Chapter Five: Hope

It would end up being the stupidest bet of my life. Why didn't I just take her word for it?
Victor couldn't have been more surprised to hear from Patty. He had been sitting with his dad, watching a western when he heard his mom call out to him from the other room.

"Victor, telephone!"

So he had gotten up, meandered to the kitchen, and reached out his hand for the phone only for his mother to hiss, "It's a girl. When did you meet a girl?"

And that's when Victor's stomach flipped over. He knew it had to be Patty, and it was the call he had hoped for without thinking it could actually happen.

So he had insisted to his mother that it was just a girl he had gone out with last week, and that he had, indeed, told his mother about it. No, it wasn't anything serious. Finally his mother handed over the phone, but to Victor's unease, stayed seated right where she was.

The phone call wasn't anything like he had imagined it might be. Patty sounded shaky and out of breath, and pleaded with him to come pick her up and get her out of the house. But she wouldn't tell him what was the matter and Victor didn't want to press the issue in front of his mom. So he agreed to pick her up, and told her he'd be there in twenty minutes.

The truth was, their date the week before had been wonderful, but it hadn't wooed Patty the way he hoped it would. They had had a very nice conversation, and had parted amicably with Victor giving Patty his telephone number, but Patty had given him no indication that she ever wanted to go out with him again. Aside from wanting to see his sister's band, of course, but in Victor's mind that didn't really count. And so, being a man of his word, Victor had decided to wait to hear from her instead of pursuing her. But it had been over a week, and Victor had all but given up hope until the unexpected Saturday phone call.

It had to be a good sign.

He told his mom he was going out, picked up his car keys off the counter and flew out the door.

The second he pulled up to Patty's house she opened the door and got in the car, slamming the door shut and pulling on her seatbelt. Then she sat forward, rubbing at her eyes tiredly.

"What's wrong?" asked Victor. "What's going on?"

"Just drive, Victor. Please," said Patty quietly. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go somewhere."

"Okay," said Victor. "No problem."

He decided to take her to the beach, and so that was how they ended up sitting in the sand, shoes off, staring at the Pacific Ocean. Patty still hadn't said anything else.

"You really threw my mom for a loop when you called," said Victor, once again attempting to start a conversation.

"Sorry."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it was a bad thing," he said. "I love when it happens. My mom's kind of judgmental and likes to pry into my life. It's good to throw her a curve ball every so often."

"And I'm a curve ball?"

Victor smiled. "You're a girl, and you're calling for me. That's the biggest curve ball of all. Sometimes I think my mom still thinks of me like a little kid. Her precious baby boy."

Patty let out a short, bitter laugh. "Must be a mom thing," she said. "Mine is the same way."

Victor nodded, sensing the conversation would take a downward turn again when Patty added, "That's why I'm in a bad mood. I got in a fight with her."

"Bad one?"

"Probably the worst," said Patty. "Or at least, it's probably the worst thing I've ever said to my mom." She shook her head and drew her knees up to her chest. "I can usually control my temper better," she said. "I don't like fights."

"You're a better person than I am then," said Victor. "It's rare when I can hold my temper."

"Hot head."

"You better believe it."

They fell into silence for another moment and Patty took the opportunity to lower her left hand to the ground, shifting the sand around. Victor glanced at it and then back toward the skyline. He shouldn't take her hand. Couldn't. No way.

"Thanks for picking me up on such short notice," said Patty. "I really appreciate it."

"Oh, yeah," said Victor. "Any time."

Why was he being so wary of this? Usually he just did what his instincts told him, he didn't sit there debating them. Why now?

"It's good to have another friend close by," she continued. "I mean, I'm friends with some of the other girls at the diner, but I couldn't exactly go to them with something like this. And with Susan on the other side of the country, well, you know."

"So we're friends now?" asked Victor.

Patty raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah," she said. "I guess we're friends."

They were friends. That's why he couldn't hold up her hand. He couldn't ruin something he just got.

She opened her purse and pulled out a pen and paper, scribbling something down. When she was done she handed it to him.

"So friends get to have your telephone number?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yeah," said Patty. She put the pen back in her purse. "Just..." She bit her lip. "Just don't call for a few days. I don't want you to throw my mom a curve ball before we make up."

"The fight was that bad?" He was teasing her, but she didn't seem to sense it.

"I told her it was a good thing that I was an only child."

Victor tore his eyes from the paper and glanced at her. "That's the worst thing you could have said to your mom?" he said incredulously. Patty gave him a look that seemed to say, "Of course! Isn't it obvious?" "I...I guess I just expected a lot worse," he said.

"That's pretty much the worst I could say," said Patty. "My mom wanted three girls, but after me the doctor told her she couldn't have any more children. So one girl instead. It was kind of devastating."

"Three girls, huh?" he said. He tucked the paper into the pocket of his jeans. "At least you were a girl. Imagine if you had been a boy."

Patty laughed. "Not too likely," she said. "There have only been five boys born into my mom's side of the family in the past two hundred years."

"Wow," said Victor, not sure if he was more surprised by the statistic or the fact that she knew that much about her family history. "The statistic doesn't really matter that much though," he said. "It's still a fifty-fifty chance every time."

Patty smirked and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll bet you fifty dollars that all my children are girls."

Victor reached up and rubbed his ear, slightly perplexed. "So you're like your mom then?" he asked. "You don't want any boys?"

Patty shook her head. "If I had all boys I'd love them as much as I'd love them if they were girls. But I still bet I have girls."

Victor nodded slowly and stuck out his hand. "You've got a bet," he said. "Fifty dollars."

And finally, Patty's hand was in his, shaking it. "Fifty dollars."

They left soon after that, and made it to Patty's house just as it was beginning to get dark.

"I hope things go all right with your mom," said Victor as Patty undid her seatbelt.

"They will," said Patty. "Eventually. It might just take her a few days to calm down."

Victor nodded.

"Well, goodnight," said Patty.

"'Night."

And from his car he watched her go up the stairs and let herself into the house, silently hoping for a million things at once. For Patty and her mom to make up. For the strength to wait a few days to call her. For Patty to call him before he called her. For Patty to want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her. But just in case that would never happen, most of all he hoped he had the strength to be just friends with Patricia Halliwell.