She'd only flown twice as a child, both times with her grandmother by her side, easing her fear of flying by telling her to imagine sleeping on the clouds. As an adult, Piper occasionally thought about sleeping on clouds, though her rational mind told her that was an impossibility since clouds are made up of tiny water droplets. But her first night in a bed that wasn't a prison-issued matress, punctured by worn-out springs, was exactly what she'd imagined sleeping on clouds would be like.
Her father had picked her up from Litchfield at 1 p.m., which was an hour and a half later than scheduled because of delayed paperwork. She was thankful that her mother hadn't come along for the ride—that long of a delay might have encouraged her to leave without her daughter, explaining to the powers that be that she would have to return the next day when the paperwork was settled. Besides, Mrs. Chapman would think, what was one more day in prison?
Bill Chapman gave his daughter a quick hug and a peck on the forehead before ushering her to a shiny, new Buick parked in the first stall. "It's great to see you," he said, opening the car door for her. "Your mom wanted to come, but she has a roast in the oven."
Piper refrained from rolling her eyes at the thought of her mom coming up with such an excuse, and her father falling for it. Instead, she settled for a taut smile, hoping it was enough to convince her father that she was fine with her own mom not retrieving her after 22 months of incarceration.
"You must be ready for a home cooked meal." He started the engine, and then reset the mileage tracker.
Food was the last thing on Piper's mind, though when her father mentioned it, she figured it would be nice to eat something not past its pull-date or tinged with metalic-looking edges. She settled for, "Can't wait," though her mother's cooking was not something she dreamed about in prison. If she had it her way, they'd grab a slice of Frank Pepe's pizza and a large Coke and keep driving until they reached her grandmother's house. Piper knew that her family had sold the old house and made a handsome profit, but that was the only place that had felt like home her entire life.
"So, what are you most looking forward to now that you're a free woman?" Bill tried.
"Getting my own place," was what she wanted to say; instead, she settled for, "Sleeping in a real bed."
Her father switched the windshield wipers on as it began to drizzle. "We've got you set up in the basement. We kept your bed, but we converted your old room into an office."
"An office?" Piper whipped her head around. "Who needs an office?"
"It's more of a computer room," he replied, eyes trained on the road. "Your mom is into all sorts of home decorating online applications or whatever those things are."
Piper suppressed a sigh and folded her arms tightly against her chest. Her father went on about the internet and social media for what Piper assumed was another 15 minutes, but she wasn't listening. Her mind drifted to the past rather than the future.
When Alex was 'safely' back at Litchfield after violating her parole, it took weeks before she'd even looked at Piper, much less talk to her former lover. It's not that Piper didn't care or didn't want Alex to forgive her for getting her thrown back into that shit hole; rather, Piper lived with the fact that Alex was safe—or at least safer than she was at her apartment in Queens. The blonde reminded herself daily that Alex's safety trumped her forgiveness.
During the fourth week of Alex's return to Litchfield, the two women found themselves alone in the laundry room. Piper refused to avoid Alex; if Alex didn't want to see her, she could walk away.
Piper surveyed the area, realizing they were alone, and dropped her laundry bag onto the table in front of her ex-lover. "It's been four weeks, Alex. Are you going for a record to see how long you can go without acknowledging my presence?"
As if baited like a worm on a hook, Alex replied, "I didn't even notice you."
"Will you please just look at me?" Piper stepped forward, but the wide table between them might as well have been a brick wall.
"Why?" Alex continued folding uniforms.
"I'm not invisible, you know." Piper announced. "You can't make me go away just by wishing it."
"Can I make you go away by asking, then?" The dark haired woman huffed, eyes trained on a piece of lent stuck on the sleeve of a gray sweatshirt.
"No. No, you can't." She crossed her arms defiantly. "This is so fucked up. Just talk to me."
"I am talking to you, moron." She swung around and opened the dryer to retrieve more clothes.
"Fine, if that's the way you're going to be…" Piper proceeded, "I'm the one who got you thrown back in here. I know you know that; I'm saying it out loud. You can be angry or frustrated or sad or all of the above. I don't really care. You're safer in here than you were on the outside, and I wouldn't change what I did because of that."
"Thanks for telling me how I can feel." Alex let out an incredulous laugh. "And fuck you for doing that."
Finally, Piper thought: a reaction. "Fuck you for leaving me hanging in Chicago!"
"We've been over this, Piper," Alex whined. "You told me you were going to tell the truth. How was I supposed to know you'd change your tune and lie under oath? Such an unlikely thing for you to do."
The blonde inhaled sharply and let the breath come out slowly, calming her. "You're right, we have been over this and there's no point in bringing it up again. One of us always seems to do the wrong thing at the right time." She toyed with the tag around the neck of her laundry bag. "I am sorry that I got you thrown back in prison, but I didn't know what else to do."
"I had a plan, Piper." Alex finally looked at her ex. "I was going to leave the next day for the Virgin Islands," she said louder than she probably intended. "I was 12 hours away from being done with this crap, and you went and fucked it all up!"
Their eyes met for a moment, both filled with hurt, anger and regret. Piper knew there was no quick-fix solution—there never was for them. As much as it felt like Alex was inevitible, it often felt like the world conspired to keep them apart. At every turn, one of them made the wrong choice—from Alex asking Piper to make a quick drug run to Istanbul to Piper leaving when Alex's mother died—they both acted in their own best interest until the trial in Chicago, when they finally did something for the sake of the other. For once, Piper had thought, I'm going to follow my heart and do the right thing. I'm going to lie for this person I love. Turns out, Alex was thinking along the same lines. It backfired like a slingshot shooting a pebble in the wrong direction.
It seemed like it was only a matter of time before one of them fucked it up again.
"Maybe I did." Piper shrugged. "But you're safe, and I don't regret that."
"And you're not alone in here, right, Piper? Isn't that what you were really after?" The brunette put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. "Now that your fiancé is fucking your best friend, you don't have anyone, so you thought you'd try to coax me back into your web." Alex shook her head. "No fucking thank you."
"Enough already, kids!" Nicky shrieked upon entering the room, "As much as you two think you're in your own little world, as fucked up as it is, there are like 200 women and 10 guards right outside that door who could hear every word you say if they stepped a little closer."
Chapman wondered if Nicky was perceptive enough to see the fire in Alex's eyes and Piper's sagging shoulders.
"Don't worry," Alex said, picking up a pair of khaki pants and shaking the legs. "We're done here."
"I'd like to believe that; I really would." Nicky sauntered closer to the folding table, eyes darting between the two women. "Look, you're not kidding anyone but yourselves. So if I were you, I'd find time in your 'busy' schedules to sit down and talk about who fucked who over this time around, and then get the fuck over it." She dropped her laundry bag onto the table as if she were dropping the mic after a solo performance at a club.
They arrived at the Chapman home with some amount of fanfare. Her dad honked the horn three times and Cal appeared from behind the big tree in the front lawn with a poster in his hands. Neri was in the tree with a roll of string and a pair of scissors.
Seeing her brother was the first thing that made Piper genuinely smile. She rolled down the window and yelled his name.
"Hey, big sis, or should I say 'big house' sis?"
As soon as the car was parked, Piper leapt out and threw her arms around Cal, who let the 'welcome home' banner fall to the ground.
"What's this?"
"Neri and I made it for you," he said, bending to retrieve the wrinkled poster board, "But we couldn't figure out how to hang it."
"A little help over here," Neri said from her perch on the first branch. "Hi, Piper. Welcome home!"
"Hi, Neri." Piper waved. "Thanks."
She only had one small, plastic bag with her items in it, so she rejected Cal's offer to "help with her shit," and proceeded to the front door, as ready as she'd ever be to face her mother.
Piper had to admit that the house smelled good—like properly cooked meat and possibly Brussels sprouts—but it looked nothing like the way she'd remembered it. Over the back of the sofa, a plaid blanket replaced the afghan that her grandmother had knitted for Christmas in the 80s; her father's worn out recliner, perpetually stuck in the recline position, was replaced by a sturdy leather armchair; and the portrait of their family that her mother had commissioned when the kids were younger no longer hung above the fireplace; rather, a gold-trimmed mirror took its place, reflecting the multitude of fake candles on the mantle.
Carol Chapman appeard from the kitchen, wearing a tea length floral dress with a red apron over it, doing her best imitation of a 1950s housewife, complete with a string of pearls. Her heels clicked on the pine floors as she approached her daughter. "Piper, welcome home." She hugged the younger Chapman with a pat on the back, and then quickly released her. "Your father probably told you where you'll be staying. Why don't you go downstairs and put your things away? Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. We're all tired after such a long day."
It was as if Carol Chapman had no idea what her daughter had been through for two years.
Piper glanced at the plastic bag in her hands, then back up at her mom. "Did you keep any of my old clothes?"
"We gave most of your stuff to charity when you left after college," Mrs. Chapman stated, walking back into the kitchen. "Cal, see if you can help Piper find that box we saved."
They ventured into the basement, which was dark and damp, but Piper spotted her old double bed at the far end of the room, and kept walking until she literally fell onto the soft surface.
"You ok?" Neri asked, trailing down the narrow steps behind her husband.
"My bed," the blonde muffled, her mouth fully pressed into a pillow. "It's nice to have my bed."
Piper had never gotten accustomed to her thin, wiry prison bed. Even when she returned from the SHU, whose beds were slightly worse for the wear, her cell bed was just as uncomfortable as it was when she first arrived at Litchfield. She didn't know which was worse—the mattress or the blanket that felt like a thousand Brillo pads sewn together. If she slept on her back, on top of the covers, she could usually sleep through the night.
"Hey, Chapman," Nicky announced, entering her cell and plopping down on the edge of the blonde's bed. "Were your ears ringing a few minutes ago?"
She lowered her Didion and regarded the intruder. "Should they have been?"
"Your girl almost got into it with a bunch of wild, young things." She tucked one leg under the other. "Defending your honor and shit. Like a heroine in one of your boring ass novels."
"I'm sorry." Piper creased her brow. "Who did what?"
"Alex," Nicky said like it was the most obvious guess in the world. "Those trashy inmates from the ghetto were role playing in the bathroom this morning, and one of them was pretending to be you while the other one simulated sex from behind." Nicky stuck her arms out to demonstrate. "Alex told them to cut it out, and they gave her some lip, asking if she wanted to 'get in on some Chapman action.' Clearly they didn't know your history, right?" She smiled and shoved her long sleeves past her elbows. "Alex just about lost it; pushed one of them and told her if she wanted to keep her teeth she'd shut the fuck up and never even think about you again."
Piper didn't realize she'd grabbed a fistful of blanket and her knuckles were turning white. She looked forward, right through Nicky.
"Hello, Chapman?" Nicky waved a hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. "Listen, I don't pretend to understand what's going on with you two, I'd need a map and a magnifying glass for that, but Alex doesn't usually fly off the handle. Maybe talk to her or something." She stood and walked toward the cell entrance. "If you don't, somebody's gonna get hurt."
Piper sat in her bed, shocked that Alex would defend her for one, and resort to physical violence for another. She figured it wasn't jealousy—Alex was not the envious type. She likely did it out of protection, which made Piper consider her own reasons for sending Alex back to prison: protection.
She darted out of bed, put on her shoes and went in search of her ex-lover. She wasn't in her bunk or in the bathroom or the cafeteria. Piper asked a few inmates along the way if they'd seen Alex. By the time she got to Flaca, the young girl pointed towards the game room. "Last time I saw her, she was schooling some putas in Scrabble."
The blonde walked briskly to the game room, remembering intrinsically to keep both feet on the ground. She rounded the corner and spotted Alex at a table with Black Cindy, Taystee and Poussey.
"Alex!" Piper called. "I need to talk to you."
"Hey, College, get your skinny ass over here." Black Cindy motioned for the blonde, and then pointed to the makeshift Scrabble board. "Is invidious a real word, or is this bitch making shit up?"
Piper kept her eyes trained on Alex. "It means resentment or envy."
"I'm busy," Alex stated, drawing six tiles from the Ziploc bag.
"Ya'll wouldn't know nothing about resentment, now, would ya'll?" Taystee countered, looking at her friends with a knowing smile.
"Fine." Piper walked closer to the table. "What happened in the bathroom this morning?"
The dark haired woman's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Nicky told me that you got in a fight," she paused. "About me."
"Damn, this be some drama up in here!" Black Cindy turned her chair around. "It's like a game of Chess! Your move, Lurch."
"What you know about Chess?" Taystee questioned. "It's more like those stories my granny used to watch on Channel 7!"
Poussey chimed in, "Like Days of Our Lives and shit!"
"That the one with that fine piece of black meat, Shemar Moore?" Black Cindy asked.
"No fool," Taystee playfully slapped her arm. "Shemar played Malcolm Winters on Young & the Restless!" She stood and thrusted her hips forward in a sexual motion, and Poussey joined her antics as they all laughed.
Alex huffed as she stood, swinging one leg over the back of the chair. She shoved it towards the table and pulled Piper out of the room by her wrist.
Piper realized this was the first physical contact they'd had in more than a month. It lasted only seconds, but the burn on her skin was tangible. She felt her pulse quicken at the touch, and it slowly returned to normal when Alex released her.
"There were some women in the bathroom talking shit about you, and I asked them to stop." Alex began without preamble. "That's all."
"Nicky said you shoved one of them," Piper challenged.
"Nicky needs to mind her own fucking business." She pushed her glasses higher on her nose.
"Why would you do that?" Piper asked with a hopeful voice.
"I don't know…instinct, I guess." The brunette looked at her feet. "It doesn't mean anything. I'm still not talking to you."
"You did it to protect me." Piper took a tiny step forward, invading Alex's space. "Don't fucking deny it, Alex. That's why you did it."
Alex let her back and then her head fall hard against the cinder-block wall. "Why do we fucking do anything, Piper?" She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger under her glasses. "Yes, I did it to protect you. I don't want some Redneck, horny, gay-for-the-stay bitches to rape you while you're sleeping."
Piper winced at the severity of her words. "Jesus, Alex."
"They could, you know," Alex continued, raising her glasses to the top of her head. "They might not be strung out junkies, but they're in here for a reason—they're dangerous."
Piper sighed and looked around, making sure no one else was within earshot. "Then we're even."
"The fuck we are!" The brunette let out a garish laugh. "I'm protecting you from being attacked in prison by threatening some inmates. You fucking got someone to call the federal parole office to get me locked up again. We are NOT even. Not by a longshot." She turned to walk away and got two steps down the corridor before Piper called her name.
"Please don't leave." This time it was Piper grabbing her ex's wrist. She wondered if Alex could see desperation in her eyes. "Meet me tomorrow in the greenhouse right after breakfast."
Alex looked up and shook her head with a cynical smile. "This is so ridiculous."
"Please, Alex." Piper released her wrist.
Alex's right hand immediately covered her left wrist where Piper's hand had been. The act was not lost on Piper.
"Fine." She walked down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.
END CHAPTER ONE
Author's Note: This story is complete; I just haven't divided it into chapters yet. My guess is that it will be somewhere around 10 chapters. It is currently 26,500 words. Feedback would be nice. Thank you in advance.