#as small as those plates of food Carmy was making

[ambeauty]

I’m going to do an overall review of the season later but in the meantime I wanted to give one of the strongest pieces of evidence for SydCarmy. I feel like I’m seeing most of the fandom being a little pessimistic about them and let me just say that I completely understand. Being told all week that they are not romantic and them not being emotionally in sync this season is rough.

However, I completely expected a Sydcarmy breakdown before there was a breakthrough and this entire season was them breaking down. As individuals and as partners. And I don’t wanna get too far into that now. I just want to talk about a blatant parallel between Carmy, his family, and the executive chef at EMP.

We saw in 301 that Carmy defied his EC’s recommendation for fennel one time to use the blood orange sauce that he created. That was his one time to use his own autonomy in a stressful situation. Any other time he followed orders and did what he was told to seek the approval of the toxic and forceful EC. This EC destroyed his confidence and the ability to make decisions on his own and gave him severe trauma. Who does this sound like? Donna Berzatto!!! The one time he did not listen to the EC he created the best meal that Sydney’s ever had and this transpired the rest of the events of the bear.

The current Berzattos have taken the place of the EC. Literally beating Carmy over the head about his relationship with Claire. So much so that he’s romanticizing the relationship in his head. All the while he’s killing himself to get Sydney a star, while pushing her away because the guilt over Claire and the pressure to be excellent is weighing so heavy on him that he can’t see his peace right in front of him. I can give countless examples of the Faks, Richie, Cicero, all pushing Carmy towards Claire but it’s going to be up to him to make that decision. I think he struggles to get in contact with her because he knows that once he’s honest about what it is then he’s going to disappoint his family. And their approval is something that he constantly seeks.

I know seeing Carmy romanticize Claire was hard but it really served a bigger purpose to me. This is idolization based on things others have said not his own realizations of what he wants. He wants closure from Claire but that comes at a price he’s not ready to pay yet.

We shall see what happens!

[loveabledirtbag]

1.02 hands

the tense opening! and how the show expertly swaps the chaotic tension of the beef with the sterile tension of carmy’s restaurant in new york. but it amazes me how even on my millionth rewatch of the show, when joel mchale comes in i go “is that joel mchale? no. it can’t be”, why is jeff winger on the bear? and then he does such a scary good job.

the quick cut from the quiet horror of the new york restaurant to the chaos of the beef is beautifully done, and the fact that carmy is making a burrito is so random and fitting and odd. it just works. carmy has swapped out one shitshow for another, and this one is messier, lower quality, and there’s never a quiet moment. it’s just in your face, all the time, nonstop. but THAT is the place carmy has chosen to be. worth noting.

carmy throwing out the french laundry is his first mistake of the episode. he should know better, especially after specifically not doing it last episode, than to throw out his previous jobs and education to richie, tina, or ebra. “well, go fuck your french laundry. stupid fucking name”. “alright, then at noma-“ “oh, and fuck your noma, too”.

but the back and forth conversation of carmy having noma, and the french laundry on his resume, and richie having gone to devry where they’re “serious about success”, and then the ice cream machine breaks and richie is the one to go fix it (but also by grabbing a bunch of spoons and kitchen utensils, and decidedly NOT actual tools) is on point. and without a missed beat sweeps asks “you graduated?” and richie going “fuck no!” *chefs kiss*

but the class dynamic at play in that scene is gorgeous. because both paths have validity and value in the beef. the ice cream machine breaks and carmy can’t fix it with chef skills. but richie has the skills to fix (or at least he can finagle his way to fixing) the machine. it’s lovely.

the slowdown we see with carmy going outside to smoke, before he goes back to cleaning is nice. the first episode is so break-neck, nonstop intense that having this pause is nice. because it would be impossible to keep up with that pace, and even if it was possible, it wouldn’t be enjoyable to watch.

of course the peaceful and slow scene is followed up by carmy sleep-cooking and almost starting a fire in his apartment when he cooks frozen and wrapped food. it just reminds us that even when he’s away from the (chaotic and nonstop) kitchen, and we the audience get a small reprieve, the show reminds us that chaos can return at any moment.

also, in the scene of carmy at home, the quick meal of peanut butter sandwich, chips, and pop, when he works in a place of great food is so real. when i worked in food, after a long day when i’d come home and be absolutely starving, the last thing i would want to do would be make food for myself. ramen, or just a bunch of lunch meat was a regular meal of mine for YEARS.

i have a lot to say about the scene when sydney comes into carmy’s office to show him her multi-paged research project of ideas to help the bear. and i want to be careful and intentional about how i say this because i know the carmy and sydney debate and subsequent fierce support for each of them is strong and i don’t want to needlessly offend anyone.

BUT as someone who has been on both sides of that conversation, as a passionate employee who has a million ideas for how to fix all the problems of the place where i’m working, and as a manager/operator of a business who has a million things on their plate and can’t quite deal with a million more ideas flying at them (even if those ideas are good) i get it. i really get both sides. sydney is not *annoying* for bombarding carmy with this 30-something page packet of data and ideas. and carmy is not a dick for brushing it off and jumping into something else and leaving sydney in the lurch. sydney didn’t have tact with how and when she came to carmy, who is trying to deal with big picture problems, small picture problems, culture, systems, and a million other issues. sometimes as management you just can’t process anymore. but likewise, carmy could have done a better job of telling sydney that he needed time to process and couldn’t engage in that conversation in that moment. the real issue was a lack of communication, and a misunderstanding of how the other operates. which is something that i think is built upon in season two. i’ve seen so many people defend only carmy, or only sydney. but i think both have their faults in this scene.

you could also argue, however, that carmy as the person in charge with the privilege of ownership, should have done more with his power to communicate what he needed. he’s the example setter for the business and didn’t do a good job showcasing what he needed in the moment.

(also, peep the beginning of the season-long storyline arc: to-go orders and the battle of sleeping on making money from to-gos, and the struggle of figuring out how to manage starting a to-go program)

it’s odd that carmy leaves his office (and sydney) because richie calls out to him “yo, carm!” but then when carmy comes out to see what’s happening richie is the one who says “i can handle this myself cousin. i got this.” like…was that a continuity mistake on the editors/directors part? am i missing something? why draw attention to the issue, and then when the person who’s attention you drew gives you their attention you go, “i don’t want your attention”?

“ron’s gone. gone gone.” “ron’s dead!?” is so funny. i don’t understand people who argue this isn’t a comedy.

the actor who plays nancy chore, chicago board health inspector, is a chicago staple. and i always forget her name.

the biggest thing i have experienced in the service industry when it comes to health inspectors is that if you take richie’s attitude towards them: combative, mistrusting, aggravating; they’re going to suspect you have shit to hide. if you take carmy’s attitude: polite, welcoming, say something along the lines of “feel free to look around, ask me anything if you need me” they’re not going to be as suspicious. don’t fuck with health inspectors…they will fuck back.

ebra and tina taking a smoke break but ebra smoking a BIG ASS cigar, is ICONIC. plus the fact he doesn’t say anything as tina complains to him….we need more ebra. he deserves a spin off. he deserves a movie. i’m in love with ebra.

sydney going right back in with talking to carmy is kind of what i’m talking about. sydney isn’t reading the room and trying to be courteous of where carmy is at. they work in a shithole and a health inspector just came in. carmy probably needs to focus on that, and not on your 30-pages of ideas. however, while carmy is a little blunt, i think he does a decent job of telling sydney that what she’s giving him is a lot with everything else he’s dealing with. highlighted by the immediate shouting of richie…again.

is richie being the one to interrupt sydney and carmy’s conversations about fixing up the beef symbolic? maybe? idk. just a thought.

it’s amazing to me (and again, i know chicago is special and a world unto itself) that a restaurant can have a hole in the tile, with a former gas line next to the stovetops not properly dry-walled and caulked, but clogged with napkins, meaning cross contamination, no hot water in the hand station, AND a pack of cigarettes ontop of the stovetops by the burners and it ONLY results in a C grading? damn.

major props to sydney for getting in between carmy and richie as they get in each others face, ready to beat each other up. that’s some chicago badass behavior right there on her part and i think that’s the moment i fell in love with her.

“you cocked it up, you’re gonna caulk it out” is such an ingenious line and i wish i could have been in the writers room when they came up with that one. same with “surge rates, fucko!” the gold standard of lines.

sydney and richie in his car is just, once again, a chefs kiss of a scene. richie telling sydney she has to wiggle the gear shift, sydney asking richie to hold her purse while she gets ready to drive and him dutifully putting it at his feet. but there’s an automatic nature to how richie does it, that while it may have been ebon moss-bachrach just doing it, i really believe it was an acting choice to show that richie definitely had a wife, before we even see the phone call between him and his ex-wife.

the comment about the multiple arby’s cups being from different visits. god, i love it.

BUT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL detail is the song choice that starts up when the car starts: have you seen me lately, by the counting crows. but not just that, but the live acoustic version. this is a deep cut that ABSOLUTELY was not chosen randomly, but was chosen with precision simply because it’s a song you listen to only when in the depths of despair. richie driving to work and listening to that song is a sign of his internal torment like nothing else we see this season.

richie calling carmy “carmine” is odd. since we know carmy is short for carmen. everyone always says carmen. this is the one instance we hear carmine. is carmen short for carmine, and i’m not aware of it? was it a character choice to say carmine in this instance? was it a mistake that was left in? i wanna know.

gotta respect sydney (for a multitude of reasons, as i’ve said and as i’ll continue to say) that while richie is ranting about how angry he is at carmy, and how stupid carmy is, she says “what does that have to do with what we’re doing? we’re trying to fix the wall. which you fucked up before carmy was even at the restaurant.” like trying to use some therapy 101 of “hmmm…what you’re saying has nothing to do with what’s happening. so, you probably have some deeper issues at play here that you should probably address and work through on your own time.”

ope, uncle jimmy cicero coming in hot with a plot twist of mikey owing jimmy 300 grand. but also, the quick comment of jimmy saying that mikey was “an animal”, which comes into play in season two. a lot of thought went into this show, and you can tell with just every second while watching it.

“i should have stopped by to break your legs”…i would just love to know more about uncle jimmy. i mean obviously he is a prime example of “less is more” with storytelling. we know he’s rich, we know he’s older but has a younger wife and kid (who we’ll meet later), and we also know he makes comments and has conversations around giving people jobs under the table. we can fill in the blanks that he has mob connections, or a criminal network, or something along those lines but we never know exactly what it is upfront. we also don’t know what his day job is. and while i always want more, i love that we’re allowed to just sort of wonder. plus, don’t we all have that relative that we grow up and learn more about and go “ohhhhh. that’s suspicious.”

sydney also trying to come in hot with throwing out some of carmy’s accomplishments to richie, who without surprise still doesn’t give a shit. class struggle right here.

ok. so. the phone call richie gets in the car. this is a master class of storytelling. from the writing to the acting, to the way it was shot. we see richie, being driven around to fix a mistake he made out of his own incompetence. he’s being talked down to by people with skill and talent, of which he seemingly has none. he’s being so obstinate and thick and grating on the audience. and then he gets this call and he picks it up and we see his dirt-caked fingernails, and the distinct shine of his golden wedding ring still on his finger. and we see his pain, and his frustration as he talks to his ex-wife, with these absolutely open and innocent and brilliant blue eyes that softens the hard edges we’ve come to know from him. and then we see that softness actually come out as he talks to his daughter with this mix of pain and heartbreak as it’s so clear she’s his favorite thing in the world, but she asks him if he really loves her. you suddenly know exactly what he’s dealing with outside the restaurant; an ex-wife who is poisoning his daughter against him, even though he clearly isn’t the best example of a stable father and you think his ex probably has a point, and that eats him up because he so clearly wants to be a good dad. and in season two we see how much he wanted to be a good dad. but we’ve also seen so many examples of how he’s not the best example for his daughter. and that all of this happens with sydney right next to him (the worst person in the world to be right next to him). plus he caps it off by saying he fucked up by getting the wrong caulk, AND messed up by leaving his cigarettes on the burner! more on that later. but all of it absolutely makes your heart ACHE for richie, and if it doesn’t you’re a monster. it’s because of the time and care for scenes like this with richie that there is a whole subsection of people who are OBSESSED with richie and love him. despite him being sexist and homophobic.

also, richie calling his 5 year old daughters classmates a bunch of “fuck faces” is an example of ruthless and honest parenting that i am coming to understand more and more each day since my son was born. other kids ARE fuck faces, but my kid is fucking incredible.

i love that we see carmy reading syd’s packet. because it shows he does want to read it. he wasn’t dismissing her for his own egotistical desire to fix everything himself. he truly needed to wait for a moment when he could process everything she was saying, and that moment wasn’t the moment sydney came into his office to talk to him unannounced, but it was later on in the day

oh, pete. i feel like every family has a pete. that person who you know treats your family member well, and loves them, and you know they’re basically a good person…but they just don’t click with the vibe of your family. they’re a little bit too square. they’re off. it’s just too easy to make fun of them. it’s so painfully funny, and honest, and UGH the short conversation between pete and carmy on the phone. pete’s doing nothing wrong and you just wanna be like “pete….shhhhhhhhh.”

it does take real acting skill to have a scene where carmy says “i wanted to apologize for last time…” and pete says “no problem! i went to urgent care and they gave me some stuff to put on it.” and without even knowing the specifics or the context you’re left going “yeah, but pete probably deserved it?” pete is that good at being a loveable schmuck.

carmy admitting to natalie that he sleep walked and almost set fire to his apartment is so good at showing that nat has gone to therapy. and that carmy desperately needs to go as well.

nata saying “shut the fuck up” to carmy, and then pete from another room saying “you want me to shut the fuck up?” to which nat responds “not you, sweetie. you didn’t say anything.” is SO GOOD

“i was throwing up everyday before work” “oh. well that sounds chill” “i kinda dug it.” - a low key theme shown throughout the first season that carmy has an unhealthy attachment to his own pain and suffering (more on that as it happens in the show)

the way that the bear could have been just another show of any infinite number of shows about a fucked up protagonist who’s driving narrative could be resolved if the main character just went to therapy, but never does, because instead the bear says “yeah! carmy needs therapy!” this show is so pro therapy, and i’m excited for more of it as the show progresses in future seasons!

AHHHH richie found a note! addressed to carmy! from mikey! i forget that this episode really sets up the rest of the season! the first episode introduces us to the show, but this episode introduces us to the seasons! there are so many points that we’ll keep coming back to as the show progresses.

also, ebon moss-bachrach committing to, and executing near perfectly, the thick inside chicago accent (as illustrated by his “yeah yeah yeah, i’ll be right dere”) is perfect. i know some people say his accent is borderline offensive as a stereotype, like the accents used in fargo was for minnesotans. but much like the accents from fargo, while not everyone in illinois has richie’s accent, SOME people do. and his use of it is 🤌🤌🤌.

so sydney is on the line, calling out orders as ebra repeats the orders back to her while calling her “chef”. this shows that ebra is now getting on board with the new system, as opposed to mikey’s old system. i only wish we would have seen the transition of ebra accepting this new system. or maybe the point is that ebra is go-with-the-flow enough that as long as he gets to work with his beef, he’s happy.

BUT sydney at the front calling out orders is something we see started in the next episode, where carmy has formally implemented a french brigade system in the kitchen and placed sydney as his sou chef. so why is sydney already acting as his sou in this scene? was this scene shot and intended for a future episode and was cut and moved to fill a hole in this episode? once again, am i missing something? it seems like sydney is doing the thing she’s promoted to do in the next episode, in this episode. except that in the same scene carmy says “thank you for taking richie today”, which could only be talking about sydney taking richie to get caulk right?

richie and carmy talking about how jimmy is getting the health department to come back, despite the health inspector saying she can’t legally come back for 30 days, and just chalking it up to jimmy being jimmy. *another chefs kiss*. i want to know more about jimmy but his beauty is his mystery.

it’s really good storytelling that richie sees the cigarettes on the burner and assumes they’re his. and that everyone assumes they’re his. even though richie, carmy, and tina smoke cigarettes. but it can’t be carmy because he’s the professional, young, hot shot, classical and fine dining trained chef. on top of that, we have this whole episode where you could get the vibe that maybe carmy is ignoring sydney’s suggestions because carmy wants to do it himself, he wants to save the restaurant himself. but then we have a scene where carmy is looking at syd’s packet, before nat tells carm that he might need help, and then carmy hires sydney officially at the restaurant, subtly telling her he’s going to implement some of her ideas. because he said he couldn’t afford to hire her for real, but now he can. carmy is admitting to sydney that he needs her help. and right as he admits to us the audience that he needs help, we realize that it was him who left his cigarette on the burner. he was busy cleaning the restaurant by himself, trying to save and care for it by himself, and he absentmindedly put them on the burner and kept on cleaning. so now we, the audience, really know: carmy, most definitely, needs help. because his talent, his skill, his training, and his schooling aren’t enough to save this restaurant. he needs syd’s passion, and he needs richie hobbling things together cheaply. he can’t do it alone.

and realizing that he really, really needs help leads him to look at nat’s text again: where she’s sent him a link to al-anon. the closest thing to therapy he’s gonna get this season.

Season One: Episode 1 | Episode 3 | Episode 4 | Episode 5 | Episode 6 | Episode 7 | Episode 8

[imagineclaireandjamie]

When discussing what they missed about the 20th century with Brianna Claire mentioned messy cheeseburgers with all the fixings. Can we get a scene of Claire and Bree enjoying the previously mentioned meal together in Boston?

Missing moment in 4x10.

Claire tried like hell not to think of what she had left behind in the twentieth century.

Her daughter. Their daughter.

Plumbing.

Motor vehicles.

Radios.

Cinemas.

Electric kettles.

Furnaces.

Toilet roll.

Tampons and sanitary napkins.

Diner food.

Well-constructed undergarments.

But she could not help her mind from drafting a litany of these things when faced with some ordinary task or another.  

As they attempted to slice a piece of roast pork, she could not help but call to mind the ease with which modern cutlery or an electric knife could accomplish the task.  But she would never say it aloud.

Catching Ian’s curious eye when she unconsciously reached for the tap on a faucet that did not exist over the bowl of dishes at the end of a meal, she smiled, shrugged, concentrated on the washing up.  She never provided an explanation.  

As she doubled over in pain, melting into Jamie’s thumbs as they massaged away cramps, she mumbled a plea for a heating pad and an aspirin.  He made a sound, low but sweet, and continued kneading the muscles.

It had been easy to set aside these conveniences on her first trip to the eighteenth century.  

Adrenaline had coursed through her then as she engaged in a series of machinations to maintain her lie (my-husband-he-is-dead-and-I-am-traveling-to-France-please-pass-the-potatoes), and endeavored to stay alive.  For her safety (her brush with a Scottish witch trial had been more than enough incentive to think fast) and Jamie’s, she had tended to keep outward indicia of her modernity under cover.

However, on her second trip to the eighteenth century, her lips were infinitely looser.  With age, isolation on the Ridge, and the sheer boundlessness of the space around them and from others, she let slip seemingly harmless perks of modern life.  Ian’s fascinated, though sometimes doubtful looks, spurred her on.  Emboldened by her nephew’s thousand mile stare, she described such fantastic things as:

Ice cubes in freezers right in the kitchen, produced with abundance.

Matches, their easy strike along the pad and the tangy, elemental burn of them in the sinuses.

Fans on hot days, maintaining an artificial breeze that could wick sweat from the skin.

Stores with everything imaginable in profane volume – meats and cheeses, pickled vegetables and fresh produce, cans of food for family pets (eyes going wide at the thought of Rollo eating dog food from a tin).

Deodorant in pre-formed sticks or aerosol cans.

Showers with seemingly infinite hot water and soap that smelled like springtime or the ocean or tropical fruits.

Produce all year long.

However, Claire again became more circumspect in her mentioning of these things over time.  

The last thing she wanted was for Jamie to think that she prioritized things and stuff and modern conveniences over her connection with him. After all, he was the bedrock of the epic kind of love that she had returned through time to find. She saw the periodic twitch in his upper lip as he fought the inclination to ask if she wanted to return to her time when they argued, woke cross with one another over some misdemeanor or another, or she cursed hotly about this or that being a bother.

But when Bree appeared on the Ridge, Claire felt a certain freeness in letting slip these small things.  At least to their daughter’s ears.  She was particularly loose about the future and their past when she saw distance unfurl in her daughter’s eyes. All that had happened was an extinguishing Bree’s very life. She could see it in her daughter’s eyes (her husband’s eyes). A pain that had gone bone deep, that she had cause to know intimately. Bree’s mind was meandering on a path far, far away.  

One chilly afternoon shortly after Bree arrived at the Ridge, when the air was not quite crisp enough to make their cheeks sting and go pink, mother and daughter folded linens outdoors.  Then, Claire saw it plain as day in Bree.  The way her daughter’s eyes were weighted, pulled as if by gravity to the task of folding instead of up and into a study of the world around them. After observing her for a series of long moments, Claire made a choice.

To indulge in talk of the home that they had known together.

“Hamburgers,” Claire said plainly, lining the edges of a sheet.  “Messy cheeseburgers. With all the fixings. From Carmie’s.”

Bree looked wistful for a moment before offering, “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Their game went on for only a minute, but the change in Bree at Claire’s acknowledgment of her longing for home was palpable. 

That night as their dinner wound down (candles close to the nub, bellies full, the glow of intoxication apparent in the apples of Jamie’s cheeks), Bree speared one of the fragrant, bulbous canned tomatoes left on her plate. Closing one eye, she held it up to the low, flickering light.  

“This,” she declared. “Only sliced and fresh.  Grilled mushrooms.  Swiss cheese so thick you really have to chew it or it’ll be all down the front of your blouse.”

A breath, closing the other eye then.  

“And caramelized onions that are almost too sweet.” She hummed, low and content. “Mayonnaise. A thick glob right from the giant, mass-produced jar of it.  And a pickle spear. Two of them. I’ll have yours, mom, you always leave it anyway.”

Tilting her head, she opened her eyes and surveyed her audience. 

“French fries. Lots of ketchup with black pepper shaken into it, stirred with the tip of my fork.”

Claire made an ecstatic sound, sinking back into her chair with her mug of water.  “Keep the Swiss and mushrooms, add lettuce and cheddar.”

“The good white cheddar?” Bree inquired. 

Claire grimaced, rolled her eyes. “Of course. Nothing but. And the chips must be extra crispy. I hate soggy fries.”

“Cheeseburgers,” Bree sighed, eyes almost cloudy with food lust.

Jamie looked between his wife and daughter, brow furrowed, before shaking his head.

That night, Jamie took his wife by the waist as she stripped down to her shift, fingers insistent at her hipbones.

“Cheese burr-gurrs?” he asked, voice halting with unfamiliarity at the words being joined together.

Snorting, Claire turned in his arms. She smoothed the ditch of a furrow from between his brows, carefully gathering her encyclopedic explanation. “Ground meat, either seared on a flat top or grilled over a flame.  Bread.  Melted cheese. Ketchup.  Mustard. Mayonnaise…”

(He had tasted mustard. He had heard of course of mayonnaise – cream and eggs, tangy on the finish - but never tasted it. He let slide Bree’s mention of “ketchup” without a request for further elaboration.  He had seen enough of his daughter to know when lightness was acting as a barrier for some other pit of emotion.  He had been there intimately enough to know the purpose of diverting oneself from what really laid beneath meaningless banter over this or that.)

“Eating that kind of diner food… it’s a nostalgia thing for Bree.”

Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Oh, aye?”

“Every time she got a good report card from school with good marks, the two of us would go to a diner down the street from our house.  We would sit at the counter and order cheeseburgers, chips, and ice cream sundaes.”

Claire’s heart skipped a beat before she said what she said next, but she had to say it to put the experience into context for him.

“Frank never came along.  It was our time. We bonded.”

Jamie pushed aside the curls that were acting as a veil over her neck and nestled his face close to her throat. It was as if by absorbing with his lips the vibration of his wife’s words, he would have the memory for himself, feel the nostalgia bubble in his veins at the mention of cheeseburgers.

“Bree would tell me about school, what she wanted to be when she grew up.  It varied significantly over time, of course, as young children are wont to change their young minds.  A pediatrician.  A veterinarian.  A violinist.  A race car driver.  A physicist.  A historian.  When she was older, we talked about her plans for university.”

“Ye think fondly of those times.”  

“I do.” A pause, a breath, her pulse flickering under his mouth. “She talked about boys only once. I told her about the birds and the bees.  She grumbled and rolled her eyes and hissed, insisting she already knew all of it.”

Claire faded away for a moment before Jamie took her chin.  “Those moments are dear to ye, are they no’? Ye’ll no’ ever forget the times with her at the diner with the… cheese-bur-gers.”

Claire could almost taste hot fudge and whipped cream, the cherry on top. She could sense her teeth breaking through the light char of the meat and tongue absorb the grease exploding across her tongue. She could see Bree clutching the yellow slip of paper on which a series of A’s were listed with comments about her meaningful contributions in Social Studies and her thoughtful commentary on a Robert Frost poem in English Literature.  She could feel the chrome of the counter against her bare knees and smell the hot oil.  She could picture Bree.  Her toothy grin, locked down in a cage of orthodontia, and a pimple quietly growing under concealer filched from Claire’s cosmetics bag.

Claire turned and carded her hands into Jamie’s hair, drawing his face close.  She studied him for a time, the blue earnestness in his eyes.  He wanted to know, even if it meant that he would never have those moments.  

“I’ll never forget.”