See Yourself Be Yourself

 

[46] Spoons

They both quietly ate their cookies and sipped their milk as Lillis turned down most of the lights and waved good night before heading back upstairs.

Once the creaks and settling of the apartment faded, with just some distant dogs yelping somewhere outside, it was just the two of them in the evening quiet. Misty’s leg felt better than earlier, but it still tingled with the memory of the Administrator’s menace.

She set that memory aside as firmly as she could and asked Valerie, "What would you like to do?"

Leaning back, Valerie looked over at the television before glancing at Misty. Her eyes widened. "Oh! You should wash up too."

Some small part of Misty considered asking if she’d like to do that together with her. At the same moment, a little flare of a smile crossed Valerie’s face. Misty almost smiled back before she stifled the impulse.

“Wanna do it together?”

She didn’t just say that out loud, right. Shit. It’s okay. Joking smile.

“Well, umm, heh. Maybe I could help you dry your hair afterwards?” Valerie assembled those sentences without crumbling, though her voice did have to flutter and linger over the words.

Misty looked over Valerie’s hair with the sudden desire to brush it out, which she also voiced. “I’d love to help with yours too.”

Reaching back, Valerie touched her relatively short black hair as though concerned she might have lost it like an errant wig. “It’s practically dry already.”

"I know Lillis has some big brushes. Let me help you get the tangles out." Misty gently persisted.

As one last, futile effort, Valerie quickly countered, “I need to get it ready for you so… so. Oh, okay. But it’s fine to just leave it. I just let it go whatever way it wants.” She rubbed a warm patch under her hairline and dipped her head forward as if anticipating an executioner’s blade.

Misty gave Valerie a little peck on the cheek, and Valerie wobbled with the touch. Then she followed it up with a second one. Valerie ventured to lift her head and cautiously smile. Misty rushed over to the nearest bathroom, and it didn’t take her long to find exactly the brush she wanted. It was blue, with a lot of black spikies poking up like tiny porcupine quills.

When she was Brent, Misty remembered that Mom taught him how to brush hair. Every step of the process was criticized and she even dug her nails into his arm because she thought he was brushing too hard. He was genuinely doing his best. But it didn’t matter.

Misty knew that Valerie wouldn’t be upset no matter the job she did, but the fear of causing her pain loomed. Carefully, she reflected on the way she’d learned it and slowly worked.

She started near the ends, with her hands supporting the lock as she brushed. The strokes came slow. The bristles barely grazed her scalp. Soon, she found a steady tempo working through Valerie’s hair. A small sound came from her, which caused Misty to pause. Checking her friend, Misty saw that Valerie had actually settled into a nap.

Continuing to ascend her hair slowly, Misty made sure that the brush didn’t catch even once. It was more like gently tracing the strings on a guitar than pulling out tangles. Still, Valerie napped beside her. So peaceful.

Misty smiled at her and wished that she had a blanket to offer, but that would require getting up and probably rousing Valerie. So she stayed there and worked calmly. Her wrists started to complain, but she refused to waver.

Eventually, the brush slid through her hair as if it were no impediment at all. The tips lightly curled but settled soon, like a smooth pool. With even strokes, Misty continued to brush her hair, like rowing through that water. The best moment was when Valerie let out a sigh of clear, serene contentment.

Checking for any last patches to tame, Misty squinted at an errant bit on the far side. It perched and curled like peeling black wallpaper. She was about to guide it into place again when the hair settled on its own, as if dodging the bristles. Looking again, she could see no sign the hair had ever curled up. Shrugging to herself, she stroked Valerie’s gentle locks several more times until her friend’s eyes gradually fluttered open.

Sighs instead of words followed a languid yawn as Valerie asked, "Sorry. I fell asleep. You can start."

Puzzled, Valerie touched her hair and seemed confused about where it lay. Misty offered a hand mirror from the bathroom as Valerie marveled at the small but still significant transformation.

She grinned at her reflection, and that was more than enough for Misty. But it wasn’t long before she looked over and asserted that Misty needed to shower and have her damp hair brushed properly. Valerie also inspected the nails she’d done over the weekend and could easily see the flaws in her work, but left them for now with a yawn and lightly fussed with her hair for not being in the places she expected to find it.

When Misty got up, Valerie slowly drifted to sprawl across the couch, promising that she was just keeping the spot warm for her and that she was gonna put on some YouTube pizza stuff to stay awake until she got back, but her lazy yawns said that tiredness was wrapping her up.

No matter what happened while she was gone, she made sure Valerie got a big knit blanket that covered her entire body. Despite pulling the blanket up, Valerie made a careful, conscious effort to keep it below her head and kept smoothing down her brushed hair so it settled neatly against the couch cushion. She then made faint overtures toward looking for the streaming apps on the television while Misty went to wash up.

Showers had been something she had to mentally prepare herself for. Less so in the most recent days, but thinking about the kinship she shared with Valerie made it feel a little nicer to be showering, even if it was a body she’d only been dealing with these few short weeks. Routine settled into all the cracks. This was just life.

She was more concerned about running into another shadow something, especially since it might be some dark representative of the boutique slipping between universes. Closing her eyes for a while, she did feel the nightlight cast less of a glow when she looked toward the sink while finishing up. Like a general wave of shadow. Usually, letting your eyes rest meant you could see better in the dark. So this didn’t make sense, but she didn’t sense malice. At least she told herself that.

Big boobs. They were there. In the close, clinging, humid air of the restroom they were another fact of life. Almost everyone saw them first as a downward greeting glance. She saw them first when assessing herself. Still there? All right. Normal. She traced her still-wet hair but left it as it fell for Valerie.

Misty didn’t need Lillis's loaners since she still had other fresh loaners from parallel universes, but she appreciated that her friend had put out a few options in the bedroom when she checked, before snoozing to earbud-wafted Japanese tunes. The colors she picked were a little brighter than Valerie’s usual, but they suited the feeling she wanted to carry to bed.

Downstairs, she found Valerie with her eyes lightly shut in full sprawl mode, but Misty’s footsteps on the stairs were enough to rouse her into the wide-eyed struggle of waking up.

Between yawns, Valerie shifted to give her room and carefully cleaned the pokey brush of every last remnant of her hair before Misty could begin. She appreciated it, even though she didn’t mind sharing hairs with Valerie.

Mirroring what Misty had done, Valerie placed the brush against Misty’s bright blonde hair and took a breath, her eyes tightened against any drowsiness. Misty felt bad that there was so much more hair on her own head than on Valerie’s, so this would probably take longer, even though her hair was a lot straighter.

With a cautious, experimental stroke, Valerie pulled the brush through Misty’s wet hair. She applied a little too much force to the endeavor and tugged through her hair before pulling away. A quiet “shit” slipped under her breath before a quick apology. Misty smiled and told her it was fine. She also offered to guide her through the steps she’d used. Valerie watched the instructions and mimed the strokes.

When she picked up the effort, she still yanked at a few hairs. Misty resisted all signs of discomfort as Valerie worked to hold a lock before running through it. She tried so hard, but it just didn’t click for her. Slow, gradual efforts hurt the least, but they took her a bit longer.

At the end, Misty’s hair had a bounce and a flair that looked unique, and Misty pointed out that Valerie had given her hair character.

Hunched forward, face all but hidden aside from her hair and the blanket, Valerie sniffled lightly, with tears dangling in her voice, desperately swallowed back as she fought a sob. Misty rubbed her shoulder lightly.

“I suck. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t say that. But it’s my truth, no matter what I do. I write a story with mythology, cuteness, epic possibilities, and it’s never quite finished. Same for the spooky boy-love tale of whispers. So many paintings never quite there, so many songs as idle efforts, so much junk.”

Misty squeezed Valerie tight. With a sigh, Valerie leaned away but not too hard.

“I’m not fishing for compliments. I know you want to counter all this. But just listen a moment. I refuse to put you in a situation where you have to exhaust yourself for someone else. You have been through a lot and I don’t want to be the next person you have to be strong to get through. Please. I need to set that ground rule. Partnership instead. I’m gonna have nights when I feel like crap. Just let me go off on me.”

Bracing herself, Misty absorbed all that. She tensed up with all the automatic habits of comforts and counters. Valerie leveled her eyes. Misty’s mouth felt dry, so she took a sip of water from nearby before answering.

“All right. Go. Whatever you need.”

Her voice a bit nasal despite her best efforts to clear it, Valerie continued, “I’m so lonely. I was lonely even with the group at the meet-up. And it sucked that everyone turned to focus on me just because I had a stupid fucking hissy fit with my controller. Why did I do that?

“Oh, Lillis. Super helpful Lillis. I hate when everyone turns to me, because in my heart I know it’s gonna be because of disappointment or something bad I did. I feel I'm so nothing and nobody. Just blackness. A mess thrown together…”

Valerie slumped against Misty, leaning so much of her weight on her with little grunts of exhaustion. At the same time, she tried to move that weight away so that she was the only one who had to bear it. But Misty kept her from going too far.

“I don’t want to be a mess. I want to help. I don’t want others to have to support me. I wish I could’ve caught that bastard. Saved Vivi’s phone. I want to tell my stories right, with happiness and joy overcoming fear and darkness. That’s the way it should be. Life should have the bright shine of Tara lighting the way to truth.

“There’s a spoiler, but I need to say it. In the story, it turns out Tara used to be an old man with a loving wife who was deaf and sick. She passes away and Tara, Aaron before, just wants to help even the baddie of the story. I think she actually saved the day in the darkest hour for the characters. I wanna be like that.

“That old man, Ellis, we met at the game café made me think of Aaron a little bit. Hopefully he’s okay and we see him again. Darn it…”

Misty silently raised an eyebrow, and Valerie explained with part of a frown, “I was on a path of really good self-loathing and sadness, but thinking about Ellis and Tara screwed it up. You always have to watch out for Tara, slayer of frowns.

“The problem is, even at the end of a smile, life is still there with all the things that hurt, to be afraid of, and to fight against. I just wanna be genuinely happy, but happiness feels like something stranded on the moon and all I have is a little plastic spoon to somehow dig my way up.”

Absorbing that sentiment for several seconds, Misty carefully slipped away from Valerie, her hand trailing after her for a moment. She moved swiftly to the kitchen while keeping her eyes on her friend. Valerie looked uncertain but leveled her head with curiosity more than fear. Searching carefully, Misty dug around until she found what she wanted.

Returning to the couch, she presented Valerie with a little plastic spoon, similar to the kind she’d alluded to. A simple, rather fragile white one from Walmart. Misty held a spoon much the same next to Valerie’s.

“Your spoon, my spoon. I promise not to give away my spoon. Let’s share spoons, that way we can get to the moon in half the time.”

Looking between the spoons as Misty lightly crossed hers, trying to make a little heart with the ends, Valerie tried to steady herself with a breath, but it was a futile effort. She broke down crying while trying to suppress the sound of it, her face curled in waves of tears.

Balancing and rocking as she wrapped her arms around Valerie, Misty returned to a gentle hum of the silly, sweet little fragment of a song she’d offered to her friend. Between tears, Valerie heaved the weight of so many apologies like she was trying to fling boulders above her head.

The crying didn’t last that long, and Misty gave her plenty of water so she could compose herself.

“God, I’m tired,” Valerie said, still trying to kick the nasal block. “Are you comfortable here on the couch? Is this enough blanket? We need to make sure… neither of us slip out. Can we make it work with the two of us?”

Misty checked the width of the couch. It wasn’t anywhere close to a king or queen bed, but she could find enough space for them to spread out together. They could even set up at opposite ends and figure something out.

Puzzling through it for a few minutes, Misty retrieved extra blankets, stretched them between them, and shifted herself so she was on the outside with an insulating, protective pillow-and-blanket wall, while Valerie had enough lingering space without being smushed against the cushion. There wasn’t a lot of room to stretch, and they could probably find more relaxed arrangements, but as soon as they settled into their positions, Valerie squeezed Misty while trying not to crush her.

The room was warm, a faint chill lingering that the heater’s efforts barely dispelled.

“I love you…” The words came out like Valerie was trying to mime them with all the strength they had left, and they still found enough voice to be heard, barely above a ghostly whisper.

Settling into their shared spot as a warm bundle of both of them, Misty reciprocated in the lightest voice, “I love you.”

Misty resisted the urge to peek at the dim lights around them. Since the bathroom, it had felt like a shadowy veil lay across her eyes. Memories of the other night and the cruel face of the Administrator threatened to pry her lids open, and every restless thought teased her mind into imagining menace just beyond the shadows. She shivered privately despite the warmth of Valerie.

Right as it seemed that an invisible claw might scratch enough to tempt her to look, she felt something rise.

Against the edge of the couch, she could sense a presence like a floating shield, an insulating wall of protection. It rippled while standing firm against outside forces, like a bat wing holding her up and holding everything back. The shield comforted her with the lightest touch.

It felt so much like Valerie. Beautiful, like she imagined touching a manta ray, velvet iron wrapped in gentle obsidian. She didn’t have to fear the edge or the darkness. She enjoyed the serenity with the faint sounds of Valerie breathing.

But, inevitably, curiosity won. Misty poked an eye open and took in the room. As she logically expected, no shield flanked them. But the smoky, lingering pall had lifted, and the space appeared so much brighter. It wasn’t early enough for morning light, so she rationally deduced it was just her eyes adapting. Perfectly sensible.

She managed to get in a few more hours of sleep before it was time to get ready for work. Valerie was actually the best alarm. Without needing to check her phone, she knew it was within a few minutes of the time Misty needed to get up.

Between prep and morning chores, with Lillis orbiting but not nearby, Misty inquired about Valerie’s workday.

"Sometimes deliveries. I had a graphic design project along with freelance work online. Some commissions. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough for me right now. I don’t know if either of us mentioned it, but I just can’t deal with the boutique, even though I got an offer to work there. Probably for the best with everything.

“Although I could be like a little double agent. Oh, you thought I was one of your workers, but I’m actually the president of the group that’s taking you down! I wouldn’t say that out loud, but I’d think it.”

Valerie worried she was talking too much, but Misty assured her that every word was a treasured one. In turn, Valerie cautioned her that she could often get quite verbose when writing. Misty welcomed it.

"You might wanna turn off audio notifications on your phone at work," Lillis warned her while walking by.

With an audible sigh, Valerie asserted that she wouldn’t text that much. Although she agreed in theory about putting a phone on silent, she also wanted to make it clear that it didn’t necessarily have to be because of her alone. Misty understood and put specific alerts from Valerie under a vibration notification. Lillis sighed but didn’t say anything further.

The first vibration came before Lillis even started the truck. Valerie had found an unusual insect on the pavement between the apartments and wanted to share it. It looked scary and matched something she identified as similar to a bug that could cause a lot of pain if stepped on, so Valerie steered quite clear of it.

Halfway to work, Valerie nudged her with another image. This one was art, a cute sketch Misty marveled at for several seconds before mentioning it to Lillis at a moment that didn’t distract her from driving. Nodding, Lillis noted that Valerie had been working on something in the art area in the bedroom of her apartment.

The sketch was of Misty in her uniform with a few rough details along the lapel. She was smiling with her right fist raised in determination, and her hair was brightly rendered as a lovely swoop. In the sketchy area around her, Valerie had included a trio of hearts with matching sparkles and a pair of dogs with paw prints at the bottom of the work.

“Cute. She draws nice puppies,” Lillis commented after a friendly glance.

Misty made sure she saved the image in as many places as her phone would allow. Then she pleaded with Valerie to save the original, which Valerie assured her she had.

This was only the beginning.

As she was getting logged in and set for work, Misty felt another message from Valerie. This time it was an older sketch she said she’d touched up, with her character of Tara. It both surprised and didn’t surprise Misty that the character was a blonde. Valerie sent a long qualification about when she’d made the character, with the clear intent of saying any resemblance to anyone was purely coincidental.

If Misty were a teen with longer hair and bright blue eyes, then they could’ve been close. Energy and joy projected from the sketch, which Misty wished upon Valerie today, and Valerie answered with a few emojis like she always leaned on.

That was the last of the morning sketches, but Valerie’s comments were a regular companion as she pondered a lot of random story ideas—like more ocean scenes in her spooky whisper tale, and wondering what her muse would look like in a hoodie like her usual outfit. She sent a picture of Little Lillis all dusted and cleaned, joking about nudist shots. Misty sent along a bunch of emojis herself.

Work was brisk but normal. Requests came in: asking to observe alternate versions of Joan of Arc, including a few who wound up as Pope; hunting for undiscovered math theorems; wanting a burger from a place that no longer existed here. Misty thought that last one might be denied because of a quantum mismatch, but it went through.

The one that made her stop and focus involved a woman in her thirties who had a complicated story to tell. Less than a week ago, she’d had an outpatient procedure, and when she got home, she was disturbed to see that a feature around her dog’s eye had switched from the left side to the right.

She figured it was just the anesthetic messing with her, but a silly song her husband had written about the dogs’ markings no longer existed, and all the evidence of it on her phone had been altered. Even the way her four-month-old child’s name was written had changed. She feared she was having a psychotic break, but then her husband insisted he’d never seen the rose tattoo on her hip before, even though she clearly remembered getting it a decade ago.

Her doctor suspected it was a bad drug interaction, but she wanted to see if she had jumped realities and, “My real daughter and husband are out there thinking I’m gone, or another me replaced me.”

Misty clutched her sleeves and listened with quiet sympathy. She wanted to tell the woman that this was the worst place she could go if she remembered changes.

On the tablet, Misty made sure to note that the client was just exploring hypotheticals, along with whatever other phrasing she could use to blunt the details of the request. Searching was also incredibly difficult because she had no idea what prompt might trigger the system to get suspicious.

All the while, the woman stared at the table with her arms folded and her head almost buried in them. Misty took down her information so she might be able to keep in contact with her and maybe she could be added to a class action. Or something, at least.

The specifics she was looking for were too small and precise to accurately track. The system was geared toward the big differences. A slightly different spelling of a newborn’s name just wasn’t enough public information to go on. Before she left, though, Misty passed her a tiny handwritten note with some email information—for Prentiss—even though she didn’t include a name.

"Check this, for searching."

The woman looked quite confused, but she could tell from Misty’s body language not to pry further. She crumpled up the note and hid it in her purse, then quickly left the boutique. Fortunately, Misty was able to track her a ways from the store. No vanishing today, thank God.

The boutique air was on a rough, cold automatic setting, and the weather was rethinking its spring progress. When she first started, Misty’s physical reactions to that would’ve bothered her or freaked her out.

But today, she just accepted it. Play the role. Let her nipples go. They wanted her to attract customers, and they couldn't be bothered to fix the AC, and this was the uniform. And she had this body because of this place. Deal with it.

Maybe she should’ve expected it, but her numbers before clocking out were 100% positive. She couldn’t resist laughing as she leaned against the break room wall.

Each nipple hurt like a bitch, though in unique ways. The left was puffy and achy down through the flesh. Meanwhile, the right was more chill but painful to touch around the nipple. She could hardly wait for a nice, warm shower to mollify them.

There was a small staff shower, but she knew it hadn’t been cleaned in a while and was rarely used. Some of the suites had showers, but they were off-limits to employees. And they’d already had the last clients of the day. She could wait.

“Hey… err, hi.” A sweet, hesitant, familiar voice. Valerie raised her hand halfway at the entrance and tried a few different variations of a smile, with her teeth peeking out.

Misty immediately rushed over and wrapped her up in a hug. She emulated the exuberance and cheer that the art of Tara demonstrated. Looking at Valerie, she was startled but not unhappy. Her face was red and her eyes wide with so much shimmering green. Still trying to get her mouth to behave in smile form, Valerie glanced down, her arms carefully reaching around, lightly restrained by Misty’s embrace.

"It's great to see you again!" Misty announced.

“Oh… you too. I’m surprised you missed me. I worried I was being a bother, sending all that. But I’m getting better at telling myself it’s fine.” Valerie’s voice was small but clear.

Just as she had in the morning, Misty pressed again that sending messages was great and that they helped get her through the day. Uncertain but trusting her, Valerie nodded and released a quiet breath.

“I took the bus here. Nothing wrong with my car. I just wanted to be here at the end of your day and for it to be a little bit of a surprise. I sent a message to Lillis and she’ll be a little while, wrapping up stuff, you know, the usual. Did you want to do a little window shopping together? I’m not much for fashion, but I can offer my honest takes.”

Misty felt the same way, but then Brent had so very few regular outfits in rotation and living with Dina only led to an incremental change. If she could avoid blank, mindless horrors, then just grabbing the best option from a neighboring universe would be fine as opposed to having to sift through options that didn't look interesting or were too expensive.

Valerie favored a handful of charity thrift shops near the less trafficked end of the center. It was easy to find some big goofy ugly Christmas sweaters and a bright silly outfit to possibly cosplay a certain recent former president. Misty had no idea what she was looking for, and her nose was left a little itchy but the company was well worth it. She left that thought alone, since Vivi made better cute quips about the company.

Plenty of dresses loomed on the racks like bright fabric blooms. They looked more intimidating than they should've been. She would absolutely fit into several of the options by the wall.

Just clothes. Just normal clothes for her to wear. Clothes weren't really gendered in any way. It was just cloth of a certain style. The skirts were practically unadorned kilts. In other cultures and other times it was just a different cut of clothing. She'd already breached the threshold of a bra and plenty of other stuff. This wasn't a big deal. Still, it was intimidating.

However, the nicest one was only a few bucks. Cash only. No chance to try it on. No returns. Valerie assured her it looked cute.

It was blue with little patches of gold. Appropriate to the ominous color scheme that kept popping up in her life. Maybe this was the prognostication of all those signs. The light of truth.

The material felt nice, and if she didn't like it, it was no great loss. Misty's heart raced a little at the register. She was buying a dress. And no one cared. As to be expected. But it still felt weird.

The clerk rang it up like she was going through the motions but not to a supernatural degree, just the end of a long shift.

As they walked, Misty couldn't keep herself from checking out the bag with her dress. A dress for her. A dress for her to wear. No matter how she phrased it, that still felt so weird.

On the practical side, there were some nice coats, but the current chill was expected to lift within a few days and the full normalcy of oppressive Southern California weather settle into place, probably for as long as they could imagine. They also passed on the shoes.

The little accessories at the front caught their eyes, with the hair adornments looking the most intriguing. They ultimately didn't buy anything else, but Misty enjoyed looking through them and having Valerie hold them against her head.

After that, they just roamed, with Valerie again treating Misty to a drink like back at the arcade. Lillis caught up with them around the entrance to the boutique. She looked just as tired as Misty felt but had news to report.

“Elisa and Prentiss are having a judo event tonight. Vivi isn’t available, but Dawn and Tracy can make it, and May and Max are maybes. Unfortunately, I am falling asleep here, so… Misty. Or Val. Whoever feels up to it: you’re the designated driver. I’ll put the route into the dash. At least it’s not a Friday.”