Beyond the Family Ties

END

Weeks passed by, and February turned into March, Becky's birthday came and went, and winter faded into spring with a burst of flowers and a turn in the weather. With summer on the horizon, the dark, painful memories of the last year were pushed to the back of everyone's minds, and aside from the pale scars on the ribs of Freen and Laurel, no one would have even known what had happened. Everything felt perfect, so perfectly normal that Becky found herself becoming a new person once more, not quite the distrustful, cynical teenage mother who'd been brought home like a stray cat, and not quite the anxious, mother who'd learned how to love and trust over the years. She was something else. Unapologetically happy, full to the brim with adoration for her family, and love for her friends - people who she trusted wholeheartedly, and who had been through the worst with her - she found the person that she was when she was in love was agreeable to her.

It was strange to think that she'd thought of herself as a lonely person, condemned to bear the burden of her family's legacy on her back, watching other people love and be loved while she tried her best to be a good mother to the daughter she'd never asked for, but had loved and protected fiercely. It was strange to wake up in her and Freen's bed, in their apartment, with Freen's arm a dead weight across her chest, feeling so content with things as she lingered in bed, under the embrace of the sleeping woman, for as long as she could. There was a simple joy in walking hand-in-hand down the street with her daughter and her girlfriend or playing Uno while they ate pizza in the living room, the three of them laughing as they competitively played round after round. She loved the stolen moments where she took Laurel to the park to ride her bike, or the rare nights that Freen had off work and Angel or Sam took Laurel, and the two of them would go out for dinner and enjoy dates that went marginally better than their first one. There was a simple joy in laughing and knowing that there wasn't any danger lurking around the corner.

She felt free, wandering the streets without suspicion, breathing in the fresh air as she enjoyed her life in the most uncomplicated manner. In a moment of light-hearted happiness, Becky suggested that they take a vacation. It didn't take much convincing to get Freen to agree to take two weeks holiday over the summer break, and at the end of May, when the weather was starting to get blisteringly hot, the three of them packed their bags and caught a flight to Florida, making their way to Sanibel Island like they had a few years back, when things had been messy and dangerous and Becky had been afraid.

This time, they flew instead of driving, not needing to worry about the airport being watched, and made their way to the beachfront shacks that they'd stayed in last time. They'd booked the exact same one, the one from Freen's childhood, and Becky looked at the peeling peach paint and white trim with a fondness. It was more like a fondness for the following two weeks, with the knowledge that this time they'd be able to enjoy themselves completely, without a care in the world, and the thought of making more memories at the place that was so special to Freen. It would be their place now.

As Becky stepped into the cabin, finding it much the same as last time, with the yellow kitchen cupboards, the sagging blue couch and the same round laminate table, scarred with use, she smiled faintly, recalling days spent at the beach, her attempt at fishing, and arguing with Freen. It felt so long ago already. As she looked around, she could envision a younger version of Freen too, around Laurel's age but hair bleached by the sun and skin golden from hours spent at the beach with her parents, and she turned to look at her, taking in the sad look in Freen's blue eyes as they swept around the place, remembering those memories. As she met Becky's eyes, the sadness vanished though and she gave her a bright smile, walking over to her and giving her a quick kiss.

"Beach?"

"Of course," Becky said, her hand trailing across Freen's shoulders and back as she brushed past her and dumped their bags on the floor in the bedroom.