the same way you keep me posted - Printable Version
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the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - February 27, 2021
February 26th, 1891 - Pettigrew House
If he brought his broomstick home, he couldn't really carry it through Irvingly, and thus he couldn't take it through the casino, and thus he couldn't go. It was this logic, rather than some actual reason to have his broom immediately in casino between today and Monday's practice, that had Arthur taking his broom through the floo home from the Howlers' stadium after practice.
"Hey," Art said to Ben, stepping out of the green fire of the floo and finding his friend in his living room. He hadn't expected him, but they didn't really announce themselves to each other. He placed his broom next to the fireplace. Should he get liquor? He felt like he should get liquor, but he wasn't sure what sort of visit this was, and dragged the decision-time out by taking his coat off to hang on the hook next to the floo.
"My wife's not home, then?" He didn't remember saying anything that morning, but - it wasn't like he was her keeper, and after hearing how her brother rushed her out of the Howlers stadium last weekend, he felt like he had even less of a right to her time and her whereabouts than he'd had before.
Reuben Crouch
"Hey," Art said to Ben, stepping out of the green fire of the floo and finding his friend in his living room. He hadn't expected him, but they didn't really announce themselves to each other. He placed his broom next to the fireplace. Should he get liquor? He felt like he should get liquor, but he wasn't sure what sort of visit this was, and dragged the decision-time out by taking his coat off to hang on the hook next to the floo.
"My wife's not home, then?" He didn't remember saying anything that morning, but - it wasn't like he was her keeper, and after hearing how her brother rushed her out of the Howlers stadium last weekend, he felt like he had even less of a right to her time and her whereabouts than he'd had before.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - February 27, 2021
The whole revelation about his son hadn't really been resolved at any point during the month of January, but it had been necessarily pushed to the back of his mind with everything that had happened during the final week. It had been the end of the month before he'd even returned the letter from Elliott's mother, and he'd thought his answer would buy him time. It was reasonable, too — the need for discretion, the desire to keep his wife from being hurt. All very above-board reasons to delay moving this forward, and in the meantime he could try and figure out how to get his relationship with Melody on more stable footing, so that he knew what, if anything, he needed to say to her about all of this.
Only it seemed that Elliott's mother had already thought through everything. Which made sense, really; she'd had a lot longer to think it through than Ben had, so she'd probably gone through the details at least in theory before she'd even made the initial offer. She knew when they could meet, where, and how; she knew how to get her husband out of the way for it; everything was settled. There was no reason not to move right along with it — no reason, of course, except Melody.
Things were a little weird with Art, still. Ben was not convinced that he was fine, despite their last conversation. He was not convinced that Art was not gambling at the Casino every afternoon, and had purposefully avoided the Casino so that he didn't have to look for him and simultaneously feel guilty for looking and anxious to find him, because at least then he would have some concrete proof that he could use as a springboard for the conversation he thought he probably needed to have with Art, but couldn't start. So that was how things had been, the past few weeks; avoiding but not avoiding, talking but not talking. Art was the only person who could help with this, though, because he was the only person who knew the context — or, at least, the right collection of fragments of context. Nobody really knew what was going on with Ben's life, least of all Ben.
"If she is, she's avoiding me," he quipped back, but the answer was no, there had been no sign of Desdemona since he'd arrived. With a questioning glance at the broomstick, he asked, "Practicing double to make up for Saturday?"
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - February 27, 2021
No Dez, then, which was probably for the best if Ben was here. Or she was avoiding him, which - possible, but not likely, since he did not hear Gwenog puttering about either. Maybe she had gone to one of her sisters.
"I thought I might take it for a jaunt this weekend," Arthur said, with a shrug of his shoulders. He could take his broom out - flying would take up some of the chunk of the weekend, which was sort of appealing even if he was telling the truth. It could keep him out of the casino, then - maybe that was good.
"Do you want -?" Arthur made a vague gesture at the liquor cabinet. Was this an alcohol conversation or a regular conversation or a serious conversation? He was trying to find his footing; this wasn't something he normally did in conversations with Ben, but was probably a side affect of his renewed hobbies.
"I thought I might take it for a jaunt this weekend," Arthur said, with a shrug of his shoulders. He could take his broom out - flying would take up some of the chunk of the weekend, which was sort of appealing even if he was telling the truth. It could keep him out of the casino, then - maybe that was good.
"Do you want -?" Arthur made a vague gesture at the liquor cabinet. Was this an alcohol conversation or a regular conversation or a serious conversation? He was trying to find his footing; this wasn't something he normally did in conversations with Ben, but was probably a side affect of his renewed hobbies.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - February 27, 2021
Ben was no stranger to the idea of leisure flying — he still had the same battered old broomstick he'd bought straight out of school, for sentimental reasons, but even though she didn't fly as well as she used to he still went for a flight every now and then. It wasn't a weird thing to say, then, or a weird thing to do. The fact that Ben wasn't entirely sure he believed him probably had more to do with Ben feeling guilty and paranoid about everything involving Art than it did with Art actually having any weird reasons for bringing his broom home from the pitch. At least, he told himself that, and didn't make any other comments about it.
Art offered him a drink, and Ben nodded but bit the inside of his lower lip. This was probably Art's way of saying well, get on with it, because he didn't really come over just to hang out any more, did he? He only showed up when something was wrong and he needed Art to fix it. He hadn't even gone to the match last week, though he hadn't told Art he was going to skip it.
"So I'm meeting him," he announced; getting on with it. "The kid. My kid. I told her it had to be discreet and she had the whole thing figured out already, so now it's happening. Next week."
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - February 27, 2021
Arthur strode over to the liquor cabinet and considered for a second, grabbing one of the Jewell whiskeys off the second shelf. "Well, shit," he said, because Ben meeting his kid was sort of a Big Deal, for several obvious reasons. He also gained a degree of respect for the baby's mother, because if she had thought through how to do things discretely already then she was clearly actually rather clever.
He grabbed two glasses and came over, setting the glasses and the bottle down on the coffee table before he flopped into his armchair. "Are you excited?" Art asked, not making a move to pour any whiskey yet - he was excited for Ben, and made no move to hide it, because his smile was crooked and genuine. Toddlers were fun, they were like little opinionated people, and Art was so fond of Gwenog and he wanted that for Ben, too.
He grabbed two glasses and came over, setting the glasses and the bottle down on the coffee table before he flopped into his armchair. "Are you excited?" Art asked, not making a move to pour any whiskey yet - he was excited for Ben, and made no move to hide it, because his smile was crooked and genuine. Toddlers were fun, they were like little opinionated people, and Art was so fond of Gwenog and he wanted that for Ben, too.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - February 28, 2021
Excited. Ben hadn't even thought to be excited, honestly — he was nervous, was what he was. He was nervous that something would go wrong during the meeting and that either he or Elliott's mother would be outed. He was nervous that logistically it would be fine, but it wouldn't go well for other reasons — nervous that he wouldn't know what to do or say or that Elliott wouldn't know what to think of him, or wouldn't like him. Most of all, though, he was nervous about Melody.
"I — ah, yeah. I think so. I don't know," he admitted. "It's a lot. But it's happening." Now that they'd set a date, it was just a matter of time. It was going to happen whether or not he was ready for it, so maybe there wasn't any point in being nervous. It wasn't as though there was anything he could do about most of it; the plans were made, and they seemed solid enough, so there was nothing else he could do to prevent them from being found out. As far as how the actual meeting went, there was nothing for it but to wait and see.
Melody, though.
"I haven't told Melody yet," he admitted, with a glance towards the whiskey set; this was the sort of statement that would go better with a drink, he thought, but didn't move to pour it himself (it was not pour someone else's whiskey desperate).
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - February 28, 2021
"Yeah," Art said, because it was a lot, even if he was thinking it would go well, because Ben tended to be pretty good with children and with animals and it was, in Art's experience, easy enough to get a toddler to like you.
It was the mention of Melody that had him uncapping the whiskey; he poured a finger of liquor into both their glasses, and left the bottle itself uncorked, just in case.
"Are you going to?" Arthur said. He ought to be a little more pleasant about Melody if Ben was really trying things, but it was hard - he really did not like her or the way she treated Ben, (someone she was supposedly in love with!), and had just about landed on not outright disparaging her as a solution. "It might be kinder not to, I don't know." She'd just freak out and she was supposedly pregnant, and maybe sometimes it was better to keep a secret if it would keep your spouse from being hurt. At least Art hoped so.
It was the mention of Melody that had him uncapping the whiskey; he poured a finger of liquor into both their glasses, and left the bottle itself uncorked, just in case.
"Are you going to?" Arthur said. He ought to be a little more pleasant about Melody if Ben was really trying things, but it was hard - he really did not like her or the way she treated Ben, (someone she was supposedly in love with!), and had just about landed on not outright disparaging her as a solution. "It might be kinder not to, I don't know." She'd just freak out and she was supposedly pregnant, and maybe sometimes it was better to keep a secret if it would keep your spouse from being hurt. At least Art hoped so.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - February 28, 2021
The fact that Art asked a question in response caught him off-guard. He had been expecting something a little more solid, though he hadn't been sure which way it would go. When Ben had first told Art about Elliott, he'd acted as though sharing the news with Melody was a foregone conclusion. Ben had had to gingerly pull them back from that, while trying not to give away too much, and had only begrudgingly gotten Art to admit that maybe it was alright to keep it from her for a short while. Then, when everything had blown up and all the cards were on the table (— or maybe half the cards, or a third of the cards, depending on whose perspective you were looking through), he'd swung hard in the other direction and suggested Ben divorce Melody, whether or not she was carrying his child. So he had been prepared for Ben, you have to tell her, and he had been prepared for Good, don't. He had not been prepared for a question; he had not been prepared for the possibility that Art didn't know, either.
"I — " he started, but he didn't know what to say yet. He shrugged and reached for his glass, though rather than taking a drink he started rotating it around in his palm in lieu of fidgeting with his hands. "Do you think so? I don't know." This last was in response to Art's remark about what was kinder. He wanted to do the kindest thing for Melody, honestly — but he wasn't going to give this up, no matter how she felt.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - February 28, 2021
Art did take a sip of whiskey before responding. "Sometimes people are better off not knowing, I think," he said, "Especially if they've got other things going on." He ran it through his mind for a second, evaluating how much of this was just him projecting his own current marital circumstances onto Ben. So he added a question to the end: "Do you think she's in the right place to hear about it yet?"
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - February 28, 2021
"No," Ben answered with an immediate shake of his head. That question at least had an obvious answer. Melody wasn't in the right place to hear about anything, really. They still hadn't really unpacked the conversation they'd had on the night he'd found out about the baby, where he'd had to carry her up the stairs to her room. They definitely needed to figure out them before Ben could go adding extra layers.
He fidgeted with his glass again, looking at Art's knees rather than his face. "But if I don't tell her before it happens, I'm worried I might never tell her." Things like this could slip away and snowball out of control. He knew that from experience. If he'd asked her before he'd asked Elliott's mother that would have been one thing. It was a bigger ask to hope she'd be alright with it when he'd planned the whole thing without telling her, and an even bigger ask if he didn't bring it up until after it happened. If he didn't bring it up for weeks, or months, and he'd seen Elliott multiple times in the interim... that was too much to ask, he was sure. He could always lie to her, of course, but he was really, honestly trying to be better about that.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - February 28, 2021
Arthur hummed. That was a real concern, and he tapped his finger against the glass while he considered. If he was a person who cared a whit about Melody Crouch's feelings, what would he say in this situation? Not seeing the baby wasn't an option, as far as Art was concerned; Ben had a right to see his own son.
"You could wait until you think she's ready," Art said, "Whenever that is. Don't lie about where you're going or anything, if she asks, but she - she just might not want to hear about the baby yet, right? If she's particularly fragile now." A lie by omission. People didn't need to know everything, all the time, sometimes they were better off not knowing at all. Happier, even.
"Or you can tell her now. But if she doesn't take it well, he's still your son."
"You could wait until you think she's ready," Art said, "Whenever that is. Don't lie about where you're going or anything, if she asks, but she - she just might not want to hear about the baby yet, right? If she's particularly fragile now." A lie by omission. People didn't need to know everything, all the time, sometimes they were better off not knowing at all. Happier, even.
"Or you can tell her now. But if she doesn't take it well, he's still your son."
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - February 28, 2021
Particularly fragile was one way to put it. She mostly didn't leave her room, and sometimes Ben wondered if she was actually feeling as sick as she said she was or if she just didn't feel up to seeing him. He was worried about her, actually — not just about her physical health but about how she was coping with the pregnancy, and how she was coping with — the last pregnancy, and the fact that Ben had told Art (or might as well have told Art) about the potion. They still hadn't talked about it. They needed to talk about that before they talked about this, that was certain, but he didn't think either of them would benefit from him rushing her into a conversation she wasn't ready for.
"Yeah, he is," Ben agreed with a nod. He looked at the whiskey that he still hadn't taken a drink of and considered drinking it, but didn't. "But... so is..."
He drifted off. The obvious conclusion of the sentence: the baby. He was worried about that, too — about doing something to upset Melody and losing the baby. Just about ever definition of losing applied, here, too. Her health didn't seem to be great, if she was really this sick all the time, so there was a chance that something suitably stressful might cause her to lose the baby. There was a chance that she might decide to do something to force that — he did not think it was likely, or else he wouldn't have been letting her muddle through this last month in her bedroom alone, but based on everything that had happened between the two of them, he couldn't entirely push the possibility from his mind. And, of course, there was the chance that after the baby was born she would leave — and maybe take the baby, too.
He took a too-large drink of his whiskey, as if compensating for not having touched it yet.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - February 28, 2021
Right, the baby. Art still wasn't convinced the baby was real, but watched Ben's gulping sip. He tapped his finger against the side of the glass again. There wasn't a good answer to this; if there was ever justification for the saying about elopement, marry in haste - repent at leisure, it was Ben's marriage to Melody Finch.
"So don't tell her," Arthur said finally. Almost as an afterthought, he added: "Until she's more stable. If she's in a fragile place, it's better if she doesn't know."
"So don't tell her," Arthur said finally. Almost as an afterthought, he added: "Until she's more stable. If she's in a fragile place, it's better if she doesn't know."
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - February 28, 2021
Ben let out a breath at this. He was relieved, but surprised by it; he hadn't realized how much he'd been dreading the idea of telling Melody until that moment. And yes, partly it was because of what Art said; she was fragile, their relationship was fragile, it wasn't the right time to bring it up. Partly it was that he wasn't sure if it ever would be the right time. He wasn't sure if Melody was capable of being happy in a relationship where there was another person who had a right to his time and attention, even if it was from before he'd married her. He couldn't, in good conscious, make the decision to keep it from her indefinitely — not if he was serious about trying to fix things between them before the baby arrived — but if someone else, a neutral third party, agreed that it was for the best temporarily, he could do that without feeling like he was already sabotaging this effort to repair his marriage. And maybe he wouldn't ever tell her, because maybe it would get too big and daunting to talk about, but in the meantime at least he could keep lying to himself and saying he was investing in his marriage with Melody.
Because it wasn't that he was worried what she would say or do, or worried that it would be a fight; it was because she was fragile. He was keeping it from her not out of malice or selfishness but for her own good. Art had given him the perfect mental out, and Ben hadn't even had to come out and ask for it, which meant he could keep pretending that was the only consideration.
"Thanks," he said, nodding and taking another drink. "Yeah, you're right. I think you're right. She's just — she needs some time," Ben said, though of course that was just another cheap excuse for his not having fixed it yet.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Arthur Pettigrew - March 1, 2021
"Yeah," Art said, with a nod that was perhaps more enthusiastic than it needed to be. He took a sip of his own drink. "She just needs to settle into things, it's hard for them to be pregnant." And there, he said something acknowledging that Melody was pregnant, and was pleased with himself even though he was still hoping she wasn't. If Ben wanted to stay with her then he could provide tacit encouragement; he didn't need to tell his friend outright that he disliked his wife, that was just rude.
"Desdemona was unsure of it at first, when she was expecting Gwen," Art admitted; and maybe he was projecting again and maybe this was good advice - he'd tacitly admitted it in their conversation on condoms but Gwenog was an accident, and there had been a long block of time after her birth where they'd all been happy.
"Desdemona was unsure of it at first, when she was expecting Gwen," Art admitted; and maybe he was projecting again and maybe this was good advice - he'd tacitly admitted it in their conversation on condoms but Gwenog was an accident, and there had been a long block of time after her birth where they'd all been happy.
RE: the same way you keep me posted - Reuben Crouch - March 1, 2021
The comment wasn't remarkable, on the surface of it, but Ben was acutely aware that it was the first time Art had offered anything approaching sympathy towards the fact of Melody's pregnancy. Ben had been avoiding talking about it, because when he'd first told him Art hadn't thought there was a baby, and Ben hadn't really thought his opinion on that had ever changed. He probably wouldn't believe it, Ben had figured, until it was obvious and undeniable. Even then, he might harbor doubts (worse, might even vocalize them to Ben, seeding them in his head) that it wasn't Ben's baby, but rather something she'd arranged after she made the announcement.
This comment, though, was like a lifeline; it opened up a whole new avenue of conversation that Ben had thought was unavailable. He was worried about Melody, very deeply worried, and he had no one to talk to about it. The two people who knew about the pregnancy so far were also the two people that hated Melody most — though for very different reasons.
"She's sick all the time," Ben said, the words flowing out quickly like it was a confession. "Is that normal? The cook had to make a bunch of plain broth, just to keep her eating. She doesn't even leave her room, some days. I'm worried. I've been thinking maybe I should get a healer, but —" he stopped. The real reason he didn't want to get a healer was that he wasn't sure if she was sick, or if half the time spent in her room was really just trying to avoid him, but he didn't know how to verbalize that to Art.
"I'm worried," he repeated, instead. "I don't — I don't know how she's handling it. We haven't had a chance to talk about it, because she's always sick."