Shay - Delphine AU | Part 25* (Rough Draft)
Could Shay and Delphine have been a thing in a different universe?
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*, 17*, 18*, 19, 20*, 21*, 22*, 23*, 24*, 25*
Delphine arrived early, as per her wont. Shay, whose wont was to wake up early but not necessarily be ready early, met Delphine waiting at her door as she hurried back from a morning grocery run. They greeted each other in hushed tones, like they might disturb neighbors sleeping in on a Saturday, and there was a softness to Delphine's small smile that Shay's mind couldn't help but note. Delphine offered to hold the bag as Shay wrangled with keys, but Shay waved her away.
Breakfast was not a fancy affair. It wasn't a meal Shay skipped, but it was one she kept light. She sliced fruit, offered granola and yogurt, and put out a plate of impulse-buy biscotti, but those items sat mostly neglected beside the prized caffeinated beverages. Watching Delphine cradle a mug of coffee--slow-drip to accommodate the miser's worth of beans Shay had bought, creamer as substitute for the lack of condensed milk--effortlessly constructed the image of Delphine with a cigarette dangling between her fingers, a projection that felt so stereotypically French and femme fatale that Shay had to smother a giggle.
Delphine shot her an inquisitive look.
Shay shook her head and fought off the smile. "Do I get a clue what's in store for today?"
Delphine's satisfaction manifested in a self-contained smile. "It is something probably overdue."
"Is there going to be actual activity involved?" Shay pressed, dissatisfied by the evasion.
"Perhaps," Delphine said brightly.
"Should I bring snacks?" Shay asked.
The suggestion brought out an amused smile. "Do you have snacks?"
Shay put aside a handful of fruit bars to stow in her bag. Delphine's smile stretched wide.
"Am I dressed appropriately?" Shay asked, archly, to deflect Delphine's bemusement and air her growing sense of exasperation.
"Yes," Delphine assured her with a quick glance's assessment of her casual ensemble. "Wear comfortable shoes."
"We're going to do a lot of . . . walking?" Shay hazarded.
"Perhaps."
Shay rolled her eyes, but she checked the concern to ask if Delphine could endure an overdrawn ordeal on her feet and made sure to put on her comfortable, padded boots. Her hats hung in waiting appeal.
"Are we going to be outside much?" Shay queried.
Delphine shook her head. "I don't expect so."
That final rebuttal resigned Shay to the inevitable blind submission to Delphine's intentions. WIth fruit bars in her purse, comfortable shoes on her feet, and no hat upon her head, Shay followed Delphine to the doctor's car, where the built-in navigation announced they were about thirty minutes from their destination. The announcement prompted a glance in her direction from Delphine, but Shay indulged Delphine's play at secrecy by pointedly ignoring the screen.
Delphine smiled and, as she did sometimes when she was in the driver's seat, switched the radio station from talk radio to an oldies music channel, the volume kept low. Shay hummed along to snatches of familiar songs. The sun filtered warmly through the windows and heat wafted from the vents against the encroachment of the outdoor chill, infusing a sleepy stupor. The ride in Delphine's car was liquid smoothness, the suspension providing a sensation of gliding, nothing like how the VW Bug transmitted every rut and bump up through the carriage.
"Are you feeling okay?" Delphine asked softly a few minutes into the drive.
Shay glanced over. "Is there a reason I wouldn't be?"
Delphine smiled to herself. "I wasn't sure how much you drank. Though I suspected perhaps not so much because your typing wasn't that affected."
Shay smirked. "That was the surefire indicator?"
"It's not a bad barometer," asserted Delphine.
"Maybe autocorrect was really good," Shay countered.
"Was it?" Delphine asked.
Shay smiled. "It worked really hard last night. It always does."
Delphine smiled, but the effort faltered at the corners. "You didn't have a bad day yesterday?"
Shay's mind required an extra second to track Delphine's logic, but she got there. "No, yesterday was fine. Cosima and I got dinner and there was sake involved."
"Sake?" Delphine repeated. "You went to eat Japanese?"
"Cosima wanted sushi."
Delphine nodded.
Shay felt she should say something else, that Delphine's advice to be careful still lingered at the back of her mind, that it would have been nice if Delphine could have joined them, that Cosima seemed troubled, that she wondered why Cosima had gone home early but Delphine evidently hadn't, that Shay wished she and Delphine could have discussed Cosima and related topics, that she was unsure if mentioning she spent time with Cosima made Delphine uncomfortable, that she felt uncomfortable at the thought that Delphine might feel uncomfortable.
But the window of opportunity closed. Music filled the trough of their silence and obscured the seabed of unspoken thoughts. The remainder of the drive continued peaceful and smooth.
*
Shay stared through the passenger window as Delphine got out of the car. Soon after the driver's side door closed with a percussive thud that propelled Shay to follow suit, but upon exiting Shay stood rooted beside the vehicle, gaze transfixed.
Circling around the car to join her, Delphine smiled at her. From cars in the stalls around them disembarked fellow visitors, groups mostly composed of a mix of adults and children, some of whom dashed recklessly ahead as their larger counterparts called sternly and fruitlessly after them.
"I feel like," Shay began slowly, "I'm back in elementary school and this is a field trip and you're the class chaperone."
"Is it okay?" Delphine asked, an edge of apprehension in her voice.
Before them sprawled the Ontario Science Centre.
Shay suffered an irrepressible giggle. She hadn't speculated on what the weekend might entail, but she knew she wouldn't have guessed this. "Yes. I've never been here before, so it's definitely going to be an adventure. I feel like I need to hold your hand to be kept from wandering off."
There was no hesitation. With an emerging smile Delphine held out her hand. Shay regarded the extended offer. A chuckle escaped on an exhalation and, without further ado, Shay stepped close and slipped her hand into Delphine's.
*
The ticket counter effected a separation--and a brief disagreement about ticket purchases that Delphine was allowed to win--but Shay had gained insights during the journey across the parking lot. Delphine displayed no compunctions or self-consciousness about holding Shay's hand in broad daylight and plain view. (In a loose, casual grip, her fingers initially cold to the touch.) They'd attracted some discreet attention, both cursory and pointed, in one case a furtive study from a young teenager with a mixed-age group that was likely her family. Shay had smiled at her. She'd looked away quickly.
If Delphine noticed any of this, she'd shown no indication, not subject to the hypersensitivity that seized Shay, not plagued by the sense of self-incrimination that harkened from insecurities past or the sense of self-incrimination stemming from a conflicted present. Delphine kept a sedate pace beside Shay, neither leading nor trailing, eager, but in a mild manner.
Though Shay had cast her as chaperone, Delphine's eyes lit up as they wandered into the museum. It wasn't a child's giddy excitement, displayed by the numerous tykes rushing to occupy interactive exhibits, but an aura akin to pride. This was what she endeavored to show Shay: the accomplishments of humanity's curiosity, ingenuity, deduction, and craft--the legacy Delphine sought to carry on.
They paid respects to the human body first, familiar ground to both of them, if in slightly different capacities. Delphine proved the type to read all displayed text--in English or French, whichever proved less crowded and accessible (and not because of preference)--and provided summaries and highlights to save Shay the trouble of having to do the same, her tone while imparting this knowledge part reflective, part evaluative, part professorial.
It was easy to see the academic in Delphine and this softer side of it, rather than as her opponent or interrogator, roused the fondness fostered through such small windows of a woman Shay had first understood as remote and intimidatingly beautiful. It was the cumulative effect of a series of slow, gradual revelations, from those first conventional discussions of a week's physical trials and pains, to the hesitant references to her work, to the longer dinner and happy hour discussions.
To today.
At an interactive station called the Aging Machine, Shay dithered in front of the camera. She turned to Delphine with a suggestive smile.
"Fine," Delphine said without being asked and positioned herself in front of the camera.
"I wouldn't want to risk it stealing my soul," Shay said airily.
Delphine rolled her eyes. "I have never suggested you believe anything such as that."
Shay gave her a sly look that suggested otherwise. Delphine ignored her and gave the eye of the camera a close-lipped smile.
"Of course you'd age well," Shay remarked at the resulting manipulated projection.
"You say that like you wish that I won't," Delphine chided. She regarded the prospect of her lined, sunken features. "This does suppose that I don't gain twenty kilos in the interim."
Shay grinned. "Are you planning to gain weight?"
"You never know," Delphine muttered. "Anything can happen."
What didn't happen was the dance floor filled with jumping, squealing kids producing energy to make the panels light up.
"I cannot compete with that," Delphine said.
"What about a different type of dance floor?" Shay wondered.
"You mean like a discotheque?" Delphine's head canted. "It's been a long time." She cast a sideways look at Shay. "You?"
Shay laughed and didn't answer the question. Delphine's eyebrows rose in silent comment, but she didn't press. Since they were passing by and it was unoccupied, Shay diverted attention to the ultrasound simulator. She nudged the transducer about. "You know, if the goal of having a fun weekend outing is to keep out thoughts of work, I feel like we're not avoiding your line of work very well."
"Being with you is avoiding work," Delphine said without hesitation. "But I wouldn't consider exploring science to be work, either." She smiled down at Shay's aimless handiwork with the transducer. "Do you think I perform ultrasounds all day?"
"No, but I get the feeling it's part of your job somewhere."
Delphine chuckled lowly. "Good guess."
*
It wasn't difficult to get Delphine to play. That was the outing's most delightful discovery. When Shay leaned over during the static electricity demonstration and whispered, "I dare you to volunteer," Delphine gave her a glancing smirk, as if to scoff at the low bar of her challenge, and raised her hand high. (She was passed over in favor of a little girl and her father, the little girl's abundance of fine, medium-length hair perfect to make stand on end.) In the science arcade they saw children struggling with a massive pendulum and Delphine teased that it probably weighed as much as Shay--"Not too heavy." "As if you're one to talk!"--but then, holding Shay's hand for balance, Delphine clambered sacrificially onto the oversized lever to offer Shay an opportunity to determine her weight--as long as Shay could finagle through the math of the accompanying formula.
"I'm not going to stand here all day," Delphine declared.
"It's good for your core strength," Shay pointed out idly.
"Are you a fitness trainer now, as well?" Delphine wondered.
"No, but I've been through boot camp."
That made Delphine reconsider her from her higher ground vantage point.
"What?" Shay prompted.
"Did you lose weight after the military?" Delphine wondered, tone caught between frank curiosity and solicitous caution.
"Yeah," Shay answered with straightforward honesty. "Muscle mass, mostly. I don't lift much and I'm over endless crunches and push ups."
"That is not difficult to understand."
Bearing her diminished load of muscle mass, she and Delphine strained against the matching poles of a magnet together for no other reason than that they could--and laughed at themselves among the confusion of passersby. At the sound waves station, Shay sang a few strains of "A Hard Day's Night," which had played on the radio on the way over, and sent the wires in the display trembling. When she trailed off, Delphine surprised her by launching into a slow tempo French song. They exchanged smiles. It was easy to forget Delphine's foreigner status, in large part due to her fluency in English, which obscured her momentary stumbles or even the moments she requested clarifications on their cultural differences. Because, although she was undeniably French, Delphine never brought attention upon her own cultural specificities, Shay realized. If Shay had talked about being from the prairies, Delphine had presented herself as a city girl, as if there were a universal urban experience.
Clever.
Unsurprisingly.
Also unsurprising (if only to Shay): When Shay sat down to test her reaction time in a driving simulator--accelerate without reserve, brake on cue--her result earned a dubious look from Delphine. Shay vacated the seat and challenged her to have a go.
Shay's time turned out better.
(They chose, out of unspoken mutual respect and utmost chivalry, not to draw attention to the fact, but the look in Delphine's eyes confirmed every suspicion Shay had of Delphine's competitiveness. A second's hesitation preceded Delphine surrendering the seat that belied a probable desire for a second round.)
"Perhaps I should have eaten more this morning," Delphine idly remarked as they walked away.
Smothering a smile, Shay retrieved a fruit bar from the depths of her bag and offered it to Delphine.
Delphine eyed the olive branch. "Want to split it?"
They split it. Victory spread sweetly upon Shay's tongue.
Delphine slipped the wrapper into her pocket, though she swept the area surreptitiously for a wastebin. With her preoccupied, it was Shay that steered them toward the electronic keyboard. Two small children gleefully banged out notes and discordant chords and as she and Delphine neared, their guardians ushered them off and onward. Shay detoured and, considering the black and white array, played a few scales across the keys.
Delphine raised an eyebrow. "You play?"
"My brothers and I all got lessons," Shay said, tapping out a right-hand rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle." "My mom played, so we had a small upright piano at home to practice on, but she sent us to learn from a retired schoolteacher. For a while, we were given lessons altogether, all at once. One of my brothers is actually really good. He kept up with it and started taking lessons again as an adult. Do you play?"
Delphine smiled. "Do I look like I do?"
"It wouldn't surprise me at all if you played three instruments from different families."
Delphine laughed. "You give me too much credit."
"Maybe," Shay agreed in part. "You could tell me you figure skate and I'd probably accept it after a second."
"Figure skate? On the ice?" Delphine guffawed. "That would have to be a thing of the past now. I'm not sure my hip could handle any falls on ice."
"Good point."
Shay struck a tritone on the keyboard, making Delphine wince, and they moved. One plaque on colors earned a small hum of interest from Delphine.
"Something you didn't know?" gasped Shay playfully.
"Physics is not my discipline, chérie," Delphine retorted absentmindedly, stunning Shay into silence. The rebuke didn't mute Shay; the endearment did. Delphine had never used it before--and if it were a slip, Shay couldn't tell by Delphine's subsequent behavior.
(Which signified it hardly meant a thing.)
They stole away from physics and ensconced themselves in nature. Delphine adopted a contemplative air as they moved from display to display. Shay looked at her inquisitively.
"This is closer to Cosima's discipline," Delphine said.
"You're saying Cosima is into creepy crawlers?"
Delphine smiled. "I can't speak to that. But evolutionary development focuses on tracing and tracking evolution across species, finding these points of kinship and derivation, but also trying to determine what influences developments."
"I feel like I'm flaunting my ignorance here," Shay said, "but you and Cosima studied really different things, right? Or no?"
"Different," Delphine agreed, "but there is considerable overlap. We move in specializations of biology and biochemistry. It can be that the deeper you move into specialization, the more esoteric your work looks like from the outside."
Shay nodded slowly. "So it's not unusual that you work together on the same projects."
The question took a second to percolate but Delphine nodded.
"It's just unusual that she doesn't look like a scientist," Shay added facetiously, smiling.
Delphine shook her head. "You never said whether or not I look like a scientist."
"Well," Shay drawled, "do you?"
"You don't think I look like a scientist?" Delphine asked, sharper than Shay expected. "If I don't look like a scientist, then what do I look like?"
"A model?" Shay hazarded.
Delphine scoffed.
"You can't seriously tell me that people aren't . . . stunned by how beautiful you are," Shay insisted.
Delphine shook her head. "I can think of plenty of reasons someone might have reaction to me. Sometimes it's because I'm a woman and I sound like I know what I'm talking about or I dared to speak at all. Sometimes it's because I'm foreign and my accent sets me apart."
"Uh huh," Shay followed along drily, "and you never once thought that it was your looks that garnered a reaction?"
The lines of Delphine's face appeared to harden. "I have, yes. Does that make me arrogant? Do I feel any less tired if someone chooses to use that against me to delegitimize or undermine my work?" She met Shay's eyes. "On the other hand, if I chose to make my appearance work for me rather than against me, does that make me less of a scientist? I'm penalized if I try to downplay my appearance. I'm penalized if I'm passive. I'm penalized if I appear like I'm emphasizing my appearance. I'm penalized if I'm seen as making myself attractive. There's no winning. You should know."
There was genuine anger and exasperation in Delphine's response that made Shay defensive in an almost apologetic way. "In my case, people mostly perceive me as small and harmless. You thought I was a hippie. I don't know if I can parlay that into an advantage. As a massage therapist, I look nice, I guess, like it's okay to let me touch you? But clients doubt my capabilities. It's not as bad as the military. The sergeants used any perceived weakness, any insecurity, any trait they could turn negative to try to wear us down--and we were expected to take it because we were nobodies and nothing until they built us up. It definitely wasn't a place I relished looking 'cute.'"
Silence padded Delphine's response. "That's not what I meant."
Shay exhaled the jangle of nerves that had blossomed and jittered throughout her muscles into a self-deprecating smile. "I was only trying to say that you're beautiful, Delphine. Really beautiful. Honestly."
Delphine mirrored her expression. "That's what I was trying to point out about you."
*
They both saw the exhibit but by unvoiced accord steered around it in favor of the neighboring exhibits in the building. Process of elimination gradually rendered it the last possible stop before moving on.
The Question of Truth.
They could have ignored it. The hall name instilled wariness. Subdued caution made Delphine's footsteps land heavy and Shay fell quiet. Months ago Delphine might have relished the opportunity to confront alternative, (borderline) anti-scientific modes of thinking, to flaunt the unsound basis before Shay, and press and needle, but the prospect felt daunting in the moment. In the back of Delphine's mind lingered their earlier conversation, the strength of her defensiveness about her appearance, pestered by thoughts of Aldous, of Greg, of knowing very well the effectiveness of allure, the hook baited with enticement, how all these elements played into the expectations and duties of a monitor. Shay's words had cleaved too close.
Inside, the exhibit seemed to sense Delphine's diffidence, if an exhibit could be sentient. One section scrutinized the theory and practice of eugenics. Delphine lent it no attention, as if it were below her notice, while Shay gave it a passing perusal, oblivious to connections that could have been drawn to Delphine and the DYAD and the ensuing arguments between herself and Cosima.
The acupuncture module had the most success arresting Shay's attention. She tapped the buttons--representative of pressure points on a model of the human body--and smiled to see the meridians of the body light up. She pressed her fingertips to one half of the decal--the yin or the yang, Delphine wasn't sure--and then they drifted toward the other exhibits together, without comment.
When they left the room and headed leisurely toward the planetarium--their potential last stop, lest they wanted to brave the outdoors and the trails, sans hats, Shay lamented--Shay said, without looking at Delphine, "I know you think some of my beliefs are silly."
Delphine refrained from responding.
"It's why I don't really bring up any of that around you," Shay continued. "I'd love it if you picked up yoga or meditation, of course, but I try those on you because I know that yoga and meditation offer health benefits that even you would have a hard time refuting." Shay crossed her arms. "But those weren't the reasons I started doing them. For me, it was all about balance." Shay inhaled and exhaled sharply. "I was in a really bad way at one point. Like, really bad. And," Shay risked a brief sideways glance, "you know, I don't discredit or discount conventional medicine. I know it can help and I'm prepared if I have to take that option again. Antidepressants got me through the worst of my patches. But taking them was also like riding a rollercoaster. I hated all the trial and error cocktails I had to try to find a prescription and a dose that worked. I was given different drugs in combination, so I was up, I was down, I had no appetite, I was overeating--I hated it. On top of that, it all happened at a time hen I wasn't settled. I was bouncing around, practically couch surfing, so I had no regular doctor to write prescriptions and keeping up with them got hard."
Shay licked her lips. "It wasn't a new problem, though. My mom, she thought it was the military. 'You should have never joined,' she told me. But the military didn't make me that way. The way I felt, the way I thought, it was all there before, I was just really good at ignoring it or pretending it wasn't a problem." Shay breathed in sharply and exhaled in a gust. "But after the military, when that didn't pan out for me, when it wasn't the secure path that a part of me had hoped it would turn out to be, all those feelings became louder. Overwhelming. I needed a better solution.
"The meditation came first. Or maybe accepting my sexuality did. Or maybe they happened together . . . That is, they kinda happened with the same person. I met her, she was into meditation, one thing led to another . . ." Shay smiled, shrugged. "With meditation I discovered this pocket of time where I started to feel centered and with her I started to realize I could live parts of my life openly and that I could be okay with that. Not afraid. Not nervous. Not guilty.
"My diet changed because of her diet, too. The no-meat thing wasn't even an issue since she was a vegetarian herself. Honestly, you might think I'm a hippie, but I have nothing on her. I mean, like, she could be . . . extreme. But I was eating better, more consciously, and with a lot more enjoyment. Just . . . in general, I was enjoying things again. I started feeling like I had the energy and the desire to do things again. Try new things, even. That's when the yoga happened."
Shay nodded to herself. "It's a whole system for me. One part buttresses another part--I eat well and consistently, I exercise, and I try to keep my head clear and positive--and when everything is working, it's like a . . . a wall. Or you know those houses on stilts that raise the foundation above a water line? These activities are like my stilts.
"I don't need other people to understand how it works to know that it works for me. And I know it's not something that can work for everyone--the parts individually or the system altogether--but once I got to a better place, I thought maybe it wouldn't be bad to try to help other people looking for the same thing."
Shay blew out a breath. "It's a good system, but it's not a cure. But there aren't cures in this case. I still have my moments. But I've learned how to recognize an onset and how to get through the choppy waters. I know there's an other side."
Shay folded her arms. "You know how the other day you talked about your former patient and how her boyfriend broke up with her? You said maybe it had to do with her illness. What goes on with me is not--it's not the same thing. But. Yeah. I've seen it. I get that it's hard. Not everyone likes my choice in how I deal with my problems. I've had people tell me maybe I'm running away from facing the issue head on. They want a fast solution, a permanent one, something that seems reliable and consistent. I know it comes from a good place--they want what's best for me. For them--significant others, especially--I think it's hard to feel like their presence alone doesn't have an effect. They feel like what they offer, what they give--their time, their attention--should make someone happy--and despite their efforts it doesn't seem to work. For reasons they can't understand, the person who says they love them isn't automatically happy or reassured or buoyed by their presence. How else can you feel except . . . helpless? esentful. Resented. People don't bargain for that type of emotional labor." Shay shook her head, but a little self-deprecating smile claimed her lips. "I guess love doesn't entirely trump chemistry."
Delphine moved quietly, absorbing everything Shay had just divulged. They'd carried on without slowing throughout the entirety of her speech.
After a period of deep contemplation, Delphine said, "Love is chemistry."
"I knew you were going to say that!" Shay exclaimed.
Delphine smiled opaquely but then slipped into solicitous. "I can't say I understand."
"I wouldn't wish that on you or anyone," Shay said frankly.
"I'm sorry for making you feel that you can't discuss certain topics with me," Delphine said. "I wish I could say I don't understand that, either, but I do."
Shay shrugged. "You're not interested. You're not the only one. I know how that goes."
Delphine struggled to make sense of what she wanted to express. "But you know that I value your thoughts and opinions?"
Shay smiled to herself, amused, cynical.
Delphine frowned to herself. "I wouldn't come to you if I didn't."
Shay shot her a silent, unreadable look.
"Shay," entreated Delphine.
"You might not want to hear this opinion," Shay said.
"What?"
Shay sighed almost imperceptibly. "I'm your sounding board. Which is fine."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm not changing your opinions with mine. You're doing that. By yourself. When you come to talk to me, it's . . . a confirmation process. You're reaffirming conclusions you've already come to on your own."
"That's not true."
"It's not a bad thing, Delphine."
They crossed into the hall dedicated to space exploration and astronomy, bombarded with the raised voices of stimulated children, but proceeded in their own bubble of contention.
"But it's not true," Delphine asserted. "I listen to what you say. Disagreeing on some points doesn't mean I don't respect you."
Shay shook her head. "I didn't say that you did." She stopped and pivoted to regard Delphine squarely. "Whatever you're struggling with--whenever--I'm glad to be there."
Delphine frowned. "Why are you resisting the idea that you influence me?"
Shay shook her head slowly. "I'm not resisting, I'm acknowledging that we come from completely different perspectives--and that's okay. I'm not friends with you so I can change you. I'm friends with you because I enjoy your company and we get along and you bring me to the science museum I wish we'd had on the prairies growing up."
"But I'm not the same person I was when we met," Delphine said and knew it was true.
"You would have gotten here without me," Shay said, smiling feebly. "Whatever's been nudging you to ask questions, it's not me."
"But would I have made it through intact?" Delphine countered. "You've kept me above the waters." Her voice softened. "It is not for you to determine or quantify what you've done for me."
Shay held her gaze, but glanced away before speaking. "You mean there's no interactive activity station and tried-and-true formula for that?"
Delphine smiled. "Thank you."
Shay raised her eyes, a question in their blue depths.
"For telling me," Delphine clarified.
Shay's expression tightened subtly into hard, uncertain lines. Delphine held out a hand.
"Shall we continue?" Delphine asked.
Shay hesitated, but eventually her hand tucked into Delphine's. Her grip was ginger, like it might slip from Delphine's fingers at any moment.
*
They ended their day at the Ontario Science Centre in the planetarium, sitting quietly side by side as first the fanciful imaginations of long-dead visionaries took abstract picture in the constellations currently discernible in the sky, then were displayed images of what the ancients couldn't see, planets and stars captured by high-powered lenses, as they were and as present-day imaginations supposed, echoing the efforts of their forebears trying to make sense of the unknown. In the hush of the dark, Delphine felt the presence of those around her like the stars in their incalculable galaxies, numerous and distant and theoretically ballooning out farther, even Shay beside her, their earlier conversation like the vacuum spanning immeasurable, insurmountable lengths.
When they shuffled out of the planetarium with the flow of the queue, Shay scanned Delphine's expression. "What are you thinking?"
"We're made of the substances from stars," Delphine said, "since elements that occur naturally originate from fusion processes in them."
Shay shoved her hands into her pockets and smiled. "'All this universe, to the farthest stars and beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.'"
Delphine cocked her head. "What is that?"
"Rilke. Since you sounded poetic just now."
"You are casting me in many professions today. Figure skater, model, poet."
Shay grinned. "Did you ever want to be something other than a doctor and a scientist?"
Delphine shook her head slowly. "I did not care what I wanted to be for what seemed like a long time--you know, when you're young, everything happens so much more quickly."
"Yes, because we're so old," Shay said drily.
"Pardon. You're certainly still young."
Shay stuck out her tongue.
Delphine smiled. "I was very good at mathematics, chemistry, and biology, and medicine . . . seemed like a natural fit. Many suggested it. They said I had the aptitude and the discipline. It was a goal. I'm good at goals. I make everything else fit into them and, somehow, new ones keep appearing."
"That sounds nice," Shay remarked idly. "You said you make everything fit into your goals, but has there been anything you've had to put aside?"
Delphine's head jerked in a gesture analogous to a shrug.
"That many regrets, huh?" Shay teased.
Then Delphine remembered.
Shay, looking at her, grew somber. "Sorry. I didn't mean to dredge up any bad memories."
Delphine stopped before a model of the solar system, the planets locked in their orbits around the sun. Shay drifted uncertainly to a standstill at her side. Delphine indicated the model with her chin.
"All mass," she said, "exerts a gravitational force. The more mass, the greater the force. Earth orbits the sun, the moon orbits the earth, the tides rise and fall with the force of the moon."
Shay watched her warily. It was a basic science lesson, one Delphine hoped her friend had been exposed to already.
"The system looks stable to us because it has been functioning for an amount of time difficult for us to grasp and changes on a scale that massive are undetectable to the naked eye. But did you know the moon is moving slowly away from Earth?"
Shay shook her head.
"In the case of Mars, one of its moons is getting closer. One day it will either break up or collide with the planet."
"Did you take a short detour during your studies to contemplate a career as an astronomer?" Shay asked.
Delphine smiled tightly. "I had an ex who liked to tell me facts like that."
The tidbit of information stunned Shay a little.
"He did not see himself fitting into my goals," Delphine said.
"Oh," Shay said quietly. "I'm sor--"
Delphine shook her head. "I didn't mind. It wouldn't have worked. I respected that. But people are like celestial bodies, aren't they? We all have our orbits. We get caught up within the pull of others . . . revolve around one another . . . grow closer . . . drift apart . . ." Delphine fought off a frown. "Destroy each other."
Shay searched her eyes, gauging Delphine's mood, trying to determine the appropriate response. Delphine dredged the options from their past experiences: Humor? Sympathy? Attentive and permissive silence?
Delphine smiled because she recognized the effort and that it was exuded on her behalf. "Unlike planets, we can . . . choose to let go."
Shay nodded in consideration. "Though, like planets, sometimes we're drawn and driven by forces we can't control--like our own nature and impulses."
But nature wasn't on Delphine's mind. She thought of monitors, of oblivious but ambitious classmates, of the web that was the DYAD casting out its invisible threads to ensnare all within reach.
Could Delphine let Shay go? For her safety? Did it matter now, with Cosima in the picture? Or was Delphine using Cosima's presence and meddling as an excuse to rationalize her own reluctance?
Since when was she reluctant to let anyone go?
Delphine swallowed.
"What you told me earlier," Delphine managed, "doesn't change my opinion or how I think." Shay shifted and stood up straighter. "You know that I worry. About you."
Shay smiled stiffly, mouth bordering on the contours of a laugh. "I know."
"I don't worry about many people," Delphine said quietly.
Shay's smile faltered. She studied Delphine silently for a time. Then her mouth curved, soft and tender. "Yes, you do." She reached out and squeezed Delphine's forearm. "You worry all the time. I know you do. I've watched worrying about someone else eat you up for months now."
A sheen of moisture filled the corners of Delphine's eyes. She worried a crack might split her composure.
Not like that, she wanted to tell Shay. Not like this.
But Delphine wasn't sure she had the clarity or the words to explain what she meant.
What she felt.
Delphine covered Shay's hand.
Shay smiled. "Hungry? I'm feeling kinda Greek today. I'm in the mood for some dolmades."
Delphine cleared her throat. "You don't want to take a look at the outdoor exhibits?"
"Let's come back to see those some other time." Shay slipped her hand out from beneath Delphine's. "Like in the spring or the summer. I'll make sure to bring a hat next time. And I'd like to go to the planetarium again. I really liked that."
"Okay," Delphine said, regathering her composure behind a little smile. "Some other time."
There would be other times.
Delphine wanted there to be other times.
*
Returning to the car after lunch, stomachs accommodating falafel, hummus, pita, dolmades, and tzatziki, Delphine's footsteps seemed heavy.
"Is your hip acting up?" Shay asked.
Delphine shook her head. "No."
"Good," Shay said, "because I was going to offer to drive but I don't know how you'd feel about that."
A smile flitted across Delphine's lips. She glanced up at the sky. "Did you have fun today?"
"A ton of fun," Shay said. "I feel like today we learned the valuable lesson that karaoke needs to happen."
Delphine snickered to herself. "That might be an option if there's a piano concert in exchange."
Shay grinned. "Sure, one Davydov piano recital--I'll tell my brother to get practicing. He's great, honestly. You'll love it."
Delphine smiled, but there was a melancholy undercast to her mood.
"I had a lot of fun today," Shay assured her, sincerely. "Your choice went beyond expectations. Not that that has anything to do with anything. I enjoy when we spend time together."
"So do I," Delphine said. But the sentiment of her tone came across closer to resigned.
"Don't try to sound too excited," Shay teased. "I might figure out how you really feel."
Delphine didn't smile or laugh, but subjected Shay to a long, wordless regard. At last, Delphine asked, "Is there anything else you'd like to do today? Anywhere you'd like to go?"
"Sure, Anthropologie might be having a sale and if not there's always the bookstore," Shay said flippantly.
Delphine opened the driver's side door. "Let's go."
"I was kidding," Shay protested, climbing into the car after Delphine.
"Maybe caffeine first," Delphine said, hitting the ignition button and blithely ignoring Shay's dissent.
"Well," Shay said slowly, securing her seatbelt, "if you're up to it . . ."
Delphine smiled. "Is Tim Horton's okay?"
Left with no more straws of pretense, no plans for the remainder of the day, no clue as to the winds of Delphine's sudden whimsy, Shay surrendered.
"Whatever you feel like, Delphine."
What Delphine felt, Shay couldn't help but suspect, was a reluctance to return so soon to solitude. But maybe Shay was projecting. Maybe she was the one unready to end the day, to reflect on what had transpired and maybe regret having said this and maybe anticipate having to hear that. Maybe Delphine knew what this day needed, a little more time to recalibrate, a little more time to assure one another everything was normal, everything was fine.
Nothing had changed.
Nothing would change.
//
Next
I'm not sure how I feel about that coda. I have a note in the draft asking myself if I want to keep it or scrap it. There are a number of things in this section where I wonder if the writing and presentation border on too obvious and blatant and thus the sentiment loses impact. This section has a lot of potential to be Trying Too Hard, but it's also a section I felt brought out a lot of elements that were beneath the surface. I don't know. When do I ever know????
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*, 17*, 18*, 19, 20*, 21*, 22*, 23*, 24*, 25*
Delphine arrived early, as per her wont. Shay, whose wont was to wake up early but not necessarily be ready early, met Delphine waiting at her door as she hurried back from a morning grocery run. They greeted each other in hushed tones, like they might disturb neighbors sleeping in on a Saturday, and there was a softness to Delphine's small smile that Shay's mind couldn't help but note. Delphine offered to hold the bag as Shay wrangled with keys, but Shay waved her away.
Breakfast was not a fancy affair. It wasn't a meal Shay skipped, but it was one she kept light. She sliced fruit, offered granola and yogurt, and put out a plate of impulse-buy biscotti, but those items sat mostly neglected beside the prized caffeinated beverages. Watching Delphine cradle a mug of coffee--slow-drip to accommodate the miser's worth of beans Shay had bought, creamer as substitute for the lack of condensed milk--effortlessly constructed the image of Delphine with a cigarette dangling between her fingers, a projection that felt so stereotypically French and femme fatale that Shay had to smother a giggle.
Delphine shot her an inquisitive look.
Shay shook her head and fought off the smile. "Do I get a clue what's in store for today?"
Delphine's satisfaction manifested in a self-contained smile. "It is something probably overdue."
"Is there going to be actual activity involved?" Shay pressed, dissatisfied by the evasion.
"Perhaps," Delphine said brightly.
"Should I bring snacks?" Shay asked.
The suggestion brought out an amused smile. "Do you have snacks?"
Shay put aside a handful of fruit bars to stow in her bag. Delphine's smile stretched wide.
"Am I dressed appropriately?" Shay asked, archly, to deflect Delphine's bemusement and air her growing sense of exasperation.
"Yes," Delphine assured her with a quick glance's assessment of her casual ensemble. "Wear comfortable shoes."
"We're going to do a lot of . . . walking?" Shay hazarded.
"Perhaps."
Shay rolled her eyes, but she checked the concern to ask if Delphine could endure an overdrawn ordeal on her feet and made sure to put on her comfortable, padded boots. Her hats hung in waiting appeal.
"Are we going to be outside much?" Shay queried.
Delphine shook her head. "I don't expect so."
That final rebuttal resigned Shay to the inevitable blind submission to Delphine's intentions. WIth fruit bars in her purse, comfortable shoes on her feet, and no hat upon her head, Shay followed Delphine to the doctor's car, where the built-in navigation announced they were about thirty minutes from their destination. The announcement prompted a glance in her direction from Delphine, but Shay indulged Delphine's play at secrecy by pointedly ignoring the screen.
Delphine smiled and, as she did sometimes when she was in the driver's seat, switched the radio station from talk radio to an oldies music channel, the volume kept low. Shay hummed along to snatches of familiar songs. The sun filtered warmly through the windows and heat wafted from the vents against the encroachment of the outdoor chill, infusing a sleepy stupor. The ride in Delphine's car was liquid smoothness, the suspension providing a sensation of gliding, nothing like how the VW Bug transmitted every rut and bump up through the carriage.
"Are you feeling okay?" Delphine asked softly a few minutes into the drive.
Shay glanced over. "Is there a reason I wouldn't be?"
Delphine smiled to herself. "I wasn't sure how much you drank. Though I suspected perhaps not so much because your typing wasn't that affected."
Shay smirked. "That was the surefire indicator?"
"It's not a bad barometer," asserted Delphine.
"Maybe autocorrect was really good," Shay countered.
"Was it?" Delphine asked.
Shay smiled. "It worked really hard last night. It always does."
Delphine smiled, but the effort faltered at the corners. "You didn't have a bad day yesterday?"
Shay's mind required an extra second to track Delphine's logic, but she got there. "No, yesterday was fine. Cosima and I got dinner and there was sake involved."
"Sake?" Delphine repeated. "You went to eat Japanese?"
"Cosima wanted sushi."
Delphine nodded.
Shay felt she should say something else, that Delphine's advice to be careful still lingered at the back of her mind, that it would have been nice if Delphine could have joined them, that Cosima seemed troubled, that she wondered why Cosima had gone home early but Delphine evidently hadn't, that Shay wished she and Delphine could have discussed Cosima and related topics, that she was unsure if mentioning she spent time with Cosima made Delphine uncomfortable, that she felt uncomfortable at the thought that Delphine might feel uncomfortable.
But the window of opportunity closed. Music filled the trough of their silence and obscured the seabed of unspoken thoughts. The remainder of the drive continued peaceful and smooth.
*
Shay stared through the passenger window as Delphine got out of the car. Soon after the driver's side door closed with a percussive thud that propelled Shay to follow suit, but upon exiting Shay stood rooted beside the vehicle, gaze transfixed.
Circling around the car to join her, Delphine smiled at her. From cars in the stalls around them disembarked fellow visitors, groups mostly composed of a mix of adults and children, some of whom dashed recklessly ahead as their larger counterparts called sternly and fruitlessly after them.
"I feel like," Shay began slowly, "I'm back in elementary school and this is a field trip and you're the class chaperone."
"Is it okay?" Delphine asked, an edge of apprehension in her voice.
Before them sprawled the Ontario Science Centre.
Shay suffered an irrepressible giggle. She hadn't speculated on what the weekend might entail, but she knew she wouldn't have guessed this. "Yes. I've never been here before, so it's definitely going to be an adventure. I feel like I need to hold your hand to be kept from wandering off."
There was no hesitation. With an emerging smile Delphine held out her hand. Shay regarded the extended offer. A chuckle escaped on an exhalation and, without further ado, Shay stepped close and slipped her hand into Delphine's.
*
The ticket counter effected a separation--and a brief disagreement about ticket purchases that Delphine was allowed to win--but Shay had gained insights during the journey across the parking lot. Delphine displayed no compunctions or self-consciousness about holding Shay's hand in broad daylight and plain view. (In a loose, casual grip, her fingers initially cold to the touch.) They'd attracted some discreet attention, both cursory and pointed, in one case a furtive study from a young teenager with a mixed-age group that was likely her family. Shay had smiled at her. She'd looked away quickly.
If Delphine noticed any of this, she'd shown no indication, not subject to the hypersensitivity that seized Shay, not plagued by the sense of self-incrimination that harkened from insecurities past or the sense of self-incrimination stemming from a conflicted present. Delphine kept a sedate pace beside Shay, neither leading nor trailing, eager, but in a mild manner.
Though Shay had cast her as chaperone, Delphine's eyes lit up as they wandered into the museum. It wasn't a child's giddy excitement, displayed by the numerous tykes rushing to occupy interactive exhibits, but an aura akin to pride. This was what she endeavored to show Shay: the accomplishments of humanity's curiosity, ingenuity, deduction, and craft--the legacy Delphine sought to carry on.
They paid respects to the human body first, familiar ground to both of them, if in slightly different capacities. Delphine proved the type to read all displayed text--in English or French, whichever proved less crowded and accessible (and not because of preference)--and provided summaries and highlights to save Shay the trouble of having to do the same, her tone while imparting this knowledge part reflective, part evaluative, part professorial.
It was easy to see the academic in Delphine and this softer side of it, rather than as her opponent or interrogator, roused the fondness fostered through such small windows of a woman Shay had first understood as remote and intimidatingly beautiful. It was the cumulative effect of a series of slow, gradual revelations, from those first conventional discussions of a week's physical trials and pains, to the hesitant references to her work, to the longer dinner and happy hour discussions.
To today.
At an interactive station called the Aging Machine, Shay dithered in front of the camera. She turned to Delphine with a suggestive smile.
"Fine," Delphine said without being asked and positioned herself in front of the camera.
"I wouldn't want to risk it stealing my soul," Shay said airily.
Delphine rolled her eyes. "I have never suggested you believe anything such as that."
Shay gave her a sly look that suggested otherwise. Delphine ignored her and gave the eye of the camera a close-lipped smile.
"Of course you'd age well," Shay remarked at the resulting manipulated projection.
"You say that like you wish that I won't," Delphine chided. She regarded the prospect of her lined, sunken features. "This does suppose that I don't gain twenty kilos in the interim."
Shay grinned. "Are you planning to gain weight?"
"You never know," Delphine muttered. "Anything can happen."
What didn't happen was the dance floor filled with jumping, squealing kids producing energy to make the panels light up.
"I cannot compete with that," Delphine said.
"What about a different type of dance floor?" Shay wondered.
"You mean like a discotheque?" Delphine's head canted. "It's been a long time." She cast a sideways look at Shay. "You?"
Shay laughed and didn't answer the question. Delphine's eyebrows rose in silent comment, but she didn't press. Since they were passing by and it was unoccupied, Shay diverted attention to the ultrasound simulator. She nudged the transducer about. "You know, if the goal of having a fun weekend outing is to keep out thoughts of work, I feel like we're not avoiding your line of work very well."
"Being with you is avoiding work," Delphine said without hesitation. "But I wouldn't consider exploring science to be work, either." She smiled down at Shay's aimless handiwork with the transducer. "Do you think I perform ultrasounds all day?"
"No, but I get the feeling it's part of your job somewhere."
Delphine chuckled lowly. "Good guess."
*
It wasn't difficult to get Delphine to play. That was the outing's most delightful discovery. When Shay leaned over during the static electricity demonstration and whispered, "I dare you to volunteer," Delphine gave her a glancing smirk, as if to scoff at the low bar of her challenge, and raised her hand high. (She was passed over in favor of a little girl and her father, the little girl's abundance of fine, medium-length hair perfect to make stand on end.) In the science arcade they saw children struggling with a massive pendulum and Delphine teased that it probably weighed as much as Shay--"Not too heavy." "As if you're one to talk!"--but then, holding Shay's hand for balance, Delphine clambered sacrificially onto the oversized lever to offer Shay an opportunity to determine her weight--as long as Shay could finagle through the math of the accompanying formula.
"I'm not going to stand here all day," Delphine declared.
"It's good for your core strength," Shay pointed out idly.
"Are you a fitness trainer now, as well?" Delphine wondered.
"No, but I've been through boot camp."
That made Delphine reconsider her from her higher ground vantage point.
"What?" Shay prompted.
"Did you lose weight after the military?" Delphine wondered, tone caught between frank curiosity and solicitous caution.
"Yeah," Shay answered with straightforward honesty. "Muscle mass, mostly. I don't lift much and I'm over endless crunches and push ups."
"That is not difficult to understand."
Bearing her diminished load of muscle mass, she and Delphine strained against the matching poles of a magnet together for no other reason than that they could--and laughed at themselves among the confusion of passersby. At the sound waves station, Shay sang a few strains of "A Hard Day's Night," which had played on the radio on the way over, and sent the wires in the display trembling. When she trailed off, Delphine surprised her by launching into a slow tempo French song. They exchanged smiles. It was easy to forget Delphine's foreigner status, in large part due to her fluency in English, which obscured her momentary stumbles or even the moments she requested clarifications on their cultural differences. Because, although she was undeniably French, Delphine never brought attention upon her own cultural specificities, Shay realized. If Shay had talked about being from the prairies, Delphine had presented herself as a city girl, as if there were a universal urban experience.
Clever.
Unsurprisingly.
Also unsurprising (if only to Shay): When Shay sat down to test her reaction time in a driving simulator--accelerate without reserve, brake on cue--her result earned a dubious look from Delphine. Shay vacated the seat and challenged her to have a go.
Shay's time turned out better.
(They chose, out of unspoken mutual respect and utmost chivalry, not to draw attention to the fact, but the look in Delphine's eyes confirmed every suspicion Shay had of Delphine's competitiveness. A second's hesitation preceded Delphine surrendering the seat that belied a probable desire for a second round.)
"Perhaps I should have eaten more this morning," Delphine idly remarked as they walked away.
Smothering a smile, Shay retrieved a fruit bar from the depths of her bag and offered it to Delphine.
Delphine eyed the olive branch. "Want to split it?"
They split it. Victory spread sweetly upon Shay's tongue.
Delphine slipped the wrapper into her pocket, though she swept the area surreptitiously for a wastebin. With her preoccupied, it was Shay that steered them toward the electronic keyboard. Two small children gleefully banged out notes and discordant chords and as she and Delphine neared, their guardians ushered them off and onward. Shay detoured and, considering the black and white array, played a few scales across the keys.
Delphine raised an eyebrow. "You play?"
"My brothers and I all got lessons," Shay said, tapping out a right-hand rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle." "My mom played, so we had a small upright piano at home to practice on, but she sent us to learn from a retired schoolteacher. For a while, we were given lessons altogether, all at once. One of my brothers is actually really good. He kept up with it and started taking lessons again as an adult. Do you play?"
Delphine smiled. "Do I look like I do?"
"It wouldn't surprise me at all if you played three instruments from different families."
Delphine laughed. "You give me too much credit."
"Maybe," Shay agreed in part. "You could tell me you figure skate and I'd probably accept it after a second."
"Figure skate? On the ice?" Delphine guffawed. "That would have to be a thing of the past now. I'm not sure my hip could handle any falls on ice."
"Good point."
Shay struck a tritone on the keyboard, making Delphine wince, and they moved. One plaque on colors earned a small hum of interest from Delphine.
"Something you didn't know?" gasped Shay playfully.
"Physics is not my discipline, chérie," Delphine retorted absentmindedly, stunning Shay into silence. The rebuke didn't mute Shay; the endearment did. Delphine had never used it before--and if it were a slip, Shay couldn't tell by Delphine's subsequent behavior.
(Which signified it hardly meant a thing.)
They stole away from physics and ensconced themselves in nature. Delphine adopted a contemplative air as they moved from display to display. Shay looked at her inquisitively.
"This is closer to Cosima's discipline," Delphine said.
"You're saying Cosima is into creepy crawlers?"
Delphine smiled. "I can't speak to that. But evolutionary development focuses on tracing and tracking evolution across species, finding these points of kinship and derivation, but also trying to determine what influences developments."
"I feel like I'm flaunting my ignorance here," Shay said, "but you and Cosima studied really different things, right? Or no?"
"Different," Delphine agreed, "but there is considerable overlap. We move in specializations of biology and biochemistry. It can be that the deeper you move into specialization, the more esoteric your work looks like from the outside."
Shay nodded slowly. "So it's not unusual that you work together on the same projects."
The question took a second to percolate but Delphine nodded.
"It's just unusual that she doesn't look like a scientist," Shay added facetiously, smiling.
Delphine shook her head. "You never said whether or not I look like a scientist."
"Well," Shay drawled, "do you?"
"You don't think I look like a scientist?" Delphine asked, sharper than Shay expected. "If I don't look like a scientist, then what do I look like?"
"A model?" Shay hazarded.
Delphine scoffed.
"You can't seriously tell me that people aren't . . . stunned by how beautiful you are," Shay insisted.
Delphine shook her head. "I can think of plenty of reasons someone might have reaction to me. Sometimes it's because I'm a woman and I sound like I know what I'm talking about or I dared to speak at all. Sometimes it's because I'm foreign and my accent sets me apart."
"Uh huh," Shay followed along drily, "and you never once thought that it was your looks that garnered a reaction?"
The lines of Delphine's face appeared to harden. "I have, yes. Does that make me arrogant? Do I feel any less tired if someone chooses to use that against me to delegitimize or undermine my work?" She met Shay's eyes. "On the other hand, if I chose to make my appearance work for me rather than against me, does that make me less of a scientist? I'm penalized if I try to downplay my appearance. I'm penalized if I'm passive. I'm penalized if I appear like I'm emphasizing my appearance. I'm penalized if I'm seen as making myself attractive. There's no winning. You should know."
There was genuine anger and exasperation in Delphine's response that made Shay defensive in an almost apologetic way. "In my case, people mostly perceive me as small and harmless. You thought I was a hippie. I don't know if I can parlay that into an advantage. As a massage therapist, I look nice, I guess, like it's okay to let me touch you? But clients doubt my capabilities. It's not as bad as the military. The sergeants used any perceived weakness, any insecurity, any trait they could turn negative to try to wear us down--and we were expected to take it because we were nobodies and nothing until they built us up. It definitely wasn't a place I relished looking 'cute.'"
Silence padded Delphine's response. "That's not what I meant."
Shay exhaled the jangle of nerves that had blossomed and jittered throughout her muscles into a self-deprecating smile. "I was only trying to say that you're beautiful, Delphine. Really beautiful. Honestly."
Delphine mirrored her expression. "That's what I was trying to point out about you."
*
They both saw the exhibit but by unvoiced accord steered around it in favor of the neighboring exhibits in the building. Process of elimination gradually rendered it the last possible stop before moving on.
The Question of Truth.
They could have ignored it. The hall name instilled wariness. Subdued caution made Delphine's footsteps land heavy and Shay fell quiet. Months ago Delphine might have relished the opportunity to confront alternative, (borderline) anti-scientific modes of thinking, to flaunt the unsound basis before Shay, and press and needle, but the prospect felt daunting in the moment. In the back of Delphine's mind lingered their earlier conversation, the strength of her defensiveness about her appearance, pestered by thoughts of Aldous, of Greg, of knowing very well the effectiveness of allure, the hook baited with enticement, how all these elements played into the expectations and duties of a monitor. Shay's words had cleaved too close.
Inside, the exhibit seemed to sense Delphine's diffidence, if an exhibit could be sentient. One section scrutinized the theory and practice of eugenics. Delphine lent it no attention, as if it were below her notice, while Shay gave it a passing perusal, oblivious to connections that could have been drawn to Delphine and the DYAD and the ensuing arguments between herself and Cosima.
The acupuncture module had the most success arresting Shay's attention. She tapped the buttons--representative of pressure points on a model of the human body--and smiled to see the meridians of the body light up. She pressed her fingertips to one half of the decal--the yin or the yang, Delphine wasn't sure--and then they drifted toward the other exhibits together, without comment.
When they left the room and headed leisurely toward the planetarium--their potential last stop, lest they wanted to brave the outdoors and the trails, sans hats, Shay lamented--Shay said, without looking at Delphine, "I know you think some of my beliefs are silly."
Delphine refrained from responding.
"It's why I don't really bring up any of that around you," Shay continued. "I'd love it if you picked up yoga or meditation, of course, but I try those on you because I know that yoga and meditation offer health benefits that even you would have a hard time refuting." Shay crossed her arms. "But those weren't the reasons I started doing them. For me, it was all about balance." Shay inhaled and exhaled sharply. "I was in a really bad way at one point. Like, really bad. And," Shay risked a brief sideways glance, "you know, I don't discredit or discount conventional medicine. I know it can help and I'm prepared if I have to take that option again. Antidepressants got me through the worst of my patches. But taking them was also like riding a rollercoaster. I hated all the trial and error cocktails I had to try to find a prescription and a dose that worked. I was given different drugs in combination, so I was up, I was down, I had no appetite, I was overeating--I hated it. On top of that, it all happened at a time hen I wasn't settled. I was bouncing around, practically couch surfing, so I had no regular doctor to write prescriptions and keeping up with them got hard."
Shay licked her lips. "It wasn't a new problem, though. My mom, she thought it was the military. 'You should have never joined,' she told me. But the military didn't make me that way. The way I felt, the way I thought, it was all there before, I was just really good at ignoring it or pretending it wasn't a problem." Shay breathed in sharply and exhaled in a gust. "But after the military, when that didn't pan out for me, when it wasn't the secure path that a part of me had hoped it would turn out to be, all those feelings became louder. Overwhelming. I needed a better solution.
"The meditation came first. Or maybe accepting my sexuality did. Or maybe they happened together . . . That is, they kinda happened with the same person. I met her, she was into meditation, one thing led to another . . ." Shay smiled, shrugged. "With meditation I discovered this pocket of time where I started to feel centered and with her I started to realize I could live parts of my life openly and that I could be okay with that. Not afraid. Not nervous. Not guilty.
"My diet changed because of her diet, too. The no-meat thing wasn't even an issue since she was a vegetarian herself. Honestly, you might think I'm a hippie, but I have nothing on her. I mean, like, she could be . . . extreme. But I was eating better, more consciously, and with a lot more enjoyment. Just . . . in general, I was enjoying things again. I started feeling like I had the energy and the desire to do things again. Try new things, even. That's when the yoga happened."
Shay nodded to herself. "It's a whole system for me. One part buttresses another part--I eat well and consistently, I exercise, and I try to keep my head clear and positive--and when everything is working, it's like a . . . a wall. Or you know those houses on stilts that raise the foundation above a water line? These activities are like my stilts.
"I don't need other people to understand how it works to know that it works for me. And I know it's not something that can work for everyone--the parts individually or the system altogether--but once I got to a better place, I thought maybe it wouldn't be bad to try to help other people looking for the same thing."
Shay blew out a breath. "It's a good system, but it's not a cure. But there aren't cures in this case. I still have my moments. But I've learned how to recognize an onset and how to get through the choppy waters. I know there's an other side."
Shay folded her arms. "You know how the other day you talked about your former patient and how her boyfriend broke up with her? You said maybe it had to do with her illness. What goes on with me is not--it's not the same thing. But. Yeah. I've seen it. I get that it's hard. Not everyone likes my choice in how I deal with my problems. I've had people tell me maybe I'm running away from facing the issue head on. They want a fast solution, a permanent one, something that seems reliable and consistent. I know it comes from a good place--they want what's best for me. For them--significant others, especially--I think it's hard to feel like their presence alone doesn't have an effect. They feel like what they offer, what they give--their time, their attention--should make someone happy--and despite their efforts it doesn't seem to work. For reasons they can't understand, the person who says they love them isn't automatically happy or reassured or buoyed by their presence. How else can you feel except . . . helpless? esentful. Resented. People don't bargain for that type of emotional labor." Shay shook her head, but a little self-deprecating smile claimed her lips. "I guess love doesn't entirely trump chemistry."
Delphine moved quietly, absorbing everything Shay had just divulged. They'd carried on without slowing throughout the entirety of her speech.
After a period of deep contemplation, Delphine said, "Love is chemistry."
"I knew you were going to say that!" Shay exclaimed.
Delphine smiled opaquely but then slipped into solicitous. "I can't say I understand."
"I wouldn't wish that on you or anyone," Shay said frankly.
"I'm sorry for making you feel that you can't discuss certain topics with me," Delphine said. "I wish I could say I don't understand that, either, but I do."
Shay shrugged. "You're not interested. You're not the only one. I know how that goes."
Delphine struggled to make sense of what she wanted to express. "But you know that I value your thoughts and opinions?"
Shay smiled to herself, amused, cynical.
Delphine frowned to herself. "I wouldn't come to you if I didn't."
Shay shot her a silent, unreadable look.
"Shay," entreated Delphine.
"You might not want to hear this opinion," Shay said.
"What?"
Shay sighed almost imperceptibly. "I'm your sounding board. Which is fine."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm not changing your opinions with mine. You're doing that. By yourself. When you come to talk to me, it's . . . a confirmation process. You're reaffirming conclusions you've already come to on your own."
"That's not true."
"It's not a bad thing, Delphine."
They crossed into the hall dedicated to space exploration and astronomy, bombarded with the raised voices of stimulated children, but proceeded in their own bubble of contention.
"But it's not true," Delphine asserted. "I listen to what you say. Disagreeing on some points doesn't mean I don't respect you."
Shay shook her head. "I didn't say that you did." She stopped and pivoted to regard Delphine squarely. "Whatever you're struggling with--whenever--I'm glad to be there."
Delphine frowned. "Why are you resisting the idea that you influence me?"
Shay shook her head slowly. "I'm not resisting, I'm acknowledging that we come from completely different perspectives--and that's okay. I'm not friends with you so I can change you. I'm friends with you because I enjoy your company and we get along and you bring me to the science museum I wish we'd had on the prairies growing up."
"But I'm not the same person I was when we met," Delphine said and knew it was true.
"You would have gotten here without me," Shay said, smiling feebly. "Whatever's been nudging you to ask questions, it's not me."
"But would I have made it through intact?" Delphine countered. "You've kept me above the waters." Her voice softened. "It is not for you to determine or quantify what you've done for me."
Shay held her gaze, but glanced away before speaking. "You mean there's no interactive activity station and tried-and-true formula for that?"
Delphine smiled. "Thank you."
Shay raised her eyes, a question in their blue depths.
"For telling me," Delphine clarified.
Shay's expression tightened subtly into hard, uncertain lines. Delphine held out a hand.
"Shall we continue?" Delphine asked.
Shay hesitated, but eventually her hand tucked into Delphine's. Her grip was ginger, like it might slip from Delphine's fingers at any moment.
*
They ended their day at the Ontario Science Centre in the planetarium, sitting quietly side by side as first the fanciful imaginations of long-dead visionaries took abstract picture in the constellations currently discernible in the sky, then were displayed images of what the ancients couldn't see, planets and stars captured by high-powered lenses, as they were and as present-day imaginations supposed, echoing the efforts of their forebears trying to make sense of the unknown. In the hush of the dark, Delphine felt the presence of those around her like the stars in their incalculable galaxies, numerous and distant and theoretically ballooning out farther, even Shay beside her, their earlier conversation like the vacuum spanning immeasurable, insurmountable lengths.
When they shuffled out of the planetarium with the flow of the queue, Shay scanned Delphine's expression. "What are you thinking?"
"We're made of the substances from stars," Delphine said, "since elements that occur naturally originate from fusion processes in them."
Shay shoved her hands into her pockets and smiled. "'All this universe, to the farthest stars and beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.'"
Delphine cocked her head. "What is that?"
"Rilke. Since you sounded poetic just now."
"You are casting me in many professions today. Figure skater, model, poet."
Shay grinned. "Did you ever want to be something other than a doctor and a scientist?"
Delphine shook her head slowly. "I did not care what I wanted to be for what seemed like a long time--you know, when you're young, everything happens so much more quickly."
"Yes, because we're so old," Shay said drily.
"Pardon. You're certainly still young."
Shay stuck out her tongue.
Delphine smiled. "I was very good at mathematics, chemistry, and biology, and medicine . . . seemed like a natural fit. Many suggested it. They said I had the aptitude and the discipline. It was a goal. I'm good at goals. I make everything else fit into them and, somehow, new ones keep appearing."
"That sounds nice," Shay remarked idly. "You said you make everything fit into your goals, but has there been anything you've had to put aside?"
Delphine's head jerked in a gesture analogous to a shrug.
"That many regrets, huh?" Shay teased.
Then Delphine remembered.
Shay, looking at her, grew somber. "Sorry. I didn't mean to dredge up any bad memories."
Delphine stopped before a model of the solar system, the planets locked in their orbits around the sun. Shay drifted uncertainly to a standstill at her side. Delphine indicated the model with her chin.
"All mass," she said, "exerts a gravitational force. The more mass, the greater the force. Earth orbits the sun, the moon orbits the earth, the tides rise and fall with the force of the moon."
Shay watched her warily. It was a basic science lesson, one Delphine hoped her friend had been exposed to already.
"The system looks stable to us because it has been functioning for an amount of time difficult for us to grasp and changes on a scale that massive are undetectable to the naked eye. But did you know the moon is moving slowly away from Earth?"
Shay shook her head.
"In the case of Mars, one of its moons is getting closer. One day it will either break up or collide with the planet."
"Did you take a short detour during your studies to contemplate a career as an astronomer?" Shay asked.
Delphine smiled tightly. "I had an ex who liked to tell me facts like that."
The tidbit of information stunned Shay a little.
"He did not see himself fitting into my goals," Delphine said.
"Oh," Shay said quietly. "I'm sor--"
Delphine shook her head. "I didn't mind. It wouldn't have worked. I respected that. But people are like celestial bodies, aren't they? We all have our orbits. We get caught up within the pull of others . . . revolve around one another . . . grow closer . . . drift apart . . ." Delphine fought off a frown. "Destroy each other."
Shay searched her eyes, gauging Delphine's mood, trying to determine the appropriate response. Delphine dredged the options from their past experiences: Humor? Sympathy? Attentive and permissive silence?
Delphine smiled because she recognized the effort and that it was exuded on her behalf. "Unlike planets, we can . . . choose to let go."
Shay nodded in consideration. "Though, like planets, sometimes we're drawn and driven by forces we can't control--like our own nature and impulses."
But nature wasn't on Delphine's mind. She thought of monitors, of oblivious but ambitious classmates, of the web that was the DYAD casting out its invisible threads to ensnare all within reach.
Could Delphine let Shay go? For her safety? Did it matter now, with Cosima in the picture? Or was Delphine using Cosima's presence and meddling as an excuse to rationalize her own reluctance?
Since when was she reluctant to let anyone go?
Delphine swallowed.
"What you told me earlier," Delphine managed, "doesn't change my opinion or how I think." Shay shifted and stood up straighter. "You know that I worry. About you."
Shay smiled stiffly, mouth bordering on the contours of a laugh. "I know."
"I don't worry about many people," Delphine said quietly.
Shay's smile faltered. She studied Delphine silently for a time. Then her mouth curved, soft and tender. "Yes, you do." She reached out and squeezed Delphine's forearm. "You worry all the time. I know you do. I've watched worrying about someone else eat you up for months now."
A sheen of moisture filled the corners of Delphine's eyes. She worried a crack might split her composure.
Not like that, she wanted to tell Shay. Not like this.
But Delphine wasn't sure she had the clarity or the words to explain what she meant.
What she felt.
Delphine covered Shay's hand.
Shay smiled. "Hungry? I'm feeling kinda Greek today. I'm in the mood for some dolmades."
Delphine cleared her throat. "You don't want to take a look at the outdoor exhibits?"
"Let's come back to see those some other time." Shay slipped her hand out from beneath Delphine's. "Like in the spring or the summer. I'll make sure to bring a hat next time. And I'd like to go to the planetarium again. I really liked that."
"Okay," Delphine said, regathering her composure behind a little smile. "Some other time."
There would be other times.
Delphine wanted there to be other times.
*
Returning to the car after lunch, stomachs accommodating falafel, hummus, pita, dolmades, and tzatziki, Delphine's footsteps seemed heavy.
"Is your hip acting up?" Shay asked.
Delphine shook her head. "No."
"Good," Shay said, "because I was going to offer to drive but I don't know how you'd feel about that."
A smile flitted across Delphine's lips. She glanced up at the sky. "Did you have fun today?"
"A ton of fun," Shay said. "I feel like today we learned the valuable lesson that karaoke needs to happen."
Delphine snickered to herself. "That might be an option if there's a piano concert in exchange."
Shay grinned. "Sure, one Davydov piano recital--I'll tell my brother to get practicing. He's great, honestly. You'll love it."
Delphine smiled, but there was a melancholy undercast to her mood.
"I had a lot of fun today," Shay assured her, sincerely. "Your choice went beyond expectations. Not that that has anything to do with anything. I enjoy when we spend time together."
"So do I," Delphine said. But the sentiment of her tone came across closer to resigned.
"Don't try to sound too excited," Shay teased. "I might figure out how you really feel."
Delphine didn't smile or laugh, but subjected Shay to a long, wordless regard. At last, Delphine asked, "Is there anything else you'd like to do today? Anywhere you'd like to go?"
"Sure, Anthropologie might be having a sale and if not there's always the bookstore," Shay said flippantly.
Delphine opened the driver's side door. "Let's go."
"I was kidding," Shay protested, climbing into the car after Delphine.
"Maybe caffeine first," Delphine said, hitting the ignition button and blithely ignoring Shay's dissent.
"Well," Shay said slowly, securing her seatbelt, "if you're up to it . . ."
Delphine smiled. "Is Tim Horton's okay?"
Left with no more straws of pretense, no plans for the remainder of the day, no clue as to the winds of Delphine's sudden whimsy, Shay surrendered.
"Whatever you feel like, Delphine."
What Delphine felt, Shay couldn't help but suspect, was a reluctance to return so soon to solitude. But maybe Shay was projecting. Maybe she was the one unready to end the day, to reflect on what had transpired and maybe regret having said this and maybe anticipate having to hear that. Maybe Delphine knew what this day needed, a little more time to recalibrate, a little more time to assure one another everything was normal, everything was fine.
Nothing had changed.
Nothing would change.
//
Next
I'm not sure how I feel about that coda. I have a note in the draft asking myself if I want to keep it or scrap it. There are a number of things in this section where I wonder if the writing and presentation border on too obvious and blatant and thus the sentiment loses impact. This section has a lot of potential to be Trying Too Hard, but it's also a section I felt brought out a lot of elements that were beneath the surface. I don't know. When do I ever know????