Participants:
| Scene Title | White or Blue |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Joanna's mind is on shopping and quality time but Tasha's is on the events of June 10th. |
| Date | July 6, 2010 |
The Mall
After work, no more court cases, no briefs to fill out and Tasha's caught up with her, the two have descended onto a mall, standing in front of a colorful pair of shoes in blue, Joanna's head canted to an unnatural angle as she stares at the near teal color.
"Would she like that one? She seemed a colorful kind of girl"
She pauses in mid verbal barrage. "Maybe white would be better instead of more color"
"I don't think … white or blue, no. She's kinda… you know. Black shoes, I don't think she wears anything else," Tasha says distractedly, her knows wrinkling a little at the color. Her mind is on something else altogether, not really on the shopping trip at hand. She's got a few items in her hands that her mother has set there, without Tasha seeming to really see them.
"Mom," she says, glancing down at the shirt on top of the pile, "what did you see on the tenth?" She's not buying that her mother didn't see anything.
"Hm?"
She looks away from the shoes, a glance to what's in hands then gestures off towards some clothing, racks of purses and everything a woman would desire and want, and none of it cheap.
'I didn't see anything Tasha. Why do you ask? Did you see something?"
"I was in Staten Island," Tasha says softly. If her mother's followed the news, she'll know that everyone in Staten had a vision. "I did. And it wasn't good. But … what you said made me worry. You saw something, didn't you? I don't think someone falling onto you would make you hit your head and pass out, Mom."
She sets the pile of stuff down on a table of shoes. "Look, I know I lied to you, but I don't want to lie to you, and I don't want you to lie to me. What did you see?" Part of her is worried her mother saw herself getting a phone call from Tasha, that she knows Colette is going to die.
"Tasha, I told you, I was in court, the opposing council collapsed against me and I hit my head on the tables. It was a re-direct, he was getting up, I was coming back. I didn't see a thing, but he did, must have. To the best of my knowledge, a handful of people were affected."
She can't do it, can't bring herself to tell Tasha that she saw herself die.
"And I know that you have still lied to me Natasha. I spoke with your father, about the Ferry, over dinner" Even Tasha knows that they still have their dinners. She's not a young child anymore. "What did you see Tasha?" Deflect, pick up the clothes to drape over her own arm and add something else, a fancier dress that she may or may not ever wear, but Tasha, in Joanna's mind, needs some fancier clothing.
She'll buy her something black another day.
The dress gets an arch of brows from Tasha. Her mother is compensating for something. "I didn't lie about Ferry. I might have … euphemized it a little because people don't understand it, but the way I put it, it's kinda how I see it, and we all know I see things differently than most people. I'm an artist after all," she rambles a bit, following her mother as the woman picks up more items.
"I did see something. I'm not sure I understand it, but I saw someone get hurt. And I want to make sure it doesn't happen. And I'm trying to figure out what happens from other people's visions. If you saw something about me, Mom, you need to tell me so I can protect myself, and keep it from happening, you know? Knowledge is power, like those Saturday morning commercials say, and it's dumb and trite but true. Don't try to be all Super Mom and protect me from bad stuff, because you know the bad stuff is gonna hit the fan anyway, right?"
"If I saw anything at all Natasha Renard, it most certainly would not have been about you and if it had been about you, I would have told you. End of story, are we clear? Because we will drop this line of questioning and discuss other things like how are your roommates enjoying the AC and the furniture. You need a clutch to go with this dress and perhaps some jewelry." She wrinkles her nose, forehead barely moving in disapproval that her daughter might be lacking in some aspects of her wardrobe.
The teenager sighs, eyes rolling. "Don't make me sound like I'm a spoiled egotistical brat just because I thought it might have been about me. It's that you're being weird about this, and I don't think you've ever lied to me before except when you told me that of course I was a planned and wanted baby. So you know, you're not very good at it, and I think that's a good quality, to be a bad liar, but right now, it's just freaking me out a little, okay?"
Breathe.
"I didn't mean to assume it was about me — I'm not self-centered. Someone I know was hurt in my vision. I saw it, so I was there too. So you know, theoretically, I was in a dangerous place, and something could have happened to me that I didn't see and maybe you saw the aftermath of. Like if I called you for help or anything like that? Apparently there were riots and fires and lots of bad things in those visions, so I'm just trying to figure it all out," Tasha says in a long exhalation of shaky breath, tears starting to spring to her dark eyes.
"Did Dad tell you if he saw anything?" she asks, finally, eyes downcast.
"I don't believe your father saw anything Tasha. The same as I didn't see anything. I was in court, would you like for me to get a copy of the court transcripts?" She could likely have someone copy them, fudge them, etc etc. She had been collapsed upon by opposing counsel, just, it happened the same time as she went down. A variant of the truth.
Her oh so perfectly manicured hand comes up to wipe at the tears springing forth, tucking a lock of hair out of way and back behind an ear. "I just want to shop with you Tasha. That's all. So we are going to shop, and some day you will show me this Ferry thing, even if your father looked like he'd rather I went into a tigers cage with steak around my neck"
Tasha's chin lifts a little defiantly as if to question her mother again, but she finally sighs. "All right. We'll shop. A clutch? Really? You know I'll set it down and lose it if it's not attached to me. I don't really carry purses," she says with a little nose wrinkle.
"As for Dad, he probably would prefer I go into a tiger's cage with steak around my neck, but you know, I think he actually likes you, still. You see him more than I do," she adds, as she heads to the purses, skeptically looking at the dress on top of the pile of stuff in her arms.
Well, maybe there will be another night at the Met, if Eileen has her way. If not, the dress will be a very expensive closet decoration.