"Okay, I'm gonna need this again in real talk," says Patty. She is lucky that her speaking voice is naturally louder than the average person's, for Patty can barely hear herself over the whooping and cheering. It's a product of growing up in a family of twelve, all of whom had full-court projection. Patty Tolan has never had trouble being heard.
Her friends don't make her feel dumb when she asks for clarification. Though, she finds it difficult to get her scientist friends to slow down enough to properly explain physics concepts that would throw even the brightest doctoral student. Patty has found academics are potentially some of the worst communicators. Take Holtzy and Erin, for example. Abby had filled Patty in on the damage-control she'd done. It didn't take an advanced degree to figure out the blatant misunderstanding. Abby assumed Holtz's flirtation with Erin is superficial, when it so clearly is not. Not that Holtz had said anything on the subject, but Patty considers herself a rather intuitive person: People are like books. Sure, you can read what's written on the page, but real meaning comes from subtext. So, she knows Holtz harbors real feelings for Erin, but doesn't trust herself enough to know the difference and has heeded Abby's warning, however misguided. And this assumption is based on an array of subtextual clues: hasty looks, blushes, stumbling words, nervous hands. And Gilbert, well, she is more difficult to read. Patty suspects that Erin doesn't even know how Erin feels.
"Calm down, yo!" Patty wraps two large hands over Holtzmann's narrow shoulders and pushes down, attempting to still the bouncing engineer.
Abby and Erin have locked hands and are whirling each other around the firehouse, like a pair of dervishes.
"We're geniuses!" calls Abby, finally winding down, "Oh, I'm dizzy."
"Booyah!" agrees Holtzmann.
"Sorry, Patty," says Erin, crossing back to Abby's desk where Patty had planted herself, "It's just… well, this is really an historic moment in physics."
"Go on, Einstein," says Patty.
"Last night, Holtzmann found the nuclear particle that made Rowan's breach possible-"
"I hate to say it, but the little vermit was clever," chimes Holtzmann.
"But," continues Erin, "he couldn't control the breach. It was either small, localized portals or… you know, a vortex the size of New York."
"So, using his nuclear structure," Abby cuts in, "our formulas and Holtzmann's cyclotron schematics-"
"We can cross the divide by molecularly splitting apart and re-materializing on the other side," finishes Erin.
"I'm calling it the Ghost Mitosis," says Holtzmann, doing a little two-step, "Catchy, huh?"
"Mmk Shakespeare," says Patty, "So, what ya'll are telling me is that we can get to the ghosts before the ghosts get to us?"
"Precisely," says Abby.
"I've already started drafting an augmentation to the existing cyclotron," says Holtzmann. Erin gives the engineer a melty kind of smile that is only noticed by Patty.
"That's the craziest shit I ever heard!" says Patty.
"Admittedly, I thought it was a bit whackadoo myself," says Holtzmann, "but, if the science is right- which it is- it's an inevitability."
"If this doesn't get us a Nobel Prize, I don't know what will," says Erin, a little dreamily.
"Only if I get the Peace Prize for dealing with you crazy bitches," says Patty, though affectionately. Her friends' enthusiasm is infectious.
"I say a celebration is in order," says Abby, nearly galloping to the kitchenette at the back of the firehouse. She pulls open the fridge and pokes her head inside. "Hmm… only one pickle and a half-eaten cupcake."
"I'll go get beer!" volunteers Holtzmann.
"I'll go with you," says Erin, quickly, "to, you know, help you carry it because I'm stronger than this noodle-like form suggests."
Patty does not miss the look that passes between Holtzmann and Abby. "Abby and I will order wings and shit," she says.
"Hands in, team!" says Holtzmann, throwing her hand out like a varsity jock. No one moves. "Or not. Come on, Gilbert, to the batmobile!"
Erin follows Holtzmann out the door like a lost puppy.
New York in early autumn is the city at its best. The air is crisp and cool, some of the heady smells have dissipated with the heat, and you can actually see some faint stars in the clear sky above. Erin shivers. Though taller, Erin finds herself jogging to keep pace with Holtzmann.
"Hey, slow down, champ!" she calls.
Holtzmann looks over her shoulder and quells her pace, allowing Erin to catch up. "Trying to keep your organs in?"
Erin raises an eyebrow, then looks down at her arms wrapped around her thin frame like a human tamale. "No, I'm just cold."
Immediately, Holtzmann shrugs off her leather jacket and drapes it around Erin's shoulders. Is this flirting? No, it's not flirting. It's practicum. Her friend is cold, she is not, transfer jacket- problem solved. In truth, Abby's admonition had really resounded in Holtzmann's brain. It checked and informed each of her interactions with Erin. And she wasn't a complete dingbat; she knew she was giving Erin whiplash. But, Abby was right: Erin needs a friend, not someone incapable of commitment, of normal dating ritual or of owning a good hairbrush. Someone like herself. Holtzmann didn't trust herself with Erin, didn't trust her feelings. Outliers do not make good data points for a readable delta curve. So, she had been suppressing and questioning her innate attraction to the physicist, erring on Abby's better judgement. The only risk in this contingency is that Erin would think she was weird, unknowable. Really, what's the difference?
Yet, there's that small smile on her face. That soft look in her eyes when she pushes her arms through the jacket. The quiet "thank you" on her lips. Holtzmann turns away sharply and continues on her trajectory toward the convenient store.
"Yeah, that's what I said, son- four pineapple pizzas, one half-mushroom, half-bacon, three orders of spicy buffalo wings. Aw, hell no, you didn't just say that. No, it ain't for a party. It's just for me, bitch! I'm a grown ass woman! You clearly ain't never had a curvy woman in your life!"
Abby lays a hand on Patty's arm: "Patty, they're gonna jerk off on our food if you keep going."
Patty narrows her eyes and finishes berating the pizza boy. "Worst phone etiquette I ever heard. If his Mama only knew…"
"They've been gone a long time. Don't you think they're been gone a long time?" says Abby, wringing her hands together.
"What? Who?"
"Holtz and Erin."
"Girl, it's like an eight-block walk, and plus, they both got chicken arms."
"I'm gonna text Erin-" Abby pulls out her phone.
"Alright, I've had it," says Patty, swatting the phone out of Abby's hand, "you're like a clucking mother hen with those two."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, live and let live. If Holtzy and Erin got the hots for each other, that's their own business."
"Ew, gross," whines Abby.
"Really? I think it's cute as shit what they got going, but not when you're meddling around and making them more anxious than they need to be about it."
"Okay, okay, I know. Not my business. But, don't you think it would be weird? We work together and, on top of that, we're friends. It would just mess up the group vibe, don't you think?"
"Girl, it's already messing up the vibe. Can't you see that those two are like gaping fishes around each other, swimming 'round the issue, 'cus they think you're gonna be mad. Man, love is one of those things that should be simple, but it never is."
"Whoa, hold on, love? Nah, this is just a stupid infatuation. Erin just likes the attention and Holtzmann, well, I've never seen her serious about anyone."
"First time for everything, right? Plus, you blind as a bat, Abby." Patty plucks Abby's glasses off her face and holds them high overhead.
Abby jumps at the dangling glasses, "You're such an Amazonian. Asshole."
Just then, the side door bangs open and Holtzmann comes swinging through backward, two cases of beer tucked under her arms.
"You're such a chauvinist!" says Erin, entering after her, a light bag of limes clutched in her hands.
"Chivalry isn't dead, sweet cheeks," says Holtzmann, nearly dropping a case.
Abby finally manages to grab her glasses and sticks them back on. When she does, she sees Erin blushing like a schoolgirl, wearing Holtzmann's leather jacket like a letterman. By God, she's right, thinks Abby. Patty is a genius.
