Chapter Text
A headache woke her in the morning, the sharp edges of it vicious as Lena groaned, grey light flooding her bedroom through a gap in the curtains. In the light of the morning, the drinking last night had brought no relief, the punishment of it feeling unnecessarily cruel as she wallowed in her nausea, feeling clammy and leaden, until she forced herself to get out of bed.
Having a cold shower, she dressed in thin clothes and swallowed a few pills, trying to mitigate the symptoms of her drinking. Kara had already been and gone, and Lena plodded upstairs to check on her mom, rapping her knuckles on the door and sticking her head inside. Lillian was staring vacantly at the TV, propped up on pillows, looking skeletal and grey, the sight of her rattling Lena every time she looked at her for more than a second, drinking in the signs of illness.
“Morning,” she mumbled, raking back damp hair. “Did you need anything?”
Staring at her, Lillian considered it for a second, an apprehensive look crossing her face. “Would you mind taking me somewhere today?”
“Take you somewhere? Can you- I mean, are you even allowed?”
“Am I allowed?” Lillian huffed with amusement, struggling to push herself up, seeming so feeble that Lena had to look away. “Don’t be … ridiculous, of course I’m … allowed.”
She had to pause to catch her breath, coughing into a handkerchief already spotted with dried blood, and Lena’s mouth thinned as she rubbed her jaw. It was no use trying to argue that her mom could barely get out of bed, Lena trying to remember the last time she’d actually seen her downstairs - five nights ago, when they’d fought - and she tried to picture how she was going to get Lillian downstairs and into the car, and then deal with her wherever they were going.
“Where do you want to go?”
“I thought we’d go visit … their graves.”
“Oh. Right. Sure, we can do that,” Lena awkwardly replied.
Since returning, she hadn’t even considered visiting the graves of her father and brother, taking flowers and standing in front of the engraved headstone. Lena had only been there once, for her father’s funeral, and never again, not even after learning of her brother’s passing. It had seemed pointless and her mom never offered anyway, so it surprised Lena to hear that Lillian wanted to go now. It was probably her last chance though, so Lena afforded her some sentimentality.
“Um … I’ll get you some clothes. Was there anything that’s comfortable for you or …?”
“Just … something out of the drawers,” Lillian gestured towards the chest of drawers. “Thank you.”
Rummaging through them, Lena pulled out a pair of folded pants and a thin matching sweater, the cashmere soft in her hands. They were ribbed knit, the pants legs wide and the sweater with a high neck, and Lena thought it would be warm enough to take her out in. She set them down in her mom’s lap and then paused as she watched Lillian weakly push herself up, shoulders heaving at the exertion of swinging her legs over the side of the bed, of sitting upright.
“Do you need help? Should I-”
Her mother was silent for a moment, her hair hiding her face from view. “I don’t know,” she gravelly answered after a moment, grudgingly admitting it.
“Okay,” Lena murmured, hesitating before stepping in.
It wasn’t that she wanted to do it, would have preferred not to and was thankful she’d been relatively undependable until that point, merely fetching medication, food and drinks, occasionally helping her in and out of cars or upstairs, but that had been it. Still, it was evident her mom needed help and she wouldn’t ask for it herself, so, despite her conflicting feelings towards her, Lena stepped in and picked up the sweater.
Lillian was unbuttoning her pyjama shirt and Lena felt her throat get tight as she saw how prominent her mom’s collarbones were, her sternum too visible. Perhaps even more shocking was it mirrored how Lena had looked in the bathroom mirror earlier that morning. She tried not to look, affording her mother as much of her dignity as she could, pulling the neck of the sweater down over her head and letting her work her arms through. She helped her out of her pyjama pants and into the ribbed ones then, fetching socks and slippers and then helping her out of bed. Lillian moved in a slow, shuffling gait, gripping Lena’s arm tightly as she led her to the door.
It felt as if it took forever, her mom so tall but so feeble, leaning on Lena, who was too short to keep her propped up straight and didn’t know how fast she should go. Lillian’s breaths came quickly by the time they’d even reached the top of the stairs, and she gripped the bannister for balance, taking each step at a time with Lena on her other side, holding her in a tight grasp. When Lillian stumbled, her whole body sagging to the steps, Lena almost slipped down the stairs in her haste to catch her, her arms around her mom’s middle, feeling the weight of her press against her as she pushed her upright. Quiet, panicked breaths escaped Lena as she felt her mom’s fingers dig into her shoulder, pushing herself back, and their eyes met, a shallow divot between Lena’s eyebrows.
“Mind you don’t break an ankle,” Lillian anxiously cautioned her.
With a soft huff, Lena took her arm again, her other hand jammed in the armpit of her mother’s sweater to better bear her weight. They made it to the bottom of the stairs and Lena already felt so defeated, guiding Lillian down onto the bottom step as she breathed shallowly, running a hand through her hair.
“I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I can’t carry you around.”
Scoffing, Lillian gestured dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous; there’s a wheelchair in the laundry room closet.”
“I- there’s a wheelchair?” Lena flatly echoed.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Hovering a moment, she turned and went to fetch it. It took some fiddling for her to set it up, muttering under her breath as she nudged the footrests into place, smacked the rumpled seat flat, before she wheeled it out. Situating it before her mom, she put the brakes on and then moved over to the coat rack, fetching her mother’s warmest one as well as the new Burberry scarf she’d gotten for Lena. Helping her mom into her coat, Lena folded the scarf and looped it around her neck as well, Lillian watching her with an arched eyebrow.
“This is your scarf.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“Yes, I’m just making sure you’re warm.”
“Make sure you’re warm. Honestly, how you haven’t … caught a cold yet is beyond me.”
Rolling her eyes, Lena fussed with the scarf and then buttoned her mom’s coat up before hauling her to her feet and into the wheelchair. Slipping on her running shoes and puffer coat, Lena deliberated over hats and gloves for them, the weather so bitterly cold that she thought they shouldn’t be outside without being properly bundled up if they weren’t exercising. In the end, she just fetched her mom’s cashmere blanket from the back of the sofa, the two of them bickering as Lillian scolded her for walking on the rug with her shoes on, and Lena tucked the blanket over her lap before fetching the car keys and opening the front door.
It was a whole other mission to drag Lillian through the front door in her wheelchair, locking up the house and then wheeling her to the steps, which Lena had to help her stand and walk down, leading her to the car and getting her settled in the passenger seat. She tucked the blanket over her again, feeling the keen cut of the cold herself, and went back for the wheelchair, struggling to collapse it as she stood at the open trunk of the car, her frustration welling. She managed it in the end, slamming the trunk closed and climbing behind the wheel. Starting the engine, the edges of the windshield rimed with frost, Lena cranked the heating up and tried to dispel the fogginess of the windows as she backed out.
“I think it might snow soon,” she murmured, ducking her head to try and look at the white sky.
“Mm, it’s overdue.”
“Should we- do you want to stop for flowers?”
“I doubt the store will be open; the frost would just kill them anyway.”
“Right.”
They didn’t speak much the rest of the way to the small cemetery in Amagansett where Lionel and Lex were buried. There was one a little closer in Montauk, but Elizabeth had been buried there and Lena had always had the sense that Lillian had buried her husband somewhere else out of spite. It made no difference to Lena - she’d never visited anyone’s graves.
Pulling up outside the cemetery, she stared at the scattered headstones through the white wooden fencing enclosing the grounds, bare trees standing guard over them. When she’d been there for her dad’s funeral, the trees had been green. Fetching the wheelchair, Lena helped Lillian into it and started to push her towards the entrance, her breath fogging before her as she rolled her along, birds flitting in the bare branches, the stillness of the day peaceful. Her cheeks were quickly bitten red, throat scoured by the cold, and as she gripped the handles of the wheelchair in stiff fingers, she wished she’d opted for the gloves.
Her dad had died so long ago that Lena couldn’t even remember where they’d buried him, relying on her mom for directions as she pushed her across the patchy grass. Lillian stopped her in front of two headstones, side by side, one bigger than the other with a portion of the stone left blank. It was obviously for her mom and Lena wondered if it all felt a bit surreal that in a few weeks, her name would adorn the slab of marble and her body would be in the ground right where they were standing. Lena didn’t even know what to say, staring at the words carved into the marble, her father’s name and her brother’s, the years they were born and died. Since she’d come back to Midvale, since her mom had gotten sick, her words didn’t mean what they were supposed to, everything so awkward, so difficult to articulate. She couldn’t say what she was thinking.
They stayed there for quite a while, Lena jamming her fingers into her armpits to warm them, shifting from foot to foot, her sweatpants doing a poor job of fending off the cold of the cutting wind. After minutes of silence, she gruffly cleared her throat, staring at the back of her mom’s head, watching her turn slightly as she waited for her to speak.
“Did you ever love him?”
“Who, your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course I did - when we were younger. He was charming, handsome, very confident. He was … quite the catch. He wasn’t … the same man you knew when I met him.”
“Why’d you stay with him?” Lena softly asked.
Memories of doors being slammed, things being broken, crept up on her. Her childhood was a haze of those memories, nothing clear but all of it woven with the prickle of fear, the raised voices that kept her up at night, the sound of her brother pleading, standing in the doorway when she was older, watching her parents fight, tensed as she waited for her dad to hit her mom. He never did, or he didn’t do it in front of her, but she always worried he would, watching him scream at her, red-faced and drunk, nose-to-nose with Lillian, whose anger was always cold. Sometimes he’d yell at her too, his favourite, suddenly the enemy as she begged him to stop, an easy apology the next day as he hoisted her into his arms, laughing and telling her how marvellous she looked in her tutu, a kiss planted on her cheek. The only time she was ever shown affection was as an apology.
“It wasn’t so … straightforward,” Lillian haltingly replied. “We cared about each other very much. We married each other, for good or ill, and it was the right thing to do to … stay and make it work. For the two of you. Even after … everything.”
Lena quietly scoffed, a wry smile flitting across her face. “Right.”
They lapsed into silence for a few moments and Lena licked her lips, her throat dry. “Did you ever regret having me?”
It was a silly question; she didn’t think even her mother was callous enough to say yes to that. Still, there was a prickle of fear, Lena unsure if she wanted to go down that road. But her mom had said she wanted them to talk about everything before she died, so Lena asked.
“No, not having you,” Lillian sighed.
Lena waited for the rest, sensing a but. She could feel her mother struggling to find the words, letting out a short huff of impatience, perhaps frustration, before she spoke, her words a little clipped, very reluctant.
“From the moment your brother was born, it was very straightforward. I was meant to love him and it was always that way. With you … it’s never been one feeling. I don’t mean that I didn’t love you, only that it was more complicated-”
“I know,” Lena murmured.
“You don’t know,” Lillian curtly replied. “What would you know about an affair child? I was younger than you are now when I had your brother, I did everything I was supposed to; I got married, went to medical school, had a son for him, kept a nice home. And then eight years later I find out about her . I chalked it up to a mistake, but then nine months later, she had you … and then she died. Forty-one with a four-year-old. It wasn’t very easy for me.”
“Yeah, I- I get that. I don’t think you were very fair to me though.”
“Fair? What even is fair? You might think I was too harsh, but I wanted you to have more than I did. I wanted you to be great at something, to have something purposeful to do, not suffer from the attention I couldn’t give you. You were always the one I didn’t have to worry about. You were the easy one; it was your brother who needed me.”
Lena closed her eyes, taking a moment to swallow the hard truth. She rummaged in her pockets and pulled out her cigarettes, slipping one free and moving away from her mom, downwind, before lighting it. The wind was so brisk, blowing the smoke away before she could even exhale it fully, and she seethed quietly before speaking.
“I needed you too.”
“Perhaps in hindsight,” Lillian hedged. “But you were so independent . I didn’t know you needed me there, didn’t think you wanted me there.”
Swallowing thickly, Lena couldn’t untangle the longing ache she felt for the mother she’d never had. Lillian wasn’t maternal enough, never affectionate or kind, never subscribing to the usual standard of motherhood. Lena would’ve killed to have had that. It left her bitter and jealous, seeing mothers and daughters together, craving the ease that they had. How many girls in her company called their moms daily? How many of them were eager to see them in the layoffs between rehearsals, family vacations and home for the holidays? That was why Lena had sandwiched herself in with Andrea and Sam, the two other women there who understood what it was like to have complicated relationships with their mothers.
“I didn’t think I had much say in the matter,” Lena rasped, narrowing her eyes against the wind as Lillian watched her smoke, coughing into her handkerchief before responding.
“No, perhaps not.”
Licking her lips, shoving one hand in her coat pocket, the soft nylon shell rustling, Lena deliberated for a moment. “I’m not sure it would’ve made much difference though. How things are between us. I don’t think you being around more would’ve changed much; I probably would’ve hated that more. I already felt like I didn’t have any freedom.”
“Funny,” Lillian hummed. “I always saw you as … having the freedom I never did. And I wanted that for you. The freedom to travel, to- to … pursue a career in the arts, to not settle down for a man - or, well ...”
Lillian had so rarely acknowledged Lena’s sexuality, and even then, only in the vaguest of mentions, and it sparked anger in Lena as her mom let out a breathless laugh. Jaw clenched, the butt of the cigarette between her chapped lips, Lena gave her a flat stare for a moment before she pulled the cigarette free and exhaled roughly.
“Yeah, well, I never really had that freedom in the end either, did I?”
Clearing her throat, her hands clenched beneath the blanket covering her lap, Lillian stared ahead, her eyes narrowed slightly. “You never would’ve understood why.”
Scoffing, Lena rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t I?”
“No. Even now, it would just be another … thing for you to hold against me. I’d still like … to talk about it, if you’d listen. Somehow … I think it would be easier to talk about that than the rest of it.”
“Talk about what?”
Bewildered, Lena dropped her cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it, exhaling her lungful of smoke. Lillian coughed into the handkerchief again, a wet sound, rattling in her chest, and waved a hand in an airy manner.
“The things I did that you don’t … agree with. Or understand. You might actually listen to me admitting … my faults.”
Scoffing, Lena smiled thinly and walked back over to her mother, gripping the handles of the wheelchair. “I’m good.”
“You don’t even … know what I’m going to- to say.”
“It wouldn’t change anything. What could you possibly say that would change anything? Are you ready to go?”
At her mother’s nod, Lena jerked the chair back and angled her mom back the way they’d come. It was hard work pushing the wheelchair across the ground and she listened as her mom answered.
“You have a lot of resentment for me,” Lillian hoarsely replied.
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, I just don’t think listening to you explain how it was for my own good is going to change much.”
Lillian waved a hand, her annoyance evident. “Well, seeing as you already know everything. I’m trying to right a wrong here, but if you don’t want to listen … I wash my hands of it.”
Lena was surprised by how irate her mother seemed, almost angry by her refusal to hear her out. She’d heard every reason under the sun though, her childhood filled with comments about how it was for her benefit, how Lillian was just doing what was best, she would see it one day that it was for her own good, it was better this way and she’d thank her for it when she was older. So far, Lena had very little to thank her mom for. She only felt real gratitude to her for the flat in London and the regular sum of money transferred into her account.
“You’ve had years to right whatever wrong you’re talking about. If you- if you really wanted to fix things between us, you would’ve done it a long time ago. I’m not interested in … any of that,” Lena haughtily explained. “You might not feel like you owe me an apology, and that’s fine, I’m not going to force you to, but that also means you don’t have my forgiveness. For any of it.”
“It’s not for my benefit. I’ll be dead in a few weeks, regardless, but I thought the honesty might clear some things up.”
Heaving a sigh, Lena grimaced. “Fine, what is it?”
“No, not like this.”
Her frustration growing, Lena threw a hand up in a helpless gesture. “Are you kidding?”
“This isn’t the way I want to have this conversation. I thought it was a good opportunity before, but now the moment’s passed, so …”
“Sure,” Lena tersely replied.
She wheeled her mother the rest of the way to the car, helping her into the front seat, folding up the wheelchair and stowing it in the trunk. The drive back was quiet and a little strained, and Lena couldn’t deny that it was eating at her a little to not know what her mom had been about to say, her curiosity piqued and her surliness ruining it.
Helping Lillian inside, Lena had to get her upstairs, a difficult process as her mom’s strength flagged, leaving Lena sweating by the time she got her onto the edge of the bed. Her mom waved away her help as Lena tried to undress her, only letting her remove the coat, scarf and slippers, before she pulled the blankets up over herself and told Lena she wanted to sleep. Leaving her resting in the dark, Lena made her way back downstairs, hanging up their coats, putting their shoes beside each other near the door, folding away the wheelchair.
Feeling restless, a little agitated, Lena glanced at the time on her phone - past lunch already - and deliberated. The fresh air had been numbing but the excursion with her mother hadn’t been quite as fulfilling as she’d hoped, the rather honest conversation circling back around to Lillian trying to talk things through with her, things Lena didn’t want to hear, knowing no apology was coming, only excuses and reasons, things that wouldn’t change her mind, only serve to make her more resentful.
The truth was it didn’t matter what her mom said; they were simply too distant from each other, and too similar in their personalities to overcome it. For all of Lillian’s claims of Lena not being so mysterious as she imaged herself to be, Lillian had never understood her daughter. Not really. She’d tried to make Lena into something she didn’t quite fit, and Lena had tried for so many years before she’d outgrown it, because that’s what happened as a child grew and changed, developed their own personality, their own interests. Except, instead of letting her choose for herself, her mother had forced her to be what she wasn’t, and so they had steadily grown further apart, with no hope of bridging the gap.
In the end, Lena went upstairs and stripped off her clothes, sliding on tights and a leotard, quietly removing the key from the nightstand and padding downstairs. She had her pointe shoes in hand, shell pink ribbons dangling from her grasp, and stood at the open back door, a lit cigarette between her lips as she deftly tied the ribbons low around her ankles, sneaking outside to unlock the garage and shut herself inside. Lillian would never know, sleeping in her room, probably too exhausted to even get out of bed for the rest of the day. Too tense, too much irritation and bitterness building within, Lena tried to vent some of it by dancing as she put on some music and took up position at the barre for the first time in a fortnight.
Summer passed by too fast.
The morning of her last day in Midvale, Lena woke early and showered before dressing for the beach. Her mom was already at the hospital so she snuck a cigarette on the back porch, burying the butt in the trash before she slipped on her sneakers and grabbed a beach towel from the closet. She packed a bag, slathering sunscreen on her skin and donning one of Kara’s baseball caps she’d stolen and a pair of sunglasses, before heading out the door.
Kara was pulling up outside, the windows of her car rolled down, a tanned arm slung along the side as she grinned at the sight of Lena. Hurrying down the front porch steps, Lena opened the door and shoved her bag at her feet before buckling herself in.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Kara replied, craning her neck as she backed out of the driveway. “So … last day. What do you want to do?”
Lena snorted, glancing into the back of the car, where the rear seats were folded down to squeeze in the surfboard shoved into the trunk. Humming, she drummed her fingers on the door, raising her eyebrows.
“Did you change your plans?”
“Okay, well, I’m not going to surf all day. I thought maybe we could hit up Big Belly Burger. Fries and a milkshake?”
“Oh, well, you know how much I love their shakes,” Lena said with a crooked smile.
“And what do you want to do?”
“Anything. As long as it’s with you.”
“Need any new books to take with you? We can go to the bookstore, check out the science section. Or I still have a few sweatshirts you haven’t managed to steal yet, if you wanted to finish raiding my closet.”
Lena snorted, poking her arm. “If you didn’t drag me into the water every day, I wouldn’t need to borrow dry clothes. I can get them for you when you drop me off later.”
“Keep them,” Kara insisted. “I don’t mind.”
“I’ll give them back next time I’m home; they won’t smell like you anymore by then.”
Kara glanced over at her, her eyebrows rising slightly. “Is that why you keep them?”
“I- no,” Lena quickly lied. “I just keep forgetting to give them back, seeing as you never come inside, but … well, they do smell like you. It’s nice.”
Reaching over, Kara squeezed her hand, a small smile on her lips. “I’ll just have to wear them a lot so you can steal them again.”
“Perfect,” Lena laughed.
Kara drove them to her favourite stretch of beach, near the abandoned fisherman’s cottage, where the waves were good and a little up-coast from the locals. It was too far south from Montauk for the tourists as well, only a few other beachgoers around as they walked barefoot on the sand, Lena carrying their bags as Kara hauled her surfboard down through the dunes. Seagulls cried out and it was slightly windy, clusters of seaweed dragged across the sand, but it was a beautiful day, tainted somewhat because Lena would be gone tomorrow and it would be months before she would be at the beach with Kara again.
They put their things down far enough up to the beach for the tide to not reach it, and Lena watched Kara pull on her wetsuit and run into the surf without hesitation. Sitting on the sand, applying more sunscreen, trying to drag it out for as long as possible so she could keep watching Kara, Lena watched her cut through the waves, paddling along on her board. There had always been something beautiful about her friend, a certain warmth and earnestness that amplified her doe-eyed looks and charming smiles.
Waiting until Kara had gotten in a few good waves, weaving along the barrel until she rode into the shallows, Lena dusted sand off her palms and undressed. Kicking up dry sand, she walked down to the surf and let it rush over her toes, watching as Kara took notice, letting a little wave push her back to shore before she unstrapped the board from her ankle and pushed it the rest of the way up onto wet sand. She turned to Lena then, grinning as she picked up speed as she reached her, splashing water everywhere as Lena groaned with laughter, trying to shelter herself as the water lapped at her knees. Kara caught her around the waist, hoisting her off her feet as they both laughed, Lena drawing her knees up, her arms locked over Kara’s, still around her waist.
“Don’t drop me!” she warned her.
There was a smile in Kara’s voice as she managed to swing Lena up into her arms, carrying her properly instead of hauling her along. “I would never.”
Arms around her neck, feeling the sun-baked warmth of her skin, counting the freckles across her nose, Lena clung to her as she blinked away tears. The sound of her friend’s infectious laughter cut through her with longing, and Lena closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips, which pressed against Kara’s neck. It wasn’t a kiss; they were both too nervous for anything so obvious in public, this thing between them a secret, neither of them wanting any attention drawn to it in such a small town where everyone knew everyone’s business.
As far as they were concerned, there was already one person too many who knew what was going on. It was the main reason why Kara never went to Lena’s house, why they were always at hers or the beach, parked up somewhere in her car, or occasionally inside the abandoned cottage in the dunes. Lena knew that if her mom walked into her room and saw Kara in her bed, she’d suffer worse than a slap. Her fear was her mom would pack up her entire room and ship her off to London for good if she even had an inkling about what her daughter got up to on the holidays. But a part of her had to question how her mom couldn’t know. Lena was almost seventeen, definitely old enough for her mom to suspect she was having sex, but she wondered whether Lillian just didn’t care, as long as she didn’t have to acknowledge it, as long as Lena was away for most of the year to focus on ballet, as long as it wasn’t with a boy who could knock her up and ruin her career before it even started. Either way, she prayed her mom remained ignorant.
“Are you ready?” Kara asked, her voice low, eyes bright as she stood waist-deep, holding Lena close to her chest, the damp wetsuit cold against her body.
Lena nodded and squeezed her eyes shut as Kara counted down from three, both of them sucking in quick lungfuls of air before they went under. Kara’s arms loosened around her but she didn’t let go entirely, both of them diving under the forming wave, hand-in-hand, the world a deep blue around them, the brightness of the sun sparkling above, salt burning Lena’s eyes as she kicked furiously. She didn’t like the ocean, but she loved the water, the way it took the burden off her body and made her weightless, no pain, no aches, simply nothing, as if her body wasn’t her own anymore.
Surfacing a moment later, Lena squeezed Kara’s hand tightly, her heart pounding from the adrenaline of being in the ocean, her feet unable to touch the floor anymore. As much as she loved it, swimming was always cut through with an edge of fear as well, that lurking knowledge that her mom had walked into the ocean and never walked back out, so Lena only ever swam with Kara, trusting her friend would never let anything hurt her.
They basked in the sea for the rest of the morning, a relatively calm day for their last swim together as they easily pulled through the cool water before climbing out. They sat on the sand to dry off in the sun, salt on their skin, braiding each other’s damp hair, watching as the tide slowly went out. Once it was, they packed up their things and walked along the firm sand, Kara picking up pretty shells and handing them to Lena, both of them picking over colourful stones, clumps of seaweed and the whitened remains of crabs. The sun was hot on their necks and shoulders and they shared sideways glances and fleeting touches, like they couldn’t bear not to touch but couldn’t pluck up the courage it would take to hold hands, heading south towards the main beach of Midvale, overrun by locals who would know them.
As they approached town, they took in the clusters of families sharing lunch on sandy towels, friends lounging in the deckchairs with books open on their stomachs, men playing football and people wading out past the break of the waves. Kara saw her sister with some friends, waving as they continued on their way up the wooden planks of the path cutting through the dunes, the white paint of the wooden buildings on the beachfront blistering from the salt. Parents bought their children ice creams, which melted quickly in the heat of the day, and the sidewalk was hot as they walked down the street, making their way to Big Belly Burger as they talked.
They shared their fries and got a chocolate milkshake each, Lena quite good at pretending to drink hers, using conversation as a way to distract Kara from noticing she didn’t eat many of the fries, the thought of the ice cream and fryer oil making it hard for Lena to force it down, knowing it would come up so easily later. Sitting in the shade of the awning outside the burger joint, it all felt impossibly normal, so easy between them, and yet, for all their ease, they were both so conscious of their feelings towards the other, trying to stamp them down so they could let it stay as easy as it was.
They walked back along the beach afterwards, going for another swim, Kara’s shoulders turning slightly pink, the afternoon wearing on. Slowly, the tide started to come back in, the beachgoers packing up and going home, the sun dipping westwards as the day cooled slightly. They’d be out all night together though, right up until Kara’s curfew, and they sat in the dunes for a while, the grass smoothed down by the breeze sweeping in, talking about anything and everything but leaving. Kara barely even spoke about college, despite leaving in a couple of days too.
There was a certain pall cast over the evening, suffused with longing and sadness, and they stayed on the beach, watching the sky turn lavender as it grew late, before they packed into Kara’s car and she drove them out to their favourite secluded spot on the western side of the island. Under the cover of a thicket of trees, her car parked up on a patch of bare earth, they felt the air between them change, climbing into the back seat of the car as they undressed each other, making the most of their remaining time together before they parted again.
Lena would’ve gladly stayed in the back of the car forever, tasting the salt on Kara’s skin, feeling her strong hands on her body. It was a tight fit but they were used to it from their nights spent driving around, windows down and music playing before they came out there to be alone, no mention of what it meant for them to have sex in secret. Feeling even sadder than usual, Lena couldn’t even ground herself in the moment, quiet and distracted, Kara repeatedly asking her if she was okay, anxiously stopping and starting, Lena silencing her with kisses, touching her instead until Kara was laying on her chest. Their clammy skin stuck together in the heat and Kara heard the way Lena’s heart raced, the way she drew in sharp, shallow breaths, before she pushed herself up to kiss her and tasted the tears, realising she was crying.
“Are you crying?” she whispered as she pulled back.
“No,” Lena quickly replied, her voice thick with tears, so obviously crying.
She quickly wiped her cheeks, trying to make it seem as furtive as possible, glad that it was dark and Kara wouldn’t be able to make out much of her expression. Still, she felt Kara’s fingers brush over her skin, a spasm in Lena’s chest as she felt her cheeks warm.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Lena didn’t know what to say. How could she explain that even though she’d left first, it felt like Kara was leaving her ? She was going off to college, leaving childhood behind and Lena with it, and some of Lena’s sadness could be attributed to jealousy, wishing for that sort of freedom, but it was largely because she was worried Kara would meet new people and forget about her. They’d be on the opposite sides of the ocean, but instead of her usual life, Kara would be making a new one and Lena didn’t know how she’d fit into that. She was preemptively grieving the end of things the way they were, and she tried to feign nonchalance as she cleared her throat, fumbling in the dark back of the car for her clothes.
“Nothing, I just- you know I hate going back, and I’ll miss you and all of that, but … it’s fine, I’ll get over it. And you won’t be here anyway, so …”
“Yeah, but it won’t change anything,” Kara earnestly insisted. “We’ll even be able to Skype each other now when I get my laptop; how cool is that? You’ll probably get sick of seeing my face so much.”
She laughed, the sound wavering and earning no response from Lena as it fell silent inside the car. They could hear the crashing waves for a moment and Lena swallowed her resentment and jealousy, pulling her t-shirt back on and brushing her hair out of her face.
“I won’t judge you if you fuck someone else as soon as you get to college.”
Shock crossed Kara’s face, quickly crumpling to confusion. “Oh, okay. I never said I was going to.”
“I know. I’m just saying, we- you know, you’re not my girlfriend, so …”
“Right.”
There was a palpable tension in the back of the car as Lena continued to search for her clothes, pulling socks on, handing Kara a pair of denim shorts, finding her scrunchie as she pulled her dark hair up. Kara quietly dressed in her seat, fiddling with the strings of her hoodie once she’d gotten her clothes back on, frowning as she brooded for a moment before speaking.
“I just don’t understand why you’d say that,” Kara said, annoyed, maybe a little hurt.
“Huh?”
“Why do you think that’s what I’d want to do?”
“I don’t, I just don’t want you to feel like you … owe me anything, or anything like that.”
“I-“ Kara floundered for a moment. “Okay.”
They fell silent again, heavy and oppressive, before Kara cleared her throat, her expression clouded. Raking her hand through her half-undone braid, she pushed herself up, stooping as she angled herself between the front seats.
“I should take you home.”
“Okay,” Lena whispered, climbing into the passenger seat after her.
Except the idea of going home nauseated her, and she didn’t know how to tell Kara she didn’t want to go, that she wanted her to start the car and just keep driving. Instead, she was silent, fiddling with her hands in her lap as the headlights cut through the gloom of the night, trees blurring into a wall on either side, the silence heavy. She could’ve told her then, that she loved her, that she wanted to be with her and the thought of Kara with anyone else made her feel sick with jealousy, but Lena stayed silent.
Kara was pulling up outside the clapboard house fifteen minutes later and Lena wanted to kick herself for ruining what little time they’d had left together. Frustrated and upset, her eyes prickled with tears but she fought them back as she got her bag and climbed out of the car, Kara climbing out as well, rounding the yellow Excel so they could somewhat hide behind it, in case Lillian was watching through a window.
She briefly cupped Lena’s face in her hands, pressing her against the car door, touching their foreheads together, an ache suffusing them both. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, until Kara kissed her softly and then drew back slightly.
“Lena, I-“ Kara whispered, hesitating before she pressed her mouth into a grim line of resignation. “I’ll see you at Christmas.”
She wrapped her in a tight hug and Lena returned it, unable to see Kara’s pained expression as she buried her face in her shoulder, breathing in the smell of her. It just made Lena sad to leave her every time, and she knew that Kara was more frightened this time, leaving as well. She so desperately wished she was going with her.
“Good luck with college,” Lena whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re going to be amazing.”
Pulling back, Kara gave her a tight smile, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “Have a safe flight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.”
Hitching her bag higher on her shoulder, Lena made herself walk away, wearily plodding up the front porch steps, making her way to the other side of the house and taking a second to turn on the garden hose. She kicked off her shoes and ran the water between her toes, washing the lingering sand away as she tried to steady her uneven breaths, the pressure building behind her eyes.
Shutting off the water, she shook her feet to dislodge some of the droplets and then rounded the backyard, grass spongy beneath her feet, the hollow feeling in her chest expanding as she hesitated a moment, breathing quickly. Dropping her bag to the ground, she braced herself against the side of the garage and vomited into the grass, feeling the caustic taste of bile claw up her throat.
Drawing in shaky breaths, she remained stooped over for a second before sniffing and wiping her mouth, straightening up to let herself into the garage. Swapping her jeans for a pair of discarded sweatpants left on the floor, Lena tied on her shoes and sat on the garage floor with slumped shoulders as she scowled, blinking back tears that inevitably ran down her cheeks anyway, warming up her muscles as she dreaded the arrival of tomorrow.
The hours passed by, undisturbed as Lena lost herself in the familiar positions and movements, and her body hurt in a way that it hadn’t in a while, her time away from the garage leaving her a little tight. At the sudden flood of cold air a little before six, Lena dropped her arms and leg, turning en pointe as her stomach dropped. The panic of being caught dimmed as she found herself staring at Kara instead, leaning in the doorway in her blue scrubs, arms folded over her chest as she studied Lena.
“Oh. I thought you were my mom.”
“Um … no, I’m not sure if she-, uh, well, she told me she locked the garage, so if you’re trying to dance in secret, I don’t think she’ll find out about it herself.”
Lena understood the implication, that Lillian would no longer be able to make her way downstairs and out to the garage to pick a fight with her about it. Her mouth felt dry and she fought to swallow as she anxiously flexed her fingers.
“Is that your way of saying you’re going to tell her?” she said, one side of her mouth hitching into a wry smile.
Kara let out a soft laugh, a smile fleetingly crossing her face as she scuffed a Croc over the door jamb. “Um, no, no, I won’t tell. You keep my secret and I’ll keep yours. That is if you want to dance.”
“I didn’t steal the key for no reason.”
“Right.”
The music continued to play and they both stood there, staring at each other, the tension between them heavy. Bowing her head, Lena stared down at the box of her new shoes, already ruined from the bricks of the back porch, probably needing replacing again soon. She gently bit her bottom lip, waiting for Kara to leave or to say something - she wasn’t sure which she was hoping for - looking up at the sharp inhale a second later.
“Could you- would you mind- is it-”
“What?” Lena softly cut her off.
“Could you dance for me? Or … can I watch for a minute?”
That hadn’t been what she’d expected and Lena blinked at her, surprised. Mouth opening and closing for a moment, her expression crumpling with confusion as she cocked her head to the side, she stretched her ankles, searching for her words.
“You want to … watch me dance?”
“If that’s okay.”
“Why?”
“I always liked watching you dance,” Kara murmured, a smile in her voice. “I haven’t seen you dance in years.”
“Yeah, I bet The Nutcracker wasn’t as good as a half-assed practice in my garage,” Lena snorted.
“No, that was- that was pretty impressive. The full costume and all that. Um … I can’t say I remember much of everyone else, but I’m sure they were great too.”
Lena laughed, rolling her shoulders as she stretched her neck, side to side, considering it before she gestured to Kara. “Close the door.”
They almost could’ve been fifteen again, Kara quickly closing the door and taking a seat on the sprung floors of the garage, at the base of the wall, knees hugged to her chest, while Lena moved over to the barre. She stretched for a moment as the song came to a close and then listened as the next one started up. Scriabin’s Piano Sonata no. 2 in G-sharp minor. The music wasn’t anything she’d ever danced to professionally, but her mother had made her practice to all sorts of classical music to understand the rhythm and timing of ballet, so Lena picked the first routine she could think of that would fit, flowing into the Giselle Act 1 Variation as she moved away from the barre. Conscious of Kara’s eyes on her, feeling that need to impress her, to be good , holding her body in a perfect line on the tip of one foot, her body in her leotard and tights all lean muscle, pale and slender.
Finishing the variation, Lena came back down on flat feet, sweat starting to prickle her skin, her muscles aching from disuse. Her mouth tightened at the corners as her calf twinged, and she met Kara’s eyes as she tried to stretch it out. Her pulse was quick at her throat and she had to look away from the intense gaze of her old friend, Kara’s expression unreadable as she remained seated at the base of the wall. The music was still playing, another song ending and a new one starting up, and Lena breathed slowly as she stared at the floor.
“I see why you’re the best.”
“Mm,” Lena hummed, her bitterness palpable.
She sank to the floor in the middle of the garage, legs splayed before her. Leaning forward, she gripped the bottom of her right shoe and tried to stretch out the muscle, her hamstring a little tight as well, her feet aching from the force it took to stay en pointe. Curled up in her little ball, Kara propped her chin on her knee, her eyes trained on Lena, watching her.
“You said it hurts a lot.”
“Mhm. Dancing is usually the only time it doesn’t hurt, but … well, I haven’t danced much for the last two weeks so … everything’s a little sore.”
“You’d be better off with a massage than stretching if you’re trying to get rid of the pain.”
Lena raised her head, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I know that. I don’t have a massage gun or a massage therapist here, so I’m shit out of luck. I’ll gua sha them later.”
“Well, I’m not a massage therapist,” Kara said as she pushed herself to her feet, “but I have to do some mobility exercises at work sometimes. Here, let me try.”
Wariness flashed across Lena’s face as she watched Kara cross over to her, sinking to her knees in front of her. Raising her eyebrows slightly, a silent offer, Kara waited for Lena to move, resting on her elbows as she lifted a leg into her lap. Her hands were warm through the tights, her thumbs painfully digging into the tender muscle of Lena’s calf. Heart racing, Lena watched her knead her legs, a certain sense of pleasure filling her at the sight of Kara’s hands splayed over her tights, heightened by the pain of the massage.
She did both calves and flexed Lena’s ankles, slowly rotating them as she gripped the shoes tightly, working her way up to her thighs. Lena’s eyelashes fluttered, her chest rising and falling as Kara gripped her thigh in her hands, kneading her hamstrings, thumbs firmly smoothing over her quads. Laying flat on the floor, Lena dug the heels of her palms into her eyes as Kara gently pressed Lena’s knee towards her chest, stretching out her hamstrings, before moving onto the other leg. Hands dropping to her sides, she watched Kara massage the other one, Lena’s heel resting on her shoulder, trying not to think about how strange it all was, trying not to think about how much nicer it would feel to have her hands in other places too.
It was a losing battle and Lena was already taking one of Kara’s hands off her leg and guiding it up over her ribs, up to her chest. Surprise flashed across Kara’s face and she licked her lips, Lena’s leg still hooked over her shoulder.
“I thought you didn’t-”
“I said we shouldn’t have sex, not that I didn’t want to,” Lena brusquely interrupted.
“Oh,” Kara murmured, unmoving as she tried to process it all quickly. “Are you sure? Because I’d rather not do this if you’re just going to brush me off afterwards. It’s already confusing enough.”
“I’m sure. I- you know that’s not the problem.”
Considering that, Kara nodded after a second before she reached up to slide Lena’s heel off her shoulder, her hand ghosting up her thigh. She moved further up between Lena’s knees and hovered over her, leaning down until their mouths almost touched, their quick breaths shared in the space between their lips before Lena pushed herself up to kiss Kara.
Kara kissed her back with the same fervour but without the same urgency, one hand braced beside Lena’s head, the other still on her chest. Fisting a handful of Kara’s hair, Lena’s lips parted beneath hers, deepening the kiss, a tug low in her stomach, wanting the solid weight of her body flush against her own. Breaking off the kiss, Kara reached for the straps of Lena’s leotard, slowly easing one off her shoulder and then the other, getting no further than that before Lena clamped a hand over Kara’s fingers.
“Take your clothes off first,” she breathlessly ordered her, something vulnerable and anxious in her guarded gaze that made Kara obey.
Lena could never abide being the only one vulnerable, even if it was just the difference of the few minutes it took to undress someone else, so she always made them go first. Kara was more than willing, Crocs kicked off with heavy thuds, shedding her scrubs, the long-sleeved shirt beneath, every scrap of clothing with no self-consciousness about what Lena thought of her body. When she started to undress Lena again, it was tenderly, slowly peeling the leotard down her body as she trailed it with kisses. It took her a moment to unknot the ribbons of the pointe shoes, tossing them aside before Lena lifted her hips so she could slide the leotard down with the tights, taking them off too and discarding them.
Closing her eyes, Lena’s body was rigid as she lay on the cold sprung floor, a flush creeping up her neck as she willed Kara not to look at her, to just get on with it. She needed the distraction, something else to fixate on other than the reminder of her slowly imploding life, but when Kara touched her, it did anything but distract her. Forced firmly into the present, Lena felt Kara’s tongue in her mouth, her body flush against hers, lightly dragging her nails down Kara’s back as she sighed into the kiss.
She let her touch her and found her thoughts quietening, very aware of her own body and the things being done to it, almost teasing in the way Kara took her time, so different to last time but still shockingly grounding. Usually, Lena would just lie there, a relatively passive participant as she would struggle to remain inside her body, experiencing sex as if she was merely watching it happen to her. Not that she didn’t derive her own pleasure from it, but that never seemed attached to any specific kind of desire for another person, sex existing simply as a physical act for gratification. Until she’d found herself naked in Kara’s bed a few days ago, feeling every second of the admittedly very brief encounter, as if every nerve in her body had been alert. It was no different this time, and Lena didn’t think she had ever experienced anything so extreme or intentional with another person before.
She wasn’t quite sure how to process it as her back arched off the floor slightly, her face flushed pink, biting back Kara’s name so she could pretend that it wasn’t personal. With the heels of her palms pressed into her eyes, she drew in shaky breaths, trying to even out her breathing, feeling Kara’s lips tender on the inside of her thigh, hands warm on her hips as she pushed herself up.
“Are you alright?” Kara quietly asked, and Lena dropped her hands from her face, looking at her for a moment before she sat upright, kissing her roughly as she ran her hands down her body. Kara made a low sound into the kiss and broke it off, her hand covering Lena’s. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”
Staring at her for a moment, Lena brushed Kara’s hair out of her face and kissed her slowly, her hand continuing down the planes of her stomach as she shut her up rather effectively, kissing Kara’s throat as she tipped her head back. When she pulled back, Lena watched her, transfixed, lips parted, pupils wide as she studied Kara’s face, the way it crumpled, the way she screwed her eyes shut, cheeks flushing pink. Kara’s hands gripped Lena’s waist and she felt her nails bite into her skin, holding her tightly in place as she buried her face into the side of Lena’s neck, her breath hot and quick, a choked groan escaping her a few minutes later, muffled and soft as she sagged slightly between Lena’s knees.
Neither of them moved for a moment, dwelling in a brief moment of hazy gratification, before Kara shifted back slightly, looking around for her glasses. Lena spotted them and reached for the frames, pressing them into Kara’s hands before she reached for her crumpled ballet gear, trying to separate her inside-out tights from the leotard as she surreptitiously watched Kara dress. They didn’t speak, and she sat on the cold floor, her arm inside the tights, pulling them right side leg by leg as Kara slipped out of the garage without a word. Lena felt a prickle of embarrassment creep up on her, trying not to feel too indignant, when the door opened again a couple of minutes later, as she was halfway through putting her tights on, with Kara holding a pair of her sweatpants and a sweatshirt, clean from the laundry room.
“Thanks,” Lena murmured, stripping the tights off again and moving towards her, self-conscious now, the moment passing and her so vulnerable as Kara stood there clothed.
Hurriedly pulling on the clothes, Lena felt marginally better with her body hidden from sight, although there was the awkwardness descending now, unsure what to say or how to feel. There was still so much hurt between them, the damage from years ago still complicating things, but Lena missed her and all of the things about Kara that she’d once loved, those things that were still there, even though they’d both changed so much. It made it difficult to know where to draw the line, her initial anger at their reunion cooling off over the weeks she’d been home, a little more accountability on her end for her stubborn determination to stew in her heartbreak beyond reason, a little more understanding for why Kara had done what she’d done, perhaps a little bit of relief to know that Lena hadn’t made it all up in her head, that she’d been loved too, even if the truth had come a little too late.
“Um … sorry,” she eventually said, breaking the tense silence. “I know it’s not fair for me to ask you to do that for me.”
Holding the clothes she hadn’t put back on under her scrubs, Kara raked a hand through her messy hair. “Oh, that- it’s okay. I mean, obviously, you’re going through a tough time-”
Wrinkling her nose, Lena let out a quiet scoff of laughter. “Oh, so it’s out of pity?”
“I- no, that’s-”
“God, I’m joking , Kara,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Ah, right,” Kara hummed, pressing her lips together as she nodded, blue eyes creasing faintly at the corners with amusement. “I wasn’t sure; normally you’re too busy being angry at me.”
Lena laughed, shaking her head as she smiled. She hated that sudden softness in her chest, how much she enjoyed this back and forth between them, even though she’d never admit it. Back when they were younger, they’d talk about everything and anything, and it had always been so easy. Now, it felt so difficult, but there were fleeting moments where she felt a familiar sense of ease. It left an ache in her.
Opening her mouth and then hesitating, Kara gave her a sheepishly pained look as she rubbed the back of her neck. “So, um, I’m not trying to be presumptuous or anything, but … if this is going to keep happening, could we just keep it between us? I mean … obviously, you don’t live here anymore, so I doubt you’d care, but, well, you know, my whole life is here and it’s a small town so …”
“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t really planning on going into detail about my sex life with my mom anyway,” Lena laughed, her brow furrowing together in bewildered amusement. “Seriously, though, who would I tell?”
Kara shrugged and Lena watched her for a moment before she let out a sharp laugh. “Oh , you think I’m going to go running to your mom to stir up trouble? Worried she might find out about the type of care you’re providing? Is that it?”
“Not as maliciously as you’re making it sound, but yeah, I mean, I know she’ll be calling you to talk about some things. Um … it’s just, if you could avoid mentioning me at all, maybe-“
“Kara, I can guarantee you, I have enough problems to talk to your mom about without bringing up the fact that I’ve slept with her daughter. But sure, if she asks, I’m about as likely to tell her the details as I am my own mom.”
“Okay, great. Thank you.”
Rolling her eyes, Lena laughed, moving over to the stereo and shutting off the music. She left her shoes in there, making sure she had the key to lock up just in case, carrying her ballet clothes as she stepped outside, barefoot. Kara hovered outside, her nursing bag slung over her shoulder, her breath visible in the air as the sunlight waned, the evening growing frigid.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
“And, uh, Happy New Year.”
“Oh, right. Happy New Year,” Lena replied, holding her gaze for a second before she stepped past her.
Quickly climbing the back porch steps, the bricks frigid beneath her feet, Lena opened the back door and turned back. Kara was fishing out her car keys and hitching her bag higher on her shoulder, at the top of the driveway, and Lena drew in a quick breath.
“And it’s not that presumptuous,” Lena called out before she stepped through the back door.