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October 14-15, 1991
Meg doesn't have a lot of truly free days right now, because there's always school work, but she has carefully arranged her schedule to leave Thanksgiving Day completely open, with no reading, note-taking, or studying, even if there's no way to leave the whole weekend free. Thanksgiving is, after all, a day for family, which these days means Alain. They spend the morning in Mont Royal park before going over to his parents' house for the afternoon and dinner. They come home with enough leftovers to see them through the rest of the week and spend the evening watching movies.
On Tuesday, though, Meg has to jump straight back into the busy whirl of med school. Class with Dr. He (whose name that has prompted more than one Who's-On-First-ish conversation, and whose English is just accented enough that Meg is still getting an ear for it), and lunch with Donna and Jeffery (conducted in the French they're both working to improve, at least until Donna gets fed up with talking around the words she can't remember), and a long but impromptu meeting with a librarian to sort out some kind of minor and inexplicable error with her account that she's still not sure has actually been resolved.
And, when she thinks she's finally done for the day, and can go home, she gets caught by Sara-without-an-H Daniel-without-an-S. Sara-without-an-H is Meg's least favorite classmate, possibly of all time. She must be intelligent -- she got into the medical school at McGill, and they don't exactly take all comers. But she's clearly used to thinking of herself as the smartest person in the room and to everyone's being impressed with her. She comes across as superior and entitled, as well completely oblivious to the fact that she has managed to alienate most of her classmates in not quite two months. She's very loud; Meg always feels like she's being shouted at when Sara-without-an-H talks to her. And she's an American, who does seem to have realized that she's not in the United States any more (so different rules, laws, and customs apply), and that (moreover), she's in the French-speaking part of Not-the-United-States even if she is at an English language university.
On top of all that, she keeps calling Meg "Meghan" (and spelling it Megan-without-an-H when she writes it down). Meg has asked her not to on fourteen separate occasions.
Sara-without-an-H has, for reasons Meg can't quite figure out, decided that they are friends. No, not friends, allies. That whatever Sara-without-an-H is trying to accomplish (which generally means complaining/whining/pestering about until people give in to shut her up), Meg is going to be happy to help. This time, it's something about some professor's office hours not being convenient (for her, of course), and Meg stands, resisting the temptation to cover her ears (because that would be rude) while Sara-without-an-H goes on and on and Meg makes noncommittal noises before pleading the need to catch her bus and making her escape.
The bus gets caught in traffic. Meg can't really say she's surprised. It's been that sort of day. Even the twenty-minute conversation with the German tourists who want a local's opinion on where to go and what to see is pretty much par for the day's course.
Meg gets home wanting nothing but an hour to herself, and possibly being able to spend half of that doing something other than study.
Instead, once the hellos and how-were-your-days are over, Meg gets, "Oh, Luc invited us over for dinner. We probably need to leave in about ten minutes."
"What?"
"Well, you were later than I thought you'd be," Alain says.
"Traffic, but that's . . . I don't know that I can go to dinner at Luc's tonight, honey."
"We don't have to stay too late," Alain says. "And even medical students have to eat."
"No, it's not that, it's just that I don't really feel up to socializing tonight. It was a long day." With a ridiculous amount of interacting with people.
"It's not 'socializing,' ma belle, it's dinner with my brother."
"Unless we're going to be eating in total silence, it is socializing." Meg's experiences with her husband and his brother and family have not included an abundance of silences. "Besides, I did see him yesterday."
"I thought you liked Luc," Alain says, looking puzzled and a little hurt.
Meg doesn't sigh. (It's an effort, but she doesn't sigh.) "I do like Luc, Alain, you know I like Luc. It's not about liking or disliking anyone, I'm just not up to it this evening."
"I guess I can call him and tell him we can't come after all."
"No, if you want to go, you should go," Meg says. "Go, spend the evening with your brother without your wife around. The two of you don't get much time that's just the two of you any more, and he's your best friend."
"You're my best friend," Alain corrects.
Meg smiles. "And you're mine. But he's your oldest friend. And you're still his best friend. So go have dinner with your brother."
"You're sure you don't mind."
"I don't, no."
"I don't want to just abandon you."
"You're not abandoning me," Meg says, and she feels she deserves some credit for not adding, Please, just go already. "I've got a refrigerator full of leftovers and some work to catch up on. I'll be fine and busy and terrible company this evening, anyway."
"All right," Alain says, kissing her cheek, and pulling on his jacket. "I'll call you if I'm going to be later than ten."
"Don't stay out too late. Remember that it's a school night, M. Gagné," she calls after him, and he laughs a little as he closes the door behind him.
On Tuesday, though, Meg has to jump straight back into the busy whirl of med school. Class with Dr. He (whose name that has prompted more than one Who's-On-First-ish conversation, and whose English is just accented enough that Meg is still getting an ear for it), and lunch with Donna and Jeffery (conducted in the French they're both working to improve, at least until Donna gets fed up with talking around the words she can't remember), and a long but impromptu meeting with a librarian to sort out some kind of minor and inexplicable error with her account that she's still not sure has actually been resolved.
And, when she thinks she's finally done for the day, and can go home, she gets caught by Sara-without-an-H Daniel-without-an-S. Sara-without-an-H is Meg's least favorite classmate, possibly of all time. She must be intelligent -- she got into the medical school at McGill, and they don't exactly take all comers. But she's clearly used to thinking of herself as the smartest person in the room and to everyone's being impressed with her. She comes across as superior and entitled, as well completely oblivious to the fact that she has managed to alienate most of her classmates in not quite two months. She's very loud; Meg always feels like she's being shouted at when Sara-without-an-H talks to her. And she's an American, who does seem to have realized that she's not in the United States any more (so different rules, laws, and customs apply), and that (moreover), she's in the French-speaking part of Not-the-United-States even if she is at an English language university.
On top of all that, she keeps calling Meg "Meghan" (and spelling it Megan-without-an-H when she writes it down). Meg has asked her not to on fourteen separate occasions.
Sara-without-an-H has, for reasons Meg can't quite figure out, decided that they are friends. No, not friends, allies. That whatever Sara-without-an-H is trying to accomplish (which generally means complaining/whining/pestering about until people give in to shut her up), Meg is going to be happy to help. This time, it's something about some professor's office hours not being convenient (for her, of course), and Meg stands, resisting the temptation to cover her ears (because that would be rude) while Sara-without-an-H goes on and on and Meg makes noncommittal noises before pleading the need to catch her bus and making her escape.
The bus gets caught in traffic. Meg can't really say she's surprised. It's been that sort of day. Even the twenty-minute conversation with the German tourists who want a local's opinion on where to go and what to see is pretty much par for the day's course.
Meg gets home wanting nothing but an hour to herself, and possibly being able to spend half of that doing something other than study.
Instead, once the hellos and how-were-your-days are over, Meg gets, "Oh, Luc invited us over for dinner. We probably need to leave in about ten minutes."
"What?"
"Well, you were later than I thought you'd be," Alain says.
"Traffic, but that's . . . I don't know that I can go to dinner at Luc's tonight, honey."
"We don't have to stay too late," Alain says. "And even medical students have to eat."
"No, it's not that, it's just that I don't really feel up to socializing tonight. It was a long day." With a ridiculous amount of interacting with people.
"It's not 'socializing,' ma belle, it's dinner with my brother."
"Unless we're going to be eating in total silence, it is socializing." Meg's experiences with her husband and his brother and family have not included an abundance of silences. "Besides, I did see him yesterday."
"I thought you liked Luc," Alain says, looking puzzled and a little hurt.
Meg doesn't sigh. (It's an effort, but she doesn't sigh.) "I do like Luc, Alain, you know I like Luc. It's not about liking or disliking anyone, I'm just not up to it this evening."
"I guess I can call him and tell him we can't come after all."
"No, if you want to go, you should go," Meg says. "Go, spend the evening with your brother without your wife around. The two of you don't get much time that's just the two of you any more, and he's your best friend."
"You're my best friend," Alain corrects.
Meg smiles. "And you're mine. But he's your oldest friend. And you're still his best friend. So go have dinner with your brother."
"You're sure you don't mind."
"I don't, no."
"I don't want to just abandon you."
"You're not abandoning me," Meg says, and she feels she deserves some credit for not adding, Please, just go already. "I've got a refrigerator full of leftovers and some work to catch up on. I'll be fine and busy and terrible company this evening, anyway."
"All right," Alain says, kissing her cheek, and pulling on his jacket. "I'll call you if I'm going to be later than ten."
"Don't stay out too late. Remember that it's a school night, M. Gagné," she calls after him, and he laughs a little as he closes the door behind him.