"Are these seats taken?" Lauren spoke brightly to some familiar faces.
Hannah Clark's whole family was seated in a row in the center-back of the bustling auditorium. Her sisters and her dad, Mitch, had all been swiping through stuff on their cell phones and her mom, Claire, was reading through the event's program. They all looked up almost simultaneously to see who had spoken.
Lauren couldn't help but make first and direct eye contact with Mitch; when he looked up his eyes were very startled, and his countenance remained stunned even after recognition set in and Mrs. Clark stood and stepped around her husband to give all the newcomers brief hugs and greetings. Mr. Clark stood, too. After his wife had given out hugs, it would have been rude if he had ignored the girls, so he stored his phone in his front pocket and gave the two girls closest to him - one of them being Lauren - awkward side hugs, and the third girl he just gave a little wave. The row was narrow, and it was tricky for his larger frame to maneuver between the seats. He murmured little hellos but otherwise let his wife do the talking.
Mitch had relaxed some. The corners of his mouth now turned up to resemble a smile, although he still looked almost sick, probably figuring out how to act natural even though he felt anything but calm. Lauren was cued into all of these changes in his demeanor even though nobody else was aware of the tension between them.
"Please, sit with us!" Mrs. Clark gestured obviously to the open seats directly to the right of her husband.
Hannah's sisters had already returned their attention to Instagram or whatever was so interesting on their phones. The rest of them sat. Lauren took the seat right next to Mr. Clark, as she knew the family best out of the three friends.
Lauren grasped the chair to adjust her posture in it, and as she did so, Mitch's hand that was at his side, between them, darted instinctively into his lap. He was jumpy and obviously reactive to her presence. He did not want to show any intimacy between them in front of his wife, but he was massively overcompensating beyond the realm of normal human interaction.
After a few moments of processing the surprise of Lauren's arrival and close proximity, Mitch rediscovered some perspective and relaxed his hand back to his side.
Mrs. Clark leaned over her husband to strike up a conversation with Lauren about Lauren's new apartment. Mr. Clark sat politely still as the two talked over him.
"Yeah, I've lived there about three weeks, now," Lauren informed Mrs. Clark. "It's good, but my landlord is a little spacey." Mrs. Clark nodded and rolled her eyes as she absorbed the conversation. Mrs. Clark loved gossip and she always played along animatedly with every juicy tidbit. "He's not incompetent, exactly. He keeps saying he will come over to fix the water in the shower, but it's been a few weeks and nothing..."
"Well what's wrong with the shower?" Mrs. Clark asked quickly and with too much fascination, like it was her own shower that she found out was busted.
"It only runs cold. It's like the hot water isn't hooked up properly or something." Lauren tried to match Mrs. Clark's energy. "We're a little sick of taking cold showers."
Mrs. Clark shuttered in empathy, accompanied by a little giggle. Mr. Clark stared at his hands and fiddled with his fingers.
"Well, you know, Mitch redid our entire upstairs bathroom. New faucets and all. I bet he could fix it if your landlord doesn't get back to you."
Mitch looked at his wife when she mentioned his name.
"Oh, no, it's no big deal to wait a little longer," Lauren protested, giving Mitch an easy out if he felt awkward or was too busy. He had turned toward her, now, and seemed to be slightly amused by her objection.
"It's actually probably an easy fix." Mitch said softly, as they were seated so close to one another. It was the first sentence he had heard him utter in over a year. "I don't mind at all." His kind smile was genuine this time, and even though it was small, it was still reflected in the little wrinkles near his eyes.
Lauren was triggered by his soft tone and kind, penetrating eyes. She felt a warmth spread through her chest. She felt both vulnerable and protected all of a sudden.
"I have a bit of free time on Sunday. Can you text me the address?" Mitch asked.
Lauren immediately got out her phone and opened a new text message. "What's your number?"
Mitch recited it to her. She took another moment to type out the address, and then Mitch pulled his phone out of his pocket again, just as the vibration alerted him that he had a new text. He viewed it for a moment, thanked her, and then she watched out of the corner of her eye as he added the sender as a new contact.
The air felt heavy in the auditorium. It was not too hot, but the atmosphere was full of pride and excitement. It was a big day for the young folks waiting to graduate, Hannah among them. She had worked harder than anyone Lauren knew to complete her degree; practically all of her "free" time was spent working multiple jobs. Lauren and Hannah had not spent as much time together as they used to, mostly because they both had conflicts, but they remained close out of habit.
It had only been a few minutes since Lauren and the other girls sat down, so people were still standing, finding seats, and gossiping and one-upping one another in conversation.
"Hey, what time is it? Do you think I have time to use the restroom before this thing starts?" Lauren engaged Mrs. Clark again with the question.
Mrs. Clark looked up from the program again, checked her phone for the time, and then looked around at everyone still standing. "You've got eight minutes, but there's no way it starts on time."
Lauren nodded in agreement and then got to her feet. She set her small handbag back on her chair and scooted past her friends who leaned their knees to the side to let her pass. In the aisle, she had to weave around people yapping who remained oblivious to the girl struggling to get through.
Mitch subtly craned his neck to see which way Lauren turned when she left the auditorium. He waited a beat and then said, "You know, I think I'll go too," and stood to leave the same way she did. His wife made a grunt of acknowledgement, hardly looking up from her phone, but he paid little attention anyway. He was concentrated on slipping past everyone quickly.