Janice Gorey stood in her bedroom, dead center, looking at how empty it was now.
She never thought she'd leave this bedroom, and now here she was, about to do that very thing. She sighed and looked over at the wall, the one covered in her scholastic achievements prior to the accident. All the ribbons, awards, sashes, and more, indicating her intelligence. She walked towards it, reaching out, and ran her fingertips over it gently. She smiled. Janice felt like she was finally getting back to what she'd once been, and she liked that. Her bedroom door opened and her mother stood there, causing Janice to turn and look at her, smiling at one another. "You leaving soon?" her mother asked, and Janice nodded. "Yeah, just a few minutes. I'm going to meet Laura at the train station and we're going to map out our route driving from there." "Okay," her mother said, walking in and opening her arms; Janice hesitated momentarily, then smiled and hugged her mother as she whispered in Janice's ear, "I'm so proud of you. I'm sorry I did so much so wrong, but I was just trying to protect you. There's no excuse for it though. You're a grown woman. I'm proud of you. You've come so far recently." After the hug broken, her mother left the room to pack her some snacks, leaving Janice alone once more. She looked back at the board and noticed that, along with all the awards, she'd also pinned the ticket to the show she and Reynolds had taken Hawley to. She smiled, plucked the pushpin from it and stuffed the ticket in her pocket. She wanted to remember this place, the time she'd spent here. She wanted to remember John Reynolds. *** Delilah was up early, but she was never used to guests, which was why, perhaps, when she opened her front door to John Reynolds, she was surprised, but not put off. John, standing there, leaning against a porch banister, trying to catch his breath, looked like he'd been up all night. Delilah waited a bit for him to finally speak, and when he did finally glance up at her, their eyes meeting, they both chuckled. "I didn't think you'd be up," he said. "Well," Delilah replied, "I actually prefer to get as early a headstart on embalming and whatnot as I can, considering that I'd rather have the day proper to myself, you know? What are you doing here, John?" "I need flowers," Reynolds said, pushing his way past her and into the house. "Flowers? What makes you think I-" "Don't bullshit me, Delilah," Reynolds replied, turning on his heel in her living room, before rubbing his eyes, "Ugh, I'm sorry, that was rude, I've...I've been up all night, it's been a rough evening, I just...I don't want to do this cat and mouse crap, okay? You're a mortician, you run a funeral home, you have flowers. It's a simple process of elimination when it comes right down to it." Delilah nodded, setting her mug of tea down and walking past him, downstairs. Reynolds followed swiftly behind her. "I do keep a small selection of bouquets down here, often for people interested in what they'd like to see at the funeral," Delilah said, "so yes, I have things you can choose from. Hell, pick one from each group and create a totally unique bouquet from it if you so desire. Get artsy with it, I don't care. I get a discount on all my floral work because of my field, so." Reynolds slid open the glass case and looked inside, admiring each of the options before doing exactly what Delilah suggested. He picked a few roses, some tulips, some posies and more, bundling them all together into one singular bouquet. When he finished, he turned around and presented it to Delilah, who just smiled and nodded, arms crossed. "I think that'll work," she said, "so what is this for anyway?" "...I made a mistake that lasted months, and I have to undo it, or at the very least apologize for it," Reynolds said, "but I can't do it without flowers." As Reynolds headed past her and up the stairs, he stopped midway and looked down at the bouquet, Delilah stopped behind him, waiting, confused. "...you know how sometimes you'll lay in bed at night and you'll replay a singular moment that you wish you could go back and relive, if only for the chance to make it go differently? That's what I'm trying to avoid. I don't want to lay in bed ten years from now and think about how I could've had something else, something I wanted, if I'd just not been so stupid when the chips were down." Delilah nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Reynolds continued. "So I'm doing something about it now, so that that doesn't happen," Reynolds said, smiling weakly, "because if I don't, I won't only feel bad in the future, but I'll also hate myself in the past for not working to prevent said future." They continued back up to the main floor and headed for the front door. Delilah, watching him head down the front steps, watched him leave and thought about her son, and about her ex-husband, and, of course, about Jeff. How, even after what had happened, she'd done exactly what Reynolds was doing now. She'd gone to seek him out again, and break the cycle of believing she didn't deserve to be happy, and that, instead, she could have something she wanted. She only hoped Reynolds would get the same outcome she had gotten so lucky to get. *** Hawley and Misty were sitting on the bed in Hawley's room; Misty was too scared to go to sleep, terrified of closing her eyes only to open them to a sight she didn't want to see again, and Hawley was doing her best to stay up and keep her company as a result. Hawley had a spread of magazines on the bed, still trying to complete her fashion board, using Misty as help to achieve this goal. As Hawley started to clip out a new dress and glue it to the board, Misty leaned in and looked at it. "That one's really pretty," Misty said, and Hawley nodded, smiling. "I thought so!" she said, "I always wanted to wear pretty dresses, and it's honestly so nice to be able to now without shame or judgement. And now, when I think of my future, all I see are all the dresses I'll get to wear. Prom dress. Wedding dress. Bridesmaid dresses. So much of a womans life is made up of dresses, and as someone who loves dresses that makes me very happy." "Speaking of dresses," Misty said, starting to cut out a nice pair of bootcut jeans, "are you going to the dance? The one in a few weeks? Just curious what you might be doing." "I've never actually been to a school dance," Hawley said, "so maybe, I'd like to yeah. It all just depends on if I'm asked or not." "I thought maybe we could go together," Misty said meekly, causing Hawley to look up; Misty fumbled with her gluestick and continued speaking softly, "I mean, if you want to. I just don't know how much I trust anyone else right now, and...and I feel safe with you, so I thought maybe you wouldn't mind going with me." Hawley smiled and, after pasting the dress to the board, reached across the bed and held Misty's hand, squeezing gently. "I'd like to do that, that'd be really fun!" she said calmly, "I know that you feel bad right now, but we can be friends and help one another feel more comfortable, and after what you went through, I don't blame you for not wanting to go to something that crowded alone." Misty felt her eyes tear up, and she suddenly got on her knees and crawled over the board on the bed, hugging Hawley tightly. Hawley, surprised, happily hugged her back and felt like crying herself. All she'd ever wanted was to be a girl, and have girl friends, and be as open and affectionate as she'd always she was - something her father had shamed her for numerous times - and now that she had all of that, she felt so lucky. She was strong, and she was ready to be there for other girls who might need some strength in their corner. If there was one thing she'd managed to gleam from her sistely bond with Clarissa over the last few months, it was that women need other women, and there was no shame in that. And for the first time in her life, Hawley had no shame of herself either. And it felt great. *** Gorey pulled her car up to Laura's, parking right behind on the curb as Laura Lee was finishing packing her car and shutting the trunk. As she turned to see Gorey, she smiled, and came around the drivers side. Gorey exited the car and the two hugged tightly, Laura squeezing Gorey to her tightly, whispering in her ear. "Thank you so much for being such a good friend," Laura said quietly, "thank you for coming." "Are you about ready?" Gorey asked, pulling away after the hug and, brushing her bangs from her eyes, looked at Laura's car. Laura turned and looked with her, hands on her hips. "I think so, yeah," Laura said, scratching the side of her nose, "my mom is going to meet us at the first rest stop, she left much earlier than we are. She said she wanted to get her thoughts in order, so I figured I should just let her go. I thought maybe we could get breakfast with her when we finally catch up, unless you've already eaten." "I haven't eaten, no, I was up almost all night packing," Gorey said, "honestly, it feels so good to finally be getting the hell out of this town. I've never left, and I'm scared to do so, but I think I need to do it." Laura nodded, patting Gorey on the back before heading back into her mothers house to gather the last of her bags, leaving Gorey out there in the early morning cold to process it all. Standing there, fog filling the street and a few lights starting to turn on in peoples surrounding homes, Gorey tugged her old ratty sweater tighter around her, amazed at what she was about to do. She was actually going to leave this town. To leave the place she'd been born, raised and damaged in. She was going to prove to everyone that she wasn't as broken as they all assumed she'd been, and that she was capable of doing amazing things. And yet... ...yet this itch inside of her wasn't going away. This itch that told her that what she really wanted - not that she didn't want to help her friend, because she did - was to stay here, and be with the people she wanted to be with. But she knew it wasn't going to happen. It was never going to happen. Gorey opened the drivers side door once again and looked back down the road, sighing. Girls like her, she knew, didn't get the love they wanted, and it was time to settle for something new. *** Alice Gorey pulled open the front door to find John Reynolds standing there. Surprised, she pulled her robe shut a little closer and cleared her throat. "What are you doing here, Mr. Reynolds?" she asked. "I need to see Janice, is she-" "She left already," Alice said, sipping her tea, "she left about an hour ago, I wouldn't be surprised if they're already on the road. I know she was heading to Laura's place, but it wouldn't shock me if they were already on their way out of town. Is something wrong?" "...everything's wrong," Reynolds remarked, and it was then that Alice noticed the bouquet in his hand and smirked. "You know, John," she said, "when you came to dinner that night, I could see how much she cared for you. It was nice knowing she had a friend who only wanted the best for her. But I could see it. The way she looked at you. She hadn't looked at anyone like that in years, maybe ever really. When she was in school she had a few crushes but nothing serious. But you...you treated her like an equal, and I think she appreciated that. I know I do. I was so scared after her accident that the world was going to hate her. The world already hates women, but women with a disability? Forget about it. You've got a double target on your back now. But then, seeing how well you treated her...it gave me faith, and let me tell you, faith isn't an easy thing to come by these days." Reynolds nodded and turned to head back down the steps, when he heard Alice talking after him. He stopped and turned back to face her. "I can give you directions," Alice said, smirking, "you're gonna need to know where you're going if you're gonna catch her." Reynolds nodded, grinning. *** Gorey was waiting in the car, waiting for Laura to be ready. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Laura said she was going to get coffee for them, and they would meet up at the gas station at the edge of town before embarking on their exit. Gorey agreed to this, and Laura went on her way. Gorey started her car and exhaled. She glanced at Laura Lee's once more and shrugged. So this was it? This was what growing up felt like? She'd been an adult for years, why only now did she feel like one? Was it because she was finally taking her future in her own hands, making a decision for herself? Terrifying. She put the car in drive and started to pull away, only to back into something. She groaned and climbed out of the car, expecting to find a garbage can, instead finding John Reynolds on his back. "Oh my god, where did you learn to drive?" he asked as he laid on the road. "You're the one coming up behind a parked car!" Gorey retorted, reaching down and helping him up, "didn't you hear it start?" "The battery on my hearing aide is dying, I haven't been hearing so well lately and given everything that's going on I keep forgetting to replace it," Reynolds said, wiping himself down before bending back over and picking up the bouquet, handing it to her. Gorey took it hesitantly and looked at it, before looking back up at John. "What is this?" she asked. "They're flowers, Janice," he replied flatly, the both of them laughing. "Idiot, I know that," she said, "I mean why are you-" "Because you can't go, and I was stupid to think I'd be able to let you, and I'm stupid now to try and stop you from doing something so clearly good for you, but I...I can't let you leave," Reynolds said, looking at the ground, sniffling, wiping his face on his coat sleeve, "I can't let you leave." "I can't do this anymore," Gorey replied quietly, "this bullshit will they won't they Sam and Diane nonsense, I just...I can't. It's killing me." "I broke up with Rebecca," Reynolds said, Gorey's eyes widening at this admission. "WHAT?" she asked. "Yeah," Reynolds said, "even she could see what we have. Hell, your goddamn mom could see it. I saw it, I just tried to ignore it, because the last time I loved someone, everything went to shit. I didn't want everything to go to shit. You deserve better than shit, Janice, and I'm shit. So I tried to ignore it, and hoped it would go away but it didn't, it only...it only got stronger. The further apart we became the closer I wanted to be to you. If that isn't love then what is?" "That could be infatuation," Gorey said, making him chuckle. "Alright, you're not helping my heartfelt romcom speech here," Reynolds replied, both of them laughing now; he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before reaching out and putting his hand on her face, looking at her, "...all I know is this. Last time I loved somebody...it cost me everything, and it wasn't worth it. This time, it could cost me everything, but it would be worth it, and I think there's value in that difference. I understand if you need to go, I do. But I hope I'm not too late." Gorey looked back down at the flowers, touching their soft petals with her fingertips. "...nobody's ever gotten me flowers before," she said quietly, "Everyone on stage got flowers when we put on shows, but nobody ever gives flowers to the set builders or the lighting crew. Nobody ever gave me flowers." She lifted her face back up, her eyes locking with John's, and she smiled. "Why would you want me?" Janice asked. "You spend your life picking up trash," Reynolds said, "I'm trash, so I was hoping you'd pick me up." Gorey laughed, which in turn made him laugh. She leaned up, putting her arms around his shoulders, her lips close to his. "You ARE trash," she said softly, as his hands found their way to her lower back. "Baby," he replied, "I'm a whole damn landfill." And he kissed her. Finally, on this empty, quiet, foggy street in the morning, they gave in to something they'd both been fighting for so long...and for the first time in his career as a little league coach, John Reynolds felt like he'd hit a home run.
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GRAVE INNINGS is about A funeral home that has sponsored a local little league, the coach who is a disgraced reality show host, a young transgirl and the odd family they create for one another. Archives
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