by H P Tune
“You haven’t lived, Mia, until you’ve swatted cockroaches in your kitchen and kicked the front door three times to get it to close. Or stepped over roommates having sex on the lounge room floor when you get home from a twelve-hour waitressing shift with finals the next day.”
Reaching the desired elevator, they waited, Mia looking lost in thought. “You really lived like that?” she asked.
“Mmm-hmm, absolutely. And that was a good day.”
“Oh, what did the worst ones look like?”
“You really don’t want to know.”
“I do. I so do.”
“I might put you off the Moët that you’re craving…”
Mia laughed, pushing the elevator up button multiple times, as if expecting it to arrive faster. “You know what I really feel like now?”
“Please say ‘coffee’?” Juliet had been craving quality caffeine for the last six hours of their flight.
“Nope. I want a chocolate bar, some fries and a Coke. A real Coke, none of that diet, aspartame-filled crap. And I want to drink it out of the can—not a straw or a glass or a glass with a straw.” She opened her mouth to continue the diatribe but stopped at Juliet’s amused look. “What?”
“That’s unusual for you?”
“Are you kidding me? Everywhere I go, there’s someone watching, waiting for me to screw up so they can tell their wives and have it spread around the freakin’ trophy wives club. I once bought a chicken from the store, one of those cooked ones, and a friend of my sister saw me go through the checkout. Seriously, by the time I got home, there was a personal trainer, diet consultant, and a brand new treadmill waiting for me.” Mia’s hands gestured wildly, and her lips pressed tightly together.
“Bullshit,” said Juliet. “There is no way that happened.”
“Oh it happened, and that’s only one example. So, while you were using your shoe to kill insects, I had a drawer full of stomach control pantyhose before I even finished high school.”
Juliet softened. There was a real look of pain across Mia’s expression. “Well,” she said as the doors opened and they slipped inside, “we are going to go upstairs, which is completely your world, and I’m going to introduce you to my world. Are you game?”
“I have no idea what that means. Do I get to drink a Coke?”
“Do you trust me, Mallania Revira?”
“Ah, you remember that I barely know you, right? We met yesterday at the airport…” she trailed off.
“Do you trust me?”
Mia hesitated, and her eyes met Juliet’s unblinking.
For a moment, Juliet expected a no. “Come on, I’m not asking you to base jump off a building with me! I promise it will be completely safe, and it may just change your life.”
“Big call. ‘Change my life,’ hey?”
“Yep, absolutely.”
“All right. I’m game. What are you going to make me do?”
“Make you?” Juliet chuckled as she pushed Mia out of the elevator in a manner that screamed lifelong friends. It was one of those small moments of relaxed interaction only possible when friends had crossed certain boundaries not readily crossed with strangers or acquaintances.
“Ah-huh. What are you going to make me do?”
“That all depends. What do you have in that ridiculously inconvenient suitcase?”
“It’s not inconvenient, it’s useful. It’s easy. It’s part of a set.”
“What’s inside of it, Mia?” Juliet took a step back as Mia handed over her card to the lounge attendant and confirmed their onward flights. It took barely a minute before they were inside the first-class lounge and standing to the side of the elaborate food buffet.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for,” Mia said, “but I have some clothes, a few toiletries, some jewellery that I didn’t want to check in, and a few magazines.”
“I don’t suppose you have a pair of jeans in there?”
Giving Juliet a perplexed look, Mia nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got two pairs.”
“Two?”
“One dark blue and one faded blue so that I had, well, options.” Mia blushed again. Mia had yet to exhibit that suave confidence Juliet had first been introduced to in the Emirates lounge.
“Okay, faded blue out and heels off, and take off all of that gold while you’re at it.”
Mia nodded slowly, hand slowly tracing over the thick chain around her neck, a number of bracelets bouncing against her wrist. “Right,” she said, lifting her bag onto a chair and unzipping it. Her belongings were profoundly ordered, folded and placed in a jigsaw arrangement. Mesh zippered bags held various toiletries, power cables, and adapters in each corner of her case.
Juliet reached blindly into her backpack, pulling out and tossing aside a rolled-up hoodie over the back of the chair. A hairbrush fell to the floor. “What’s your foot size—like, an eight?”
“And a half,” Mia said. “Are you dressing me like a…umm…like ah, you?”
“Yep. You are going to spend the next, what, twenty hours, being more pleb-like. Consider it a social experiment. Take note of how people treat you. How they don’t treat you. How no one, and I mean no one, looks twice if you shove a double cheeseburger and fries down your throat.”
“Be anonymous?”
“Exactly. You never know. You might like it.”
“Why? Why would you do this?”
Juliet shrugged. “Maybe it’ll help my book.” She offered Mia a light-hearted, wide grin she knew wasn’t believable for a moment.
“So go on,” Juliet continued. “Go get changed, and I’ll be right here.”
Mia turned to go when Juliet added, “Oh, wait.” She gave a slight cheer as she tugged a pair of flip-flops from her bag. “These don’t even remotely match this shirt, but that’s half the fun.” She held out the items to Mia and indicated with her head towards the restrooms. “Oh, and you just use the shampoo and conditioner they have in the shower cubicles. You don’t take your own travel-sized organic hair and body products in.”
“How did you know I have organic products?”
“Just a guess. And hey, I’m all for saving the environment and treating the body well, but hell, that stuff is expensive.”
Mia rolled her eyes and disappeared, leaving Juliet to reorder her backpack and find a fresh shirt to change into. She kept her hoodie out; the blasting air conditioning was making her shiver. By the time Mia returned, Juliet had jotted down almost two pages of notes in her Moleskine—reflections and ideas for her novel. “Oh, now you look awesome!”
Mia rolled on the balls of her feet, looking down at her manicured toes with their deep-red polish. “I feel…ridiculous, but comfy.”
“You look good! Come on, sit down and relax. The next plan is food.”
“There’s no way this shirt fits you. Is it from the ex-boyfriend pile?”
Juliet laughed immediately, shaking her head. “No,” she said. “No. My brother’s, actually. It’s an Army football team shirt.”
“It’s loose and light. I don’t have to suck in my stomach.”
“As if you do anyway. But yes, it’s a few years old and pretty well worn.”
“I’m not so sure on the shoes. They make me short, really short.”
“You’re my height. That’s not short. And look around: who cares? No one is even looking at you, and so what if they do?”
Mia nodded slowly as Juliet cast her eyes around their surrounds. No one was looking at Mia. There were just businessmen reading newspapers and couples sitting at laptops or eating soup. “I guess so,” Mia said.
“Why don’t you put that necklace in your purse too?” Juliet watched Mia’s fingers curl around the pendant until it was clasped inside a closed fist.
“No,” Mia said simply, giving no room for negotiation.
Juliet watched her silently as Mia went about putting her belongings back with meticulous precision into their carefully designated spaces. Finally, Mia stood back up and exposed her smile,
and Juliet couldn’t help but think that the casual brown-haired woman standing in front of her could have been a woman she had met at a bar or the supermarket. She was makeup-free, and the natural glow of her skin, even after a long-haul flight, was beautiful. Her physique beneath the loose three-quarter-sleeve jersey looked fit and strong and healthy, belonging to someone with whom she wanted to walk down the street and share a meal. She suddenly didn’t look like she belonged somewhere a world away.
“Next?” Mia said.
“Oh, this is where I get to have a quick shower and you get to go to the buffet and get whatever food and drink you want. Not what is healthy or good for jetlag and not what some bitch from LA would expect you to eat. And so definitely not a carrot or celery stick with a small dollop of hummus. And when I get back, I expect you to have a few delicious options for me as well.”
“Now this sounds like fun.”
“It should be. Meals shouldn’t be a trauma, Mia.”
“Mmm. Anything you want in particular? Drink?”
“I would like a coffee and a beer, please.”
“A beer?”
“Yep, ice cold beer, preferably out of a bottle. But they might kick us out if we get too carried away, so a glass is okay.” Juliet grinned, standing up and taking a few steps before turning back. “Hey, make sure you wait for me. There are some instructions to go with the food. You want to enjoy eating.”
Mia laughed and nodded. “Yes, Juliet.”
* * *
By the time Juliet returned, wet hair half caught in the neck of her hoodie, Mia had a range of decadent treats on the table and two tall glasses of beer waiting. She had spent part of the time Juliet was away staring at the food and salivating. The rest of the time, she had been preoccupied with managing the rising anxiety in her gut. Lifelong habits were hard to break.
“Nice choices.” Juliet raised her eyebrows as she examined the items before her. “And that looks suspiciously like a tumbler of soda?”
Mia shrugged. “It may be diet. I was going to lie and say I got that Coke, but the truth is I caved.”
Laughing, Juliet slumped down on the other end of the two-seater sofa and tucked one leg up underneath herself so that her body was tilted towards Mia. “You’re excused. To tell you the truth, I drink diet soda too. Sugar and caffeine? I’d never sleep.”
“From what I’ve seen, you could sleep through an earthquake.”
Juliet’s grin fell to a weak smile, and she gave Mia a fleeting, defeated look. “I wish.” A moment later, the expression was gone. “Anyway, the point is that if you want to have a Coke occasionally, then you can.”
“Yeah, yeah, easy for you to say…I mean, you’re all skinny and, you know, hot.”
“I don’t pretend to know everything about well, anything, actually. But if you think the most important thing in life is what size jeans you fit into, then I’ve overestimated you, Mia. I took you as someone with much more substance than that kind of shit, as if it matters at the end of the day. Being a reasonable person? Treating people well and with respect and kindness? That is what you want to go home to. Not some false size zero who can’t form an independent thought.”
“I didn’t mean that it’s the most important thing.” Mia hesitated briefly. “I just meant it as a compliment.”
“It’s the hoodie that does it,” Juliet said seriously, narrowing her eyes and nodding.
“What?” Mia stared at Juliet.
“The hoodie makes me hot. I mean, what’s not to love about the Gap logo that draws attention to my very awesome cleavage?”
Mia laughed, and Juliet gave a soft snicker.
“All right, I’m starving.” Juliet took two fries first and then dropped a brownie square into her mouth. “Mmm. That is good.” She licked her fingers slowly in a clearly deliberate performance for Mia. With a swipe of the back of her fingers against Mia’s shoulder, she silently prodded her.
Mia slowly leaned forward, deliberating momentarily, and then picked up a fork.
“Hey, put down the fork,” Juliet said. “We’re using our fingers. It’s all part of the fun. And what did you even get a knife for?”
Laughing, Mia dropped the fork onto the table. It clipped the side of a plate and bounced noisily. Juliet curled her fingers around Mia’s forearm.
“Wait. What are you eating, Mia?”
“Ah, cheesecake, Juliet.”
“Are you going to enjoy it?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Juliet sat tall and squared her shoulders. “Then bite it in half, taste it. Finish it. Lick your fingers.” Her tone was passionate.
“You’re nuts.”
“More like genetically flawed,” Juliet said. Her tongue peeked out of her lips as she smiled.
It seemed so simple, eating and not thinking, but everything Mia did, every item she bought, every word that came out of her mouth was considered. She was used to analysing the outcome of every single one of her choices, anticipating the complex domino effect that could result from something seemingly insignificant. Food was just one example.
“Mmm,” Mia purred, eyes fluttering closed. She dipped the end of her thumb and index finger into her mouth and sucked on them with a loud pop. “I so need another one of those.”
She heard Juliet emit a childish giggle, and it made her open her eyes. Mia’s foot had started tapping over and over. Her knee jiggled as Juliet’s knuckles grazed her thigh, and Mia cursed the sudden burning behind her eyes. Juliet would think her crazy if she started to cry for no reason. “Thank you,” she said, a perceptible catch to her voice.
Juliet smiled. “I’m going to try the passionfruit one,” she said and held Mia’s stare for just a moment too long for Mia’s comfort.
Yet, when Juliet averted her eyes, it still felt a little too soon.
CHAPTER 3
“You know what? I just realised that I have no idea what day it is or what day I left home,” Juliet said, sitting next to Mia in a hard plastic chair in Heathrow Airport, with her face in her hands.
Mia felt conflicted. Despite the lengthy flights, she had enjoyed getting to know Juliet and spending time in her company. It had been too long since she had had the opportunity to enjoy someone’s company without expectations. She wasn’t that ready to say goodbye; not that she thought Juliet probably cared. “I so hope this apartment you’ve organised in Brussels has a bed.”
“I’m wrecked. I literally feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“It’s potentially your last flight for six months, so just relax and enjoy the…Oh, wait, maybe don’t enjoy the flight. But enjoy the fact that you are so close now.” Mia smiled.
Her feet were crossed out in front of her with Juliet’s red flip-flops on display. She still wore Juliet’s shirt, and her jeans had stretched slightly over the course of the flight, loose now around the legs and waist. Flicking her toes so that the flip-flops tapped against her heels, she said, “You know, I should own up. It was me that was once refused entry for my inappropriate footwear that time. I’m not sure why I pretended it wasn’t.”
Juliet didn’t comment, just smiled and shrugged.
“Hey, are you sure you don’t want your shirt and shoes back? I feel bad for taking them.”
Juliet shook her head vehemently, eyes bloodshot and tired-looking when she raised her face. “Definitely not. I hope you wear more of them, actually, though it’ll be a little cold for flip-flops right now. So you probably don’t need to worry about not being allowed into airport lounges over winter.”
Mia felt her cheeks warm. “True, but I think I might just do that, wear more comfortable clothes. It’s been kind of amazing. When I bought our coffee before, no revolting old men accidently touched my ass. Or my breasts.”
“Well, that would be disappointing.” Juliet’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“If you come and visit me after you’ve finished your book, I’ll hook you up with a new shirt. Apparently the Scottish rugby jersey is pret
ty good. Or the team is good? I’m not actually clear on that. But either way, I’ll get you something socially appropriate.”
Juliet laughed. “Sounds like a good deal to me. So you’ll still be there in five years when I eventually get this manuscript done?”
“I have more faith in you than that, Juliet.” Mia wished she knew what to say to let Juliet know that she wanted to get acquainted more. Why she couldn’t just say that, she didn’t know. Was it crazy to expect Juliet to do it, just because she couldn’t?
“Yeah, well, you’re the only one,” Juliet said. She seemed to have missed the serious undertone Mia intended. “You realise that when I actually get to Brussels, I’m going to have to write? I won’t be able to procrastinate any longer.”
“Please take a couple of days to relax and recover.” Mia had already gotten the impression over the past two days that Juliet wasn’t anywhere near as kind and gentle with herself as she was with other people.
“I might need a reminder of that.”
“Well, consider it done. Are e-mail and text okay, or will I also need to leave long and detailed messages on your cell?”
“Probably e-mail and text will have the effect needed. You know, it feels kind of weird: we’ve spent just about every minute of the last forty-eight hours together, and now we just go in different directions.”
Mia propped her head up on her hand, elbow on the armrest next to her. “I was just thinking that earlier. You’ll stay in contact? I’m really excited to hear how the book goes.”
“Absolutely.” Juliet glanced at the go to gate message sitting next to her flight number on the departures information screen nearby. “And I want to be kept up to date with how the change of scenery is treating you.”
They shared a look for a few prolonged seconds before Mia finally broke the silence. “Are you okay?” She tried to keep her tone gentle, helplessly watching tears well in Juliet’s eyes, blue irises glazing over.
Juliet coughed. “Yeah.” She shook her head as if flinging the emotion away. “Just being silly.” Her smile looked forced to Mia, although really it appeared more a hybrid grimace than anything remotely close to an expression of happiness. “You, umm, have to change terminals, right?”
