United Colors of Twilight
Title: The Waiting Place
Rating: T
Your pen name: XXXXXX
Characters: Renee and Billy
Summary: Renee Swan is married to a man she loves but who will never make her happy. She finds the strength to leave with the help of a Doctor and a Chief. Pre-Twi.
Disclaimer: Any recognizable elements contained herein belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement against Stephenie Meyer'sTwilight, Dr. Seuss's Oh, the Places You'll Go!, the Great Sioux Nation, or the Quileute Nation is intended.
Story Notes: As far as I'm aware, canon source material has yet to offer an explanation for Renee's presence in Forks, considering Renee and her mother—Bella's Gran—are from Phoenix. I thought I might take a stab at it here. Thanks for reading!
Neither strength nor reason has ever been Renee Higgenbotham's forte. Instead, she dreams, and hopes, and flies, and fantasizes about endless possibilities. Her imagination is boundless.
The bed dips beneath her as she lies next to Isabella, peacefully afternoon-napping in her mother and father's room. Bella makes the soft noises of a sleeping child, her plump little lips twitching. The baby chub clings to her cheeks, wrists, and ankles, and her tiny curls tangle atop her head.
It's a scene a mother should cherish. And instead, Renee cries tears of anger and disappointment.
Renee's imagination used to be boundless. She used to dream, and hope, and fly, and fantasize about all the possibilities. Ever since her mother read her a book by a doctor when she was six, her mantra had been "Oh, the places you'll go!"
When she found out she was pregnant a few weeks after they married (only a 'few weeks' after they met, really), both she and Charlie were ecstatic. They made plans for all the vacations they would take together, for all the adventure they would seek, for how wonderful life would be as a family.
You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
She thought she'd found someone to wander with, another highflier who would soar to high heights.
Until she met Charlie's parents.
His mother is a raven-haired beauty, Irish Catholic down to the wooden beads of her rosary. But she does not remember the toddler whose emergent teeth left the soft grooves in them, nor does she recognize the man he's grown up to be.
His father is a charming, loquacious gentleman who loves to tell Renee stories of Charlie's youth through a TruTone Electrolarynx device. He may have a replacement for his voice box, but he will never have cancer-free lungs again.
When Charlie took her to meet his parents, the two of them were already wed and with child. Sure, they did things a little backwards, but sometimes life worked that way. Renee knew what she knew.
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
You're too smart to go down a not-so-good street.
But slowly, over the last two years and twenty-four days since she met Helen and Geoffrey Swan, Renee has been realizing that Charlie is not a highflier. He loves hearing Renee's dreams, but he has none of his own outside his ailing parents, outside the Olympic Peninsula, or outside Renee.
In that order.
Renee could never be angry or disappointed in Charlie or baby Isabella. She loves them both, to the end of the world. She wants to love them at every end of the world, but she can't as long as she stays in this place.
The Waiting Place… for people just waiting.
At least, that's how she thinks of it. That's what this place has become for her. It was just supposed to be a stop along the way, she thought, and now she's waiting for her train to go again. But it won't go anywhere at all if she stays with Charlie.
She stares at her daughter's peaceful profile, slowly showing signs of waking. Renee knows this is a decision she has to make for them both. The pillow under Renee's head is cold and wet, stained with salt. She wipes her eyes and sits up, waiting for Isabella to finish her wake-up ritual.
Purse the lips, sniffle. Shake the head, twitch the legs and arms, squirm. Exhale, rub the eyes, poke the head up, smile at Mommy. Yawn.
"Mama, eat."
Renee also knows that the decision to stay—unhappy but committed—or be off to Great Places with her daughter isn't one she's strong enough to face alone. She needs help.
One jar of mashed peas, a bath, and a clean set of clothes later, Bella plays with a puffy book on the living room floor while Renee pulls herself together. Once she does, she loads Bella and herself into the Civic and heads toward the center of town.
Mrs. Weber welcomes little Isabella to the group of children spending their Sunday afternoon at the church daycare. Renee came to her desperate, how could she turn her away? They don't see much of the Swans at Sunday services, but the newlyweds are good people who do good things for the town. If that means that once in a while she does Renee or Charlie a favor, well, that was all right by the reverend's wife.
Renee kisses her daughter goodbye, thanks Evelyn Weber, and steers the car West toward the Pacific. The first time she made this drive wasn't that long ago, she remembers, but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. She came to the La Push reservation fresh out of school, accepting a generous offer from a woman she and her mother met at the Pima-Maricopa Red Mountain Eagle Powwow in Phoenix. Sarah Black.
"Come to the Peninsula," she said, whittling a wolf out of a chunk of wood. "Stay with my husband and me for a while. It's not the most exciting life, but there's culture, and history, and nature, and beauty everywhere. Come learn about the Quileute." Renee's imagination crafted the scene immediately, and her plan was set.
And when things start to happen, don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along. You'll start happening too.
Renee pulls the car up to the cozy red house. Sarah's window boxes are depressingly bare—winter's grip has been tight.
She raps a few times on the door, expecting to hear a veritable stampede of feet toward the door—those twin girls are destined to be athletic, the way they run around this house—but Renee doesn't hear anything at all until Billy opens the door. She steps back from the entry.
"Renee!" he greets her, smiling. "Ayásocha xaxíktiya?" Billy asks. He's taught her a few basic Quileute phrases, and though she knows he taught her this one, she can't make that part of her brain function properly. Not with her emotions spinning rapidly out of control.
"Oh! Um, Billy, hi," she says, sniffling and trying to contain herself. Sarah would take one look at her and know that something was wrong; she has been like a big sister to the Arizona expat since the moment they met. "I'm sorry, I'm… I didn't… is Sarah here?"
"No, she took the twins to her mom's house for the day. They'll be back late since Makah is a ways away." He steps out onto the porch and puts his palm on her shoulder. "You okay, sweetheart?"
The sincerity in his question opens the floodgates. Renee falls into Billy's arms, and her face collapses. He doesn't seem to mind that his shirt is the final destination for her tears. His arms wind around her, and he leads her inside the house. The couch bends under their combined weight, and he waits, comforting her as best he knows how while she lets the tears run their course. When her throat finally begins to uncoil, she uses the sleeve of her Henley tee to wipe her cheeks dry. She pats at Billy's shirt perfunctorily, but it has officially been sacrificed to her pain, like the pillowcase was earlier in the day.
"Oh, I ruined it," she says, still patting ineffectually at the salt stain.
"Nothing a good wash won't cure, don't you worry," he reassures her, unbuttoning it. When he's left only in his undershirt, he wraps her back up in his arms. "Ready to tell me what's wrong? Or you want to wait for Sarah?"
His arms are strong and calming, his deep voice soothing. Charlie loves her, she knows, but she'd never call him warm. Sometimes it seems like Charlie wants to be affectionate, to show her how much he cares, but he just can't seem to negotiate his feelings for her. Renee is almost always the one to initiate any physical contact between them. Maybe if they'd taken their time, they'd be better at these things. Less stiff.
Stiff is not a word for Billy or Sarah Black. They welcomed her into their home when she came, when she had nothing to offer them but a genuine thirst for learning and adventure. That unfailing optimism that had always been so characteristic of Renee Higgenbotham.
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!
She had no idea what happened to that optimism.
"I don't feel like myself anymore, Billy."
"Well, I can't say as I blame you, honey. A lot's happened since you came up here, hasn't it?"
"Yeah," she admits, staring down at her own feet.
"It's been wonderful having you up here, though, even if you have spent most of your time in Forks lately." He brushes her hair back from her face and settles back into the couch. "I remember when Sarah came home from that trip. She told me she had a visitor coming, and I just knew.
"She has this habit of picking up strays wherever she goes. The people who are alone, who stick to the fringes, the ones who seem like they need someone to look after them—she takes care of them all. Her sister was sort of a stray, did you know that?"
Renee shakes her head. "How can you be a stray on a reservation like this? Everyone seems like family around here. You know, everyone knows everyone else's business, there's no real anonymity. Or loneliness."
"Oh, no. Just because everyone knows you doesn't mean you can't be lonely, Ree. You should know as much," he says, looking at her meaningfully. And yes, she realizes, she knows exactly how true that is.
"Her name is Janna. I met her a few times, but she moved south before I could get to know her real well. Sarah tells me stories about her, though. She was always just a little restless up at Makah. Never felt like she fit into that environment, even though their parents never understood why. It's usually the ones like her that are lost to alcohol, if they can't find a way off the reservation. The lonely ones. Sarah didn't want that to happen to her sister, so she went to Janna one day and handed her a duffle bag and an open bus ticket.
"Sarah gave her permission to go. She told her to fly away, to find a place where she wouldn't be lonely anymore, and to send word when she found her place.
"And so Sarah went to Phoenix when she got the letter."
"I didn't get a chance to meet her at the Powwow. Is Janna happy? In Phoenix?"
Billy smiles, pulling her hand into his. "She is," he says. He sighs, his breath heavy with gravity. "You're not happy."
Renee just shakes her head. She can't even meet his gaze. She's not happy, not at all. Knowing that if she chooses to stay, she won't ever see great places, or soar, is enough to ruin what she might love about this place.
It's enough to rob her of the joy of raising her daughter. One of the most rewarding, prickly adventures she's ever embarked on, and she can't take pleasure in it.
She's too busy Waiting.
And when you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.
"What happened, sweetie?" Billy asks.
"Nothing," she responds with a shrug. "Nothing ever happens."
"You were happy at one point, weren't you?"
"I was," she begins. "I was happy in Phoenix, but my parents always knew I'd want to explore before I settled. They encouraged it. I hadn't ever really been great at the things I tried, but I wanted to try them all just to see. They knew I needed to find my niche on my own. So I came here."
"And when you got here? You were happy then, too, I remember." Billy pulls Renee to him, and she rests her head against his shoulder.
She nods slowly. "I was so excited to be here, to finally feel like I was starting my life. Doing something wonderful and daring. And Charlie—" her voice catches on his name. She swallows against the lump building in her throat. "Charlie was a big part of that," she whispers.
"Do you still love him?"
"Yeah, I still love him. I just… We made all these plans together. We were going to travel, see the world. We were supposed to climb Mount Everest and learn to bake Napoleons in Paris and dance to Indian music in Agra and learn to sail in New England and…
"Charlie and I are never going to do any of those things, are we, Billy?"
Billy sighs again. "No, sweetie, you're not. Charlie may be a dreamer, but he's content to dream. You'll never be happy if you aren't seeing those dreams come true."
"I want it for Bella, too. It's not just about me anymore. I want her dreams to come true, too. That's not going to happen if we stay here, will it?" Renee asks.
"That depends on what her dreams are. In the meanwhile, you have to do what you think is best for you, Ree."
"I just don't know what to do. How can I know what's best for us? I feel like I've been teetering on this precipice for weeks. Stay or go? Tough it out or leave?" Renee fiddles with her fingers, her uncertainty clear in her body language.
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
For a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
"I feel like I'm 21 years old with my whole life behind me!" she cries into Billy's neck. "And the worst part is, Charlie doesn't even notice. He's so wrapped up in work and medical bills that he doesn't see how unhappy I am."
"I would say you are completely wrong on that count, Renee."
She lifts her head from his shoulder and meets his eyes. She blinks, confused. "Wh-what does that mean?"
"Charlie notices a lot more than you give him credit for. Like how you took his name off your bank account? And you packed up all the baby's winter clothes even though it's not yet February? He knows, Renee."
"Well, then, what is he doing?"
"What is he supposed to do? You said it yourself, honey. He's buried at work because of the promotion, his parents' health isn't getting any better, and the bills are just stacking up. And you want him to do what, drop every other commitment so he can cure your wanderlust?"
"Sometimes life just… gets in the way, right? I mean, just because it's like this now doesn't mean—" Renee pleads.
Billy shakes his head. "Charlie is happy in this place, Renee. With the people here, the pace of life. He's the one with a tribe mentality. He's happy with small-town folks and people knowing his business and where the most exciting thing happening on a Saturday is waiting for the fish to bite.
"Can I share a story with you, Renee?"
"A Quileute story?" she asks hopefully.
"No, it's not one of ours. It's one I've heard many tribes' versions of, though, over the years. It's about a girl," he says, his voice falling into a gentle rhythm. Renee has only been privy to this voice a few times, and it makes her shiver when she hears it—the voice of a Chief. She listens with reverent ears.
"The only daughter to an older couple, the young girl was beautiful and kind, and the men of her tribe paid her much attention. Although they all offered her touching stories of regard and affection, they could not lure her from her single life.
"One day, the maiden fell ill. As more and more of her tribesmen attempted to woo her, the girl's sickness grew worse. None of the medicine men, the wise women, or the shamans could cure her, and she succumbed to the illness. The tribe mourned her death, even as they lay her to rest under a yew tree beyond their camp. Her parents were inconsolable; they left behind all their worldly belongings and gave themselves over to grief.
"'We have lost the light of our lives,' they said. Tales of the girl's life and death spread far and wide, for she was adored.
"Two years had passed since the death of the maiden, when a hunter came upon a stream about half a mile from the girl's grave. A spring burst forth from the side of a bank, feeding the growth of sweet green grass along the border. The hunter made camp nearby. At dusk, his dogs began growling and barking. When the hunter went to see what was there, he saw the figure of a woman, coming from the direction of the girl's grave.
"She was covered in robes, and would not speak, but she ate when he offered her food. She neither made a sound nor breathed, but she bowed her head twice when he asked, 'Are you the woman whose grave lies under the yew?' The figure then walked away.
"For the next three nights, she came again to his camp. He offered her food and water, and on the third night, he noticed that she was breathing. On the fourth night she came again, and he saw the skin on her exposed hand, black and pulled taut against her knuckles. He offered her medicine; he rubbed it into her skin when she assented. She came again on the fifth night, the skin of her hands healed. The hunter made more of the medicine.
"'If you let me rub your face with the medicine, it will put new life into your flesh.' And he rubbed it into her skin again, and all her skin was healed. When she came to his camp the next night, she was natural as ever she was in life. The hunter fetched the old couple—her parents—to see her alive again. They were ecstatic, and they covered her with kisses, and begged her to return with them to the village.
"But she refused. She would stay with the hunter who brought her back to life."
Renee hardly notices the tears streaming down her face. The tracks they make on her cheeks are well worn, after this day. "I need to find what brings me back to life."
Billy strokes her hair affectionately. "Yes. I think you do." His voice has switched back to the soft tones of her friend again, and she kind of misses the authority in the Chief's voice. The voice that seems to know all the answers to life's important questions, told through oral histories.
Renee and Billy stand up, and she pulls him to her fiercely. "Send us word when you find your place?" he asks softly.
She nods her assent and walks back to the front door. "Thank you, Billy. Tell Sarah I love her, too?" It's Billy's turn to nod now, even as he watches her load herself back into her car.
Renee winds her way back to Forks, her decision made. She knows it's right, and that gives her mind time enough to calm down before she reaches the Church. Bella coos and claps when she sees her Mama, and Renee wastes no time before collecting her baby girl in her arms.
This is the right decision for them. Bella and Renee will be off to Great Places.
"Mama, hi!" Bella exclaims, and Renee can't wait to start their life together.
She tugs playfully on the end of one of her daughter's chestnut curls. "It's opener there in the wide open air."
End Notes:
Billy's story is an edited version of a Sioux story called "The Resuscitation of the Only Daughter."
Phrases in italics are taken from Oh, the Places You'll Go! by the incomparable Dr. Seuss.
Thank you to my lovely betas, and thank you for reading!