The Perfect Something

Chapter 2

Homeless men deprived of all decent humanity squatted inches away from the rain with nothing but torn parkers to keep them warm. They peered, rather hopelessly, from the dark crevices of their secluded bridge to enjoy the only pleasure they were certain of in life. Radiant beams of sun injected fumes of pink and orange into the city's dome of existence, bringing a smile to every New Yorker's lips. Every now and again, a fragile man with greying hair and a suspicious limp who never missed the blessed event would awaken from his restless slumber and set fire to yesterday's newspaper until all the trees in Central Park were smouldering with red, orange and yellow. The fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees intensified with the November rainfall, yet the robins still thrilled with their morning song high in the treetops. The eleventh month was quickly falling into the twelfth. The festive smell of roasted nuts and cinnamon sticks evoked many memories of a season that Quinn had always considered to be unmatchable in sensory delishishness. Christmas was only a matter of weeks away - another reason to be watching her bank account - but she stopped momentarily to cast a curious eye over the magical red and white stalls scattered randomly throughout the park. Handmade Christmas decorations and toffee apples twinkled up at her in the faded light. She felt a flush of warmth consume her; her date's shoulder brushed against her forearm, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps. With a gentleness designed to set hearts racing, Quinn folded her date's glove-clad fingers into the warmth of her fur-lined pocket until their palms kissed. Rachel could feel the fast thud of the blonde's heart through this single touch.

Together they skipped along with a nervous sense of excited trepidation, attempting to explore their new dynamic without pressure or expectation. Rachel asked about everything from the varsity of Quinn's music collection to her plans for the bookstore. She asked about her favourite Broadway show, her favourite restaurant and her favourite season. Quinn wistfully revealed a deep love for Winter; It was a time where she could find comfort in the simplest of things, such as the warm tones of auburn or the tartan blankets draped over her bed, freshly washed and ironed. She even revealed that it was also the only time she got Beth all to herself, just before Christmas. Rachel let that one sit for a while, forcing herself not to dwell on the complexity of their tangled web. Then she asked about her literary heroes, and they spoke at length about great playwrights such as Neil Simon and Oscar Wilde, as well as their love of comedy. She asked about the blonde's favourite TV shows, and they both revealed a deep and somewhat disturbing obsession with The Game of Thrones. She asked about spirituality, about how all their lives connected, and she asked a great deal about the former cheerleader's family - both the old and the new. She wanted to know more about the woman who had brought up Quinn's daughter all alone, and she wondered again how that could complicate things. Quinn guessed that she was making comparisons between her own birth mother and the stranger that had resurfaced years later, only to then raise a daughter that wasn't even hers. But even with all those complexes thrown in, it seemed as though they had fallen together almost unavoidably; like two passing ships in the night.

In return, Quinn wanted to know about the experiences that had formed and informed Rachel, so she asked about the diva's childhood, her fathers and even her preference for vegetarian food. Some topics were skirted around and saved for a more intimate moment, but for the majority of their walk they shared the details of their lives with earnest enthusiasm. Rachel allowed the blonde to explore their new dynamic without pressure or expectation, answering her questions honestly and happily. They talked about schooldays, laughed about their mutual hatred of awful teachers and shared their hopes and dreams for the future. It was surprising how one person's absence could strengthen your memories of them. Quinn spoke with a gentle lint to her voice; her questions born out of curiosity. Rachel sensed that she cared and so she listened intensely; gradually learning to trust that the former HBIC was not there to ridicule or humiliate her. Eventually, she even allowed herself the simple pleasure of curling into the blondes open arms as they kicked away the fallen leaves. When Quinn successfully managed to recount her entire '7 months of your youth left' speech from high-school (with all the dramatic actions thrown in for good measure), Rachel finally relented with a dramatic sigh and forcibly admitted that Quinn did in fact have a remarkable memory.