(Batfic) Everything In Between, chapter 2
Previous chapters & fics: speak_sing
She shouldn’t have let Tom and Helna take Ava inside. She should have gone in with them. What sort of mother didn’t want to be around her child, especially with two days until Christmas? Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and hunched lower into her parka. Helna had convinced her that coming into town when Charles took Janet and Susie in for counselling would be good for her. She hadn’t said a thing when Rachel had shown no interest in holding Ava or pushing her stroller, which, oddly, only served to make Rachel feel even worse. She found it slightly easier to care for Ava when they were at home, but that was possibly due to Charles always being there --- she never let Rachel not be there when Ava needed feeding, or burping, or tummy time. Rachel never said that the times she was stretched out on the couch, her blouse open, with Ava laying on her bare skin in only a diaper, were the times she missed Jack the most. He should have been there to help. He should have spent the first two and a half weeks of Ava’s life being with his baby, with Rachel.
A flash of orange-red caught her eye and she glanced up out of reflex; the man who had moved into the apartments above the coffee shop was at the window again. He had only caught her eye because his was the only window not decked out with holidays lights and decorations. Rachel supposed he had a desk there, from the way he sat leaning forward and looking down. His striking hair had been catching her eye all week, every time she let Tom and Helna take Ava inside while she herself waited outside. Rachel wondered what he did, that let him sit there for so long.
But she really ought to get up and go inside, pick Ava up, or just be there so the baby could see that her mother really did care about her. Rachel hated that she felt so apathetic toward her child, but couldn’t see a way to make herself want to be near the girl. Every time she looked at Ava, she was reminded of Jack. Every time she thought of Jack, she was reminded, as if she needed a reminder, that he was in Arkham Asylum and not by her side, and not with his child. It made her mad enough that she was grateful Janet had started helping with Ava more. Sometimes Rachel was angry enough that she found herself snapping at the girls for no reason. Sometimes she had to leave Ava fussing downstairs while she curled up in her big, lonely bed and bit her pillow, screaming into it.
The wind picked up and brought a heady, thick scent with it moments before there was a tap-shuffle, tap-shuffle across the pavement. There was a soft grunt, then a man cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but would it be all right if I sat down?” The man from above the coffee shop smiled down at her when she glanced up in surprise, his solid blue eyes sparkling as he slapped his right leg. Rachel looked down. The sole of his right shoe was a good inch and a half thicker than the left shoe. “I’m not used to the stairs, and with the cold weather . . .”
There were at least four Marines watching her, Rachel reminded herself. Hers was the only table outside at the moment. The red-head in front of her was using both hands to lean on his curved cane, and the squint of his eyes was almost the same as the squint Jack got when he had a migraine.
And he was politely waiting for her answer. Rachel cleared her throat and nodded quickly, gesturing with her left hand. “Ah, yes, please, have a seat.”
His sigh was grateful as he pulled out the chair opposite her and brushed the snow off of it before sitting. “Thank you.” He held his left hand out. “Edward Nashton.” Rachel took it reluctantly; his grip was light, non-threatening, and he let her go sooner than she’d expected him to. “That’s a beautiful bracelet. Is it custom?”
His question took Rachel by surprise and she covered the back of her hand, nodding. “Ah . . . Yes. Uhm, I’m Rachel.”
He used both hands to adjust his right leg. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. . . .? You are married, right?” he asked. Rachel had started with surprise. “The bracelet’s attached to the ring on your ring finger. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be presumptive.”
Rachel cleared her throat and shook her head. “Oh, no, you’re right, I’m married. I’m sorry, Mr. Nashton, I’m not . . .”
“It’s all right,” he assured her as he ran a hand through his chin-length hair. “My desk is right by the window; I’ve seen you out here the last week.” When she didn’t seem keen on saying anything, he tilted his head to the side and breathed in deeply, enjoying the Christmas-y scents coming from the coffee shop. “You know that’s a slave bracelet, right?” he asked after a few moments.
“Yes,” Rachel replied shortly. “My husband and I are well aware of the significance.”
“Really?” Nashton shook his head briefly. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. Can I get you a drink? Some coffee? Tea?”
“No, thank you. My friends should be out soon.” Rachel sighed as she peered inside, hoping Tom and Helna would finish up and wishing, for once, that she shared Jack’s disregard of social niceties. She turned back to the curious man across from her as he adjusted his coat and tried to smile politely. “I’m sorry, Mr. Nashton, this isn’t . . . I’m not at my best, right now.”
“And that’s all right. I shouldn’t be prying. You’re just . . . very interesting, Rachel.” He cleared his throat as the deli door opened. “Ah, Lieutenant Fine, Mrs. Fine. How are you?”
“Good, thanks,” Tom said. He adjusted his uniform and handed Rachel a cup of cocoa. “You’ve met Rachel, then?”
“Sort of. Now doesn’t seem like the best time for introductions.” Nashton got up with a smile, still leaning on his cane. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Rachel. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Helna walked around him as he continued to watch Rachel, kneeling in front of her and unzipping her parka. “Time to eat. She was fussing a little inside.”
Right on cue, Rachel’s breasts started to ache and she could feel milk leaking from them; it always happened when someone mentioned Ava, often when she even thought of the baby. “Right now?” she asked. She hadn’t nursed the baby in public before, and Nashton was still watching with raised eyebrows. “Helna, we’re in public ---”
“And your baby has to eat. I do it with Mitzi all the time. Look, we just put her in the sling, like that . . . Good! And then --- No, pull it down, Rachel. She had a bottle last time. You’re not getting out of this.” Helna wasn’t deterred by Rachel’s protests, fighting with her until she had Rachel’s maternity shirt pulled to the side and her nursing cup down. Helna was close enough, and Rachel’s parka was bulky enough, that she was safe from Mr. Nashton’s gaze as she adjusted Ava and offered the baby her nipple. Rachel kept her eyes on her child as she latched on and grunted a little as she started sucking. She had to adjust Ava, wincing as she did so.
“I didn’t realise the baby wasn’t yours,” Nashton said as he finally looked at Tom. “You’d mentioned you had a daughter and I‘d never seen the baby with Rachel, so I just assumed . . .” He trailed off at the look Tom gave him, clearing his throat. “My apologies. So,” he continued, “how old is she? It is a she, right?”
“Her name’s Ava,” Rachel finally spoke up. If she gave him just a little information, maybe he’d go away. “She’s sixteen days old.”
“Congratulations. You and your husband must be proud.”
Rachel took a gulp of her cocoa before answering, curling in toward Ava as much as was comfortable. “Mr. Nashton, I’m sorry to be so rude, but my husband is receiving medical attention in New York right now. Thank you for your well-wishes, but he hasn’t seen his baby since she was a week old, we’ve got two other children he also hasn’t seen and won’t be able to see for at least a month, and this just isn’t --- it’s a bad time to be making new acquaintances, Mr. Nashton, a terrible time.”
“I’m sorry about that. It’s my fault; I’m too nosy for my own good.”
“Rachel! Rachel! Let’s send this to Daddy! Look what I drew!” Susie came running across the street, dodging snow drifts that were larger than she was and waving a piece of paper around. “Oh! Who are you? You better be nice to my baby sister and to Rachel! Charles! Who is this guy?!”
“Susie!” Rachel snapped. The girl turned to her quickly, her nose as red as her hair, and dropped her eyes. “Don’t be rude. This is Mr. Nashton.”
Susie gave him a sceptical once-over, moving to stand in front of Rachel. “You’re the guy from that place,” she said as she pointed to his apartment. “You never come out. Are you a vampire? Did you kill someone and now you’re in Witness Protection? Is that why you have a cane? Why’s your shoes different?”
Only Helna’s hand on her arm kept Rachel from grabbing the girl. “Susie! I’m sorry, Mr. Nashton ---”
He just stared at the girl as he held his hand up. “My shoes are different because my right leg’s shorter than my left; I need a thicker sole to make up the difference.”
Having decided he wasn’t a threat to Ava, Susie had settled on being curious. “Why’s it shorter? Did someone cut your knee off and then you had to have surgery to replace it?”
This level of interrogation obviously wasn’t something he was used to, not from a girl as young as Susie. “No. I was born like this. It’s called Short Leg Syndrome. You’re awfully nosy, Susie.”
“You’re awfully suspicious,” was her reply, “just showing up here outa the green, with your weird hair.”
“Blue, Susie, out of the blue,” Tom told her. He’d just taken their sandwiches from the deli girl, setting them on the table. “And he didn’t. This is the author I told you about, Edward Nashton? Who writes mysteries? Whose hair is remarkably similar to yours in colour?”
Nashton was getting another suspicious look-over from Susie, all squinty eyes and pursed lips and hands on her hips. “I dunno. Daddy says you can’t trust a redhead. I’m gonna have to run this by Charles.” She turned and waved. “Charles! Help!”
“Don’t yell for help unless you really need it,” Rachel told her. “We’ve been over this, Susie.”
“I do need help,” Susie reasoned. “He might be a bad person. Charles knows everybody, though.”
She was making Nashton smile as he leaned back in his chair after ordering from the deli girl. “Really? He knows everyone? And who is . . . . Oh,” he said shortly as Charles and Janet crossed the street. “Charles.”
She didn’t look entirely happy to see him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nashton. What are you doing here?”
He cleared his throat and sat straighter; Charles had that effect on people. “Researching my next novel. I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Because it’s none of your business,” she said coolly. She nodded to Tom and Helna as they said their goodbyes and left, then smiled when she saw Rachel feeding Ava. “Any reason you picked Loleta?”
“If I’d known you were here, I’d have gone somewhere else,” Nashton replied. “But no, no reason. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“--- then I put in Rory, too, ’cause Daddy loves Rory. And Doc’s friend liked my Mensa card,” Susie was telling Rachel. She was leaning in close for warmth, watching Ava eat. “Does it still hurt? Does she bite you?”
“It hurts a bit, and no, she doesn’t. She will once she starts getting her teeth, though. We’ll send your picture off as soon as we get home.” Rachel sighed as some of her tension left. Charles would have made Mr. Nashton leave if he was a threat, and by the sounds of it, she owned his publishing company. She looked up at Janet. “How was it?”
“Well, we’ve figured out that I’ve been severely traumatised,” was the reply. Janet sighed and hunched in on herself when a group of teenagers walked up, snug in fur-trimmed jackets and laughing together. They stopped when they saw Janet, quietly filing into the deli and glancing over their shoulders. Rachel recognised Cathy as the girl stomped the snow from her boots and told the others to shut up. Janet cleared her throat. “Thank you for not making me go back to school,” she said quietly. “The school’s guidance counsellor says that on home study, I can graduate early if I work hard. Then I can get a job and help more with bills and food and . . . stuff.”
Rachel smiled at her. “Thank you, Janet, but you don’t have to help any more than you already are. And you are a huge help.”
“I want to,” Janet said as she pulled her scarf up higher. “I can’t just mooch off of you and Jack forever. I need to do something.” Ava let her nipple go and whined a little, and for a minute Rachel was preoccupied with moving the baby to her other breast. Janet used that time to keep talking. “I know I’m only sixteen, but in a year and a half I’ll be eighteen, and I can’t just up and leave, you know. I can’t leave Susie.”
“She promised she’d stay,” Susie said with quiet earnestness as she left Rachel’s side to hug her sister.
“And even if I could,” Janet went on, “what use would that be? Look, I, I don’t know what I want to do, yet, but I don’t want to spend the next year and a half studying when I could be being useful to you. Charles can’t stay with us forever.”
“She can’t?” Susie asked, looking up at Janet.
Janet smiled down at her and tugged the pompom on her knit hat, then adjusted her scarf. “No, Susie, she can’t. She has work in Gotham. She’s just helping until Jack’s back.”
“Will Daddy be back for Christmas? Can we visit him?” Rachel had just covered her eyes with her free hand to keep her tears from view when Nashton reached over and poked Susie in the side with his cane. She whipped around, outraged. “Hey!”
“If you’re not careful,” he told her, “people will think you’re a snowman because you’re so pale.”
“I’m not a snowman!” Susie exclaimed. “You’re mean! Rachel, he’s terrible!”
Nashton shrugged and poked her again, pulling his cane back before she could grab it. “It’s not my fault you’ve got no melanin in your skin. I bet you turn into a freckle-faced lobster in the summer.”
“I do not! Charles, shoot him!”
Rachel sighed and grabbed the hood of Susie’s jacket as she started toward Nashton, baring her teeth and growling. “Susie, Ava’s done eating. Do you want to burp her?”
Whipping around, Susie hugged Rachel. “Yes! I’m the best at burping Ava,” she told Nashton haughtily. “You can’t hold her.”
“No skin off my nose,” he replied easily. “I don’t like kids.”
“Well, we don’t like you, either.” Susie sniffed and turned her back on him, pulling a chair closer and sitting in it as she waited for Rachel to adjust herself and hand Ava over.
The group of teenagers left the deli with their sandwiches and drinks in hand, and Cathy lingered behind. “Uh . . . Janet? Can I, uh . . .” She jerked her head down the street a little. Her friends kept walking.
Janet looked surprised and a little apprehensive as she nodded. Charles was giving her the go-ahead, and she stopped at the second shop down, turning to Cathy and crossing her arms over her chest. The bulkiness of her winter clothing and the scarf covering the lower half of her face afforded her a sense of security. “What?”
Cathy looked as nervous as Janet felt as she tugged on her blonde hair and shifted from foot to foot. “Look, Janet, uhm . . . Are you coming back to school?”
“No. I’m in home study.”
Cathy’s face fell a bit. She nibbled on her lower lip and didn’t meet Janet’s gaze. That was all right; Janet was avoiding hers, as well. “Oh. Uhm, look, you know Marco’s dad works with Mr. Fine, right, and Marco heard him talking to his mom about talking with Tom, and . . . We all know,” she finished. Not even the cold could account for the red of her face and she jumped in front of Janet as the girl whipped around to stalk off. “Wait! Wait, please, Janet. Marco told everyone in school. Mom . . . Mom heard . . .” Cathy’s eyes were filling up with tears and she sniffed. “Mom heard us talking about it. We were . . . we were laughing, but Janet, please listen to me!”
“Why?” Janet asked coldly. Everyone knew. They all knew what had happened to her. They’d laughed about it. “So you can laugh at me some more? Fuck off, Cathy.”
“No! Mom yelled at us,” Cathy hissed. “She grounded me, she took away my car, my phone, my computer . . . I’m only allowed out today to finish Christmas shopping.” She shook her head, frustrated, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s not important. Did you . . . Are you pregnant? Are you sick?”
Janet shook her head as she crossed her arms over her stomach. “What the hell do you want?” she whispered as she started crying.
“I want to know that you’re all right,” Cathy told her, awkwardly patting her shoulder. Janet didn’t understand why she was in tears, too. “I’m sorry, Janet. Mom was so mad when she heard us making fun of you. She told me that she was . . . she was raped when she was younger. That’s where she got AIDS, and . . . and me.” Now Cathy was crying all-out, rubbing at her face as Janet stared at her. “I didn’t . . . she didn’t . . . I just want to know that you, that that’s not what happened to you,” she muttered as a car pulled up and honked. “I’m sorry. We’ll be nice to you. I just . . . I’m sorry.”
Cathy turned and hurried to the car, shaking her head at the woman who was driving. Janet stared after her until Charles touched her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah,” she repeated, stronger. “Cathy just . . .”
“Told you about her mother?” Charles nodded when Janet looked at her in shock. “I’m omniscient, or close enough. Hannah told me about it before you got back from Metropolis. She also told me that Cathy was supposed to talk with you. Did it go well?”
Janet cleared her throat and shrugged, then nodded. “Uhm, I guess. She apologised.” She took the napkin Charles gave her and wiped her face, smiling. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Come on, let’s get back home.” Charles took Janet’s elbow and led her back to Rachel, Ava, and Susie, herding all of them to the car. Janet was smiling softly the entire way home.
She shouldn’t have let Tom and Helna take Ava inside. She should have gone in with them. What sort of mother didn’t want to be around her child, especially with two days until Christmas? Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and hunched lower into her parka. Helna had convinced her that coming into town when Charles took Janet and Susie in for counselling would be good for her. She hadn’t said a thing when Rachel had shown no interest in holding Ava or pushing her stroller, which, oddly, only served to make Rachel feel even worse. She found it slightly easier to care for Ava when they were at home, but that was possibly due to Charles always being there --- she never let Rachel not be there when Ava needed feeding, or burping, or tummy time. Rachel never said that the times she was stretched out on the couch, her blouse open, with Ava laying on her bare skin in only a diaper, were the times she missed Jack the most. He should have been there to help. He should have spent the first two and a half weeks of Ava’s life being with his baby, with Rachel.
A flash of orange-red caught her eye and she glanced up out of reflex; the man who had moved into the apartments above the coffee shop was at the window again. He had only caught her eye because his was the only window not decked out with holidays lights and decorations. Rachel supposed he had a desk there, from the way he sat leaning forward and looking down. His striking hair had been catching her eye all week, every time she let Tom and Helna take Ava inside while she herself waited outside. Rachel wondered what he did, that let him sit there for so long.
But she really ought to get up and go inside, pick Ava up, or just be there so the baby could see that her mother really did care about her. Rachel hated that she felt so apathetic toward her child, but couldn’t see a way to make herself want to be near the girl. Every time she looked at Ava, she was reminded of Jack. Every time she thought of Jack, she was reminded, as if she needed a reminder, that he was in Arkham Asylum and not by her side, and not with his child. It made her mad enough that she was grateful Janet had started helping with Ava more. Sometimes Rachel was angry enough that she found herself snapping at the girls for no reason. Sometimes she had to leave Ava fussing downstairs while she curled up in her big, lonely bed and bit her pillow, screaming into it.
The wind picked up and brought a heady, thick scent with it moments before there was a tap-shuffle, tap-shuffle across the pavement. There was a soft grunt, then a man cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but would it be all right if I sat down?” The man from above the coffee shop smiled down at her when she glanced up in surprise, his solid blue eyes sparkling as he slapped his right leg. Rachel looked down. The sole of his right shoe was a good inch and a half thicker than the left shoe. “I’m not used to the stairs, and with the cold weather . . .”
There were at least four Marines watching her, Rachel reminded herself. Hers was the only table outside at the moment. The red-head in front of her was using both hands to lean on his curved cane, and the squint of his eyes was almost the same as the squint Jack got when he had a migraine.
And he was politely waiting for her answer. Rachel cleared her throat and nodded quickly, gesturing with her left hand. “Ah, yes, please, have a seat.”
His sigh was grateful as he pulled out the chair opposite her and brushed the snow off of it before sitting. “Thank you.” He held his left hand out. “Edward Nashton.” Rachel took it reluctantly; his grip was light, non-threatening, and he let her go sooner than she’d expected him to. “That’s a beautiful bracelet. Is it custom?”
His question took Rachel by surprise and she covered the back of her hand, nodding. “Ah . . . Yes. Uhm, I’m Rachel.”
He used both hands to adjust his right leg. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. . . .? You are married, right?” he asked. Rachel had started with surprise. “The bracelet’s attached to the ring on your ring finger. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be presumptive.”
Rachel cleared her throat and shook her head. “Oh, no, you’re right, I’m married. I’m sorry, Mr. Nashton, I’m not . . .”
“It’s all right,” he assured her as he ran a hand through his chin-length hair. “My desk is right by the window; I’ve seen you out here the last week.” When she didn’t seem keen on saying anything, he tilted his head to the side and breathed in deeply, enjoying the Christmas-y scents coming from the coffee shop. “You know that’s a slave bracelet, right?” he asked after a few moments.
“Yes,” Rachel replied shortly. “My husband and I are well aware of the significance.”
“Really?” Nashton shook his head briefly. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. Can I get you a drink? Some coffee? Tea?”
“No, thank you. My friends should be out soon.” Rachel sighed as she peered inside, hoping Tom and Helna would finish up and wishing, for once, that she shared Jack’s disregard of social niceties. She turned back to the curious man across from her as he adjusted his coat and tried to smile politely. “I’m sorry, Mr. Nashton, this isn’t . . . I’m not at my best, right now.”
“And that’s all right. I shouldn’t be prying. You’re just . . . very interesting, Rachel.” He cleared his throat as the deli door opened. “Ah, Lieutenant Fine, Mrs. Fine. How are you?”
“Good, thanks,” Tom said. He adjusted his uniform and handed Rachel a cup of cocoa. “You’ve met Rachel, then?”
“Sort of. Now doesn’t seem like the best time for introductions.” Nashton got up with a smile, still leaning on his cane. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Rachel. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Helna walked around him as he continued to watch Rachel, kneeling in front of her and unzipping her parka. “Time to eat. She was fussing a little inside.”
Right on cue, Rachel’s breasts started to ache and she could feel milk leaking from them; it always happened when someone mentioned Ava, often when she even thought of the baby. “Right now?” she asked. She hadn’t nursed the baby in public before, and Nashton was still watching with raised eyebrows. “Helna, we’re in public ---”
“And your baby has to eat. I do it with Mitzi all the time. Look, we just put her in the sling, like that . . . Good! And then --- No, pull it down, Rachel. She had a bottle last time. You’re not getting out of this.” Helna wasn’t deterred by Rachel’s protests, fighting with her until she had Rachel’s maternity shirt pulled to the side and her nursing cup down. Helna was close enough, and Rachel’s parka was bulky enough, that she was safe from Mr. Nashton’s gaze as she adjusted Ava and offered the baby her nipple. Rachel kept her eyes on her child as she latched on and grunted a little as she started sucking. She had to adjust Ava, wincing as she did so.
“I didn’t realise the baby wasn’t yours,” Nashton said as he finally looked at Tom. “You’d mentioned you had a daughter and I‘d never seen the baby with Rachel, so I just assumed . . .” He trailed off at the look Tom gave him, clearing his throat. “My apologies. So,” he continued, “how old is she? It is a she, right?”
“Her name’s Ava,” Rachel finally spoke up. If she gave him just a little information, maybe he’d go away. “She’s sixteen days old.”
“Congratulations. You and your husband must be proud.”
Rachel took a gulp of her cocoa before answering, curling in toward Ava as much as was comfortable. “Mr. Nashton, I’m sorry to be so rude, but my husband is receiving medical attention in New York right now. Thank you for your well-wishes, but he hasn’t seen his baby since she was a week old, we’ve got two other children he also hasn’t seen and won’t be able to see for at least a month, and this just isn’t --- it’s a bad time to be making new acquaintances, Mr. Nashton, a terrible time.”
“I’m sorry about that. It’s my fault; I’m too nosy for my own good.”
“Rachel! Rachel! Let’s send this to Daddy! Look what I drew!” Susie came running across the street, dodging snow drifts that were larger than she was and waving a piece of paper around. “Oh! Who are you? You better be nice to my baby sister and to Rachel! Charles! Who is this guy?!”
“Susie!” Rachel snapped. The girl turned to her quickly, her nose as red as her hair, and dropped her eyes. “Don’t be rude. This is Mr. Nashton.”
Susie gave him a sceptical once-over, moving to stand in front of Rachel. “You’re the guy from that place,” she said as she pointed to his apartment. “You never come out. Are you a vampire? Did you kill someone and now you’re in Witness Protection? Is that why you have a cane? Why’s your shoes different?”
Only Helna’s hand on her arm kept Rachel from grabbing the girl. “Susie! I’m sorry, Mr. Nashton ---”
He just stared at the girl as he held his hand up. “My shoes are different because my right leg’s shorter than my left; I need a thicker sole to make up the difference.”
Having decided he wasn’t a threat to Ava, Susie had settled on being curious. “Why’s it shorter? Did someone cut your knee off and then you had to have surgery to replace it?”
This level of interrogation obviously wasn’t something he was used to, not from a girl as young as Susie. “No. I was born like this. It’s called Short Leg Syndrome. You’re awfully nosy, Susie.”
“You’re awfully suspicious,” was her reply, “just showing up here outa the green, with your weird hair.”
“Blue, Susie, out of the blue,” Tom told her. He’d just taken their sandwiches from the deli girl, setting them on the table. “And he didn’t. This is the author I told you about, Edward Nashton? Who writes mysteries? Whose hair is remarkably similar to yours in colour?”
Nashton was getting another suspicious look-over from Susie, all squinty eyes and pursed lips and hands on her hips. “I dunno. Daddy says you can’t trust a redhead. I’m gonna have to run this by Charles.” She turned and waved. “Charles! Help!”
“Don’t yell for help unless you really need it,” Rachel told her. “We’ve been over this, Susie.”
“I do need help,” Susie reasoned. “He might be a bad person. Charles knows everybody, though.”
She was making Nashton smile as he leaned back in his chair after ordering from the deli girl. “Really? He knows everyone? And who is . . . . Oh,” he said shortly as Charles and Janet crossed the street. “Charles.”
She didn’t look entirely happy to see him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nashton. What are you doing here?”
He cleared his throat and sat straighter; Charles had that effect on people. “Researching my next novel. I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Because it’s none of your business,” she said coolly. She nodded to Tom and Helna as they said their goodbyes and left, then smiled when she saw Rachel feeding Ava. “Any reason you picked Loleta?”
“If I’d known you were here, I’d have gone somewhere else,” Nashton replied. “But no, no reason. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“--- then I put in Rory, too, ’cause Daddy loves Rory. And Doc’s friend liked my Mensa card,” Susie was telling Rachel. She was leaning in close for warmth, watching Ava eat. “Does it still hurt? Does she bite you?”
“It hurts a bit, and no, she doesn’t. She will once she starts getting her teeth, though. We’ll send your picture off as soon as we get home.” Rachel sighed as some of her tension left. Charles would have made Mr. Nashton leave if he was a threat, and by the sounds of it, she owned his publishing company. She looked up at Janet. “How was it?”
“Well, we’ve figured out that I’ve been severely traumatised,” was the reply. Janet sighed and hunched in on herself when a group of teenagers walked up, snug in fur-trimmed jackets and laughing together. They stopped when they saw Janet, quietly filing into the deli and glancing over their shoulders. Rachel recognised Cathy as the girl stomped the snow from her boots and told the others to shut up. Janet cleared her throat. “Thank you for not making me go back to school,” she said quietly. “The school’s guidance counsellor says that on home study, I can graduate early if I work hard. Then I can get a job and help more with bills and food and . . . stuff.”
Rachel smiled at her. “Thank you, Janet, but you don’t have to help any more than you already are. And you are a huge help.”
“I want to,” Janet said as she pulled her scarf up higher. “I can’t just mooch off of you and Jack forever. I need to do something.” Ava let her nipple go and whined a little, and for a minute Rachel was preoccupied with moving the baby to her other breast. Janet used that time to keep talking. “I know I’m only sixteen, but in a year and a half I’ll be eighteen, and I can’t just up and leave, you know. I can’t leave Susie.”
“She promised she’d stay,” Susie said with quiet earnestness as she left Rachel’s side to hug her sister.
“And even if I could,” Janet went on, “what use would that be? Look, I, I don’t know what I want to do, yet, but I don’t want to spend the next year and a half studying when I could be being useful to you. Charles can’t stay with us forever.”
“She can’t?” Susie asked, looking up at Janet.
Janet smiled down at her and tugged the pompom on her knit hat, then adjusted her scarf. “No, Susie, she can’t. She has work in Gotham. She’s just helping until Jack’s back.”
“Will Daddy be back for Christmas? Can we visit him?” Rachel had just covered her eyes with her free hand to keep her tears from view when Nashton reached over and poked Susie in the side with his cane. She whipped around, outraged. “Hey!”
“If you’re not careful,” he told her, “people will think you’re a snowman because you’re so pale.”
“I’m not a snowman!” Susie exclaimed. “You’re mean! Rachel, he’s terrible!”
Nashton shrugged and poked her again, pulling his cane back before she could grab it. “It’s not my fault you’ve got no melanin in your skin. I bet you turn into a freckle-faced lobster in the summer.”
“I do not! Charles, shoot him!”
Rachel sighed and grabbed the hood of Susie’s jacket as she started toward Nashton, baring her teeth and growling. “Susie, Ava’s done eating. Do you want to burp her?”
Whipping around, Susie hugged Rachel. “Yes! I’m the best at burping Ava,” she told Nashton haughtily. “You can’t hold her.”
“No skin off my nose,” he replied easily. “I don’t like kids.”
“Well, we don’t like you, either.” Susie sniffed and turned her back on him, pulling a chair closer and sitting in it as she waited for Rachel to adjust herself and hand Ava over.
The group of teenagers left the deli with their sandwiches and drinks in hand, and Cathy lingered behind. “Uh . . . Janet? Can I, uh . . .” She jerked her head down the street a little. Her friends kept walking.
Janet looked surprised and a little apprehensive as she nodded. Charles was giving her the go-ahead, and she stopped at the second shop down, turning to Cathy and crossing her arms over her chest. The bulkiness of her winter clothing and the scarf covering the lower half of her face afforded her a sense of security. “What?”
Cathy looked as nervous as Janet felt as she tugged on her blonde hair and shifted from foot to foot. “Look, Janet, uhm . . . Are you coming back to school?”
“No. I’m in home study.”
Cathy’s face fell a bit. She nibbled on her lower lip and didn’t meet Janet’s gaze. That was all right; Janet was avoiding hers, as well. “Oh. Uhm, look, you know Marco’s dad works with Mr. Fine, right, and Marco heard him talking to his mom about talking with Tom, and . . . We all know,” she finished. Not even the cold could account for the red of her face and she jumped in front of Janet as the girl whipped around to stalk off. “Wait! Wait, please, Janet. Marco told everyone in school. Mom . . . Mom heard . . .” Cathy’s eyes were filling up with tears and she sniffed. “Mom heard us talking about it. We were . . . we were laughing, but Janet, please listen to me!”
“Why?” Janet asked coldly. Everyone knew. They all knew what had happened to her. They’d laughed about it. “So you can laugh at me some more? Fuck off, Cathy.”
“No! Mom yelled at us,” Cathy hissed. “She grounded me, she took away my car, my phone, my computer . . . I’m only allowed out today to finish Christmas shopping.” She shook her head, frustrated, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s not important. Did you . . . Are you pregnant? Are you sick?”
Janet shook her head as she crossed her arms over her stomach. “What the hell do you want?” she whispered as she started crying.
“I want to know that you’re all right,” Cathy told her, awkwardly patting her shoulder. Janet didn’t understand why she was in tears, too. “I’m sorry, Janet. Mom was so mad when she heard us making fun of you. She told me that she was . . . she was raped when she was younger. That’s where she got AIDS, and . . . and me.” Now Cathy was crying all-out, rubbing at her face as Janet stared at her. “I didn’t . . . she didn’t . . . I just want to know that you, that that’s not what happened to you,” she muttered as a car pulled up and honked. “I’m sorry. We’ll be nice to you. I just . . . I’m sorry.”
Cathy turned and hurried to the car, shaking her head at the woman who was driving. Janet stared after her until Charles touched her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah,” she repeated, stronger. “Cathy just . . .”
“Told you about her mother?” Charles nodded when Janet looked at her in shock. “I’m omniscient, or close enough. Hannah told me about it before you got back from Metropolis. She also told me that Cathy was supposed to talk with you. Did it go well?”
Janet cleared her throat and shrugged, then nodded. “Uhm, I guess. She apologised.” She took the napkin Charles gave her and wiped her face, smiling. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Come on, let’s get back home.” Charles took Janet’s elbow and led her back to Rachel, Ava, and Susie, herding all of them to the car. Janet was smiling softly the entire way home.