Work Text:
Rays of light from the morning sun shone through the large windows of Mayor Holiday's office, casting a warm glow across her ornate rug. The northern and western walls of the room were lined with bookshelves and file cabinets, more utilitarian than decorative, filled with law books and paperwork. Directly across the room from the door, sitting at a sturdy wooden desk, was Mayor Carol Holiday herself.
The mayor wore her graying sandy blonde hair a little shorter than shoulder length, mostly pinned back, with a bit of hair hanging down in front to frame her face. She usually dyed her gray hairs to cover them up, but in the past few months she'd been spinning entirely too many plates at once and the grays, unfortunately, remained.
Soft little wisps of steam rose from the large to-go cup of black coffee on her desk— breakfast. The woman paid no mind to it however, as her focus was on a long handwritten letter in her hands. Several pages long, double sided, well worn creases from being folded and unfolded so many times. She sat, head down, both elbows on her desk, just staring at it.
7 months.
7 months ago, Rudy wrote this letter. And still, 7 months later, Carol didn't know how to feel. She wasn't sad, exactly. She hadn't even cried since that day. And she quietly resented herself for not feeling more emotional about it. Why couldn't she just feel sad like her daughters did? Break down and sob? Scream and kick and yell and cry? It felt somehow disrespectful to Rudy's memory to maintain such composure as she had. She was far too okay.
Her eyes scanned the last few shakily written lines of the letter.
"The most gut wrenching thing about this. The hardest thing I'll ever have to do in my life. Is to leave you, and Noelle, and Dess. I'm not scared to die, Carol, but I am scared of the hole I'll leave behind. I wish fate hadn't tied my hands like this, but. I'm going to lose this fight.
I want you to know that my pain is gone. And I want you to know that you and the kids will find a way to heal and grow. I want you to live your lives and never lose the light behind your eyes. Be each other's light. You can't grow stronger in the dark."
As much as she yearned for some emotion, all she felt was numb. She stared at his words, trying to summon some feeling, tears, pain, something. It was like her mind, in some misguided attempt at a coping mechanism, took all the normal emotions she should be feeling and filtered them into, just, stress. Carol felt stressed out, past her limits. Was stress even an emotion?? She certainly didn't feel good. She barely felt okay. Why couldn't she feel sad?
A knock at the door yanked her attention away like a dog on a short leash. In the span of a second, she snatched some printed out opinion polls from an organizer and covered the letter with them. She adjusted her posture and shoved her emotional conundrum to the back of her mind, hidden behind a well practiced facial expression and a demeanor of quiet control.
"Come in." She projected her voice loud enough to be heard through the solid wooden slab.
The knob turned and the door opened to reveal a young blonde monster woman with Rudy's antlers and her face.
"H-hi Mother!"
Luckily, the visitor was just her youngest, Noelle. Carol's posture softened and she clasped her hands together on her desk, arms further blocking the face-down letter from sight.
"Noelle dear! What are you doing here?"
"Sorry to bug you! Um, you left your lunch at home and Dess asked me to bring it to you on my way to class."
"Oh. Thank you. I was in such a rush this morning, you wouldn't believe."
This was half of a lie. Really, the stressors of her life had kept her thoughts churning all night and she barely got any sleep. She felt as if she were losing control of her life, all the tightly knit threads of her existence beginning to fray and tangle. It left her waking up late, moving slowly, and forgetting things, but that would be her secret for as long as she could keep it.
Noelle crossed the room, creating a brief ballet of dancing shadow as she walked through the beams of sunshine that bisected the office. She leaned against the arm of one of the chairs opposite her mother's desk and handed over the lunch bag.
"Busy day, it sounds like."
"Two committee meetings and one hearing."
This was entirely true. Her first appointment was in 40 minutes. She should have already been preparing for the engagements of her day, but instead she just. Stared at the letter again. She'd have to work off of her assistants notes.
"Gosh, that makes college sound easy."
"I manage. How's school been, by the way?"
"I've kept my 4.0 going."
"Excellent. What I meant however was, how is it to you? Making friends, learning new things?"
"Oh. Uh, yeah it's fine. Same friends mostly. Studying. Hanging out."
"Good, good. Glad to hear it."
A small pocket of silence in their smalltalk was punctuated by the sound of Noelle fidgeting with the zipper on her coat. Carol noticed that her daughter was wearing an unusual amount of black today, including her top mostly obscured by said coat.
"New shirt?"
Noelle was silent for a couple of seconds, clearly thinking of what to say as her nose began giving off the slightest glow. Carol followed up with a motherly facial expression which loosely translated to "Uh-huh, and?" Noelle unzipped the jacket to reveal the design on the shirt. It featured a crown sitting atop a pile of skulls and the name 'DEVILSKNIFE' scrawled across the bottom in red.
"I-It's a band shirt. Well, not banned like contraband, band like rock band. But not necessarily a ROCK band, but I guess it is actually a rock band though."
"I know what a band shirt is dear, I was a teenager once."
"Right, sorry."
"Would you care to explain what the hell Devil's Knife is? That shirt is incredibly dark imagery for a girl like you. Since when did you listen to THAT kind of music?"
Noelle winced and zipped her jacket all the way up to her neck.
"Well, actually, since... Since Susie started the band. She's the drummer."
Carol's eyebrows raised just slightly as this piece of the puzzle clicked into place. The skulls certainly looked like something Susie would come up with.
'Dating a drummer. Really does take after her father,' she thought to herself. Not that she would dare mention that aloud and risk invoking a reminder his absence.
"Ah, of course. Your girlfriend is in a band, that explains the— unusual attire. Noelle I must insist that the next time you visit my office you wear fewer visible skulls. People do know you're my child."
Noelle looked away, her face broadcasting a mix of frustration and embarrassment. As much as Carol could read Noelle's emotions like a book, (she didn't hide them well,) knowing what to do with that information was more difficult.
"Yes ma'am. Sorry. I'll cover up."
Noelle spoke in a flat tone that indicated she was checking out of the conversation, while still providing an obligatory response. Her body language conveyed that she was ready to leave. Seeing her daughter's face turned down and away made Carol feel... something.
The elder Holiday took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Why must this be so stressful too? The way her life had been going, the last thing she needed was more worry about her daughter pulling further away from her. She had so much trouble communicating with Noelle, no wonder Rudy was the one she told everything to.
"On second thought, Noelle, that wasn't fair of me. Please wear what you like. You're a grown woman, I can't tell you not to have a goth phase or whatever this is you're doing."
Carol had relented, concluding that this issue wasn't a hill she particularly wanted to die on. Noelle looked surprised, wearing an expression which telegraphed to her mother that she had all but blurted out 'What??'
"Please don't look at me like I have two heads, dear. I overstepped. My mistake."
Still, Noelle silently held her puzzled gaze.
"Thanks, I... I didn't expect to hear that, I guess?"
Noelle took an uncomfortable glance away, holding the sort of posture that Carol recognized as 'Anticipating a Reprimand,' or the 'Am I in Trouble?' hunch. The mother frowned. Failing once again to relate to her daughter, Carol felt a pang of helplessness which unfortunately just acted as more stress. She couldn't tell if she was the deer or the headlights.
Noelle took a hesitant step toward the door.
"I should, class, soon."
"Right, of course. Punctual as always. Thank you for bringing my lunch."
"You're welcome"
Noelle was once again crossing the room, shuffling sideways in order to maintain a polite amount of eye contact before she reached the door.
'How the hell did Rudy do it,' Carol wondered. With him, Noelle would share her thoughts and hopes and dreams but she just couldn't make that same kind of connection with her own daughter. Why couldn't she speak that language?
Just as Noelle turned the knob on the office door, Carol made her last ditch effort to salvage the moment.
"Noelle," she called out, prompting the young woman to turn and face her mother once more, temporarily thwarting her retreat.
"Susie, her music... she any good?"
This once again gave Noelle pause, her gaze averted as she chose her words before speaking.
"Yeah. She's really good. Their music is, weirdly enough, super cathartic to me. It's helped me through some stuff."
In this moment Noelle had dared to share a small nugget of emotional vulnerability with her mother, and Carol noticed. How to follow-up on it though, remained unclear to her. She should have a closer relationship with her daughter. To "be each other's light," in the words of her fallen love. She thought of how Rudy might act, and of his familiar tone of knowing affirmation.
"I'm glad that whatever type of music "devil's knife" is has been beneficial to you. I hope you enjoy yourself."
A single beat of awkward silence passed between the two.
"Genuinely," Carol clarified.
This had been a strange rollercoaster of a conversation, and Noelle was ready to get off. Clearly this attempt did not land.
"Thank you, mother. I should get going."
Noelle pulled open the door and crossed the threshold, slipping out of Carol's view. The latch clicked shut and the room was once again empty except for the mayor.
Carol closed her eyes for a moment, attempting to shake off the fog of embarrassment that had descended upon her mind. She was a lawyer and a politician, a skilled orator. She could read a room and speak to the needs of a populace. Sway a crowd or change a mind. And yet, she couldn't make a connection with her daughter. She wondered what was wrong with her.
She slid the paperwork aside and looked back down at the letter on her desk. She recalled how Noelle had been guarded around her since middle school at least. So long ago, her daughter was just a starry eyed little girl whose Mom and Dad were her whole world. She'd cry when they were away. Hug her mom's leg. Fall asleep in Carol's arms. But today, in the expansive wake of their greatest shared tragedy, the two were farther apart than ever.
It wouldn't be long before her little girl would finish school and leave home, maybe move in with her skate rat girlfriend, and Carol would see her on Thanksgiving and Christmas at best. She wouldn't be alone thankfully, Dess decided to stay in Hometown to make up for lost time, but the notion still stressed her out. She'd throw it on the growing mental pile of things that were already stressing her out.
A shrill chirp sounded from a speaker on her desk. Speak of the devil. The voice of her assistant Tracy crackled from the aging intercom system.
"Good morning Mayor Holiday. Your meeting with the Public Safety Oversight Committee begins in half an hour. I've drafted reference notes based on last month's minutes along with aggregated public feedback."
The mayor drew long, calming breath. She carefully folded the old letter and tucked it away in her bag, then did the same with all of the feelings that had been rampaging about in her mind. Work would help clear her head of the irrational hysterics that had been plaguing her consciousness. She took a sip of her reasonably warm coffee and held down the button on her intercom speaker.
"Thank you, Tracy. I'll grab the notes on my way out."
