Chapter seventeen
Undone
"And with that, the Altru job is all but finished," Elsa summarized. "Leonard will be looking for more work, and I'd recommend we put him on NRG's job, since they've worked with him in the past. That just leaves Bill and Anthony, who are still up to their elbows in their own respective jobs."
Wes blinked. "My goodness, miss Winters," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Are you quite certain you took any sort of break at all?"
Elsa let out a chuckle – not a nervous one, she hoped. "Just decided to hit the ground running, Wes." She maintained her most formal posture, hands clasped together on the desk and back perfectly straight.
"Indeed," Wes said. "I do hope you haven't been hassling your kind coworkers before their day even began."
"Of course not, I would never-" she began.
"Aside from Aaron, of course," Wes continued. "You may hassle him at your discretion."
This time she had to force herself to laugh. She wasn't a fan of his disparaging comments towards her coworkers, but it wasn't anything serious enough to contact HR about. "If necessary, I suppose. I'll resume working on my in-progress jobs, and report back in at the end of the day."
"That's what I like to hear, miss Winters," Wes said. "See you in the evening."
"I'll see you," Elsa replied.
The video call ended, and she allowed her body to relax. She stepped out of her high heels, and patted down her hair to confirm none of it had escaped from the tight bun she'd corralled it into, nor had her suit jacket spontaneously generated any wrinkles during their conversation. She seemed to be good on all accounts.
Now that the call was over, she could better appreciate how overdressed she had gotten. Obviously there was no point in wearing a pencil skirt, stockings, and heels for a waist up video call. She'd made fun of herself as she'd put them on – a gentle teasing, for a change. But the importance of maintaining appearances could not be overstated. This was the first time Wes had seen her in two weeks, and he needed to be aware that she was still just as dedicated to her work as ever, even if she'd be doing it remotely. Every part of her actions, her appearance, and the words she said needed to be perfectly arrayed.
Especially since, at the end of the day, she'd be asking him about the promotion again.
Just holding off from mentioning it during their call had taken a lot of strength, but it wouldn't have been professional to rush to him first thing in the morning with outstretched hands. Far better to ask at the end of the day, after spending 8 hours proving why she deserved it.
And she did deserve it, too. No hemming and hawing about this one. Wes had given her a series of tasks to complete to prove her qualification for management, and she'd completed them handily – and that was before the pandemic. Arguably, she'd been doing half of the managerial work in their branch for years now. By the empirical standards set before her, she simply was worthy of the position, full stop.
Then why do I have this sense of foreboding?
Deep in the pit of her stomach, she felt a nagging dread that she couldn't shake. A whisper in her ear, telling her that she wouldn't get the promotion, that she never would. It was the very same voice that told her she was somehow screwing things up with Anna, as well.
Anna. She said I deserve it too.
For some reason, this fact raised her spirits, far more than the objective proof of her confidence. Just having Anna in her corner did absolute wonders for her morale.
As if summoned by the mere thought of her, Anna peeked her head down the stairs. "Is your call over?" she whispered.
Elsa nodded. "Come on down," she said with a grin.
Anna tromped down the stairs, one hand on the railing and the other holding her Switch. She appeared to have taken a shower and gotten dressed – not exactly shocking, given that it was 11:30, but it was still good to see. "Boy, you got dolled up," she remarked.
Elsa chuckled. "Well, I am a professional businesswoman, as you are well aware," she said, with her fake haughty voice that never failed to get a laugh out of Anna. "I must look my best."
"Of course," giggled Anna. She raised her Switch. "Would the professional mind if I played in the living room while she worked? I'll be quiet."
"Go right ahead," Elsa said.
"Thanks!" Anna said. She kissed her on the cheek, then headed into the living room to dock her Switch. "Hey, I'm gonna make lunch," she called. "Do you want some Ramen? With, uh…green onions in it?"
"Oh," Elsa said, pleasantly surprised. "That sounds lovely, thank you."
"'Kay!" Anna shouted. She soon made it to the kitchen, the clattering of pans signaling the start of her efforts. Though she could hardly see the kitchen from where she was sitting, Elsa found herself gazing towards the noise with a smile.
She's sure come a long way in two weeks. Dare I take credit for that as well?
Not while I still have a chance to fuck it up.
It was nearly 8 pm by the time her workday was through – nothing new for her. She'd had a fun hour and a half as the setting sun blasted directly through the dining room window into her eyes, but that was long done, and it was now pitch black outside. Anna was still somehow on the Switch. She had kept her promise to be quiet – if she strained, Elsa could vaguely hear Pokemon-like noises coming from the living room.
Though the sound of her heartbeat nearly drowned those out.
For the twelfth time in as many minutes, Elsa patted herself down from head to toe, making sure every piece of her outfit was still perfectly in place. Not a hair or thread could be out of position, everything had to be pristine. The very second the clock ticked over to 8, she'd be calling Wes, and she still hadn't convinced herself that she'd be ready for it. No matter how well prepared she was, there could always be something to spoil it, some X factor to make him reconsider.
The clock struck 8. She was out of time, and out of things to straighten. She sat up as tall as she could, took a deep breath, and pressed the call button.
I've done all I can to prepare. Ready as I'll ever be, and isn't that terrifying?
Before long, Wes appeared on her screen. "There you are, Miss Winters," he said formally. "How was your day?"
"It was good, thank you," Elsa said, mind racing to determine whether he was asking for a report or merely exchanging a pleasantry. "And yours?"
"I can't complain," Wes said. "Though that hasn't stopped me before."
Cue forced laugh. "So which job would you like to hear about first?" she asked.
"Hmm? Oh, just…whichever job you find most newsworthy, I suppose," Wes said, waving his hand distractedly.
"Well, that would be…MP 210, I suppose," Elsa said. "The geotech report just came in, and we may have a bit of an issue."
Wes nodded, and assumed a thoughtful countenance as Elsa described the job. She'd organized the relevant information in a pastebin on her other screen, and memorized it to the point that she could recite it almost automatically, freeing up the majority of her brain for more anxiety. Since she was already studying Wes's face closely to try and divine his mood, she used that as a rubric to see if she had misspoken at any point. Her heart thundered away, like in that one Edgar Allen Poe story, and thankfully just as inaudible to the outside world.
"Well, everything seems to be well in order, from the sounds of things," Wes said once she had finished.
"I'd say so," Elsa said.
"Well, if there's nothing else, I'll see you tomorrow," Wes said, reaching for the End Call button.
Elsa was caught off guard. "Wait!" she blurted out. Wes recoiled in surprise. "Um, wait," she said, composing herself once again. "There was another issue I wished to talk about. One we discussed briefly, two weeks ago?"
"Ah, yes," Wes responded. "Regarding your managerial aspirations."
His face quickly became much more serious, and Elsa's heart sank like a stone. Still, she fought off true despair. He'd been known to act morose, then sprout a smile in a second and reverse his tone as a joke.
"That's right," Elsa said, patting down her hair once again as a nervous tic. "Have…there been any developments on that front?"
Wes sighed. "Yes, and not necessarily to the advantage of either of us." He steepled his fingers. "I'm afraid our department is no longer looking for a second manager."
A single hair fell from Elsa's bun, drifting in front of her wide open eyes.
"W-what?" she said, dumbfounded. She reached up and tucked the strand of hair back in line. "I…don't understand. We've been in need of another manager for years now. Is this…" She swallowed. "Is this a result of my performance? Because I believe I've been exceeding all expectations, and you insisted the remote work was no impediment-"
"You have, and it isn't," Wes interrupted. "This is unrelated to your personal qualifications, exemplary though they may be. It's no fault of your own, for what that's worth."
A few more strands of hair fluttered free. "Then what is it?" Elsa asked, her voice seeming to come from far away.
"Well, I'm sure you're aware by now, but last Wednesday, Aaron put in his two week's notice. Combined with James last month, and our other high profile departures, our team has contracted significantly," Wes explained. "Fewer soldiers require fewer generals, as it were."
Somehow, her left cuff had come unbuttoned. Elsa fiddled with the button under the table while doing some quick mental math.
"But wait, that still means we have four other members besides myself and you," she said. "We had only four when I started, and we had two managers then."
"Because we were anticipating growth, not further contraction," Wes said. "With our company in the position it's in, now is the time to knuckle down and fill the roles we've agreed upon, not haggle over new ones."
Now it was her right cuff that was undone. Elsa tried to fix it with trembling fingers. "I would still be performing my original duties," she pointed out. "If anything, I'd be more useful to the company."
"But not in the context we need from you," Wes said. "We're in need of the excellent engineer we know you to be, not the potentially good manager you may be after extensive training."
At this, Elsa actively winced. "…Potentially?" she repeated.
"Don't get me wrong," Wes said quickly. "The limited managerial role you've served so far has shown promise, just not enough to justify the substantial time investment. It's quite a gulf between where you are now and where you're thinking of, I assure you."
Elsa felt a lump of something forming in her throat, so she swallowed it down. "Yes, I'm…well aware of that much," she said.
Her mind was racing, trying to come up with something to say to change his mind, anything. She couldn't rightfully demand the promotion, or throw a fit like some spoiled brat. Still, she had to say something. She couldn't just roll over and take it with a smile, not after all this time.
"Wes, please," she said, leveling her voice out. "I've worked at this company for five years – not the longest time, I know, but it's been almost my entire professional career. And for three of those years, you've been telling me that management was in my future – my near future, were your words exactly."
"I know, and it's not fair to lead you on in this manner," Wes said sympathetically. "But the board often goes over my head on matters such as these. My hands are tied, I'm afraid."
And with that, it was as if a door had slammed shut. If the board had decided against it, there was nothing else she could do. The best she could do was to end the call before any more bombshells fell. "I see," she said weakly. "Thank you for your time."
"But chin up, Miss Winters," Wes said, suddenly cheery and animated. "We'll get a handle on this staffing shortage, and no mistake. We've partnered with a new recruitment agency, and doubled our hiring efforts besides. By this time next year, I have a funny feeling we'll have…"
Elsa couldn't hear the rest. The pit inside her stomach had turned into a bottomless chasm.
This time next year. The exact same words he used this time last year.
He seemed to have stopped talking, so she cleared her throat. "Yes, well…I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night." With a leaden arm, she moved her mouse and ended the call, then shut her laptop. Silence fell over the room.
She sat there, trying to take a few steadying breaths. With each exhale, though, she felt more unhinged. Sitting there in all her finery, with her black screens reflecting back her own pathetic visage, was only making things worse. So she pushed her chair back, losing both of her heels in the process, and stood up.
Another year. She'd believed it the first time he said it. The second time, she still had some benefit of the doubt left in her. She'd run out of that after she heard the particulars of James's resignation.
'No fault of your own', he said. Like that's supposed to make it better? To know that no matter what you did, you couldn't have done any better? That you were fucked from the moment they first laid eyes on your resume?
She began to walk, each footstep landing with a thud on the hardwood floor. Her shirt was untucked, and every step jostled more stray hair from her bun. What did it even matter? Wes sometimes called in wearing his pajamas, and she was still beneath him.
So what next? Threaten to resign, like a child throwing her dinner at the wall? Call up each member of the board and start licking their boots? Or just go back to work, knowing you'll never have a bigger desk than you do now?
She walked into the living room. Anna was still on the couch, eyes locked on her game. She began to turn when she heard her enter. "Hey, how was the-" she began.
She stopped the moment she saw Elsa's face. She turned off the television. "Oh, god," she breathed.
Elsa chuckled bitterly. "Written on my face, is it?"
"That fucking sucks. I'm so sorry, Elsa," Anna said. She held out her arms for a hug.
Elsa didn't move. "Sorry? Don't be. It's not your fault. It's…it's mine."
"Don't say that," Anna said.
"It is, though," Elsa insisted, unconsciously trying to tuck her hair back into its rigid bun. "Surely there's something I could've done differently. Maybe if I'd taken the initiative faster, wasn't so shy about asking for a promotion, it would've been different."
"Elsa," Anna said, her voice a little sharper.
"Or if not, I could've gotten out of there sooner," she babbled, very distinctly not meeting Anna's gaze. "There's tons of opportunities in Cali, there's no way all of them would-"
"Elsa, stop it," Anna said forcefully.
Her words cut through Elsa's in an instant. "Stop-stop what?" Elsa stammered.
"Stop lying to yourself," Anna demanded.
"No, I…I…" Elsa stammered.
She looked into Anna's eyes, sympathetic and pleading. Her voice faded to a murmur.
Anna held out her arms again. Elsa still couldn't bring herself to embrace her, but her legs were shaking. She half sat, half collapsed onto the couch beside her. Then, after a shuddering breath, she reached up and pulled out the pins from her hair, one by one. It fell around her face in messy cascades, and as she brushed the now damp strands from her eyes, she stared straight ahead.
"I've been running for so long," she began. Anna leaned towards her, but waited for her to go on. "Running from my feelings, from my home, from…you, from everything I've ever cared about. And…and I told myself that it wasn't just out of fear, I was also running towards something. A career, a life on my own-" She threw her hands up. "-I don't know, it doesn't matter." She sniffled. "Well, it's been five years now, and look where I am. Right back where I started."
Anna put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, Elsa, that's not true-"
"You're right," Elsa said, with a sharpness that made Anna jump. "I'm further back. I lost half a decade of my life to a job that doesn't care about me, in a city I barely even set foot in, and I tried to drag someone I didn't know into my own sick little world. Every time I had an important choice to make, every fucking time, I made the wrong one." Now the tears poured from her eyes. "I lost Mom and Dad, lost the last five years we could've had together, because…because of what I am."
She wept, and Anna pulled her into a hug. "It's okay," she murmured, stroking Elsa's hair. "It's okay."
"It's not okay!" Elsa cried, pushing Anna away a bit harder than she meant to. "I'm a failure! That's all I'll ever be! The only reason I haven't chased you away is because…because you're the kindest person I've ever met!"
Anna stared at her, glassy-eyed. "What the hell are you talking about?" she asked. She got to her feet and rubbed her forehead. "You, a failure? You're…you're Elsa!"
Elsa looked up at her. "What does that mean?"
Anna scoffed, as if the point was obvious. "Elsa Winters? Head of your class, As and Bs throughout all of grade school?" She began to pace back and forth. "You earned enough scholarships to pay for half your tuition! Then in college, you graduated after 4 years with a 3.8 GPA, and right after college, like two months after, you already landed a job!" Elsa began to blush, and Anna kept going. "Christ, I don't think I had a single teacher who could keep from gushing about you the second they read my last name."
"Well, when you…" Elsa began, then stopped. Anna's face had begun to shift.
"And then came me," Anna said, half to herself. "Little miss C+. At best. No matter how hard I tried to focus, I could just never get the same results as you."
She looked at Elsa with an expression that wasn't quite anger. Not anger at her, at least. Elsa recognized it instantly. "Anna-"
"You want to know what a failure looks like?" Anna demanded. "Did you ever notice how Mom and Dad stopped reading both of our report cards at the same time? They had to – they knew I'd start crying."
Elsa stared at her with wide eyes, her own woes now far away. "Anna, please," she said. "Don't go down this hole, it won't-"
"And my so-called 'college life'," Anna spat, self-loathing pouring off her words. "When I told you I dropped out because of the pandemic, did you really believe me?"
Elsa didn't answer. From the look in Anna's eyes, she really didn't want to continue, but the words just kept coming, like blood from an old wound reopened by a heavy impact. What had started as a pep talk had germinated into something much worse.
"Three semesters, that's as far as I made it," she said miserably. "It sure was a nice excuse, saying I just couldn't pick anything up if I wasn't there in person. If you'd only seen the grades I was getting before that…"
Elsa ran a hand through her unkempt hair. "Why didn't you tell me about this? I could've helped you."
"Yeah, I bet you would've," Anna said in a strange tone. "You would've taken that problem and put it on your back with all the rest of them, huh? Because that's just what you do. I bet you would've blamed yourself, too. Said if you'd only been here to hold my hand, it never would've happened?"
Elsa's face turned a deep red.
Anna pointed at her. "That's what you were thinking right now, wasn't it?" she demanded. "Whenever something goes wrong, it's always Elsa's fault, no matter what! Got stiffed for a promotion you clearly deserved? Must've not deserved it hard enough, right? Got feelings for your sister you can't deny? Better go halfway across the damn globe and try to will yourself straight! Sister's a fuckup who dropped out of college and got her parents killed? Well-"
Elsa's head shot up.
All the color drained from Anna's face. She slapped a hand to her mouth and started to tremble. "Why did I say that?" she mumbled, running a hand through her hair. "Oh, fuck me, why did I say that?"
"What do you mean by that, Anna?" Elsa asked her, keeping her voice as calm as could be expected."
"Nothing," Anna said lamely. "Just…leave it alone, forget I said it."
Anna was holding eye contact with her, and her eyes were wide and pleading. For the love of god, they seemed to say, don't make me tell you. It's the one thing that could make this night any worse.
And if Elsa had been able to grant her wish and never press her about it, what happened next…well, maybe it wouldn't have happened at all.
But she just couldn't. How could anyone turn themselves to stone and ignore what she'd just said? Especially when that would mean pivoting back to her own self-pity, when Anna had revealed herself to be in a far worse state than she had realized? Elsa had felt, for some time, that despite all the improvement Anna had made on the surface, there was still something she'd yet to address, weighing her down even as she tried to reach for the surface. Here it was, staring her in the face – what kind of sister would she be if she didn't address it?
She steeled herself, composing her face into an expression of sheer determination. "Tell me, Anna," she said firmly. "I've been nothing but honest with you from the moment I came back. Now it's your turn."
Anna didn't answer her. For the longest time, she stood there, running her hands through her hair over and over as a raging battle played out just behind her eyes. Elsa caught herself holding her breath and had to manually exhale.
Finally, Anna let out a defeated sigh. She walked over to the couch and collapsed back onto it. She'd managed to dislodge most of her hair ties, so hers too was now a disheveled mess. She stared down at her lap, breathing deeply. Then, closing her eyes, she began to speak.
"Earlier this year, I…gave up," she began.
Elsa reached out to her, concerned.
"On college, I mean," Anna quickly clarified. Elsa relaxed. "I told myself, might as well face the facts, I'm just not cut out for it. And if I'm not headed back to college, I might as well look for a job, right?"
Elsa nodded. She'd heard this much from Dad's texts.
"Well, I started applying," Anna said. "And then I…kept applying. I wasn't expecting anything for the first few months, but then…it hit four months. Then five. Then six. I kept sending out my resume, and…nothing. Or at best, a phone interview that didn't go anywhere." She looked up at Elsa. "I'm not going to tell you I was applying day and night, but it was a lot. Hundreds of resumes out there, and still…nobody wanted me."
Her voice cracked at the last line. Elsa's eyes watered.
"Then, last month…I did get a job." Elsa's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Anna shot out a rueful chuckle. "Yeah, I was fucking surprised too at that point."
"No, it's not like that," Elsa said quickly. "It's just…you never mentioned it in your texts."
"Figured I'd wait a few weeks, see how it went," Anna said. "But yeah, I was over the moon about it. Showed Mom and Dad the letter, wouldn't stop crying because of how happy I was that I'd finally be working." She exhaled. "In an Amazon warehouse."
Elsa winced.
"Oh, what's the matter?" Anna asked. "Can't picture your little sunflower in a reflective vest?"
Elsa's face turned red. She'd hoped Anna would've forgotten about that little pet name of hers long ago, for obvious reasons. She hadn't even allowed herself to think those words in relation to her.
"I…I've thought about that nickname a lot, recently," Anna murmured. Then she snapped her head up and spread her arms. "But hey, gotta be realistic, right? Isolation, mindless repetition, fucked up sleep schedule – right up my alley at that point, huh? So I jumped right into it. How bad could it be, right?"
She paused for a moment, then let out a sharp sigh and shook her head. "It was bad."
Heart aching, Elsa reached out for a hug. Anna rebuffed her.
"But still, I…I tried my best," she continued. "I showed up on time, I watched the training video, I did whatever they told me to do. I was the idea worker, I swear I was. And then…" She clutched her forehead, nails digging into the skin. "Then they fired me, two weeks in."
Elsa's hand flew to her mouth. "Two weeks?"
Anna nodded. "No warnings, no mistakes on my part. They didn't even tell me in person, I just came in one day and found a pink slip taped to my locker. Goodbye, good riddance, don't forget to grab your half a paycheck on the way out." She glared at Elsa, tears in her eyes. "You can't possibly know how that feels."
Elsa forced herself to keep her hands on her lap. "You're right," she said. "I can't."
Anna was shaking now, as if all her anger and grief were finally pushing themselves to the surface after an age of suppression. Still she kept talking, determined to get her story out before she fell apart completely. "I was…crushed. I spent the next two days in bed. If I wasn't good enough for fucking Amazon, what was I good for?"
She let out a long, shuddering breath. "So then, Mom came into my room. She said to get dressed, we were going to Pete's Italian Place. My favorite. A painfully obvious attempt to lift my spirits, but…but it did work. We don't go there often, because it's…s-so far away…"
Clarity struck, and Elsa could only brace herself for what came next.
"W-we got in the c-car," Anna stammered. "We g-got on the interstate, and…and then we…"
In the end, she couldn't finish the story. She broke down completely, sobbing into her hands.
Elsa felt grief welling up inside herself as well, and she had to fight her own tears down. "And you blame yourself for that?"
"Yes, I fucking do!" Anna shouted. "If I wasn't such a fuckup, it never would've happened! We'd have just had a nice dinner at home, and heard about the truck driver on the news! Mom and Dad would still be here, and…and…and you wouldn't!"
With this, she utterly collapsed, burying her head in the sofa and bawling like a baby.
Elsa was at a loss. So much had been revealed to her so fast, all she could do at first was just stroke Anna's back, trying to calm her down. She made little progress there, but her mind was working in overdrive, and she pushed herself to reach conclusions she'd shied away from before. As Anna's tears began to fade, Elsa's resolve strengthened.
"Anna," she said once she felt her sister could hear her. "Anna, listen to me. It's not your fault. Do you hear me? It's not your fault!"
Anna turned her head and glared. "Yeah, because it's yours, right?" she said with a sniffle.
Elsa shook her head. "It's not my fault either. It isn't Mom or Dad's fault, and it isn't even the truck driver's." She drew her legs in and got up on her knees, her face mere feet away from Anna's.
Anna looked at her, mystified. "T-then…who…"
"Nobody. It was just bad luck," Elsa said. "Cataclysmically, unimaginably bad luck, the one-in-a-billion lottery everyone on this planet plays every time they decide to step out their front door. There's no blame to be handed around, nothing in hindsight to feel guilty about. It could've just as easily been a lunatic who ran up to them on the street, or an out-of-season tornado – it would've been just as far out of our hands as this was."
"But…why us, Elsa?" Anna asked with a trembling lip. "Why them?"
"Because life doesn't give you what you deserve," Elsa said. "Sometimes you do everything right, you eat all your vegetables, suffer through every single misery you've been saddled with, and life just spits in your face. Everything we think we're 'supposed to do', every reward we're promised – it's all make believe. Just a shape we drew in the dirt so the world would make more sense to us."
Anna's eyes were wide once again. "So what do we do about it?"
"Whatever we can," Elsa declared. "Nobody else out there is going to hand us anything on a silver platter. You care about me, and I care about you – that's all either of us can rely on. All we can do is trust that each of us wants what's best for the other, and try to make it happen as hard as we can."
She was fully into her speech now, gesturing with both arms. She'd worked herself up so much, she didn't even notice that Anna wasn't crying anymore, and she barely registered the new look on her face.
"And if something stops us, then maybe we turn 180 degrees and run in the other direction," Elsa continued. "There's no prewritten destiny we need to live up to, all we can do is be as happy as we can for as long as we can, however we-"
Anna kissed her.
Elsa's eyes shot open, and her mind flew into panic. Like an old disaster movie, long inactive warning sirens blared in her head. Yet as Anna continued to kiss her, leaning forward into her, Elsa couldn't bring herself to do anything but go along. When Anna's tongue darted forward, Elsa could do nothing but open her mouth, sighing as the hotness of Anna's breath flew into her. She felt herself leaning backwards until her head came to rest upon the arm of the sofa, and now Anna's whole body pressed down upon her. Her whole body tingled with electricity, and pleasure like she'd only dreamed of flooded her mind, obscuring all other thoughts.
It felt like ages before Anna pulled back, slowly lifting her body off of Elsa's. She remained above her, gazing down with a dazed look in her eyes and panting heavily. The two were still connected by a thin strand of saliva.
Somehow, Elsa found her voice. "That wasn't what I-"
"I don't care," Anna said.
They kissed again.