BY ANY OTHER NAME
Chapter Nine

Lily surveyed Eva's room from the doorway. The bed was unmade, an ashtray full of half-smoked cigarettes perched precariously on the nightstand, an open suitcase filled the middle of the room, and dresses, some still in the first stages of completion, covered every other available surface. "You weren't kidding when you said you needed help," she said.

Eva was sitting on the bed, a coat spread across her lap and a book in each hand. She looked up, her eyes wide. "Then help me!" She gestured toward the suitcase with a copy of The Waves. "I've been at this for two hours, and it's still empty!"

"Just take a deep breath," Lily said, moving toward her. "We can do this. If anyone can pack, I can." She picked up a dress and began to fold it. It was a deep purple silk; it slid through her fingers and refused to keep a shape. "Where do you get all of this material?" she asked, trying to keep a trace of awe out of her voice.

"It's the rejects from the department stores. I have a deal with a manager."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "A deal?"

Eva rolled her eyes. "It's not what you're thinking. I make a dress for his wife occasionally, and in exchange I get all the leftover fabric I want."

Lily tossed the dress aside. "Capitalism at work," she said, grabbing another.

"Or the barter system," Eva said. "Mutual exchange."

"That's capitalism," Lily replied. "Labor for profit." Had she been with anyone else, she would have launched into an explanation of why the capitalist system was inherently bad, but because she was with Eva, she bit her tongue and concentrated all her attention on folding. "How many are you taking?" she asked after the pile of dresses at her feet had become a neat stack.

Eva looked up from the pile of books on her bed. "How long are we staying?"

"As long as we want, really. I don't have classes anymore. Dylan's job ended yesterday. Neither of us have anything we need to get back for."

"I have an exam in three weeks, but I don't have to be in class until then."

"So, it's settled. We're staying two and a half weeks." A small smile spread across Lily's face as she eyed the pile of books. "And how many of those are you taking?"

Eva laughed softly. "As many as I can carry? And don't look at me like that, either. We all know what's going to be in that knapsack of yours." She held up two books. "I just can't decide which ones to take."

Lily scanned the titles. "You need something political. Stream of consciousness was for the twenties."

"Virginia Woolf is timeless…or she will be someday."

"I still say a good copy of Their Morals and Ours is worth more than ten copies of Ulysses."

"Well, that's Joyce you're talking about—" Eva cut herself off abruptly. She stared at the door, her eyes narrowing.

Lily turned around. "What is—" Eva shushed her. A few seconds ticked by. Lily suddenly found herself uncomfortably aware of the sound of her own heart beating.

Eva sighed heavily. "What was I saying?"

Lily crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What the hell just happened?"

"Nothing. It was Joyce, wasn't it?"

"Eva."

"I don't like him either, really."

"Eva. You can tell me now, or you can tell Dylan and me later."

"Fine." Eva's shoulders slumped slightly. "I have to be gone by the time my parents come back."

"Did they tell you that?" Lily asked, incredulous.

Eva shook her head. She carefully placed one of the books in a bag. "It's a rule I made up myself. Mother doesn't know about Dylan's proposal. Father does, and he's gone from speaking to me sporadically to not at all. It just seemed best to already be gone when they find out I'm going."

"You think he would try to stop you?"

"No." Eva lovingly turned the pages of a slim volume. "I don't think he's quite as invested in me as he was your mother."

Lily ducked her head, avoiding her eyes. She knew Dylan had told Eva about their parents' past, but she hadn't expected her to talk about it so calmly. Just thinking about it sent Lily into a rage.

"I just meant that he's given up on life for the most part," Eva said. "He detests my marrying Dylan, but—" She shrugged. "He just doesn't have it in him anymore." Then why are you still afraid of him? She pushed the thought away. I'm not afraid of him. I haven't been afraid of him for a long time. I just don't want to have an argument if I can avoid it.

With Lily giving directions, Eva managed to both pack and clean her room in the time it usually took her to decide she wanted to clean. They made it to the train station with time to spare. Dylan was already waiting. He sat on the bench next to the platform, a notebook balanced on his knees. He appeared to be drawing, but was in fact just squeezing the pen.

"Next time there had better be a masterpiece here," Eva said, dropping down next to him.

He grinned happily. "Okay." His skin tingled when she leaned over and kissed him.

"We'll miss the train," Lily said.

"We have half an hour." Dylan didn't take his eyes off Eva. "Relax, Water Lily. We'll be on time."

"On time is late," Lily said. "And if we get on board now, I don't have to worry about you two forgetting where you are until it's too late."

Dylan was about to retort when Eva wrapped her fingers around his wrist. "Come on," she said, tugging on his arm. "I'd like to know we're safely on board, too."

"Let's go, then," he said.

Santa Monica
Two Days Later

Rose carefully moved her fingers across the ball of wool in her lap. Satisfied that it was still in the position she needed it in, she leaned back in her chair and began to knit again. Her hands moved quickly and skillfully. The needles clicked quietly against each other. "Knit. Purl. Knit. Purl," she murmured. She smiled as she heard Jack's footsteps approaching. "Not trying to sneak up on me, are you?” she teased.

He dropped to his knees in front of her. "Never." She carefully wrapped her knitting up and set it aside. "How's it coming?" he asked, laying his head on her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm almost finished," she said. "I might even finish tonight, in fact."

"Does it really get cold enough here for wool?" he asked.

"It does for a scarf," she said. "And you're going to wear it." She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. "I'm not having you get sick."

"Yes, miss." He smiled. "Whatever you'd like." He pressed his lips to her knee. "Anything for you."

Her hands slid down to his shoulders. "I'm knitting," she said. But she began tracing a pattern on the back of his neck with her fingertips. He pressed his hands against the sides of her legs. Rose protested half-heartedly as he began kissing her thighs through her dress. Her breathing quickened. "Jack, we can't—"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

They both froze. "What the hell?" Jack asked, climbing to his feet.

Rose took his hand. "Who could possibly be visiting us?" she asked.

"It's probably nothing," Jack said. "It could be that guy who wants to sell us encyclopedias again."

"He was interesting."

"He stared at you for ten minutes. I think he forgot why he was here."

"He did not."

"I'm not saying I blame him."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really," Jack said, opening the door. "You don't see it anymore, but a lot of people stare at you. All the time." His eyes widened.

"What is it, Jack?" she asked.

"It's the children," he said. "And Eva."

"Hi, Dad!" Lily cried, throwing her arms around Jack.

"Hey, Water Lily," he said, breaking into a confused smile. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"We wanted to surprise you," Dylan said, hugging Rose.

"Well, you certainly did!" She laughed. She took his face in her hands. "There's something—" She gasped quietly. "I knew you would!" She couldn't see him, but he still avoided her gaze.

"Would what?"

"Oh, nothing," she said. "Let's go inside."

Jack turned to Eva. "It's nice to see you again."

Eva nodded and smiled, suddenly shy. "It's nice to see you, too."

"Care to tell me what you know?" Jack murmured in Rose's ear as they led their guests through the house.

"I'm sure you can figure it out," she replied. "After all, you can see them. Just take a look in their eyes."

Jack threw a quick glance over his shoulder. Of course! he thought. And then. What will her father say?

"That doesn't matter," Rose said. "We already talked about that, remember?"

He pulled her closer. "I remember."

"I told you they're telepathic," Lily said out of the corner of her mouth.

"I don't believe in telepathy," Eva said. She studied Jack and Rose's movements. They were perfectly attuned to each other; their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle. "At least I don't think I do," she added.

Chapter Ten
Stories