Double update! Go back to 52 to stay on track! Usual disclaimers.
September 30
"I didn't expect you today."
"I was in the neighborhood."
"I was under the impression that you didn't live around here."
"I had a yoga class."
Jerry smiled.
Jane rolled her eyes.
October 4
Dear Jane,
I went to your apartment today. I know, it's your space, and I promised not to push, but I went for something specific. And I really didn't think you'd be there. Not since you erased all of the files WGT had, for good this time. You told me two days ago that we were free, for lack of a better term.
I disagree. I don't think we'll ever be free of what they did to us.
I know what you're thinking. A lot of it was us. It was. I know that now. I didn't want to know it, didn't want to face the fact that I had a hand in screwing us over. But like you said, ours are not lives lived smoothly. They never have been. And the people didn't deserve it, but I still resent that unholy corporation. I know we can't go after them, can't take them down plant by plant or anything. There are too many decent people who rely on their various departments for income, for insurance, for a whole lot of things that I wouldn't have thought about before. There's this huge trickle-down to every action, and I'm tired of my actions being so destructive.
You remember when we first connected? Not talked, but well and truly connected? I was on a swing, outside of the cabana on St. John. I told you I wanted to get out. And I still do. I want out of it. The dangerous bits anyway. I know the lifestyle will always follow me, that I have skills I don't want to waste, and I do, admittedly, like the adventure of it.
They aren't exactly superpowers, not like yours… but maybe I want to use what power I do possess for good instead of bad.
It was good to see you, Jane. The video-chat had a poor connection, but you're still as beautiful as ever. I got what I came for at your apartment, but Olaf is PISSED that you've been working him so hard without visiting. It does make me wonder though… where the hell have you been?
Trying to patiently wait,
Anna
P.S. I sorta got a job. Gotta stay occupied somehow.
October 7
"I'm thinking of a… not a career change, not exactly, just digging in a little deeper with a side project I had."
"IT no longer holds appeal for you?" Jerry asked over coffee. "Although, I didn't realize IT required as much travel as you say you do."
They had breached the barrier of the Staten YMCA, braved the less-crowded streets and ended up in a diner near the Verrazzano connector to Brooklyn. Jane took iced tea from an older waitress named Vera, sipped intently on her straw. She wore green today, with a pair of skinnies and demi-heeled ankle boots.
"I finished up a… project, a few weeks ago. Allows me to move about more freely. And this is something that's… it's good. I know it is. You said to find something outside of myself. Something besides A or liquor or you or… whatever. When I've cleared my head with yoga and I want to focus on something constructive. I think this could be it."
"What kind of project are we talking about?"
"Extensive. Over an indefinite time period, with global connections. I like to travel, that's the fun part of my job. And this would let me do it. Allow me to utilize certain… talents."
"Will there be stress involved?"
"I don't know. I've let other people handle things in the past that I'd like to become more involved with. I know the logistics, but implementing them? It's going to take some finesse that I don't think I possess. I want to make the decisions. I want to see them done, but I need a… facilitator."
"Can you get an assistant?" Jerry asked. "Like a middleman, of sorts?"
Jane picked at the split red cushion of the diner booth. On a blustery October day, she'd walked the streets with something like resolve in her system. For the first time in a long time, she felt good.
"I never thought of that. Maybe. I… I'm getting better. With people. I could look for someone to help me."
"I think you should talk to A."
She fingered the fringe of her light scarf, steel grey, with little flowers on it.
"I have been. I… I've been video chatting her. A lot. A few times a week, in fact."
"She's doing well?"
"I hope so. She says so."
"You don't believe her?"
"I hurt her really bad. I never know if talking to me is good or bad for her."
"What is she doing, now? Since you split from her?"
Jane brightened at the question.
"She got a job!"
Jerry sipped his coffee, quirked a brow.
"And this is… good news?"
"For her, it is. Her past work was… nontraditional. Like mine. But it's not like a real job. She's volunteering. And she's… she just sits back and helps people. Works in a library, and, that doesn't make sense because you don't know her, but it's just so perfect. She's surrounded by all of these stories, but she doesn't get to look at them. She just, tucks them away, ready for others to enjoy them. It's so weird. I'm getting better at being with people, and she's getting better at being alone."
"Well then," Jerry said, raising his mug and hinting at a toast. "Here's to getting better."
October 14
Dear Jane,
You came! I can't believe you came. I mean, I wanted you to come, I invited you! But I didn't expect… I almost couldn't make it through the book because I knew you were there. But I don't think the kids noticed. There's only so much acting you can do in the reading room, and I couldn't very well bring in all the mattresses necessary for 'The Princess and the Pea'. They seemed to enjoy the story anyway.
I think you enjoyed the reading, too! You were smiling. And the lights didn't flicker. Not once. You still had your gloves on, but you were good. You looked so, so good Jane. And beautiful! If I wasn't trying to turn over this new leaf, I totally would've stolen your skirt… I'm just so proud of you.
I'm so sorry I hurt you and I'm so proud of you.
You know I'm only at the library three days a week, right? Well, I've been doing something else. Sort of big. But I think it's good. It's helping me let go of a lot of stuff, stuff I don't need anymore. And I got to go back to Europe this past weekend! One thing I've figured out about myself, me, Anna, who I really am, who I want to be: I like to do. I can wait for you, however long you need, as long as I can volunteer and fly and maybe sneak in and out of a museum every once in a while. I'm still learning to be alone, not to just go up and talk people out of fifty bucks that I don't need just for kicks. But just staying occupied, you know? I'm an active person. Even when I'm in my warehouse, I find myself pacing, or doing random cartwheels. I don't think I could ever do yoga, but maybe we could try aerobics?
Like… like sisters do, if that's what you want to be. Sisters come to their sister's story-time readings, and they go to aerobics classes together. You'll never see these, so I just needed to make that offer: that, even if I love you with everything I am, you don't have to love me that way if it's too hard. And I'll accept that. No stipulations, no gimmicks, no fine print. I will be the best sister you ever had if that's what you wish. That's something else I've learned about myself, over these past few weeks: I think I can be alone, if I have to. It's not my choice: believe me, I'd rather have you. I'd give up being your lover to be your anything, but… if I have to be alone, and only take your calls, I'd be alright with that.
It only means I get to look forward to hearing your voice.
Yours, in whatever way you'll have me,
Anna
P.S. I picked up some chocolate from that Swiss shop we both liked, but never got the chance to visit. You're more than welcome to it, if I don't eat it all first.
October 25
"I'm going out of town."
"Business or pleasure?"
"Business. Or, perhaps, a bit of both?" Jane answered, looping her bright blue scarf tighter against her neck. She and Jerry exchanged cash with a vendor, gloved hands warming through thin paper cups of hot chocolate. First of the season. She hugged her cardigan to her while she and Jerry found a bench in the park. Jane relished the sounds of Staten kids playing city-league flag football, November looming and the agitation of holidays creeping upon them like piles of fallen red leaves.
"Will it be very long? I'd like to make myself available if you need me."
"I'll be far too busy to drink," Jane smirked good-naturedly.
"Never know. If it's a lot of work the little bottles on the flight back might start singing your tune."
"Doubt it, if I'm piloting the— that is, if I don't ride where they've got a stocked bar."
"Far trip?"
"Quite. For my… side project. It'll be at least a week."
"Do you think you're ready for it?"
"Yes. I think so. I hired an assistant, you know, in case I'm not."
"And she—"
"He's going with me," Jane said, sipped gracefully at her bargain hot chocolate. "He's worked in this type of business before. Knows the proper international channels, can handle the bureaucratic red tape that I'm uninterested in. I'll still need a lawyer, or litigator, or something. But he's patient with me, a fair teacher. We're going to scope out a location, approve some plans for construction. Make some hires, wax some government elbows."
"You mean rub elbows?"
"Close enough," she smiled.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jerry asked seriously. "You're only about two months off of your relapse."
"I think I am. I mean, A believes in me. I know we're not supposed to say it was just a one-time thing but… somehow, I feel like I'm more attuned to what I want to be. Not just what I should be, if that makes any sense? How I want to make my mark on the world. How I've, I don't know—reconciled, the choices I've made. There's light. It's faint and flickering, and the oxygen could fade from the room at any moment, extinguish the flame, but for now, it's there. And I'm fighting for it."
"Well, have a safe flight."
"I intend to."
October 30
Dear Jane,
I never told you that Halloween was my favorite holiday. I bet you can guess why. But there's no party this year. Normally, I'd get myself on an invite list to a masquerade ball at the Ritz, or the Met, or wherever. They do a helluva All Hallow's Eve in Barcelona, if you'd believe it. But this year I'm just hanging out with the kids, painting faces, watching 'It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown' on the rolling TV from an old VHS tape the library had in their catalog.
It was amazing.
I won bobbing for apples!
And every single bit of it was 100% legal. I had so much fun! And I don't know if this is good to say, but I didn't think of you once.
But I'm not over you. It's not like you're gone forever, I'm just… I don't know. I just know that you have your thing, and maybe I've got mine. Our worlds cross and converge and our lives will always be connected, but it's okay for us to be apart. You were right, again. It's becoming rather annoying, actually, how you knew we needed this… break, if you want to call it that. If I'm with you all the time, how will I ever have silly stories to tell you?
For example: Did you know you can snort apple water out of one nostril at a time if you focus hard enough? It was a riot for the kids, but I don't think the parents approved of my juvenile antics. (It's okay, I'm a criminal. They shouldn't really be taking after me anyway.)
I'm watching 'Young Frankenstein' tonight. I chose the comedy, because I don't do well with horror by myself. Never really have. Confession: I only sneaked into horror movie matinees when I was younger. I never wanted to come out of a slasher flick at night. In all our time together, I never told you… I'm sort of afraid of the dark. Not scary movies, because I love the adrenaline rush. But… nights are different when you're not there to hold me.
It's okay, though. I'm finding I'm more resilient than I ever believed I could be. So thank you for bringing that out in me. Thank you for believing that I could do this. I may have my issues, but you've always put so much trust in me, so much faith. You always believed I could do anything. That I could endure this separation. That I could grow up a little bit. That I would be okay without you.
That I'm capable of living a life resembling truth.
Thank you.
Thank you, twenty years later, for being the big sister I never knew I needed.
It doesn't mean I want you any less. Only that my want is more… contained. More… dare I say, mature? Two months apart doesn't erase twenty years of not knowing you, can't undo months of codependency issues that I heaped on you. But it's definitely the start of something better for me. And you knew it would be. You knew all along.
God, why is it always the first-borns that get all the smarts in the family?
Coping surprisingly well,
Anna
November 7
"How did it go?"
"It was crazy, Jerry. Really crazy. Unorganized, bare-bones, completely lacking in structure. If I'm going to be helping with this, it'll take months. A possible move, to make sure everything is handled properly. And all of the legal channels are unnecessarily complex. It could be streamlined so easily, if I could just override... I mean, bypass some paperwork. I just can't handle it as is, and Kai said he's unfamiliar with the litigation in place. I just need someone who can go in there and talk to them, figure out what they're trying to get at, and then proceed with my own plans."
"You hired your assistant. Why not get a legal team?"
"I will! I just need some… advisers. I think I can get that together. Kai can help. He's got to know some people."
"You didn't happen to relax while you traveled to such an exotic location?"
"I had to do the work. No time to relax."
"You don't need to let life pass you by, pardon the cliché. But just because you can't have a drink while you're traveling doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy the experience. You said you liked to travel, that it was one of the fun parts of your job. All work and no play—"
"—makes A a broke girl."
"What was that?"
"Nothing, I just… I think I know someone who'd be good at that. At helping me loosen up. She always did. We always said we made each other better. We were crutches, that's true, but we were also… we were each other's biggest fans. We really did bring out the best in each other."
Jerry grinned, crooked and genuine, from behind his desk. "I think you're ready to... to try again, with her. From what you've told me, she's ready, or, at least she acknowledges where you are, where she is, how the pair of you can work together without unwittingly sabotaging your relationship. You two still have a long way to go, but I think you're ready to confront her. You just have to think you're ready."
"You know I've seen her—"
"But you haven't talked to her, not really. You need to have that talk. You need to take a weekend with her, hash it all out. You said you never had family, but she was yours. You don't want to lose her. You need to tell her that, need to lay out the ground rules for this new life you're working on. You owe that much to her, because if she can't support that, then it's not fair to her. Drinking, and everything that stems from it... it doesn't affect just you. And from what you've told me about her, she's been handling it remarkably well. Make your amends, go and make sure she's been telling you the truth. That she's not playing at being strong, just to be the person you need her to be."
"She's always been stronger than me. She didn't know it, but she always has been."
"Then tell her. Tell her your plans, tell her your concerns. Talk to her, tell her how hard you've worked to stay sober, how you plan to continue to work. Tell her what you want and maybe ease up on yourself a bit. You've done well, and you deserve some of the love she wants to give you. We recognize our faults, and we make our peace. And then, we do everything we can to maintain our progress. Sometimes, part of that progress includes letting ourselves be happy, despite all the bad that makes up our past. After every screw up, we can still be happy. We only have to let ourselves. Do you think you're ready to give happiness another shot?"
November 15
Dear Jane,
We're just shy of three months since the accident. Since you… I… since we took this time. And in those three months, I haven't come to love you any less. I don't begrudge you your choices, I don't blame you, not anymore. And even now, looking back at some of these letters, I understand it was blame misplaced, and anger misdirected. In the moment, all my fears and resentment and issues came surging out and you were there to take the brunt of it. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry I acted like a child. I don't want to be that way any more.
Here's what I know, thanks to the WGT records you've sent me:
My name is Anna Arrendale. I am nineteen years old. I am a conwoman, wanted for forgery, art theft, grand larceny, burglary, and embezzlement (and a host of other lesser charges). I have over fifty known aliases, but run in high-stakes illegal circles using the codename 'A'. I was born in Memphis, TN. My parents, Andrew and Ida, were killed in a boating accident when I was very young. They were actually quite well off, heads of the largest port on the Mississippi. No one possesses any records, fingerprints, DNA samples, etc., cataloging my existence. At least no digital records. Paper ones about 'A' could take some time to get rid of, and investigators will always know my face, if not my name. But no one can track me with a computer. No one. Thanks to my sister.
I also have a sister.
Here's what else I know, from my time apart from you, from my time spent, thinking about myself:
I like art. I really, really like art. The books I read, while I wasn't with you? Nonfiction. Art history. Art theory. Technique, how to teach it, how to appreciate paintings, how to talk about photography. That's something I don't want to let go of, in whatever life I choose to lead. That is my side project. Or my main project. I don't know.
Segue: I'm energetic. I'm a good multitasker. I need to be kept occupied, or trouble will undoubtedly follow. I can take on several 'projects', as I like to call them. I like to travel. I can't cook. I will always love movies, but my life isn't one.
I am stubborn and bullheaded and I like to argue until I'm blue in the face. I have a hard time owning up to my faults, because I have self-worth issues. I never believed I was good enough to keep. That's why I became a master chameleon. I never thought anyone would love me enough for me, so I changed to fit what they could love. To be what they wanted, even if that wasn't me. Underneath, I always harbored resentment at having to change, at having to adapt just to survive. So when I found someone that loved me for me, for who I really was, I latched on and didn't let go. I let my pride and my selfishness ruin the best thing that ever happened to me, because I wasn't used to good things happening to me. I'd always had to make them happen for myself.
I'm in love with someone. And I shouldn't be. It's taboo, and was unhealthy, and I think I might have been bad for her. And if, in the end, I am bad for her, I'll stay away. I will. I'll just call, and she'll call, and we'll always be the best for each other, but we can't let our own desires hurt other people. I think that was my biggest issue before. I never grasped the import of actions and consequences. But now I do.
I am a good person. I am a bad person. That's why I can do these things and still feel guilt. I am not one or the other. It's fluid, and I think I'm more human because of it.
That's who I am. Or as much of myself as I've figured, so far. I turn twenty pretty soon, so I know I've got a lot of new things to learn about myself. That I will grow, and change, and love selflessly, love selfishly, because that's just who I am.
But I don't want to be A any more.
It's just me.
I don't want to forever be caught between who I was and who I could have been. I just want to be… to be me and let that be enough.
I've decided I'm going to let you read these. Even the early ones where I called you names, and vented my spleen. Somewhere along the way they transitioned from letters to a diary, but I think you should know what I'm thinking. Because when I get around you I get tongue-tied, and you won't understand this... progress, I guess, if I start babbling at you. I'm going to try to get better, be better at not keeping things from you. Letting you read all of this, the good and the bad, that's the best start I can give us. Whatever 'us' we choose to be.
Thank you for giving me a second chance.
Here's what I know:
My name is Anna Arrendale. And I love my sister very much.
All of my love,
Anna
P.S. Even though we're going international, this is going to be my first Thanksgiving with family.
November 22
"Uhm… hello, everyone."
…
…
…
"I've never actually stood up and spoken at one of these things. That's not me, or, I suppose, it wasn't who I thought I was."
…
…
…
"I, well… I was a kid with zero knowledge of her past. And because of that, and some other special circumstances, I started drinking heavily when I was fifteen years old.
"Some people drink to feel, but I drank so I would lose sensation. Suppressant. I would drink until I blacked out, and it didn't matter where I was. To keep myself from thinking about all of the terrible things I'd done in my life. I thought I was a… I knew, in my heart, that there was something wrong with me. Because I had hurt people. I was dangerous. So drinking… it just, made me not feel that way anymore, not happy, not sad... because I didn't feel anything.
"I got sober for several years. Performed well, exceeded my own expectations in my… let's call it, 'career'. But I wasn't happy, didn't think I deserved the chance to be. But then I fell in love.
"And to save you all the ups and downs of an incomplete story, of a tale that still bewilders me to this day, I'm going to skip ahead to my relapse. Because no matter what good things transpire: love, accomplishment, discovery, adventure... there will always be bad things: trials, injuries, the demons in your head that tell you how undeserving you are, how little you have to contribute to this world. And it's not basking in one or wallowing in the other. Life is about learning to negotiate the two. Jerry helped me to see that. My… person, she was there for me in both instances. And it didn't take long for me to realize that I didn't want to lose her to alcohol.
"Alcohol, for me, is giving up. It's admitting defeat, that I'm not strong enough to stand under the weight of everything the world throws at me. That I have to conceal my emotions, for the sake of functioning. That I'm not allowed to feel.
…
…
…
"But I'm stronger now.
"I've been sober for two months, three weeks, and one day. Nothing gets to decide who I'm meant to be. Not alcohol, not other people. I'm not who I was. Nor am I who I should have been, thanks to negative outside forces. But I think I'm on track to becoming who I want to be. A capable person, the kind of person who can love, despite all that's happened to her.
"I can't disregard my past, and I can't redo a life that never got the chance to happen. I did bad things. I did good things. That's who I am. But now I have more agency, thanks to my sobriety, thanks to my... my family. I get to choose who I want to be, and I choose both. The bad and the good. Because life isn't either/or. It's both.
"Next week is Thanksgiving, so I'm inviting my family to be with me for the first time in forever.
"I'm an alcoholic, and a thief, and a tutor, and a quasihumitarian. But at least I know who I am. My name is E.J., and I finally know who I am."
So, I know everyone probably wasn't expecting such a big time skip, but we're rounding the final curve folks. It's hard to convey a three-month time lapse in fic, but think of it as a cheesy montage with bad voice overs and simpering background music. I don't know if that makes it better or worse :P Next chapter will bring our adventurous tale to an end, so thanks for all of the continued support!