Chapter Text
The purposefully unmanicured tufts of greenery contrasted attractively with the severe geometric blocks of cement and rich wooden planks. From the bench, Bing could see the metal railings of the old tracks cross the the thin birch trunks. He allowed himself to wonder if he would have enjoyed being an architect, had he been graced with any kind of creativity; it would certainly be something to see people enjoying his work every day. Small groups of tourists, along with some well-dressed New Yorkers of the type seen in movies, walked slowly together, ate snacks, and took photographs of themselves among the rough-hewn garden landscape.
The High Line was becoming one of his most favorite places in the city. If you could say such a thing after spending less than a month in said city. Nevertheless, he was perfectly willing to take the hour-long subway ride from the office in Queens (if he made the correct transfers, that is) to meet Jane there for her lunch hour once a week.
The hollow clacking of platforms reached his ear and he turned to see Jane, dressed in just about the skinniest pair of jeans he'd ever seen on someone who wasn't a professional model or actress. She had paired it with a top that technically didn't have the sleeves to be called a jacket but was too tailored and idiosyncratically structured to be called a mere shirt. (A cape-shirt, maybe?) Jane had acclimated quickly to the increase of formality in New York fashion circles by forgoing the pretty prints and felt hats during the workweek, but he was quite pleased to see that she hadn't given up on the milkmaid braids.
As if she seemed to realize she was being stared at, Jane blushed, and Bing recovered his senses enough to stand up and give her a kiss.
"Gyros, again," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry, I haven't gotten a chance to really explore the area." Bing moved to take the bag of food from her as she dug into her large tote to procure drinks.
"Sounds good. I'm sure New York City can provide enough variation on the sandwich. Um ... Is this ok? I thought a bit of shade might be good, but we can sit somewhere else if you'd like."
"Not at all, this is fine." At this, Bing moved to dig in, the smell of the gyros suddenly rousing his hunger. It was past one, after all. "Bing, are you sure this is alright?"
"What do you mean?" His hand paused halfway into the paper bag.
"How long did it take you on the subway again?"
"Not too long, I promise. I got on both transfers this time."
"But your boss? The other workers --?"
"Jane, if I'm at work for more than thirty hours a week, they're obligated to provide me with benefits," he cheerfully informed her as he passed her an unwrapped sandwich. "So Oscar has to make sure I'm not there for at least few hours."
But Jane didn't seem to think that was particularly funny. Instead, she stared down at the pita and bit her lip. Bing put his own sandwich back down.
"Jane?"
"What are you doing about health insurance?" Bing sighed.
This is not the conversation that he wanted to have on a sunny New York City day.
"Well," he picked at the tin foil holding his sandwich together, wondering how much to tell her. "A small stipend comes with consultancy. So I can use part of it." At this, Jane took a small bite out of her sandwich, which he took as a signal to begin with his own. Nevertheless, a cloud had settled over them and the conversation that was waiting in the background for weeks was threatening to emerge.
The haste in which Jane had needed to begin work had knocked a few considerations by the wayside as they got the immediate decisions out of the way. Jane made quick work of preparing all the documents needed to sell her car. Then she had to pack and limit her haul to New York to a few suitcases that would tide her over until perhaps around the time she could return for Lizzie's graduation. In the meantime, Bing was contacting public health agencies in the Outer Boroughs to which he was referred by the organizations he served in Los Angeles. He also secured digs at a very discounted, very temporary rate from a couple of friends from Stanford who managed an apartment building in Greenpoint. He was pretty sure neither he nor Jane could afford to live there at the full rent, but at least they could take their time searching rather than falling into the first rat-infested studios they could find.
Unfortunately, they hadn't had time for a real talk. The one where they discussed what he was going to try to do in New York. And for the rest of his life. As in, something other than Becoming A Doctor, and preferably getting paid for it.
Jane wasn't a fool. Once the hugging and kissing and crying were over, she had to know what his parents thought. He was pleased to report that the talk about moving to New York wasn't quite as traumatizing as the one preceding.
"Alright, Bing, I have to admit that I know far less about non-profits than you probably do at this point," his father assented after Bing discussed his volunteer work and his future plans at length. "As for a possible Master's, well, your trust is still--"
"No." Bing was adamant. "If I go back to to school, it'll be on my dime. In fact, I’m thinking we should ask the lawyer to add some more clauses about when and how it can be used." His mother let out a whimper.
"Mom," he walked over to her and sat so that he could place a hand over her the ones clasped on her lap. "It's still public health. That's still helping people." His mother smiled, but shook her head.
"Is it selfish to want my son to be financially secure while he does that?"
Bing didn't have anything to say to that. He knew words like "volunteer" and "charity" and "social work" didn't inspire visions of financial windfall. He also knew that Jane had much of the same fears: that despite his earnest intentions, he wouldn't find a way to make his career change viable. And Jane would partly blame herself.
Bing placed a free hand over her wrist.
"Everything will work out. I don't know in what way, but they will." Jane's smile didn't reach her eyes at all, so he continued. "No matter what eventually happens, I needed to do this for myself. Not everyone has the privilege of going for what they want. But it’s not just a whim for me, Jane. I’m going to work really hard to make sure this pans out."
He briefly considered telling her about the trust. However, talking about that would have involved explaining the plan to keep it intact, for - he let himself dream - Jane and for any family they would have; but he very much doubted that either of them were, at this point, ready to have such things said out loud.
"But your mom and dad --"
"Just want me to do well, but they can't plan my entire life for me. No one can."
"No, I guess they can't." Jane finally managed a real smile, and Bing instantly felt relieved. Jane didn't exactly lack for object lessons on why trying to dictate other people's lives was such a bad idea.
"Has Caroline returned your calls yet?" Jane immediately caught the implied insult of her timing and pressed a hand to her mouth. "I mean --"
"Relax, Jane." He smiled, waving off her apologetic face. "And no, she hasn't."
"I'm sorry, Bing." He took a big bite of his sandwich and shrugged.
"Can't make her do anything in this state, so it's no use worrying," he said at length. Jane took careful bites of her sandwich and glanced at the other groups in the park.
"What if I say something? What if she thinks that I'm ... that I don't want to hear from her?"
"Well, for one thing, I'm the one calling her so I'm the one she's avoiding. For another ... " he paused, taking a swig and carefully considering his words. "Her ... feelings for Darcy ... " He was responsible for throwing the guy into her path, but Bing was always very insistent on keeping Caroline within certain boundaries.
Which was effective, up until very, very recently. Unfortunately, Darcy himself forgoing the aloof blowhard act tended to give the lie to the previously-consoling idea that he wasn't really up for any kind of relationship.
That didn't stop Bing from feeling guilty now.
"In any case, between being annoyed with me and then having to watch ... " he gestured, and Jane nodded. "Maybe she just needs some space."
Jane sighed. Bing knew the feeling. Being the oldest often meant taking the high ground, no matter how much the younger sibling was in the wrong.
He looked up at the tall buildings that surrounded them. They seemed a world away from the old brownstones in Brooklyn, but in the sunshine they were glamorous rather than forbidding.
Despite generally attesting to a hatred of nature, he knew Caroline would love this park.
Bing put down the sandwich and took the phone from his pocket.
@that_caroline Hey, how come you haven't been returning my voicemails?