Change of Season 3a.
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
Change of seasons, Part 3
1
" 83 Charing Cross Way, " Joyce tells the cabbie as she enters the cab.
Joyce watches the scenery go by as the cab makes it's way to Faith's address. But her mind is a million miles away.
She's feeling guilty.
She should be in New York. That's the agenda. She planned on being there already.
Instead, she called her Aunt, and told her that she was going to be delayed in Boston. There was an art auction at the end of the week she didn't want to miss. And then she'd be going to New York after. Could she keep Buffy and Dawn an extra week?
She lied. She hates lying. Yet, she lied as glibly as Hank all those times when he told her he was working late. Or had a business conference out of town.
Ok, so I'm not perfect. I want to spend some more time with Faith. We're having fun. Geeze, I've been wife and mom and business woman for the last 20 years. Can't remember when I had a real vacation. Had some real fun. What's the harm?
What about Faith? What is she doing, spending all her time with you? Doesn’t she have friends or family or a life? Why is a girl half your age hanging out with you, Joyce? Unless she's thinking there's more here than there is.
That's stupid. I told her upfront, this is just fun. Nothing more. She knows that.
Right, and feelings are so easily kept in little boxes, all safe and clean and tidy.
I'm not her mom. I'm not responsible for her. She's an adult.
She's almost Buffy's age. What if Buffy came home with someone twice her age? Would you think that?
She's a lot more mature than Buffy. She knows the score.
Bullshit. And you're lying about what you're feeling too. She wants more, and you want more. Be honest, at least with yourself. Ok?
No, that's not true. It's just fun, that's all we're doing here. Having some fun. When I leave for New York, it's done. She knows that. I know that too.
Right. Nice, Joyce. Play with her, then throw her away. Disposable friend. And if you break her heart?
I told her, it's all just casual. I didn't say or imply anything else.
You kissed her.
Just a friendly kiss. It meant nothing. A thank you kiss for a nice time. Nothing more than that.
And if she thought it was more?
Not my fault!
Right. And what happens if you find after you leave, you wanted more? What happens if your heart breaks?
Not going to happen. Can't happen. I have a family and responsibilities. That's all there is to it. This is just now, and when I leave it's over.
So cold, Joyce. So very cold.
Joyce looks out, trying to distract herself from her inner conflict.
She sees a South Boston in transition. While there are still too many examples of the 'reputed' neighborhood, with it's dilapidated storefronts and narrow row houses, Joyce can see that the area has come alive, making changes befitting an alive and vibrant community.
The area they turn into, for instance, shows the touch of a neighborhood that cares. The row houses have seen renovations recently, with fresh paint and repairs to the exteriors. The lawns, though tiny, are neat and well groomed. There's evidence of a renewal project ongoing, with trees and flowers and green areas being added to the cement and brickwork.
The streets are neat, and kept clean of debris. It shows the people living here take pride in their surroundings.
" First time in South Boston, ma'am?"
" Pretty much, yes," Joyce looks around like a tourist, " wasn't sure what to expect."
" Ah, yes, Southie has a bit of a reputation. We're working to change that, " the cabbie says. " My names Farley, by the way, and I live not too far from here."
" Joyce Summers. Nice to meet you Farley." Joyce smiles. "Everything looks so clean."
" AH, well, this is a nice neighborhood with working class folk. Not like some parts, where they all run wild. Nice Irish Catholic folk here. We like to keep it nice." He pulls the cab over a curb fronting what looks for all the world like a village green. " We're here."
" I'm sorry?" She looks out at the square. " I thought this would be a residence." She looks confused.
" Ah, no this is the square for Charing Cross, ma'am. They've closed off the residential streets to automobile traffic. Makes it safer for the kids, don't you know?"
" Oh, I see, " Joyce smiles. " So, where is Charing Cross way, then?"
" Oh, it's not far from here. Just follow the sidewalk around the green. Do you see the Chapel over there, on the left?"
" Yes, I do."
" Once you get there, you'll see a road. That's Hampton Lane. Just follow that down, bearing to the left. Charing Cross is the third street down. You can't miss it."
" Thank you," Joyce says, getting out of the cab. She pays him, giving him a good tip. Farley smiles broadly.
" Thank you, Joyce," he nods, handing her a card." If you be needing a ride later, you give that number a call. I'll make sure you make it back to your hotel ok."
" Thanks again, Farley," Joyce says, and the cab departs.
Joyce makes her way about the green, following the path the Chapel. She notes that the business and houses here look particularly well kept, and while there is nothing ' new' here, everything has a sense of cleanliness and order. This appeals to her. I was a little worried, meeting her down in her neighborhood. I can see I was a little foolish.
She comes to the chapel, and notes a plaque stating the church is 150 years old, one of the first in the area. She smiles, loving the feel of the place, and the atmosphere of being in a bit of history. History in California means if it's over 20 years, it's a classic, and over 40, a relic. She stands a moment, just taking it in. Or dawdling.
She briefly wonders if maybe she hasn't made a mistake. She's still conflicted on where this is going, and thinks it might be better if she just found a phone and called to have Farley pick her back up and go back to the hotel. End this now, before it gets too bad. Too serious.
She turns, looking around, debating with herself.
I can't just not show up. That's rude and cowardly. I'll do this, and end it at the end of the date. Tell her it's been fun, but I've got to get to New York, and back home.
Uh-huh.
I will.
There's silence from the ' other side'.
What?
You're not going to end it. You're going to go on, and someone's going to get hurt. Probably Faith, possibly you, maybe the both of you. And you know that, and I'm tired of trying to get you to do the right thing, because you'll say anything and do what you want, anyway. You should leave now, cut it quick, and cleanly, and let her go. But you're not going to. And it's going to be a big fat mess. Nice work, Joyce!
Be quiet! I don't want to hear it anymore.
You're not going to.
" Hey, can I help you, ma'am?" An older gentleman, out for a walk, stops by Joyce.
" I'm sorry?" Joyce says, coming out of her reverie. " Oh, no. I'm just looking for Charing Cross way. The cabbie said it was around here somewhere."
" You're very close. It's just down this street here, " the man points down the street. " Just walk down three blocks. That's Charing Cross Way. What address, if I can ask?"
" 83 Charing Cross way."
" Ah, ok, when you get to Charing Cross, make a right then. It'll be on your right hand side. You can't miss it."
" Thank you," Joyce says, as the man touches his hat and continues on his way.
A few minutes later, Joyce reaches Charing Cross way, and as the man directed, turns right and continues down the street. She reaches 83, and turning, goes up the stoop.
Joyce reaches Faith's door, and knocks. She waits for awhile, and then knocks again. Her brow furrows. She looks at her watch, and confirms the time. She knocks a third time.
" Faith? Are you in there? It's Joyce." She knocks again
Did she forget about our date?
Joyce can't believe how much it hurts, all of a sudden.
Not so much fun when it's you, huh, Joyce?
Shut up!
Frowning, she starts down the stoop, and hitting the street, starts back towards Hampton Lane.
I hope she's all right. So strange, she seemed so up for the date.
A voice, pleasant with an Irish lilt, interrupts her thoughts and stops her progress.
"Hello there!" A pleasant looking woman, a little older than Joyce comes running down the stoop of the Row house next to Faith's. " Are you Joyce, by chance?"
" Yes, that's me, " Joyce agrees.
" Ah, yes, you're just as Faith described you. Hi, I'm Patty Malloy, Faith's neighbor. She said you'd be coming by."
Joyce meets Patty on the street. She offers Patty her hand.
" Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Malloy, " Joyce says, noticing the ring on Patty's left hand.
" Ah, no. That's Miss Malloy, actually. Used to be Mrs. O'Hearne, before my Sean died. Had the cancer, you know."
" Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible," Joyce sympathizes.
" Ah, well," Patty sighs, " Loved the big galoot dearly, but he had a head made of rock. Smoked too many cigarettes, he did. I tried to get him to quit, but he always said smoking was he one thing he could do well, without the police getting after him," Patty laughs. " He was a character, was Sean O'Hearne." She smiles nostalgically. " but he was a good provider. We've been living off the pension his company had for him. I do some cleaning and sewing as side work, to bring in some extra money." Patty shakes her head, and laughs. " Will you listen to me go on! Sean always said I was the gabby one. I guess he was right!"
" Oh, that's just fine," Joyce laughs along with her.
Patty is just one of those people. She makes you feel like you've known her all her life, even if you've just met her.
" I take it you're a friend of Faith's?" Joyce asks, continuing.
" Oh yes. She asked me to look out for you. She's down at the community center again. That girl spends a lot of free time down there, doing this and that. I think she's taking some classes, too. Trying to improve herself, she says. I say, if you look like that girl, how much improving do you need?" Patty chuckles. " She's an ambitious one. Wants to go to college. Can you imagine?"
" She never mentioned that to me, " Joyce says, a little surprised. Well, there's a lot more to Faith than good times, I see.
" Oh yes. She was a little wild when she was younger, but these days, all the kids are that way. I swear, sometimes, I just don't know what my own will turn out like," Patty shakes her head. " They seem so aimless. Like they expect the world to be handed to them on a sliver platter when they're done with school. Kids," She shrugs.
" I know what you mean. I have two daughters myself. I sometimes wonder about them."
" See, that's why you just got to love Faith. She's really trying to put her ' wild days' behind her, and make something of herself. She's something, that one. She's gonna do it to , you mark my words." Patty laughs again. " There I go, bending your ear right off. Anyway, I'm to tell you that Faith's at the community center, and she was wondering if you could meet her there?"
"Sure, thanks," Joyce looks around, confused. " Where is the community center, anyway?"
" Oh yeah, you don't know. Where's my mind?" Patty slaps her forehead with her palm. " It's really close. Look, did you come in through the green?"
" Yes."
" Ok, then, you must've seen the Catholic Chapel? Right?"
" Yes, it's very pretty."
" Oh yeah, old too. Been around for a long time. Me and Sean and the kids used to go all the time, " Patty says, nodding. " Ah, but after Sean passed away, I sort of lost interest. And now, with all the stuff going on with the church! It's terrible, terrible. Who would've thought priests could do such an awful thing."
" Yes, it's terrible. Those poor children, " Joyce nods.
They're quiet for a few moments.
" Ummm… so you were telling me how to get to the community center?"
" What? Oh my, I get so silly sometimes. Yes, of course. Right across the square from the Chapel is the community center. Large brick building. Can't miss it."
" It must be getting late. Do you think it's still open?"
" Hmmm. Oh, let me see, " Patty consults her watch. " It's 7:30 now. Sure, the center stays open til nine. You've got plenty of time," She smiles.
" Well, thank you again, Miss Malloy…"
" Oh, please, call me Patty. I feel so old when people get all formal on me."
" Well, Patty, it's been a pleasure to meet you," Joyce says.
" You too, Joyce. Don't be a stranger now. Drop by anytime, maybe for coffee and a talk," Patty smiles, going up her stoop.
Joyce waves, and starts down the block.
As Joyce turns the corner on Hampton Lane, she grins a little bit.
See? She's making something of herself. She's not looking to me for anything but a good time.
Sure, Joyce, just keep telling yourself that. Nice way to ease your conscience.
You’re a real nag, you know that?
Joyce hurries down the street.
2
Faith looks at the easel before her, frowning. She looks at the subject she's painting, then back at her painting on the easel.
Something's not right, but I can't figure what I'm doing wrong. She stares at the model, then back down at the painting. Mixing a color, daubing it on the easel, she moves back, still not satisfied.
Damn, something's off, but I can't quite tell what. She shrugs.
" How's it looking?" the model, a young girl about Faith's age, with long flowing black curls and wide blue eyes. " So, did you make me look hot?"
" Braden, you know you look 'hot', that's never been something you ever doubted."
" Yeah, but do I look hot in your picture? I want Jimmy to be droolin' over me, you know," Braden grins. " When he sees that, I want him aching for the real thing, you know?"
To demonstrate, she cups her breasts and lifts them. She sticks out her tongue, playfully.
" So what you think? Sexy?"
Faith looks at her and laughs. She looks at the nude study on the canvas, and smirks.
" Don't worry, Jimmy'll be wetting himself when I'm done here. Still a few things I need to fix, but it's comin' along just great."
" I wanna see!" Braden gets up from the couch where she's been reclining, and walks toward Faith.
" Get back there, Braden, or we're never going to get this done." Faith waves her back towards the lounger.
" Hey, I'm paying for this, Faith. I've got a right to see it, " Braden pouts. She stands there, naked, hands on hips.
And of course, she knows she's just cute as hell like that, Faith smirks, shaking her head.
" Don't you know? All the great artists don't show their work until it's completed."
" Well, excuse ME, Pabla Picasso!" Braden shakes her head.
" Well, be glad I'm not a cubist like Picasso. Or I'd probably have one of your boobs coming out your ear, and the other attached to your elbow."
" Huh? You didn’t!" Braden comes the rest of the way, and looks at the canvas. " Don't scare me like that!" She studies the painting of herself, and smiles. " Wow. You made me gorgeous. Screw Jimmy, maybe I'll just hang this on my wall for myself." She laughs.
" Ok, sneaky. You got your peek, now go back and get in your pose so I can work."
" C'mon, Faith, don't you think I'm pretty?" Braden pouts her lips, " You must; you made me pretty." She admires the canvas.
" Oh, you're just gorgeous, except for that swelled head of yours, " Faith growls," Now go back and let's get back to work."
" Oh, you're just being such a poop!" Braden walks back, and reclines on the lounge. " I thought all the great artists slept with their models." She giggles.
" Don't you got a date with Jimmy tonight?" Faith dismisses her flirting. She adds some strokes to the painting.
" Oh god, what time is it? I was supposed to meet him at 9:00 tonight!" Braden looks panicked.
" Relax. If it were nine, they'd boot us outta here. Now just lay back and let me do a little more…"
" Faith, are you in here?" A voice calls out from the doorway. A very familiar voice.
" J-Joyce?" Faith calls out. Oh, man! I forgot. She's supposed to meet me here! Crap! " Hey, Braden. Sessions over. Get up and get dressed."
" We're not done yet!" Braden protests, as Faith comes over carrying her robe.
" Faith, the girl downstairs said I could find you …."
Joyce walks in and seeing the nude girl on the couch, and Faith looking a little guilty, quickly turns around.
" Oh…my… sorry… I didn't mean to …" She blushes, and starts for the door.
" Joyce, wait!" Faith runs towards her.
" Faith? What's going on? Who's that woman? Where are you going?" Braden calls out after her. She starts to put on her robe.
" Joyce! Wait!" Faith catches her, and grabs her by the arm.
" No, that's … I… sorry, I didn't know … so embarrassed… look, sorry, I thought we had a date… guess I was mixed up… sorry…"
" Huh? Of course we got a date. What're you… oh my god! No, Joyce, no, it's nothing like…" Faith blocks her way. " Joyce, honest, nothing like that… look, come with me." She starts leading Joyce back into the studio.
" NO! I mean, no, that's ok, Faith. I… well, I'll call you or something, ok?" Joyce pulls away from Faith, trying to escape.
" Joyce, c'mon…." She keeps pulling her along, bringing her to the easel.
" Faith McKerrigan! Who is that woman?" Braden, in a robe now, stands halfway between the easel and the lounger. Her hands are back on her hips.
" Braden, please. She's a friend. " Faith makes the introductions. " Joyce, this is Braden. Braden, Joyce."
" Look, Faith, your … affairs are your business, " Joyce whispers to Faith. " I understand. We can get together tomorrow."
" Joyce, you really, really have it all wrong, " Faith points at the easel. " Look."
Joyce looks at the easel, and sees the painting in progress. She looks at Braden, and unconsciously sighs in relief. Then she looks at Faith, somewhat surprised.
" Now, Faith, don’t be coy with the lady, " Braden teases her. " You know all great artists sleep with their models."
Joyce picks up Braden's tone, and realizes she's teasing Faith. She plays along.
" Faith, are you having an affair with this young girl?" Joyce tries to put on a hurt voice, and keep from laughing.
Faith look like a deer caught in the headlights.
" Huh, what? No, for god's sake no! Braden… well, Braden is straight. She has a boyfriend, " Faith turns to Braden, and growls, " A boyfriend she's been complaining all night about meeting. Shouldn't you go do that, now?"
" Aw, Faithy- waithy, don't be that way," Braden winks at Joyce, " I mean, Jimmy's cute, but you know my heart is yours, baby."
" Faith, I'm shocked. How can you be so… cold," Joyce winks back at Braden." I mean it's obvious this girl is enamored with you, and you treat her like… well, like a model!" It's getting harder and harder to keep a straight face. Oh, my goodness, look at her. She's so panicked!" I guess I know when I've lost." Joyce's voice takes on a tragic quality.
Faith, thrown by Joyce's appearing here, isn't catching on. She looks more and more upset.
" Faith, baby, don't you love me no more?" Braden coos. " I'll drop Jimmy in a heartbeat, just say the word!" That might not be entirely just teasing on Braden's part.
" Faith, you dog. How can you lead this girl on? Lead me on? … oh, goodness, I can't do it anymore, look at her face," Joyce loses it, busting out laughing.
Braden takes one look at the panic and confusion written all over Faith's face, and joins Joyce in the laughter.
" Faith, you're so easy," Braden laughs, and moves to Joyce. " You must be the Joyce Faith has been talking about all afternoon. God, on and on and on…"
Joyce blushes a little.
" Braden? Keep the pie hole shut, ok?" Faith growls at her. " We're done for tonight."
" 'K, grouchy. Bye, Joyce, it was nice meeting you" Braden chuckles, and turning, walks to collect up her clothing. She grabs it, and walks out, heading to the bathroom to change.
Faith throws Braden a dirty look. If I didn't need the money… grrr.
Joyce, still somewhat surprised at Faith's abilities and that she's been talking about her to her friend … she's talking about me? To her friends? Oh, and don’t you just love it?… wanders over and studies the incomplete painting with a critical eye.
" Faith, you did this?" Joyce asks, drawing her attention away from Braden. Faith walks over, and seeing the way Joyce is studying the painting, feels suddenly a little nervous with a side of shy.
" Uhhh… yeah, " she says softly, at Joyce's elbow. Oh god, she hates it. I suck. She's a gallery owner. She'd know. I suck big time!
" Have you ever had any technical training? In drawing or perspective or proportion?" Joyce inquires, still studying the painting.
" No," Faiths says, a little edgily. " I mean, not all of us have like college education or nothing. Can’t afford to go to like a school…"
Joyce looks up, and looks at Faith, smiling. " I'm not being critical, Faith. This is quite good, even though it's not done. You have a nice eye, a good sense of design and form. Yes, sure, some of your perspective is a little off, and proportions are a little… strange, but it's really very nice," Joyce says, nodding. " I'd sell it, if I had it. Well, if it were complete."
Faith could only think of one thing that could make her happier than what Joyce just said. As it is, she almost feels like purring.
" Really?" Faith asks, " I thought it… I don't know, something's off." Faith does a little fishing.
" Well, artists often see something that's hard to put on the medium," Joyce is well aware what Faith is doing. She hasn't been running a gallery and dealing with artists for nothing. "Don't worry, you'll figure it out."
" Ah, it's really nothing anyway. Just do it to help with the rent and all." Faith says, waving her hand.
" What?"
" Oh, yeah. That place I live in, kinda pricey. I do this stuff for some of the neighborhood girls. It kind of helps buys stuff I can't budget on my salary, you know?"
" You've been doing this for awhile, then?"
" Oh yeah. Shoot, been drawing… heck, I can't remember when I started drawing. Just liked to do it. Helped me figure stuff out, you know what I mean? I mean, I had all this stuff going on when I was growing up." Faith moves away, feeling a little nervous. She's not used to sharing." I was a little… ok, a lot crazy growing up. I had these feelings, and didn't know how to deal with them. I didn’t really get it, and I acted out. I felt better when I was sketching or stuff. I felt I could put all the chaos in my head and heart down on paper, you know? I couldn't like write it out, didn't know the words. But I could draw it. Some of those sketches of mine? Really scary."
" So, when did you figure it out," Joyce asks, softly. " that you… well, were different?"
" You mean, when did I figure out I was a lesbian?" Faith chuckles at Joyce's discomfort. " It's ok, I'm not ashamed of what I am, Joyce. It's me, you know? I dunno, really. Ok, that's a lie. I fell hard for one of my friends. And well, she didn't see things the same way. It got kinda nasty, and she started calling me names. So, I kinda asked around what it meant, and I got lots of cold stares and looks, but Paulie… you remember, that jackass I introduced you to, " Faith was still feeling the sting and embarrassment of that meeting, " he sort of explained things to me. Then he asked me point blank if I liked girls… that way… and I shrugged and kind of admitted it."
She sighs, feeling a little anger. " He told me not to let on, to hide it. Southie? Not know for it's gay tolerance, if you catch my meaning. I know he was trying to protect me, but I was lying about what I was. I got really angry, inside, having to pretend to be like everybody else. That's not me. I started getting into some deep shit. Bad shit. Shit, I don't talk about," She stops the questions before they can start. " I pulled myself out before it got too bad, but it's only cuz I had the drawing and stuff. I kept me from going nuts." She looks at Joyce, her face neutral. " took awhile, and a lot of reading and stuff, and sneaking into Boston proper to find a Gay-Lesbian group, to accept what I am. I'm not like flying rainbow flags and stuff, or shouting it from the rooftops, but I'm not hiding it anymore, either. But that took some time. Not easy to be different when you're a kid, you know?"
Joyce feels a strong urge to gather the young woman in her arms, and cuddle her, trying to comfort her. She resists the urge, however, fearing it might be misconstrued. Instead she nods at the painting.
" So, when did you start working in oils?" Joyce asks, trying to change the subject.
" Oh that!" Faith laughs, " well, I was still just doing my drawing, and my girlfriend at the time, Maureen, she started teasing me. Said that ' real artists' did paintings. So, I said ' oh yeah?' and she said "oh yeah' and so I said 'ok, so what do I paint ?' and she said, 'well me of course, silly' so I got this wicked idea, and I said, ' ok, great. But you gotta pose nude' and she got all of a sudden shy. I mean, this girl was wild in bed, but she was shy about posing nude, can you get it? She made excuses and tried to back out, but I had her. So, I borrowed some stuff, and well, this was back when I lived on 6th street, I painted her in my apartment, cuz I didn't know if I could get away with it in well, like a public place like the community center… anyway, I painted her, and she saw it and got all like happy-happy and was so jazzed cuz, well, let's say I made some improvements and she asked,' hey is that how you see me?' and I said ' yeah' and she got all crazy and fucked my brains out that night. My first 'paid' commission," Faith laughs.
Joyce, imagining the scene, blushes just a little.
" All right. That might be more information than I really needed, " She says, her neck getting very warm.
" Well, you asked, didn't ya?" Faith is loving this. ." Anyway, after she dumped me, I kept the painting. Some of my friends saw it, and they wanted to be painted ' au natural' too… so… I kinda make some money on the side doing it now." Faith takes a deep breath. " whew."
" I really think you have talent, Faith," She stares at the canvas. For some reason, it gives her one of those low down tickles." Ummm… have you thought about going to school? Learning more technique?"
" Oh yeah, I guess I'll just enroll in some fancy art school, huh?" Faith sounds bitter. " Sorry, but some of us don't got the money for that kinda crap. Some of us are just making ends meet."
" There are scholarships, Faith. Grants for artists. Have you…"
" Don't pay the bills, Joyce. Don't get it done." She turns away, tired of talking about it. " Maybe we should just get outta here, you know? I kinda want to change into something not covered by paint before we go out."
" Ok, Faith," Joyce says, quietly. She comes over to the younger woman, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
" Just forget it, Joyce. It’s not a big deal. I just do this to make some cash," Faith waves her hand, then looks at Joyce, smiling. " Anyway, I got a classy lady I gotta take to dinner and a movie. So what say?" She winks.
" I say, let's go."
3
Joyce walked into the movie theater, and was overcome with a wave of nostalgia.
She hadn't been in a movie theater like this one in a long time. Not since she'd been Faith's age, or even younger.
It was an old theater, nothing like the modern mall theaters with multiple screens, narrow auditoriums hardly wider than the screen, and sound systems guaranteed to make you deaf. This was a movie palace.
Oh sure, it'd seen better days. Some of the tile was cracking, and it desperately needed paint. But the lobby was huge, with vaulted ceilings and carved moldings and an old fashioned snack counter with real oak counters and oh, my is that…
" Is that popcorn. I mean," Joyce takes in the scent wafting through the air," Fresh popped popcorn. Not that stuff they buy pre popped in bags and reheat?"
"Oh, it's fresh. Really good. That's one of the pluses of this joint, " Faith says, walking to the counter." The popcorn is the best. That , and they got good movies." She raises a brow, asking with her eyes.
" I'm kinda full from… oh, what the heck. Yes, please, I want a popcorn!" Joyce comes over to her, almost giggling.
Faith grins, and gets two popcorns and two soft drinks, and they enter the theater itself.
Joyce stops, almost gaping.
The auditorium is huge. It has row upon row of seats, divided by two aisles running parallel down to the screen itself. The seats are actually covered in a velvet like material, clearly worn but still serviceable. And there's a balcony, something she hasn't seen in movie theaters in a very long time. Again, the ceiling is vaulted with carved moldings. Instead of ordinary house lights, a series of chandeliers hung , spaced just right to throw enough light to fill the auditorium. On the walls themselves are painted scenes of various subjects.
" Goodness, Faith. This is wonderful, " Joyce feels like a hick from the sticks, gaping at the pretty buildings.
" It's the oldest movie theater in South Boston. It used to be an actual legitimate theater, but it was converted early in the century for movies. Aint it a hoot?" She pulls Joyce along, and turns, pointing to the balcony. " Up there, over on the left, is probably the best make-out spot in the area. I've had a few ' friends' up there, necking and making out like mad." She turns to Joyce, a wicked smile on her face. " So, whatcha say, Joyce, wanna sit up there and see if I really have Roman hands and Russian fingers?" She sticks her tongue just between her teeth.
God, she's so naughty and cute at the same time! Joyce thinks, looking at her. Ok, Joyce, hold the hormones in check.
" I think we better sit down here in the fuddy section," Joyce says, waving to the seats in front of them.
" Fuddy is only a state of mind, Joyce. Not a place, " Faith winks, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the row.
They find seats, and get settled in. Faith slips her arm around Joyce, and Joyce, although very aware of it, doesn't comment.
" Hope you like old movies," Faith says, casually.
" I beg your pardon?"
" Well, this place is really kind of an classics theater. It only shows old movies from the thirties through the fifties. Didn't you catch the bill on the marquee as we walked in?"
" No, I wasn't really paying too much attention." Joyce answers.
Oh, is that so? And just what was on your mind, Joyce Summers? Hmmm? Faith grins secretly to herself.
" So, what's playing?" Joyce continues.
" To Catch a Thief" Faith grins, popping some popcorn in her mouth.
" Oh, my! I haven't seen that since … oh dear, forever!" Joyce smiles, " Cary Grant, Grace Kelly…"
" Grace Kelly. Now, there's one hot woman, " Faith sighs. She waves her hand, as if cooling herself. " Damned Prince Rainier! What's he got that I aint got? Except a dick and say hundreds of millions of dollars!"
" Faith, you're terrible. She was married to him long before you were even a thought in your parent's head."
" Don't matter. Doesn't stop me from drooling over her a little!" Faith chuckles.
" You really like old movies?"
" Oh yeah, love 'em. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like modern movies too. But there's nothing like the old movies, black and white or color. They just had a style and well… grace… that they can't do anymore, know what I mean?"
" I really think you have to get over this obsession with Grace Kelly, " Joyce teases," but yeah, I know what you mean. They're terribly romantic, and sometimes silly, but they're so fun! Me, I always admired Katherine Hepburn."
" Really?" Faith looks at her, " Why?"
" Oh well, she was always so independent. And she knew exactly what she wanted, and went after it til she got with it. And yes, she wasn't like a sexpot like Marilyn Monroe, or a beauty like 'your' Grace , but she had classic looks. I mean, she was pretty when she was young, but she really became beautiful when she got older. Know what I mean?"
If Joyce had been looking at Faith, she would've seen the utter love shining in her eyes.
" Oh yeah, " Faith says softly, " I think I get it." She just looks at Joyce for a moment, drinking her in.
" So, c'mon, piggy. Are you gonna share any of that popcorn or what?"
Faith blushes slightly, and hands the popcorn over to Joyce. She clears her throat.
" So, you see? I knew there was a reason I liked you, " Faith says, " Not only do you have great taste in art, but you like old movies and have great taste in women, too." Faith leans back as the lights start to go down.
Joyce looks over at Faith, and for a moment, sees the softness of her face, and the way her lips are slightly parted and seem wet. She feels this incredible urge to kiss Faith. God, she's so … ok, casual, remember? Breaking this off at the end of the date. Remember? There's a silence. Well? Do you REMEMBER? Joyce sighs internally. Yes, I remember. Now, shut UP!
Joyce turns to the screen just as the Warner Bros Logo flashes across the screen, with the Looney Toons cast hanging off it. The Theme, " Merry Melodies" starts to play.
" Cartoons? You didn't tell me there'd be cartoons!" Joyce is like a kid. Faith smiles, seeing her eyes shining the reflected light in the dark. Joyce reaches over, and pats her knee. " This is sooo great!" She sits back.
Faith's eyes flick briefly over at Joyce, and a tiny little smile tugs at her lips. No, you're so great, Joyce. She sits back to enjoy the movie.
Two hours later the two women emerge from the theater. Joyce is sniffling a little, and reaches for a handkerchief out of her purse.
" I'm sorry. I didn't know it'd affect you like that, or…" Faith is apologizing profusely, thinking Joyce is upset.
" Oh, no, silly. IT was wonderful," Joyce dabs the kerchief to her eyes." That was great. It was just so romantic. I kind of tear up some. And of course, when the fireworks go off and they kiss… oh, my" Joyce sighs happily. " That was sooo much fun!" Joyce exclaims.
" Well, yeah. Kissing Grace Kelly. Where's the bad there?" Faith teases, waving her hand like she's cooling herself. " Wow. That lucky dog, Grant. Those lips. Weren't they just… so kissable?"
" You're such a tease, you" Joyce jostles her playfully." You just like pretty girls."
" Well, yeah," Faith grins, " but Grace is way beyond ' pretty'. She's gorgeous."
" Oh, I think you just like cute blondes. I best keep you away from my daughter."
" Oh? You have a cute blond daughter, eh?" Faith arches her brow. " you trying to fix us up?"
" You're terrible! Buffy's still in high school… and still interested in boys, last time I checked."
" That could change, " Faith says, sticking out her tongue and licking her lips playfully. " Just let me talk to her for awhile!"
" You're evil, and a cradle robber, to boot!" Joyce slaps her arm playfully, " first you seduce that poor model of yours, and now you're trying for my daughter! Who's next, huh?"
Well, if you'd pay attention to those anvils I keep dropping…
" Don't worry, you're little girl is safe, ok?" Faith throws up her hands in surrender." I won't touch her." Not making any promises about mom, however!
" Though, I swear sometimes, the guys that girl of mine dates? I'd rather see her with someone like you."
" Ok, now I'm confused. You want me to seduce your daughter?"
" No, of course not. I just wish there were some nice responsible guys she'd meet, instead of the lunkheads she's always picking."
" So, you think I'm nice and responsible huh?" Faith gives her a look.
" What's wrong with that?" Joyce asks." You take care of yourself, you treat things seriously… well, sometimes; you're respectful, honest, saving…"
" Oh for god's sake, you're making me sound like a girl scout!" Faith starts laughing. " I'm the opposite of a girl scout, Joyce, Trust me. I'm the girl you don't bring home for the folks to meet."
" Maybe, once," Joyce says, " but I'm beginning to believe you're turning that around."
" Oh, you do, do you?" Faith gets an evil look on her face. She grabs Joyce's arm, and starts dragging her along.
" Hey… HEY!" Joyce says, starting to giggle. " Where're you taking me?"
" Someplace, " Faith says, enigmatically. " Girl scout, my butt." She mutters.
She hurries Joyce along, and then turns suddenly down another street.
TBC.
Change of seasons, Part 3
1
" 83 Charing Cross Way, " Joyce tells the cabbie as she enters the cab.
Joyce watches the scenery go by as the cab makes it's way to Faith's address. But her mind is a million miles away.
She's feeling guilty.
She should be in New York. That's the agenda. She planned on being there already.
Instead, she called her Aunt, and told her that she was going to be delayed in Boston. There was an art auction at the end of the week she didn't want to miss. And then she'd be going to New York after. Could she keep Buffy and Dawn an extra week?
She lied. She hates lying. Yet, she lied as glibly as Hank all those times when he told her he was working late. Or had a business conference out of town.
Ok, so I'm not perfect. I want to spend some more time with Faith. We're having fun. Geeze, I've been wife and mom and business woman for the last 20 years. Can't remember when I had a real vacation. Had some real fun. What's the harm?
What about Faith? What is she doing, spending all her time with you? Doesn’t she have friends or family or a life? Why is a girl half your age hanging out with you, Joyce? Unless she's thinking there's more here than there is.
That's stupid. I told her upfront, this is just fun. Nothing more. She knows that.
Right, and feelings are so easily kept in little boxes, all safe and clean and tidy.
I'm not her mom. I'm not responsible for her. She's an adult.
She's almost Buffy's age. What if Buffy came home with someone twice her age? Would you think that?
She's a lot more mature than Buffy. She knows the score.
Bullshit. And you're lying about what you're feeling too. She wants more, and you want more. Be honest, at least with yourself. Ok?
No, that's not true. It's just fun, that's all we're doing here. Having some fun. When I leave for New York, it's done. She knows that. I know that too.
Right. Nice, Joyce. Play with her, then throw her away. Disposable friend. And if you break her heart?
I told her, it's all just casual. I didn't say or imply anything else.
You kissed her.
Just a friendly kiss. It meant nothing. A thank you kiss for a nice time. Nothing more than that.
And if she thought it was more?
Not my fault!
Right. And what happens if you find after you leave, you wanted more? What happens if your heart breaks?
Not going to happen. Can't happen. I have a family and responsibilities. That's all there is to it. This is just now, and when I leave it's over.
So cold, Joyce. So very cold.
Joyce looks out, trying to distract herself from her inner conflict.
She sees a South Boston in transition. While there are still too many examples of the 'reputed' neighborhood, with it's dilapidated storefronts and narrow row houses, Joyce can see that the area has come alive, making changes befitting an alive and vibrant community.
The area they turn into, for instance, shows the touch of a neighborhood that cares. The row houses have seen renovations recently, with fresh paint and repairs to the exteriors. The lawns, though tiny, are neat and well groomed. There's evidence of a renewal project ongoing, with trees and flowers and green areas being added to the cement and brickwork.
The streets are neat, and kept clean of debris. It shows the people living here take pride in their surroundings.
" First time in South Boston, ma'am?"
" Pretty much, yes," Joyce looks around like a tourist, " wasn't sure what to expect."
" Ah, yes, Southie has a bit of a reputation. We're working to change that, " the cabbie says. " My names Farley, by the way, and I live not too far from here."
" Joyce Summers. Nice to meet you Farley." Joyce smiles. "Everything looks so clean."
" AH, well, this is a nice neighborhood with working class folk. Not like some parts, where they all run wild. Nice Irish Catholic folk here. We like to keep it nice." He pulls the cab over a curb fronting what looks for all the world like a village green. " We're here."
" I'm sorry?" She looks out at the square. " I thought this would be a residence." She looks confused.
" Ah, no this is the square for Charing Cross, ma'am. They've closed off the residential streets to automobile traffic. Makes it safer for the kids, don't you know?"
" Oh, I see, " Joyce smiles. " So, where is Charing Cross way, then?"
" Oh, it's not far from here. Just follow the sidewalk around the green. Do you see the Chapel over there, on the left?"
" Yes, I do."
" Once you get there, you'll see a road. That's Hampton Lane. Just follow that down, bearing to the left. Charing Cross is the third street down. You can't miss it."
" Thank you," Joyce says, getting out of the cab. She pays him, giving him a good tip. Farley smiles broadly.
" Thank you, Joyce," he nods, handing her a card." If you be needing a ride later, you give that number a call. I'll make sure you make it back to your hotel ok."
" Thanks again, Farley," Joyce says, and the cab departs.
Joyce makes her way about the green, following the path the Chapel. She notes that the business and houses here look particularly well kept, and while there is nothing ' new' here, everything has a sense of cleanliness and order. This appeals to her. I was a little worried, meeting her down in her neighborhood. I can see I was a little foolish.
She comes to the chapel, and notes a plaque stating the church is 150 years old, one of the first in the area. She smiles, loving the feel of the place, and the atmosphere of being in a bit of history. History in California means if it's over 20 years, it's a classic, and over 40, a relic. She stands a moment, just taking it in. Or dawdling.
She briefly wonders if maybe she hasn't made a mistake. She's still conflicted on where this is going, and thinks it might be better if she just found a phone and called to have Farley pick her back up and go back to the hotel. End this now, before it gets too bad. Too serious.
She turns, looking around, debating with herself.
I can't just not show up. That's rude and cowardly. I'll do this, and end it at the end of the date. Tell her it's been fun, but I've got to get to New York, and back home.
Uh-huh.
I will.
There's silence from the ' other side'.
What?
You're not going to end it. You're going to go on, and someone's going to get hurt. Probably Faith, possibly you, maybe the both of you. And you know that, and I'm tired of trying to get you to do the right thing, because you'll say anything and do what you want, anyway. You should leave now, cut it quick, and cleanly, and let her go. But you're not going to. And it's going to be a big fat mess. Nice work, Joyce!
Be quiet! I don't want to hear it anymore.
You're not going to.
" Hey, can I help you, ma'am?" An older gentleman, out for a walk, stops by Joyce.
" I'm sorry?" Joyce says, coming out of her reverie. " Oh, no. I'm just looking for Charing Cross way. The cabbie said it was around here somewhere."
" You're very close. It's just down this street here, " the man points down the street. " Just walk down three blocks. That's Charing Cross Way. What address, if I can ask?"
" 83 Charing Cross way."
" Ah, ok, when you get to Charing Cross, make a right then. It'll be on your right hand side. You can't miss it."
" Thank you," Joyce says, as the man touches his hat and continues on his way.
A few minutes later, Joyce reaches Charing Cross way, and as the man directed, turns right and continues down the street. She reaches 83, and turning, goes up the stoop.
Joyce reaches Faith's door, and knocks. She waits for awhile, and then knocks again. Her brow furrows. She looks at her watch, and confirms the time. She knocks a third time.
" Faith? Are you in there? It's Joyce." She knocks again
Did she forget about our date?
Joyce can't believe how much it hurts, all of a sudden.
Not so much fun when it's you, huh, Joyce?
Shut up!
Frowning, she starts down the stoop, and hitting the street, starts back towards Hampton Lane.
I hope she's all right. So strange, she seemed so up for the date.
A voice, pleasant with an Irish lilt, interrupts her thoughts and stops her progress.
"Hello there!" A pleasant looking woman, a little older than Joyce comes running down the stoop of the Row house next to Faith's. " Are you Joyce, by chance?"
" Yes, that's me, " Joyce agrees.
" Ah, yes, you're just as Faith described you. Hi, I'm Patty Malloy, Faith's neighbor. She said you'd be coming by."
Joyce meets Patty on the street. She offers Patty her hand.
" Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Malloy, " Joyce says, noticing the ring on Patty's left hand.
" Ah, no. That's Miss Malloy, actually. Used to be Mrs. O'Hearne, before my Sean died. Had the cancer, you know."
" Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible," Joyce sympathizes.
" Ah, well," Patty sighs, " Loved the big galoot dearly, but he had a head made of rock. Smoked too many cigarettes, he did. I tried to get him to quit, but he always said smoking was he one thing he could do well, without the police getting after him," Patty laughs. " He was a character, was Sean O'Hearne." She smiles nostalgically. " but he was a good provider. We've been living off the pension his company had for him. I do some cleaning and sewing as side work, to bring in some extra money." Patty shakes her head, and laughs. " Will you listen to me go on! Sean always said I was the gabby one. I guess he was right!"
" Oh, that's just fine," Joyce laughs along with her.
Patty is just one of those people. She makes you feel like you've known her all her life, even if you've just met her.
" I take it you're a friend of Faith's?" Joyce asks, continuing.
" Oh yes. She asked me to look out for you. She's down at the community center again. That girl spends a lot of free time down there, doing this and that. I think she's taking some classes, too. Trying to improve herself, she says. I say, if you look like that girl, how much improving do you need?" Patty chuckles. " She's an ambitious one. Wants to go to college. Can you imagine?"
" She never mentioned that to me, " Joyce says, a little surprised. Well, there's a lot more to Faith than good times, I see.
" Oh yes. She was a little wild when she was younger, but these days, all the kids are that way. I swear, sometimes, I just don't know what my own will turn out like," Patty shakes her head. " They seem so aimless. Like they expect the world to be handed to them on a sliver platter when they're done with school. Kids," She shrugs.
" I know what you mean. I have two daughters myself. I sometimes wonder about them."
" See, that's why you just got to love Faith. She's really trying to put her ' wild days' behind her, and make something of herself. She's something, that one. She's gonna do it to , you mark my words." Patty laughs again. " There I go, bending your ear right off. Anyway, I'm to tell you that Faith's at the community center, and she was wondering if you could meet her there?"
"Sure, thanks," Joyce looks around, confused. " Where is the community center, anyway?"
" Oh yeah, you don't know. Where's my mind?" Patty slaps her forehead with her palm. " It's really close. Look, did you come in through the green?"
" Yes."
" Ok, then, you must've seen the Catholic Chapel? Right?"
" Yes, it's very pretty."
" Oh yeah, old too. Been around for a long time. Me and Sean and the kids used to go all the time, " Patty says, nodding. " Ah, but after Sean passed away, I sort of lost interest. And now, with all the stuff going on with the church! It's terrible, terrible. Who would've thought priests could do such an awful thing."
" Yes, it's terrible. Those poor children, " Joyce nods.
They're quiet for a few moments.
" Ummm… so you were telling me how to get to the community center?"
" What? Oh my, I get so silly sometimes. Yes, of course. Right across the square from the Chapel is the community center. Large brick building. Can't miss it."
" It must be getting late. Do you think it's still open?"
" Hmmm. Oh, let me see, " Patty consults her watch. " It's 7:30 now. Sure, the center stays open til nine. You've got plenty of time," She smiles.
" Well, thank you again, Miss Malloy…"
" Oh, please, call me Patty. I feel so old when people get all formal on me."
" Well, Patty, it's been a pleasure to meet you," Joyce says.
" You too, Joyce. Don't be a stranger now. Drop by anytime, maybe for coffee and a talk," Patty smiles, going up her stoop.
Joyce waves, and starts down the block.
As Joyce turns the corner on Hampton Lane, she grins a little bit.
See? She's making something of herself. She's not looking to me for anything but a good time.
Sure, Joyce, just keep telling yourself that. Nice way to ease your conscience.
You’re a real nag, you know that?
Joyce hurries down the street.
2
Faith looks at the easel before her, frowning. She looks at the subject she's painting, then back at her painting on the easel.
Something's not right, but I can't figure what I'm doing wrong. She stares at the model, then back down at the painting. Mixing a color, daubing it on the easel, she moves back, still not satisfied.
Damn, something's off, but I can't quite tell what. She shrugs.
" How's it looking?" the model, a young girl about Faith's age, with long flowing black curls and wide blue eyes. " So, did you make me look hot?"
" Braden, you know you look 'hot', that's never been something you ever doubted."
" Yeah, but do I look hot in your picture? I want Jimmy to be droolin' over me, you know," Braden grins. " When he sees that, I want him aching for the real thing, you know?"
To demonstrate, she cups her breasts and lifts them. She sticks out her tongue, playfully.
" So what you think? Sexy?"
Faith looks at her and laughs. She looks at the nude study on the canvas, and smirks.
" Don't worry, Jimmy'll be wetting himself when I'm done here. Still a few things I need to fix, but it's comin' along just great."
" I wanna see!" Braden gets up from the couch where she's been reclining, and walks toward Faith.
" Get back there, Braden, or we're never going to get this done." Faith waves her back towards the lounger.
" Hey, I'm paying for this, Faith. I've got a right to see it, " Braden pouts. She stands there, naked, hands on hips.
And of course, she knows she's just cute as hell like that, Faith smirks, shaking her head.
" Don't you know? All the great artists don't show their work until it's completed."
" Well, excuse ME, Pabla Picasso!" Braden shakes her head.
" Well, be glad I'm not a cubist like Picasso. Or I'd probably have one of your boobs coming out your ear, and the other attached to your elbow."
" Huh? You didn’t!" Braden comes the rest of the way, and looks at the canvas. " Don't scare me like that!" She studies the painting of herself, and smiles. " Wow. You made me gorgeous. Screw Jimmy, maybe I'll just hang this on my wall for myself." She laughs.
" Ok, sneaky. You got your peek, now go back and get in your pose so I can work."
" C'mon, Faith, don't you think I'm pretty?" Braden pouts her lips, " You must; you made me pretty." She admires the canvas.
" Oh, you're just gorgeous, except for that swelled head of yours, " Faith growls," Now go back and let's get back to work."
" Oh, you're just being such a poop!" Braden walks back, and reclines on the lounge. " I thought all the great artists slept with their models." She giggles.
" Don't you got a date with Jimmy tonight?" Faith dismisses her flirting. She adds some strokes to the painting.
" Oh god, what time is it? I was supposed to meet him at 9:00 tonight!" Braden looks panicked.
" Relax. If it were nine, they'd boot us outta here. Now just lay back and let me do a little more…"
" Faith, are you in here?" A voice calls out from the doorway. A very familiar voice.
" J-Joyce?" Faith calls out. Oh, man! I forgot. She's supposed to meet me here! Crap! " Hey, Braden. Sessions over. Get up and get dressed."
" We're not done yet!" Braden protests, as Faith comes over carrying her robe.
" Faith, the girl downstairs said I could find you …."
Joyce walks in and seeing the nude girl on the couch, and Faith looking a little guilty, quickly turns around.
" Oh…my… sorry… I didn't mean to …" She blushes, and starts for the door.
" Joyce, wait!" Faith runs towards her.
" Faith? What's going on? Who's that woman? Where are you going?" Braden calls out after her. She starts to put on her robe.
" Joyce! Wait!" Faith catches her, and grabs her by the arm.
" No, that's … I… sorry, I didn't know … so embarrassed… look, sorry, I thought we had a date… guess I was mixed up… sorry…"
" Huh? Of course we got a date. What're you… oh my god! No, Joyce, no, it's nothing like…" Faith blocks her way. " Joyce, honest, nothing like that… look, come with me." She starts leading Joyce back into the studio.
" NO! I mean, no, that's ok, Faith. I… well, I'll call you or something, ok?" Joyce pulls away from Faith, trying to escape.
" Joyce, c'mon…." She keeps pulling her along, bringing her to the easel.
" Faith McKerrigan! Who is that woman?" Braden, in a robe now, stands halfway between the easel and the lounger. Her hands are back on her hips.
" Braden, please. She's a friend. " Faith makes the introductions. " Joyce, this is Braden. Braden, Joyce."
" Look, Faith, your … affairs are your business, " Joyce whispers to Faith. " I understand. We can get together tomorrow."
" Joyce, you really, really have it all wrong, " Faith points at the easel. " Look."
Joyce looks at the easel, and sees the painting in progress. She looks at Braden, and unconsciously sighs in relief. Then she looks at Faith, somewhat surprised.
" Now, Faith, don’t be coy with the lady, " Braden teases her. " You know all great artists sleep with their models."
Joyce picks up Braden's tone, and realizes she's teasing Faith. She plays along.
" Faith, are you having an affair with this young girl?" Joyce tries to put on a hurt voice, and keep from laughing.
Faith look like a deer caught in the headlights.
" Huh, what? No, for god's sake no! Braden… well, Braden is straight. She has a boyfriend, " Faith turns to Braden, and growls, " A boyfriend she's been complaining all night about meeting. Shouldn't you go do that, now?"
" Aw, Faithy- waithy, don't be that way," Braden winks at Joyce, " I mean, Jimmy's cute, but you know my heart is yours, baby."
" Faith, I'm shocked. How can you be so… cold," Joyce winks back at Braden." I mean it's obvious this girl is enamored with you, and you treat her like… well, like a model!" It's getting harder and harder to keep a straight face. Oh, my goodness, look at her. She's so panicked!" I guess I know when I've lost." Joyce's voice takes on a tragic quality.
Faith, thrown by Joyce's appearing here, isn't catching on. She looks more and more upset.
" Faith, baby, don't you love me no more?" Braden coos. " I'll drop Jimmy in a heartbeat, just say the word!" That might not be entirely just teasing on Braden's part.
" Faith, you dog. How can you lead this girl on? Lead me on? … oh, goodness, I can't do it anymore, look at her face," Joyce loses it, busting out laughing.
Braden takes one look at the panic and confusion written all over Faith's face, and joins Joyce in the laughter.
" Faith, you're so easy," Braden laughs, and moves to Joyce. " You must be the Joyce Faith has been talking about all afternoon. God, on and on and on…"
Joyce blushes a little.
" Braden? Keep the pie hole shut, ok?" Faith growls at her. " We're done for tonight."
" 'K, grouchy. Bye, Joyce, it was nice meeting you" Braden chuckles, and turning, walks to collect up her clothing. She grabs it, and walks out, heading to the bathroom to change.
Faith throws Braden a dirty look. If I didn't need the money… grrr.
Joyce, still somewhat surprised at Faith's abilities and that she's been talking about her to her friend … she's talking about me? To her friends? Oh, and don’t you just love it?… wanders over and studies the incomplete painting with a critical eye.
" Faith, you did this?" Joyce asks, drawing her attention away from Braden. Faith walks over, and seeing the way Joyce is studying the painting, feels suddenly a little nervous with a side of shy.
" Uhhh… yeah, " she says softly, at Joyce's elbow. Oh god, she hates it. I suck. She's a gallery owner. She'd know. I suck big time!
" Have you ever had any technical training? In drawing or perspective or proportion?" Joyce inquires, still studying the painting.
" No," Faiths says, a little edgily. " I mean, not all of us have like college education or nothing. Can’t afford to go to like a school…"
Joyce looks up, and looks at Faith, smiling. " I'm not being critical, Faith. This is quite good, even though it's not done. You have a nice eye, a good sense of design and form. Yes, sure, some of your perspective is a little off, and proportions are a little… strange, but it's really very nice," Joyce says, nodding. " I'd sell it, if I had it. Well, if it were complete."
Faith could only think of one thing that could make her happier than what Joyce just said. As it is, she almost feels like purring.
" Really?" Faith asks, " I thought it… I don't know, something's off." Faith does a little fishing.
" Well, artists often see something that's hard to put on the medium," Joyce is well aware what Faith is doing. She hasn't been running a gallery and dealing with artists for nothing. "Don't worry, you'll figure it out."
" Ah, it's really nothing anyway. Just do it to help with the rent and all." Faith says, waving her hand.
" What?"
" Oh, yeah. That place I live in, kinda pricey. I do this stuff for some of the neighborhood girls. It kind of helps buys stuff I can't budget on my salary, you know?"
" You've been doing this for awhile, then?"
" Oh yeah. Shoot, been drawing… heck, I can't remember when I started drawing. Just liked to do it. Helped me figure stuff out, you know what I mean? I mean, I had all this stuff going on when I was growing up." Faith moves away, feeling a little nervous. She's not used to sharing." I was a little… ok, a lot crazy growing up. I had these feelings, and didn't know how to deal with them. I didn’t really get it, and I acted out. I felt better when I was sketching or stuff. I felt I could put all the chaos in my head and heart down on paper, you know? I couldn't like write it out, didn't know the words. But I could draw it. Some of those sketches of mine? Really scary."
" So, when did you figure it out," Joyce asks, softly. " that you… well, were different?"
" You mean, when did I figure out I was a lesbian?" Faith chuckles at Joyce's discomfort. " It's ok, I'm not ashamed of what I am, Joyce. It's me, you know? I dunno, really. Ok, that's a lie. I fell hard for one of my friends. And well, she didn't see things the same way. It got kinda nasty, and she started calling me names. So, I kinda asked around what it meant, and I got lots of cold stares and looks, but Paulie… you remember, that jackass I introduced you to, " Faith was still feeling the sting and embarrassment of that meeting, " he sort of explained things to me. Then he asked me point blank if I liked girls… that way… and I shrugged and kind of admitted it."
She sighs, feeling a little anger. " He told me not to let on, to hide it. Southie? Not know for it's gay tolerance, if you catch my meaning. I know he was trying to protect me, but I was lying about what I was. I got really angry, inside, having to pretend to be like everybody else. That's not me. I started getting into some deep shit. Bad shit. Shit, I don't talk about," She stops the questions before they can start. " I pulled myself out before it got too bad, but it's only cuz I had the drawing and stuff. I kept me from going nuts." She looks at Joyce, her face neutral. " took awhile, and a lot of reading and stuff, and sneaking into Boston proper to find a Gay-Lesbian group, to accept what I am. I'm not like flying rainbow flags and stuff, or shouting it from the rooftops, but I'm not hiding it anymore, either. But that took some time. Not easy to be different when you're a kid, you know?"
Joyce feels a strong urge to gather the young woman in her arms, and cuddle her, trying to comfort her. She resists the urge, however, fearing it might be misconstrued. Instead she nods at the painting.
" So, when did you start working in oils?" Joyce asks, trying to change the subject.
" Oh that!" Faith laughs, " well, I was still just doing my drawing, and my girlfriend at the time, Maureen, she started teasing me. Said that ' real artists' did paintings. So, I said ' oh yeah?' and she said "oh yeah' and so I said 'ok, so what do I paint ?' and she said, 'well me of course, silly' so I got this wicked idea, and I said, ' ok, great. But you gotta pose nude' and she got all of a sudden shy. I mean, this girl was wild in bed, but she was shy about posing nude, can you get it? She made excuses and tried to back out, but I had her. So, I borrowed some stuff, and well, this was back when I lived on 6th street, I painted her in my apartment, cuz I didn't know if I could get away with it in well, like a public place like the community center… anyway, I painted her, and she saw it and got all like happy-happy and was so jazzed cuz, well, let's say I made some improvements and she asked,' hey is that how you see me?' and I said ' yeah' and she got all crazy and fucked my brains out that night. My first 'paid' commission," Faith laughs.
Joyce, imagining the scene, blushes just a little.
" All right. That might be more information than I really needed, " She says, her neck getting very warm.
" Well, you asked, didn't ya?" Faith is loving this. ." Anyway, after she dumped me, I kept the painting. Some of my friends saw it, and they wanted to be painted ' au natural' too… so… I kinda make some money on the side doing it now." Faith takes a deep breath. " whew."
" I really think you have talent, Faith," She stares at the canvas. For some reason, it gives her one of those low down tickles." Ummm… have you thought about going to school? Learning more technique?"
" Oh yeah, I guess I'll just enroll in some fancy art school, huh?" Faith sounds bitter. " Sorry, but some of us don't got the money for that kinda crap. Some of us are just making ends meet."
" There are scholarships, Faith. Grants for artists. Have you…"
" Don't pay the bills, Joyce. Don't get it done." She turns away, tired of talking about it. " Maybe we should just get outta here, you know? I kinda want to change into something not covered by paint before we go out."
" Ok, Faith," Joyce says, quietly. She comes over to the younger woman, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
" Just forget it, Joyce. It’s not a big deal. I just do this to make some cash," Faith waves her hand, then looks at Joyce, smiling. " Anyway, I got a classy lady I gotta take to dinner and a movie. So what say?" She winks.
" I say, let's go."
3
Joyce walked into the movie theater, and was overcome with a wave of nostalgia.
She hadn't been in a movie theater like this one in a long time. Not since she'd been Faith's age, or even younger.
It was an old theater, nothing like the modern mall theaters with multiple screens, narrow auditoriums hardly wider than the screen, and sound systems guaranteed to make you deaf. This was a movie palace.
Oh sure, it'd seen better days. Some of the tile was cracking, and it desperately needed paint. But the lobby was huge, with vaulted ceilings and carved moldings and an old fashioned snack counter with real oak counters and oh, my is that…
" Is that popcorn. I mean," Joyce takes in the scent wafting through the air," Fresh popped popcorn. Not that stuff they buy pre popped in bags and reheat?"
"Oh, it's fresh. Really good. That's one of the pluses of this joint, " Faith says, walking to the counter." The popcorn is the best. That , and they got good movies." She raises a brow, asking with her eyes.
" I'm kinda full from… oh, what the heck. Yes, please, I want a popcorn!" Joyce comes over to her, almost giggling.
Faith grins, and gets two popcorns and two soft drinks, and they enter the theater itself.
Joyce stops, almost gaping.
The auditorium is huge. It has row upon row of seats, divided by two aisles running parallel down to the screen itself. The seats are actually covered in a velvet like material, clearly worn but still serviceable. And there's a balcony, something she hasn't seen in movie theaters in a very long time. Again, the ceiling is vaulted with carved moldings. Instead of ordinary house lights, a series of chandeliers hung , spaced just right to throw enough light to fill the auditorium. On the walls themselves are painted scenes of various subjects.
" Goodness, Faith. This is wonderful, " Joyce feels like a hick from the sticks, gaping at the pretty buildings.
" It's the oldest movie theater in South Boston. It used to be an actual legitimate theater, but it was converted early in the century for movies. Aint it a hoot?" She pulls Joyce along, and turns, pointing to the balcony. " Up there, over on the left, is probably the best make-out spot in the area. I've had a few ' friends' up there, necking and making out like mad." She turns to Joyce, a wicked smile on her face. " So, whatcha say, Joyce, wanna sit up there and see if I really have Roman hands and Russian fingers?" She sticks her tongue just between her teeth.
God, she's so naughty and cute at the same time! Joyce thinks, looking at her. Ok, Joyce, hold the hormones in check.
" I think we better sit down here in the fuddy section," Joyce says, waving to the seats in front of them.
" Fuddy is only a state of mind, Joyce. Not a place, " Faith winks, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the row.
They find seats, and get settled in. Faith slips her arm around Joyce, and Joyce, although very aware of it, doesn't comment.
" Hope you like old movies," Faith says, casually.
" I beg your pardon?"
" Well, this place is really kind of an classics theater. It only shows old movies from the thirties through the fifties. Didn't you catch the bill on the marquee as we walked in?"
" No, I wasn't really paying too much attention." Joyce answers.
Oh, is that so? And just what was on your mind, Joyce Summers? Hmmm? Faith grins secretly to herself.
" So, what's playing?" Joyce continues.
" To Catch a Thief" Faith grins, popping some popcorn in her mouth.
" Oh, my! I haven't seen that since … oh dear, forever!" Joyce smiles, " Cary Grant, Grace Kelly…"
" Grace Kelly. Now, there's one hot woman, " Faith sighs. She waves her hand, as if cooling herself. " Damned Prince Rainier! What's he got that I aint got? Except a dick and say hundreds of millions of dollars!"
" Faith, you're terrible. She was married to him long before you were even a thought in your parent's head."
" Don't matter. Doesn't stop me from drooling over her a little!" Faith chuckles.
" You really like old movies?"
" Oh yeah, love 'em. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like modern movies too. But there's nothing like the old movies, black and white or color. They just had a style and well… grace… that they can't do anymore, know what I mean?"
" I really think you have to get over this obsession with Grace Kelly, " Joyce teases," but yeah, I know what you mean. They're terribly romantic, and sometimes silly, but they're so fun! Me, I always admired Katherine Hepburn."
" Really?" Faith looks at her, " Why?"
" Oh well, she was always so independent. And she knew exactly what she wanted, and went after it til she got with it. And yes, she wasn't like a sexpot like Marilyn Monroe, or a beauty like 'your' Grace , but she had classic looks. I mean, she was pretty when she was young, but she really became beautiful when she got older. Know what I mean?"
If Joyce had been looking at Faith, she would've seen the utter love shining in her eyes.
" Oh yeah, " Faith says softly, " I think I get it." She just looks at Joyce for a moment, drinking her in.
" So, c'mon, piggy. Are you gonna share any of that popcorn or what?"
Faith blushes slightly, and hands the popcorn over to Joyce. She clears her throat.
" So, you see? I knew there was a reason I liked you, " Faith says, " Not only do you have great taste in art, but you like old movies and have great taste in women, too." Faith leans back as the lights start to go down.
Joyce looks over at Faith, and for a moment, sees the softness of her face, and the way her lips are slightly parted and seem wet. She feels this incredible urge to kiss Faith. God, she's so … ok, casual, remember? Breaking this off at the end of the date. Remember? There's a silence. Well? Do you REMEMBER? Joyce sighs internally. Yes, I remember. Now, shut UP!
Joyce turns to the screen just as the Warner Bros Logo flashes across the screen, with the Looney Toons cast hanging off it. The Theme, " Merry Melodies" starts to play.
" Cartoons? You didn't tell me there'd be cartoons!" Joyce is like a kid. Faith smiles, seeing her eyes shining the reflected light in the dark. Joyce reaches over, and pats her knee. " This is sooo great!" She sits back.
Faith's eyes flick briefly over at Joyce, and a tiny little smile tugs at her lips. No, you're so great, Joyce. She sits back to enjoy the movie.
Two hours later the two women emerge from the theater. Joyce is sniffling a little, and reaches for a handkerchief out of her purse.
" I'm sorry. I didn't know it'd affect you like that, or…" Faith is apologizing profusely, thinking Joyce is upset.
" Oh, no, silly. IT was wonderful," Joyce dabs the kerchief to her eyes." That was great. It was just so romantic. I kind of tear up some. And of course, when the fireworks go off and they kiss… oh, my" Joyce sighs happily. " That was sooo much fun!" Joyce exclaims.
" Well, yeah. Kissing Grace Kelly. Where's the bad there?" Faith teases, waving her hand like she's cooling herself. " Wow. That lucky dog, Grant. Those lips. Weren't they just… so kissable?"
" You're such a tease, you" Joyce jostles her playfully." You just like pretty girls."
" Well, yeah," Faith grins, " but Grace is way beyond ' pretty'. She's gorgeous."
" Oh, I think you just like cute blondes. I best keep you away from my daughter."
" Oh? You have a cute blond daughter, eh?" Faith arches her brow. " you trying to fix us up?"
" You're terrible! Buffy's still in high school… and still interested in boys, last time I checked."
" That could change, " Faith says, sticking out her tongue and licking her lips playfully. " Just let me talk to her for awhile!"
" You're evil, and a cradle robber, to boot!" Joyce slaps her arm playfully, " first you seduce that poor model of yours, and now you're trying for my daughter! Who's next, huh?"
Well, if you'd pay attention to those anvils I keep dropping…
" Don't worry, you're little girl is safe, ok?" Faith throws up her hands in surrender." I won't touch her." Not making any promises about mom, however!
" Though, I swear sometimes, the guys that girl of mine dates? I'd rather see her with someone like you."
" Ok, now I'm confused. You want me to seduce your daughter?"
" No, of course not. I just wish there were some nice responsible guys she'd meet, instead of the lunkheads she's always picking."
" So, you think I'm nice and responsible huh?" Faith gives her a look.
" What's wrong with that?" Joyce asks." You take care of yourself, you treat things seriously… well, sometimes; you're respectful, honest, saving…"
" Oh for god's sake, you're making me sound like a girl scout!" Faith starts laughing. " I'm the opposite of a girl scout, Joyce, Trust me. I'm the girl you don't bring home for the folks to meet."
" Maybe, once," Joyce says, " but I'm beginning to believe you're turning that around."
" Oh, you do, do you?" Faith gets an evil look on her face. She grabs Joyce's arm, and starts dragging her along.
" Hey… HEY!" Joyce says, starting to giggle. " Where're you taking me?"
" Someplace, " Faith says, enigmatically. " Girl scout, my butt." She mutters.
She hurries Joyce along, and then turns suddenly down another street.
TBC.