In All of Infinity

by H. R. Holt

  “So, glad to see that you have met Reverie without us having to introduce you,” Danielle said and smiled.

  He looked at Reverie, his dark eyes staring into her blue, and raised an eyebrow. “Reverie?” he teased. “What kind of name is that?”

  She shrugged and looked at her food, then looked at him and shrugged again, “A name and nothing more.”

  “While a rose is but a flower, and a heartbeat is but a sign of life,” he said and blinked at his own choice of words.

  Reverie stood, took her food that had hardly been touched, and shouldered her bag. “I’ll see you later, ladies. I have to get ready for my next class.”

  Isaac watched her go, knowing it would be a bad idea to follow her. He couldn’t understand what was taking place in his own heart, nor could he explain it to anyone else. As he began wondering if she felt the same, she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled with her eyes. He thought about her name, and realized all that she had in common with Penelope was that both of their first names contained the same amount of vowels. Penelope was a nightmare; Reverie was a dream come true.

  ***

  Reverie Reagan sat in the back for most of her classes, quiet and attentive. She had plenty on her mind, but she couldn’t seem to get to them past the fog that was Isaac Partridge, the only boy who seemed the slightest bit interested in her. She had never been interested in anyone with light brown hair, even when she was crushing on Hollywood men. She liked them with dark hair and blue eyes and a considerable amount of maturity, but Isaac possessed none of these qualities. He had a boyish charm, as if he were going to pull a frog from his pocket any second, but that was far from what she wanted. She desired someone who was like her father.

  The last class that she had for the day, science, ended at 3:30 with her wishing she had eaten more of her food. She was starving. As she walked across the campus lawn, the cool wind of August drifting all about her, she found herself thinking of her mom. She had never met her, but knew that she had died this month…the month of her birth. The first day hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought it would be, especially with the clothes that she had to wear. She couldn’t wait to go home and change her clothes.

  Reverie heard laughter and looked up briefly, spotting Isaac and his team standing beside a burgundy Mercedes Benz roadster. He was at the passenger’s side, his hands in his pockets, and his legs crossed casually at the ankle. The wind was tossing his hair slightly and he laughed when a bang tumbled into his eye. She realized she should turn before he looked in her direction, but it was too late. He looked at her, smiled brightly, and all she could manage was a raised eyebrow. There were more pressing things to do today than smile at strangers.

  She had told the Brevard twins that he was a stranger, she remembered, but they had merely giggled. There was no doubt in her mind that they both idolized him, and there were hardly any students who didn’t. Reverie heard good news about him no matter where she was, no matter who she spoke to. Isaac was perfect, often raised to a height she couldn’t believe anyone could be at, and that was why she detested him. If there was any form of magic being used, it was brought on by his smile and demeanor. He could get along with everyone because of it. She wasn’t about to fall into his trap.

  When at last she was safely on the sidewalk, she pulled out the book she’d been trying to read at lunch from the bottom of the stack she was holding. It was a rather large pile, with five books, two notebooks, and her assignments. She had been the only one in her class to take notes, but that was due partly in fact to the fact they didn’t care.

  As she opened the book, she began thinking what Isaac had said to her. So what if she liked animals? It wasn’t as if she were the only one in the world who did. As for watching movies, she had seen plenty and was currently hiding a secret crush for Clark Gable from her father. Was it that obvious? She didn’t like the Tarzan comment either. She talked when she needed to, and babbling wasn’t something she ever planned to master. Isaac could talk all he wanted, but she wasn’t going to listen to him.

  Reverie hadn’t walked far when she heard a car come up beside her. She paused with the book in her hands, clenching her teeth, and stared along the sidewalk. She knew who it was without having to look, and wished he would leave her alone. If there was anything that she detested about the day, it was ever having met Isaac Partridge. Of course, she hadn’t been the one who’d walked into his life; he’d walked into hers.

  “Reading again?”

  Reverie ignored him and continued walking, but he drove along slowly beside her. She began whispering the passage in the book about the black bear, knowing she would have to read it later to understand it. She could sense evil thoughts trying to sneak into her head and, try as though she might, she couldn’t get them to stop forming. She wanted to leap at him, tell him to leave her alone, but she remained calm.

  “Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride. That stack looks very heavy,” he said with laughter in his voice. “Are you the doctor’s daughter?”

  Reverie looked at him and her arms suddenly gave out, causing her to drop everything she was holding. As she got down on her knees to gather everything, she heard him get out of his car, slam the door, and rush over to help her. She rolled her eyes at his laughter, wishing he would stop making fun of her.

  “I don’t need your help,” she said and swatted at his hand when he tried to pick up one of her notebooks. “If I did, I would ask for it.”

  She looked up at him as he bent over his knees, looking down at her, smiling. For a second, time seemed to stand still, and then it shattered and punctured Reverie’s very nerves.

  “I don’t need your help,” she quietly repeated and began putting everything into the stack. She paused when she realized he wasn’t saying anything. “I’m sorry if that offends you.”

  “Why do you think that offends me? It’s not like you’re my girl,” he said sincerely.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away. When he got back in the car, Reverie stood and looked at him, at the solemn expression on his face, and realized that he was hurt. He started his car, ignoring her completely, and gulped sharply. She wanted to say that she was sorry but the words died in her heart. Instead, she watched him drive away, wondering if she had been completely wrong about him.

  ***

  When Reverie at last arrived home, she stopped in the yard and looked at the house. She had been living here her entire life, but she was always mesmerized by it. The architecture was completely different from the way the buildings on campus looked. When she had first seen the schoolhouse, she had decided then and there that, if the place was modern, she wasn’t.

  Reverie found the key under the doormat and went inside. Walking over to the living room to put down her books, she realized how quite it was. Since the man of the house wasn’t due back for a few hours, she knew she had the place to herself. She wasn’t going to stay inside, though. Where her father was prone to sitting still for hours on end, she always had the urge to move. She took hold of the animal book and headed for the door.

  “Glad to see that you’re home early.”

  She froze with her back to the staircase and hand on the doorknob. The voice wasn’t masculine in the slightest, but feminine with an accent that emanated class and authority. Reverie had met her only a few times, but Virginia de Marlowe was pompous and cruel. She wasn’t only cruel to people, mind, but animals as well. Every outfit she wore seemed to be cut from an animal’s hide, and she knew how badly Reverie detested her.

  “Virginia,” the young animal activist said and turned, a forced smile on her face. “How did you ever get in?”

  The older woman examined the younger, taking in every curve of her young body with her feline green eyes. Everything about Virginia spoke strictness of bearing: her fair hair pulled into a tight ball; her clothes without wrinkles; her makeup without a single smudge; and even the way her smooth hand pet the fur of her white mink coat. She was elegance, Emmanuel
claimed, and the kind of woman he wished Reverie would become. The phrase his daughter had written in her diary was along the lines of, ‘I’d rather stop breathing than become anything like her.’

  “We both know your father, darling,” she said, accentuating each syllable of the title. “He is oblivious of others actions and obvious with his own. Where else would a simpleminded man place it?”

  Reverie felt rage growing in the pit of her stomach, thinking how wrong Virginia was about her father. He was not naïve in the slightest, merely disconnected sometimes from someone’s true intentions. Not always, mind, but there were moments when she knew he didn’t understand others. He knew her well enough, but he couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind the actions of the Marlowe’s of the world.

  “I’m not going to stay long,” Virginia said at last, standing only inches from Reverie. The height difference between them could be seen in that instant: Virginia, who stood 5’3, was staring up at Reverie, who stood 5’7. “I need you to give this to him. Do you think you can do that?”

  Reverie looked at the piece of paper held between two pale fingers whose nails were painted in deep red, tried to keep from vomiting because of Virginia’s perfume. She didn’t ask what the paper was for and merely nodded. How hard was it to deliver a message to her father? Couldn’t Virginia have found the time out of her busy life to drop by the hospital instead of coming to the house that was further away from her own place? If that was being complex, Reverie knew she would rather stay simpleminded, especially since it took a shorter amount of time. Of course, knowing Virginia, she was probably planning something rather inappropriate that couldn’t be displayed in a public place.

  “Good day,” Reverie said and took the piece of paper.

  Virginia’s eyes roved over the younger girl’s body, remembering how she had been a late bloomer, and envied the doctor’s daughter for developing so swiftly. She didn’t appreciate having such a figure. There was something tomboyish about Reverie, almost as if she would rather roam around in the woods, collect fallen leaves in her hair, and crawl around in the dirt to pet the smallest animal. She was probably just like her father, always thinking there was something more to life than what was revealed, as if earth were a mystery. Still, she was fourteen, and her body was as voluptuous as Virginia’s (if not more so), and that was enough for spitefulness to strike at the older woman’s core.

  Reverie walked outside and stood on the front porch, wondering why she hadn’t realized Virginia’s car parked in the front. She was like her father in that respect: able to get lost in thought and make the world disappear. Although she knew she had to work on this, her main concern at the moment was having her father place the key somewhere else. She didn’t want to see Virginia roaming around in their home, the very smell of her seeping into the furniture and decimating beauty with her touch.

  After Virginia left, Reverie decided that her venture into the woods would have to wait. She took the key and placed it on top of the doorframe, stretching to her tiptoes as she did. Since she was taller than Virginia, the place would prove best for now.

  As Reverie stood looking up at the frame, she began wondering how many men she knew who were shorter than she was. Father Brevard, standing a measly 5’6, often looked at her and laughed, remembering when she was ‘knee high to a grasshopper.’ She couldn’t help being taller than most, but her father was the same, which accounted for her height. Today she had stood beside a wiseacre in science class with large glasses; a bulky football player in math; and Isaac who was, luckily enough, taller than she was. She didn’t feel like a freak when she stood beside him. Was that why she’d remembered his name?

  “So this is where you live?”

  Reverie turned quickly and saw Isaac walking towards her, his hands in his pockets. The twin Brevard girls were seated in his car, giggling about something. They had no doubt been the ones who’d told him where she lived. She didn’t know if she should hate them for all eternity or thank them for bringing him back into her life so soon. For some reason, he was very intriguing and she found herself pulled to him, almost as if he were the sun and she was the earth. Or was it reverse? With the way he looked at her, she couldn’t find that hard to believe.

  “Nice place,” he said and looked at the house, his hands in his pockets. “It’s really…” he looked at her and smiled sincerely “…beautiful.”

  “Why are you here?” Reverie asked and made her way down the steps. When she was inches from him, she stopped and looked at the twins who remained in the car, giggling. She began wondering if she were going to regret his finding out where she lived.

  “I came to apologize. I’m a jerk sometimes and I know it. Will you forgive me?” he asked and stopped smiling. “Please?”

  Reverie looked at him, wondering why he was apologizing. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Was he trying to make her realize that she’d been the one who needed to ask for forgiveness by playing innocent? She didn’t know him well enough to know his intentions, and began thinking she was like her father in that way as well: disconnected from others.

  “Tell the twins I’ll see them tomorrow,” she said and started back up the steps.

  She looked at the front door, wanting desperately to take refuge inside. The furniture wouldn’t make her question herself, her chores wouldn’t, nor would her homework. Wasn’t she the jerk? Hadn’t she been the one who’d been angry with him for trying to help? Hadn’t she? What about today at lunch? He was trying to start a conversation and she had been distant, wanting to be alone.

  When she reached the porch, she turned and stared at Isaac’s back as he made his way to his car, his hands remaining in his pockets. He’d tried to placate the situation, but had been unsuccessful.

  “Isaac?” she called.

  He looked over his shoulder before turning completely, knowing what she was about to say. He fought the smile that threatened to come to his face, realizing how serious she was. He merely said, “Reverie?”

  “I will see you tomorrow as well, if that’s ok?” she asked, not making eye contact. She gulped and looked at him, a small smile reaching her face. “I mean, is that ok? I am the one who should apologize, and I do…apologize. I know you think that I was rude today. I’m sorry if you think that’s the case. I tend to be the…way that I was…today.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and smiled brightly. At the back of his mind, he couldn’t help thinking how perfect she was today, just by being herself.

  “Good day,” she said and walked towards the door.

  He laughed slightly, realizing how good his day had been, and how wonderful tomorrow would be. When he got back in the car, he realized the twins were giggling still, staring at him. There was something they weren’t telling him, but nothing could affect him right now. With the image of Reverie’s beautiful innocence in his mind, he started the car and backed away, wishing he had known who lived in this old house before today. He couldn’t help thinking that today was the most wonderful day of his life, and that there would be more days to come.

  ***

  “How was your first day?”

  Reverie looked across the table at her father, wishing she could tell him about Isaac. He wouldn’t take to her liking someone who was so completely unlike them. She blinked and wondered if she had amorous feelings for him, but knew instantly it was because she’d made a friend. As a matter of fact, he was her very first friend who was a boy and not a girl. She was thrilled.

  “I have tons of homework,” she answered and took a bite of collard greens. Although she was the cook of the family, trying to make them both live healthy lives, she was getting tired of eating greens. “I wasn’t much for the outfit they had us wear, really. I also met a few people. I mean, you know, other than teachers.”

  Emmanuel raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  He remembered seeing her change of clothes when he’d stepped into the house only an hour ago, almost found them comical. She was dressed in an old pair of
dungarees, a white blouse, and a black pair of lace-up oxford shoes. Despite this, she hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting anyone. He realized she must have met someone, surely, but she usually stated the names of those she met. Not doing so made him wonder who.