Happy New Year to all of you!
Chapter's title comes from "To the sea" by Seafret. Perfect song for this chapter if you ask me.
Chapter 6 : I'm weak from everything that I'm told
"You'll have to answer me eventually," Bea points out, staring as Debbie keeps her nose buried in a book.
Bea sighs and looks through the giant window that creates the wall of the airport. Outside, the sun is high in the sky and dozens of planes are getting ready for take off. If she looks carefully, she can see a variety of suitcases being thrown carelessly inside the plane her daughter is about to board. It's huge. It's a huge machine for a long flight to the United States, where Debbie is going to spend the next few months studying.
Eight months, Bea thinks, with vacations in-between for Debbie to visit.
It should be enough for her to take care of this mess of a situation with Harry. It should be enough for her to gather the strength to leave him and ask for a divorce. It should be enough to move out and find a new place to live. It should be enough to heal and move on.
She really hopes that it's enough because she has no clue what she will do if it isn't.
She prays that she's right and that she's not sending her daughter away for nothing.
She tries not to think about the idea that Harry might murder her when she gets back home without Debbie.
"I'll write you everyday and call you just the same," Bea continues. "And you can reach me anytime, you know that."
She thinks she sees Debbie rolls her eyes, but her daughter is determined to keep her eyes fixated on the pages of what seems to be the most fascinating book in the world. Bea repeats, but she receives only silence in return.
Bea decides to wait a few more minutes. There's one hour left until Debbie needs to board, so she turns her gaze to the buzzing atmosphere surrounding them. Wherever she settles her eyes on, passengers from all over the world are rushing to their gates. Some are pulling young children with them, some are carrying the largest suitcases Bea has ever seen, some are juggling between eating and running, and some are looking around while trying to make sense of this peculiar universe.
Airports truly are unique places in the world. They know no real boundaries but possess more security guards than anywhere else. They see the purest heartbreaks and countless tsunamis of tears, but also the reunification of soulmates every day. They live outside of the concept of time. It's a place where night is day, where tomorrow is today, and where logic stops existing altogether.
She wonders where everyone is going.
It seems like they all have a goal in mind. They all know where to go. They all know where to be and who to be. They all know how to live rather than survive.
Meanwhile, she's there, staring blankly at her life and wondering where the hell she turned the wrong way.
"I know you're angry, but you'll have to-"
"Angry?" Debbie asks in disbelief, finally looking up at her mother. "You register me to a stupid American college without warning me and you tell me a week before it's time to leave. A week. Seven days. I barely had time to pack."
Bea's lips part in an attempt to explain herself, but Debbie is faster and more furious than she's ever been.
"I have a life here, unlike you maybe?" Debbie harshly asks. "I have friends. Not over there, here! And you dragged me to the airport without letting me say goodbye to dad. And you think I'm just angry? Just because dad's an asshole to you doesn't mean he is to me."
A knife made of guilt stabs Bea in the heart, and she feels it remain there, preventing her to bleed out, but gifting her with the most excruciating pain.
"You know it's not safe for you if you stay here."
Bea knows Debbie has seen Harry beat the crap out of her many times.
"He never hurt me," Debbie claims loudly, enough for a few curious eyes to focus on her. "Never. I would have been fine. You're the one who needs to leave him, not me."
Bea closes her eyes, emotions building up inside of her. She knows Debbie's right, but she's not willing to take any chances. She repeats her mantra in her head, many times.
She's doing it for her daughter. She's doing it because she has no choice left. Debbie might hate her, but at least she'll be safe. Debbie is more important than anything else in the world.
She wants to leave Harry, and if Debbie stays here, who knows what might happen. Harry is highly capable of taking her daughter away and any visiting rights she might ever wish for.
"It's temporary. Until I find a solution that works for all of us. I know it's hard, but I'm asking you to trust me."
"Why don't you trust me to stay safe instead? Why send me to another continent? I could just stay at a friend's."
"He might find you."
He will, Bea thinks. He would stop at nothing. He would kidnap her and she will never see Debbie again.
"You don't know that."
Debbie pleads her mother to reconsider, to let her stay here, where she feels safer than in a foreign land. She loves her mother, and she loves her friends, and against all odds, she loves her father too. If she leaves, she loses it all.
She wants her mother to be safe, and she knows it hasn't been easy, but her reality is different than Bea's. It's happier. It's positive. She doesn't want to give it up.
She hates that she feels like her mother is trying to get rid of her, but that's exactly how she would describe the way her heart just drops lower and lower in her chest.
"I'm sorry, Debbie," Bea murmurs sadly.
She really is. She's sorry for letting things go too far when she could have acted earlier. She's sorry for letting Harry beat the life out of her when she could have called the police. She's sorry she's scared shitless even now, so terrified that she can't simply call the police on him and put an end to all of this.
She's sorry for falling in love with such a nightmare in the first place.
She's sorry for not feeling enough.
She's sorry for letting them down.
"It's not enough," Debbie groans, her young impulsive heart not quite understanding the complexities of the situation. "I get it, mom, but I don't have to like I and I don't have to agree with you. It doesn't matter whether I forgive you or not anyway, you'll still send me away."
Bea smiles somberly, unable to blame Debbie. She would have reacted the same if she had been in Debbie's place.
They sit in silence for the rest of the hour, Bea anxiously playing with her hands as Debbie reads the same page a dozen times.
When the flight attendant calls for everyone to board the plane, Debbie stares long and hard into her mother's eyes. She finds nothing but love and regrets, and a part of her wishes she could take back the words she said earlier.
But it's too late now, and it's too painful to face her mother, and she still hurts too much to think rationally.
"So this is it," Bea smiles as wide as she can, her eyes glittering with tears.
Debbie nods, speechless.
They stand nervously together before Debbie sighs and takes a step back, ready to leave.
"I'll call you even if you don't want me to," Bea declares as her posture straightens. "I'll text you, and I'll call you, and I'll make sure to remind you that I love you. I love you to the moon and back."
Bea waits. And waits. And waits until her daughter gives in and steps closer, embracing her with all the strength she can convey. Debbie's trembling in her arms and Bea knows she's never going to forget that moment.
"I love you, mom. Be safe."
Bea swallows back the sobs and waits until Debbie's plane is high in the sky to fall apart.
She prays that this isn't the last time she sees her daughter.
She has one chance to this, she thinks, one bloody chance to make things right again.
One small, almost inexistent, chance.
Bea opens her eyes and stares pensively at the ceiling. She ignores the way her heart slightly jumps harder when she remembers who is lying next to her.
She'd thought that it would be strange to invite Allie in her bed, but now, she only has a bittersweet aftertaste in her mind. Have they crossed a line? Now that Allie's in her room, in her bed, so close but so far to her, can they really pretend to be only acquaintances who can't bear the thought of saying goodbye to one another at the end of the day?
Bea sighs quietly. She'll admit that she cares for Allie, but that's it. That must be it.
Bea refuses to call what they feel love. She can deal with the fact that Allie wants to tear her clothes apart, but should it turn out to be more, she wouldn't know how to react.
She shakes her head.
She focuses on the dream she just had. No. It wasn't much of a dream, but more of a memory. The brutal memory of the way she'd say goodbye to her daughter. She regrets it everyday, but today, the pain is sharper on her soul.
Her body is tense, and she can't seem to find a way to relax, to let the air circulate freely in her lungs again. She replays the scene in her head again and again until she learns it by heart.
She analyzes, once again, the numerous phone calls she's had with Debbie ever since that fateful day. Debbie never appeared to be particularly mad at her, or even resentful, but Bea just heard the difference. She simply heard the way her daughter grew more distant with every passing day. It doesn't matter, how many times they said 'I love you' to each other.
Something had shifted.
Something that couldn't be fixed.
Something subtle, but irreplaceable.
It never gets easier to think about it and this morning isn't an exception. She can't escape her thoughts. She can't get out of her treacherous mind. She's still as rigid as a wooden board when Allie stirs awake next to her.
She's engulfed by warm arms and caring blue eyes, but she still notices the way Allie's body shakes ever so lightly, as if it were still unsure how to react to the absence of drugs.
She absently melts in Allie's embrace.
"Good morning," Allie's raspy voice resonates in the room. "Or afternoon. I'm not sure how long we slept."
Bea immediately takes note of the absence of the taunting smell of coffee. They've missed breakfast, and Allie was probably supposed to leave hours ago.
"Shit. What time is it?" Bea asks alertly.
"Time for you to calm down and enjoy the fact that we're both still alive after last night," Allie chuckles, sinking deeper under the covers, pulling Bea along.
The events of the night rush back to Bea's mind with the force of a hurricane.
Allie, losing herself to madness.
"How are you?" Bea asks softly, absently playing with Allie's hair.
"Beside the killer headache and the fact that I probably threw up my stomach last night, I'm good," Allie answers, her everlasting grin stuck on her face. "Best night I've had in a while. You make the best pillow."
"I don't know how you can still smile," Bea frowns.
"Better smile than cry," Allie shrugs. "I have a long way to go."
"But you're sober now?"
There's hope in Bea's voice and Allie hates that she has to break it.
"If only it were that simple," Allie chuckles. "I've been through this game many times and it's never just… gone the next day, you know? My body is still trying to adjust right now. It's more subtle than last night, but I can feel it. And my mind, wow. You have no idea what I'd give for a fix. A leg, a kidney, sex, my life, you name it. It's all I think about. It's all I'll be thinking about for the next week. That is, if I can resist long enough."
Addiction still owns Allie's life, and Bea only now realizes it. She feels naïve for thinking that Allie would be perfectly fine now that the night is over, for thinking that she could change Allie's entire destiny with just a few hours at a shelter.
She doesn't know exactly what is happening in Allie's mind, but she knows it isn't quiet and it isn't gentle. It's controlling and heartless, and it wants to destroy Allie even now.
"I'll stop using," Allie declares solemnly, her cerulean eyes shining.
If she ever wants a real, honest chance with Bea, she has to stop using.
"What will stop you from going back to the drugs?" Bea asks.
"Don't ask questions you know the answer to," Allie breathes out, leaving the comfort of the bed to go to the bathroom. "You know what. You know who."
Allie walks out and Bea stares at the door for a few seconds before she looks down at her hands.
She doesn't want this.
She doesn't want this responsibility. It's too heavy, it's too dangerous and it's too painful. It's a weight she isn't ready to bear because it's poisonous. If Allie goes back to the drugs, Bea doesn't want to be left behind, blaming herself until she can't take it anymore.
Harry would do that. He'd blame her for all his drinking and his inability to stop. He'd tell Bea it was her fault that he was so messed up, that he was drowning himself into alcohol, and for a long time, Bea had believed him. She had tried too hard for too long to fix a problem that wasn't even hers to fix. She had lost her energy fighting someone else's war.
She refuses to do that for Allie, no matter how much she cares. She can't do it. She can't be the savior, the great hero when she feels powerless.
She shakes her head. Allie isn't Harry, she thinks. Maybe this time, it'll be different.
She's pale as a ghost and entertaining the idea of being the responsible one, when Allie comes back into the room, and the blonde is by her side in an instant.
"What's wrong?" She doesn't need a degree in medical science to notice how close Bea is from passing out.
"I don't want to be the reason why you don't shove crank into your veins," Bea lashes out.
Allie gazes at her silently.
"I don't want that responsibility," Bea repeats, obvious panic flashing through her eyes.
Bea has had tons of responsibilities. To look after her daughter. To please her husband. To cover the bruises. To create lies about her life. To hide the sadness in her eyes. To pretend to be someone she isn't. She's more than exhausted now.
Allie nods calmly, her mind racing through the possibilities for such a vivid reaction from the other woman. She comes to the only conclusion that makes sense: it's related to the violence she's lived.
Allie thinks carefully about her next words, aware that she could ruin everything with a single sentence.
"It's mine," she finally says. "It's my responsibility, not yours. If I take drugs, I'm the only one to blame."
"But you said-"
"I know what I said. I didn't mean-" she pauses, unsure of how to process. "You… you give me strength. Strength and hope. You give me that, but you're right, I can't put everything on you. You make me want to do better for myself. You're the spark, Bea, but it's up to me to keep my motivation alight. Before you, I didn't know what I was missing out. Now I do, and I want that. I want a better life and that won't change, whether you're here or not."
Allie means every word and it pains her to see that Bea still doesn't let her guard down. She's afraid she might have said too much, but Bea eventually gives her a small smile, and Allie feels her heart restart.
"Thank you for last night," Allie murmurs. "I know I'm not the nicest person when I'm going off the gear. Did I hurt you?"
Bea thinks of the kicks she received and the insults that came out of Allie's mouth.
Harmless. Not directed at her.
Unlike Harry's.
"No, you didn't," Bea answers with as much sincerity she can convey.
They fall into a comfortable silence, with Bea staring at nothing and Allie staring at Bea.
"Do you think Vera told the others that I was to be kicked out after breakfast?" Allie snickers once the tension is all gone. "Because I'm still here."
"I reckon she's called the cops now," Bea shrugs. "I guess you won't be around for long after all. Any last words?"
"Will you come visit me? We can make out in the visitors' room and make everyone jealous," Allie smirks devilishly. "I promise I'll make it worth your time."
Bea laughs out loud, a feeling of freedom traveling up and down her body as the tension she's felt since she woke up disappears.
"What's so funny?" Allie asks innocently. "You're the one who said I was beautiful last night."
Bea's eyes widen, and her jaw drops to the floor.
"I didn't!"
"You so did," Allie winks. "And you know what? You meant it."
Bea rolls her eyes in embarrassment. Sure, Allie looks good. Great, even. Possibly perfect.
"Even if I did, it doesn't mean anything other than… being able to see," Bea says detachedly.
She tries to prevent her cheeks from turning red, but she fails miserably as her face grows hotter.
"Why, thanks, you're not so bad yourself," Allie rolls your eyes mockingly. "I certainly never did anything suspiciously dirty while thinking of you."
"Piss off!" Bea smiles and shakes her head in disbelief.
It's easy to laugh at Allie's words.
It's easier to laugh than to deal with the fact that for the first time, she wonders how it would feel to have Allie's lips pressing on hers.
Bea groans and bumps her head against the wall.
She's sitting on her bed, her phone in her hand as she scrolls through different pictures of the current house she's interested in buying. Allie left an hour ago, claiming she had some errands to run, and ever since, Bea's been trying to find a new place to call her own.
Trying.
Her mind keeps going back to Allie.
Is she safe? Is she somewhere that's untouched by drugs? Is she back in her so-called home? Bea's thoughts are restless, and she can't block them, no matter how hard she tries. They always come back, snacking on her sanity as the minutes disappear.
She'd made Allie promise to join her this afternoon, but now, she's regretting it. She wishes she had asked the blonde to stay. It's not that she doesn't trust Allie to stay safe, it's just that she's so damn worried about her that she can't stop imagining her somewhere, unconscious with a needle in her arm, no matter how irrational that thought might be.
She believes in Allie's promise to never take another drug again, but she knows temptations can be hard to resist. It's not easy to leave a toxic relationship. Before she'd left Harry for good, she'd gone back and forth with him, giving him many chances that he hadn't deserved, putting her life in danger every single time. She'd always come back to him, thinking this time would be different, and realizing she was wrong a little too late.
She tries to go back to her quest to find a new place to live. She needs a place big enough for her and Debbie, far enough from her previous neighborhood, and recent enough to last a few years. As she swipes through the many choices, she feels something bubbling in her stomach.
Harry doesn't have to leave. Harry doesn't have to search relentlessly for a new place to live. Harry doesn't have to find a place based on dozens of criteria because he's afraid for his safety. Harry doesn't have to worry about whether he'll have a home by the end of the month. Harry doesn't have to deal with a nearly empty bank account because his partner controlled him economically.
It isn't fucking fair, and she feels angrier by the minute.
Someone knocks on her door, and she swallows the frustration away.
"Yes?"
"Can I come in?"
She recognizes Will Jackson's voice.
"Sure."
She doesn't know much about Will.
She's seen him a few times in the shelter. He's always talking to the kids or making sure everything is fine with the mothers, but he doesn't spend much time with those who don't have children. He would ask her how she is, but that's all there is to their previous interactions. She doesn't mind. She's known since day one that he's there to work on the relationship between children and their parents.
As a man, he has an important responsibility with the children, most of which are constantly asking what happened to their father.
"I heard that you wanted to see me?" He asks curiously, sitting on the chair while Bea stays on her bed. "How are you?"
For security reasons, he leaves the door open, but keeps his tone low so his words aren't heard by the entire house.
"I'm good. And I did," Bea nods, fiddling with her hands. She knows of the strict rules of this place, and she hopes that her request won't be denied. She has no idea how Will might react, because she hasn't spent time with him, and she's nervous. "I have a daughter."
Will's surprised expression lets Bea know that the social worker had no idea about it. His smile softens as he motions for Bea to continue.
"She's studying abroad, but she'll come back next week. I was wondering if she could come here to live with me while she's on vacation. I know that it's against the rules to just bring someone here, but I'm assuming you know my situation. I don't want her to go back."
Will sighs loudly and nods once, signaling that he's thinking about Bea's request. He glances at the various pictures on the wall before he turns back to her.
"Like you said, it's against the rules. You can't disclose our address to anyone that wasn't with you when you arrived here, unless it's planned. This wasn't planned. I didn't even know you had a daughter."
"I thought I'd have a place by now," Bea admits. "I thought I could just move and ask Debbie to join me, but it looks like I'll be here for a while. I can't seem to find a good place. Please."
"I can't answer for now," Will replies gently, torn between his desire to help Bea and his need to respect the security protocols. "I have to consult my team, but I'm telling you now, you might want to search harder for this new place of yours."
There's a delicacy in Will's tone that reassures Bea despite the absence of a positive answer.
"I'm trying to find a place. I'm actively searching, I don't want Debbie to come to this place. It's intimidating and it's just hard to accept that this is where I am now."
"I understand, Bea. I do," Will insists when Bea glances at him doubtfully. "How are things between you and Debbie?"
Bea thinks of her dream. Her memory. The shift.
"They could be better," Bea replies sourly. "But it's not so bad. We won't cause any problem, if that's what you're worried about."
"It's not why I'm asking. I'm genuinely curious about how things are between the two of you. It can't be easy to be in this situation."
"It isn't, but we'll get through it. We've gone through worse," Bea says strongly, convinced. "I don't need advices, I just want to know if she can come here if I don't have a place by then. I swear I'll search day and night, but if I can't find a place, I don't want to send her back unless I go with her. And we both know, I can't go back."
Will nods, reading between the lines. He usually lets the women come to him with the problems, rather than push his opinions on them, unless it's a life-threatening situation for the children.
"I can't promise anything," he repeats. "I have to consult my team and I'll get back to you with an answer as soon as I can."
Bea feels her chest tightens.
Harry doesn't have to deal with all this crap, she thinks as anger boils back in her blood.
Will notices Bea's change of behavior the second it happens. He's trained for this. He's worked many years here and not many things can be hidden from his eagle eye.
"You're angry," he states. "Was your ex-husband violent towards your daughter?"
"No," Bea says through gritted teeth. "But she knows. She saw things."
Bea remembers the first time her four years old daughter had looked up at her, asking her why her arms were turning blue. It had broken her heart and to this day, it still hurts to think about it.
Will makes a mental note to read Bea's file. He tries to avoid reading the files he's not directly involved in, but in this situation, he might just need to make an exception.
"Witnessing violence is also a form of domestic violence," Will explains. "Debbie might never have been hit, it doesn't mean there were no consequences for her either. Children, no matter how young they are, will remember everything they see and hear."
He pauses when Bea throws a glacial look his way.
I fucking know it is written in Bea's eyes as the woman refuses to let him in further.
"I'm here if you have any question. I'll talk to my team, but you should know that we will need your full cooperation if we accept. That means, you'll meet me, and we'll talk about this. If you don't agree, you might as well tell me now."
"I'll wait then," Bea mutters. "Until you have an answer for me."
Will smiles in amusement.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?"
Bea shakes her head negatively.
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson."
"I'll see you as soon as possible," Will answers as he leaves the room.
When he's gone, Bea's back on her phone, barely blinking as she searches through different websites for an apartment she could rent.
She searches until her eyes hurt and until her fingers are numb, and by the time Maxine knock on her door to let her know it's time to go outside, she's beaming with a dozen saved links and options.
The ocean is endless before her eyes. It stretches towards the horizon and it seems infinite, impossible to cross. It shines with a vibrant blue as the sun thrives brightly above her head. It's hard to imagine that she won't drown if she swims along with the currents. She also finds it difficult to believe that within its waves live some of the most dangerous animals on the planet.
The white foam that forms at the shore tickles her feet when she dips her toes in the water. She sees the tiniest fishes moving around her. The salted water is cold, but not enough to scare her back to the group. She thinks she hears Boomer calling her name, but she ignores it, needing a moment for herself.
She closes her eyes and leans her head back. Her feet sink slowly in the sand as the water comes and goes. The sun is warm on her skin, but she gets goosebumps from the occasional brush of lukewarm wind. The ocean makes her feel smaller than she's ever been, and suddenly, her worries don't feel so terrible anymore.
She only arrived a few minutes ago, but she feels like she could stay here for years, bathing in the salted air and the sound of the ocean. She feels like she could dive underwater and never come out, and she might just be fine with becoming a mermaid.
She listens to the children's laughs, to the surfers trying to ride the waves, to the voices of many strangers, and to the sea's symphony. It puts a smile on her face.
Right here and right now, she feels like she doesn't owe anything to anyone, like she's shedding from her old skin and stepping into a new one.
"Bea, come help us with this thing!"
She leaves the water and turns around with her eyes wide open. Maxine's gesturing at her to come back on dry land as Franky scowls at the simple diamond kite in her hand. It's supposed to be an afternoon out for the women of the shelter, but Franky being herself, she'd decided to join the activity.
"We can't make it fly," Boomer pouts when Bea joins her. "Stupid thing won't do its job."
They're standing at a peaceful place on the beach, where they have plenty of space to talk freely about what occupies their mind.
"It's broken," Franky argues. "It has to be! I've done the whole thing right! It's supposed to be flying now."
"Patience, love, you'll be fine," Maxine smiles softly. "What would Bridget say?"
Franky sighs sadly.
She misses Bridget. She hasn't seen her since she left the shelter and her next appointment is still a week away. She's dying to hear her voice. It's stupid, but she's gotten attached, and now it's too late to go back, too late to ask for her heart back when it comes to the blonde psychologist. She's tried calling her, but Bridget had made it very clear that she couldn't just call without a solid reason.
According to Franky, wanting to talk about the weather was an excellent reason, but Bridget had simply laughed and repeated that she'd see her in a week.
Franky starts fiddling with the kite again, running around and letting it float a few centimeters in the air without making it fly higher. She manages to let it go up a few meters before she trips and falls ungraciously in front of her friends, bringing the kite down with her.
"Maxine?"
Maxine takes the kite gently and examines it before she motions for Boomer to help her. Boomer walks farther and throws the kite in the air, hoping it will fly as Maxine pulls the cord. It seems to work until the kite falls abruptly in the sand. They try again, and a third time, until Boomer raises her hands in the air in disbelief.
"Can't do it," she groans.
She shakes her head and shoves the kite in Bea's hands.
"Your turn," she says. "We've all tried."
"I- I don't know about that," Bea stammers as she looks at the foreign object in her hands. "Why do we even have a kite?"
"It was my father's. I always bring it when I come here," Franky shares. "It's just a way to remember him."
"I've never flew one of these before."
"You've got a kid?! How have you not?" Franky mocks. "Did you give her a childhood?!"
The last sentence rings loud in Bea's head. She's thankful for Franky's boldness, for the way the dark-haired woman never treats her differently, but the words still sting.
"We never went to the beach," Bea admits shyly. "It wasn't something we could do."
Franky nods once and grabs the kite back.
"Alright, let's not think about things we can't do. We're here to just have fun!" she smiles widely. "What do you do for fun, Red?"
Bea opens her mouth to answer when she realizes she doesn't know the answer to this question.
She doesn't do fun. She can't remember the last time she went to the beach just to hang out with other people. She used to love it, to love the scent of the sea and the walks on the sand, but Harry had stopped her from going when he'd seen her talking too much to other people. He'd yelled at her and told her she was a whore for walking around in a swimsuit.
He had ruined it for her.
"You tell me," Bea shakes the memory away. "What do we do for fun?"
Franky's answer comes automatically, like she just knew Bea would ask her.
"Well, first, you put a smile on your face," Franky grins wickedly. "Second, you stand like your puppy's still alive." She crosses her arms on her chest, tilts her head towards the sky, and poses extravagantly like an Olympian goddess, sending a quick wink toward Bea.
Bea's shoulder is lightly push by Maxine, and she finds herself already feeling better in the company of the women who taught her to love her life again. Maxine's eyes shine with joy, and Bea is almost fooled into thinking that the cancer's gone. But there is an everlasting tiredness in Maxine's features and Bea's heart aches when she notices it again.
"And third," Boomer tells her, "the last one's in the water buys everyone ice cream! Except Maxie because… well… whatever."
She sprints in direction of the sea, spraying sand everywhere as she runs as fast as she can. She nearly falls when she reaches the water, but she catches herself just in time. She gestures with energy for the others to join her.
Franky lets out a loud war cry as she runs right behind, yelling profanities as she gets closer to Boomer. As soon as she reaches the water, she tackles Boomer and both women lose their balance as they crash into the waves.
"What about our clothes?" Bea worries out loud.
"They'll dry," Maxine answers with a laugh. "Now come on, unless you want to spend all your money on Boomer's ice cream. She takes every flavor and it'll cost you."
"You can't be serious?"
"You really want to find out? No, you don't."
Maxine takes Bea's hand and gently jogs to the shore, dragging Bea behind. Bea tries to slow down as much as possible for Maxine's sake, but it becomes clear that the taller woman has no intention of slowing down, and they soon find themselves standing by Boomer's side.
The cold bites Bea's legs, but she doesn't care, not when Franky suddenly appears behind her and sends water flying all over her back. Bea gasps at the way her shirt turns to ice, but she can't help the smile that appears on her face.
She feels like she's five years old again and she absolutely loves it.
"You're gonna regret that," she bites the inside of her cheek. She throws herself at Franky and squeals, actually squeals, when they both fall into the water and the taste of salt takes over her mouth.
The thought of keeping her clothes dry is long gone and she pushes and pulls at Franky's arms, spraying her with water and thriving under Boomer's loud cheers. Franky replies by grabbing a fistful of wet sand and dropping inside Bea's shirt, eliciting a loud scream from Bea.
They fight for dominance, Bea trying to push Franky's head underwater, and Franky trying to stop laughing for long enough to escape Bea's hands. It takes a few seconds, but Franky resists and moves her leg behind Bea's knee, making the other woman lose her balance and fall over.
"You were saying?" She smirks, shaking her soaked hair away from her face. "That all you got, Red? I'm disappointed."
"Oh yeah?" Bea grins. "You haven't seen anything yet!"
She runs away a few meters and casually stays there as Franky eyes her suspiciously. Then, without warning, she suddenly races back to Franky like a bullet. She harshly crashes into Franky and sends them both to the ground where they get swallowed by the ocean. They manage to grasp for air and reach the sand before Bea pins Franky down with a victorious smile. The smallest waves are still high enough to make Franky flinch whenever one reaches her face and burns her eyes.
"Who's the winner?" Bea declares loudly for everyone to hear.
Franky keeps her mouth shut, determined not to say a word. She winces when another wave hits her, but she's stubborn and even when Bea doesn't make any movement to release her, she keeps her lips together.
"Damn, Franky," Boomer whistles. "You got your ass kicked."
"Shut up, Booms," Franky groans. "I can totally get back up."
She tries to stand up, but Bea won't budge. She tries again, harder, even trespassing the limits as she kicks Bea's sides harder than she means to. Bea flinches, but doesn't move. If anything, it encourages her to keep her strong hold on Franky.
"Who won?" Bea nearly sings as pride fills her eyes.
Franky exhales loudly, annoyed at the fact that she just lost, but mostly blissful for the way Bea seems to enjoy herself. Ever since her first meeting with Bea, she had known it would be hard to get past her defenses.
Today is one of the rare times she feels like she sees Bea without her armor on. She wouldn't trade that sight for the world.
"You did," she reluctantly says.
"Can't hear you," Bea grins.
Franky bites her lips before she speaks again, louder.
"You won."
"Ha! Hear that?" Bea triumphs, glancing at Maxine and Boomer, "I won."
She releases Franky, not before shoving her playfully one last time against the sand.
"Queen Bea," Franky smirks when she stands again. "You still arrived last in the water, so you owe us ice cream."
She walks in the water to wash away the sand, and Bea does the same.
"Now, Franky, I believe we arrived at the same time," Maxine interrupts. "We'll pay together."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Bea says. She knows she isn't the richest person on this beach, but she also imagines that the cost of Maxine's treatment must be draining the woman's bank account. "I'll get it."
"Nonsense! I'm coming with you and that's final." Maxine insists. She takes Bea's hand and starts walking toward the nearest ice cream stand, a few meters away on the beach.
Bea quickly mentally notes Franky's order and follows Maxine. The sand is hot under her feet and the sweet warmth coming from the sun above is enough to make the coldness of the ocean disappear.
She walks in silence for a minute. She can't remember the last time she felt so carefree. Sure, she's felt some powerful emotions recently, whenever she's met with Allie, but this is different.
This is personal. This is about herself and how she lives her life when she isn't enchanted by Allie's presence. This is about the way she laughs when Allie isn't around to make her laugh, or the way she loves herself when Allie isn't around to remind her that she's worthy of love. She wants this feeling to last forever.
She hopes that she can find this feeling again, once she's back in the city and the sea belongs to someone else.
"You didn't have to come with me," she says softly to Maxine.
"I wanted to. I've never seen Franky so helpless before," Maxine chuckles. "You really gave her a lesson that she isn't invincible."
"Good. Maybe that'll help with that huge ego of hers," Bea laughs. "You think she'd hurt me if I got her the wrong flavor by mistake?"
"Would it really be a mistake or are just more evil than I anticipated?"
"I guess you'll never know," Bea ends lightly.
Maxine hums and looks ahead. The ice cream stand is just a minute away, but she stops walking and turns to face Bea. The wind rushes around her, making the corners of her bandana fly and disclose her short hair to the world. She feels self-conscious, like she's never going to be a separate entity from cancer, and it physically hurts her when she parts her lips to speak again.
"I went to see my doctor," she starts when Bea looks at her attentively. "Chemo isn't enough."
Bea feels the happiness slowly vanishing from the world. Suddenly, the sun isn't warm enough and the sea doesn't feel like her friend anymore. It feels like a bomb has gone off, and its smoke is clouding the sky.
It feels cold, and not the same kind that made her shiver when she walked into the water. It feels like the night is here, and it will never go away.
"He says that it's not enough and that the cancer's still there in both breasts. I need to have a double mastectomy," Maxine whispers like the words are too violent to be said loudly.
"Oh, Maxie, I'm so sorry," Bea murmurs. She wishes she knew what to say, but the words are escaping her and no matter how hard she seeks them, they never come back.
"It's the hardest decision. I can't just… cut off my breasts. It's who I am and it's all being taken away from me," Maxine struggles to speak as tears shine in her eyes.
Bea inhales slowly.
She doesn't know how to react. There's no class that taught her about the proper reaction or the right things to say when her closest friend is learning that she might not make it out alive after all. There's no rule to follow or way to shut down her sorrows at Maxine's confession. She can only take it all and try her best to not let it kill her too.
"I don't know what I'm going to do. I haven't told the others yet," Maxine admits. "It's too hard. Just thinking about Boomer's reaction, can you imagine? She'll be devastated."
"She'll want you to do what's best for you."
"I can't tell them that I don't want the mastectomy. They'll kill me before the cancer does," Maxine insists. "I know it's selfish to think like that. To say that I want to keep the parts of me that will end my life, but I fought for so long to be who I am. I fought for so long to get the hormones, to get the body I needed. I've had my own family turn on me. I've had my ex-boyfriend cut my hair while I was sleeping because he couldn't love the real me."
Bea listens, lips slightly parted, and heart wide open.
"That's why I ended up at Wentworth. No one wanted me. No one wanted to use my name. No one wanted to listen to me. Everyone left. It was like I was never born."
In that moment, Bea wishes she could take all this pain off Maxine's shoulders and carry it herself. No one, she thinks, no one should have to go through this.
No one should have to suffer for being themselves.
"Today's the last day I can keep it a secret. I must decide as soon as I can, and I don't know how to tell the others. I don't want to break their hearts."
"You do what you need to do to survive," Bea simply says. "You trust them to take care of their own heart while yours heals."
She's never given much thought about death.
She's always thought that if she focused too much on death, that Harry would know it and kill her.
She's never feared her own death, because she's always found a way to escape it.
Whenever Harry hurt her, she would rest and try to heal her body as much as she could before the next hit came.
And now, she fears death, not her own, but Maxine's, and everyone else's. She can't imagine what a world without Maxine would be like. She can't imagine going through the shelter's hall without seeing Boomer. She can't think of the awful silence she'd have to face if Franky suddenly stopped existing.
And there's no way she could ever smile again in a world without Allie.
"What if I don't get the surgery?" Maxine asks with a voice so low that Bea has to move closer to her to hear the words.
"Then you don't get the surgery. But is that really what you want?"
Maxine seems to think about it deeply before she sighs.
"I wish I wanted to stay alive," she confesses, "but I don't. Not like this. I wish I didn't know I was dying, so I could go back to who I was. Everything changed when I learned I had cancer. Suddenly, laughing was different. Smiling felt different. Breathing… I've never been so self-conscious of the fact that I was breathing. I started to question every choice I made because I wanted to have no regrets left. I changed completely."
Maxine smiles like she knows she's come to the end of her road.
"Imagine if someone told you that you were dying. What would you do?"
Bea remain quiet, unable to find an answer.
"Bea, I felt like I was dying everyday for most years of my life. Hiding who I was, pretending to conform to the world, accepting that I was a freak, it all felt like death to me. But I still walked on because I knew that it wasn't really over. I knew that no matter how I felt, at the end of the day, I would still be here and I could still win this cruel game. I knew I had a choice."
Maxine shakes her head sadly.
"And now, I don't have a choice anymore."
Maxine pauses, and Bea stops breathing for a moment as a tear escapes her eye.
Traitorous tear.
Maxine takes Bea's hand softly.
"I never wanted to die, even when I was at the lowest point in my life. But if death is being forced on me, I want to do it on my terms. I want to spend whatever days I have left as myself. I'm done letting other people decide for me."
"I'll help you," Bea whispers. "You won't be alone in this. I won't let you."
"I appreciate it, love," Maxine sighs, her eyes lost in the distance. "I just wanted to tell you first. So you can help Booms and maybe even Franky, if she'll let you."
Bea nods silently, accepting Maxine's plead. She thinks there's no way Franky would ever accept help, but she'll try. She'll try as hard as she can, even if it means breaking Franky's walls with a metaphorical hammer.
"Now," Maxine puts her mask back in place. "What kind of ice cream were you thinking of getting for Franky?"
When they return to Franky and Boomer, ice cream melting all over their hands, Maxine is laughing at a snarky remark from Bea. Franky snatches one cone from Maxine's hand and rolls her eyes when she notices they got her order wrong. She doesn't mind though, because Maxine's found a way to pick her second favorite, and with the heat hitting her head, she isn't about to complain. Beside her, Boomer beams at the mix of colors that is piled up on a small sugar cone and quickly digs in.
They sit on the sand and bask in the sun, waiting for their soaked clothes to dry. It's easy to forget where they come from, what they have been through, and anyone looking at them would see nothing more than a couple of friends enjoying an afternoon at the beach.
Bea can't quite put her mind at ease, even when they all wear easygoing expressions on their faces while they eat their treats. Maxine's words are playing on repeat in her mind and she can't focus on anything else. She knows tomorrow will hit hard on all of them. She knows she'll have to be strong, but it'll be messy, and it might just destroy them.
She thinks she might suffocate.
"Bea," Maxine calls. "Your friend's here."
Bea looks up, only to feel her lips curve up when she notices Allie walking towards them.
Allie always appears when she needs her most.
"So this is what you look like when the sun shines down on you," Allie declares, sitting next to her favorite person.
"Disappointed?"
"Quite the opposite," Allie licks her lips hungrily, her eyes shifting from Bea's eyes to her tongue swirling around the melting ice cream. "I told you I'd you again in the afternoon. So here I am. Can't believe you got wet before I got here though... I missed the fun."
Bea turns red, and Franky won't let a good opportunity slips from her fingers.
"No lover of yours, eh Red?" Franky laughs. "Are we finally going to know your name or what?"
"I'm Allie. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but you did threaten to hurt me last time I saw you."
Bea's fist hits Franky shoulder.
"You did?"
"Just looking out for my girls," Franky shrugs.
"Franky's a softie," Boomer says in-between two licks of her previous cone, "she just doesn't want us to know."
"Well thanks, Booms, now everyone knows! But for the record, that's a lie. I'm not a softie. I'm a beast. And you did just show up in the middle of the night, what was I supposed to do?!"
"The first time you met me, you invited me in your room," Bea deadpans. "It was the morning after I'd just arrived."
"Well, she was obviously going into your room, Red! I'm not going to steal someone else's love. I'm a gentlewoman."
Bea laughs along with the others at Franky's poor attempt to explain herself, but her eyes stay on Allie. She feels the familiar feeling bubbling in her stomach. It's like butterflies, except a thousand times stronger.
Thoughts of Maxine's illness shift to the back of her mind, not gone, but dulled by Allie's presence, as if Allie knew exactly when to arrive to allow Bea to enjoy the present again.
Gosh. She feels like a freaking teenager experiencing her first love, and the fact that it's the first time they see each other in the middle of the day doesn't help. The sun reflects on Allie's blonde hair and the deep blue of her eyes captures Bea's soul.
"This is Franky, Boomer and Maxine," Bea introduces, trying to make sense of everything she's feeling.
"And you are Bea's secret lover," Franky repeats with a smirk. "I have to say, I knew Bea had it in her, but I didn't know you'd be her type. I thought she'd found a bit of Franky replacement, but you're nothing like me!"
Bea buries her head in the palm of her hands.
"Well, I'm not complaining about that," Allie smiles like she just won the lottery.
"We're not… it isn't like that," Bea groans, still hiding behind her hands.
Franky raises her hands in surrender, a mocking look on her face.
"So you're friends?" she asks, half serious.
"Friends, right," Boomer snickers. "Friends who want to get in each other's pants," she whispers to Maxine.
Maxine doesn't say anything, but her eyes twinkle at the duo. Bea might not realize it, but Maxine sees the way she lights up under Allie's stare.
Allie leans forward to steal a bite from Bea's ice cream, but she can't even reach it, as Bea shoves the cone in her face. Bea laughs when the blonde lets out a high-pitched cry when her nose gets covered with ice cream. Allie wipes the ice cream away and grins widely when Bea tries to get her again. She manages to dodge Bea's attacks for a few seconds before Bea changes her strategy.
Bea drops the whole thing on top of Allie's head in a smooth movement.
"You're insane!" Allie yelps. "You're wasting ice cream!"
"I'm having fun," Bea states, her smile mirroring Allie's. "Come on, don't you want a shampoo made of chocolate and raspberry? Franky, give me yours!"
"No fucking way, get away from me!" Allie gets up and jogs away, soon followed by Bea.
"Children," Boomer hums when the two women splash around in the water. "They're children."
Franky nods absently. If she hadn't seen it herself, she never would have believed it. Bea Smith never ceases to surprise her.
She'd notice the exchanged glances between Maxine and Bea when they'd come back with the sweet treats. She hadn't said anything, but she sees everything and notes everything in her head. She isn't blind enough to miss the way Maxine's smile has faltered since she came back.
"You okay, Maxie?" she asks, knowing that she probably won't receive any answer in return.
"Of course, she is," Boomer protests loudly, almost insulted by Franky's question. "Right?!"
When Maxine simply nods at them in a reassuring way, Franky lets it go. Whatever it is, she knows she must give Maxine enough time to think this through. She doesn't stop worrying, but she directs her eyes to the water.
Allie is trying to wash her hair in the sea when Bea joins her, a smile tattooed on her face.
"Who knew you were so mean," Allie grins.
"I'm a hairdresser, I was simply doing my job," Bea answers slyly.
"You were trying to get me wet, I get it! It looks like you got what you wished for," Allie winks. Her white t-shirt is dripping, and her dark blue bra is popping from underneath. Bea tries her best to advert her eyes, but she stares.
She stares for a small three seconds, and Allie will never forget it, will never forget that satisfying feeling that makes her entire body buzz under Bea's eyes.
"Like what you see?" she takes a step closer.
Bea remains silent, but the shy smile that creeps on her face tells Allie everything she needs to know.
"I don't like the feeling of clothes sticking to my body," Allie declares innocently, pulling her shirt above her head and trying to take it off.
Bea nearly loses her mind right this moment. Drops of water dripping down Allie's cleavage and disappearing between her breasts. Pale skin shining under the light of the sun and stretching beautifully as Allie's arms move higher. Hint of strong abs being revealed as the shirt is slowly being removed.
"Stop it! Everyone can see you," Bea interrupts hesitantly, her hand reaching for Allie's forearm, preventing the blonde from continuing further.
The coldness of Bea's hand surprises Allie, and it sends delightful shivers all over her body.
"So? It isn't different than a swimsuit," Allie shrugs in amusement, unable to hide her smile at Bea's complete embarrassment. She lowers her shirt back slowly. "Don't like to share? Want me all to yourself?"
Bea shakes her head, unsure of what message she wants to convey. She wishes she could sink in the sand until she reaches the center of the Earth. Maybe then, she'll be free from these feelings that keep taking her heart in hostage. Maybe she'll finally stop blushing and staring and acting like a madwoman every time Allie is around.
Allie dares Bea to say something, but if Bea can barely breathe, how is she supposed to speak?
Allie takes another step closer until there's no space left between them. If she moves closer, they might never be apart again. She ignores the wind, which is growing stronger around them and howling in their ears, and she never lets her eyes leave Bea's.
If she breaks this contact, she'll never forgive herself, especially now that Bea seems to be as hypnotized as she is.
She's sober now. She's sober, and fully aware of how much she wants to kiss Bea. She's fully aware that if she gives in to this urge, this craving she's had since day one, it will mean something now. It won't be a meaningless touch or a soon-to-be forgotten collision between their worlds. It'll be so much more.
She asks permission with her eyes because she's too busy licking her lips to open her mouth.
She waits what feels like a million years until Bea silently answers, silently ends Allie's agony.
She moves imperceptibly closer and Bea stands still, nervously waiting, wanting, needing Allie.
Bea wishes she could stop time.
Right now, just before they connect. It doesn't matter if she gets a dozen sunburns or if her body suffers from the salted air. All she cares about is that addicting feeling of anticipation. All she cares about is Allie, whose presence makes Bea believe that summertime will last forever.
A wave crashes into them.
A literal, glacial, violent wave that comes from the deepest parts of the sea.
This fucking ocean, Allie curses mentally when she loses her balance and falls to the ground. Of course. She should be so lucky. By the time she dries her eyes and coughs the salt away, Bea is already retreating, shielding herself away from Allie.
And Allie lets her, like she always does, because she wants Bea to be ready for this, and Bea isn't anymore.
This stupid, useless piece of shit ocean, she thinks again.
"Are you feeling better?" Bea asks when they get out of the water.
Her heart is pounding in her chest and she's sure it isn't from the sudden wave. She can't seem to calm it down as it catapults higher and harder inside her chest.
"Perfect," Allie ironically answers. "Just what I needed, a cold shower."
Bea rolls her eyes.
"I meant about the absence of gear and all that."
"Not gonna lie, I still feel like I'm dying," Allie chuckles.
Her head is dizzy, and her heart feels like it's struggling to beat, and her lungs are about to give up under the physical effort it takes her to resist moving closer to Bea again.
Her eyes are burning from how bright the sun is, but she refuses to blink more than she needs to, afraid she'll miss too much of Bea.
Afraid that if she blinks, she'll open her eyes to realize that she's imagined all of this.
Bea trips on the sand and clears her throat at Allie's choice of words.
"Are you alright?" Allie is quickly by her side, offering her arm for support.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Bea quickly answers. "I got distracted."
Distracted by Maxine's words, by Allie's withdrawal, by whatever was going to happen between them just now, by her own insecurities and by the fact that she can't ever get a break, even on a paradisiac beach.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Bea smiles. "Thanks."
"No worries. So… you missed me yet?"
Bea laughs out loud.
"I'm afraid you weren't gone long enough for me to miss you."
Allie shakes her head and sees through Bea's lies, but it's become a game now, and she answers with a smile. One day though, she'll get Bea to say the words.
"Well, I sure missed you," Allie admits. "I've been thinking about you all day."
"You've been with me half the time."
"Doesn't matter. Believe it or not, I just can't get enough of you."
Bea blushes just enough for Allie to notice it. She doesn't offer any answer. She just nods at the sand and pretends to count every single grain, hoping it'll distract her from the overwhelming sensation that she might pass out at any given moment.
"You know, I've been thinking, maybe I should go visit Kaz."
They walk back to the group where Franky is still trying to get her kite to fly. She swears and yells at the inanimate object, and Boomer tries to help, only to make things worse.
"Kaz? Are you sure?"
"I want to wait until I'm really off the gear, but yeah, I'd like that. She has contacts and she can help me find a place to stay other than the streets. I don't know if she'll want to, but it's worth a try. I don't want to go back to where I was," Allie bites her lips, "that's where I'll be more at risk of relapse."
"What contacts?"
"They're good, don't worry," Allie assures Bea. "The Red Right Hand… even if the screws messed with us, we're still a family."
This Red Right Hand group doesn't inspire much trust to Bea, but she takes Allie's answer as it is.
"I thought about that too, what would happen if you were to go back there," Bea admits. "I don't want you to go back. Franky's left. Maybe they'll take you at Wentworth."
"I don't think so. They won't let me in again, knowing how it went down last time."
"We don't know that. We have to try," Bea insists. "We did it last time."
Allie admires Bea's persistence, but she doesn't allow herself to hope. Not yet.
"Already trying to replace me, Red?" Franky chimes in. She's holding the string in one hand and tries to make the kite fly by throwing the other end up in the sky. She'll be damned if she leaves the beach without succeeding.
"There's only one Franky Doyle, that's for sure," Bea replies. "I won't replace you. You can't be replaced."
Franky acts like she isn't affected by the answer, but she glows at Bea's words.
"Now if only I could make that shit fly," she mutters as the kite, once again, lands flatly in the sand.
Allie jumps next to her and takes the kite off her hands.
"Let the expert do it," she declares when Franky looks at her like she's insane.
She walks farther and waits for the wind to pick up. She has a serious look on her face. She wants to impress Bea. It's ridiculous, and it's childish, but she wants to impress Bea by flying this diamond kite higher than it's ever flown before. She doesn't have many skills, but she knows how to control the air to make any kite fly. It's one of her secret talents.
She knows everyone's eyes are on her when she manages to make the kite float a few meters high. She waits until she feels the string tense in her hands before she loosens her grip and frees a few more inches. The kite jumps in the sky, joining the blue firmament and tracing lines amongst the clouds.
Allie lets out a laugh.
She's done it. She's about to turn around to face the other women, but she doesn't need to. They've joined her, in awe of this small accomplishment that makes their hearts beat in happiness. They've joined her, and Allie feels like she will never have to stand alone again.
Bea is by her side, ecstatic and looking at the sky like she's discovering it for the first time.
Franky claps and even adds a few whistles to share her joy.
Boomer cheers, jumps and calls out every person on the beach to look up at the kite.
Maxine's smile is immortal.
They are unbreakable.
Thanks for reading! :)