Well, if you wanna sing out, sing out.
(Set in season two, sometime after A Tisket, A Tasket.)
Content
He's smoking his third cigarette; she's lying with her head is his lap, reading Nine Stories. His eyes are calmly moving from side to side and you can tell he is reading it, too. The water underneath them reflects the obscure overcast above, but she enjoys the gloom. It's the perfect reading weather, she'll say, while he will just smirk and nod in agreement.
She places the book face down on her stomach, looks up to meet his eyes and says, "What are you doing?"
"I'm not doing anything."
"You were reading over my shoulder!" she laughs.
He exhales a breath of smoke, "Was not."
She sighs dramatically and comfortably sets her head back in his lap.
He says, "We're all animals. Basically, we're all animals," she smiles.
"I knew it."
"It's Salinger. You of all people should know that I couldn't resist a Salinger novel to save my life."
She nods.
- - -
Hours pass, and the two of them are in a comfortable silence, as still as statues. She's finished the book, and he's finished however many cigarettes were in the pack. Her head is resting on his shoulder as they both stare at the slow moving water beneath their feet.
"Are you happy?" she asks, her eyes still glued to the water.
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"Right this moment? This very second?"
Finally, she looks at him, "Jess."
"Yeah, I am."
"Me too."
"C'mon," he says, standing up gently, "I'll bet you are itching for a cup of coffee. We'll go to Luke's."
"No, it's okay. I'm meeting up with Dean in a few."
A momentary flash of disappointment emerges in his eyes, but he says nothing.
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
He nods, "Bring Franny and Zooey."
She shakes her head, "Thursdays are devoted to Ayn Rand, Jess."
"Then Hills Like White Elephants on Saturday."
He radiates a charming smile and she caves, "Fine."
Neither of them want to part with the satisfying feeling of content that engulfs them when they are together, but they each give a small wave to one another they go their separate ways.
