#pippaxchris

All the times that she had spent daydreaming and thinking, well, not recently, but a long time ago she had a very active imagination and he might have played a starring role or two. But for the moment, her buzz was acute as she threw back the rest of her second drink. On an empty stomach, it didn’t take much. Even on a regular night with a full dinner, it still wouldn’t have taken much at all. And tonight she needed that little bit of courage. It propelled her up off the stool and away from the bar, looping her arm through is in the playful way one might with a close friend. But really, she enjoyed his strength. The lingering scent of oil on his coat, likely from bring hung up in the shop.

She hadn’t meant to make him feel sad. Instead, she had only wanted to be honest. He had asked how she was and she’d felt compelled to be truthful with Christopher. Afterall, they knew each other. Not well, but close enough association that lying or fabricating were stupid. She was certain that it was better to just be honest. It was the best policy and she had nothing to hide from him. She wanted him to know the truth. Pippa couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she felt as if she really wanted to pour her soul out to him.

Just as he mentioned food, her stomach grumbled. She smiled and nodded.

The life she was secretly breathing into him was pulled away all too quickly. Though his heart beat, it slowed its activity as he looked into her eyes. To hear such a beautiful young lady was not ‘great’ was disheartening, but the reality of it all? Who truly was ‘great?’ In a silent understanding of exactly what she meant with out actually knowing the story, he nodded. Whether her and her husband were happy or not was none of his concern, but he certainly would not refuse her had she needed an estranged shoulder to cry on or an ear into which she would vent her frustrations... Christopher detected some sort of sadness lingering with in her; he was no mind reader, but his time spent resting years ago after his surgery had allowed him time to observe others and their body language.

It was very clear that life did not always turn out the way one might want it to. Phillippa Marjorie McKay was no exception to that rule. She'd never dreamed that she would be married at twenty; now ever so much more than just a sliver beyond unhappily at 26. Sometimes it was almost as if she lived two lives; the one she imagined for herself in her head that still just might become a reality, and the reality that was not even close to living up to the daydream. When Mick had first entered her life, he'd been mysterious and passionate and a little possessive. None of these things had really bothered her to begin with, not the way that they might have had she sat down to think about it. She didn't think about whether [i]she[/i] was happy or not. Instead, she focused her energy on others and that kept her out of the house and more than a little sane. It also kept her busy and not pondering her current life situation was further made her feel happy.

Most of her time Pippa kept busy by collecting project after project that would keep her away from the house: volunteering with the local high school's dance team, offering ballroom dance lessons at the senior center, teaching the homecoming court a choreographed waltz to surprise the student body at the pep assembly, working with the musical and the show choir, and even starting to record some simple lessons to upload on YouTube. Anything and everything she could think of, she did. She even picked up a direct sales business selling purses and totes to ladies in the community. Whatever she could think of, she did it to stay away from home.

But she worked too hard, a point that her best friend was constantly pointing out to her. She needed to go out and have fun; to become more than just a constant flurry of activity and business. She was glorifying never being home; none of it was fun, but that didn't stop her from cramming her calendar full of activities just so she didn't have to sit down and think. Thinking was dangerous, as was asking dangerous questions and her friend was good at making suppositions and helping her realize where her weaknesses may lie. She'd been pushing her off for this very reason; it was too dangerous to talk about feelings, feeling them was plenty danger enough.

So tonight wasn't really about talking, at least not serious-type conversation. Instead, they were grabbing dinner somewhere, preferably somewhere loud that discouraged serious conversation or at least somewhere quick with delicious food. And then they were going out - drinking, dancing, perhaps whatever might come to mind. It was to be the simple staple in what a stereotypical girl's night might be, but she was satisfied with just that. She rarely had a moment for quiet contemplation so when her friend disappeared to the bathroom and didn't return, and Pippa spied her chatting with a handsome blonde in the corner, the redhead stayed at the bar and continued to sip her cocktail.

It was nice to have a moment to enjoy the night. She'd check on her friend, eventually. And certainly, all would be well. For the moment, she simply stood and pondered. There were seven days until Christmas after all; there was a lot of mental shopping to be done. She refused to pull out her phone; that would truly be rude. Besides, the bartender was actually chatting tonight and he was fairly easy on the eye. It didn't matter that he was probably gay. She needed light conversation and this was definitely it. 

Word Count: 615