Chapter Text
Now we are even…
Except, there hadn’t been any ill intent. Steve was dead – by her hand. Ted was dead – killed by Judy and Steve. Fucking Steve. Steve who is – was - a fucking asshole who fucking deserved to die for being such a shithead. Steve who has – had – such control over Judy, who fucking stopped Judy from doing the right thing; who was responsible for her kids’ father dying a slow and painful death on the side of the road like an animal to be found as roadkill. Steve who fucking ruined everything, who had to get himself shot by her by her fucking pool, feet away from where her kids are asleep and shit!
The kids!
Fuck! Charlie was probably awake – fucking teenagers!
Her phone is against her ear without her realizing and she’s uttering words that are not registering.
Her voice is calm and steady – so unlike what she feels at the moment, because she is freaking out but her body is taking over and soon her hand hangs by her side clutching her phone like a lifeline. She considers going upstairs to check on the kids but when no one comes rushing out and no lights are turning on upstairs, and no curtains are being drawn to the sides – she decides against it. Henry is most definitely asleep, and Charlie is either asleep or gaming with his ridiculously expensive headphones on that Lorna got him.
She takes a deep breath.
The kids are fine.
She can’t remember how loud the shot had been – had it been loud at all? She looks around and listens. There are no sirens wailing in the distance, no flashing lights, no nosey neighbours coming out of their houses in their bathrobes, no lights turning on. She spots her newly installed security system and freaks out. Is the security company monitoring all of this? Fuck! Is she going to go to jail and leave her kids in the care of fucking Lorna? Fuck! She will never see them again and –
She takes a deep breath.
It was self-defence.
She takes a deeper breath and attempts to center herself, and remembers the cameras are not working yet.
Her right hand is numb and heavy, and she looks down and realizes she is still holding the gun. The gun with which she shot shithead Steve. She puts the gun back in her robe’s pocket, looks down at her phone and unlocks it. She placed a call eight minutes ago. She called Judy.
Fucking Judy.
Eight minutes plus however long it passed before she called Judy. Eight minutes and still no cops, no blaring sirens, no one. No one except for her and the floating body of Steve.
She needs a stiff drink.
She feels… strangely numb and about to combust from whatever the fuck she is feeling, and she hates it. She’s frozen. Ten minutes and Steve keeps floating and bleeding out in her pool. How rude. Of course. Of course he has to ruin her pool as well, specially when money is tight – and why the fuck is she even thinking about that? Is she that shallow? Is she going all dissociative? And where the fuck is Judy? And why did she call the one person in her circle who doesn’t own a car – oh, wait, at least not after running over Ted. It could take Judy at least a fucking half an hour from whatever the fuck she fucked off to.
Twelve minutes and she is still not in handcuffs; her kids are not being dragged out of their beds; and she is still standing there staring at the pool.
She can’t stop staring. The pool is turning purple, red, pink… and Steve is still floating, and she can’t seem to wake up and god, why can’t she seem to wake up? She looks to her left – the lights upstairs are still off, there is no movement inside the house. The neighbouring houses are dark.
It is still just her and Steve.
She hears a rustle coming from behind and suddenly Judy is standing next to her - mouth agape. Now we are even goes through her mind again. And it makes her feel disgusting. It makes her feel sick because that is not what she had intended. At least she thinks she hadn’t - no, she knows she hadn’t. Judy looks at her with her big puppy eyes and together they turn their eyes to where he is. His body. His corpse - and god she sounds like that morbid kid. And Jen thinks again - Why did she call Judy? Why when she could so easily turn her in? But Jen knows, knows in her heart, Judy would not do that. Plus it was self-defence. And so they stand there, each immersed in thought and Steve just keeps floating there.
“What do you need me to do?”
Those big brown eyes are looking at her and Jen just cannot for the life of her comprehend this woman. Judy, who is always so quick to give and who could care less about taking, who doesn’t expect to get anything in return. Judy, whose ex-fiancé, a man whom she loved for years and with whom she tried to start a family, is floating dead in Jen’s pool and all she can think of saying is “What do you need me to do?” And Jen doesn’t know whether she wants to yell at her, slap her, push her into the pool, or just - god, why does Judy have to complicate everything and why does she have to be the way she is? Jen wishes she could tell her, “this is how you fucking make it up to me. This is how you finally go to jail.” But she can’t because she is still broken hearted about the truth behind Ted’s death but this woman standing next to her kept her from falling apart more times that she’d like to admit. She kept her family together and she offered respite from all the shit that came with Ted’s death. She just can’t hate her as much as she’d like to. Because Judy just burrowed into her life and her kids’ heart like a fucking tick and as much as Jen would like to hate her - she realizes she can’t. She’ll yell and she’ll tear her apart and show her how angry she is and go ape on her but Jen knows she’ll tear herself up as well in the process before she can hate her.
***
The cops arrive 8 minutes after they placed the call. Jen cannot remember if it was her or Judy who placed it. All she knows is that she told Judy she needed her by her side and that meant both of them not going to jail. She’s still in a daze but instinct takes over. She knows she told Judy what she needed her to say but she can’t remember what it was. It’s when she is at the station going over her statement for the third time that she can finally hear her own voice. She tells the detectives the truth - that Steve had come looking for Judy and that he was angry at her for turning him in; that he had been drinking - that they were sharing a drink when he slipped up and told her he had run her husband over. She tells them he got violent and that when he went to grab her, she shot him. She explains that she started having the gun within reach when Judy told her she suspected it had been Steve who had ran Ted over and that she kicked her out and didn’t want her around her house; specially after she told the police about her suspicions and the police did nothing. But then they ask her why had Judy been at her place that night. Jen says that she called her when Steve was overstaying his welcome and asked her to come over. Jen makes sure to let them know how controlling with Judy he was and how much of an asshole he was. She remembers then that she told Judy to pin it all on him - that she wasn’t sure until a few days ago and that she was wracked with guilt and decided to confess to a crime she didn’t commit in an attempt to make it up to the family she had gotten close to. Jen knows Judy can sell the tortured-guilt angle very well because that’s how the woman truly feels. Jen just hopes Judy doesn’t slip up and that she corroborates her story because she won’t be able to do this alone.
***
In the end, neither of them serves any time. Judy isn’t charged with obstructing justice or for providing a false confession - her saving grace had been turning in Scott when she did, providing the feds with information they had been looking for years. As for the boys, Jen decides to tell them as little as possible. That night before the police arrives, she decides then and there that they would never know about Judy’s involvement. They could never know. It would break them - Henry more than Charlie, and she could not do that to her little boy when he absolutely adored Judy. She couldn’t fuck Charlie up either more than she already had.
Charlie is understandably angry and suspicious of Judy but Jen thinks Judy’s earnest expression wins him over. There is never a trial, and Jen is the one feeding the kids information. All they know is that the hit and run driver had been identified, and that it happened to be Judy’s emotionally abusive asshole of an ex-fiancé who laundered money for the Greeks. All they know is that he was a criminal that was getting away with shit and that he tried to hurt Jen and had hurt Judy over the years, and that Jen shot him in self defense. Henry, her precious boy, doesn’t stop hugging Jen and Judy, grateful to have them in his life, and he tells Judy, “I’m sorry he was a bad man and that he hurt you.” And Charlie, who seems to have inherited her anger, glares at Judy and says nasty, hurtful things because he can’t believe she didn’t know; he can’t believe it was happenstance that she came into their lives. And Jen sometimes lets him because if he knew the truth he would never forgive either of them, and he is well within his rights but sometimes she steps in an redirects his anger towards her because Judy, who doesn’t have to stand there and take it, is completely devastated and destroyed every single time Charlie goes off and Jen can’t stand it.
When Lorna does it, that’s another story altogether. With the tension at home, she lets the boys spend more time with the she-devil of a grandmother they have than she would have liked to because it both serves to calm Charlie down, and rile him up. She makes sure Judy is not around whenever Lorna drops the kids off and a day or two after that depending on Charlie’s mood.
A year goes by and Charlie’s anger seems to have simmered down - now his anger and angst is typical teenager shit. He warms up to Judy again seven months after the whole fiasco, even if just a smidge at first, Jen counts that as a victory. Now, Charlie greets Judy as he greets everybody, glares at her like he glares at everyone else, and smiles and laughs with her when he is not busy being a little shit. A year goes by and Jen asks Judy to move back into the guest house - might as well since Judy spends all her waking hours at Jen’s when she’s not at work. Henry is predictably delighted when Jen tells them Judy is moving in, Charlie makes no comment, just shrugs and says, “Cool. Can we have pizza?” And Jen - to be honest she doesn’t know what compelled her to ask. She just knows it has been feeling weird for months seeing Judy leave through the front door at the end of the day, and it feels weird coming home at the end of the day when the kids are with Lorna to an empty house. And it feels weird when she comes back from work and it is just her and the boys because not only can she feel Ted’s absence but Judy’s as well. And her anger has also simmered down, and it just makes sense for Judy to move back in.
Still, the proposal spews out of Jen’s mouth unexpectedly and very nonchalantly one night when they are all having Judy’s made from scratch vegetarian lasagna that even Charlie loves. And Henry’s exuberant “please, Judy please!” jars Jen from the daze she succumbed to, to realize what she had just asked. She looks at Judy as if she didn’t just surprise the shit out of herself and takes sip (more of a gulp) of her white wine and raises her eyebrow at her, and Judy can only stare back with the most perplexed look she’s ever seen. And thank god that Jen’s brain works weirdly because the next thing she knows she is asking Henry about his upcoming recital to redirect the conversation and change the topic without breaking a sweat. God, she’s starting to think she’s a sociopath. The last thing her kids need is a mother with split personality disorder or whatever the medical term is.
A week goes by where they both avoid talking about it altogether, skirting around the subject whenever Henry asks when Judy is moving-in. On the ninth day, while sharing a bottle of wine while making lunch (because money is still tight but she’ll allow for - and enjoy - some luxuries, damn it) Judy brings it up and Jen realizes that she could just say, “forget it, I didn’t really mean it,” or something along those lines but when Judy asks her whether she meant it, whether she was joking, Jen shrugs and says she wasn’t and that the offer still stands. Jen continues dicing the tomatoes and she thinks she hears a sniffle coming from Judy but she doesn’t turn to look at her. Before Judy heads home that night, she tells her she would love to move back in if that is what Jen truly wants.
***
Eight months after that, their friendship is still fucked up but somehow they work. Somehow they make sense. Judy lives at the guest house, which Lorna continuously throws a fit about, and the kids still love having Judy around and life is as good as it can be for two people whose friendship is based on lies and manslaughter. They find a nice routine that works for all four of them. When Jen can’t make it to one of the boys’ parent-teacher meetings or maybe one of Henry’s presentations, Judy goes in her stead and the kids don’t seem to mind. If anything, Charlie prefers when it is Judy that goes to the parent-teacher nights because he gets to get away with shit since Judy tends to sugar-coat things for her when she’s debriefing her. Of course, Jen knows what she is doing and calls her out on it but Charlie – the little shit - seems to notice it softens up the blow.
It is a sunny Wednesday afternoon when she’s walking towards Henry’s classroom that she hears Henry introduce Judy to a new friend as his mom’s girlfriend. Jen wants to die. Her fucking heel gets caught in the concrete and she stumbles and drops her keys and she looks around thanking nobody seems to have noticed her and when she looks up towards her son she sees Judy putting a fish to shame and stumbling over her words trying to gently correct Henry but the words don’t seem to come out and Henry and his friend are already scampering away. Jen takes a deep breath and leans against a nearby column and curses.
On the ride back home and later that night, Judy doesn’t mention anything, and Jen pretends she didn’t hear anything.
Over the next few months it comes to her attention that Henry has been introducing and referring to Judy as her girlfriend, and she realizes she cannot ignore that. She sits him down and they have a talk about how Judy is most definitely her girlfriend, and Henry asks, “Why not? You love her and she loves you,” and Jen just about dies and just repeats that they are not in a relationship.
***
Two and a half years since that fateful night when everything changed - and whenever Judy goes to the guesthouse for the night, it feels weird. Jen doesn’t know why but it feels weird. Things are definitely so much better now. Judy still paints and still works at the retirement home, and she’s even managed to sell her paintings for a very pretty penny. Her paintings have changed, she paints more than little girls and now the little girls are not hollow on the inside, but they are happy. And Jen is actually doing very well - she is kicking Lorna’s ass and she couldn’t be happier about it, and the money coming in every month is more than enough for them to keep the house, pay the bills and enjoy the one or three luxuries every now and then. It certainly helps that now it is two-income home and that Judy’s paintings sell for so much when they do. They still have Steve’s cheque somewhere. They decided that it would only be used in an emergency and rather, it would go for the kids’ college fund (and Jen prays they both decide to go to college- Charlie, almost seventeen now, still seems on the fence and it worries her). They have a system going and it works great for them so Jen can’t understand why it feels so weird when Judy heads back to the guesthouse. She had offered Judy the guest room in the main house about three months back but Judy had declined, saying that it felt like too much, like she was invading to much, imposing, and try as she might, she could not convince Judy otherwise, that she was welcomed and that this was also her home.
Jen pretends it doesn’t hurt.
She also becomes very aware of the little things, the little touches that kill her slowly. Jen has never been a very touchy person and she is amazed since meeting Judy how touchy she has been with her and how comfortable she is with that when she had never been like that from the get-go with anyone. She realizes one day when they are watching some ridiculous school play Henry insisted on being in, when she has her arm resting lazily on Judy’s chair, grazing her shoulder and hanging limply mid forearm, and Judy very studiously watching the play and awing, interlinks their hands and rubs Jen’s back of the hand on autopilot that there had been many moments like that. Many moments in which they were suddenly touching without conscious thought. Needless to say, Jen doesn’t pay attention to the play after that. Not that she was really paying attention before.
And now Jen realizes why it feels so weird when Judy leaves and fuck, it throws her in for a loop because of course she has to develop those feelings for Judy because why the fuck not? She shouldn’t be surprised at this point in time at the turns her life takes. Jen is a wreck after that. Now, she fucking blushes, and stutters and overanalyzes everything and maybe she blushed before and maybe she stumbled over her words before and she was awkward but at least she didn’t know about it. Now, god now she feels miserable - like a fucking teenager - feels awkward all the time because one night as Chris so bluntly and mercilessly points out, she has been dating a woman for almost three and a half years, and okay, barring the blunder that first year and a half, she’s been dating a woman for almost two years and she hadn’t fucking noticed. Christopher kindly tells her they pulled an Uhaul and still they both fucking don’t know they’ve been dating for the better part of their friendship. And the fucker fucking uses bunny quotes with the word friendship. She curses at him and leaves in her terrifying fury and when she gets to her car, she drives it to a park and blasts her Metal and curses because the little fucker is sort of right. Neither of them has tried to date anyone, they just stuck to their routine. It was a given that at the end of the day they would go back home to each other, to their little family. And fuck, fuck! The days after he drops that bombshell on her is that she starts noticing the little things which in retrospect are not so little.
Whenever they pass each other in the hall or when they move around each other in the kitchen, they are always touching; a hand to the small of the back, a squeeze on the shoulder, pinkies interlocking for a few precious seconds, two hands on the waist guiding the other one forward, backward, sideways. When they watch tv or when they are simply chatting on the couch at the end of the day there’s always a hand on her lap that is not hers and somehow they always end up holding hands or she ends up massaging Judy’s palms, fingers and hands that ache from holding a paintbrush for so long. Whenever the are near each other, there’s always at least one point of contact and Jen thinks it is disgusting since when the fuck did she constantly need to be touching someone?
One night, the four of them are watching blockbusters from the 90’s and when Charlie get’s up and nudges Henry awake and they both head off to bed - she turns to find Judy all snuggled up to her and fast asleep and she thinks how it has happened several times and the boys have never made a comment. She thinks back to Henry calling Judy her girlfriend a few months back and she wants to kick herself because of course her kid was confused, of course he thought they were an item if this was the sort of things he had been seeing daily, and of course her prepubescent son figured it out before her.
Although - they really aren’t dating but they kind of are? Why does everything have to be so complicated with Judy?
Except things were also so very uncomplicated with her, so superbly easy and comfortable.
Jen considers pretending to also have fallen asleep and spend the night there with Judy but fuck that, she is a grown woman and she is in her forties and her neck and back would not forgive such transgression so she gently wakes Judy up and says, “let’s go to bed,” and when Judy sleepily shuffles towards the back door, Jen grabs her by the hand and leads her upstairs and suddenly Judy is wide awake. In her room, Jen heads towards the bathroom, turns on the light, grabs an extra toothbrush, hands it to Judy and sets about getting ready for bed. A few minutes go by before Judy follows her lead and suddenly, they both have clean teeth, fresh breath and a bed all to themselves. Jen avoids eye contact, mentally kicking herself for not thinking this through, and thanks herself for not turning on the bedroom’s lights. Jen makes sure she lies on Ted’s side of the bed and pats her side expectantly. Judy shuffles awkwardly before climbing into bed and Jen curses herself for her lack of foresight. Of course Judy must feel awkward not only because of the situation they find themselves in right now but because this was the room Jen used to share with Ted, the room where Ted used to sleep in and where they had sex and fought and shared many happy and many sad moments in. She had gotten rid of the bed and the mattress about a year ago and overall redecorated her room, and she thinks that must have at least count for something since Judy isn’t crawling up the walls or hyperventilating. She can feel how stiff Judy is next to her and although her eyes have not adjusted to the dark yet, she knows other woman is staring blankly at the ceiling probably freaking out and waiting for Jen to fall asleep so she can run to her room. Jen freaks out herself because she doesn’t know what to do to calm Judy’s nerves. She thinks about reaching out and holding Judy’s hand but it feels like it would be too jarring. She also thinks of maybe apologizing and giving the other woman an out but it’s raining outside and Jen selfishly wants Judy by her side tonight so that is not an option and god, she is gonna drive herself crazy with all this indecision and uncertainty.
“Tell me about Abe,” she whispers into the night and little by little she hears Judy’s apprehension slip away, passion and fondness quickly take over and suddenly is not so awkward anymore and they are both chuckling at Abe’s antics and suddenly it is the next day and Judy is cuddled up to her, her cold nose pressing up against her neck, and Jen thinks she would like to wake up to this more often even though she is not a cuddler.
***
They first kiss out of nowhere in the most innocuous of ways. It’s probably a month after that night in Jen’s room and they are at the beach with the boys enjoying the sunshine and the cooling breeze. The women are watching the boys play in the water, laughing at the kids, and Jen makes a comment about a man down the beach that has them both cracking up and they both turn to each other at the same time, still laughing and smiling, and their lips meet in a quick peck and they both continue laughing and it seems to take them both more than a few seconds to register what just happened. Jen stills, smiles sheepishly when they finally make eye contact again and looks down embarrassed. She hears Judy chuckle beside her and when she looks up confused, Judy smiles, leans in and kisses her cheek.
“You are blushing,” she says.
Jen rolls her eyes. “Thanks for pointing that out, you ass.”
Judy chuckles again, grabs a hold of Jen’s hand and looking into her eyes she places a kiss on her knuckles, “I think it is kinda cute.”
Jen absolutely takes offense and as she indignantly lists off the reasons as to why she is most definitely not cute, Judy cuts her off with a kiss to her lips and Jen forgets what she was trying to say and instead kisses the other woman properly.
She thinks she hears, “gross!” and “finally!” coming from her kids and she gives them – mostly Charlie – the finger.