NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction. Click on Archives on the right.
“Bel and I used to hang out here a lot.”
“Used to, Daisy?”
“While Steve was away for months on some hush hush mission.”
“I didn’t know he was a ‘spook’.
“I don’t think he was spy. Come to think of it, the trick or treaters were coming round at the time. He may have been ‘spooked’ this one time. By the way, that’s an unfortunate word to use.”
“It is?’
“Don’t you know it’s racially offensive?”
“I have heard, but didn’t think it was all that sensitive.”
”Oh it can be.”
“Where did Steve go?”
“An undisclosed location.”
“There must have been quite a crowd!”
“Yeah, imagine Steve, Mr. Progressive from Woollett Massachusetts, with all those Bush/Cheney people!”
“Bel used to joke that he was having an affair.”
“A trophy girl friend?”
“No with the Neoconservatives!”
“Oh an intellectual affair, the most dangerous of all.”
I am sitting with Daisy Brisco reminiscing at a table in front of the big bay window at the H-Bar, waiting for Bel Vionnet and her husband Steve Strether to join us for lunch.
“We’d talk about the Guild a lot. Trying to get the community together. Once we had to reschedule an important business meeting to raise the water fee because there wasn’t a quorum.”
“It’s livening up now though.”
“Oh Boyd is stirring things up! Why do I love that idiot? I don’t think any one is going to take him seriously do you?”
“Yes lots of people.”
“Not in this neighborhood.”
Daisy springs out of her chair pushing it back against an empty one at the next table. The couple sitting there doesn’t notice. Their empty dishes are pushed aside. He is texting and she is facing away towards the window with her phone up to her ear. Bel has walked up behind me. Without turning around I hear Daisy exchanging high pitched affections with Bel. Bel sits next to me without Steve, greeting me in her gentle voice.
“Hi Fred, good to meet our newest Fauxmonter.”
“No Steve today?”
“No Daisy he’s with Lambert.”
Daisy leans over the back of her chair in front of the window, looking down into to Bel’s face. “Is something wrong with him Bel?” Daisy’s long straight black hair hangs slightly forward down past each cheek leaving her face in deep shadow.
“We don’t know yet. Lambert didn’t eat his floor food.” Bel is talking through a slight smile. Her face is round with eyes far apart.
“Floor food! What’s that?”
“Lambert is a Westie Fred. He likes to hunt for his food, so Steve spreads his kibbles around the Kitchen floor and puts a few in the hall.”
Daisy sits down awkwardly, first bending her long legs to the side and moving her knees around under the table without bumping into Bel or jogging the table. “How about water?” She doesn’t look up to speak.
“We have a bowl for him, and there’s a bowl of canned food next to his water. He likes his branch water when we’re out in the woods.”
“Are you taking him in Bel?”
“Daisy, Steve is going to watch him for a while then we’ll decide about the vet.”
A waitress is standing by Daisy who has grabbed her hand looking up at her. She introduces us with a slow sweep of her arm over the table pausing and opening her hand at mention of our names. There’s a clatter of dishes and I miss the waitress’s name but she plays drums for “Toxic Blob”, Liberty Trip’s band. She nods to each of us as we are indicated by Daisy’s open hand, takes our orders for lunch, and moves off quickly. Daisy is reluctant to let her go holding on as long as possible and leaves her arm outstretched for a moment after she’s gone.
“Daisy will you let the girl do her job!”
“I’m not thru with her yet Bel … want to hear about the band.”
“Lunch would be nice.”
“Bel it wouldn’t have taken long.”
“She doesn’t have long. Look around. It’s filing up in here.”
Daisy takes off her bowler puts it on the table and a small piece of paper falls out of the hat band.
“What is this?” Bel has picked it up from the table.
“That’s my lucky ten pound note.”
“Not your usual shopping list.”
“No it’s a reminder. I’ll spend it in London, if I get over there.”
“Are you going to visit your aunt?”
“No Aunt Agatha is long gone. I still have her stories though.”
“I spent time in London as a kid. My best friend in boarding school invited me to spend a summer vacation at her grandparent’s. Funny how vivid some of it is now, and the rest most deliquescent. ”
“Deli-what Bel?”
“Deliquescent Daisy, as in melting away. I just heard Julian Barnes use it on the radio.”
I asked about the school, and found it was in New Zealand where her Mother was born. Her Father was from Cote d’Ivoire and worked for the World Bank. Daisy puts her hat back on. Opening the zip on her purple leather shoulder bag she rummages for her phone, but its not hers. The sound is coming from the next table. She stretches a long arm around Bel’s shoulders. “We are so lucky to have her Fred. Here you are then face to face at last.”
“Have you been waiting long for this moment Daisy?”
“I have heard a great deal about you chairing the Guild meetings. I asked Daisy when and where would I meet Bel?”
“Fred I am lucky to be here. Half my Father’s family have been killed in the rebellion.”
“I am sorry, are you close to them?”
“No I hardly know them and only got this news by chance. My Father let much of his past fade from his mind. He joined the World Bank and regarded himself as a World Citizen.”
“You’re closer to your Mom’s side aren’t you Bel?” Daisy released Bel’s shoulders.
Bel draws back from Daisy.
“Don’t pull me off my chair, okay!”
“You’re safe with me sweetie.”
“I am half white and wholly devoted to this community.”
They are both laughing. Bel’s heavy breasts shake under her turtleneck and she raises her slender hands to give a single clap over her head. Daisy does the same, which leads to a moment of solemn silence regarding Steve’s empty chair. They seem to be following a ritual shared by close friends and known only to them.
“Fred, I find a lot of folks in Fauxmont just want some one to listen to them.
It’s an important part of my job on the Guild.” Daisy has folded her arms on the table with the rap and rattle of gold bracelets and bangles. She leans toward Bel.
“I know you’ve spent a long time listening to me.”
“If people want to talk to me I’ll listen. Folks talk to themselves when they talk to each other.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever told yourself something new when you’re in conversation?”
“Oh yes, it can be a clarification too. I know, but some people get into endless monologues.”
“That’s something else Daisy.”
“What are getting at?”
“When talking to other people I am also talking to myself and sometimes
that’s revealing but it’s not a monologue.”
“You make it so easy Bel.”
“I do like to ask questions. You can say a lot with questions.”
“Bel honey, that’s what therapy is all about.”
“You know I am skeptical about that.”
“I know Bel, and I don’t get it. You’d be such a great therapist.”
“Daisy did your therapy help? Can you sum it up?”
“Oh it’s complicated, and more personal than I want to get into here.”
“I know honey and if it helped you I am delighted.” Bel looks down at the table quietly, her face relaxed. Lunch is served.
