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The Fat Lady Sings
Friday
November 9, 2001
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Day 9: Julie's NaNoWriMo novel without a title...
Day 9, and it's been a week and one day since all this began. Not only have I been able to keep with my 2,000-a-day goal, but I've gone beyond it. I must say, nobody is more surprised at my progress than myself.
Today's word count: 18,432 (approx)
Goal: 50,000
Mileposts: Mon., Nov. 5: 8,333 words. Sat., Nov. 10:16,666 words.
Thur., Nov. 15: 25,000 words. Tue., Nov. 20: 33,333 words. Sun., Nov. 25:
41,666 words. Fri., Nov. 30: 50,000 words.
And what about God?
Elly hmm’ed and sipped at her tea,
thinking. “I don’t
remember a time when I didn’t believe in magic, so you’ll have
to bear with me.” She sipped
again.
“That’s okay, because I don’t remember a time when
I did,” Rae responded.
“You think so? All right, how about this… instead of asking about
what you don’t know, let’s focus on what you do know.”
“Okay,” Rae agreed.
“Maybe you could ask me questions to get me
started?”
“Oh! Hold on a sec,
I’ll be right back.”
Elly went to her desk and rummaged around, then returned with pencil
and paper. She set it firmly
in front of Rae.
“Here. As you think of points, write them
down. It’ll be good for
you to look back on later, should you want
to. Now,” she said, sitting
again, “let’s think about
magic. What do you know about
it?”
“I know it doesn’t exist,” Rae snorted, and picked
up the pencil.
“You don’t? Really?
Let’s try defining magic, first, then.”
Rae took a deep breath and let it out
again. “I feel silly doing
this.
Okay.
Magic. It’s when…
something happens that’s not explainable by natural laws and/or current
technology.”
“That’s a good start.
Now, tell me: where does your being a Ward fit into that
definition?”
“Look, I know that it seems really stupid of me to be contradictory
about the question of Ward magic.
I’ve already admitted I can’t deny it
exists.” She waved her
hand in a resigned gesture.
“So I take it back. I
know that magic exists, or Ward magic at least, because I experience it
directly.”
“So for something magical to be real, someone must have experienced
it directly? Is it necessary
for that someone to be you?”
“I… I would say… I don’t
know. I would prefer it if it
were me experiencing it directly so that I can form my own
opinion.”
“Let’s say that perhaps, instead of you, it was
me.”
“All right.”
“And let’s say that I had direct experience with an unnatural
occurrence of some sort.”
Rae nodded hesitantly.
“All right.”
“Does the formation of your opinion about whether or not magic
has occurred have anything to do with your views of the person who directly
experienced it?”
Rae’s brow wrinkled.
“Y-yes, it can be effected by my opinion of the
person.”
“And,” Elly continued, “what sorts of behaviors can
effect your opinion of someone?
Say, concerning his or her capability for forming reliable
conclusions?”
“Well, having observed the person, listened to the kinds of things
they talk about, the types of actions they engage
in.”
“What sort of people would you find to be
reliable? How about
me?”
Rae paused, frowning.
“I think I’ve caught the point of what you’re trying
to get me to say. The people
I generally would find unreliable would be those sorts of people who would
admit to having directly experienced
magic.” She stopped, then
continued haltingly, “Those
I would usually consider reliable would automatically discount their experiences
as being non-magical. So since
no one I considered reliable would experience magic, I would have no
proof.”
Elly nodded. “Cyclical
reasoning.” She leaned
toward Rae, looking her purposefully in the
eyes. “Raelynn, you don’t
believe in magic because you have chosen not to, not because you
haven’t seen evidence of it.
You have!” She
shook her head. “You
don’t want to hear this, but the truth is that at some point you’re
going to have to come to terms with the fact that magic does, indeed, exist
in your experience.”
“How much of it is real, though?” Rae asked in a frustrated
tone.
“I think it’s different for
everybody. Remember, I said
‘exists in your experience,’ not necessarily in
others. Now that you know to
look, you’ll be finding more evidence of it day by
day.”
“Fairies?
Bigfoot? Vampires,”
Rae listed skeptically,
“witches, ghosts?”
“You’ll have to learn for
yourself. Or, if you decide
someone else is reliable enough...” She smiled and raised her
eyebrow.
“Margaret trusted you, Elly.
I don’t know you well, but I trust
Margaret. I appreciate your
patience as I go through all
this…” She laughed
ruefully. “Magic
101! And you know
what? I forgot to write anything
down.”
“It’ll be a while before you’re comfortable with it
all. Just give it
time. Most importantly, an open
mind.” She patted Rae’s
hand. “You’re going
to do just fine.”
***
***
***
The following days were pleasantly busy as Rae continued to settle
in.
Kim’s partner, Deanna, dropped by and the three of them discussed
options for the new performance area.
They decided on a back corner of the café, the wall of which
would be painted black. Deanna
would build an eight-inch high platform stage large enough for about five
performers, adding appropriate outlets to the area for electric
instruments. She also had looked
into lighting possibilities and presented Rae with a simple design for lighting
the stage adequately. Three
booths would need to be removed to build the stage, but she believed the
trade-off was worth it. With
a grin to herself, she realized she finally had a good excuse to buy a
piano.
Dana seemed to be fitting in as a member of the staff, as well. Her
second day on the job she’d arrived in attire similar to that of the
first, but she had not used any black
makeup. Her face, free of thick
eyeliner or mascara, was fresh and appealing, and Rae silently applauded
her choice. Day by day, she
could see a difference in the young woman by a more open smile, a more confident
tilt of her head.
Rae awoke with a start on the day scheduled for the visit of her mother,
and she felt far from prepared.
She spent the morning walking through the café, nervously checking
for anything that might look out of
place. She visited the kitchen
so many times that Michael finally chased her
out. “I made fresh tortellini
just this morning, new butter balls are scooped, I just put scones in the
big oven, and the salad greens are so fresh they whimper when we tear
them. Stop stressing,
Rae! She’ll probably ask
for a grilled cheese sandwich, and you know I do those to golden
perfection.” He extravagantly
kissed the fingertips of his right hand, expressing delicious
flawlessness. “Now shoo!”
She retreated to the living area, changing her clothes several different
times in an effort to choose clothing which would radiate confidence and
competence to her mother. Finally, she caught herself in the midst of considering
an outfit which she would generally never consider as a reflection of her
personality, and she paused as she looked at herself in the
mirror. “This is silly,”
she said out loud, and she put the clothes back into the
wardrobe. Instead she chose
dark grey Dockers and a green polo shirt - comfortable clothes which were
simple, clean, tidy, and appropriate to working at the
café. She knew the emerald
green went well with her shoulder length amber-blonde
hair. She fervently hoped her mother wouldn’t make any
comments about her weight; Rae was large boned and was “comfortably
curved” as Aaron had put it, years
ago. She considered herself
far, far distant from a runway model ideal.
The hour arrived for the appointment, and Rae went downstairs to work
the register, trying to appear calm.
Every time the door chimed, she felt her heart leap and she struggled
to keep a pleasant expression on her face as she looked up to see who had
walked in the door. So many
customers arrived that after a while she forgot to be nervous, and she was
truly surprised when Audrey Rowland walked into the
café.
Rae grinned. “Mother!
Hello!”
It had been at least a year since Rae had seen her, and she didn’t
remember that much grey in her mother’s brown
hair. Gone was the teased bouffant,
and in its place was loosely curled, short
hair. It appeared the florid
styles the older woman had worn in years past were no longer her preference,
because she was wearing a simple European
pantsuit. Rae was much relieved,
as she had always believed her mother’s “foofy” clothes to
be unflattering.
“Raelynn!” Setting down the cat carrier, her mother broke
into a wide smile and crossed the space between door and register quickly
to embrace her daughter. Holding
Rae’s forearms, she pulled back and studied
her. “Look at
you! You seem taller…”
Rae smiled and looked down at her mother’s
shoes. “It’s because
you’re not wearing those awful heels anymore,
Mother. You look
wonderful!”
Audrey returned the smile.
“Thank you, as do you.
And I decided I was old enough to begin wearing sensible
shoes. My feet have been grateful.
Maybe soon I’ll begin wearing
purple.”
Rae chuckled at the reference to a popular anthology with stories
about older women. “Sounds
like fun! Let’s get Melata
set up upstairs, then I can give you the tour.”
“Please! And remember,
I’m ‘Audrey’ or everybody will just call me ‘Raelynn’s
mom,” she said, smiling, referring to earlier years when Rae had forgotten
to introduce her mother by name.
“Yes, Mother, I promise,” she said, ducking her head with
an embarrassed smile.
Rae took the cat carrier and the two of them walked up the beautiful
old staircase to the living area.
Once there she took the carrier into the bathroom where she had placed
an unobtrusive litter pan, then opened it to let Melata
out.
The large orange tabby tentatively took her first steps out of the
carrier, then stopped and looked at Rae accusingly, as if to say, “Well,
it took you long enough to bring me
home!” Her long-separated
owner picked her up lovingly and did her best to soothe and reassure the
cat, assuring Melata that this was her new home and that she would not be
leaving for a long, long time. Rae
buried her face in the soft fur, comforted by the familiar, silky
feel. She set Melata down and
shut the bathroom door, intending to let her out later when she could take
the time to properly observe the cat.
“Thank you for bringing her over,
Mother.”
“She’s been spoiled rotten, you
know. Don’t let her convince
you otherwise.”
As Rae led her mother through the rest of the café, introducing
her to staff and allowing her to inspect all the nooks and crannies in the
building, she reflected on the changes in her
mother. The stiffness in her
interactions with her daughter were gone, replaced with a confident and easy
manner. She smiled quite a lot
more, and exchanged physical touch without any
awkwardness.
Something was definitely different in her mother’s life, and
she wondered what it was.
Audrey Rowland easily won over the café
employees. In the kitchen she
flattered and flirted with both Michael and Kim, on the floor she greeted
all the wait staff warmly and with respect.
Definitely different, Rae thought.
After the tour, they sat comfortably in a booth and were served excellent coffee by Teri, who handed them menus. “I’ll be back to see what you’d like to order,” she said smilingly, “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Rowland,” she said as she left to serve other tables.
“Raelynn, I can see why you’re enjoying the café,”
Audrey said. “You have
a wonderful staff, and a comfortable
space. If the food is even half
as good as I can smell from here, I’ll be a happy
woman.” She smiled and
began reviewing her choices. After
a moment’s consideration, she said “I think I’ll have some
of that fresh pasta you mentioned, whatever today’s special
is.” She set the menu on
the table and looked at her daughter.
“You haven’t told me how you came to be here,
Rae.”
“It’s a long story,
Mother. The short version is
that Margaret, the previous owner, wanted to do something else with her
life. So here I
am.”
“And money isn’t a problem, dear?” she asked, concern
crossing her features.
Rae shook her head.
“Not at all.”
Audrey looked relieved.
“Good. It makes
me happy to know you’re comfortable.”
“Mother, did you think I was going to ask you for
money?” The thought
hadn’t even crossed Rae’s mind.
“It had been quite some time since you last called me,
dear. You didn’t even come
to visit your cat. I simply
wasn’t sure. Please don’t
be upset.”
She’s right, Rae
thought. “I’m sorry,
Mother. I… I have not done
a good job at staying in touch with you.
You’re welcome to visit any time you like, of
course!”
“And the same goes for you, Rae,” Audrey responded, smiling,
then looked up as Teri approached the
table. “Whatever the fresh
pasta is today, Teri, would be wonderful.”
“I’ll have a grilled cheese and the cream of broccoli soup,
thanks.” Teri smiled, took
their menus, and left to take the orders to the
kitchen. A brief awkward pause
lay between mother and daughter.
“Mother…”
“Rae, have you ever considered just calling me
‘Mom’?”
She blinked. “Oh.
No.”
“If you’re comfortable with it, please feel free to do
so. Using ‘Mother’
all the time sounds so stuffy.”
“All right,” she said.
“I have to say that, well, you’re
different.
Mom.” She smiled
tentatively.
Audrey nodded. “Not as much of a bitch, you
mean?”
Eyes wide in surprise, Rae answered,
“No! I mean, yes, but Mother,
I would have never put it that way.”
“I know you wouldn’t,
dear. You’re too
nice.” She smiled wryly.
“Not like your old mom.”
“Mother…” Rae trailed off, at a loss for
words.
“It’s all right,
Raelynn. I
understand. These last few years without your father have been difficult,
and for a long time it twisted me with a bitterness I couldn’t seem
to shake. I need to apologize
to you for that.”
“I’m sorry, I should have…”
“Been there for me? I
don’t think so. I wouldn’t have been very good
company. I drove you away from me, as it
was.”
Rae shook her head. “It wasn’t
that. It was just that with
Dad gone…”
“I know, Rae. It’s all right.
And yes, I know I was not pleasant
company. You don’t have
to lie about that.”
She looked at her mother wonderingly. “But what was
it? What happened in the last
year that is different?”
Audrey looked uncomfortable.
“I’m not getting any younger,
dear. And last year,” she
said, pausing, “I had a stroke.
A small one, “ she rushed to reassure Rae, who was aghast, “but
it was enough to wake me up to my mortality.”
“Mother, you should have called me!”
She nodded. “You’re right, I should
have. But I was embarrassed
and confused.” She took
a sip of her coffee. “And
upset that we weren’t communicating
well. I decided to wait until I was better and I could come
to you and apologize properly.”
“A year ago, Mother?”
“Time just got away from me,
Raelynn. I’ve healed from
the stroke and have gotten involved with life
again. I’m sorry I didn’t
contact you.”
Rae struggled to piece together all the information she
received. “You’re
okay now, though?”
Audrey nodded, smiling.
“Fit as a fiddle.”
“Would you,” Rae said thoughtfully, “would you like
to come stay here for a while, perhaps? I have an extra room upstairs.”
“Oh, Raelynn, thank you!
Maybe some time I can, but not right
now. I’d love to come stay
for a few days once you’re completely settled and you don’t mind
having an old lady around. That
big old house feels awfully empty without Randall and you at
home.” She smiled.
“And I wouldn’t mind visiting Melata,
either. We became quite fond
of each other.”
“When, then? I want to plan when, right
now. How about around
Thanksgiving? That’s next
month. Is that too
soon?”
“Not for me, dear, if it’s not for
you.” Audrey reached out
and squeezed her daughter’s hand.
“Thank you Raelynn.”
Mother and daughter chatted about less serious matters until their
orders arrived, and then were busy with the excellent food in front of
them.
Audrey pushed her plate back and wiped her lips with the
napkin. “Raelynn, that
pasta was the equal to any I’ve had at the most exclusive restaurants
in this city! Do you mind if
I go back to compliment Michael?”
Rae smiled. “Of course not.
He’ll be delighted, I know.”
“I’ll be right back, then,” her mother said, and exited
the booth, walking to the kitchen.
Rae shook her head in amazement.
It was wonderful to be on close terms with her mother, even though
it seemed almost unreal, like a dream.
It was going to take a while to absorb all the new feelings and
information she’d learned today.
“Where is she?” a loud voice
demanded. “Where…
is my daughter?”
Rae turned to see a woman standing unsteadily at the counter, shaking
her finger at Teri. She walked
toward them.
“Where is that little bitch,” she demanded, her words
slurred. “I followed her
here and I’m taking her
home!”
Dana appeared from around the corner, her face reddened with embarrassment
and anger, but her voice was calm as
steel. “Mother, please
leave.”
Her mother whirled in place to face Dana, using a hand on a counter
stool to steady herself. “No, you’re coming home right
now.” Rae was standing beside her, now, and the woman looked
at her. “What do you
want? You leave me
alone. I want my
daughter!”
“I’m the owner of the café,
m’am. Perhaps we can go
outside to talk?” Rae hoped
the chilled air would help calm the
woman. It was obvious she had
been over-indulging in alcohol.
“You! It’s
your fault. You’re the
one who took her from me!”
Rae shook her head.
“M’am, let’s go outside to talk about
this.” She took a step
toward the door, gesturing an invitation.
“No! Dana, come
home.
Now!”
“Why, Lindsey Quinn, is that
you?” Audrey’s loud
voice cut through the noise of the café as she approached the small
crowd at the front near the register.
“Yes, it is, and
hello!” She smiled
ingratiatingly at the drunken woman.