by Brock Law
Martha’s lips rose slyly. She arched her eyebrows with equal pressuring, which made Will look away bashfully. Awkwardly, he stood as Martha dove back into her dealings. He picked up the bags and made his way out to the balcony.
First clearing his throat to disturb Vivienne’s meditation, Will said “Hi.”
Vivie’s nose pushed back a sheer scarf and she replied with parched voice, “William, hi!”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“A little better I suppose,” her sore throat announced unconvincingly. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Will said with doubt.
Vivienne nodded and looked away. She drew her shawl closer to her skin, and crossed her arms over her chest. Again, her gaze shifted towards the sunset.
Will piped up, “I brought some things for you.”
“Something for me?” Vivienne replied with a subdued tone of excitement.
Will carried the bags over to her and explained, “I was helping your dad straighten up the house from the break in. He asked me to pack some stuff up for you. I hope you don’t mind me going through your room. He just said to grab whatever looked comfortable.”
“I don’t mind. That’s very sweet of you, thank you,” said Vivie.
“I brought you this too. I thought it might help you pass the time,” Will added.
He handed her the black journal.
“My journal,” Vivie said with happy sincerity. “Oui, passes time.”
“They overturned your bookshelf when they were searching the house,” Will continued. “I tried to get everything back in order the best I could. All your journals were in pretty good shape, just some bent pages. I saw this one on the desk with a pen still inside. I figured it might be the one you’d want.”
Vivienne opened it and smiled when she saw he had clipped the pen right where she had left off, “It is. Perfect. Thank you.”
“I didn’t read any,” Will clarified, feeling intrusive, “because…you know…it’s in French.”
Vivie giggled, “That’s okay. I wouldn’t mind so much. No one reads them but me.”
“You sure have a lot of them,” Will prompted.
Vivie shrugged modestly. “I like to write.”
“What do you write about?” he asked.
She looked up. “All kinds of things. I thought perhaps my life might make a good story someday.”
Will joked, “When is someday?”
She giggled again, “I don’t know. Maybe soon.”
“William!” Martha, yelled from inside. “Sorry, I’m done!”
Disappointed, Will shrunk. “Well let me know if you need anything else.”
He turned and began to walk back inside when Vivienne called out from behind. “Wait, Will!”
He stopped, “What’s up?”
Her mouth quivered as she spoke, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
He came back to her, “Nothing I guess.”
“Would you come visit me?” She blurted out. “It’s just that everyone is preparing for the trip, and I don’t want to be a burden. I was hoping you might bring some lunch, and help me to exercise, maybe? You said you are good with injuries.”
He paused, internally thrilled but outwardly cool, “Yeah, I could do lunch.”
“Good,” she said looking relieved.
Feebly, Vivie tore a page from the back of the journal and uncapped the pen. Her hands rattled as she scrawled some wavy numbers across the sheet.
Vivie offered him the slip, “Here is my number. Call me when you are coming.”
“You bet,” he responded, and backed away.
Before ducking back into the room, Will waited for her face to turn back to the horizon. He folded up the little scrap neatly, and slid it into his pocket. As he came across the carpet, Martha kicked one foot up over her knee, and held a hand to her forehead. The other reached for her coffee cup and lifted it to her mouth. Will sunk into the chair next to her.
“Heavens! People don’t get their morning coffee, and you’d think the world was ending. Dear me, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t use expressions like that,” Martha corrected.
After taking a big swig, she placed the cup back in the saucer and turned to Will. She reassumed her matriarchal serenity and reached out with her hand.
With each word she tapped his knee reassuringly, “But how are you feeling darling?”
“A little bruised, but I’ll live,” Will answered.
“Glad to hear it,” Martha consoled, and then seemed to stall as she retrieved her coffee. “I owe you thanks for bringing my husband back to me in one piece. He’s far too cavalier sometimes. The struggle was recounted to me as if he were back in uniform. He tells me that without you, the whole evening would have been a miserable failure.”
“I don’t know if I would call it a success either,” was Will’s sullen admission.
Martha flattered again, “Well, certainly we would not otherwise have our dear Vivienne back. That’s what’s most important.”
Will nodded humbly, realizing the magnitude of the deed. Martha reclined with her drink and used the distraction to scrutinize the young man. The liquid flowed evenly across her lips without her missing a single twitch or tell.
“But don’t you worry,” Martha refreshed the topic, “the Grail is another matter. We will have our chance at reclaiming it. It would not have strayed into the wrong hands unless it meant to reveal some great potential yet untapped. Worthiness is about resiliency in the journey, William. It isn’t something you’re born into, and it isn’t something you can study.”
Will nodded again, now with some guilt as he perceived what she was doing. “It would be impossible to proceed from here without giving up my life. The team is depending on me. My parents are depending on me to do well this semester.”
“Mmm, yes,” Martha murmured as she calculated. “There certainly are a lot of people depending on you, aren’t there?”
His head bobbed along to the rhythm of her rhetoric. It was harder to look at her as she spoke. Martha’s case was honest and encouraging. He couldn’t say no.
Martha followed in a soft and courtly manner, “If Ben were here he’d be spouting off some home brewed quotation to you no doubt, but I’m sure you’ve had quite enough of that already. Whatever it is that you believe, William, apply it where there is the most need. What other reason is there to hold it so firmly?”
Will implored, “How would I get around telling everyone? Grail quest isn’t exactly a legitimate leave of absence.”
Martha contemplated for a moment and recalled, “You are in business school, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Will stuttered.
“Well then, I’m sure we can think of something,” Martha pledged.
Will’s acknowledgement dragged across a sustained and distressed exhale, “I’ll have to think about it.”
“Do,” she said and patted his knee again, “but don’t take too long. We haven’t any time to lose.”
Will couldn’t push the issue with her anymore. He wasn’t talking to Martha the kind old lady, he was talking to Martha the CEO. She wasn’t going to let anything as trifling as mortality stand in the way of molding him into a better man.
“Go on and clear your head then,” Martha urged. “I’ve got to clean up my affairs before we leave as well.”
She led him back to the door. Will looked out to the balcony again as he left. Vivienne was still pining towards the horizon.
You May Delay, But Time Will Not
The following day, Will rapped again on the door of George and Martha’s suite. This time there was only a light shuffle on the other side, and then the lock turned weakly. The door cracked open and Vivienne peeked out at him. When she recognized him, she beamed excitedly.
With a raspy voice she said, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
She opened the door fully and showed off a pair of white pants, yellow t-shirt, leather sandals, and a floral scarf covering her neck and shoulders. She popp
ed a pair of big sunglasses on her face, and fixed a wide brimmed hat on her thoroughly brushed hair.
“I’m all set,” she said with a pose.
“All set?”
“To go.”
“To go where?”
“Out!”
“Out? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I need exercise. Martha has had me locked up for three days,” Vivienne explained.
“Where is Martha?”
“Not here.”
“Oh no,” Will exclaimed, “I’m not breaking you out.”
“I’m going out whether you like it or not, so if you don’t want me getting in any more trouble you’re going to have to be my escort for the afternoon,” she said precociously.
Vivienne snatched up a purse from the table, and slung it in the crook of her elbow. She twirled around and slipped through the closing door, allowing it to lock behind her before Will could protest further. Her legs quivered and buckled from the abrupt maneuver, which caused her to immediately lose her balance. When the door snapped shut the handle bumped her waist, sending her stumbling into Will. Just as she was about to collapse into a fashionable mess, he caught her and scooped her up off her feet. Carefully, he steadied her back on her heels.
“Vivie, you can barely walk,” Will said.
“Which is why I need to get out of bed,” she implored. “Please let’s go? Just around the square.”
“Just around the square,” Will submitted.
“And somewhere to eat; I am hungry,” she added.
Will glared at her, as she glared at him behind her determined-looking sunglasses. His stare broke with a complimentary air. He couldn’t help but like the spunky mademoiselle.
“Alright, come on,” he replied.
She shifted her weight again, planted herself, flung the scarf
