began to wonder how far away Ana lived. Then the phone rang. Fries hesitated, not sure if he should pick it up. He decided to let the answering machine pick it up.
"Fries? Pick up, will you? Fries."
Fries picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey. I need to stay the night here at Ana's."
"Is anything wrong?"
"Nothing bad, no, but she just needs me to stay with her. Shall I see you at Wild Iris tomorrow sometime?"
"Uh, sure. Okay. You're sure everything's all right?"
"Yeah, don't worry."
"Well, would you at least tell me what's the deal with Ana and why I seem to be screwing things up?"
"I'm sorry, Fries, I can't tell you now. Ana's just in the other room. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Fine. Good night then."
"Good night."
Fries hung up and looked around the empty basement flat. What to do? Shower. Fiddle on the guitar. Read. Bed.
The next morning Fries walked into Wild Iris. The bell above the door jangled. He didn't see Storm, but Ana was on the computer at the counter. She looked different. She had on dark makeup and her hair was pulled up into two girlish pigtails. She wore a tight-fitting tank top and low cut, pink jeans.
"Morning, Ana."
"I'm Stacy."
Fries stared at her. So Ana and Stacy were twins?
Stacy looked at him. "And you are...?"
"Uh, Fries Bennet."
She looked him up and down. "So you're the infamous brother, huh?"
"I don't know what I did to get an infamous reputation, but technically I am Storm's brother."
"Yes, well, any brother who doesn't even keep in touch with his sister, must be infamous," she replied, challengingly.
"Maybe if Storm and I were a normal brother and sister, that would be the case. But I only gained her as a sister months before she left for college. We never got into the habit of being brother and sister."
Stacy continued to scrutinize him.
"Where is Storm, by the way?" asked Fries.
"She's in the back."
"Oh." Fries wasn't sure if he was allowed to go into the back room, so he decided to pick up a book and sit down to read. The trouble was finding a book to read. Wild Iris held an extensive collection of feminist books and books for alternative lifestyles. Deciding he wanted to steer clear of the alternative lifestyle ones, he looked for a feminist book he could manage. Finally he spotted one called Feminism for Men. That seemed like something he could read. He picked it up and took it to the sofa.
Stacy looked at the book he'd picked out and raised one eyebrow. "Typical."
Fries decided not to give her the satisfaction of his annoyance. He ignored her and just said, "Could you please tell Storm that I'm here?"
She didn't say anything but just got up and walked to the back of the store. Fries noticed she had bare feet. She leaned in the Staff Only doorway and said in a loud enough voice for Fries to hear, "Storm, your baby brother is here."
She waited and then came back to the front of the store saying, "She's busy."
"Thanks." Fries didn't like this Stacy girl. She seemed to hold a grudge against him for some reason. "Tell her I've gone out to practice and will be back later on today."
Stacy didn't reply, ignoring him as she typed on the computer.
Fries left, grateful to get out from Stacy's presence. He headed to his practice room and locked himself in there for three hours. When he came out, he went to have his big meal for the day.
As Fries sat at the table eating grilled chicken and potatoes, he decided he couldn't afford to keep going out to eat for every lunch just to stay well fed.
"It's a shame I can't play for my supper," he said to himself. The thought struck him. Play for his supper. There were certainly restaurants where they had pianists. All he had to do was look for one where he could play for a couple of hours in return for a meal.
As soon as he had finished his lunch, Fries surprised himself by going out to find a place that would give him a meal in return for his entertainment.
The bell jangled above the door as Fries walked into Wild Iris that evening. He'd been successful. He'd found a nice restaurant that would give him a meal after he played for two hours during lunchtime. He wasn't going to tell Storm, yet. He felt like it was an insult to her that he had to find other means of feeding himself since her cooking was so bad. Well... it wasn't necessarily her cooking that was bad, he just didn't have the same taste in foods. He needed meat, for example.
Stacy still sat behind the counter, but her pigtails had been taken down and she wore a big sweater, though it wasn't that cold in the shop. She looked up and smiled at Fries. "Hi. Where've you been?"
"Practicing."
"Oh? All day?"
"No, I had a couple of ...errands to do as well."
"Stacy, could you let Storm know I'm hear?"
"I'm Ana."
Fries stared at her. No, he could have sworn Stacy wore those pink jeans this morning. Maybe it was a coincidence and the twins both wore pink jeans today.
"Sorry. My mistake. You both look exactly alike," he said, confused.
"Of course, we look exactly alike," she replied. "Why wouldn't we?"
"You're right. Well, Ana, could you let Storm know I'm hear?"
"You can do so yourself. Just go on back. We finally got that shipment in today and she's been going through it with a fine tooth comb to make sure the idiots didn't leave anything out."
"Thanks."
Fries walked to the back of the store, and passed through the Staff Only door. It was a small office filled with files, a desk, and a sink. There was a door ajar that Fries decided was where he would find Storm. He walked through the office and slowly pushed the door open.
He saw Storm sitting amidst a sea of boxes and books with a clipboard and pen in her hand. She was muttering cusswords under her breath as she dug through the box currently her in lap.
"So Stacy and Ana are twins?" said Fries, walking in.
Storm jumped, startled, yelling, "**** you, Fries! You scared the holy **** out of me!"
Fries smiled wryly, coming to stand in front of her. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."
Storm took a deep calming breath. "What did you say?"
"I said, Stacy and Ana are twins, aren't they?"
"No, they're not."
"Part of triplets?"
"No."
"Quintuplets?"
"No, Fries. Ana and Stacy are the same person."
Silence.
"Ok, you lost me there," said Fries, sitting down on one of the boxes.
Storm sighed. "When I was in college, Anastasia was a complete loner. Then one semester we got put together as roommates and I slowly discovered she was having a major problem. She was depressed all the time, she would say words she didn't mean to, she would hallucinate, she would have trouble understanding people, and finally, I caught her attempting suicide. But it was like she wasn't always the same person. She would wake up in the morning and not know where she had been the night before, or anything about the cuts on her arms. I took her to the doctor and she was eventually diagnosed with a multiple personality disorder. Over time, the number of personalities diminished, until there were just two. We've named them Ana and Stacy to avoid confusion. Personally, I just think that Stacy beat out all the other personalities. She's unusual to have only two. With my help, she has established a reasonably stable life, the two of them coexisting peacefully most of the time. Every now and then, Stacy will get Ana into scrapes and sometimes I have to come and dig her out of them. On the whole, she has been very fortunate to find a way for them to live together."
There was a long silence as Fries reviewed his brief acquaintance with Anastasia. Things started to make sense now. Finally he let out a big breath and just said, "Wow."
"Yeah. Sorry I didn't warn you. It's sort of something we don't talk about as a disease or anything, it's just accepted and we deal with it all the time."
"West and Taylor?"
"They know. They help out sometimes, too."
"That explains a lot."
"I heard you met Stacy this morning."
"Yeah. She doesn't like me that much."
"Give her time. She's just suspicious of new people."
"Hasn't she heard of me before?"
"Yes. I never understand Stacy, though. She's unpredictable."
"What about Ana?"
"Ana is who you see. It's sort of wrong to say this, but she's the core personality. Stacy is really the split off personality from the rest of Anastasia. Does that make sense?"
"Sort of. So how am I supposed to act around her? How do I know if she's Stacy or Ana?"
"I can generally tell by looking at her. Their mannerisms are totally different. They are in all aspects but body, two very different people. They have different handwriting, they have different likes and tastes. Ana loves macaroni and cheese, Stacy hates it. Stacy is very confident, Ana is rather shy. So you'll just learn to tell by the way they dress and the way they hold themselves."
"And you'll give me hints?"
"Yeah, I'll give you hints."
Just then, Ana poked her head in the door. "Storm, where did we put that copy of Angela Davis' book?"
"Hang on, I'll come and get it."
Fries followed Storm at his leisure, picking up the book he'd chosen that morning. He plopped on the sofa. He looked around for a clock, and saw one on the wall behind the counter. It was a blank face but for the words 'Who Cares?' and the hands. At the bottom of the clock in a pile, were the numbers that usually go around the face of the clock. Typical thought Fries.
He turned to his book, not really interested in what it had to say. His mind wandered. Didn't West and Taylor come over a little after five?
He looked up and saw Ana 'not' playing solitaire. "Ana?"
She jumped and quickly did something on the computer- Fries assumed she closed the game. She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah?"
"Are West and Taylor coming over?"
"Taylor called to say he had to work late, so we're meeting at The Cambridge."
"I see. What time?"
"When we close at seven."
"Look, I'm sorry about the mixup earlier. You know, calling you Stacy."
Ana seemed to become uncomfortable. "Don't worry about it. You wouldn't have known."
"If it's any consolation, I called Stacy Ana this morning. I don't think she likes me."
"I'm not surprised."
Fries decided she didn't like talking about it and went back to his book.
Two hours later, Fries, Storm, Ana, West, and Taylor sat at a table in The Cambridge. West, Taylor, and Ana each had a beer, while Fries and Storm had a soft drink. The conversation was lively and easy.
"Are you going to take him to Mouse in My Soup Poetry?" asked West.
"What?" said Fries.
Storm started to laugh heartily.
"Mouse in My Soup Poetry," repeated West with a very serious face.
"What is that?" asked Fries.
Ana took pity on him. Still smiling, she explained, "It's just a gathering of amateur poets who recite their poems on an open mic."
"What's an open mic?"
"You don't know what an open mic is?" said Taylor, a little disbelieving.
Fries shook his head.
"It just means you don't have to be scheduled or anything. It's just whoever wants to can--first come, first serve."
Storm was still giggling in the corner next to him, so Fries asked the others, "If that's all it is, then why is she laughing?"
Her laughter was infectious, making him start to laugh as well. It started off slow and then gathered strength as he watched Storm laugh. As soon as Fries started to laugh, the others couldn't help joining in.
By the time Fries had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard, and Taylor had a cramp in his side, Storm had calmed down enough to explain.
"I don't know why I was laughing really," she said as the others calmed down, their cheek muscles aching. "I just couldn't help thinking of Fries' reaction to some of the 'poets'."
"Why, what's wrong with them?"
Storm began to chuckle a little bit. "Let's just say they're a bit melodramatic at times, and the poetry isn't all that great. But the funniest part is to see these people sitting around drinking tea, nodding and agreeing seriously in adoration at the poems, as if it were great literature."
"That's what you're laughing at?" asked West a little skeptically.
"You just have to see it to understand."
Fries just shrugged and took a sip of his drink.
Taylor suddenly announced, "Hypothetical!"
"Ooh yay!" cried Ana.
"Who is this one for?" asked Storm.
"Well, it can be for all of you, but I'd like to know what you girls think, first."
"Okay," she said, scooting forward in her seat and leaning her elbows on the table in anticipation.
Confused, Fries turned his attention to Taylor.
"You're in a public internet café, and there's a guy sitting next to you looking at porno, and you can see it quite clearly at the corner of your eye. What do you do?"
Storm leaned back. "That's a tough one." She sat thinking in silence, then looked at Ana.
Ana shrugged. "I want to say I would call him on it, but knowing me, I wouldn't get up the courage."
Storm asked, "How old is he?"
"Two hypotheticals, then. One is that he's a second year student at uni, and the other is that he's a 35 year old man."
"I'd like to say I would deliver the student a slap in the face and tell him not to do it again--fully knowing he would--and to the man, I would stalk him until I found his wife and then I would tell her about it."
West interrupted, "What if the wife knows her husband looks at porno?"
"Then I would give her one of my feminist books about the objectification of women's bodies so she could learn how damaging it is to her that he does this."
"Storm, what would you really do if this happened, though?" challenged Taylor.
"I think..." she paused. "I think in reality, I would 'accidentally' turn off his computer."
Ana grinned. "That's really good! I don't know what I would do. Probably just move away to another computer. Maybe give him dirty looks?"
West chuckled. "We all know what Stacy would do!"
Storm snorted. "Probably knee him in the groin or something along those lines."
Taylor then asked, "What would you boys do?"
Fries suddenly found himself the centre of attention. "Uh... um... ask him first," he finally said, pointing at West.
"No, no," said West. "I insist that, as the newcomer, you should go first."
Fries shrank as far as he could in his seat, feeling the pressure. "I don't know. I'm afraid I wouldn't do anything."
"Naw, you can't do nothing!" said West.
"Well what would you do?" retorted Fries, feeling way out of his league.
"I'd tell the man he should do that in private."
This produced outrage. "What??" shouted Storm.
"Ugh, no ****ing way!" exclaimed Ana.
Fries chuckled at the look on West's face. Wrong answer! Fries sang in his head.
Storm argued, "If you tell him to do it in private, that just lets him think it's okay to look at porno, just not in public. It's wrong to do it anywhere! It's objectifying women's bodies, making them property to be stared at, not people!"
West argued back, to Fries' surprise. If he had been West, he would have da** well kept his trap shut.
"But women look at male porno, too!"
"Women can't rape men like men do women. Men can never feel what it's like to walk the streets in fear, and have men whistle at them and make catcalls. It's not the same."
"That's a lousy answer!"
"Is it?" West was treading on dangerous territory here. Storm was beginning to really get into the argument.
Fries wanted to warn West, to tell him Back off! She's taking this personally! when suddenly West grinned and said, "I know, Storm. I'm just getting you all worked up."
Storm's face cleared almost immediately into a sheepish grin. She gave a short laugh. "Yeah, I was getting into it, wasn't I?"
"Just a bit," came Taylor's sarcastic reply.
"But that's what hypotheticals are for, right?" she said defensively. "To learn and to argue."
"Exactly. Which brings us to the point of Fries."
Panic. Fries realized he hadn't gotten away so easily.
"I saw how you shirked the question."
"I didn't shirk," replied Fries. "I merely answered honestly. No matter what my opinions are, I could never see myself taking any action over it in that situation. Just like Ana, I do not have a confrontational nature."
"And I do?" asked Storm.
Fries looked at her. "Of course you do," he said matter-of-factly.
Taylor glared at Storm as if to say 'I told you so!'
"That settles that," said West.
Ana piped up, "I have a hypothetical for Fries then."
Everyone stopped talking and turned their attention to her. She looked at Fries and said, "You're cutting an apple and you cut your finger. Not severely, but enough that it bleeds for a while and you need a bandage for a few days. What do you do when you're supposed to perform?"
This was easy. "I play. It would make it uncomfortable, but you learn to push past it. It's just like an athlete with a sore ankle or wrist or something. You see gymnasts all the time with bandaged ankles and stuff. Once something like that did happen to me, and I was literally bleeding all over the keys. It hurt quite a bit, but the biggest problem was how it made the keys slippery. Between the pieces, I would try and wipe some of it off with my handkerchief. No one in the audience noticed, though."
"You're serious?" asked Storm.
"Yes, quite," replied Fries, seriously.
"Wow. So what do you do when you're ill?"
"If I can't play, then I just have to call and cancel or postpone which costs me money actually. Usually, at all costs I do play."
"I never thought that kind of life would actually be grueling," said Ana.
"What about me?" protested the indignant West. "I slave all day in the sun and rain year round. I work with the earth, I do!"
They all laughed at him. "You enjoy what you do, though," said Taylor.
"I thought you were on my side?"
"Why would you think that? I'm just arguing with you for the sake of arguing. You should know about that."
"Well in that case, Fries does what he enjoys, too."
Fries started to get more into the debate. "Do you travel eighteen hours straight on a plane, get off and do three concerts in two days? Each two and half hours long?"
West leaned forward and returned, "Do you get poison ivy and stinging nettles on your body?"
"Do you have to sit at a piano for four hours a day until your back aches and your fingers go numb?"
"Do you have to be on your hands and knees pulling weeds in the cold frost of predawn until your knees are permanently red, your back aches, and your fingers go numb?"
"Do you ever have judges watching your every move and listening to your every note to decide the fate of your career?"
"Have you ever watched a garden you worked on for five years get ruined by a flood?"
"Do you have to keep your finger nails clipped to the skin just so they won't be heard clacking on the keys?"
"Do you have dirt constantly under the nails that are left after having them pulled off when transplanting?"
Fries was beginning to run out of complaints. "Do you travel the world like a shiftless gypsy with no home or roots?"
"Do you get sunburn from working in the orchards for ten hours, climbing 20 feet up to do the pruning?"
"Have you ever been separated for two months from your girlfriend--well, boyfriend in your case--by your career?"
"Have you ever had to memorize 468 botanical terms in two nights?"
"Have you ever..." he couldn't think of anything. "Do you..."
"Three!..." shouted Taylor. "Two..."
"Wait!" interrupted Fries. "Have you ever felt the mortification of messing up in front of an audience of three thousand?"
"Have you ever had a pitchfork go through your leg? Have you ever had ticks in your beard? Have you ever had leeches in your underwear?"
"Sh**!" said Fries, realizing he was beaten.
"Three!..." again Taylor shouted. "Two... One... And West is the winner!"
Taylor, Storm and Ana erupted into cheers, clapping, and laughter as West stood up to bow several times. Then he reached across the table and shook Fries' hand in good humour.
"That was marvelous!" gushed Ana as West sat back down.
Fries felt the adrenaline rush begin to die out. He had enjoyed it, to his surprise.
Taylor kissed West and said, "I'll buy my love a drink for that one."
Everyone got a second round of drinks and settled down for another one.
"I have a hypothetical," said Storm. "It's for everyone. You have a coworker who can't seem to do his or her work because they are constantly playing solitaire."
Everyone laughed, including Ana.
"Fire her," said Taylor.
"Yep, definitely. I'd say fire her," agreed West, toasting Ana as he said it.
"I think you should get her some kind of counseling," said Ana.
"Darling," said Storm, leaning forward with a grin on her face. "They don't have treatment for people like you!"
Suddenly the table went quiet and Storm realized almost as soon as it was out of her mouth what she had said. Flustered, she said, "I mean for people addicted to solitaire."
Everyone understood, but at the same time, the comment had taken the wind out of everyone's sails. There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Fries sensed Storm was very upset, her lip beginning to quiver. Slowly, underneath the table, he reached over and patted her knee comfortingly.
Then Taylor said, "It's getting late. We should probably go home. Come on, Ana, we'll walk you home. You and Storm have to get up early tomorrow, still."
Ana stood up and picked up her jacket. Taylor and West joined her. Storm stared into her drink.
"Good night," said West.
"Good night, you three. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow."
They left, and Fries remained with a morose Storm. He looked at her for a few moments.
"I should have known. I should have thought before I opened my big mouth."
"Don't be too hard on yourself. Slip-ups happen. It'll soon pass."
"No it won't. You'll see. Somehow Stacy will find out and then she'll go on and on about it for days!"
"How many times have I screwed up my first two days here?"
"But you didn't know."
Fries couldn't keep being optimistic. "Let's eat here, shall we?" he said instead.
Fries ordered Storm a stuffed jacket potato and for himself, he ordered chicken pot pie.
When they had their food, Fries asked, "So... is there no cure for it?"
"There is, sort of, but the drugs have side effects she doesn't like to deal with."
"That's it? The side effects are worse than not knowing where she's been the past six hours?"
"She just doesn't like relying on drugs, so she's learned to cope with it."
"Cope?"
"Yeah. You haven't really seen it all. She's got a whole system down. There's a calendar and a planner where she writes everything down so she won't miss engagements because Stacy was told. I'll often keep track of her and make sure she remembers things. She has her Ana signature as well as an Anastasia signature for official stuff, and the two of them have managed to make the signatures look close enough to pass inspection. She's become adept at faking it when she meets someone who met Stacy instead. So, yeah, she's learned to cope pretty well I'd say."
"You speak of them as if Stacy was the secondary one."
"I know, and I shouldn't. But Stacy is the domineering one, and I don't like her as much. So I tend to prefer Ana too much."
"Do you and Stacy get along, though?"
"Yeah, we do. We just fight when if it was Ana, we wouldn't be fighting."
"Do you two stay friends because you feel like you have to take care of her, or are you honestly friends with her?"
"I think I wouldn't be able to stand it if I weren't such good friends with her. She's been there for me when I needed it. They both have." Storm smiled in remembrance. "Stacy was so sweet when she threatened to beat him up."
"Who?" asked Fries gently.
"Just some ******* I once knew. Are you ready to go?"
Fries nodded and they got up to walk home. As they walked, Fries asked her, "Do you guys always walk her home?"
"Yeah. There's a possibility she'll change and then she'd be in a tight situation."
"Has it ever happened before?"
"Yeah, once, but nothing too awful happened. She doesn't live too far away, so it's not that big a deal to make sure she gets home safely and to make sure she takes care of herself." There was a long pause. Then Storm asked him, "How did your day go?"
"Well... I ate you out of house and home for breakfast."
"Did you now? That's sweet! I needed my fridge clearing out."
Fries flashed her dashing smile. "And then I got the cold shoulder from Stacy."
"Uh huh, then what?"
"And then I practiced for four hours, had lunch, and then went to the National Art Gallery in Trafalgar Square before I went to Wild Iris and scared the holy sh** out of you, as you so charmingly put it."
"Where'd you eat lunch?" she asked.
"Some pub," he lied. "I don't remember what it was called."
"I'm sorry, I hadn't known. I wouldn't have suggested a pub this evening then."
"Don't worry about it. They're all different anyway. I had a lot of fun this evening."
"You sound surprised about that."
"Well I was. I won't hide the fact that I'm used to a very different set of people."
"You never tell me about your life. You mentioned a girlfriend in your battle with West."
"Yeah. Her name is Jane Faraday."
"Fries! I can't believe you have a girlfriend and you haven't told me or even mentioned her!"
"Well, it never came up I guess."
"That is so typical of men!"
"No, I wouldn't say that."
The truth was, he hadn't thought about Jane much since he had left. He was almost certain this wasn't a good thing for a relationship.
To change the subject he asked, "When are we going to start on our project?"
"I've been trying to figure out how to go from here."
"We have the date, right?"
"Yes."
"But we need to make sure that Mum and William are free."
"Yeah."
"So we should figure out how to do that. Whether we should tell Jane and Charles, and how much do we tell them."
"I got it. Okay, how about if we play the two couples off each other?"
"Like how?"
Storm opened the door to the building and said as they walked down the stairs, "We talk to Jane and Charles and tell them we have something planned for William and Elizabeth's anniversary. We ask Jane and Charles to prevent them from doing anything on the date, but to make sure they don't find out about it nor suspect anything."
"So how do we make sure Jane and Charles don't plan a cruise or something on their anniversary."
Storm pulled up the metal door and ducked under it. She slung her small backpack on the kitchen table and said as she got a drink, "Well then we talk to William and Elizabeth and we tell them the same thing about Jane and Charles."
"You don't think they'll suspect something after a while?"
"They might, but I'm gambling on their not talking together that often."
"Seems okay to me."
"All right. You talk to William and Elizabeth, and I'll do Jane and Charles."
"Wouldn't it be better if one of us did both of them so we don't get our stories mixed up?"
"Fine. You talk to all of them. Just don't screw up."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, mocking her with a salute.
They sat down together on the couch. Fries leaned over to the side and pulled out his guitar. He rested it on his thigh and began to tune it. How he did this was completely a mystery to Storm. Then he began to softly strum chords in a lovely procession. Storm slouched until she was buried into the pillows comfortably. For several minutes she just listened.
Fries paused and said, "We need an insider."
"Excuse me?" said Storm, interrupted from her reverie.
"We need a spy in the Bennet Mansion to tell us all the children there now and who leave before the anniversary. And that spy should enable us to make sure that even the most recent children are included in the gala."
"Okay," she said lazily. "You get on that, too."
Fries smiled at her and went back to his guitar. This time he played a soothing classical piece he had recently memorized. When he'd finished and began to experiment with some minor augmented chords, Storm said in a soft voice, "You're really good."
"Yeah, so?"
"I didn't know you were any good at guitar as well."
"I picked it up a little after I started piano, and I've just slowly been improving while I rapidly improved my piano playing."
"You should get out and perform some guitar, too."
Fries shook his head, laughing. "Oh, no. You obviously have no conception how good the guitarists can get."
"Maybe I don't, but you can still perform in other venues, like cafés or bookshops and things."
Fries began to feel guilty about not telling her he was playing in a restaurant everyday for a good meal.
"Someday I will."
She went quiet for a while. He continued to fiddle with the guitar, playing small bits of pieces he remembered. Then Storm asked him, "Do you know jazz?"
"Not well, no."
"You should learn. You're missing a whole experience. Don't they teach you real soul-living music in that institution?"
"No, they didn't."
"Oh yeah. That's right. You're out now, aren't you?"
"Good and gone."
She was beginning to fall asleep. The guitar had a soporific effect on her.
"Hadn't you better get to bed?" he asked.
"Hmm hmm," she said, not moving an inch.
Fries shrugged and went back to his playing. Ten minutes later when he felt himself getting tired, he found Storm had completely fallen asleep. Sighing, Fries put his guitar away, and looked down at the sleeping girl. Woman, he corrected himself. She was nearly 28. He bent down and gently scooped her up into his arms. She was lighter than he'd expected for such a tall figure. Then he walked over to her bedroom, managed to climb the steps, and then almost dropped her while trying to open the door. Then he stepped down onto the mattress and laid her down under the covers. After pulling them up to her chin, he retreated, closing the door gently behind him.