Glorina
I watched him leave, then went down to the Crypt, to try to work. It was worse than useless. Between my headache and emotional churning, I made mistake after mistake. Usually I could use the cataloging work to calm and distract me from the other, less pleasant aspects of my real work, but not today. Everything was churning together. I rested my head on my hands on the table, and closed my eyes.
I heard a cough behind me. I sat up and turned around to see Tolly behind me. I must have dozed off for a minute not to have heard the door open. He looked gentle again, and was carefully not between me and the door.
"Mr. McLichtensen," I said, folding my hands, but not getting up for a formal bow.
"Ms. Hoi," he returned with a quick nod. He looked around at work. Or lack thereof. "I fear both of us are rather useless at our jobs today."
I inclined my head at him.
"So, I am proposing to do something different." He continued, "Ms. Hoi, Glorina, would you care to join me on a picnic?"
"A picnic?" I said, startled. "You want me to go on a picnic? I don't know if . . . it's been a long time since I've been a picnic." Never. No, I had had one that day in the park. If that counted.
"I thought as much," Tolly said, with one of his shy smiles. "You go and change while I have Belinda pack us a basket.
A picnic? What on earth was Tolly up to? With all the uncertainties that were going on, he wanted to go on a picnic? I thought of my phone, with the 'abort' code still unsent, of my drunk self, apparently smarter than my normal self, begging him for help, of the knowledge that within a few months, probably less, I almost certainly would die painfully. Even being sent to prison wouldn't save me.
"I'd be glad to go on a picnic with you," I heard myself saying. I had planned on saying 'no'.
He laughed shortly. "I'd like some time if you'd just give me an answer, without considering all aspects of it."
I didn't answer; after all, I just had. And the tendency to consider every consequence of a question was the only thing which had kept me alive so far. Obviously, I was losing my edge.
I met him in the kitchen later, ready to head out. To my surprise, he let me out to the garage, to his car, a twenty-year-old model, obviously kept in mint condition.
"We're going in your car?" I asked, drawing back. Stupid! How else would we go? And it wasn't like I hadn't ridden in it before. But that was different.
He looked surprised. "Of course." Then he muttered to himself, "Idiot. You didn't think." Then he said to me, "You could follow along in your car, if you'd rather. No, you don't have a car, do you? I could ask Belinda, Jasin, a couple others to go along if you'd prefer."
As if he were what frightened me. "No, that's all right," I said, after another long moment. "It'll be fine."
"If you're sure," he said, smiling at me gently.
I had never been on a picnic before that day in the park. Not even as a child, as far as I knew. I shied away from the thought of my childhood.
Tolly began a series of mildly amusing anecdotes about his restaurant life, art collecting, and other things. They invited confidences of my own, so I gradually began to give him stories appropriate to Cover Story 3, which had the advantage that every verifiable point in them was true. And the things which might not be strictly true were close enough to be dismissed as the vagaries of memories, or to make a better story. I figured that I could spin out story matching story for an hour or two, until we went back again. I hoped.
Tolly stopped at a meadow less than five miles out of town.
"Not going to your little park?" I said.
"Not today. This is just over the edge into Unicorn Territory," he said, absently. "I come here a couple of times a year."
"To have a picnic?" I asked. "And the unicorns don't mind?"
"Not usually," he said, leaving me to decide which question he answered.
"Will we see any unicorns?"
"Not unless they wish to be seen." He wandered over to a certain spot in the meadow, picked up a stick, drew a line in the ground, sighed, and came back to me. What was that about?
"I'm sorry for that, Ms. Hoi," he said, coming back to me. "I allowed myself to get distracted for a moment."
I nodded at him uncertainly. He bustled around getting out the picnic basket and a blanket to sit on. I tried to help, but he refused to let me, saying he'd invited me.
He frowned at the food he set out for us.
"What was Belinda thinking?" he muttered. "I know fresh air is supposed to bring out your appetite, but this is more like half again as much food as we need."
As if in answer, we heard the putt-putt sound of a motor bike coming up the road.
Tolly turned pale. "Oh no," he muttered. "They wouldn't do this to me. Not without warning."
"Do what?" I asked. "Who is it?"
The motorbike drove up and parked next to Tolly's car. A small, slight rider hopped off, and pulled off her helmet, revealing short red-brown hair, flying in every which way.
"Hello, brother-dear!" she called out. "Am I late?"
"Jelana," Tolly said, half-growling. "What are you doing here?"
"And here I thought you'd be happy to see me," she told him tartly. "And you must be Ms. Hoi," she continued, coming up to me and shaking my hand, before I had a chance to drop into a bow. Her hands felt cool, like water, as they held mine. With a start, I realized I was looking over her head. It was so seldom I met someone even shorter than I was.
"Miss McLichtensen?" I said tentatively.
"Oh, heavens, no!" she exclaimed, with a laugh. "I've never gone by that jaw-breaker of a name. Just call me Jelana. Everyone does. Or Mrs. Falls, if you must be formal."
"Mrs. Falls?" I said. The girl couldn't possibly even be sixteen.
"Mrs." she repeated, firmly.
"She's older than she looks," Tolly said wearily. "Much older."
"Now, really, Tolly," she said with a laugh, "was that polite? Never tell a woman's age, you know. Besides, you're older than me."
Tolly stuck his tongue out at her, then continued unpacking the lunch. "Since you're here, you might as well join us," he said.
"Oh, are you having a picnic? What a surprise! I just love picnics!" she said brightly, and sat down beside us.
I couldn't help myself. I threw back my head, and laughed. Then laughed again. Tolly and Jelana stopped what they were doing and looked at me, then glanced at each other. A lot of the tension eased between them, and though they kept sniping at each other, the heat had gone from it.
We sat and talked and ate. Jelana sat cross-legged, with ease, on the blanket; I sat on my knees; and Tolly lay on his side, head supported on one hand. Jelana asked a lot of questions, friendly-like, and somehow or other drew out of me all the details of Cover Story 3A. She told me lots of stories about herself and Tolly, and the rest. Tolly occasionally interjected something when he felt a particular story wasn't too flattering, or to argue over the details of a story. But mostly he just let us talk, with a small smile playing over his lips. Eventually he rolled over on his back and started to snore. Jelana looked at him fondly.
"Do you know, he's the only brother I have left?" she said to me. "I try to watch over him the best I can. But he can be so stubborn at times." She gave a silvery little laugh, but I somehow got the feeling I was being warned off, and backed away slightly.
I hadn't known that Tolly had a sister at all, and I should have, especially if she lived close enough to crash a picnic on her motorbike with at most an hour's notice. I once again wondered if my boss had been intending me to fail, even before I got here. A terrifying thought, and I shoved it away, and tried to remember if Cover Story 3A had any siblings. Probably better to assume it didn't.
While I was thinking this through, Jelana reached out and took my hands. "Glorina," she said, seriously, "Are you in trouble?"
I froze, and couldn't answer or pull my hands away.
"We'd like to help you, if you'll let us. But you have to let us know what's going on."
I shook my head slightly.
"Help is available for the asking. But you have to ask. Remember," she continued, and the feel of her hands changed. I glanced down, and gasped as I saw that my hands were encased in a layer of water. This reformed back into her hands. "Remember," she repeated. "—Not everything is as it appears."
I looked into her face fearfully, but only saw serious concern.
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