Rum Raisin 5: Luck
Title: Luck
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 5 (son/daughter), malt ( shayna's birthday prompt).
Word Count: 1793
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes the best of things happen through the purest of luck, or, Joanna didn't even want to go to this party. Part I.
Notes: I have been waiting to write this story for ages.
Joanna was beginning to suspect that this reunion was not nearly as impromptu as Bonnie had told her it was. Not that she really knew how easy it was to book a DJ or get an open bar or whatever else Bonnie had done that she hadn't noticed yet-- it was more the sheer number of women here that had tipped her off.
Bonnie must have a mole in the alumnae office or something. Most of these women were much too young to have been in her class. Some of them probably hadn't even been born then.
Well. That might be an exaggeration. But, she thought, watching a girl who couldn't be over twenty-one wheedle a drink out of the bartender, not much of one.
"Having fun?" Bonnie chirped, materializing out of nowhere like any good hostess. She slid a plastic white chair out from under the table and perched on the edge.
"Lots," Joanna said, dryly. Although honestly, however much she disliked crowds, it was a lot better than listening to a bunch of doctors talk about surgical procedures over lunch. How Hugh could enjoy that...
"Good!" Bonnie beamed at her. "I'm so pleased you could come, Jo, really. I never understood why you moved all the way out to California."
Joanna shrugged one shoulder, and toyed idly with the empty glass in front of her. "I love my family very much," she said, by way of explanation. "But I love them more at a distance."
Bonnie nodded, looking rather like she understood. "That seems reasonable," she said. "I just missed you so much. I'm so glad you wrote."
Hugh had the conference, she hadn't wanted to stay behind, and she hadn't known anyone in New York except for Bonnie (well, and Nadia, but Nadia wasn't speaking to her again). She put the glass down. "Well, I am pleased to see you," she said. "It's been such a long time. I'm a little impressed at how many people you managed to get together on short notice."
"Oh, we planned this about six months ago," Bonnie said, and had the grace to look a little ashamed of herself. "But I knew you wouldn't come unless I told you it was only a few of us."
She'd been right. "I don't particularly enjoy large gatherings," Joanna said. "What is this, every Smith alumnae in New York?"
"Something like that," Bonnie said, back to bright, with a curious brittle undertone. "I didn't mean to discomfit you, Jo, but I did want you to come. Is that why you didn't invite me to your wedding?" She nodded at Joanna's left hand, and the ring she wore.
Joanna blinked-- was that why she was upset?-- then said, "I, um, I didn't invite anyone, actually."
Bonnie's eyebrows shot up. "No one?"
Well, apart from Hugh's best man and Deborah serving as maid of honor, but they both liked it better that way. "My husband doesn't have any family--" that he knew the whereabouts of, anyway-- "and my family was, um, not very happy with me at the time. So we went to City Hall and got married." She shrugged. "It seemed well enough."
"That's so sad," Bonnie said, eyes huge. "Well, you'll just have to throw a big party on your next anniversary, then. I can plan it for you!"
"Um," Joanna said, and was saved from having to make the thanks Bonnie obviously expected by the approach of a lovely blonde girl.
"Gina!" Bonnie jumped up and waved at her. "Hello!"
"Bonnie." The two exchanged air kisses. "What a nice party you've put together!"
Bonnie dimpled. "Thank you, dear. Have you met Joanna? She was my roommate in school."
The blonde girl arched an eyebrow, and looked at her, blue eyes flicking over her and taking in every detail, from hijab to shoes and back again. "No, I don't think so," she said, then smiled at Joanna. "Hello, I'm Gina Caravecchio."
"We both do some work for the alumnae association sometimes," Bonnie added, betraying the guest list's source.
"I'm pleased to meet you," Joanna said, and shook Gina's offered hand.
"Likewise," Gina said, and sat down in Bonnie's vacated seat. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a while? I've been dancing and my feet hurt."
Joanna did mind, actually, but there was hardly any point in saying so. "Of course not."
"Well," Bonnie said, brightly, "I've got to go mingle, but I'll be back. We'll talk about your party later, Jo." She blew kisses to both Joanna and Gina, and bounced off. Joanna watched her go with mixed amusement and mild despair.
"Not thrilled with the party idea?" Gina asked, dryly, and took a sip of the drink she held.
Joanna started, and then blushed-- was she that transparent? "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you overheard that."
Gina shrugged, looking not the least bit ashamed of herself. "I might have been eavesdropping a bit," she said, "but you looked like you wanted rescuing."
Well, Joanna could hardly refute that. "I don't really like large groups of people, or parties," she said, answering the outright question in lieu of the implied one. "Neither does my husband. I know Bonnie means well, honestly, but..."
Gina laughed. "Don't worry. I know how you feel."
"Oh?" Gina did not seem the introverted type to her, but maybe she knew someone.
"My best friend's the same way," Gina said, confirming Joanna's impression. "She's less shy than she used to be, but it still takes a lot of effort for her to be social. Some people just don't like crowds."
Joanna nodded, relieved. "Precisely. I don't like crowds. I'd really prefer to just stay in with my husband."
"Staying in does have certain benefits," Gina agreed, in a tone too neutral for her not to have noticed the salacious implications. Joanna blushed again. Which she must have noticed, because she changed the subject. "So is he here? Your husband, I mean."
"No, he's at a conference," Joanna said. "He probably wouldn't have come if he wasn't, though. No interest."
Gina laughed again. "I hear that. My girlfriend told me she'd rather be skinned and dipped in salt." She took another drink, and a sideways glance at Joanna (gauging her reaction? Joanna kept a neutral expression with effort), before adding, "Of course, that was before she knew Olivia was performing. She still wouldn't come, though."
That name distracted Joanna entirely from whatever else she might have felt. "Olivia? Who's that?"
It wasn't the same girl, she told herself. It couldn't be. It was just that she was sensitive to that name, now.
"Best friend," Gina said, and relaxed. "We were roommates for the whole time she was at Smith. Her degree is in music and Bonnie needed some live entertainment, so she asked me to get Olivia to do something. Wasn't very hard, though. She loves to play."
"Play what?" Joanna asked.
"Piano," Gina said, "and about six other things," and another shiver rippled down her spine. Another coincidence. Wasn't it?
"So what did you study at Smith?" Gina added.
Joanna shook herself mentally, and said, "Oh, um, liberal arts. I got my masters in library science about.... it must be ten years ago, now." Had it really been that long? She'd met Hugh about a year before she finished it, so... yes, yes it had. "What about you? What class are you?"
"English," Gina said. "Class of '07."
Not the right girl, then. Definitely not the right girl. Hugh's daughter would have graduated in '08. Different girls. Joanna closed her eyes briefly-- disappointed or relieved, she wasn't sure-- then returned her attention to the conversation.
But the odd shaking feeling didn't go away. Through her talk with Gina, through introductions to other alumnae wandering by, an unease remained rippling up and down her spine. Something big was going to happen, she was sure of it. When the DJ turned off the music and announced the Smith College Choir and alumnae guests, and Gina turned towards the little stage with an air of pleasant anticipation, she forced a little smile of interest and looked at the stage.
And then the unease became a solid brick in her stomach and her throat clogged up so she could hardly breathe, and all she could see was the brunette girl with the brilliant smile, Hugh's smile, who trotted up to the microphone and introduced herself as Olivia Marhenke.
--
"Joanna?" That was Gina, sounding worried; it was some time later, the singing had stopped, and her voice floated over a haze of background chatter that Joanna could not make out in the least. "Are you all right?"
"I..." She couldn't think. What to say? What could she possibly say? I think I've just found my husband's missing daughter? I think I'm your best friend's stepmother? No. "I..."
"Gina!" That same bright, laughing voice. Its owner came bouncing up to Gina, curls flying, seized her hand and twirled herself around. "Gina, I rocked."
"You did!" Gina said, sounding as if being upbeat took effort. "You were awesome. Listen, Livvy, do you know if there's a doctor around or anything?"
"A doctor?" The voice turned worried and she sounded like Hugh, so much that it hurt Joanna deep in her bones to hear it. "What's the matter?"
She had to speak up. She hated hearing Hugh worry, even if it wasn't him, even if it was just this girl who spoke in his cadences and tones. But then there was nothing just about this girl, was there? "I'm fine," she managed, and lifted her head. "I'm sorry, I'm fine. I'm just a little..." Shocked? Flabbergasted? "...shaken."
The girl, Olivia, knelt beside her with a worried little frown on her forehead. Joanna could see shades of Hugh in every movement she made. "Are you sure? You're white as a sheet."
"I've seen a ghost," Joanna said, with perfect honesty, and began to laugh, a little shakily.
She should say something. She had to speak up. She'd helped Hugh, she thought, as much as she could, but there was still a gaping hole in his heart that this girl had left when she vanished. Why hadn't she come home? Did she not want to? Would Joanna make everything worse if she spoke up?
Olivia and Gina exchanged uncertain glances, but it was Gina who spoke. "Do you, um, want a glass of water or something?"
Joanna shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine, thank you." She thought of Hugh, a firefly in his hands, pain scraping his voice raw, and made her choice. "Olivia?"
The girl started, nervously. "Have we met?"
"Yes and no. Olivia," she said, and took a deep breath. "I think we need to talk."
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 5 (son/daughter), malt ( shayna's birthday prompt).
Word Count: 1793
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes the best of things happen through the purest of luck, or, Joanna didn't even want to go to this party. Part I.
Notes: I have been waiting to write this story for ages.
Joanna was beginning to suspect that this reunion was not nearly as impromptu as Bonnie had told her it was. Not that she really knew how easy it was to book a DJ or get an open bar or whatever else Bonnie had done that she hadn't noticed yet-- it was more the sheer number of women here that had tipped her off.
Bonnie must have a mole in the alumnae office or something. Most of these women were much too young to have been in her class. Some of them probably hadn't even been born then.
Well. That might be an exaggeration. But, she thought, watching a girl who couldn't be over twenty-one wheedle a drink out of the bartender, not much of one.
"Having fun?" Bonnie chirped, materializing out of nowhere like any good hostess. She slid a plastic white chair out from under the table and perched on the edge.
"Lots," Joanna said, dryly. Although honestly, however much she disliked crowds, it was a lot better than listening to a bunch of doctors talk about surgical procedures over lunch. How Hugh could enjoy that...
"Good!" Bonnie beamed at her. "I'm so pleased you could come, Jo, really. I never understood why you moved all the way out to California."
Joanna shrugged one shoulder, and toyed idly with the empty glass in front of her. "I love my family very much," she said, by way of explanation. "But I love them more at a distance."
Bonnie nodded, looking rather like she understood. "That seems reasonable," she said. "I just missed you so much. I'm so glad you wrote."
Hugh had the conference, she hadn't wanted to stay behind, and she hadn't known anyone in New York except for Bonnie (well, and Nadia, but Nadia wasn't speaking to her again). She put the glass down. "Well, I am pleased to see you," she said. "It's been such a long time. I'm a little impressed at how many people you managed to get together on short notice."
"Oh, we planned this about six months ago," Bonnie said, and had the grace to look a little ashamed of herself. "But I knew you wouldn't come unless I told you it was only a few of us."
She'd been right. "I don't particularly enjoy large gatherings," Joanna said. "What is this, every Smith alumnae in New York?"
"Something like that," Bonnie said, back to bright, with a curious brittle undertone. "I didn't mean to discomfit you, Jo, but I did want you to come. Is that why you didn't invite me to your wedding?" She nodded at Joanna's left hand, and the ring she wore.
Joanna blinked-- was that why she was upset?-- then said, "I, um, I didn't invite anyone, actually."
Bonnie's eyebrows shot up. "No one?"
Well, apart from Hugh's best man and Deborah serving as maid of honor, but they both liked it better that way. "My husband doesn't have any family--" that he knew the whereabouts of, anyway-- "and my family was, um, not very happy with me at the time. So we went to City Hall and got married." She shrugged. "It seemed well enough."
"That's so sad," Bonnie said, eyes huge. "Well, you'll just have to throw a big party on your next anniversary, then. I can plan it for you!"
"Um," Joanna said, and was saved from having to make the thanks Bonnie obviously expected by the approach of a lovely blonde girl.
"Gina!" Bonnie jumped up and waved at her. "Hello!"
"Bonnie." The two exchanged air kisses. "What a nice party you've put together!"
Bonnie dimpled. "Thank you, dear. Have you met Joanna? She was my roommate in school."
The blonde girl arched an eyebrow, and looked at her, blue eyes flicking over her and taking in every detail, from hijab to shoes and back again. "No, I don't think so," she said, then smiled at Joanna. "Hello, I'm Gina Caravecchio."
"We both do some work for the alumnae association sometimes," Bonnie added, betraying the guest list's source.
"I'm pleased to meet you," Joanna said, and shook Gina's offered hand.
"Likewise," Gina said, and sat down in Bonnie's vacated seat. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a while? I've been dancing and my feet hurt."
Joanna did mind, actually, but there was hardly any point in saying so. "Of course not."
"Well," Bonnie said, brightly, "I've got to go mingle, but I'll be back. We'll talk about your party later, Jo." She blew kisses to both Joanna and Gina, and bounced off. Joanna watched her go with mixed amusement and mild despair.
"Not thrilled with the party idea?" Gina asked, dryly, and took a sip of the drink she held.
Joanna started, and then blushed-- was she that transparent? "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you overheard that."
Gina shrugged, looking not the least bit ashamed of herself. "I might have been eavesdropping a bit," she said, "but you looked like you wanted rescuing."
Well, Joanna could hardly refute that. "I don't really like large groups of people, or parties," she said, answering the outright question in lieu of the implied one. "Neither does my husband. I know Bonnie means well, honestly, but..."
Gina laughed. "Don't worry. I know how you feel."
"Oh?" Gina did not seem the introverted type to her, but maybe she knew someone.
"My best friend's the same way," Gina said, confirming Joanna's impression. "She's less shy than she used to be, but it still takes a lot of effort for her to be social. Some people just don't like crowds."
Joanna nodded, relieved. "Precisely. I don't like crowds. I'd really prefer to just stay in with my husband."
"Staying in does have certain benefits," Gina agreed, in a tone too neutral for her not to have noticed the salacious implications. Joanna blushed again. Which she must have noticed, because she changed the subject. "So is he here? Your husband, I mean."
"No, he's at a conference," Joanna said. "He probably wouldn't have come if he wasn't, though. No interest."
Gina laughed again. "I hear that. My girlfriend told me she'd rather be skinned and dipped in salt." She took another drink, and a sideways glance at Joanna (gauging her reaction? Joanna kept a neutral expression with effort), before adding, "Of course, that was before she knew Olivia was performing. She still wouldn't come, though."
That name distracted Joanna entirely from whatever else she might have felt. "Olivia? Who's that?"
It wasn't the same girl, she told herself. It couldn't be. It was just that she was sensitive to that name, now.
"Best friend," Gina said, and relaxed. "We were roommates for the whole time she was at Smith. Her degree is in music and Bonnie needed some live entertainment, so she asked me to get Olivia to do something. Wasn't very hard, though. She loves to play."
"Play what?" Joanna asked.
"Piano," Gina said, "and about six other things," and another shiver rippled down her spine. Another coincidence. Wasn't it?
"So what did you study at Smith?" Gina added.
Joanna shook herself mentally, and said, "Oh, um, liberal arts. I got my masters in library science about.... it must be ten years ago, now." Had it really been that long? She'd met Hugh about a year before she finished it, so... yes, yes it had. "What about you? What class are you?"
"English," Gina said. "Class of '07."
Not the right girl, then. Definitely not the right girl. Hugh's daughter would have graduated in '08. Different girls. Joanna closed her eyes briefly-- disappointed or relieved, she wasn't sure-- then returned her attention to the conversation.
But the odd shaking feeling didn't go away. Through her talk with Gina, through introductions to other alumnae wandering by, an unease remained rippling up and down her spine. Something big was going to happen, she was sure of it. When the DJ turned off the music and announced the Smith College Choir and alumnae guests, and Gina turned towards the little stage with an air of pleasant anticipation, she forced a little smile of interest and looked at the stage.
And then the unease became a solid brick in her stomach and her throat clogged up so she could hardly breathe, and all she could see was the brunette girl with the brilliant smile, Hugh's smile, who trotted up to the microphone and introduced herself as Olivia Marhenke.
--
"Joanna?" That was Gina, sounding worried; it was some time later, the singing had stopped, and her voice floated over a haze of background chatter that Joanna could not make out in the least. "Are you all right?"
"I..." She couldn't think. What to say? What could she possibly say? I think I've just found my husband's missing daughter? I think I'm your best friend's stepmother? No. "I..."
"Gina!" That same bright, laughing voice. Its owner came bouncing up to Gina, curls flying, seized her hand and twirled herself around. "Gina, I rocked."
"You did!" Gina said, sounding as if being upbeat took effort. "You were awesome. Listen, Livvy, do you know if there's a doctor around or anything?"
"A doctor?" The voice turned worried and she sounded like Hugh, so much that it hurt Joanna deep in her bones to hear it. "What's the matter?"
She had to speak up. She hated hearing Hugh worry, even if it wasn't him, even if it was just this girl who spoke in his cadences and tones. But then there was nothing just about this girl, was there? "I'm fine," she managed, and lifted her head. "I'm sorry, I'm fine. I'm just a little..." Shocked? Flabbergasted? "...shaken."
The girl, Olivia, knelt beside her with a worried little frown on her forehead. Joanna could see shades of Hugh in every movement she made. "Are you sure? You're white as a sheet."
"I've seen a ghost," Joanna said, with perfect honesty, and began to laugh, a little shakily.
She should say something. She had to speak up. She'd helped Hugh, she thought, as much as she could, but there was still a gaping hole in his heart that this girl had left when she vanished. Why hadn't she come home? Did she not want to? Would Joanna make everything worse if she spoke up?
Olivia and Gina exchanged uncertain glances, but it was Gina who spoke. "Do you, um, want a glass of water or something?"
Joanna shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine, thank you." She thought of Hugh, a firefly in his hands, pain scraping his voice raw, and made her choice. "Olivia?"
The girl started, nervously. "Have we met?"
"Yes and no. Olivia," she said, and took a deep breath. "I think we need to talk."