The Triad

by Sarah Ettritch

  Ann shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll meet her at the Festival of the Way.”

  Mo looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m spending it with Andrew.”

  Oh, great. “Don’t harass her, okay?”

  Ann drew back. “I won’t. Oh, were you accepted to the military orchestra? I heard Steve was.”

  “I was too, but I turned it down.”

  “Why?”

  Because she already had enough to worry about without practices and concerts. “I don’t really have the time. When I read over the info Ross sent me for the meeting this afternoon, I realized the practicums will be more work than I thought.”

  Ann picked up a card. She smiled and laid her hand on the table, face up. “Chalk another one up for me!”

  Mo sighed and threw her cards down.

  “You’re not paying attention. What’s bugging you? I thought it was Peggy, but you don’t seem too bothered about her.”

  Only because Peggy had to get in line behind Les and Jayne.

  Ann’s eyes narrowed. “Why isn’t Jayne with you?”

  “She’s busy.” Mo ignored Ann’s dubious look. “She’s meeting Les for lunch today.”

  “Ah. You’d better check the time again, see if they’re together yet.” Ann continued on before Mo could retort. “So how are things between you and Lesley? You never told me if I was right about...everything.”

  “You were right,” Mo admitted, knowing she wouldn’t get away with lying to Ann for long. One lie would lead to another, and then another, until she tripped herself up. She felt herself smile; she’d love to tell Ann that Jayne felt the same way, but that would be asking for trouble and betray Jayne’s trust. “Things are a little tense right now, but we’ll work it out.” Ha! She was lying to herself again. She hoped they’d work things out, and was starting to appreciate that doing so would take time—maybe months. Les would have to see that Mo’s feelings for her hadn’t changed. Telling her wasn’t going to make a difference.

  “So what happens now? With Jayne?”

  Mo didn’t have to consider lying to answer that question. “Nothing.” Not at the speed she and Jayne had agreed to move. They had plenty of time to get involved—the rest of their lives.

  Ann’s brow furrowed. “You’re not going to tell her?”

  Argamon! Tread carefully... “With the way things are with Les—”

  Ann’s eyes lit up. “She’s not up here because you don’t trust yourself. I knew it!” She grinned. “Another game?”

  “Sure,” Mo said, pleased that her evasive answer had satisfied Ann. While Ann shuffled the cards, Mo popped the last bit of sandwich into her mouth and fought the urge to check her comm unit.

  Would they talk about her? Would Les lash out at Jayne? Would either of them beep to let her know how it went, or mind if she beeped them to ask?

  “Should I deal?” Ann raised a brow. “Or do you want to check the time first?”

  Mo tapped the table with one hand, sat on the other, and vowed to spend more time with Les, even if she had to read announcements while Les studied for her tests. Les and Jayne hadn’t declared feelings for each other, but thinking of them together tied Mo up in knots. Imagine how Les must feel!

  *****

  Lesley thanked the server and pulled out the chair across from Jayne in an eatery in D2. The awkwardness at their last lunch together still made her cringe, and the change of venue wouldn’t make any difference. Lesley already felt as if they were talking about everything except what was on both of their minds. Sipping her water, she decided to dispense with the small talk. “Mama has suggested that you stay at the estate on the night of the festival supper. Otherwise we’ll have to fly you home, only to turn around and pick you up again in the morning.”

  Jayne lifted her napkin and unfolded it. “Would you mind, if I stayed?”

  It would be better than Jayne staying at the Middletons’, and Lesley wasn’t angry with her. Any time resentment toward Jayne stirred, Lesley’s intellect quickly set her back on the rational path. Jayne hadn’t decided to develop feelings for Mo, and vice versa. Lesley could resent how things had turned out, ache over what she’d lost, and feel frustrated that there was nothing she could do except learn to live with it. She couldn’t be angry with or resent them, and she was grateful that she was thinking straight enough to recognize that. Otherwise she’d throw her water in Jayne’s face, not sip it while she pondered what to say. She set her already half-empty glass on the table. “No, I wouldn’t mind. It makes sense. Mo will stay over, too.”

  When Lesley had mentioned Mama’s suggestion to her, Mo had made it clear that if Jayne stayed, she stayed. While ruminating over Mo and Jayne’s fledgling relationship, Lesley had also recognized that if she’d developed feelings for Jayne first, she would have kept them to herself and made sure that her manner toward Jayne never gave Mo a reason to suspect. She dearly loved Mo, but that didn’t mean she was blind to Mo’s weaknesses. With Mo’s jealousy, there was no telling what would have happened. This way...as much as Lesley hated it, if it had to happen, the burden was better placed on her shoulders.

  “I’m not looking forward to the morning program.” Jayne’s face reddened. “I—I’m not saying I don’t want to celebrate the Way,” she quickly clarified. “But...I usually go on my own.”

  Even Lesley’s reflexive politeness couldn’t prevent her from barking a laugh. “You’re not looking forward to spending it with us?”

  Jayne’s eyes widened; she thrust her hand out, almost knocking over her water. “No! I just don’t relish the thought of sitting through the Adams skit, wondering who’s looking at me. Usually I sit at the back, not caring what anyone thinks. This time...” She swallowed. “It will matter to me,” she finished quietly.

  “We’ve already decided that we’ll sit in the back. And we’ve seen the skit before.” But not while sitting with an Adams. Would people turn to gawk? Would everyone shun the Thompsons and Middletons during the intermissions, when Rymellans milled around the snack tables and chatted? Did it matter? Between the two families and their friends, they’d have plenty of Rymellans to socialize with, no matter what happened. And... “Laura and her family will be attending the festival in C3. She thought it might be prudent to be there, since it will be your first one with us.”

  Jayne didn’t appear surprised, and Lesley wouldn’t have been so blunt if she’d thought Jayne would be offended. “She said she might sit next to you, for support.”

  “Some Rymellans will assume she’s there to keep me in line,” Jayne said.

  Lesley realized with a start that the thought had never crossed her mind. It certainly would have before she’d met Jayne.

  The server interrupted them and took their orders. When they were alone again, Lesley raised a subject that had been in the back of her mind since her conversation with Laura. “Since I’m the Principal, people have fallen into the habit of seating me between you and Mo. But that doesn’t mean I have to be in the middle when we’re sitting at an event like the festival. If you’d like to sit next to Mo...”

  Jayne shook her head. “I think you should be in the middle.”

  “Are you sure? Since you’re already worried that you’ll feel uncomfortable, I’d understand if you’d rather sit next to Mo.”

  “But...” Jayne moved her hands below the table. “You’re my Chosen, too. Sitting next to you will...help just as much as sitting next to Mo.”

  “I feel I’m in the way right now,” Lesley admitted, surprising herself. It was as if she had so much on her mind, she couldn’t hold it all in. “I’m an obligation.” She lifted her hands and dropped them to the table. “Our lunches are an obligation.”

  Jayne blinked at her. “No, they’re not. I look forward to them.” Her voice softened. “I wish we could see each other more often.”

  The tenderness in Jayne’s voice... Lesley met Jayne’s eyes—and saw what she’d seen outside Government Hall on the night of the
awards ceremony. Jayne was saying something, but Lesley wasn’t listening. Could she be mistaken? After the ceremony, she’d figured her agitation over admitting that Jayne was her Chosen had led her to see something in Jayne’s eyes that wasn’t there. But with recent developments, the last thing she’d do was imagine that Jayne was developing feelings for her. She hadn’t imagined things when she’d first suspected Mo’s feelings for Jayne. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, I know the situation is difficult for everyone, but you’re bearing the brunt of it.”

  “I’d rather it be me than Mo.” Not only because of Mo’s jealousy. Mo had already gone through enough with her mama’s death, and Lesley wanted Mo to be happy. Mo wore her emotions on her sleeve. Watching her try to deal with a relationship between her two Chosens would have been too painful to bear, and could still happen. Lesley hoped that Mo falling for Jayne first would help when—if—Lesley ever fell for Jayne. Argamon, she’d have to be a lot more careful about what she said to Jayne from now on. Her feelings for Jayne were still purely platonic, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about hurting her. “And when I said our lunches are an obligation, I meant it feels that way because we only see each other for Berry. We don’t spontaneously get together, I guess.”

  “What would we do, if we did?” Jayne asked. “Read cases?”

  Lesley chuckled. It was a good question. Her thoughts turned to what she and Mo did when they saw each other. Their lives were so intertwined that it felt as if they were already Joined. Spending time together could mean Lesley reading while Mo typed dispatches to her friends on the Falcon. Before their separation, they’d gone to the Dance Hall and the odd concert or play, but those activities were triad activities now. They still hadn’t gone to the lake, and spent too much of their time together discussing the triad. Their quiet companionship had fallen to the wayside. Lesley missed it. Perhaps next time they saw each other, she’d suggest a walk and declare certain topics of conversation off-limits. Was that the key to retaining the uniqueness and specialness of their relationship—ensuring that their time alone together was truly theirs? Of course, Jayne would always be with them to some degree, but right now she hung over them to the extent that Lesley could almost see her when she wasn’t there.

  The same would hold true for Mo and Jayne—they needed their time together... And so did she and Jayne? The notion felt alien to Lesley, perhaps because these lunches were their only experience of time alone together. They’d soon Join. It would be prudent for Lesley to know her second Chosen more than she did now. She had a sense of her, but she didn’t consider them friends. She was closer to Laura, which didn’t seem right.

  Her mind returned to their conversation. “You do seem to enjoy discussing cases more than Mo does, which isn’t difficult to achieve.”

  It was Jayne’s turn to chuckle.

  “I don’t expect you to discuss cases with me, though,” Lesley added. What could they do? “You haven’t seen much of the estate. Perhaps we can go for a bike ride next time I’m off, so I can show you around, or at least show you the highlights. It’s too big to do in an afternoon.”

  “What about Mo?”

  “I’ll definitely have to talk to Mo about it first.” She’d make it clear that the lake wouldn’t be one of the stops on their bike tour. “I’ll suggest that we meet her for supper afterward.”

  Jayne hesitated. “I’d like to, but I don’t have a bike.”

  Lesley shrugged. “You can use Mama or Papa’s.”

  “If they don’t mind, okay. I’d like that.”

  The server arrived with their lunches. They ate their salads in a more companionable silence than Lesley had expected possible. She looked forward to spending time with Mo and trying to simply enjoy her company, and she wouldn’t mind showing off the estate to Jayne. Her mood had improved ever so slightly, perhaps because she felt something she’d thought would permanently elude her: hope. For the first time since Mo had confirmed her suspicion about Jayne, Lesley could see a dim light through the storm.

  *****

  Jayne glanced down at the festival program she clutched in her hand. Her stomach knotted. Everyone else had rested their programs on their laps or slotted them into the back of the chair in front of them, but she needed something to hang onto. The more she tried to slow her breathing, the faster her chest rose and fell. Her muscles were already aching when everyone applauded the group who’d re-enacted the evolution of Article CT77. She wouldn’t have thought that her jaw could tighten any further, but somehow it did when the announcer introduced the next skit.

  The “Adamses” stumbled onto the stage. Jayne felt as if an elephant was sitting on her throat. The program she squeezed cut into her hand. Her cheeks burned. She wondered what was running through Lesley and Mo’s minds, but she didn’t dare turn to them.

  Laughter rang out at the antics of the two actors onstage—but not around her. The Thompsons, Middletons, and Finneys occupied the two back rows, and those rows remained silent. Tears stung Jayne’s eyes. What were they all thinking? Were they uncomfortable, embarrassed, ashamed? Her presence had dampened the day for them, families who didn’t deserve to share in the Adams taint. Would they object if she headed for the train station as soon as the morning program was over? The Thompsons were usually all-day attendees, but maybe they’d want to run away and hide, too.

  The audience roared again. Jayne resisted the urge to lower her head. Stupid—nobody could think less of her, so what would it matter if they caught her hanging her head? Oh, who was she trying to fool? She cared about what they thought: Lesley, Mo, Adelaide, Laura, choose a random Rymellan from the audience. Everyone must have snickered when she’d entered the tent and sat between a commodore and a lieutenant commander, upstanding Rymellans with flawless bloodlines who’d never imagined themselves sitting next to an Adams at the Festival of the Way. Worse, next year Lesley would be an Adams.

  She turned when she felt a hand on her right arm. Lesley met her eyes. “You all right?” she murmured.

  Jayne swallowed and nodded.

  Lesley lifted her hand and turned back to the stage.

  Jayne straightened as well, and when the audience booed at the usual point in the skit, her head remained high. She thought back to the awards ceremony, remembered watching Lesley receive her medal and listening to her speak. Despite the situation with Mo, Lesley had still thought to... As far as Jayne was concerned, Lesley deserved the Medal of the Protector and every other medal in existence.

  For the rest of the morning, she sat straight and stared down the handful of Rymellans who turned around to sneer at her, not for herself, but for her Chosens. When everyone rose at the conclusion of the morning program to say the Words Every Rymellan Knows, Jayne tried not to hold Lesley’s hand too tightly and proudly said them along with her: Disobedience means death. Death to those who commit a Chosen Violation. Death to those who disobey. Death to those who violate the Way.

  *****

  Mo swallowed a mouthful of cookie and gaped at Ann. “The Dance Hall?” Argamon, Ann should know better than to bring that up.

  Andrew nodded. “Come on, Ann has to go back to 72 tomorrow.”

  What a shame! Mo gave Les a sidelong glance. “By the time the afternoon program is over and we’ve had supper, it’ll be...” 19:00? Okay, forget that excuse.

  “Let’s go.” Les turned to Mo. “We’ve been talking about going.”

  Only because Les kept bringing it up.

  “It probably won’t be as packed tonight,” Ann pointed out.

  Now Mo glanced at Jayne, who’d probably appreciate a half-filled hall—though after this morning’s program, maybe she’d prefer to hide from Rymellans for a while. Not that she had anything to be ashamed about.

  Jayne caught Mo’s eye. “I’m okay with going, if that’s what you two want to do.”

  “Come on, Mo, don’t be the party pooper,” Ann pleaded. “Let’s go. We’ll have been sitting down all day.”
/>
  She sighed. “Okay.”

  “Let’s eat supper out,” Andrew suggested, then his eyes narrowed as he looked past Mo. “Oh, I want you to meet someone.” He grasped Ann’s arm and pulled her away.

  Mo tutted. “I guess we’ll be eating supper out. He could have—”

  Papa and Peggy joined them. Now Mo understood why Andrew had beaten a hasty retreat.

  “The food is better this year,” Papa said.

  “The lemon cake was delicious.” Peggy’s smile was strained. “I wonder if they served the same cake back home.”

  “What sector do you come from?” Les asked.

  “D7.”

  “Not far from Government Hall.”

  Peggy nodded. “Most of the support staff is from D6 and the surrounding sectors.”

  Mo scrambled for something to say, so she wouldn’t appear rude. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a researcher.”

  Papa’s face lit up. “That’s how we met.” Mo’s jaw tightened when he slipped his arm around Peggy’s shoulders, then she felt bad when he quickly dropped it, though she appreciated the gesture.

  “I was assigned to a committee your papa was on.” Peggy’s gaze shifted to Jayne. “What sector do you live in?”

  “E6,” Jayne said.

  Mo gave Peggy a point.

  “Can I speak to you for a moment?” someone behind Mo asked, though the question wasn’t directed at her.

  Les looked over her shoulder. “Excuse me,” she said, then walked away with Laura.

  “We should move on, too,” Papa said. “I want to introduce Peggy to a few more people before the afternoon program starts. Will we see you at supper?”

  “No, we’re going out with Andrew and Ann, then to the Dance Hall.”

  Peggy raised her brows. “Sounds like fun.”

  “It does,” Papa said. For a moment Mo thought he’d suggest that he and Peggy go dancing, but he said, “We’ll see you inside the tent,” and steered Peggy away before Mo had a chance to say good-bye.