Standin' On the Edge (epilogue)
RJ Ferrance, DC, MD (rferrance@VCU.ORG)
Tue, 6 Feb 2001 12:50:43 -0500
Her Nike sneakers were much more forgiving of the gravel than her Bruno
Magli's had been. The stones crunched gently beneath her feet as she made
her way toward the front door, at least as tentatively as the first time
she'd done so.
She hadn't had Duck in mind as a destination when she'd left Charleston. At
least, she didn't think she had.
But she was here now, and since she could feel his Presence, he could
certainly feel hers. And that made getting back in the car and driving away
an act of pure cowardice.
And she was pretty sure that cowardice wouldn't qualify as an act of
maturity or sophistication.
She was grateful that he did her the courtesy of letting her knock on the
door before he opened it. Matt Brennan was dressed much as he had been the
last time she'd seen him. If he was surprised to see her, he didn't show
it. His eyes did linger on the new haircut, though, and she could have
sworn that was an approving look in his eyes before they went impassive
again. "Fancy meeting you here," he quipped, his voice flat and humorless.
She tried a smile, but couldn't sustain it. "Matt, I have a confession to
make," she said quickly before she could lose her courage. "Last time I was
here, I came because Amanda asked me to."
He nodded, still standing in the doorway, not chasing her away yet not
inviting her in. "I know," he told her.
She hoped she looked appropriately apologetic. She sure as hell felt it.
"She asked me to come spend some time with you so that I could steal
something from you. She wanted a look at the novel you were writing."
It was longer in coming this time, but finally he nodded again. "I
eventually figured that out," he added.
"She just wanted to see if you were writing about her," she said quickly.
Defending Amanda wouldn't be easy, but she had to at least try.
"And simply asking me would have been too ... what?" he asked. "Difficult?
Honest?" He put cynical emphasis on 'honest'.
"It wouldn't have been the 'Amanda Way'," she clarified.
His look softened. "Well, there is that," he agreed quietly.
There was one more step she needed to make. She just needed to find the
words.
"So, did Amanda send you back?" he asked. If he was angry, he wasn't
showing it. Or maybe he was and she just didn't recognize it.
"No," she said quickly. "I came here on my own. To... apologize."
Now he looked surprised. "To apologize?" he asked. "You realize that
offering an apology hints that you feel you did something wrong and that
hints at something we call a conscience."
Geez, he could be a smart-ass. "Yes," she said, taking it contritely. "I
realize that."
"If you in fact have found a conscience, then Amanda's going to be quite
disappointed in you."
Michelle shrugged, and wished he'd quit punishing her. She had the distinct
impression that he could lecture her to death. A good old fashioned
spanking would have been easier to take. "Well," she ventured, "maybe right
now I'd rather have her disapprove of me... than you."
"Maybe?" he pushed.
She sighed. "Okay, not maybe." This had definitely gotten old, and if he
was going to be a pain in the ass about it, then he could be a pain in the
ass without her there. "I'm sorry, Brennan. A thousand times, I'm sorry.
Won't do it again, won't bother you again. Goodbye." She turned on her
heel and headed back toward her car.
"Wait."
She stopped and, a moment later, turned, not knowing what to expect. If he
was going to keep badgering her, then she was so out of here.
He shrugged. "If you can be big enough to apologize, then I can stop being
an asshole. Apology accepted."
She stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, wondering if this had gone as
far as it could go, if she'd pushed as far as she could push. "I was
wondering," she tried, "if maybe we could get along better if I didn't have
some ulterior motive."
He looked wary. "You're asking... to stay for awhile more?" he asked her.
She shrugged, her hands working into the pockets of her shorts. "You're
pretty old, and, well, you know a lot of stuff. I'm sure there are a lot of
things Amanda hasn't taught me that I should know." The shrug again.
"You're asking to be my student?" It didn't sound as if he liked the idea.
She looked away for moment, but quickly looked back. "Yeah, I guess I am.
For awhile, anyway." Her hands came out of her pockets and she crossed her
arms up high, holding onto herself for support. "Look, Matt, one day I'm in
New York taking the head of some guy I have no right being able to kill.
The next day I'm in BFE North Carolina, stealing from a guy I have no right
to rob." A moment later she put words to the feeling that had been creeping
up through her brain for the past few days. "That's... not the kind of
woman I want to grow up to be," she finished softly.
He was shaking his head. But she could tell she was getting to him.
"Michelle, I told you before, I've got so much psychopathology going on
right now -"
"Yes, you do," she told him, taking a deep, steadying breath. "And one of
those problems is that you're one-half Boy Scout and one-half White Knight,
and you're not happy unless someone needs you for something." There. It
was one of the first things Amanda had ever told her about Matt. Was he
gonna yell at her over it?
His jaw worked a few times. "You could have left out the 'Boy Scout' part,"
he finally said.
She took a few tentative steps back toward him. "And maybe you've noticed
that there are a lot of things I need. I still have so much to learn." The
shrug yet again.
He shrugged now, too, a motion that used his head more than his shoulder.
"Well, you're young," he rationalized.
She let that go. "I love Amanda, and she taught me how to survive. But
there are things Amanda maybe isn't the best person to teach me. Things
about life, doing right by other people, living with things that aren't
fair... like having to kill to stay alive. You," she pointed out, "could
show me a lot about that. I need you to show me." A pause, then a
tentative, "Please? Think of me as ... as a merit badge project," she
teased. Then she added, "I may have to look young forever, but I don't have
to be immature forever."
He was shaking his head. "We could keep each other from growing," he
pointed out.
"Or," she tried, looking him directly in the eye, "we could grow together."
His eyes moved off into the distance as he chewed thoughtfully on his lip.
Finally they came back to focus on hers. "And if not," he said, "I guess we
could always burn that bridge when we come to it."
She nodded. Her shoulders were getting tired from all the shrugging. "If
it doesn't work out, we can always get the swords out," she said, chancing a
small grin. "We can always hate each other later."
That thing in his eyes flickered again. So it hadn't been the candles.
"Promise?" he asked her.
Her face split into a wide smile as she offered her hand for him to shake.
"Promise."
He stood back to let her into the house. "But if you try and bake pizza
again," he warned her, "you're so outta here."
****************************************************
RJ Ferrance, DC, MD
Combined Internal Med/Pediatrics Resident
Medical College of Virginia Hospitals
Richmond, VA 23298
rferrance@vcu.org
http://views.vcu.edu/~medtoast/anvil.html