Think I Want to Twist the Plot This Time

Part 4

"Do you work congruent with your classes?" he asks, putting the focus back on her.

"I live in LA, Oppie; I have to," Barbie replies with a laugh, but maybe that's a little too modern a joke? She decides to just move on before he can ask about that. "Right now I do some clerical work for a nonprofit that specializes in raising money for scholarships for women to attend college—mostly for first generation families and women of color." Of course, this is a time when college costs two cents and a loaf of bread. And even if all she does is direct calls and sign people in, it's work she enjoys doing (where she can also study during downtime), and it just feels right. "It'd be nice to work upward and maybe one day work directly with the applicants. I just love seeing all the potential these young women have."

"That's rather admirable." Oppenheimer sounds sincere, his eyes soft. It's such humble work compared to what he does, but she can at least be proud of it. "We could certainly use more women in our field."

"There's been a huge push back home to get them interested in pursuing math and science." Again, that's more of a modern notion, but at least she can give him a little optimism for the future. "It's getting a little better."

"The wheels of progress, unfortunately, take a rather long time to turn," he laments with a sigh, exhaling smoke.

"Unfortunately," Barbie repeats, humming, and that's enough to get them back into that comfortable silence. She shoots him a soft smile that he returns, before dousing the end of his cigarette on the ashtray. Gosh, there's just a few of those set up in basically every location, isn't there? But his eyes meet her again, like he's trying to commit everything about her to memory, too.

Maybe this is what she should aim for in a relationship. If she and her partner can just sit like this, take each other in without needing to fill the void of silence with some sort of meaningless conversation, that's a great sign. Of course, she has no idea if that's good for Oppenheimer, since every time they fall quiet, he seems to have his mind on the universe. That must be exhausting, and maybe even a little sad, to always feel like he carries more weight than needed. Hopefully she's kind of helped alleviate some of those worries, though she's pretty sure she hasn't made that much of an impact over the course of one night.

Barbie finally strays her gaze away from Oppenheimer, taking the time to look out the window behind him. Normally in a big city, lights illuminate every corner of every major street, headlights streaming down roads, spotlights highlighting major sporting events and concert venues. Sometimes from her window she can hear the zooming rush of cars too impatient to go the speed limit, the occasional honking, sirens and helicopters if the night calls for that kind of coverage. Heck, even when she had been in San Francisco, some of this action existed.

But here, now? Silence. Near darkness other than the few streetlamps below, whose light barely makes it up to the eighth floor of The Palace. Curious, Barbie finally stands up, patting Oppenheimer's shoulder gently as she walks by his chair just to get a glimpse past the curtains and out the window. Instead of looking down at the dead of night, however, she looks up to the sky.

Just beyond the taller buildings surrounding the hotel are those stars, the ones she saw earlier that somehow shine brighter and fuller than before. "Do you think the stars up there glowing brightest are actually dying, but they died millions of lightyears ago and we're just seeing that light down here now?" she asks, just saying what's on her mind.

"That's not out of the question," she hears him answer from behind, and he sounds like he's still sitting in the chair. "Perhaps one day, years from now, they'll simply vanish from the sky. Or they just so happen to be the ones closest to us." And then she hears him shift, probably to see just what she's doing. "Do you normally stand in front of windows wearing next to nothing?"