August 22nd 2023

Chapter 234
We Write the Impossible

Dear Mrs. Friar,

I don't think you'll have heard unless you ran into my mother lately, but I'm going to be coming back to Texas for a while. My father has been having a lot of trouble since his surgery, and he and Mom have struggled to keep a handle on things on their own, so I offered to come and lend a hand. I know it's what my mother has been hoping for, and it says a lot that she didn't actually push for me to do anything. This was my choice.

The way things are going out here lately, it's also possible that I'll be packing up and moving back for good. It's not what I want, if I'm being honest, but then it really feels like the thing I need to do. My job feels like it's getting away from me, and I don't think it'll wait for me if I go back to Austin for my dad for any amount of time, and Todd and I called off our engagement, and I just really miss home sometimes. Philly's felt like home since college, but it's just not felt as much like that. Maybe if I go back to Austin, I'll know what I'm supposed to do next.

I haven't felt this off balance in a long time, and I'm starting to see myself fall into a pattern I hadn't done in years. It's making me afraid that I'll start and do the same things I used to do to myself when I was younger when I promised myself that I would never ever do it again. I even reached out to my old therapist in Austin even though I hate how it makes me feel that I'm reliving my past no matter what I do. I don't want to end up back home and have my parents see it and worry even more than they already have to. They need to be able to focus on my father and making sure that he gets better. I want that, too, I need it, but it only sends me spiraling and then it all starts all over again, you know?

You know why I decided to write you about all this? The last few days, while I've been trying to calm myself, to recenter myself, I started to draw. I don't just mean that I picked up a pen and started doodling on scrap paper either. I was walking home from work, and I passed by an art store. Next thing I knew, I was walking out of there with a sketchbook and some pencils. I went home, and I sat with what I bought, and I just let my ideas come out. I hadn't done that in so long, not since when I was in your class, and it was the best I felt in a while. So, I wanted to say thanks, even if you didn't do anything directly. I can't wait to come and see you when I make it back to Austin.

Until then, with love,
Ariel Su

.

Dear Ariel,

I have to say, your letter took me on a journey, from one end of it the other. It was enough that, in reality, I only just finished reading it no more than two minutes ago. I then immediately went and sat to write back to you, and that is where we are now. You will notice some small doodles in the margins, they were made by Mackenzie, but she insisted that I could take the page. Actually, when she heard that I was writing to you, she practically insisted. All my girls are looking forward to seeing you again, but as excitement goes, I have to say, my funny macaroni is topping them all. She doesn't know the reasons for your return to Texas, and I'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not you want to tell her, or what you'll tell her when you do. Either way, I know she'll be so glad when you show up, so be careful she doesn't tackle you. Or let her, I guess… It can be fun!

All joking aside, I am really looking forward to seeing you, too, though I'm sure we can both agree that no one would look to this means of reuniting as the one you'd want. I am putting all the good thoughts I can toward your father. I wasn't aware that you were coming back, no, but I had heard about the illness, and I hope he will recover in time. I've been where you are, though in different circumstances, and I would hate to think of anyone I care about being in that position.

Right now, I'm really happy to know that you are looking out for yourself, by whatever means necessary. Thank you for trusting me enough to share. When you do make it out here, I would love to see what you've been drawing, if you wish to share it, of course. I was incredibly touched to know that it could help you in this way. I know that it's been a source of comfort to me, too, both within and beyond my job. I can think of a few other things that might help you in that area, but I'll leave it up to you whether or not you want to try any of it out. Let me know what you decide, one way or the other. Whatever I can do to help, I'm there.

Safe travels,
Mrs. Maya Friar

X

Lucas knew that arguments and arguing would be part of life for them, that his daughters couldn't always be expected to agree and be on the same wavelength about everything, but he still hated seeing them ever be in that headspace, and these days it was exactly what they were experiencing. The situation wasn't nearly as bad as their biggest face off, but it wasn't exactly resolved in the blink of an eye either. It had been going on for a few days now, and as much as both Lucas and Maya knew better than to force anyone's hand, it was so hard not to say or do anything that might only end up making matters worse.

Once they'd all be off at school, part of him could sort of pretend as though none of it was going on the way he knew it was, so that was one thing, at least. He could take off, with Ezra, sometimes with Finneas, too, as he was today, and they could head off to the ranch together for a peaceful day. They had their routine of sorts by now, following a path through Sullivan Stables that would take them to the bed and breakfast, over to the retreat, and the archive, and of course the dance studio, because far be it for them to go and not say hello to Donna Devereaux.

There was music. Every day when they went out there, the music would be emanating from the building, and it would be inviting to the boys, almost thrilling. They would walk through the door and step into a world all its own, either finding Donna with some clients, leading them through choreography for their wedding, or a birthday, an anniversary… Sometimes there wouldn't even be clients, just Donna herself, showing that age was only ever a number.

There were no clients that day. Walking in with the boys, Lucas allowed Finneas to run about, knowing he would be safe to do so to his heart's content without hurting himself, and leaving Ezra in his stroller with him so he might go and track down Donna. He fully expected to find her in the midst of some great new plan, as though she had suddenly pieced together a choreography to change the world.

She sat at her desk, just a bit sunk into her seat and looking small. That was how he knew that she had gone, that Donna Devereaux had done what she'd always said she'd do and breathed her final breath in the place she'd loved the most. She had never once in life looked anything but larger than life. He was surprised at how little he panicked. He just saw her, and he knew, and the only thing that mattered in that instant was making sure to handle what came next with the dignity that she deserved.

The first hurdle came when he remembered that he had two very small boys in the next room who had no idea of what was about to happen, what had already happened, and he had to guard them first and foremost. Neither of them was old enough to truly understand, but still, with Finneas especially, he wouldn't count it as impossible that some things would remain.

He had to get them out, and he had to get other people in, and he wished he didn't have to. As much as he had accepted that Donna's time had come, as much as he knew that others would do the same, none of them would be said to be anything but deeply saddened, and some would be more so than others. At the top of that list would be Britt O'Connell, and he knew that he owed her the courtesy of finding out first, lest she end up finding out any other way than directly. He stepped out of the small office and wrote to her, telling her that he was at the studio and needed to speak with her.

She arrived within two minutes, smiling and bringing samples of her running into her 'flower guy' boyfriend on the way over. She shared one of these with the curious Finneas before turning to do the same with Lucas. When she saw the look on his face, he could see the thought process running across the former XC's face. She saw that something was going on, considered where she was, and what was missing, and then she knew… didn't want to know… but she could see him again and… It was like she forgot how to breathe, and it didn't get any better from there.

By the time Lucas returned home with Ezra and Finneas, he was exhausted, and he knew that, unfortunately, things wouldn't be getting any better once he made it to the house. Now he would have to break the news to Maya, to their daughters, each of them as loved by and loving toward Donna. It never got any easier, having to do this, and it never would… or should… but sometimes he wished it could. It would be better than this, than to see them all come along with their joy clearly visible, and knowing that he was about to rob them of it.

They'd had way too many conversations about death and dying with their daughters after Melinda's passing, enough that some part of them clearly absorbed some of the shock, but that only went so far. No amount of soothing would remove every last bit of the sting that came of knowing that their favorite dance teacher was never going to greet them with a big hug anymore, wasn't going to make them laugh anymore, wasn't going to make them dance anymore. The evening became one of complete and total embrace, of family coming together. It was a small but important gift, if they could look at it that way, that in her passing Donna had allowed the Friar girls to completely set aside any knowledge or acknowledgment of their problems with one another. They eventually went to bed, three here and three there huddled together in sleep, the better to protect one another in the night. Lucas and Maya did the same, in their own bed, and they fell asleep in the middle of recalling 'Donna stories' with one another, feeling her spirit right there with them.

TO BE CONTINUED


See you tomorrow! - mooners