Liam was sitting in one of the armchairs in the office, looking out the window nearby, his fingers twiddling on the top of his cane where Martin's ashes were housed. He bit his lip as he watched a bird land on a branch, pick at something on a leaf, and then take off again into the sky.
"Take as much time as you need," a woman said, and Liam looked towards her. She was wearing a powder blue suit and a button down white shirt with a black tie. She smiled at him and Liam smiled back, nodding.
"Um, I guess I knew it was inevitable," he said, "death always is, after all. I guess what I didn't expect was how it would happen, but I guess who does? Who expects to die in the way they do? At least, in my instance and instances such as mine, we're sort of lucky. We get time to plan. We aren't just killed on impact in a car or...or crushed by an anvil or something."
"Alright, Bugs Bunny, calm down," his therapist, Melissa said, jotting something down, the both of them chuckling.
"I just mean I should count my lucky stars that I am going out the way that I am, because I have time to tie up loose ends. Not everyone gets that. More often than not they leave behind big messes to be cleaned up. I'm not going to do that. I'm taking my messes with me. Nobody will have to worry about anything in regards to my life outside of my estate perhaps, meager as that is."
"...and what about Claire?" Melissa asked, and Liam snapped his eyes to hers.
"What about Claire?" he asked sternly.
"Well, you went through the trouble to find her, did you think about saying anything to her?" Melissa asked.
"Why would I? We haven't been in contact since she was very little, why should I re-enter and complicate her life now?" Liam asked, "I mean, honestly, what would that solve?"
"It would give her a chance to know you a little better before you go. You never know, she might appreciate that," Melissa said, "but obviously it's up to you, don't get mad at me for asking the things I feel need to be asked, Liam, that isn't fair to me."
Liam exhaled and nodded, running his free hand through his thinning hair.
"You're right, I'm...I'm sorry," Liam said, "I've been snapping at people lately and I don't like it. I guess I just feel as though now that I have a finite amount of time I don't like having my time wasted on things I don't think are important. Claire is an adult now. She has no need to be dragged down with us."
Truth was though...he did want to. He wouldn't, but he did want to. It'd been so long, and he knew she was fine, that she'd turned out okay, that her parents had raised her well in the end, but he still wanted to. But he knew it was the wrong thing to do. After all, why bring someone into your life, maybe get them to care, only to leave so shortly after? That just seemed cruel to him. And this was a sentiment that Casey herself was about to discover.
***
Casey was sitting in the car, watching Micah gather groceries from her trunk. Casey bit her lip, and, with her now or never mentality, forced herself out of the car and across the street. As she got closer, she noticed Micah struggling, and she quickly swept in to help.
"Can I take one of those?" Casey asked, and Micah turned, smiling politely, thanking her. Casey took two separate bags and carried them up the porch and into the house. There were no children. No husband. Photos on the wall showed a happy, loving family, but she and Micah were currently the only ones in the house. Casey followed her into the kitchen and set them on the counter.
"Thank you so much," Micah said, "I guess the kindness of strangers is appreciated, as they always claimed."
"I'm not really a stranger," Casey mumbled, "was it just too much to carry, or?"
"No, I hurt my elbow playing tennis last week. My husband and I have weekly games, trying to stay fit, but last week I took a bad spill and a bad swing, so I'm just...I'm in pain," Micah said, chuckling, "...did you say you aren't a stranger? Do you live in the neighborhood?"
Standing in the kitchen, looking at Micah, Casey suddenly had a dawning realization of the passage of time. She was older. She didn't look old, but she was mature, if that made sense. Casey hated the idea of aging. She didn't want to get old. She didn't want to get enfeebled and need help. She wanted to be young forever. Casey cleared her throat and leaned against the counter, folding her arms.
"Um," Casey said, "I don't live in the neighborhood, no. Uh...we...we've met before though. A long time ago. My name is Casey Kochawski. You might not remember, I mean, I was a little girl back then, but-"
"Casey," Micah said quietly, and Casey nodded, a lump in her throat; Micah pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down, "no, of course I remember you. You don't forget a situation like that. It's because of you that I wound up doing the work that I do, protecting children, placing them with foster families, getting them out of abusive environments. I always felt so guilty about not being able to do more for you, it spilled over into an entire career."
Casey sat down as well and exhaled.
"I mean, I wasn't your responsibility," Casey said.
"But you were," Micah said, "you were my responsibility. I was there to keep you safe, and I couldn't keep you safe from them. As a babysitter, my one goal is to keep children safe from harm, but...but when I can't be there twenty four seven and the harm is ongoing, it just breaks my heart. You deserved better."
Casey smiled. She was so prepared for this meeting to go badly, and instead it was going exactly the way she'd hoped it would. Even after all these years, as a woman reaching middle age, Micah proved she was compassionate, considerate, comforting. All the things she'd long since expected her to be and had remembered her as. Casey nodded, smiling, looking at her hands on the kitchen table.
"Thing is, everything's pretty okay now in my life. I've got a good job, two good jobs in fact, and I'm making money with my art, and I guess I just wanted to say thank you to being one of the few adults who tried to make my childhood normal and safe. That meant a lot," Casey said.
"It makes me sad, the adults who hate children. I understand not wanting your own, that makes sense to me, but to outright hate a child...to hate the concept of a child...these terrified little base people who barely have any world experience or knowledge, who look to us for guidance and understanding, and you're going to hate that? Worse, take advantage of it? Despicable. I'm glad I managed to be a bright spot in your otherwise miserable adolescence. That makes it all worthwhile."
Liam was wrong. Finding the people who meant a lot to you was worth it.
Or, at least, she thought so in this moment.
***
Lexi's father, David, was more than thrilled to see his daughter. In fact, when asked by his lawyers why he'd chosen to go the route he had recently, it was because he simply wanted to go back home to his family, specifically Lexi. Lexi and her father had always been close, even if his work kept him busy and away, and to now have the chance to make up for that? Perhaps that, more than anything else, was the silver lining to come out of this whole mess. Sitting across from Lexi and her friend, Michelle, he couldn't stop smiling.
"You didn't wanna come to a prison alone?" David asked, and the girls laughed.
"Partially that, yeah," Lexi said, "but Michelle is also a good friend and support system. Besides, my girlfriend couldn't drive me today, she was too busy doing filming and having meetings."
David had always had a sneaking suspicion that his daughter was gay, not that he cared at all, but it was nice to have it confirmed finally. It felt like she was finally really opening up to him about who she was, and he loved that. This was a foundation they could truly build on.
"I felt so guilty," David said, looking down at his cuffed hands on the table, "I just...not for what I did, or allegedly did, and not even for what that did to your mother or sister, but...but because of how it affected you. We were always so close when you were growing up, and when I started working more, I felt bad about it, but I wanted to provide the best life that I could for you, specifically."
"Why me?" Lexi asked, an eyebrow raised, "why not the whole family?"
"Because you're..." David started, then sighed and stopped. No. He wouldn't implode her world, not today, not right now, not like this. He looked back up at his daughter and smiled weakly. Michelle shifted in her seat, tossing her hair from her eyes.
"You know," she said, "my father went away when I was very young. I think the fact that you didn't turn tail and run and instead have done everything for Lexi is admirable. Neither of my parents cared about me, so at least she has you. And you put yourself in harms way by taking the deal, but you still did it for her. It's nice to see a parent that cares for their kid."
David smiled more, nodding. He did care. He cared so deeply for her. But not for the reasons she might think.
***
"It's all so fleeting," Liam said, "...it all seems so important while you're here, and then you reach the end and you look back and you cringe at the things you fought for, fought over, valued and considered necessary. Far be it from me to think I'm the first to ever have this kind of realization, honestly. I'm not. I'm not saying anything new, but...but still, it rings true. All the clichés are spot on."
The front door to the house opened, and Casey and Micah could hear a man enter with two small children, and Casey smiled even more. A warm family home. This is the kind of environment one must cultivate for healthy growth into adulthood.
"You should leave," Micah said, catching her attention, "I've never really talked to my husband about you, or really anyone that I babysat, and so he's going to think the whole thing is weird. But it was really nice seeing you again."
"Oh, I guess I understand that," Casey replied, "can we maybe meet up again? Have lunch?"
"Don't take this the wrong way...I am proud of what I did, and I am so happy to see you here now as the adult you've become, cause it shows you made it, and it shows I impacted you. But I don't think that's a good idea. That was a different me, a different life. Sure, I still help children, but I also have my own children now. And yes, you're an adult, it isn't like you're some kid coming to look for me, but...I just don't think it would be healthy or beneficial for either one of us."
"You think things will go one way, they go another, life is never what you expect and rarely what you want, and for some of us, we don't catch a break. We, instead, end up broken. I'm one of the lucky ones. I met a woman with a very specific vision, who was willing to let me tag along. God knows where I'd be if she hadn't. I owe everything to Beatrice. And sure, I screwed things up more than once, but I was more than willing to pay for my mistakes, make up for them. That's more than a lot of people can say. Most don't like taking responsibility, instead opting to chock things up to 'fate' or some other pseudo spiritual bullshit. A lot of it is, admittedly, luck. But a lot of the time you have to take responsibility as well, because luck can only get you so far," Liam continued.
Casey stood up and backed away from the table as Micah ushered her towards the sidedoor attached to the kitchen.
"I don't...I don't understand, we can't even just...stay friends? We're adults. I'm an adult now," Casey said, "I went through all this trouble to find you, and you're not even going to grant me the possibility?"
"Casey, I appreciate what you think and feel, but it isn't healthy to look people up like this," Micah said, "frankly, you should speak to a therapist, not a former babysitter. Again, I'm so happy to see who you've grown up to be, and you do seem relatively well adjusted, all things considered, but I know how this is going to go. You're going to want more than just a familiar attachment. You latched onto me because I was an older woman who cared. But I'm not your mom. I'm someone else's mom."
"You don't know what I-"
"I do, and I don't wanna let you down in that regard, you deserve better than that," Micah said, opening the door and helping Casey outside it, "again, thank you for finding me, telling me that what I did made a difference, but maybe you should do the same now, go make a difference in someone else's life. Go forward, not backward."
And with that, the door shut. Casey stood there, somewhat shocked.
"I don't want to be a downer, because there is so many positive things to experience, but so much of life IS disappointment. Rarely do things go the way we want, the way we hope, and instead of reaching the end, naturally, so many people can't take the constant frustration and failure and opt out willingly instead. I know because I tried it myself. I mean, I guess in the moment I figured...it has to happen eventually. That being said, I'm glad I didn't succeed. I'm not saying others who do are wrong, everyone does for themselves what they feel is best, most appropriate, but for me, I would've missed out on this time with Bea, with the girls, with everything. That was more than worth sticking around for. In the end, you die. It's a disappointment, but so is much of life, even when you factor in the good things. That's just how it goes. Some people can take it. Others cannot. I'm lucky to be one of the ones who can."
Casey ran across the street, crying, and climbed back into the car. She sat there and she started to hyperventilate, then she started the car and pulled away violently from the curb, driving anywhere else but here.
***
Michelle glanced over at Lexi as she drove, while Lexi sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window, sipping on her iced coffee. Michelle cleared her throat, brushed her bangs from her face and spoke.
"Are you okay? I think that went really well," she said, "sorry Keagan couldn't come."
"Actually...I think I'm glad it was you," Lexi said, "you really understand what it's like to lose your safety net. I'm sorry your father is gone, but I'm sure he'd be proud of you if he were here. Look at where you started, where you are now, it's pretty damn impressive, and all of that achievement was made before you were healthy."
"Please don't call me inspiring," Michaelle laughed, making Lexi laugh.
"I wasn't going to, but okay," Lexi said, "no, I know how frustrating it can be to be disabled and be called inspiring, as if the mere act of your existence is some kind of radical thing, when in actuality you're just like everyone else. I wouldn't do that to you, Michelle. But thank you for coming with me. I'm really glad my father is getting out soon, cause I'd really like to rebuild our relationship."
Michelle smiled, nodding, as she pulled up to a red light and tapped her nails on the steering wheel.
"You're lucky," Michelle said, biting her lip as Lexi finished sipping from her cup.
"I am?" she asked.
"Yeah. My mother will never accept me, and who knows how my father would feel," Michelle said, "sometimes I wonder if the reason he left was because he knew I was gay just by looking at me, and was so ashamed of that that he ran away. I know that's stupid, but the shame, the internal shame, that comes with being queer...it's so strong. You see the world for what it is, a place not designed for you, and you can't help but feel like the odd one out."
"I get that," Lexi said, "yeah."
Michelle hated herself for it, but she couldn't help it. She did know how Lexi felt in regards to dads at least. After she dropped Lexi off at home, she headed home herself and found Eliza laying on the couch asleep. She must've had a hard day, but lately she seemed particularly troubled by something and she wouldn't tell Michelle what. Michelle didn't pry though, she knew Eliza trusted her, and would tell her in due time. Michelle tugged her jacket off, hung it up and curled up on the couch behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her in close. Eliza smiled, her eyes still shut.
"You're back," Eliza whispered.
"If I said I was jealous of you and your dad, would that be weird?" Michelle asked, and Eliza shook her head.
"No, I think that makes sense," she said, yawning, "I'm lucky to have him."
Eliza rolled around to face Michelle and pushed her face under Michelle's chin, one of Michelle's hands making its way up into her hair and running her fingers through it.
"I guess I just am sad I don't have any parents, which feels pathetic, given the age I am now," Michelle said.
"Not pathetic to mourn what you can't have," Eliza said, kissing her neck, "and you don't need parents. You got me."
Michelle blushed and kissed the top of Eliza's head, and they lay like that well into the night. Eliza was right. Family didn't have to be parents. Family was whoever you decided it was, who loved you no matter what. And goddamn if Michelle didn't have that in spades.
"Take as much time as you need," a woman said, and Liam looked towards her. She was wearing a powder blue suit and a button down white shirt with a black tie. She smiled at him and Liam smiled back, nodding.
"Um, I guess I knew it was inevitable," he said, "death always is, after all. I guess what I didn't expect was how it would happen, but I guess who does? Who expects to die in the way they do? At least, in my instance and instances such as mine, we're sort of lucky. We get time to plan. We aren't just killed on impact in a car or...or crushed by an anvil or something."
"Alright, Bugs Bunny, calm down," his therapist, Melissa said, jotting something down, the both of them chuckling.
"I just mean I should count my lucky stars that I am going out the way that I am, because I have time to tie up loose ends. Not everyone gets that. More often than not they leave behind big messes to be cleaned up. I'm not going to do that. I'm taking my messes with me. Nobody will have to worry about anything in regards to my life outside of my estate perhaps, meager as that is."
"...and what about Claire?" Melissa asked, and Liam snapped his eyes to hers.
"What about Claire?" he asked sternly.
"Well, you went through the trouble to find her, did you think about saying anything to her?" Melissa asked.
"Why would I? We haven't been in contact since she was very little, why should I re-enter and complicate her life now?" Liam asked, "I mean, honestly, what would that solve?"
"It would give her a chance to know you a little better before you go. You never know, she might appreciate that," Melissa said, "but obviously it's up to you, don't get mad at me for asking the things I feel need to be asked, Liam, that isn't fair to me."
Liam exhaled and nodded, running his free hand through his thinning hair.
"You're right, I'm...I'm sorry," Liam said, "I've been snapping at people lately and I don't like it. I guess I just feel as though now that I have a finite amount of time I don't like having my time wasted on things I don't think are important. Claire is an adult now. She has no need to be dragged down with us."
Truth was though...he did want to. He wouldn't, but he did want to. It'd been so long, and he knew she was fine, that she'd turned out okay, that her parents had raised her well in the end, but he still wanted to. But he knew it was the wrong thing to do. After all, why bring someone into your life, maybe get them to care, only to leave so shortly after? That just seemed cruel to him. And this was a sentiment that Casey herself was about to discover.
***
Casey was sitting in the car, watching Micah gather groceries from her trunk. Casey bit her lip, and, with her now or never mentality, forced herself out of the car and across the street. As she got closer, she noticed Micah struggling, and she quickly swept in to help.
"Can I take one of those?" Casey asked, and Micah turned, smiling politely, thanking her. Casey took two separate bags and carried them up the porch and into the house. There were no children. No husband. Photos on the wall showed a happy, loving family, but she and Micah were currently the only ones in the house. Casey followed her into the kitchen and set them on the counter.
"Thank you so much," Micah said, "I guess the kindness of strangers is appreciated, as they always claimed."
"I'm not really a stranger," Casey mumbled, "was it just too much to carry, or?"
"No, I hurt my elbow playing tennis last week. My husband and I have weekly games, trying to stay fit, but last week I took a bad spill and a bad swing, so I'm just...I'm in pain," Micah said, chuckling, "...did you say you aren't a stranger? Do you live in the neighborhood?"
Standing in the kitchen, looking at Micah, Casey suddenly had a dawning realization of the passage of time. She was older. She didn't look old, but she was mature, if that made sense. Casey hated the idea of aging. She didn't want to get old. She didn't want to get enfeebled and need help. She wanted to be young forever. Casey cleared her throat and leaned against the counter, folding her arms.
"Um," Casey said, "I don't live in the neighborhood, no. Uh...we...we've met before though. A long time ago. My name is Casey Kochawski. You might not remember, I mean, I was a little girl back then, but-"
"Casey," Micah said quietly, and Casey nodded, a lump in her throat; Micah pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down, "no, of course I remember you. You don't forget a situation like that. It's because of you that I wound up doing the work that I do, protecting children, placing them with foster families, getting them out of abusive environments. I always felt so guilty about not being able to do more for you, it spilled over into an entire career."
Casey sat down as well and exhaled.
"I mean, I wasn't your responsibility," Casey said.
"But you were," Micah said, "you were my responsibility. I was there to keep you safe, and I couldn't keep you safe from them. As a babysitter, my one goal is to keep children safe from harm, but...but when I can't be there twenty four seven and the harm is ongoing, it just breaks my heart. You deserved better."
Casey smiled. She was so prepared for this meeting to go badly, and instead it was going exactly the way she'd hoped it would. Even after all these years, as a woman reaching middle age, Micah proved she was compassionate, considerate, comforting. All the things she'd long since expected her to be and had remembered her as. Casey nodded, smiling, looking at her hands on the kitchen table.
"Thing is, everything's pretty okay now in my life. I've got a good job, two good jobs in fact, and I'm making money with my art, and I guess I just wanted to say thank you to being one of the few adults who tried to make my childhood normal and safe. That meant a lot," Casey said.
"It makes me sad, the adults who hate children. I understand not wanting your own, that makes sense to me, but to outright hate a child...to hate the concept of a child...these terrified little base people who barely have any world experience or knowledge, who look to us for guidance and understanding, and you're going to hate that? Worse, take advantage of it? Despicable. I'm glad I managed to be a bright spot in your otherwise miserable adolescence. That makes it all worthwhile."
Liam was wrong. Finding the people who meant a lot to you was worth it.
Or, at least, she thought so in this moment.
***
Lexi's father, David, was more than thrilled to see his daughter. In fact, when asked by his lawyers why he'd chosen to go the route he had recently, it was because he simply wanted to go back home to his family, specifically Lexi. Lexi and her father had always been close, even if his work kept him busy and away, and to now have the chance to make up for that? Perhaps that, more than anything else, was the silver lining to come out of this whole mess. Sitting across from Lexi and her friend, Michelle, he couldn't stop smiling.
"You didn't wanna come to a prison alone?" David asked, and the girls laughed.
"Partially that, yeah," Lexi said, "but Michelle is also a good friend and support system. Besides, my girlfriend couldn't drive me today, she was too busy doing filming and having meetings."
David had always had a sneaking suspicion that his daughter was gay, not that he cared at all, but it was nice to have it confirmed finally. It felt like she was finally really opening up to him about who she was, and he loved that. This was a foundation they could truly build on.
"I felt so guilty," David said, looking down at his cuffed hands on the table, "I just...not for what I did, or allegedly did, and not even for what that did to your mother or sister, but...but because of how it affected you. We were always so close when you were growing up, and when I started working more, I felt bad about it, but I wanted to provide the best life that I could for you, specifically."
"Why me?" Lexi asked, an eyebrow raised, "why not the whole family?"
"Because you're..." David started, then sighed and stopped. No. He wouldn't implode her world, not today, not right now, not like this. He looked back up at his daughter and smiled weakly. Michelle shifted in her seat, tossing her hair from her eyes.
"You know," she said, "my father went away when I was very young. I think the fact that you didn't turn tail and run and instead have done everything for Lexi is admirable. Neither of my parents cared about me, so at least she has you. And you put yourself in harms way by taking the deal, but you still did it for her. It's nice to see a parent that cares for their kid."
David smiled more, nodding. He did care. He cared so deeply for her. But not for the reasons she might think.
***
"It's all so fleeting," Liam said, "...it all seems so important while you're here, and then you reach the end and you look back and you cringe at the things you fought for, fought over, valued and considered necessary. Far be it from me to think I'm the first to ever have this kind of realization, honestly. I'm not. I'm not saying anything new, but...but still, it rings true. All the clichés are spot on."
The front door to the house opened, and Casey and Micah could hear a man enter with two small children, and Casey smiled even more. A warm family home. This is the kind of environment one must cultivate for healthy growth into adulthood.
"You should leave," Micah said, catching her attention, "I've never really talked to my husband about you, or really anyone that I babysat, and so he's going to think the whole thing is weird. But it was really nice seeing you again."
"Oh, I guess I understand that," Casey replied, "can we maybe meet up again? Have lunch?"
"Don't take this the wrong way...I am proud of what I did, and I am so happy to see you here now as the adult you've become, cause it shows you made it, and it shows I impacted you. But I don't think that's a good idea. That was a different me, a different life. Sure, I still help children, but I also have my own children now. And yes, you're an adult, it isn't like you're some kid coming to look for me, but...I just don't think it would be healthy or beneficial for either one of us."
"You think things will go one way, they go another, life is never what you expect and rarely what you want, and for some of us, we don't catch a break. We, instead, end up broken. I'm one of the lucky ones. I met a woman with a very specific vision, who was willing to let me tag along. God knows where I'd be if she hadn't. I owe everything to Beatrice. And sure, I screwed things up more than once, but I was more than willing to pay for my mistakes, make up for them. That's more than a lot of people can say. Most don't like taking responsibility, instead opting to chock things up to 'fate' or some other pseudo spiritual bullshit. A lot of it is, admittedly, luck. But a lot of the time you have to take responsibility as well, because luck can only get you so far," Liam continued.
Casey stood up and backed away from the table as Micah ushered her towards the sidedoor attached to the kitchen.
"I don't...I don't understand, we can't even just...stay friends? We're adults. I'm an adult now," Casey said, "I went through all this trouble to find you, and you're not even going to grant me the possibility?"
"Casey, I appreciate what you think and feel, but it isn't healthy to look people up like this," Micah said, "frankly, you should speak to a therapist, not a former babysitter. Again, I'm so happy to see who you've grown up to be, and you do seem relatively well adjusted, all things considered, but I know how this is going to go. You're going to want more than just a familiar attachment. You latched onto me because I was an older woman who cared. But I'm not your mom. I'm someone else's mom."
"You don't know what I-"
"I do, and I don't wanna let you down in that regard, you deserve better than that," Micah said, opening the door and helping Casey outside it, "again, thank you for finding me, telling me that what I did made a difference, but maybe you should do the same now, go make a difference in someone else's life. Go forward, not backward."
And with that, the door shut. Casey stood there, somewhat shocked.
"I don't want to be a downer, because there is so many positive things to experience, but so much of life IS disappointment. Rarely do things go the way we want, the way we hope, and instead of reaching the end, naturally, so many people can't take the constant frustration and failure and opt out willingly instead. I know because I tried it myself. I mean, I guess in the moment I figured...it has to happen eventually. That being said, I'm glad I didn't succeed. I'm not saying others who do are wrong, everyone does for themselves what they feel is best, most appropriate, but for me, I would've missed out on this time with Bea, with the girls, with everything. That was more than worth sticking around for. In the end, you die. It's a disappointment, but so is much of life, even when you factor in the good things. That's just how it goes. Some people can take it. Others cannot. I'm lucky to be one of the ones who can."
Casey ran across the street, crying, and climbed back into the car. She sat there and she started to hyperventilate, then she started the car and pulled away violently from the curb, driving anywhere else but here.
***
Michelle glanced over at Lexi as she drove, while Lexi sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window, sipping on her iced coffee. Michelle cleared her throat, brushed her bangs from her face and spoke.
"Are you okay? I think that went really well," she said, "sorry Keagan couldn't come."
"Actually...I think I'm glad it was you," Lexi said, "you really understand what it's like to lose your safety net. I'm sorry your father is gone, but I'm sure he'd be proud of you if he were here. Look at where you started, where you are now, it's pretty damn impressive, and all of that achievement was made before you were healthy."
"Please don't call me inspiring," Michaelle laughed, making Lexi laugh.
"I wasn't going to, but okay," Lexi said, "no, I know how frustrating it can be to be disabled and be called inspiring, as if the mere act of your existence is some kind of radical thing, when in actuality you're just like everyone else. I wouldn't do that to you, Michelle. But thank you for coming with me. I'm really glad my father is getting out soon, cause I'd really like to rebuild our relationship."
Michelle smiled, nodding, as she pulled up to a red light and tapped her nails on the steering wheel.
"You're lucky," Michelle said, biting her lip as Lexi finished sipping from her cup.
"I am?" she asked.
"Yeah. My mother will never accept me, and who knows how my father would feel," Michelle said, "sometimes I wonder if the reason he left was because he knew I was gay just by looking at me, and was so ashamed of that that he ran away. I know that's stupid, but the shame, the internal shame, that comes with being queer...it's so strong. You see the world for what it is, a place not designed for you, and you can't help but feel like the odd one out."
"I get that," Lexi said, "yeah."
Michelle hated herself for it, but she couldn't help it. She did know how Lexi felt in regards to dads at least. After she dropped Lexi off at home, she headed home herself and found Eliza laying on the couch asleep. She must've had a hard day, but lately she seemed particularly troubled by something and she wouldn't tell Michelle what. Michelle didn't pry though, she knew Eliza trusted her, and would tell her in due time. Michelle tugged her jacket off, hung it up and curled up on the couch behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her in close. Eliza smiled, her eyes still shut.
"You're back," Eliza whispered.
"If I said I was jealous of you and your dad, would that be weird?" Michelle asked, and Eliza shook her head.
"No, I think that makes sense," she said, yawning, "I'm lucky to have him."
Eliza rolled around to face Michelle and pushed her face under Michelle's chin, one of Michelle's hands making its way up into her hair and running her fingers through it.
"I guess I just am sad I don't have any parents, which feels pathetic, given the age I am now," Michelle said.
"Not pathetic to mourn what you can't have," Eliza said, kissing her neck, "and you don't need parents. You got me."
Michelle blushed and kissed the top of Eliza's head, and they lay like that well into the night. Eliza was right. Family didn't have to be parents. Family was whoever you decided it was, who loved you no matter what. And goddamn if Michelle didn't have that in spades.