Rewriting the Ending

by H P Tune

  “Do they have to all have something to say?” she asked Mia pointedly.

  “People are rude, no social skills whatsoever.”

  Widening her scarf, Juliet pushed her hands into her pockets and dropped her head, lifting her eyes occasionally to keep track of where they were going.

  Mia dropped an arm around Juliet’s shoulders. “Fuck ’em,” she muttered. “Just ignore them. Who cares if they stare?”

  “I care.” Mia could barely hear her.

  “Wasn’t it you that made me get changed at an airport just to prove some point about opinions?”

  “Maybe…but this is different. They probably think I’m some weakling who…I don’t know.”

  “Mmm? Who does what?” She knew by Juliet’s tone that she had no real argument to validate the way she was feeling. She kept her arm in position, and Juliet slowly closed the small gap between them, pressing into Mia’s side.

  “I just wish they wouldn’t stare.”

  Mia nodded, clearing her throat as another middle-aged woman approached from the opposite direction.

  “Eyes to yourself, hey?” she said just loud enough to break the women’s fixation on Juliet’s face. Juliet chuckled as the woman had to step off the path to let them pass.

  “You want me to say that to every person that dares to look?” She gave Juliet a teasing poke. “’Cause I will.”

  “No,” Juliet said softly, glancing up at Mia with a smile. “You might scare someone.”

  She held Mia’s gaze longer than necessary, her expression slowly losing its lightness. Mia struggled to draw her eyes away, captivated. She wanted her own expression to portray everything that words seemed too difficult or too inaccurate to say. She wanted to press a kiss to Juliet and somehow communicate everything that was too early to declare—that she was safe and loving, devoted and sure. And in those few seconds, moving blindly along the sidewalk, she convinced herself that Juliet felt it too.

  “Ouch, fuck!” Juliet’s foot suddenly caught a slight rise in the footpath, and she stumbled, one hand immediately slamming against her ribs as she braced for the inevitable fall.

  But Mia didn’t let her fall.

  She tightened the arm at Juliet’s shoulder and rushed another to her elbow, easily stopping Juliet from falling further as she landed hard on the ball of her foot and her upper body jerked and folded forward.

  “Ow.” Juliet managed to fall back into a smooth step, but not before she released a childish whimper and her head lilted to the side, temple on Mia’s shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Are you okay?” Mia’s fingertips grazed over Juliet’s shoulder and the thick material of the jacket she wore.

  “Ow, but yes.”

  Picking up on the frustrated catch in Juliet’s voice, Mia released Juliet’s other arm and brushed some loose curls away from her hair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t watching where we were going.”

  A few more slow, shallow breaths, and Juliet raised her head. “Neither was I.” Mia was relieved to see a smile gradually tug at the corners of her mouth. “Jesus Christ, that hurt, though.”

  “I could tell.”

  “I could do with sitting down soon,” Juliet said, huddling with an open palm still pressed to her injured side. “It’s just here?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just up these steps. Careful, they’re kind of uneven.”

  Straightening up a little more, Juliet winced and allowed Mia to direct her to a quiet booth towards the back but next to a wide window. The view stretched to the street they had just walked down and towards a green valley behind some shops and houses. A stream ran along a deep dip in the pastures.

  “Better,” Juliet said, blowing hair out of her eyes as she unknotted her scarf.

  “Let me.” Mia stepped behind Juliet and drew her jacket down from her arms. “I’ll grab us a drink and the menus. I’m getting something hot, a coffee, I think. Do you want a coffee or hot chocolate or something else?”

  “Is there ever a question? Coffee, please.”

  Reappearing and sitting down opposite her a few minutes later, Mia placed her handbag on the seat next to her and cast her eyes over Juliet. “You feeling all right?” she asked. “Breathing okay?”

  “Yeah,” Juliet said eventually. “It hurt, but it’s okay. It’s settling down now. I just needed to stop and sit.”

  Mia ran her fingers along the edge of the café table. She swallowed and looked up at Juliet, breaking her gaze quickly when she found Juliet intently watching her. “Was there…” Mia closed one eye and pondered her phrasing. “Was that a…moment, back there?” She tried to keep her tone light and jovial, but it came out more tortured and doubtful.

  Juliet opened her mouth to answer, but seemed to pause as Mia continued to nervously examine the indentations on the polished wood. “I’m a little out of practise,” Juliet said quietly, “but if my memory is holding up, I would have called that a moment.”

  “Really?”

  “Mmm-hmm, I would.”

  Mia exhaled noisily and gave a tense chuckle. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Juliet said. “It’s your eyes, you know. How have you ever managed to have a conversation with someone and not have them want to kiss you?”

  An intense heat spread up Mia’s neck and throughout her cheeks. Her gaze fell as she shook her head. “You haven’t really…I mean, I wouldn’t have thought you were…interested,” she said, chastising herself for such awkward phrasing.

  “Interest isn’t an issue,” Juliet said, one hand raking through her hair. “I could have had sex with you in the lounge bathroom in LAX or Dubai or Heathrow.” She laughed and shook her head. “But Mia, that’s not the kind of person you are.”

  “How do you know?” Mia teased. “I could be.”

  Juliet gave her a perplexed expression. “Okay, so maybe you are. I’m a little confused about where you’re headed with that thought, though.” When Mia didn’t respond, Juliet continued. “I was flying to Europe. I was likely never going to see you again. And here I have to go back. I have a book to write. I don’t want to mess you up. You’ve had enough shit to deal with without me letting you down.”

  “Why would you let me down?”

  Juliet sighed. “Because I’ll be leaving, Mia.”

  “I guess I thought that I just wasn’t your type.” She couldn’t quite find the words to say that she didn’t think that Juliet found her attractive, that she wasn’t the kind of person Juliet would want to jump into bed with.

  “No, that’s not it. Not it at all. You are, well, you’re something amazing. And you don’t deserve to have me fall into your life like some broken-winged bird only to fly back out again.”

  “What if I wanted that? What if I wanted something that’s just…brief?”

  “Well,” Juliet said quietly, “it’s not what I want for you. Or for me right now. Besides, there’s nothing fun about this body for the moment. It would be a very anti-climactic fling.”

  “Oh I didn’t mean…” Mia rushed to tone down her intent. “I’m not pressuring, so please don’t think that. I just, what happened out there, was, like, two seconds, but I’m not going crazy, so that’s good.”

  Their coffees arrived, and two menus were placed on the table. Quickly, Mia grabbed a menu and focussed on reading it. “No idea what I feel like,” she said, the heel of her right foot tapping nervously under the table. “Some soup, maybe. Do you know what you want?”

  Pulling her coffee to the side by the saucer, Juliet reached across the table. She could only just tap the back of Mia’s hand where it held the menu in front of her.

  “Mia,” she said gently, “I didn’t take offence, and I don’t feel pressured. And I want you to know that this is about me.”

  Mia rolled her eyes, and they both shared a soft laugh.

  “Yeah, I know, terrible line. And honestly, if my entire life didn’t feel so completely fucked up right now, things might be
different. But I can’t do this to you now. It wouldn’t be fair. I don’t want this to be awkward, but you and this place are the best thing for me at the moment. Is that okay with you?”

  “Oh, of course.” Mia shook her head in shame.

  “Good.”

  Mia hesitated. “Can I just ask you one teeny tiny thing though?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Can we revisit this? In a few weeks, when things have settled down a little?”

  “Mia…”

  “I don’t know how to explain to you how comfortable I feel. It’s been so long—too long, actually—since I’ve felt whatever this is. And I know I’m not being articulate, because it doesn’t all make sense to me either. But for the first time in forever, I want to spend time with someone rather than be by myself. And I’m not crazy. I mean, it’s scary after all this time, and I keep telling myself that I’m probably wrong and that this kind of thing doesn’t go my way. Or work out for me.”

  Juliet gradually nodded her head. “I do know what you mean,” she said.

  “So, yes? We’ll relax and enjoy our time and talk about this again in a few weeks when you’re feeling better and life is back on a bit more of an even keel, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Juliet’s eyes unexpectedly sparkled, laugh lines creasing. It made Mia wonder if despite her hesitation, Juliet was happier about that concept than she was willing to admit. Mia reminded herself that she needed to give her time, time to breathe and think. Let her do some processing and make a considered decision.

  “You’re too quick to get rid of me,” Mia said with a deliberately inappropriate wink, somehow reassured that they had made it unscathed through that admittedly brief conversation. “You shouldn’t write me off just yet.”

  Juliet just smiled and shrugged.

  But a line had been crossed; Mia knew it. She caught Juliet glancing at her throughout the day, her eyes falling at times to the hollow of Mia’s breasts. Each time, Juliet’s face would distinctly flush. Similarly, when Mia touched Juliet’s lower back with her palm, the pad of her little finger would tap at the curve of her buttock and Juliet would clench almost imperceptibly in a way Mia found deliciously muscular and inviting. Sometimes she would even dare inch her hand up higher so that it rested platonically on the waistband of Juliet’s jeans.

  This was exactly where Mia’s hand lay when a couple stood just yards from their car. It took a moment of shared eye contact before Mia realised that she had been recognised; she hadn’t even really considered the possibility, given her preoccupation on Juliet. Her hand dropped reflexively from Juliet’s back, and immediately, she chastised herself. Old acquaintances shouldn’t hold power over her now. She felt their eyes on her back as she and Juliet got into the car. She forced herself not to look up until she reversed the car out of the park. The couple still stood there unmoving.

  “Someone you know?”

  Mia startled slightly, then shot a brief glance at Juliet. Rolling her eyes, she nodded. “Yeah, sort of. From my old life.”

  The query ended there with Juliet quickly moving the conversation to talk about how good their lunch was. Mia could only presume it was deliberate. It certainly calmed her heart rate.

  As they arrived home, Juliet accepted Mia’s proffered hand at the side of the car. Outside the house, along the path where shade dominated and a thin layer of ice made it slippery and dangerous, she curled her fingers around Mia’s knuckles and gripped tightly.

  Days went by, and there was a sense of safety in their long-term togetherness, and gradually, Mia felt the invisible barrier pulsating between them slacken. They were genuinely free to take a deep breath and act fluidly, like they had all the time in the world.

  It made for a very pleasant week.

  * * *

  Wearing knee-high sheepskin boots to keep warm in the old, draughty place, Mia slipped quietly into the office, mug of hot peppermint tea in her hand. She gave the open door a soft knock with the toe of her shoe, and Juliet spun around in the chair. Mia smiled at Juliet’s image: hastily blinking, red-rimmed eyes and a messy ponytail with two pens poked through it. She had barely left the laptop in a week, just emerging for the occasional bathroom break and food. More often than not, she only stopped to eat or drink when Mia insisted. The desk was covered with scribbled notepaper, and stray sheets were scattered on the floor. Juliet insisted they were in a specifically ordered system; Mia wasn’t so sure.

  “I brought you tea,” she said. “And cake. Janet makes the best pound cake.”

  Juliet released a satisfied-sounding groan of approval. “Awesome, thank you.”

  “How’s the writing going?”

  A grin slowly appeared on Juliet’s face, and she nodded, eyes wide and tongue just nudging out between her teeth. “So good.”

  “Wow, you look pleased.”

  “I sent three chapters to my editor last night, and by all reports, they are loved!”

  Mia clapped her hands and gave Juliet a quick, gentle squeeze around her shoulders. With her stitches removed almost a week ago, Juliet’s face was finally free of bruising, and the swelling had gone. The lacerations were mostly healed. Just a slight red line remained that Juliet reported would occasionally itch or jab at her if she happened to catch it with her nail. Her ribs were still causing her trouble, although it would have been impossible for her to sit in a desk chair all day up until just a few days ago. She was doing better, and she hadn’t once mentioned any intent to leave.

  “Does that mean you might take a break tonight?”

  “I think that sounds like the best idea you’ve had all week. And I’ve earned it, I really have.”

  “In that case, can I interest you in dinner and drinks?”

  Juliet paused, a small broken piece of cake halfway to her mouth. “What, out?”

  “No, no way. It’s snowing again out there. It’s freezing. I was thinking more here. We have things to celebrate.”

  “We do?”

  “Absolutely. Aside from your writing, we need to celebrate the fact that you’re starting to feel better. I know the side is still painful, but I think no bruises of any shape or form is something to drink to. And it’s twelve months since I’ve been footloose and fancy free, sans husband, so I would like to take you on a date to celebrate. What do you think?” Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t believe she had just dared call their dinner a date.

  “We’re celebrating the demise of your marriage?”

  Mia chuckled. “That makes it sound very dysfunctional…but no, we’re encouraging each other in our new focus and direction. It’s about our future and new horizons.”

  “You sound like you swallowed a greeting card.”

  “Well, you’re the writer. Help me out here. What should I say?”

  “Ah-huh,” Juliet said, pondering for a moment before leaning back in the chair. She cleared her throat. “Okay, you might say something along these lines.” She tapped an index finger to her lips as she deliberated. “Say: Juliet, tonight at seven, I’m taking you to a celebratory dinner.”

  Mia did not miss the reframing of date into celebratory dinner. “That’s not a request,” she said, keeping her tone light.

  Juliet shook her head. “Nope. If you want something, then I’m a big believer in making it happen. Besides, you’re not asking me on a date. We’re sharing a dinner.” She took a sip of peppermint tea.

  Mia’s lips twisted with uncertainty. “Mmm, good point.” It was sufficiently non-committal, she decided.

  “So?” Juliet said.

  “So what?”

  “Are you going to say it?”

  Mia rubbed her eyes. “Are you deliberately delaying answering?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Mmm,” Mia said again. She stepped back towards the doorway. “Well, now that you’ve asked yourself out on a date tonight, I better get some things organised. I assume you’ve accepted.” She felt her heart quicken again as she pressed the date word again, even after Juliet’s
clear distinction earlier. She waited for another reframe from Juliet.

  She got the complete opposite: “Does that mean I have to get out of my pyjamas?” Juliet asked, glancing down between her hands, where both were wrapped around the steaming mug. Dancing ducks stared back at her.

  Mia laughed. “It’s been a little while since I did the traditional dinner date thing, but it would certainly be unique if you came in…those. I’ve always wanted to woo a duck.”

  “I won’t come in pyjamas,” Juliet said jovially. “Hell, I might even shower and wash my hair.” She ran a hand through her dirty and knotted hair. She really had found her muse, and everything else went out the proverbial window when the words were flowing, apparently. “But I might need to borrow some items, if we’re going traditional. Clothes, hair straightener, heels…”

  Tapping her fingers together, Mia formed a sly grin and pursed her lips. “Do you do dresses?”

  “What do you mean do I do dresses?”

  “Oh, I was thinking how I have one that would be perfect for you, but then I second-guessed myself. I mean, not everyone likes dresses. Do you?”

  “Do I like dresses?” Juliet asked.

  “Yeah.” Mia rolled up on the edges of her feet where she stood.

  “Of course I like dresses,” Juliet said, breaking into a smile. Mia relaxed.

  “Soooo,” Mia said, “I’ll leave some items on your bed? Is that okay? You’re welcome to rummage through my wardrobe, but mostly my stuff will be too big. There are a few things that I think will fit, though.”

  “Sounds great—I’m in. I’ll get a couple more hours of writing done, and then I’ll do some prettying up.”

  “You could wear the ducks and still be pretty,” Mia said quickly, another smile on her face as she disappeared out the door, pulling it half closed behind her.

  She had some organising to do.

  * * *

  With a fluffy white towel wrapped around her chest, Juliet considered the items laid out on her bed. Mia had banished her from the kitchen and dining room, insisting that she would be knocking on her door at seven. Juliet had played along, distractedly typing and talking at the same time, teasing Mia.