Chapter Five #2
“It’s not that I think you have to be in college to grow and challenge yourself,” Van says softly.
“I don’t think that, at all. But I also…
I don’t know.” She takes a sip of her coffee, clearly stalling as she thinks of how to say it.
“Marie has the rest of her life to have a career, to be practical. She’s only eighteen.
I wish she could…you know. Be a kid for a little longer.
Do things because she loves them and they challenge her, not just because one day they’ll help her make more money. ”
Alice forces herself not to retort right away. She tries to be thoughtful, like Van. To consider everything Van has said, and especially to consider what she hasn’t.
“It’s hard,” Alice says softly. “To grow up too quickly.”
Van’s head snaps over to her, seemingly against her will.
She’s staring hard at Alice, her eyes a little narrowed.
She opens and closes her mouth without saying anything, and Alice wonders if Van is feeling the way Alice often has since yesterday morning, like the two of them already know each other in ways no one else has bothered to.
All Van says is, “It is,” but Alice knows she hit it on the money.
Van—gay, butch, dykey Van, sister of the handsome and wealthy Nolan who might or might not be an enormous jerk—grew up too fast, and now she wants better for her baby sister.
Alice wonders what her life would have been like if she’d been a Marie, if she’d had a Van.
—
Alice shouldn’t be surprised that Van walks her into work that evening, not after she followed Alice up those two flights of stairs at her apartment, but she is. Van gallantly tries to open the front door for Alice, and Alice really should tell her that you need a badge at this hour.
“What the hell,” Van says, shaking the glass door by the metal handle, and Alice doesn’t bother to stifle her laugh.
She wordlessly swipes her badge after giving herself a moment to enjoy the visual, and Van nearly falls over as she gives another sharp tug but this time the door easily swings open, sending her tripping backward.
“Fuck!”
Alice holds out her hands, laughing, grabbing onto Van to keep her upright.
“Sorry,” she chortles. “I couldn’t help it.”
Van mutters something about abuse while she straightens her shirt, but she’s clearly trying and failing not to smile. “After you,” she says, holding the offending door open with an eye roll and an overdramatic sweep of her arm, and Alice slides inside, still grinning.
She takes a few steps across the lobby but stops in her tracks when she sees who’s in her seat behind the computer.
“Mr. Brown,” Alice says, resuming her slow walk toward the desk. “This is a surprise.” She tries to keep her face neutral, but she knows what’s coming. The only reason he would be here in person is so that he can fire Alice.
She looks back to where Van is standing and looking a bit confused. “Uh, Mr. Brown, let me introduce you to Van Altman. Nolan Altman’s sister.”
Van nods at him, and he nods back.
“We just came from the hospital.” Hey, if Alice is going to torture herself for the rest of her life for lying to Van and the Altmans, she might as well milk it while it’s happening.
“I see,” Mr. Brown says slowly. “And, um, how is Mr. Altman doing?”
“Stable,” Alice says at the same time as Van says, “Still unresponsive.”
Alice looks over at Van quickly. She’s always hated that question, How is he doing? It’s so invasive. Like, I’m sorry, but just because you asked doesn’t mean I have to share all the gory, intimate details of this person’s disintegrating body with you, near-stranger.
“Stable but unresponsive,” she says.
“Well, I, uh…” He looks awkward, and Alice isn’t sure if she wants to ask Van to leave or not.
Honestly it might be nice to get a ride home after being fired.
Maybe hug Frank again. “I moved the schedule around, so you should go home,” Mr. Brown continues, looking pained at having to say it.
“You start on the early day shift in the morning.”
There’s suddenly a loud rushing in Alice’s ears, so she’s not sure she heard him right. “The…the early day shift?”
“Seven to three,” he says. “With Delilah.”
“Um, wow,” Alice says, gorgeously articulate as always. “This is…wow.” Then, because she’s been burned too many times before, she clarifies. “Do you mean only for this week, or…”
“Permanent,” he says, his voice gruff. “Unless you don’t want—”
“No!” Alice takes an involuntary step forward. “No, I definitely want it. Thank you, sir. So much.”
He gives her a quick nod. “Seven,” he says. “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.” She grins at him, and turns to Van, her eyes screaming with happiness.
The day shift! The fucking day shift! No more overnights, no more living like a vampire without seeing Portland’s best approximation of daylight, no more breakfast for dinner.
No more sitting behind the desk all alone—the early day shift has two receptionists at all times.
She’ll have someone to talk to, actual visitors to direct to various floors.
Things to do with her time. People to watch.
“Oh, and, Rue?”
Alice turns back to him.
“Wear something nice tomorrow. Local news wants to interview you.”
An icy wave of realization slams the joy right out of her.
“Oh,” she says, her mind reeling. There’s a catch.
Of course there’s a fucking catch, and it’s a doozy.
The day shift is for the good press of saving Nolan.
And that press is only good because apparently she’s his girlfriend.
Lying to his family is one thing—one horrible, awful, express-lane-straight-to-hell thing—but lying on the news?
That’s a whole other beast. Someone is going to figure it out.
His real girlfriend, or someone he banged the other night, or a friend of his; someone is going to bust this story right open.
And not only will Alice then be well and truly fired, but the Altmans will never forgive her.
Van will never forgive her.
“Uh, Mr., um, Brown, was it?” Van is stepping forward now, reaching out and clasping onto Alice’s elbow like she could tell how quickly Alice was spiraling.
“Of course I want Alice to be recognized for what she did in saving my brother’s life.
But the family would prefer that his name not be used.
To protect our privacy in this difficult time. You understand.”
Oh god. Alice sags into Van, letting Van’s grip hold her up.
She absolutely does not deserve this woman, with her quick brain and steady stare, the way she’s wearing Brown down in a second.
The way she’s leaping to Alice’s defense when Alice most certainly doesn’t deserve it.
Van probably does want privacy for her family, but she also likely saw the color drain from Alice’s face, the way Alice started to sway on her feet, and there she went. Doing that butch superhero thing again.
“Of course,” Brown says, obsequious and deferential. Alice is pretty sure he doesn’t know that Van and the rest of the Altmans aren’t nearly as rich and powerful as Nolan is, and she’s certainly not going to tell him. The longer he’s afraid of them, the longer she has a job. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Great,” Van says. “I’ll look forward to seeing the coverage.” She looks at Alice then, her hand still tight around Alice’s arm. “Drive you home?”
Alice nods, her throat still tight.
They say goodbye to Brown and walk out of the lobby, neither daring to say anything until they’re back in the station wagon, the doors shut behind them.
“Holy shit,” Alice says, blinking quickly. “Did that just happen?”
“Hmm.” Van turns the car on, buckles her seatbelt, and then pulls out into the street. “Did you really just get promoted off the night shift and told you’re going to be locally famous? Yes.”
Alice doesn’t say the other part: Did you just save my ass from public ridicule?
“Let’s celebrate,” Van says, looking over at Alice. “Or, well. I’d say I’ll buy you a drink, but I need to go home and let Frank out.”
Alice should say okay, should say, It’s all right, you can take me home. She should say raincheck. But instead she says, “Do you have drinks at your house?”
Van looks over at her with surprise and something that might be happiness. “I sure do.”
She drives farther north than Alice ever goes, eventually pulling into the driveway of a two-story duplex a few blocks away from a park. Alice gets out, savoring the quiet street until she shuts the car door behind her and she hears a few excited barks from inside the house.
“Hey, Franko,” Van calls as she and Alice walk up the front steps. “I brought you a friend, buddy!”
She unlocks the door but turns to look at Alice before she opens it. “He’s usually good, but he’s been alone for a while today so he might jump up on you.”
“That’s fine,” Alice says quickly. She could definitely use some full-body contact—it’s been years—and if it has to come from a dog again, so be it.
Van opens the door, and indeed a blur of wriggly white fur, whipping tail, and pink tongue launches itself at her and then at Alice.
Alice can’t help but laugh as Van tries to pull Frank off her, but Van can’t get a hand on his collar because he’s so excited about seeing them.
It’s not until he puts both gigantic paws on Alice’s chest and enthusiastically licks her neck that Van grabs him and hauls him backward.
“Get off, Frank. Down. Sit. Frank, sit!”
“Damn,” Alice says, laughing. “He’s so tall.”
Something in Van’s eyes seems to darken and turn predatory as she watches Alice wipe off her throat. It’s a few beats too long before she manages to say, her voice sounding oddly tight, “Yeah, he’s ridiculous.”
After a significant amount of time petting and complimenting Frank, they finally get him to back up enough for them to walk inside.
It’s small and a little cluttered, and it feels like the inside of the station wagon.
Lived in, well used, loved. Completely and utterly Van.
Alice follows Frank into the living room, taking in the big brown couch, the TV mounted over the fireplace, what looks like a handmade wooden coffee table, and an enormous dog bed.
The blue area rug is scattered with chew toys and there’s a big exercise ball in the corner.
She can see out a window to what looks like a sizable, wet, green backyard.
Nothing matches, but it all works perfectly together.
Alice never wants to leave.
“Sorry it’s messy,” Van says, her voice shy.
Alice shakes her head, flopping down on the couch. “This is, like, the best place I’ve ever been.” Frank hops up next to her and immediately sticks his tongue deep into her ear.
Van scoffs, heading into the small kitchen that’s separated from the living room by a half-wall, like they used to be separate rooms but Van HGTV’d it to create a sightline. “You need to go to some better places.”
Alice gets off the couch with a grunt, walking over and placing her hands flat on the countertop dividing the two spaces, staring hard at the back of Van’s head as she rummages in the fridge.
“Van,” she says softly. Van takes a second to respond, freezing for a beat at something in Alice’s tone, or maybe how close she is.
She finally turns, and it’s only when she’s looking right at Alice that Alice says it.
“This is a great place.” She’s careful to speak slowly, to make sure her words have weight to them.
“If I were imagining my dream house, it would look a lot like this.”
Van breaks eye contact, staring down at the can of beer in her hand. “It’s, um…I only live in the downstairs. I rent out the upstairs.”
Alice doesn’t say anything, but her mind is reeling. Van owns it? Alice will never own property in her life, that’s always been very clear to her, and Van is saying this place that she owns, with a backyard and a cozy living room and rental income, isn’t something absolutely incredible?
If her brother weren’t in a coma—and Alice weren’t fake-dating him—she’d try to smack some sense into Van.
Van takes a small step forward, the counter now the only thing between them. “But, um, thank you. I, uh…I worked hard on it.”
Alice grins at her. “Fucking finally,” she says, trying to soften it with a laugh. “Finally something you’re admitting to being proud of.”
Van shrugs one shoulder and Alice almost rolls her eyes. Girl cannot take a compliment.
Alice decides that being chill is overrated. “Van, seriously. You’re a doctor. You own a house and a car. You take care of your parents and your sister. And me.” Alice gives it a quiet beat, watching as Van blinks quickly. “You have the world’s tallest dog.”
That gets a laugh out of Van, albeit a slightly wet one. “I do, yes.”
“You have a lot to be proud of, Van,” Alice says, almost a whisper. “I hope you know that.”
Van presses her lips together, like maybe she’s trying not to smile, or possibly not to cry. She takes a couple of deep breaths and then she looks up, pushing a beer across the counter to Alice. “You and my brother,” Van says softly, her eyes big and serious. “He doesn’t deserve you.”