because i was in wisconsin, and twelve

hopeless wanderlust and a splash of lackadaisical snark

[diana-goodwin]

i'm not mature enough for this!

a diana goodwin playlist

american teenager, ethel cain

who will save your soul, jewel

VBS, lucy dacus

turn it off, paramore

funeral, phoebe bridgers

hear you me, jimmy eat world

hymn, kesha

sorcerer, stevie nicks

reflecting light, sam phillips

space song, beach house

teenage dirtbag, wheatus

the way we get by, spoon

after midnight, chappell roan

church girl, beyonce

denial is a river, doechii

misbehavin', amy lee and baby billy

[thea-hammond]

There was something about Diana that had always been so interesting to Thea; she never existed within the confines of the ideals Thea had for her, never quite ascribed readily to any one label or definition. For as long as Thea knew her in school, she seemed to always sort of function on a modus operandi that was unclear to everyone but her. This made her fascinating, but also threatening - at least, to teenage Thea, who strove to maintain order, who thrived on certainty. Perhaps that was what their pseudo-rivalry had been borne of, really - the idea that Diana was comfortable enough to exist within the margins but still somehow succeeded, seemingly effortlessly.

Even now, her acerbic wit came quickly, and Thea fought to keep her smirk at bay. "Fashion capital of the world," she agreed easily, eyeing Diana as she continued working the way someone observing a rare bird might. She'd always been...intense, but there was something different about this, an edge to the interaction. Thea, fascinated and lacking delicacy, probed: "I thought you'd moved down south?"

[diana-goodwin]

For a split second, Diana considered dropping the truth bomb -- that Bobby Goodwin was dying, and too proud to admit it to anyone, and so his daughters were here to facilitate his journey to wherever souls go. If for nothing else, it was brash enough to be memorable. But it was also wildly inappropriate, so Diana made a noncommittal noise in response to Thea's question, and pulled at the hangers to open up space on the rack. "Been south," she acknowledged. "Been north, and east, too." Should I mention west, or do you have your directions memorized?"

From the little they'd directly interacted in high school, Diana hadn't come away being particularly endeared to Thea. She remembered the other girl had seemed to have more money than sense most of the time, and in her determination to rebel against the rest of their graduating class, Diana had dismissed her and her friends, preferring to run solo.

"And what are you doing in Ann Arbor?" she asked, sounding almost accusatory although she'd meant it politely. "Last I heard you were supposed to be storming New York City."

[caleb-ashmore]

Caleb listened intently to Diana, thumb fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle as he did so. "Oh, sure. That's why I joined the Marines." He nodded along. "And then they just beveled me down from a square to a circle. Did wonders." He joked with a half smile. "I always knew it wasn't a good fit, though. Except your sister forces me to play nice with my half brother, and I uh... Well, I do what she says." He tipped the mouth of his beer towards Diana before taking another swig.

"Think about it, don't think about it. Split your time, whatever. The room will be there, there'll be a bed in it. You can use it or not use it. Grace already told me that I can expect to be kicked out of my own bed for uh... sleepovers, so." He was amused and endeared by Grace and Diana's relationship, though it never moved him to want to be closer to Gabriel. No, Caleb had his brothers, the ones he'd been molded into a man alongside, and that band of brothers was more than he'd ever need.

"I think it's great you're here, y'know." He offered with a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes. "Grace will probably never say how much she needed it. You're her, uh... Well. You're kind of like her baby, or whatever. I think that's how she put it. But I know she really needed you around. I can't fill that gap, y'know. I can give your dad a sponge bath, which I have, but uh... You know. You're her sister. It's different."

[diana-goodwin]

Diana listened, one eyebrow raised, as Caleb divulged more about his family to her in this moment than he had in the entire time she'd known him. She picked at her thumbnail, uncertain if she was supposed to acknowledge that she'd just learned something personal about Caleb, or if she was supposed to encourage him to keep going. "Yeah, she's good at getting you to be nice to people you don't necessarily like, isn't she?" she asked, thinking of all the times her elder sister appealed to her better nature. "We should send her to DC and see if she can make any headway there."

She let out a good-natured chuckle when she learned Grace had already planned sleepovers. They were so rarely in the same place, that any occasion was occasion to celebrate. Diana thought fondly of the nights when Grace would make popcorn and force them to watch a rom-com that Diana would roll her eyes through. "I'll definitely let you know," she repeated. "Depends on how crazy Bobby and Louise make me, you know what I mean?"

"You must really love my sister," she said after taking in the mental image of Caleb giving Bobby a bath. "Because I wouldn't even do that for my dad. I don't even think my mother would." It wasn't glamorous, nor was it something that Louise could mention to win sympathy and attention from others, so of course she wouldn't want to provide a sponge bath to an ailing man. She let out a small sigh, thinking of how hard Grace worked to take care of every other Goodwin. "She takes too much on," Diana said quietly. "She gives and gives to everyone and I don't know if she takes enough time for herself. And now that we are family," she added, "we have to make sure she doesn't burn herself out."

[grace-goodwin]

Grace took a bite, listening as she chewed, her eyes trained on her plate so as to avoid losing a piece of enchilada in transit - but her attention otherwise holding on to Diana's every word. There would always be a stark dichotomy between the Goodwin girls, and not just in their appearance or demeanor - it was in the way they lived, the way they navigated the world, the very fabric of their beings. Where Diana had always been more vocal, more forceful, more intense, Grace was a muted and restrained, content to exist within the margins or background, fine to play the part of the happy daughter so long as it made her good. Diana had never cared about being good - she cared about being happy.

It was one of the best things about her.

Grace narrowed her gaze as she listened, working to swallow her food quickly so she could respond to Diana's inquiry thoughtfully. "I'm not, like, some martyr, Di," she offered, her tone light, even. She looked up, then, making eye contact with her sister; Diana's bright eyes were narrowed, soft and somewhat sympathetic, which made Grace just slightly uncomfortable. "I guess part of me kind of likes it? I like feeling useful. I like feeling like I'm...making a difference, I guess." She licked her lips, leaning forward to take a sip of her margarita from its straw. "Plus, I'm here. I mean, my life is here. Caleb's here, the house is here, my job..." She looked at Diana intently, as if she was trying to coax her into believing her. "I chose this, hon."

[diana-goodwin]

Grace explained her choices, and Diana chewed slowly.

She chewed slowly, and kept her mouth shut, because it was important to give her full attention to her sister given such a delicate topic. Their paths had diverged so starkly once Diana graduated from college, and it was sometimes hard for Diana to understand why Grace would want to stay with people who had been looming, oppressive parents to them both. Did Grace really enjoy it, or did she feel like she should? Did Grace really choose this life, or -- as Diana often worried guiltily -- did she stay because Diana's leaving took the choice away from her? "You can make a difference to lots of people," she pointed out, and punctuated the statement by pointing with her fork. "You're a teacher. You make a difference all the time."

"I guess I just ..." she let out a sigh, and drooped her shoulders. "I don't understand why. Why do you want to be needed? Why do you have to be here to feel like you make a difference, or put roots down? It's not like Caleb is super close with his family, is he?" Unless there was something she missed, Diana couldn't recall hearing that he had a particularly strong bond with the rest of the Ashmores. "You could do all of this somewhere else, if you wanted." What Diana was really trying to say was this: you could escape Bobby and Louise too, if you wanted. You aren't stuck.

But maybe it was possible that Grace really did love the position she was in, and Diana wasn't sure how to process that. "When was the last time you took a vacation?"

[sweetfridays]

♡ SAOIRSE RONAN variety's actors on actors

[thea-hammond]

@diana-goodwin Finders Keepers Thrift

Thea had always enjoyed a thorough, well-refined plan, even on her days off. The weekends needed to be maximized, in her opinion - and she had plenty she knew she needed to do. Abel moving out had afforded her more freedom over the house, and the opportunity to pay it a bit more attention to it - which had led her to the realization that it was woefully unfinished. She had been consulting Architectural Digests as her bible, dog earring spreads she found particularly inspirational for months; now, it was time to put her planning and brainstorming into action. She'd planned to pick Abel up when he rolled out of bed, which afforded her most of the morning to hit a couple of estate sales. Driving through town on her way to get him, though, she had an idea, and decided to pop into the thrift store. She knew she was picky - she preferred to call it particular - but she was not a snob when it came to quality furniture; she would source whatever she could from wherever she could, and sometimes, she had learned, thrifting was the way to go. As she got a cart - it never hurt to be prepared - she caught a familiar sight ten feet away, head ducked down in the men’s clothing, eyes narrowed as though she was hunting large prey.

“Oh, holy shit,” Thea said plainly. This proved enough to apparently attract the girl’s - woman’s - attention, and Diana Goodwin’s head popped up, her eyes widening in shock, then softening into something a bit more miserable. This made sense, even now — Huron Academy was a small school, and the two of them had always been somewhat adversarial, spending most of their later high school years nipping at one anothers heels. Strangely, Thea couldn’t remember who the antagonist was in their story - her, or Diana. As an adult, from this far away, she only knew one thing: while she had won valedictorian, nobody knew what the hell happened to Diana after graduation, and that had seemed like the ultimate win in Thea’s opinion. She blinked, only then ascertaining that she might have been an interruption. “Diana. Sorry. Hi.” A beat, then, as the pair sized one another up. Thea would have worn something nicer had she known she ran this risk. Curiosity overtook her after a few seconds, and she suddenly blurted, “What are you even doing here?”

[diana-goodwin]

She didn't know why she was here, really. Diana didn't even like thrifting. She understood the ecological importance of reduce reuse recycle, and how it extended to clothing, but Dian could never quite get into the thrifting trend. It was funny what hobbies she was willing to pick up just to find a way to get away from her overbearing mother and ailing father. She hadn't said a word to Grace, but she'd spent all of three days with her parents before remembering why she was so hell-bent on leaving in in the first place. Everything about her family home felt suffocating. Louise was omnipresent, looming over Diana, watching and judging every little move she made. And Bobby, simmering with pain and anger at the state of his health. It made her itchy. It made her reconsider Caleb's offer to let her stay with him and Grace.

So here she was, an excuse to get away from the Goodwin parents, killing time in the thrift store without any real goal for the afternoon. She idly flipped through the racks, barely paying attention to the sizes of clothing, more out of a desire for something to do than to actually find anything to purchase. She would pick up a hanger, put it back on the rack, and continue on, all the while mulling over her father's condition and the choices she and Grace would have to make moving forward. She barely even heard a voice speak out, and only looked up when she heard her name. Diana missed the rest of the sentence, as she looked over at the person who greeted her and remembered quite clearly who Thea Hammond was and how their history unfolded. Her eyes narrowed and wondered at the sincerity of her words.

"Looking for some vintage Gucci to upsell on Depop, obviously," she said, deadpan. "Everyone knows the best shit is in Ann Arbor. I mean, isn't that what you're doing?" she asked, eyebrow raised, prompting Thea to provide her own explanation for her presence.

[grace-goodwin]

Grace sighed, then, an exhale large enough that her shoulders bowed slightly inward, as if she was trying to rid her body of all of its anxiety. She knew Diana would have been well within her rights to read her the riot act for withholding so much from her, and she knew she'd have had no choice but to sit there in the face of the inquisition and accept it. She wasn't altogether surprised that Diana had chosen, instead, to provide her a kindness - but it was an abundantly welcome notion, nonethless. She didn't feel relieved, but she did feel accepted. It was surprising how similar the two things could be. "I think he's just tired, Di," she offered, lowly. It had been nearly fifteen years of this, and the persistent comorbidities that accompanied it, and Grace knew - perhaps better than anyone - that their father had lived every day of that with a burning, righteous anger; that sort of weighted malice was not meant to be carried forever. "And for a long time, for me, it seemed like a normal tired, and now I guess it just seems like something...different." She blinked up at Diana, then, a knowing look. "A different kind of tired. "

She wouldn't have wanted Diana there for any of it, but she didn't bother to say that - she felt it was implicit, her desire to spare her sister from the worst parts of everything. Grace was not one to dawdle on her misfortune, and she was certainly not prone to self-pity, but she knew that it had all become a bit heavier than she sometimes felt she was qualified or equipped to handle. Diana would not have been able to live her life had she stayed behind. Diana would not have been able to be who she was had she stayed behind. There was almost no worse thought for Grace.

At mention of Louise's handling of all of it, Grace gave Diana a grave, knowing look as she unwrapped her silverwear from its napkin. "I think part of her is in denial," she admitted, a bit sympathetically. Then, just as quickly - and notably missing the tinge of sadness - she added: "The other part of her is working hard to make herself the center of attention. Lots of crying fits, lots of anger when I can't drop everything. About what you'd expect."

[diana-goodwin]

Louise was a safer topic of conversation. Despite their mother being a terror, it was a terror that Diana knew well. It was something reliable in its absurdity, and something that Diana and Grace were well within their rights to complain about. It was easier to talk about what Louise was doing wrong than to address the fact that Bobby was on a steady irreversible decline. There were too many unknowns and mitigating factors, and while Bobby Goodwin had never been perfect, it felt inappropriate to acknowledge his failures now. Louise had more fight to her -- she was fair game.

"Sounds about how I expected," Diana said with a roll of her eyes. She finally picked up her fork and took a bite of food, pausing to chew and swallow. She still remembered some of her cotillion classes, after all. "Someone else's tragedy is always her time to shine. God forbid the attention be off of her for one minute." She made a face when Grace said Louise was routinely pitching fits when Grace couldn't do exactly what she wanted in that moment. One would think their mother would be happy that Grace had a blooming life, but if Diana had to bet she'd guess Louise was upset at the loss of control.

"You don't have to do it, you know," she said after a long pause. "You don't have to stay and help them, if you don't want to. They aren't like, entitled to your time and energy." Once more Diana thought back to her friend in Asheville saying many of these same things over the years, her red hair and the bright eyes pinning her in place the first time she'd told Diana she wasn't responsible for her parents. "Why do you stay?"

[caleb-ashmore]

Caleb watched Diana carefully, hanging on every word she said. He looked to her to see the things she shared with Grace, the same way he might when he and Grace had children together. To find the pieces of her that he loved in her sister, to learn why Grace adored Diana so. Personality-wise, they seemed like oil and water. And yet... There was a beautiful symmetry to them, a sisterhood. He saw all of this, and by proxy, felt a great sense of loyalty to Grace's sister. "I have been in the picture for a little while now." He agreed with a small, amused smile. "She said she likes a... 'strong man' around the house. So I stopped going without Grace as a buffer."

Tilting his head to the side, Caleb nodded along with Diana's observation of life at home without Grace. "When you leave home, you get perspective. It just uh... You know. You don't fit the same way you used to. Like you're a different shape. You know, square peg, round hole." He could sympathize with the concept, though he'd always felt as though he'd not fit into the Ashmore clan. "I can teach you anything you want to know." Caleb replied before taking another swig of his beer. "But, it'd be a hell of a lot easier if you just moved your suitcase into one of the spare bedrooms here. I'm sure Grace has offered. You don't uh, need to answer now. But you should think about it."

[diana-goodwin]

"Oh, I'm sure she does," Diana replied quickly, thinking of the way her mother ooh-ed and ahh-ed over Caleb each time she was home. Louise wasn't subtle about her fondness for the much younger man. "You know you can still ask Grace to be a buffer, though. For your protection, not hers." She was only half-joking. Who knew what Cougar Louise was capable of. They weren't friends, exactly, as Diana felt the age gap between them had prevented any real closeness for years. But she'd always viewed him as a part of Grace, given how important he'd been to her sister since they started dating all those years ago. There was a sort of camaraderie in loving the same person beyond measure.

"I think I've always known I was the square peg," she admitted, letting out a small sigh. "I think I held the record for most interruptions during Sunday service as a kid. But yeah, the distance can really bring some clarity. How much was me, and how much was them, and what was in the middle." His insight to being the black sheep made Diana wonder if he was speaking from experience, as well. Perhaps they were more alike than she'd thought.

His offer to host Diana for the foreseeable future in the home that Caleb and Grace were building together was so thoughtful that it took Diana aback for a moment. She blinked, processing the offer, and then tilted her head slightly as she pondered why on earth he would extend such a kindness. His love for her sister must be so big, Diana thought, that it somehow extended consideration to her as well. "That's really kind of you," she replied, and took another sip of her drink. "I'll think about it, and let you know." Not an automatic acceptance, but not a refusal, either. She couldn't deny having the space from her parents would be beneficial, but it did seem to defeat the purpose of coming back here at all.

[grace-goodwin]

"I would say that's a fair assessment," Grace said, somewhat drolly - Bobby Goodwin had always been a character, seemingly larger-than-life to Grace. While Grace had always deeply loved him, she had never quite fully committed herself to his idolization in the way he believed he deserved. This was the cause of some friction as she grew into adulthood, and, when he had his stroke, was a large point of contention when Grace became his caretaker; Grace had sometimes ruminated to Caleb how difficult it must have been for her father to have someone he didn't particularly like responsible for his care and safety.

Watching Diana as she chugged, the ache of guilt throbbed in Grace, and she felt stupid for choosing to do this in a crowded restaurant. She realized, though, that there was never going to be a good place, a safe alternative - it felt like Louise was everywhere in the house they grew up in, and Diana had asked, in whatever roundabout way, to know the truth. Still, Grace wanted to cry at the sight of her sister's upset. She gently pulled in her bottom lip, sinking her teeth into it.

She mulled over Diana's imploration, then, turning the words over in her head. If he really wants to. Grace had watched her fathers' pallor dim, his eyes sag. She had watched, over the years, how his body had seemingly given up on itself. She had seen this story play out - and for her, it felt as though it was coming to its close. But Diana had been away, spared the worst - this was not something Grace would ever regret. Still, she hated that she now needed Diana to see it, to live it day to day, to realize how unhappy he was. She needed her sister to understand, intrinsically, the choice that needed to be made; Grace would never try to lead the younger girl to a decision, and she'd never succeed, anyway. "It's not a...we're not going to be forced into deciding anything this week, Di," Grace softly reassured. "It's more for options. Seeing what we can do. How we can help Dad. They mentioned a care facility, or something. There's probably gonna be pamphlets. We're weighing options. All of us."

[diana-goodwin]

As this was a conversation that required nuance and respect for the gravity of the situation, Diana didn't immediately reply. She continued to drink her margarita refill, hoping fervently the alcohol would kick in and numb her to the emotional implications of the news Grace had given her. She chewed on her bottom lip and listened as her older sister elaborated, and wondered which step care facility was. How many options had her sister and mother gone through before getting to this point?

Without thinking of it, she mirrored the body language of her sister, copying her posture. She shifted in the vinyl seat of the booth, and exhaled softly. "I'm not blind," Diana started, leaning forward slightly. "I could see he wasn't -- isn't -- doing well. I guess I just didn't realize how bad it was getting," she admitted. Was she willfully ignorant to what her father was experiencing? Was she intentionally kept in the dark, or had Diana been too absorbed in her own world to notice his decline? It didn't help anyone to ruminate, but Diana knew the uncertainty would keep her up tonight. For how long had she taken her father's presence -- in whatever limited capacity he'd always offered -- for granted? "I wish you would have told me sooner," she said softly. "I could've helped you."

"So what's Louise been saying about all of this?" Diana asked, after a pause when the waiter brought their plates of food to the table. "Can't imagine she's been acting sensibly, since she is .... who she is." Diana looked down at her food, and sat back instead of digging in right away like she typically did. "How's that been, navigating it with her?"

[frontmansdog]

mentally taking a drag of my mental cigarette because I don’t smoke but life has been very smokable lately

[caleb-ashmore]

Caleb felt that he knew Diana very well, but functionally, he could count on one hand the amount of conversations he’d had with her in the entire time he’d been dating Grace. Still, he felt a sense of gratitude by extension that she was back in Ann Arbor. Grace would never complain, but their father’s health weighed on her, and while Caleb helped out whenever needed, he imagined it was different to shoulder the burden with a sibling. Still, it was an odd position to be in, to know her and still be a stranger to her in the same measure. “As opposed to no floor, it’s a big improvement.” Caleb took a sense of pride in the job he was doing with this home. It felt restorative to his soul, to put the home together piece by piece.

“Mostly myself, yeah. I’ve got a pretty good handle on the electrical stuff, plumbing stuff… All the stuff, really. I will definitely be hiring a guy for the HVAC, but, uh, yeah. Sometimes my grandfather comes over. Or I have a YouTube video going. But a lot of it is pretty straightforward if you uh, take the time to do it right.” Caleb took a swig of his beer as he settled into the camping chair, knowing now that he’d sat down, he wouldn’t be resuming work for the day.

“Yeah, I get it. Your dad is uh… Well, only slightly less of a character than your mom. Louise likes to call me when she’s got a new pet project. She is a hard woman to say no to.” Not that Caleb ever would - to any of the Goodwin women. He felt it was his solemn duty as Grace’s partner to abide by her family in whatever they needed, or wanted, too. “No, you’re a pretty good excuse to not do anything else after this. I’m kind of getting to the point where your sister can come in and pick out her paint colors and tell me where to put what.” He smiled at that statement, amused and endeared by Grace’s dreams for the home they’d share together soon enough. “You interested in home improvement or are you just humoring me?"

[diana-goodwin]

Caleb talked about the finer points of home renovation, and Diana looked around the room she stood in, taking in the proof of his hard work and skill. That his labor could produce something tangible and meaningful stood in such stark contrast with her own work, hours spent in front of a screen to create something that lived on a data server. What she made served a purpose, it did help her clients succeed in a digital age, but it wasn't necessarily going to stand the test of time like a hardwood floor. She shoved her free hand in her back pocket and rocked back on her heels, unsure what to do with herself.

She busied herself with the beer she gifted and brought the drink to her lips, savoring the flavor. His description of her father was painfully accurate, and Diana snorted in amusement at the observation. "That's a hell of a way to put it," she agreed, tilting her drink at him. "They're both the main character in their lives, and everyone else is secondary to their goals." Which, quite frankly, was a horrible trait for a pastor to have, but Diana supposed people with that grandiose view of themselves were drawn to the spotlight. "Not surprising Louise thinks she can recruit you." She paused, and then added, "maybe it's because she already considers you family so it's not really asking for a favor."

Diana made a weird shoulder shrug and looked sheepish at Caleb's question. "A little bit of both," she admitted. "Being at home without Grace is .... a lot," she said, letting those two words do some heavy lifting for the oppressive atmosphere in her parents' house. "And I figured since I'm here I should try and reach out, you know ... get to know my future brother in law better. But I wouldn't mind a tutorial or two so I can impress everyone in Asheville."

[grace-goodwin]

Grace couldn't hid her amusement, tickled by Diana's frank inquiry, though it wasn't as though she was entirely inaccurate in her assessment - church, at least the church that they grew up in, by its very nature demanded complete devotion. Something about the theatricality of it all - the large, ampitheatre-like chapel, the wings of offices flanking the building that housed the clergy as well as the financial officers, the coffee shop in the lobby - demanded a weird, garish sort of reverence. Bobby Goodwin, the king of that castle, had always demanded that the girls give it that reverecne; this was usually easier for Grace than it was for her sister. "It was absolutely cult-y," she affirmed, smirk playing on her lips. "I think it's just...kind of a different kind of cult than maybe what you're seeing back in the south. It's not an apples to oranges comparison, but it's more, like...a mandarin to navel orange comparison." She paused. "I guess we'd be the mandarins in that situation."

Keeping her eyes on Diana, Grace let the information wash over it, waiting for her sister to take it all in. "I guess..." she began, weighing how much she actually wanted Diana to know. It didn't seem right to have flown her own with the intention of withholding information, but to share everything, especially in this setting, may not be...prudent. Still, she knew Diana would know if she was being less than truthful, which frankly would guarantee her a worse fate than if she were to just be transparent. "I don't know. I think, the problem is, now, he's just really weak. So when they get rid of the pneumonia, they think they're in the clear, and then there's no improvement, and then he gets sick again. It's been three times with this. He just..." Grace wet her lips, shifting a bit awkwardly in her seat. "He's stubborn."

At Diana's question, Grace balked a bit, realizing she was not entirely prepared to say what it was she had asked her sister to come up to Ann Arbor to hear. "It's about his quality of life," she said quietly. "About whether or not...he'd get better."

[diana-goodwin]

She mulled over what Grace said about their father's unusually large church in comparison to the smaller churches in and around Asheville, and the types of churches shown in film and television when depicting cults. There were definitely similarities between them, despite many of the differences. Maybe it was something she should research another time. Diana could think of a friend or two back home that would have a niche interest in the subject. "Maybe something like a cult of personality," she surmised. "Dad certainly seemed to enjoy having a following."

The information -- or, more accurately, the bomb that her sister dropped on her about the truth of her father's health -- washed over Diana. She blinked, once and then twice, as Grace's words slowly seeped in and the pieces started fitting together. The silence from her mother as she sat at the kitchen table. The rattling breaths her father took. How there hadn't been a blowout fight since Diana had arrived. A strange, unsettling feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, larger until it felt like her veins were turning to ice and she was frozen in place.

In that moment, the only thing Diana could even think to do was this: grab the margarita pitcher, fill up her glass to the rim, and drink it all at once. Less than a minute, and she had drained the glass of its contents. She wiped the back of her mouth with her hand, and her face colored when she realized her poor manners. Diana sat back in her seat and drummed her fingers on the table. "Quality of life?" she asked for clarification, hating how small her voice sounded. "I mean, you said he's stubborn. He can bounce back if he really wants to." A pause. "Right?"

[grace-goodwin]

Grace waved her hand dismissively as she took a hearty sip. "Oh, no offense taken - you know I love a binder," she offered reassuringly, taking mental note of the idea. "It's not something I necessarily grew up considering, I guess. For a while I thought whoever I'd married I'd want it to be in the church, which--" she widened her eyes and raised her brows, as if that alone could emphasize how absolutely inaccurate that sentiment was now. "I grew out of that. Then I met someone I wanted to marry, and now I don't really care how it happens. I just...I know there's going to be a lot of strangers involved, now. Which is fine! It is. It'll be fine. The marriage is what matters."

Grace swallowed, watching as Diana processed her words. Something lingered between them, unresolved, and Grace waited anxiously for Diana to put her out of her misery and end their weighted silence. When she did finally speak, Grace worked to take an even breath, trying to subtly settle herself. Diana didn't seem particularly angry, though Grace wouldn't have been able to blame her in the slightest. She nodded, mulling over her words. "No," she admitted softly. "No, this isn't...this isn't a sudden development."

Grace took in her sister's expectant expression, and admired the way her face had changed even since they last saw each other. It seemed less...soft, in a way - more angular and refined. She remembered Diana's smooth, smooshy cheeks as a child, the way her little mouth always sat perched in a discerning frown - this was not dissimilar to the face she was giving Grace now. Grace exhaled. "After New Year's, it got worse. He...he got pneumonia, and it just...won't..." Grace shook her head. "They don't know how to get rid of it." She looked down, then, ashamed. The clatter of the restaurant filled the space for a second, and then she continued, "He's struggling."

A beat - then, before Diana could speak, Grace continued, hoping to clarify: "The doctor is coming next Wednesday to check on him. It seemed like it was probably going to be an important appointment. And I wanted you here." She wet her lips. "It's good you're here."

[diana-goodwin]

The very idea of a wedding in their home church made Diana want to gag, and she was sure her face reflected how she felt. The church had always been a place that felt stifling, like an itchy tag on the back of her shirt. She could never sit still enough or pay enough attention for her mother's liking, and she never quite agreed with what her father said at the pulpit. Standing with the imaginary love of her life in front of a church where she often felt judged and confined with the people who contributed to it the most frequently felt more like a Saw trap than a celebration of love. "I think you're probably right," she agreed. "The marriage matters way more than the wedding. That seems to be more for everyone else."

"Do you ever feel like church was kind of cult-y?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "Like it was normal but also, sometimes I'm not sure how normal it was. But then I've seen some crazy places in North Carolina, too. And I don't think we were as bad as that."

She listened with uncharacteristic quiet attentiveness as Grace finally opened up and gave her the full, uncensored truth about their father. It was a relief that the information could be laid out between them without euphemisms or the ability to hide anything anymore. As Diana allowed herself to digest exactly what Grace was telling her, and the implications of it, she swirled the alcohol in her glass, watching the ice cubes clink against each other. "Okay, I get it. I do. But also, how do you just not know how to treat pneumonia? Shouldn't they know how to get rid of it? It's been around forever."

It was a stupid thing to say, but it was all she could focus on. How did doctors not know how to treat a common illness? Was he just expected to suffer? At the mention of an important upcoming appointment, her eyes shot up to meet her sister's. "Important in which way?" she asked, bracing herself for the answer.

[grace-goodwin]

Grace sighed. "I have no idea about the wedding stuff, and to be honest, I'm not looking forward to any of it," she admitted, guilty - she'd never confess as much to Caleb. "I kind of...I don't know. I know this is stupid, but I'd always pictured it being just us and a maybe few people. Maybe by the lake, or...you know, outside, somewhere. Simple." She was embarrassed to admit that she'd thought of it at all, that there was any fantasy behind it. But she'd waited so long, and she loved him so much - it wasn't altogether obscene to think she may have considered it, was it?

Eyeing her sister for a moment, she kneaded her lips to the side quickly as she considered her next words carefully. "You know, you - you haven't gotten an SOS call yet because there hasn't been a need for one," she insisted gently. This much was true: she'd managed to handle it all without alerting Caleb to anything troublesome. But the calm she'd managed to cultivate (relative to her, at least) was quickly dissipating as her dad showed no sign of meaningful recovery following a notable setback a couple of months ago. The doctor mentioned quality of life more than once, causing both Louise and Grace to bristle. Their father, who had grown so angry and spiteful following his initial stroke, would certainly not want the life he led now.

But that didn't feel like the kind of decision they could make without Diana.

When Grace had called her sister, after a not-insignificant amount of pontificating on her part and Caleb's gentle reminders that "it was the right thing," she knew that it was likely going to sound an alarm for Diana. But Diana hadn't been particularly inquisitive or confrontational about it thus far, which was somehow...worse. Grace wondered then, as she gazed at her sister's bright blue eyes, heavy with sincerity, if Diana was just waiting for Grace to admit to all of it. A pang of guilt resounded in Grace's chest.

"I just -I called you because I think it's important you're here. I think...as a family, it's important we're together. And I know mom and dad are happy to see you."

[diana-goodwin]

"Huh."

Frankly, Diana had always imagined Grace's wedding as a grand affair with everyone who had ever loved her in attendance. Church packed to the brim, a horse-drawn carriage, a huge party afterward kind of deal. When it came to her own vision of the future, Diana barely saw herself marrying at all. But to hear her sister say she wanted something small and intimate surprised her, and she shoved another chip in her mouth and washed it down with a rather large sip of her margarita before she replied. "Don't be mad, but I always thought you would have had a whole wedding binder or dedicated pinterest board, or something," Diana admitted through bites of food. "A small backyard wedding does sound nice, though." It did seem fitting for what she knew of Caleb.

You haven't gotten an SOS call yet because there hasn't been a need for one. Diana thought of home, and how the air hung heavy with the smell of illness, and the long stretches of silence where the words she might say were stuck in her throat. It was one thing to hear her father was ailing. It was even one thing to know that logically, he was struggling, and her mother along with him. But to see it in person and to be confronted with the reality of the situation was quiet another. "So you're telling me all of this," she said skeptically, gesturing vaguely, "came up within the past few weeks? You had no idea it was going to get to this point until the last few weeks?"

She let out a breath, and the exhale took more out of her than Diana expected. "Well," she uttered, after a pause. "Happy might be a bit of a stretch. But it's probably important I'm here for a while."

[emmaduerrewatson]

Give me a number. What?

- Lady Bird (2017), dir: Greta Gerwig.

[beaxreyes]

Time alone wasn't exactly something Beatriz found herself coveting, not when her childhood had been lonely enough to last her a lifetime. But for all she loved being surrounded by her roommates and the buzz that was in their home, there were times when she just needed an hour or so to power through work. With the office particularly chatty she'd instead opted for the café nearby, knowing she'd be free from the temptation of getting sucked into her co-workers conversations.

But just as she was about to take a seat a voice caught her attention, causing her to pause with her arm hovering outstretched. "Oh?" Eyes widened slightly in horror, it dawning on her that that was maybe why it was one of the few seats going, pulling her hand away quickly. "Oh. Oh my god, thank you, I've had enough pee on me to last a lifetime already so you're a lifesaver. Did you just wake up this morning and decide you were gonna be someone's hero or is this just an 'all in a days work' kinda thing for you?"

The easy grin that had settled onto her features brightened at the offer, a stroke of luck that she was happy to seize. "That's so kind, thank you." As she manoeuvred herself into the seat she couldn't help but ask after the child that had created the situation. "Was the kid okay?" After plugging in her laptop and organising her space she realised she could repay the kindness she'd been shown in her own way. "Would you like a muffin? I changed my mind halfway through ordering and I didn't have the heart to ask them to change it so I just got them both. The lemon one is really calling my name but if you'd like it over the chocolate chip I'd be willing to part with it. Y'know, since you saved me and all."

[diana-goodwin]

Judging from the way the other girl quickly withdrew from the pee chair, Diana felt justified in having spoken up in the first place, and gave a small smile in return. "Ah, just consider it the golden rule, or whatever," she replied easily. She didn't mention that there was astronomically small chance she would ever be someone's angel, if her entire experience as a preacher's kid had proven. "I would hope someone would do the same for me, you know?"

She shrugged when asked about the small child who'd, at this point, left an hour earlier. "I think they were fine. I don't really have experience with kids, but they were pretty small and it seemed like this is just a thing that happens, sometimes." The mother, for her part, had simply moved into action and addressed the problem before going home, child in tow. "And to be fair, the staff did clean up. But maybe I'm a little bit of a snob about hygiene, or something."

Diana moved her computer, notebook and coffee out from the middle of the table to be closer to where she sat, freeing up room for the other person to put down their belongings and set up their own workspace. At the offering of a muffin, Diana looked up, eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! That's so nice of you, thanks," she replied, eyeing the muffins. "Honestly I'm not that hungry so if you want to split one, I'd be down," she acquiesced. Back home, in the south, Diana had learned that turning down someone's offer of kindness was often considered rude, if not hurtful. So this seemed like a decent compromise. "I'm Diana, by the way. Nice to meet you. What are you working on?"

[grace-goodwin]

Grace watched as Diana mulled over her words, her lips pursing slightly as she considered her sister's question. It felt foolish to think of herself as needing support - her life had become so routine and measured by this point that she had it down to a near-science - the balance of her dad with work with Caleb. It seemed to find its own equilibrium somehow, though she wasn't altogether cognizant of the idea that it happened to find it largely at her expense. "I didn't need someone to have my back, honey," she insisted warmly, her tone knowing - she could imagine Diana worrying, the anxiety gnawing at her in North Carolina. She hated the idea. "I promise. If I wasn't okay, I would tell you. Well - okay, no, that's not true. But I'm sure Caleb would." She rolled her eyes, then, as if to convey her displeasure at the idea.

"Most beautiful girl in the world," Grace retorted matter-of-factly, chomping into a large chip. She chewed, then swallowed, delighted as the waiter approached with their drinks. Thanking him, she leaned forward to take a large sip from her straw, washing the chip down and continuing, "You could wear pajama bottoms for all I care. I haven't even told you the best part of all of this, have I?" Grace spoke conspiratorially, as if she was about to share sacred gossip. "Caleb's dad wants to pay for it."

[diana-goodwin]

Before Grace even finished saying she was fine, they were fine, everything was fine, Diana snorted. Even as Diana had said it, she'd half expected this response from her sister. "Hmm." She poured from the pitcher into her glass, and took a long sip of the margarita. "I guess Caleb telling me if you're not fine remains to be seen, doesn't it?" she asked lightly. Knowing Grace, she'd probably tell him not to tell her. Make him swear to secrecy. "I mean this as nicely as possible," Diana said. "But I'm not a kid anymore. You can tell me when things are bad. I have the bandwidth for it. It wouldn't be hurting me."

Her eyes widened when Grace dropped the bombshell that someone else was going to pay for the wedding. "His dad?" she asked in disbelief. "Isn't that usually the bride's family's job? Did he do that for the other Ashmore wedding?" Her eyebrows rose, and Diana wondered just how much money this man had squirreled away. "What if his budget is shoestring? Or like -- what if he wants really ugly decorations or flowers that stink?"

On one hand, it was a gift not to have to worry how one would finance an event as extravagant as a wedding. On another, someone else holding the purse strings might mean calling the shots. "Is he just going to give you his black card or what?"