PART FOURTEEN
"So, that's it." She said aloud. More to herself than her friend. Jo leaned
back and stared gloomily at the fire. The embers had hollowed out a
deepening pit in the snow floor of the shelter.
Her fingers tightened on the stick she held in her hand. She pushed it
toward the glowing coals, cutting a groove in the snow, bulldozing a bit of
the slush into the fire where it sizzled.
As she furrowed out channel after channel with the wood, the gravity of the
situation began to wear through her defenses.
"Blair, I owe you ... "
Brown eyes drifted closed, a frown creasing the young woman's lips. "Jo,
that is such an old fight and I just don't have the strength to argue about
it now."
"No, not that," she countered. "An explanation. I owe you an explanation."
The brunette's serious tone worried her friend. She heard Jo take a breath
and make a false start, her words tumbling out haphazardly. Intrigued, the
socialite raised her head to listen.
"Right. Okay, then. You know its hard for me to admit some things. Like that
sometimes I don't always know best or that I might need help or what people
mean to me."
"Polniaczek, you talk too much," Blair sighed.
Jo frowned. This was difficult enough. She didn't expect her roommate to
give her a hassle. "Will you at least give me a shot at this?"
"Not if it's going to sound like your last-will-and-testament."
Jo blinked at her friend's dismissal. What's the matter with her? Does she
think this stuff comes easy for me? The rebuff stung and it made her angry.
"Be glad I can't reach you, Warner, 'cos if I could I swear I'd ..." she
warned, her voice taking on a dangerous tone.
Rather than becoming alarmed, the debutante grinned. "Better, much better,"
she replied.
"What?"
"That sounds much more like you," replied Blair honestly, as she hid a yawn
behind her fist.
Jo smirked as her temper began to subside. Ain't it the truth? They were
just not the sort to slosh the mushy stuff around. Tootie and Natalie seemed
to thrive on daily affirmations as to who was whose best friend.
Things like that just didn't creep into Jo and Blair's conversations. As she
thought back over the years, she couldn't find more than a couple of
instances where they'd even tried to define their relationship.
They laughed. They disagreed. They argued. They were far more alike than
they would ever care to admit. But more importantly: they never gave up on
each other.
The brunette turned and considered the tunnel to the outdoors. As it was,
the passage was nearly full of gathered wood. "Ah, Blair?"
"Yeah?"
"I hate your guts," the brunette grinned. On the other side of the fire, the
blonde's mouth quirked into a smile as well.
"I know. I hate you, too."
"So, that's it." She said aloud. More to herself than her friend. Jo leaned
back and stared gloomily at the fire. The embers had hollowed out a
deepening pit in the snow floor of the shelter.
Her fingers tightened on the stick she held in her hand. She pushed it
toward the glowing coals, cutting a groove in the snow, bulldozing a bit of
the slush into the fire where it sizzled.
As she furrowed out channel after channel with the wood, the gravity of the
situation began to wear through her defenses.
"Blair, I owe you ... "
Brown eyes drifted closed, a frown creasing the young woman's lips. "Jo,
that is such an old fight and I just don't have the strength to argue about
it now."
"No, not that," she countered. "An explanation. I owe you an explanation."
The brunette's serious tone worried her friend. She heard Jo take a breath
and make a false start, her words tumbling out haphazardly. Intrigued, the
socialite raised her head to listen.
"Right. Okay, then. You know its hard for me to admit some things. Like that
sometimes I don't always know best or that I might need help or what people
mean to me."
"Polniaczek, you talk too much," Blair sighed.
Jo frowned. This was difficult enough. She didn't expect her roommate to
give her a hassle. "Will you at least give me a shot at this?"
"Not if it's going to sound like your last-will-and-testament."
Jo blinked at her friend's dismissal. What's the matter with her? Does she
think this stuff comes easy for me? The rebuff stung and it made her angry.
"Be glad I can't reach you, Warner, 'cos if I could I swear I'd ..." she
warned, her voice taking on a dangerous tone.
Rather than becoming alarmed, the debutante grinned. "Better, much better,"
she replied.
"What?"
"That sounds much more like you," replied Blair honestly, as she hid a yawn
behind her fist.
Jo smirked as her temper began to subside. Ain't it the truth? They were
just not the sort to slosh the mushy stuff around. Tootie and Natalie seemed
to thrive on daily affirmations as to who was whose best friend.
Things like that just didn't creep into Jo and Blair's conversations. As she
thought back over the years, she couldn't find more than a couple of
instances where they'd even tried to define their relationship.
They laughed. They disagreed. They argued. They were far more alike than
they would ever care to admit. But more importantly: they never gave up on
each other.
The brunette turned and considered the tunnel to the outdoors. As it was,
the passage was nearly full of gathered wood. "Ah, Blair?"
"Yeah?"
"I hate your guts," the brunette grinned. On the other side of the fire, the
blonde's mouth quirked into a smile as well.
"I know. I hate you, too."