Chapter Three
A call from Eliza woke Angelica up, she needed to change her ringtone it was too loud, or too high, or maybe Angelica was too old to impulse drink a lot of wine; she answered the phone with a groggy, “Hello?”
“Angelica!” Eliza’s voice was too loud, but sweet as always. “I know it’s a little early, but I wanted to call ahead and see if you would have lunch with me today? Just me; we can talk and after we can meet my boys for tennis? You brought your tennis outfit right? We’d look darling matching on the court, and John managed to convince Alex to get an outfit, they both look hysterical you’re going to love it, so we can play teams! It will be really sweet, girls against boys, Phillip and Angie love to watch.”
“Yes, I have my tennis outfit; that sounds great. Where do you want to eat? Text me the address?” They finished off the conversation and Angelica ended the call before sitting up, on the couch. Why was she on the couch?
The whole night came rushing back to her in a flash and, “Shit.” She hired a prostitute. A real life woman in an abusive relationship who is sold off by her husband each night; except Angelica bought her for the whole weekend. She stood in search of an elastic or scrunchie so she could pull back her hair and maybe try to find a way to rectify her mistake, but was stopped in her spot by the sight of Maria, sat up in bed, beautiful, her hair dried in the night and hung loose and curly down her back, she was still wearing the clothes Angelica gave her, they hugged her body in ways that had the little question mark pop up in the sexuality part of her conscious.
After a moment of mutual staring Maria’s lips, a soft pink without her red lipstick, parted to make way for careful words. “Good morning, I hope you slept well.”
“I kissed you.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not a lesbian.”
“Okay.”
Angelica huffed out of breath and swiped a puffy scrunchie off the desk her laptop rested on to pull her hair up into a sloppy ponytail. “I have plans with my sister today; will you be okay here alone? I wasn’t really thinking when I- uh, last night, I came here to be with my sister.” She glanced up and watched Maria shift in her spot, fiddling with the hem of the blanket in her lap, the t-shirt had slid up over her hips in the night, bunching at her waistline, Angelica could see a bit of the girl’s soft stomach push out over the elastic waist of the pink cotton shorts, maybe she didn’t have to choose between straight and gay, millennials were exposing all kinds of in betweens lately.
“I’m sorry to ask, but if I can, why did you take me for the weekend? You said you aren’t interested in my, uh, typical activities, and now you say that you wanted to spend the weekend with your family?” Maria had a really good point, why on Earth did Angelica fork out that much cash? To save the girl? She goes back Monday before Angelica’s flight, it’s not like three nights will change her life; maybe it was a guilty conscious, couldn’t let her go with the old man at the bar. Her phone chimed with a text from Eliza, maybe not a guilty conscious.
“Let’s get breakfast first, New York deli bagels and coffee isn’t something I can ever turn down. You can wear this.” She passed Maria a shift dress that was bright white and a thick navy cardigan, selected light blue jeans and heavy sweater in a dark gray for herself.
In the elevator down she examined their reflection in the mirror, without her cheap make-up and exposing clothes, Maria was a natural beauty, and admittedly, she and Angelica looked really good standing beside each other. They walked out of the hotel and down the street, the deli looked run down but it was the same place she got the cheese steaks so she knew it was good, “Get whatever you like.” She urged the younger girl before smiling at the man at the counter, and placing her order, a bagel with chicken salad and a latte with vanilla and caramel in it. She nudged Maria and the girl stumbled forward, rambling off a medium black coffee, and, after a quick glance to Angelica for confirmation that she was allowed, a cinnamon bagel with strawberry cream cheese. Their food was given to them promptly and they settled in a corner of the cafe, Maria watched Angelica patiently, coffee raised to her lips to blow on it until its cool enough to sip.
“Back when I was in college, I fell in love with this boy at the same school as me, he was a year above me, a communications major, he was eager, and a fucking genius, and I knew in a second exactly his type, the kind to marry a girl for social status and hope he falls in love along the way. The type of boy who put his career above everything else his life without a second thought.” Angelica laughed dryly, mostly to herself, took a bite of her bagel and swallowed before she continued, “I wanted him anyway, so I dragged my sister Eliza to a kegger his friend Hercules was having, she was in her first year and terrified to go to a frat party, hell, so was I! I didn’t do anything that wasn’t by the book until that party, it showed me rebellion and new ideas and it’s one of those things I’ll never forget. The light was low, dreamlike, and as soon as I walked in, it was some switch; boys were tripping over themselves to get me or Eliza to dance with them, or even give them the time of day. We only danced with each other for the first hour, then Eliza went to the bathroom and Alexander Hamilton arrived. They pointed him in my direction and I brushed him off but I felt this desire, I was on my way to talk to him again, maybe half an hour later, and Eliza spotted him taking shots with his friends. I hadn’t even mentioned him yet, wanted to make sure it wasn’t just vodka and beer clouding my judgement, but one look at her face when he smiled across the room, at me but I’d never tell her that, and I knew, she didn’t need to waste her time telling me that she called dibs. They dated for three years before they were married, they have two kids now. Last night I found out she’s also in a relationship with his best friend and lover; they all live together with the kids and are so very happy. And he chose both of them over me.”
“I’m very sorry, and you’re so kind to sacrifice all that for your sister, but I don’t understand what that has to do with my question?”
“He has these eyes; I can see them on command if I just close mine. They’re eyes that want, you can see his whole soul in them, intelligence and curiosity and this undying determination. Somehow, pardon my insensitivity but despite your situation and how you came to be in it.” Angelica looks up, right at Maria who seemed to be realizing the pending end of her sentence, the exploration for an answer only furthered the similarities she had seen since her first close encounter with the girl. “You have those eyes.”
They just watched each other for a moment and Maria nodded slowly, taking a sip of her coffee. “What does that mean for me?”
“I really wish I knew.”
When they returned to the hotel Angelica pulled out the tennis uniform and folded it into the bottom of a large purse, it said Schuyler in gold on the back of a pale pink sweater with a matching pleated skirt, the style was a little young at this point but she carried it off with the same grace Eliza carried her matching powder blue one. She could see Maria watching her; she always seemed to be watching despite the easy entertainment that could come from the smart phone Angelica had managed glimpses of, perhaps part of the deep curiosity that possessed her. “I won’t be back until closer to dinner, get yourself room service for lunch, whatever you want, it’ll charge to the room, my laptop doesn’t have a password, there’s Netflix and then also the TV, you can order a movie if you want to.” She rambled on while stuffing her feet into her tennis shoes, they were plain white, matched her outfit well enough that she didn’t need to bring them. “The other room key is in the desk drawer, in case you really need to go somewhere. That should be everything I think! You can text me for anything don’t be nervous okay?” A nod from Maria and Angelica was out the door.
The restaurant wasn’t far so she was able to walk, but she was also considerably early for lunch, it was only around ten o’clock, so she had two hours to kill. She couldn’t bring herself to remain in the uncertain company of Maria for a minute longer; it wasn’t just the leftover hints of her small hangover that provided a dull ache to her head.
She wandered downtown, and as the streets grew familiar she remembered growing up with her sisters in this amazing city, she finds the building that reminds her of the first time they went to a protest, invited by Alexander and his visionary friends, remembers how it changed her life to funnel all the passion and pure life she held inside of her into something. She got into a fight and got herself arrested and Peggy convinced their dad to post bail, she remembers her mismatch group of friends cheering for her in the police station while she laughed and struck ridiculous poses, her smile had barely faltered at the flash of memory of Eliza curling a soft hand into Alex’s sure ones, she hardly had the chance to experience it then, Lafayette had swept her up onto their shoulders while singing a French victory song.
She walked by the run down pizza shop where they all frequently shared almost stale slices, God the food was so terrible there; why did they ever go in the first place? And how did it stay in business? She laughed to herself and resisted the temptation to buy a slice for the sake of it, the smell that wafted out of the place more of a deciding factor than her own willpower.
As she reminisced she came to realize that most of her memories were of watching her sister fall in love, of watching the man she loved slip further and further away. It took maybe a week before she gave up all hope of ever being with Alexander, so how come she never moved on? Or dated anyone else? She was surrounded by men, all smart and kind, handsome, they courted her and the only one she never coldly turned down was John Church, because he was only interested in appearances, he wasn’t the monogamy kind. She moved to live with him to make her father happy.
Maybe she wasn’t made for love.
Alone with her thoughts was never safe, and eventually she found herself rushing to make it to the restaurant on time. It was plush and expensive and her thoughts flicked briefly to the pizza place before she caught sight of Eliza, beautiful in a loose navy turtleneck and white jeans tucked into boots, the outfit's colours made her brain jump to Maria and black coffee for a brief moment. They hugged and sat, Angelica didn’t look at the menu, instead at the nervous air that surrounded her sister, “Are you alright?”
Eliza’s eyes shot up from where they were intensely focused on the table cloth and she forced a grin, “I just want to make sure you are, with, y’know, everything. It’s a lot, and we kind of threw it at you, and you didn’t talk much last night so I’ve just be so worried-”
“Worried? Eliza I love you, I care for your happiness more than my own, what could possibly worry you?” Angelica reached across the table to take her sister’s hands in her own, she received a grateful squeeze in return.
“I just, don’t want you to think I’m greedy or perverted or something like that. We all care about each other, and built this on communication and trust; when I saw John Laurens on that news clip I knew who I was – who I am. But I also want that to be someone my big sister can be proud of.” Eliza took a breath and squeezed Angelica’s hand again, it was returned and the eldest of the two gave a kind smile, nodding.
“I’ll always be proud of you. You know, I thought the news was that you were pregnant again.” They both laughed and Eliza delightfully confessed that the idea of another baby had been coming up in conversation lately.
They divulged into pleasant conversation that tore away the tensions, and when they finished Eliza reminded Angelica of their tennis match, laughing about being young flirts at country clubs while Angelica felt dread settle into her stomach. Eliza was easy to be normal around, to see the same, Alexander would only take a first moment of awkwardness before they could return to themselves; John Laurens, well, it was going to take more than a tennis match to ease the discomfort between her and the man who was asserting himself into her family by entering a relationship with her sister and brother-in-law. She pushed aside the temptation to voice her thoughts and instead sang along with Eliza’s car’s radio, both her and her sister laughing and belting out notes they couldn’t reach until they pulled into the driveway of the townhouse that was home to the Hamilton’s – maybe they would become the Hamilton-Laurens’, but if that was the case then they might as well throw Schuyler into the mix.
They went inside and, finding nobody home, rushed to change so they wouldn’t have them waiting at the courts for too long. They both squealed and laughed at how they looked in the uniforms, it was cute and a little embarrassing to wear the short skirt and sequined sweater. Angelica’s embarrassments were put to rest and replaced with gut wrenching laughter when they arrived and saw John and Alexander, decorated war veterans and the latter of which having grown up in poverty and foster care, in white polo’s and bright chino shorts, John was in a deep purple and Alex his frequently worn emerald green, they smiled and waved at the sight of Eliza’s car and Angelica’s earlier worries were also dispensed as a couple hello hugs to the children was all she got to do before they jumped into the game.
With the children around there wasn’t room for any talk related to the previous evening’s events, they stuck to the run-around debacle with Angelica’s work and John’s shocking ability in the kitchen, he and Eliza had begun taking cooking classes together and Alex spent the better part of their game raving about his partners’ delicious creations.
When they were all soaked in sweat, out of stories, and Angelica Jr. was loudly announcing that her aunt was the winner, they decided to call it a day. Alex was helping John pack up their equipment and Angelica’s niece came forward with a coloured page from her book that Philip had helped her tear out. It was Thomas the Train and she had coloured it orange and signed it in large and slightly misshapen letters with a heart for her aunt. Angelica wanted to get it laminated.
Despite protests from all three other adults, Angelica called for her car to pick her up, making up a work excuse for needing to be with her laptop; while Alex and Eliza herded the kids into Alex’s car, Angelica found herself being approached by one John Laurens.
“Hey, I hope things don’t get weird. You’re an amazing woman, but I think I understand you better than you let most people know you.” Angelica raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, who was this guy? “Sorry, that sounded really presumptuous, what I mean is that I know what it’s like to be the oldest child of a powerful man, and to have those shoes forced on you to fill. I know how it feels to deny part of who you are because you were shaped to such a specific mold it didn’t even occur to you to consider it. Eliza was telling me about how you never dated in university; how you never talk about your boyfriend and when you do it’s with disdain. Can we meet for coffee tomorrow? Right at breakfast, Eliza and Alex have something with the kids, I think you know what I’m trying to get to here but if you sleep on it, you might be more open to the idea, and I’m a really good listener.” He was looking right into her eyes, he didn’t seem worried that she’d grow furious or accusatory, the heavy fall of her shoulder’s seemed to instill more confidence in his thoughts and he patiently waited for her reply.
“Okay, yes, that would be nice; I could use an impartial opinion. Thank you.” She pulled him into a hug and they exchanged numbers. After her goodbyes to the rest of the family her car having arrived at some point during the conversations, she rode home with a new set determinations, the kind that wound her stomach tight and made her question and reaffirm a thousand times in her head.
She was going to sleep with Maria.