Again they drive, and again Darcy neither asks for help with looking for parking, but knows where he is going, and finds a place to park. This time it is street parking. She wonders if you can admire someone just based on his ability to find a place to park his car.
The restaurant is not polished and brassy, but small and homey and Lizzie suspects she would have walked right by the front of it without noticing. A part of her is disappointed that it is not big and showy and somehow the de rigueur lunch place for a CEO. Gigi seems surprised too, and Lizzie suspects that perhaps Fitz may be a better wingman that he admits and that the selection was his suggestion.
The place is crowded and there are no free tables. Darcy leaves his name, 'William,' with the waitress and they opt to wait out front. The day, weather-wise, is fantastic. San Francisco can be so unpredictable. Summer days can be bitterly cold, and here is a warm 65 degree day in January—so long as the weather holds.
"So, baseball," Lizzie opts to open up the conversation. Darcy smiles. "Somehow I had never thought of you as a baseball fan, William Darcy, CEO of Pemberley Digital and all."
"Every American boy grows up loving baseball. We all play outside, and like to toss a ball around," he answered. He was leaning back against the restaurant front. They were in the shade, which made it a bit cool, despite it being a 'fantastically warm' winter day.
"Hmm, William, I think Fitz said he was more of soccer dude," Gigi interrupts trying to put a hole in his argument, "and I suspect that not every boy, ever, tosses a ball around."
"Okay, so maybe all boys don't toss baseballs around, but I did." Darcy purses his lips together and glares down at his sister. "And I didn't play high school baseball, because things, well, were complicated in high school." He pauses to look at Gigi and their faces still for a moment, "but, I like baseball."
Lizzie again listened and watched as the two siblings talked about things spoken and unspoken and thought how sweet that they were so close. She and Jane, were close, had been close, but lately with Jane finding her own way, and the move to LA, Lizzie had to admit to feeling lonely. And Lydia was so lost, and on her own path to what appeared to be destruction, that Lizzie was desperately feeling the loss of her besties. At least Charlotte was still at the end of the phone when she needed some comfort.
"How about you Lizzie, do you have a favorite baseball team?" Gigi asked as she shuffled her feet. She had worn flats which did not look all that warm.
"Not really, I guess I am just not a sports fan. I just have not had time, what with school and all..," again Lizzie recalled her thoughts from earlier in the day about always working towards the next thing, and never taking time to just relax. "I guess I have missed out. Perhaps I need to get to a game someday," she offered looking at Gigi, but quickly glancing at Darcy. He continued his casual holding up of the building.
"Hey, if you are ever in town once the season starts, we can crash the stadium and go wild, it would be great!" Gigi gushed. She shivered again as she danced on her feet.
"I still have to finish up my degree. I am not quite sure what company I will be working with next," Lizzie said, then took a hold of Gigi's hand and pulled her away from the restaurant front, and Darcy. He looked at them like they had some conspiracy to plan and with a little bit of a hurt puppy look.
Lizzie hauled Gigi to the curb where the sun was shining. It felt warm on her face. Sometimes winter suns can be so cruel, shining in what appears to be full glory, but offering no heat, but today was still proving to be a fantastic day.
"You looked cold," Lizzie offered.
"Thanks," Gigi grinned, and glanced over at her brother, "I think William thinks we are up to no-good-girl stuff." Darcy still was in front of the restaurant, though no longer leaning casually, but standing stiffly, looking at them.
Lizzie walked back to Darcy and grabbed his hand, which he held stiffly, knitting his eyebrows together as he asked a silent question as to what she was doing.
"We were cold, and wanted to move into the sun," she explained, tugging at his hand. He clasped her hand and let her drag him along, though they might really have let go and walked over on their own accord. They let go of each other's hands only when they reached Gigi.
A few people exited from the restaurant and they looked over to see how things were shaping up, table-wise. Darcy was torn between wanting to be a good host, and seeing how soon they could be seated, and not wanting to leave Lizzie's side. Holding her hand felt like a small victory somehow and he didn't want to concede the territory.
They stood like sunflowers soaking in the sun, without talking for a few minutes. It was neither awkward nor entirely comfortable, either.
"Why Boston?" Lizzie asked finally. Darcy didn't seem to understand the question, so she placed her hand on his arm to get his full attention. Any touch from her immediately sparked his full attention, so he found himself gazing down at those eyes he had compared to a famous painting not a few hours earlier.
"What?"
"Why Boston, why a team on the East Coast? I didn't think you had ever lived back there. Most people I know follow teams because they grow up with them, or because they live near them, so why the Boston Red Sox?" She pressed him.
"The former," was his terse and somewhat archaic reply. She could not read anything on his face.
"What do you mean, the former?" her brow wrinkled.
"I grew up with them, because my Mother liked them. She was from Boston. You would really think that it would be my Father, the guy, who would be the baseball fan, but no, it was my Mother. And Boston fans are life-long fans." Lizzie bowed her head to look at her shoes once he mentioned his mother. She felt sorry she had pursued the subject. She wasn't sure how much he wanted to talk about his parents, especially with his sister there.
But neither Gigi nor Darcy seemed to be effected by his disclosure and Lizzie regained her composure once again.
"I'm glad you have something that you shared with your Mother," Lizzie offered bravely, looking up again, and directly at him. Darcy smiled back at her.
"And I still have it," he smiled wickedly, "and it is probably better than something like a love of green beans in cranberry jello."
Lizzie stared at him for five long second before she realized that William Darcy had cracked a joke, then her chest and sides started shaking with laughter as she snorted in an undignified manner. The three of them laughed heartily until they noticed the waitress from El Charro standing a good arm's distance away to let them know that their table was ready.
It was hard not to over-use "fantastic" but the lunch was fantastic. Gigi ordered a combination plate with tacos, a burrito and enchiladas of various ilk.
Lizzie had never been brave enough to try mole sauce, but at Darcy's encouragement, tried chicken enchiladas with mole. The idea of chicken and chocolate was just not the pairing she had ever considered, wanted to consider or would ever consider except when faced with a gently insistent William Darcy who ordered chicken and mole over rice as his main dish. Perhaps it was the day for new Lizzie, a fledgling new Lizzie to try her wings.
Somehow it worked, this smooth, spicy sauce on her enchiladas was an unexpected treat, and lunch was fantastic.
If Darcy had a timeline for the day, or his plans were not going 'as planned,' he did not seem to be too bothered by how things were going so far. They lingered over lunch and talked about work a bit. That was hard not to do, given that they all 'worked' for the same company. Though Lizzie did not actually work for Pemberley Digital, but since she was shadowing there for a month, she figured that was close enough to count as 'working' there.
The weather held, despite forecasts of possible late afternoon clouds and rain. Gigi offered up some gloomy tidings, as they walked to the car, about the evening's weather. They piled into it and Darcy, silent again as to their next stop, merged into traffic.
This time they parked atop a huge parking structure in an area with far taller buildings, and Gigi groaned.
"It is like the Financial District, isn't it William," she glared, "you'll take her to tour some dusty financial records' warehouse or something like that, or some dull museum again."
They made their way down the stairwell of the parking structure and emerged at street level. He held the door for both women.
"Maybe," he teased, smiling at Gigi.
They walked a short block, turned a corner and followed along the street on a busier street. Lizzie glanced at Darcy who had an amused smile on his face, and she realized he liked having his little secret destinations, and revealing them to both Lizzie and Gigi only when they got to them.
Stopping in front of a door, he opened it and the women paused to look for a sign. There was no big sign out front and just some small print on the door, which happened to be in reverse currently. They had not noticed anything unusual about the building as they passed it by, but they weren't sure if the windows they had passed were related to the door they now were entering.
"Welcome to the Cartoon Art Museum," said a tall woman behind a counter as they walked in. To the right they could see an extensive gift shop, and behind the counter was an art gallery of sorts, hung with all sorts of pictures. Gigi wandered over to look at their extensive collection of DVDs for sale, running her index finger over the spines.
Lizzie turned to look at Darcy with her eyebrows raised high to her forehead. He grinned back at her.
"Cartoon art Darcy?" Lizzie felt like sneering at him. The first half of the day had gone so well, but she couldn't possibly see what value cartoons could have. "Like Saturday morning cartoons?"
Perhaps the woman at the desk could tell of Lizzie's discomfiture.
"Are you new to the Cartoon Art Museum?" she asked. "We are a unique institution dedicated to this unique art form, whether it is comic books, graphic novels, magazines, posters, post cards (my specialty)," and she winked to let both Lizzie and Darcy know she was artist herself, "anime, or," and she paused for emphasis, "Saturday morning cartoons."
Lizzie wasn't sure what to think after that list. The old Lizzie probably would have said something crass, both to Darcy and the woman behind the counter, but the new Lizzie thought that she might have to give the venue a try. If Darcy had been spot-on with the morning's destination, perhaps she needed to give this first stop in the afternoon a try.
She pasted a smile on her face. "Can I get the tickets this time?" He nodded.
"Totoro!" Gigi held up a DVD, "I love this guy. How can you not love a man who always carries an umbrella? William, we have to get this disc for our collection."
"Gigi, I wasn't aware that you did not have a purse, nor your own means of purchasing things. Besides, we are going in now, are you coming?" Darcy asked looking at her face, then down at the purse on her shoulder.
"I guess I can get it when we come out," she placed it back on the rack and they walked in.
There were a number of exhibits, one highlighting a local artist, another discussing the 30 year work of a magazine and yet another discussing a special collaborative artwork piece.
After a few minutes, Lizzie, new Lizzie, tackled Darcy about the venue. She kept an even tone to her voice.
"So did you read comic books as kid? I guess I am surprised by this non-touristy stop." She examined the exhibits as they slowly moved around. Unlike the big museum exhibits, these were all hung in essentially one big room, and you could back-track all you wished.
"No, I did not," he replied turning to look at her, trying to catch her eye, "but don't you think that comic books have come a long way since the days of Superman or the Fantastic Four?" He carefully avoided mentioning another superhero and they both went a little pale as they thought of Darvid's enemy.
"How do you know so much about comic books?" she asked, not bothering to look up at him despite feeling his eyes on her. She was looking at the local artist's work and decided she did not care for it, it was not a fine Dutch painting after all. It was just colored pencils, not fine oils.
"You are the student in social media, did you not study any other forms of media in school?" he prodded.
"Are comic books really a relevant topic to study?" she countered.
"I suppose some parents and educators might not think so, but have you considered the graphic novel and its modern form. The juxtaposition of the visual with some excellent story-telling; consider The Sandman or some of the excellent Japanese forms that has been published. I even believe the French have embraced the form. It has become a whole genre within itself." That was enough to get her to look at him. He surprised her yet again.
"Where did that come from?" she blurted out, perhaps a little bit too old Lizzie.
"I am the CEO of a media company; there are all sorts of media. And while I still have a high preference for the written word, there is something to be said about telling a story with both words and pictures. Are not your vlogs something of that sort? There are all sorts of ways to tell a story. Hundreds of years ago we had the book and the oral tradition, but with modern advancements, and printing and social media we have all new ways to tell stories. So is your vlog not part of that continuum? And are there not other, modern ways of story-telling?"
And again she felt herself trying to stop her mouth from opening as it had in that video, episode 60, that awkward video. She had imagined Darcy with this list of places to take her to impress her with his knowledge of the City, and to show off a little. Strut his CEO-stuff. But perhaps there was more to this day with the Darcys; there was more he was trying to say to her?
"I need to sit down," and she turned away. There weren't any benches in the big room and she honestly felt light-headed. A hand on her arm guided her to the back of the room and around the wall where there was a little TV room showing cartoons. She sat on a cushioned bench, the farthest from the screen.
"Are you ok?" That was a loaded line, since it was the opening one to episode 60. She blanched, and he seemed to realize she perhaps needed space and time and stepped a few paces from her and looked away.
Spending the day in self-reflection was not what she had envisioned for the day. Lizzie wondered at how Darcy seemed to continually bring her to this state. That he had thought about how her vlogs fit into a larger piece of mass communication, in a timeline of sorts with the book, and its evolution into different forms. And how did words, spoken words and visual communication fit into the larger space of social media. And was she just thinking too much?
She looked up at him; he was watching the cartoons. But he immediately looked over at her.
"We can go if you aren't enjoying this. I just thought it would be an off-the-beaten-path stop, but one you would enjoy." He rushed his words apologetically.
"No," she answered firmly, "you obviously thought there was something important here for me, given my thesis project and graduate studies. I really appreciate it William." And she used his first name again.
She took a deep breath and watched Betty Boop dancing in her too-short skirt, and then stood up.
Gigi was looking at the 30 year retrospective of the magazine, and somehow Lizzie did not want to join her friend, so she and Darcy walked over to look at the collaborative art project.
The Sketchtravel project had been a four year project where a single notebook had been passed from one artist to another who sketched a single page. The sketchbook had then been sold at auction to raise money for a literacy project. These pages, in reproductions, were all on display.
"Not quite the way I think of social media," she mused as she looked at the sketches. Some, more than others caught her fancy. But they did catch her eye, and Lizzie found herself coming back to look at a particular favorite one or two. Darcy followed along silently, and again gave her the time to emotionally engage with the illustrations as he had in the morning.
Gigi hovered over one of the pictures and then gasped. "Lizzie, you have to come look at this!" She gestured with both hands, "It's Miyazaki!" She squealed.
Lizzie came up beside Gigi to look at the picture of boy and an airplane. It had soft watercolors and was done in pen and a funny sort of plane that didn't quite look like one that could fly.
"Lizzie, this is Miyazaki, he's the guy who did Totoro! He's an animator… I love his work!" Gigi gushed.
"I've never heard of him," Lizzie answered as she looked at Gigi's excited face. Apparently she had missed a whole genre with graphic novels and animation. Had she studied classic literature and social media, but nothing in between?
"I'm going to go get the DVD and loan it to you so you can see what a genius he is. He does remarkable work, his camera angles, and color use, and stories are all so fantastic!" Spinning on the ball of her foot, Gigi marched off to the gift shop swinging her purse.
"Are you ready?" Asked a deep voice behind her. Lizzie turned to smile at her non-touristy tour guide.
"Yes."
"Then let's go," and he nudged his head in the direction of Gigi. He seemed inclined to hold out his hand to her, but thought better of it.
Gigi made her purchase, the tall blond artist at the front desk also ran the gift shop, and then handed the DVD to Lizzie.
"Here, you have to go home and watch it, tonight."
"Really Gigi, I can't take it, you just bought it. Don't you want to watch it first?" Lizzie held up her hands in protest.
"No, I want you to see it, especially if you've never see a Miyazaki before." And she placed the DVD in the top of Lizzie's purse. Lizzie smiled her acquiescence.
They made their way out into the sunshine. A few more clouds, wispy ones, were in the sky but their exceptional January weather still held. The walk to the car was dominated by Gigi talking about Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli films.