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Grace wakes up thirsty. Thirsty and in pain. Thirsty, in pain, and deeply, deeply sad. She reaches her arm out to grab the nearest bottle of pills- it’s contents unknown and frankly unimportant right now- but right as she’s got it her wrist flicks involuntarily, bumping her clock and glass of water off the nightstand.
“Oh for fucks sake.” she winces, squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation of the blow. The cacophony of bangs vibrate through the silent beach house so loudly Grace swears Frankie could even hear it in the studio.
Frankie
Grace shudders at the unwelcome thought. She’s still clutching the pill bottle and she pops two of whatever (most likely Ativan based off the shape and bitter taste on her tongue) and swallows them dry. She swings her legs off the bed and reaches down for the clock that she can spot thanks to the faint glow.
2:07 AM
Grace breathes sharply as the room temperature water finds its way beneath her toes and they curl up in protest. She knows she should get up and clean the mess but a small childlike part of her wants to sulk for a little while longer. Wants to imagine her sadness seeping out across the floor like the water. Wants to lay herself out alongside it and evaporate before the sun is even up. Fortunately her brain hones in on her thirst once more before her thoughts can fly too far down that dangerous road.
Grace knows thirst. It’s a very comfortable state of being for her; where she feels the most in control. She’s always felt a deep thirst bubbling under her skin. A thirst for power, for success, for that sense of normalcy. Of course, her thirst for alcohol is always very near behind all else, but right now sitting in bed in the middle of the night Grace’s thirst is for something altogether new to her. A thirst for touch.
Intimacy is not something Grace has had great luck controlling in her life so like all other facets of life bigger than her hands could hold onto, she chose to give it up without a fight. To swear off of it altogether. It was much easier that way, she assured herself and before she knew it nearly five decades had gone by without it in her life. If she were to be really honest she would say she thought she’d killed that part of her brain, that longing.
But then Frankie moved in and it was like relearning an old language, her body leapt right back into action as if it had just been waiting all these years.
A big part of Frankie’s life is touch, it comes natural to her. Grace had always envied that, finding it even difficult with her own children. But Frankie lassoed a rope around that touch starved part of Graces heart and pulled with all her might. It started with gentle pats, then hand holding, cuddling on the couch, half spooning in bed, and then finally, Grace’s favourite- forehead kisses. She doesn’t understand it, what it is that Frankie does to her body. The way that standing too close to the other woman can send a ripple of heat up her spine. The way that her skin burns after Frankie touches it.
It didn’t start out like that but it’s been growing organically beneath her ribs. An entire part of her body dedicated to needing Frankie.
And now Frankie’s leaving again. Seventy years spent denying herself the possibility of something like this and as soon as it happens god or frig or the goddess or whatever nonsense just up and whisks it away. Gave it to some goat farmer for christ sake, then gave it back like the ultimate answered prayer and now Grace has gone and ruined it all.
‘It’s what I deserve’, she thinks to herself bitterly before finally standing up and padding over to get a towel. She stumbles around in the dark, refusing to turn on the light and finally finds what she thinks is a hand towel. Grace walks back towards her bed slowly with her one arm out in front of her, reaching out for who knows what. Her shin hits hard against the bed frame and she cries out, her body ragdolling onto the bed. Tears spring to her eyes and she doesn’t fight it. She can’t stop her thoughts from drifting to Frankie now.
‘Frankie. Frankie.’ Her brain repeats like a loop from hell.
She curls into the fetal position and emits a loud exaggerated sob.
“She’s leaving. She’s leaving me.” She says into the dark. She remembers pieces of their argument from this evening.
——
“You’re going away again?” Grace asked, back shooting stiff.
“It just seems like the thing to do. Natures calling to me, you know for a free spirit my life has remained surprisingly stagnant.” Frankie replied, not paying the conversation much attention. She’d just dropped the bombshell that she was taking some 70’s rock and roll revival train across the country for two months.
“But you just got back.”
“Santa Fe clogged my spiritual telepathy and being back hasn’t cleansed it, so I think I need to take some time and focus on my internal gravitational pull.”
“That’s bullshit.” Grace said before she could stop herself. Frankie’s head whipped in her direction. Her stunned look fuelled Grace’s anger.
“You just regret choosing me over Jacob. Well guess what Frankie? I’m sure he’d take you back in a second, you don’t have to travel twenty states just to get away from me. Thirteen hours was more than enough.” She spit out and surprisingly didn’t immediately wish she could take it back.
“I didn’t choose you over Jacob. I left Jacob and you just happened to still be here.” Her face was cold and the words bit at Grace more than she’d care to admit. Then all at once Frankie’s entire face fell. She placed her face into her palms and took a deep breath.
“I, I can’t do this Grace. That’s why I’m leaving. Because I can’t wake up every day and feel like this.”
Grace was still fighting to keep her anger from sizzling from within her. Anger is so much more comfortable than sadness. Than heartache.
“I am leaving. I just am, okay?”
Grace stayed silent. She stayed standing, her entire body shaking. Her ankles threatening to give out completely if she dare take a step.
“Well, then. I guess that’s that.”
Frankie sighed again and looked Grace directly in the eye.
“I think you need to do some of your own soul searching Grace, I mean that in the nicest way possible. I don’t know what you want and I feel like you don’t either but you need to figure it out. For your own sake.” And then she turned and walked out the door.
——-
Grace feels bile rise in her throat and she picks herself up from the bed once again and drags her tired body into the bathroom. She flicks on the light this time and immediately squeezes her eyes shut, still sore from crying.
She stares at herself in the mirror and cant help but notice how ragged she looks. Her hair is matted and her skin is pale. She runs her finger across the aching part of her shin, bruise surely already forming. She pushes her fingers until it hurts, then she straightens up, takes a deep breath and runs her fingers through her hair. She shuts out the light and makes her way downstairs.
When she gets to the studio she knocks efficiently, trying to convey as much confidence as possible, the cloak of the night around her working in her favour.
“I’m sleeping.” She hears through the door and she clutches her hand to her chest.
“Frankie please.”
“Goodnight Grace.”
Grace leans her head on the door, doesn’t try the handle even though she’s nearly certain Frankie would’ve forgotten to lock it.
“Okay Frankie. You don’t have to open the door okay? You don’t even have to answer me... but- but I’m going to talk okay?” Her voice is shaking and it isn’t because of the light wind across the ocean.
“Frankie I didn’t figure out what I wanted to say before I came out here and now I’m really wishing I would have...”
“But maybe it’s better because I know letting myself be vulnerable isn’t exactly my strong suit but I need you to know how important this is to me. How important you are to me.”
“When you left with Jacob I told you to go, because I was terrified of what it would mean if I needed you. I’m not very good at needing people,” Grace shrugs and takes a raspy breath, “I spent my entire marriage convinced I didn’t need Robert. I told myself that I chose to have him but that I would be just as fine without him, and then... when he left, I realized how untrue that was. How I was much more reliant on other people than I had ever wanted to believe. And it devastated me. I know when Sol left you felt like you lost a part of yourself, but when Robert left I felt like I found an entire piece of me that I had been ignoring. And it wasn’t pretty.” She tries to swallow the sob that threatens to erupt from her throat.
“And then when you first brought up leaving all of those feelings came back, the feelings of rejection and worthlessness and complete and utter loss. And I knew that I couldn’t do this again, that if you stayed because you felt like you had to I knew eventually you’d leave... I feel like you’d have some strange saying about caged birds or something right now if this were a conversation and not just me talking to a closed door.”
Grace waits, hoping Frankie’ll take the bait.
She doesn’t.
“But anyway..”, Grace continues, “I let you go and maybe my heart hadn’t been completely healed from Robert because my god Frankie it finally shattered. It took all I had to not actually let my entire self collapse into a pile of broken pieces.”
“But then you came back and I was scared to let my guard down again, because I guess a part of me knew you would walk into the kitchen one day and announce you were leaving again. I didn’t know it would be on a stupid fucking train but I guess I knew it would happen one way or the other.”
“And I don’t blame you for leaving, I don’t. Things haven’t been exactly wonderful around here, I’ve carried a lot of resentment and I know that’s not fair. And I’m sorry. There- I am. I am so sorry Frankie but I can’t live without you again. Please open the door. Please.” She pleads and then she waits.
“You’re drunk.” Is the first thing Frankie says when she opens the door and the disappointment shines in her eyes. She turns her back immediately and walks to the futon. Grace closes the door behind her but doesn’t make any effort to move closer.
“No. I’m not, I’m just tired. And sad. I wouldn’t do this to you drunk.”
“Yes you would.”
“Well, yes, okay maybe I would. But I’m not. I promise you.”
Frankie doesn’t ask her to solidify the promise their usual way and Grace can’t help but feel it as a rejection. Can’t help but feel the empty space between her lips and Frankie’s forehead.
“I- I meant it Frankie. I mean it. I can’t lose you again, I don’t want to ever lose you again.” Grace says and they stare at each other for moments longer than comfortable. She knows if Frankie doesn’t speak next she has to leave. There is nothing else she can say. Frankie has the floor. She feels herself take a half step backwards.
“Grace.” Frankie breathes and Grace never knew one word could hold so much power over her.
“Grace.” She repeats softly and she walks towards Grace.
“Frankie-“ Grace starts to fill the silence but Frankie pushes their bodies together and wraps her arms so tightly around her torso she can feel the love soak into her skin. She bites her tongue, desperate to speak now that she’s opened the floodgates but she can feel the importance of this silence. She curls around Frankie with a protectiveness she’s never felt before, not even with her own children. Being slightly taller allows her to wrap her arms around Frankie’s head and press her face into Frankie’s hair.
“I never got that promishshish”
“Hmm? Didn’t quite catch that for some reason.” Grace says amusedly as she pulls back slightly.
“I said.. I never got that promise kiss.” And she avoids Grace’s eyes. For a long drawn out moment Grace debates kissing her on the mouth, but she reminds herself the ball is in Frankie’s court. She takes Frankie’s cheeks into her hands like she has dozens of times and presses her lips firmly to the other woman’s forehead. It’s warm against her lips and she feels Frankie’s arms tighten around her body. When she pulls back Frankie looks up into her eyes and leans in again, so slowly that the anticipation has more than enough time to take control of Grace’s body.
The kiss is short and sweet and Grace is grateful. Her body is on fire with adrenaline and regret and a deep physical need.
“Was that it? Was that the whole speech?” Frankie asks, not giving any more space between them.
“No but I thought maybe you might want a turn to talk. I’ve never seen you so quiet.”
“I was busy listening. I can lock you outside again if it helps you finish?” She jokes and Grace has never been more grateful for a cheap stab at lightening the mood.
“I guess all I want to say is that this life with you is enough for me. More than enough! All I want are you and this house and vybrant and hell, I don’t even really care about the other two. I just want you to stay.”
“The only reason I wanted to leave was because I couldn’t live in this purgatory Grace. It took me two years to convince myself that I would never be able to love you like I wanted, and that’s why I left with Jacob.”
Grace’s eyes widen. It takes her brain a few seconds to register each of Frankie’s words.
“But it never felt right. And then I came back and that didn’t feel right either because I was dumb enough to believe things would be the same as before. But they haven’t been and I felt like I ruined what we had. And I don’t even know what that was-” Grace feels Frankie start to cry and she pulls her in tighter against her body.
“Hey... hey now.. don’t feel bad okay? We both acted poorly. I sure would’ve thought we’d’ve figured out how to communicate better by now, I mean isn’t that the whole point of aging? To grow wiser?”
Frankie sniffles and looks back up at her.
“So what does this mean? It’s too late for my deductive reasoning to work.”
“I don’t really know to be perfectly honest. But maybe I could sleep in here tonight and we can figure it out in the morning?”
“You never want to sleep here.” Frankie squints at her, “Are you sure you aren’t drunk?”
“Ha! Do you want me to promise again?”
“Maybe.” Frankie dares and Grace doesn’t need to be told twice as she swoops in and captures the other woman’s lips with her own. The kiss is much calmer now that both women have had the weights removed from their chests. Grace can’t help but notice how it feels much more like coming home than it does the fireworks people describe and she decides she likes it better.
As they head to bed they move mostly in silence, so much left to be said, so much left to be discovered but both confident that there is more than enough time left to figure it out, together.