TITLE: Crossroads
AUTHOR: Wonko
FANDOM: Guiding Light
RATING: PG for this part
SUMMARY: Natalia needs to make a choice between her past and her future.
TIMELINE: Begins immediately after the episode on the 12th of May and goes off into its own little world at that point.
DEDICATION: This is dedicated to the memory of
badtyler, a great writer and an even better friend.
[
Part 1] [
Part 2] [
Part 3]
Natalia had been living in a small town too long. How else could
she explain the sheer claustrophobia that was sneaking up on her the closer
she got to the place that for so many years she'd considered home?
The traffic made her nervous. She spent the first hour of the drive
through the metropolitan area getting cut up and honked at almost every
five minutes. It was like she'd forgotten how to drive in a city
- and maybe she had. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had
to deal with traffic of more than ten or twenty cars.
Her nerves built with every mile that disappeared under her wheels.
With every passing moment the traffic grew denser, the buildings grew taller,
the crowds grew thicker, and she could feel her palms starting to sweat.
She wiped them on the leg of her jeans when her hands started to slip on
the steering wheel.
She hated this, she realised suddenly. The cars and the noise
and the people and the thunder of the El above her head. Her head
was thumping and she longed to be back at her farmhouse. Her safe,
comfortable and above all quiet farmhouse. With Olivia.
She lost concentration for a fraction of a second as the memory of kissing
Olivia goodbye washed over her, and had to brake hard to avoid rear ending
the car in front of her as it stopped at a red light. It had been
such a simple kiss really - and yet the mere thought of it was enough to
draw all the air from her lungs. Olivia's soft, full lips fluttering
so briefly under hers...
A honk from behind her alerted her to the fact that her light had turned
green and she flushed darkly, holding a hand up in front of her rear view
mirror to apologise. "Sorry!" she called, even though she knew the
other driver couldn't hear her.
She consciously pushed Olivia from her mind for the rest of the drive
and when she pulled up outside a very familiar apartment building on the
Lower West side she sent a quick text then switched her phone off.
She couldn't have any distractions right now.
Her hands shook alarmingly as she gathered her things from the trunk
and slowly climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. Before she was
really ready for it she found herself at the door. She hesitated
for a moment. Should she knock? Or just go in? She knew
the door was never locked when someone was home - she could just walk in
as if the last eighteen years of separation had never happened. As
if there was no bad blood between them at all.
She knocked.
The door opened almost instantly and Natalia had the impression that
her mother had probably been watching her through the peephole. She
blushed. How long had she been standing there dithering on the doorstep?
"You took your time."
Natalia took a step back. She should have expected this, she realised.
When had she ever been able to do anything right after all? It was
foolish to imagine anything but a criticism could drop from this woman's
lips. It's good to see you. Over her dead body.
I missed you Maybe when hell froze over. I'm sorry.
Not if she waited for eternity.
"I had some things to take care of at home," Natalia said.
Her mother flicked back her long dark hair - greying at the roots, Natalia
noticed. That was new. "Well, are you going to stand in the
hallway all day?" She stepped back and disappeared into the apartment,
not waiting to see if her daughter followed. Natalia sighed as she
gathered her things and stepped over the threshold.
Birds flew, fish swam, and Josephine Rivera was rude. Natalia
had long ago accepted that she couldn't help it. There were some
things that would just never change.
* * * * * *
She had arrived at her childhood home over an hour ago and Natalia had so
far managed to avoid speaking to her mother completely - a feat of which
she was almost proud. It took real dedication to avoid another person
in a tiny two bedroom apartment with walls as thin as paper but she had
managed it. Her mother had gone to the living room and Natalia had
retreated to where she felt the most comfortable - the kitchen.
The pantry was well stocked, as were the fridge and freezer. She
could easily whip up a simple, quick meal for them both. But that
would mean she'd have to go and speak to her mother sooner rather than
later, and she knew she'd rather pull her own fingernails out with rusty
pliers.
She found an apron hanging on a hook behind the door, tied it round
her waist and then gathered ingredients and utensils for a lasagne.
She vaguely recalled that her mother liked lasagne, and it would take her
a little while, which was a big plus.
It was so hard to believe that just that morning she'd been in her own
home, in her own kitchen, throwing an unhealthy lunch together for Emma
and quietly looking forward to Olivia coming back - even if she wasn't
quite sure what that meant for her, or for them.
She knew she loved Olivia. She knew it in the same way she knew
that the sky was blue or that grass was green. What was uncertain
was just exactly what she was willing to do to keep storm clouds from turning
that sky grey, or a drought from turning the grass dead and brown.
Could she walk down the street with Olivia without caring if people looked
at them twice? Could she take her hand in public without trembling?
Could she handle people thinking she was a...a-
Lesbian! a voice - a familiar voice, a voice a lot like
Olivia's - in her mind snapped. It's not a dirty
word.
Maybe not, but it wasn't a word she could apply to herself. And
she couldn't help the defensiveness that crept into her heart when she
thought of people assuming that she did. Why wasn't just loving Olivia
enough? Why did it have to come with all this extra confusion?
Because we can't live under a rock, her mind supplied.
No-matter how much you'd like to. Consequences are a fact of life.
You've known that since you were sixteen years old.
With a quick shake of her head she returned her attention to cooking.
"I made you some dinner," she said a little while later, placing a portion
of lasagne carefully on the table next to her mother's armchair.
Josephine glanced at it.
"Too much cheese," she muttered, and returned her attention to the TV.
Natalia sighed as she sank onto the couch. "Please don't start
with this mom," she said, covering her face with her hands.
"Start with what?"
Natalia squeezed her eyes shut. "Just eat the food I put so much
time and effort into making for you, would you? Please?"
There was no reply, but when Natalia heard the scrape of cutlery against
the plate she managed a small smile. That was a start.
TBC...