And Our Parents

Part 22 ( Sweet Caroline )

"Where it began, I can't begin to know when, but then I know it's growin' strong.
Wasn't the spring, and spring became the summer. Who'd've believed you'd come along?"
—Neil Diamond

Tomorrow is June second.

Becky has spent the past three-and-a-half months counting down to June third. Who could've predicted that in the end, June second would end up being a much more important date than the other one that has been permanently emblazoned into her mind...

June second is her interview at the FBI field office.

June second is also her wedding date.

So much for her accusations to her mother of rushing into marriage too quickly.

But tonight, it's June first.

June first is also a special day, since Becky closed on her very own house. She and Freen drove over to the house that afternoon to ceremoniously walk through the property she now legally owns, but came back to Freen's apartment since all their stuff is still there, and, of course, they can't make a big show of moving in together at the moment.

June first. Last chance to run before the gauntlet that awaits her tomorrow.

Becky has a slight case of the nerves.

It's funny, because she has prepared for this interview as much as humanly possible. She broke out all her old criminology books, read up on relevant consumer fraud laws and other representative cases based on the limited information Bill had been allowed to give her on the case she was being interviewed to help with, and even spent ten minutes psyching herself up in in the mirror while power posing like Wonder Woman with her hands on her hips. (Shut up, she said when Freen caught her and snickered – it's scientifically proven to increase confidence and perceived ability. They did a study about it.)

She is as ready as ready can be. And yet. Butterflies.

Becky needs a distraction from imagining every way she can possibly screw up this interview, so she curls up on the couch, and pulls out a legal pad already filled with messy scribbles.

"How is it going?"

Freen appears by Becky's side. Becky lets out a yelp and flips the pad over. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Freen hands Becky a mug of tea. "What are you writing there?"

"Go away! It's private!"

Freen stares for a few seconds, then shakes her head and stalks off to the bedroom, giving Becky her space.

Once the coast is clear, Becky flips over the pad again and smooths out the crumped top page. She takes a sip of the tea and burns her mouth a bit. She scrunches up her mouth, scratches out one line on the page, and taps her pen to her chin as she tries to figure out how to replace it. At this point, there are more words crossed out than not.

This is a stupid idea, isn't it? Sure, when Becky asked Freen if they should write their own vows, Freen agreed, but something like this? It's not her. Freen will loathe it. Worse: she will mock it mercilessly.

Becky tears off the sheet and crumples it into a ball.

But Freen always comes through with big romantic gestures, so Becky has to give these vows her all. She comforts herself in knowing that no matter what she does, Freen will surely top it. She'll probably deliver her vows in skywriting...

Becky unfurls the paper, and sets to work again.

It's hard work, but at least it takes her mind off the interview. When Becky finally pens the final word, and takes the last sip of her tepid tea, it's past eleven o'clock.