The Favoured, The Fair and Ms. Vérité Claire

6 A Bear In The Woods

When Julia was happy, she thought of her mother. She could feel her hands brushing her hair and her soft arms around her shoulders opening her up to the goodness life had to offer. But when Julia needed courage, she thought of her father, and she thought of him every single Sunday night during dinners with Aunt Helen and the cousins.

She did not know if her father had ever reproached his sister for indulging her daughters so without discipline. What she did know was the only time she ever saw Theresa and Blanca cower to authority was when he'd blasted them for some especially rude behaviour at a Thanksgiving meal, after which he needed only give them a stern look to silence them into sullenness. Julia could hear his wise voice whispering in her ear, "Let fools entertain you." Out of love for her aunt, and greater love for her father, she tried, but it was burdensome to have to go it alone.

When she was alone.

"Are we holding hands for this thing or not?" Orson asked as they got out of the truck and met again in front of it. He took Julia's hand in his before she could give him an answer.

"We don't have to," she said, thinking nothing of it. "I'll tell them we're just friends. They'll think I'm lying anyway."

His hand fell away instantaneously.

He had cleaned up nicely again, wearing a plain tee shirt and jeans, but paired with an expensive blazer. His hands were especially free from any garage grease and there was the faintest, pleasing scent of cologne, somewhere between vanilla and tobacco. Julia wore a simple pink cardigan, navy capris and a pair of ballet flats. There were days when, despite her best efforts and honed abilities, she felt as incognito as Wagner's Brunhilde, but next to Orson's hulk and severity she felt delicate and eclipsed, like the moon grateful for clouds.

"So what am I doing here?" he asked as they walked up the street to Aunt Helen's.

"It's a fair trade," Julia said simply.

"Sure, but why trade in your favour for this particular evening?"

"It's my cousin Blanca's engagement party and it might be...horrible."

"Like christening a boat with a hole in it?"

Julia snickered. "Actually, I think they'll do all right together. She likes to yell and he doesn't mind being yelled at. I just wanted back-up for me." She tucked her chin into her shoulder and cast her eyes up to Orson's guilelessly. "You know families."

"I don't talk to mine," Orson said, matter-of-factly.

"Why not?"

"Because it turns out I'm just like them." He did not elaborate."You want me to ruin it? The party?"

Julia laughed at a fleeting fantasy. "No," she decided. "My Aunt Helen is an angel. A bit smother-y but her heart is in the right place. After my parents died I think she was wanted to be an anchor for me. To remind me that I still had family. She's generous to a fault, like my dad was, but unfortunately my cousins Blanca and Theresa are the worst because of it."

"What's the worst?"

"Tantrums. Nasty. They're really mean to one another. I'd say the only time they're not at each others' throats is when they join forces against me. It's a service I've been providing for some time now and I'm getting kind of sick of it."

"They're jealous of you," Orson snorted.

"It's not that," Julia sighed. "They just each need a lot attention."

"Trust me. All women are jealous of you."

Julia did not blush or seem pleased. It was the type of gross overstatement which, whether spoken as flattery or fact, only ever made her uncomfortable.