Oh my. How long has it been? Over a month? –dodges pelts of tomatoes and rotten bananas-
I'm soo sorry for the delayed update! School's been busy, and life has been, well, life. But I hope the lateness of this chappy won't keep you from enjoying it.
Chapter 3
Tea Time Gossip
"You made dinner reservations where!"
Al yelled, nearly deafening my right ear. Even though I was in a phone booth, I was sure the people outside heard his exclamation. I swear, sometimes his voice is loud enough to make the dead turn over in their graves.
"Bella de Villa," I pronounced slowly into the receiver.
"Bella de Villa!" Al gasped, sounding like someone had slipped ice cubes down his pants. "Bella de Villa! Are you serious!"
"You sound shocked." Well, I guess I wouldn't blame him. See, Bella de Villa is the most distinguished restaurant in the entire city for its top of the line culinary: sated shrimp, juicy meats, alluring wines and sweet delicacies. Once you've eaten there, it'll leave an unforgettable impression on your taste buds- you'll be craving more for weeks- but it also leaves a huge hole in your wallet. Trust me, a place like Bella de Villa is what I call elegantly expensive and I promise you I'm not exaggerating. I knew a guy who went there once; he went in with a pocketful of money but left with a huge check of debt.
"How can I not be? I mean, can you cover the expenses?" Al asked. "That restaurant isn't exactly your ordinary buffet."
I don't really like to brag about money, but somehow I accumulated enough to last me until retirement. "I'm sure. I got my paycheck last night, so it should be able to pay for Rose and me."
"You're... taking Rose?" The shock in his voice wasn't too hard to miss at all. "Brother, you're actually taking my advice?"
I shrugged, realizing he couldn't see that type of response over the phone. "Well, yeah. I thought about it last night, it has been a while since I've spent some good quality time with her. Besides, she told me once that she's always wanted to go there-"
"Was she happy when you asked her about it?"
"Thing is, I haven't told her about it yet," I said, tapping my fingers on a phone book.
"How come?"
"Well, I want to see the look on her face when I do," I replied, visualizing that picturesque smile of hers. Not to be biased or anything, but Rose has the loveliest smile you could ever set your eyes on. I mean, the way her whole face lights up the moment that grin graces her lips- it's indescribable. "In fact, I'm on my way to tell her about it right now."
"You are?" he sounded confused. "But then, how are you talking to me at this very second?"
"I'm in a phone booth," I explained. "I'm waiting for the bus to come so I can get to Rose's house, but it's taking a while so I decided to call you." I watched the bus stop, hoping that monstrous vehicle to come by soon. "Dammit, I wish it'd hurry up already."
"Patience is a virtue." Those are wise words that mean nothing to my impatience.
"It's also a royal pain in the ass," I scoffed, glancing at the time on my pocket watch, which read a few minutes to eleven. As if on queue, I saw the bus making its way towards the stop. "Oh hey, there's the stupid thing right now. Listen Al, I got to go."
"Me too," he responded. "I've got a class in five minutes- lucky you, you have today and tomorrow off!" Mondays and Tuesdays are my days off from work, which is great because I get to start the week off with two days of doing whatever I feel like doing. "Spend them wisely, brother."
"I will," I promised, bidding him good-bye before hanging up and stepping out of the booth. Like a massive wheeled-giant, the bus rolled in, coming to a screeching halt at its designated area. A wave of people busted out of the open doors as more swarmed the entrance to get inside. I waited for the last of the passengers to step out, reaching inside my coat pockets to fish out some spare change that I hoped to find so I could pay the bus fare.
Luckily, I pulled out a few coins from one pocket, but from the other, I came up with something that distinctly did not belong to me; a crisp, white handkerchief, lace trimmed around the edges. I recalled that it was Winry who had given this to me just yesterday after getting splashed by that goddamn car. Obviously, I had forgotten to give it back to her. In fact, I forgot that I had the handkerchief in the first place. I hadn't the slightest idea how the hell it ended up in my coat pocket.
"Sir, are you going to board or not?" the bus driver asked me, popping a bubble he blew from his chewing gum.
"Oh, right." Quickly, I stepped inside, dropping a few coins into the slot. I took the first empty seat I saw, which was right behind the driver, and sat down with the handkerchief still in my hand. The lady sitting across from me looked at me funny; her brow was furrowed as though to wonder what I would be doing with a laced handkerchief. I started folding it so I could put it back in my pocket, but as I did, there was one little detail I hadn't noticed until right then and there: in one of the corners and beautifully embroidered in a light blue was the name Winry Sullivan. It looked very simple, yet held an august elegance that gave it that feeling of authenticity.
"Winry Sullivan…" I mused to myself, running a finger over the thread's texture. Come to think of it, Winry never mentioned her last name to me… but, she'd probably want this back. I mean, it must have some importance if she went through the trouble of getting her name stitched on it. She never said I could keep it anyways, so I should return it to her.
I looked to the driver, asking, "What's the next stop?"
"At Benson," he replied from behind the steering wheel.
Benson? That's where Winry's shop is, or at least that's what I think she told me when I first met her, and it's also on the way to Rose's house. With this little fact, I planned to make two trips going down one route. Folding the handkerchief neatly and slipping it into my pocket, I decided that I would simply stop by whatever place came by first: Rose's house or Winry's shop.
Moments later, the bus came to a noisy halt where I was the only one to get off. I found myself standing on a borderline between two very different looking worlds; to the right side was a neighborhood swimming in tangible luxury: big houses, and unbelievably expensive cars; to the left stood old apartment complexes rotting from use and time, litter and waste blowing wistfully into gutters. There was a man not far from where I was standing, waiting in front of a small shop. His torn clothes didn't seem to suffice for the chilly wind, and a scowl was set on his face as he eyed my coat. Uneasily, I started heading in the other direction, which led to Rose's house before an exclamation caught my attention.
"Ah, bless her soul! She truly is a one of a kind, that Winry." Another man, clothes torn and worn, walked out of a shop with a radio tucked underneath his arm.
The man who had been glaring at me earlier looked to his friend eagerly. "What? How much didya have to pay?"
"I didn't have to- she told me the repair was for free! I tried offering her some money anyways, just 'cause she's got a kid of her own that she's gotta support, but she wouldn't take it." The radio was his prized possession as he looked at it, grinning from ear to ear.
"She's very generous; Winry sure does have a charitable heart."
"No kidding!" The two of them started off, music drifting along with them as they toyed around for a station.
Curiously, I wandered in front of the shop the men had come from; wondering whether or not it belonged to Winry. It was pretty small, sandwiched in between a rundown building and an abandoned one. The words Rockbell Automail and Parts was painted along the window as automail arms and legs hung fashionably behind it, assuring me that I had come to the right place.
I pushed open the door, and somewhere above a bell dinged. The smell of oil and metal invaded my nostrils, more parts decorated the walls. I swear, it was like I had stumbled into a mechanic paradise: buckets full of bolts, nuts, and screws, wrenches and screwdrivers shining behind display counters, as well as a few tools I had never seen before in my life.
Faintly, I heard coughing coming from the whereabouts of the backroom, followed by a, "I'll be right there!"
"Alright," I called back, marveling at this interesting piece of machinery next to the cash register. There was a small crucifix humbly hanging on the wall in front of me, and I noticed a few medicine bottles scattered along the counter. I never got to see who or what they were for as Winry appeared with green bandana holding her hair back, wearing beige pants and a black top.
"Edward," she seemed surprised to see me.
"Hi Winry, I hope I'm not bothering you," I said as she shook her head.
"No, not at all! I just finished a repair I was working on."
"Speaking of which," I leaned against the counter, "I overheard some of your customers talking about your service."
Winry wiped her fingers with a nearby towel, a bemused grin set on her face. "Oh? What did they say?"
"Something about getting a repair for free and, from what they mentioned, I'm assuming that you're the definition of generosity."
"Well, even to the poorest of the poor," she tossed the towel aside, "I believe in service to everyone."
I shook my head as I walked around the room. "Noble answer, I'll give you that."
She chuckled a bit, keeping an eye on my footsteps. "So Edward, what brings you here?"
"Well, I wanted to-"Her eyeing turned into a rather fixated stare directed at my left leg, analyzing every move I made. "What?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Oh, nothing…" she flicked her eyes up. "Sorry…"
It was right there when I should have told her about the handkerchief, but I noticed some missing company. "Where's Jonathon?"
"Hm? Oh, he's at school."
Typical. I mean, it is Monday. "Oh right, right. What grade is he in?"
"Second…" A frown laced was laced upon her brow as she watched me tap my foot on the floor. I grew uncomfortable under her scrutiny, feeling like I had my fly open or I had walked out in public without my pants on.
"Really? I… I would have thought he was is in-"
"Take off your pants."
The order was so sudden, I wasn't sure if what I heard held to be true. I blinked once, twice, perhaps three times with my mouth hanging open.
"W-what?" my voice cracked horribly.
"Your foot," she pointed to the indicated body part, "it's automail, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but what the hell does that have to do with taking my pants off?" I asked, still gaping at her little outburst. "And how'd you know it was automail?"
"I can tell by the sound of your footsteps," Winry replied, rolling out a chair for me to sit on.
"Okay, but you still didn't answer my first question."
"I want to check your automail. Something doesn't seem right with it."
"My automail's fine. There's nothing wrong with it," I should know, I'm the one with the automail.
"I assure you there is," she challenged, unconvinced of my rebuttal. "Don't be so stubborn, Edward."
"I'm not being stubborn!" Why was I picking a fight with her?
"Yes, you are," Winry said, standing her ground as she thought of a convincing reason. "Come on, could you at least roll up your left pant leg? The check will only take a minute. It won't hurt, I promise." Her eyes watched me as her ears stood ready for a hopeful answer. I stared at my foot, debating with myself whether or not this whole thing was necessary.
"Alright, alright fine," I sighed, giving in and sitting on the damn chair. I kicked off my shoe and pulled up my pant leg, exposing a pathetic piece of automail. The junk isn't exactly the best work. The guy I got it from wasn't what you call a professional at automail, and it's so hard to find someone who knows how to deal with the stuff.
But Winry was a different story; I had a feeling that she knew exactly what she was doing. She analyzed every detail, from the metal itself to every little screw, rotating and straightening my foot as though she were trying to find out how it worked. I patiently waited, and after more speculation, she finally came up with her prescription.
"Well, Edward, it looks like you need new automail. The one you have is getting pretty rusty, and it seems too fragile to put up with intense movements or impacts. Not to mention, it's quite heavy." She pointed to some automail displayed on the wall. They were new, extravagant looking compared to what I had. "If you want, I could give you that new model I've been working on."
I unrolled my pant leg, saying, "Let me think about it for a while, but if I do decide to get new ones, you'll be the first one to know."
"Ok then," she nodded, suddenly going into a mild coughing fit.
"You alright?" I asked, a little alarmed. "Do you need water or anything?"
"No- no, I'm fine…" she faintly smiled, straightening her composure. "It's just a small cold, that's all… So, what did you come here for again? I interrupted before you could tell me."
"Oh, I wanted to give you something," I pulled out the handkerchief from my pocket, and handed it to her. "I believe this is yours, Winry Sullivan."
Her smile turned into a firm line. "…Sullivan… That last name doesn't belong to me anymore, so now I've gone back to my maiden name, Rockbell."
I knew the subject should've been dropped, but my mouth was too persistent to ask, "Oh, so you're a widow?"
Winry's eyes flashed dangerously like I had opened a healing scar. "What makes you think I'm a widow?"
"W-well…" I froze under her icy glare, sinking into the springs of the chair. "I don't know- it's just I thought you were because you said… er…"
Suddenly, her face changed; her eyes grew distant, her lower lip began to tremble. It was as though she was fighting with herself to keep some pain and regret inside, but failing horribly against an unattainable poignant memory. She turned away, becoming fascinated by a crack on the floor.
"No…" she replied quietly. "I'm not a widow…"
"Oh…" was all I could afford to say. I felt like a goddamn idiot for even asking her something so personal, delving too deep and prying information I should have left to curiosity's wonderings. I didn't know what I could say to lighten the heavy weight in the air, so I sat there, fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. God, I'm an idiot.
"So, Edward," Winry croaked, rubbing her eyes, "are you sure you don't want the automail?"
I nodded, standing up awkwardly. "Yeah… at least, for now I am…Listen, I've got to get going. Thanks for the check and all." I headed towards the door, stopping half way. "Hey, Winry?"
"Yes?" she said, her eyes puffy from unshed tears.
"I-I'm sorry," I apologized like the dumbass I was. "I didn't mean to ask you that- I didn't know-"
Winry shook her head, putting up a faint smile to show that it was ok. "It's alright- just forget about it… I'll see you later, Edward."
"See you, Winry." And with that, I walked out the door, guilt breathing down my back. In a way, I wished she would've started yelling at me instead. It would've been better than to have her grin at me like that, like I had done nothing wrong when really, I had caused enough damage.
-
You have no idea how much of a stupid bastard I felt after that. Embarrassment was snickering at me, accompanied by its loyal companion Humiliation; even the people on the sidewalk seemed to be laughing. I practically sprinted to the front door of Rose's house just so I could get away from it all. Ringing the doorbell like some fiend, I waited impatiently for someone to open the door. There were footsteps from within, a few voices here and there before one of Rose's house maids answered, a congenial woman by the name of Clara.
"Hello, welcome to-" she squinted, pushing up her round spectacles as she looked at me for a moment, disbelieved at who she was seeing. "Mr. Elric, is that you?"
"Hi Clara," I greeted. "How've you been?"
"Wonderful, and how about you! It's been ages since the last time I saw you! I almost didn't recognize you because it's been so long! Anyway, would you like to-?"
"Clara, who's at the door?" Rose appeared by Clara's side, peering outside, but once she saw me, surprised overwhelmed her facial expression. She opened the door wider, inviting me inside. "Ed! What're you- what are you doing here?"
"Well, I wanted to-"I had only set a foot into the premises when she yanked me by the arm.
"You have perfect timing!" she happily said, leading me through the house. "My friends and I were just about to have tea."
"Which ones?" I asked. See, Rose is very sociable in her church community with an abundant amount of acquaintances and friends to form her own society. I've met a few of them, but there's so many, it's hard to keep track.
"Josephine and Isabelle. I want to introduce you to them," she replied as we somehow ended up on the patio in her backyard. In the middle of it was a table big enough for four in which two people had already occupied half the space, both women with contrasting physical statures. One was very petite with brunette curls and red lipstick, the other was rather heavy set, fingers as thick as the biscotti she was eating and a multiple number of chins. But despite that, they shared the same similarities; they were both wearing every type of jewelry: necklaces, earring, bracelets, and rings. The word 'rich' was stamped all over their fur coats and it didn't take much to see that these women were bathed in luxury.
"Rose," the brunette said, her pearl necklaces glinting in the sun, "is this your fiancé that you've been talking about?"
"Darling, if he is, then you are right- he is handsome!" the plump one exclaimed, sipping her tea.
"Yes, this is my fiancé, Edward," Rose introduced as she indicated to the woman with the red lipstick. "Edward, this is Isabelle." Isabelle took her attention away from the ring on her finger towards me.
"And I'm Josephine," the other said, imposing her own introduction. "Nice to finally meet you- Rose talks about you all the time."
I had a sudden feeling that whatever Rose mentioned about me wasn't always flattery. She probably complained to her friends how I don't spend enough time with her or something.
Rose blushed a shade darker as she seated herself. "Well come on Ed, take a seat."
"Yes darling, don't be shy," Josephine added, patting the empty chair next to her.
"Oh no, that's ok," I said, shaking my head. "I have to… go somewhere." Truth be told, I didn't want to join in this tea party. It wasn't that I was rejecting some time to spend with Rose; it was her friends I felt a little iffy about. I don't know why, but I was starting to feel some disliking towards these two.
"That can wait," Isabelle chimed. "Come, come join us."
"I'm sorry, but I really-"
"Edward," Rose hotly said, shooting me a sharp glare.
"Rose, I only came here to-"
"Sit. Down."
The way she had said that made chills shiver down my back. I never knew her to be so… scary like that; it was a side of her I hadn't seen till that very moment. So, like an obedient dog, I did what I was told, scowling at the scones and teacups on the table.
"Right then," Josephine licked her fingers clean of any biscotti crumbs. "So, Edward darling, how come we never see you at church? Rose goes all the time, but you're never there."
Isabelle seemed absolutely delighted by the question. "Yes, I've noticed that as well."
"I don't go to church," I replied, preferring to be blunt. The two of them exchanged glances as Rose sipped her tea like I hadn't said anything at all.
"You don't? Darling, why not?" Darling. Geez, I wish she would stop calling me that. It makes me sound like a pet or something.
"Well, I'm not a religious person, and I don't believe in a God." A mortified gasp swept through the table, murmuring that I had said something forbidden.
Rose cleared her throat, holding a basket of scones. "Um, would anyone like some?"
"So, you're a… atheist?" The word seemed taboo to Josephine. I nodded, which only made matters worse as Rose's friends eyed her, disapproval evident in their furtive stare. I hadn't the slightest clue as to what they thought of me by now- they were probably wondering why Rose intended to marry me at all- but it didn't matter. I just wanted to tell her about the restaurant and leave.
"Hey, Rose can I speak to you for-"
"Anyways-" interrupted Isabelle, her diamond earrings twinkling vibrantly in the sunshine, "you'll never guess what I heard about Father Collins."
Josephine went back to stuffing her mouth with more teatime delicacies, eyes wide with anticipation. "What did you hear, darling?"
"Rumor has it he's having an affair."
"An affair! How scandalous! He's a priest for crying out loud!" exclaimed the plump one, Rose looking on with interest. I on the other hand, could care less as to what these women were talking about. I'm not one to believe in gossip, it's just shitty chit-chat to liven conversation, but Josephine and Isabelle were like vultures, feeding upon any fresh rumor their ears happened to tune in. I swear, there must've been some gossip radio broadcast that they listen to because they knew everything about everyone.
I was about ready to leave when Josephine put her two cents into the rumor bucket. "But speaking of affairs, I heard about one that happened to… what's her name?" She snapped her fingers, trying to think of the face she couldn't label. "What is her name? Darling, Belle, you know that one woman with the blonde hair, blue eyes? She's got her own shop or something…"
That sounds a lot like Winry, I thought as Isabelle contemplated the information with her identity database. She was quick and within seconds, she was able to distinguish the name. "Oh! Oh, do you mean… Winry Sullivan?"
"Yes, that's the one!"
"But I thought her last name was Rockbell," my wonderings slipped off my tongue, my mind replaying that pained expression on Winry's face.
Rose shot me a curious look. "Wait, who are you talking about? Who's this Winry person?"
"Why, you've seen her before," said Isabelle.
"She and her son with all those freckles always sit in the back at church?" elaborated Josephine, tutting at Rose's blank expression. Church? Oh, I see; Winry must be Catholic. That explains why she had that crucifix in her shop- "Anyways, I heard that husband of hers, something Sullivan, had an affair. There are some stories going around that say she found him in the middle of a heated passion with a woman he met at work. Winry got mad at him, told him she'd never want to see his face again, and you know what? The very next day, he left her. He packed his things, ran off with that other whore, leaving Winry to take care of her son all by herself."
"He left her?" Rose repeated, crestfallen. "What a shame. I don't know what I'd do if I were in her position. It's so sad…"
"Yes, yes, terribly indeed," Isabelle said, sounding more sarcastic, less sympathetic. "But I heard from someone that she's already moved on to another man. He's some doctor-"
"A doctor!" exclaimed Josephine, pouring herself a cup of tea. "My, my, she's a real go getter for ones with the money."
Rose listened with interest, watching in the same way an apprentice studies their teacher as her gossip buddies proclaimed more lies. My mouth twitched, remarks itching to get out of my mouth.
"I wouldn't blame her. You know she's a mechanic, which isn't exactly the best profession out there, especially for a woman."
"Darling, no wonder she smells so ghastly, like motor oil and steel."
"And have you seen those horrible stains on her clothes? Not to mention, her hands are smeared with grease."
"How can she live like that? It's practically inhumane!"
"Well now that she's with that doctor, she won't have to worry about her current lifestyle. She could just ask him to buy her something-!"
There was a loud clatter of silverware as I stood up, knocking over the half-empty tea pot and spilling the lukewarm contents inside it. Isabelle and Josephine jumped from their seats, squealing in fright of spoiling their silk blouses, all the while Rose glared at me with malice.
"Edward," she growled, "what do you think you're-?"
"I'm leaving," I said without a hint of an apology, the other two gaping at me. "Thanks for the tea." With that, I made an abrupt sweep to the front door, getting away from the pointless conversation, this rumor infested company. Sure, I might not know Winry too well to justify her name, but it didn't take a rocket science to figure out how much of a bitch Josephine and Isabelle were. I mean, how much did they really know Winry? Not much if you ask me. They're just making assumptions, false accusations about someone they barely even know. Geez, I swear, if you were to stick me on a remote island with the two of them, I would rather be fed to the sharks than have to tolerate their impudence.
"Edward!" Rose called, in a hot pursuit after me. She tracked me down when I was a yard away from my escape, using herself as a barricade to block my route out. Her face was scrunched up in anger, cheeks flushed by embarrassment. Without a doubt, I knew she was downright pissed.
"Edward, what on earth is your problem?" she demanded.
"Oh nothing," I said, casually, "except that, you know, I can't believe you have friends like bitchy and bitchier who have nothing else better to do than talk shit about other people."
"What!" she howled, a few housemaids gathering to see what all the commotion was about. "You barely even know them, and you're the one who's telling me this nonsense? What has gotten into you? It's like you're turning into a whole different person each time I see you! Besides, why did you come here anyway?"
But I didn't bother answering the question; I just wanted to get out of there. Pushing my way through and ignoring the abundant questions and demands of Rose, and forgetting to ask her about the damn restaurant, I kicked the door open and left.
I can't believe it's already April. Am I the only one who's shocked that it is?
Anyway, about the FMA OVAs… what do you all think? I thought the chibi one was wicked hilarious, and the grandkid one was too cute for words. I still wonder how Ed ended up with grandkids that look exactly like him, Al, and Winry… Oh, and that Homunculus vs. Alchemist one was soo awesome.
And one last thing, has anyone seen commercials for that new anime adult swim's gonna show? Eureka Seven I think it's called. Do you think it's gonna be a hit or a miss?
That's all I've got for today folks. Till next time!
--WaitingWishing--
