Chapter Ten
The ocean is everything an ocean should be. It's sunny, wet and soothing. Three things a girl can't ever live without. The beach, too, is everything a beach should be. Dry, sandy and incredibly crowded. Which is good, ‘cause I don't need anymore surprises today. At least, not until tonight.
Terry is running barefoot in the soft sand, skimming the fresh tide with every step she takes. She twirls here and there, showing me happy smiles and throwing me odd pieces of sanded glass and ugly seashells.
"What are you gonna do with all these things, Ter?"
"Start a collection."
Which in other words means: ‘Start a shoe box full of stuff that will collect dust and stay hidden under the bed for decades'.
She dumps a handful of wet glass, clinging with sand, into her little plastic bucket and scurries along the shore once again, leaving me to follow behind.
And I take this time to bask in Ter's happiness, to think about our peculiar morning, to predict tonight's wild adventure and to simply… think about her. Her.
Of all the people in the world who knew Faith and me, I think Wesley was the one who figured it out best. Don't let your feelings for her get in the way. Or something like that. Wes. Bless his soul.
My feelings for her have always gotten in the way. Even when she came back to Sunnydale to help us fight The First. Those same feelings. They were there. Blocking the way in our quest to build a tentative friendship. I knew it and so did she. I still have no idea how we ended up together. And now it's happening again. Those same feelings. They're here.
Terry runs over to me, her blue flowered shorts wet with ocean water, sand to her elbows, and smelling of sunscreen. I love this kid to death.
"Mommy!" She exclaims wildly, throwing herself in my arms, making me drop our shoes and bag.
"Ter!" I reply in the same enthusiasm.
"Is it ice cream time?" She asks, pulling back to look me in the eye, showing me one little dimple in her right cheek.
"I dunno. Is it?"
"I think so." She says, nodding sagely, throwing a glance to the ice cream stand near a group of palm trees.
"I think you might be right."
She nods again: her way of showing me that she agrees with me, and wraps her arms around my neck. The universal kid sign for "hold me". It's one of my favourite. How much longer will I be able to hold her like this?
So I place her on my hip and make my way to the ice cream stand, where I stand in line behind some guy wearing a loose poncho and a fishing hat, complete with tackle and… more fishing gear. When it's finally our turn, Terry places our order and studies the vendor carefully as he scoops the ice cream from the tubs, and into the cones.
When the cones are bought and a bench is found, we sit down and just relax quietly. Terry licks away at the melting ice cream, and stares out into the growing crowd of people walking in the sand while I rehash the possible outcomes of tonight's dinner.
Finally, when one of the outcomes doesn't end with me jumping on Faith, claiming her in front of her perfect boyfriend, Terry suddenly places her hand on my arm and adds a little pressure with her fingers.
"Ter?"
She has a look of concentration in her eyes which tells me she's about to say something incredibly intuitive for a six year old. She takes another lick at her cone and rests her head on my arm.
"You see that girl?" She asks me, pointing towards a group of people near the shore.
There are about ten girls in that group, but I instinctively know which one she's talking about. There's a girl, on the beach, standing softly in the wet sand, letting the tide swirl around her ankles carelessly, casting her eyes into the horizon as the wind blows through her hair. I don't mean to sound poetic and like a cheap drugstore harlequin novel, but she's doing just that.
"Yeah." I say. "What about her?"
"She looks happy." Terry says, shrugging off the moment casually, going back to her ice cream.
She looks happy. Why don't you look happy, Mommy? The girl really does look happy. She seems to be all about the glowing and the basking in the sun. Wish I could be like that. I was, I guess, once upon a time, like that. But… That was before… before the craziness. Why don't I look happy anymore? Has Teresa ever seen me happy? Will she ever see me happy? They sound like forbidden matters. And I'm looking for answers to questions that I can't possibly begin to ask.
So in light of all of that, I suddenly remember to call Dawn back, and make the mistake of telling her about my dinner plans. After the shrill laughter and hysteria, there's a slight pause.
"Dawn?"
"Are you serious?"
"No. But when September rolls along, I'm thinking of enrolling Teresa in Circus School. I bet she'd be a killer on the unicycle."
"Buffy. Are you okay with this?" Dawn asks, concern laced into her voice.
"Well, I did agree to it, so I guess on some level I am ready. But… I really don't know. I guess we'll see after tonight."
After she wishes me luck and we hang up, Ter gives me an odd look.
"Are you really gonna make me go to Circus School?"
"When you were me. Did it feel like… Like you belonged? Like it was right? Did you feel happy?"
"What do you mean?"
"Could you have lived your life like that?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I'm not you. And you're not me. It just… came out that way. It didn't have to happen. But… it did."
"Do you love me?"
"Wouldn't be here if I didn't."
So dinner starts off wonderfully. Faith is late and Gravis is explaining to us exactly how he got his massive scar. I can tell it's the G-rated version, for Terry's sake, and it really sucks, despite the fact that he's really enthused about it.
"Now I'm irritated. Completely. So then I'm all like, ‘Oh yeah? You think you're tough stuff?' and the person turns around and it's a woman. So I freeze, right? Not knowing what to do. I don't wanna fight a girl, yanno?" He says, and I feel Faith arriving. "So she goes ‘Don't waste my time.'" He finishes.
"If I remember correctly, I said ‘You challenge girls to fights often, beach boy?'" Faith says as she settles in at our table, giving Gravis a sly grin, and I almost choke on my MGD.
"You gave Gravis that scar?" Ter asks, horrified.
Faith takes on a look of panic as she suddenly doesn't want to look like the bad guy in her daughter's eyes.
"It wasn't on purpose." She says finally. "Was an accident." And I see her poke Gravis in the ribs with her elbow.
"Yeah." He adds hurriedly.
Right. Like that'll convince Teresa. But she buys it and nods her little head.
"Wow." She says. "We went to the beach." She adds completely off topic.
Just when Faith is about to say something about that, our sever, Mylene, if we go by her nametag, comes by to take Faith's drink order.
"Anything to drink?" Mylene asks in Faith's direction.
Faith casts a look towards my beer and gives me a hard look.
"Perrier. With a few lemon wedges." She says finally, tearing her gaze away from me and back to Mylene.
Mylene nods.
"Sure thing." She says.
"Thanks Doll." Faith drawls sensually in her direction.
Mylene saunters away with Faith clearly checking her out. Gravis notices too and grins. What the hell?
"8" Faith says.
Gravis nods.
"8.5." He says.
"Generous, as always."
Okay, seriously. Rate the waitress? Come on. Thankfully, Terry doesn't catch on and settles on watching some kids play on the few arcade games in a corner. If she's feeling anything about this dinner with Faith, she doesn't let it show one bit. Gravis catches her look and smiles.
"Terry and I are going to check out the arcade." He says, getting up, and picking Ter up from her booster seat.
I nod thankfully and let my gaze settle back on Faith. Faith. Who's been cool as a cucumber; who's been flirting openly with the waitress; who's been anything but nervous. She's sitting lazily, with an arm laced casually over the back of her chair, staring back at me. Her face is clean and free of any make up save for some clear lip-gloss. Her hair is loose and tumbles gently over her shoulders. She's wearing—get this— a pink tank top and painted on faded jeans. She's got flip flops on her feet: Another surprise.
"Hey." I say softly, and it surprises me that I'm the one who spoke first. I think she's surprised too.
"Hey." She says, and I can see that some nervousness is finally slipping in. Thank God. We're finally on the same level.
We're interrupted once more when Mylene comes back with Faith's Perrier and when she disappears again, an awkward silence settles in until both of us can't take it anymore.
"Gotta go to the washroom." She says as I say, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."
We both freeze and stare at each other with an immense sense of… fear? Is that what I'm sensing? She slowly gets up and makes her way through the restaurant to the ladies room as I dottily follow behind.
She opens the door and goes straight to the counter and leans herself forward on her arms, with her head down. I just lean against one of the stall doors and look at her reflection in the mirror. She sighs deeply and lifts her head back up and stares at herself in the mirror. Maybe she's looking at me, but I can't really tell.
"This has been one wild day." She says softly, still staring in the mirror.
"Tell me about it." I breathe and she lets herself smile.
"I've missed you." She says suddenly, and it takes me by surprise. Really?
So much so that I somehow fall backwards and end up on my back on the cold and dirty tiled floor. Which is odd, since I was leaning on a stall door.
"B?" Faith asks standing over me beside this other girl. Wait. I thought we were two in here.
"Are you okay? I'm real sorry." This girl says. "I didn't know you were leaning against the door."
Oh. I didn't know anyone was in there.
"S'okay. My fault really." I mumble as I take Faith's outstretched hand and heave myself up.
"Are you sure? I could go get some ice or something." This girl says, all concerned and everything.
I'm just about to answer when Faith does for me.
"Sounds like a plan." She says, ushering this girl out of the bathroom, literally pushing her towards the door.
"I'll be right back." I hear the other girl say before Faith shuts the door and locks it.
She leans her back against it and sighs.
"You okay?" She breathes.
"Five by." I say and she smirks.
She looks around the room a bit and settles her eyes on the tampon dispenser.
"You smoke now?" She says, unexpectedly.
You sober now? Perrier instead of Jack? Instead of… me? Guess she tasted that this morning when…
"When you left," I start and she cringes, as her eyes are still on the dispenser, "you forgot your pack of smokes. I dunno. Seemed wrong to throw them away, somehow."
Faith does that half nod she's mastered throughout the years. She just kinda tilts her head back, but you never actually see her bring it back down.
"I'm sorry for this morning." She says, finally looking at me.
"Don't sweat it."
She blinks and nods, this time fully, before sighing again.
"So you told her about me."
"Well, yeah."
"Why?" She asks, and she's serious.
"Why not? You're a part of her life whether you want it or not."
She stays silent for a while.
"I want it." She says slowly. "These five years. They've been so fucking… I can't believe I did that."
Some parts of me just want to scream. YOU can't believe? I can't believe. But I don't.
"I know." Is all I manage.
"But I had to. You know that, right?" She says, and it stings me to the core.
Ladies and gentlemen. Old on to your walkers and top hats.
"You had to? Oh, spare me the bullshit, F." It's way bitter. And it takes me way back.
She gives me a cold hard look before she nods softly.
"Fine." She breathes and reaches out to grab my shirt collar.
She pulls me close and when her face isn't even an inch away, she smirks and sticks her leg out in between my own.
"Truth is…" She starts, and I kiss her.
I kiss her. Me. So here I go again, wondering what my mental illness is. Because lets face it: I wouldn't have done that if I were legally sane. Can you blame me? My last little encounter was with Dave, the PE teacher that Terry didn't like, so it didn't last. The things I do for that kid.
Faith moans into the kiss and brings her knee up a bit so that… Oh, god.
Chapter Eleven
A few weeks after Terry was born, Faith called Andrew over to baby-sit and dragged me out of the house to have a night of fun. Christmas had been nice but busy as everything and everyone had somehow ended up at our place for the holidays. So a few days after Christmas, Faith and I ended up in an Irish pub with a plan to rid my growing cabin fever.
After we had a few shots and pints, Faith got up and led me to the smallish—but deserted—dance floor, and started to go all Michael Flatley on me, minus the tapping.
"Where the hell did you learn that?" I asked, clearly impressed. I really was.
She grabbed my hand and made me twirl with the beat of the music.
"Song's called Fairytale of New York, and every self respected kid from Boston with Irish blood should know it." She explained, pulling me close and hopping to the edge of the floor and back. "Dance moves just come with it." She added with a growing smile, making me twirl again. "When Teresa's old enough, I'll make sure she knows it too."
That's when I knew Faith would be—against all odds—an excellent mother. Guess I was a little off the track of reason. Or drunk. Whatever. Same diff.
Faith hikes her knee up to create a little more pressure, which in turn makes me groan, and thus, snaps me back to reality, and the present.
Whoa Nelly. I pull back for some much needed air and study her carefully. When I see her now, I wonder how I could've let her walk away. She's so damn easy to look at. She's sporting her ‘I want you' look, looking all hot and bothered, eyes heavy with want. It's good to know I still got ‘it'.
And suddenly, a very pertinent question floods my mind.
"What?" She breathes, brushing away a strand of my hair. "What's wrong?"
What? What's wrong? Time to voice that question, I suppose.
"The hell are we doing?" I manage, as I pull my face away, somewhat reluctantly. "Gravis and Terry are waiting for us."
Her breath gets caught in her throat as she—I think—snaps out of it too.
"I know. But I'm not the one humping my leg."
She thrusts her knee up a bit more to prove her point and smiles languidly as my eyes go wide when I realize I'm practically saddled on her leg. Heat of the moment, my ass.
So I jump off, as gracefully as I can, and straighten my shirt with my now sweaty hands.
"Been awhile?" She asks, not with cockiness, as I would've thought, but with the barest hint of concern.
"How long have we been in here?" I ask: A poor attempt to change the subject.
Faith cocks her head and checks her watch.
"Few minutes."
Feels like hours. Both of us end up in front of the mirror, tidying ourselves up as best we can when suddenly, my mouth starts playing tricks on me again.
"Do you really miss me?"
"Buffy." It's a feral plea and it makes my knees quiver.
"Do you?" I pursue.
"Don't you?"
Argh! Why is it that Faith and I can never ever have a revealing conversation without the word games? I swear, she makes me so… barmy.
"Faith. Don't do this. Not now."
Her eyes narrow as she nods. The half nod again.
"I'm not the one who left. I don't have two jobs, working six days a week. I didn't quit drinking. I didn't find Mr. Perfect. I didn't leave, Faith. I didn't. I'm still right here. So you can stop… humbling me."
We stare at each other through the mirror until she looks away, whispering my name softly.
"Buffy." It's so soft and… perfect. The way it should be said. But I'm still way too mad to fall for it.
"Oh, fuck me; we're going to talk until we say something." I warn, pleadingly. "I have a right to know, damnit."
"Okay." She murmurs. "Tonight."
"Tonight! Faith, Teresa and I are going to be long gone by tonight."
And then, just like that, I loose the upper hand I had gained, only a few moments ago.
"Fine. You wanna talk? Let's talk. Cause, God knows, everything that needs to be said can be said in a matter of seconds." She bites back sarcastically. "And I really feel like doing that with a mob of angry women banging on the door."
She doesn't spare me another look before she unlocks the door and swings it open. There are about a dozen women standing, waiting to come in, including the one who went to fetch some ice.
Faith walks out and I can't help but follow her back to our table before accepting an ice pack. Ter and Gravis are drawing on brown paper. They both look up and give us toothy grins. Okay, this guy has got me. Hooked.
"We didn't know what you wanted so we ordered the family sized fajita platter." He says.
Family.
"Great." Faith says, suddenly full of enthusiasm. "What are you guys drawing?" She asks, taking a seat.
Terry's eyes beam when she looks up.
"A castle taken under siege by vampires." She explains casually, and it just hits me now how cool Ter seems to be with Faith.
Faith smiles as she peers over the drawing. I finally take a seat next to Ter and Faith's eyes land in mine before going back to our daughter.
"That looks pretty awesome." She says. "How's about you and Mommy stay over at our house tonight?"
"Really?" Ter and Gravis say at the same time, but without the same tone.
"Yeah." Faith shrugs.
Teresa nods and turns her head to look at me. She gives me a warm smile and a wink before placing her little hand over mine. I try to smile back but it ends up broken, so I let my mind wonder when the food will arrive. Fighting—especially with Faith—whether it be physical or verbal, has always made me hungry and…
Faith and Gravis live in this spanking new condominium building, in Pasadena South. It looks to be about a dozen floors high, and the side rooms have these huge loft-like windows that go all the way up to the high ceilings. Either Faith makes a killing working for Giles and Robin, or Gravis inherited a shitload of money. Between the mechanic who repairs rusty old Dodge Neons and the chick who helps save the world once in awhile, my money's on the chick. And I'm not just saying that because I used to sleep with her.
Gravis hasn't said anything since dinner, and it makes me wonder exactly what his relationship with Faith really entails. I mean, he's been nothing but cordial with Terry and me, and he's shown some signs of love and affection towards his girlfriend, but they've only been just that. Signs. As for Faith, who knows what she's thinking, or even playing? I haven't seen any real demonstration of warmth towards him, except for the chaste kiss she planted on his lips this morning. And I know that was done out of pure trepidation.
"Hey Trace." Faith says to the gatekeeper as we walk out of the garage.
"Miss Lehane. Mister Page." The gatekeeper says in a neutral voice. "Beautiful evening, is it not?"
A gatekeeper! In Pasadena! M-O-N-E-Why? ‘Cause they got it. Okay... That was a Xander moment. I admit it.
"Busy night?" Gravis says, finally breaking out of his repenting silence.
The gatekeeper smiles politely before nodding Teresa's direction.
"Nothing worth this visit."
Faith smiles and places a hand on Terry's shoulder in a maternal fashion that I've yet to see tonight.
"Trace, this here is my daughter, Terry." She says as Gravis walks on away from us, to the front doors.
"It is a pleasure, Terry." Trace says as Ter giggles into her hands. "Have a wonderful night."
Faith nods and motions us to walk to the doors in which Gravis has disappeared.
The inside is rich but not glamorous. It's very simple, but it's just screaming "I have taste!" The elevator is a typical loft elevator, open from all sides but for a gate in the front. There are fifteen floors, and Faith presses the button ‘15'.
"Where's 13?" Terry asks me, holding onto my hand. She's never been a fan of elevators.
"There is no thirteenth floor. It's considered bad luck." I explain, my voice cold and distant.
Terry frowns but stays silent as Faith leans against the back beam before the elevator begins its climb. I don't know why I'm so bitter all of a sudden. Dinner was actually livable, and the ride here was done in an odd comforting silence as Terry watched the night lights roll by through her backseat window.
But now… Being here. I dunno. I guess it kind of reminds me of the time I barged into Faith's apartment with a plan to kill her. It kinda looked like this. But that was almost fifteen years ago. It shouldn't be affecting me like this, should it? For God's sake, you're 32, Buffy. Not 18.
The gate opens up and Faith leads the way to a burgundy door with the number 1A printed on. She opens it up, and leads the way inside.
"This is it. Come in." She says softly, as if she's suddenly unsure of this whole deal.
Gravis' smiles our way before walking, barefooted, to the open kitchen. He swings the door to the stainless steel fridge and grabs himself a soda before walking out again, into what I presume is the master bedroom. But before he walks in, he turns around and nods in Faith's direction. There's soft music coming from the room, and if my music knowledge doesn't escape me, it sounds like Heart.
"I'm gonna turn in. Leave you guys some time to… talk. G'night." He says. "Night Terry."
"Good night Gravis!" Ter waves, and then yawns herself.
All three of us just stand there, not knowing where to start and where to begin. I swear, if I knew what today had planned for us, I would've just stayed in bed. Motherly duties be damned.
Terry yawns again and leans her head against my thigh. It's been a pretty big day for her too. Faith notices and decides to start talking.
"Hum, let me show you where you guys can crash."
She leads us to a spare bedroom equipped with a double bed and a simple dresser. It's a nice room, painted a deep shade of green, with various prints hanging on the wall. There's one of the whole gang, taken a few days after Sunnydale. There's also one of Spike, Faith and I, a few days before Terry was born, on the back porch at the house in Lenwood. Our house. One of Angel and Faith standing in front of some muscle car; looking very much like soul survivors. And finally, a more recent shot, of the whole revamped Scoobies, minus me, plus Faith, Vi, Robin, Andrew and a few faces I don't recognize.
"Nice. Thanks." I say softly.
"Bathroom's just across there. Sleep well Baby T." She says before retreating backwards, closing the door.
Terry and I just stand there, by the door, before I snap out of whatever trance I was in.
"Let's get you to bed, Missy."
Teresa gives me a tired pout but nods just the same. After I help her clean up and change into her somewhat clean beachwear, I quickly usher her into the warm bed, and sit down next to her. Her eyes are heavy and struggling to stay open as she stifles yawn after yawn.
"Mommy?" She says drowsily, laying her head on the pillow.
"Ter?" I say as I brush some of her hair from her face.
"What's going to happen tomorrow?" She asks, another frown taking place on her brow.
I wish I knew, Babe. What do you answer to that? What do you tell your innocent six year old? Do you lie and say that everything will be chocolate cake and daisies? Or do you give her the honest truth that scares the crap out of you?
Willow once told me that kids will believe anything you tell them. But they'll also remember everything you ever tell them. So you can lie to them, but you always run the chance of it coming back to bite you in the ass. So, in light of that, I've never spared Teresa anything, unless I thought it too complicated for her to understand. But this… This is even too complicated for me to understand, but it's something that Terry deserves to know. So. The truth it is.
"I wish I knew, Babe." I voice out quite honestly and unsure of myself.
She sighs and shuts her brown eyes before opening them again.
"Sweet dreams, sweetheart." I kiss her forehead and gingerly get up to affront the long awaited talk.
"Mommy?" She says again, and I turn around to face her. "Can you stay here with me?"
I smile and nod and expel the breath I was holding in. So I snuggle in next to her, holding her gently like I've done countless times before, laying my head behind hers, and gently laying my chin on her small shoulder. Before long, she falls asleep, wiped out from the tired day, and leaves me awake, thinking of our average life.
The average house we live in. The average high school where I teach and Terry's average primary school. The average neighborly friends we have. The average car I drive. The average salary I make as a counselor and self defense instructor. The average life we lead.
And it makes me think about Faith. About her above average boyfriend. Her above average job. Her above average condo. Her above average… everything. And it shouldn't, but it does: It humbles me. And I hate loving her for it.
I get up softly, careful not to wake Teresa up, and notice for the first time the picture on the bedside table. It was taken on the back porch of our house. In it, Terry's about ten months old, and is held by Faith, sitting sideways on the lower wooden steps. It was taken maybe two weeks before she left. I know, ‘cause I remember taking that picture.
My eyes water, but I quickly dry them with my sweater sleeve, and make my way to the door. I open it and shut it softly behind me and make my way to the sitting room, where I know she's waiting for me. And there she is, sitting on the couch lazily, but I can tell that she's really tense. She's staring out of the big window and I just lean back against the corner of the wall. Finally, she turns her gaze my way and does the half nod thing.
"You good?" She says, shaking her head like that wasn't what she had meant to say.
"Yeah."
"She asleep?"
"Yeah. She was really wiped."
She nods softly and scoots a little to the left of the couch, inviting me to sit next to her. It's a dangerous move, but it needs to be done. I don't think what we have to say to each other can be said from across a coffee table. So I do. I take the seat and envelop myself in the scent of it. It smells like home. I take a swallow as we look at each other apprehensively.
"Look, I know you got questions, and for a long time, I didn't think I could ever be able to answer them." She starts off. "But I'm willing to give it a try. For Teresa."
"For Teresa." I agree, and know I'm in for a long night.
