A Spot on the Beach, Saturday Late Evening

[thismaskiwear]

Katchoo had, by some twist of fate or sick joke on the part of the universe, managed to completely miss seeing Francine at all since she'd woken up this morning, and wasn't even aware Francine was at the reunion; she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to ask. She left her current phone number with Francine's mother whenever she moved or changed phones, but that had, for the better part of the last couple of decades, been the extent of her contact with her erstwhile best friend.

She'd spent the day wandering the island, checking out her old haunts and taking time out every now and then to field a call from Rosa and make arrangements for her latest gallery showing, and it was well after dark by the time she made it down to the beach.

Katchoo didn't set foot on beaches much these days, living in Santa Fe as she did, and they were tied up in some bittersweet memories for her. Not that it stopped her from taking a moment to just stand there, looking out across the reflection of moonlight on the waves, and thinking back. She might be mellower now than she'd been in her high school days, but she hadn't broken the habit of brooding yet, and wasn't about to start now.

[OOC: For one, la. Re PB, yes, I think I'm hilarious and thatsamilkshake encouraged me.]

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[thatsamilkshake]

Air. One gin and tonic had turned into three and...something pink with glitter in it that may or may not have been meant to be drunk - much like Francine. Air would be good.

How air turned into a walk from the community center all the way to the beach, she didn't know, much like how she didn't know how she even made it there without tripping a million times, while the sounds and sights of a Fandom that wasn't even here anymore blew past her ears in the wind. Maybe it was because it almost felt like someone was holding her hand...

He was so sweet though - he even offered to build me a castle... Would you hate me if I kissed you? I'll hate you if you don't...

Francine stopped that thought where it started, and stopped herself as well, on a rock overlooking the sea, the wind blowing her hair from her face and her hand scrubbing the past away from her eyes while she paused.

Or maybe not, because the fuzzy picture when she opened them was nothing she'd seen in fifteen years or more. Down there by the water, a small, slim figure with her back turned, long yellow hair glowing pale in the moonlight.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Said small, slim figure didn't turn around, no.

She was a little too engrossed in her own thoughts for such things, sadly -- the sound of the waves kept bringing her back to the house in Hana, with David and with Emma before that, and then back to Fandom in a kind of vicious loop of places she'd lived and people she'd loved, then lost.

Anyone watching closely enough might, not that Katchoo would realize it, be able to see her shoulders lift slightly then drop in a clear impression of a sigh.

[thatsamilkshake]

It probably wasn't her. It was some new kid at the school -- they were all new to Francine; she didn't want to think about how many had been through here since she'd left. Or someone back for the reunion who just looked like her -- at this distance it could be... what had her name been? Gabrielle?

That slump of the shoulders, though, like they'd slumped so long ago when Francine had tucked her legs into the limo, wedding gown wrapped around them, her dad holding that useless umbrella over her head while she pretended she wasn't looking back...

I don't care. Marry him. Have kids. Buy a Suburban. I don't care. Even soccer moms need a friend to have coffee and bagels with once in a while. I'll be your coffee friend...

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

You can't even come to my wedding without punching out the best man.

Why was that coming to mind now, even if it was still a viscerally satisfying memory? (Just not quite satisfying enough.)

It wasn't raining out, and she wasn't standing across the street from the limo in front of the church, feeling water trickle down her scalp and along her spine and into her shoes, not caring if she was cold and soaked and freezing. Not wishing that damn Billy Joel song would stop running through her head (but you can make decisions too, and you can have this heart to break).

Fandom had been one of the few places she'd been honest-to-god happy. The reason why was hard to shake, wrapped up as it was in the island itself, and sometimes Katchoo felt like as long as she was here, if she just turned around at the right time she might catch a glimpse of the past --

But that was stupid, wasn't it? Just a dumb bit of wishful thinking.

[thatsamilkshake]

What if she called out? What harm could it do? The worst that could happen was that some stranger would look up and yell GESUNDHEIT at her, right?

Or maybe that was the best that could happen, and yet Francine was raising her hand to wave anyway, her mouth open to call, "K--"

Whatever pitiful squeak had started to emerge was drowned out by the buzzing of her cell phone in her coat pocket. Francine yanked it out and looked down to read the display before flipping it open -- then waited another moment to find her breath before saying, "Mom? It's late; is something wrong?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo hadn't heard that. She hadn't heard anything but the sound of the ocean and the stupid persistent song playing on a loop in her brain, and she'd made up her mind that really, enough was enough.

Why stay here on the beach and get lost in her own maudlin thoughts? She had plenty enough time for that at home, and there were people she -- surprise -- actually wanted to check up on while she was here.

Silently, unaware of any momentarily distracted observers in the darkness, she got up and trailed along the edge of the water for a while before heading back up to the road and into town.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Is that all? I signed the permission slip already; it's on the desk in the family room. Tell her -- oh. Well, give her a kiss from me in the morning, th--"

Why Francine looked up at that point and not sooner or later, she couldn't say, but she couldn't say much of anything now, looking at the dark and empty beach. There was nobody there at all, and Francine found herself wondering if there ever had been.

"Honey?"

She leaned back against the guiderail behind her, throat too tight to answer, still.

"Francine, dear, is everything okay?"

Eyes closed against the sight of the empty shore and voice so strained that it cracked halfway through the first word, she finally answered, "Oh, Momma. It's not. It's so not."