Chapter 2

Past

The study sessions with Stacy were grueling to say the least. Everything had to be perfect, every word written, every answer, every paragraph read. It seemed Stacy expected Betty to memorize everything given to her. Period. She somehow managed to zero directly in on anything Betty had skimmed or didn't understand. Her attitude was brusque, almost to the point of rudeness, and irritated the younger girl to no end.

Betty thought Stacy hated her. She didn't care much for Stacy either.

Things almost came to a head in one particularly brutal session about six weeks after they'd started. Stacy was in fine form, tearing holes in the work Betty had done, picking out small problems and faults, even where Betty could have sworn there were none. Betty had been having some arguments with her dad recently and was in no mood for this. Her temper was beginning to fray, her voice getting louder, her answers getting sharper.

After about an hour, Stacy leaned back into her chair, put her hands behind her head, and stretched. She held that position for a while, just seeming to relax.

"Betty, I've had enough of this crap for a while. Let's go out for a coffee or something. My treat. We'll get back to it later."

There were several firsts for Betty in this. She'd never seen Stacy in this kind of mood before. She'd never been offered any kind of personal connection before, and she'd never ever heard Stacy swear before. She was a little leery of this.

"How come the sudden change of pace?"

Stacy stayed in the same stretched-out position. There was a pause before she answered.

"My workload's been brutal lately. I really need a break, and I'd prefer it in the company of someone pleasant and charming."

Pleasant and charming? This was from Stacy, the person who'd spent nearly two months shredding every bit of work Betty had done? The same person who'd been snapping and growling at her the whole time? The one who Betty could swear hated her?

"Don't get me wrong on this, but I thought you really didn't like me."

"Mmmmm." She stretched a little more, using her hands to rub the back of her neck and scalp. "Betty, Betty, Betty. Whoever said such a nasty thing was both a fool and a liar."

"Stacy, you've been harping on me, degrading my work, and chewing me out every chance you got since the day we started this tutor stuff. What the hell am I supposed to think?"

Stacy stopped her massage and put her hands down the side of the chair, leaned her head forward, eyes closed, stretching and loosening the muscles in her neck. It was a few minutes before she answered.

"You're right. Look, I'm sorry. It seems I've been taking out my personal frustrations on you. If it helps, I'll tell you why. I've got a big workload at school, trying to maintain my grades so I can get a scholarship for college. I've got to work as well, as much as I can, to try and help my dad support me here. My last lover and I broke up a couple of months ago, and I don't have any really close friends here that I can dump my problems on. I guess it's been a bit more pressure than I can really cope with. You've been the unwitting target of my aggravations. I apologize. And yes, I really do like you. I promise I won't bite you anymore. At least, not unless you really deserve it." She said that last bit with a shy half-smile, and a glance at Betty.

Betty saw that smile and decided that maybe Stacy wasn't all that bad. "Y'know, you have been acting like a she-devil who's sole mission was to *make*my*evenings*a*living*hell*." Her voice became deeper and coarser as she said those last few words. It was a poor imitation of the announcer on the horror flicks, but still recognizable.

"Ouch! I guess I deserved that. I do need to get away from this mess, even if it's only for a little while. You haven't said yes or no yet, Betty."

Stacy was still stretched out in her chair, head now hanging back, eyes closed, seemingly relaxed. For some reason, Betty thought she saw Stacy tense up slightly after that last sentence. It was rather odd, but it reminded her of a guy who'd asked her out on a date last week. She'd turned him down (he was a geek) but still felt sorry for him when she'd seen that brief look of pain in his eyes.

It was something of a decision. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know Stacy any better, especially with the way she'd been treated for the last while. But then again, maybe the real person was finally starting to show through. It certainly couldn't make these tutoring sessions any worse. 'Oh, what the hell. Why not.'

"Yes."

Stacy had been tense, waiting for her answer. Betty saw the faint but unmistakable signs of Stacy's body relaxing slightly, especially around the shoulders.

Betty changed out of her sweats into tight jeans and a nice blouse. She felt a bit embarrassed about changing in front of Stacy, not really understanding why. Shaking it off as illogical, she still noticed that the older girl was watching her carefully out of the corner of her eye, especially when she was squirming into her jeans.

Jonathan didn't even look up when Betty told him they were taking a break and heading out for a cola someplace. It wasn't until they were in Stacy's car and heading down the road that either of them spoke again.

Breaking the silence, Betty went first. "Stacy, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two had broken up. He seemed like such a nice guy, too."

"He?" Betty took that as a question of identity, not realizing there could be another interpretation of its meaning.

"Yeah, that guy you were with the first night you showed up at my place." Seeing a puzzled look on Stacy's face, she went on. "You know, the tall dreamy looking guy, sort-of italian? Come on, Stacy. I'd never forget a kiss like that in a million years!"

"Oh. Right! Woody. He came over that night."

"That's the guy."

Stacy laughed a bit. Betty saw that the older girl was blushing.

"Sorry Betty, I couldn't help myself. That was only a couple of weeks after my breakup. And no, Woody wasn't my lover. He's a dear friend that likes to look after 'his little girl'. Of course, he's got a few dozen little girls to look after, and a couple of them are old enough to be his mother."

"Don't worry. I can hear those dirty thoughts percolating through your dirty little mind, picturing all sorts of dirty little scenes. Woody is the maintenance man for the apartment complex I live in. He considers every woman in there, regardless of age or looks, his little girl. And yes, he's done this for me before, and for several other girls that I know of."

"I'm sorry if I got the wrong idea, but if I remember correctly, and I couldn't possibly forget this, that kiss he gave you was a far cry from some chaste brotherly peck on the cheek."

"Oooo-boy-yeah! You got that right. When that man kisses you, you stay kissed for a week. He's incredible. Who knows. Maybe you'll meet him again. And if you're really, really good, he might give you a kiss too."

"No way! After seeing what he did to you, I'd be scared to let him near me! Besides, he might spoil me for life."

"You could be right. I've never found anyone else who could kiss like that."

"So, who were you going out with? Would I know the guy?"

"Look, Betty. Maybe we can talk about this another time, when its not so fresh and painful." Betty watched as several brief expressions ran across Stacy's face. She recognized only two. The first was a short flash of pain, and the other was... embarrassment? Yes, because she was blushing a little, again.

Taking her eyes off Stacy, she looked around, noticing where they were. They'd already passed several of the fast-food joints Betty thought they might be going to, and seemed to be heading towards the university.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to a little restaurant I know. I really do need a break, and it's one of the most relaxing places in the city."

A few minutes later they arrived. It looked like one of those subdued, out-of-the way, expensive places. Annabella's. She'd never even heard of it before. When they walked in, it looked elegant, relaxed, and even more expensive. The maitre'd (yes, maitre'd, not hostess) was an older lady, good looking, well made up, wearing a modestly cut black dress.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and low-pitched. Her accent was as clear as it was unidentifiable. Betty couldn't even tell which continent the accent came from.

"Good evening. Ah, Anastasia. How nice to see you again. And who is this you brought with you?"

"This is Elizabeth. We've been studying a bit too much lately, so I thought we deserved a proper break."

"Studying?" This from the maitre'd.

"Yes, studying. Schoolwork. Really dry, boring, miserable stuff about people who've mostly been dead for decades. I thought this would be the perfect place for a change of scenery."

"Excellent choice. I believe I understand. Follow me please."

This was a nice restaurant. It was difficult to estimate how many tables or booths were there because of the strategic placement of potted plants and scattered trellis-works, with pillars and archways that sprang out from nowhere. Everything seemed geared towards making each table and booth as private as possible.

They were finally seated in a corner booth, blocked off from view by a large plant and by the corner of the restaurant's bar. The seat was an L shaped booth around a smallish table, leaving not much room for feet and legs. The table was covered with a real linen cloth. Subdued, soft music came from somewhere. As you'd expect in a place like this. They'd seen few other patrons on their way, and those were mostly women.

This was not the type of place Betty had been expecting to be treated to for 'a coffee or something'. Then again, she really didn't know anything about Stacy. The sheer elegance of the place left her in awe, neither her mother nor her father had ever treated her to a restaurant this nice. Dad occasionally took her to McDonald's for dinner, as if she were still a little girl, never thinking to take her to the kind of places he took Patsy.

"Anastasia? Elizabeth?" This from a rather puzzled-looking Betty.

"Look around. Soak in the atmosphere. Get the feel of this place. Stacy's and Betty's don't come here. They go to Denny's. This is where elegant ladies come for fine food and drink. A place where Elizabeth and Anastasia can relax and enjoy themselves. God, I feel better already."

"Okay, but, Anastasia?"

"What can I say. Back then my mother was a hopeless romantic."

They were interrupted by a waitress, dressed identically to the maitre'd, except that the dress and accessories were in blue. She sat several items on the table - linen napkins, linen place mats, a tall pink candle which she lit, and a bud vase containing a fresh pink rose.

"Hello Anastasia, Elizabeth. My name is Jacklyn and I'll be your host for this evening. Would you like drinks to start with?"

Betty was thirsty so she asked for a cola. A pained expression flashed over both Stacy's and their host's faces.

"Do you even have cola here?" asked Stacy.

"Of course. We use it for mix behind the bar."

"I think I'd better order for both of us. Are you hungry Elizabeth?"

Feeling a touch embarrassed by her unintentional faux-pas, Betty stared at the table. "Only a little. Maybe."

"It's all right, Elizabeth. I can see you've never been treated to a place like this before. This will be a new experience for you. Don't worry. My first time here was only a couple of years ago, and I was in such awe, the only memory I have of what we ate that night is that it was delicious."

"We'll skip the cola, and the meal, and go straight to dessert. I feel like committing a mortal sin tonight. We'll have two house coffees, a half-litre of your dry white, and two slices of that utter decadence you call raspberry cake. I think that should be enough to guarantee our fall from grace."

"Very well. I'll be back shortly."

"Stacy, what is this place?"

"Elizabeth, while we're here, I'm Anastasia. This is a first-class high-quality dining establishment. It has a very select and privileged list of patrons, mostly referrals from other members."

"So how come we're here? I'm not rich, and it didn't sound like you were either. I mean, this place almost screams expensive. How come they let us in if it's so exclusive?"

"Money and power won't get you in here. Neither will fine clothes. Notice you were let in wearing jeans? Nobody even blinked. Discretion, manners, a nice attitude, and the ability to enjoy a really good meal are all that you need. That and a good referral."

"But this place has got to be expensive. How can you afford it?"

"Elizabeth, I treat myself here about once a month, just to remind me of why I'm working so damned hard. I LIKE it here. It's usually desserts, like we're having, because I rarely have enough left over for a real dinner. Yes, the prices are high, but not outrageous. And the food is always wonderful."

Just then their host (her words, not mine) returned carrying a tray full of food. Two coffee's, a small carafe of wine, two wine glasses, and something that vaguely resembled chocolate cake. Stacy poured two glasses of wine while Betty studied this thing placed in front of her.

It did resemble chocolate cake, because the layers of cake were chocolate coloured, as was the icing, what little she could see of it. There were about ten layers of cake, with alternating chocolate and raspberry icing between them. The lowest layer was thick with raspberry filling. So much shaved chocolate had been dropped on top that most of it had fallen onto the plate. This was all covered with a thick raspberry glaze. Looking more carefully, Betty saw that a handful of fresh raspberries (fresh?!) had been sprinkled around the plate, and a gold leaf had been pressed into the back of her slice, on the icing. This resembled the chocolate cake she was used to like a full wedding gown resembled a simple summer dress.

"Am I supposed to eat this?"

"No. You're supposed to taste it, savor it, enjoy it, revel in it. You can't just eat it. And don't forget the wine and the coffee. They're necessary parts of the whole, if you want to have the full experience. Don't make the same mistake I did. Pay attention to your first meal here. Now, not another peep out of you until we're both done."

Betty relaxed and started to eat. It was delicious. She didn't know how Stacy got away with the wine, because they were both underage, but what the heck. It certainly did go well with the cake and the coffee.

After they were finished, Stacy poured them both a second glass of wine. Their host came by and cleared the table.

"How was your meal, ladies?"

"Divine, as usual. I don't know how much you pay the folks that make these temptations, but it's not enough. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Will this be your usual?"

"Yes. And yours as well."

"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

When Jacklyn left, Stacy slipped off her shoes, turned, and slid into the corner of the booth, draping her feet over the end. Betty didn't mind. It gave her more room for her legs under the table. They'd been playing foot shuffle all night, neither having quite enough room for legs and feet.

"C'mon Elizabeth. Kick your shoes off and get comfy." Betty did as she was told. Getting comfortable, though, was easier said than done. The bench was too hard on her feet if she tried to curl them up underneath her, and there wasn't quite enough room to turn and put them on the bench in front of her - they'd poke into Stacy.

Finally, giving up on getting comfortable, Betty was sitting up and stretching to put her shoes on. Stacy reached down, grabbed one of the young girl's feet, and pulled it up into her own lap.

"Let's have the other one up here too."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting comfortable. You've been squirming around like you had ants in your pants, trying to find somewhere to put your feet. Now they've got someplace to stay, so sit back and relax."

Betty put her other foot into Stacy's lap and leaned back. She was a bit startled by what had happened, especially when the other girl started to massage her feet. The easy-going atmosphere, the music and the wine helped her to accept what was happening and just enjoy the moment.

They finished their wine in silence. Stacy stared off into the distance, lost in thought. Betty stared at Stacy, studying her face, watching different expressions appear and vanish as her mind moved here and there.

Thinking about it for a minute, Betty realized that she felt more comfortable here than anywhere else she'd been, including home, in a long, long time. It was totally relaxing and peaceful, with no nagging thoughts, no guilt about not doing something else, nobody demanding anything of her, and no dad.

No dad? That last little trickle of thought made her realize that dad was indeed a major stress factor in her life. Even though they loved each other, her father was a constant reminder of the labor it took to survive, the loss of her mother, and Patsy. Mentally shaking herself to get rid of these thoughts, Betty let her mind go blank. She simply enjoyed this feelings of utter 'rightness', sitting there, doing nothing, getting her feet rubbed, letting the tensions and worries slide away and be replaced by feelings of warmth, security, and, well, caring.

She decided she liked the older girl. Maybe more than liked.

Eventually Stacy said it was time to go. Neither really wanted to, but both knew they had no choice. Her father would probably be wondering where they went. Slipping on shoes and heading out the door, they were in the car and heading home before a nagging thought in the back of Betty's mind finally stepped up.