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A stripe of light passes through the window in the defendant's lobby, painting long patterns of sunshine over the room, spilling across the leather sofa. It illuminates where Kate and Ray's hands are joined together. He rubs soothing circles into her knuckles.
There's a weight to the moment, a pressing feeling. To Kate, this is just the tension of an oncoming trial, the same way she remembers it eighteen years ago. But Ray has been at the helm of countless trials in the decades since, and none have felt quite this heavy.
“Remember what I told you, okay?” he says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, then softly stroking her cheek. “Just tell it to them the way we rehearsed it, and I'll do the rest.”
“Of course.” She smiles, although her voice wavers. “I have plenty of practice. And I trust you.”
“Good. You'll knock it out of the park, Katie. You'll — we'll be okay. We'll make it through this.” His smile is warm yet sad, but he glances away from her, and a hint of guilt clouds his expression.
She cups his cheek with her free hand and gently directs his gaze back towards her. She takes in that guilty look, and frowns.
“Hey, Katie…” He takes a deep breath, and leans into her touch. “I know you said you weren't ready yet, but… I asked Jeff to come.”
She turns away slightly and wipes at her misty eyes. “I didn't want him to see me like this,” she whispers, staying quiet to keep her voice from cracking.
“I know, I know.” He speaks softly, tenderly. When he puts his arms around her, she leans into him, a stray tear dripping onto his collar. “But this could be the last time you'll get to see him in person for a while. You'd regret it if you didn't.”
It's not the same, seeing a person from behind the glass of the visitation room, but he doesn't need to tell her that.
She sniffles, but no more tears fall. She just trembles and leans her weight into him for a silent moment.
Then there's a knock at the door. She immediately sits up straight, but still holds tightly onto his shoulders. The guard places a hand tentatively on the door and looks to them both for an answer.
Ray straightens out her crooked headband and wipes the wet trail from her cheekbone. “It's your call, Kate.”
Her breath feels stuck in her throat, but she forces herself to release it. Jeff is right outside that door, waiting for her, and she can almost see him standing there. She knows that Ray would send him away if she asked, but she can't bear to imagine the way her father's face would look. Neither can she imagine him sending her away before his trial, instead of hugging her close and crying with her, holding her until the courtroom staff had to tear them apart.
She raises her head and nods to the guard.
Her confidence falters when Ray stands, pulling away from her. She reaches out to him, but hesitates before she can make contact. He closes the distance, and gives her hand one last squeeze, before letting go.
“I'll be right back, okay? Just around the corner,” he says with an attempt at a grin. He can't seem to summon his usual carefree energy, seeing her teary eyes sparkle in the sunlight. “Love you, Katie.”
Ray slips away as Jeff enters.
With her arrest lining up with his release, this is the first time she's seen him face to face, with nothing between them, in eighteen whole years.
There's no way to name all the emotions that swirl in her chest when she sees him. Joy. Relief. Melancholy. It's a strange and contradictory deluge.
He looks better than he did in prison, but so much older than before he was convicted. The passing time is etched into the wrinkles on his face, dyed in the gray whorls of his hair. They had seen each other every day, the cycle only breaking when she was arrested, but the gradual changes seem sudden, now. It seems so real.
They study each other wordlessly. She wishes she could memorize this version of him —the bright-eyed him, not the tired one under the sickly lights of the prison — and replace the last eighteen years with this moment, overwrite all the tears with his smile.
Jeff embraces her, sudden and forceful and full of love, and Kate squeaks in surprise.
He inhales shakily when she rests her chin on his shoulder. She was so much smaller the last time he held her.
A few seconds pass, too short but endlessly long, and they part.
He takes her hands in his. It reminds him of when they used to dance, so he follows the impulse on a whim, twirling her around the room — her steps clumsy in surprise, his equally so from lack of practice — before they land, dizzy, on the couch.
She's smiling. She links their arms together, and calls out, “Jiffy,” just like she used to when she was little. “I missed you.”
“Sweets,” he responds in turn, pinching her cheek as she blushes at the old nickname. “I missed you too.” He tries to stay strong, but his voice trembles and his smile wavers. It tugs at her heartstrings. “How much longer will it be? Until I really get to see you again, outside the courtroom or the prison.”
She sighs. “Ray still has to work out the details of the plea deal. I’m not sure.” A guilty look flickers on her face. “I know what I did. I have to face the consequences.”
“I’ll wait. Even if it's another eighteen years, I'll wait.” He's entirely serious, his stare solemnly determined, while she bites back a laugh and shakes her head.
“It won't be. Can't be! Ray will make sure of that.”
“Well, he certainly worked wonders with me.” He smiles again. “I'm glad you have him… and not just as your lawyer.”
“Me too. He's a lifesaver,” she says, quiet and bashful.
He holds her hand with their arms still intertwined. It's not quite as small as he remembers, but still just as warm and soft. He interlaces their fingers, thinking about how tiny hers used to be. How he could envelop both of her hands in one of his, easily.
“You grew a lot while I was away. And… you accomplished so much.”
She shyly glows under the praise, like she always does. She leans into him. “You taught me well.”
Jeff's relief is palpable as he relaxes against her. He knew she was strong enough to make it on her own, but that never stopped him from worrying
Still, there's something on his mind, making a pit in his stomach right in the middle of the joy. He puts his hand on Kate's arm, and she looks up at him.
“Can you tell me something, honestly?”
She hesitates.
He knows she's always been cagey, a people pleaser hiding behind a constant smile. He used to know her so well, but with their years apart and her acting experience, he wonders if he could still read her like he used to.
She nods, and replies, “Anything,” and he can't tell if that's really true.
“Putting aside any concerns about me and my legacy…” He chooses his words and his tone carefully, knowing that this is already a loaded statement. “All that you've done with your life — was any of it just for you? Did you enjoy it? Truly?”
Her tension breaks, and she sighs. “Yes,” she says, honest and aching, like she had been waiting to admit it for a while. “The acting and singing and dancing, the baking, the decorating and hostessing, even running the gallery — I loved it all. I lived a dream.”
He holds onto her hand tightly, only loosening his grip in fear of hurting her. That's all he needed to hear. That she finally lived for herself, and not for him.
He sighs. “I hate that you had to give it away because of me.”
She shakes her head, a few tears slipping out. “That's not true — I couldn't have done it without you. Everything, I owe it all to you. I don't regret any of it, I — I just wish you could've been here with me.” Her voice is strained and reedy.
She goes to wipe her face, but he gently pushes her hand away and does it himself.
“Soon. It won't be long until we can be together again.”
He smiles, but she just gazes at the floor, watery eyes threatening to spill over again.
“But it won't be the same as before. I just… want to go back. To then,” she says, pouting childishly.
“I do too, but we can't.” He lets go of her hand and puts an arm around her shoulders instead. “It'll be different than before. But it'll be okay, as long as I've got you, Sweets. Right?”
She nods and sniffles. “Okay,” she says with a crackly voice, resigned. Then more determined, “It's okay. We've got each other.”
“Yeah.” He rubs her back. “Just take care of yourself while I'm gone, alright? Or I'll have to get myself locked up with you.”
She laughs.
He freezes. He hasn't heard that laugh in forever.
“No, no,” she says, wiping away the last of the tears while still giggling. “You can't!”
He chuckles, and it sounds odd, laughing for the first time in years. It feels strange in his chest.
“I would.”
“...I know.” She bumps her shoulder against his, grinning. “But don't, seriously.”
“Alright, alright.”
She finally looks happy, truly happy, gazing up at him. Her cheeks are still blotchy red and damp, but she's beaming. He can see the weight taken off her shoulders.
He hates the idea of her smile being locked away, but he knows she would do it over and over again just for him, the way he would do the same thing for her.
All he can hope is that once she gets out, they can leave everything behind — the lost time, the heaviness, the cycle of self-sacrifice — and just be father and daughter again.