Chapter Text
It was an unusually cool August evening when it finally happened.
The breeze had a bitterness to it that normally would have kept Jen indoors, and her weather app said it was supposed to thunderstorm, but Judy had insisted on using the hot tub that night - had given Jen those pleading puppy dog eyes that once upon a time she had been able to say no to - but alas, that had changed, so there she was, feet in the hot tub, half-filled wine glass in hand, shoulder bumping against Judy’s as they leaned into each other, Judy laughing at Jen’s account of some smartass remark Charlie had made earlier.
Jen took a swig of the wine, closing her eyes as she breathed in and smelled the citrus-y scent of Judy’s perfume. She allowed herself a moment to savor it - she always allowed herself just one single moment - and then she opened her eyes back up and asked Judy if she needed a refill.
As she was standing in the kitchen pouring Judy her third glass of wine, she tried to center herself by thinking about anything besides the woman sitting just outside the door with her feet in the hot tub, with a tendril of hair blowing back and forth in the breeze, with a smile so haunted by sadness it made Jen’s heart physically ache.
God, she was so fucked.
***
“So, are you like, okay?”
Judy’s head popped up at the question. She had been staring down at the water in the hot tub for a suspiciously long time, and Jen was trying to be better about asking her what was wrong when something clearly was, trying to be better about gently encouraging Judy to share her emotions instead of screaming at her or insulting her or doing any of the other horrible fucking things she’d done in the past.
Judy flashed her signature sad smile at Jen, which made Jen bite her lip to keep from rolling her eyes, because how could Judy think she didn’t see through that bullshit after everything?
“I’m okay, thanks for asking.”
Jen nudged Judy’s arm, bringing her hand down to rest atop Judy’s, lacing their fingers together.
“For someone who lied about killing my husband, you’re actually like, a really bad liar.”
Judy burst out laughing, and Jen just smirked at her.
They were really fucked up, but she kind of didn’t care, and she kind of hoped Ted was rolling in his grave watching his wife make jokes with the woman who (accidentally, mind you) killed him, the woman who had become her best friend, the woman who she had somehow fallen really fucking hard for.
“We’re pretty messed up, aren’t we?”
Jen squeezed her hand. “Yeah, but I’m kind of okay with it.”
Judy smiled at her, and as happy as she was to see Judy smiling, Jen wasn’t letting her get off that easy.
“Seriously, Judes. You’ve seemed off all day. Why don’t you tell me what’s up?”
Judy shrugged. “It’s really stupid.”
Jen narrowed her eyes at her. “Come on Judy, Miss you-have-to-honor-your-feelings and all that shit. I’m sure it’s not stupid. Especially if it’s making you upset.”
Judy’s eyes returned to their place staring at the water, her eyes transfixed on the bubbles surrounding her and Jen’s legs.
“It’s her birthday.”
“Whose, babe?”
“My mom’s.”
Jen just squeezed Judy’s hand again, waiting to see if Judy would elaborate. Judy rarely brought up Eleanor - but when she did, Jen immediately flashed back to her screaming in Judy’s face about how stupid she was for loving that dreadful woman, and the guilt was so crushing she couldn’t get air into her lungs, didn’t even want to - wanted to let herself feel the pain, because she deserved to feel pain for saying such shitty fucking things to the one living being in the world who loved her unconditionally.
But Judy wouldn’t want her to feel pain, so she forced herself to keep it together as she caressed Judy’s hand with her fingers, gently encouraging her to continue.
“Her birthday is like, one of the few genuinely good memories I have of her. Of us. She loved her birthday. She usually wasn’t high on her birthday, and she was usually home.”
Judy shrugged as she continued. “Those two things rarely happened on their own, let alone simultaneously.”
“Jeez, Judes. I’m so sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t be sorry. These are good memories, remember?”
Judy hiccuped as she took another sip of her wine - it was her third glass, and she was such a goddamn lightweight. “There was one birthday - I was probably 10 or 11 - where I convinced the neighbor to take me to the store while my mom was out, and I got cake mix and frosting and sprinkles, and I worked so hard making this cake for her, wrote ‘Happy Birthday Mom’ in frosting on it and everything, and when she came home, she was so happy that there was cake - I remember she lifted me up and spun me around in her arms and kissed my head and told me what a good girl I was. She was so excited, and she was proud of me, and for a couple hours, I felt like we were normal. Like we were a real family who celebrated birthdays like you’re supposed to, with candles and cake and love.”
Judy sniffled, and Jen just kept caressing her hand, worried she’d sob if she tried to speak right now.
“Anyway, I am okay. I’m just. I don’t know. I know it’s silly, but I wish I could celebrate one more birthday with her. Make one more good memory.”
Jen smiled at her sadly, reaching up to brush the tendril of hair out of Judy’s face that she’d been staring at all night. “I don’t think that’s silly, babe.”
“Yeah, you do. But that’s okay.”
Jen hesitated, not sure what kind of territory they were entering, not sure if Judy was making an off-hand comment or if she was calling Jen out on her shit.
“No, I really don’t think it’s silly at all. I think it’s fucking brave that you wish you could celebrate with your mom. After all the shit she put you through, and you still want to do something nice for her?”
Jen reached her hand up, cupping Judy’s cheek, gently lifting her eyes to meet hers, needing Judy to really understand that she wasn’t just placating her, but was being really fucking honest - probably the most honest she’s ever been in her life.
“You are the best fucking person I know, okay? And the kindest, and the bravest, and every other good thing - you’re it. You beat everyone else at just, like, being the best.”
So maybe Jen was already on her fourth glass and maybe she wasn’t being the most eloquent right now, so she really tried to focus on Judy’s eyes, and on conveying what she was feeling by looking into them. Which was really fucking corny but if that’s what it took for Judy to understand that she thought she was like, the fucking sun and stars and all that shit, then so be it.
Judy’s eyes shone with unshed tears, and she reached up to dab at her eyes, whispering “Thank you, Jen” so quietly that Jen almost didn’t hear her.
“I love you. You know that.”
Judy smiled. “I do.”
“Okay. Good.”
Judy smiled wider. “Great.”
A beat passed, and then “But like, how much do you love me?”
“Oh Christ, Judy. A lot, okay?”
Judy laughed. “Nah, that’s not good enough. I need details. Maybe a metaphor? Or song lyrics that convey your undying love for me?”
“I take it all back. I hate you so fucking much.”
“If only that were true. You looooove me.”
“Yeah, too much,” said Jen quietly, hesitantly.
Three-glasses-of-wine-in Judy suddenly had both of her hands on either side of four-glasses-of-wine-in Jen’s face, and Jen closed her eyes, bracing for the impact of wanton yearning or blissful fulfillment, she wasn’t sure which (she wasn’t sure which she wanted it to be).
She opened her eyes, prepared to either face her fears and jump off this ledge with Judy, or run away and go to sleep dreaming of brunette locks and hippie dresses and the scent of weed mixed with chamomile.
Hell, she might as well nudge this in the direction that her subconscious desperately wants it to go in.
“You know, if I hadn’t finished off the bottle of cabernet, I might be able to think of some metaphors like you requested.”
Jen squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Fucking shit.
“But I can do you one better.”
She leaned in, eyes still closed, silently begging Judy to meet her halfway, to hold her hand while they leaped off the cliff, to look at all the fucking shit this year had thrown at them and look at how they made it out on the other side and to think about what that means, what it could mean.
Judy’s lips met hers, soft and warm amidst the cold evening breeze, and Jen couldn’t help but grin, the wine and Judy’s mouth combining to bring her the most peace she has felt in literal years.
And Jen may not have been able to think of a metaphor, but the skies decided to help her out with a crack of thunder and a smattering of rain drops, because after this shitstorm of a year, they deserved to kiss in the rain, dammit.
Judy pulled back, and Jen instantly missed her lips, craved the feeling of love and safety and hope that they’d brought her.
“Thank you, Jen.”
“For what, babe? Kissing you? Making you stay out here and get rained on?”
“For giving me the good memory I needed today. For giving me all the good memories a gal could have.”
Jen wiped raindrops off of Judy’s face, brushing that persistent tendril of hair out of her face once more. “You deserve good memories.”
“Should we...make some more good memories inside? You see, I’ve got this bed right over there in the guest house…”
Jen grinned. “Damn Judy, I kiss you one time and you’re trying to get me into bed already?”
“What can I say, the heart wants what it wants.”
“Fine, but no metaphors or song lyrics or any of that shit, like, during.”
Judy laughed. “Buckle up, Harding. I’ll have you serenading me with love songs by morning.”
***