Disclaimer, Daria and all characters created by Glenn Eichler for the MTV series are the property of MTV. This story belongs to no one. Anyone who wishes to increase, edit, or embellish this story is welcome to do so, as long as it is not for profit.
We only hurt the ones we love.
Chapter 6:
In order to have full loads of similar clothes to wash, I convinced Jane to let me take most of the dirty laundry from her room...thankfully, she seemed relieved by the offer. Now, as I sorted the colors from the whites from the delicates, some of the finer differences in our lifestyles lay apparent before me. While I wore plain white panties and bras, Jane wore much frillier and more colorful underwear; Lacey bras, panties in varied cuts all in a vibrant rainbow of colors. The panties Jane had lent to me – which I had reluctantly tried on – was a perfect example; more rectangular in shape, than my triangular panties, and in a shade of blue that matched her eyes. Wearing them, however, I had to admit – while strange fitting at first – the way they sat lower on my hips was quite comfortable. In sharp contrast to her underwear, Jane's choice in clothing was vaguely androgynous, totally devoid of feminine tailoring or detail; straight lines to match her lithe frame in severe colors. The dichotomy between under and outer garments was striking and to me more than a little bewildering.
With the sorting completed and the delicates washing, I headed up to the kitchen to search out the cookware needed to prepare dinner. Pots in place, utensils at the ready and with fifteen minutes remaining til the current load of wash finished: I headed upstairs and showered. Clean, re-energized, far more relaxed after my shower and – once more – clothed in Jane's loaners, I returned to the kitchen to find Trent just arriving and in the process of placing the groceries onto the counter.
"Hey, Daria, got everything on the list including the sandwich fixings...here, even have a few dollars left over."
"Normally, Trent, I'd say just keep it, but Jane was adamant about refusing charity. I don't want anymore awkward situations over money; Trent, what do you suggest we do?"
"Well, I don't want to speak for Janey, but something happened to her last year – as a freshman – that's made her, really, touchy about accepting gifts or trusting people. Seems Janey became friends with another freshman at school and the girl ended up spreading rumors about her being poor and needing help. Janey was stung by the betrayal...it, really, hurt her; the girl offered her a couple of outfits that Janey had only accepted so as not to offend the girl. I'd appreciate it, if you wouldn't mention it to Janey...unless she brings it up. Like I said, she's still touchy about it...actually, I was surprised to see you in Penny's room, you're the first person Janey's hung around with in months. I'm glad she's ready to try the friendship thing again."
"Trent, thanks for taking me into your confidence. It's hard to explain, but I'm glad Jane's ready to try the friendship thing again, too. Being with Jane just feels right, our strengths and weaknesses compensate each other; the ways we think, though vastly different, just mesh. What you've told me explains a lot, trust me, I wouldn't hurt Jane."
As I unpacked the groceries, Trent looked, thoughtfully, at me for a moment, "It's cool, Daria...hey, can I help you with anything?"
"No, Trent. I've got it. But, if you wouldn't mind, you could save Jane and I some time after dinner by doing the dishes...I promise there won't be many left to do; I tend to clean up as I go. That way Jane can get to her homework, I'd sort of offered her a hand with history...okay?"
"Yeah, not a problem...okay, I'll just head upstairs and leave you to it." That said, Trent turned and strode out of the kitchen and up the stairs as I headed to the Basement to start the next load of wash.
There's a reason Chicken Cacciatore is so popular, It's quite a simple dish to prepare. Since Trent had gotten boneless, skinless Chicken breasts, the time cubing, sauteing and simmering the ingredients took less than twenty minutes; so by the time Jane returned from her run all that remained was to drop the egg noodles into the already boiling pot of water. The aroma wafting from the simmering meal acted like a beacon and Jane was presently at my side inhaling deeply and making unmistakable "yummy" noises.
"Enjoy your run, Jane?"
"Yes, it really helped, cathartic actually. Look, I'm, really, really sorry."
No one will ever accuse me of being a huggy, touchy-feely sort of person, but, hearing the tone of Jane's voice screaming need and apology far more strongly then her words ever could; I, spontaneously, without a thought, turned and wrapped Jane in a strong, reassuring embrace. Feeling Jane tense noticeably my reaction was to lessen the intensity of the embrace – stupid acting without thinking, then, just as I was about to release my hold, Jane relaxed, Gently placed her hands on the small of my back and melted into our now mutual embrace.
After a long moment I pulled back slightly, placed my hands firmly on Jane's shoulders and looking her purposefully in the eyes: "Jane, apology not necessary, we're good...okay?"
Jane smiled, then with a sniff and a slight quaver in her voice responded: "I am now...thank you, Amiga. I'm so glad I took the chance and invited you to sit with me, like I said earlier, I really need a friend."
"Me too, Jane." The sound of a bit of the vigorously boiling water spilling over the top of the pot and hissing on the hot range top like an angry snake, forced me to step back, turn and return my attention to our nearly ready meal.
"hope you're hungry, dinner's almost ready."
"Oh yeah, I'm starving! Do I have time to shower?"
"Well, it'll take ten minutes from the time I drop the noodles into the water til dinners plated and on the table. How much time will you need?"
"Ten minutes is perfect, drop the noodles. I'm outta here." With that said, Jane was gone. From how quickly the sound of her foot falls retreated, I imagined she'd be at the table before dinner was served.
Amazing! Jane had said she was starving, but watching her attack her meal was – indeed – a sight to behold. She had already eaten more than Trent and I combined and was going back for more; How could she be so thin and eat like that...it was, simply, amazing. It was also a clear sign that the confident, reassured Jane was back, all the unpleasant moments forgotten, we were on the same wavelength again; how that thought brought me comfort.
With dinner finished, Trent, dutifully, cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and started on the few remaining pots; Jane, meanwhile, went to retrieve her homework. I was actually looking forward to the task at hand; History was one of my strongest subjects in school...not to mention my favorite. Then a thought occurred to me, a simple, inspiring thought, a thought that instantly brought a beaming smile to my face: Jane and I – quite possibly – come Monday, would be going to school together.
As we began Jane's homework, it became obvious that while History captivated me; it, simply, tormented Jane. Studying the Kansas-Nebraska Act was not, strictly, homework, but rather cramming for a test to be taken tomorrow.
"Jane, what notes have you taken for the test? Do you have any idea what kind of questions your Teacher might ask?"
"Well, my notes have something about "popular Sovereignty, trans-continental railroad, bleeding Kansas and Republican Party" but, honestly, I have no idea what they mean."
"Okay, the first two were goals of the Act, the last two were results of the Act. Basically..."
Thirty minutes later, Jane was nodding her head, the look on her face showed she was now comfortable with the material.
"Okay, Jane, explain to me, in your own words, the basics of the Kansas-Nebraska Act and their impact on the country?"
"Oh, goody, a pop Quiz." Jane joked sarcastically "Let's see, "Popular Sovereignty" meant each new territory would vote whether they would enter the Union as a free or as a slave state. Since the Kansas territory had been decreed a free territory in the Missouri Compromise, folks in the northern states were pissed and formed a new political party. This new Party, the Republicans, main goal was the total end to slavery; this, in turn, pissed off the southern states. As a result, both sides sent settlers in droves to the Kansas territory, in order to win the free or slave vote. Since neither group could stand the other, the territory quickly devolved into a preview of the civil war referred to as "bloody Kansas". Then in 1860, the settlers voted Kansas would be a free state and the Republicans won the Election for President. Now, with the Southerner's realization that "Popular Sovereignty" had been a big miscalculation on their part, they threatened to succeed from the Union if Abraham Lincoln – the Republican – became President. That done all that was left was to hop on the roller coaster ride ending at Fort Sumter."
"Good! Unique use of words, but you've got the concepts down. Is there any other homework we can work on?"
Jane smirked at me "Thanks, but that's everything. From the smile on your face, you are really enjoying this...planning on becoming a teacher?"
"No. I just can't help but feel happy, do you realize that me might – quite possibly – be going to school together come Monday?"
"No, I hadn't. But now that you mention it, you're right, it will be great...you, me and Quinn."
At the mention of Quinn's name my smile lost its intensity; this didn't get past Jane and she gave me a quizzical look. "Jane, I know you said that you and Quinn where not friends, particularly, but, please, help me out here, all I know about Quinn is her name and what she looks like, tell me something about her?"
"Daria, she's your Sister, you've got to know her better than me."
"The last time we were together, Quinn was a spoiled, self-centered, attention craving, totally normal five year old; I was not quite seven and her polar opposite. My memories are limited and fleeting at best. Jane, you must talk some with Quinn, you told me you share three classes. Trust me, anything you can share would be new to me."
"Spanish II and Gym don't give us much of an opportunity to talk, but occasionally we speak in Art. I can tell you this, Quinn doesn't make friends easily. As a matter of fact I can only think of one...Stacey Rowe, and that is unusual. Stacey – for years – was a human door mat, a hanger-on of local Fashionista, Sandi Griffin. Stacey was meek and spineless, wouldn't say poop if her mouth was full of it...the perfect little sycophant; then along comes Quinn, who somehow – in a matter of weeks – constructs and installs a backbone into Stacey. A couple of weeks ago Stacey just stopped hanging out with Sandi, since then she and Quinn have been close. Oh, Quinn also likes to design and sew clothing, from some of the clothes I've seen her wear, she's quite good. Also, from the little we speak, she's really intelligent; possibly straight-A smart."
"That's not the Quinn I remember, but I like what you've told me. It's funny how having grown up separately, we seem so similar. Thanks Jane."
"No problemo, mi Amiga."
"Hey, do me a favor, write down your class schedule for me. That way, if everything goes as hoped, I can try and be placed in classes with you."
"Yeah, sounds great." Jane had been looking at me the entire conversation, but now here gaze became more probing, like something was different and she wasn't sure what. "Ah, that's it. Your hair, you had it done in a braid earlier. Don't get me wrong, you've got nice hair, I just think the braid compliments your face better."
"I prefer it that way as well, just wasn't enough time to braid it after my shower. I think I'll wear it down until after I shower tomorrow. That way the braid will be fresh and tight."
"Being the youngest Sister meant that I had to do a lot of grunt work for my older sisters. They both kept their hair long in high School and wore it in braids. They'd bribe me to braid their hair by letting me use their make-up or give me lipstick. Three or five strand, French or Dutch Braids, I can still do it in my sleep. Tell you what, I think a five strand Dutch braid would really fit you; let me braid your hair tomorrow, after I get home from school, then you can head off to meet the Family."
"Thanks, Jane, but I've decided to, first, go meet my Mom at her work, after lunch, then the rest of the Family. Mom's the tough one, best her first. She works at a law firm downtown, "Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Schrecter "."
"Not a problem, I'll just do the two fingered, tonsil tango before lunch, Since it'll be Friday fifth period, the Nurse will just send me home. I'll be missing Spanish, Gym and Art, but they're my best classes; so skipping them won't be a problem. Also, coincidentally, they're the classes I share with Quinn, probably better that I'm not there; don't think I'd be able to look her in the face, knowing you're here at my place. Than I braid your hair and we'll go to your Mom's work; I'll be there to offer moral support...well, at least some kind of support." Sensing my unease, Jane continued: "Plus, I know how to get to your Mom's work, Look, I'm your friend and I'm concerned for you, there's no reason for you to be alone and vulnerable...come on, I want to help."
Knowing anything other than assent would be lying, I truly wanted Jane's company and strength, searching for guidance Proverbs 17:17 came to mind; it was an easy decision.
"Jane, Proverbs 17:17 teaches us "A friend loveth at all times; And a brother is born for adversity.", I couldn't pray for anything more than to have you by my side tomorrow. I can't promise tomorrow will be pleasant or go smoothly, but I can tell you I'm grateful...thank you."
"My pleasure, now if you don't mind it's almost eleven and if I don't get at least eight hours sleep I get, really, grumpy. So, g'night Morgendorffer."
"G'night, Lane, see you in the morning" with that we made our way upstairs.
Having set the alarm for 6:30am, by seven, when the sound of Jane's sock clad feet could be heard, slowly padding on the floor upstairs, the aroma of fresh coffee, turkey bacon, fried eggs and blueberry pancakes were already sufficient to guide her downstairs. Knowing Jane was not expecting breakfast and still had to complete her morning ablutions, daily hygiene and to dress, our conversations were basically monosyllabic and confined to pleasantries; nonetheless, Jane still barely had time to shout goodbye to me as she tore down the stairs and flew out the door for school.
Having retrieved the remaining clothes from the basement, folded them and placed Jane's on her bed, I was now staring down at my meager selection of clothing trying to choose what ones to wear for today's reunion. The blue denim skirt seemed a bit casual and the khaki slacks were definitely so, that left my black, pleated, just below the knee length, wool skirt; it'd need ironing but I had the time, so Black wool skirt...check. Likewise, my button front shirts were more casual than dressy, so that left my rust colored tunic top...check two. Now that left my emerald green sweater or the forest green loden jacket to complete the ensemble. The sweater is nice but not dressy, the loden jacket, however, not only is it classic, it goes nicely with the skirt. So green loden jacket...check three, done. Hanging the tunic and jacket in the closet I considered just how badly my skirt was in need of ironing.
Remembering seeing the ironing board yesterday in the basement, I headed there to retrieve it and the iron. Fortunately, it was only nine in the morning because the ironing had, obviously, not been put to use for many years as the thick coating of dirt and grime attested. After removing the cloth cover from the ironing board frame, taking it outside to shake the dust free and then back to the basement to hand wash it: wearing Jane's sweats again this morning proved a good choice. As the cover spun in the dryer, I wiped It's frame and accompanying iron clean. Thirty minutes later, with the cover dry and reattached to the frame, the original task of pressing the pleats of my skirt could finally begin.
After a blessedly long soaking shower, towel drying and combing out my hair, I returned to my room to get dressed. Wearing my chosen outfit, sans loden jacket, I was just tying my shoes when the sound of the front door closing heralded Jane's return home. Before I could stand Jane had entered the bedroom and was reaching for the chair by the writing desk.
"Good, stay seated where you are, just swing your legs around so your back is facing me and will get your hair braided...sound good?"
"Jane, are you sure you, really, want to go to all the trouble of braiding my hair?"
"Are you kidding, I'm looking forward to it; you've left your hair damp, which is good, makes it easier to keep the strands separate. Though yours may still be a bit too damp...let's give it a feel and see."
Jane took a sizable sheaf of my hair gently in her left hand, carefully, appraising it's body and the amount of residual moisture left from towel drying. "Beautiful shade of auburn, thick and full of body, your hair will be fun to braid; however, it's still a little too wet." With that said, Jane let loose of my hair, walked out of the room returning a moment later with a hair dryer, plugged it into a nearby outlet and proceeded to dry my hair. "Hope you don't mind, but if I braided your hair that wet it might have not dried and then it'd smell funny...know what I mean?" I nodded my understanding and a few minutes later, drying complete, Jane, having portioned out smaller sheaves of hair, commenced braiding. As the braiding began I could feel that the braid was taut, but without any tension on my scalp; Jane wasn't kidding when she had said she could braid hair in her sleep. Noticing that it was only 11:45am I asked why Jane was home so early.
"Well, Daria, remember the practice question you asked me last night? Turns out that the history test was an essay test with only one question and it was exactly the same as what you'd asked...couldn't believe my luck. I just wrote down what I'd said last night and handed the test in. Then, since I was free to go to study hall or early to lunch, I – skipped the tonsil tango – headed straight to the nurse and told her my stomach was crampy and I was getting nauseous. Must have put on a convincing act, the nurse just wrote me a note to take to the office and told me to go home and rest. Now, just stay still while I secure the end of your braid...there, all done."
Jane motioned at the mirror across the room, so I stood, walked over and examined her handiwork. The braid was tight and even, far better than anything I could do, Jane was right the braid did compliment my face...an impressive accomplishment.
"Now, a quick trip to, my other Sister, Summer's old room for some braid adornments and we'll be set to go."
"Jane, what do you mean, the braid is gorgeous."
"Just a clip for the top and a cap to cover the rubber band at the end, trust me, you'll love the effect."
With that said, Jane headed out of the room with me in tow. A few minutes later, we were back in front of the mirror. Jane was standing just behind me holding a round mirror throwing the reflection of my now adorned braid into the larger wall mirror. Again, Jane was correct; the addition of a clip – where the braid met my head – with a highly filigreed, pewter toned, multicolored-glass bejeweled butterfly and a matching filigreed cap at the tip of my braid had an, indeed, pronounced effect.
"I see it on your face, you like the look." All I could do was smile back at her through the mirror. "Good, consider them yours."
"Jane, no, they belong to your Sister. I can't accept them."
"Daria, hear me out, Summer moved out years ago, when my Mom asked her about her left-behinds she said to throw them out. Now, if I have her permission to throw them away, then I'm sure I have the right to give them away. So, please, take them...they look amazing on you."
Slightly ashamed at having questioned Jane's gift: "Sorry, you're right of course, I do like them...thank you. Can you give me a minute to finish getting ready?"
"Sure, I'll be downstairs...and your welcome." With that, Jane turned, set the mirror on a nearby table and headed downstairs.
Having donned my jacket and smoothed out my skirt, I stopped and offered a silent prayer. 'Dear Lord, thank you for your generous and unexpected blessings, you, indeed, do work in mysterious ways. Please, if it be your will, give my Mother the strength to forgive and to accept me. Amen.' My prayer offered, I met Jane downstairs and, together, headed out.
Like our walk the day before, the conversation was light and in a far shorter amount of time then I had anticipated we were at our destination. Jane stopped and pointed to a large glass and stucco cube of a building: "here we are; your Mom's work." I stood in front of the double glass doors, breathing heavily, with the unmistakable feeling that my feet had taken root in the sidewalk; I was scared. My reverie was broken by Jane taking my right hand and giving it a firm squeeze.
"Daria, look, I'm sure your nervous, just remember Philippians 4:13."
Stunned by how easily I'd forgotten that simple truth, my strength returned, I released Jane's hold and opened the left front door. Jane then opened the remaining front door and together we entered the building. In the center of the lobby I spotted the reception desk and indicated for Jane to follow.
"Excuse me, could you, please, direct me to Helen Morgandorffer's office?"
After a moment the Receptionist replied: "Take the elevators to the third floor, turn left, and at the first hallway left again. There, down about fifty feet, on the right, you'll find her assistant, Marianne. She'll be able to help you. Will there be anything else?"
"No, thank you and God bless."
The Receptionist looked at me a bit curiously, then said "You're welcome". At that we went to the elevators and Jane pressed the button for the third floor. Entering the elevator Jane suddenly stated: "Oh, Ca-Ca, I forgot to wake Trent." As the Elevator began it's ascent, turning so I faced Jane, I asked: "You don't normally use words like "Ca-Ca", do you?"
"No not normally" said Jane self-consciously.
"Lane, let's make a deal, If you can refrain from taking the Lord's name in vain, and limit your use of expletives referring to fornication, then I think I can accept your way of speaking without further censor. How's that sound?"
"Hot damn! Sounds great." I couldn't help but chuckle to myself after seeing the mischievous smile playing on Jane's face. Exiting the Elevator and following the Receptionist's directions we were soon standing at a desk facing a thin, middle-aged, blonde woman.
"I'd like to speak with Helen Morgendorffer, please."
"Do you have an appointment, Mrs. Morgendorffer is quite busy." was Marianne's harried reply.
"No, I Don't, Please let her know her Daughter's here to see her."
"Look, I don't know who you are, but Mrs. Morgendorffer's Daughter Quinn comes here regularly and you are not Quinn."
"On that point, we are, definitely, in agreement. Marianne, let me rephrase: please, tell my Mother that her older Daughter is here to see her."
My reply left Marianne flummoxed. She looked me for a moment then quietly stood and went into – what I presumed – was my mother's office. As Marianne left, Jane and I took seats along the wall opposite her desk and waited. After, maybe, five minutes Marianne exited the office and, holding the door open, stated coldly: "Mrs. Morgendorffer will see you now."
To be continued...
