Work Text:
Lorna's husband, Bob, doesn't like the idea of a divorce.
"It's messy," he mutters the one time she brings it up. "Complicated. It's not how a family should be. We made a commitment."
Lorna carefully doesn't remind him that neither of them have held up their ends of that commitment for a long time.
It hardly matters, though. The kids are all gone now--Stanley a police detective with a new fiancee and gleaming commendations, Eugene in the midst of a military tour that she hopes to god will sort him out, Sheila in medical school and living with girlfriends--so if Bob wants to move to the country indefinitely to "work through some things" instead of signing a piece of paper, she doesn't mind. He's still got some honor, and she trusts he won't ruin her credit or destroy her good name. If he wants to cling to this mask of respectability instead of making a clean break, it's not going to stop her from living her life, with or without him.
***
Lorna started as a waitress at the Factory while she was in college. She thought she'd stay until she met a husband, then leave to start a family, but Harold Akins, the old owner, saw something in her that she didn't yet see in herself. She switched to a business major and by the time she was on stage receiving her diploma, she was already handling all the day to day managerial tasks at the Factory. She took a little time off when she married Bob and again when each of her children were born, but the Factory was her first love.
Then Bob had his accident. She missed a week of work and then gave her two weeks' notice. She was needed at home, and she understood that. If she resented the loss of her career, it was easy enough to hide it in homecooked meals and effusive support. Bob had always been dour, but his outlook was bleak, now. Someone had to make sure the bills were getting paid.
When Sheila was graduating high school, Lorna took a call from Harold. He was getting ready to retire, he said. He wanted to sell the Factory, he said. Lorna felt her heart squeeze into her throat and tears well up in her eyes. She had been away from the Factory for a decade, but it was still her second home. She couldn't imagine it being run by a stranger, or worse--converted into a trendy boutique or fast food restaurant.
"Lorna, I think you should buy it off of me," Harold said, and Lorna's heart stopped altogether.
She tried to protest, but already her mind was running the numbers. Bob was doing much better than he had been after the accident. He was working full time, and with Sheila leaving for college in the fall, she'd have plenty of time on her hands. They couldn't exactly afford to buy the Factory outright, but Harold had to know that, and if he was offering, he had a plan in place, she knew.
She didn't consult with Bob. By the end of the conversation, she said yes and promised to meet with Harold at the end of the week. Maybe that was the beginning of the end.
***
Betty came with the Factory. She was a townie, not a student, and she worked full time. The girl was tough as nails and intimidating as hell, even though Lorna was old enough to be her mother. With her blonde undercut, faded jeans, and defiant t-shirts, the chip on her shoulder blended right into her look. She was skeptical of Lorna at first, until Harold explained Lorna's history with the Factory.
"She's got a house full of siblings and is looking for a home," Harold told Lorna privately. "This place is important to her. She nearly hit the roof when I told her I was selling."
Lorna knew that feeling deep within her. She took Betty aside the next day and brought her a pastry, one that Lorna had made at home.
"When I had nothing else, I had this place," she told Betty. "For years, it was all I had. Leaving it was the worst decision I ever made, because I didn't make it for myself, I made it because I thought that was what I was supposed to do."
Betty became her right-hand woman. She was frank with Lorna and they butted heads frequently, but they respected each other, and that was what counted. Betty helped her go through the employees and figure out who was worth keeping and who wasn't carrying their weight. Betty helped her interview new employees to fill the gaps, and it was Betty who found Vera Burr, a diamond in the rough.
Vera was living on her own in a house with four other girls, saving up for a trip abroad. She was brilliant and funny and smart, always looking glamorous in beautiful thrift shop finds. She turned out to be a whiz at the espresso machine and was able to charm most of their male customers into trying a pastry or muffin along with their coffee. She made Betty laugh all the time, and had a way of mitigating Betty's temper when someone set her off.
Next up was Gladys Witham. Gladys was initially hired to do half the office work--she was a university student from the well-bred family that supplied the few foodstuffs that Lorna didn't make herself from scratch. It was strongly suggested that hiring Gladys would save them some money on their orders, and Harold pressured Lorna to make the deal.
"They're old-fashioned rich lunatics," Harold told her. "The kid insists on working, so the compromise is they pick the place. Stick her in the office and be done with it."
Except Gladys didn't want to stay in the office. She was out on the floor by halfway through each shift, having Vera and Betty teach her how to make drinks, chatting with the customers, suggesting new flavor combinations. She would have been a pest, except she picked up on things quickly enough and was actually better at making smoothies and tea blends than Vera. Soon, the three girls came to a consensus and approached Lorna with a proposition--Vera would take over half the office work and Gladys would take over half of Vera's barista shifts.
Lorna approved, the Withams be damned.
They hired a few more part-timers, girls who were pleasant enough but not quite family. They were still looking to fill one more shift, though, and when Kate Andrews came in looking like she was dressed for church, timid as a mouse, something in Lorna was drawn to her. She remembered being young and uncertain and shy and looking for somewhere to belong.
She interviewed Kate on the spot and didn't bother running a background check. As Kate was filling out the new hire paperwork, Lorna wrote down her schedule.
"Betty will train you," she said. "She's worked for me for a long time and she trains all the new employees."
Kate nodded, eyes wide and huge, like she couldn't believe this was happening to her.
"Welcome to the Factory," Lorna said.
***
Kate's like a missing puzzle piece. Gladys, Vera, and Betty take to her immediately, and whenever Lorna looks around, there are three or four heads bent together whispering and laughing. It's good; they don't neglect their work and she doesn't mind if they chat in their downtime. She thinks Kate needs it--Gladys and Betty too, in their own ways. They need to meet other people. They need to widen their worlds. They need someone to lean on.
She watches the way Betty watches Kate and wonders if they don't need something more than that.
She's not pushy, though. Kate still jumps when someone startles her and some days she comes in looking haunted. Lorna hasn't asked--Kate will tell what she wants to tell in time, but Kate's not the first woman she's met with circles under her eyes who flinches when a man speaks too loudly.
When she does speak to Kate, it's not about any of that--not the way her eyes follow Betty around the room, not about the mornings she comes in looking like she hasn't slept in years, not about the scars on her back that show when she's reaching up to a high shelf and her shirt rides up in the back. She speaks to Kate when Kate starts singing.
It's quiet, at first, just a gentle tune when the shop is mostly empty and she's cleaning up. Lorna recognizes some of them as hymns, though she hasn't got to church herself in years. Kate has a beautiful voice, and she could be singing nonsense for all Lorna cares--the words don't matter as much as the sound, the beauty, the spirit.
Kate catches Lorna listening one day and her face goes as red as her hair.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Corbett!" she says.
"Don't worry about it," Lorna says. "I was just listening. It's lovely. As long as we don't have a line of customers out the door, I don't mind."
There's more Lorna wants to say, but she knows Kate well enough now to know when to retreat. She leaves Kate be and returns to the office and, sure enough, a few minutes later the singing starts again. Lorna smiles to herself, and goes back to working on the schedule for next week.
***
Summer is usually unremarkable at the Factory. Most of the college students return home for the break, so business is slower. Their seasonal staff say goodbye, and most summers, Lorna doesn't even bother hiring anyone else on.
This summer is a hot one. The girls come to the shop sticky from the heat and eager to start their shifts in the air conditioned shop. Vera's outfits begin to flirt with indecency and Gladys wears a rotating wardrobe of pastels and tennis whites that stay remarkably clean. Kate sings more and louder and only blushes a little when the other girls praise her for it. Sheila is home for the summer and texting furiously any chance she gets to some new beau she won't speak of. Bob stops sending her postcards from his sister's ranch. Lorna starts taking a dance class and the Factory seems to be at peace overall.
And then she catches Betty kissing a girl she's never seen before and it all threatens to go to hell.
"Lorna!" Betty says when Lorna literally bumps into her at the rec center, knocking her out of her amorous embrace. Her voice uncharacteristically high and her face flushed. Lorna hadn't thought Betty had the capacity to blush.
"Hello, Betty," Lorna says, fighting a blush of her own. They all know Betty prefers women--her messenger bag is covered in feminist patches and pins including more than one proclaiming her lesbian pride. But in the time Lorna's known her, Betty has never had a girlfriend, and with the way things were going with Kate...she's surprised.
"Please don't tell anyone," Betty says in a desperate whisper. "I just--"
Lorna thinks about how easy it was to fall into bed with Marco Moretti when Bob would barely look her in the eye after the announcement she was buying the Factory. She thinks she understands.
"I don't think anyone at work would mind," Lorna says carefully.
"You know that Ka--you know that's not true," Betty says.
The other girl looks awkward but not cowed. She's pretty, with curly dark hair and bright eyes, wearing a very neat tan shirt dress. She wouldn't think the girl was Betty's type, but then, Kate has the same spark to her eyes, so maybe Lorna's wrong.
"I won't say anything," Lorna promises her. "You ladies have a lovely evening."
"It was nice to meet you, ma'am," the girl says.
Lorna knows already that this is the end of her peaceful summer.
***
It takes the other girls at the shop nearly two weeks to figure out that Betty's seeing someone, and by that time, the short affair is over. Betty, teary on the day of her girlfriend's departure, hides in Lorna's office and explains that Teresa was only in town for a month-long summer camp program, that she was already on her way back home, that they agreed it would be silly to try and hold together a long distance relationship. Lorna comforts her, but notices the tension in the rest of her staff, the way they look at Betty peculiarly, like she's betrayed them and they've forgiven, but not forgotten.
Kate won't look at her at all.
It's Gladys who tries to reclaim the peace. One morning, she catches Kate singing sadly to herself and by lunch time, she's created a flyer for an open mic night.
"It will bring in a lot of customers!" Gladys insists. "You know how slow it's been."
"It's just the summer, it's normal," Betty mutters, but that's the only protest she can muster.
"I think it's a great idea," Vera says. "I can do stand-up! And Kate--you can sing."
Lorna watches panic drain the color out of Kate's features in a way it hasn't since she first came to the Factory.
"Oh," Kate says faintly, "I don't know."
"Come on, Kate," Gladys says. "What have you got to lose?"
Kate looks over at Betty just briefly, but says nothing. Betty doesn't look back.
***
Everyone's work remains top-notch, so Lorna knows she should just let it go. They're not children--they'll work it out on their own.
Except, well...the girls are like sisters, really, those four. And Lorna can't help but feel like their mother. She wants them to be happy. She can see them making strides towards it, little by little. Gladys has broken her engagement to boring WASP-y James and has started spending time with the boy whose parents own the bookstore on the corner, Kai Lo. Vera's friendship with Marco Moretti is beginning to veer towards something more. Kate was finally coming out of her shell and Betty was finally learning to let go of her anger, and she wants them to succeed at that.
She wants them all to succeed, and not just because the Factory is at its best when all the girls are happy.
In the days leading up to the open mic, she finds Kate crying in the back three times. It's breaking her heart. She has to do something.
The two of them are closing together the week before the big day. Kate is sweeping while Lorna boxes up the day old leftovers that they're required to dispose of. Such a waste--which is why Lorna brings them over to the local women's shelters each night instead. She can tell there's something on Kate's mind, weighing her down with each drag of the broom.
"I'm not sure I can do the open mic night," Kate says finally, her words quiet in the empty shop.
Lorna nods. Her hands never falter as she ties up the pastry boxes. "I'm sure it will be plenty successful anyway," she says after a few minutes. "Quite a shame that we'll miss hearing you sing. The girls weren't the only ones looking forward to it."
"Oh." Kate flushes. "I hate to let you down, Mrs. Corbett. If I need to, I can--"
Lorna could smack herself. Of all the times to be careless with her words.
"No, no, you don't need to do anything," she insists. She gives Kate a soft look, barely resisting the urge to hold Kate in her arms. She needs the comfort, Lorna can tell. This is eating her up inside. "That was me trying to tell you that I love the sound of your voice. I put it in a silly way."
Kate stares at her for a long moment, her eyes filling further with tears. All at once, she drops the broom and chokes on a sob.
It's just a few steps for Lorna to embrace Kate tightly, stroke her back and her hair and murmur soothing nonsense as Kate cries against her.
"If you just talk to the girls, they'll understand," she says. "You see if they don't."
"But Gladys--they did this all for me, I know it!" Kate sobs. "I can't let them down, but I can't--I can't--everything is all wrong!"
"There's nothing wrong that can't be fixed," Lorna tells her firmly, still holding on to her. "These girls love you, Kate. You're like family to them, to us."
"Betty--" Kate tries to say, lifting her head, but her lower lip wobbles and another sob escapes.
"Betty has her own issues to deal with, Kate," Lorna says, as kindly as she can. "And I think the best thing for both of you is to do a little searching and figure yourselves out and see where it takes you."
"I don't know who I am," Kate says. "I'm not Kate Andrews--I thought I could be Kate Andrews but I can't, I'll always be Marion, and Betty--Betty needs Kate. But I can't--"
Lorna's not sure what nonsense Kate is speaking, so she goes back to smoothing Kate's hair and murmuring nonsense until her tears finally begin to taper off.
When Kate pulls back, Lorna holds her firmly by the shoulders.
"Don't worry about Betty," she says. "Figure out what Kate needs. You're no use to anyone--Betty, Gladys, Vera, me--until you get that settled. That's what's most important, okay?"
Kate nods slowly, her eyes ringed in red.
"Good girl," Lorna says. "Now, go on home. I can finish up here."
Kate quietly gets her bag and heads towards the door. She pauses as she pulls it open and turns back to Lorna, who's returned to filling the pastry boxes.
"Thanks, Mrs. Corbett," she says softly, her voice still hoarse from crying.
"Anytime, Kate," Lorna says, and hopes, as Kate leaves the shop, that she's helped.
***
Kate is quiet at work the next day and even quieter the day after. The other girls notice and comment to Lorna, but there's nothing Lorna can do. There's nothing she wants to do--Kate is figuring herself out, now. It's on her.
She does take Kate's name off of the open mic list, even though she has to fight Gladys and Vera both on it once they see. She doesn't fill it with anyone else, though. She has a feeling in her gut that things are going to work out.
***
Friday evening, just an hour before Open Mic Night starts, Lorna gets a phone call in the office.
"Mrs. Corbett?" Kate asks. Lorna can hear her nerves over the phone line.
"Hello, Kate," she says. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"If it's not too much trouble--I know you already took me off the list--I mean, it's okay if I can't, I understand, but--"
"Of course I can put you back on the list for open mic," Lorna says. "You're on at the top of the second hour, so hurry over!"
"Thank you, Mrs. Corbett!" Kate says breathlessly. "I'll be right there!"
She returns to the bustling exterior of the Factory. She finds Gladys at the counter, making drinks with Betty while Vera works the register. Gladys, after cheerfully announcing that she's without talent, is playing the role of the stage manager for the event.
"Gladys, please put Kate Andrews back into the 9pm open mic slot," she says, forcing herself to keep a straight face as Gladys and Vera both cheer and then immediately start talking at once. Betty's reaction is more cautious, reserved, and Lorna's heart aches for her, but Kate needs to please herself before she worries about pleasing anyone else. In the years since she's returned to the Factory, Lorna thinks that's maybe the most important lesson she's learned.
Kate arrives at the Factory not long after the start of the event. Her hair and make-up and outfit look beautiful, and she's accompanied by an older woman who must be her mother and a young black man carrying a folder of sheet music. Gladys and Vera rush to embrace her, but Betty holds back. When Lorna approaches her for a hug, Kate clings to her, holding on tightly.
"Did you figure everything out?" Lorna asks her.
She doesn't miss the way that Kate looks over at Betty.
"I did," Kate says. Her smile looks genuine for the first time in weeks.
"Good," Lorna says. "Now sit down and enjoy the show. You're up soon enough."
***
The open mic is about what Lorna expected when Gladys first announced it. A handful of local teens read angsty poetry. Three young men with unruly hair play songs on acoustic guitars. Reggie, one of her part-timers, performs some slam poetry that gets the room up and cheering. Vera's jokes go over well, and a boy that comes in regularly plays a lovely saxophone solo, and then Kate's friend is positioning himself behind the keyboard and Marco is announcing Kate's name.
She walks to the stage on shaky legs. Lorna's heart aches for her.
"My name is Kate Andrews," she says, her voice trembling only a little. "And tonight I'll be performing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow.'"
The young man at the keyboard starts to play and then Kate starts to sing. The room is immediately silent, transfixed by Kate's voice, staring at her unblinkingly.
Kate is staring back at just one person, her heart on her sleeve, and Lorna couldn't be prouder, even at the end when the room erupts into riotous applause, capped by a loud, high whistle that could come from no one but Betty.
***
At the end of the evening, Kate is mobbed by everyone in the room. Lorna can see her starting to panic, overwhelmed and unable to make her way through the crowd to the one person she wants to see. Lorna has many more years of making her way through a world that's sometimes against her, so she has no problem grabbing Betty's wrist and elbowing through the throngs to put her hand on Kate's shoulder, anchoring her back into the moment.
"Betty," she says, "why don't you show Kate the new espresso machine we got today? I think it's in the back. Take your time. Maybe Kate wants a cup of tea?"
Betty looks at her like she's grown another head, but after their years together, Betty trusts her. She dutifully takes Kate's hand and leads her through the room and into the back. Once the door closes behind them, Lorna expects she won't see either of them for quite a long time.
Good for them.
There's plenty to do out in the shop. Vera and Reggie could use some help at the register and already Gladys is surrounded by a crowd of people wanting to sign up for the next open mic night. The bake case needs to be restocked and Lorna would like to find Mrs. Andrews and give her a warm hug.
Tonight will be busy. But, tomorrow is her day off. Perhaps she'll spend the morning at her lawyer's office. Bob's made his choice, even if he won't say it. It's time for her to make one of her own. If Kate Andrews can do it, so can she.