Disclaimer: I don't own anything WAT-related, not even a red push pin!
Each of us angels
Summary: Can Danny Taylor ever admit that he needs someone? Danny-centric.
"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another." - Titus Lucretius Carus
And here's one: a chapter completely devoid of a plot! LOL. I couldn't help it. But it's an intermediate part that I feel is necessary, and the story is far from over. The luxury of writing fan fiction is that one can indulge in a slow, detailed character development. And because people have responded to that, I feel freer to allow myself this indulgence.
Again, thank you, guys, for your reviews. I am running out of ways to express my gratitude, but, please, don't think that I am any less grateful! Because it's a wonderful feeling to hear that people actually enjoy this story. :)
"Wake up, sleepy head!" Danny shook Audrey gently by the shoulder.
"Get away from me," came her grumpy voice smothered by a pillow. "I hate you. I hate everyone this early in the morning."
Danny laughed - a full, happy laughter that he found himself capable of at a surprisingly frequent rate these past several days.
"Audrey, honey, before you turn homicidal, drink this." He propped her up in a sitting position, chuckling at her pout, and handed her a steaming cup.
"Gah! No offence, but this liquid you so charitably call coffee is foul, dangerous, and is probably illegal in at least 35 States!"
"I know! Isn't it great?"
"OK, you are officially weird."
"Tell you what: take a sip, get your eyes opened, and then we will see about procuring you some real breakfast beverage."
"Why, why, why did you wake me so early?" She was wining, but her smile was genuine, and she was holding on to Danny's hand in a gentlest of ways.
"Because, you have a seminar at 10, I have work at 8:30, and we have decided last night that we would make your place look at least marginally lived-in before your mother shows up this afternoon."
"We did? Were we smoking anything at the time? 'Cause there's no way we can unload all those boxes and untangle all these clothes between now and 7:30!"
"Actually, it's more like between now and 7:00, because I want to take you out to breakfast." He laughed again at the face she made. "The good news is, while you slept, I've already unpacked most of your boxes in the other room, and, I flatter myself, arranged them in not altogether unappealing manner."
Audrey got out of bed and sauntered into the small living room.
"Whoa! You weren't kidding! When did you do that? Did you sleep at all? And how come I didn't wake up?"
"Between 1:30 and 5:00 a.m. No, I didn't. And I took care to be quiet."
"Wow. I mean, wow. Danny, don't take this the wrong way, because I don't want you to think for a second that I don't realize or appreciate how lucky I am, but you can't spoil me like this. For one thing, you need to sleep! You have a demanding job, not to mention, a demanding girlfriend. We, both of us, need you rested. What are you doing, cutting boxes and hauling books in the middle of the night!"
"I couldn't sleep. Correction: I didn't want to. I don't sleep much on any given night, Audrey. Honestly, it's a quirk I had all my life. It's not a big departure for me. You wouldn't believe the amount of books I've read and the number of sites I've visited because of this insomnia. My erudition has expanded greatly, as well as my ability to shock the hell out of my friends with the breadth of useless knowledge I posses. . . . I don't need much to recuperate. And when I do, I sleep. Seriously, it's not a problem."
She regarded him sceptically, genuine concern in her eyes. Danny smiled at her sheepishly.
"To tell you the whole truth, I didn't want to sleep last night. I don't remember a time in my life when I felt this happy, this elated, this . . . well. And I am afraid that it might not last, or something might spoil it. But mostly, I just don't want to lose a single moment. . . . So, I shuffled some books, and, from time to time, looked in on you sleeping. You know, counted the freckles, just to make sure they didn't go anywhere."
"Oh, God, were that they would!"
Danny kissed her nose. "Not a chance! They and I have an understanding. We signed a contract while you slept. They are staying firmly put."
"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you when they have some friends joining them later on!"
While Audrey grabbed a shower, Danny did a final once-over in the living room. A few chairs and a small table that she brought with her fitted well in-between the built-in book shelves. And, Danny thought, books were, after all, the best decoration. The room, covered with all those unpacked books, looked lived-in and comfortable. None of that desolate air that the newly moved-in rooms normally tend to have. He thought Mrs. Mills should be comforted by this. Admittedly, he didn't know the woman, but what concerned parent won't be reassured by the site of a cozy space that spelled studying, introspection, and calm.
"Checking out my collection?" Audrey stood in the doorway, wrapped in a yellow towel, wide awake smile lighting her face up. "Impressive, huh?"
"Yes, it is, and now I know why the boxes were so darn heavy."
"Some women buy shoes, I collect books. Not that I go shoeless, mind you, but given a choice. . . ."
"I can see that. Also, they last longer than shoes. Very practical of you."
"Indeed. That's me: practical. Plus, they are an investment. I intend to plagiarize at least half of them when I am 60 and publishing my own book."
"60? Is that procrastination or you just plan to be very, very thorough?"
"Neither. I just intend to get really good before I attempt anything."
"And very wise, too." Danny started opening some books at random, waiting for Audrey to get dressed.
"You know, Danny," she called from the other room, continuing the conversation, "I think it was Flannery O'Connor who said that anyone who has survived childhood has enough material to write about for the rest of their lives. Now, she is not my favorite author, but I think she is right on this one. So, I wonder if you should write a book. Any chain of events that led to the forming of you has got to be interesting, and you told me yourself you could always spin a yarn."
Danny turned towards the door to her bedroom. He was smiling, but he was thankful that she couldn't see it. The smile was sad.
"Any book I would write about my childhood would greatly resemble the Book of Job. And who'd want to read a whiny downer? I mean, outside of the Bible."
She came out of the bedroom, her face worried.
"That bad, huh?"
"It's nothing," he rushed to reassure her. "I mean, like you said, a childhood is usually a tale of survivor, but I doubt it would be interesting to anyone but myself."
"I am interested," she said quietly. "You don't have to tell me, let alone write a book, but if or when you feel you want to, you should know: I am interested."
XXXXXX
"So, tell me again, why am I supposed to declare to this Mother character that I am a nice girl?" Audrey, her hand gripping Danny's elbow, looked up questioningly as they crossed the street.
"Because, Mama Arevalo wouldn't part with me for anyone who wasn't." Danny guided her firmly around a frozen bit of the pavement. "Caro is very discerning and, if you pass the master with her, I just might keep you."
"Oh, no! You should have told me my future was at stake! I would not have worn my "Good-bye Civil Liberties" T-shirt! I should have stayed away from political statements and put on something serious and demure. Like an argyle sweater or a Doily. And pulled my hair in a bun."
Danny laughed at the mental image. "I think you are confusing Mama Arevalo with your own mother. I don't think Caro would be able to pick an argyle sweater out of a lineup, and I doubt she would expect a bun in anyone under the age of 60. Plus, you can always keep your coat on. I doubt she'll demand you strip down to your T-shirt. . . . Relax, she is easy and all you need to do is assure her that you intend to make me wear a hat in winter. She'd be yours for life."
"Really? That's all it would take?"
"You say that now, but try and make me do that, and you will know why that's such a crucial point."
"Ah, I see, not a hat fan. Never mind, I will buy you a big, flabby-eared, fur-lined one to wear specifically inside that restaurant. You'll get Mama off your back, and I'll get a good laugh every morning."
"That's the spirit!"
They entered the Casa holding hands and giggling. Like a pair of children, Danny thought, and the idea didn't trouble him as it would have done in the past.
"Caro! Good morning!"
"Hi, there, gorgeous! You back! I miss you. Two days you stay away."
"It was unavoidable, but I am back now. You have me completely addicted to your coffee, and I wanted you to meet someone. Caro, this is Audrey. I lured her here with a promise of your excellent omelette. Oh, and I should tell you: she is a nice girl." Danny's smile was as broad as it was full of meaning.
Mama Arevalo gave Audrey an open and unabashed once-over that women of her age can sometimes get away with.
"She is skinny." Was the result of Caro's inspection. "You come here often," she addressed Audrey directly. "I will get you all plumb and nice looking." The words might have been offensive if they weren't said with the warmest and most genuine of smiles.
"You make him eat, too! He never eats! I make you two nice omelettes. With peppers."
They squeezed behind a tiny table by the window. Audrey looked toward the kitchen where the proprietress had disappeared.
"I think I like her. She says what she means, and she seems very fond of you."
"She is amazing. She built up this business with practically nothing. Her husband is a sweet, quiet man, but he isn't much help with anything other than the actual, physical labor. He doesn't speak much of English, and the tougher business details elude him completely. Caro's raised four children. Lost one not so long ago. There were several times in her life that she has had to pick herself up and start from scratch. And yet, she is not bitter, or mean-spirited, or any less energetic. And she is hopeful and always willing to see good in people, no matter what."
"Sounds like she is an inspiration."
"She is. In many ways. She is a fighter. I admire that. In people in general, in women. In you."
"Oh, and there I was thinking that what you admired in me were my other, more external qualities."
Danny laughed and gave Audrey a speculative look, not unlike the one given to her by Mama Arevalo earlier, but with much more meaning to it.
"Well, who says I can't admire both?"
Caro came over with a tray of two steaming plates and two cups of coffee. In her other hand she held a larger plate with a festive cake.
"We celebrate, yes? Danny found nice girl. I knew all he said before was nonsense!"
"Well, Mamacita, what was I supposed to do? You turned me down time and time again!"
"Ah, you kid. He kids." she informed Audrey just in case. "You take care of him. He is nice boy. Not many around."
"I know, Mrs. Arevalo. Believe me, I know." Audrey's voice was quieter and her smile reflective. "I am lucky."
