A/N: In this chap, we kind of get introduced to Ian. Uh. have fun with that. R&R! Thanks! -Mac
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter. :(
Chapter Seven
Brunch And A Fitting
Well, brunch this afternoon was interesting. And when I say interesting, I mean boring. Really boring. This brunch is always boring. Yes, it's another one of my mother's annual--and I do mean annual--holiday traditions. It's a day early this year because my mother has some charity thing down for tomorrow. This brunch is for the older VIPs--the sort who no longer fair well at parties after nine 'o' clock. So instead of forcing them to attend the lovely Christmas Eve Bash, she set up this brunch.
If you have ever spent two and a half--almost three--hours with a group of elderly socialites that you don't really know or care for, then I feel your pain. If not, I hate you. Not really, but I strongly dislike whatever dose of normality you may have in your life. I wish I had that. When I have children, or rather if, I will do my best to never put them in a position where they would have to endure this kind of torture. That means there will rarely be a visit to grandma's. Hey, they're going to thank me for it later.
The brunch itself was nice. Beautiful restaurant. Delicious food. It was just the boring people who ruined the experience. I mean really, who wants to hear how fifty different old men made their first million? Or how fifty different old women were able to snag a millionaire for a husband? Please, I have better things I could be doing.
I could tell Ginny was having a rough go of it. She had a shorter attention span than I did and I was conditioned for this kind of thing. She looked like she was going to fall asleep on her feet on more than one occasion. It was a relief for both of us to get out of there.
My mother had scheduled a fitting, for me and Ginny, for the formal dresses she had picked out for us. The two of us went directly to my mother's favorite dress store from the restaurant. I think my brothers get kind of jealous when I get to leave for a fitting. They have all the suits, jackets and formal wear they need for the rest of their lives. My mother, Maddie, Chrissy and I get new dresses for each and every party. One of my mother's rules. We were never allowed to wear the same dress twice. That was tacky. It made our family look as if it couldn't afford a new dress. And that is not a good look.
I have never enjoyed formal wear. I don't really like dresses particularly. But I must say, my mother has good taste. The dresses she picked out were gorgeous. Mine was strapless, a mauve and silvery color, and long--to the floor. Ginny's was a deep, forest green, spaghetti strapped, short--it flared out at about her knee--dress.
We got dressed and stood on podiums in front of full length mirrors while the two women, who ran the place, made slight notes and measurements. It wasn't going to take very long, but still Ginny struck up a conversation while the ladies worked. It was nice for a little while, which was a relief. I also got to spend some time with just Ginny--which I would have been doing right then if we hadn't come to New York.
It was nice, yes, until she brought up Ian. It could only go downhill from there.
"Tell me about this Ian guy." Ginny said.
"What about him?" I asked, allowing the topic for now.
"Anything, everything. What did you like about him? What kinds of things did you do together--when you were friends?" Ginny clarified.
"Ian was a good guy. Hell, he was the good guy. We grew up when everybody thought being a tough, bad boy was appealing--at least at our school. Ian was the only guy who didn't follow that trend." I smiled at a thought that crossed my mind. "Ian never really followed the crowd. I didn't either--I think that's what attracted me to him. We were alot alike. And he was different.
"I remember this one time, I think it was fifth year, this awful hairstyle caught on. Everyone thought it was just the hottest thing. All the guys were getting into it. It was popping up on every guy in our school. Everyone in school, except Ian. The looks he got were hilarious. I just never understood it. The look was horrible--totally ugly. I think Ian looked great without it."
"Sounds nice." Ginny nodded.
"It was. Like we said before, we did everything together. Absolutely everything. We told each other everything--well we did, up until right before we broke up. We kept secrets and it sort of destroyed our trust and our faith in each other. He was just so much of my life. It was hard not having him. Like there was this empty void in my life--this gaping hole. But I got over it. Eventually."
I was getting to the point where I didn't want to talk about him anymore. I was getting to the part that it hurt to talk about. It was bad enough that in just over three days I would have to deal with his physical presence. I didn't want to break down before that even happened. I needed to get out of this conversation. But Ginny had other plans.
"What's your favorite memory with him?" Ginny said.
"As friends or as a couple?" I asked.
"Doesn't matter."
"Hmm. I don't know. There are so many good memories. It's hard to decide which would be my overall favorite." I explained. "I have many special memories--but none more special than the others."
Ginny was silent for a moment, but then asked a question no one had ever asked me straight out. "Did you love him?"
My mouth opened to answer, but no sound came out. My body tensed slightly and I nearly shut down. That was not a question I was prepared for. I was not ready to answer it. I closed my mouth abruptly and shook my head.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore." I said softly. "I can't talk about it anymore."
"Are you going to be okay with him being around?" Ginny questioned, turning to look over at me.
That was a good question. I wish I knew the answer. I was going out of my mind trying to figure out how to handle Ian coming home. I could barely think straight when it came to him. If I couldn't even think, how can I figure out how to deal with him? I couldn't. It wasn't possible.
So would I be okay? It all depended on how you defined okay. There is okay, yes-I'll-be-so-excited-when-he-gets-here. There is okay, if-I-have-to-tolerate-him-I-will. And then there's okay, like I am, where I feel like I could scream or possibly throw up just thinking about it. So yeah, maybe I was okay--but not okay okay. I was just the okay where I could be worse I was the okay where I say I'm okay just to make everyone around me, who is concerned, feel okay.
Maybe I would feel better if everyone didn't keep bringing him up. I need at least a day to process. I needed to cool off and to do that I needed to stop thinking about him. That was proving hard to do. Just like back then when we were friends Ian still meant so much to me. He was slowly creeping back into my system and refusing to leave. I could barely get the idea of him being there out of my head and Ginny was not helping.
I had thought this trip was going to be hard when I thought it was just my mother and my dysfunctional family I had to worry about. The revelation that Ian had finally returned home after years--just in time for my mother's showcase of society events--was just another heap of worry on my plate. Add a scoop of unnecessary inquiries and a dash of Ginny's trademark nosiness--or curiosity as she calls it--and I have the perfect feast of problems. Just like too much food on an empty stomach can be a pain, tons of stress in my life after nearly a year of none--completely void--was giving me hell. I couldn't stand it. It was just too much for me. I couldn't take it.
So maybe I would be okay, after the whole idea sunk in. I didn't know I couldn't predict the future. There may be people who could, but I was not one of them. I never really paid attention in Divination. I just didn't know.
Ian always was the kind of person who surprised me at every corner. I could never tell how he would change my world each week. Each day even. I never knew what he was going to do or the reaction I would have to it. Now was no different. I was surprised alright and I had no idea how I was going to feel.
So my answer to Ginny, the only one I had, "I don't know."
It was practically making me sick to my stomache thinking about it. I didn't want to feel this worried, this anxious. But I did, and I doubted it was going to go away. At least not until I was safely back at home in my flat in London. Back in my stress-free--or rather majorI-stress-free--life. Then I would feel better. Right now, though, I still had a week and a half before that happened.
Ginny nodded silently, accepting my answer. I think she may finally have realized there are just some topics people don't want to touch on. Or not, she is Ginny Weasley after all. Apparantly, she was one of the biggest gossips in her school--after Lavender and Parvati, whoever she is, graduated. I've met Lavender, and the first thing out of her mouth was some juicy tidbit of gossip she had picked up in her office. Ginny could be like that sometimes. She like to know everything, talk about everything and share everything. I, on the other hand, was not like that and never would be. I liked a certain sense of privacy.
I would rather keep my thoughts and feelings about Ian to myself. I would handle it--I would. I just needed some time--though I only have a limited amount. I would figure this out. I would.
