Distortion
Part Eleven
Christmas is nowhere near as easy to deal with as other holidays. Sure, those all carry their fair share of memories and traditions but Christmas is its own separate beast.
Chloe's father put effort into everything, especially holidays, but Christmas was his absolute favorite. He'd go above and beyond with the decorations and he'd even dress them up in dumb Christmas sweaters for the family photo album. She used to groan and complain about it, drag her feet, silently wish she had a normal family like everyone else. Really, she enjoyed it all just as much as him but admitting that would've been torturous. And now she'll never be able to.
She stretches out on the clubhouse floor on a tattered old blanket and stares up at the ceiling. There is a sizable hole near the center through which snow is falling. It seems like an invasion of her privacy, an unwelcome disturbance. She hastily pushes the growing pile with the toe of her boot before turning to face the wall.
She wonders if she's the only person crazy enough to spend her time in a junkyard rather than interact with her family. She couldn't sit there and pretend that everything wasn't fake and forced. She couldn't look at the tree and not think about her father hoisting her up so she could decorate the top branches. The Christmas they have now is a cheap imitation and David is the cheapest part of all. She wishes that, just once, she could have time with her mom again - without him.
The sound of a car engine forces her to stand. She peeks out of the doorway as if she expects it to be some sort of hired assassin...or David himself sent there to wrangle her back home. Thankfully, it's neither. Frank's R/V is parked haphazardly next to a few rundown cars. She contemplates retreating back inside and leaving him be. After all, he still isn't happy with her about the money and he has to have a reason for trekking out in the snow, alone. He probably doesn't want to be bothered.
Instead of listening to her better judgment, she walks over anyway. She knocks on the door a few times and waits. It doesn't take long for it to creak open and there is Frank, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What do...oh, it's you, Price".
At that, he seems to visibly relax but not enough that he's actually calm. She isn't sure he even knows what calm is.
"Running from the law?"
He rolls his eyes, "I guess you're here to extend your tab, right?"
He doesn't sound as angry as she expects, just tired, "No. I, uh, wanted to see how you were doing".
"Peachy".
"Which is why you're out here in the cold instead of opening gifts around a roaring fire".
"Could say the same to you".
She crosses her arms, "Hey, don't try to deflect".
She expects him to laugh and maybe slam the door in her face but, to her surprise, he stands back to let her inside.
The R/V looks much like always save for a tiny, battery powered Christmas tree. It's sitting on the table along with an artfully wrapped Christmas present. Pompidou is under the table, happily gnawing on what looks like a new chew toy. Frank flops down at one side of the table and, after a moments hesitation, she sits down too.
"So...no family to visit?"
She typically doesn't ask questions about Frank's personal life. He's a pretty closed book and he's made it clear that he keeps his clients on a strictly professional level. Still, part of her has always wondered about him. Here is a guy with seemingly no past that floats through life on his own. She's never seen postcards from friends or family or even photos. He is as private as one person can get.
"What's it to you?", he grumbles but his usual sharp edged tone isn't there.
"Sorry, forget it".
"The only family I've got is sitting right there", he gestures to Pompidou, "And that's all I need".
At least he isn't totally on his own. She absently picks at a hole in her jeans as she muses about what Frank's life was like before all this. He too went to Blackwell Academy though, for what, she's never known. She can't picture him as a bright and cheerful kid or a moody brooding teenager. The Frank she knows is the only one who's ever seemed to exist.
"What about you?", he finally asks, cutting some of the tension, "I know you've got family so what the fuck are you doing out here?"
"Avoiding them", it's easier than telling him she's grieving.
There must be something on her face that gives it away because he nods curtly before he heads over to the fridge. He pulls a TV dinner from the fridge, one of those salisbury steak deals she hasn't had in ages, and pops it in the microwave. Then, he fills a mug with apple cider and a splash of whiskey before he slides it in front of her.
"Merry fuckin' Christmas"
For the first tine in ages, he actually smiles.
"Open it!"
Rachel stifles a laugh as she looks at the crudely wrapped present that Chloe has thrust in her hands. The penguin wrapping paper has been beaten into submission and all of the tape in the world can't hide the wrinkles and tears.
"I'm scared"
Chloe rolls her eyes, "Just open it"
Rachel does just that, having no idea what to expect. What she pulls out of the box is a simple silver charm bracelet. Upon closer inspection, she can see that the charms are planets.
"Chloe, this is beautiful. How much did you spend on this?"
"Don't worry about that. Put it on".
Rachel doesn't like the sound of that but she secures the bracelet on her wrist, right next to the one her mom gifted her ages ago.
"Alright, Price, your turn"
Her gift, by comparison, is expertly wrapped with perfect corner creases and a green ribbon tied around it. Chloe dismantles all her work in a matter of seconds, tearing into her gift with reckless abandon. She opens the box and happily pulls out the three newest additions of her favorite comic series.
"No way! How'd you get these?!"
"I have my ways".
Really, she'd been able to scour the comic shops in Seattle the day after Christmas and snag a few is the one she's missed the most while she's been away but she's started to form a new bond. Mark was her saving grace throughout the week she was gone. She can't believe that he hasn't told her to stop calling or to leave him alone. Whenever she goes off on a tangent or rants, he always listens with a sympathetic ear. Mark understands her; he respects her. The more they talk, the easier it is for her to see that there's a mutual attraction there. She's nervous about what that means but, for right now, she doesn't worry about it.
"Ten seconds until the ball drop!".
New Years Eve so far has been a mix of cheesy horror movies and enough junk food to give them both stomachaches. She watches the TV as the countdown timer continues, excited for what the next year will bring. She's not dreading the future this time, no, she's excited for it. The crowd on TV shouts 'HAPPY NEW YEAR!' and she has no time to react before Chloe is pulling her into a kiss.