noteasytobepink | Wheelsy AU ~ Phonecall 1

Wheelsy AU ~ Phonecall 1

Starla tapped her fingers on the counter and held the phone tucked next to her ear. It was clean, and neat, but not exactly the color she'd wanted for her kitchen. She'd have to see if the rental agreement would let her change the counters to something lighter, something less black marble and more wood perhaps? A light pine? Regardless, it was something to think about while the phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Of course Bill wasn't home, it was the middle of the day over on that coast! Why had she thought he might be? She nibbled a lip and heard the distinctive rattle of the answering machine getting ready to click over. All the money the government had thrown at Wheelsy to get it rebuilt from it's 'natural disaster' and Bill still hadn't upgraded to a better machine. "You still have a tape, Bill?" she laughed when it finally clicked on. "Still? Haven't I been telling you to upgrade since before I came out here? What happened to the one I got you for Christmas? I eve put a nice recording on it for you!" He was still Bill. Ever, and always, Bill.

"Anyway, that part I told you about? I got it! Not even an understudy, isn't that great?" She was beaming ta her kitchen, a bright, accomplished smile. "It's just like I dreamed back when we were little!" Oh, click, message ended. Oh she hadn't even...

...right, dialing back, listening to the rings. "Sorry about that. You need a better machine Bill! Anyway, I was wondering if you could get the 15th and 16th off next month? I've been saving a bit and I do still need an escort to the premier of our movie. Call me back alright?"

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He laughed and let the issue go.

"Yeah, I guess it is gettin' late," he admitted reluctantly.

"I'll uh, talk to you later?"

"Yep, and change out your machine!" she probably waved cheerfully at the phone as she hung up?

And Clarice was...out of the shower, in PJs, and humming to herself so she didn't hear his phone conversation?

"There's nothin' wrong with my machine." He laughed.

Looking at the phone in his hand after she'd hung up, he ran his thumb along the side of it and gave a soft sad smile.

"Take care of yourself, Starla."

Getting up from the table, he dropped his empty into the trash and took the phone back to the cradle to hang it up.

"So...who is she? Is she pretty? Why isn't she here?" Clarice called the moment she noticed movement through her door. "And..." she drawled, leaning out to look at him, "Why aren't you smiling?"

He about jumped when she spoke up; lost in a wistful fog.

Screwing on a smile, he gave a chuckle to her barrage of questions.

"She's just an' old friend. Livin' out west for right now, an' just checkin' in."

"Ah...yeah. That wasn't the look earlier Bill. You like her and she doesn't live here anymore." Clarice summed up. "And you didn't tell her that before you hung up or something, hence the sad look."

She was good at reading situations? Sometimes. "Was this a missed the opportunity friend or a doesn't feel the same way about you friend?"

"She's just-- we've known each other since we were kids." Which was neither an answer nor a denial.

He went back to the kitchen and pulled himself another beer from the fridge.

"She's makin' movies out in Hollywood. Got a big premier comin' up."

"Ah," yeah, loaded syllable that. "And the loving her part started...when? Toddler age? School kids? College?" She asked, following him into the kitchen and sitting sideways on a chair.

"Ever date her?"

The bottle hissed when Bill twisted it open, and the cap plinked on the tabletop when he tossed it.

Well, this here was something he hadn't thought about when setting up this arrangement. He was used to sulking in silence after his calls with Starla, and now he had a chatty roommate who didn't know his history.

Sitting down at the table, he took a long pull from the bottle and was slow in swallowing it.

"No."

She picked up the bottlecap, then spun it on the table, using it as a manual distraction as she got her thoughts in order. She'd learned to be chatty in the face of brooding from a master brooder, so. It was like free therapy? Creed-style?

Not having dated before was actually...kind of good? It meant it might be easy to work out even without his woman of interest on hand. "Well...do you want to? Right here, right now, do you want to show up on her doorstep and take her out?" Best to understand the facts first?

Of course I do.

He held back the thought, and drowned a sigh with another drink.

"It's complicated."

Ah, sighing. That translated to 'Yes I do' in her head. Well then. "Complicated enough to stop you for years then?"

It occured to him that he didn't know why he was talking about this with her. It would be easy enough to ask her to leave it alone, and head back to bed or something.

Of course if he did that, there was no telling what her reaction would be. And it wasn't anything the rest of the town wouldn't fill her in on anyways, given the chance.

Glancing to her, then back to the tabletop, he shook his head.

"She was married. Met 'im back in high school before I could-- "

That wasn't true. Bill could have at any time, but never did.

"He was a big man around town, even back then. Had a lot t'offer her."

If he asked her to let be she would, simple as that. She knew it was sometimes a lot easier to talk to a stranger who had no investment in the story though. She was, for all intents and purposes, a neutral party.

Spinning top...spinning...

"Be that as it may but you're no slouch yourself and now I take it Mr. Big Man is no longer an issue, correct?"

As common as it was for Bill to close down on and shut out people who pried too deeply, a part of him did want to talk about it.

Her being a near stranger, and him having a beer helped it along some.

"I was then. I didn't have anything t'give her that was close to what he could."

She'd wanted a better life. She deserved a better life, and at the time Bill had no idea how he was going to make out in his.

"Grant died, durin' the slug mess."

"Even if you thought you could make her happy huh?" She didn't pose it much as a question, more a statement of fact that said she may have been there before.

"So, the slug mess was years ago. Why is she alone now?"

"Thinkin' ain't knowin' for sure."

He could have made her happy, and would have tried like hell to, but he also could have bombed out of the academy, come back to Wheelsy another wage slave, and she would have been stuck in the same life she'd always had.

He also still believes that she loved Grant. All she did to try and help Grant, how could she not have?

"Y'know, after that night, I was sure as hell I was gonna get my chance."

Here's the part he doesn't tell anyone. Whether they know it or not, he'd never come out and say it.

"I went through a night of hell just tryin' t'save her. An' I did it, I got her out of that mess. After, though... her husband had just died, the whole town was upside down. I got caught up in rebuildin' an' she-- she left for California."

" 'What Ifs' hurt like hell. Trust me, I got to see a few and they...just hurt. Somewhere out there is a world where you made different decisions, or she did, and things are better, or worse, or so odd you can't help but whimper." She sighed, letting the bottle cap fall flat.

"And there are worse reasons to be a hero. Deep down, all most heroes are doing s trying to save one person. One reason to do what they have to." She shrugged, the motion easier than it had been earlier in the week. "No shame in that. You need to decide though if you want to try to still pursue her despite the distance or if you need to let her go or else you're going to stagnate and miss other chances to be happy."

"What's real hurts like hell."

Another bottle emptied, he realized he was going to have to buy some more beer if he was gonna keep going at this rate.

Standing up he went back to the fridge and brought back two more; setting one down next to Clarice. If she didn't drink it, he'd get to it in a minute or two.

Shaking his head, his eyes focused on his hands and the task of opening the bottle.

"She left."

This cap gets away from him and hits the floor, skittering under a counter.

"Whatever it was that night, it didn't carry over to the next mornin'. I had a town to put back together, an' she had a life to make, an' it took her somewhere she knew I couldn't follow."

He knew there was as much chance of them getting together now as there was when she was married, but he also couldn't let that part of his heart that still cared for her go.

"Did she know?" Clarice asked softly, taking the cap off her own bottle and offering it to him gravely so he'd have something to fidget with. "Or was it just adrenaline and hope?" She...also knew a bit about that.

"From what I heard before I realized you were on the phone, you're going to see her. What are you going to tell her?"

"I never figured that part out. I dunno if she knew, an' just ignored it, or if she didn't see it, even though everyone else in the world did."

He accepted the cap, and busied himself by running his thumb along the ridges.

"I was just foolin' myself either way."

Taking a pull from his bottle, his eyes closed so he could focus on the cold beer running down his throat.

"I'm not gonna tell her anything. I'm goin' for a visit, an' she's gonna stay on for awhile yet. That ain't no time t'throw this out there."

"No, you let more time slip by and you'll be miserable, and it'll be easier, and easier to put off ever saying anything." She sipped her beer, then glanced at, surprised at how damn cold it was. "You've already delayed for years Bill. Talking to her could be the deciding factor on whether she ever comes back here." Ahhh, logic? Kinda?

"Put it this way. I know for a damn fact a man should not end up sad and drinking in his kitchen after a phonecall to a woman he loves."

He listened to her words, then looked over and met her gaze.

"An' what if it makes her decide not to?"

"Sounds to me like she'd mostly to that decision already Bill...but if it does, then at least there's an answer. Better than a limbo that only makes you suffer."

Her words were a shot that turned his head away from her.

She could be right, but confronting that hard truth is something he just didn't have the courage or heart to do. He didn't want an answer if it was the one that was going to crush the last piece of hope he was still holding onto.

"I'm not sufferin'." If he said it he could believe it.

"An' a short weekend stay where she's already got a lot goin' on ain't the time t'spill my guts. That just ain't how I wanna do it."

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