Chapter 6

Laura began getting ready as soon as Tom left to meet Jay. If she could reciprocate Jay's kindness by putting his lady friend at ease, then she was only too willing to do so. The last time she recalled getting ready for a party with another woman occurred back in the days when her sisters had been alive. She missed those feminine rituals - trading opinions on what looked good and what didn't, Cheryl's hands threading through her hair as she styled the long red waves, Sandra's surefire method of making her eyes pop with nothing but a little bit of liner and a mere trace of mascara. Laura was deft with a curling iron, to her younger sisters' chagrin. Her own hair never needed one. The beds would be strewn with magazines and multicolored glass bottles, a carefree chaos of women's beauty products as disorganized as their silly chatter had been. It seemed like such a long time ago but also so close that she could almost spread her arms out, enfold the memory, and live in it again.

The suite was too quiet. Laura fumbled with the buttons on the radio. Big band music burst forth with its broad sweep of percussion, brass, and woodwinds while a brash saxophone carried the main melody. It was music meant for dancing but it did little to lighten Laura's mood. Even so, it was better than the silence. She left it on.

It didn't take her very long to make a final decision about her dress; she decided on a tasteful concoction of amber taffeta. The fitted bodice had a v-shaped neckline and three-quarter length sleeves. It flared out to a tea-length skirt. A sale tag was still pinned to the neckline, and as far as Laura could tell, it had never been worn. She was pretty certain there was some topaz jewelry in the box that Jay had given them, the one with the wedding rings. Laura looked down at the little gold band on her finger and rolled her eyes. Gods. The universe sure did have a twisted sense of humor.

She had just taken the dress out of the plastic and laid it out on the bed when she heard the knock. "Come in," Laura called over her shoulder.

A woman opened the door, poking her head into the room. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," said Laura. She walked over to meet Daisy and was instantly enveloped in a perfumed embrace, the scent so cloying that she had to bite back a cough.

As they separated from the hug, Daisy took both of Laura's hands in each of her own and swung them back and forth. "Laura Zarek," she cooed. "Jay's cousin from Virginia! Can I call you Laura? You absolutely must call me Daisy. My cousin lives in East Egg, too. But you won't hold it against him; I know you won't. Have you met Nick yet? I just know we're going to be good friends." She giggled. "It's positively predestined. Ever have that uncanny intuition about someone you've just met?"

"Sometimes," said Laura, feeling a little bit like she'd just been assaulted by a talking, bubbling, fizzy flower.

"See? We're practically sisters already," Daisy drawled. "Oh, is that your dress? It's darling. You won't be too warm in it though, will you?"

"Thank you - no." Laura had a feeling she could answer Daisy's questions with any number of arbitrary responses and the woman wouldn't notice the difference - or care.

"You daring thing," said Daisy with a little wink. "That neckline. I think you can pull it off though. You have quite a figure, especially for a mature woman."

"Well, thank you," said Laura with false sweetness. She imitated Daisy's quicksilver tone. "I'm so glad you think so."

"I have some make-up in my purse that could probably hide that bruise on your cheek, too. Jay told me about the accident. Just horrible. How are you feeling?"

"Much better," said Laura. "Thank you."

"And your...husband? That curve is a nightmare, especially at night, and well - you know - " She lowered her voice. " - if you've had a nip or two."

"Tom didn't have one or two of anything," said Laura calmly. "We were coming from out of town and the roads were unfamiliar." There was no real need to defend Tom since the car accident story was a lie, but Laura didn't like Daisy's poorly veiled insinuations.

"Oh, my goodness, Laura!" Daisy clapped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean to imply - "

It was, of course, exactly what she'd meant to imply. Laura didn't believe for one moment that Daisy Buchanan lacked awareness of what her words suggested. She could see the evidence of it in the younger woman's calculating blue eyes.

"Of course not," said Laura, patting Daisy's arm. By some miracle of divine favor, she managed not to grit her teeth. She decided that a change of subject was her best bet and if her instinct was correct, this girl would bask in the glow of compliments. If it shut her up for a moment, it would be worth the effort. "Your dress is beautiful. That pale blue is a good color on you."

Daisy laughed and twirled. "You think so? Thank you."

"Did you know that my husband is a Tom, too?" asked Daisy.

Laura shook her head. "No, I didn't. I think it must be another sign of our fated friendship." She wondered if Daisy caught the undertone of sarcasm in her voice. The younger woman was quiet for the first time since she'd traipsed into the room and Laura got the distinct feeling that she was being appraised.

"Jay's very fond of you. He just waxes poetic when he mentions your name," said Daisy. She gave a silvery laugh. "You'll be with us for the rest of the summer then?"

"I hope so," said Laura.

"How perfect! Oh! You have to let me do your hair," Daisy touched a red wave that fell against Laura's shoulder. "Such a luxurious color. Yours?"

"Absolutely," said Laura. "I appreciate the offer but I already did it. It takes so long to dry, I learned a long time ago when getting ready to always start with the hair."

Daisy's eyes widened. "You're going to wear it down like that?"

Laura checked her reflection in the mirror hanging over the loveseat. Too much volume maybe? Frizz? No. She'd gotten it right. "Yes, I almost always wear it like this."

"Really? Oh my. And I thought my bob was gutsy. You're a - modern woman, Laura."

What in the twelve worlds was so scandalous about her hair? If long hair was more acceptable on women, she certainly qualified. Laura sighed. This place did have some mind boggling customs.

"Well, it's very pretty," twittered Daisy. "Just like a Ziegfeld girl."

Somehow Laura didn't think the statement was meant a compliment. She made a mental note to look up the reference later.

"I'm going to head into the bathroom and slip this on," said Laura, picking up her dress. She was grateful for any excuse to retreat. What could a man like Jay possibly see in a woman like Daisy? By comparison, even Tom's company was almost a delight. "We've probably kept the men waiting long enough."

"They're so impatient, aren't they?" said Daisy with a rebellious smirk. "You take all the time you need." She winked. "It's good to keep them waiting."

Tom had never worn a tuxedo before. He'd gotten used to the power suits that were a necessary part of playing the role of a politician but he'd always preferred a pair of jeans, a black shirt, and his leather jacket. Anything, of course, beat twenty years wearing an orange jumpsuit. He'd learned a long time ago that if you were going to play any role in this world, you had to look the part - first and foremost. He'd played a lot of parts over the years, so faking it was nothing new, but it sure wasn't anything he'd been prepared for. Laura Roslin's lover and husband. Hell, she must be having an existential crisis over it.

All things considered, she'd treated him better than he would have expected since the crash but she had a knack for surprising him. And few people ever managed such a feat. He considered himself well-studied in the complexities of human nature but he'd never quite wrapped his head around Laura. Just when he had her pegged as a cold-hearted bureaucrat, no different from her predecessors, she'd turn around and do something completely unexpected, like mutinying against Adama or refusing to flush the Astral Queen's prisoners out of the nearest airlock.

Like stripping herself practically bare and warming his freezing body under a threadbare blanket…

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" asked Jay, interrupting the haze of memory. His blue eyes were bright with understanding and something that almost looked like sympathy.

"What? No." Tom didn't mean to sound so defensive. There was no reason for him to deny it to Jay, who so desperately wanted to believe the fairy tale.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," said Jay softly, "it's just nice to see two people who genuinely care for one another, to see something between them that's so true and - well - real. I see a lot of couples, Tom. But not many like you and Laura."

I don't know what you think you see, buddy, but it's sure not what you think it is. Jay's belief that he and Laura were almost legendary class lovers was something he would easily scoff at if someone else were misguided enough to hold onto such a notion. But he couldn't quite manage to feel disparagingly toward kind-hearted Jay Gatsby, even if the man was dead wrong.

"Laura and I have been through a lot together." That was true. People tended to believe lies that began with even some small basis of truth. "We're excited about our new start. Everything would have been a lot harder if you hadn't come along after the accident. As soon as we get on our feet, we'll get out of your hair - "

"I keep telling you both not to worry about that. You're my guests for as long as you like. It's not like I don't have the room. Have you met any of the others staying with me yet?"

"Not really," said Tom. He and Laura had been lying low until they got a better feel for the lay of the land. "Laura still has headaches so we've been up in the room a lot." Another half-truth.

"Most of them want something, Tom. Oh, they think I don't know it but of course I do. I'm not an idiot."

"And you think Laura and I don't want anything from you?" Sometimes Gatsby's naivete floored him. He didn't really know them. They could probably rob the man blind if they wanted to. A mentality like that could shatter a man. In prison, it could even get you killed. Or worse.

Jay's lips curved upwards into a smile, transforming his expression into a look of wise innocence. "Is this your way of telling me that you do - want something from me?"

Tom laughed. "No. Let's just say I'm not entirely used to people giving without looking for something in return. And you - you should be careful."

"Don't you worry about me, old sport. I've been around the block more than you probably think."

Tom wouldn't doubt that. Money of the magnitude Jay Gatsby possessed didn't come without its own price tag. Just exactly what that was, Tom wasn't sure yet. But he was certain that Gatsby's wealth didn't spring entirely from the chain of drugstores he'd talked about running a little while ago. Jay was a tough nut to crack. He was so damned evasive, avoiding direct questions with such requisite good grace that you barely noticed until five minutes after the conversation had wandered somewhere else. If he weren't as kind as he appeared to be, he'd have made one hell of a politician.

The butler, like all truly talented servants, materialized out of nowhere and casually whispered something in Jay's ear before offering Tom another drink. He politely declined the offer. Jay's booze was just about as potent as what was available after the Cylons had come and that was some pretty strong liquor. Tom had never liked partaking in anything that dulled his senses. He liked to be alert.

"The ladies are on their way down," said Jay. "Daisy doesn't like the veranda at night - too many moths. You don't mind heading in do you?"

Tom shrugged. It was a beautiful summer night and there was a gorgeous view from the wide veranda with the sound in the distance. Moonlight reflected off the water, coloring the surface silver. The breeze out here was delicious, too. He'd forgotten what leaves sounded like when the wind picked up, that comforting and recurring swish as it swept through them. After what seemed like a lifetime stuck in tiny cells and metal ships, he was really enjoying the outdoors.

"Sure," said Tom. Maybe he could entice Laura into accompanying him for a walk after dinner. He immediately retracted the thought. He could go for a walk on his own. This whole couple-facade thing must be screwing with his head. "Yeah. Let's go in."

Jay led Tom to a large sitting room with elegantly high wingback chairs in teal velvet and a plush paisley patterned carpet at the center of the hardwood floor. Candles glowed in the windows, giving the room warmth and ambiance. Vases bursting with fresh flowers in full bloom had been placed on almost every available flat surface. A bottle of red wine waited for them, too, on the central coffee table, with four glasses ready to be filled. Next to the bottle of wine was a tray of decadent dark chocolate truffles.

"I hope Laura likes red wine," said Jay. "That particular type is supposed to go very well with the chocolates." Tom noticed that Jay kept looking toward the entryway, brushing invisible lint off his tux, and generally not looking at all like his easygoing self.

Tom had no idea whether or not Laura liked red wine but he nodded at Jay as if it were the most natural thing in the world to answer a question about her tastes. "Sure she does. So how long have you and Daisy known one another?" Tom was genuinely curious and he also knew that engaging Gatsby prevented him from asking any further questions about him and Laura.

"Five years. I met her before the war but I didn't have anything to offer her then. She couldn't really see me. Not seriously. Family pressure, you know. By the time I got back, she'd married Buchanan and had moved east. Here. To West Egg She's just across the water."

"Ah," said Tom. "That explains the house location."

Jay chuckled. "Oh, well, it's a great spot. The West Egg folks aren't all that thrilled with me. New money and all that."

"Somehow I don't think that prime real estate had anything to do with your choice," said Tom.

"Probably not," agreed Jay with a sheepish smile. "Does she ever look back, Tom? Laura I mean - was it hard for her to leave her family and friends behind when you two...got together?"

"Laura and I left a lot of things behind," said Tom, "but we're together and that's enough." Gods, he hoped Laura would get down here soon. He was running out of greeting card responses to Jay's questions.

"So what do you do for work, Tom?" Jay asked. "I know Laura's a teacher."

Tom was about to launch into the background story that he and Laura had prepared when a feminine laugh floated through the air. It wasn't Laura's laugh. Tom knew that instantly. This laugh was more showy than Laura's understated giggle.. It was a good laugh though - and like any good laugh - it made the listener wonder what was so amusing.

The woman who was presumably Daisy Buchanan flounced into the room. Her lustrous voice matched the effervescent flourish of her laughter. There was something warm and bell-like in the sound but Tom could also tell that she was well-aware of the effect. Thirty years ago he might have been completely charmed.

The initial focus of Daisy's attention went to Jay. She beamed a smile in his direction that would make sunlit water at the height of noon seem dull by comparison. And then, just as quickly, she was looking at him.

"Thomas Zarek," she said, as if she'd known him his whole life. She shook her head in a disapproving fashion."You've flustered that poor woman upstairs beyond any hope of repair." She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if she were confiding a great secret. "Laura will be down in a minute. She forgot her purse."

"Oh, I've been known to have that effect on people," said Tom, picking up her playful tone with ease. "I'm just glad she didn't forget me." He grinned. "Nice to meet you, Daisy."

She was as pretty as Tom had expected, short blonde bobbed hair and striking blue eyes, eyes that were full of lights and colors and movement, like a bustling city at twilight. Eyes full of the promise of exciting places to go and the enticement of sights unseen.

"So what do you think of East Egg?" asked Daisy.

"Delightful. But Jay's our host so...how could it be anything but?"

"Would you like a drink, Daisy?" asked Jay.

"What's Tom having?"

"Oh, well...Tom here switched to ginger ale."

"Already? Oh, you're one of those. That's bad form, you know. You're apt to make the rest of us feel like a bunch of inebriates." She patted Jay's arm. "Jay will be thrilled, of course. He hardly ever has more than two of anything. I'm going to have to rely on Laura then."

"I'm merely pacing myself," said Tom. "And don't hold your breath. Laura's - "

He saw the familiar shine of glossy red hair in his peripheral vision. The thick carpet dulled her footsteps so he didn't notice Laura until she'd entered the room completely. She looked beautiful. He'd never seen her in an evening dress before. The rich amber color suited her, playing off the hints of gold in her hair. The dress fit well, although she was still too thin in Tom's estimation. They all were after New Caprica. The two belts that he owned after the exodus had already been falling apart from overuse.

"You were discussing me," said Laura. "I distinctly heard my name."

"Was I?" He smiled broadly at her, making no effort to conceal either the fact that he was looking or his admiration. "I guess I lost my train of thought."

"Booze," said Jay mischievously.

"Hooch," chimed in Daisy.

"Oh," said Tom. "That's right. We were discussing your alcohol consumption habits. I had to warn them about what a lush you are. I mean, really, sweetheart - it's early and you're already forgetting things."

Laura shrugged and smiled. "I think this conversation is just begging for a toast."

Jay laughed. "Too true. Allow me." He opened the bottle of red wine and poured some into each glass.

"To what shall we toast?" asked Daisy eagerly.

"To new friendships," said Jay, raising his glass toward Daisy's.

Tom turned to Laura and met her eyes, green-gray and glimmering in the candlelight. "To new friendships," he repeated with a teasing grin as he clinked her glass.