Jean Spangler made it just fine without your help. (goodluck_girl) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-23 03:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, jean spangler, velma kelly |
Who: Jean Spangler and Velma Kelly.
What: Shoe shopping.
When: Sunday, 10/20.
Where: Nordstrom's.
Rating: PG-13.
Status: Complete!
Velma was enjoying the fact that she was able to get up and move around without wanting to horf every three seconds. She’d gone to the department store near their house to see if she could get some more cute flats - and maybe some maternity sweatpants. She’d felt a hard, tender patch on her abdomen beginning to grow, and it was maybe early, but she didn’t want to run the risk of anything that might even come close to miscarriage. She was almost forty, after all.
She’d found the sweatpants at a maternity store in the mall, and now she was sitting happily on a bench on the shoe section of the department store, waiting for the saleswoman to come back with a couple of boxes.
There were a few shoes that Jean had selected for work, and she’d gotten a salesperson to go to the back to fetch them for her to try on. The only seat open was next to a knockout of a woman, a few months pregnant, and glowing all the more for it. Sitting down carefully, Jean smiled at her. “I hope you’re getting flats, hon.”
Velma looked up as a gorgeous, dark-haired woman sat down next to her. “Definitely. I stopped being able to wear heels at about a month in, honey. Is it that obvious?” She wasn’t showing that much, but she did have a bag from a maternity store by her feet.
“Only ‘cause I’ve had a little one myself. And since I was seventeen, of course I insisted on wearing five inch heels the whole time.” Jean rolled her eyes, crossing her legs. “I didn’t realize there were cute flats out there. Now I live in flats because I wear heels for work.”
Velma winced. “Five inches? How did you even manage? I literally was too dizzy to walk.”
“I was young and stupid, I just sort of made myself do it.” Jean laughed. “Same way I dance in them now, I guess. Will and Tylenol.” Jean smiled at the woman, hoping she was making a new friend. “You’re two, three months in, right?”
“Three and a week.” Velma nodded, smiling. “I’m getting out of the part where I’m too sick to move, and now I guess will be the weird cravings.” And probably the craving for sex, but she didn’t necessarily figure this girl wanted to know about that.
“Oh, up next comes the cravings and the libido.” Jean giggled. “I think I only ate peanut butter during that phase. Or peanut butter flavored things.”
“I could go for that. I just don’t want the weird pickles-and-ice-cream thing.” Velma chuckled. “My fiance would never let me hear the end of it.”
“I don’t think you’ll want them at the same time. Maybe one after the other, but not at the same time. I think men just made that up because we eat things so fast they can’t tell.” Jean chuckled. She sort of still wanted kids, but figured she’d never have them. She was nearing the end of her fertile years, and she and Bucky weren’t nearly far enough along for it to be something she’d even consider bringing up.
“Sounds like something Logan would say.” Velma smiled a little. “Are you with anyone, out of curiosity? And no, I’m not propositioning, because Logan really would never let me hear the end of that.”
“I figured you were at least amenable to men, considering you’re straight and talking about a Logan. And I don’t know, I’m in the talking it out phase with a gorgeous fella.” Jean blushed a little, looking at her hands. “He plays piano at the club where I dance.”
That was friggin’ adorable. “Aw. I like that way to say it. What kind of dance do you do?”
“Right now, burlesque, but I teach ballet to little ones too. That’s what I was trained in.” Jean felt no shame about doing burlesque; it was fun, and she loved it.
“Oh, wow, cool. I used to strip in college. Burlesque’s just classier stripping, with more clothes.” Velma laughed. “You must be very talented.” She meant it; it took a lot of grace and flexibility.
“I’ve done that too. Burlesque is much better.” Jean winced and shook her head. “It’s a burlesque club that also has a hostessing angle to it too. I love it.”
“Hostessing, like in Japan?” Velma cocked her head. “I think my fiance’s friends with the owner of that place. Yuriko?”
“She’s my boss!” Jean grinned broadly. “You must be Velma! She mentioned a woman engaged to a Logan.”
“Yep, that’s my name. I’ve never met Yuriko myself, but Logan says nice things about her.” At least, that she was a lot nicer than her crazy homicidal dream self. “What’s your name, then? I should come to the club with him and see it.”
“She’s lovely. I’m Jean Spangler, and you should. Yuriko’s tried to make it lady friendly, which I appreciate a lot.” Jean smiled when the clerk came back with her shoes, toeing off her flats and slipping into the spike heels.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jean. And those shoes are sexy, but I think I’d get vertigo from ‘em right now.” Velma saw her own saleslady coming back with three boxes of flats, for which she thanked her. “I swear, when the kid’s born, I’ll dress as vampy as I can just because I can.”
“That’s the only reason to, you know.” Jean walked over to a mirror, checking them out. “I love these, but ugh, I have to get weekly pedis just to not look horrific, and even then.”
‘Is your man a leg man?” Velma smirked a little. Heels definitely didn’t hurt in that regard. “Mine is.”
“You know, I don’t know what Bucky is.” Jean turned from side to side in the mirror. “I’d assume so? I don’t have much else.”
“Please. He could be an ass man, you’re gifted there. Shit, I swear I am not propositioning you, just telling it like it is.” Velma laughed. “You really are in nice shape. I think I’m just kinda jealous.” She was starting to finally put on weight, and even though she knew it was necessary, she didn’t entirely like it.
“You’ll lose it fast, promise. Breastfeed, it helps.” Jean shot Velma a look. “Seriously, never worry about how you look. For one, you’re too smart for that, and for two, you’re a knockout.”
“Aw. Thanks, it’s nice of you to say. I think I’m mostly worried because of my age, honestly. I’m a little older than they say is smart. So I’m all paranoid. Every pound, every cough or barf or whatever.” She didn’t even want to talk about the spectre of a miscarriage.
“You’ll be fine,” Jean shook her head. “If you couldn’t handle it, you wouldn’t have gotten pregnant at all,” she assured. Moving back to sit by Velma, Jean squeezed her hand.
“I wish I had your optimism!” Velma smiled. “How old is your son or daughter now?”
“I think she’d be about seventeen now. I gave her up for a closed adoption, I just wasn’t ready for a little one.” Jean smiled, not looking sad or remorseful; she’d done the right thing and she knew it.
“Ah. I’m sorry.” Even if she looked okay with it, it was kind of tactless to bring up. “I’m sure you did the right thing.” She honestly wasn’t sure she could ever be that strong, but she respected this Jean for knowing she was.
“I was seventeen, I didn’t get the last name of the father, and I just ... hell, I’m still not really ready for children,” Jean chuckled. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
“You’re still a lot more mature than most of us would be, especially at that age.” Velma smiled faintly. “In my twenties, I was a crazy little hellraiser. I’m astonished I don’t have kids, or that I never had an abortion. Not that it would be a big deal if I had, but hopefully I’m making sense.”
“You totally do, it’s a there by the grace of God go I thing.” Jean smiled broadly. “I’m shocked I haven’t been divorced a few thousand times myself. Not that you have, just talking about things I thought I’d do and I’m glad I didn’t.”
Velma chuckled. “Well, now you have a good guy, from what you say. And mine is ... well, yeah.” She felt awkward, somehow. “I just got lucky. If you call lucky having to look after him all the time.” Her tone was fond, though.
“He’s smart, at least, your ring is gorgeous.” Jean smiled, nodding at Velma’s hand. “It suits you.”
“Thanks.” Velma smiled. “He’s not a warm and fuzzy type, or at least he swears he isn’t, but he gave this to me on my birthday. It was really nice.”
“Oh, they all swear they’re not, don’t they?” That made Jean chuckle. “I’m glad he really is.”
“I have to say, and maybe it’s too familiar, but I couldn’t even stomach the idea of being in a relationship after a few bad breakups when I was younger.” Velma had to be honest. “You’re strong.”
“I think everyone is, I just think people have to realize it.” Jean tried on another pair of shoes, toeing off her current pair of heels. “LIfe has to test someone before they know what they can take.”
“You’re right, obviously.” Just, it was still hard to fathom. “My family’s kind of well known, so the more I acted up, the more it got in the papers. At the time, it was funny.” Velma chuckled. Sure, she’d had the incident with Roxanne, but she hadn’t been tested that much. She worried that eventually, she would be. “But, eh, all that’s behind me. I’m respectable now.” She looked down at her belly, still smiling a little.
“Oh, you always were. I wouldn’t have tangled with you.” Jean gave Velma a wink before standing up and testing out the next pair of shoes. “Oh, god bless platforms.”
“I hear that.” Velma laughed, getting to her feet to try out her own flats. “Those look cute on you, and these don’t pinch my feet. I consider that a victory.”
“Oooh, those are cute on you too. You have the gams to wear flats. I just look dumpy.” Jean walked on the balls of her feet, tiptoeing a bit, making sure she could sashay in her heels.
“Gams?” Velma laughed. “I always wondered why words like that fall out of fashion. I think they’re a lot more descriptive than just ‘legs’. And thank you.” She watched Jean try the heels out. “Those suit you. The color works.”
“Everyone’s got legs. Only lucky women have gams,” Jean grinned. She nodded at Velma’s observation. “I’m for sure getting these for work, I have a gorgeous red corset I’m going to wear too.”
“That’ll be really cute. Do you have a theme that you do at the club, or do you get to pick your own?” Velma was curious; burlesque dancers usually seemed to have more freedom than straight up strippers.
“I get to choose my own, which is just lovely. No more being told I have to be the librarian.” Jean rolled her eyes. “I’m pale, so immediately, librarian.”
“Of course. Or, depending on the club, I’ve seen some really pale girls dress up as Elvira or other really gothy stuff.” Velma nodded. “The couple of times I stripped when I was younger, I got the flamenco girl outfit. Apparently I look Hispanic.”
“I don’t think I could do the gothic thing. This is how I dress every day anyway, so I always get the retro thing.” Jean pointed to her sweater. “You do have some gold undertones to your skin, you lucky thing.”
“Retro? Like, Theda Bara type retro? Because you could totally do that.” Velma grinned. “Vampy in a different way.”
“Mmhmm, kind of a Garbo thing too sometimes.” Jean wondered if the other woman had dreams. She didn’t want to mention her own dreams and have someone else think she was crazy.
“I’ve dreamt that I was a jazz, vaudeville star in the ‘20s.” Velma didn’t question talking about her dreams; either Jean was a dreamer and she’d get it, or she wasn’t and she’d think Velma was just charmingly quirky.
“Really? I dreamed I was a girl tryin’ to break into showbiz in the ‘40s.” Jean giggled, feeling thankful that she’d met someone else who dreamed. “My fella, he dreams he’s around during World War Two. It’s the sweetest, he calls me his special lady sometimes.”
“Yeah, I did a double act with my sister in the dreams. Til I killed her.” Velma had to laugh. “That is kinda cool, that you guys dream around the same time. Do you talk to each other that retro type way?” That would have been just nauseatingly cute.
“What did she do?” Jean figured Velma, even in the dreams, wouldn’t kill someone for kicks. But Velma’s question made Jean go pink again, and she nodded. “Yeah, I tell him he’s swell a lot.”
“She slept with my husband.” Velma shook her head. “Here, I swear, I’m not the killing type. Well. Unless something threatens my fiance - and his dreams are really fucked up - I’m not the killing type. But that’s a special thing that is way too long to go into here.”
“Well, that’s why I asked. You don’t seem the sort to do it on a whim. All I dream is living in Seattle, getting married young, getting divorced young, and then doing some bit parts for MGM back in the golden days.” Jean smiled broadly. “Back when movies mattered.”
“Promise, here, my hands are clean.” Velma held up the three fingers. “Brownie’s honor. I dream of growing up in Chicago, being a vaudeville star. Then my sister sleeps with my husband and I kill both of them. But of course, I can’t remember doing it.” She batted her eyelashes, looking artfully blank, then chuckling. “It was a whole thing, with prison, trial, you name it. But I wound up back on top.”
Jean blinked. “You dream you’re that Velma Kelly?”
“What Velma Kelly? I mean, my family is those Kellys, from San Francisco. Is that what you mean?”
“I mean there’s a whole movie about you, hon, and you’re fabulous.” Jean grabbed her smartphone and went to IMDB. “I mean, there’s a musical too, but this is just easier to access.”
That was news to Velma. She stared when Jean handed her her phone, eventually just starting to laugh. “That’s insane!” It was probably par for the course for Orange County, but still. Insane.
“Isn’t it fantastic, though? For what it’s worth, you were always my favorite.” Jean was grinning broadly, something she rarely did.
Velma was still adjusting. “Well, thank you. Forgive me if I’m not happy enough, just, how many days a week do you find out someone made a movie of your dreams?” She chuckled.
“I’m sure it must be just awkward and strange. But if it makes you feel any better, you’re clearly the heroine.” Jean smiled again and squeezed Velma’s hand.
“As opposed to Roxie?” Velma had seen the name in the credits list, and felt sick on seeing it. “I knew a Roxanne in college.”
“Yeah. Blonde thing with less talent, tried to steal your thunder,” Jean sighed. “There’s two types of girls in this world - ones who rooted for Roxy and ones who wanted to be you.”
“Aw, you’re flattering me.” Velma kind of liked it, even though it wasn’t good for her. “Really, you’re nice to say it. I’m just still so surprised. And Logan’s going to die laughing.”
“I wonder if he knew. Probably not, you don’t make him sound like a musical fan.” Jean just thought it was fascinating that some people dreamed of the events of famous lives. How odd that must be.
“I’m fairly sure he has no idea. Though then again, he likes to ogle my legs.” There was a picture of her in the same black outfit she had hanging in her closet.
“Who wouldn’t?” Jean laughed at that, putting back on the flats she’d been wearing when she came in. “Hell, I’m straight and I have been.”
“You’ve got your own pair. They’re better than mine, honey, trust me. You will go far in your dancing career.” Velma chuckled. “I’ll save the dancing for when I’m not knocked up.”
“Oh, I’m already old for a dancer. The time to go far has passed,” Jean sighed. “But that’s okay, I like what I’m doing now.”
“Good.” Velma smiled genuinely. “And I’d like to come see it some night. I’ll tell Logan - it won’t take much convincing.”
“I’ll be sure to come dance right by you two during my audience participation segment.” Jean chuckled. “I’ll be sure to find you.”
“I think that’d be fun.” Velma smiled. She picked up her shoeboxes. “I should probably get home, though; Logan’ll call out the cavalry.”
“That’s very sweet of him, you have a good one. Here.” Jean handed Velma her phone. “So we can have lunch sometime.”
“I’d like that, if I’m feeling up to it. Lately I’ve been feeling less gross; maybe the being-sick-all-the-time part is over now.” Velma put in her number, then did the same thing and handed her phone to Jean.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Jean put her phone number into Velma’s, and smiled right back. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, though.”
“Here’s hoping it lasts. It was good to meet you. And, uh. Thanks for telling me about the movie.” She grinned a little.
“May your man rub your feet when you get home,” Jean grinned right back. New friends were kind of swell.