I'm pretty thrilled with how this chapter turned out. I hope you guys like it, too! Thank you for reading and reviewing! Are you guys ready for Laurens Christmas shenanigans in the next chapter or so? Enjoy!
Over the week Polly fell in love with the city, caught up in the sensory overload that was the big apple. I found ways to keep myself busy so I wouldn't spoil the surprise I'd been planning for John. Holing myself up in my study and listening to John and Polly have fun in the other room, baking, watching movies, talking about their lives, the occasional knock-down drag out pillow fight I definitely wanted no part in that terrifying act.
I was in my study, still staring at the admission essay on Columbia's website, I'd drafted it nearly a hundred times tonight, but it was as good as it was going to get. I clicked submit and waited, rolling my chair to the window to smoke - technically - outside. This is stupid, this is a waste of time. You have a job, you like writing. Why would you even want to be a lawyer? You don't like people, why make a life of defending them. I took a drag on the cigarette and continued warring with my mind, I don't like people, but I don't like systems more, maybe I could fix systems, write new ones into existence. I'm a fine writer, but I'm not ever going to write anything that will really make a difference, my legacy isn't writing articles, but it could be in law. I can still write, write about the constitution and defend it, write policies and defend them. Write about kids who make mistakes and defend them. Still… it's probably stupid. I snuffed the butt of the cigarette out and stuck it in an empty coffee mug, pretending that it was an ashtray, just like I pretend John couldn't tell I smoked in here.
I worked my lip until it bled, washing the metallic taste out with the dregs of a cold cup of coffee, the silt at the end of the cup left my mouth feeling gritty, staring at the dialogue box on the computer 'thank you for submitting your essay, please allow 24-48 for a response. Regards, the Columbia admissions department".
John knocked on the door, it was late, Polly probably wanted to go to bed so he was coming to find me, spend a little bit of time together alone. He crinkled his nose when the stale, smoky air hit him, I shot him a nervous smile and he shook his head, closing the distance between us he perched on my desk, legs swinging but almost touching the ground on either side of my chair, he stooped to kiss me, moving his lips to my collarbones he took a deep breath through his nose against my neck, a low hum vibrating his throat.
"How do cigarettes smell so good on you and so bad everywhere else?" He pondered.
"Sorry," I flicked my eyes away, not wanting to look at him.
"It's fine, babe, we'll get one of those draft stop thingies for the door and an automatic air freshener on a timer thingy."
"That's a lot of 'thingies', John." I teased and nuzzled against him, putting my hands on his hips.
"Shut up," he whined, "words are your department, not mine."
"Well, thank God for that."
"You're the worst." He laughed and shoved against my chest.
"I'm so glad you finally figured that out. I've been telling you for months now."
He pulled away from me so I could see him pull a face.
Once we were in bed he curled up against me, I was tangling my fingers through his hair, trying to relax, fingers twitching for a smoke.
"I can't believe tomorrow's Polly's last day here, it's been so good having her here."
"I know. It has been nice. You're pretty cute being all 'big-brotherly,'"
"Whatever, I am not."
"You totally are," we fell comfortably silent for a few minutes, "I applied for law school."
John propped himself on an elbow and cupped my cheek in his free hand, "really?"
I nodded in the darkness.
"That's spectacular, Alex. I hope you get in. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, we'll see, admission deadline was today, so I mean, they probably already have their candidates."
"Just have to wait and find out. Damn, I'm gonna be with a lawyer. You're gonna make a trophy wife out of me, Alexander Hamilton."
"Ha, yeah, right," I rolled my eyes, "let's see if I even get into school before you start power walking with the other middle aged rich white ladies in our Beverly Hills neighbourhood."
He put on a faraway dreamy voice, "but it's my dream, all my life I've wanted matching velour Juicy Couture tracksuits with the word 'juicy' in sequins across my ass."
"Who am I to deny you of your dreams?"
He giggled and lie back down, tucking himself against my back, one arm under my neck, the other holding onto my hip. We fell asleep smiling, my anxiety dissipating.
John had taken the day off to spend Polly's last day with her, he was cooking dinner, I was helping Polly finish an essay she had been given over the winter break, she'd pulled a kitchen chair into my study and sat at my desk with me, both of us staring into her laptop. I squinted and pointed to a line of text.
"Okay, here, this is technically fine, but you've got a dangling participle thing going right here, that makes it a little bit confusing for your reader to remember who or what you're talking about."
She turned to me, confusion glazing her face, "a dangly who?"
I shook my head and scoffed, "do any Laurens children have a comprehensive grasp of the English language or is this just another example of living in the world of an underfunded Department of Education?"
"Dude, I have a C in English, a low C, I'm barely scraping by."
"Ugh, we'll fix that, you can skype me once you're home and the new semester starts. We'll get that grade back up, English is important, our words are who we are, if you can't craft words well, your significance dwindles. You're significant, Polly, we'll teach you how to write like it."
She quirked her mouth to the side and blushed, "thanks for your help."
"Don't mention it, anyway, so when you have a dangling participle that just means that you have a participle, so that's like verb, so an action word, but you turn it into a participle when you use it like an adjective, so like you're essentially describing someone or something by them being a person who does something or has this quality about them, 'so here you've used 'born' as your participle, and then you leave it to dangle when you don't attach it to the thing your discussing. So Hamlet, you know Hamlet, right?"
She stared blankly at me and feigned understanding, "yay, Hamlet!"
"'Yay, Hamlet.' Jesus, come on, America, fund your schools… Okay, so Hamlet, great work or literature, but anyway, there's this line, 'Sleeping in mine orchard, a serpent stung me.' So there, you've got this dangling participle of 'sleeping', it's describing what's happening, but you're left being all like, 'what? Who's sleeping, they're in an orchard?' But if he'd said, 'I was sleeping in mine orchard, a serpent stung me' it would be all good because you give a subject for the participle to hang on to, but I mean he's Shakespeare, so he can dangle whatever he wants to. Makes sense?"
"I… think so…"
"Cool, well give that bad boy a subject to hang on to, I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette and then I'll come see how you're doing."
"Can you see if John's almost done with dinner, too."
"You got it."
I left the study and found John setting the table for three, looking disappointed, "Laf's not coming, I guess he's sick."
"Bummer, he okay?" That weasely little Frenchman, I shook my head and restrained a laugh.
"I guess he's fine, supposed to be there in the morning. How's the paper going?"
"It makes me question the entire South Carolinian school system, but comforts me to know that your being terrible at English isn't just your problem. Gonna step out for a minute."
"Cool, dinner's almost ready."
I nodded and stepped out onto the balcony, pulling out my phone to scroll Twitter, Lafayette had texted me earlier, I said I was sick, too nervous I'll spoil everything, see you tomorrow!
I shook my head and laughed around the cigarette in between my lips, Lafayette made himself incredibly scarce this week after almost ruining the surprise on three separate occasions. John noticed his absence and was in a pissy mood.
After my cigarette, I took a final glance at the edits that Polly had made to her paper, agreeing we'd finish going over it later in the evening. We settled around the table for dinner.
"I can't believe he didn't come to see you off." John stabbed a piece of broccoli a little too hard.
"It's really okay, Jack, he said he was gonna come to the airport tomorrow and see me off then." Polly smiled sympathetically.
"He just isn't feeling that great, this shitty weather does it to everyone, it's okay." I tried to reassure him, working over my lip between my teeth to try and keep from either cracking a smile at the secret that would come to fruition in just over a dozen hours or ruining the surprise just to wipe the hurt off his face.
"Still, he could come feel shitty here. We have a couch… I made dinner."
I texted Lafayette under the table, John is so pissed at you, have fun apologizing tomorrow.
He texted me back quickly, oh no, remind him I am a good person, I just have a very large mouth.
I responded, big mouth, Laf, it's just a coincidence that you have a large mouth.
"Work bugging you? I thought the office was closed." John knit his eyebrows and looked at the phone in my hand.
"It's nothing, querido." I nudged his calf with the side of my foot.
John stared at his plate and Polly shot me a glance, lips pursed tightly to keep from smiling. I held her glance, willing her to be strong and keep it together. Knowing that we had an early start we all went to bed pretty quickly once the dishes from dinner had been washed. Out of earshot of John I agreed to finish helping her with her paper once we were all back in South Carolina.
"Still can't believe Laf didn't come over, Polly barely got to see him this whole trip, she hasn't gotten to see him in years."
"I know, he's just not feeling good. She'll see him tomorrow."
"Yeah, if he shows."
"Oh, stop, he'll show, I've never ever known him to let you down before now."
"I know. I'm just sad, too, because Polly has to go home, and I just wish I could see everyone else. Christmas sucks."
"You're in quite the mood tonight."
"I'm sorry, I'll shape up, just a weird time of year."
I thought of my own sordid history with the holiday and agreed with him, "it is, but we get to have our first Christmas together."
"I think you'll like what I got you." His voice lightened.
"I think you'll like what I got you, too." I agreed, biting hard on my lip to shut myself up.
"Ugh, I wish Polly could stay longer," John laughed to himself.
"What?" I asked in response to his fit of giggles.
"I was just remembering this one Christmas, it was so bad, everything went wrong. I don't think Polly had even come along yet, but all us kids had strep throat, Martha had the flu too, our dog knocked over the Christmas tree, it was a mess. Miss Bette burned the turkey while she and my mom were trying to clean up the Christmas tree and tend to us kids."
"Who's Miss Bette? You've never mentioned her before."
"She was one of our… I guess like governesses or nannies or maids or something, dad always hired staff for the household even though mom hated it, wanted to run her own house. Miss Bette was nice, though, she made really good PB & Js. After Miss Susie retired when I was like fifteen or sixteen, he didn't hire anyone else. I thought it was normal growing up."
"Damn, y'all on some 'Get Out' next level bullshit... governesses." I chuckled.
"I didn't like how my dad treated them… or anyone else really, but they were nice ladies."
"You grew up a million worlds away from me, John."
"Then it's even more amazing that I found you. I'd cross a million more worlds for you."