Work Text:
Jane Perkins fixed her hair in the car mirror, deciding to let her bangs cascade down her face, rather than being pulled back in her ponytail. A swipe of red lipstick accentuated her smile, the type that hardly transferred when she ate dinner or kissed her fiancee.
Slamming the car door shut, she walked into Pasqualli’s. She told the server her reservation and sat at her table. Their table, the one hidden in the corner, lit by flickering candlelight alone. It was 7pm, exactly. Jane skimmed the menu, though she already knew what she wanted, and they hadn’t changed the items since she was in high school. Maybe she had missed something before.
After three minutes, she looked up at the door, catching a flash of red hair. The other woman quickly approached, taking off her puffy winter coat to reveal her sleek black dress, the one always easiest for her to reach in her closet. “I’m so sorry I’m late. A girl had to come in at the end of my shift, just for a couple stitches, so I ran a bit overtime. And the parking here is bananas! Someone in a purple Mazda took the last spot. Now who, I wonder, would have a car like that,” Becky Barnes joked, her smile warming Jane more than the heater circulating hot air around the room, more than the firelight dancing in her eyes.
“Yeah, who would pick out that kind of a car?” she said, smiling. Jane would. She did. They still had the Mustang, but it was too damaged to fix, too painful to drive in. Especially for her son. “Although, let’s remember, the purple was Tim’s choice. I would’ve gone with silver.” That was something she did because of Becky’s advice. They were just friends, at the time, and she said that a kid who had such restricted independence as he now had needed some form of agency. Jane didn’t want to let her control go, after gripping on tightly with two hands, but she had to let Tim put a hand on the wheel. Maybe just a finger.
“Classy,” Becky answered, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I guess you just have to settle for silver jewellery.”
Jane touched her diamond tennis necklace, exactly what she had asked for their fifth anniversary a few months prior. Becky always made her feel heard. “It’s not settling,” she said, studying her fiancee’s features in the dim, flickering light, as she looked at the menu. “What are you thinking of ordering?”
“I could get the chicken parm? Or maybe the beef ragu? Hmm.” It was nice, seeing Becky take her time like this. She had the chance to be as methodical as she liked. “Do you think the penne will be good tonight?”
“Probably. First Monday of the month, so the pasta sauce and the meat will be at their best,” she answered, referring to the pattern she had figured out over their years of dinners together.
“Well, thanks!” Beckoning a waiter over, Becky placed their order for a chicken salad and a penne, as Jane handed over their menus. Once the teenager walked away, she rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. “So, how was your day?”
There was only so much either of them could legally share about work, thanks to the privacy laws neither of them were willing to break. Especially in a small town, they couldn’t risk their patients’ sense of safety. “Pretty good. Only one of my patients cursed at me today and, with what they told me, I can’t say I blame them.”
“Only one? That’s fewer than I got today.”
“Highschoolers?”
“Preteens, actually,” Becky noted. Of course. “Did the heater in your office get fixed? That was supposed to happen today, wasn’t it?”
“It was meant to happen, but Max - you know, the receptionist - cancelled the electrician! I know he’s still young and learning and all, but I thought I’d be able to stop wearing three sweaters under my blazer. Makes me look all frumpy,” she said. The heater had been broken all January, and Jane didn’t exactly run hot naturally.
Becky leaned forward, tilting her head to one side. “I think you look amazing no matter what you wear.”
“Thank you,” Jane said, a warm sense of comfort spreading through her body. “But it’s not just about me. The patients always seem more guarded when they’re uncomfortable. We studied it when I was in college; excessive physical pain or discomfort limits healthy emotional vulnerability.”
“Would you say they’re more… icy?”
It was a terrible joke, but Jane’s shoulders couldn’t help but move. “I wouldn’t say that, no. But I liked hearing it.”
“You can just call me Jacqueline Frost,” Becky said, lifting her shoulder in a confident pose. It was a reference to Santa Claus Is Goin’ To High School. Was it a good movie? By no means. The plot was complete nonsense, and, if she was being honest with herself, a little gross with two 18-year-old girls being in a love triangle with an immortal Santa Claus. That said, she liked watching that sort of silly, childish musical, even once Tim had grown out of it. People had fun, people were kind, and people were safe. They always had a happily ever after.
Jane laughed, keeping her gaze on her beautiful, smiling fiancee. She was so fucking lucky. Despite everything that happened before, they came together. “How was your day?”
“You know, it was great! Busy, but there were a lot of outgoing patients today. Bridgette’s been recovering really well, and I’m so happy about that. She’s growing into a really lovely young woman, and I hope she gets to do whatever she wants to do as she grows up,” Becky said. Her words were hopeful, but a touch of sadness coloured her words. A bad memory.
Reaching for her hands, calloused with the scent of lavender moisturiser, Jane interlocked their fingers. Becky squeezed her in return, as she rubbed the back of her hands with her thumbs. “She will. Because of you.”
“I hope so,” she answered, sighing, the tension in her shoulders tumbling down.
Before they had too much time to fixate, their orders arrived. Pasqualli’s on a Monday night always had fast service, it was part of the reason why they went there so frequently on their date nights.
As they began eating, a conversation Jane had during her break popped into her head, something she knew could make Becky smile. “Do you wanna know what I heard about Linda Monroe?” While Jane and Linda had been friends in college, the latter continued to be a bitter and resentful person as they aged, growing cruel and harsh. Once Jane found out what she had said about Becky over the years, she had a reason to permanently separate herself.
“Jane, we’re not in high school anymore,” she answered, before taking a bite of food. Jane studied her face as she swallowed, as she chased her pasta with a sip of water. “Okay, what is it?”
“Apparently, she made an embarrassment of herself at the last Hatchetfield Boating Society meeting and is no longer president. They’re reconsidering her membership. At best, it was a tirade towards the caterers. At worst, she shoved a plate of canapés in the head chef’s face.”
Sighing, Becky shook her head. “Knowing Linda, it’s probably somewhere in the middle.”
“After being friends with her for as many years as I was, I bet it’s somewhere at the more extreme end,” she said, delivering a forkful of salad to her mouth.
A cheeky glint came into Becky’s eye, enhanced by the candlelight reflected in her pupils. “You bet?”
“I do,” Jane smiled. “Do you?”
“She has to have some level of, I don’t know, self-control. Two of her kids are in high school!”
“And how many times have they visited you in the hospital?”
“Too many. Way too many. Her son, Trent, came in for a fractured wrist after punching a classmate too hard. Twice! This year!”
“I wish those kids went to fucking Clivesdale,” Jane said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Not just because of the hope that Tim wouldn’t get assaulted by a Monroe child at school, but also because then at least Linda would be where she belonged.
“Hey! They’re kids! They can still improve. Linda on the other hand…”
They continued on with dinner, talking about Linda Monroe, and work, and the future, and everything. Jane loved hearing the melodious song of Becky’s voice, even more than she loved watching her sparkling eyes as she listened to her. The hours went by like seconds, nothing as long as it should have been. They loved each other. It was good.