Heading to the front office, she cleared her throat, causing Elliot to look up from the scanner.
“Everything okay with those returns?”
“Yes, actually, it’s great. You did a great job.”
Elliot smiled broadly, then seemed to catch herself and nod less enthusiastically. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you,” Kelly said. “You’ve done a lot more around here than I’ve given you credit for.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Right, and it’s my job to mentor you through the internship, but I realize I haven’t even talked to you about your experience or your goals, other than smashing patriarchy of course.”
“Well, that’s the big one, but it’s okay. You’ve got a lot going on. I don’t even know when you eat or sleep.”
“Well, I don’t sleep much,” Kelly admitted, “but I do have to eat, so I thought maybe we could do it together, tonight. Eat, I mean, not sleep.”
Elliot’s mouth quirked up and Kelly’s face flamed, but she forged on through the awkwardness. “I usually get takeout and eat here. Nothing fancy, but if you wanted to stick around we could … talk?”
“Yeah,” Elliot said, “sounds good.”
“Good.” Kelly said decisively. “All right then, go ahead and get back to work.”
She turned and went back to her office, but she thought she might have heard Elliot chuckle softly. So the invitation wasn’t her most graceful, but it wasn’t a date. Oh God, did Elliot think she’d asked her out on a date? Surely not. Surely she’d made herself clear about the business, and the eating at the office, and the mentoring. Right? She shook her head. Surely, Elliot understood her intentions, because if she’d thought for one second that takeout in the office was the best date Kelly had to offer, she would’ve undoubtedly said no.
Chapter Eleven
“I didn’t know for sure what you like, so I got turkey and pot roast with sides of mashed potatoes, green beans, and corn. And rolls, of course,” Kelly said, pushing through the door with a leaning tower of to-go boxes.
Elliot sprang from her chair and relieved her of half the stack. The heavenly aromas made her stomach growl. “Wow, did you raid some grandma’s dinner table? This smells amazing.”
“It’s just from the diner.”
“What diner?”
“The Diner.”
She stared at her, trying to figure out if she should simply know which diner Kelly referred to or if this conversation was the Darlington equivalent of “Who’s on First.” “Please tell me this diner has a name.”
“It does,” Kelly said spreading out the various containers across her desk. “It’s called, ‘The Diner.’ ”
“Classy. No wonder I’ve never ventured in there.”
“Well now you can see what you’ve been missing.”
Elliot didn’t argue or offer any more comebacks. She didn’t want to press her luck. This was the longest they’d talked about something other than work for two weeks, and she still had questions. So many questions, ranging from what had sparked the dinner invitation, to what Rory knew about Kelly and how, to what Kelly felt about what had happened between them. Still, the last time she’d actually asked a personal question, she’d about gotten her head bitten off.
“Go ahead,” Kelly said. “Help yourself.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. None of her misgivings about the dinner had anything to do with food. “Wait, is any of this shockingly spicy?”
Kelly laughed. “No. I ordered off the spice-wuss menu.”
“I’m not a spice wuss.” Elliot defended herself while she filled her plate and sat back in her chair. “I just like to know ahead of time if someone intends to lace my gravy with napalm.”
“Nothing to worry about here. It’s all home-style cooking.”
She took a bite of pot roast that fell apart in her mouth. “Nothing like this ever got cooked in my home.”
“Really? Your mom didn’t cook?”
“Syd?” Elliot laughed in spite of her worries about personal topics. “No. I mean, she can boil some pasta and put some sauce from a jar on top. She’ll stack a mean deli-style sandwich, and she might arrange a fruit and cheese plate if she’s feeling fancy, but I’m not sure I ever saw her use an oven for anything other than a frozen pizza. Mostly we ate out.”
“I’ve heard of people in the city who eat out every night, but I’ve never met anyone who actually lived that way.”
“Really? You cook every night?” Elliot asked without thinking, then braced herself for the reminder to mind her own business.
“Usually,” Kelly said casually. “Tax season always requires me to eat out more than normal, but rarely as much as I have this year. I don’t make anything as exotic as curried vegetables or whatnot, but given the time, I could easily prepare a meal to rival this one.”
Elliot examined the food again. She had never seen anyone roast anything, but she assumed it didn’t happen quickly or easily. “I would’ve never pegged you for the home and hearth type. You seem more like swashbuckling CEO material.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “You’ve had a skewed sample. I’ve been on edge lately.”
“So you’re not always so intense?”
She smiled. “I suppose it depends on who you ask. I guess a lot of people might call me intense. I may have also been called intimidating a time or two.”
“No,” Elliot said sarcastically, “not you.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve always known what I wanted, and I’ve never been shy about doing what I needed to. That doesn’t win any awards for congeniality in high school, but I like to think I earned some respect along the way.”
“You did,” Elliot said, both her confidence and comfort levels rising with every minute of casual conversation. “Your clients trust you, and they respect you. I see how easily they talk to you about their finances and the trials or triumphs behind them. These are private people. They’d talk about the weather for days before they’d admit to having trouble making ends meet, but they know you well enough to know you won’t betray them.”
“I have an abject hatred for the rumor mill,” Kelly said stoically, then smiled. “But I didn’t ask you here to fish for compliments or dish about Darlington.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why did you ask me to stay for dinner? I’m not complaining, mind you, just surprised.”
“I’m sorry.” Kelly sighed. “I’ve never had an intern before. I know my short-comings, and I never thought I’d be a very good mentor, but circumstances necessitated your presence this year, and I’ve been so caught up about what that meant for me, I only just now realized I haven’t been very fair to you.”
“That’s not true. You’re one of the most fundamentally fair people I’ve ever met,” Elliot said emphatically. “Even when I thought you might be on meth, and when I called you a homophobe and got angry at you for any number of other things, you always treated me fairly. You could’ve legitimately fired me at least three times now, and no one would’ve questioned you. Not even me.”
Kelly pursed her lips. “I could have legitimately fired you on the first day, but the other times would’ve been iffy. Still, I’m glad I didn’t. And I’m glad you’re glad I didn’t. But I feel like we’ve been through a lot without my really learning anything important about you.”
“I got the sense you wanted to keep things that way,” Elliot said carefully. She liked this sincere version of Kelly, but she worried about what lay just below the smooth surface.
“I guess I did, and part of me still does. But you did a very complicated schedule-C return today, and I found myself wondering who you are.”
Elliot burst out laughing. “Really? After everything that happened, after the bigots and the bar fights and the coming out and—” She cut off the sentence quickly. “The everything else, the schedule-C tripped your trigger?”
Kelly’s eye grew wide and her face flushed, causing Elliot to realize she might have crossed another in
visible line. She tried to scuttle backwards as quickly as possible. “Okay, yeah, sure, ’cause we’re having a business dinner and it’s only natural to be here for business reasons. So, what do you want to know about my business?”
“Your business?”
“My business business, not my personal business.”
“Right.” Kelly recovered slowly. “How about you tell me where you learned about taxes?”
“Well, I’ve been in school for almost five years now, so I’m not a newbie or anything, but the type of stuff you’re referring to came from working with the Volunteer Income Tax Assistance program. I’m not sure if you have much use for the VITA program in small towns, but it’s a big deal in Chicago.”
“I’m familiar with the process, but no, I haven’t had more than a passing experience with it.”
“Well, my mom’s in finance law, so I knew a lot about the tax system from listening to her, and I always understood numbers, so when I saw that the Chicago Public Library system was training volunteers to help people with their taxes, I thought it would be a good way for me to get some service hours. You know, for college applications.”
“You started doing taxes for underprivileged households when you were in high school?”
“Seemed like a better way to spend my time than walking dogs or babysitting,” Elliot said between bites. “I already told you my mom is a major feminist, so I grew up knowing how privileged I am. I knew people with money could pay other people to find loopholes that help them keep or even make money off the tax system while people who didn’t have the money or the education or connections usually got screwed. The rich get richer and the poor get the shaft. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“I’m not sure anyone should get the shaft.”
“Right, because you believe in fairness,” Elliot said with a grin. “But the more I worked within the system, the more I saw how subjective the system is, and it’s even more so when talking about corporate taxes.”
“And you decided all this by the time you finished high school?”
“Pretty much. I’d come out by then, too, so I’d started to feel a real drive to examine systems of power other people take for granted.”
“Wait, you came out before you got to college?”
“Oh yeah.” Elliot waived a hand. “I came out when I was fifteen.” She laughed. “Honestly I could’ve come out sooner, but in my teenage angst I didn’t want to give my mother the satisfaction of being right.”
Kelly raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“Syd always thought I was gay. Some of it was wishful thinking, but she also saw the way I interacted with girls, and let’s just say, I clearly didn’t hang around them in the hopes of getting my hair or nails done.”
“So she was happy when you told her?”
“Ecstatic. She rented the local LGBT center and threw a coming-out party.”
Kelly shook her head slowly. “I can’t even imagine.”
“Yeah, I was horrified at the time. No fifteen-year-old wants to think they’ve fallen into their parent’s plan from the beginning. I wanted to be my own person. I wanted to find my own way. I had to prove to myself and everyone else I had some fight in me.”
“How could anyone doubt your ability to fight?”
“I’m one of the lucky ones, but that’s all the more reason for me to want to help people who’ve been dealt a harsher hand. I don’t want to waste my life doing something mundane, but I didn’t want to just rebel in some clichéd way, either. I didn’t want a blue Mohawk or a nose ring if I had a chance to make a real difference.”
“I’m glad you didn’t punch any holes in your face.” Kelly’s voice seemed somehow deeper, or more introspective. Her whole expression changed, as though her features were actually softening as the evening went on. “And I’m glad the hole left by a drunk’s elbow seems to be healing nicely, too.”
Elliot touched her eyebrow. The mark had all but faded over the last few weeks. “I don’t know … it might have been cool to have a scar from a bar-fight story.”
“You still have the story. There’s no reason to tarnish your perfect face.”
Elliot couldn’t control her reaction to the compliment fast enough. She felt her eyes widen in surprise and her cheeks redden with pleasure.
“Don’t act like that,” Kelly said quickly. “You know you’re good-looking. I’m sure you’ve been told a million times.”
“Not nearly that many,” Elliot said, then silently added, and never by you. “I don’t fit a lot of people’s ideals of traditional beauty.”
“I just assumed that cocky little swagger you have came from being fawned over regularly.”
She straightened her shoulders, her confidence soaring now. “I’ve got a swagger?”
Kelly scoffed. “Back to the topic at hand. So what’s your master plan?”
Elliot needed a moment, after the unexpected compliment, to force herself back on track. “First I finish tax season here by helping you meet all our deadlines.”
“Good answer,” Kelly said. “What next?”
“I’ve still got some internship requirements, like a final paper, and I’m taking a CPA exam prep course online, but mostly I’ll move on to the job search in earnest. Ideally I’d be at a non-profit organization that works for people who are typically disenfranchised by the financial system or who lobby for them. I’m also really interested in progressive policy think tanks.”
“So you’ll head back to Chicago?”
Elliot thought she heard a hint of disappointment in the question, but that could have been just her newly affirmed swagger talking. “Actually, I’d love to be in Washington, D.C. You know, take the fight right to the seat of power.”
“Fight the power? Are you sure you’re really twenty-five and not sixty-five?”
“What? You’ve never wanted to stick it to the man?”
“No,” Kelly said dryly, “I’ve never wanted to get close enough to any man to stick anything anywhere.”
Elliot laughed so hard she almost choked. “Wait a second, was that a gay pun? Did you just make an allusion to being a gay?”
“A gay?” Kelly whispered as she looked over her shoulder. “Is that what we call ourselves now?”
“As opposed to when?”
“I don’t know,” Kelly said, a hint of honesty edging back into her voice. “I believe Mrs. Anthony referred to something about the homosexual agenda once. Maybe we should ask her since she seems so well-versed on the subject.”
“No way.” Elliot shuddered. “There’s no way someone that uptight has ever had sex with a woman.”
Kelly stood and began to clean some of the food containers off the desk without further comment. She worked quietly, steadily, not rushed but clearly back to business. “Are you finished with your roll?”
“Uh, yeah,” Elliot said, her bewilderment giving way to disappointment. She’d once again crossed one of those invisible lines. She felt helpless, and few things bothered her more than feeling helpless. She’d promised Kelly to respect her privacy. She’d promised to respect her position of authority. And more importantly, she’d promised to never make her feel shame or guilt or insecurity about what they’d done. And still, her disappointment gave way to frustration, tightening the muscles in her jaw and shoulders. Kelly had, once again, started this whole exchange. She had not only called this dinner, she moved the conversation into personal territory. She brought up the topic of being gay. Hell, she’d made the first joke. Why could she relax and speak her mind while Elliot had to tiptoe around trip wires she didn’t even know existed?
“Not fair,” she said aloud without thinking.
“What?” Kelly looked up.
“I think,” Elliot started slowly, “I said ‘it’s not fair.’ ”
“Excuse me?”
“When you shut down on me in the middle of a conversation without telling me why. It’s not fair.”
“I have a right to—”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Kelly said, carrying their paper plates to the trashcan in the hallway. “I’m right here.”
“You are, but you aren’t. Not in the way you were here a minute ago. You’re not laughing and talking. You can’t even look me in the eye.”
“I can look you in the eye. I’m just multitasking.”
“Fine.” Elliot got up and followed her down the hall. “Look me in the eye.”
Kelly wheeled around. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
“And I don’t like being told what I can’t do.”
“I didn’t tell you what you can’t do.”
“No, you’re right. You expect me to intuit what’s going to set you off, and that’s worse.”
“I think this conversation is over.”
“Of course it is.” Elliot threw up her hands. “But can you look me in the eye and tell me why?” Kelly pushed open the door to her office, but Elliot caught her hand and gave it the gentlest of tugs. “Please, Kel. Tell me why.”
Kelly froze and turned to examine her with those big, dark eyes. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either.
“I’m not demanding,” Elliot whispered. “I’m asking. Please.”
Kelly pursed her lips as though she might close up again, but instead she sighed. Her shoulders sagged and her fingers intertwined with Elliot’s. “When you said no one as uptight as Mrs. Anthony has ever had sex with a woman, it occurred to me that other people would say the same if they ever heard rumors about me.”
Close to Home Page 15