A/N: This chapter's a bit long, but I couldn't bring myself to make any cuts! Here is the dramatic night out betwixt Zelda and her new employee...
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True to her word, Zelda arrived back at her home around seven. She opened the front door and the first thing Malon said was, "Whoa, you look beat."
"Do I?" Zelda asked rhetorically. She rubbed her eyes and set down her bag. "I'll be right back. I need to cover up these hideous bags under my eyes."
"Cool." Malon followed Zelda through the kitchen. When the former came to an abrupt stop, the red-head nearly bumped into her.
Zelda had stopped by Malon's open photo album. It was open on a picture of her sister Deborah giving her a bear hug. Her fingers slowly traced the grin of her sister, broad and opened wide in laughter. Zelda thought of Schreiber as a small smile briefly appeared on her own face, only to vanish as soon as it had come. Thoughtlessly she closed the book and kept walking towards her room. She suddenly turned swiftly on the spot, catching her friend by surprise.
"Why are you following me?" Zelda asked inquisitively.
"Uh, no reason," Malon said, shrugging. "Just kind of wanted to see what your room looked like, is all."
"I'd rather you didn't," Zelda said frankly, looking as if it pained her to have to say it. Her hand was on the doorknob, though she didn't seem to be making any movements indicating she'd be opening it any time soon.
"Oh, okay," Malon said, masking her surprise/confusion. "I'll just uh, yeah…" Zelda was staring at her, tacitly telling her to leave or turn around. Raising an eyebrow, Malon slowly turned on the spot and walked back towards the kitchen. Stopping at the counter, she heard a door close.
Maybe Saria is right, she thought to herself. Zelda seems a little off… Flipping hastily through her album, Malon found the photograph her friend had been so fondly gazing at a moment ago: both girls seemed to be laughing, the older one hugging the baby of the family from behind. They were also both holding water guns; Zelda's was in danger of falling out of her hand, her sister's pointed jokingly at Zelda's temple.
Deb and Zelda at my 16th Birthday Party.
Deborah's ponytail was starting to come out, as the strands flying in a curve around her face proved. She wore a black bathing suit with sopping wet cargoes over it. Zelda's blonde mane, half-dry and half-wet, went down to nearly her waist. She hadn't been as ready to get wet as her sister it seemed, because Zelda was wearing a white (oops!) T-shirt under classic '90s denim overalls, one of the straps of which was hanging provocatively off her shoulder.
Frowning, Malon looked back at the closed door behind which Zelda had disappeared a moment ago. She tried to picture Zelda wearing overalls, or being in a water gun fight, or laughing so hard it pushed her to tears. No image came up in Malon's mind. Why not? Sighing, she shut the book. All this business of going down memory lane was getting depressing.
A couple moments later, Zelda returned to the kitchen. She was dressed in a knee-length black skirt and a white button-up blouse with ¾ length sleeves. Her face she'd given a small make-up job and all her loose hairs had been combed into place. A muted red color adorned her almond-shaped fingernails.
"You look very nice," Malon said politely.
"Well, I try," Zelda said with a sardonic air of indifference, straightening her ironed blouse needlessly. "So. Where is he, Mal?"
She looked lost for a moment. Then she shook her head of red hair and replied, "In the piano room, last I saw." Automatically she started walking in that direction, and Zelda followed suit.
"So what's in this room, anyway?" Malon asked, nodding at the locked doors. "Trying to hide some big secret, Zelda? What's inside?"
"Nothing," the blonde replied. "Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies."
"Uh-huh…" Malon cleared her throat and raised her voice. "Hey Link, play time's over, pal."
Link, who had been twirling a pair of xylophone sticks for Megan's amusement, quickly straightened. "Oh, right, sorry—evening, Ms. Cleverly."
"Hi, mom!" Megan cried.
"Hello," came the response.
As the two of them began to tidy up the room a tad, Malon turned to Zelda and muttered, "I kind of like him, you know. So for my sake, try to lay off him and not scare him too much, okay?"
"Oh, I'll be especially obsequious," Zelda mocked her, hitching a purse onto her shoulder. "Goddesses, Malon, I'll bring him back in one piece. Stop worrying."
Folding her arms and sighing, Malon said, "Okay, okay." She put on a smile as Link and Malon finally came out of the room. "Well, Link, don't you look nice."
He raised his eyebrows. "Uh, thanks?"
"Mommy," Megan said, tugging Zelda's hand. "Mommy, would you read to me?"
Slowly, Zelda withdrew her hand. "Sorry, honey, but I have extremely important business to attend to…concerning your new friend over here."
Megan looked from her mother to Link. "Oh! Why, is he in trouble?"
"No, no, he isn't in trouble," Zelda said, as Malon hastily turned a laugh into a hacking cough.
"Good, 'cause he shouldn't be. Link is awesome!"
"Well, recommendations don't come much better than that," Malon said, Zelda nodding in agreement.
"I think you'll be asleep when I get home," Zelda remarked. She turned to Malon. "She should be getting in bed within the hour, all right?"
"Yup."
"Mom, no, I want to stay up 'til you get home," Malon said, sticking out her lower lip sadly.
"No, Megan," Zelda said in a firm tone, putting her hands on her hips so the girl wouldn't reach for one of them again. "And I don't want you to give Malon any trouble while we're gone, okay? Go to bed when she says."
"Fine," Megan grumbled, folding her arms and looking sullen.
"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink," Malon said in an undertone to Zelda as the blonde nodded Link towards the door.
"Watch me lead this horse," Zelda muttered back with a smirk, following Link outside. Shutting the door, she said, "Night."
Having waited for her on the doormat, Link walked in Zelda's wake as they went towards her Lexus. As she got into the car, Link hurriedly attempted to flatten his hair. Stepping into the vehicle, he inhaled a little deeply—he almost didn't let it out, because he was afraid his breath was too dirty for the car's air.
It was immaculately clean to the point that made Link wonder if either its owner was a germaphobe or if she had just bought the car this very afternoon. Not a speck of dirt, blade of grass, even the tiniest piece of gravel seemed to intrude on the perfect cleanliness of the car. As they pulled out of the driveway, Link also took note of the windows, how not one square inch seemed dirtied in any way.
"Sorry if my obsessive cleaning bothers you," said Zelda, who had been watching him inspect the interior of her car. She adjusted her rear view mirror slightly and pulled out of the driveway. "It's just that this is one of the few places where I am almost always alone, and I don't care for cluttered areas."
"Oh, yeah, I understand," Link said casually, trying to remember the last time he had bothered to clean his truck. Hoping he didn't come off as sounding sarcastic, he added, "Makes perfect sense."
"I really wanted to thank you for picking up this job so quickly," Zelda went on after a short silence. "I really appreciate it."
"Hey, right back at ya," Link said amiably, staring straight in front of them. "I really, really needed this job."
"Megan seems to like you. I'll tell you right now that already you're doing quite well, considering that girl's standards."
He wasn't sure how he was supposed to reply to that. "Oh, um…cool. I like her, she's loads better than other kids I've had to watch after."
Hearing this surprised her, he could tell. Zelda did not say anything, but the contracting eyebrows and small lump that seemed to have formed in her throat said it all without words. She made a turn near a street lamp, and Link stole a glance to see her face briefly illuminated; he saw snitches of weariness, sadness, and a heavy gravity.
"How about my friend Malon?" Zelda asked abruptly. "Has she been more of a hindrance than a help, or just a presence?" Something of a lame question, but Zelda had felt a foreign intuition that the status of her self-confidence had been falling. She had to get back on top, had to prove to Link she was always on the ball.
"Oh, she's been great, really great," Link replied right away. "She's…been nice to have around, actually. Helped to get my room painted."
"Really? So you got that taken care of today, then?"
"Yeah, we started fairly early in the morning," Link answered, beginning to feel less tense. "Megan and Malon both accompanied me to the paint store, and we settled on a nice green color."
"Green, what shade?" She chastised herself the moment after she said it because of the suspicious sharpness that had been unintentionally planted in her voice.
The edge of nervousness in his responding tone told her that he had (somewhat unfortunately) picked up on this, too. "Well, it's, you know…a muted sort of forest green color. Not really like, bright or intense or anything…it's a low value…"
"Sounds quite lovely," Zelda replied, less hard but not softly. "I can be sort of tyrannical when it comes to paint colors, but it sounds as if you have good taste."
The awkwardness of the weird subject was thankfully lifted when Zelda pulled into the restaurant's parking lot. Silently the two of them got out of the car and walked towards the door. Before they could go in, however, a voice rang out calling to them.
"Hey, Zelda!" Schreiber shouted, running up to them. "What's up?"
"Hey, Eliza," Zelda said, noting the excited glint in her eyes and full aware of what it was there for.
"Link Vaughn, oh my gosh!" Eliza cried, pulling a surprised expression. "It has been AGES!"
She shook his hand, and Link gave her a very confused stare. Then something clicked, and he smiled apprehensively. "Eliza Schreiber, wow! I haven't seen you in years, ever since high school!"
A pinkish glow came onto Eliza's cheeks, and Zelda could tell it wasn't makeup. "My goodness, what the heck are ya doin' way out here?"
Putting his hands in his pockets, Link said, "Well, I was…I guess I was just looking for a change of scenery, and my parents live out here, so I thought what they hey, you know? I was kind of looking for a job, and uh, Ms. Cleverly lives right next to my parents and employed me."
"Wow, that's fantastic!" Schreiber said enthusiastically. "Zelda and I work at the same firm, actually."
"So you finally fulfilled your fondest dream of becoming a top-rate lawyer, huh?"
"Lawyer yes, top-rate, no," Schreiber told him ruefully but with a pleasant smile. "I'm afraid that title would belong to your boss over there."
"Thanks for the flattery, Eliza," Zelda said, sounding unemotional. "What're you doing here anyway, meeting someone?"
"Yup, my hot date," Schreiber replied, giving the last word special enunciation. "A.k.a. my husband. Oops, there he is now." She raised her voice and waved. "Hey, Michael, over here!"
"Eliza, hi!" he called back, walking over.
"Well, have fun," Zelda said. "See you around."
"Yeah—hey, Link, it was great seeing you again! Maybe we'll bump into each other some other time!"
"Sure, yeah, that would be cool," Link agreed, shaking her hand once more. "Nice to see you." He pondered the randomness of seeing her as he followed Zelda into the restaurant and numbly to their booth.
"Funny, isn't it, that you both ended up way out here," Zelda said as she sat down, not looking very amused or inquisitive.
"Yeah, weird," Link snorted. "I haven't seen Eliza Schreiber in, like, six or seven years. Wow, and she's married! But it makes sense that she'd come to another big city if she moved away from New York."
"Girl with big ambitions, huh?" Zelda asked, scanning the menu even though she already knew what she wanted.
"Very big," Link confirmed, nodding and opening his own menu. He sighed. "Oh, she was a popular one, that Eliza Schreiber."
"That doesn't surprise me," Zelda said, still looking at her menu as if using it merely to keep her eyes busy. "She's a very straight-forward, uncompromising, outgoing kind of kid. Which is why she makes a great lawyer."
Thinking it was a bit rich (and maybe pretentious) of Zelda to call someone roughly her own age a "kid," Link said, "I'm sure that's true. I know she was a fantastic student. Where did you go to high school?"
"Oh, just around here," Zelda answered, closing her menu. "I was brought up solely in California; went to high school in North Hollywood."
"Hollywood? Wow, that's awesome!"
With an air of indifference, Zelda shrugged. "It was fairly interesting, I suppose you could say."
"Yeah, fairly more interesting than a small town suburban area in New York," Link snorted, a little miffed by his boss's lack of enthusiasm, something he was beginning to take for pig-headedness.
"I used to spend a lot of time cruising Lacieniga Boulevard," she said kind of randomly, like she was having an odd flashback.
"How about Sunset?" Link asked in spite of himself.
"No, not as much, actually. I don't know why. Maybe in my subconscious I was thinking of that Gloria Swanson movie and it scared me away."
Link laughed. "Afraid of signing your life away to an old-time actress?"
"Something like that." She then turned her attention towards their waiter, who had just arrived on the scene.
"Hi, I'll be your server tonight, my name's John, how y'all doin'?" he asked very quickly. "Now, have you two made up your minds, or shall it just be drink orders?"
"Are you ready, Link?" Zelda asked.
"Oh, yeah," Link said, giving John his menu. "I'll have a lemon water with the number 33. Only, does it have to be gorgonzola, or can I get bleu?"
"Bleu cheese is fine," the waiter said, making a note on his pad. "And what will it be for you, miss?"
"Number 39 and a Shirley Temple," Zelda answered unblushingly, choosing to ignore John's skeptical look. "Oh and please hold the shrimp, I'm allergic."
Nodding, John took her menu and walked away.
"Right," Zelda said, straightening and adopting a very business like expression. "If you don't mind, Link, I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"Fire away," Link said genially, shrugging his shoulders. He couldn't help adding mentally, Like I would say any different…
"Lovely. Ever held a job before now, Link?"
Making an effort not to sound indignant, Link replied, "Yes, ma'am, I have. When I was a senior in high school, I had a job taking care of the dogs in a neighborhood kennel, then in the summers I worked as a lifeguard. After that I had an extremely boring desk job with the local police station."
"You worked for the police?" Zelda inquired, sounding impressed. "How old were you at the time?"
"Ah, twenty, I guess," Link said. "I only got the job because my dad had some friends who were in the force." He laughed. "My mom was so worried that I'd get shot in the line of duty…of filing."
"Your mother's a very sweet woman," Zelda remarked. "I couldn't have asked for a better neighbor. Never forgets a birthday, and she's always bringing over food."
"Yeah, mom's a real nurturer," Link agreed, smiling.
"Excuse me, but did you two want bread?" John The Waiter asked, seeming to have appeared out of thin air.
Then a very weird, unexplainable thing happened. Simultaneously, Zelda and Link said, "Noblesse oblige."
They stared at each other. John stared at them. "No, then?" he asked tentatively. He started walking slowly away, and when neither of them called him back, he sped up.
Link looked as if he was about to say something, but Zelda shook her head and spoke first. "So for the sake of my own curiosity, Link, what—uh, did you pursue any education after high school?"
"Yes ma'am, I did," Link replied, thinking he was starting to sound like a cowboy what with all the yes ma'ams he was spouting. "I attended Bromwell in New York."
"Bromwell, Bromwell," Zelda mused, putting her napkin onto her lap. "Is that by West Point?"
A bitter smirk found its way onto Link's face. "Yup. Actually, my dad was really hoping I'd go there."
"He was an Army Sergeant, wasn't he?" Zelda asked.
"Yes, yes he was. Boy, he really hoped I would go to West Point, like he did. He doesn't like to let me forget, his father flew into Normandy on June 6th, and he himself was decorated by the President."
"Oh yes, he's shown me his accolades," Zelda said. She paused, then added, "My grandfather was there on D-Day as well. He was thought to be an M.I.A. briefly, because he'd lost his dog tag…he was identified in the end, though. My grandmother was a riveter while he was gone."
"Get out, your grandma was a regular Rosie Riveter?" Link asked excitedly, remembering that both his grandmothers' idea of contributing to the war effort was to knit sweaters for soldiers.
"Yes," Zelda replied stoically. "Funny thing is, her name was Rosie. Maybe she felt obligated. She was just angry at the idea that her war-fighting abilities were limited by her sex. So she worked hard as she could."
Guess that's where your mom gets it all, Link thought to himself. "Well, that's certainly an inspiring story there."
She tried to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Once she came to the conclusion that no, he was being sincere, her cross-examination continued. "So have you ever had any interaction with kids before on any of your jobs?"
"Oh yeah, sure," Link responded, as John silently delivered their drinks. "Got a lot of kids at the kennel looking for dogs, 'cause my job was to pick up the dog they wanted and teach them how to treat it, take care of it…then when I was life-guarding, I had to be around kids all the time. Not to toot my own horn, but I never had to yell. The best way to deal with kids, I think, is to keep a cool head."
"My brother Jack was a life-guard, too," Zelda couldn't help saying. "I think he would probably have disagreed with you, though, because he seemed to be yelling all the time. Maybe he just didn't have the same way with kids." She crossed her legs, narrowly avoiding striking Link's knee. "Do you have any siblings, Link?"
"Regrettably, no," Link sighed ruefully. "I wanted a little brother for a long time, though." He shrugged. "But eventually I got used to being an only child." He took a sip of his water. Though he already had an idea of the answer, he asked, "How about you? Any siblings?"
Zelda gave a small, cynical chuckle. "Yes. My mother, you see, did not settle for just one husband. Right now she's on her sixth."
"She's had six husbands?!" Link blurted out incredulously before he could stop himself.
"Yeah, I know, it's pretty sad. Anyway, with her first husband, she had my sister Terra, my brother Jack, and another sister Deborah. Then there was my dad, and she had my sister Vivien, me, and my brother Will. Then with her third we inherited Bentley and Marianne, and lastly with husband number four, she had twins, Rachel and Leah. Then she decided she'd never have children again." After delivering this monologue, Zelda calmly took a long drink from her Shirley Temple. Then she added as an afterthought, "I'm pretty sure that's why her fifth husband eventually left her—he kept thinking he could change her mind about having his children."
"Well…I mean, she did have a lot of kids," Link chimed in. "Eight, right? Not counting your step-siblings?"
"I'm impressed," Zelda said, raising her eyebrows. "Not even my friends could usually keep up."
Link shrugged again. "I'm not bad with numbers." He looked down at his glass and realized he had drained it already. "Ah…um, would you please excuse me for just a moment? I kind of have to use the, er…"
"The bathroom's just to the left of the register in back."
"Thanks; I'll return in a moment." He'll return in a moment? Why was he talking so stupid today??
Getting to his feet, Link coughed uncomfortably and quickly walked in the direction she had pointed. He hoped the reason for this sudden bathroom trip was that he'd downed his drink and not because Zelda was intimidating him. Yet, as he opened the bathroom door, he thought so far he'd handled the interview fairly well. He credited that towards his affable nature.
"…she went to Harvard, right?"
"Yeah, I think so. Some big-shot university, anyway."
"Dude, girls like that don't need to go to no college. They's waay too hot for that, you know what I'm sayin'?"
Rolling his eyes, Link tried to ignore the conversation going on between the two guys next to him.
"Not just pretty, huh?"
The other lecherous man whistled. "You have to admit, those legs are fine."
Goddesses, tell me they're not talking about Zelda! Link thought to himself. He'd had just about enough of perverted guys talking about her—and everywhere! Good heavens, why did every Tom, Dick, and Harry know his boss?
"Yep," sighed one of the men, wiping his hands as they headed for the door. "That Michelle Pfeiffer is one smokin' lady!"
Michelle Pfeiffer. Link could have laughed at himself for being so paranoid.
Back at the table, Zelda idly stirred her Shirley Temple with her straw. Looking around at all the tables, she saw Schreiber with her husband Michael; the former caught Zelda's eye and waved.
"Hey, honey, you here alone?"
Zelda turned and saw the speaker was one of the lewd dudes Link had been eavesdropping on in the bathroom. He had a lopsided grin on his face and a rather ugly 5 o'clock shadow.
"Actually, no," she replied coolly. "As you apparently did not notice, there is a table setting across from me which, if you are able to put two and two together, would imply that I am not here alone."
"Well then, where's your friend?" the man asked, seeming unfazed by this new information. "Is she on a trip to the ladies' room? I see she's finished her drink…and I see that you are having a Shirley Temple. Now that ain't no drink! No alcohol at all!"
"That's the idea."
"Don't drink, huh? Doesn't look like your lady friend does either—"
Not knowing what on earth was possessing her to use such an incredibly old-fashioned scapegoat, Zelda said, "I'm here with a man, actually."
The fellow swayed a little but recovered and acted like she hadn't spoken. "Those are pretty nice stems you got—"
"Excuse me," said a lower voice behind the man. Zelda flushed with relief to see Link standing there, looking dark and holding the stranger's shoulder in a vise grip. "You're in my way." He caught the eye of a waiter and pushed the tipsy man towards him, looking disgusted.
As he sat down, Zelda quickly tried to end the little battle going on inside her head. Her first idea that had entered her mind was that what Link had done was romantic and considerate. Then another, colder voice thought it chauvinistic and geez, didn't he think she could take care of herself? He asked John for a refill, and Zelda thought, Don't be rude, be nice—let him feel appreciated—ha, ha, this is putting me back in control—
Trying not to appear worried that she might be schizophrenic, Zelda said, "Uh, thanks for… doing that. Guys like him really get to me." They got to her? Of course they did, who wouldn't they get to? Geez, she sounded like an idiot.
"No problem," Link said gruffly. "Sorry if he bothered you."
"Not your fault if he did." Hardly missing a beat, Zelda swiftly changed the topic. "So I wonder if I should brace myself for this question, Link, but it is kind of essential. How are you really getting along with Megan?"
"Great, oh, really great," Link said, who had been kind of nervous at how she first set up for the question. "She's been very, uh, very agreeable, actually. I think we get along pretty well."
"Do you? That's fantastic," Zelda said, still soundingapathetic. Or maybe that tone was tired. "She's usually quite—oh…"
Their orders had just arrived, and in lieu of it Zelda had stopped talking. After their waiter walked away, she went on.
"To be completely, blatantly, frankly honest, Megan can be quite picky," Zelda continued. "Her attitudes in the past have sometimes suggested…a von Trapp child, or at the very least, a pixilated young girl who wants only to be around someone she can stand all day long."
"You know, you have the most unique employment tactics," Link observed, staring at her with interest.
"How do you mean?" Zelda asked quickly, her blue eyes slightly widened.
Working hard not to laugh at her jumpiness, Link assured her, "You don't have to worry about my quitting, because Megan's been fine with me, but…I'm just surprised by your bluntness."
"Yes, I know," Zelda lamented. "It's not very lawyer-like, I've been told, but I don't see the benefit of lying to people. Megan can be tricky to handle, and I think that hopeful employees should be full aware of that before they agree to take on such a heavy responsibility. It would be unfair of me to tell them otherwise." She shrugged. "But from what I feel is pure pretentiousness, most nannies seem to think they are something special, that they alone can and will be the one responsible for at last getting the girl under control, and…oh dear me, I'm sorry, you got me rambling."
"No need to apologize," Link told her. "I think your honesty is admirable."
Zelda swirled her straw again, and when she spoke, she sounded somehow different. "Thank you. My mother didn't think it was such a brilliant idea. I don't know, maybe it's not, but…she's really not the consultant for parenting 101." Wow, that had been straight-forward.
Deciding not to act on this last statement, Link asked, "So then, was your mom a lawyer, too, then?"
"Oh yes, yes. She still is."
"Are any of your siblings lawyers?"
"No; Jack's a history teacher at a high school, Terra's just a housewife, Vivien's a doctor, Deborah's considering becoming a mechanic, Will…oh sorry, I'm rambling again. I really don't usually do that, I swear. But…yeah, my mom's a lawyer. Found all the loopholes in everything…including motherhood." Crap! What is WRONG with me, I'm talking right out of a lame soap opera!
"So! Are you two enjoying everything so far?" asked their waiter John, who once again seemed to have shown an ability to appear from no where.
Zelda hastily answered the inquiry, desperate for anything to deviate attention from the foolish thing she'd just said. "Oh yes, it's great, thanks."
"Yeah, it's great," Link added before taking a drink from his glass. As John walked off, he said, "Mind if I ask you something, Ms. Cleverly?"
His tone was so curious, so empty of rudeness or sharpness, that Zelda was almost surprised to hear herself reply, "Go ahead."
"What were you before you were a lawyer? Or, I mean, did you have a job when you were in high school?"
It was subtle, but Link could tell from her reaction (or lack thereof, nearly), that it was a sensitive question. Zelda's fingers on her right hand curled almost into a fist, and a light red flush crept slowly up her neck. As if to distract them both from this, Zelda sighed and rubbed the side of her neck with her right hand. She cleared her throat.
"I…I uh, worked for a while at…at an amusement park."
It appeared as if she was ashamed of this for some reason, so Link courteously didn't push her to go on. "Did you always want to be a lawyer?"
"Yes," Zelda answered automatically. "Well…actually, up until third grade I kind of wanted to be a vet."
"Didn't we all?" Link chuckled.
"Did you?"
"Actually, yes. But then my mother told me how much extra school I'd have to go through to accomplish that, and well, that can be kind of a turn-off to an eleven year old, you know? Is your sister a vet or a doctor, did you say?"
"Doctor. Pediatrician, to be specific."
"Ah." He couldn't recall if that mean a specialist in children or feet, but since he didn't want to appear stupid, he didn't ask for clarification.
"My mom influenced my decision about being a veterinarian, too," Zelda added. "I think my main drives behind the job were that I loved animals and I wanted to make a lot of money." She gave a short, ironic laugh. "I knew vets made a lot of money because of this time Terra took her bird to one, and we were there five minutes and got charged 150. Anyway, my mother was pleased with the idea of the payroll, but she wasn't really much of an animal person. She thought—this is my speculation, at least—she thought that being a vet was something to be looked down upon.
"So anyway, she exploited my desire to keep all God's creatures safe and asked me this—when I was about seven or eight years old, she just pulled me aside one day and asked, what if you mess up? No wait, sorry; I was wrong, she didn't ask it, she said it. What if you mess up."
Link stared at her. Was she done? It was hard to tell. The silence seemed to give her her second wind.
"What if you make one mistake, one tiny mistake that ends up killing the poor thing? What if you killed it, Zelda? Things like that happen, you know. It would be all your fault. You could be responsible for taking away the life of an innocent animal—after its owners had trusted you with its well-being…and you let them down. That is all it takes. One wrong little cut, one stitch gone awry. What if you mess up."
This stream of consciousness convinced Link that Mrs. Cleverly was definitely off her nut. Saying all those horrible, disheartening things to a kid? He was trying to think of something encouraging to tell Zelda after this depressing recollection, but then didn't, because it looked like she was going to start talking again.
As it turned out, she had initially opened her mouth to sigh. As she did this, her posture slackened slightly and her chin came to rest in her palm in a defeated sort of way. And then she spoke.
"The funny thing is, being a lawyer isn't all that different. There are all those same possibilities of failure, all those inescapable problems. It all depends on how good you are at what you do. My mother was just under the impression that her profession was more commendable than any other. I was eventually brought up to believe lawyers could do anything. People come to us for help—only not with a parakeet whose wing is broken or a hamster in need of a diagnose, but with much more important problems. A robbery, embezzlement, etc. But if something goes wrong and justice does not prevail, it could still be your fault. Just as failing to save the life of an old Labrador you have failed to win a case for your client, when they were counting on you."
Her hands were no longer positioned one on her lap and one under her chin; both were slowly being run through her hair, as if she was trying to yank out thoughts with her fingers. Her voice nearly muffled by her hands, Zelda finished, "What if you mess up."
And then she fell silent. Link's mind was racing with questions and wondering what on earth to say. Why was she telling him all this? Would she pick it up again? What should he say, how should he reply? He had just opened his mouth to spit out whatever first came into his head when he felt a hand on his shoulder tacitly silencing him.
Schreiber stood beside him, looking down at Zelda with an expression mixed with pity and solemnity.
"Hey," she whispered. "Zelda."
There was no verbal response. The blonde's knuckles turned white as she tightened her hold on her hair.
Her husband waiting awkwardly in the background, Schreiber slid her hand off Link's shoulder and put one knee on the side of the booth her co-worker was sitting on. Gently she said, "Zelda, what is it, are you okay?"
Zelda's back stiffened and she finally removed her hands from her head. Rather incredibly, her hair seemed to just fall back into place as if she had never touched it. In a crushed tone she tried to sound firm as she said, "I'm fine, Eliza. Really, I am." With a sigh she reverted back to her impeccably straight posture. "I'm sorry. Goddesses, I'm sorry. Would you excuse me for a moment, please? Why don't you two just catch up…" Without waiting for someone to say yes or now, she took her wallet and slipped silently by Schreiber.
"Yeah, sure," the brunette said slightly loudly. Once Zelda had walked out of earshot, Schreiber's solicitous countenance turned (albeit slowly) cheerful. "So! Been in California very long, Link?"
Meanwhile, Zelda was making her way to the restroom. She was grateful to find it (astoundingly) empty, and promptly walked into one of the stalls.
It was coming up her throat, burning to get out of her system; standing up, Zelda tried to resist the urge; her stomach was tying itself in knots, tremors causing her whole body to tremble dangerously and Zelda praying her epiglottis would hold out. But it was all in vain. Horrible retching noises reverberated off the walls of the bathroom as Zelda involuntarily emptied her dinner into the toilet. Just after this disgusting ordeal, the door of the restroom opened and a few laughing women came in. Instinctively Zelda ceased her heavy gasping, not wanting to worry or scare the strangers.
Her chest clenched and felt like steel as she held in another spew of vomit struggling to get out. Eventually she let escape a small, barely audible cough that went practically unnoticed by the other women in the bathroom. Hoping it wouldn't leave too much of a smell, Zelda flushed the vomit down the toilet. Nonchalantly she washed her hands and was just exiting through the door when her cell phone rang. Sighing, she took it out of her wallet-purse.
"Yes?"
Without even so much as a preliminary hello, Malon (on the other line) said, "Holy crap, you sound awful."
"Gee, thanks."
"Well, how's it going?"
"Oh…" Zelda closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. "It was going really well, I thought we were doing pretty good, you know, and then…and then…don't ask me how, but we got on the subject of my mother, and—and—"
"Whoa, Zellie, calm down, relax," Malon interrupted as it sounded like Zelda was going to start hyperventilating. Indeed she seemed to be having trouble stringing two words together. "Hey, Zel, are you crying?"
"No!" Zelda answered truthfully. "It's just—he makes me feel so strange—but in, like, a good way…I just felt like I could trust him, you know? And so I blurted out this story about my mother emotionally scarring me for life and I had to leave him with an old high school friend we ran into so I could have a moment to recuperate! He must think I'm a complete maniac or a freak at the very least!"
"Come on, Zelda, he doesn't think you're a psychotic freak," Malon sighed patiently. "And if you're interested, I had a similar experience with him this afternoon. I mean I told him something that I haven't talked about with anyone else! And I hardly know him, which is the weird thing. So I can totally relate to how you must feel right now. Except one bit."
"Which?"
"Well, I didn't feel embarrassed about it. Whereas you felt the need to run and hide from him. Look, I know it's awkward, but I really don't think he's going to like, judge you. I felt like I could totally trust him."
"But it's different in your case!" Zelda whimpered. "You don't have a reputation, you're not his boss, you're not the one who's supposed to be intimidating and turned out just pathetic!"
"All right, granted you have a couple points," Malon concurred reluctantly. "But who ever said you had to be intimidating? For heaven's sakes, what are you trying to do, scare him away form wanting to work for you?"
"Look, Mal, I really should go back," Zelda said. "I don't think it's a great idea for the boss to be missing from the job interview for too long."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Malon agreed. "I'll see you later then, Zelda."
"Bye." Groaning sadly, Zelda put her phone into her purse again and headed back to her table.
"Here she comes," Schreiber said in a hushed voice. "Not just remember: by any means necessary, make the woman laugh. And if you do, call that number I gave you and tell me about it, okay?" She laughed. "Even if you don't end up making her laugh, give me a ring, okay? It'd be great to hear from you." To keep herself from placing a hand flirtatiously on his arm, Schreiber stood up to join her husband. "Goodbye, Link, so good to see you again!"
"Yeah, ditto," Link said, feeling awkward that he hadn't been introduced to her long-silent husband.
"See you later, Zelda," Schreiber said as the blonde reached them. "Feel better, okay, hon?"
"Yes indeedy, as we say on the range," Zelda responded. "I'll be sure to get out the old selenium hexafluoride."
"Um, okay. Bye."
"Ciao."
Before Zelda could talk, Link started off a conversation and acted as if the previous ten minutes had not just occurred.
"Noblesse oblige," he said with a curious smile. "Yes indeedy, and selenium hexafluoride? Correct me if I'm wrong, but is it just me, or did you ever watch 'You Know You Go to MHS When'?"
"You've heard of MHS?" Zelda asked, completely taken aback by this new information. "It didn't even last two seasons"
"I always wondered why that was," Link sighed, glad that she seemed to be talking comfortably. "Did you see the episode, 'Lark Times Are Here Again,' the one where Viv's weird cousin Lark visits?"
"I can't remember...what else happens in the episode?"
Laughing in a nostalgic manner, Link leaned back to regale her with the story. "It's the one where it's been raining for three days straight, and so McLise is practicing for track in the house. So she's running around in a huge circle through the rooms on the main floor and meanwhile, Viv's coming up from the basement and—"
"And she opens the door and McLise runs right into it!" Zelda finished for him, an excited look in her eye. "So McLise—I remember now, they had the two shots side by side—McLise gets flung backwards into the fridge, and Viv was pushed back by the door and went somersaulting back down the steps!"
"I wonder if Izzi Wenzler had a stunt double for that," Link mused. But he didn't say anything else, because he realized he had achieved the goal Schreiber had set him.
She laughed. Something beautiful, like tinkling wind chimes; high-pitched but still melodious to the ear. Her smile showed off brilliantly white teeth and twin dimples. The laugh made Link laugh, and wonder why it had been so hard for Schreiber to get Zelda to do so.
"I haven't thought about that show in years!" Zelda cried. "When was it, 1991?"
"Yeah, I think so," Link confirmed, pleased that she seemed to be genuinely exuding happiness. "You have no idea—not one person I know has ever watched that show, and lots haven't even heard of it!"
"I always went over to Malon's hours to watch it," She added. "Her mom thought it was completely moronic, but it just killed us, every week!"
"My parents thought it was stupid, too," Link told her. "But then, you have to consider their taste—God forbid my mother miss one 'Days of Our Lives,' you know?"
"Ah, my mom thought TV in general was idiotic," Zelda murmured wistfully. "She could be most disagreeable about it."
"Is that why you watched it at Malon's house?" he heard himself ask quietly.
For one of the first times that evening, she looked him directly in the eye. She held his gaze for a while, wondering curiously how long she could. Then Zelda said passively, "Yes, that's why." She then caught their waiter's eye and asked for the check. "Well, Link," she said with the air of one changing the subject, "I think this has been a very informative evening."
"I whole-heartedly agree," Link said, working hard to repress the urge to reach across the table and take her fidgeting hand. Although now Zelda had reverted back to her tough façade, beneath that Link had seen a glimpse of the sensitive, nervous wreck she really was—and the untapped happiness that was also within her, somewhere very deep down. He decided at that moment that from that night on, he would make Megan his first priority but also begin to solve the confusing puzzle that was Zelda Cleverly.
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A/N: Well, that was quite random. Just as a sidenote for anyone who was interested, You Know You Go to MHS When... is the name of a local show some kids at my high school put on way back when, and the catchprases Link and Zelda recognize here are ones that became associated with certain characters on that show. Also, while some of the conversation in this chapter may have seemed fairly melodramatic, Zelda's story of her mother telling her not to become a vet was also actually taken from a real life experience of mine.