After the reunion
Sunday night found me stretched out on the grass roof above the rec room, Sigurd and Torburn with me. I was glad to be home; the reunion had been fun, and I'd enjoyed catching up with my classmates, but I'd come away with some much-needed perspective and things to think about. Torburn had stayed with Thor and Sif while I was gone, and seemed pleased that I was back. It's always nice to be missed.
A shadow passed over me in the fading light, and I turned my head, opening my eyes to see Steve sitting down on the grass by us, giving Torburn a head rub. "How'd it go?" I asked.
"OK," Steve said a little moodily. "I wish he'd come out here instead."
I knew that Constance had talked to him too. "You know why it's better for him to have some independence,' I said mildly.
"Yeah,' he said, plucking some grass. "But he beat the hell out of me on the carrier when we were taking down HYDRA. I really think he's gotten it out of his system."
"Give me a dollar," I said, and he smiled a little and passed it over.
"I know, but it's incredible that he's still alive. I want my friend back," he said, and I knew I didn't have to say anything cautionary; he'd heard it all before and he really hoped they could forge a new friendship. I nodded instead. "So how was the reunion?" he asked, curious.
"It was fun; I worried that I'd be the most screwed up one, with my giant support dog--" I sat up and gave Sigurd a big hug "but one guy was in a wheelchair with severe MS, and everybody's got some mileage on them since high school. There are some who died, so automatically I'm better off than them," I said. "Sigurd was a big hit, he's so cute and sweet." I grinned. "He was more popular than I was."
Captain America went a little pale and gestured beside his head. "Emma, there's a thing there..." Torburn sat up, and snuffled into my hair as he removed a spider. He chewed a couple of times and laid back down, rolling over for a tummy rub. I smiled at Steve.
"There was a kind of a cocktail party on Friday, get to know you sort of thing," I went on. "Then an informal get-together in Central Park during the day, and a dinner and dance in the evening. It was good to see everybody. It feels like high school happened to somebody else, I've changed so much." And I'd seen Peter lurking around in the background at the park and outside the dinner venue, once I'd known to look, so I knew Nick had lined up extra security despite what he'd told me. I hadn't blown his cover, he was just doing what Nick asked, but it was irritating not to be able to do even this one spontaneous thing by myself.
"What was it like back then?" he asked.
"Well, my mom and I didn't live in the city, so we came in every weekday, her to work and me to go to school. I went to my classes, didn't cut but once, did club things and school activities. Didn't date much, just for a few dances really. Pretty boring," I said, laughing.
"I'm surprised you cut classes at all," a new voice said, but Stark's tone was more neutral than I'd heard it in weeks.
"My friends and I were going to our first concert alone," I said, smiling at the memory. "I went in with mom as usual; we'd arranged that I'd stay with one of my friends overnight, then I went to my friend's apartment, I dropped my stuff, and we met up with everybody else and played hooky all day."
"Strangely rebellious," Stark said. "What was the concert? AC/DC? KISS?"
"Rick Springfield," I said, blushing, wishing hard that it had been a cooler act.
"Rick Springfield?" he said, practically busting a gut, and actually rolling on the ground. I rolled my eyes. It was kind of embarrassing.
"It was a good concert," I said, defending my choices. Stark was still laughing too hard to comment. Well, hell, I'd been a teenaged girl and he was always on the cover of magazines like Tiger Beat. I still thought his music held up pretty well.
"Anyway," I said primly to Steve, who was looking mystified and writing the name in his little book. "I caught up with my friends from that time in my life, met their husbands. It was fun. I did some personal stuff too."
"Cemetery?" he asked, and I nodded. The graves of my mom and grandparents looked well-maintained, and I'd left flowers.
"Where is it?" he asked.
"Same town that Bucky's in," I said, then decided to come out with it. "The house was my grandparent's, actually. I kept it, had it maintained after I left."
"That's really nice of you to let him use it," Steve said softly. I shrugged.
"I'm not living there, and it's good to have somebody in it. It was always a happy house, if that helps. Then I went shopping. Ran into a guy I knew from the lab. I forgot how much I don't like the city in the summer. People are cross, it's uncomfortable from the concrete reflecting the light and heat, and it smells like trash."
"So what did your former coworker have to say?" Steve nudged after I fell silent.
"I owe you an apology," I said to Stark, who looked surprised. "The guy said that Steiger and the other guy had been fired at a time which would have been shortly after that lunch in Seattle. So you're not as big a prick as I thought you were." Steve suppressed a surprised laugh.
"Always nice to be vindicated," Stark said, smirking.
"I have a tendency to recall the nice things," I said reluctantly. "The advantages that I had in my professional life, the close-knit feeling I had from being part of an elite group. But I forget that it wasn't all skittles and beer. That damned genius thing Mr Stark had going. He brought it up every time he led a tour through the lab, and most of the people would always ask us all what our IQs were. Mine was the lowest, and I always felt stupid. Some of them would say "you just squeaked in!" or something stupid like that, which was always embarrassing. The next lowest one had thirteen points on me.
"Three points. It was the difference between me and Steiger. At one Christmas party, he cornered me about it, wondering what it would have been like if he had three IQ points up on me so I knew he resented that he'd just missed the cut. And it was ridiculous and arbitrary."
"What did you expect to be in high school?" Steve asked after the silence had gone on too long.
"Not this," I snorted on a laugh. "The neighborhood I grew up in was pretty conservative, girls were encouraged to study nursing or be teachers, which was the preferred option since you got the summers off with your kids. And even in the city, there were some female executive and such, but at that time, the women that I saw were mostly secretaries, working retail, lower status jobs. It wasn't until I went to college that I really felt like I had more possibilities. I went from being a student with her head down, learning what was set out for us, to asking questions and challenging assumptions. And I can't say that I'd want a life like my classmates had. Sure, I gave up a lot to work at Stark Industries. It was a great place for obsessives, but it was also true that people who wanted a little time off to see their kids' ball games or who had to stay home with sick kids didn't advance as far or as fast. I listen to my classmates talk about their kids, some of them have grandkids, their routines, and I think that it all sounds really boring, frankly. And it might be a little boring to them too sometimes, but they're happy, so it must provide compensation emotionally, but to me, the compromises that they had to make in their own ambitions and dreams is sad. But then they think I'll die sad and alone, so I guess everybody prefers the choices they made." I laughed. "I may be alone in the end, but it's been quite a ride."
"Everybody dies alone," Tony said practically. "What would your ideal life have been?"
"Well, pretty much the same, probably, but with a sibling so they could have done the family thing and I could have handed over the kids and gone back to my work," I said. "And I probably would have done more with my friends rather than working quite so many late nights. And I would have taken more vacations."
"Wow, this is a happy conversation," Steve said. "I never associated high school and death before. How was it otherwise?"
"Clint was right," I said, snickering. "He said that people would assume I worked for the CIA since I wasn't talking about my real job. I got voted 'Most Mysterious.'" They laughed.
"So I suppose you didn't tell them that Nick just got an offer to make Barbies for the Armorer, Black Widow, and Scarlet Witch," Tony said evilly.
"What?" I said, sitting up abruptly. "No. Really?" I decided to wipe the smirks off their faces. "So are they making Ken dolls of all you guys?" We squabbled amiably as we left the roof for dinner--Tony vehemently refusing to be a sexless Ken doll. I detoured briefly to put Steve's dollar and mine in the swear jar.