Chapter fourteen

Terra firma

Wednesday wasn't exactly an ideal day for a picnic, so the lakeside park was almost empty. In other words, it was an ideal day for a picnic.

A chilly breeze ruffled the napkins, and Anna pulled her plaid jacket a little tighter around herself. "Pass the chips, please," she said. Elsa handed her the Tupperware bowl, and she shook a few more onto her plate. She sipped from her beer bottle, moved to wipe her mouth with her sleeve, then caught herself and picked up her napkin instead. Elsa gave her an approving nod, mentally updating her scorecard to 2 out of 5.

A blanket of clouds stretched as far as the eye could see, but it was thin enough to allow a good portion of sunlight through, preventing the day from feeling gloomy or overcast. Be that as it may, the only other picnickers out that day were a couple of guys, set up under another tree about eighty feet away. Everyone else must've gotten all their picnicking out of their system earlier in the season. It was still quite a shift for Elsa, as back in California all of the nice parks would've still been packed at this point, and well into autumn, for that matter.

Elsa placed the bag of chips back in the large Tupperware container that served as their picnic basket, and took out another sandwich and the bottle of hot sauce, noticing that Anna's previous sandwich was down to crumbs. She'd fretted about not being able to find a real picnic basket, but she'd settled on the plastic tub as the next best thing. In hindsight, she commended herself for the ingenuity, and not just on that front, as they were currently sitting on a plaid patterned tablecloth in lieu of a picnic blanket.

"Thanks," Anna said as she began to dig in. "So you said you're off until the end of this week?"

"Off work?" Elsa asked. "Yes, then I'm working from home starting next Monday."

"So they only gave you two weeks off?" Anna said. "I feel like they could've done more."

"Well, I do have some vacation days and personal days I could dig into," Elsa admitted. "But things are tough at the company right now. There's this Altru job I need to get back to, a couple of my coworkers have put in their two week's notice lately – stressful times, you know how it is."

Anna shook her head. "I really don't," she said. "You barely ever tell me anything about your work."

"Because it's boring," Elsa said dismissively. "Government contacts, bureaucracy, papers, meetings – who'd want to listen to someone ramble on about that?"

Anna sat up straighter. "I would," she said. "If you're the one who's rambling, at least."

"Yeah, well…" Elsa began, preparing another self-depreciating deflection, then trailed off.

Anna didn't seem to be joking, or just acting polite. Her wide eyes and attentive posture suggested that she was genuinely curious about her work. Her own employment history consisted mainly of fast food jobs, so maybe the idea of office work really did intrigue her.

Or maybe she just wants to know more about you. Is that so hard to believe?

"All right, then," Elsa said. She wiped off her mouth and set her plate to the side. "You know I majored in transportation engineering, right?" Anna nodded. "Well, the company I work for designs on- and off-ramps for highways. As you'd imagine, there's quite a lot of those in California, so we're always busy. But what do you think the main issue is for highway design over there?"

Anna sipped from her beer, eyes still locked on Elsa. "The traffic?"

"The traffic, yes!" Elsa said, gesturing for emphasis. "If you put two off-ramps too close to each other, the traffic for one of them might block the other one off when things get busy. Then that causes a cascade effect for the next off-ramp, and it just keeps getting worse. Our job is to make sure that we are not the bottleneck when rush hour rolls around. That also means we have to control the timing for the stop lights at the end of the off-ramp, the number of lanes, and so much more, all while working within design guidelines written back when Eisenhower was still in office."

Anna nodded. "And I guess you can't just put ten lanes on every road and call it a day?"

Elsa smacked herself in the head. "Oh, that's genius! Why didn't I think of that?" Anna giggled. "But seriously, more lanes doesn't mean less traffic. Sometimes it means the exact opposite."

"Really?" Anna asked.

"Yep. More lanes means more people decide to use that route, therefore more traffic. Plus, there's more merges and lane changes as well. There's actually a really good Mythbusters episode about it…"

Anna listened, keeping her focus locked on Elsa in that way that made her feel like the most important person in the universe. It was a tremendous boost to Elsa's ego to receive that level of attention, and she repaid her by adding as much force and emotion as she could into what was to her, mundane, boilerplate information about her job.

Anna took a bite of her sandwich, judged it to be lacking, and reached for the hot sauce, all while still focusing on Elsa. Unfortunately, she grabbed the wrong bottle.

"Agh!" she shouted, tipping her arm back too late to prevent a quarter of her beer from pouring onto her sandwich. Elsa abruptly stopped her story and reached for the paper towels. As the drink seeped through the paper plate, she swiftly wrapped it in paper towels, bundling it four-square like a fortune teller in a matter of seconds and depositing it on the grass.

Silence ensued. Anna blushed, embarrassed about the whole affair, while Elsa felt silly for reacting at the speed a grease fire would demand for a simple spill. Eventually she cleared her throat. "Guess you'll need a new sandwich, then."

Anna composed herself. "Well, let's see about that," she said. She unwrapped the towel and, to Elsa's shock, picked up her newly invented turkey and Bud Light sandwich and took a bite. She considered the taste for a moment, then shrugged. "Still tastes fine," she said. "I'll take another beer, though."

Elsa couldn't help but laugh.

"Three months early?" Anna repeated, incredulous.

"It's not as impressive as it sounds," Elsa said quickly. "Government contracts move at a snail's pace. Most of that time save was just getting our RFIs answered quicker than usual."

"But that happened thanks to you, right?" Anna pressed.

"Me and my team, yes," Elsa said.

"Yeah, and I wonder who on that team worked the hardest to get that done," Anna said sarcastically.

Elsa blushed. She reached for her sandwich to fill the silence, but they were both down to crumbs at this point. "…Yes, I did spearhead the effort on that front," she admitted.

"Knew it," Anna said. "I bet they gave you a promotion for that one."

Elsa laughed. "It's not quite that simple," she said. Then she thought about it. "Although that was about the time when Wes first mentioned it."

"Wes?" Anna asked.

"My manager," Elsa said. "When I first started working there, my department had two managers, but one of them left about a year after I joined. They started looking for someone else to fill it, but Wes told me he was considering me for the position."

"Well, that's great!" Anna said, though her disposition changed when she saw how unenthusiastic Elsa looked.

"Seemed that way, anyway," Elsa said with a sigh. "Then the pandemic happened, and of course they put the kibosh on any promotions for a while."

"Well, sure," Anna said with a frown. "But what about last year?"

Elsa shook her head. "Last year, we still had a lot of people doing hybrid work, and Wes said it was too soon to talk about. I worked well with people in the office, but we were still in Terra Incognita when it came to my performance with hybrid workers, or so he said. He told me he'd discuss it with me after I got back from my bereavement leave."

"So in other words, he's been stringing you along for years now?" Anna asked, anger in her voice.

"A lot has happened since then," Elsa said, raising her hands defensively. "New hires have come and gone, there were a lot more jobs that came in once stuff started to open up-"

"Well, that's no excuse," Anna interrupted. "He said he'd give you a promotion, but all he's given you are delays."

"He only said he would consider it," Elsa said. "It's entirely possible he's decided I'm not fit for the job." For reasons he hasn't told me.

"There's no way you're not," Anna insisted. "I know you, and I bet you've put in 110% effort since the day you started there."

"Sometimes that just isn't enough," Elsa said. "You can't always get what you want. When that happens, the best you can do is take what you're given and…" She swallowed, as for some reason she felt a lump forming in her throat. "…and make it work," she finished.

Anna's indignant expression melted away, replaced with sorrow and pity. "Oh, Elsa," she said, spreading her arms wide. Elsa leaned in for a hug, and Anna gripped her as tight as she could.

"It's fine, it's fine," Elsa mumbled. "I don't have any right to complain, I'm not owed a single-"

"Do you know what I'd do, if I had an employee like you?" Anna whispered.

Elsa's train of thought instantly derailed. She couldn't imagine that Anna had meant to sound like she just had, but that whisper was smooth as butter.

"I'd promote you as high as I could, and tell you every morning how glad I was to be working with you."

Elsa was sweating now. "Uh, well, that'd be nepotism," she stammered, trying to find a joke to cool things down. "And I don't know-"

"Even if we weren't sisters." Anna punctuated her sentence with a kiss on the cheek, then let go.

She returned to her beer, a slight pink tinge in her cheeks the only evidence of what she'd just said. Elsa, meanwhile, was arguably more of a wreck than before the hug.

Anna, I love you, and I appreciate your kind words. But that was the wrong sentiment to follow with a kiss.

Back when they were little, they'd come here with Dad and ride their bikes around the lake, taking the big loop clockwise. Now they walked counterclockwise, hands intertwined, and nothing short of the pope appearing on the path ahead could've separated them.

"Careful," Elsa said quietly as they stepped over the bump in the sidewalk caused by the oak tree's roots. They passed it without incident, just as they had a hundred times before. The geese who lived in this park had already headed south for the winter, but a few birds still flew overhead. Save for the guys back at the start and an elderly couple on a walk a while back, they had the entire park to themselves. There was no physical reason why this shouldn't have been a perfect walk.

Elsa sniffled. She'd tried to keep it quiet, but in the quiet of the park, it was deafening. Anna heard it, looked at her, and nodded. "I know," she said, giving Elsa's hand a squeeze.

Elsa nodded back, but didn't speak, not trusting her composure to hold.

"Hey, we made it here, didn't we?" Anna said with an encouraging smile. "That's progress, right?"

"Yeah," Elsa said. "Sure is."

"And you know I couldn't have done it without you," Anna continued, though she seemed close to tears herself.

Elsa nodded. "Same here," she said. "Thank you for inviting me back home."

"Of course," Anna said. "You're always welcome here, no matter what."

She said it as if it was obvious, but hearing the words out loud warned Elsa's heart. "Thank you, Anna," she said. "That means a lot."

This seemed like the ideal moment to break the good news, so she pressed on.

"And I intend to test that," she continued. "We'll see how welcome I am in a few months' time."

Anna looked at her, eyes wide. "You mean…"

Elsa nodded. "I've made my decision. I'm staying indefinitely," she said. "There's nothing back in California that's worth leaving you for."

Tears welled in Anna's eyes. "Oh, that's great news!" she exclaimed. "Thank you so much."

Elsa nodded. "I'll have to get my stuff moved back here, of course. A trip or two to grab it all, but there's no reason you can't-"

Anna kissed her on the cheek. That shut her right up, as it usually did.

They kept walking, just as silently as before, but now that nagging voice picked at Elsa's brain, berating her for just how accustomed she was becoming to Anna's kisses. Yet Anna wasn't quite done.

"You know, you can kiss me too," Anna said, nudging her sister's elbow.

Elsa swallowed. "Can I?" she asked. Anna nodded. "I mean, should I?" she clarified.

"Yeah, it's totally fine," Anna said, a hint of impatience in her voice. "We used to do it all the time, remember?"

"Yeah, back in day care," Elsa said. "It's different now, you know that."

"Not for me," Anna said. "And I know you want to do it too, so what's the problem?"

"Anna, that's-" Elsa began, unsure of how to proceed.

Be honest. You said you would.

Elsa took a deep breath. She reached out her other hand, and Anna took it. They slowed to a stop, and Elsa looked deep into Anna's eyes.

"You've been so understanding, Anna," Elsa said. "The fact that you even let me touch you after what I told you – well, it means the world to me. But we're rapidly heading towards the point where you shouldn't be comfortable with what I want to do. I want so much to just be the sister I once was, to show you all the physical affection you can take. But I just can't. It wouldn't be right. Even now, I feel like…like a predator, just dressed up to be your sister. You look at me and see the same girl I always was, but I'm not. I'm a…" She turned her head away. "Well, I'm not sure what I am," she lied. "But I'm sure that I shouldn't get everything I want. Do you understand that?"

Anna was stunned into silence. "Oh god, Elsa," she said after a while. "How…how long have you felt this way?"

"Since high school," Elsa said. "I told you that back when we were cleaning out the basement."

"No, I mean how long have you felt like you didn't deserve to be near me?" Anna asked.

The question surprised her. Time after time, Elsa had given Anna ample opportunity to process the shock she'd witnessed on their doorstep half a decade ago, yet no matter how hard she looked, she found not a trace of the disgust it should have metastasized into. "Since college. And I don't deserve it, I really don't."

"Stop saying that," Anna said firmly. "Of course you do."

"You just have to trust me on this one, Anna," Elsa said. "If you could peek into my thoughts, for just one second, you'd know for sure. I genuinely don't deserve any amount of your love."

She tried to turn away. Anna wouldn't let her.

"No, you trust me on this," Anna said forcefully. "I know you've changed – of course you have – but you're still my sister. You're Elsa Winters, the girl I grew up with, and no matter who you see me as now, that's never going to change."

"Well, yes, in a-"

"In ninth grade," Anna interrupted, "I forgot to do a book report for Mr. Volina, and you talked to him personally and convinced him to give me an extension. Was that just because you thought I was attractive?"

"Of course not," Elsa said.

"When I broke up with Hans, I cried myself to sleep for a week straight. Who was always there to listen to me?"

"I was," Elsa said.

"When I was five and I went riding in our wagon around the culdesac, one of the wheels fell off. Who pulled the wagon home with three wheels, instead of asking me to get out and help?"

"You remember that?" Elsa said incredulously.

"I remember all of it," Anna said. "You've always been kind to me, you've always helped me when I needed you. Both before you started having feelings for me, and after. And nothing I've seen in the past ten days has convinced me that you're any less of my sister now then you were before you left."

Now tears were falling from Elsa's eyes. "Anna-"

"I love you, Elsa. I always have, and I always will. I know you love me as a sister too, no matter what other kinds of feelings you might have for me." Anna smiled. "So don't ever try to convince yourself otherwise."

She wrapped her arms around Elsa and hugged her for all she was worth. Elsa squeezed back, her tears soaking Anna's jacket. Elsa felt so warm, as if she'd gulped down a mug of hot chocolate on a cold winter's day. Before she could second-guess herself, she turned and kissed Anna on the cheek.

Well, on her hair, at least. It was so thick and voluminous, her cheek wasn't even visible beneath it.

Anna stifled a chortle. "Want a mulligan on that one?" she asked.

Elsa blushed. "Yeah," she said. She brushed Anna's hair aside, then kissed her cheek for real this time.

Anna smiled, and Elsa was unable to quash the wave of happiness rising inside of her. It wasn't all the wrong kind of happiness, either – just as Anna had suggested, part of her joy was just being this close with her sister once again. She'd downplayed it just a moment ago, but the truth was that they'd kept on kissing each other well into middle school, and Elsa hasn't realized just how much she'd missed it.

Anna offered her hand, and Elsa silently took it. They resumed their walk, fingers interlaced and broad smiles on their faces. Elsa had a feeling she'd feel guilty about it later, but right now, she was on top of the world.

She's working harder to repair our relationship than I am.

Anna's mind was abuzz, her heart aflutter. At least one of those was a good thing.

They had nearly concluded their lap around the park, and their spirits were both high. Anna was feeling proud of herself for taking the leap and pushing through another barrier between them, and proud of Elsa for not chickening out. If it were up to her, that would've been the end of it, and she literally would've turned her brain off and wallowed in her good feelings for the rest of the day. But as might've been expected, this step had felt just a little bit different.

Elsa had indeed kissed her in that manner before, but so had Hans and Kristoff. Not for long, of course, as they'd both quickly moved on to the mouth. First closed, then open, one hungrily, one clumsily – neither had been particularly good at it, if she was being honest. Elsa probably would be different, though. She'd be gentle, considerate, and probably stop halfway through to apologize. On a purely conceptual level, she'd be taking home the gold.

Already thinking about that next step, are we? Isn't that exactly what Elsa warned you about?

Yeah, her and Ms. Kimberly both.

Miss Kimberly, teacher of the solitary sex ed class she'd been allotted in the entirety of grade school, had made the process sound entirely inevitable, a slippery slope from start to end. One minute you're holding hands, then come the hugs, then kisses, and then boom! Syphilis. While Anna couldn't fault her order of operations, in both of her relationships thus far, each step had been a sober decision, a new Rubicon every step of the way. So why, now, did she feel her heels start to slide?

Because I'm on a mission. I need to find out what I'm comfortable with.

Oh, what's this "need" business now? She just said she'd be staying for a while, why the impatience?

Uh…because I'm impatient?

Anna pressed two fingers to her forehead, frustrated at her own inability to take things seriously. Elsa looked over at her. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Anna said quickly. "Didn't get enough sleep last night, that's all."

Oh yeah, that's no lie. Down to just ten and a half hours, now.

She would've scoffed, but upon thinking about it a little more, she had indeed been getting out of bed earlier these days, and not just for breakfast. She was still spending a lot of time succumbing to its gravitational pull, but knowing that Elsa was waiting downstairs seemed to be motivating her to end her doomscrolling. Was Elsa…fixing her?

Gee, I sure hope not. Because that would mean she broke me when she left, and didn't bother trying to fix things for five years.

The intrusive thought lunged at her like a crocodile leaping out of the lake beside them, and Anna had to fight to keep her anger down. Elsa didn't seem to notice this one, but she'd most likely get another chance. The closer the two of them got, the harder Anna found it to ignore these spikes of anger. Just holding Elsa's hand did a lot to calm her down, but she couldn't very well be expected to keep that up forever, could she? And obviously Elsa would have an explanation for her actions – surely a better one than Anna was thinking of right now. Whatever the case, she'd have to work this shit out, preferably sooner than later.

Especially if French kissing is on the table now, right, Miss Kimberly?

She couldn't suppress the chuckle, but that one was fine. Better than fine, in fact, as Elsa seemed to be buoyed just by hearing it. Really, for all the absolute mess that was going on in her head right now, she hadn't felt any great shift in how she saw Elsa yet. She didn't know what she was expecting, but surely it wouldn't just slip her by without her noticing, right? People tend to notice when Cupid shoves an arrow up their-

As if it would be that simple. It wasn't one big moment for Elsa, she told you as much – it was a decision she made after years of thinking about it. Which means that sooner or later, you're due to – gulp – make a decision yourself.

Yeah, well, my track record ain't that great with those. So I'd best make sure I make the right one, eh?

They had nearly completed their lap, and now they were passing the two guys beneath the tree. They didn't appear to have moved, but their cheeks were flushed and they were short of breath. Anna didn't feel the need to call Sherlock Holmes to solve that one.

The men looked at her and Elsa, then nodded. She nodded back.