Thanks to all who reviewed chapter nine and let me know I still have a few readers out there. You guys rock!
This story, due to being set during their twenties, will have a few more adult scenes to it, so be forewarned. Not NC-17 or anything, but come on, a bunch of twenty-somethings definitely won't be stuck in the holding hands stage…just FYI!
Justifying the Means
"Hatred is gained as much by good works as by evil."
-Niccolo Machiavelli
"The end justifies the means."
-Niccolo Machiavelli
Chapter 10
Dinner was not going well. From what Jeannette could tell, however, Simon hadn't realized it.
She had already forgiven him for agreeing to it without asking her. She hadn't been happy, but she had seen how tired Simon looked and it was obvious how much he wanted Jeannette and Dr. Pryce to get along. So even though she had been ill most of the day – Jeannette thought she might be coming down with a stomach bug- she had quickly assured him that she would be fine with dinner. Perhaps Simon was right after all. She'd never actually met this doctor whose opinion meant so very much to her husband. Her own opinion had been based solely on the rumors and reports of past misconducts. That wasn't really like her, and honestly, wasn't really fair. She didn't usually judge so harshly.
But she had only reaffirmed that opinion the moment she had shook hands with Dr. Pryce and his wife. The doctor was good looking, charming, and well-spoken – and possibly the coldest person Jeannette had ever met. Jeannette knew she wasn't the best judge of character in the world, but there was just something about him…the way his warm smiles never seemed to touch his eyes, perhaps, or the piercing way those eyes seemed to assess her, as if she were a column of numbers to be added up…or a specimen to be studied.
Sabrina, his wife, did little to help Jeannette's opinion. She was a lovely woman, with dark olive skin and a mass of black curls set off by startling blue eyes. During introductions Sabrina had told her in a very faint exotic accent that she was an artist – a sculptor, to be precise. Jeannette had heard of her, though she wasn't too involved in the art scene – her work had enjoyed several stays in the New York Museum of Art. She probably would have liked the young woman if it hadn't been for the near-vapid look of adoration in her eyes when Sabrina looked at her husband. This woman did not love her husband, she worshipped him – and that scared Jeannette more than a little.
Simon had not seemed to notice her discomfort or her silence, and now, halfway through the appetizers, he simply flashed her a distracted smile when she pushed her shrimp cocktail away and stood.
Jeannette honestly believed he had forgotten about her.
"I'm going to the ladies' room." She announced. Simon nodded at her absently.
"Okay, Jeannette."
Jeannette grabbed her purse from under her chair, trying not to be irritated by Simon's easy dismissal. Next to her, Sabrina pulled her chair out as well.
"I think I'd like to freshen up, too."
Dr. Pryce barely gave her a second glance. Jeannette slipped gratefully into the bathroom, wishing only that Sabrina hadn't come with her. It wasn't that she disliked the woman, but…
"Simon seems like a wonderful man."
Jeannette lifted her hairbrush out of her purse. "Thank you." She said after a moment, wishing she could think of something nice to say about Pryce as well. "He thinks very highly of Dr. Pryce."
"You don't though, do you."
Jeannette nearly dropped her hairbrush. "Where on Earth did you get that idea?" She stammered, knowing that her furious blushing would probably give her away. "I-"
"Relax, Jeannette." Sabrina calmly continued to fix her already perfect makeup. "I understand. Quentin is taking up a lot of your husband's time, and that's hard for anyone – doubly hard for you newlyweds. It's only understandable that you resent him for that."
Jeannette resisted the urge to tell her that her theory wasn't the only reason she disliked Pryce. "I don't resent him." I don't trust him.
Sabrina seemed to not hear her. "Quentin thinks very highly of Simon too, Jeannette. In fact, I've never seen him as excited by a new research associate. He truly believes your husband can do great things."
"So do I." Jeannette said truthfully.
"Then I'm asking you to forgive Quentin – and to give him a chance." Sabrina placed her makeup kit carefully back in her purse. "He's a brilliant surgeon, and from what I understand Simon has the potential to become his equal if not surpass him."
"I know that."
"Then listen to me." Sabrina said, taking Jeannette's hands in hers. "What Quentin is trying to do is worth it. I'm living proof – don't lose sight of the big picture. Being the wife of a certifiable genius is work – worth it, but work. It's our job to be the strength that suffers."
"What!" Jeannette asked incredulously.
"That might have come out badly." Sabrina sighed, then turned and lifted her heavy tresses so that Jeannette got a clear view of the back of her neck. "But I've got a personal reason to have such strong feelings about this."
Across the smooth skin of her neck there was shiny pink scar, the line of it too smooth and perfect to be anything but surgical. "What happened?" Jeannette asked despite herself.
"Thayre-Acker disease." Sabrina said, dropping her hair and turning back to face Jeannette. "A bacterial infection that affects the nervous system."
"I've never heard of it."
"It's extraordinarily rare. They don't really even know how a person contracts it. But the fact of the matter is, I did. Thayre-Ackers responds well to aggressive antibiotic therapy, and I was treated early enough that I never reached the terminal stage. But they didn't catch it before it had done extensive damage to the tissues in my spine. The nerve damage left me with a wheelchair – my legs shook too much to walk safely – tremors in my hands and arms, and no career – no future."
Jeannette stared at her as Sabrina lifted one rock-steady hand. "I'm a sculptor, Jeannette. My hands are my life. I had no life…until I met Quentin."
"He was your doctor?"
Sabrina nodded. "I know what you're going to say. Patient-doctor taboo." She laughed softly. "Dr. Hennessy – another associate of Quentin's, I dare say Simon's met her – was a friend of mine. If she hadn't referred me to him, then I'd still be dying a little bit day by day, slowly but surely. I'd be watching my life pass me by from the seat of a wheelchair – a prisoner in my own body."
Her words reminded Jeannette uncomfortably of Theodore. That description sounded far too much like her brother-in-law's life lately for comfort. "But doesn't the AMA strictly forbid patient-doctor relationships? I mean, couldn't he have lost his license? "
"If we had been in the states, absolutely." Sabrina agreed. "But we weren't. I was born in Brazil."
That explained the accent Jeannette hadn't been able to pin down. "Oh."
"But that's irrelevant. What is relevant is Simon and Quentin's work. I couldn't live with myself if I condemned someone to that living hell I escaped from because of my own selfish wants. I'm not calling you selfish." Sabrina hastily assured her at Jeannette's injured expression. "But I know how frustrating this must be. I know you want Simon home with you when he's pulling a twenty-hour shift at the hospital. But think of what he's doing – and just who could be helped by it."
Jeannette wondered how much Sabrina knew about her and Simon – and Theodore. Somehow she had pushed exactly the right buttons. "Lets get back to dinner, shall we?" She said after a moment of silence. This conversation had disturbed the young chipmunk woman on multiple levels. She didn't want to continue it.
"Of course." Sabrina said brightly, seeming to put the conversation behind her a lot more easily than Jeannette could. "The main course should be out soon."
"Good." Jeannette trailed quietly behind the beautiful sculptor. It was hard to believe, but she would rather be ignored by Simon at the tablethan spend another minute alone with this woman. As they neared the table, Jeannette saw with some relief that their dinners had arrived.
She wanted to get back home as soon as possible – and away from Dr. Pryce and his wife.
OoooOoooO
"Is that Jeannette?"
Belle glanced in the direction Eleanor pointed and frowned. "I don't think so, Eleanor. Why would Jeannette be in the Blue Swan tonight?"
"That's a good question. In fact, I've been wondering the same thing. Why are we in the Blue Swan tonight? Isn't it Gavin's uncle who works here?" Eleanor looked at Belle suspiciously. Something had seemed off about the British chipmunk's invitation – although her reasons for fighting with Gavin had certainly seemed heartfelt.
Isabelle waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal "Yeah, but I made the reservations. I'd better not see Gavin here."
"He probably wouldn't even recognize you - I almost didn't, with the new look and all-"
Isabelle's giggle held a note of embarassment. "Yeah, well, I wasn't going to let Brittany win, so-"
"Belle?" Theodore's voice sounded surprised as it interrupted the British chipmunk, but that was nothing compared to the look of shock Eleanor saw at her own entrance. "Eleanor?"
"Gavin?" Eleanor said. "Theodore?"
Isabelle laughed nervously. "Guess we all know each other, then." Eleanor felt herself being pushed into the room roughly, and Gavin stood quickly from the table he and Theodore were sitting at. She felt her eyes narrow when Gavin and Isabelle linked hands in the doorway, both of them looking at her and Theodore anxiously.
"Wait a minute…"
"So I guess we'll leave the two of you alone, right?" Gavin grinned, his voice rushing to get the words out. "Dinner's already on the table, and a bottle of champagne is over in the bucket over there – " He pointed to the corner, where indeed rested a just-opened bottle of champagne. "So you guys have a great time, okay?"
"Bye!" Isabelle said quickly, and suddenly they were gone, the door to the private salon slamming behind them. Eleanor ran up to the door quickly, turning the knob and pushing the door outwards, but something stopped the door before it moved two inches.
"We're not letting you out for at least an hour!" Isabelle called, her voice muffled from behind the door.
"Belle! Gavin!" Eleanor pounded on the door. "You let us out this minute! What on Earth do you think you're doing?"
"Making you two fix something that has to be fixed." Gavin said firmly from beyond the barrier.
Theodore had wheeled himself next to her and banged on the door so hard the walls shook. "Gavin! You tricked me!" His eyes flashed with an anger so hot Eleanor was surprised that he wasn't burning holes in the door. "You said you needed to talk to me, that you had broken up with Belle! You two certainly look friendly for a couple who's just split up!"
"I lied!" Gavin called out. "And I'm leaving now! Belle and I are going to have dinner, too. We're in the next salon over, so if you try to make a scene, it won't matter – we'll be the only ones able to hear you."
"Gavin!" Theodore bellowed, his fist crashing into the door. "Isabelle! You let us out of here right now!"
There was no answer. Theodore banged on the door a few more times before he seemed to realize the same thing Eleanor did – they were stuck here until Gavin and Isabelle decided to let them out. His fist faltered in the middle of another strike, and fell into his lap. "I can't believe this!" He grumbled, not looking at Eleanor as he wheeled himself back to the table and then back to the door again – his equivalent of pacing. "I cannot believe they locked us in here!"
"Me neither." Eleanor agreed. She was angry, too, at the trick their friends had played on them – but Theodore's anger seemed to hold an edge of panic to it that made her heart break. He really couldn't stand the thought of being alone with her, could he?
"This is…I mean, really…what the hell do they think they're doing?"
Eleanor started visibly at the angry words Theodore directed towards nobody. "I think they're trying to get us back together." She said simply.
"Well, I guessed that, but it's none of their business! I mean, I can't…I mean, we already made our decision, and it's not their place to interfere in our personal lives!" Theodore wheeled himself up to the door again and pulled uselessly against it for a moment. "Why can't everyone just leave me alone?"
Eleanor felt a flare of her own anger overtake her. "Because we care about you, Theodore – though I don't know why, anymore."
Theodore looked at her in genuine surprise. "What?"
Eleanor sighed. She didn't usually let her temper get the best of her. "I'm sorry, Theodore, that was cold. They're just trying to help."
Theodore turned away from the door, his face losing a little of it's anger. "Yeah, I know. I do. I just don't want their help."
What about me? Eleanor wanted to ask, but kept her mouth shut. Instead she sat at the table and offered him a tremulous smile. "Well, at the very least, we're getting dinner out of it. It looks like they spared no expense on that. Lobster bisque, Caesar salad, prime rib and shrimp…" she named off the entrees as she lifted the silver cover off each one. "And looks like caramel cheesecake for dessert."
"What?" Theodore stared at her.
"Cheesecake." Eleanor repeated, though she was fairly sure Theodore wasn't asking for a clarification. She pulled the bottle of champagne from the ice and poured two glasses. "I can't give an opinion on the champagne, because I don't drink it much, but I'm sure Gavin had his uncle pick out a good one." She took a sip, and thought a moment. "Yes…definitely a good one. I think I like it."
"Eleanor, what are you doing?" Theodore asked as she set one glass of champagne next to his plate and began to help herself to the sumptuous dishes in front of her.
"What does it look like? I'm eating." Eleanor said calmly.
"Yes, but-"
"But what? They're not going to let us out for a while, Theodore. It doesn't make sense for this feast to go to waste." Eleanor spooned a bit of the lobster bisque into her mouth and smiled a little. "Besides, I'm hungry."
Theodore just watched her eat for a few moments, and despite her declaration earlier, Eleanor felt anything but hungry. But she couldn't just sit in here for an hour, fuming along with her ex-boyfriend because their friends were trying to fix them up again. There was no point to it. "This is really good, Theodore. Aren't you hungry?"
"No!" Theodore shook his head, then looked up almost shyly. "Well, maybe a little. But-"
"Stop with the 'buts', Theodore." Eleanor scolded, ladling out some soup into the bowl next to his plate. "We're still friends, right? Can't friends have dinner together?"
"Uh…yeah, I guess so. I mean, of course they can. I just-"
"Then eat, Theodore. It'll make the time go faster anyways."
Theodore pushed himself reluctantly to the table and took the spoon in his hand. "You're right, Eleanor."
"I'm always right, remember?" Eleanor replied flippantly before she realized what she was saying. Theodore winced at her comment, and Eleanor felt her own face make the same gesture – but neither of them said anything. It had been a running joke with them for years after the accident that 'the woman was always right.' Of course, neither of them actually believed such sexist nonsense, but it had become a standard whenever Eleanor would get her way that one of them would say it. It always made Theodore laugh.
He didn't laugh now. In fact, he said nothing, concentrating instead on the soup in front of him. They ate in silence for several minutes that way.
Finally, Eleanor threw down her soup spoon in frustration. "This is ridiculous."
Theodore froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth. "What?"
"Even though I disagree with their methods, Gavin and Belle have the right idea." Eleanor said to him, her eyes meeting his and not letting them go. "We need to talk."
"We already talked, Eleanor."
"Yeah, I know about that one, believe me." Eleanor couldn't help the bitterness that crept into her voice. "But like it or not, Theodore, our lives are always going to be connected – by our friends, as was obvious tonight, but more importantly, by our sisters and brothers – or did you forget that Simon and Jeannette are married now and that Alvin and Brittany's wedding is five days away?"
"Of course I didn't forget."
"Then we have to come to some sort of compromise here, Theodore." Eleanor couldn't help it as her voice dropped softer. "I've missed you."
Theodore's face was tortured. "Eleanor, I don't want to-"
"Shut up." Eleanor said in that same soft voice, and Theodore's mouth snapped shut as if she had screamed at him. "I miss our walks together, talking on the phone, going to kid's movies together even though we're 'too old' to go…I miss our friendship more than anything I've ever lost before." She missed far more than that, but Eleanor wanted to salvage what she could. "We need to save that, at the very least. I can't make you want to be with me. But for our families' sakes, for our future nieces and nephews, for our own sakes…we need to try and keep that friendship. We've had too much history together to walk away scot-free, you know."
"It's not that easy." Theodore whispered, his eyes fixated on his plate. Eleanor took his chin firmly in her hand and forced his eyes to meet hers.
"No, it's never easy." She agreed with him. It broke her heart to see the pain in his eyes. Maybe he really did want to keep away from her, to deny that they had ever had something special, but looking into his eyes like this she couldn't bring herself to believe it. And if she couldn't be with him, she could at least have him in her life to some degree. She had to believe he wanted at least that much, too. "Friendships are hard. Learning to have a new relationship together will be hard. But I still love you, Theodore. And I have to believe that you, at least at one point, loved me too. And if all that's left of that love is friendship, well, I'd still say that's worth saving – don't you?"
Theodore looked at her, his eyes brimming with tears. "Eleanor, I…I don't know if I can."
"Of course you can, Theodore." Eleanor hugged him impulsively, quickly – a sisterly hug and no more. "We were friends before we started dating. Granted, that was a while ago, but that worked pretty well. So? Can we do it?" She put her hand over his hand on the table. "Friends?"
Theodore stared at her hand on his for a moment, then looked up at her. A faint, wavering smile rested on his face. He nodded.
"Friends."
End of Part 10
Reviews are ,as always, greatly desired and appreciated!
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