Author's Notes: Hello again. So, in order to do the Paily ship justice I decided to write one long one-shot to depict what might have happened post PLL finale. This is my only story that can be considered completely canon.
To clarify one thing: the use of she without a name having been declared is the narrator, Paige McCullers. I decided to use that method because after having attempted to write a part of the story in first person but it just didn't sound right so instead I opted for writing it in third person, using the personal pronoun without a reference to a name to imply that the person being referred to is Paige. I hope this comes across clearly enough. Anyway, enjoy the fic :).
"Idiot," she couldn't help muttering to herself, pulling up her map for the umpteenth time to compare it with a nearby bus map. "You are such an idiot, Paige McCullers."
And just like that she was even more lost than she was before. Indifferent people looked her by, most with headphones in their ears, sunglasses up. It was a metropolitan city after all, not sweet, old Rosewood. People in such places learned indifference as a way to cope. She remembered it from her time living in one. She wanted to stop someone, ask for direction, but could not stand the blow it would take to her pride, knowing how people would want to roll their eyes at her patronizingly. Yet another Yankie tourist, they would think. Just as she was getting ready to give up; she was thirsty and her bones were aching and she really wanted to sit down, she decided to take one last look around. And just as she was about to finish her full circle she bumped head first into another woman, whose items fell to the ground with a large thud.
"Pardonnez-moi, parlez-vous… uhm… je suis un…." she sighed. This was ridiculous. And incredibly awkward. No need to make it worse by accidentally calling this poor woman a croissant. Or something far worse. "Sorry. I am so sorry. Let me get that for you."
"I got it. It was my mistake. I wasn't looking," said a flustered Emily Fields.
Wait. That couldn't be. After all this time? In the middle of Paris, a city with millions of people, thousands of miles away from their hometowns. That was it. She was going crazy. Maybe it was disorientation. Maybe it was dehydration. But as she rubbed her eyes and took another look at the other woman there was no doubt. She was older; the bags under her eyes were more noticable, there were a few gray strands in her raven hair and on her shoulder was a tattoo peeking out of her t-shirt, but the woman staring back at her was definitely Emily Fields. And just as that happens the clock strikes twelve and the bells start to chime.
I
"Paige? What are you doing here?"
"I was just about to ask you the same thing?" and without thinking any further, the two women lent in simultaneously, embracing one another heartily. Once they were done they both backed away, feeling self-conscious, both undoubtedly wondering if they had overstepped some sort of boundary. After all, a long time had passed since they had seen one another.
After some initial stuttering and confusion they start talking, realizing that they are both in Paris for their holidays: She is going to do a week long tour with her kids and Emily was about to do a weekend getaway with her friends, arriving a day early. Both were suppose to pick their travel companions up at the airport, getting completely lost in the process.
"Well, excuse me but at least I arrived per the other airport," Paige said defensively.
"So what? I arrived in the middle of the night. Paris looks completely different in the dark!" Emily shoots back.
Eventually they stop arguing who has messed things more up and agree to grab a cup of coffee together in order to take advantage of the café's Wifi to use Google Maps and perhaps play a game of catch-up if there is time.
As they find out once their phones are connected, the flight has been delayed and they have nothing if not time on their hands and agree to turn that coffee into a dinner. And it is over that plate of perfectly cooked duck leg that they decide that despite having not been in contact for more than two decades they should make an effort to stay in touch more once they are back home from the holiday.
"You're not just saying that?" she asks, looking at though other woman through the reflection of her glass. "Because I've ran into plenty of people from various point in my life and they always do the same routine. Like "oh, we should totally get together sometimes" like they're afraid that they're not allowed to just shrug and say their farewells."
"You mean that you don't think I'll call you after this?"
"No. That's not what I mean. I just mean that you don't need to feel compelled to say this. I mean, I'd love if we could grab a cup of coffee sometimes after this. But if you don't, I'd understand. I really would."
"Paige, I am as certain that Hanna will have used her 12 hour delay wisely at the airport bar and will be unintelligible and hilarious once she finally tumbles through that gate, as I am that I want to stay in contact with you."
"That is a pretty hefty bet Emily," she remarks, smirking a little. "I mean, that is something that is going to be a 100% certain thing."
"How would you know? You haven't met Hanna for as long as you haven't met me. Or have you?" Emily asks, raising an eyebrow at the other woman.
"Well, we did both get stuck at the Sacramento International Airport over thanksgiving five years ago."
"I can't believe she's never told me about this."
"I doubt she actually remembers it. We got some free coupons for food services because of the delay and we spent them all on booze, then we booked a super shady motel room and ended up talking for most of the night. When I woke up the next day I saw that my flight had been rescheduled and was departing in two hours so I had to dash while she was still asleep."
The raven haired woman is silent and for a moment she is struck that she feels somehow insulted that there was this encounter between her and her best friend, as platonic as it was, that she knew nothing about. Instead, a sly smile sneaks over her lips. She raises her glass:
"To staying in touch. And taking care of drunk Hanna."
"I'll drink to that," she says, returning the smile and clinking their glasses together.
II
Emily does not waste any time. She has barely thrown her suitcases on her bed after an exhausting, yet rewarding week in the foreign city when she notices a ping on her cell phone and a friend request from the ravel haired woman. She feels almost embarrassed that they were not already friends on social media, having only recently re-emerged in that field. The conversation starts with pleasantries, enquires about how the trip was, sharing of photos. But it is not long until she starts asking if you have any plans to venture back to Rosewood and you respond that with the summer having just begun you still have plenty of vacation left and that you have been thinking about going to Pennsylvania to visit members of your family. She responds cordially, living up to her promise of wanting to stay in touch, and she invites you to have a cup of coffee in case she wanted to stop by.
She decides to take her up on the offer, making arrangements to meet her at the Brew, for "old time's sake". She is quite nervous when she shows up, early of course, and orders her regular, latté with a splash of hazelnut syrup which the poor server has to go all the way to the back to look for because "honestly, not that many people order it anymore." She thanks him profusely for the extra effort and leaves a generous tip before taking a seat in the far corner, anxiously sipping on her coffee, trying as she may to look casual.
The bell at the door clings quite frequently, people are ordering coffee to go, meeting old friends or just coming in for the generous portion of cobbler. But once she hears the door swing, following by the bell clinging, she can just feel that it is the one she's looking for. Because she still does that thing that she used to do all those years ago when she enters a room, she lets the door fall behind her, making a short shake to get the hair out of her face and then one more to look around the room before her eyes settle on the one that she looks for. She makes an act of not seeing her right away, but once she approaches the table she can't help herself, making an awkward wave as a way to usher her to the table. She berates herself for it right away, but silently thinks, clenching her jaw together. "Gosh McCullers, twenty years down the road, and you're still the same awkward dork."
But Emily doesn't seem to mind. She sits down, giving a warm smile, before noting that she should probably get back up to order at the counter. She sits back, looking at the other woman walking away, knowing that she'll be back right away, but still not being able to fight the feeling that moment can't come soon enough.
Their chat is pleasant. The inform one another of what they are currently doing. Emily is training the Rosewood High swimming team, helping swimmers with similar challenges that she herself was facing when she was a student at the school. She tells her about the position that she occupies at Iowa, having moved up from assistant swim coach to head swim coach to finally becoming the athletic supervisor. She tries to play it down, but Emily mentions that this is quite a more prestigious position than the one that she used to occupy at Rosewood, even though the position went by the same name. After all it was the difference between a small pond and a big pond. And in both of those, she had now been a large and important player. Emily looks embarrassed:
"I can't even imagine occupying such an important position. I mean, look at me. I'm still back here where you left me."
"Don't say that Emily," she says, and without even being aware of it, her hand grasps Emily's. "You are changing these kids lives. I just know it."
III
Their third meeting is planned by Emily. She mentions an intense retreat for teachers and before she knows it, an invitation has popped up on her screen. It's a hiking trip, a team building exercise for people working in the athletic departments of high schools and universities. Before even checking the dates, she has clicked 'accept'. Because a part of her knows that she wouldn't miss it for the world.
The activities of the camp feel familiar enough. They are divided into teams and the plan is to hike up to a cabin that is located at the top of a mountain, overlooking a ravine. But it is once they arrive to the cabin late that evening and she decides to mingle with some of the other attendees in order not to hog Emily completely that she realizes that she doesn't know any of those people. And as a homey looking woman in her sixties remarks when Emily nudges her, that the two must know one another, she also realizes that neither do they know about the two of them or their history. Even though she was of course aware of the facts, they still manage to hit her: there is an entire life that has been lived by both of them, where they have met people, made friends and had relationships where they have not been apart of each other lives.
"Hey," the voice pulls her from her thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing," she says, smiling reassuringly. "Just gazing into space. What's up?"
"We are suppose to sign up for rooms, do you mind if we bunk up?"
"Sure thing. Let's get our stuff out."
IV
After the camping weekend there seems to be that an outdoor bug has been rewoken in her. Shortly after returning from the trip she digs out her mountain bike and starts going on long treks in the forest area around the city. She makes sure to post updates about it online, noticing that every post is liked by one specific brunette. A couple of weeks later she notices that she has been tagged in a post and is surprised to find a photo of a sweaty, happy Emily, overlooking a forest trail:
'Got inspired by one Paige McCullers and decided to get the old bike out. Not my best time and I definitely need more practice but you know what they say. #practicemakesperfect '
After the tag she becomes even more ambitious, going for adventurous treks that test her body and her mind. She often finds herself looking for the nearest elevator instead of taking the stairs, something that she never used to do, because her calves and thighs are completely spent from the weekend rides, all of which she puts online and tags Emily in, egging the other woman on in. They are back in a familiar pattern. They are competitive, always trying to get over that knife's edge that will give them an advantage over the other woman. It feels intense, familiar and somehow, so incredibly good.
V
After a couple of months posting banter back and forth she finally plucks up the courage and invited Emily to a four day fundraising cyclothon. She feels a nervous pang as she signs them up for the cyclothon and can't help but ask herself why. It is definitely not because she's not up for the challenge. After all, her rigorous back and forth squabble with Emily has probably put her in the best shape that she has been since she stopped swimming competitively. Rather it is emotional nerves. Because all though she is inviting her for a very public event, they will be going there together, surrounded by other people who are probably doing the same thing -attending the cyclothon as friends or companions.
To subside her nerves she focuses on what she is best at -organizing. By the time that she leaves on Friday evening she is set to survive a small national emergency, not to mention that she also has several things for Emily in case she had forgotten something. Meeting with her doesn't turn out as anxious as she had pictured when she over thought it driving over. There seems to be some sort of line that has been relaid between them and once they meet again the connection is instant. They spend the small remainder of their arrival night grabbing a pizza close to the motel they are staying, carbo-loading before a big event, just like old times. Once they are back in the motel and she is back from changing into her pajamas in the bathroom, she notices that instead of lying down the other woman is still upright in her bed, gazing into space.
"Anything on your mind?" she asks, sitting down on her own bed.
"I don't know," Emily mutters. "Why do you want to know?"
"Remember what coach Fulton used to say?"
"You can never accomplish a good sprint with a heavy heart," they say in unison and laugh awkwardly as they realize it.
"Thanks Paige," Emily says. "I really needed that."
"I didn't do anything."
"Yes you did. It's been a while."
"A while since what?"
"Since somebody genuinely asked me what was on my mind. I guess it's been so long that I don't even know what's on there anymore. But once I find out I'll let you know. Promise."
"Luckily you have one hundred miles to reflect on that. And I'll hold you up to that promise."
V
The first thirty miles of the cyclothon goes swimmingly. However, in the afternoon she notices that Emily is having problems keeping up and signals that they should stop at the side of the road.
"What's wrong?" she asks, squatting next to the other woman who is visibly pained.
"It's nothing," Emily says. She is obviously pained. Her breaths are coming out in gasps.
"That's not true and you know it," she says, looking over the other woman's body, trying to determine where she seems the most pained.
"It's… it's my leg. I think I have a cramp," Emily says, indicating toward her left leg.
"Let me see," she says, and without thinking she leans forward and peels the trek shorts away from Emily's calf and takes a look at it. In most other situations this would make her blush, because embarrassingly enough, with many more rings around her belt, she is still awkward and fidgeting like a schoolgirl around the other woman. But this is different. Emily is injured. And she needs her help. She finds the source of the problem almost immediately. The muscle that she touches with her well trained fingers is tense beyond belief. She rubs it, first gently and then turning more aggressive as Emily eases into the motion. "It's just a cramp. I need to rub it out. Here. Have some isotones, it will help. You need electrolytes."
She continues massaging the other woman's calf, while she gratefully sips the beverage that she had just handed to her. After a couple of minutes she notices a welcome change in the other woman's demeanor: she is no longer tense and it seems that the pain is slowly receding.
"Is it getting better?" she asks.
"Yes, it almost feels alright again," Emily says, stretching her leg, showing that she has regained normal movement.
She backs away, the feeling of awkwardness suddenly flushing over her from having touched the other woman in such an intimate way. She tries to change the subject. To sound casual:
"Alright, are you ready to get back in the saddle?"
VI
Their result in the cyclothon isn't quite disastrous for simple reasons; the have been training for months. But then again they are not even close to the top marks; those are reserved for younger, more eager participants. Nonetheless the two women are content with themselves as they hug after having reached the finish line. In a very uncharacteristic move for both of them they decide to chuck the entire thing into carelessness and stay in the small town for another day. After all, Monday is a closed day at their respective schools and they are free to do any work to prepare for the next day through emails. So they opt for booking a small B&B. Once they have disposed of their luggage, they decide to take a walk around the picturesque town, and they discover a small bistro and brewery. After gorging on the main course and consuming a couple of the local brew things start moving forward, but ironically in a direction towards the past at the same time.
"I've decided to take you up on your offer," Emily offers, once you are easing into your second after dinner drink.
"And what offer is that?" she asks, admittingly having forgotten the context, well into your third drink.
"You asked me what was on my mind previously," she responds. "And I think I know what it is now."
The other woman reaches into her purse, dragging out a heavy wallet which she opens up, revealing its content. They are familiar of course, already revealed to her when they met that fateful day in Paris. They are pictures of Emily's children; two girls, nestled safely in the comfort of her wallet.
"These are Lily and Grace."
"I know. You've told me about them already." There are things that you leave unsaid: the children made from her eggs. Put into Alison't womb. One of the reasons why you decided to leave it all behind. Because you knew that you were not able to compete with a force such as this. However, where you left them, was at the point where they were mere infants, hopeful specimens. What Emily tells you at this point however, runs much deeper. She had already disclosed that both of them were well brought up, they graduated, went to college, did everything that was expected of them.
"What shocked me the most," Emily says, cradling her glass of strong liquor. "Is the fact that they turned out to be such completely different personalities. Now, I know the biology, that they were both conceived from the same egg that splitted. But it still amazes me how they turned into such completely different characters."
"How so?" she asks, looking at the other woman.
"Well, originally I thought that I was going to have my hands full with Lily. She was always so rowdy, and she would get angry, let me tell you. Had some problems with her temper when she was younger. Just like… Ugh, I'm going to come across as such a bitter ex when I say this but..."
"Just like Alison," she finishes her sentence for her. "Don't worry about the comment. Alison grew into a capable adult but I think most people would agree that as a youngster she had quite the temper. But then again so did I. People change. And did you manage to work through Lily's temper tantrums?"
"Yeah. The solution actually came easier than we expected. We found out that she needed an outlet for her energy and signed her up for the field hockey team. That became quite a hit and she even ended up attending college on a scholarship."
"That's quite impressive," she says, smirking. "But did she though get a penalty named after her?"
Emily looks at her for a moment, seemingly trying to determine whether the other woman is serious, before both of them burst into a laugh.
"Sorry. I sidetracked you there," she says. "You were talking about Lily and about to…"
"Get into discussing Grace," Emily says, looking down. "She turned out to be the real enigma here. All though Lily had problems, she was always very outspoken and aggressive about them. Grace on the other hand, she was so quiet that we misread that as her not having any problems. But then she began flunking her classes, not disclosing where she was, hiding things…"
"Did you manage to find out why that was?"
"Yes. It took almost two years. By that time she was already failing her classes and she ended up dropping out in her senior year. It was then that we found out. She had been having an affair with a man that had been a substitute teacher at Rosewood High."
She can feel the pain almost pulsating from the other woman, who despite being obviously uncomfortable by the information that she has just submitted, carries on:
"He had gotten acquainted with her during her junior year and had planted these ideas into her head that she was special but only in a way that he could see. She was feeling left out because Lily's shenanigans were taking up all our attention. He… he took advantage of her. He had no intention of helping her of course. To reach her true potential. He was just using her as a diversion, to make his own uneventful life more interesting. When she became unusable to him he just dumped her like some used object and moved onto a new target that he could dazzle as a seemingly cultured and world wise man. She came back to us a broken, young woman."
"Did you ever manage to catch him? To make him pay for what he did?"
"If you mean in the judicial sense, no we did not. It was his word against her. She did however manage to meet up with the next girl that he was grooming and warned her, and unlike her parents, she did adhere to Grace's words. So I guess there was some justice in the end."
"That is very courageous. You raised very brave girls Emily. Has Grace managed to get her life in order after that?"
"She is putting the pieces together again. She just finished her GED's and applied for a community college for a counseling course. I guess she wants to help girls that are in a similar position that she once was."
"That's good. I mean, it's horrible what happened to her but I'm happy that she is making use of that experience to help other people. I have to ask though, is this what was on your mind on Friday?"
"In a way. But not quite."
"How so?"
"What I was wondering about was actually and this is going to sound so dumb now: but have you ever felt that you have somehow disappointed yourself."
"What do you mean? You raised two amazing kids."
"I didn't do that on my own. All though we became somewhat estranged I have to admit that Ali also played an important role. And my mom helped a bunch. I couldn't have done it without either of them. I just feel that my own role wasn't that pivotal. Maybe they would have been better off without me."
"Emily, that is hogwash and you know it. Here. I'll show you something," she says and grabs her wallet from her jacket pocket. "Meet Parker and Prue."
"Those are wonderful photos. When were these taken?"
"It's the photos for their senior year. Prue's was taken five years ago and Parker's was just last year."
"They are both older than Grace and Lily. I hadn't realized before."
She can see the confusion on Emily's face and berates her for not having told her before but decides that now is as good time as any:
"They are adopted. They were adopted by me when they were in high school. I haven't even spent that much time with them when you come to think of it but to me it feels like I've known them forever. But we'll get into that some other time. What I wanted to tell you Emily is that I know this feeling that is troubling you. I've felt it. I sometimes feel it still. Just like any other parent. We wonder if we've done right by our kids. If they wouldn't have just been better off without us. And that fact is what makes us good parents. Because we doubt ourselves."
"Your years have made you smart McCullers. Or maybe you were all along," Emily says smirking. She raises her glass. "To our doubts. Perhaps they are what makes us great."
She clicks her glass against hers:
"I'll drink to that."
VII
She can feel that they are moving towards a more intimate stage because the next time the other woman doesn't even invent an excuse for a meeting but instead she invites herself over to Iowa. She brings Grace along, claiming that it will make a nice trip to the big city. She casually responds that she can house them over the weekend, but she is silently doing an excited step while she concludes the phone call.
Once she is preparing the guest room however, she hears a knock at the door. She is pleasantly surprised to find her daughter on the other side.
"Prue. What are you doing here?"
"Remember that trip that me and Karen were thinking about going to during the off days we got from work? Turns out that she ditched me for that guy that she had just started seeing," her daughter put on a high pitched, girly voice. "You just don't understand Prue. He is soooooo dreamy and he invited me to his cabin in the mountains. He is just so romantic."
"From what you've told me about Karen she's not exactly an outdoorsy type…"
"Thank you! She will call me in a couple of days, whining that she can't take any more mosquitoes and that she is heading back. But I decided that this time around I won't come running straight to her when she meets me. That should teach her a lesson. So, I decided to surprise you by spending my break here. What's for dinner?"
VIII
Emily shows up late Thursday night with a weekend bag and a brunette girl trailing her.
"You must be Grace," she says. "I'm very happy that you decided to join your mom for the trip."
Grace response with a mumble and Emily steps in, hugging her tight:
"Sorry this was so last minute. She is suppose to write an essay during her break about after school programs in action and was just stumped so we figured that a change of scenery might do her good."
"We're happy to have her," Prue says. "The more the merrier. Come on Grace. I'll show you where you can put your things."
IX
The stay has good effects on all four women. She takes them to see the Natatorium at the university and she and Emily compare training strategies and how training methods in late stages of high school and early university can be linked for maximum results. Grace, who is usually quiet and withdrawn seems to take quite a liking to the outspoken Prue, who aids her in her project, guiding her to find interesting sources at the university library. They end up reliving their old juvenile days on Saturday, their final night, by sneaking into the Natatorium and throwing an impromptu swimming competition. Prue emerges as the winner, with Grace careful timing the three women as they close in on their final lap.
"You are an amazing swimmer," Emily says once they get out of the pool.
"You're not so bad yourself Fields," Prue says, whipping the swim cap off her head and shaking her hair loose. "I thought you didn't swim anymore. Mom told me that you had an accident that put an end to your career. Sorry. Am I being too brusque?"
"Not at all," Emily says, turning her right arm clockwise, stretching after the sprint. "I had an operation some years ago. After some rigorous physical therapy I was able to swim confidently again. It was way too late to restart my career again, but at least it allowed me to swim regularly enough to give your kind a run for your money. However, I am surprised that your mom let herself be beaten by you."
"It is the the burden of a master," she says, approaching the other women. "We are what they grow beyond. That is the true burden of all masters"
Grace chuckles:
"Did you just quote Yoda, Paige?"
X
It seems that Grace has taken more liking to Prue than they had previously anticipated because the younger woman decides to move her mattress into Prue's old room.
"So we can put the final touches to my essay," Grace claims, but by the looks of things it seems like they are rather planning when they can meet up next.
"I like it, having a younger woman to guide," Prue remarks after dinner while they sip wine on the couch. "I've always liked being a mentor for Parker, but I get fed up with his boyish ways sometimes."
Later, once their two daughters have retreated to Prue's old room and they can hear soft snoring, the two women chuckle amongst themselves.
"I can't help but feel like they are two teenagers having a sleepover," Emily remarks.
"Our kids might have gotten big and independent but in the end they are always just… our kids," she says.
"After the cyclothon you mentioned that you would get into the story of Prue and Parker some other time," Emily says, observing the reaction of the other woman. "Could this perhaps be that time?"
"It might very well be," she says, getting up and retrieving a photo album from the shelf. "I met Prue when I went to her high school to scout hopeful college swimmers. Prue was the top swimmer in her team, despite having never tried out for captain. She presented herself as such an enigma to me. I knew from the talk in the teacher's lounge that she came from a broken home. Dad wasn't around. Mom had a new boyfriend and he was some sort of a crossbreed between her partner and her dealer. What I first couldn't get was why she wouldn't be eager to escape such a situation and pay her way into college. But then I did some more research and I found out that she had a younger brother who had a degenerative disease that was making him blind. Turns out that she was his carer of a sorts and was afraid that if she left him behind to go to college that he would have no one."
"And what did you do, once you knew that?"
"At first, I realized that I had to gain her trust. I offered to observe some of her trainings, giving her advice on how to improve her form. She started hanging out with me after practice and after some time we established quite a camaraderie. She told me about her situation at home, how she was planning to get out of the house once she graduated, get a job and get Parker to move in with her. It was so heartbreaking. A kid, sixteen years old that should have been worrying about exams and who was inviting her for the spring final was planning out her adult life in order to get her brother out of a toxic household. At the end of the semester I got a call and heard Prue sobbingly asking me if I could meet her at the police station. It turns out that her mom had overdosed and her mom's boyfriend was being detained on the suspicion of having supplied the narcotics. He of course would get out because of lack of evidence. But Prue told me that she and Parker couldn't go back and I believed her. So I offered to become a temporary guardian for her and Parker so they didn't have to be seperated. The temporary guardianship turned into a permanent adoption. Two years after that incident Prue was able to apply for colleges with several offering athletic scholarships, knowing that Parker was safe and in a program of his own which could allow him to attend college later on. Prue graduated and joined me at the university as an assistant coach and Parker is currently enrolled to become an advisor. And I guess, that just leaves us here."
"They are very lucky to have a mother like you," Emily said, with a genuine smile that reached all the way up to her eyes. "Some family we can indeed choose and they chose you. In some way that makes it even more precious. In my case I always trusted that here was some higher power that was directing me towards a path that had already been chosen for me. I guess I had to get burned to figure that was not necessarily the case."
"How so?"
"When you left for Iowa I was devastated. But instead of dealing with it I invested all my energy into the idea that me and Ali were meant to be and that I just had to work my very hardest and then everything we would work out."
"And did it?"
Emily looks at her like she regrets what she is about to say:
"For some time actually yes. I was ecstatic. But to be honest looking back I have to admit that was mostly due to Lily and Grace. We were very preoccupied with their well being like most parents of young children but because we had not really had a real relationship before that time I mistook the dedication that we had towards being good mothers to them for being compatible partners. But eventually once the girls became a little more self sufficient it started to dawn on me that our relationship was not what I thought it was. We worked like well oiled machine when it came to parenting: their lunches were always neatly packed, we showed up for every parent-teacher conference and school event. But between the two of us without the kids there was simply this empty void. We were not intimate and hadn't really been for years except for a few times we had attempted it and it just somehow seemed off…" Emily suddenly pauses. "Sorry. This might the wine talking. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
"In wine there is truth they say," she says, thinking back to her old, awkward high school self who would have been made so uncomfortable by this conversation. But she has not been that person for a very long time. "Carry on, if you want, of course."
"Alright then," Emily takes a deep breath. "We didn't go on dates either. I would look at my friend's relationships where there seemed to be so much passion and I would wrack my brain finding excuses. I told myself it was because we became parents at such a young age or that we could not show public affection everywhere because there were still people that had a problem with that. But eventually I admitted to myself that I was starved for affection and I realized that she was too. We had started getting into fights at nights when the girls were asleep over random things that weren't about anything important. We were just in a situation together where we both felt stuck and weren't getting what we wanted but still felt indebted to hang onto. We tried marriage counseling for some time and that was at least successful in one sense: we admitted what we were really feeling and started working towards an amicable separation. So we ended up agreeing on a lot of things: we still wanted to remain friends, we would always put to welfare of our girls first and foremost and we would share custody."
"That seems like a very mature thing to do."
"Well, it was all fine and well on paper. However once I got out on my own I found out that living by those words were way harder to live by. Maybe it was because I had been so used to being stuck in a loveless marriage where I was only appreciated for my usefulness and I should have known better but I was just so starving for affection and that made me do some very regrettable things."
"Things such as…?"
"After I had been separated for a little more than a year I went out with Hanna when she was visiting. She was visiting for the weekend and had demanded that I'd use my week away from the girls get out of my shell so we decided to grab a couple of drinks at the Radley's. It was where I met Wendy. At first she seemed to represent everything that my failed marriage had lacked. There was definite attraction and passion. We moved pretty quickly from there and we were living together at the end of the month. Now, before you tell me, I know it was ill advised. In retrospect I know that I threw myself into a relationship with someone I knew nothing about because I had just been so incredibly affection starved during my marriage with Alison. But once the dust of the move had settled, things really started going downhill. There had been some signs before but I had blissfully chosen to ignore them. She was jealous, she was paranoid and eventually she became violent. The most shameful part is not the fact that I endured it once. The most shameful part is that I endured it for well over two years before I decided that enough was enough. I kicked her out with the help of a couple of friends. Luckily I had Spencer on my side. She flew in from Washington, bringing the big guns and threatened Wendy with a lawsuit unless she's leave my property immediately. Which she did. And after that I had to start again from the ashes. I felt horrible for having let it go on for that long and I feared that Grace and Lily had witnessed some of it and that it had formed their ideals of how a relationship was suppose to be like. Sometimes I even blame myself for what happened to Grace because of this. Luckily, Alison met a tax attorney and and has had a very healthy relationship with him for more than a decade now. So I guess I wasn't the perfect example that my kids needed. But someone was. Someone who's life with me didn't work out out. I have to be honest with you Paige. I was happy for Alison and I am happy to see that my girls have turned out as well as they have but I still can't avoid the idea that I myself have been a complete failure in this department."
Emily takes a moment to dry the wet patches that have been forming at the corners of her eyes. She takes a deep breath and composes herself:
"So, enough about me now. Please tell me that you have some exciting adventures to tell me about your own adventures in this departments. I have exposed myself already. So don't feel afraid to overshare. Have you had some steady relationships? A marriage perhaps? A great love?"
She takes a deep breathe in, knowing that this is the tipping point. She can either let the raven haired woman in now or shut the doors forever. So she lets the breath out and then inhales to speak:
"Come on. Let me show you something."
The two women walk towards her bedroom. On their way they pass photos of her with Parker and Prue, their achievements, them with her parents, everything that a person would like to show of one's life. She doesn't show any of those to Emily, instead she brings her to her most personal space. She pulls up a photo album from the chest of drawers next to her bed. She clears her throat:
"Now before I show you this I have to come clear. There were some other ones. I had flings. I dated. For years. But nothing seemed to stick. And during all of this I always used to describe everything that happened to Amelie. We met when I started working at the university. I was new, she was new and we had an almost instant friendship. We'd meet on Friday nights, have drinks, play pool, dish about the office gossip and complain about how our various romantic endeavours slipped into the sand. There were of course other friends, we both had people that we knew from college, other people that worked with us and others, but I still feel that me and Amelie had something special. We even found our endearing friendship to be so corny at times that we started making it extra sappy just for the giggles. We'd celebrate "Galentine's day" and every year on the date that we met we'd both call in sick and do something special for the day."
While talking, she has opened up the photo album and leafed through some pages. Emily looks over the photos which depicted two women in various environments: holding up drinks in a buzzed up nightclub, riding their bikes in the countryside, laughing while blowing the candles of a cake. She continues:
"Then came the diagnosis. Pancreatic cancer. She had usually had pretty bad periodic cramps and she was training regularly so she had some sore muscles from that and because of that she might have missed the symptoms. Initially Amelie was hopeful. She decided to fight it. And I tried to be there for her every step of the way. I'd drive her to chemo, stay with her. We'd watch weird daytime television on mute and read the subtitles in dramatic voices and have theatrical readings of the gossip magazines that were kept around the hospital. But eventually it became clear that this was a losing battle. There was no point in further chemos. I still remember the moment that she told me. We were sitting in her kitchen, her hair had just started growing out again and the sun was shining through the window and I noticed how it reflected on her cropped hair. And she said "You know what babe. Fuck it. Just fuck it. This is it. And I have been doing this for a while. Now I feel like doing something different." So we decided that was it. She quit her job and I had plenty of vacation days because of the fact that I'm a workaholic and I had a non existent love life. That was the start of our road trip. We spent three months crossing all of the US by car and we decided at the end to celebrate our achievement that we'd have a celebratory week in Hawaii. When we had spent a couple of days catching the waves the ended up by going to this tiki restaurant and we started lamenting the fact that neither of us had ever gotten married. It was after that conversation and with the aid of a couple of cocktails that we decided that since this was our ultimate crazy adventure we should just go ahead and get married. We hired a minister, paid him for overtime of course and got married right there on the beach."
She flipped over to photos of her and Amelie in the scene that she just described. Emily leans in towards her:
"And after that?"
"We went back to our cabin on the beach and I wasn't expecting anything to happen. But then she kissed me. And everything just felt so right you know? So I just sort of let it happen. Afterwards we didn't talk about it too much. We just enjoyed the time that we had, looking like any other happy newlywed. I got her a ring, admittedly from a souvenir shop. We went dining, declared ourselves newlyweds and got a champagne on the house and we swam in the ocean and watched the sun come up. After that real life caught up with us. We flew back home. Amelie's cancer finally caught up to her and I had to bring her to a hospice where she spent her last couple of days. I was with her there… until the very end."
"That's beautiful Paige," Emily says after a lengthy silence. "I'm so happy that you got to have that experience with a person that was obviously so very special to you."
"Thank you Em," she says, wiping a tear that she hadn't noticed rolling down her cheek. "You want to know something weird?"
"I'd love to hear something weird."
"During all the time that we spent together, me and Amelie we never really discussed how we felt. Not during the time that we were friends and not even after our friendship developed into… something else. But I think in some way I did love her. And I do think that she loved me back."
"I'm sure she did," Emily says reassuringly.
She closes the photo album and puts it away:
"Anyway. Sorry about the sob story."
"Don't be. It was lovely. But you haven't told me what happened after that."
"Well, I got back to my life. And shortly after that I encountered Prue and I've already told you that story. I just threw myself head first into that and I haven't looked back since."
"It sounds like you've had quite the life Paige."
"Not the life I expected. That's for sure."
"Life rarely turns out to be what we expected. Take it from the expert."
She lets out a small chuckle and dips her head slightly and immediately scolds herself silently for her nervous tick. Once she pulls her head back up she notices that the other woman's hand is closing in on her jaw. They both hesitate for a moment before Emily pulls in for a kiss. It is soft and sweet, slow and gentle. She pulls back:
"Can I just ask you one thing?"
"Anything Paige."
"Don't do this unless you mean it."
"I do. I mean it now. I think I've meant it for a long time. Maybe even from the time that you left in Rosewood all those years ago."
"That time when I told you that I would not walk away from you again?"
"Yes. So don't walk away now. Please."
"I won't."
Ever so slowly she feels Emily moving towards her face, feeling like lifetimes pass in the anticipation for the moment when their lips finally touch. If this was a sappy romance novels then it would have been like no time had passed. But this was reality and not a five dollar discount novel that you picked up at the supermarket. So instead they awkwardly bump their noses before getting the positioning of their heads correct. Once they have smooched for while Emily gently pushes her back and they settle in a leaned down position with the raven haired woman on top of her. Their clothes don't become magically lost along the way, they try to work out how to get them off while keeping their lips tightly sealed together. They sometimes have to stop, assist one another and laugh wholeheartedly when things get stuck along the way. As she runs her hands over the other woman she notices that some things have changed; there are wrinkles in places where there weren't, a vibrant tattoo that she has never seen before and there is a large scar draped over her right shoulder that is usually covered by the strap of her shirt, undoubtedly from the operation she mentioned earlier. Her touches are also different, undoubtedly from the years of experience that have happened since the last time that you were together. When she was younger herself the knowledge that Emily had been with other people would have made her uncomfortable, furious even. But just like the woman that is gently caressing her face, she has also changed and matured. They are not the same people that they used to be. Life has happened to them along the way. And that is completely and utterly okay. Because what lies ahead of them is the only thing that matters now.
XI
She wakes up in what feels like the middle of the night, feeling completely dried up. She untangles herself from the embrace of the other woman, pulls on some boxers and a shirt and heads into the kitchen. Once there she pours herself a tall glass of water, gulping it down so quickly that a small part pours down the front of her shirt. She curses and grips a large serving of the paper towel and reminds herself that this is the reason why she doesn't drink red wine in the late hours anymore. She is startled when she hears ruckus from the front door and is met with a sweaty pair of young women storming into the foyer. They spend a moment awkwardly eyeing each other before Prue speaks up:
"I didn't expect you to be up this early mom."
"Early? I thought you guys had gone back out after I went out. What time is it?"
"It's 7 am," Grace responds. "We just finished our jog."
"Well. That explains the attire," she says. "I was wondering if this was all the rage in clubbing fashion these days."
"This will never become 'the thing'. And nobody uses all the rage anymore mom," Prue says and the girls glance at each other, snickering.
Grace seems a little awkward from having giggled at a jab aimed at her host:
"I'm going to take a shower. See you in a bit."
Once the other girl is out of earshot and they have heard the shower turned on, Prue approaches her giving a side glance to her bed room where snores are emerging from:
"Mum, is there anything you want to tell me?"
It seems like the roles have been reversed, with Prue looking at her in a maternal way while she squirms like a teenager who has just been caught. She scrambles for the right words:
"I'm not really sure. I'm sorry if this… series of events has made you uncomfortable."
"That's not it. I just don't want to see you get hurt mom. I know that when you adopted me and Parker you really put your own life on hold. So if this is what you want then I am behind it every step of the way. I just… I really want to see you happy. So I have to ask, does she make you happy?"
"She does," she responds, a smile sneaking across her face. "She really does sweetheart."
"In that case I am happy. I'm happy for you mom. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go stretch my calves before I cramp up."
"You just wait until you get to my age. At that point you are just thankful for the parts that are not cramping."
XII
She lets down the box in the hallway, letting out a large puff. She looks behind her seeing Prue manhandling three whole boxes, stacked so high that her head isn't visible. She puts them on top of the boxes that she has just finished dropping on the floor.
"Alright, so I think this is all."
"You know you could have made two trips, I was afraid you were going to injure yourself."
"Weren't you the one that taught me that there was no such thing as two trips from the car with the groceries? You've gotten soft with your old age. Where is Parker?"
"He's in the living room, meticulously organizing the ornaments in the bookshelf."
"He's not going to look at them. He's my brother and I love him but I swear, sometimes he just drives me up the wall. The place looks great mom. It looks exactly what you said you were hoping for in sizing down, all though I wouldn't have expected it to be in a different postal code."
"Well, Aria was able to get me that interview with the Hollis athletic department. It has more responsibility than the position that I had back in Iowa but then again it also comes with a reasonable salary bump."
"Not to mention that I won't have you breathing over my shoulder at work anymore," Prue jokes. "Sorry. Changes make me ironic. I am going to miss working with you mom."
They are interrupted by the doorbell and turn to see Grace and Lily standing at the door, cradling a large bouquet of flowers.
"Hi," Grace says, rushing in to hug the two women. "Sorry we're late. We just felt like getting you a little moving in present."
"It's lovely," she says, accepting the flowers. "I'm just going to get these in some water. Please make yourselves at home. Prue and Parker can give you the grand tour before we have some cake."
She walks into the kitchen, hearing the chattering of the girls behind her and her daughter yelling for her son to 'get his ass in there to meet the guests''. She steps inside the kitchen where she grabs a vase from the counter before she is interrupted by a soft kiss on her neck. She turns around to find Emily.
"You've brought in all the stuff already?" the raven haired woman asks amazed.
"Yes. Prue really doesn't mess around when it comes to lifting heavy objects. Come here," she grabs the other woman and pulls her in for a kiss. "What's that smell? It's heavenly."
"It's a coconut upside down cake. It'll be ready in a few minutes."
"My favorite."
"I really like this place," Emily says. "You think we'll be happy here?"
"I don't think. I know," she says. "I really do love you."
"I love you too."
Twelve rings of the clock chime behind them while they stare at each other mesmerized.
There will be time. Time to talk about things. To explain. To encounter. Time for what can be and what will be stretches on and on but neither of them notices. Because for now she is just content gazing at the other woman who looks back at her, beaming, on and on and on.