Sunday was arguably not as good as drunk Carol had made it out to be.

It wasn't like their schedules didn't line up, or anything like that. But with a day to ponder the prospect of touring around this woman, of which she had only known for a collective thirty minutes—at best—Carol found her anxiety ramped up unusually high. "Let's see," Carol mumbled into her coffee, the self-criticism just as bitter as her lukewarm beverage. "You're a thirty-year-old woman getting anxious because you agreed to meet up with a woman who can't be any older than twenty-five. What's wrong with you?" The sigh was sharp, the noise that bounced around the room as Carol practically slammed the cup down even sharper.

Her phone was charging on the countertop, and Carol snatched it to take a quick glance through her contacts. Therese's number sat somewhere in the middle. Carol thumbed over the keyboard absentmindedly. They had shared one text conversation since that night at Gertrude's, and that had only been Therese asking if Carol had gotten home alright.

It wouldn't hurt to remind Therese about today, of course. Or even give a gentle reminder that she totally didn't have to do this at all, that if Therese was creeped out, then this whole thing could be called off.

[Carol Aird – 10:09 AM]: Hey Therese … Just wanted to ask if u were still interested in coming out w/ me today? :)

The message looked unthreatening, and it certainly didn't give off the air of unease. Good enough for Carol, who promptly hit send. With no more time to second-guess herself, Carol carried her phone with her to slink back to her abandoned cup of coffee.

Her lament hadn't lasted for all that long before Carol's phone vibrated, with what could only be Therese's response.

[Therese – 10:13 AM]: Oh, yes. Of course!

[Therese – 10:13 AM]: Were you planning to pick me up? I can send you my address. Actually, hold on…

[Therese – 10:14 AM]: Click link to view.

Carol allowed herself a congratulatory sip of coffee, almost immediately reprimanding herself for thinking a damn sip of bean juice could be considered a reward in any fashion. Or that she even deserved a reward in the first place. Because what, she hadn't been flat out rejected? Congratulations, Carol, you've accomplished nigh nothing. Well. If nothing else, she now felt considerably more awake than she had in the past ten minutes. And Therese's apartment was pleasantly close to Carol's own place that (hopefully, she prayed to whichever deity she had yet to piss off) traffic wouldn't be much of an issue.

[Carol Aird – 10:15 AM]: Yes, I can pick u up from there :) How do you feel abt being picked up 12:00? If that isnt too early.

[Therese – 10:15 AM]: That will do wonderfully. I'll meet you outside at 12. :)

Well, that appeared to be that. With just under two hours to spare, Carol supposed that she may as well stop lamenting over the world (in other words, herself) and its mysteries (in other words, her choices made in a high-end bar off the edge of Manhattan) and finish cleaning up. A sigh escaped her before she forced the final drops of coffee down.

After a good twenty minutes of fussing around with clothes, Carol took a quick glance at herself in the mirror. She looked decent, perhaps a little overdressed for the situation (it wasn't as though Carol planned to take Therese to dinner, though it was a concept she didn't mind entirely). It'd have to do for now because if Carol knew herself well she figured she'd get sucked into a thought that would cause her to show up late.

Go figure.

Carol had left the house ten minutes later than she planned. Seeing as how life had its 'quirks', otherwise known as a penchant for ruining her, she pulled up to Therese's apartment nearly a half hour later than what she'd intended. Therese was leaning up against the wall of her apartment and staring contemplatively, almost contentedly into her phone.

"Hey Therese," Carol called out, poking her head out the window. Therese looked up, smiled, and bounded towards her.

"I almost thought you were ditching me," she admitted sheepishly. As though it would have been her fault for thinking that way. It was now Carol's turn to offer up a sheepish smile.

"God, I'm sorry. Here, hop in." Therese did, and began to do her seatbelt. Idly, without thinking too much of it, Carol took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit up. "Therese, you've eaten already, haven't you?"

The seatbelt clicked into place, and Therese turned to look at Carol. "Oh, actually. I hadn't, not quite yet. I only woke up the moment you texted me."

"Would you like to?" Carol wasn't going to be the one to take 'no' for an answer, not now. She had already started to drive, just as Therese hummed a note of affirmation.

Carol nodded in turn. Traffic was starting to pick up, but Carol found that with Therese by her side, she couldn't have really cared how long it took to get there. The only thing she wished for was something to fill the silence, other than the background noise of a Sunday morning and a lazy tune playing on the radio. But what could Carol say? To talk about? She ground her cigarette butt into her ashtray and absentmindedly tapped a finger against her lips.

The two of them found a diner that Carol had never seen before in her life, and it felt right. Therese seemed pleased enough as they sat. "Have you done anything interesting since Friday?" Carol asked after a moment of silence.

"No, not me." Therese pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm still getting settled. It's been a while since I had to move, I forgot how… How it feels. I suppose I'll have to go job hunting sooner rather than later…" Their eyes met, and Carol grinned.

"You're not from New York, right?"

"I'm Czech. Meeting Richard was more chance than anything else, really. We just happened to be visiting Paris at the same time," Therese mumbled, looking down into her lap. "And now I'm here."

The waitress came to them wearing a smile oozing with superficial pleasantries. She wore the kind of smile that could only be held up with twelve shots of Botox and the weight of her sins. "What do you want to order?"

"Therese?"

"Oh. Um." Therese fumbled to take a quick look at the menu, much to the waitress's irritation. "Eggs with bacon, er. Scrambled. With… With coffee. That's it." An awkwardly lopsided grin graced her features, and the waitress took the menus without a word.

Therese stared at her backside before she turned to make a face in Carol's direction. Carol asked, "Your Richard is an illustrator, yes?" The interest she held for Mr. Semco was a slim nothing, but she needed to ask something.

"He wishes," Therese said with an impassive shrug. "He's not very good." She paused, then sighed. "I suppose that makes me a bad wife, doesn't it? Women are supposed to support their husbands."

How Carol would have loved to say something against it, but since when did she have the right to speak? Oh, Harge, it's fine if you miss our anniversary for your corporate meeting. Rindy won't miss you. New Years? It's fine. I'm fine. How she hated how amenable she'd been back in the day. Perhaps one day, Therese would think the same thoughts. Carol toyed around with more reassuring phrases in her mind. "I'm sure he loves you," she settled for instead.

Therese snorted in response, as if to say 'That's all he ever says'. Harge had been like that too, once upon a time, and Carol found herself relating more and more to her plight. Arguably, that was not something she should have been doing.

"Anyways," she continued, "What do you want to see? New York has lots to offer, although I admit that the charms start to wear off in the first week."

Therese caught Carol's grin, and she grinned back. "I don't have a place in mind—I suppose I should have thought of that before I left the apartment, hm?"

"Well," Carol spoke, just as the waitress turned round to set down the meal. A quick and polite thanks (one that had been acknowledged with nothing more than an uncaring groan), and Carol's attention was back on her. "You do photography, right? I'm sure you could find something to photograph in New York. Weird things have been happening far too long and with far too little camera attention on it."

She giggled, almost on the verge of spitting out pale yellow egg.

"We have museums, gardens, hell. You could probably take a picture of a crowded street with a last-generation camera and still make it look good."

"Oh, I'd like to see the gardens." There had hardly been a pause between them. There was an unspoken thought as well; 'I'd like to see all of it with you'.

"There's a ton of gardens out there. Have a particular one in mind?"

Therese giggled again, and what a lovely sound it was. "Aren't they all the same?"

So they went to the gardens. Plants and flowers, they seemed nothing more than niceties to Carol in the past. Therese must have regarded them as more or less the same, and yet Carol found herself enjoying a walk in the sun more than she should have

Carol kneeled down to inspect a patch of tulips, and she had only seen the light reflecting off the camera as she turned back around. "Oh gosh," she grinned, raising her arms in a halfhearted attempt to conceal her face. "I didn't know today was picture day."

Therese paused for a moment, seemingly unsure if she was being toyed with or not. "I should have asked first." She looked down at her camera. "Sorry, I won't develop that—"

"Shh. Don't worry about it," Carol spoke, rising to her feet. "Show me the photo when you can, won't you?" Therese nodded fervently.

They ended up taking a few more photos that day, some of which Carol posed for, but for the most part, Therese wanted to keep the photos candid. It was starting to grow into a habit, Carol peeking over her shoulder to see if there was a camera pointed in her direction.

"What kind of camera is that?" Carol asked, peering over Therese's shoulder as she exchanged film. "I was under the impression that photographers didn't use film anymore."

Therese didn't look up, "It's a Canon IIF Rangefinder."

"Which means?"

"Oh." She paused, just for the slightest of moments. "It's an old camera from the early 1950's. Rangefinders are probably the best cameras out there for street photography—says an unnamed photography blogger, anyway. Film photography is something I've been doing for a few years now, I even learned how to develop my own film. Our new apartment has a dark room. The uh, place where you develop photos."

"From the 1950's, huh? How interesting." Carol hummed and pulled away. "How'd you manage to get your hands on one of those?"

"A wedding gift from Richard's father. He says his father used to be a photographer, and that I might have some use for this old thing." Therese pushed the film into place and closed up the camera with a satisfying click. She waved the camera in front of Carol with the faint inklings of a smile. "Here, let's try something."

Therese shuffled over to Carol's side, and held the camera up, facing them. "I haven't tried taking a selfie with a rangefinder before. The settings are all manual, it might not even look good…"

"Take the shot," Carol said, and Therese did. There was no click of the shutter, but she seemed to deem the photo as taken, and she let out a satisfied huff.

Turning back to Carol, Therese shoved the Canon back into her bag. "That's that," she said.

"When do you think your studio will be set up?"

"I don't know, Wednesday at the very latest? Probably sooner, I just need to get the chemicals in some time."

"Do you think I could come over sometime and see the place? I'd love to see the photo as it's being developed, and I want to know more about what you do. If… If that's alright, of course."

Their gazes met, and for a moment, Therese looked like she'd been tossed out of some far-off corner of the universe, and that her landing had put her in a daze. That kind of distant look that said she was distracted by something, distracted maybe even by Carol. And she watched expectantly as Therese's gaze shifted back into focus. "... Yes. I'd love that."

Carol grinned. "You're a delight, Therese Semco. You know, we should do this again sometime. Not the gardens thing, not immediately. We could go for lunch. Maybe you'd like the museums."

"We could bring Richard along," Therese added, as much as Carol hoped that she wouldn't. And as soon as that thought entered her mind, Carol pushed it away. Those were the intimations of a feeling she had thought she was through and done with. Those were the intimations of a feeling that she was not going to allow herself to feel, not now.

"We could," she said. How she wanted to say that she didn't want Richard there. But she only knew as much about Therese as one could in a day. To become so clingy now, what kind of grown woman did that? She couldn't even begin to imply that Richard's presence was unwanted. "Just let me know whenever you're free."

Therese must have caught the nuance of her expression. How could she not? Carol was nothing if not obvious. "I will," she said finally, and looked out ahead of them. Into the sun that wasn't quite setting, but almost there. "I should get going. Richard's just as bad as a nanny when he's worried."

"We should get going, then."

As Carol drove Therese back to her apartment, she found that she was deliberately stopping herself from taking the extra glance in Therese's direction. For a reason she knew only vaguely, a reason that she preferred not to name.

Carol did look her way once when she sounded out a giggly little "Click!". Therese was holding up the camera, wearing a look that promised nothing but more images to come. She couldn't poker face for much longer, and Carol grinned.

She'd never really been comfortable with her photo being taken before.

For Therese? She could bear it.