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In the end, despite everything, it’s not Elizabeth’s article, or the revelation she provides over the phone - I like to keep her close with me - or her own courage that brings Ramona back to her. Just luck, chance, and Lily.
And isn’t that how it always goes.
Here’s how it actually happens:
They’re getting groceries on just another typical Sunday afternoon, Lily pleading for a box of Lucky Charms and Destiny reminding her that this is their Healthy Eating week they’ve agreed on, and midway through a sentence Lily just stops, mouth wide open. Destiny has a precious second to feel pleased that she’s gotten her point across before Lily speaks, voice high with surprise. “Aunt Ramona?”
Destiny freezes, her shoulders tensing up. There’s no response, but Lily’s still staring past her, and Destiny knows she’s going to turn and look before she does. Knows what she’s going to see staring back at her.
It feels like she’s been launched back in time, more than five years ago - standing in the club, alone, desperate, and meeting Ramona’s eyes across the room. The way her gaze held, the way her attention instantly shifted from whatever sleazy client she’d gotten for the night over to her. She was captured by that gaze from the very beginning, and it’s no different, almost ten years later.
“Aunt Ramona!” Lily repeats, pushing past Destiny to run over to her, box of Lucky Charms forgotten. She has her arms outstretched for a hug, and it isn’t lost on Destiny how Ramona drops her stance to hug her back, instinctual even after all this time. She squeezes Lily tight, chin tucked against her shoulder. “Hey, Lily.” She looks up at Destiny, expression unreadable. “Destiny.”
Lily doesn’t pick up on the tension, or if she does, she certainly doesn’t show it. She grins wide at Ramona, nothing but delighted to see her again. “We haven’t seen you in forever! Where have you been? I missed you!”
Something flickers in Ramona’s eyes, unmistakeable, and Destiny feels her chest ache. She gives Lily a small smile. “I’ve been busy, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I didn’t visit you. I missed you too.”
Destiny’s aware she’s still standing, frozen, a distance away, like an idiot, but she just can’t seem to move. It’s been… so long - no, it hasn’t. Not really. But it feels like they’re worlds away from when she knew she could run to Ramona and be sure of where she stood. Now she’s right there, in the flesh, and Destiny would be lying if she said she hadn’t wanted this, hoped for this, every second from the last time Ramona walked away from her, but she can’t, she doesn’t know how -
“Mom!” Lily calls, and Destiny startles. “Come say hi!”
She’s not sure if that’s the best course of action, but before Destiny can reply, Ramona just picks her up with a smile. “I’ll come over to say hello, honey.” She cocks her head and gives Destiny a long look, and only stops when she’s barely a breath away, so close. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Destiny manages through the thorns in her throat. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has.” Ramona’s voice is level, steady, and the softness in her eyes is almost too much to bear. “How’ve you been doing?”
There’s no bitterness in the words, not at all, but Destiny feels them like a dagger in her side anyway. How have you been doing? Good? Free and untouchable because you sold Annabelle and Mercedes and I out when we would never have done the same? The last time she ever saw Ramona, they were crying, so far from the time of their lives when they were hurricanes. Ramona walked away, and Destiny can’t even fathom a universe where she’s been forgiven.
But Lily is chattering on happily about their beautiful house, her friends in elementary school, her badminton classes on Fridays. Ramona strokes a hand over her hair, but her eyes remain on Destiny’s face. “Good to hear you’re doing well.”
“How are you doing, Aunt Ramona?” Lily asks, all innocent. Ramona chuckles. “Nothing as exciting as you, honey. Just a boring job in a boring office. I just wake up every day, go to work, pick Juliet from school, then go home… nice and simple. I’m all right.”
The tightness in Destiny’s throat doesn’t dissipate, because God, she knows better than anyone else how that kind of life must be chafing on Ramona, who was always so brilliant, so alive. Lily must think the same - she wrinkles her nose and sets her jaw firmly. “That’s boring! Are you just gonna go home after buying groceries?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I don’t really have anywhere to go.”
“Come over for dinner!” Lily chirps in reply. She turns back to smile wide at Destiny. “Can she, Mom? Please? It’s been forever!”
Ramona’s gaze drops, returns to Lily. “Hey, no, Lily. I don’t think your mom would like that. I’m just going to head off, okay?”
The wave of panic nearly knocks Destiny off her feet - the thought of Ramona just turning away and leaving all over again, leaving them no idea when they’ll ever cross paths again. She doesn’t think she could bear that. Before she can think twice, she steps closer. “No, I - you should come over, if you want to.” She attempts a smile, a real one. “It’s steamboat tonight. You’ll love it.”
“All right,” Ramona says, quicker than Destiny expected, almost tender. “Let’s do it.”
It’s weird, because Destiny expects dinner to be an awkward affair - for reasons evident - but Ramona, despite everything that’s happened, is still Ramona. She listens intently to Lily’s animated rundown of her week, tells her jokes and makes her laugh, and talks about how well Juliet’s doing in school right now. At one point she steals some bok choy off Destiny’s plate with a wink and it startles Destiny enough to laugh out loud and snatch it back. It eases the tension she’s holding on her shoulders, somewhat.
It all comes back, after, when they’re done with dinner and Lily’s using her allotted hour of TV in the living room and Ramona quietly joins Destiny at the sink. They wash the dishes together in silence, heavy in the air, until Ramona finally breaks it, just barely. “She’s grown up.”
“Yeah,” Destiny says softly. “She’s a great kid.” Her hands are beginning to tremble where she scrubs the plates. She can’t look Ramona in the eye. “Ramona, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You know what.” Ramona shrugs, the movement graceful, and Destiny can’t decide whether to be annoyed or not. “For taking the deal. For selling you out.”
Ramona glances in the direction of the living room, where the strains of some cartoon fade in through the doorway. “You did it for Lily. I get it. I’m not mad, Destiny. I never was.”
She doesn’t expect the white-hot rage that rises up inside her, mixed with grief, with confusion. “Then why didn’t you contact me? Why didn’t you ever call or text? I didn’t even know you’d gotten out of prison. I didn’t know you were still in the state. I didn’t even know whether you were alive until Elizabeth came to talk about her fucking article!” The tears are beginning to well in her eyes, and Destiny tries furiously to blink them away. “I thought you hated me. I thought you just never wanted to see me again.”
“Baby, I could never hate you,” Ramona says, hand coming to rest lightly on Destiny’s wrist. “I just wasn’t in the best place for the longest time, okay? And I didn’t want all that shit affecting you and Lily. I’m sorry.” She steps forward and wraps Destiny in an embrace that feels all-too-familiar. Destiny lets herself fall back into it, sob like an idiot right into Ramona’s shirt. God, she missed this more than she can say, doesn’t want to let go ever again.
“You should come over for dinner again,” she finally says, muffled through the crying. “Bring Juliet. Lily misses her.” I miss you, Destiny doesn’t add - she can’t, she just can’t, not yet. She thinks Ramona hears it anyway, when she presses a gentle kiss to Destiny’s temple. “Okay. We’ll do that.”
“You promise?” It feels foolish to ask, but Destiny needs to hear that. Needs to hear that Ramona isn’t just going to disappear from her life again. Ramona just hugs her a little tighter. “Promise.”
They do come over for dinner, three nights later, and this time Juliet and Lily sit together playing a board game while Destiny breaks out some wine and they sit together on the couch catching up on everything that’s happened. Ramona’s on probation now, holding a desk job at some boring corporate firm, keeping her nose clean. Destiny thinks she shouldn’t be surprised that Ramona’s still in touch with Annabelle and Mercedes. “They’re on probation too. Annabelle’s working at this no-kill shelter, and Mercedes’ got a kid on the way.”
“With Dragon?”
“Jesus, no. She met this straitlaced architect dude when she was doing barista work for a while, fell head over heels. Wedding’s probably next year. You should go.” Ramona’s tone softens. “They miss you too. We all do.”
“I don’t understand,” Destiny whispers. “How can they not hate me? How can they - I sold you out. All of you. How can they not be angry?”
“Because we’re family,” Ramona replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
The tears are coming again, as Ramona puts an arm around her shoulders. “We were a family with money.”
“And now we’re a family without it. Okay? Always, baby girl. Always.”
Always, Destiny thinks, and tries to hold on to that.
She does get back in touch with Annabelle and Mercedes, after that, but it’s still Ramona who starts making dinner a regular thing. It’s so easy to slip back into the old patterns, just without the crime and danger, this time. Destiny’s reminded of why she slipped so far into that darkness in the first place. Of course there was the money, the sense of control - but at the heart of it, it was always also still Ramona, with her cocky smile and charisma and the power she held in her hand. Who took her in when she was young and so unsure of what she was doing and taught her how to thrive, who gave her direction and friendship and family -
And if she’s being honest with herself, who she basically fell in love with the first time she saw her dance in the club, so very long ago -
A lifetime away.
She’d thought it might happen, once or twice, when things were still bright and beautiful, popping bottles of champagne in glitzy hotel rooms and laughing the nights away. Slow nights with the other girls in the club, the one time they played Spin the Bottle and she got to watch Ramona make out with Tracey and wish for a second - just a second - that it was her instead. That one Christmas they all spent in a penthouse suite on some corporate shark’s dime, when the two of them ended up drinking in the kitchen because it was the furthest corner away from the bedroom where Annabelle and Mercedes were hooking up. Destiny remembers being a little more sober than Ramona was, Ramona laughing and drunkenly pointing in the general direction of the bedroom. “Amateurs,” and then dropping her head against Destiny’s shoulder, breath warm against her jaw. “We should show them how it’s done.”
She’d wanted to kiss her then, blamed it on the liquor in the morning, but Destiny knows what - who - she’s always wanted. Even in the sea of nameless, faceless men she danced for, fucked around with - always.
But life just didn’t work out in their favour, and oh, Destiny thinks bitterly, isn’t that how it always goes.
Three months after their friendship’s finally, shakily, gotten back on track, when Ramona’s coming over for dinner basically every day and Juliet’s practically installed herself in her living room along with Lily, they’re on the couch again and Ramona’s digging through her bag for her lighter, and tossing things out haphazard in the attempt. Her wallet comes unopened, contents scattering themselves right in front of Destiny - some change, a war medal, and - Elizabeth’s words, from months ago, from that phone call, rushing in her head. When Ramona finds the lighter and brandishes it triumphantly, she pauses on Destiny holding a familiar photograph in her hand, staring down at it. “Destiny?”
“I almost didn’t believe Elizabeth,” Destiny says, low, pained. Their eyes meet. “You really kept it?”
Ramona nods, and Destiny tightens her grip on the picture, trying to swallow down the ache of chances missed, of time wasted, of hope. “It’s just me. You don’t have one of Annabelle, or Mercedes - of all of us, together. Why?”
Ramona gives her a very long look, head tilted, expression open and earnest and strangely resigned in a way Destiny doesn’t think she remembers ever seeing. It’s honest, vulnerable, and for so long, Ramona was neither of those things, and yet.
And yet.
“I think you know why,” she says quietly, and Destiny thinks she does, and if anything, that’s worse. Her nails dig into her palm, her fingers curled into fists. “Since when?”
She laughs, mirthless, almost sad. “Since the start.”
“Why didn’t you ever just tell me?” Her vision is beginning to blur - surely Ramona knew, all this time, because for her it was from the word go, too. “Why did we waste all that fucking time?”
“Because I was scared,” she answers. So simple - nothing but that. True, too - Destiny can hear it, knows it without a doubt, and it only makes her angrier. “Bullshit. You’ve never been scared of anything in your fucking life, Ramona, I know you.”
“Then I guess you don’t actually, huh?” Ramona’s eyes flash, and she straightens where she sits. “Fuck you. You have no fucking idea how scared I was, all right? With you just sweeping into my world and - turning it upside down, fuck, I don’t even know. You appeared and suddenly I was ready to stand against the Devil himself to keep you safe and make you happy and it was the scariest goddamn thing I’ve ever known, okay? And then the recession, and our whole scheme falling apart, and the arrest, the plea deal… fuck.” She inhales, deep and shaky. “I was untouchable and fearless, once. And then I met you, and I, I lost everything. Everything, Destiny. For you.”
For you.
Her breath catches, in her chest, her heartbeat roaring in her ears, and Destiny inches closer, settles between Ramona’s knees, cups her cheek and meets her eyes. “Do you regret it?”
Ramona doesn’t flinch, but her voice is soft. “Do you regret taking the deal?”
She thinks of Lily, safe, happy, sound asleep in her bedroom, living in a good neighbourhood, going to a good school. “No.”
And Ramona just smiles at her, a small thing, watery, but sincere. “Then you know.”
They kiss - slow, quiet, almost chaste, Ramona’s hand drifting up the curve of her spine to rest against the back of her neck. It’s bittersweet. She’s wanted this for so long, always has, but it feels terribly belated. They shouldn’t have had to go almost a decade not knowing how this felt. She wonders if it would have changed anything. She’ll never know, and that, Destiny thinks, might be the true tragedy about it.
“I loved you,” Ramona murmurs against her lips, and Destiny’s not stupid, won’t proclaim that Ramona’s never lied to her, but this - this, she knows to be a truth. She presses her forehead against Ramona’s, trying and failing to stop the tears falling. “I still do.”
Ramona laughs, soft and sad. “We were hurricanes, Destiny.” Destiny hears the emphasis on were. “I’m sorry.”
It sounds like a goodbye - and Destiny’s done with goodbyes. They were hurricanes, and now - she doesn’t know what they are now, but they’ll never be again, but she doesn’t care. Maybe that was never what she needed, anyway. They fucked up. She fucked up. And if she could turn back time - to the moment before she agreed to the deal, to that one glorious Christmas, to 2007, that very first day, and make things right - but she can’t. She’ll never be able to. She’s right here. They’re right here. And this one thing, she thinks, she can make right, here and now. Destiny tightens the arm around Ramona’s waist. “Stay with me.”
“It isn’t 2007 any more, baby.” But her voice wavers, and Destiny knows she doesn’t want to let go, either. “We don’t need it to be.” She leans back so they can look at each other - really look, in a way they haven’t done since ever. “We were at the bottom, once. More than once. And we made it back up, together. We can do it again. The right way, this time. We don’t need hurricanes. Just each other.”
And shit, Ramona’s crying now, and Destiny feels like she’s finally seeing her. Like the clouds have lifted, and it’s just the two of them, who they really are, who they always have been, underneath all the glamour, all the darkness. “Yeah?” She reaches for Destiny’s hand, tangles their fingers together. “You promise?”
“Promise,” Destiny says, and everything begins anew.