Work Text:
~GC~
A Thursday evening,
She’d gotten used to trekking the four floors of stairs up to her small apartment in Manhattan, even in the rather tall heels she had to don for work. Between the commute to Vivienne’s office and the stairs, Greta’s calves had become stronger and shapelier, she was informed, for which she knew she’d be grateful when the season started back up in three weeks. But she no longer stopped on the landing with a hand gripping the worn banister to take a moment like she used to. Now it wasn’t the cold loneliness of her small space that greeted her, but a small catcher that finally arrived a week ago.
Greta fiddled with the few bundled keys in her purse, taking a deep breath and feeling the tension she carried to work leave her shoulders. Coming home to Carson was like a balm to the strain of performing all day.
The months without Carson during the off-season had been long and more miserable than she expected. Part of it was irrationally hoping Carson would change her mind follow her to New York. But she hadn’t and Greta was quickly confronted with the realities of living independently. She and Jo had been moving around together since they were teens; it took a fair bit of introspection and honesty with herself, but Greta understood Jo’s decision to leave and eventually stay in South Bend. They both needed to learn to be without each other. Now she had a place to call home, a stable job, and friends at work. It took time, but Greta managed to get comfortable with being settled.
The other part was that she missed Carson. Awfully. When they parted on the Porch in Rockford, they had made no plans or promises except to return the next year. She could admit that her thoughts were tumultuous, especially in the days after. What would Carson do about her marriage? Would she even get divorced? Where would she go? Was she safe? Would she write? Would they pick up their… whatever it was, next season?
In hindsight she was glad that this change in her life gave her pause to reflect on how she thought of love and relationships too. She’d reconciled on the long train ride out of Illinois that she had fallen in love with Carson. She had been convincing herself all summer of otherwise; it was easy to have a fling with a married woman if you knew you’d be leaving town at short notice. But of course, she’d stayed in Rockford long enough to fall and fall hard. Naturally, she tried to soothe her heartache by finding hidden bars and allowing the flirtations of curious married women, especially in the beginning of her time here. But it just… it didn’t satisfy her anymore. The lusty hunger in a random woman’s eye was nothing compared to the look of absolute adoration from a small brunette that Greta had gotten used to.
So, she didn’t have any flings in New York. She’d been momentarily frustrated that her mind and body was no longer willing to do what it knew so well. But the more she forced it, the more miserable she felt. After a particularly intense meltdown that she’ll never tell a soul about, Greta committed to the idea of her and Carson, and made her miss her so much more. That was until about a month in when a letter with familiar handwriting arrived in the mail.
As it turned out, Carson did end up returning to Idaho for a short period to secure her divorce. Greta had been shocked, even panicked, to learn that Charlie saw them on the porch. But Carson had kept up the correspondence, keeping Greta in the loop, although sparing her the messier details of her separation. She had assured Greta that she hadn’t left until she was convinced that she had Charlie’s silence. From what Greta could gather, the divorce came on the grounds of abandonment, Charlie had given Carson her League wages and promised her he wouldn’t say anything because he still cared about her happiness. Greta had to put a fair bit of faith in their long history. It was a difficult pill to swallow, but she trusted Carson.
From then on, their correspondence continued for the rest of the off-season. Carson had taken to the road and wandered across the country either on trains, buses or, at one point, in her own car. It had been bittersweet to hear of her travels, but the letters helped Greta feel a bit more grounded. She had to admit, the stories Carson shared of queer couples and safer spaces she’d encountered in her travels fed the hope in Greta. In due course, Carson brought their relationship up and Greta quickly responded with her wishes to continue as a couple. Carson never explicitly said it, but Greta knew their relationship factored heavily into her divorce from Charlie. Greta never felt guilted into their relationship because of Carson’s sacrifice, but she did acknowledge the momentous decision.
She promised Carson she would stay in New York until the new season started or Carson drifted her way. Greta made a very subtle comment about being lonely, with the hope that Carson might interpret that as a sign of her newfound monogamy. Greta had had all those experiences and had chosen Carson… exclusively. It did, however, take her a few days and plenty of scrunched up drafts to write and tell her that she should go out and have some of those experience herself. While Greta in part loathed the idea of Carson with other people… other women… she knew there was a lot to be gained from it. It would help Carson find her identity. It would teach her the rules and realities of a queer life, but more importantly, if Carson had some fun with other women and still chose her, she would never have to wonder if Carson felt like she was missing something. The wait for that response felt painfully long.
‘…I will take the opportunity to learn a thing or two, but I’m not looking for love. I know where to find it in New York.’
Carson continued making her way across the country and her final letter informed Greta that she was coming to stay. God, that was an incredible day.
Carson had assured her when she arrived that while she had kissed and danced and, as she called it ‘fooled around’ with a small handful of girls in her travels, she was happy to be back in Greta’s arms. She had made it pretty clear on her first day in New York that she wanted something as permanent as possible with Greta. After spending months becoming more acquainted and at peace with herself, Greta was very ready to accept the offer. She hadn’t found the courage or time to tell Carson that she loved her, at least to say the actual words, but she now knew with absolute certainty that she did.
Greta unlocked the door to their home… well, technically it was very much hers, but Carson was living here, and it was nice to think of it as theirs. There wasn’t much point in Carson finding work for such a short period and she had brought some savings with her, so she contributed financially and with the upkeep.
“Carson?” She called, shutting and locking the door behind her. Often Carson would make herself scarce during the day to allay suspicion, but she was usually here by the time Greta got back.
A head popped out of their bedroom, a smile quickly spreading across her lover’s face. Instantly the room felt warmer.
“Hey there,” Carson grinned, emerging from the room to help Greta shed her snow-dampened overcoat. “How was work?”
“Long, but good as always. Got a meeting with Vivienne tomorrow to discuss where she wants me after next season.” She turned and touched her fingertips to Carson’s cheek, taking more than a moment to kiss her.
God, she loved the domesticity they had created.
She also loved the confidence that Carson seemed to have found. Sure, Greta had the pleasure of watching her coach grow over the season, but Carson had been living alone for months and the self-assurance really showed now. She seemed a bit more wholly herself, not with bits of Charlie or Meg or… even Greta herself overshadowing her personality. She was just more. Greta also loved the minor tweaks to Carson’s appearance as well. Her hair was a little shorter than Greta cut it last year, and she still wore dresses when going out, but at home she opted for pants and tucked in shirts. Her old wedding ring was gathering dust on the corner of the nightstand on her side of the bed, used only when they needed a little more security going out. Greta already had plans to buy her a new one. Sometimes Carson would wear a baseball cap inside their apartment, her hair all tucked up underneath. Her soft butch little girlfriend. She loved it.
Carson patted her hip gently, “There’s some mail for you on the table. I managed to find a small roast beef for dinner.” Carson headed for the kitchen and began busying herself with vegetables, “hopefully I don’t ruin it!”
“Oh! Considering how hard beef is to find these days, we’ll have to eat it regardless,” Greta teased, removing her scarf with one hand and sifting through the three envelopes on the table with the other. A bill, a magazine and… a letter?
Something in her chest dropped and she didn’t immediately know why. But it came to her quickly when she recognized the specific looping on the two L’s in her last name.
The breath left her body quickly and she gripped the chair at the table, momentarily dizzy.
Dana.
She stared at it for a moment and slowly sat down in the chair.
It had been so long… what? Fifteen years? She never knew what had happened to Dana. She didn’t even know if she was alive. Well, I guess, she knew that one now.
A loud bang in the kitchen and an immediate “Nothing broke!” reminded Greta that Carson was still there. It was enough to get her mind going again.
Greta shifted her eyes between the entry to the kitchen and the letter. She would tell Carson, of course. She didn’t want secrets between them. Not big ones. Many late night phone calls with Joey and contemplating on the balcony with a cigarette had made Greta realise that the future with Carson she desperately wanted wasn’t just about learning to embrace physical permanency, but also to start opening up and letting Carson in. Even with the risk of being hurt. She could never thank Joey enough for helping her work through that one.
She took a steadying breath, nodded to herself and ran her finger under the lid of the envelope. She was a big girl now; she would deal with this.
Dear Greta,
I’m sorry there was no better way to announce myself. I read in the papers that you were playing professional baseball. I knew you were destined for grand things.
I confess, it did open an avenue to reach out to you. Your league seemed happy to facilitate some fan mail.
I’ve been keeping an eye and an ear out for you and Jo for a while. I didn’t know whether I should reach out. I’m sure you’ve got a wonderful life now and I have no intention of disrupting that.
I just wanted to be sure you were alright, and to assure you that for the most part, I am too. I always wondered if you made it out that night okay.
Do you remember the park would ice skate in when we snuck out? I plan to visit there this Friday. You are welcome to join me. If only to say hello and goodbye. And if you choose not to meet me, or reply, I completely understand.
Always, your friend,
Dana Smith.
Despite her new determination, Greta’s hands were shaking and she felt the pressure of tears in her eyes. She was hit with a wave of emotions all at once.
Dana was alive, and seemingly well. She felt a swell of aching love in her chest, but it felt very distant and old. She’d worked so hard, especially in the last year, Hell, the last few months specifically, to work through the trauma of losing Dana. She had a home now, and someone she loved trying not to burn a roast in their kitchen.
“Greta?”
Or apparently no longer in the kitchen.
Her very breath shook, and she looked up Carson, who still stood at the doorway with a hand on the frame. She looked more worried than Greta ever remembered seeing her.
She fought the old instinct to withdraw; it felt like some kind of test. She’d held Dana in such a protected space, believing it was her only experience of real love… until Carson. Carson with her gentle words and patience and unwavering love. What she had had with Dana, it was young and intense and burned brightly; they barely knew themselves. But what she had with Carson, well… they came into it now with determination and shared experiences, knowing they wanted something for life.
Greta relaxed, just a little, and tilted her hear to beckon Carson to her.
“Are you alright?” Carson asked quietly as she approached. She touched a hand to Greta’s shoulder as she sat down next to her.
“I um… I got a letter.” Greta sniffled, biting her bottom lip. No secrets. “From Dana.”
She ran her nail along the seam where the letter was folded. Carson’s face went through a series of expressions very quickly. Surprise. Concern. Confusion. Back to concern.
Greta tilted her hand, offering the letter to Carson. She took it but didn’t open it.
“Are you sure?” Carson’s brow steepled, surely wondering if it was her business. Greta decided it was.
“Yeah. I want you to know. Although I’m going to need a glass of wine I think.” Greta nodded, rising from the table. She didn’t want to sit there while Carson read it. She entered the small kitchen, taking a bottle of wine of the rack and pair of glasses. She stopped, bending down to look in the oven at the roast Carson was so proud of. She smiled softly; dinner looked good. Yes. She could do this.
When she returned to the living room, Carson quickly glanced at her and put the letter down in front of Greta’s chair. She tapped her nails on the worn surface while Greta poured two glasses of wine. Carson didn’t reach for hers once set down.
“Wow…” Carson ventured cautiously. Greta sat down, flipping the letter over so wouldn’t have to read it again; she sensed Carson’s hesitation. They’d only discussed Dana once; however, it ended up with a very good conversation at the time.
Greta sighed, sipping the red. Just because she was determined to not allow Dana’s reappearance to harm the strong foundations she and Carson were building; didn’t mean she wasn’t experiencing a myriad of emotions right now.
“Yeah. That was unexpected.”
“How do you feel?” Carson asked, starting to nervously picking at her thumbnail.
“Honestly, I don’t know. It brings back a lot of feelings. I did always wonder if she was okay.” Another slow sip of wine. “It feels strange though,” she looked down her glass before putting it on the table, gently twisting the stem. “… to have that question I’ve been carrying for so many years answered.”
Carson nodded, keeping her eyes downcast. “Are you going to go tomorrow?” she asked quietly. Greta could hear both the worry and attempt to hide said worry.
Well, now there was a question.
“I think so…” Greta finally snuck a glance at Carson, trying to gauge her mood. She could see Carson was putting on a brave face, trying to smile in encouragement. “… I guess then I can maybe find out what happened that night. Say the things I’ve wanted to say to her. Work out where we stand. Nobody really forgets their first love, do they?”
Finally, Carson took a good mouthful of wine.
“You should go then.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Greta frowned slightly, twirling Dana’s ring on her pinky. “You’re worried?”
Carson really began fidgeting with her hands then. “I’m feeling a lot of things right now. I wouldn’t say worried is the word I’d use though.” She reached out, placing a hand on hers. “You gotta go see her. She’s a big part of your life, I get that. You didn’t make it hard on me when I had to go back with Charlie to sort things out with him, so I’m not gonna do that for you and Dana either. It’s really up to you, what you do. I’ll respect that.”
Greta flipped her hand over and tangled her fingers with Carson’s. They shared a silence until Greta nodded, tipped back the last of her wine and have her hand a squeeze.
“Alright. I’m gonna go see her tomorrow.” She rose from the table. “But tonight is for us. We should probably get dinner before it overcooks.”
Dinner was a quiet affair. Neither brought up Dana, but their conversation was far more sedate than usual. Greta suspected Carson was giving her some form of space to think, which she appreciated. She did have a lot to think about. Carson chose to read when they went to bed, still there but occupied so Greta didn’t feel guilty about rolling away from her and trying to sleep. She didn’t call Carson out for not turning the pages often.
There is a very small part of her that worried about what kind of feelings would come up when she saw Dana tomorrow. If this had happened a year ago, before she went to Chicago, Greta could imagine she’d fall at Dana’s feet and desperately try to rekindle their romance. Such was the hold the memory of a seventeen-year-old girl had held over her. While she had a lot of confidence in her new relationship, she knew that she could also make poor decisions as well. It was one thing to fight the world to protect her love, it was another to have to contend with such a big part of her own past. It made her chest tighten anxiously and pull her blanket tighter around her shoulders.
~
Friday evening came quickly and they hadn’t spoken about Dana until Carson was helping her put her coat on at the door. Greta was well aware that Carson… well, she wasn’t walking on egg-shells all day per se, but she was oddly calm. Maybe even resigned? She wasn’t sure. It may make her a coward, but Greta didn’t want to draw attention to it either. Not yet.
There was a strained silence as Greta put on her gloves and Carson adjusted her scarf, her hands trailing down her lapel before stopping on her chest. Carson kept her eyes on her hands. Greta looked at her girlfriend. Really looked at her.
She tipped a finger under Carson’s chin until it lifted; she wasn’t teary, but her brow was slightly furrowed.
“I won’t be long. I promise.” Greta smiled softly.
There.
The loosening of Carson’s shoulders, the tiny nod of her head. She just wanted assurance. There was a small part of Greta that wished Carson would just implicitly trust her, but she knew they were both still healing and frankly, Greta had all but begged Carson for some kind of declaration the morning after the bar raid, which in hindsight was unfair to ask for. Really, she couldn’t blame Carson for her fears, and Greta really did want to want to soothe her, but she had to be sure in herself first.
“I’ll be back soon, chickadee.” Greta tried to smile before escaping out the door.
The walk to the park was long, but it gave Greta plenty of time to think. The thin layer of snow of the aging cement crunched quietly beneath her. She stopped when the ice rink came into view; it hadn’t changed much since she was a teen and she knew she’d been avoiding this place since she’d returned to the city. Her eyes passed across the serene scene before her, settling on a woman sitting on a bench by herself.
Dana.
She licked her bottom lip and took a moment to breathe, pulling out her cigarettes and matches from her pocket. As expected, she was hit with a wave of something heavy in her chest. She was anxious, that was certain. But after a minute and a few pulls from her cigarette, the feeling dissipated. Finally, she felt strong enough to head over.
Dana turned and looked at her as Greta silently sat down on the opposite side of the bench.
She looked different. Aged, of course. And her hair was darker. There was a sullenness to her features, and she seemed thinner. Her clothes were all black and Greta peaked a thick beaded necklace near her neck. Greta sighed deeply, looking out over the ice rink. Where does one begin?
“I guess asking how you are is a loaded question,” Greta began, taking a long drag and looking to Dana.
“Still alive. So there is that.” The corner of Dana's mouth lifted wistfully. That hurt a little.
“I am sorry,” Greta offered, turning to sit sideways on the bench. “I wished it was me for such a long time.”
“Margaret, don’t.” Dana was still smiling peacefully. It had been so long since she’d heard her full name, it didn’t sound right. There was a strange vacancy in her eyes that Greta didn’t remember. “I won’t tell you what it was like, but I wouldn’t wish that upon you. Besides… regret doesn’t change what happened.”
That did little to ease Greta’s guilt.
“You’re finally playing baseball, I see.”
“Yeah, Jo and I went to tryouts in Chicago and got on. I love most of it. Sliding in skirts is pretty awful.”
“How is Jo?”
“She’d doing well. Plays for South Bend and is living there. We travelled around a lot together until this year. She’s been a rock for me since… that night.”
“I remember.” An awkward pause fell between them.
“I’ve been carrying that night with me ever since, you know. And I don’t think I really moved on from it until… well, recently.” She laid her cigarette on the bench, not noticing it roll off onto the ground, and began to remove her glove. “I still have your ring; I kept it the whole time.”
Dana didn’t say anything as Greta pulled off the ring and held it out in her palm. She took it from her hand, bringing it up to her face and turning it. For just a second, Greta saw that youthful, happy shine in Dana’s eyes.
“We sure had something special, didn’t we?”
“We did.”
Dana offered the ring back, although Greta wasn’t sure she wanted it. The ring didn’t weigh so much now. She didn’t need it like a shield anymore.
“I didn’t know if you wanted it back…”
“I don’t think I do. I made my peace with the direction our lives took a long time ago.” Dana put the ring on the bench between them. “I live in a convent; I spend my days with God. I’m happy there. Really.”
Greta couldn’t help the weak chuckle as she shook her head, looking down at her lap. A damn convent…
Dana paused, pressing her pinched fingers to the bridge of her nose for a moment, then continued, “I do remember what it was to be loved by you though,” Greta looked up at this, waiting for her to go on, “and I remember how much love you had to give.”
Greta thought of Carson and felt herself smile warmly.
“So what now?”
Finally Dana seemed to move, readjusting herself in her seat. “We go our separate ways. I can only imagine how awful it was for you after that night. I didn’t want it hanging over your head forever.”
Greta had been hesitant to get too close to Dana but couldn’t stop herself reaching over and wrapping her in a loose hug. Dana took a second, but lifted one arm to return the embrace. It felt odd, not like how she remembered. Dana felt like a stranger now.
“I did love you first, you know?” She mumbled into Dana’s hair and felt her nod.
“I know. Nothing will change that.” They held each other, and Greta felt something deep inside her ease. “Margaret?”
Greta pulled back but held onto Dana’s elbow. “What?”
“You said you hadn’t moved on until recently?”
Greta couldn’t stop the shy grin that took her. She only nodded.
“Well then I’m happy for you. Truly.” Dana gave her elbows a squeeze and pulled away to stand up. Greta did the same, the ring still sitting on the bench, slowly disappearing until the flecks of snow. “I really do wish you well.”
The goodbye didn’t hurt like Greta expected it to.
“Yeah… you too.”
Neither of them took the ring as they walked away.
~
Their apartment was dark and quiet when Greta returned. It was the walk that had taken most time, but she hadn’t been gone long. Admittedly she spent a good portion of her commute fiddling with her now vacant pinkie finger through the cloth of her glove. She had looked down at it before she walked away, contemplated grabbing it out of habit. But she didn’t need it anymore. It felt a little freeing.
She shrugged off her coat and scarf in the dark, toed off her shoes and dropped her gloves on the table. Fortunately it was a full moon out so there was some ambient light to guide her from the door to their bedroom. She heard a rustling as she pushed the ajar door open, catching Carson sitting up in their bed, swinging her shorter legs over the edge, her toes only just touching the ground.
“Hey there,” Greta whispered, pausing at the door. The moonlight filtered through the window above the bedhead, and she could see a tiredness on Carson’s face and the slope of her shoulders that was born more for stress than sleep. She could fix that.
“Hi,” Carson smiled tenderly, clearly glad to see her. “How did it go?”
Greta didn’t say anything as she pushed her shoulder off the door frame and padded over to her girlfriend. Her partner. Someone she’d love to pretend could be her wife one day. Her hands found Carson’s knee’s, pushing them apart as she knelt on the ground between her feet. Carson was quick to take her elbows, rubbing up and down her biceps.
“Good. Said hello and said goodbye. Didn’t run away with her. I dont think I'll be hearing from her again and I'm fine with that. Really.” She teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Get this: she lives in a convent now.”
“You’re joking.”
“I think you know I would never joke about convents.”
Carson let out a huffed, weak laugh, shaking her head. “I didn’t really think you would... run away with her.”
“No, but it’s nice when the person you love chooses you, though.”
At this, Carson’s hands stilled for a moment before trialing down her arms to gently take her hands. They had written similar sentiments in their letters, but saying it to one another felt a little more real.
“Yeah?” She asked so quietly, Greta almost didn’t hear it. She adjusted her hands, pushing both pinky fingers into Carson’s fingers, waiting until she felt the deliberate caress over the digits. Until she knew Carson understood. She had finally put Dana to rest.
“Yeah. All the love I have in me is just for you.”
Carson just tilted her head forward to rest against hers.
“I love you too.”
~ GC ~