Even in the harshest of winter I feel so warm
Even when the marks climb up the wall, I still feel small
This is my home
This is my home
Where I go when I've got nowhere else to go
-Home by Ingrid Michaelson
She was going to kill Hazel MacDugall, Betty thought as she and Kate sat in the darkened theater. Absolutely, positively kill her dead.
It had been a week and a half since the accident and only three days since Kate returned home from the hospital. Betty wanted to see Kate resting in the comfort of her room, but it seemed Kate had other thoughts in mind. She knew the redhead was still very weak and needed all the rest she could get for her battered body and mind. And yet, after the wide-eyed prompting from Kate, they had spent the day doing various things to keep busy. To Betty this meant they escaped from the endless questions of nosey housemates, away from the never-ending phone calls from reporters asking for interviews, and from where Gladys always seemed to be around, ready to dote on Kate.
She couldn't really blame Kate for wanting to get away, but she still worried that it was too much, too soon. She was still quite pale and the dark circles under her eyes made it easy to see the other girl needed the rest, but when she found Kate attempting to put a dress on that morning and then proceeded to beg her to take her out, away from the confines of her room, Betty gave in. Kate reminded her of a trapped squirrel, panicked and ready to dart for freedom the first chance she got.
So they spent the day shopping and going to the park. In every store they went, Betty made sure Kate found a place to sit while she tried on dress after dress. She hated shopping and despised dress shopping even more, but if modeling dresses for Kate meant she would sit still and rest while offering her opinion on each, then she'd do it every day until dooms day if she had too. The only problem with this plan was that now she had four new dresses and one less pay package.
The park had been less expensive as they sat watching the children play and fed the birds. Eventually, as they sat on that bench, Kate rested her head on her shoulder. She never closed her eyes to fall asleep, but Betty would take it, since the exhausted girl was off her feet, at least.
One thing she had noticed throughout the day was how Kate kept wiping her hands on her dress. It was a simple act of softly rubbing her hands across the fabric of her skirt and to most it would merely look like she was trying to smooth the wrinkles away, but to Betty it looked like something more. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Normally, she wouldn't have even noticed it, if Kate hadn't done it several times and now it was to the point that Betty began to count the times it happened.
Now though, they sat in the darkened old dime theater watching the film Young Mr. Lincoln after Hazel's suggestion. It was an older American film, but it was one that promised storylines free of any wars or the destruction they caused. Betty figured the last thing Kate needed was to watch things blowing up or to be reminded of a death toll from battles lost, so she thought this movie would be a reasonable choice. She even made sure to linger at the popcorn stand in order to avoid any unpleasant newsreels at the beginning of the show. And Kate didn't seem to mind seeing the older picture while, once again, all Betty cared about was the fact that she was sitting and resting.
All was going well until Betty realized that the older movie wasn't so much about the life of some American President, but instead about a trial of two brothers who had been wrongly accused of murder after a brawl. Currently, one brother was preparing save the other at the expense of his own conviction and now Betty felt every muscle in her body seize up as she sat uncomfortably beside Kate. Somehow, even after taking such care to avoid the gamut of unnerving war movies coming out of Hollywood lately, she'd still managed to land them right back inside hostile territory with a film that had an eerily familiar storyline. So now she sat planning just how hard she was going to wallop Hazel the next time she saw her and wondering just how much of an effort it would take to keep from making eye contact with Kate for the rest of the night.
Betty rubbed the back of her neck as Henry Fonda's Lincoln began to pressure the Mother of the brothers to tell the truth over which son actually killed the man. She wondered if Kate felt as uncomfortable as she did about the subject at hand. Since coming home from the hospital, they'd managed to avoid all topics that might lead to awkward feelings of past discretions. Topics such as her own conviction, about heated arguments, and lost friendships. Even the little "marry me" incident at the hospital was off limits. Betty considered it a fluke since Kate had been drunk out of her gourd from painkillers. She figured the other girl had probably been picturing some handsome bloke like Henry Fonda himself when she blurted it out. And Kate didn't seem to remember it, since she hadn't mentioned it, making avoiding the matter a whole lot easier. And the thought of discussing topics like Reggie's death seemed as daunting as swimming across the Atlantic, so she figured it was better this way for now, to ignore the multiple elephants in the room until things got a little easier, until life seemed less daunting and so close to the end.
However, with the film blaring the painful reality in front of them, it was a little harder to ignore. Yes, Hazel MacDugall's days were numbered in Betty's books, that she was certain of in her mind.
Betty shyly glanced over to Kate to gage the other girl's uncomfortable reaction, but was surprised to find that the other girl wasn't watching the picture at all. She was staring straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of her, lost in her own thoughts. The furrowed brow and haunted expression told Betty she hadn't been paying attention to the film at all, but instead was caught up in some movie that was playing out in her own head.
"You okay?" Betty leaned over and whispered, causing the other girl to jump.
"Oh, yeah," She said, nodding her head a little too eagerly. "Just peachy."
Betty nodded and turned back. She knew the smile she was given was a lie. She watched from the side of her eye as Kate wiped her hands back and forth on her skirt. Six, Betty thought to herself, that would be the sixth time she'd seen her do that since she first noticed the odd little act at lunch.
"I'm going to get some fresh air," Kate turned and whispered to Betty.
"You want me to…"
"Oh, goodness, no," Kate said, placing a hand on her arm. "You stay and enjoy the picture. I'll be right back."
Betty could only nod dumbly as she sat back in her chair and watched Kate stiffly stand and make her way towards the open aisle.
She tapped her fingers on the armrest and wondered if she should follow her. Maybe the other girl needed her space. It was a reasonable thought; after all, it wasn't as if this were a normal night out for the two. It was Kate's first night out since the accident and it was the first night out together as friends again. Since she had returned from her stint in jail and things had turned so sour for them. After sitting there contemplating the argument in her head, she jumped up and made her way towards the exit.
She found Kate standing outside in the cold just as the last bit of glow from the setting sun casted her in a sea of golden amber. As beautiful as the sight was, Betty could see the storm clouds that lay just beneath the haunted expression that was firmly back in place.
"Not exactly the historical piece I was hoping for," Betty joked as she came up behind her.
Kate turned and smiled softly as she watched Betty walk up and pull a cigarette pack out of her clutch.
"I read once that Henry Fonda won awards for that role," Kate said as she watched Betty light her cigarette and began to place the pack back in her bag, before being stopped by Kate's hand to pull one out for herself.
Betty stepped in closer to light the cigarette for her.
"Well, anyone who can blabber on about the American justice system for just short of forever should definitely win some kind of brass for their efforts."
Kate laughed out at Betty's joke, but then dropped her cigarette as she grabbed the side where the ugly stiches and bruises still lay.
"Oh, don't make me laugh," she groaned, biting her lip to stifle the pain.
"You okay?" Betty asked, wincing at the sight and hating herself for causing such pain. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Kate said, shaking her head and placing a hand on Betty's arm. "Boy, am I ever grateful to you. You saved me from another boring day cooped up in that house."
"It has been a nice day, hasn't it?" Betty smiled, placing her hand over Kate's on her arm. She noticed the other girl's hand was ice cold. "Kate, your hands are freezing."
The other girl simply shrugged.
"Here gimme 'em," Betty said, flicking her forgotten cigarette away and reaching over to take both of Kate's hands into her own.
Kate stepped closer as Betty rubbed her hands with her warmer ones. She watched as Betty carefully cupped her hands and brought them up to her lips where she blew a warm breath into them, causing Kate to suck in a shaky gulp of air.
"Old farmers trick," Betty offered at Kate's breathy stare. "We oughta get back home before we both turn into an icicle."
"What about the movie?"
"Eh, I know how that one turns out…" Betty said as she lead them away.
They were now lying in Kate's bed shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the ceiling above them. The boarding house was quiet around them as most girls were out spending their freedom from the factory the best way they knew how. VicMu had been closed for business since the accident and wouldn't reopen again until the destruction of the blast had been cleared away and the building was made new again. Gladys reported that the construction was happening around the clock now, so Betty figured it wouldn't be long before the doors opened back up for the workers. She figured the other girls in the house must have felt the count down as well since most spent their nights putting as much life into them as they could. And yet, here they were in Kate's room putting just as much life into their night, only without even lifting a finger.
"Then what happened?"
"Well, I scared the squirrel up the tree while my brother Thomas waited for it high in the branches."
"And?" Kate asked as if she were holding her breath for the next part.
"And the squirrel won out and Thomas hit every branch on the way down. He broke his collar bone, I caught hell from my Pops, and my brother and I both learned the life lesson that squirrels don't make for easily adopted pets."
"Oh, goodness," Kate smiled, warming Betty's heart at the sight. "I guess not. How awful."
"Hey, I was just glad I didn't lose out on the coin toss and had to be the one waiting in the tree for the squirrel."
"Betty!" Kate scoffed, swatting her arm playfully. "I'm sure you're poor brother wouldn't have appreciated that thought at the time."
"Yeah, well, that's the story of how the great McRae-Squirrel War began."
Kate let a yawn slip out as she tried to blink the sleep away that was drawing in on her.
"Here I am yammering on about old stories," Betty said, sitting up. "I really should be letting you get some rest."
"No, I love hearing your old stories," Kate said, grabbing Betty's arm like she was suddenly worried she was going to leave. "Please, don't go yet. It's still early."
Betty looked at the clock, it was now ten o'clock and she knew other girls would be returning home soon from their newfound free nights. She'd already tried leaving three times before, but was stopped each time. It seemed Kate always thought of one more thing to keep her there. A game of gin rummy, playing records, going over old stories from growing up on the prairies , Kate didn't seem to want the night to end.
Betty was beginning to wonder if it was something more than not wanting the night to end, but without questioning it, she lay back down beside Kate. She watched as Kate carefully turned on her side, the one without the injury, and looked over at her. "How about you? Did you and your brothers have any calamity fun growing up?"
Kate shook her head. "No, not really. Gabriel and Seymour were born much later, so by the time they came around, I was expected to help my mother with them. I'm afraid there wasn't much time for that kind of fun."
Betty turned on her side as well and watched as Kate traced patterns on the bed spread between them. She took her in, her soft hair seemed more lustrous now than it was at the hospital, but the deep lines that extended from her tired eyes troubled Betty.
"Kate, have you been getting much sleep since you returned home?"
Kate looked up at her, surprised at the change in conversation. She considered her words for a moment and then shook her head without saying a word, only allowing her tired eyes to relay the truth to Betty.
"Is it because of nightmares again?"
This time Kate nodded her confirmation.
"About the accident?"
Betty kept her voice in a low whisper, keeping the exchange safely between them. Kate looked down at the bedspread and shook her head no.
"You're father?"
This got another confirmation nod.
"He can't hurt you anymore," Betty tried. She knew it wasn't the best words to offer, but it was the only words she had to give. Kate's safety was the best result that came out of the whole ordeal and it would be one that she would stand by every single time.
"That's the thing, though," Kate said, finally as she focused on the imaginary lines beneath her fingers. "In them, he's not hurting me, it's much worse…"
Betty's brow wrinkled in confusion just before Kate looked up, her eyes blazing with despair.
"…He's hurting you."
Betty's breath caught in her throat at Kate's sincerity.
"Well, he can't hurt me either anymore," Betty said, her voice high pitch from the emotions surging through her. "He can't hurt either one of us anymore."
"I'm not so sure about that," Kate said, softly.
She looked back down at the bedspread as she extended her fingers out between them and rubbed her hand across the soft fabric in the same manner as she had done across her dress numerous times that day. Back and forth with a purpose only Kate knew. This time though, Betty reached out and stopped the motion by gently slipping her hand underneath hers, intertwining their fingers together to hold Kate's hand safely in hers.
Kate looked up and caught Betty's gaze. Their eyes held each other as Betty's grip promised Kate that she wasn't going anywhere and that her father was no match for what was in between them – a simple handhold.
"I may not have any stories of rambunctious adventures growing up, but I do have one fond memory… although, it wasn't when I was younger."
"Let's hear it," Betty said, happy to see that Kate already seemed a bit stronger.
"When I left the first time, when my father came for me last winter… it was the cold that I had forgotten the most about. The angry words and fear and trepidation, they all fell back into place like clockwork, but the bone chilling night air… it took me by surprise. I guess I had forgotten what it was like to fall asleep shivering, to never have warm hands, or to know the painful need to keep moving."
Betty listened with the same rapt attention that Kate had given her for her stories earlier.
"Even with the shotty boiler, the boarding house had already spoiled me with its promise of warm, healthy mornings that didn't start with frosty puffs of air when I woke."
"How'd you keep warm?" Betty asked as her stomach twisted into knots over the image of Kate being so cold and so alone.
"I'd think of you."
Betty's eyebrows raised in surprise as the words warmed her when she hadn't even realized she was cold.
"For my hands, I'd picture placing them in yours as we walked home from the club or in the crook of your elbow as we waited for the street car for work. To keep from shivering, I'd lay in bed and dream of warm late-night conversations, just like the ones tonight."
The corners of Betty's mouth rose as Kate kept her eyes locked onto hers.
"So, you see, you've always kept me warm."
"Well," Betty said, clearing her throat from the emotions rising in it. "It's certainly a better idea than being piled in a bed full of your brothers where close proximity was found to be better than any heater, unfortunately."
"Like this?" Kate asked, scooting over so that she could tuck herself next to Betty, keeping their hands joined between them.
"Mmm hmm," Betty breathed out, reaching over with her free hand and pulling Kate closer to her. "Except, you smell a whole lot better than my brothers."
"Good to know," Kate said, her voice already heavy with the sleep that was fast approaching. Betty felt her own body relax as Kate's breath brushed across her neck, where she lay so close, rhythmically calming her as the warm wisps of air ghosted over her skin.
After a few minutes of relaxed silence, Kate sighed heavily.
"Betty?"
"Hmmm?"
"How come you're always taking care of me?" She asked, sleepily.
"Cause your worth taking care of," Betty whispered over to her, opening one eye to see Kate's soft smile before sleep finally won out.
That night both fell asleep in Kate's small bed, not exactly comfortable, but both perfectly content.
A/N: Kate is totally the squirrel and Betty hit every branch on the way down for her.
Also, check out Young Mr. Lincoln it's a pretty cool little film from 1939.
Finally, thanks so much for all the feedback given, it makes me smile and feel all warm and fuzzy every time my phone alerts me with a new email alert with one.