fidēs (Latin) : [noun] A sense of complete trust, faith, and devotion between two people.
Gail sat in the driver's seat of the car she'd leased just last week, another step she'd finally towards proving to the courts that she was ready and able to take on responsibility of an eight-year-old girl. The first step had been moving out of the cramped apartment. She'd found a nice, two bedroom apartment not too far from the station and right across the street from a quaint little park.
Gail gripped the steering wheel, staring up at Holly's two-story townhouse. It was just past seven o'clock. Holly was inside, waiting with a delicious dinner. Holly.
She never thought she'd have to have this conversation. Holly, I'm trying to become a mother to an eight-year-old girl. How do you even begin that conversation?
But she knew she had to. And soon. It wasn't something she could put off until later. Holly needed to know what she was about to get back into. If she thought Gail was complicated before, she was in for a whole new ballgame this go around.
Gail wasn't sure what to expect. She hadn't made the decision to move forward with the adoption lightly. She'd mulled it over in her head for weeks. Ever since Sophie had explained that, while the current foster home she lived in wasn't horrible, she knew she didn't belong there. She knew it was just temporary. Then she's looked up at her with those big, round eyes swimming with tears and asked Gail why she couldn't just live with her.
The seed had been planted. So she'd started to do a bit of research and the seed had sprouted. Now, several weeks of research, intense though, discussion with her therapist, phone calls, and paperwork later, the process was underway. The look on Sophie's face when the social worker and Gail had explained what Gail was trying to do had been priceless. Gail had had to hold back tears when the girl hugged her and wouldn't let go for several minutes.
She never considered Holly's feelings about the matter because she never thought she'd have to even tell her about it. After the "I'm seeing someone," and the "goodnight, Gail," at the station, Gail figured she'd lost her chance for happiness with the woman. She'd honestly thought that was her saying goodbye for good. And maybe it was at the time. But now Holly wanted to, Gail assumed, try again.
Gail took a deep breath and exited the car, steeling her nerves. Was she about to lose another chance of being with the most wonderful person she'd ever known?
"Here goes nothing'," Gail said under her breath as she raised her hand to knock on the door. Five seconds passed—one… two… three… four… five—and the door swung open, revealing Holly in all her dorky, smiley glory. Gail found herself returning Holly's smile without her brain's permission.
"Hey," Holly greeted with a cherry grin.
"Hey," Gail replied, reserved in her cheerfulness. If Holly noticed her hesitancy, she didn't say anything. She just ushered Gail inside and closed the door. She took Gail's coat and hung it in the closet as Gail sniffed the air. "Stuffed peppers?" she asked, lighting up.
Holly grinned and nodded. "Chicken fajita, to be more specific," she said. "I know they're your favorite. Just came out of the oven."
Gail nodded, mouth already watering. But at the same time, her stomach knotted with anxiety. "Okay, but can we talk before we eat? There's just some things that we really need to discuss and I don't know if I can wait 'til after we eat." She hoped she'd still be welcome to eat those stupid stuffed peppers after Holly heard what she had to say.
"Sure," Holly said, looking worried, but she nodded towards the couch. "Sit. I'll just put the food in the oven to stay warm." While Gail sat awkwardly waiting, Holly turned the oven setting to 'keep warm' and replaced the food, hoping it wouldn't dry out, but also not caring if it did. She knew they needed to talk. Clear the air, as it were. She decided to go ahead and open the bottle of Borolo.
"Here," she said, returning to the living room, a glass of the wine in each hand. She handed one to Gail who took it and sipped. Holly sat and regarded the woman sitting so close, yet still too far. She let Gail gather herself, sensing that she needed another moment to process her feelings. Holly assumed it was because she was still thrown off by how she'd kiss-attacked the blonde the previous day in the observation room of fifteen.
She hadn't meant to just jump Gail like that. She'd intended to start a conversation, ask her to dinner. Then maybe kiss her. But once she'd seen Gail's adorably puzzled reaction to Holly's sudden appearance and couldn't help herself.
Emily, the woman that Holly's friend—not Lisa—had introduced her to and encouraged her to have drinks with, had been nice enough—a little too nice at times, almost to the point of being a doormat. But after Gail's confession in the hallway when Holly returned the thumb, Holly had quickly realized that all Emily was and would ever be is a rebound. And she knew it wasn't fair to Emily or herself to keep the relationship going. And Emily—sweet, doormat Emily—had just smiled, said she'd suspected all along that Holly wasn't over her ex, and left without a fight.
Holly missed Gail's passion.
But the worried, nervous expression currently residing on Gail's face made her anxious.
"So, I know we need to talk about a lot of things," Holly finally started the conversation, the silence finally getting to her. "But I have to ask… Why are you so nervous? I mean, just a few weeks ago, you were asking me out for drinks and pouring your heart out, but now it's like you can barely look at me. Is it… was it because I tried—and failed horribly, mind you—to move on?"
Gail finally looked up at Holly, eyebrows knitted in confusion. "No," she said. "No, it's not that. I mean, it kinda knocked the wind out of me, but it's not your fault. I had no right to think you'd still be pining over me."
"Well, I was still pining, apparently, but okay. If not that, then what?" A sudden thought occurred to Holly and she felt her stomach knot. Must be the same wind that had gotten knocked out of Gail. "Are you, do you have a somebody else now?" Gail had mentioned having plans the previous night. What if she'd had a date?
But Gail gave her an even more bewildered expression. "You were there when I kissed you back today, right?" She shook her head. "No, of course I don't. I really haven't even thought about dating since, well, you know." She shrugged.
Holly wet her lips. "Alright, so you're not seeing anyone, yet I sense hesitance. I'm really sorry if I made you weary about us. I didn't sleep with her, Emily, if that's what's making you nervous. I-I couldn't without feeling like I was cheating on you. Which is insane because we were broken up, but still. That should have been my first clue that I definitely wasn't over you, but denial is a strong state of mind. And I—"
"I've started the adoption process of an eight-year-old girl."
Gail really hadn't planned on just blurting it out like that, but Holly was doing her adorable ramble-y thing again and she either had to kiss her or shock her with words to get her to stop talking. If she'd kissed her, she's sure she wouldn't have been able to stop at just kissing. They'd have ended up in Holly's bed before finishing their conversation. And she knew it wasn't fair to continue with the rebuilding of their relationship with Holly having all the facts.
It worked. Holly was stunned speechless. She blinked at Gail's declaration, sure she'd misheard. "Did you say adoption?"
Gail pursed her lips to one side and nodded. "A lot has happened since we broke up," she said, arms crossing over her torso.
"I guess so," Holly said slowly, still trying to absorb the information. "Okay… okay. Can you just… start from the beginning?"
Gail took a deep breath and sighed. "Alright, sure. Just a couple of days after the fiasco at The Penny, I was on a case at an old apartment building in a rough part of town. There'd been a shooting and an innocent woman was hit by a stray bullet. I found her in the laundry room. She was doing her laundry and got shot. She died later in the hospital." She paused to look at Holly, who nodded for her to continue.
"Anyway, I went back to look for her keys because we couldn't figure out who she was. All she said was 'Sophie' as she lay there bleeding all over me. We thought that was her name Sophie, but it turns out 'Sophie' was her daughter. She came into the laundry room just as I found the keychain. It matched the keychain the girl was holding. Then she asked if knew where her mom was and I realized that she was Sophie and that she was now all alone in the world. Because of some fucking dumb stray bullet."
Gail felt herself tearing up like she had in that laundry room, and she took a moment to collect herself. Holly hadn't moved away, actually she reached out and grabbed Gail's hand, so she took that as a positive sign.
"Something about this case really got to me. I don't know if it was the timing or the fact that I was the one to find both Sophie's mom and then Sophie… Whatever it was, it did a number on me. But I stayed in contact with Sophie, even after she was put into the state's care. She has no other family, so she was placed into a foster home. I've been mentoring her, I guess you could say. And she's so sweet and so innocent and open to the world. She deserves so much more than life has given her. Her foster home is good and safe, but she's not happy there. I can tell. She basically told me. And then one day she asked why she couldn't just stay with me. That's what started it all."
"So, it's not just a spur of the moment decision?" Holly asked.
"Of course not!" Gail snapped, hurt that Holly, of all people, would think that. "I did so much research, weeks and weeks-worth of research. I contacted a family services lawyer to see if I'd even be eligible. I've moved out of the frat house and into my own apartment. I leased a goddamn sedan with top safety ratings."
"Okay," Holly said. "Okay, I believe you. I just had to make sure."
Gail took another deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry. I just already know I'm going to get that 'have you really thought this through?' reaction from almost everyone I know, so I'm already on the defense about it." She returned her gaze to Holly's. "Sophie just really deserves a good life and I know that I can give it to her the way a string of foster homes never will. Most kids her age don't get adopted."
Holly nodded slowly. "This is certainly a new side of you that I've never seen before."
"What do you mean?" Gail asked.
"I've never seen you as the mother-y type," Holly said. "Not that I didn't think you may eventually want kids, and I know you'd make a good mother when the time came. But we never got far enough into our relationship to discuss children and if either of us wanted them."
Gail saw her opportunity to ask. "Do… you? Want kids, I mean."
Holly looked thoughtful for a moment. "I always imagined I'd have a kid or two at some point in my life. I figured it wouldn't be for a while, but… yeah."
"I wasn't ever sure," Gail said. "I mean, I never did with anyone else, but… I don't know. I hadn't really gotten to that part, either." She shrugged. "I never took how you'd feel about this into consideration because after the whole thumb thing, I honestly thought I'd lost my chance and I'd never even see you again except at the random crime scene or lab run."
"Gail, please don't apologize for that," Holly implored. "I'm not upset that you didn't take me into consideration."
"But you are upset?" Gail asked.
Holly shook her head. "No, not upset. Just… it's a lot to take in. A lot to consider. But it doesn't change the fact that all I can think about lately is you and how much I've missed you."
Gail gave a small smile. "Yeah?"
Holly nodded. "Yeah." She smirked. "I didn't actually seek you out yesterday to pounce on you. I had this whole speech planned out."
"Was it all ramble-y so I'd be the one to pounce on you?" Gail asked, returning Holly's smirk.
"No. Well, maybe you would have, but only because you're very impatient sometimes and—"
Gail kissed her. She didn't let it go too far, though, still hyper-aware that they had a lot of discussion ahead of them. "I know you do that on purpose," she said after pulling back.
Holly looked smug, but her expression turned serious. "Gail, you're about to take on a huge responsibility."
"If it goes through, I know," Gail said. "And it'll be months before there's a decision. Home studies, evaluations, references… I've gone over everything with the social services lady. I'm committed to this, Holly. I was committed before you showed up yesterday, and Sophie's already in on it, so I can't back out now. I don't want to."
"I know," Holly said. "I can tell by the way your face lights up when you talk about her that she's important to you. You already think of her like a daughter. And I would never ask you to change your mind. I couldn't. It's a commendable thing you're doing, Gail."
"But?"
"No but. The statement stands as is."
"Okay, fine, it's commendable and I deserve all the awards, but where does that leave us?" Gail finally asked, unable to take the not knowing.
Holly was silent for a moment, then took both of Gail's hands in her own. "If it were up to you, in your idea world, what would happen?"
"Honestly?"
Holly nodded.
"I'd be able to adopt Sophie without a hitch and you and I would get back together. It would be tough at first, I'm sure, to find time to spend together, but eventually we'd figure it out. And eventually you'd meet her and see just what I mean when I say she's so open to the world."
Holly considered Gail's words. "Okay, but this isn't an ideal world. You said it'll take a few months for any decision to be made, right?"
Gail nodded. "At least."
"So, we could make the most of these few months."
Gail bit her bottom lip. "I'm just worried that we'll get used to being able to spend a lot of time together, like we did before, and then once I gain custody of Sophie, that time will drastically decrease. I'm scared it'll rip us apart and if that's going to happen, I'd rather it happen now than when we're head-over-heels again. I don't think I could handle it again."
"Who says I'm not already head-over-heels?" Holly asked. "I didn't say this before because I was afraid of scaring you off, but now I'm afraid of you not giving this a chance because you think I'm not in it for the long haul. But Gail, I love you."
Gail was stunned. "You do?" was all she could think to say.
"Of course I do," Holly responded, as if it were obvious. (When Gail thought back on it later, it was obvious, but she never was good at determining one's true feelings towards her.) "I have since, well, I'm not exactly sure when my feelings changed from massive crush to love, but I know when I admitted it to myself. It was when you let me cut your hair."
"Oh, God," Gail said as she recalled that night. She reached up and fingered her short locks. "I still miss the long hair sometimes, but I don't miss how much easier it is to care for." Then she remembered what had just been said and sat up a bit straighter. "Wait, you still love me after the way I treated you?"
Holly gave a small smile. "Love doesn't have a switch," she said.
"I know," Gail said. "I tried turning it to the 'off' position a billion times over the last several weeks. It didn't work."
Holly knew Gail was skirting around saying the actual words back to her, most likely a defense mechanism. "You can say it back, you know."
Gail swallowed. "No I can't. Because if I say it back, it becomes real and if it becomes real, it has the power to implode at any moment and I'm not sure I could handle that right now."
"And you think not saying the words takes that power away?" Holly asked, amused by Gail's reasoning.
Gail bit her lip and sighed. "I guess not," she said, then groaned as she slumped back against the couch, eyes closing. "Okay, fine, I love you, too. And I admitted it to myself just after I kissed you in the observation room the first time." She opened her eyes and looked directly at Holly. "I'd never been that knocked over by a simple kiss before." Then she smirked. "Until you practically attacked me yesterday."
Holly looked sheepish. "Sorry about that," she murmured.
"I didn't say I minded," Gail pointed out. "It was just unexpected. I probably shouldn't have kissed you back before I told you about Sophie though. But I always find it difficult to think with your tongue in my mouth."
"Always a charmer," Holly teased, then turned serious. "Gail, I don't want to give up on this just because things are about to get difficult."
"Difficult may be an understatement," Gail said.
Holly nodded. "Maybe. Probably. Does that mean you don't think it's worth trying? That we aren't worth it?"
Gail shook her head, almost violently so. "No! No that's not what I meant at all. I want whatever you're willing to offer, but I needed you to know what to expect. Which is hard because I don't even know what to expect yet. I don't know how to ask you to be with me when I can't even tell you what's going to happen."
Holly rolled her lips inwards for a moment as she thought carefully how to respond. "Okay." She shifted to sit on the coffee table in front of Gail, her knees bracketing Gail's as she linked their fingers together. "You're right when you say we don't know what the future will bring if we do this, but I do know what it'll bring if we don't. We're both going to look back and regret not trying. At least I will. You?"
Gail nodded, finally beginning to allow herself to believe that this could—would—work. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I would."
"So we take it one day at a time."
Without warning, Gail lunged, hands reaching up to grab Holly's face just milliseconds before their lips connected. Holly let out a surprised moan that quickly turned into one of pleasure as she kissed her back, giving as good as she got.
When they parted, Holly gripped Gail's shoulders to keep her in place and pressed their foreheads together as they fought to catch their breath.
"One day at a time, huh?" Gail said, voice husky.
"One day," Holly agreed.
Gail smiled, actually smiled, and leaned back just far enough to slid Holly's glasses off her face. "So, what does today bring?"
