December 1996, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
"Nice haircut, Anne." It was only the second day of winter break, but Charles Musgrove wasted no time in showing up at the Elliots' porch in his souped-up Honda Civic.
"Thanks. I haven't cut it this short since you took it upon yourself to cut my hair, way back when we were little kids."
They laughed, remembering that long-ago incident. Walter Elliot had considered it a necessary rite of passage for each of his girls to get a perm for the first day of first grade. Elizabeth had loved showing off her Shirley Temple ringlets, but when it came to Anne's turn, she'd dreaded the thought of the curling iron. Charles had chivalrously offered to spare her from the whole business by snipping off her pigtails, but after the event, he'd realized the shorn tufts of hair he'd produced weren't quite the effect he had been looking for. Terrified, Charles had run blubbering to his mom, begging her to salvage the situation. In the end, Lucy Musgrove had tidied Anne's hair into a chin-length bob with bangs, a la To Kill A Mockingbird. Anne had loved the style, even though Walter hadn't.
The auto-repair chain that Henry and Lucy Musgrove owned was one of the biggest customers of ELMSCO's aftermarket parts. Usually, Walter kept away from any direct dealings with ELMSCO's automotive business contacts; the auto business bored him to death, and he had no desire to expose his ignorance about the auto industry either. But in the case of the Musgroves, Walter found it convenient to associate with them. Firstly, Henry Musgrove was easy to befriend with his warm, approachable nature, and it suited Walter's grandiose notions to have a friend who was just slightly below the Elliots in wealth and influence, to boost his ego from time to time. Secondly and perhaps more importantly, Walter could see the potential for a match between Charles Musgrove and Anne.
The Musgroves might not be quite at the level of status he would target for Elizabeth, but even when the girls were small, Walter could already see the potential difficulties in getting Anne, with her mild manners, understated tastes and intellectual bent, to conform to the usual socialite mold. So for Anne, Walter would be satisfied to settle for Charles as a backup choice; the Musgroves were certainly wealthy enough even if they didn't show it. They didn't like the pretentiousness of the country-club set, so they'd chosen to live in the neighboring suburb of St. Clair Shores, instead of in Grosse Pointe itself. Charles and Anne had been classmates in private school from kindergarten through eighth grade, and Anne had spent many afternoons playing at the Musgroves' home after school. That arrangement had suited Anne very well - she'd liked the homey atmosphere at the Musgroves', where Lucy was always baking something or other, much better than the cold, formal feel that Walter contrived at his large, historical mansion.
Charles had been a short, pudgy kid with always-unkempt hair and round metal-rimmed glasses; on top of that, he'd always been something of a mommy's boy, having been an only child until the twins Henrietta and Louisa came into the picture when he was fifteen. He had been the kind of kid everybody liked to make fun of - the bigger boys bullied him, the girls teased him, and the adults liked to pinch his cheeks. Being an easy-going, good-natured kid, mostly he'd just laughed it off. And through it all, Anne had never stopped being kind to him.
On the first day of kindergarten, Charles had promptly burst into tears once his mommy disappeared from the crowd of anxious parents by the window. Upon seeing Charles in distress, Anne had scampered all the way across the classroom to comfort him, ending up bawling in sympathy herself.
During first and second grades, there had been a period of time when the bigger boys threw Charles' lunch in the mud every day. Afterwards, Anne had always come to Charles to share her lunch with him. And Charles, in gratitude, had told her that he would marry her when they grew up.
In third grade, Anne had convinced their teacher to put on An American Tail for the school play, and to cast Charles in the lead role as Fievel. Naturally Anne had played Tanya, and the chemistry evident in their rendition of Somewhere Out There had brought the house down. Every year after that, they had reprised the roles until they outgrew them.
As they grew older, Charles had learned how to look after Anne a little, too. He'd badgered his parents to always keep a set of his old play clothes for Anne, so she could change out of those ridiculously fancy dresses and heels that Walter made his girls wear to school, every time she visited at the Musgrove home after school. On some afternoons, Charles had brought Anne to join Henry at their Detroit garage instead of going home. In exchange for Anne's help with his homework, Charles had introduced Anne to the Musgroves' extensive collection of classic and sports cars, which included a 1940s Bugatti, a '50s Cadillac Eldorado with the trademark tail fins, a Mercedes 300SL with the gullwing doors, and a spanking new Porsche 911 Targa, amongst others. At school, Anne had always failed art because she used too many lines and not enough colors; yet by the time they were in fifth grade, Anne could draw a detailed reproduction of just about any car in the Musgrove garage, and add her own original design details to boot. If she hadn't gotten interested in aircraft, Anne would definitely have ended up in the automotive business. After all, the Elliots had started out with gasoline in their blood, and in the current generation, all of it had gone to Anne.
"Let's watch a movie," Charles suggested. "I know The People vs. Larry Flynt would be right up your alley, but since that isn't out yet, why don't you humor me with Jerry Maguire?"
Anne shrugged. She wasn't particularly in the mood for a romantic comedy and it had been quite a few years since she'd outgrown her childhood crush on Tom Cruise, but it didn't feel right to brush Charles off when coming to see her was practically the first thing he did for winter break.
"OK, but on one condition. I still haven't properly seen this baby of yours yet." Anne gestured at the Civic, though they both knew very well what she meant. "After the movie, can we go to the garage? It'd be great if you could show me your latest handiwork."
That was how they ended up lying side-by-side on the garage floor, looking at the undercarriage of the jacked-up car as Charles explained the various modifications he'd made. Over the years, they had done this many times before, and it had all been perfectly innocent. Yet this time, Anne felt that things were different, uneasy. Perhaps it was because they were older now, or perhaps it had something to do with how she was suddenly conscious of just how tight a space they were in. Somehow, it didn't seem quite so innocent anymore, and Anne wasn't sure she liked that feeling.
High school and college had done Charles plenty of favors; somewhere along the way, he'd shed the pudgy look and become fairly good-looking in a laid-back kind of way. Berkeley suited him well; the relaxed hippie culture appealed to him, and to the Musgroves' consternation, he hadn't cut his hair all semester, so it was long enough to pull back into a stubby ponytail. California being a hotbed for the swing revival of the '90s, Charles had also been fully swept up by the swing and jitterbug craze. It didn't take him long to look up the local swing clubs; by the next time he visited the Elliots, he'd put together a series of swing events to take Anne to over winter break.
Anne was no stranger to dancing; she couldn't possibly be when Walter had deemed it appropriate for each of his girls to have a debutante party when they reached the age of sixteen. But Anne was starting to find the whole business of partner dancing stressful rather than enjoyable, especially when combined with all the social dynamics of the high school and college dating scene. At eighteen going on nineteen, Anne still wasn't sure if she knew what she wanted in a life partner just yet, and though she knew her thinking was conservative by today's social norms, she wasn't comfortable with getting too intimate with anyone unless she was sure she wanted to be serious about the relationship. Dancing in itself might be simple, but one thing usually led to another and especially where Charles was concerned, she didn't want to start giving him ideas. It could ruin their friendship, perhaps forever, if they entered into a dating relationship before they - she, at least - were ready.
All the tension between Charles and Anne came to a head the first time they went for swing together. To start with, Charles was disappointed when Anne asked him to let Mary tag along. After practicing all the swing and Lindy steps with her friends at boarding school, Mary was more than eager to show off her newfound skills. But Charles didn't like the idea of adding a whiny fourteen-year-old to their party at all. This was to be his special time with Anne, and it would be all too short before they both went back to college again.
The event kicked off with a simple dance lesson to orientate everyone to the basic steps of swing and Lindy Hop. Charles led Anne to a corner of the room - he wanted to be the one to show Anne how to swing, so much for the instructor. That left Anne with her hands full between trying to subtly maneuver Charles into following the instructor and paying less attention to her, while also getting the feel of the rollicking beat of swing music, which was unlike the more structured classical partner dances she was used to. It was easy enough to do the one-two-rock-step of basic swing, but when it evolved into the complicated Lindy Hop, Anne decided she'd had enough.
"I'm sorry, Charles. I guess I'm not cut out to do swing. Why don't you dance with Mary for a change? You'll have more fun with a partner who's closer to your level of ability, and I'm sure she's probably tired of sitting at the sidelines."
Talk about Hobson's choice - if it wasn't Mary pouting, then it was Charles, since Mary wanted to dance, period, and Charles wanted to dance with Anne. Still, Anne resolutely sat out the rest of the evening. Mary could have her fun, and as for Charles, he'd been doing swing all semester without her, so he should know what to do. To everyone else, the couple on the dance floor was perfect - Charles and Mary had perfect technique, perfect timing and at least as far as their physical movements were concerned, both of them were completely in sync with each other.
One-two, three-and-four; five-six, seven-and-eight. Charles and Mary whirled around, faster and fancier as the night wore on. It was only Anne who noticed that far from paying full attention to his partner, Charles was taking every opportunity to sneak a glance at her.
For all the subsequent times Charles went for swing that winter, Anne begged out, and Mary was more than happy to take her place instead.
It was an Elliot family tradition to invite the Musgroves over for Christmas dinner every year. Walter relished the opportunity to showcase his hospitality and the fineness of the Elliot house, while Anne and Mary welcomed the extra warmth and activity that chased away the emptiness, making the Elliot mansion feel more like a real home even if it was only for one day every year.
Every year, they would tuck into a sumptuous spread, then open the presents over dessert. Being the only kids left in the Elliot and Musgrove families now that even Mary considered herself quite grown up, the twins were the first to launch into the pile under the Christmas tree, leaving a colorful trail of torn wrapping paper across the floor. They were at the age when everything had to be pink, frilly and princess-y, so Anne got them pink-and-purple matching ballet tutus, which the little girls insisted on wearing immediately. With Hetty and Lulu happily trotting around smearing chocolate from the log cake everywhere, including their brand-new tulle skirts, it was time for Charles and the Elliot girls to exchange their gifts.
Anne had been apprehensive at first when opening the fat package from Charles, but when she saw the hippie-style fringed leather vest inside, she was delighted.
"Thank you," she breathed. It was the easiest moment she'd had with Charles in the past couple of weeks.
"I'm glad you like it. I wanted to bring a piece of Berkeley to you."
Charles couldn't wait to rip the wrapping paper off the flat, boxy package Anne handed to him. It was the current edition of the NASCAR Playstation game. He clapped Anne on the shoulder in a brotherly gesture.
"Holy cow! I've been waiting for this for ages. Anne, how do you always know exactly what I'm looking for?"
In that moment, things went back to what they'd been before, with the same easy camaraderie they'd had growing up almost as brother and sister over the years. They were Fievel and Tanya again. Anne was relieved - she wasn't sure she was ready to cope with anything more from Charles just yet.
Chapter Notes:
Canon Divergence - I felt that it would be very confusing (and also not in line with a modern day context) to have three generations of Musgroves named Charles, so I've changed the first name of the most senior Musgrove.
