#this is a grown adult woman old enough to be the doctor's companion and she was born in the same year as my little sister

[underwhelmingalchemist]

Ruby: I was born in 2004 and-

Me, able to hear the dice in my head rolling for psychic damage: H u h

[jxndds]

isekai/reincarnation manhwas

Beatrice

Having previously been a slave in her youth, Chloe was revealed to be an illegitimate child of the King of Elpasa, and is raised to the level of a Princess and renamed Beatrice, all in order to secure a political marriage to a toady man, as the king was unwilling to marry his legitimate daughters to him. After two years of hellish marriage, the Kingdom of Elpasa falls before the blade of the Empire's Archduke, its greatest hero. In order to survive her new enslavement Princess Beatrice re-assumes the guise of 'Chloe' as a slave of the Empire. But then, she catches the eye of that very same hero...

The Archduke wonders who is this squirrelly short-haired young woman, who is so surprisingly educated for a slave, and who is terrified of him, not knowing that he butchered the Elpasa Royal Family in front of her and enslaved her himself. What will become of them, since she proves to be one of his only sources of levity?

 Beware of the Villainess

I became the villainess of a novel! Do I hate it? No! I find it rather nice. A duke’s daughter = a jobless rich person. How I can miss out on a chance like this?! This is the best chance to just enjoy life. I should throw out the main plot and just live life how I want to! Not long after waking up as the villainess, I witnessed my fiancé, the novel’s male lead, the crowned prince, cheating. I saw him embrace a lady other than I and he was smiling so bright. I was brought to tears… Just kidding, I didn’t cry! My tears are worth too much to be wasted on that garbage. Instead of tears, I yelled out, “Your highness, are you trash?” The main character with a personality of a refreshing soda! The girl-crush protagonist that will completely throw out the main story! Why? Because it’s a waste for a girl to be surrounded by cheap cars. (cars = men)

 Death is the Only Ending for the Villainess

Penelope Eckart reincarnated as the adopted daughter of Duke Eckart and the villainess of a reverse harem dating sim. The problem is, she entered the game at its hardest difficulty, and no matter what she does, death awaits her at every ending! Before the "real daughter" of Duke Eckart appears, she must choose one of the male leads and reach a happy ending in order to survive. But the two brothers always pick a fight with her over every little thing, as well as a crazy crown prince, whose routes all lead to death. There's even a magician who's enamoured with the female lead, and a loyal slave knight! But somehow, the favourability meters of the male leads increase the more she crosses the line with them!

 Doctor Elise

Song Ji Hyeon is a surgeon, as well as a genius doctor appointed as the youngest lecturer at Seoul University. She carries memories of a previous life as Elise De Clorence who lived as a wicked woman. Suddenly an unexpected accident occurs and when she wakes up, she's back in her previous life?! Will Elise be able to correct her past mistakes?

 Empress of Another World

Crossing over into another world and time after a freak accident, Korean highschool girl Sabina is taken in by a duke of the Crentia kingdom— only to soon be offered up to the ugly old emperor as a concubine. When the king is killed by a mysterious assassin, Sabina must face the poisonous circle of other candidates in a battle for the royal seat. Can she attract the loyalty and affection of the men and women she needs on her side to survive?

 I Am a Child Of This House

"Pink Eyes", a young girl, has lived a life filled with battery and abuse by her mother, but she has two unexpected factors that may play a role in her life: first, she has gained memories of her previous life as Seo Young, a 23 year-old Korean woman, and second, she is a nobleman's illegitimate daughter.

One day, her prostitute mother takes her to the empire's sole Duke and claims that the girl is his child to gain alimony from him. Although he seems to not believe her, he nevertheless buys "Pink Eyes" for 20,000 gold. With that, her new life as "Estelle" starts.

But what truly awaits her? And is she really a child of this house?

 I Became The Emperor's Daughter One Day

A car accident allowed her to cross the magical world, she was reincarnated to a baby! She participated in a competition and won. Then, she was adopted by the emperor and became a princess. However, the other adopted princesses are all given with luxury treatment. But why is it that only she lives in small firewood house? She is also beaten and bullied by the other princesses? She will do whatever it takes to fight back. When she shows a brave fighting spirit, the cold-blooded emperor finally came and said to her: "This little brat, is a little interesting."

 I Became the Villain's Mother

I became the mother of 'Ainspanner', who was presumed to be the final mastermind of this novel. I was supposed to be a bad stepmother who abused him when he was a child and eventually became the first to be killed by him when he became an adult.

I was thinking of a plan to escape my tragic fate when I saw the young future villain and the naive, innocent look on his face. However...

"What an adorable child! He’s so cute I want to bite him! How could anyone abuse him?"

He was so cute that I couldn’t believe he would become a villain when he grew up. So, I decided. I will protect him. This way, he’ll save me too when he’s all grown up.

 I Choose the Emperor Ending

Obsessed with medieval fantasies, Marina develops a revolutionary VR device that can bring fictional worlds to life. Her dreams come true when she transports herself to Lasnorok, the setting of her own novel. The problem is, she can't get back out! Disguised as a runaway slave boy named Rino, she comes face-to-face with the main character she created, the ambitious Edward Allen Dihas. Can Marina help him overthrow the emperor and survive to make it out alive?

 I don't want to be Empress [Empress? Empress!]

I don’t want to be the empress! Serena, the daughter of a noble is full of intelligence, status and appearance. But the truth is that she said that in her past life she was aware of the tragedies that could occur in the future. It will be that Serena can escape from this tragedy!

 Inso's Law

“I just want to live a normal life, why is this happening to me!”

Your average student Ham Dan, whose hobby was reading “Law of Inso” wakes up to a beautiful novel like heroine. But even in the world of fantasy novels, her role is no different. Stuck as the childhood friend of the heroine, her normal everyday life comes to an end, becoming more twisted by her strong character.

 Seduce the Villain's Father

Upon opening my eyes after a bus accident, I found myself in the fantasy world of a webnovel I enjoyed reading... the only catch is, I reincarnated 20 years before the novel begins! Reborn as Princess Yerenica of the small Lebovny kingdom, I'm determined to change the future in order to prevent the series of unfortunate events that will soon occur.

In the original story, my older sister, Tejavia, is pregnant with the future female lead, when she's suddenly kidnapped by the Belgoat Empire's emperor. But in my desperate attempts to protect her, I got kidnapped instead! And as if that wasn't bad enough, my body is ridiculously weak to magic. But... strangely enough, whenever I'm by the emperor, I feel fine!

The only way to save the emperor, who's destined to die at the hands of his own son after marrying the villainess, and save myself from being afflicted by magic... is for us to marry!

 Sincerely: I Became a Duke's Maid

I woke up one day inside the story of a novel as the maid of the disgraced Duke and side character, Alejandro Quillo Vel Laviti. Will Alejandro’s fate change with the my appearance as a new ‘extra’ character? What is the truth behind his cursed mark?

 Suddenly Became A Princess One Day [Who Made Me A Princess]

When I opened my eyes, I was a princess!

But why does it have to be a princess in this romance novel who has the fate of death from her own blood-related father!

If I want to live, I will have to stay away completely of his sight. However...

"Since when did this kind of scumbag started living in my castle?"

Not a single drop of blood nor tear to drop, that cruel and cold emperor, Claude!

Will Athanasia who has entered his eyes survive?

"I... What should I do..."

 Survive as the Hero's Wife

The protagonist has been reincarnated as Canaria, the villain of a popular cliché novel. According to the novel, she is destined to be executed by her husband! Determined to survive, her objective is simple: get a divorce! Will her plans be enough to save her life, or will unexpected circumstances arise to complicate matters even further?

 The Emperor's Companion

After making a deal with God, she is reincarnated into a new world fully ready to dedicate her life to her younger sibling. However, things aren't so simple when she attracts the attention of the Emperor. Can't a girl just look after her sibling with no man?

 The Emperor's Daughter [Daughter of the Emperor]

Ariadna Lereg Ilestri Pre Agrigent. And so my life begins with this ridiculously long name, born to royalty and the centre of attention — all because of one dangerous man; the veritably insane tyrant king, ruthless conqueror of ten empires, nightmare of all continents… and my father?! Will I be able to survive this maniac?

 The Evil Lady's Hero

Yunifer Magnolia was the best friend of the novel's heroine, Rael Cania, until her love for the male lead turned her into a villainess. Her harassment of Rael, Ishid's lover, condemned her to death at the hands of Cassian, the Crown Prince.

"So I reincarnated as... Yunifer?!"

This Yunifer wants to live, though! To stay safe, she decides to avoid all the main characters of the novel. But one drunken encounter with Ishid ruins all her plans...

"I don't do one-night stands."

"Then let's say we just started dating!"

Will Yunifer be able to correct her own twisted fate? Or will she face death once more, as foretold by the novel?

 The Golden-Haired Elementalist

I thought I was dead, but when I woke up, I was reincarnated as a nobleman's daughter?! The only thing I did in the seventeen years of my first life was studying. Now that I'm alive again, I won't live just to study! The second life of an ordinary middle school girl with a slightly strange personality, Jeanie Crowell, begins an unstoppable journey on this continent!

 The Justice of Villainous Woman

With a broken heart, Hwayoung falls headfirst into the river by accident but wakes up as infamous villainess Satiana Altisee Kaylon. Coming to terms with her new life as sole daughter of House Kaylon, Satiana is soon chosen as a candidate for the next empress! In the palace full of schemers and liars, she must become a cold-blooded villainess to win her royal seat by the crown prince - or her new family will face grave danger! Will being perfectly evil really be enough? ‘Cause even villains need love!

 The Pet of the Villainess [The Antagonist's Pet]

"My dear villainess, do whatever you want to do. Just don't see that son of a bitch."

A girl dies and is reincarnated as Sasha, the daughter of a poor noble family in a romance novel she used to read. To survive in her new life, she approaches noble ladies with her innocent appearance and cold wit. Hence, she got the nickname 'The Nobles' Pet.'

Rebecca, the villainess of the original work and the Prince's fiancee, appears in front of Sasha, who's using her talent to live the sweet life. Knowing the end of the original, Sasha tried to stay away from Rebecca, but she cannot take her eyes off her cool and collectedness! So Sasha uses her cuteness as a deadly weapon to stand between Rebecca and the womanizer Crown Prince... and... can Sasha survive and win Rebecca's favor?

 The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion

Poisoned to death by her own betrothed?! Eunha didn’t wake up in a novel’s story just to get killed off again as an unfortunate extra! To change her story she needs a cover… 6 months pretending to be the fake fiancée of the novel's male protagonist, Duke Noah Wynknight. But will this cold-hearted, angel-faced demon of a man really help her avoid another ill-fated ending?!

 The Youngest Princess

The archmage who ruled over a magic kingdom.

One day, she was reborn as the youngest daughter of the empire!

“I’ll just play along and pretend to be a baby.

...But don’t you think you guys like me a little too much?”

They won’t leave her alone.

 This Is an Obvious Fraudulent Marriage

The Sophen country had been destroyed by the empire. The sole daughter of a count family, Leylin Efran, had to find a husband to be able to inherit her family. So she wouldn't have to suffer through loveless marriage, Leylin decided to find a husband to have a one-year contract marriage with. In the middle of her quest, a young and dashing man appeared before her. Leylin was convinced this is the right man for her, but is he truly the answer to Leylin's perilous situation?

 Villainous Princess

One day I woke up in the body of Violet, the villainess character of the novel "For Shannon." Violet had a beautiful face, wealth, and was even a princess! She was a woman who had almost everything but her life was ruined when she chased after the one thing she didn't have - love. Now that I'm her, I can change her fate because I don't need love!

[alwaysmychoices]

“A Day with Dr. Ramsey”

Synopsis: After waking up in Dr. Ramsey’s apartment after a series of drunk texts, Charlie and Ethan spend the day with Naveen on the river...

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlie Greene)

Choices Story: Open Heart 

Rating: Teen (Charlie enjoys cussing. Don’t @ me). 

Words: 5099 (buckle up, y’all)

Part 2 of “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey” 

part 1: drunk texts - part 2: a day with dr. ramsey - part 3: unspoken - part 4: in the morning light - part 5: brunch - part 6: the library -  part 7: the cure - part 8: the celebration - part 9: goodbye

There were no embarrassing t-shirts. No “Turkey Trot 5K”s or “World’s Okayest Doctor.” The best Charlie found was an old medical school t-shirt, and Ethan could see the disappointment on her face when she returned wearing a plain grey t-shirt from his closet.

“Any luck with embarrassing t-shirts?” Ethan mused, already dressed for the day.

“You hid them, didn’t you?” Charlie narrowed her eyes, her dedication so comical that Ethan wished he could have offered a confession.

“I gave them to Jenner as chew toys,” Ethan retorted, and he watched as Charlie struggled not to show the smile forming on her lips. In that moment, he decided that of all of the Charlie expressions he’d seen, that was his favorite. The way she bit back a smile and swallowed her laughter, eyes shining with amusement, made his world stop. She was so happy then, and she tried so hard to maintain her aloof sense of sarcasm just to make their banter last longer. She wanted to keep talking with him, to keep having fun with him.  He never knew he needed such validation until he met Charlie, but now, he couldn’t get enough.

“Walking through your closet was like looking through a catalog for respectable men in their thirties,” Charlie had to walk past him to reach the coffee he’d made for her while she was in the shower, and in the process, Ethan caught a waft of his body wash on her skin. For a moment, the sensation overwhelmed him. Before, Ethan had no idea that he would be so intoxicated by Charlie brandishing his scent, but now, he couldn’t help but think of every possible way to make sure it happened again.

Charlie watched him, unaware as to why he suddenly seemed so dumbfounded, and she sipped at her coffee, waiting for him to say something in return.

“Apparently, I am so far gone that I can’t even recognize the insult in that statement,” Ramsey forced the words out of his mouth, taking a large gulp of his caffeinated beverage to forget all of the scenes now playing in his head.

“Ethan, I saw a sweater vest in there. It was a nightmare,” Charlie shook her head as if she was disappointed.

“My closet is starting to feel very attacked,” Ethan found himself smiling and could only imagine what he must have looked like, grinning like a fool and practically drooling over a woman in his t-shirt.

“Your choice of shampoo, however,” Charlie nodded approvingly, “If I’d known your hair smelled that amazing this whole time, I probably would have spent every day just smelling you.”

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle, “I can tell you found your tour through my bedroom very enlightening.”

Charlie blushed, trying to conceal the spreading redness by hiding behind her coffee cup. Did she really just say that she’d like to smell him all day? It took all of her energy not to physically grimace, and she tried to divert his attention by mumbling, “Thank you, by the way.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, and Charlie went on to explain, “For letting me clean up and not look like a walking hangover for the rest of the day.”

“Consider it a public service,” Ethan teased.

“I had no idea you were so charitable, Dr. Ramsey,” Charlie was smiling again, and Ethan practically had a physical reaction to it. It was as if simply flashing her teeth in a sign of approval could relieve the tension in his body and produce a brief euphoria, momentarily rendering him unable to do anything but smile back at her.

If he could bottle the feeling he had when he saw Charlie smile, Ethan Ramsey would have destroyed a whole sector of the drug market.

This wasn’t the first time Ethan noticed that he was affected by Dr. Greene, and he was long past his days of denial. To not recognize the enigmatic influence of Greene would be senseless at this point. It was one thing when she was the intriguing intern. In his years at Edenbrook, he’d seen many charming interns pass through the halls, but none had been of consequence.

There was something different about Charlie – something he’d never seen before. When he looked through her records, he knew she’d be a competent if not accomplished doctor, and he appropriately advocated for her match at Edenbrook. Ethan anticipated the possibility of mentoring the promising, young doctor, and he acknowledged the associated emotional connection that accompanies mentorship. But this… This was more than Ethan could have imagined.

This was consuming and overwhelming and warm and terrifying, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake Charlotte Greene.

Ethan Ramsey had never felt like this before, and he was surprised by the amount of terror he felt. How could one person affect him so much in such a short amount of time? And why, out of hundreds of thousands of people in Boston, did it have to be her? A bright, promising intern whose career could be ruined by his unchecked affection. And why couldn’t he leave her alone?

“Ethan?” Charlie asked, surprised by his apparent silence, and Ethan’s head snapped up, thankful to be forced from his train of thought.

“Sorry, a little tired,” Ethan lied. It was an obvious lie, but if Charlie realized, she didn’t let on.

“I’m sure chasing a drunk girl across Boston was exhausting,” Charlie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She still remembered nothing from the night before, but if her texts were any indication, she had a lot to be embarrassed about. “Dr. Sexy” was horrifying enough, but that was just the tip of the iceberg to how she felt about him. What hole had she dug herself into, and did she even want to ask?

“It was worth it.” That was honest, and Charlie could see it in his face.

She was smiling again, unable to contain a sudden warmth spreading through her body as her heart briefly fluttered from the idea that Dr. Ramsey thought she was worth it.

Dr. Ramsey turned Charlie into a lovesick schoolgirl, and it was mortifying. Charlotte Greene was a highly-educated adult woman. She was passed the days of doodling “Mrs. Ramsey” in her notebook in class, but just a few moments with Ethan transformed her into a sentimental fool. And it didn’t make it any easier that she couldn’t crack him. He was the one man she couldn’t diagnose. She couldn’t see past his emotional walls and deflecting behavior, and every lingering glance or surprising display of affection confused her more. Who was Ethan Ramsey, and was he as pathetically in love as she was?

“I haven’t seen Jenner much this morning,” Charlie briefly bit on her lower lip, and Ethan was so distracted he almost couldn’t respond.

“Oh… he’s in bed, I think.”

“Really?” Charlie laughed, “I assumed that living with you would make him a morning puppy.”

“He braves mornings for me but sleeps as soon as he can afterward,” Ethan beamed as he talked about his dog. After years alone, Jenner had been a constant companion, and he gave Ethan something outside of work to keep him grounded, “I’m sure he’s especially tired after staying up with you most of the night.”

“He stayed with me?” Charlie’s expression was suddenly full of childlike excitement.

“Right up until you woke up. He likes you,” Ethan couldn’t pretend to be surprised. Who didn’t love Charlie? He sure as hell did.

Charlie leaned onto the kitchen island, holding her coffee cup to her lips with a wistful smile, “I am determined to become your dog’s best friend.”

Ethan choked on his coffee with laughter, amused by the suggestion but not at all surprised by the statement. Of course, Charlie would want to befriend his dog.

For a moment, Ethan was drawn into a fantasy of life with Charlie… Morning coffee, walking through the park with Jenner in tow, coming home to see someone he loved in the other side of his bed.

No. You can’t do that to yourself.

Ethan forced the image out of his mind. It would only do more harm than good.

“We should probably leave soon if we want to avoid traffic,” Ethan stood suddenly, finishing his coffee and looking for his car keys to distract himself.

Charlie was confused about his sudden shift in behavior, but she shrugged it off, similarly finishing her coffee and holding up a leash from a kitchen drawer.

“Can Jenner come?”

The drive to Naveen’s home was littered with occasional small talk and frequent changes in the radio station, much to Ethan’s chagrin. Though he knew the way, Ethan quickly recognized that Charlie needed something to do, and he turned over all navigation to her. He found that, though a competent doctor, her directions were insufficient, and had he not been confident in his path, he would have grown irritated with her. But instead, he found humor in her sudden gasps of “oh shit, turn right!” and “fuck, it says we should have turned there.”

Undoubtedly, Jenner enjoyed the drive the most. Somehow, he weaseled out of the backseat and settled comfortably in Charlie’s lap, and for a moment, Ethan couldn’t tell who was more smitten with Charlie – him or his dog.

“And we should be… here…” Charlie leaned forward in her seat, making Jenner shift, to look for a sign that we had arrived. Instead, she was greeted with an apparent wall of trees, “What the…?”

At this point, Ethan decided to relieve her of her navigational duties and drove towards a break in the trees. He found the small, hidden drive. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Charlie’s expression fill with amazement and curiosity. After a minute or so of wandering down the drive, Naveen’s river house appeared, and Ethan could see his mentor pouring over an easel on the dock.

Naveen looked so… frail yet at ease. He’d embraced his death sentence with a friendly smile and resigned to spend his final moments only doing things he enjoyed. Ethan offered to stay with him at the river, offering companionship and medical care as his health deteriorated, but Naveen refused. In his last days, he wanted Ethan to be family, not his doctor, and he wanted memories to be fond, not burdened by the daily care of a patient.

Even now, the pain on Ethan’s face was apparent, and Charlie instinctively reached for him, placing her hand on his arm and giving him a gentle squeeze.

Ethan was surprised, and as he looked over to Charlie, she gave him a gentle smile that left little room for talk.

He didn’t need to say that he was sad. She already knew that. And she didn’t need to tell him that she was here to support him because she’d already shown him.

When Ethan’s car pulled into park, there was silence. Charlie’s eyes never left Ethan, waiting for a sign that he was ready to get out of the car and face his dying father figure. She never rushed him, instead offering her hand on top of his. She was gentle, unsure if he would accept the sign of support, but to her surprise, he laced his fingers through hers and squeezed tightly.

“Are you okay?” her whisper was soft and concerned.

Ethan considered her question for a moment before nodding his head, “Yeah… Thank you, Rookie.”

He hadn’t realized that he used the nickname, and it was the first time he heard the level of affection he placed in it. Had he always sounded so enamored?

Charlie let out a gentle chuckle. It had been a long time since she’d heard that, and she never thought she’d be so happy to hear it.

“Come on, Jenner wants to say hello,” Charlie placed a gentle kiss on Jenner’s head, and he practically turned to mush. Charlie leashed Jenner before opening the door, and Jenner happily stuck by her side as they got out of the car and made their way to the dock.

Naveen saw Ethan first and waved enthusiastically, abandoning his painting and walking towards his former colleague. Even from a distance, Naveen saw a change in his friend. Sleepless nights and scotch had aged him since leaving the hospital, and a sense of finality followed him. Failure was not a good look for his dear friend, and it pained Naveen to think of leaving Ethan behind when he was in such a poor state…

“There you are! I was beginning to worry. You’re always punctual,” Naveen called out to Ethan, but as he got closer, the answer to his friend’s tardiness revealed itself.

Dr. Charlotte Green appeared from behind Ethan with Jenner in tow. Even as she smiled and waved, it was evident that she stood by Ethan’s side. It was as if she and Jenner had formed a silent attachment to protect their pained friend, and suddenly, Naveen wasn’t so worried about leaving Ethan alone in the world.

“Dr. Greene!” Naveen greeted her warmly, occasionally glancing at Ethan as if trying to confirm the obvious. Now that she was closer, Naveen found clues that she’d spent the night with Ethan, and he began to wonder how long Ethan had guarded such a secret from him.

“Please, call me Charlie,” she smiled, seemingly oblivious to Naveen’s assumption that they’d slept together, “I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along, Dr. Banerji.”

“Of course, I don’t mind! You were once one of my only companions in Edenbrook, and for that, I consider you a friend,” Naveen was sincere. Like Ethan, he saw something special in the young intern, and had his health permitted, he would have liked to form a friendship with Dr. Greene. He imagined that, by the way Ethan looked at her, she would have quickly become an significant element in both of their lives. “I am now a retired man. Call me Naveen, Charlie.”

“Thank you, Dr-“ Charlie stopped herself, “Naveen.”

Naveen smiled and pulled her into an unexpected hug that Charlie happily reciprocated. And for a moment, Charlie reverted back to her med school daydreaming and almost pinched herself when she realized the famed Dr. Banerji was hugging her.

In his embrace, Charlie could see how Ethan adored Naveen so. If anyone could feel like an intern’s medical school grandpa, it was Dr. Banerji. In his retirement, he’d abandoned his white coat for a warm sweater vest that smelled of acrylic paint, aftershave, and peppermint candies. His roaring laughter warmed anyone who heard it, and his gentle, attentive smile demonstrated his genuine affection.

Charlie bit back an oncoming wave of sadness as she remembered that this wonderful, tender man was dying.

When Naveen released her, he caught a flash of the pain in her expression, but she quickly returned to a polite smile as Naveen invited the two for coffee in the kitchen. Jenner, excited by a few ducks in his view, hurried and forced Charlie a few paces ahead of Naveen and Ethan.

With a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, Naveen looked at his friend with a telling smile.

“She’s wearing your shirt, Ethan,” Naveen didn’t have to specify the obvious insinuation.

“She slept in my guest room,” Ethan grumbled, somewhat embarrassed by Naveen’s excitement.

“Ah, but you brought her here this morning,” Naveen was satisfied that his young friend had not yet accepted what was very obvious to him.

When Naveen received the news of his impending death, he mourned the life he lost. He mourned the patients he could no longer save, the world he could no longer serve, and the people he could no longer love. But more than any other, he mourned the years he would miss of Ethan’s life. He regretted that, in their years of companionship, he had never seen Ethan fall in love. Ethan’s life had been a series of carefully planned decisions, each furthering his illustrious career and cementing his success, but in all of his deliberate choices, he had never made one to love someone. Once, Ethan came very, very close, but that chapter had been closed a long time ago.

In all of those years, Naveen had never seen Ethan look at anyone like he looked at Charlotte Greene, and Naveen was filled with hope for the two. But the warm hope was followed by sadness that Naveen didn’t get to see how their story ended.

Naveen’s home, much like his apartment in the city, was filled with books. Most were medical, and a few had been written by himself. There were classics and popular titles mixed in at random, most of which Naveen had never read but purchased to read “someday.” And with his days now numbered, he’d pulled them off the shelves and stacked them on various end tables, occasionally picking one up and switching at random. There were fishing rods and unfinished paintings littering Naveen’s living room, and Charlie spotted several unused golf clubs in the corner. Naveen dedicated his remaining time to his various passions in life – all but one. He could never satisfy the burning curiosity that evaded deduction, and he resigned himself to let go of the final mystery of his diagnosis.

Charlie noted that the medical books were not pulled out, and she felt a wave of surprise. Until now, she’d never believed that Dr. Banerji had really given up.

“Coffee?” Naveen offered, already preparing a cup as he had never known Ethan to reject such a proposal. As he poured a second cup for himself, he noticed that Charlie’s eyes had settled on his fishing rod.

“Do you fish, Charlie?”

Charlie nearly jumped, surprised by the question.

“When I was a kid,” Charlie admitted with a sheepish smile, “It was my grandfather’s favorite pastime.”

“Ah,” Naveen broke out in a wide grin, “Ethan won’t fish with me!”

“You won’t fish?” Charlie raised an eyebrow at Ethan, “I thought you’d do anything to avoid small talk.”

I knew I liked her, Naveen thought to himself.

“Even I have limits, Rookie.”

Naveen couldn’t contain his smile as he watched the two and proudly brandished it when Ethan looked back at him, much to Ethan’s embarrassment and Naveen’s amusement.

“As your Grandmentor, I’d be honored if you joined me on the dock. Who knows? You might even be the missing ingredient to get Ethan to fish after all these years,” Naveen took a sip of his coffee, happy with himself for putting his mentee on the spot and daring him to say no to her.

And if Ethan thought it was hard enough to say no to Charlotte Greene, he certainly couldn’t do it now.

“To satisfy an old friend, I will consent to a boring pastime,” Ethan agreed, and he could see the words hiding behind Naveen’s smile: You’re doing it for her.

That day, the river echoed the laughter coming from Dr. Banerji’s dock.

The three doctors spent some time seriously baiting fish on the river, even catching a few that Banerji insisted they would cook later that night, but the seriousness of the pursuit quickly evaporated. Banerji and Greene were first to laugh, though they both tried to stop in fear of “scaring the fish away.” However, a competition developed in which they all tried to contain laughter as Banerji and Greene told jokes. Ramsey, unsurprisingly, was the obvious victor, and while Banerji and Greene dissolved into fits of laughter, they worked together to earn his laughter.

In the end, it was Charlie who won, and once the competition had been decided, they moved onto another activity. While putting away their gear, Charlie stumbled upon Banerji’s latest unfinished painting. It only took one compliment of his work for Banerji to light up, and he handed her an easel, offering to teach her a few tricks. This time, Ethan resisted their requests for him to join, and instead, he and Jenner offered to judge when they were done.

Charlie painted terribly, but Banerji wasn’t much better.

It wasn’t long before Dr. Greene and Dr. Banerji were thick as thieves. She trusted and adored him instantly, and Banerji reciprocated. She was a lovely young woman, but even if she hadn’t been, her affection for Ethan was enough to make him appreciate her.

At some point, Ethan meandered back to the house where he picked up a stray book from the growing collection of titles on Naveen’s coffee table, and he watched the two paint through the expansive windows, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen him so happy…” Naveen’s words were soft enough to almost be lost in the passing breeze, but they caught Charlie’s attention with a jolt of surprise.

Charlie looked at the man beside her, a sad smile on her lips, “He’s in a lot of pain.”

She didn’t waste time pretending that she didn’t know what he was talking about or acting surprised at the implication of his words. They both knew what this looked like, and Charlie was not skilled enough to hide the obvious way she felt about her teacher. To deny it was to waste the short time Naveen had left, and he was the only person in the world she felt she could talk about it with.

Naveen nodded thoughtfully, “Will you be there for him when I am not?”

“I don’t know if he’ll let me,” Charlie admitted with shame in her voice. A dying man was asking her to care for his loved one, and she wasn’t even sure she could complete her request.

Naveen chuckled, “Ethan may hold you at arm’s length, but he’s never let you go, has he?”

Charlie thought back to his time away from Edenbrook, all of the texts she’d almost sent and all of the days she’d hoped he would reach out. He’d never felt so far away from her, and it pained her more than she expected. But one drunk text, and now she was here…

She considered Naveen’s comment, growing silent as she returned to her painting. Had Ethan ever let her go?

Ethan abandoned his book eventually and returned to the dock, and that essentially silenced their previous conversation. By this point, both had grown tired of painting, and they abandoned it in favor of a new activity.

This was how the day carried on, moving between new activities with a fleeting commitment to each pastime. Naveen’s new lease on life meant that he didn’t need to finish an activity for the sake of completion, and this philosophy ruled their time together.

Ethan and Naveen played a game of chess while Charlie played with Jenner, and when they discussed another match, a casual suggestion was made to play cards and was enough to change course. Charlie joined them during the second round, and this continued until they found something new to do.

When the sun set on their day on the river, Dr. Banerji invited them to stay for dinner, and declining never occurred to either of his guests. A bottle of white wine was opened as they enjoyed the sunset, and their conversations were littered with laughter and smiles.

Banerji took the lead in cooking dinner, though he promptly found helpers.

Jenner parked himself in the kitchen, waiting for scraps, and Charlie sneaked him treats quite frequently. Ethan pretended not to notice, and Naveen hid his smile by focusing on the fish. When they finished cooking, they carried their meal to the deck overlooking the river. Ethan lit the candles while Naveen and Charlie set the table, and once they were all seated, Naveen raised his glass.

“To good friends and time well spent,” Naveen toasted, and suddenly, an unwanted reminder presented itself… Naveen’s still dying. A lump formed in Ethan’s throat as he raised his glass, and without missing a beat, Charlie’s hand silently rested on his beneath the table, offering silent support.

Ethan’s smile was grateful and adoring as he looked down at Charlie, and Naveen felt a sense of relief wash over him. His boy was loved…

Dinner carried on in the same spirit of their day. They laughed and joked and enjoyed themselves freely. The jokes carried on with particular attention to Ethan’s less than stellar cooking abilities, and they enjoyed teasing each other. Long after they finished their food, they continued their conversation with wine under the moonlight.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to hospital gossip. Naveen, now out of hiding, remained in contact with several of his friends at Edenbrook but was eager to hear more from Charlie. Remembering how much he loved gossip, she happily obliged.

“From what I hear, Dr. Lahela has quickly amassed a group of followers,” Dr. Banerji’s smile was full of mischief, “You’re friends with him, no?”

“Bryce and I are friends, yes,” Charlie nodded her head, amused by Naveen’s apparent enthusiasm for hospital gossip.

“Is he as scandalous as the rumors say?”

“Even more so.”

Naveen nodded appreciatively, and after eyeing Ethan for a moment, he dared to ask, “Have you partaken in the scandals?”

Charlie choked on her wine, eyes wide with surprise. Was he asking if she fucked Lahela? Naveen was unphased by her response, acting as if it were a typical question as he poured himself a glass of wine. Even in the dim candlelight of the night, Charlie’s blush was noticeable.

“That’s not very polite to ask,” Charlie feigned a dramatic affront, somewhat hoping that she could avoid answering the question. She was aware of Ethan’s eyes on her. For a moment, Ethan considered jumping in to save her, and he would have if not for his sudden need to know the answer.

Jealousy flashed through his veins as he thought about the way Dr. Lahela looked at her…

“You don’t have to answer, of course,” Naveen insisted.

“Well…” Charlie bit her lower lip, taking a deep breath before stammering, “I…” Charlie laughed at herself, shaking her head at how nervous she was. What did it matter if she fucked Bryce? It’s not like Ethan didn’t have the option and rejected it, “I had sex with Lahela, yes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It took enormous self-control for Ethan not to jump out of his skin at her confirmation.

Naveen looked proud of Charlie, but she didn’t know if he was proud of her confession or that she’d slept with Bryce. Either way, she accepted his smile and casually watched Ethan’s reaction.

“Any rumors to add in circulation?” Naveen teased her, and for a moment, she wondered if he’d asked just to make Ethan jealous. And should she thank him for that?

“No, Dr. Nosy, I have nothing to add,” Charlie playfully reprimanded him, “Bryce is a very good friend of mine.”

Naveen raised his hands in surrender, and Ethan remained silent. He could hardly focus on the conversation surrounding him. Instead, he was haunted of images of Lahela touching her, claiming her… Jealousy prickled at his skin, burning him alive from inside. Suddenly, Ethan was aware of the fallacy of his assumptions. All this time, he’d thought Charlie was his, but now, he knew that he had no right to make that claim. He’d pushed her away every time she offered her heart but held her too close for her to ever completely leave him.

“How about we talk about the scores of women after you, Dr. Banerji?” Charlie turned it back on him, raising an eyebrow.

Naveen waved off her question with a chuckle, “You flatter an old man.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth,” Charlie assured him, winking for effect, and he continued to laugh.

“Speaking of flattery, I hear congratulations are in order. You performed exceptionally well after the subway derailed. You helped save Rafael Aveiro’s life,” Naveen held his glass up in a toast of respect, “He’s a fine man, a real hero.”

Ethan knew the story well, and he felt a swell of pride in his chest that his rookie had helped so many. He raised his glass in a similar congratulations, but when his eyes met hers, he faltered.

The change in Charlotte was visible, and it startled Ethan. There was guilt in her gaze, as if the mention of Rafael reminded her of betrayal against him.

Oh…

Ethan swallowed, suddenly understanding.

She had sex with Lahela, but Rafael was different. She cared for him… Ethan’s body went cold as the idea entered his mind – she loved him.

Rafael Aveiro was a superhero. He loved with conviction and unencumbered freedom. He never hid his affection for Charlotte, and he never questioned if he deserved her. He loved her in a way that Ethan couldn’t, and how could Ethan ever compete?

Charlie should have loved Rafael, and maybe she did…. But she’d never felt such guilt as she did when she thought about him while sitting next to Ethan. She felt like every tender moment with Rafael was a moment in which she cheated on Ethan, and she had to remind herself of all the times Ethan pushed her away. Rafael didn’t push her away, so why did she keep coming back to Ethan?

For the first time all day, silence fell between the two of them.

The illusion shattered. They weren’t two lovebirds enjoying a day with a mutual friend. It was always more complicated than that…

Naveen filled the silence with a story from his youth, and slowly, they both engaged again. They laughed and participated, and truly, they enjoyed themselves. But between Ethan and Charlie, so many things remained unspoken.

Their conversations carried late into the evening, but every good day must end.

Containing their yawns, the group of three finally concluded their day together. Banerji was exhausted but still sad to see his friends go. He hugged them each tightly and sincerely, giving Charlie a kiss on the cheek as she went. He bid farewell to Jenner with a playful scratch under his chin, and he waved Charlie and Ethan off as their car disappeared down the drive.

Charlotte’s day with Dr. Ramsey ended, and the moon illuminated all of the illusions they shared. Today had been wonderful and magical and fun, and away from hospital politics, they were two people who loved each other deeply spending time with a dear friend. But as the city of Boston approached them, they were two people, irrevocably connected but divided by unspoken words.

Dr. Ramsey wasn’t hers to hold, but why couldn’t Charlotte let go?

I know this is super long and didn’t have a very satisfying ending, but I wanted to show you the unique situation of their relationship. They’re obviously in love and basically married, but there’s still something that divides them... Please request to be tagged for the next update “Unspoken.”

Tag List:  @claudevonstruke @flyawayboo @octobereighth @elixabexh @togetherwearerapture-blog @perriewinklenerdie @nobounderiesplease

[yarnings]

You’ll Have to Excuse me... I’ve Been Gone for a Month

Merry Christmas! Have some None So Scots. This is my first fic on Tumblr that wasn’t for @gotham-ruaidh‘s writing workshop, so be nice (not really. I still want to hear if there’s a huge plot hole, or if there’s something you find really troubling). Gotham still gets the credit of course. Don’t blame her for the fact that this story really hasn’t been edited enough. I don’t have the patience to wait long enough to edit it properly, especially since I like the symmetry of posting Thanksgiving dinner right after Christmas, having posted Christmas dinner shortly after Thanksgiving.

Towards the end of September, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser was lying in bed, in his apartment, browsing Macleans online, when his sister phoned him. Startled, he almost dropped his smartphone before answering.

“Hey Jenny, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, Jamie. I’m just calling to invite you to the farm for Thanksgiving dinner on the Sunday.”

Taken aback both by his sister’s tone and the invitation, he forgot about his resolution to keep his language at all times classroom appropriate.

“What the hell, Jenny? Since when do I need an invitation to eat Thanksgiving dinner at home?”

“How about since you moved out, and we’d like you to eat Thanksgiving dinner at Lallybroch with us?”

Jamie forced himself to take a deep breath and count to te-

“If you’re still willing to spend time with us, of course.”

-four. Four was a good number to count to.

“Janet. I know we discussed this during the summer. I’ve hardly moved out, I just have an apartment for during the week. Saves me from having to get up at 5:30 every morning.”

“Generally speaking, people who haven’t moved out, and are still planning on helping out around the farm, have spent more than one night since Labour Day at home.”

Breathing heavily (snorting, really) through his nose, Jamie ground out through his teeth “Perhaps this is a conversation we should be having in person, not over the phone. Since I apparently am expected to stay in the city next weekend, perhaps we can do it at Thanksgiving?”

“Can’t. You’re bringing a guest.”

“What do you mean I’m bringing a guest? Who might this guest be? Are they hiding under my bed? Nope, no one there.”

Jenny sighed heavily, the sound carrying through the phone’s speaker and filling the bedroom.

“Don’t be an arse. You know that mom’s doctor finally arrived? Mom invited her to come for Thanksgiving, since she obviously doesn’t have any family or even any friends here yet.” The new doctor wasn’t Ellen Mackenzie’s in the sense of Ellen being her patient. But when Jamie and Jenny’s mom had decided to start leaving more and more of the day-to-day running of the farm to Jenny and her husband Ian Murray, she hadn’t so much done less work as redirected the work she was doing. She had organised a physician recruitment committee, and directed it in the unusual direction of not trying to bring in a family doctor, but to hire a surgeon for the hospital. The committee’s work had succeeded, Ellen had managed to get all the visas in order, and the new surgeon had just arrived from England.

“I’ll send you the details about picking her up. And can I put you in charge of potatoes and cranberry sauce? We’ll do your usual pies for you, because they won’t travel well by car. The doctor is the only guest this year, so it’s us, mom, Murtagh and you in addition to her.” Barely giving Jamie time to confirm that he would bring the requested dishes, she hung up.

 When the alarm went off, Dr. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was lying on her new bed, not so much sleeping or even dozing as simply staring blankly at the opposite wall, exhausted and somewhat overwhelmed. Before this move she would have said that she was used to moving around a lot, and didn’t have any trouble adjusting to a new place. But this was her first time in a foreign country on her own, and to her surprise that made a big difference. Thankfully she didn’t have much to move; the household supplies that had been provided for her may very well have outnumbered her possessions. (Why on earth would anyone need that many pots? And three different vases? She was wondering if more than one recruitment committee member had taken it upon themselves to provide a full set of everything that they thought she might have left behind in Oxfordshire.)

She was feeling less and less certain about having accepted the invitation to dinner today. (“Well, we call it dinner, but it’s more of a combined lunch and dinner. We eat in the early afternoon. Come hungry.”) But at least it meant she wouldn’t have to cook. The takeaway options here were limited, and she didn’t feel like having to track down some groceries and cook for herself just yet. Putting on some nicer clothes and meeting some people was probably less work than that.

She stepped out the front door of the building just as a tall young man was approaching from visitor parking. He was a few years younger than her, approaching 2 metres, and had a head of red curls, just like Ms. Mackenzie had described her son.

“Dr. Beauchamp?” Unconsciously, Jamie shifted his accent towards a more international French, away from his usual, Canadian, pronunciation, in an attempt to impress the vision of loveliness in front of him.

“Je utilise la pronunciation anglais, c’est <<beech-am>>. Vous êtes M Fraser?” Claire blinked and realised what she had just said. “I’m so sorry, I’m a little tired and I guess I thought we were speaking French for a moment there. I was just saying that my name has a very English pronunciation – it’s ‘beech-am’.” Her accent sounded very cozy to Jamie. To his inexperienced ear it was neither working-class nor particularly posh, but beyond that he couldn’t tell. Not that he cared. All he knew was that it sounded perfect.

“Pas de problem. Je parle français aussi,” Jamie continued, switching to English, with a shy grin. “I teach the French stream for Primary – that’s the 5- and 6-year-olds – actually. It’s a change to be M Fraser to an adult instead of someone at waist height.” He waved at the car. “I’ve been told that you’re who Mom is dragging out to the farm for Thanksgiving this year. She delegated the dragging part to me though. Shall we?”

Claire walked to the door of the car, and only after opening it noticed the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I think I might be a bit jetlagged still.”

From where he was holding the passenger door open for her, Jamie grinned at her. “No worries. If you want to nap on the way I won’t tell on you.” As she came around the car, Claire looked at him with confusion.

“Wait, nap? I thought your mother lived close.”

“She’s not very far. It’s maybe a 45 minute drive.”

Claire’s eyes bugged out. “Bloody hell, that’s considered “not far”? I always thought that people were joking when they talked about distances here.” Jamie politely ignored her confusion, and walked around to the driver’s side to get into the car himself.

Despite the fact that she had never met him before, Claire found herself feeling surprisingly comfortable with Mr. Fraser, as if an instant friendship had sprung up in just the few sentences they exchanged. So comfortable, in fact, that in the companionable silence in the car she did end up dozing off. Reaching one-handed into the backseat, Jamie dug out an old plaid blanket he kept in the car for emergencies. Keeping one hand on the wheel and most of an eye on the road, he tucked it around her as they drove on.

During the drive to his family’s farm, Jamie kept stealing glances at the fascinating woman sitting in the seat next to him. Despite the popularity of holding Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday, traffic was light, allowing him this extended distraction. Apparently most people had either already done any travelling needed, or else were actually having Thanksgiving dinner on the day of. It occurred to Jamie that he probably should have asked around to see if any of his coworkers were on their own for the holiday, and maybe hosted a dinner on Monday. He mused on this for a while, enjoying the scenery outside the car almost as much as he enjoyed the scenery inside it. Eventually, he noticed that they were getting close to the end of the trip.

“Dr. Beauchamp? We’re almost there; you probably want to wake up now.” When she didn’t respond, he reached out and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. She started awake, and blinked at him.

“Lallybroch is just a few more minutes, I figured you probably wanted a bit of warning.” She screwed up her face, giving him a grimace that was probably intended to be a smile. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither one wanting to shatter the fragile sense of intimacy that had grown out of her napping in his presence. But Claire’s curiosity got the better of her after a little bit.

“Lallybroch? That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s Scots Gaelic. Means ‘lazy tower’. My parents had to take the tower down for safety reasons when they bought the property, but they kept the name. Changing it would have been too many changes for the community to tolerate.”

Claire laughed at the mock-solemn look on Jamie’s face. “So you speak Gaelic as well as French then?”

“Not really. My mom has a fair bit more of it than I do. Some of her relatives, especially as they got older, weren’t very good in English, so she practiced it a lot. But knowing the name of the house you grew up in doesn’t take much.” As he explained this, Jamie smoothly turned off the road into the private drive, long practice letting him know where the rough parts where and how to avoid them.

When Jamie parked the car by the house and they got out, Claire insisted on helping him carry the food inside. “After all, you did the driving. I promise that I won’t try to take credit for it myself.” As they walked up to the door, Ellen opened it for them, saving Jamie from the dilemma of whether his sister would be more annoyed if he rang the bell (confirming that this was no longer home) or just walked right in (ignoring her accusation that he had moved out). It also saved him from having to decide whether he wanted to do the one that would annoy her more or the one that would annoy her less.

“Come in, come in!” Jamie’s mother called out, taking bowls from them and taking them into the kitchen. Arms free, Jamie and Claire took off their coats and shoes, leaving them by the door. Claire followed Jamie into what appeared to be the living room, where Ellen bustled out of a door that appeared to also lead to the kitchen.

“So nice to finally meet you in person, Dr. Beauchamp! I’m Ellen, as I’m sure you guessed.” She stuck out her hand to Claire. Her callused griped was firm, but she didn’t try playing any dominance games as she shook Claire’s hand.

““I really appreciate all the work you’ve put in to making my move here smooth. And it was so generous of you to invite me to your dinner. Oh, and please, call me Claire. And you too.” The last was directed to the room at large, starting with Jamie.

“Well then, I’m Jamie, Claire.” Jenny shot her brother a dark look at this, wordlessly saying You spent how long with this woman in a social setting and only now share your first name? She stepped forward, offering a handshake of her own.

“I’m Jenny, and this is my husband Ian, with our daughter Katherine” the tiny woman said, pointedly offering only first names as she gestured to the dark-haired man sitting in a plush chair, holding a baby who was industriously pulling at the bows in her dress in an attempt to remove them so she could eat them. Claire nodded to Ian, and cooed over Katherine. The last person in the living room, a wiry, somewhat disheveled man silently nodded at her.

“This is Murtagh Fraser. His grandmother was my late husband’s grandfather’s oldest sister, and he’s Jamie’s godfather. But close friend of the family might be a better description.” Claire shook Murtagh’s hand as she parsed the relationship.

“So you’re second cousins by marriage,” she said, pointing at Ellen and Murtagh. “And they’re his second cousins once removed,” pointing at Jenny and Jamie. Murtagh flashed her a quick grin, transforming his face for a brief instant. Claire had the feeling she had just passed some kind of obscure test.

Ellen invited Claire to take a seat, and almost immediately bustled back to the kitchen in response to a timer. She was followed by Jamie who wanted to check on the food he’d brought and it’s reheating, then Murtagh, who came back only to send Jenny in to confer with Ellen on the subject of turkey carving. Shortly afterwards Ellen herself returned, announcing that dinner was ready.

Once everyone was settled around the dinner table (except Katherine, who was playing with brightly coloured plastic in a playpen), Ellen said a prayer for the meal, and the feast began. In addition to Jamie’s cranberry sauce, the turkey was accompanied by gravy and a large dish of dressing (“And there’s more in the kitchen, so take as much as you want.”) There were rolls with butter, a green salad, Brussel sprouts and, to pair with the mashed potatoes, a dish of mashed rutabaga. This last caused some confusion, as none of the Cape Bretoners knew the name “swede” until Google was consulted for a picture. Claire found herself in a swirl of dishes being passed, leaving plates piled high with food in their wake. “If you need anything else, or want more of something, please, just ask.” Wine was poured, and water jugs placed out on the table, and everyone started to eat.

When Jenny had a half plate of food remaining, Katherine suddenly switched from happily entertaining herself to wailing. Jenny sighed, looking at her dinner and started to get up. Ian stopped her. “I’ll change her diaper first, you can have a bite more right now before you have to come in and nurse her.” He walked off into the house, carrying the crying baby.

Jenny took Ian’s advice and tucked into the food on her plate while it was still warm and she had company in her eating. Seeing the concern on Claire’s face, Ellen explained “Katherine isn’t fond of wet diapers. And she’s been up for a while, so she’s tired. Nothing’s actually wrong, she’s just not able to handle the discomfort. A dry diaper, a full belly and she’ll nap.” Claire smiled her thanks, not very used to interacting with small children, especially not healthy ones.

Once Jenny left to nurse Katherine, Ellen looked at Jamie and quietly said “Jamie, I’ve been wondering. You seem to be doing quite well in the city. How would you feel if moved into the granny flat, instead of you just storing your stuff there? You could have my old room as yours, so you wouldn’t need to be staying in a guest room every time you were home. And between Katherine, and the fact that you have your own place now, Jenny and Ian shouldn’t be having to live in my house. And it’s going to be my house unless I move out.” Not really having a choice, despite how his mother phrased things, and appreciating that she had waited until Jenny was out of the room to raise the issue, Jamie agreed.

“After dessert I’ll go see if there’s anything I want to take back with me today. But I can’t do anything about the majority of the books right now. Maybe I should come back tomorrow? Or I can come home after school. After all, I made the trip daily for a couple of years, I’m sure I can manage it for a few nights.” His mother raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not overly picky about it being done that quickly. Just so long as I don’t have to move all those books myself.” Jamie glared at his mother, but given the size of his personal library (at least the hard copy portion of it) he had no reasonable reply. Ian smirked a bit at this; having been recruited to help Jamie install the bookshelves, he was quite happy to have someone on his side about the excessiveness of the collection.

Murtagh grunted. “I’ll swing by the NSLC for you and grab some boxes. You might not be able to fit enough in your car if you do it yourself.” Ellen and Ian burst out laughing, and even Claire, who had been feeling slightly awkward while this not-quite-a-fight was going on snickered. Ian shot her a reassuring glance, understanding how she felt, as Jenny returned with a triumphant look on her face.

“Out like a light! Hopefully she’ll stay down, I never quite trust it when she falls asleep so quickly.” Fortunately Jenny’s worries proved to be unfounded, and the adults were able to enjoy the rest of the meal leisurely.

At the end of the meal, as the plates were being passed to Ellen to return to the kitchen, Claire offered another round of praise for the food.

“That was amazing. You’re all such good cooks. I’ve never had a meal like this one, and this was an amazing introduction.”

Jenny looked at Claire curiously. “I know that turkey is a New World food, and the cranberries, but the meal as a whole can’t have been that different from what English food is like.”

“I can’t really say, actually,” Claire replied. “We never really ate it. I was raised by my uncle, he was an archeologist. When we were out at one of his digs, he would hire a local cook. At home he tended towards curries. You have to remember that his generation grew up hating home cooking. He was 2 when food rationing started during the war, and 16 when it was fully lifted. So, once he got to choose, he stuck with a diet that didn’t resemble what he ate as a child.”

Ellen had grabbed the stack of plates to take to the kitchen. Claire grabbed a couple of serving dishes at random and followed her, to a disapproving shake of Murtagh’s head. In the kitchen, Ellen turned around and realised it was Claire who had helped out.

“Oh, Claire. You’re a guest, you didn’t need to do that. Here, I’ll take those. Why don’t you go and relax? I’ll have dessert out in a jiffy.” Claire rejoined the table in time for Jamie and Jenny to hop up with dishes to clear, leaving her at the mercy of the quiet members of the family. To her pleased surprise, Ian turned out to be perfectly capable of holding up his end of the conversation, as long as his wife and in-laws weren’t filling up all the spaces. Claire found herself immersed in his stories about shenanigans at Fort Mac. Before she knew dessert, in the form of pumpkin and apple pies, along with a bowl of freshly-whipped cream had appeared on the table.

“Would you like pumpkin or apple, Claire?” Ellen hovered her knife between two pies.

Seeing her indecision, Jamie leaned over to her and stage-whispered. “Both is generally an accepted answer.”

Claire blushed, but took Jamie’s advice. She felt less awkward when everyone except Murtagh (who asked for a larger piece of pumpkin instead) followed her lead. Unsure as to which pie she wanted to eat first and which one she wanted to save for last, she tried a bite of apple, followed by a bite of pumpkin, at which point she understood Murtagh’s logic. To her embarrassment, her appreciative moan was audible to everyone at the table. Even Jenny grinned at it.

“It appears that you’ve managed to make an acceptable substitute for my pie, Jenny.”

Claire ignored Jamie. “This is amazing. What do you put in it?”

“It’s a custard with pumpkin puree and basically mixed spice.” Jenny was quite proud of her knowledge of British culinary terms, and was thrilled to get an excuse to refer to mixed spice.

“Did you use my jar of spice mix, Jenny? Because if you did, there’s cardamom in there too.” Jamie was far less concerned with keeping his recipe secret than with taking credit for the pie’s success.

Not to be left out, Ellen piped up with her contribution. “And we used rum in the whipped cream instead of vanilla. Pairs much better with the pies that way.”

“Whatever it is you did, it’s great.”

Jamie and Jenny, however, weren’t listening, and kept verbally poking at each other for the duration of dessert, with the occasional comment from Ian and Ellen thrown in.

By the time the table was cleared again Jamie, who was still blaming his sister for the entirety of the argument over whether or not he’d moved out, as well as him having stayed in the city the last weekend and this one, realised that he was at a profound disadvantage from the assumption that Lallybroch was no longer “home”. Had it been agreed that he was living at Lallybroch, or even if he had been home for the weekend, he could have argued that someone else should drive Claire back, but as it was, clearly he was expected to drive back with her tonight. And, given that her nap in the car on the way here seemed to be wearing off, he really couldn’t join in the after-dinner drinks, as he would likely be making that trip soon. Irritated by this, he announced that he was going to his room to see what he could pack.

Jenny watched him leave with ill-concealed annoyance, and turned to Ellen, who was looking doubtful.

“It’s going to be so odd having an actual granny in the granny flat, eh mom?”

Ellen laughed. “Remember how upset Jamie got when we let him move out there in high school, but kept calling it the granny flat? He always said that since it was only him and Murtagh who had actually lived there that it should be the dude room.” She turned to Claire. “See, when Brian and I bought Lallybroch, pretty much every single building on the land was in disrepair. It ended up being cheaper to just tear them all down and replace them. Now, we were only able to afford the farm because the price was heavily discounted due to all these repairs. We were a bit tight for being able to rebuild everything. But we got lucky, and ended up with a budget – or rather something of a blank cheque – for building the house. Just the house mind you, so if we didn’t spend the money on it, it was gone. So we made sure there was everything we wanted. And after we had all the rooms I was willing to clean, we decided in a fit of optimism to add on a granny flat. We intended it as such, and always called it that, even when it was a glorified guest room, or an apartment for family who needed a place to stay. So Jenny’s right, when I move in will be the first time that the granny flat is used as such. Oh, can I get you some more wine?”

Claire looked down at this apparent non-sequitur, and realised that she had indeed finished her wine without noticing. Hmmm. Not a good sign if she was tired enough to not notice that she was drinking. While she had nothing against enjoying a few drinks on occasion, she was aware that there was a strong correlation between how much she had had to drink, and how much more blunt she got. And given that her usual tendency towards bluntness was exacerbated by being tired, too tired to notice how much she was drinking was not a good situation with people she didn’t know well, and really wanted to stay on the good side of. (Aside from lingering worries about making a good impression on Ellen, Claire found herself very much enjoying the company of the family, and held some vague hopes of seeing them socially again.)

Much to her relief, Jamie re-entered the room. They caught each other’s eyes, and spoke simultaneously.

“Jamie, I’m sorry, but I think…”

“I can take you back anytime you need, Claire. Let me know”

Murtagh let out a chuckle as Jamie and Claire paused to figure out what the other had said.

“Thank you so much Jamie. I don’t mean to take you away from your family, but the trip and time change are catching up with me.”

“No worries. I’ll probably come back later tonight or tomorrow anyhow.”

“That will make Katherine happy,” interjected Jenny. “She always likes to see you.” Jamie grinned at this, being as enamoured with his tiny niece as his mother was, and taking the olive branch from his sister for what it was.

A few minutes later, Jamie was backing out of the driveway. His leftovers were still in the kitchen, except for those parts of them that had ended up in the bundle of food his mother had handed to Claire as they were heading out the door.

Despite her fatigue, she stayed awake for the trip this time, chatting easily with Jamie, and watching the scenery out the windows. She found him more than able to share what he knew of local history, answering all the questions she had, and offering up the occasional tidbit of his own.

For his part, Jamie didn’t want the drive back to end. He found himself genuinely enjoying the time he was spending with Claire, and to his surprise was even happy that he had to do the return trip, as it meant he got more time with her all to himself. He enjoyed getting to share his knowledge with her, and as the trip back to the city wound to a close, he found himself more and more thinking of his father’s words, that when he found the right woman for him, there would be no questions, he would just know.

Next

[beccaland]

What are your opinions on the RTD era's companions' relationship with the Doctor? 'Cos personally, they bother me a little sometimes, and I was curious what your opinion was.

Yeah, they bother me a little too. I’m actually going to share some thoughts about the characters themselves, as well as their respective relationships to the Doctor. Partly, I want to do that because not to do so would be an injustice to the characters. So, here goes.

Rose (and Mickey a bit, because you can’t really separate an analysis of their characters and he’s a companion too):

Rose is a charismatic character, and I think just right for relaunching the series. She’s young and displays many of the flaws of young people, yet in other ways is more mature than other adults, including her own mum–indeed Rose is often seen taking on a role of parenting her parent. While Jackie seems content to live off the dole, Rose has a job. It’s not a particularly good job, but she seems to be given a fair bit of trust and responsibility, probably above what her official position warrants, which suggests that she’s earned the admiration and reliance of her boss–and given her home life, that’s not surprising. Rose is clearly used to having to be more responsible than her peers. She’s vibrant, curious, compassionate, and brave.

She also takes advantage of Mickey’s affection for her, perhaps without realizing it (at least at first). She’s pretty judgy generally, and she’s not above using the Doctor as well. This suggests that despite (perhaps in part because of) being brought up by an emotionally immature parent and having to take on a lot of responsibility before she was really old enough to bear it, Rose is quite selfish.

Now, as to her relationship to the Doctor, meeting him does two things for her: it gives her an apparently easy escape from a life she feels trapped in, and it gives her the opportunity to develop a relationship with someone unlike anyone she’s ever known, who seems to see potential in her far beyond what any other person in her life has ever shown (especially Jackie and Mickey), and who is both willing and able to protect her and to care about what she feels and wants. Am I saying the Doctor started out as more of a parent-substitute than a boyfriend? Yes I am. Is that kind of creepy? I think so. But not necessarily more creepy than him being her boyfriend, given the age gap.

OK, so Rose gives Mickey a kiss and obliquely tells him “thanks for nothing” before swanning off with the Doctor. By the time she comes back, a year has passed for everyone she knows but just one day for her. This causes ENORMOUS problems for Jackie and Mickey in particular, and she does seem genuinely sorry (well, sorry to Jackie–she seems mostly annoyed with Mickey’s anger AT BEING SUSPECTED OF MURDERING HER. BECAUSE SHE RAN OFF WITH AN ALIEN). This gets swiftly brushed aside by alien shenanigans, and Rose swans off again–leaving Mickey apparently in some doubt as to their relationship status. The nature of her relationship to the Doctor is also left ambiguous at this point, but she’s clearly not thinking of him as “substitute for parental acknowledgement and affection” anymore. She flirts like crazy with Jack who flirts like crazy with both her and the Doctor and both she and the Doctor seem vaguely jealous of the other’s attention to Jack. Back to Mickey meeting them in Wales, who apparently STILL DOESN’T KNOW that Rose has basically dumped him, and does she make that clear? No, but the Doctor is acting more and more like a jealous boyfriend (and really doesn’t stop treating Mickey like garbage until the poor guy saves them and stays behind in Pete’s World, thus earning his respect, I guess, and also removing the threat), and none of this is Mickey’s fault. He’s astute enough to see, at least, that the Doctor and Rose’s relationship is destructive to others.

After the Doctor regenerates, they’re 100% in couple mode, with Rose referring to the events of S1E2 as their “first date” and the Doctor happily assenting to this characterization (has Rose actually broken up with Mickey yet? Honestly can’t remember, but I don’t think Mickey knew it if she had). The Doctor and Rose have a deeply codependent relationship. We might attribute this to her dysfunctional relationship with Jackie and the Doctor’s recent PTSD. They latch onto each other like needy puppies, and this isn’t a criticism, because there are really people who fit these profiles, and they are not bad people, and it does make for interesting characters and good storytelling, but it’s by no means a healthy depiction of a relationship.

Consider, for instance, that the Doctor tries to send her away (no doubt he felt he was making a noble sacrifice, but he did this against her clear and repeatedly expressed wishes, and with the complicity of Pete). Rose ignores the Doctor’s clearly expressed wishes and comes back, which, fair enough I guess, but it all ends in tragedy anyway. So what does he do? HE BURNS UP AN ENTIRE SUN just so he can say goodbye. I mean, I’m sure he verified it was not an inhabited solar system, but seriously. In that goodbye chat, he specifically tells her that they cannot get across the barrier between universes because “the whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse.”

Does Rose accept the judgment of the person who is unquestionably the foremost person in either universe able to evaluate the risk of such an attempt? No she doesn’t. We learn in series 4 that even before the stars started going out, she was having Torchwood build a DIMENSION CANNON to P U N C H. A. H O L E. IN THE UNIVERSES!!! like presumably as many as it took for her to find the right one. Just so she could get back to him. AFTER HE MADE IT CLEAR THAT IS NOT WHAT HE WANTED. BECAUSE IT WOULD DESTROY THEM. This is portrayed as romantic rather than horrific. Seriously. And then he dumps his problematic clone on her and goes back to his own universe. SO ROMANTIC. Sorry, I try not to be rude about Rose’s relationship with the Doctor. I think it’s actually an interesting dynamic that makes sense in context, but it really bugs me that so many people view it unproblematically, and it bugs me even more that people don’t imagine both Rose and the Doctor growing out of it. Like, I can’t lie: I think that’s wacked and super unhealthy, in much the same way (though to a lesser degree) as the Twilight series and its fans are, except Doctor Who is still better-written and far more interesting.

That said, I’d be willing to read a well-written fix-it fic that depicts them growing out of their unhealthy codependent dynamic while staying together romantically. TBH I’d be more interested if it were Rose and Tentoo because then it would be canon-compliant, but I’m not too picky on that point. I AM picky about it not even remotely disrespecting the relationship the Doctor had with any other companion though. And it would have to have a whole “you were so obsessed with me that you were willing to destroy an unspecified number of universes, INCLUDING THE ONE YOUR FAMILY AND BEST FRIEND WERE IN, just to see me again for a brief period of time before this universe also collapsed WITH US IN IT and honey, that’s actually CREEPY AND GROSS even though I thought it was super sweet at the time, but in my defense the universe was already ending at that point anyway and you don’t have that excuse because in your case it was PREMEDITATED” conversation because otherwise I won’t believe they’ve actually grown as people. Also it’d be nice if it were funny more than angsty (but lbr you can’t write what I’m talking about without a fair amount of angst). So, y'know, if anyone has actually written that fic lmk.

Meanwhile, there’s MARTHA.

OK so I’m on record about how awesome Martha is. This is already getting long so I won’t belabor Martha’s total awesomeness as a character, but even though I got a bit tired of dysfunctional family relationships in New Who, it was novel to see them have any ongoing family relationships at all, and Martha’s was particularly rich, partly there were so many of them for her to interact with, thus revealing lots of different facets of her character. And despite her fractious relationship with them, she remained fiercely loyal, which was an interesting source of tension between her and the Doctor, and one that diverted attention away from the dental-drill painfulness of the unrequited love subplot.

It’s super gross that the writers made her hung up on the Doctor all the way through series 3. Not because it’s ridiculous for an intelligent, perceptive, professional young woman to be hung up on an emotionally unavailable man. No, that really happens to actual human beings (and again, possibly related to serious parental issues, so it’s not even without narrative justification). Handled with any sensitivity at all, it could have made for a lovely level of complexity. What really bugs me, and I’ve also written about this before, is how the Doctor treats her like GARBAGE, and this is barely addressed as a problem that he is responsible for. In the end Martha realises her mistake in sticking around for so long, but her attempts to call out his bad behavior in the past fell on deaf ears. Martha is the rebound girl but he acts like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Which, IDK, maybe he really doesn’t know? Like for all his 900+ years the Doctor has little previous actual relationship experience and also he’s super blindingly hung up on his high school-esque sweetheart Rose. And it’s not just in regards to Martha’s romantic feelings that he treats her poorly. He also dismisses her VERY VALID CONCERNS about her own safety and well-being when traveling in the past for the sake of his own whims. And he brushes off legitimate questions about how stuff works. Anyway. This is well-trodden ground. As is the fact that RTD later inexplicably fobs Martha off on MICKEY, the only other black companion in the series up to that point, despite having already paired Martha off with a cute, sweet doctor who seemed like a MUCH better fit, and there literally being no narrative reason for them to be a couple in that scene.

Donna! Well, as we all know, Donna is among the best-developed companions ever.

She didn’t start out that way though. She started off as a Deeply Problematic (read: disgustingly misogynistic) Stereotype who was never meant to be more than a one-off, but CT and DT got along so well that they brought the character back full-time, and so we got a lot of deconstruction, exploration, and development of that first impression. And I’ll forever be happy we did. But even in The Runaway Bride, she had moments of surprising depth and pathos. Deep down, Donna was always better than she seemed. The fact that she was the last person (other than her mother) to realize that fact is part of what makes her so compelling.

Her relationship to the Doctor is also the least problematic, because they’re both on the same page about being platonic bffs. To be fair, part of the reason he does make sure this is clear from the outset is because he has finally realized how he hurt Martha (NOT THAT HE EVER APOLOGIZED TO MARTHA FOR THAT–for a guy for whom “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” was basically a second catch phrase, Ten actually sucks at apologising to the people close to him). Unlike Martha, the Doctor doesn’t overlook Donna or brush off her concerns. Unlike Rose, he is not codependent with her. Donna calls him on his BS, and he listens. She helps him to face his emotional vulnerability rather than running from/shutting out potentially scary personal relationships (like with River and Jenny). The Doctor helps Donna to see that she really is brilliant and important, and she grows to believe him.

That’s not to say that Donna’s character was handled perfectly. No, indeed. Even after her first story, we’re repeatedly subjected to jokes about her desperate need for and inability to get a man. Even the Doctor, who is otherwise kind to her, takes these jokes for granted and sometimes participates in them. At the end of series 4, we’re shown that the one person in the universe that Mr. Pansexuality Personified, JACK HARKNESS has no interest in flirting with is Donna Noble, the man-hungry middle-aged slightly overweight loud temp from Chiswick. And then, of course, the Doctor denies her agency and takes away her access to the memories of everything she saw, everything she did, everything she discovered about herself while traveling with him. Just so he wouldn’t have to see her die. It was selfish of him. She made her choice and he ignored it to spare HIMSELF pain. But, y'know, at least the Doctor cheated the lottery to make her rich as a wedding present to a very attractive, kind-looking, and clearly adoring man–right before he regenerated. So she did get a happy ending.

[jodellejournals]

why i wear my heart on my sleeve... but keep people at arm’s length

i’ve always known that i’m a fragile human being. i get so emotional easily in the slightest of things and happenings — may they be scenes from movies or real life. i’ve been very vocal of my emotions too and this is probably why people close to me would describe me as someone who is sweet or kind and i have no problem with that. in fact, i even make it a point to express myself always. hence, i write and sort of make art in ways i can. i have mentioned in my previous entry that my sixteen-year-old self advised me to not kill my soul and so i make her proud by living up to it. i refuse to let the world harden my soft ways and sappy heart. however, some people see softness as weakness which is not always the case but i could not just also enforce my beliefs and values on them. for me, being soft is being in tune with your feelings and emotions. crying doesn’t make you weak. instead, it shows how strong and brave of a person you are because you can express your feelings instead of surpressing them. i figured out this is why i wear my heart on my sleeve — because i embrace the spectrum of emotions there is and I relish in each one of them. i allow myself to immerse in every feeling and emotion and i have discovered along the way how wonderful it is be every bit of human.

on the downside, i have to admit that being “too” soft gets me in trouble and i get all the blame for it. i have reminded myself many times to be extra careful in wearing my heart on my sleeve because not everyone is a friend or a listening ear. some just hear so they can share your misery to the world. that’s when i learned to keep everyone at arm’s length. i know it sounds paradoxical for me to say but honestly, i have found it quite easy. i have made it a life rule to not get out of touch of kindness and gentleness, traits which i have always believed that we humans were born with but... never let anybody too close to see my bare soul. it goes for everyone, even my best of friends or family members. not that i do not trust them because i greatly do, but what i’m saying is, protect yourself at all costs. never be too complacent with people to the point that you expose yourself too much to those who do not deserve to know you ‘that much’.

i have learned to select relationships, of every kind, where i will invest myself in. i’ve read somewhere, “son’t develop feelings for temporary people” and so it should be. i am not just talking romantically here but in all aspects. i knew how much i can give and the length i’d go for the people i love. it’s either all of me or nothing, i fight for you against the world or you don’t exist in my world at all. so in the process, i have built walls high enough because the world we live in is not all of good intentions and kindred spirits. i carefully choose people in my circle and i give ladder to those deserving enough. why am i so critical regarding this? you may ask. well to answer you, it’s because i grew up believing everyone is kind at heart and no one is too evil to create dark tactics — and that’s where i got invaded. i had no walls in the first place so i was easy target. not everyone should have access to me and my energy and that is a lesson i have learned the hard way. hard enough that i do whatever it takes to avoid getting burned by the same flame twice. but i still have a heart and let loose with the right people. they are the exceptions because with great love comes full acceptance. for example, i have always known that my mother becomes a mad woman when she’s annoyed. i cannot just build my walls around her, right? because she is my mother, no matter what, “even if the world turns upside down” as people point out. blood is really thicker than water. so i will always invest emotions on her but i have also come into terms of her ways. see, acceptance, in all its glory. we don’t get to choose our family and loving them is the most unconditional form of love i have yet know and experienced. through thick and thin. i am forever grateful to have grown up with a strong support system so thank you, dear god.

on the flip side, we get to choose who becomes friend and family and if they’re worth to emotionally invest in. i have read that you become the five people you spend most of your time with. so i make sure to choose wisely and re-evaluate: do they have the same values and beliefs with me? are they a positive influence? do they clap even for my small wins? were they there when i was at my lowest? do they nurture me to become a good person? if the answer is yes, then welcome to the club. if no, then they have a separate lane. these evaluation pointers were not made overnight but several years in the making through good and not-so-good friends. at least, i learned something from them. for relationships, though inam not in the position to say, here is a piece of advice that i give to friends since i instantly become their love doctor: be with someone you want your future son or daughter to be with. choosing a life partner is an essential decision because that person also becomes your parenting partner who later on influences your children, your food buddy for thousands of meals, shoulder to lean on during endless hours of plane ride and when the world turns its back against you, somebody to share the mundane days and life’s milestones with, retirement companion, and confindant who you’ll tell how your day went or random stories of once upon a times and vice versa. oh, the things that come with a ring! intense, i know. but i believe that if with the right person, it’s bliss. a major emotional investment and lifetime commitment indeed and sometimes, the thought of it makes me chicken.

am i chicken? naybe yes. emotional investment can take a toll in a person after all. and of all the people i know, my very own self is the most fragile of them all. so it is but my nature to shield for my defense. what’s clear to me as of this time is that i am not chicken enough to wear my heart on my sleeve — to be warm and welcoming and gentle and giving. a strength that some could not have for they see it as weakness. more so, i am not chicken enough to keep those not-good-enough for my soul at arm’s length. that’s where i set the boundaries. i accept all that i am today but i hope one day, i may not be too chicken to emotionally invest and passionately commit to people who deseve a place in my heart. and i do not rush because there is also so much joy in being young and running around barefoot with no care in the world. the big “adult” things take time and it is unwise to just jump into them only to find out it’s too late to chicken out. it’s best to take my precious time, keep wearing my heart on my sleeve but with restrictions, and i will eventually become the adult that i am supposed to be. a woman who can emotionally invest and passionately commit — slowly but surely.

[readingraebow]

Ross Poldark Section Three

Book Two: Chapters Nineteen - Twenty-Six

1. What two decisions do Ross and his colleagues make concerning Wheal Leisure at the beginning of Book Two? They decide to open the mine. They have discussed the business side of things and as investors, it would be a hundred each, which they say you couldn't invest in a venture expected to turn profit for less. Plus, with other mines closing, it will raise the prices of copper, paving the way for their mine to profit. So they're all on board there. But Ross also says that Pascoe's bank will offer them a loan but many of them wish to use Warleggan's. Ross explains that Warleggan's bank owns a number of mines already and they closed one of the other mines. It was the choice of the bank, not the shareholders. Ross thinks it should've been the other way which is why he wants to go with Pascoe's. There, if it came to it, the decision to close the mine would be left to the people currently in the room, not the bank. So it's put to a vote and they decide to go ahead and go with Pascoe's.

2. How has Demelza’s role at Nampara evolved in the two years since the last section? So Prudie is getting older and if she can get out of doing work, she will. So Demelza has become a proper maid and also started attending to the meals, all on top of her own work. Plus she's also become Ross's companion. They've bonded and now Demelza spends two or three nights a week with him, just talking or, if he wants to read, silently reading as well. He enjoys her company and basically gets along with her better than everyone else in the house. Plus Demelza has grown up and she's no longer that little child. Now she's maturing and starting to attract the attention of boys whenever Ross takes her into town with him.

3. How is Jim attempting to support his family when his health prevents him from doing his work in the mine? He's going out poaching with Nick again. He'd stopped after Jinny was attacked but now that his health has been growing worse and he'd been out of the mine sick for stretches of time, he'd started poaching again. Well, Jinny wakes up when he's about to go and tells him not to. He says that he's promised Nick and she says to tell him that he's changed his mind. But he says he hasn't and goes anyway. Well, this time they're out waiting for them. Nick gets away but Jim is hiding up a tree and he wouldn't have been caught if a coughing fit hadn't come on. Instead, he was arrested.

4. On what grounds does Ross try to defend Jim? Jim had been examined three months ago by the mine doctor and Jim gets him to write a note saying that Jim's health is failing and he isn't fit for prison. Then Ross accounts for Jim's character and says that Jim was lead astray by an older man who should be the one on trial here. He says that Jim was only trying to provide for his family and if the court will let Jim off with a warning, he will take Jim back into his employ and make sure this never happens again. And the court does take this into consideration. But they say that if he was well enough to poach, he's well enough to face the consequences. So they let him off with a "lenient" sentence: they only give him two years confinement. I'd hate to see what a not lenient sentence would be.

5. Why does Demelza’s father come to see her? He wants her to come back home. It seems his new wife did reform him: with religion. So now he's party to the same gossip as everyone else and wants Demelza to come back home "because it's not proper" for her to live with Ross. But there's honestly nothing for her back with her family??? Ross and company have become more a family to her than her real family ever was and they actually NEED her. Where her old family, well, it turns out her step-mother is pregnant and the only other reason they want her home is to help take care of the new baby. So basically her family doesn't actually care about her, they just want an extra pair of hands and for the gossip to stop. And while Demelza is glad that her father is no longer the drunkard she remembers, he isn't really her family anymore and she doesn't want to go back to his house because it isn't her home anymore. Nampara is.

6. How does Demelza approach Ross about her predicament when he comes home? How does this work out for her? So she found a bunch of trunks in the library that are full of clothes. And she found this dress that she liked and altered it to fit her. So he comes home and she gives him dinner and says she'll be back to light the candles. So she goes and changes into the dress and comes back. He's distracted at first but when he finally notices the dress, he tells her to take it off at once and not wear his mother's things. So then they end up having a fight about her leaving (and she literally never tells him about the visit from her father????) and she says she'll leave if that's what he wants but then she ends up crying on his legs and he sets her on his lap and kisses her cheek and dries her tears. And then he sees her differently. Instead of seeing her as a child, he sees her as an adult for the first time and sees how much she's grown. And he looses all parental authority. So he kisses her for real and then seems to regret it and sends her to bed. But then she knocks on his door and tells him that she can't undo the hooks on the back of her dress so he undoes them for her. And, well, that's the end of their parent/child relationship, haha.

7. What favor does Elizabeth ask of Ross? Now that Charles is in ill health, Francis is head of the estate. Meaning he has as much money as he'd like to gamble with. Which is exactly what he's been doing. The problem is he's not very good at winning. He wins a little but loses a lot. And now the mine is losing money as well. So they can't really afford for him to lose all of their money gambling. Charles did keep a rein on this but now that he's ill, he can't anymore. And Francis wouldn't listen to Elizabeth so she's come to ask Ross to speak to Francis and stop him. Ross agrees to at least try and, hopefully, be successful.

8. What do you think of how this section has played out? Okay well that was interesting. This was by far my favorite section of the book, so far. And while I'm still a little weirded out by Ross being more of a parent to Demelza before this, I have fully boarded the Ross/Demelza ship train. So I was excited that that finally happened. Though it wasn't quite what I expected?? But, I mean, I'm not disappointed. It seems like you'd have to beat Ross over the head with a shovel for him to fall for any other woman than Elizabeth. So I'm glad Demelza gave him another option and a chance to be happy again. So. I'm really pleased with this section and excited to finish the book!!

  Section Three Reading Journal

So as I said above, this is definitely my favorite section so far! Well, the end of it anyway, haha. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about Ross/Demelza but now that it’s here, I’m not opposed.

I am, however, highly upset about Jim. I mean, Jinny told him not to go and Ross was trying his best to help him. And he went anyway. So it could’ve been prevented. But two years is also definitely not a “lenient” sentence and the entire manner of the court just made me super mad??

Well, anyway, I think that’s about all I have for now. I think I had thoughts about other things but I honestly can’t remember any of them. I’m quite excited to finish this book though! I think I’m going to start the show after I finish this book so there’s that. Can’t wait to read the last section!!

[deeeeeeepdown]

It feels silly to spend time or energy to write anything to you, honestly. I really feel like I understand intellectually what happened between us and I know what I should do about it. But, as is so often the case, I still have feelings there that remain unresolved despite reason. 

I wish I’d responded to your message differently. When I read it for the first time, it was with a specific alchemy of bewilderment, ego defensiveness, horror, and humor. For one thing, how dare you throw every scrap of brokenness you could find after careful examination of my life in my face out of nowhere? For another,  where the fuck did it come from? I hadn’t heard from you in over a month and I hadn’t posted anything I could imagine as “triggering” to you. And then there was the matter of you having packaged the whole thing as if you were the authority on everything from spiritual healing to my own biographical history, the professional counselor in my life, the expert in confronting friends in an act of love. We hadn’t done more than off-and-on text exchange in years, had but a single in-person encounter in nearly a decade...and yet. I realized pretty quickly that I had to respond carefully and thoughtfully but truthfully I had NO IDEA what to say or how to say it. I couldn’t imagine any reasonable forward movement in that conversation - or were you even trying to have a conversation? Maybe you just wanted to make one giant pronouncement on my life and then close the book? I still don’t know. I wish my only response had been to ask what exactly it was you were hoping for. And, admittedly, I was amused. You’d managed to conclude that my romantic relationship was a “trauma bond” because I’d told you my partner was a perfectionist. You were telling me what was wrong with my life and my psyche even though it is my life and I am a psychiatrist. 

Maybe neither of us really got this fully but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to be your friend. I wanted to be your friend as a small child when we took ballet together, I wanted to be your friend when your 14-year old life was falling apart, I wanted to be your friend when you stopped talking to me (or to anyone) as a high school student. It was very painful for me to be truly hated and rejected by you but I would have, from the bottom of my heart, forgiven all of it if it had meant we could be friends again. I tried, by the way. I tried to reach out to you, to explain what had happened, to go on stupid group dates I had no interest in, to reach out to you as best I could.  I was ecstatic when you asked me to meet you for brunch and I tried my best to be brutally honest with you about the hard things that were happening in my life at the time. I tried, really really hard every single time there was the opportunity to try. And even my trying was turned into something pathological by you - that I was desperate for your approval or that I had some kind of mothering wound. Dude, I have more friends than I can maintain well. I didn’t NEED another one, I just wanted us both to experience relational healing in light of one of the harder relational breaks we’d both sustained. You represented such a big part of my childhood and losing our friendship represented a good bit of my teenage years and I wanted to close that gap if you did too. 

You said that you had carried a lot of pain from a moment in our high school Spanish class. I don’t at all doubt that it happened, maybe even exactly the way you say it did, but truly I don’t remember it. I remember that time being one in which you were very distant from me. I remember trying hard to balance wanting to be as close as I craved and wanting to give you space if that’s what you wanted and being sort of uneasy about the way things were happening between you and your parents and being quite frustrated that you were so distant from me despite my best efforts. I remember starting to resent you a bit because I knew you’d been shit-talking me privately with Elani and I felt betrayed by that, like I could no longer trust you to be my closest companion. I remember that Elani and I made pinatas together and that you weren’t with us and I don’t remember why. I just know that my mom asked Elani and I if we had any concern that your dad might be hurting you somehow and I said I didn’t think so but that I didn’t feel good about how isolated with him you were and Elani echoed those sentiments and then the conversation moved on. I am deeply sorry if I hurt you in some Spanish class moment that I didn’t even think was important enough to file away in my memory. I was 15 and confused by what was happening with you and upset about the ways our friendship was changing and I don’t doubt for a second that I behaved poorly and in a way that caused you pain. But damn, I wish we’d talked about that sooner. I would have apologized. We could have talked it out. I had no idea you wanted an apology from me or an explanation or that you were carrying resentment around like a heavy burden. When you apologized to me in Sleepy Bee for breaking up with me, I said I forgave you and that I understood you were young and going through a terrible thing and I really meant that? I really saw it that way. You simply wanting to mend the relationship and meet up made me feel happy and hopeful and whole. I folded up everything that I’d ever known in relation to you and put it away. 

I think the only thing I really held on to was my uncertainty that I was doing friendship with you “right”. When we were in college, Austin added me on Instagram and I saw your new life, you seemingly reborn with him and I think you reached out via text expressing interest in being friends again and I was thrilled. I texted you back saying that I’d love to meet the adult you’d become. I meant that. We both had surely changed so much and become grown ups with so many stories we hadn’t shared with each other. I thought it would be a fresh start. And I never heard from you again, eventually learning from Chandler that you felt my reply was condescending. It broke my heart to hear that. Condescending was the last thing I felt or worked to embody with that reply. When things first fell apart and I tried to Facebook message you, your mom told me the same thing. That you felt I was lecturing you. 

We had many exchanges in the past year or so that helped me to trust you. I felt like a real friendship had begun and I guess that’s why it hurt to hear what you saw of my life. There was something tangible to lose again, for the first time since I was a freshman in high school. The entire time we were talking I felt like you were more interested in hearing what was wrong with my life than what was right with it and I value brutal honesty so I tried my best to convey what I was feeling and that my life was far from perfect. It’s nice to have a relationship where you can dump the shit out and not feel too negative or awkward about it since you keep it hidden for the most part. It feels honest and redemptive, 2 words I’d have used to describe our newfound connection. But I think I thought that the objective view of my life spoke to the fact that it wasn’t all bad? I’m a physician, totally in love with and ecstatic about what I’m going to spend my life doing, I live with my boyfriend who has from the beginning and despite all of his flaws helped me to be truer to myself. He’s a doctor too and despite the fact that we both came from “against all odds” situations we found one another on the other side. I have a good working relationship with my family of origin despite having to renegotiate many things about that relationship as an adult in order to keep it from ruining me, a task that required many years of therapy and great inner strength. I have a best friend of 8 years who knows me and teaches me about myself in a way I didn’t know friends could.

In the end, it feels like you can’t look at me in the longterm without seeing it all through the lens of me being a secretly conniving and miserable person. Yes, she might have become a doctor, but it made her miserable and was for all of the most ego-driven reasons.  Sure, she’s close with her parents, but those relationships are built on decades of trauma and she sacrifices whole swaths of herself in order to cling to that. Yeah, she lives with a successful man but it’s a “trauma bond” and they’re both broken, he’s a problematic person and she’s blind - just look at how she couldn’t even acknowledge how ending her engagement felt! I’m forever all wrong, the girl who shafted you in a Spanish project and an act of abandonment she can’t even remember. 

I realize you look at yourself this way, too. “Bad childhood” says the woman whose parents took me on the coolest vacation, best hikes, and most enchanting boat rides of my life. “Borderline personality disorder” diagnoses the girl with a Master’s degree in English who has never had to visit her loved one in a locked psychiatric unit. I know you suffered. I know your parents handled their divorce terribly and that you bore the brunt of that pain the most. I know it all fell apart on you and ate you alive. I even know that you told a lot of people you’d been raped by a faculty member of our high school and I don’t know if it’s true but if it is that is horrendous. But Karley, it wasn’t all bad. Your family was educated. You were cared for. Your ability to succeed in the world was always guaranteed and financial security held you up from the start. Your little sister is one of the coolest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing and she’s healthy and succeeding in the world. You’re an adult who doesn’t have to worry for a single second that her parents aren’t okay - they take care of themselves and both have careers they love. There is so much that is broken, but there is so much that is whole. That’s true for both of us. 

Ultimately, the last time we spoke to each other, the truest, deepest part of me realized something it should have known a long time ago - it’s time to let go. I’ve tried every time there was a choice to love you wholeheartedly. No human intention is ever pure and I know there was something in that for me, but goddamn, I wanted above all to be your friend, to really know each other and trust each other and help each other grow. You will forever be a sacred part of my becoming. Many of my best childhood memories contain you and I love that. I’m so thankful. Our friendship showed me a glimpse of what life could look like for me and it made me feel held at a time I really needed it. I’ll keep that with me forever. 

But the rest? It’s time to release it. I can’t trust you not to weaponize what I share. I don’t need another person who can tell me everything that’s wrong with my heart and my mind and my life; I have myself and my therapist, and my parents and my partner and Noor for that kind of thing and for the most part all of those figures give me that information only when I ask for it, which I do. I don’t believe in forcing that insight on the people I love until they ask me to because they’re ready. It’s okay if you want that kind of unexpected honestly negative perspective from your relationship but I don’t believe in it and I don’t want it in mine. There’s a reason psychotherapists don’t go out into the streets telling everyone what’s wrong with them; there’s a reason they wait patiently in their offices for people to seek them out and then offer what they know instead of imposing it - healing doesn’t happen when you look at someone and say “Hi you trusted me with this very painful part of you and don’t forget it exists because I certainly haven’t and you need to realize that you have very painful parts that are very obvious to me, an outside observer”. Healing happens when someone is neck deep in their own muck sweating and sobbing, offering those painful parts to someone who simply closes their fingers around them and says “thank you”. Thank you for trusting me and sharing with me and allowing me in - I’ll do the same for you. Over and over until the very end, just keep doing what you can and I’ll be here to receive whatever you find down there. We all do our own work. We can’t and shouldn’t impose our efforts on the work of another. Trust me, I am doing my own work. It’s hard and painful and wonderful enough without you thinking you know how to do it better than I do. You know how to do yours but you won’t ever know how to do mine because it’s mine. 

When it comes to our ability to have a friendship it isn’t a matter of my trying and so I’ve stopped trying. I don’t think I will try again. It doesn’t heal either of us and I suspect it hurts us both more than we even realize. I see so much good in your life now. I think you have a beautiful mind and I love your interests and I think you seem like a wonderful mother and partner. I hope it all continues to heal you. I hope you find happiness and contentment and vulnerability over and over again and I hope you let it teach you. I hope that for me too. It just doesn’t serve us to do it in tandem. For more than a decade, that has only left me more confused and more in pain and I suspect you’ve been left feeling that too. And actually? That’s okay. We just aren’t each other’s people. It seems like we both have our own people to walk our own paths. 

I hope you find peace on yours. I hope I find peace on mine too. 

[secondsightcinema]

Shoes, Brows and Gowns: Now, Voyager (1942)

“My mother didn’t think Leslie was suitable for a Vale of Boston. What man is suitable, Doctor, she’s never found one…. What man would ever look at me and say ‘I want you’? I’m fat. My mother doesn’t approve of dieting. Look at my shoes. My mother approves of sensible shoes…. I am my mother’s well-loved daughter. I am her companion. I am my mother’s servant…. My mother says…. My mother, my mother, MY MOTHER!”

On the set with Paul Henreid

When we first meet Charlotte Vale, who is having a nervous breakdown, she is saddled with both bushy black brows and unnecessary eyeglasses—two of Hollywood’s stock ways of telegraphing: unattractive. She’s also supposed to be fat, and she’s dressed as unflatteringly as her monstrous mother can make her, in a hideous print dress and a pair of those ghastly sensible shoes Charlotte so despises.

Which means she’s only a good tweeze and a trip to Bergdorf’s away from being unrecognizably chic. That and a “very clever doctor” Charlotte finds in South America who gets 20 pounds off her.

Mother-approved, sensible shoes.

  Post-Cascade, non-Mother-approved pumps.

When the movie starts Charlotte’s kindly sister-in-law is about to stage an intervention, with my all-time favorite movie psychiatrist, Dr. Jacquith (Claude Rains, also one of my favorite imaginary fathers). They have their work cut out for them, gaining Charlotte’s confidence and convincing Mother that “my little girl” is actually dangerously ill, and that not getting her some serious treatment will reflect poorly on the Vale name (she wouldn’t even consider such a thing out of concern for her daughter). They succeed, and Mother allows Charlotte to spend a few months at Jacquith’s sanitarium, Cascade.

Charlotte faces “the fork in the road,” asks Jacquith if he can help her.

And Cascade, rustic and cozy in the Vermont woods, and some psychotherapy with Jacquith, do the trick. Hell, just being away from Mother worked wonders. But of course Charlotte dreads going home, and again the sister-in-law steps in with a plan to let Charlotte try her wings, on a South American cruise.

“Could we try to remember that we are hardly commercial travelers? It’s bad enough to have to associate with these tourists on board.” —Mother

Charlotte had confided to Jacquith during the intervention about her last cruise with Mother, when Charlotte was 20. Her shipboard romance with a handsome young officer (see photo at top), inevitably foiled by Mother, was her last hurrah until now, This post-Cascade cruise is a redo of that previous idyll, and for the second time Charlotte will fall in love with a man she meets onboard. Charlotte has good luck on ships. Maybe it’s the fresh air.

Now, Voyager is one of the great “women’s pictures,” that most derided of genres. It is a bit of an outlier, though, subverting some of the genre’s conventions. The theme of a woman who finds her own voice and authentic self is not common in the 1940s. Much more common were the movies Ginger Rogers seemed fated to star in, where her unhappiness is revealed to be the fruit of her being a successful career woman, who needs to subordinate herself to a man to find true happiness. But in Curtis Bernhardt’s My Reputation (1946) and NV, the protagonists find themselves unable to hew to the conventions of their milieu, forced to defy their families’ and communities’ expectations. Neither Charlotte Vale or Jess (Barbara Stanwyck) in My Reputation are bomb throwers—they’re not out to bring down the patriarchy or challenge inequality or injustice. But in a time of rigid conformity, they’re still pretty damned brave.

Another spectacular Orry-Kelly gown, which bloodless Brahmin Elliott appreciates but finds too hot to handle.

NV depicts Charlotte’s severe depression fairly realistically, and Davis portrays it in all its complexity. The novel’s author wrote from her own experience of a breakdown, and Charlotte’s behavior—eyes cast down or darting like an animal’s, a jumble of emotions rattling just beneath her anxious surface, is agonized and confused. it’s as though she’s functioning by rote, trying to act normal with only the sketchiest sense of what that looks like, aching and exhausted, without a shred of confidence that she can find her way back. She is terrified of herself, of her rage, life, the world. When she asks Jacquith in anguish if he can help her navigate “the fork in the road,” I absolutely believe her desolation, her sense of dislocation and terrifying isolation. Mother has succeeded in keeping Charlotte from becoming a “commercial traveler,” a normal person with normal social relationships, including with men.

In NV‘s third act, when a guilt-ravaged Charlotte returns to Cascade after Mother’s bitter little heart finally gives out, she finds Tina, her lover’s unwanted daughter, in residence, and we see in her what we saw in Charlotte in the opening sequence. Tina is broken by her mother’s rejection, and she is as uncertain, lost, and consumed by feelings of unworthiness and morbid fancies as Charlotte was. Charlotte recognizes herself in the kid, and she finds herself irresistibly drawn into giving Tina the love she herself was denied. It’s a beautiful impulse, the kind of healing that restores things to their proper order. By becoming a good mother to Tina, Charlotte rewrites her own story and saves Tina from the decades of wounds she suffered at Mother’s hands.

Tina (janis Wilson) as Charlotte finds her at Cascade.

But let’s talk about sex, for it is in this realm that Charlotte’s vibrant being finds expression. When Charlotte says to her first boyfriend, “I thought men didn’t like girls who were prudes,” which she admits to Jacquith she had learned from novels, she displays a frankness about her own desire that is surprising in an aristocratic Boston girl. Of course Charlotte learned whatever she knows about love and sex from books—Mother certainly wouldn’t have told her anything. But Charlotte acts throughout NV with a maturity and lack of pretense around sex.

When she is preparing to leave Cascade after her first stay, Jacquith removes and breaks her glasses. “But I feel so undressed without them,” she protests. “It’s good for you to feel that way,” he replies. He has been preparing her to live an adult life, to learn to manage the vulnerability of not just feeling but some day perhaps actually being undressed in front of a man.

“But I feel so undressed without them, says Charlotte. “It’s good for you to feel that way,” says Dr. Jacquith.

Our first glimpse of Camille Beauchamp, Charlotte’s nom de cruise, still feeling fragile but looking stunning.

Upon her return, Charlotte finds the strength to defy Mother partly because of the camellias Jerry has sent.

Charlotte’s vulnerability at first makes her standoffish when she is thrown together with Tina’s father, Jerry, her soul mate. But his gentleness and small gallantries—the way he leans in when he lights her cigarette, the bottle of perfume he gives her as thanks for helping him shop for his wife and daughters—move her deeply. When she confesses that she’s the family spinster aunt and that she’s recovering from a breakdown, he doesn’t recoil. It’s only the second time in her life she has enjoyed the attentions of an attractive man, and she is still as responsive as she was on her first cruise.

One of my favorite gowns in the movie, with its plunging neckline and Jerry’s flowers, offends Mother deeply. But Charlotte has the camellias, she can’t be cowed. She knows she is loved.

And let’s face it, a Boston Vale has to be in foreign lands to fall in love outside her class. The Vales’ Boston is a tight-knit community of old, wealthy families, and Charlotte has zero social mobility when she’s at home. But on the ship, or later in a cabin in the mountains after a car accident strands them overnight, she can be herself with Jerry in a way life as a Vale denies her at home. It’s pretty clear that Charlotte and Jerry make love that night in the mountains. Later on, when Charlotte is trying to get her dull Boston fiancé to show a little sexual interest in her, she suggests they go to some little bistro, have a few drinks, perhaps loosen their inhibitions, and he is shocked. “You must think me very depraved,” she says. Well, yes, he does. But he’s a stiff, and marrying him to prove herself normal would be suicidal.

Charlotte’s single post-Cascade clunker, the dress Mother would approve, which she wears when trying to behave conventionally.

Styling and clothes are used masterfully throughout NV to express Charlotte’s inner state. Davis’s clothes were designed by Orry-Kelly, who enjoyed an excellent working relationship with her. In this scene with Elliott, the fiancé, Charlotte wears the only unbecoming dress we see her in after her recovery—it sticks out like a sore thumb. Why, I wondered, does the dress seem so wrong? Then it struck me: Because she’s betraying herself, marrying a man Mother approves of, that’s why. The dress is a busy floral print with a high neckline—it’s a dress both Elliott and Mother would find most suitable, but it does nothing for Charlotte. It’s not her. All the other clothes she wears, which she has chosen herself, are incredibly flattering. She looks fantastic—the clothes are tailored but not severe, simple and beautifully cut—as long as she is being herself. She has almost fallen into a trap, looking for approval, doing what’s expected of her. When she tells Elliott they’d better call it a day, they are both visibly relieved. I wish Elliott luck finding a wife who won’t make any distasteful sexual demands of him. But the important thing is that Charlotte’s connection to her own erotic imagination is strong enough to steer her away from this dire marriage with a man she does not really love.

One of the things I love most about NV is that it’s a movie about an adult, written for grown-ups. When life brings Charlotte a soul mate in Jerry but traps him in a loveless marriage, they don’t ditch the kids and responsibilities and run away together. No, that’s a noir setup. Charlotte makes her failed attempt to act the part of a Boston matron, but when she realizes it’s no good she doesn’t take to drink and picking up guys at a dive bar. She makes peace with being alone, which is what you do if you don’t end up with a partner and you don’t intend to ruin your life over it. Charlotte finds a way to restore herself, help Tina, and maintain a connection with Jerry. It’s by definition a sexless solution: If Jacquith finds Charlotte and Jerry even flirting, he’ll remove Tina from Charlotte’s house. It’s a huge, improvisational compromise. Jerry characteristically fumes about taking Tina away because he doesn’t want Charlotte to sacrifice herself for his child (rather dense of him). But as Charlotte famously says at the movie’s end, “Don’t ask for the moon; we have the stars.”

Charlotte thanks Jerry for their first day together—”for a few moments when I almost felt alive.”

Jerry and Charlotte don’t ride off into the sunset, but they might live happily ever after. Sort of. Sometimes life is like that, even in the movies. In the film’s final sequence we are once again at the Vale mansion where we began, but the place is transformed. When Charlotte first returned from her cruise, she shocked her brothers by ordering a fire in the drawing room. “Mother never uses that fireplace,” they say. “High time we did, then,” she says, and we see in the final scene how Charlotte’s fire has breathed new life into the old, formerly gloomy house. Now, instead of a house that cannot breathe, presided over by an miserable matriarch who cannot stand for anyone else to be happy, is a house full of life, love, and good works.

Charlotte has also been transformed from a broken person who gets her few kicks smoking, drinking, and reading naughty books in her bedroom to a woman passionately engaged with life. Really, how much happier an ending can you ask for

Charlotte and Jerry say farewell, their time together over. But look—Charlotte is blooming. This is the only floral dress she wears that suits her, reflects her inner glow.

The final scene, back at the Vale house, Tina transformed.

Jerry: Shall we have a cigarette on it? Sure, they’re rather make love, but they’ll have to settle for a Camel….

This post was written for Cinemava’s Free for All Classic Film Blogathon. Go read the other fab posts here:

https://cinemavensessaysfromthecouch.wordpress.com/2018/01/05/the-free-for-all-blogathon/

from Second Sight Cinema | http://ift.tt/2oS4KdI via http://ift.tt/1om9FS6

[speedygal]

Not a logical intervention - part 33

The sound of cats mewing on the Kirk family lot was loud and unanimous.

Spock and Kirk were sitting on two lawn chairs in front of the large, green backyard on a well kept patio. They were siting side so close that their arms and shoulders met each other. Kirk was in a colorful buttoned up shirt while the Ambassador was in insulted sweaters that seemed to fit his figure. The patio’s roof acted as a shed above the two old men surrounded by cats of various breeds left in two distinct groups. Spock handed a black and white cat to Kirk.

“Ah ha,” Kirk said, holding up a ragdoll like cat. “This is the cat, I know it!”

“That is in the reject, Jim,” Spock said. “That cat has lower intestinal problems and has a average lifespan of four years,” the elder picked up a large black cat that was seemingly a main coon variation. The cat meowed. “Average house cat lives to the age of twenty five. We are keeping one cat that has a shortened life span for you to pamper and does not have known problems.”

“I am lucky to have a husband like you,” Kirk said, placing a hand on to his chest as though he had been flattered. “Looks as though this one likes you.”

The dark cat licked along the Vulcan’s face.

“This cat is acceptable,” Spock said, lowering the purring cat to his lap. The Vulcan felt an unusual series of ridges on the cats forehead. “social, patient, and cooperative.”

“I thought all cats were that way,” Kirk said.

“The cats that had been rejected were unacceptable to leading a blind Vulcan,” Spock said. “it is time to gather all the cats.”

“I will do that,” Kirk said, placing a hand on to the Vulcan’s shoulder. “Leave that to me.”

“As you wish,” Spock said.

Kirk stood up then began to pile the cats one after another into his arms. The cats mewed moving around onto his shoulder perching themselves into place. Their claws digging into the shirts fabric. The cats mewed moving around the older man. Kirk gently used his side to slide the door open. Kirk hummed to himself with his arms full of large furballs. The door to the inside of the  house closed behind the captain. George was sitting on the couch with Winona  with Sam and Jim in their laps. Kirk walked backwards to see the sighting then smiled at it. He whistled guiding the cats after him. It was a like a colony of them following after the admiral. He opened the door to the car. All the cats jumped and went into the back.  Until there was a lone orange cat on the porch.

He checked on the navigational directions to the nearby cat park in Riverside  to drop off all the cats. He looked over his shoulder to see the cats bringing in kittens into the backseat. The cats had organized themselves in  perfect order and harmony. Kirk activated the driving setting. Kirk froze, as suddenly the ambassador’s words echoed in his mind.  “Captain... you are an excellent starship commander. But as a taxi driver, you leave much to be desired.” A fond memory from a planet neck deep into the era with slang and Brooklyn stacked houses set side by side. Cigarettes, tommy guns, and colorful suits. Kirk laughed at himself then tapped on the buttons to organize the drive. The car hovered above the ground then drove away.

Winona was awakened by the lack of noisy meows. She saw a lone orange cat laid on the seat across from them.  George was loudly snoring away. Sam was in her lap. Winona smelled a dirty diaper from Jim. Winona carefully slid the little boy alongside George then took Jim out of the man’s hand. Winona menurved Sam into George’s lap. She picked up the blue eyed baby beginning to open their eyes. She saw their blue curious eyes.  His chubby face looking on toward the woman’s eyes. Full of curiosity until Jim twisted their face and wailed. Winona speeded up stairs to Jim’s room being followed by the orange meowing cat. George awoke briefly then fell back asleep. Sam slid out of his father’s lap then waddled his way down the hall. The door to the backyard was slightly ajar. Sam slid out of the doorway then came to the patio tat ended at the line where the grass reached.

“Why is there cats?” Sam asked.

“Because we like cats,” Spock replied.

“Why?” Sm asked.

“They are likeable companions,” Spock said, as Sam walked around the elder. Spock reasoned the age of the child based off the voice. “My,” Spock grew a small smile. “you have grown, Mr Kirk.”

“Why do cats go through walls?” Sam asked, sitting down into the chair alongside the elders.

“That is a question that cannot be answered,”Spock said. “I can say they go through windows.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“In through the window,” Spock said. “Open window.”

“Oh,” Sam said, as Spock stroked the cat. “Mommy said you are family.”

“I have been and will be,” Spock said.

“Sealik?” Sam said.

“Selek,” Spock said.

“You have a funny name, Mr Sealik,” Sam said.

Spock turned his head toward the young child.

“It is,”

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Why is it made to be that way?”

“To stand out as someone else.”

“Why?”

“To stand apart.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed,”

“Where do babies come from?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“Why?”

There was a short moment of silence between the two. Spock gently stroked the cat with his fingers. His long, aged fingers stroked the cats back with a gentle stroke each time. The cat was purring softly in the vulcan’s lap. Spock was constructing his reply. At the age of four, a human being would have some grasp of logic. Vulcan children would already be like miniature adults able to say the word ‘logical’ in a suitable situation that required the phrase. A stoic mask on their face hiding their emotions. Spock sighed, coming to a perhaps logical conclusion. He turned his head in the direction of Sam.

“Because I am not your father,” Spock said. “It is not logical to take the conversation away,” he painfully closed his eyes as a memory crossed his mind. turning his head away.  “I have taken the fact of not knowing the future.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “Where did Uncle Jameson come from?”

“Alpha Centauri,” Spock lied.

“Why?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Because it is a nice place to hide out from relatives,” Spock said.

“I see,” Sam said.  Sam went quiet. Sam observed Spock’s eyes aimed at the sky rather than on the cat. Sam looked up in the direction that  Spock was looking in. It was the sun rather than a cloud. Spock did not seem to be bothered by gazing at it. He turned his attention onto the elder. “You’re blind.”

“Yes,” Spock said.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Because I was in the dark too long,” Spock said. “Given what Doctor Talron told me, I spent two weeks in pitch black. I damaged my eyes during the process of re-adjusting them.”

“Two weeks. . .” Sam repeated.

“Two weeks,” Spock replied.

“Can you see light?” Sam asked.  Spock turned his head in the direction of Sam giving concerned expression. “Curious,” Spock raised his right eyebrow. “Being blind is a mystery that needs answers.”

Spock gave an amused glance with a small nod in agreement.

“I see nothing,” Spock said. “I see nothing at all.”

The memory of pain in his eyes upon awaking was firmly imprinted in his mind. Pain that he will never forget. The unexpected bright lighting in the cell. Spock remembered the brightness clearly. The light piercing through his eyelids. It felt like his eyes were on fire, stinging, as though a dozen of thin gray needles had pierced through them. The strong intensity of the light. Spock had sensed the commander of the vessel standing across from him. Spock refused to scream kneeling over to his side with one hand on the wall with his other hand on his face trying to shield them. It had caught his secondary eye lid off guard. Spock had seen enough of the light to have severe eye damage. A minute worth of damage, permanent damage. Sam was silent looking over in the direction of the elder feeling bad for him. Sam and Spock were silent sitting together in the lawn chairs.

“What are you going to name the cat?”  Sam asked.

“I was thinking of . . .” Spock paused. “Italian.”

“Good choice,” Sam said.

“I agree,” Spock said. “Time will only tell for my husband’s choice on the name of his cat. That I shall approve of unconditionally.”