03.08 - Might Have Been
Things might have been different, they might have been better or not. But all we know in the end is what was, and not what might have been.
This is a tear jerker chapter. At least I think so. It was difficult to write, and very painful for me, but then again, I'm still working through the feelings of loss.
Oh, casspurser? This is the one where you leave the review of "Godammit Chappy" and then come back later. I'll wait.
The phone rang.
A voice spoke.
The world stopped.
Maybe she should have felt that way when her father died, but the reality was that Gail still did not miss her father greatly. The event his death was merely an end to things awkward and a creation of new, more awkward feelings. But the agony that pummeled her just then, hearing the words over the phone, was harsh and unexpected and soul swallowing.
The world had changed.
Her world had changed.
It hadn't stopped though, not like this. The very bedrock of the ground beneath her was gone. Just ... It was gone. And she was shaken to the very core of her being. The world was no longer what it was. Gail was, in that split second, aware of a change in all things. A change in the fundamental structure of the universe.
At first she wondered why they'd called her, and then she knew there was no one else to call. This was the world Gail was build and bred for. Painful deaths were things Pecks could handle.
Gail ran on autopilot. She knew what had to be done next, no matter how much she didn't want to do it. She hung up her phone and stepped into the bullpen. Her bullpen. First was John. He would have to fill in for her. Next was Seabourn, telling him the bare bones and facts. Telling Andy was easier and harder. Andy wouldn't ask. Andy didn't press. She'd not faced this yet, but she knew she would.
Finding Vivian was easy. Andy knew right where she was, having assigned her close by for the last weeks the youngest Peck on the force would wear the uniform of a patrol officer. Not that Vivian knew her own future. That was for later. And it wasn't for today or Gail. It was Andy's duty. Later.
Telling her though, telling Vivian this would not be easy and Gail knew it. Still. She took Vivian aside and Gail explained what had happened. Her kid hadn't had a great year, and this was not about to make it any better. She watched the general smile her daughter wore, tempered and restrained by recent events, fade more.
As so often happened, Vivian surprised her. Her daughter looked shocked for a moment, then saddened and resigned. This was, perhaps, expected for the younger Peck. Maybe it was like how Gail expected the universe to shit on her, so did Vivian. Right away, Vivian offered to drive Gail, consolidating cars. However she felt pain, the younger Peck internalized it first and would express it later. Somewhat like Holly. Gail nodded and they drove in silence.
She wasn't ready to really process it either. She didn't have a choice. The world stopped and changed and felt horrible. She wasn't ready for this. She'd never be ready for this. Of all the ways this could have happened, of all the times, this was going to gut them all.
This death was different.
This death uprooted their souls.
Vivian shoved her hands deep in her pockets as she followed Gail up to Holly's office. "What are you going to tell her?"
"There's a choice?"
"I guess. No. There isn't." The younger woman sighed. "Maybe in how?"
"Huh. How'd she tell you about my father?" Gail had been the one to tell Vivian about her biological grandparents. But Bill, her own father, she'd left up to her wife.
Vivian snorted. "Badly. She picked me up from school and told me Bill was dead and you and Steve were being very Peck about it."
Gail laughed. "God that sounds like her. Remember when she tried to tell you about sex?"
"I try not to." But Vivian smiled a little. "Two women can't get accidentally pregnant."
Rolling her eyes, Gail backhanded Vivian's shoulder. "Ass."
"I'm the ass you made me."
They shared a smile. "She'll know, y'know. As soon as I walk in. She'll know."
Morose, Vivian nodded and was silent as they walked up to Holly's office door. It was open.
"Hey, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Holly grinned ear to ear to see them, putting down her drink and getting up from her desk. "You guys finish early?"
"Holly..." Gail swallowed and Vivian closed the office door. "It's... Brian called."
Holly looked perplexed. "Dad? He's not trying to surprise us again, is he?"
Gail shook her head. "No." She swallowed. God, Gail didn't want to have this conversation. "It's about Lily."
And Holly froze. The woman was so goddamned smart. It was one of the things that Gail loved so much about Holly. That quick, witty, mind. Holly could process Gail's words, her face, Vivian's face, the air around them, all in a heartbeat. And Holly knew. As Gail met her eyes, brown to blue, it was unavoidable. Holly knew exactly why they were there.
That brain was part of why Gail loved her so much. Holly's big brain, her bigger heart, her enormous smile ... The smile tilted down. That beautiful, quirky, smile canted itself into a frown. No. Not a frown so much as a shock and emotion was wiped from Holly's face. A hand crept to cover her mouth and Holly spoke, her voice suddenly a whisper. "How?"
"In her sleep," Gail said softly. She walked up to Holly and started to reach out.
Her wife all but fell into her arms, already crying. The sound was heart breaking. It wasn't verbal at all. Holly just sobbed. Gail held her close, leading her to the couch. While she held Holly, stroking her hair and rocking her, Vivian packed up Holly's desk. Then she sat on Holly's other side and put a hand on her mother's back.
Because Lily Stewart was dead and the world was a horrible, terrible, agonizing place.
"When?" Holly's voice was a raw picture of pain, her face pressed into Gail's shoulder.
"Just now. She was napping on the deck by her garden." Gail rested her cheek on Holly's head. "Brian went to wake her up for lunch and ... She was gone."
There was a hitch in Holly's voice. "God, Daddy..."
"We can fly out tonight."
Holly shook her head. "No. Morning. We can... We can take the first flight out."
"Holly, if it's about money, this is what savings are for."
Again, Holly shook her head. "Gail. Tomorrow. Please."
When Gail opened her mouth, Vivian spoke up. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." Gail capitulated.
Vivian leaned away. "Mom, I'm going to take your car home, okay?"
"Oh, Viv." Holly lifted her head to look at their daughter. She reached over and touched Vivian's face.
Vivian smiled sadly at Holly. "Keys?"
"In my desk. What about your bike?"
"I'll get it later. Mom, get three tickets, okay?"
Gail nodded. No point in arguing that one.
The night was painful, as expected. Holly was all but mute and Vivian hadn't been very chatty for a while. Gail let Vivian handle the feeding them part while she sorted plane tickets and travel plans. Then she offered to drop Vivian back at the station, to get her bike and go pack, but the kid took care of that by calling in a favor from Matty.
The boy— the man made his condolences to Holly, hugging her and saying if they needed anything, he was there for them. Because to him, they were family. They'd picked him up when they had no reason save he was Vivian's friend, and offered to move the world for him. He was here, now, showing them in word and deed that he understood the lesson. They'd shown him how to love and care too.
Lessons Gail felt she had learned, really truly learned, from Lily.
In a way, Gail wished Vivian had spent the night, just for the emotional backup. But it would be so unfair if her to put that kind of pressure on her child, no matter how mature that child could be. Besides, Vivian was struggling with her own demons too much lately. The revelation of her aunt could have gone better. They could have broken the law... But Gail had hoped, God she had hoped so much that it would never come up. That they would exist in a world far away and never bother them.
Instead, they'd thrown Vivian's sense of self asunder. Oh how Gail knew that one well. And then she'd had to watch as her daughter lashed out, frustrated and hurt and angry, at those close to her. At her girlfriend.
Unlike Gail at the same age, Vivian admitted that she wasn't sure if they'd broken up, and that they were leaving messages. Texts. Voice mails. And they knew each other's schedules so well, so Gail was pretty sure they were making sure to leave those messages when they knew the other was working. Phone tag on purpose. Vivian implied the conversations were not of depth or substance, just random.
At least they were sort of talking, which was one up on Holly right now.
Having a silent, pained, Holly was not on the top of her list of enjoyable things. Depression was one thing. Agony was another. She was accustomed to Holly's depression, as horrible as that was. She knew what was the part of Holly's brain that the doctor had not too much control over. She knew how to separate angry, frustrated, depressed Holly from the chemicals that made her irrational sometimes.
But in July, that was rare. The sunshine treated Holly well. Her skin absorbed vitamin D, her smile became wider, her laugh brighter. Holly blossomed in summer. As much of a vampire as Gail was, the blonde would dutifully cover up every inch and put on a hat and brave the evil day star just to be with Holly and see that smile. Not that Gail would ever admit that to anyone. But yes, Gail loved seeing Holly happy.
The happy, summer Holly had all been washed away that afternoon. The more Holly had cried, the quieter she got, until finally, now, she just sat in bed, watching Gail finish packing. Hugging her knees. The crying had come and gone for what felt like hours, and Gail felt a little guilty for being relieved it had stopped.
Gail didn't know what to say. She put their suitcases by the door and sat next to her wife. Still silent, Holly reached over to take Gail's hand. Gail cleared her throat. "I'm going to shower, sweetheart. Okay?"
Holly nodded. "Thank you."
With a nod that felt stupid, Gail showered and slid into the bed. Holly lay on her side, facing away from Gail. As soon as Gail was settled, Holly scooted back until she was nestled in as the little spoon. It was clear Holly wasn't sleeping, just lying there quietly. Gail wondered if Holly just felt empty, like Gail had after Jerry died. Probably not the same way, but similar.
The memories of how she felt about Jerry were, to put it mildly, fucked up. It was a jumble of memories and nightmares and flashes of confusing pain and terror. By the time Gail had just started to process that Jerry was really dead, Traci was sitting on her hospital bed in need of the one person who could look and see Traci, not some sad little creature.
Oh. Yeah. Gail got that in one. The guilt though. That had taken her years to work through. Sometimes she didn't think she had at all. That it was all still stupid and her fault and... It wasn't. None of it was her fault. Except not looking in the peep hole. Rubbing the back of Holly's hand, Gail wondered if Holly had finally told Vivian that was why the cop was so adamant about everyone checking the door before opening. She vaguely remembered a few arguments with pre-teen Vivian about it, and then at thirteen or so they'd just stopped.
That was a later question. Today, though, today was a death that was no ones fault.
Things like this were expected but not expected. They all knew cops could die at work. And they all knew their parents would die first. After all, Bill was dead. It was the role of a parent to precede a child into death. But not Lily. Not suddenly like this. Lily, the wonderful woman who'd gotten on a plane to take care of Gail, not Holly, and a soon to be adopted child. Lily, who had that big brain and heart, just like her daughter. Lily who sent them admonishments about the garden, who fought with her daughter over sports betting pools, and who really could not swim worth a penny.
Gail smiled a little at that memory. They'd gone fishing, after the stupid Ebola thing, and Lily had been goaded into swimming. As the resident accomplished swimmer, Gail had already been in the water helping Vivian learn. As a born inner city child, it was understandable that Vivian didn't know. But as a dedicated outdoor enthusiast, hiker, camper, and gardener, it was abhorrent and hilarious that Lily couldn't swim.
Then Holly spoke, startling Gail out of her thoughts.
"She was so mad when I went into pathology," said Holly quietly. "That was our first real fight. Only real fight."
Gail realized she'd never actually heard the story. She'd heard of it, it was talked around by the Stewarts, but never out loud. "That's when you sold the motorcycle."
"Yeah. She cried. She didn't want me to suffer with the dead all day." Holly hand twisted, found Gail's fingers and squeezed them softly.
"Says someone who was never a people doctor."
Her wife puffed a small laugh. "I know, right?" She laced her fingers with Gail's, holding on.
Gail waited the silence out a little and then offered a comment. "That's the worst part of my job. People are morons."
"They are such shits," said Holly, agreeing.
There was a longer silence. "Lily wasn't, though."
In her arms, Holly shook a little. A near cry shake. "No. She wasn't." Holly squeezed her hand again. "Gay was not in Mom's handbook."
Gail smiled softly. "Did she really catch you with your hand up a girl's shirt?"
This time Holly shook from a laugh. "No. Boobs over shirt."
"But she got over it pretty fast."
"She didn't," Holly said in a small admission. "I was mad at her for years." She shifted around and looked at Gail. "You know the whole mess with college was because I was gay."
While she had not known absolutely, Gail had been pretty sure. "I'd guessed."
Nodding, Holly pressed her head into Gail's chest. "The motorcycle didn't help."
"I can't see how it would. Flannel, bikes, hanging out with Lisa..."
Her wife snorted an unfunny laugh. "I was pretty hot."
"News flash. You're still pretty hot. But I gotta say, I would have figured out the gay a lot sooner if I'd met college Holly."
Holly laughed again. "I'm a bit too old for that."
"Hey, I could have started a year or two early." Gail almost had, actually. It was realizing that graduation got her closer to the academy, a prospect that had horrified her as a youth, that caused her to intentionally drag her feet.
"I would have been your TA as a freshman."
"I never would have missed a class."
Holly muffled a laugh in Gail's chest. "I'm glad we met when we did."
"I could have used you about four or five years earlier," admitted Gail.
"Hm. No. I was an idiot back then." Holly sighed into Gail's neck. "I mean, I was picking arguments with Mom all the time, trying to just get her to understand it was what I wanted. I was gay. I wanted to be a pathologist. It was... You know, I wish we hadn't been fighting. That's ... That's five more years I could have had."
Gail stroked her wife's hair. "On the other hand, you had all the other years. And they meant more because of the time you fought."
"True." Holly huffed. And then. "This sucks."
"Understatement of the decade, babe." Gail lay back and settled Holly against her. It was comfortable and familiar. They had lain like that, like this, a hundred times. Gleaning serenity. Carving a slice of calm and quiet and safe in a world that did its damnedest to destroy all of that.
The safe was all Gail wanted to offer right then. How could she? Gail had been kidnapped and nearly killed. She'd been blown up, shot at, slushied, and a million other things. Holly had been exposed to Ebola (oh fine, Luongo River Fever). She'd nearly been hit by a car, shot at as well, and a hundred other smaller attacks. And Vivian... God. Their kid was going to run into buildings.
Gail closed her eyes and caressed Holly's hair and shoulders.
Life wasn't safe. It wasn't pretty or perfect. It was painful and traumatic and jarring. Everything always happened at once. Everything had to hurt.
"Not exactly a fairytale," said Holly at length, her voice sad.
"No. It's not."
"I love you, Gail. You know that, right?"
For a moment, Gail wanted to reply flippantly. Of course she knew. She'd seen Holly naked a hundred times that year alone. She had the woman in her arms. But that wasn't what Holly needed to hear just then. Gail tilted her head and pressed her lips to Holly's forehead. "I know you love me. And so did Lily, sweetheart."
Holly sighed and her weight grew heavier and and heavier. Finally her breathing changed and her heart rate slowed and the doctor drifted off to sleep.
When Gail told her she was worried about Brian, Vivian filed it away and assumed her mother was overreacting a bit.
Gail had a marked tendency to assume the worst about things. She overreacted about a lot of things in life, and she always expected life to deal her the worst hand. Even though Gail was decades married to Holly now, she was certain life hated her especially. Early wounds left deep scars, as Lily once told her. Gail's left her with some pretty impressive scars and theories about life.
Most people wouldn't figure Gail for the superstitious sort, but she had a theory that death came in threes. And they all knew Grandpa had problems with fear and change and death. Frankly Vivian thought that Gail was the one who had the issues with death, not Brian. Hell, Gail once got it in her head that Vivian might be suicidal, just because she kept everything so bottled up.
Well. Vivian did do that. The bottling things up bit. Not the suicidal part. The act of suicide had never seriously crossed her mind. Oh sure, from time to time she thought about death and how it might impact her friends and family. Everyone thought about it. What would the world be like after one had died.
The concept of actually killing herself had never once crossed her mind.
Death was so final. And unlike so many other people, she knew the answer. Vivian knew exactly what happened after someone killed themselves. Their family was left alone, abandoned, wondering if they'd ever been loved at all. The survivors, the ones left behind as Gail said, were burned and scarred and left in tatters. Their world was ripped apart and left uncertain. It ripped out hearts.
Killing herself would leave her mothers in agony. God knew what it might do for Jamie. Vivian sighed. She needed to call Jamie. She dithered and, in the end, texted her that she wanted Jamie to be safe just as they boarded the plane that morning. With everything else going on, Jamie getting hurt felt it would shatter Vivian. And how could she possibly say anything about Lily's death? It would seem so opportunistic, using death to sort themselves out.
And yet... And yet Lily was reminding her that she had a person she liked a lot, and she didn't want to lose.
On the airplane, Holly asked to sit in the middle, and spent the flight with the arm separator up, leaning against Gail. Claustrophobic Gail took the aisle, as she almost always did, leaving too tall Vivian cramped and staring out the window, thinking about death, life, family, and how the hell she was going to talk to her girlfriend. If they were still girlfriends.
She thought they were. She hoped they were. She needed to talk to Jamie. She needed to tell Jamie that she was sorry, that she'd been angry and lashed out and was stupid and she was sorry.
Wasn't that just fucking perfect. Now that she was ready and able to figure out what she should say, her family was in uproars and she couldn't ask her Moms for help. Was that adulting? It sucked, if so.
When they got to Vancouver, Gail sorted out the car while Vivian sat with Holly outside and tried to suck in some sunshine and fresh air.
"I wonder if Dad will stay out here."
Vivian startled. Holly had been so quiet, she'd not expected her mother to say anything. "Didn't he want to move back here?"
"He did, but only when Mom got a job." Holly smiled. "I used to love coming out here for Christmas as a kid. My grandparents, Dad's parents, lived closer to the water, in this wonderful place with a massive lawn. No guest rooms, so we'd stay a hotel. I thought it was awesome."
"Yeah? Maybe we should go to the ocean."
"Maybe, if we have time."
"Would Grandad like it?"
Holly tilted her head. "He would. I think."
Her mother lapsed back into silence as they drove out to the house. Brian was waiting for them on the front porch and when Vivian saw her grandfather, she knew suddenly why Gail had been worried. God, how she knew that face. She'd seen it in the mirror as a child. A ghost of a man. A man who wouldn't sleep in his own bedroom because it had been theirs. So after her parents went to bed in the guest house, Vivian suggested her grandfather stay in the guest room and she'd take the couch.
The big house had two offices, neither of which had a bed or couch, and one guest room. Sometimes, some holidays were spent with Vivian in the guest house with her mothers, but sometimes she liked to stay in the main house with her grandparents. Knowing her mothers were a text and a sprint away seemed to make it alright.
This time, it was her evil ploy. Vivian knew Brian would get up in the night and come downstairs. When he did, she flicked the light on.
"Go back to sleep, Viv," said the weary man.
Before this, Vivian had never thought of Brian as old. But Holly was just 59 as of last week. And Brian had been 30 when she'd been born. He was almost 90. Lily had been 86. Immediately she remembered Elaine was 88. Jesus, they were old. Fragile. Elaine had looked similarly weary and thin in the hospital the year before.
"Want some tea?" She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Brian hesitated. "Cocoa."
"Okay," said Vivian, smiling.
A bit later, they sat on the front porch in the sultry June heat. Sipping cocoa. "You never spent a lot of time here in summer. Without your Moms."
"Sorry."
Brian shook his head. "I never had that fantasy of the grandkids over for a summer."
"Did grandma?"
"No. Not after ... " He trailed off and laughed. "Not after your mother declared she was never marrying or having a baby."
Vivian grinned. "Technically she didn't have a baby."
"Technically she did not, that is true. That is true." Brian sighed and shook his head. "You? Gonna get married and have kids?"
"Maybe," she replied and looked down. "I'm kinda having a fight with my girlfriend right now."
"Yeah? Wanna tell your old granddad about it?"
She looked at the man who adored her and her mothers. The number of men she trusted, really trusted, were few. Oliver, of course. Steve sometimes. John more than Steve, if she was being really honest. And Brian. The grandfather who gave her space and never tried to be a parent, but was there whenever she asked.
And here he was, coping with the loss of the love of his life, offering to be an ear.
"You just want me to distract you," said Vivian thoughtfully.
"Yes. But ... I want something I can fix. Maybe."
Vivian could get behind that. "Well." She leaned back in the deck chair. "My aunt showed up."
There was a heavy pause. "Your what?"
"Yeah..." Vivian sighed and explained what had happened. She left nothing out, not even the part where she'd been angry and shouted a bit at Holly. Not really at Holly but still. And she told him about how she'd been a fucking brat to Jamie as well.
"Ah hell, honey." The man growled. "What a messed up thing that is."
"Yeah," said Vivian, mumbling. "And ... And the stupid thing is I'm not mad at her, but ... I don't know what I'm supposed to say." She twisted her fingers together. "Calling her mom that was kinda mean."
"A bit, yeah."
"Yeah."
Brian stared out over the long driveway. "I'm going to sell this place. Move back into town."
"I ... I guessed you would."
"You're smart."
"If I'm smart, how come I tank my personal life?"
"Because you're an idiot too."
Vivian blinked and then snickered. So did Brian. Then he laughed and she laughed and a weight lifted off her chest. It had been a while since she just laughed. "I am an idiot."
"So am I, you know. We bought this place for Lily. She loved it. The woods, the garden, the space..." He shook his head. "I hated it at first. But it grew on me." Brian paused. "See, we didn't always get along, me and Lily. Part of it was me, part of it was her. I don't know if Holly remembers, but when she was a girl, she spent a summer with Lily's sister because we were fighting so much we were thinking about divorce."
The story was news to Vivian. Wide eyed, she stared at her grandfather. "Divorce... But you didn't."
"Yep. We separated for a month." He sighed loudly. "It was the worst month of my life. I love her, Vivian. She ... She was my dream girl, sometimes, but she was funny and smart and beautiful and ... She was everything."
"Sometimes?"
Brian smiled. "No matter how much you love someone, Viv, you don't love everything about them. The parts of Lily I love... Loved. No. The parts of her I love outweighed the ones that annoyed me, and the very few I hated. She was a drunkard's dream come to life for me. I knew I couldn't live without her after that summer."
Vivian chewed her bottom lip. How terribly foreboding. Maybe Gail was right. "What'd you do?"
"I went home. I told her I was an idiot and I'd go get help for being so screwed up. But I wanted... I'd like her to help me."
"And she did," said Vivian, understanding.
"She did. And we kept trying. Because being with someone you care about, Viv. It's not easy. It's messy. Imperfect. But we try because we know life without them sucks. And we want them with us to make it all a little better. Even if we fight."
"Not exactly a fairytale," Vivian said, softly.
"Hah. That was Holly."
Bewildered, Vivian nodded. "Yeah. She says it to Gail sometimes. I think it was around the whole hair massacre time."
"Well." Brian looked over the lawn and trees. "I guess she does remember the fighting then. That was something I said to Lily. We weren't a fairytale, but we were still beautiful."
Vivian frowned and looked at her empty mug. Then, in a small voice, she asked, "What if she doesn't feel the same way?" She knew he'd know she meant Jamie.
Brian smiled. "Having not yet met this girl, I can't say if she does. But either way, you should try. Ask. Tell her."
Vivian sighed and slumped. Slouched. "I don't know how."
"Start with something simple. Like ... I'm sorry."
She looked at her grandfather. He made it sound so simple and easy. She sighed and nodded. "I'm trying," she said quietly.
Brian hesitated and then put a hand on her knee. "If you were Holls, I'd give you a big hug and tell you I love you. But you, you've always been a bit more Gail."
"Is that good or bad?'
"Neither. It's just you, Viv." He squeezed her knee. "I'm glad they adopted you. And I do love you."
She tilted her had to study her grandfather. "Thank you," she said very quietly. What Vivian wanted to say was she loved him too. Because that was what he said. She wanted to tell Brian that he was why she knew it was okay to trust some men. Him and Oliver and Steve and John. And Nick and Dov and Chris. All the people her mothers had brought to her were good.
But so was Lily. Vivian would always remember Lily arriving like a bolt of lightning. Showing up at the door when Gail was asleep, exhausted on the couch. Even then, Vivian understood why Gail had been so drained when Holly was sick. Because Holly might have died and if she had, Gail would have looked like Brian did now. And then Lily, like an angel from heaven, showed up and hugged Gail. Actually hugged her. And Vivian realized that's how things were supposed to be.
People were loved and wanted and cherished. Family was supposed to take care of each other.
It didn't matter that Gail wasn't her daughter, not to Lily. It mattered that Gail loved her daughter, and that her daughter loved Gail and Vivian. That made them family no matter what.
And now Lily was gone. There was no one to swoop in and rescue them.
Vivian put her cocoa mug down and scooted to the end of her chair to hug her grandfather.
"I love you too, Grandpa."
The flight home was strange. And the strangest part wasn't the fact that Gail had a dead woman in her carry-on luggage.
Brian flew with them, taking the window seat and watching Canada float past them. Holly sat middle with Gail on the end, their armrests flipped up so they could hold hands most of the flight. Vivian, long legs and all, had the opposite aisle, though she looked relieved. Gail made a note to figure out better airplane seating, but not today. Today everyone was quiet.
It was a strange world. Gail hated being in a plane on the best days, and this was not the best. At least Holly just wanted to lean against her. If Gail had been pressed to talk to Holly or Brian, she might have cried. On the other hand, Vivian had to get up multiple times to let her inner seat mate get out.
At the fourth time, Vivian signed a question, asking if Holly had some sleeping pills she could slip the guy. Gail smirked. That was her kid alright.
The flight took an interminable amount of time. It was just long. Everyone was tired and cranky and hungry. Vivian had the most brain of them all, driving them back to the house and ordering dinner. Both Brian and Holly were near zombies, quiet and uncommunicative until calling it an early night.
"Are they going to be okay?" Vivian gnawed her lower lip as she cleaned up.
"Eventually they'll be whatever the new okay is," said Gail.
Her daughter sighed. "It's fucking creepy having Lily in a vase on the coffee table. You get that, right?"
Gail smiled. "It is. But Holly and I want to be green composted too, Monkey."
"And don't think that isn't weird. Making me bury your ass up at the cottage. Are you sure I can't dump some on Fifteen?"
"I'm sure." But it was hard not to laugh. "I want to be a tree. I think being a tree, you can sit under it and remember me and Holly for as long as you want, or not. And maybe future Pecks can play under it."
Vivian twisted her face into a smirk. "You are officially weird, Mom."
"Holly wants grandkids. You get that, right?"
"Oh yeah, her veiled hints have been getting broader." Vivian frowned.
"Have you told Jamie what's up?"
The younger Peck shook her head. "She never met Lily anyway."
Gail smacked the back of Vivian's head lightly. "Dumb ass. That's not the point." But she didn't push it. One family drama at a time. "Are you feeling okay? With Lily and all."
Her daughter rubbed the back of her head. "No. I miss her already. A lot. It's... She was how I figured out what family love was supposed to be. I mean, with people you add on later."
"Oh?" Gail tried not to look too surprised.
"Yeah. When she showed up, when Holly was sick? And she said no matter what, you were her family too?"
Amazing. Vivian had been six at the time, and Gail was quite sure she'd missed much of the nuances of the conversations. Apparently not. "It was true, you know."
"I know."
"She was a great person." Gail sighed. "Your mom is awesome mostly because of her."
Vivian smiled. "Grandpa's okay."
"For a guy?" Gail teased a little. Vivian had once said Brian was okay for a man. She'd been about nine at the time, and right around the point when she starting calling him grandpa.
"For anyone." Vivian was serious. "He's a good guy." Then she added, "I get why you're worried about him."
Gail sighed. "I worried it was just me seeing things."
"No," said Vivian. "He's just ... I dunno. It's like Grandma was holding him together. I kinda wish he lived here."
"He won't. He likes Vancouver." Gail leaned on the counter. "We could move there, I guess." Vivian snorted. Loudly. "What? We could!"
"You will never leave Toronto, Mom. And Mom will never leave you."
She had a point, though Gail decided not to point out that if she died first, which given her job was a strong possibility, Holly might move. "What about you?"
Vivian looked around. "As long as you're here, I'm here. I think... If you were gonna leave it would have been if Mom had gone to San Francisco, and Elaine was still evil."
"Hah!" It was impossible not to laugh. "I don't miss those days. But you're avoiding the question."
"Not... Not right now. I kinda want to think..." She trailed off and flushed. "I kinda want to think there's a chance. With me and Jamie."
Ah. "Yeah. I know that. Do me a favor though? If you think you do want to move, don't make your big gesture with Jamie be 'I'm moving and I want you to come with me.' Not your mom's smoothest move."
Vivian chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Come on. Let's get some sleep. Unless you're going home..."
"Tonight, yeah. Tomorrow I'll stay over if that's okay."
"Sunrise service? Probably smart." Gail squeezed Vivian's shoulder. "See you tomorrow. Bring bagels."
"You're not going to make them? I feel robbed." But Vivian smiled as she headed out and back to her apartment.
Gail stared at the vase on her coffee table. "Well hell, Lily. Why you? Huh." Glancing up at the stairs, and making sure her wife and father-in-law were asleep, Gail sat and sighed. "So I talk to dead people. I don't know if Holly told you about it. But Jerry. Well."
At Gail's request, Holly had told Lily, about the nightmares and the whole Perik thing. When he'd died, there had been a time when the dreams got worse and then better. But she didn't know if Holly had explained Gail still went to talk to Jerry sometimes. Some years she just sat with him. Some years she told him off. Once she left him a box of Timbits.
When Vivian was ten or so, she'd asked if it helped. So the next year, Gail brought Vivian and introduced her to the man who saved Gail's life. And confessed it didn't always help. But it did sometimes. And sometimes was enough.
Gail looked at the ceiling, and then the vase again.
"I know you're not there. That's not how this works. Your energy is ... Somewhere else. I don't know. Your daughter's the scientist. But... Thank you. For Holly. And you, and Brian. Thank you. It's selfish, but I wouldn't have made it without her. I know it. And God, if she'd died that year, I don't know what... But you helped me keep it together. You helped me and my Mom. You made me better too."
With a frustrated exhale, Gail picked up the vase. "Thank you. For everything. I'll try to make sure we do what you want. But I gotta say. You're dead. So if Holly changes her mind and wants you to live on our mantle, that's what's gonna happen. She's alive. And I have to take care of her. That's my job as a wife, right? As a human. Take care of the people I love."
She paused. "But I loved you too. You're my family too."
Gail carefully put the vase back down. "And the kid is right. It's fucking creepy having you in the house, you nerd."
She was sure Lily would have cracked up.
The next day was a whirlwind of stupid little things to do. They'd made as many arrangements as possible from Vancouver, which meant a few hassles of permits for the dispersal of ashes. While, years ago, Gail had just dumped the ashes of Ernie (not his real name) out into the lake, this was different. This was someone her wife had loved. This was someone she had loved too.
Elaine and her millions of connections had been helpful as well, making sure that every needed permit was acquired quickly and cleanly. The way Gail saw it, if they didn't use the Peck name for good, people would forget it had power. Or something like that. When she came by with the papers, notarized and signed, Brian asked that Elaine come to the funeral. If she wanted.
The funeral was bound to be small. Lily had outlived her two sisters (one being significantly older and the other died in an accident, both when Vivian was young), and most of Holly's cousins had long since left Toronto. It was probably just going to be Holly, Gail, Brian, and Vivian. And now Elaine, who barely hesitated before saying if Brian was sure, then she would. Much to Gail's surprise, her mother confessed to regularly calling Lily and chatting about everything. They kept each other up to date on the machinations of their daughters, making sure the other knew how the wind lay.
Not long before dawn on the third day, Elaine met them at the conservatory. There had been little sleep the night before for any of them. Holly had lain in bed, silent and still, eyes wide open. Gail had cat napped, more or less, and felt pretty useless. When Bill had died, it felt like Holly had managed to expertly keep Gail together.
Then again, Gail's love for Bill had been extremely different from Holly's for Lily. Of course she'd loved her father. Asshole though he was, Bill was her father and there were reasons to love parents, even if there were times Gail hated him too. She hated the ticking time bombs of emotional damage he'd dumped on her, and the overall mistreatment of her and her brother and her mother.
But he'd taught her how to be a cop. Learning to drive, to shoot, and to protect herself all came from Bill. The reason she'd held the top score on the driving course for a decade had been from him. Being a cop was all he could teach her and all he had taught her. Serve. Protect. Even if people hated the uniform, the person they didn't know, and the government they represented, a cop had a duty they'd sworn to do.
Holly's relationship with Lily was vastly different. Thank god. But it meant while Gail's emotional trauma from Bill dying was mostly confusing and frustrating and ... Well. It was a cluster fuck. Holly was just left feeling adrift. Empty. Sad.
Depressed.
Both her and Brian.
The waterworks happened as the sun rose. They all watched the summer dawn broke and the sky turned beautiful shades of purple and rose and yellow, easing open the sky from the dark of night into the safe light of day. A few, slightly confused, conservatory employees watched as they stood in silence and waited.
Crying.
All of them. Even Vivian, who generally did not succumb to tears unless frustrated beyond belief. Or angry. Sad tears weren't her thing. As they cried, Brian finally spoke.
"Lily. Lily would call us blubbering idiots."
Holly snorted a thick, wet, laugh. "Black is not your color, Dad."
"Gail looks good in it." Brian blew his nose and looked at Gail. "How do you do that, Gail?"
"It's a gift," said Gail.
Taking her hand, Holly smiled. "She looks good in almost any color. She knows how to dress herself."
"Yeah, like a vampire," Vivian remarked, dryly.
"A joke everyone on the planet had made," countered Gail.
"Including Lily." Brian nodded. "She said you were gorgeous, witty, smart, made bad jokes, and were a vampire."
"It's the Peck curse," said Gail. "Hundreds of years ago, an ancient ancestor of mine saved a gypsy who cursed him with eternal life and charged him to protect the city."
Brian cracked up. "What? That doesn't even make sense!"
Even Elaine laughed though. "It's true! I signed a contract in blood when I married in."
Holly wiped the tears of laughter from her face. "Me too, sorry Daddy."
Faux offended, Brian scowled. "I thought you were a vagitarian, not a vampire!"
Everyone laughed. Oh god, it felt so good to laugh like that, to just make the terrible jokes they'd always made with Lily there. To tease and harass each other in the ways that said they loved each other.
"That was a bad one, Brian." Gail smiled and took Holly's hand. "Real bad."
"Sorry." He sighed and hefted the urn. "Trying to do bad mom and dad jokes here, since Elaine ..."
"Oh I was a terrible mother," said Elaine, firmly. "I'm shocked my children talk to me." But her smile softened. "Lily helped me with that."
Holly leaned into Gail's shoulder. Then she looked over at Vivian and held a hand out. When Vivian took the hand, Holly tugged her in for a hug. "We'll be pretty wrecked when you die, Elaine."
"We already went over this. I'm a vampire, never dying." Elaine gently touched Holly and Gail's shoulders. "Lily was an amazing, wonderful, brilliant, woman, Holly. I'm so very glad I got to know her."
Vivian sighed. "Me too. I'm glad she was my family."
"Me three," said Gail. "Thank you for marrying me, Lunchbox."
"I'd do it again," said Holly softly.
"So would I," said Brian. "You want to do this with me, Holls?"
"No." But Holly kissed Gail's cheek and let go, taking the lid off Lily's urn.
They'd left half of the ashes back in Vancouver, some spread over the garden and the house, the rest waiting for Brian to decide what to do with. Today, though, they were doing exactly what Lily wanted.
Brian pulled a creased piece of paper out of his pocket. "When we were dating, way before Holls was our accident, Lily's grandfather died. She went to his funeral and wrote me a letter. I kept it." He cleared his throat. "Dear Brian. I'm at a funeral and I hate it so I'm going to make this simple. Don't bury me. Don't leave me in the earth in a cemetery. This place is so sad, so morbid, so empty. It's filled with death and memories and dead flowers. I can't make people I love do this, to think all that's left of me is in one place. We are in all things." Brian paused, hiccuped, and his voice got tight. "We are in all things. You are in me, and I'm in you now. When I said... When I said..."
Gail closed her eyes. She hated that people did this. They read things that were moving and meaningful and heartwarming. And they cried.
She took a deep breath and, before Holly could, reached over for the letter. If she could do this for Traci, who just needed a friend, then she could do this for the man who was her family. The woman who was her family and gave her the most precious thing in Gail's life. Lily had given her so much more than just her life. Lily had given her the ability to live.
And Gail read.
"When I said I thought I loved you, I was wrong. I do love you, and I was wrong to tell you not to come here. I love the broken parts of you, Brian. The strength to keep going. I love you. All of you. And I'm not afraid of us anymore. But I'm afraid to ask this, so I'm writing this. In a hundred years, when we're old and grey and maybe we have our own children and our grandchildren, and I die, don't bury me. Don't leave me in one place, because as long as you live and as long as our children live, and as long as someone out there remembers us, we are in all things and all places. For as long as I live, I want to live with you to enjoy the days we have. So spread my ashes in the places we lived and loved. Keep some if you want. If you die first, I'll have us spread together. Because we are in all things in the universe, and we are together. We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon. And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden. Love, Lily."
The conservatory was uncomfortably silent. "Wow," said Vivian at length. "Grandma was really romantic."
"Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young," Gail said, thoughtfully. "Its from Woodstock."
"Joni Mitchell, and the song is called Woodstock," Elaine corrected. "She couldn't go, because her agent said it would be better to go on some talk show. Nash was her boyfriend."
Vivian looked amused. "She quoted a folk song?"
"Just wait. Funerals are going to quote Beiber." Gail muttered darkly, fearing for the future.
"Backstreet Boys," suggested Holly.
"One Direction," Brian said, grinning. He reached into the jar and tossed some ashes into the garden. "Be stardust, Lily."
Holly sighed and did the same. "Be everywhere, Mom."
"Oh my god," muttered Gail. "You're going to put her in our gardens, aren't you?"
"Don't be an ass, Mom," said Vivian. "And yes we are."
"Impossible." Holly dusted her hands off. "Gail's always an ass. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
They made their way back home, stopping for a quiet breakfast out at Gail's insistence. After all, she had to eat, so everyone else probably ought to as well.
"I have a headache," muttered Holly, leaning into Brian as they got to the living room.
"Why don't you lie down, baby girl?" Brian looked exhausted himself. He kissed her forehead. "Gail can babysit me."
Gail snorted. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment."
"I'll keep an eye on them both," said Vivian in an overtly tolerant tone.
"Thank you." Holly hugged her father and then got up to give Vivian's shoulder a squeeze. She didn't ask Gail to walk her upstairs, but the slight head tilt, the eyebrows, told Gail what she needed to know.
She took Holly's hand and walked with her upstairs. Holly was quiet as they got to the bedroom. "I'm putting on jeans," said Gail.
"Hang up your shirt, then."
"Would your dad care if I walk around in just a bra?"
"No, probably not." Holly usually would tease her or make a comment about something. Not so much at the moment.
Gail sighed. "Hey, Lunchbox?" When Holly made a noise, she went on. "Come here?"
Holly looked over, surprised, and didn't move. "Gail, I'm okay."
"Liar," said Gail, and she held her arms out before dropping them by her side. "You're all up in that big brain of yours, sweetheart."
Her wife sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't know... I feel like... All the feels got sucked out of me."
Gail hesitated and sat beside her. "It's been a lot, really fast."
Holly nodded and sighed. "When Bill died, you said— I remember you telling us about how you didn't feel after Perik." Her voice caught.
Oh. Gail instinctively wrapped an arm around Holly's shoulders, pulling her in. "Holly, no. God, no. I get it." Her wife shook and Gail held on. "It's a different empty when they die. With Perik I was just a black hole. But Bill... I was so mad at him and disappointed and then I had this blank spot. I felt too much. I was overwhelmed."
"Oh!" Holly sounded relieved and returned Gail's hug finally. "How come you can explain that?" She sniffed a deep breath.
"Make you feel better by reading your mind and knowing what you're thinking?" Gail smiled. "Twenty years, baby." This time Holly poked her a little. Good. "Come on. Let's put on normal clothes and I'll read to you a bit until you fall asleep. Maybe your headache will go away."
Holly sighed loudly. "Well if that doesn't work, I'm for trying sex."
Gail smirked. "We can do that too."
But less than half an hour later, Holly was sound asleep with a frown. Her head had to be killing her after not sleeping and the stress and pain. Gail stayed a while longer, stroking Holly's back until the woman fell into a deeper sleep and the frown faded into the calmness of her normal state.
As she came back downstairs, Gail realized the house was quieter. Had the others gone for a nap as well? She couldn't blame anyone, and decided to get something else to eat. All jokes about her being a garbage pail aside, Gail's metabolism was still a little insane. If she didn't eat, she got headaches. Holly called them metabolic headaches, amusingly enough.
Just as Gail walked into the kitchen, she saw the porch door swing closed and heard the pop of one of the fancy fizzy sodas.
"Thanks," said Brian, his quiet voice drifting through the open window. "None for you?"
"Eh," said Vivian. Her voice was slightly less quiet and empty, but just as tired.
"Ah." Brian laughed a little. "Holding up okay? You and Gail get all people overloaded."
"Oh, I'm okay. The airplane was worse."
"Sorry you got the aisle. How many times did that guy get up?"
"Five. Not that I was counting." Vivian used her most sarcastic, Peck, voice.
They both laughed. Gail smiled and hesitated before taking up a position by the fridge where she could hear better. Eavesdropping was hella rude, she knew, but it was her kid and her kind of father, and sometimes they talked differently to each other than to others.
"So. Have you called her yet?"
"Ugh, Grandpa, seriously?"
"The love of my life died, mini-Peck. I want to see my grandkid's."
"I don't know..." Vivian trailed off.
"You're 25. Of course you don't. I didn't. Hell, I wasn't sure until Holly was born."
"Oh wow, that is so heartening," snarled Vivian.
"Stop being Gail." Brian sounded amused. "I know that's hard, but she and Holls nearly fucked that up by not talking."
Petulantly, Vivian replied. "We are talking."
"Voicemail and texts are not talking."
"We reply to each other."
Brian sighed loudly. "You know why I hate that phone? You think it's enough. It's a connection. And it's not."
That had been an ongoing argument with Brian. For years. He hated the idea of phones for communication. Texting, little heartbeats on the watches. Brian hated all of it, and it drove Gail up a wall.
Apparently it bothered Vivian too. "That's pretty ableist, Grandpa."
"What?"
"Not everyone can say what they feel out loud. The words just dry up and it hurts to form them, God forbid say 'em. And it doesn't mean we don't feel them, or want to say them. We just... Can't. If Moms didn't have the watches and the phones for texting, just to say things, I don't think they'd be married."
That shut Brian up for a long minute. Finally, though, he spoke. "Do you think if Gail just replied to the texts and calls, they would have been okay?"
It was Vivian's turn for thoughtful silence. "No. But maybe they would have figured it out sooner."
The man sighed. "Well now. That's a thought."
Vivian sighed as well. "I can talk to Jamie about stuff, though."
"Like?"
"My birth parents."
Brian sounded impressed. "Really?" They were quiet again, and then Brian spoke. "You should go talk to her in person." He was firm. "Now."
"What... Now?"
"Yes, granddaughter. Go out. Go to her place. Tell her you're sorry. Tell her you don't want to break up. You want to try. And, fuck, call that thing Holly does. What is it?"
"You mean Parlay?"
"Yes! Call Parlay and stumble over your words. You said you talk to her. That you can. So you need to put on your big girl pants and do it. Because... life is too short, Vivian. You like this girl, and there is no reason to not tell her you like her. And if Lily was here, she'd take your phone and call Jamie herself."
There was a pause. "God, Grandma would."
"She would. Now go."
Of all things, Gail heard the sound of someone kissing someone's cheek. She quickly opened the fridge and was looking in as Vivian ran through, promising to be right back. Gail took a bottle of iced tea out and stepped onto the back porch with Brian, grinning. "Thank you," she told him, taking the empty seat.
"Welcome. It's a hell of a lot easier with her than Holls, tell you what."
Gail blinked. Easier? Could it be... "Wait a second... The ... There was a day Holly just showed up at the station and kissed me and said she wasn't over me."
Her father in law sighed. A deep sigh. "She takes so much looking after, that girl."
All these years later, a mystery was solved. Gail laughed helplessly, finally understanding that her wife had followed her dad's advice to get the girl back.
"Jesus, what am I doing." But she rang the bell and waited.
Thirty minutes ago Vivian had been sitting on the back porch with her grandfather. It had only taken a long as it had because she had to push her bike down the street, so as not to wake up Holly. And then she'd dithered at the end of the block like a moron.
A moron who took her grandfather's advice. So here she was. Vivian was still dressed for a funeral and at Jamie's apartment door, ready to apologize.
"I thought that was your bike." Ruby glared at her for a split second. "Woah, what happened?"
"Can... Would you ask Jamie if I could speak to her. For a minute."
"Seriously? You're doing some stupid dramatic grand gesture?" Ruby screwed her face up.
Vivian shook her head. "No. I just want to tell her I'm sorry I'm an idiot."
The nurse eyed her curiously. "Jamie is my best friend. She's like a sister. When I had to move out, she came with me. She's a good person and she gives people a lot of leeway."
Nodding, Vivian tried to be as serious as she could. "I know."
"She really likes you."
"I really like her." Vivian paused. She barely knew Ruby, when she thought about it. They hardly talked, and were somewhat antagonistic to each other. But they both liked Jamie. And Jamie was good people. "I don't make a lot of friends, I'm really bad at it. I don't... I don't trust people easily. But I trust her."
Ruby sighed. "You acted like an ass. You get that, right?" When Vivian nodded, Ruby went on. "Is this whole you looking like you were emotionally run over the reason why you were an ass?"
"No. It's just... It's not related." The laugh/snort snuck out. "Sorry. It's two different emotional roller coasters and they crashed head on a couple days ago."
Ruby stared at her. "Yeah. That's when Jamie said you went radio silent. Hang on."
Looking at her feet, Vivian wondered what she was going to say. Ruby seemed to be giving her the benefit of the doubt at least. She could hear them talking, and Ruby announcing she was going to stay nearby but not listen. Then footsteps. Then Jamie.
"Viv?" Jamie sounded tired and a little exasperated. "You look like leftover ass. Who died?"
It was probably just meant flippantly. Jamie was just as morbid as everyone else in Vivian's extended family. But Jamie probably didn't expect the reply. Vivian looked up and sighed. "Lily. Holly's mother."
Jamie's head snapped back, like she'd been slapped. "Oh god. Viv, I'm sorry—"
"Parlay," she blurted.
"What?" The other girl froze. "Parlay?"
"It's... It's this stupid thing Holly does. When she wants to say something and she can't phrase it nice or PC or anything. It's... It's so you can get out what you're thinking."
Jamie frowned a little. "Parlay. Okay..."
Taking a deep breath, Vivian hoped that Jamie would understand. "I'm sorry. I... I'm sorry I was a brat and yelled and then didn't call you back. I don't— I don't really know why I can't be rational about that stuff. Your parents. I mean, people are fucked up. I should know, right?" Vivian laughed, humorlessly. "I know I'm messed up, and all the shit with the bone marrow and ... And then Grandpa called and Mom..." She stopped. "Did ... Did I tell you Lily was a botanist? She did the first go of all the plants at home— Moms' house. And ... The first time I saw you, I thought about the digging we did in the garden. Your eyes. They're just ... This rush— lush, rich, deep, brown."
How could she explain all the thoughts whizzing in her head just then? That her world had imploded? Vivian wasn't a stranger to death. Her birth parents, her sister, her biological grandparents, her father's sister... Her aunt. Okay she wasn't dead yet, but she would be soon. Bill. And amid all that death, all she could concentrate on was how Jamie's beautiful brown eyes made her think of the soil and living things and nature.
Looking at her ... at Jamie, she could see the concern and confusion. Jamie didn't know what to say. Vivian barely did. And then she knew. She did know.
"There was a couple," Vivian said slowly. "Constance and Walter. Mom— Gail met them years ago. When she was a uniformed officer. They were each other's plus ones. And they told Gail that life— Life is way too short to go at it alone. I don't want to. I ... I'm sorry. Please give me another chance."
Jamie stared at her. She looked up at Vivian, seemingly at a loss. Vivian felt her stomach drop. Peck's didn't get second chances. Hadn't Gail said that? Before Holly, no one gave Gail another try. The blonde believed everyone got one major fuck up, but no second chances. And here, now, Vivian felt how horrible she'd been, what she'd said, and worst of all, that she'd attacked the one person who was in her corner all the way. And now she'd lost it.
That was it.
They were done.
But Jamie grabbed her collar and pulled her down to kiss and then hugged her close. "You are the biggest idiot," she whispered. "Did you think we broke up?"
"Didn't we?" Vivian frowned, tentatively putting her hands on Jamie's arms.
"Jesus, you are so ... No." Jamie let go and slapped Vivian's shoulder. "Christ, we had a fight, Vivian! I love you, but you are such an idiot sometimes."
"Oh." Vivian knew she was confused, and rubbed her arm. However she also caught on to that important part of Jamie's sentence. "You love me?"
Jamie rolled her eyes. "Of course you hear that... yes."
Huh. Vivian wasn't sure what to say, and managed a pathetic, "Oh."
With a piteous expression, Jamie asked, "Do you want to be broken up?"
"No!" She knew that answer right away.
"Me neither." And Jamie hugged her tight again.
Vivian snuffled back a tear. She hadn't really cried much about Lily yet. She probably would later. It was hard to know how to process those emotions and feelings. Like Holly had said, she just felt a little empty. The world felt more empty without Lily around. "Okay..."
Nodding, her face pressed tight to Vivian's chest, Jamie repeated the word. "Okay."
They stood there for a while. Slowly Vivian felt grounded again. This was right. This was good. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I don't know if I love you, Jamie. I just know I was miserable without you. I missed you. And I'm so, so sorry."
"Don't be so stupid next time," suggested Jamie.
"I'll try."
"I'm serious. Stop this running up a tree bullshit."
Vivian blinked and wanted to ask which of her mothers had mentioned that. Later. "I'll try," she repeated softly.
The firefighter sighed. "You are really crap at romance, Peck. You think my eyes look like dirt and you don't know if you love me?" Jamie pinched her side a little. "You are so fucking lucky I speak Vivian."
"You do?"
"I do." Jamie's hold lessened a little. "You're trying to say that my eyes make you think of the beautiful things in nature, and spring and growth. And you don't know if you love me because your moms sent an impossible standard and your birth parents were fucked up."
Vivian exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Yes. That." Jamie sighed and leaned into her again, a comforting presence. God. She'd missed that.
They stayed still again. "When's the funeral?"
"This morning. We did a sunrise thing at the conservatory. Spread her ashes there, since she has a whole plaque and thing with her name on it."
"That sounds nice..." Jamie trailed off and then let go to stare at Vivian, enlightenment dawning. "Vivian Stewart Peck. Did you just blow off a wake to come apologize?"
"Uh... In my defense, it was my granddad's idea?"
"Jesus Christ. Give me ten minutes and you better fucking well have your spare helmet."
Perplexed, Vivian watched her girlfriend run back into the apartment. "I think that went well," she muttered to herself.
Ruby snorted a laugh. "Yeah that went okay. Lily is...?"
"My grandmother. Holly's Mom."
The nurse nodded, understandingly. "I'm sorry."
Vivian sighed. "Lily was just ... She was awesome. When I was a kid, Holly was sick and in the hospital. Quarantine. Whole nine yards. Gail was trying to do it all on her own and Lily just dropped everything to help and be a mom."
"Huh. This is the most I've ever heard you talk about yourself."
"I try not to be interesting. People always want to know my tragic history."
Ruby narrowed her eyes. "And is it?"
"Yeah. It is."
They stood in silence for a bit. Then Ruby asked, "She told you about her folks?"
"She did."
"You tell her about whatever the fuck is wrong with yours?"
Vivian hesitated. Accurately inaccurate. "I did."
Ruby nodded. "Now is probably not the time," said Ruby, slowly. "But our lease is up soon."
Would the universe please stop giving her fucking whiplash? Vivian rubbed her forehead. "Oh?"
"I got a job offer at the women's prison in Millburne." Ruby shrugged. "It's a shitty job, except it's a foot in the door I want so..."
So Ruby was going to be leaving Toronto. And Jamie would need a roommate. Vivian nodded a little. "When?"
"Two months. Loads of time for lesbians."
"Bite me." Vivian snarled and Ruby laughed. "But... Thank you. For telling me."
Ruby grinned. "I actually like you, Peck. You're good people. Stupid sometimes, but good."
"I try," she said quietly. "Not the stupid part. That seems to come naturally."
The nurse laughed. "Don't feel bad. Everyone can be stupid."
"Jamie seems to do a good job not."
"Ask her about Dennis," said Ruby, knowingly. "She tried a grand romantic gesture after they broke up and nearly got arrested—"
"Ruby, I will pay you to shut up," snapped Jamie, dressed in black pants with a dark shirt on, pulling on a jacket. "Helmet?"
Vivian blinked and then nodded. "Um. Yes. Yes, I have the ... Yes."
"Good. We're going to pay respects to your family, who are wonderful and kind, and we are going to shelve you being an idiot for a while." Jamie walked past Vivian to the bike. "And then you and I are going to talk for real, Viv."
It felt daunting and like the biggest relief at the same time. "Okay. I can do that."
The house felt quieter once the girls left. More and more Gail realized how much of the house was filled by one more person. One specific person. And when it was a combination of Jamie with Vivian, they really went a long way to enhancing the family feeling.
That said, Brian was there. It should have made the house feel fuller, but he was still a wash of unsettled pain.
"I like her," said Brian, loading the dishwasher. Gail had given up telling him he didn't need to help out. She understood the need.
"Jamie? Yeah, she's good people."
"She's good for Vivian too. Nicer than Liv was, but I get that."
Oh right. Brian had been in town while that had been going on. He'd come to Vivian's high school graduation, shocking everyone, and making Vivian cry. "Liv was safe," said Gail, agreeing.
"Exactly. Holls had the same problem for ages. She'd date safe girls who weren't going to be serious."
Gail smiled. "Get out before anyone gets hurt?"
She heard the groan from the stairs and Holly complained. "Seriously, Gail, it's been twenty-four years!"
"Taze yourself in the eye is a hard line to top." Gail shrugged.
Holly sighed and kissed Gail's cheek. "Dad, you don't have to help clean."
"I do." Brian closed the dishwasher and turned it on. "There. Coffee? Tea? Ice cream?"
"Tea. I'll do it." Gail got up and turned on the kettle. They stood around the kitchen, quietly, as the water boiled. "Okay, this is weird, right?"
Brian laughed. "Yes, yes it is." He sighed and sat down. "This is very weird. Remember when Vivian insisted on teaching Lily how to make proper Peck tea?"
Gail smiled. "Her first Christmas with us. She was so annoyed the next year when I told her we weren't going to see you guys."
"We missed her the last couple years." The widower looked a little sad. It was a different sad. "She's a grown up now. You guys did good."
"Yeah?" Holly smiled. "It's hard to tell."
"Oh god, it's impossible when it's you." Brian laughed in a familiar way. Self-deprecating. "But I'm telling you, for real, from out here, she's good people."
"A little screwed up," said Gail. But she smiled.
"A dash damaged, just like the rest of us." Holly reached over in Gail's general direction. She didn't need to ask. Gail knew and stepped closer to touch her hand. "Thanks, Dad."
Brian nodded. "Thank you too, Holls. For letting me stay here a bit."
The hand in Gail's tightened. "As long as you need," said Holly, softer than normal.
"Oh, no. No. Holls, I'd drive you two nuts. No." Brian shook his head. "I'll go home next week. Your cousins already said they'd help me box up the house."
So that was that. "You're really selling it?" Gail had expected it, but still. "I like that house."
"It's too big for just me, Gail. And it's too Lily. I'd miss her too much in it."
Gail glanced at Holly. Would she feel the same way about this house if Holly died first? Would Holly feel that way about the cottage. "Yeah, I can see that," Gail confessed.
"For the record, Grumpy Cat, if you die first I'm giving the kid the cottage." Holly, as always, read her mind.
While Gail grinned, Brian snorted. "You two are impossibly morbid."
"We're perfect for each other, Dad," said Holly, still smiling at Gail. A real smile. A Holly smile. Oh how Gail loved that smile. The way Holly looked at her was always unlike anyone else. She wasn't wary or guarded or cautious. She was open and loving and fond. Gail would move the fucking sun to be graced by that smile.
"It's just how we are." Gail grinned and kissed Holly's knuckles before pouring the tea. "If there's anything we can do, Brian, please... You and Lily ... You treated me like family."
As one, Holly and Brian argued. "You are family!"
Gail grinned. "If you'd know my family in the day..."
Brian sighed. "I wish I'd known your father, Gail. I might have popped him one, though."
"I would have held him still for you," said Gail.
"Did you love him?" Brian looked thoughtful.
Gail blinked. Few people asked her that. "Yes. I hated his guts, I'm still pissed at him, but I loved him." To her surprise, Holly took the tea out of her hands and hugged her. "Hey. I'm okay."
"I know. I just want to hug you." Holly rested her head on Gail's shoulder.
These moments still confused Gail. But she wound her arms around her wife and held her close.
Hours later as they lay in bed, Holly resting her head on Gail's shoulder, letting herself just be held, Gail struggled to find what to say. The doctor been so quiet and withdrawn, though really Gail understood why, it was still a little disturbing. Gail wanted to ask if Holly was holding up okay. But at the same time, Gail didn't want to make things worse.
It felt like all she could do was hold her wife and be there.
If felt like it wasn't even close to enough.
Silently, Holly's fingers sought out Gail's and slipped in between them. She sighed and craned her neck to look up at Gail. "I'm okay," she said softly in the dark.
"Okay," said Gail, not sure if it was enough or the wrong word.
"I miss her."
"I think… I think we'll miss her for a long time, Holly," replied Gail carefully.
"Yeah." Holly sighed again. "Yeah we will."
The silence settled on them again. Gail gnawed her lower lip and then turned her head, pressing her cheek to the top of Holly's head.
Holly sighed a third time, but this one sounded like it was full of relief. "Thank you. For being here."
"There's nowhere else I would rather be, Holly." Her wife snorted a laugh. "Really?" Gail couldn't keep the snarl out of her voice.
"Sorry. I was thinking of you when we started dating. You were such a brat."
Gail grinned at her own memories. "You know, Brian finked on you. He told me it was his fault you kissed me in interrogation the second time."
"Ah hell." Holly laughed. "You know, Mom's advice was the interrogation room. She said it would get your guard down. Dad was the fake report and the kissing."
Snickering, Gail had to cover her mouth not to laugh. "That was the stupid part. Totally made up story, too. I thought the girlfriend was a fake for a long time."
"She wasn't a girlfriend," Holly said firmly.
Gail knew that. She'd actually met the woman a few times. "Wait, so if Lily was all for getting me back, how come she was so terrifying when I met her?"
"Well... Same reason you scared the shit out of Jamie and Vivian, I think. Mom power."
"Damn. That's a great superpower."
Holly laughed. "Isn't it?" She sighed, sounding a bit more like herself. "I think I'm going to be okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm going to miss her for a long time, probably forever, but... I see Mom in me. And you. How you take care of people, even when they're pissed at you. And Viv." Holly exhaled deeply. "Mom's still in everything."
"Especially you," said Gail, softly.
"Yeah. Especially me."
In the darkness of her apartment, Vivian listened to Jamie's breathing. They'd been fighting for weeks, and though there had been texting and avoiding phone calls and talking about it for a while, it had not been a breakup. Vivian only knew that for certain because Jamie was there, in her bed, just lying beside her, and Jamie had told her so.
She wanted to ask if they really were okay, if Jamie was only there because Lily was dead. And she couldn't ask that.
The firefighter finally sighed and spoke, as if she knew damn well Vivian was awake. "Are we okay?"
"I was trying to figure out how to ask you that," admitted Vivian.
Jamie made a noise and then turned the light on, sitting up. "Okay. Were you intentionally avoiding me?"
Ouch. Jamie never started small. "Yes." Vivian sat up and hugged her knees. "I was really pissed off and didn't want to be mean to you." She paused. "Meaner."
Jamie made a face. "So you avoided me to not be mean?"
"Yeah."
"You get how that's kinda stupid, right?"
"Yeah, that kinda clicked."
Jamie looked at her and leaned against the headboard. "I really like you. But... This. You can't keep shoving things away and dealing with them later."
Nodding, Vivian rested her chin on her knees. "I know."
To her surprise, Jamie leaned into her. "I can't claim I know how it feels," she said quietly. "But ... I get hating someone. And I get not trusting people who aren't your moms. I just ... I want you to trust me."
Very slowly, Vivian reached over and found Jamie's hand. "I do. I don't trust me."
"I do."
It was very simple. Two words. Deep meaning.
"God, Jamie. Why? I avoided you for a fucking month and a half, got stupid ass drunk and a tattoo, and ... And I showed up at your door all sad and screwed up because more people in my life died or messed me up, only this time it was someone I really loved." She exhaled loudly, totally at a loss.
"And." Jamie spoke quietly. "You told me you thought my eyes were beautiful, which no one has just for the record. And you said life was too short to go at it alone. Disjointed, yeah, but romantic." Calmly, Jamie rubbed the back of Vivian's hand.
Vivian swallowed. "I was thinking... I didn't want to spend the rest of my life wondering what might have been with you. You're one of the best things that ever happened to me."
"One of?" Jamie's voice was teasing.
It made Vivian smile. "Top two."
"That's not bad." They sat in the silence for a while. "What tattoo?"
Ouch. Vivian winced and let go, unfurling herself. She should have known Jamie would ask. "You can laugh," she said, dryly, and pulled her shirt sleeve up.
"Only if it's my name." As it was revealed, Jamie didn't laugh. She touched the tattoo softly and looked impressed. "Well that explains the long shirts. I thought you were allergic to them."
"Shirts?"
"Sleeves. You wear a lot of tank tops."
Vivian laughed a little. "I like my arms free."
"I'd noticed." Jamie tugged the shirt sleeve back down. "It's really beautiful though. What inspired that?"
"Alcohol." Vivian sighed. "Lara and Jenny dragged me out after ... While we were stupid."
Jamie smiled. "That's a good description of it. But. I know you, Peck."
"It's the ... It's the Golden Ratio. The mathematical representation of balance and aesthetic beauty."
"I'm really glad it wasn't something stupid like my name or plants."
Vivian grinned. "God, so am I. I honestly have no idea why I picked it."
"How drunk were you?" Jamie poked her ribs. "I thought it was illegal to tattoo drunk people."
"Oh, we got wasted after we agreed to the tattoos. I just… kind of don't remember before the drinking much. Lara said I was going on and on about things."
Jamie made a noise. "So you get chatty when depressed and drunk? Here I thought you just tried to make moves on me."
"I'm really never living that down, am I?" She groaned.
To her surprise, Jaime kissed the corner of her mouth. "I'm not going to let you forget it for a while, no." The firefighter smiled and rested her forehead against Vivian's shoulder.
The implication was clear. Hell the actions were clear. Jamie still wanted them to be a them. She was right there with Vivian, still willing and able to talk about things. They were still there.
Vivian hadn't ruined everything.
She exhaled, shakily, feeling relief settle inside her.
"You okay?" Jamie was quiet, almost gentle as she asked it. Tender? Yeah. That sounded like Gail and Holly in their annoyingly sweet moments.
"Better. I think."
Jamie made a noise of understanding. "Well you just had a shit-on-you parade."
A laugh escaped her and Vivian covered her mouth. "That's a good one."
"That's what Dad calls them."
Right. Because Jamie too had grown up with the angst and pain of it all. How much was this like her family. "I'm sorry if I scared you."
"Hm. No." Jamie stayed leaning on her. "You didn't really. Not ... You didn't scare me for me, you scared me for you. I knew you were hurt and I couldn't think of what to do." She sighed. "I am sorry I told you off."
"Don't be. I needed to hear it."
"Then don't be guilty about what you said about my mom," said Jamie, matter of factly. "She has some problems."
Vivian blinked. "See. That... That isn't my business. It's hers. And yours."
"Well. Yes, but you're my girlfriend and I want you to feel comfortable. Y'know, around my family." Jamie sat up straight again. "Family is really complicated. And fucked up sometimes. And ... We can be pretty screwy too."
"Yeah, we can," said Vivian slowly. "But anything wrong wrong, that's... That's their story, not us."
Jamie bobbled her head. "Kind of. Are you mad I told you about my dad?"
"God, no. That... That made sense."
"Doesn't this too?"
Ugh. Why was she talking sense? "Maybe. I don't know." Vivian grimaced and flopped back onto the mattress. "It's weird. There's stuff about Moms that's not ... I would be uncomfortable telling anyone. Even you."
Looking down at her, Jamie sighed. "It's complicated. We walk into each others lives with all these books written. The book of you and me and now... us."
"Exactly."
"I dunno. What if Mom was okay with it?"
Vivian eyed her girlfriend. "Hey, Mom, mind if I tell my girlfriend all about you? Oh.. Shit, what did you tell your parents?"
"I said you were dealing with some weird family problems and left it at that." Jamie shrugged and leaned back, resting on her elbows. "Not exactly their business."
"No. It's not." But that didn't feel quite right. "Is it?"
Jamie snorted. "Not right now. No. Maybe if we got super serious and were getting married or something, but ... That's a sleeping bear I'd rather leave alone."
"God, I wish it'd stop waking up and biting me." When Jamie laughed, morbidly, Vivian bit her lip. "I missed you," said Vivian softly. "I missed you and I was just so mad at my aunt for showing up. It's... It's not something I ever thought was a thing and then all that shit dumped on me and I couldn't figure out what was me and what wasn't and who was I and... I pushed everything just so I could feel something I understood."
"I get that," said Jamie. "Don't push me away next time, okay? Be mad, be angry, be mean, but... Let me help?"
"I'm ... I'm scared of how mean I could be."
"You're not your ... You're not your birth family, Viv."
"I don't know that." She whispered the words into the night. There. Vivian said the words that had been haunting her. Would she be like her father or grandparents or aunt?
Jamie exhaled a long, soft, breath. "I do." A hand took hers. "Even if you have that crazy shit in you, if we have it in us, we choose not to be those people. My mom's bipolar. I'm not, I don't think. But if I am, I'm sure as fuck going to listen to you if you tell me I scare you or anything. So you have to listen to me too."
"Oh." It was all Vivian could say to that. It was incredibly simple and understandable and direct. But the layers were forever.
"I'll take that as a yes." Jamie sounded rather self satisfied.
"You rarely scare me," said Vivian.
"Only when I run into buildings?"
"Only when they're on fire."
"I think that's okay. I get scared when you get shot."
"Yeah, but I actively try not to be shot," Vivian pointed out, pragmatically.
Jamie laughed. "I like that about you. You're smart."
"And an idiot. Not really a fairytale."
"No," agreed Jamie.
"No." Vivian looked up at Jamie and was surprised to see her smiling. "Why are you so happy?"
"Because I'm here. And you're not being stupid. And I'm not being stupid. And we're pretty awesome people, even if we're fucked up." Jamie laughed and lay back down, tucking her hands under her head. "Not a fairytale, but those are over rated. I'll take fractured any day."
Vivian found herself smiling back.
Going back to work was the hardest thing. Oliver had warned her that everyone else would be normal, but for her the world was changed. Because her mother was still dead.
Holly sighed and walked into the office.
Ruth looked surprised. "Boss..."
"Hello, Ruth. I cleared my emails last night."
Her secretary frowned, deeply, at her. "I didn't expect you till next week."
Holly arched her eyebrows in amusement. "So you didn't clear up the kegger?"
"Rodney has all your paper work, he's delegating most of it. Just not the personnel issues. The Medical Director's side is handling all requisitions and deployments. Trace has finally stepped up, and the rumor that I threatened them is just a rumor. I did not threaten. Also we got the shipment for the bomb re-creations, and Arson and ETF are both arguing over who would be more helpful." She paused. "So. You... Um. We all want you back, Dr. Stewart, but we want you to take the time you need."
Oh. It was disturbingly sweet and weird. "Ruth. I don't think I'm going to be 'fine' for a while. And I come from a very long line of workaholics. Including my mother." Holly smiled. "Also I might be arrested for homicide if I stay home any longer, and then who would do the cooking?"
Ruth sighed. "Your wife makes excellent cupcakes."
"I know, right?"
They both smiled. "Fine, but I'm keeping stupid requests out of your hair for a while."
"That's fine by me. Hell, you can do that all the time!" Holly grinned as Ruth's laughter followed her into her office.
There were no cut flowers, likely in deference to her public distaste of them. Someone had brought in a new potted plant, though, and placed it next to the cactus that Rodney labeled 'Gail' years ago. A potted Easter Lily. Ah. Caring hearts. Holly checked the soil as she plucked the card from the plant.
It was from her staff, signed, no message other than 'from all of us.' Those were her coworkers alright. She smiled and tucked the card away. Wasn't that the way life should be? People being nice when it was needed. How lucky was she to have such a world.
A world without her mother though.
Holly ran her fingers over the lily petals.
She'd never asked why her parents named her Holly. Her mother being Lily, she assumed it was flower or plant related. But it was one of life's mysteries she'd never cared deeply about. Lily hadn't had a middle name either. It just was what it was.
If she and Gail had named a child of their own, perhaps a flower name would have been used. Though Gail always said she'd want to name a child after Oliver if anyone. Maybe Vivian would. Or not. It was too bad Lily had never met Jamie, or any of Vivian's hypothetical children.
Too soon to think of that, though Holly was relieved to see Jamie and Vivian not just talking but being together again. After the wake, Jamie had come by for a dinner with the family, while Brian was still in town. They'd chatted and teased Vivian for being, well, Vivian, and a load was lifted off Holly's heart.
Was that how Lily had felt when Gail and Holly had gotten back together? Probably not. There was so much more in that moment, that situation, that everything, every second was agony. Gail left a void that was only filled by Gail. From what Holly understood, it had been the same for Gail.
Well. That was love. It did weird things and made a person desperately miss another, even if they'd been fighting or stupid. Her parents had struggled through that themselves. After they'd been married a few years, the whole near-divorce was a near secret. Holly wasn't sure if she'd supposed to have known about it or not, but it had been pretty obvious.
That level of fighting, uncomfortableness, had never happened after they'd married. That was just luck, probably. Everyone fought. She and Gail fought still from time to time. Two strong minded individuals were bound to clash. It was expected and normal. But the difference was that, after their first massive fight and misunderstandings, they talked. Hell, before the fought they'd talked. And even if they were always destined to be more than friends, they had been friends.
Her parents had started out as antagonists and become lovers. Maybe that was a difference? Maybe not. Brian was still wrecked without Lily. Holly knew she would be without Gail. That insane, morbid, unpredictable blonde worked her way in through the cracks and established herself as the person Holly needed most in the world.
She was Holly's person.
Smiling, Holly pulled her phone out and messaged Gail, telling her she was at work and fine. Gail's reply was a reminder of the batting cages. All four of them were going. A double date, as it were, with her daughter and her daughter's girlfriend.
That was alright.
Holly then texted her father, telling him nothing more than that she loved him.
He did not text back, though he would likely call later. Brian hated texting. In many ways, Holly understood that. It could be impersonal and distant. But she wondered if her parents had texting, the Internet, and all those methods to say 'I love you' without the words, would their relationship have been less difficult? Three words. Simple ones. Small and monosyllabic. But they were still so hard for Gail to put to voice. Even when Holly and Lily had been fighting, they still said those words regularly.
Communication.
She moved the lily plant to where it would get the most appropriate sun and sat at her desk, looking over the city a bit. Holly didn't regret anything. She didn't regret the fight with her mother even. Had they not fought, Holly suspected she'd not have been ready for what came next. The argument, the fight had helped shape her into who and what she was.
Spreading her hands on her desk, Holly smiled.
Everything she was had been shaped by her mother. Lily had guided her, let her go, and watched her run. All her achievements were because her mother taught her how to be a woman in a world of men. How to stand up for herself. How to fight. And how and when to back down.
Not to discount her father at all, because Holly adored the ground he walked on, but Lily understood the one thing Brian never could. This world, the world they lived in, was a man's world. It was built and shaped by men for men, and women were always struggling in it.
Maybe that was why Lily took it so poorly when Holly came out. Here was her daughter, already with a world set against her for her gender, taking up arms of another target. When Vivian had confessed her crush, Holly felt the air in her lungs sucked out of her. It reminded her of the time Swarek creamed her at first base.
She held onto the ball with Swaerk, and she didn't act like her mother with her own daughter.
But Holly couldn't be anything or anyone other than who and what she was. She was who she was made. Just like Gail. Just like Vivian.
And she liked who she'd been made into.
She was Dr. Holly Stewart, Chief Medical Examiner of Ontario, head of the Toronto crime labs. She was a wife and a mother. Maybe she hadn't run as far, professionally, as she might have without the wife and children. And maybe she hadn't run as far as a wife or a parent as she would have in some other profession. But she was all those things and glad for it.
Holly liked herself.
Not everyone could say that.
"Okay, folks," she said to herself. "Let's solve some medical mysteries today."
Lily dying was the plot long before I wedged Vivian and her idiocy in there.
People you love and cherish die too. Their death destroys your world for ages. Maybe years. It was over a year before I felt normal again, and I still think of it as a new normal. Thankfully I have people who love me and remind me it's okay to feel this way, and I'm not alone. I didn't start to feel happy for ages, or at least I felt guilty for being happy. Now I feel sad and happy when I remember the things she'd enjoy. It's been a few years. I still think of her daily.
Originally this was written without any Holly point of view scenes. But as I hit the end, I realized she needed to close this one out.
