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Andrew Prior is laughing at something Natalie Prior has said. Abnegations aren’t supposed to express such outward joy but the couple have always been slightly different to the rest. There are two children with them. Caleb Prior sits on the bench behind them - his little legs swinging. Beatrice Prior is in her mother’s arms, clinging onto her side like a koala on a tree.
They look happy. They are covered in grey and they aren’t supposed to show too much happiness - but they are radiant and happy. It oozes off of them in the way Caleb lights up when a butterfly comes past him, in the way that Andrew gazes at Natalie, and in the way Beatrice giggles when Caleb makes a funny face at her.
They are happy and Jeanine watches from afar, a warm cup of coffee in her hand desperately attempting to warm the coldness she feels in her heart. But she knows that the warmth will fade just like hers did and she only holds the coffee because she is so exhausted that she needs enough caffeine to kill a cow to keep her going. She knows that she will never have that kind of warmth. Those days are gone for her and she wonders whether she ever had them in the first place.
Natalie notices her and gives her that small polite Abnegation smile before beckoning her over. Jeanine feels like dissolving into the ground - that may be less awkward than whatever this is going to be. Andrew cannot stand her. She is going to ruin this moment. She is going to be the rainstorm that drowns out the warmth the family were feeling. In a more petty moment she’d like that - but she is softer than usual today. It’s her birthday. She is thirty now.
Most women have families by thirty. Jeanine knows that but she never really wanted a family in the first place. But watching allows the small maternal part of her to entertain the idea. She imagines what it would be like to have a baby in her arms - to have a laughing toddler clinging to her leg. She wonders whether she could be a good mother if she really tried. She wonders if she could be as good as Natalie is.
She walks over, shaky legs betraying her even more due to the height of her heels. She has to wear ridiculously high heels or the men won’t take her seriously. They are still taller, but at least they don’t tower over her when they talk. At least she doesn’t look like she is sitting down in team photos. She has just taken over as Erudite leader, she needs to be taken seriously.
She tells herself that Erudite is her baby. She knows that some of the men in her teams already treat her like their mother but she does not like that - because she isn’t. They are grown men and grown men need to stop expecting women to cater to them. Most of them are older than her - some could have children her age. She is tired.
She attempts to plaster a smile on her face when she reaches the family. It doesn’t reach her eyes. But then again even somewhat real smiles haven’t reached her eyes since Andrew left her. The Choosing Ceremony changed everything. She knows that it is selfish to wish that Andrew had stayed with her - had stayed single so they could be lonely and childless together. Because she can’t love Andrew, she has known that since she was nine and started getting jealous of the older boys that had girlfriends rather than their girlfriends, but she loved him in the way a sister loves a brother. She loved him in the way that she would have died for him - and she knows that some part of her still does.
Perhaps they could have adopted together. Or Andrew could have had a family within Erudite and Jeanine could be the workaholic aunt that bought them alcohol when they were older and told them the ways of the world. But Andrew left, and Jeanine can’t even blame him. Because she knows she messed up. That factionless man died last year.
She always kept tabs on him, the guilt that sixteen year old her felt never truly left. She ruined a man’s life. He may have been factionless, he may not have had much, but he had himself and he never truly did after her young shaky hands injected him with that liquid. She knew it was unstable, she knew it wasn’t safe, and yet she still let Norton talk her into it. She tries to blame Norton but she knows it wasn’t all his fault. She made the decision. She pushed down the plunger of that syringe.
She throws the now cold coffee in the bin.
“Jeanine,” Natalie finally says when she is close to her, “you look lovely.”
Jeanine looks down at herself and knows she is lying. She looks exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes have become deep crevices. She is wearing the same clothes as yesterday - she didn’t have time to change after crawling out of another woman’s bed before her meeting this morning. She needed to feel less lonely last night and the person that made her feel slightly less alone knows what she is like. She knows she doesn’t commit. There are two views of Jeanine in Erudite: she is either a prude or a slut. Only one can be true but Jeanine likes to believe she is neither. Men sleep around so why can’t she? At least she always makes sure the people she does it with knows that it will never be serious.
“It’s your birthday today,” Andrew comments. “I remember.”
“Yes,” Jeanine confirms. “Thirty.”
Natalie smiles. “And with so much to show for it.”
Jeanine is about to attempt to respond in a way that is not self-deprecating but is stopped when she feels something at her leg. She looks down and sees Caleb, large green eyes staring up at her. There is a curiosity there, a curiosity that matches his father’s when he was younger.
“You must be Caleb,” she says instead, happy to get the conversation off of her.
Caleb nods. “What your name?”
“My name’s Jeanine,” she replies. She bends down so that she is on his level. She doesn’t miss the wary look Andrew gives Natalie or the way Natalie shakes her head at him. “How old are you now?”
Caleb seems to think for a moment before thrusting two fingers out in front of him. “Two,” he says.
“Wow,” Jeanine smiles, “you’re getting very big.”
Caleb nods proudly before extending his arms out in front of him. “Up?” he asks.
Jeanine looks to Natalie for permission and she nods, still standing with Beatrice wrapped around her. So Jeanine picks Caleb up and mimics Natalie’s position.
“T’ank you,” Caleb murmurs. He is certainly a polite boy. He begins to play with her hair, tangling his small hands in her shoulder length strands.
“He is adorable,” Jeanine says. And she actually means it. This is a child that she likes, that she feels a motherly affection towards. She never understood how women could say they felt like this towards children they did not know but she understands now. She tilts her head towards Beatrice, who has her head hidden in Natalie’s chest. “So is she.”
“Do you want children, Jeanine?” Natalie asks.
“I don’t think it’s on the cards for me,” Jeanine replies somewhat somberly. “I’m too busy with work and who would I have them with?”
“Yourself,” Natalie offers. “You can have a child yourself if that is what you truly want.”
Jeanine looks down at Caleb and realises how warm she now feels. She allows herself to consider it, loses herself in those wide green eyes. But she knows it is not in the cards for her and she shakes her head.
“Erudite is my child.” She sighs. “It was lovely meeting you Caleb,” she says as she hands him over to Andrew. “Nice seeing you two again.”
She goes to walk away but Andrew stops her. “Jeanine.” She turns around. “Happy birthday,” he says.