[Twenty-Somewhere] Episode 31: Wanna get away?

One weekend in October, Sophie’s parents surprise her with an unannounced visit.

“Hello, dear,” her mother says, sweeping into the apartment. Mrs. Lin wears a thick mink wrap around her shoulders, even though the Texas air is still warm and humid. She takes a quick glance around, then raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “You don’t do laundry anymore?”

“Uh… They’re just rags for mopping.” Sophie kicks a small pile of dirty clothes under the sofa. “What are you doing here– I mean, what a pleasant surprise!”

Sophie’s father enters next.

“Oh, Ba, you’re here too? Hi.”

He nods to acknowledge her. There is an awkward pause in which they all stare at one another, then Mrs. Lin begins to run her finger over various surfaces in the room. She cries “Tst tst!” when her fingertip comes up thick with dust.

“I was going to clean up tomorrow,” Sophie explains. “Sundays are my chore days.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” her mother replies, calling her bluff.

She moves into Sophie’s bedroom to continue her inspection. Mr. Lin stands in the doorway and waits, face expressionless and hands behind his back. When his wife returns with a horrified expression on her porcelain face, Mr. Lin sighs and says, “Let’s go.”

He turns on his heels and leaves, a mere three minutes after he arrived. Mrs. Lin follows, clearly relieved to escape her daughter’s appalling apartment.

A little offended but mostly in shock, Sophie grabs her purse, slides into a pair of flats sent by a Capital S fan, and locks the door behind her. Although she has no idea where they are going or why, she runs to catch up to her parents, because that’s what good daughters do.

…

On the other side of the ocean, MJ is running away from Felix. Ever since he said the L-word, she has been unable to face him alone. Not because she cares for him any less, but because she doesn’t care for him quite that much yet. And no one says the L-word without wanting to hear it back.

At first she is able to avoid him diplomatically. Wednesday: “My bad! I promised my roommate that I’d go out with her.” Friday: “Sorry, I’m not feeling well. It’s that time of the month.” Tuesday: “Can we reschedule? I need to wash my hair. No, really! I got chemicals in it at the lab.”

After two weeks, Felix stops buying her excuses.

“What’s going on?” he asks one afternoon, cornering her on campus.

“Nothing,” she says innocently. “What do you mean?”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Oh, you’re so silly.” Her laugh is too high-pitched. She clears her throat to bring her voice back to normal. “I mean, we’re always together. People are beginning to say that we’re practically one person.”

“They are?”

In truth, MJ has no idea. Even if they were, would they really say it around her? But Felix doesn’t seem to realize that.

He frowns. “That’s so rude. Dating doesn’t mean we stop being individuals. It’s not like we have to spend every minute with each other.”

“Exactly,” MJ says quickly. “I’m so glad you agree.”

“Agree?”

“That we should spend some time apart.”

“We should?”

“That’s what you just said,” she reminds him. Or rather, convinces him. “So on that note, I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Enjoy your night without me!” She kisses him quickly on the lips before fleeing — er, leaving — for her dorm.

Behind her, Felix stands in the middle of the cobbled English road, looking extremely perplexed.

…

Claudia wants to forgive Eli — she tries to forgive Eli — but at night when she should be sleeping, she is instead holding her breath, and waiting for Eli to sneak out of bed to check the word count on her manuscript. It’s crazy and paranoid and awful, but she can’t help it! Their trust has been… not severed, but strained. In both directions, clearly.

After several nights of this unbearable tension, Claudia starts to go crazy. Her dreams are dark and her brain is numb. She even mistypes her own name. Things are going from bad to worse, and the only way to fix it is to get a good night’s rest.

So Claudia moves into the guest room.

She wavers about whether or not to discuss it with Eli first, but since they’re not really discussing anything else, she figures, Meh. That night she takes her pillow, her stuffed giraffe, and an extra comforter to the guest room. She waits for Eli to go to bed, expecting him to notice her absence and ask what’s going on.

He doesn’t.

With a sigh, Claudia turns out the lights and prepares to enjoy her first night of good sleep in too many days.

She doesn’t.

…

“We have been thinking,” Mrs. Lin says at dinner, in a way that clearly indicates that Mr. Lin has done all the thinking and she has merely agreed. “We are thinking that you should move back home.”

Sophie nearly chokes on her tofu. She stares at her father, who is unmistakably behind this “intervention,” but he remains impassive.

“Um, but my condo is paid for.”

“Still you have the monthly payments. And with no income, the sale of property could provide valuable financial relief.” She pauses, and this is obviously the moment she has been waiting to reveal. “If you do this, we would be willing to help you with new pursuits.”

“New pursuits?”

“Yes. Your father and I think you could be a great doctor, like your cousin. Or investment banker, like Auntie Lin’s son. Either one is fine. We would be willing to pay for additional education.” Her mother smiles, clearly pleased at the possibilities and her own generosity in enabling them.

“Ah… Er… Actually…”

This is it. Sophie realizes she has to tell her parents about Capital S.

So she does. In long sentences and short breaths, it all comes whirling out. The frustration with unemployment, the impulse to blog about fashion, the amazing support from readers and fans, and finally the sponsorship from various fashion companies. Despite her nerves, she lays out her finances for them, and shows how, despite it being tight, she’s making it work. And then she faces the scariest part: she declares her intention to keep at it.

“This is what I want,” she says firmly. She hadn’t realized it was true until that moment.

When she’s done, Sophie watches her parents carefully, trying to gauge their reactions. Her mother looks at her father. Her father picks up an oyster and begins to crack it open.

At last Mrs. Lin shrugs and, interpreting for her husband, says, “Sounds okay for hobby. What do you think about law school?”

…

Later that week, Dr. Storm calls MJ into his office. He motions for her to have a seat in front of his desk. “Is everything okay, MJ? I’ve noticed some… distance, between you and Felix. Are you having some relationship trouble?”

MJ bites her lip, hesitant to divulge her personal woes to her professional supervisor. In a way it isn’t any of his business, but since both she and Felix work in his lab, in a way it is. Plus, Claudia and Sophie have problems of their own. She doesn’t want to be an additional burden to them. Furthermore, Dr. Storm is a guy. Maybe he’ll have some insight, some valuable male perspective that she can consider.

“Yes,” she finally confesses. “Though it’s probably not what you think, and I promise it won’t affect the quality of our work. We’re not fighting or anything but… Felix and I are definitely not on the same page.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

Dr. Storm shrugs. “I’m not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He takes a seat on the corner of his desk and looks down at her. Between his being her boss and his dazzling good looks, the effect is imposing, to say the least. MJ shrinks back into her seat.

“MJ, I’ve tried to be polite, but now I think maybe I should just try to be clear. You are out of Felix’s league. Way out of his league. You’re more intelligent, more attractive, and more charismatic. He’s a B-level researcher at best. He probably wouldn’t even be in the running for my little competition if he weren’t your lab partner. So what are you doing wasting your time with a guy who’s only going to hold you back? You should be with someone who can challenge you, who can help you grow, who can help you, period. Trust me, Felix is not that guy.”

“Oh. Wow.”

MJ doesn’t know what to say. Or think. Or do.

Before she can figure it out, Dr. Storm leans down and kisses her.

…

Eli might not notice Claudia’s move, but Max sure does. The poor dog can’t figure out what’s going on. Usually he joins Claudia and Eli in bed, sleeping in between them and somehow managing to take up more than 50% of their space despite being less 50% of their size. Now it’s just him and Eli, and it feels all wrong.

Max goes in search of his other owner, and cocks his head to the side when he finds Claudia in the guest room. What’s she doing there? He nudges her hand to let her know she’s in the wrong spot and should move back. She groans and rolls over, pulling the blanket over her head.

The dog is puzzled. Should he sleep with Eli, who sneaks him treats and gives him belly rubs? Or should he sleep with Claudia, who spends all day with him and usually feeds and walks him? Because he is deeply loyal to each and cannot choose between them, he chooses both.

From 11 PM to midnight he sleeps with Eli. From midnight to 1 AM he sleeps with Claudia. From 1 AM to 2 AM he sleeps with Eli. From 2 AM to 3 AM he sleeps with Claudia. So on and so forth. Every hour he gets up, scratches his collar, and moves to the other room.

In the morning, he expects them to reward him with extra pets and kibbles for his demonstration of love and commitment. Instead, they wake up bleary-eyed and groggy, and shoot him looks as if he has done something wrong.

With a heavy sigh, Max gives up on pleasing the humans and settles onto his own doggie bed in the living room. People are so confusing.

…

After failing to convince her parents about Capital S and promising to consider their offer, Sophie thinks, I’ve got to get away for a while.

After fleeing from Dr. Storm’s office and flying past Felix before he can ask any questions, MJ thinks, I’ve got to get away for a while.

After enduring several nights of sleep deprivation courtesy of her stressed and confused puppy, Claudia thinks, I’ve got to get away for a while.

…

Dear Capital S,

I hope this email finds you well. My name is Veronique La Rue, and I work for the European division of Forward Fashions. We would like to invite you to be our official correspondent at Fashion Week in Paris. If you accept, all expenses will be paid for you and 1 guest. In return, we ask that you feature our new Fall line on your wonderful, popular website.

Please let me know by the end of the week if you will be able to attend, and if so, who you plan to bring.

Sincerely,
Veronique