In the end, I decided Joan should be punished for hitting Tina. Not severely, but enough to sting. I know she's beating herself up about it too. I also figured she should be rewarded for her honesty, and her courage bringing the issue forward herself—even if Tina served as a temporary proxy. A few days later I got a call from Cara, half angry, half confused. I could hear Tina in the background. Things have been smoothed over, but for a little while—any time they're over there—Cara has insisted on chaperoning them. I'm not against it, and surprisingly, neither were they. Not exactly happy, but understanding Cara's concerns—which overlap quite a bit with their own in this case. But they did ask her to clarify whether or not they would be getting any privacy at all.
They can ask for it, but she said it's a privilege. I'm assuming she just means for now.
For my part, I'm less concerned with what they do, and more with how they're feeling. Because that is just as important, and maybe something they're less willing to talk about with Cara at the moment. Which is fine—we'll obviously tell each other major things, and they know this, but I just want them to be safe here. To feel safe, even if they don't feel okay. Because it's important to talk about that too. I also told Joan that if it's easier for her to talk to Kristoff about these things, I understand, and that he can keep them in confidence if she wants. That's harder for me to accept, but it's her choice, not mine.
Right now though, Joan and Tina are on the couch, watching cartoons, and hiding under a blanket, thinking those moves are subtle. I just give them a raised eyebrow, and turn back to the TV. I mean, they chose an interesting series, even if I have seen it before. Plus, I think, a few episodes in, and Joan identifies more than a bit with the main character, jacket, sword, and all. And rebel princess friends. Speaking of unlikely alliances, they want to invite Bex over, but not ambush her, as it were. They're not really sure how to do that. Or whether to do that here, at Cara's, or at Bex's place.
I glance up at the clock, wondering about dinner prep, because it's getting kinda late now. Also late for Tina to be driving home, especially with the way the weather is out there. I pause the show when the episode ends.
"The weather seems pretty nasty out there now, Tina—are you sure you're okay to drive in that?"
Tina throws off the blanket and hurries over to a window, drawing back the curtain. It's not a blizzard, or a white out, but that snow is heavy. She turns back to me, looking unsure. "I don't know, miss Bergman—but I have school tomorrow, and mom needs the car too, and I don't think it's going to get better." She sighs heavily. "I just didn't think it'd get so bad this fast."
"You could stay over," Joan offers, still sitting on the couch. "If it's that bad out there, I'm sure your mom will understand. Mom could always drop you and the car off over there before work, right?"
I give her a reproving look, but she's not wrong. I turn back to Tina. "I can always call your mom, and we can work something out, if you don't feel safe enough driving in this weather."
She looks at me, then peeks under the curtains again. There's an earnest note in her voice when she speaks up. "Can we, please?"
I fish my phone out of its pocket, and ring Cara. "Hi Cara, it's Anna. Tina wants to know if it's okay to stay here tonight, given how bad the weather is."
"Hello Anna," Cara's voice is bright, but guarded. "It's not so bad over here, yet, but I can see it closing in soon. She's a good driver, if she doesn't feel up to it, I trust her to decide."
"I can get the car to you early tomorrow morning if you need it for work." I leave the offer there.
"It's alright, I can carpool to work, and she can drive herself to school." There's a pause, then: "Remind her about the class project. And thanks for letting me know, Anna, I appreciate it. They're behaving?"
"Very well, just watching some cartoons together. And thinking they're being subtle."
"Tell Tina I'll see her tomorrow afternoon—and I hope this isn't imposing too much."
"It's fine, Kristoff likes cooking big meals anyway, and I'd feel responsible if anything happened to her on the drive."
"You're a good parent, Anna. Take care of her for me tonight."
"I will. Bye." I hang up after her goodbye, then turn to Tina. "Your mom says you can drive yourself to school tomorrow. She'll get a lift with someone to work. And now I have to start dinner with Kristoff—oh, and your mom said something about a class project."
"Oh, right—but I didn't bring my laptop."
Joan gives her a look. "I know you, you'll have like fifty different backups around the place, and you can use my laptop if you want."
It's my turn to give Joan a look. "Are you going to help us in the kitchen, preparing dinner for your girlfriend?"
"You should," and Tina's poking her in the side. "I still remember what you tried to make that time."
"You… I…" Joan huffs, flicking her braid aside. "There are times I really don't like you."
"You could've looked up a recipe, or something… I'm just saying…"
I look at Joan. "You, kitchen." I point at Tina. "And you, maybe tone it down a little, work on that school project?"
"I have permission." Which just raises more questions, but I'm not sure I need to go digging for answers. "I should actually work on that project though. Joan?"
"On my desk. You know what you're doing."
"Thanks."
It's later than it should be, honestly. But not really that much. I let them stay up to watch a couple more episodes of the show—and they have been behaving, so what's the harm, really? Anyway, we're all in Joan's room now, and Tina is under the covers with her, wearing a set of pyjamas that are perhaps a size too large, but that Joan thinks make her look even cuter. Which yes, she said out loud, so there was no taking it back. I'm happy they can move on, and figure things out like this. As I've said, better than I was at that age.
It's also time for bedtime stories, with just the reading lamp on, and me in my gown, sitting at the foot of the bed, turning just a little so I can see them both. I give Joan a significant look.
"This one's gonna be heavy," I lay my hand on hers through the covers. "Not as bad as the other therapy session I told you about, but…"
"I understand, mom." She turns to Tina for a moment. "Remember how I said there was some really disturbing stuff I couldn't tell you, about what happened to my mom?"
"I do," and I can feel Tina shiver under the covers. "I saw how scared you got, trying to tell me about that part."
"She's too good at storytelling, honestly. I almost felt it last time, so if you want to go, or cover your ears or something when we get to that part…"
"I'm not leaving, even if it is scary, or disturbing, or something else horrible." She pauses to take a deep breath. "I mean, not that I think it's good, or that I want to hear stuff like that, but I just think you shouldn't have to go through it alone."
"I wish I'd known that," I'm wearing a wry smile. "Back then, and before."
"You didn't, miss Bergman?"
I let out a little breath. "No, I didn't. Before Elsa I was in… well, a very abusive relationship is the nicest way to put it. I have scars that remind me I survived it all. My relationship with Elsa helped more than I knew, which is something else there's going to be parts of here—because that was tied up with my other trauma for a while, before I learned a few things about myself."
"Wow… I guess you went through a lot," Tina's looking at me with wide eyes. "And you got better, too—because Joan's here."
"I did," I agree, nodding slowly. "Now, if you two are ready…"
And suddenly they're the picture of innocence, sheets pulled up to their chins, attentive and ready to listen.
—∞—
So, the day of my next therapy session turned out to be interesting. I didn't actually have work—we always had something of a lull in January, and Kristoff said the day before that I might as well take the whole day off, unless I just wanted to do some sweeping around the workshop. Monday and Tuesday we had been getting things in order, and with the shelves stacked with steel, nuts and bolts mostly sorted, and consumables re-stocked, there really wasn't a lot to do until we got another contract. So Kristoff and Maurice would be on the road, checking with the crews we worked for about available jobs. Audrey was going to be off as well, but asked if she could use the workshop for a personal project, putting together some kind of framing for her sister's weights.
Which was why I wound up on the couch, sharing a blanket with Elsa.
"I know you are nervous, and that is okay," She stroked my hair, calming me. "They are not easy things to talk about."
"It's not just that," I shrugged. "It's not really having anything to do."
"Distractions are not solving the problems."
"Neither is deflecting." I could tell it stung, but still she smiled.
We just sat there for a while, listening to the easy listening playlist Elsa had made the other day. It really was nice, and relaxing. I could just sit there, and ignore everything for a little while. I heard a quiet sigh from above me.
"What?"
This time her smile was completely different. "I am thinking about your enthusiasm. Especially the other night."
"As I recall, you liked that."
Another sultry smile. "Of course, and it is always fun with you. But I am wondering about your practice—or about you needing so much more of it. I mean, you can't even undo my bra one-handed."
"And…?" I couldn't help the challenging tone.
"Should I make it a contest?"
"What?" I was very confused. "Contests?"
"I know you are competitive person, Anniken." She smiled warmly, but I felt that hand sliding down my back. "I am wondering about motivation to improve, even if we cannot be having sex so much."
And just like that—through my shirt, even—she'd managed to unhook my bra. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"
"You have said I should, even if my wit is sometimes dry. So maybe, I think, something a little more physical, more fun for you, I hope. Some encouragement, to know that I am always wanting you…"
"I don't deserve you." I turned to kiss her.
"Idiot." She kissed me back.
"I guess you're not wrong," I laughed. "I am kinda clumsy in bed. And uncoordinated." My thoughts turned dark and voice fell. "And only used to one kind of sex…"
"I'm here, Anna." I felt her arms around me, holding me tight. It honestly wasn't bad this time. Just a stray thought. But…
"I hate admitting it, but it is kinda true," I sighed, holding her arms while I played at being the little spoon. "I don't know about lesbian sex."
I had to pause for dramatic effect, cutting Elsa off just before she could reply.
"But my teacher is fucking hot, and I think she likes my leather pants. On the floor."
I heard laughter from behind me, followed by a soft groan. "Must everything be a joke with you, Anniken?"
"Well, we did try that time…" I remind her gently, as if it was possible to forget.
"I would like it again—I… hmm." I let her take her time. "Would it be allowed to take some pictures of you, just wearing only that jacket?"
I blushed a little, when I realised what she meant. "Like a sexy photoshoot kinda of thing?"
"Something just for me, on my phone," Elsa nuzzled into my neck. "It would surprise you how much work—and money—is in a boudoir photoshoot like mine."
"It probably would."
"Plus, I would one day like a picture of your 'special face', and I do not think we would want interruptions."
My brow furrowed for a moment, trying to figure it out. Then I blushed so hotly I could've set the blankets on fire. Translation issues, but I knew exactly which expression she wanted to capture. I was tempted, too—right then—but looking at the clock I figured we just wouldn't have time. Plus, I'd probably be too nervous to get that far anyway. If we even did. More of my hang-ups to work through with doctor Spiros.
I felt Elsa's arms tighten around me. "It's fine; maybe one day." I whispered back. "I'm just nervous about everything today, is all. I wish you could be there."
"So do I, Anniken—but my treatment schedule cannot be negotiated. Not… not more than it has been."
"Than it has been?" Of course I was skeptical. She'd been saying for a long time that things couldn't be changed.
"For work—my dancing." I felt her chin against my shoulder. "They will let me postpone some chemo—like last week—so I can have muscle tone and energy for a performance."
"Only one?" It felt sad to say it that way, but I was genuinely curious.
"If I am lucky, maybe two or three. The premiere night, at least. David understands that this might be my only chance to perform, and Aurora has been training as much as me." I felt as much as heard Elsa's sigh. "She's my understudy, and very good. Perhaps as good as me, even…"
There was an overly long pause. I knew it was something she wouldn't want to talk about. Maybe she'd even deflect me again. "But what, Elsa?"
"Afterwards… after I get to dance this once, I must go back to treatments. Some of them will be a little more intense. There is a treatment plan for me, and I can see side effects for things. What will happen. All to buy me a little more time—time with you." It felt like my heart was breaking for her, but she wasn't done. "All this time we might have… I worry… about work. If I will have the strength to do… anything. What happens when I am so sick I sometimes cannot stand. What happens if you get sick, or hurt, or something? And then… and then… because it can't work… not for so long…"
I turned to face her, but she buried her face in my chest, unable to meet my eyes. I felt it, those great, wracking sobs. I felt it so keenly because that had been me, a few months ago. The revelation of what she feared most. All I could do was hold her close, and softly brush her hair. I had no idea what to say. I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn't want to lie. No false hopes. No comforting lies. And even then, the truth seemed so much worse. I closed my eyes as I felt the tears welling up.
Then I made a decision, that—to this day—I have no idea where I found the strength for it.
I opened my eyes, letting the tears fall, and lifted Elsa's face to mine. "I'm scared about all of this. Maybe even terrified. But I'm here now, and so are you. We can cry, and laugh, and rage. We can eat our way through entire tubs of ice cream. We can turn into adrenaline junkies and do crazy shit together. Or we could just stay home, and be normal people—well, as much as I'm 'normal', anyway. Whatever you want to do, Elsa."
She just sobbed and fell against me again. I wrapped my arms around her.
"I'll try again then. We've probably got a fair bit of cash between us. I've got a good job, and a great boss. Even part-time, I'm pretty sure I can support us. We can… make plans, I guess? Budgets—make sure we have more than enough. Emergency cash? Plans for… plans… for…" I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I just couldn't say it. A single word would have to do, with all the weight and fear and sadness tied to it. "…after."
It was then that Elsa actually looked up at me. I saw the fire in her eyes, and felt it as her hands balled into fists. I spoke up, so she didn't have to.
"I get it. I really do." I kissed the tip of her nose. "You can't talk about it now. It's just too painful to think about. But I'll do it for you. For us. I'll wake us up, and we can talk. I hope… I hope it's enough."
"Thank you." It was barely more than a whisper.
I reached over and grabbed a tissue, and I had been going to wipe my eyes, but at the last moment moved to tenderly wipe away the tear tracks down Elsa's cheeks. Through my own slightly blurry eyes, I looked over at the clock. She would have to go soon, and so would I, shortly afterwards. It was then that I remembered Doctor Spiros's care for me after my last therapy session. Because I didn't think Elsa was doing okay in that moment.
"Are you okay to drive?"
"I will take a taxi. The costs are covered, and I am usually too tired to drive after anyway." She smiled for me, genuine this time. "I hope it goes well with Doctor Spiros."
"So do I."
The alarm went off on my phone then, reminding me that I didn't actually have as much time as I thought. I silenced the alarm, but I heard a car honk outside. Elsa sat up behind me. "I have to go now."
"Maybe later we can talk about something lighter?" I felt her hug me from behind when I spoke. "Thank you."
"It's going to be a hard afternoon for us both, I think. If you want, call me after."
"I will." With that promise, I watched her hurry back up the stairs. A few moments later and it was just me on the couch, psyching myself up for something that was for my own good. It didn't make it any easier—but I knew I had to do it. I owed it to her. To Kristoff.
To myself.
