Perfunctory Affection

by Kim Harrison

  “Why not,” she said glumly as she stood and pushed off the fountain’s wall. They hadn’t even discussed where to take Haley and Rorry yet. Well, they had, but they’d not come to any decisions. Just as well. It looked as if she wasn’t coming.

  “Oh, don’t be like that,” Austin said with a playful sourness. “We can walk around the quad, eat popcorn, and see what the freshmen are drinking this year. You know, like we used to do.”

  “Sounds good. No, I’ll get it,” she said as she caught the eye of the vendor and motioned for two bags. Eyebrows high, Austin hesitated in his reach for his wallet and settled back even as the vendor angled toward them. She couldn’t bear seeing Austin’s hand twisted up when he counted out change.

  “No extra butter. Thanks,” she said, fighting a not- unexpected nervousness as the vendor scooped two bags of steaming popcorn. As disappointed as she was that Haley was a no-show, a sense of relief was filling her. She should have known someone as perfect as Haley would find something better to do on a Friday night, and someone more exciting to do it with.

  Austin waited on the fountain’s wall, his legs stretched out as Meg shuffled through her purse to find a fiver. “If she shows, she can have my popcorn,” he said as she paid the man and took the two bags.

  “You don’t think she’s going to show,” she said as the vendor shoved the bill in his pocket and pushed his cart into motion, headed for the freshman mixer just now starting on the far end of the quad.

  Austin shrugged as she handed him one of the warm bags and, she sat beside him, her eyes on the darkening quad. The scent of hot butter bathed her face to remind her of how she and Austin had met. “You said seven thirty.” Head tilted back, Austin dropped a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “It’s almost eight. By campus standards, the class has been canceled.”

  Grimacing, Meg watched the vendor vanish into the darkness following the sound of laughter and a steady beat. “I’m willing to float her a few more minutes.” But the popcorn smelled wonderful, and she took a wad, deciding it was as good a dinner as anything. The salt and butter woke up her appetite, and she sat back against the cold stone, depressed.

  Haley had stood her up. But at least Austin was here, reminding her that this one sucky person did not mean she was friendless. Mood sour, she ate another kernel. “Thanks for coming out here with me,” she said softly. “I miss you.” She swallowed hard, feeling exposed as she added, “Why don’t you move back in?”

  “I will.” His head was down over his popcorn. “Soon, I hope. Dr. Jillium thinks I’ve become a crutch. That I’m keeping you from moving forward.”

  “Dr. J?” Meg stiffened, anger creeping out from the cracks of her vulnerability. He had talked to her therapist? About her? Grip on her popcorn tightening, she turned to him. “Is that why you moved out and left all your stuff? Because Dr. J told you to?”

  Austin stared at her, lips open and eyes wide in alarm. “No! Yes? Sort of?” he finished, tone coaxing. “We talked last week when she started you on that trial level of your new med.”

  Meg warmed, angry as she stood. She had entertained the thought that Austin had become a crutch as well. But now she wasn’t sure if it had been her idea or her psychiatrist’s. “You called Dr. J?” she accused hotly. “Austin, she’s my therapist.”

  Her voice had gotten loud, and Austin pulled his gaze back from the quad, his worry that someone might overhear them obvious. “Well, who else would I talk to about you? You never tell me anything.”

  Flushed, Meg dropped back a step. Betrayal was hot in her. Austin and Dr. J both. “I can’t believe you talked to my therapist,” she accused. “Without me in the room. Behind my back.”

  “Meg…” Austin tried to pull her close, and she took another step away, furious. “It wasn’t behind your back,” he coaxed as he stood, his brow furrowed. “Come on, Meg. I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. She called me. She wanted to know if I’d seen any of the side effects of that new drug she started you on, knowing how badly you wanted it and how easy it would be to fudge your answers. I asked how you were doing, and she said I was making it too easy for you.”

  “Easy?” Meg exclaimed, and Austin glanced at the trio of students crossing the park, his lips pressing into an angry line when they clearly heard her and began to laugh nervously. “You think this has been easy? My life is two steps to the right of hell, Austin. I have to fight every day to just manage what you take for granted. This isn’t in my head!” she shouted, gesturing. “It’s real. It’s a struggle. You don’t think I want to be able to drive to the mall without feeling as if I’m having a heart attack? Go out and catch a movie without freaking out? Have dinner without worrying that some nameless bad thing is going to happen? I’m glad you moved out. It saved me the effort of asking you to leave!”

  Eyes narrowed, Austin took her elbow, his fingers curled and pinching. “Meg, I love you,” he said tightly. “I only asked how you were doing.”

  “How I’m doing?” She tugged out of his grip. “Right now I’m mad as hell. If you wanted to know how I was doing, you should have asked me. Not made plans to move out because you thought it would be good for me.” They had treated her like a child. A child!

  “Okay, you’re right.” Austin’s anger was easy to see, his jaw set tight. “I’m sorry.”

  But she couldn’t tell if he meant it, or if he was only saying it to get her to shut up, and it only made her more angry.

  “But Dr. J is right,” he said, deciding it for her. “I’m a crutch.”

  “Yeah? Well maybe you should go, then,” she snapped, arm wrapped around her middle.

  “Maybe I will.” He stared at her, an unfathomable thought making his shoulders stiff. “Enjoy your popcorn with your new friend,” he finally said, and turning, he began to walk away, his limp painfully obvious. With a stiff motion, he threw his bag of popcorn in the trash in passing. Some of it spilled, and that scruffy dog came out of hiding and began to scarf it down, his tail tucked and his ears low.

  “I will!” she shouted at his retreating back, but he never turned, never slowed. A surge of panic threatened, and Meg shoved it down, burying it in anger. He’d moved out because Dr. J told him it would force her to find a new level of confidence. Well, she was confident that she was pissed at both of them, and arm still around her middle, she sat at the fountain beside her purse. Head up, she glared at the trio of students going past, their steps fast and talking in nervous, hushed tones about their argument. It was all Meg could do to not tell them to mind their own business.

  But slowly her anger eased, evolving into a relieved disappointment as the cool sound of the fountain reasserted itself. Scuffing her shoes, she looked at her phone for the time. Haley wasn’t coming. Or maybe she had been and turned around and left after catching sight of all that drama.

  “Did I just make a mistake?” she whispered, but damn it, Austin and Dr. Jillium should’ve included her in that conversation. She wasn’t a child. She deserved the dignity of having had a voice in Austin temporarily moving out to encourage a new level of independence.

  Besides, she mused as she miserably scuffed her shoes into the grit, maybe she would have rather moved out than Austin. She could have found her own place with lots of light and openness instead of being stuck in that brown hell they’d been living in for the past three years.

  Again Meg looked at her phone. “She’s not coming,” she whispered. “I am such a fool.”

  Standing, she miserably ate a piece of popcorn as she started down the sidewalk, back to her mac and cheese alone in front of the TV in her ugly brown apartment.

  “Yoo hoo! Meg? Wait! Don’t go. We’re here!”

  Meg spun, her popcorn spilling. It was Haley. A young man walked quickly beside her, the both of them little more than silhouettes in the darkness under the trees. She didn’t stand me up, raced through Meg, then, I hope they didn’t see all that. But it seemed as if they hadn’t, and relief spilled
through her, the last of her anger at Austin fading.

  “I’m sorry we’re late!” Haley called cheerfully, still at some distance away. “Rorry took forever to get himself in order.” Her smile grew more distinct, her heels clicking on the pavers. “You know how men are,” she added, softer as they closed the gap. “Always trying to impress someone or other.”

  Beaming, she held out a hand and took Meg’s fingers in hers, pulling her into a quick hug. “You look nice,” she said when she let go of Meg and hiked her large purse back up her shoulder. “Where are we going? I hope they kept our reservations.”

  “Thank you.” Meg flushed, surprised at the hug. She had no clue where they were going to go, but she was glad she managed to have dressed herself appropriately. Haley had changed into a sweater and slacks as well, though hers was admittedly of a softer yarn than Meg’s.

  Nervous, Meg smiled at Rorry. He stood taller than Meg, and was dark where Haley was light. His black hair curled softly about his ears, and he was clean shaven. He wore a soft knit shirt and jeans with casual shoes. A smile played about his lips as he ran his gaze over Meg with an interest that was welcomingly casual, not carnal. He had Haley’s angular chin, but his was stronger. If anything, they looked like siblings, not lovers, and Meg noticed they stood apart from each other a little.

  “I’m so glad you waited,” Haley gushed, taking Meg’s hands again. “I realized half an hour ago that I didn’t have your phone number. I am such a ditz. Aren’t I, Rorry? He gave me bloody hell about it. We rushed over as fast as we could.”

  Rorry’s smile became warmer, and Meg dropped her eyes. “A total ditz,” he said, his voice low. “But it’s part of your charm.”

  Haley beamed, standing between them as if eager to show Meg off. “Meg, this is Rorry. Rorry, Meg.”

  Meg extended her hand before Rorry could even try to give her a hug. “Meg Seton,” she said, and Rorry took it, giving it a firm shake before letting go.

  “And she paints,” Haley said, as if proud of her.

  Rorry winked at Meg, then cocked his head at Haley. “You told me that already.”

  “Yes, but she is really good,” Haley said, as if that explained her enthusiasm. Then she hesitated. “Where’s Austin?”

  Meg’s smile faded. “He had a family emergency,” she lied. “He says he’s sorry. Next time, maybe. Want some?” She held out the bag of popcorn, and Rorry eagerly helped himself.

  “Oh.” Haley’s bright mood dimmed. “I hope everything is okay. Do you have to go? We’re not keeping you, are we?”

  “No, I’m good,” Meg said with a forced cheerfulness, then just gave Rorry the bag to finish off. “He’s got my number if there’s a real problem, and I’ve got his.” The last came out more grim than she wanted, but she couldn’t believe that he’d gone behind her back. Moths had gathered about the fountain’s lights, and as she watched, one got caught in the tiny spider’s web, ripping it to shreds before falling into the water to drown, its wings too tangled to fly.

  “Well, where will you take us?” Haley asked, and Meg jerked her attention from the doomed moth.

  “Ah, I don’t know,” she admitted, and Rorry turned on a heel to look at the lights now flashing on the nearby building, the sound of the freshman mixer party becoming loud. “Austin and I usually spend Friday night doing something casual, like hot dogs and putt-putt golf.” Meg flushed even as she said it. Putt-putt golf? Did I really just suggest putt-putt golf?

  But Haley bobbed her head and looped her arm in Meg’s. “The one just across the parking lot? I saw it this afternoon. I didn’t know they had food. Let’s do that.”

  Horrified, Meg was jerked into motion. “Oh, no.” Meg scuffed her feet, trying to slow them down as Haley began to lead her across campus. “You wanted to go out to eat. All they have is hot dogs.”

  “It’s Friday,” Rorry protested as well, his attention on the unseen party. “It’s a college town. There’s got to be a club within walking distance. Or we could check out the mixer.”

  “With the freshmen?” Haley countered, looping her other arm in Rorry’s so she was between them as she kept them moving forward. “I don’t think so. Besides, golf is as good as anything else to get to know each other. Better, probably, since I don’t have to watch you flirt with everything in a skirt and half of everything with a goatee.”

  Rorry flushed, and Haley confidently angled them toward the parking lot. “Besides, I’m not dressed for clubbing, and neither is Meg. I love a good hot dog.”

  “Haley…” Rorry persisted, neck craned to see the lights flashing on the building, and Haley turned to him, their pace never slowing.

  “Yes, Rorry?” she said pointedly, and Rorry sighed.

  “I love a good hot dog, too,” he finally muttered, and Haley beamed, letting go of Meg just long enough to give him a loving pat on his chin.

  “Lead on, Meg,” she said cheerfully, the sound of the fountain going soft behind them. “I’ve got a mean bounce shot I want to show you.”

  “It’s just past the parking lot,” she said, relieved. This was as low-stress as it could get. That the “beautiful people” would want to do something she liked was more than gratifying, even if Rorry had suggested something more expensive and extroverted.

  Happy, Meg smiled at the popcorn vendor as they passed him, surprised when he smiled back.

  Six

  “You go first on this one, Meg.”

  Meg’s grip on the putter tightened. Her lips held a tiny smirk at Rorry’s mild annoyance as she set her blue golf ball on the worn circle. The pleasant pattern of give-and-take that fifteen holes of putt-putt had created had left a surprising ease between her, Haley, and Rorry that made it seem as if they’d been friends for years.

  Meg had won the last hole with a two-putt, which meant by Rorry’s rules that she go first on the next. Behind her, Haley was adding up the scores, and Meg studied the classic windmill obstacle, the slowly moving fins blocking the direct line to the hole from time to time. This one had always given Austin trouble, but long practice gave Meg the advantage, and she tapped the ball while the fin was descending. By the time the ball got there, the way was again clear, and it rolled through unimpeded.

  “Nice shot!” Haley said, looking sharp as she tucked the scorecard into her pocket.

  Meg straightened from her putter’s hunch, feeling good as she backed up to let Rorry take the tee. “Thanks.”

  Rorry’s ball began to roll, and he impatiently set it back, gripping the putter awkwardly as he took his first swing. Meg winced, knowing before it moved that it was going to hit the next fin, and sure enough, it bounced back with a dull thud.

  “Rorry, Meg just showed you how to time it,” Haley admonished, and Meg tuned them out, looking over the brightly lit course as Haley began to give him pointers. They were in no hurry. The family ahead of them was taking forever at each hole, and besides, the point wasn’t to get around the eighteen holes as fast as you could, but to enjoy the night.

  And it was a beautiful evening. Meg sighed, content as she took in the elaborate putt-putt arena, busy despite the late hour with young families and couples testing the romantic waters. Spiderwebs glistened everywhere, attracted by the moths that beat their wings to tatters against the hot lights turning the course to noon. There was even a web in the fins of the windmill, and Meg wondered if the spider had spun it while it was moving or if it had been a surprise when the caretaker had turned it on this morning.

  “Nasty things,” Haley said, using the end of her putter to clear the web out before she sashayed back to the tee and set her ball. Rorry had finally made it through, taking three shots to do it. Haley, though, timed it exactly as Meg had. Her aim was better, though, and Meg caught her breath when Haley’s red ball rolled, rolled, and finally dropped into the cup with a little thunk.

  “Hole in one!” Meg shouted, and Haley grinned, returning Meg’s high-five before sauntering around the windmill to supervise Rorry tapping his ball to
ward the hole—and missing.

  “I’m no good at this game,” he complained as Meg lined up her putt and sunk it.

  “Austin and I come out here a lot,” she admitted, her necklace swinging forward as she scooped her ball up and out.

  The family was still lingering at the hole ahead of them, so Haley and Meg stepped to the side, watching Rorry smack his ball around, missing again and again.

  “What is that? Six?” Haley said, then turned to Meg. “That is a beautiful necklace. Is that a real ruby?”

  Startled, Meg picked it up, holding the pendant out to look at it on its silver chain. “Yes. Thanks. It’s real. This one is an emerald,” she said, pointing at the green gem set to look like a blob of paint on the tiny palette. “Diamond. Chocolate diamond. Sapphire. My mom gave it to me when I graduated art school.”

  “She must love you very much,” Haley said, eyes solemn.

  Meg let the necklace fall, resolving to clean it this weekend. She never took it off, and it looked tarnished under the hot lights. “She did,” she said, feeling a faint heartache at the reminder of her mother’s death. That was right about the time the anxiety started, stress that she was only now beginning to pull herself out of. “She passed a few years ago.” It had been right before Austin moved in with her, trying to keep her grounded when her entire world fell apart.

  “Got it!” Rorry called out. “That’s seven for me.”

  “Nine,” Haley countered as she wrote it down with that tiny pencil. “Seriously, it’s just a game. Why are you lying about the score?”

  “Why are you keeping one?” Rorry muttered as they moved to the next tee. “You should get a new necklace,” he added, and Haley pulled up from having set her ball, giving him a smack with the back of her hand.

  “It’s from her mother,” she admonished, and Rorry flushed.