Re: The Flibbertigibbet/The Pilot
Oh you could ask. You could ask and ask but if you really wanted to know anything, you had to shove your nose in every which way until you found whatever it was you were looking for, grubbed out of the dirt with your own two hands. Lili didn't believe in breaking a nail over answers to questions that would work themselves out. Who cared why the train had stopped? It had. So long as she didn't go vanishing into thin air. She had a job lined up, a real plum one.
Carter, the woman in the austere clothes, spoke French. She probably cared a good deal about education, too. But Lili's education had taken in champagne, and jewels and all the ways to coax a man out of a smile all the way in the back of the movie theater. She flourished her glass a little haphazardly and sipped champagne that was a vintage expensive enough that the man had balked at buying it by the case which only confirmed that it was only to be had by the case. Carter looked like she didn't know where to put herself, and Lili swept all the things off a low, straight backed chair with a generosity of mess that was fully inviting.
"Oh," she said, as if this were a new idea entirely and regarded the mess with some degree of woeful intent. She nudged a silky scarf nearest her right foot with her big toe. "I guess that's one way. I just turned everything upside down as I went to find it." She swapped hands on the champagne glass to shake, even if she'd never much gone in for shaking ladies' hands. You kissed, or you hugged or something, until you could practically inhale the other girl's scent or you just stared at one another, madder than cats across a room. "I'm Lili. No Miss, just Lili." She didn't think Carter saw her movies at all. "What do you do?"