[Twenty-Somewhere] Episode 30: Words unspoken

It’s Sunday evening, and MJ and Felix are having dinner together at a pub near campus. The room is smoky but cheerful, overflowing with the sounds and smells of rowdy Brits enjoying their evening refreshments. But an unusual silence hangs over the table where MJ and Felix sit. She pretends to be absorbed in a game of darts being played across the room. He draws circles on the table with the condensation from his ale.

“So…” Felix says at last. “How’s Nigel?”

“Oh, quite well. And Janette?”

“Doing fine.”

They both wait for the other to say more. When neither does, they smile politely.

No, they have not had a spat, and no, they are not discussing other lovers. “Nigel” and “Janette” are nicknames for the genes that MJ and Felix are researching. Nigel and Janette used to be very open about their lives, but ever since Dr. Storm announced his little competition, they have clammed up. They are the rivals, the enemies, not MJ and Felix.

Or at least, that is what MJ and Felix tell themselves.

# # #

After a lot of wrestling with her conscience, and worrying about the consequences, Sophie decides to tell Reggie the truth. Capital S, the hotshot anonymous blogger that Reggie sponsors (on behalf of his client Forward Fashions of course), is none other than Sophie herself.

She invites Reggie to a Chinese buffet, hoping a full stomach will help soften the blow. After two plates of kung pao chicken, lo mein, and egg rolls, Sophie wonders how on earth Reggie maintains his six-pack. More importantly, she also thinks Reggie is ready for her news. As ready as he’ll ever be, anyway.

“Hey, Reg, can we talk?”

“Awn we chalkin now?”

“Uh, yes, we are talking now. But I meant about something specific.”

“Thur.”

Sophie clears her throat while Reggie tears into a crab leg. “Look, I… I… There’s something I haven’t told you.”

Reggie finishes chewing, swallows, and frowns. “You’re broke, aren’t you? And you want me to pay for lunch.”

“What? No.” Sophie shakes her head. “No, I can pay for my own lunch. I’ll even pay for yours if you want. I just need to talk to you about Capital S.”

“Ah.” Reggie folds his hands and places them on the table. “I thought this might happen.” Reggie’s tone is full of amused condescension.

“You did?” Sophie’s tone is full of straight-up confusion. How long had he known that she was Capital S? And how did he figure it out? “Well, I know I should have said something sooner, but–”

“It’s okay, I totally understand.”

“You do?”

Reggie nods. “And I appreciate it. If you’d said something right away, I might have felt like you were using me.”

“And that was never my intention,” Sophie says, so glad that he understands. This confession is going so much better than she expected!

“I know. We’ve been friends for too long, Sophie. I know you’d never use me.” Reggie sighs. “Unfortunately, I can’t set up a meeting between you and Capital S because she insists upon complete anonymity.”

That’s when Sophie’s jaw hits the table.

“You… You don’t know who she is?”

Reggie shakes his head. “All our interactions are done through her lawyer, all her checks are mailed to a PO Box.”

“And you don’t have any… guesses, as to who Capital S might be?” Sophie reaches for her glass of ice water, her face suddenly hot and her throat quite dry.

“Nope. And you know, it bothered me at first, not knowing who I was working with, especially since my client’s advertising money — and thus my career — were on the line. But now that she’s proven herself to be a trustworthy business relation and a good source of publicity and revenue, I’m cool with it. In fact, I even kind of enjoy not knowing.” He winks at her. “This way I can picture her as some super hot chick who blogs in nothing but lacy underwear.”

Sophie chokes on her water. Reggie doesn’t seem to notice.

“So yeah, I’m sorry I can’t hook you up. You know I totally would if I could. I hope you’re not too disappointed?”

“No, of course not. I understand.” She smiles and takes another sip from her glass. The water eases her parched throat and cools her down, but she doesn’t really feel any better. There’s still a huge knot of guilt that she can’t seem to swallow or wash away. And Reggie basically just said that he doesn’t want her to.

# # #

“I thought you were going to wash these dishes?” Eli calls out.

“I’ll do it later. I’m writing,” Claudia calls back from her study.

The next thing she hears is the sound of running water and angry scrubbing. She hadn’t known scrubbing could be angry.

“I said I’d get to it,” she says, coming out to the kitchen. Eli ignores her. She turns off the faucet.

“Hey!” He whirls on her with a sponge in one hand and soapy pot in the other.

“I said I’ll do the dishes later tonight.”

“I heard you.” He turns back to the sink and restarts the stream of water.

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“As a matter of fact, no. Because I trusted you to take out the trash, but you didn’t and now we have ants. And I trusted you to do the laundry, but you didn’t and I had to wear mismatched socks to work. And I trusted you to take Max to the vet, but you didn’t and now he could get rabies.”

Claudia rolls her eyes. “Who’s he going to get rabies from? The only thing that’s rabid around here is you.”

That probably wasn’t the right thing to say. Eli turns to glare at her, then turns away and shakes his head. “Go write,” he mutters.

# # #

After their dinner, Felix and MJ go for a stroll through campus. MJ likes to walk around a bit after she eats, so this has become their tradition. Holding hands in the moonlight used to feel romantic. Tonight it just feels strained.

MJ sighs.

“What’s wrong?”

MJ shakes her head.

“Hey, come on,” Felix insists. He stops and pulls her to face him. “We gotta stop this.”

“You mean Nigel and Janette have to–”

“No,” Felix says. “I mean us.” He rakes a hand through his curly hair, clearly exasperated. “Look, if this competition is going to keep getting in the way of us, then I’ll withdraw.”

“No, don’t do that.” She shook her head. “Absolutely not. If anything I’ll withdraw. You want this more than I do.”

He looks at her with deep, mocha-colored eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“You just said you’d do it for me.”

“MJ…” His voice cracks, and he coughs to cover it up. “You don’t know what that means to me. You don’t know what you mean to me.” Gently he takes both of her hands in his. “MJ, I love you.”

Her eyes go wider than the moon. In panic.

# # #

Later that night, bodies showered and teeth flossed, Claudia and Eli get into bed. Max follows. He circles three times before plopping right into the center of the bed. Normally Claudia or Eli would shift him to the side or the foot of the bed so they could cuddle, but tonight neither one makes a move.

Claudia pouts and stares at the ceiling through the darkness. Is Eli still mad about earlier? Doesn’t he want her to write? So what if a few household chores get delayed? Isn’t that a sacrifice well worth making?

She harrumphs.

But she can’t fall asleep. She’s a lights-out-when-the-head-hits-the-pillow kind of person, and here she is, tossing and turning and wondering what Eli is thinking. Is he still up? Is he wondering what I’m thinking? Or is he already asleep, unperturbed by our lingering state of disagreement?

There is only one way to find out.

“Eli?”

“…” Is that an “Mmm” in response, or a mumble in his sleep?

“Eli?”

“Mmm.” Definitely a response.

“I love you.”

There is a pause. Then an “Mmm” again.

And that was the first time Claudia ever said I love you and Eli did not say it back.