Times Like These

by Ana McKenzie

  ‘Okay,’ Bianca said. ‘I just meant that I got to know my friends by actually talking to them, spending time with them – being able to see them; they weren’t just text messages and Facebook pages.’

  ‘Sure,’ Merren said, putting the toast down. ‘That’s valid, but many of my friends are more than just text messages and Facebook pages. They’re also people I meet for coffee, to see a movie, to sit around with talking.’

  Bianca pulled a face. ‘But what about social media – no one shows their real face on there. It’s all look at my happy shiny life.’

  Getting up from the table, Merren rinsed her fingers under the tap. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘That’s not been much of my experience, but then I probably don’t hang out online in the same places you would.’

  ‘I don’t at all!’ Bianca put the jar and knife down. ‘I’ve always been painting. I’ve always liked real life. I never took to computers and the Internet and all that. It’s just so much noise.’

  Merren shook her head. ‘But don’t you see – this is real life to us, to me and people my age. We don’t know any different. Online is where we get to be just as real as we are walking down the street. Maybe even more so, for a lot of us, because we can find others who share and understand our difficulties – if we’re struggling with mental health, our sexuality, anything under the sun – there are others out there willing to listen, and who are going through it too.’ She dried her hands on a tea towel and sat down with a sigh. ‘There’s just not really any separating us from the web anymore. It’s all one big world to us.’

  She reached out and touched Bianca on the arm. ‘Anyway,’ she said, and made her voice lighter. ‘I can still set up your computer so you can use it again, if you would like.’ She also looked across the table at the watch and phone in their boxes beside the jug of flowers.

  ‘And I’ve got a way for you to use your phone, as well.’

  Bianca’s eyebrows rose. ‘My phone?’

  ‘Yep, and so that you won’t lose it anymore, either. Trust me, you’re going to end up very glad you hooked up with a millennial.’

  Bianca shook her head. ‘I already am,’ she said. ‘Although perhaps not for the reasons you’re giving me.’ She found Merren’s hand and tucked hers around it. ‘What on earth are you going to do with my phone?’ she asked. ‘Tie it around my neck?’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Bianca was joking, of course. The conclusion was dawning that Merren likely had a much better idea of how she could keep up with her phone. Although, she didn’t see what it would be. Unless suggesting that she just carried it around in her pocket every day, which was probably pretty sensible. If everything had pockets. She sighed.

  Being able to find and use her phone might be convenient, considering that was the one and only piece of technology she had taken to – and consequently hardly knew anyone’s phone number anymore.

  She felt Merren let go of her hand and reach across the table for something, and she tilted her head to try to follow the movement. The streaky colours of the day before were mostly gone this morning, and she was back to her hazy vision. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

  ‘I was going to give these to my sister,’ Merren said. ‘So, I had them handy. Suzette isn’t leaving for Auckland until after Christmas, so I’ve time to replace them.’

  Bianca leaned forward. She couldn’t see what it was Merren had picked up. Hadn’t even known there was anything new on her table. She swallowed and spoke. ‘Why’s she going to Auckland?’

  ‘Suzette’s mad about sailing. It’s all she’s ever wanted to do. She’s joining a crew on a big racing yacht up there. God knows how she finagled that, but she did. You get resourceful when you want something bad enough.’ Merren was still fiddling with something. ‘Didn’t you say you’re from Auckland.’

  ‘Yes. Grew up there.’ Bianca didn’t want to talk about that, though. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, an odd apprehension growing in her gut.

  ‘Well,’ Merren said, putting something in her hand. ‘This is going to make a bunch of things run super smooth for you.’

  For a moment, Bianca didn’t know what she was holding. ‘It’s a watch,’ she said, feeling the strap with her fingers, the rectangular face. ‘I can’t see it to tell the time, Merren.’ She fought to bring it into focus, but it stayed stubbornly blurry. She tried to give it back, confused. ‘I can’t see it, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No,’ Merren said, not taking it, except to try to wrap it around Bianca’s wrist. ‘Let’s just put it on you and I’ll show you what it does.’

  Bianca pulled her hand back and rubbed her wrist, shaking her head. ‘I said I can’t see it, Merren. I don’t know what you want from me. If I can’t see it, I can’t see it.’

  There was a pause. ‘Okay, I’m sorry,’ Merren said, and Bianca relaxed a fraction. ‘I guess I should explain it better.’

  Bianca nodded.

  ‘It’s an Apple Watch.’

  ‘An Apple Watch? What’s that?’

  ‘You’ve not heard of them?’

  She’d just made that clear, hadn’t she? ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘All right.’ There was the sound of Merren sitting back, picking something else up. ‘Well, you’ve heard of the iPhone, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ Not that she’d ever bothered about owning one. One phone was the same as the next, surely? Bianca shook her head. She just didn’t have any interest in phones or computers or anything. Never had had.

  Bianca was uncomfortable. All this talk of things she didn’t understand, didn’t want, had never wanted. So she thought of the paints upstairs instead, the oil sticks, and wondered about them. If she could work life-size, like Merren’s mother and grandmother had suggested, then she could train herself to work with muscle memory, couldn’t she? That, and somehow take measurements, so she could draw figures still. Yes, she thought, swallowing, she was convinced she could do that, with a bit of help to get set up, that was.

  She tuned back in to what Merren was saying. She needed Merren’s help – which reminded her again, she needed to ask her if she would be her assistant over the holidays, not just model for her. She’d pay, of course.

  ‘I need to reimburse you for the art supplies,’ she interrupted. ‘I forgot about that, yesterday.’

  Merren laughed. ‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?’

  Bianca sighed, shaking her head. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I’m sorry, I got side-tracked thinking about painting, and well, it snowballed from there.’

  ‘Okay. Well, how about this – you listen to me run through how the watch works, and then I’ll bring in the table from your studio, strip naked, and you can paint.’

  Bianca spluttered a laugh, Merren’s words taking her by surprise. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But I still need to pay for the supplies. I have some cash that I got out of the bank when my eyesight started getting worse.’

  ‘All right,’ Merren said. ‘No worries. Now, the watch pairs with the phone…’

  ‘My phone?’ Bianca asked, surprised. ‘Did you find it?’

  ‘I did actually – it was on the floor, trying to hide under the bed.’

  Bianca nodded, unsurprised. There was probably a whole host of items hiding from her under there. ‘I didn’t have a hope of finding it then. Thanks.’

  ‘Saved me hunting through the house for it, that’s for sure,’ Merren said, and Bianca found a smile at the thought of her doing that for her. ‘Anyway, now that we have it, you can transfer all your contacts to the new phone here, and then you use the watch to make your calls and send your text messages.’

  Bianca finally paid attention. ‘What?’ she said.

  Merren’s voice was calm, patient, but Bianca still wasn’t sure about what she was saying.

  ‘You mean, I can wear this watch, and speak to it and it will make calls for me, and send text messages?’

  ‘Exactly. And play your music, stream podcasts, look t
hings up, tell you the time, the weather, make emergency calls for you if you have a fall, and even tell you what your heart rate is.’

  Bianca sat in silence, taking it in. ‘That seems rather a lot.’

  ‘I know. It’s quite brilliant, and I’m not even that much of an Apple fan.’ She touched Bianca’s hand. ‘Feel this – I have one, see?’

  Bianca touched the watch on Merren’s wrist and it vibrated under her fingers. She jumped back.

  The time is six forty am.

  ‘It spoke,’ Bianca said.

  ‘Yep.’ Merren made a happy sound. ‘I’ve set yours up already, so all you have to do is pop it on and learn how to swipe and tap it.’

  ‘I don’t know if I want a computer on my wrist that talks to me. It seems rather intrusive.’

  ‘It’s just a watch, Bianca. And if you like, we can set it up so that it doesn’t speak the time, but instead taps it out on your wrist.’

  That was even worse. Bianca wrapped her arms in close and hugged herself. ‘I know you mean well, Merren, but I don’t think I’m quite ready for this.’ She squeezed a handful of her shirt in a fist then tried to relax. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just not very tech savvy, and I’ve never liked wearing watches. I get paint all over them. And I don’t need emergency calls in case I fall down. I’m not an invalid.’

  For a moment, the kitchen was quiet, and Bianca felt as though, if she were to sweep a hand out, she’d be able to feel her words hanging in the air, quivering with offence. But she couldn’t bring herself to take them back.

  Then she heard Merren shift in her seat.

  ‘Okay Bianca,’ Merren said. ‘I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about it first, instead of just running off all excited. I tend to do that when I think of things that might help someone.’

  Bianca felt a twist of guilt. ‘I’m sure it might help. I just don’t feel ready for it. Not yet.’

  ‘No, of course not. It’s okay, really.’ Merren was fiddling with something, and Bianca guessed the watch was going back in the box.

  ‘Besides,’ she added, ‘you said you got it for your sister. I’m sure it was very expensive – you can’t go giving her gift away.’

  ‘No problem,’ Merren said, and her voice was very clear, like a bell. ‘But how about the phone, at least? It has a great set-up for the vision-impaired, and you won’t lose it like the other.’

  ‘Is it going to speak to me?’ Bianca asked.

  ‘Yeah, I guess so, if you want to use it easily. You just triple-click the Home button to turn voice-over on, and it reads everything on the screen for you, so you can navigate your way around.’

  That didn’t sound any easier. She didn’t want to learn how to triple-click things. She didn’t want any more new things to try to learn. She simply wanted to see if she could paint. Clearing her throat, she tried to tell Merren that.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘We can talk about that later, maybe. Today I just want to see if I can make any headway painting. That’s the really important thing.’ She laughed and even to her own ears, it was a brittle sound.

  ‘That’s the important thing,’ she repeated.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Merren bent over and sucked in a long, low, steadying breath. Confused, she was glad Bianca couldn’t see her, because for some reason she felt like she’d been punched in the gut. How come Bianca had just dismissed her gift right out of hand? Bianca hadn’t even thought about it; she’d simply said no.

  Okay, so not everyone was quite as knowledgeable about computers and gadgets as Merren was – she’d come to terms with that long ago, when she’d seen people’s eyes glaze over when she started talking about the things she did.

  But this was personal. She’d been trying to help – she could help, if Bianca would let her.

  She got up from the table and cleared her throat. ‘How about some more coffee?’ she asked, relieved that her voice sounded reasonably steady. Because she had the most ridiculous idea that she was going to burst into tears.

  Merren swallowed them back. Took another deep breath. Reminded herself that things were extremely difficult for Bianca at the moment. It would be the same for Merren if she was the one losing her sight.

  Although, she supposed, at least she’d be able to carry on with her work.

  Because she’d get her computer and her phone and her watch to talk to her.

  ‘Your toast is cold too,’ she said. I’ll make you another piece.’

  Bianca reached out and found her, found her hand, held it. ‘I don’t mean to be difficult,’ she said. ‘Except that things are difficult. I feel on the edge of a deep black hole, Merren.’ She grimaced, then gave a shaky laugh.

  Merren felt immediately terrible and bent down to kiss Bianca’s temple. Slid her arms around her and pressed their cheeks together. ‘You’re doing great,’ she said. ‘You’ve managed perfectly well these last few months – and you mustn’t mind me. I just get excited about stuff.’

  That got a nod, and Bianca leaned against her for a moment. ‘Oh,’ Bianca said suddenly, twisting around to face her. ‘I forgot – I meant to ask you if you want an official job as my assistant. Just for the holidays, I mean. I know you have to go back to uni in February.’

  Merren straightened, thinking about her schedule.

  ‘I’m serious,’ Bianca added, her words coming quickly, as though Merren might not believe her. ‘I’ll pay you – no problem. But it’s just that I’m going to need you, or someone, around to help me get the new studio set up and me back into painting.’ She paused a moment and Merren looked at the pleading expression on her face. ‘And I trust you – plus there’s no one else I’m ready to tell yet. I need that time I told you about, to get it all figured out. You can give me that. Please?’

  Bianca trusted her.

  The words seeped in under Merren’s skin, soothing some of the pain from being dismissed the way she had been. They spread a welcome salve over the wound and healed it. She flashed back to the night they’d just spent together and shivered, warm delight spreading through her limbs like she’d dipped them in the jar of honey.

  Her schedule over the next few weeks wasn’t heavy. Not with Christmas coming. The White Paper was almost done. Her group was on a break until next year now, and she only had a couple meetings on the calendar before Christmas.

  ‘Well,’ she said, feeling her mouth spread wide in a grin. ‘I don’t need a job, so how about I just stick around and help you out because I like you.’ She grinned. ‘On one condition.’

  Bianca straightened and when she answered, her voice was cautious. ‘What is it?’

  ‘That you come for Christmas at home with Mum and Gran.’

  Why not, after all? Bianca could do with getting out more. And maybe spending a bit of time with Olivia and Naomi would show her that age and disability needn’t hold her back. Both of them had taken to computers and technology like ducks to water. She shrugged, waiting for an answer. Then said the other reason out loud.

  ‘I’d also love to spend time with you, on a personal level,’ she said, reaching out to tug on one of Bianca’s unruly curls.

  ‘At your mother’s house? For Christmas?’

  Merren pretended to consider, twirling the curl around her finger, grazing Bianca’s face lightly with a knuckle. ‘Not just my mother’s house, for that matter, you’re right.’

  Bianca’s eyes widened. She licked her lips. ‘Where else, for that matter, then?’

  ‘Well, I go dancing on Thursday nights. You could come with me.’

  The gaze turned almost frightened. ‘Dancing?’

  ‘What?’ Merren said, pretending to be offended, to get rid of that expression on Bianca’s face. She was making a hash of this. ‘You don’t think I can dance?’ She tried to grin. ‘I’m a great dancer.’

  ‘But I can’t dance!’

  Merren tugged on the curl again. ‘Of course you can. You dance with your body, not with your eyes.’

&n
bsp; ‘I…’ Bianca frowned. ‘That’s not fair.’

  Swallowing, leaning in, Merren kissed the pouting lips. ‘Nothing’s fair in love or war, remember. Or so some dude somewhere said, once upon a time.’

  Bianca shook her head and tried to smile. ‘Which is this, then? Love or war?’

  Easing back, Merren laughed. ‘Well, we’ll have to see, I suppose.’ She paused. ‘Although, I do need to tell you – I’m

  a pacifist.’

  Bianca laughed finally. ‘Fine. You win. Dancing.’ She blinked. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe?’

  ‘Yes, and at home here, that’s all. That’s as good as it gets.’

  ‘Well, I guess that will do.’ Merren straightened and turned back to make more coffee and toast, amazed at her own flirting. She’d never been a great one for it with her girlfriends in the past. Not that Bianca was her girlfriend, or anything.

  Need to take it easy on this one, Merren chastised herself, shaking her head. She busied herself boiling some more water and waiting for the toaster to spit out two more cooked pieces of bread.

  But she couldn’t shake the disquieting sensation that Bianca wasn’t the vulnerable one in this situation.

  Swallowing, she pushed the thought aside and squared her shoulders, decided to just enjoy it all as it came. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s eat up and get on with the day.’

  Merren could feel Bianca’s nervousness grow as they made their way up the stairs to the room she planned to use as a studio.

  ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she said. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  Bianca nodded, then sighed. ‘It’s all done on faith anyway, I suppose.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Merren looked around at the room. The light curling around the edges of the windows was delicate, wavering tendrils, thanks to the tree branches dancing in a high breeze outside. ‘What’s done on faith?’