Chapter Text
This was not the person Lin had expected when opening her door after midnight.
“Pema?”
“Hey there,” she replied.
“It’s raining outside, what are you doing here?”
Pema glanced out from under her rain jacket. “Uhm, can I come in?”
Lin peered over Pema’s shoulder, expecting Tenzin to show up, accompanied by at least two children, because the pair of them somehow never managed to be without those little humans for longer than three hours.
“He’s not coming, I’m alone.”
Lin frowned and wondered whether everyone knew what she was thinking or if it was some motherly gift Pema possessed. She stepped back and allowed Tenzin’s wife to walk inside. When she closed the door and Pema pulled back the hood of her jacket, Lin caught some droplets on her cheek. She wiped them away, instructing Pema to leave the wet coat in the hallway and her shoes on the carpet there.
“Sure, sorry,” Pema muttered when she had discarded the items.
“Tea?” Lin proposed, unsure of how to proceed.
Pema nodded and Lin walked into her kitchen.
“So,” Lin asked when they had sat down at the kitchen table, tea steaming between them, “What are you doing here?”
They were closer than they ever had been. Close enough that Lin hadn’t thought much about letting her inside. It was, however, puzzling that Pema was here in the first place.
Pema brushed away a few wet strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Then she breathed deeply and put her cup down. “Uhm, I think I did something stupid. Well, I know it’s stupid, but I just, you know, when I was a girl – not a girl, but not an adult either, you know, at that weird age, when you’re scared you’ll never be able to be a good adult and all but then you find out that nobody really knows what they’re doing or how to be an adult-“ she stopped talking when she saw the irritated look on Lin’s face. “Right,” she continued, “You probably know what I mean. So, I promised myself – back then – that I would always do something that gave me freedom.”
“Freedom?” Lin asked, incredulous – nothing about Pema screamed freedom.
“Yeah, anyway, I kind of forgot about that, because when I met Tenzin everything felt possible. It felt like I could do anything. And we had so many plans!”
Lin looked down at her cup.
She remembered that time. Less exciting for her.
“We were going to travel and live that nomadic life that he always told me about, the way his father’s family had, and he wanted to show me the world and we were going to help people and learn about their lives and their culture and then we were going to have our kids and they were going to grow up in different places and with different languages and cultures surrounding them, showing them that this is what life is about, you know, connections to others and other cultures.”
Lin was sipping her tea, wondering where on earth this was going.
“But then, a few months before we wanted to leave, I found out that I was pregnant with Jinora.”
Suddenly Pema’s excited smile dropped to a sad one.
“I love Jinora, I love her to bits and Ikki and Meelo and my little Rohan. You know how much I love them,” Pema urged.
“Of course,” Lin said. She knew no one else who was as invested and loving. Pema was an amazing mother, and a few decades ago Lin had wondered if it was something someone could learn. She had long since come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t have been happy learning it.
“I love all of them so much,” Pema sighed, resting her forehead in her hands.
“So what stupid thing did you do?” Lin tried to get her back on track.
“A few weeks ago, Ikki had this questionnaire she had to fill out. You know, she has such a hard time deciding what she wants to do now that she’s done with school and this career advisor recommended her to write a letter about all the things she would ask herself if she could time travel and meet herself in twenty years.”
“How old would she be then?” Lin interjected.
“She would be almost forty then,” Pema chuckled, “I can’t even imagine that. Can you?”
Lin shook her head, “She still looks like she’s twelve to me.”
Pema smiled, “Sometimes she looks at me just like she did when she was a toddler. I swear it makes me emotional every time.”
Lin took a sip of her tea, feeling it warm her. “Did you help her? How come the girl who’s always asking questions needs help with an assignment like that?”
Pema shrugged her shoulders, cradling her cup. “She said she didn’t know how to start and that she would find more questions if she just found the first few.”
Lin hummed.
“And then I asked her what she wanted to do with her life and Ikki said she had no idea.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she said she wanted to do so many things and see the world and be somewhere other than just Republic City.”
Lin could imagine Ikki being happy quite literally anywhere in the world.
“And then she had this bright look in her eyes, and she jumped up and ran to her room and the next morning she showed me the list of questions she had written.” Pema sighed, “Have you seen the dancing lights?” she repeated them to Lin, “Have you seen a volcano? Have you looked into the crater of the volcano? Have you learned how to steer a boat? Have you walked along the big mountains in the earth kingdom? She couldn’t remember the name,” Pema chuckled, “Did you sleep in a tent? Did you see the night sky without any light pollution? And there were so many more questions.”
Lin listened patiently. Soon, Pema had finished spilling her worries, had finished talking about how she had seen herself in her daughter and all the excitement and aspiration and how she wondered if there was something she missed out on by becoming a mother so early.
“So the stupid thing was helping your daughter with an exercise, because it made you re-think your life choices?”
“No,” Pema laughed and to Lin it sounded a little too close to panicking, “No, the stupid thing was talking to Jinora and then telling Tenzin that- Spirits, I’m so stupid, this is stupid right? This is- I’m going insane.” Pema ran her hands through her hair and looked at Lin as though she had any answers.
Lin raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” she tried, “How about we go and sit on the couch?”
Pema didn’t answer, she simply sat up and followed Lin through the apartment.
“So, what did you tell him?” she asked once they had settled, quite honestly very intrigued.
“I- I told him I was leaving.”
“Leaving where?”
“No, leaving him.”
Now this Lin had not expected. She sat there, wide-eyed, jaw slack, trying to form words, questions, anything, while Pema watched her process. What? When? Why? Yes, why? The two of them were the perfect couple. She hadn’t seen much of them in the past months, a lot of work and overtime, so she hadn’t been over for the last bi-yearly dinner. Tenzin hadn’t spoken of any problems either. She sometimes met up with him for lunch after meetings they had together, busy as always.
“I freaked you out,” Pema said, hands folded under her chin. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Uhm, yes,” Lin collected her thoughts, “Why- why did you come here?”
“Because I don’t know where else to go. I don’t have friends who understand this. I don’t have anyone who knows him and doesn’t worship him for the things he has done for the community. I don’t want to burden Jinora with it, she might be grown but I don’t want to make my problems her own.”
Lin blinked a few times, still trying her hardest to process. Why did she leave him?
“Why did you leave him?”
Pema got up to pace around and Lin watched – wondering if she had made the wrong tea because Pema looked nowhere near ‘calmed and tranquil’ as the box had promised.
“It wasn’t working anymore,” Pema sighed.
“What do you mean? You two were fine a year ago at dinner and Tenzin hasn’t said anything either. He seemed just like always last time I talked to him.”
She simply couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“No, not like that, it was working for him. Just…not for me anymore. I told him he should quit his job, have been telling him for over two years. That’s when it all started changing, I guess. I told him he should retire. We have all the money we need, our kids are mostly grown now and, I mean, Rohan is still a little young, but he’s already so smart and reads these psychology books. But he’s still so young. And he was younger a few years ago, so I thought it would sort itself out, that I might start feeling content again. When I brought it up again a year ago, Tenzin said he wouldn’t retire and that he wanted to do more and more and he suggested maybe getting a hobby or two would be good. I told him I didn’t want that, but he just…he never listened.”
Lin was still perplexed, but started remembering how he had once called her one night asking if he was affecting any change and if it would matter if he stopped. She had told him that there was always change to bring and things to improve. She had also told him that he wasn’t the only one working towards a better world. When she had asked why he had called, he hadn’t answered.
“So you left,” Lin finally understood.
“He wouldn’t listen,” Pema hissed, “He stopped listening to me.”
Lin was startled by the change, but she kept quiet and seconds later Pema’s shoulders relaxed and she sat back down. “Sorry.”
Lin simply poured Pema more tea. “I don’t mean listen as in following commands, you know. I just mean that he only ever talked about the next project and he was never home, not like he used to be with the kids. I told him we could travel just like he had promised we would all those years ago. And he just always stared at me like I was delusional. He said that there was nothing out there that we didn’t have in Republic City and that we should wait until Rohan was older because he has his roots here and I understand that, I do, but that’s not what we set out for. I talked to Jinora because…well, you know her, she picks up on everything, even if she doesn’t live at home anymore and she wondered why I was so quiet all the time. I hadn’t even noticed anything, but she had.”
Lin smiled. Jinora was still just a girl to her, but she had grown into a competent and admirable young woman with her own life. She was twenty-two already. They talked on the phone sometimes when Jinora needed certain advice (somehow, she came to her) and they usually sat next to each other during the dinners.
“She asked ‘Why don’t you just do it by yourself?’. I told her that wasn’t possible. Could you imagine?”
Lin shook her head.
“No,” Pema tried again, “I mean, do you think you could do it?”
She thought about it for a moment. “Every now and again, after some tough cases, I wonder if I made a mistake, taking over as Chief and not choosing an easier profession, or simply staying at a lower rank, but I always come back to the same conclusion: I don’t regret it. As for the traveling… maybe I’ll do it once I’m retired, but I think I will be fine even if I don’t.”
“See,” Pema sighed, “I don’t think I would be. I know- I know I won’t be. So I talked to him again, told him I wanted to leave for a while, you know, to explore – that was about a year ago. He told me that I could simply pick up a new hobby – again. He hasn’t been…he’s different. I don’t know why I didn’t notice. Did you? Does he seem different to you?”
Lin shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think about him as much. I only ever see him for lunch. Maybe once a month.”
“Did you know he’s been working more and more,” Pema chuckled wryly, “Sometimes I think he wants to escape me.”
“Pema…”
“Maybe not me, but the boringness. It’s different when the kids are older. Now it’s mostly just little Rohan. Meelo is seventeen and Ikki nineteen, so they do their own thing and we’re lucky if we see them at breakfast or when coming back from a friend’s house to pick up their training clothes for their Aikido classes. I’ve heard the other parents talk about how their relationship changed the older they got, but it’s different to actually experience it. Jinora isn’t home anymore. She’s busy building her career and a life with Kai.”
Lin hummed, showing she was listening.
“I just- I brought it up to Tenzin so many times. How unhappy I was, how I wanted to explore things outside of being… Lin, you know I love being a mother, but I haven’t done anything for myself in decades. And I just- how am I supposed to do anything for myself when I take care of everything at home. If he’s home, he’s so tired all the time and I’m- I felt like I was wasting my time.”
Pema sighed.
“Spirits, I sound so cruel. And I did do other things, trust me, I tried. I really tried. I did go to a museum once or twice when I wasn’t drained of energy from housework. I played pai-sho with some strangers in a park. But everywhere I went… people were living a different life and it intrigued me. And everyone told me about their travels. I still wanted all that. Then I stopped minding when he stayed away late, I didn’t care if I slept alone for a night or two when he was at the office. I got used to-“ Pema stopped, looking at her and then with a quiet voice she confessed, as if it were the most shameful thing in the world, “I got used to being without him.”
Lin waited.
“I got used to it to a point where it felt wrong to have him there. I sound horrible, don’t I? But I couldn’t- Not anymore.”
And that was when Lin – for the first time that evening – saw how truly exhausted the woman seemed. She had bags under her eyes and what seemed to be a constant frown. Lin hadn’t noticed, too busy trying to listen to everything she had said.
“So you left him.”
“Yeah. Stupid, right? I should go back and tell him I wasn’t thinking, right?”
“When did you tell him?” Lin asked softly, noticing how the adrenaline rush seemed to wear down.
“Last week,” Pema whispered.
“And you left then, too?”
“Mhm.”
The helpless look in Pema’s features tugged at Lin’s heart.
“Do you want to go back?” she asked softly.
It was quiet for a long time, just the two of them looking at each other, Lin trying to be patient and wait, Pema looking at her as though the answer sat in Lin’s face.
Then Pema slowly shook her head. “I don’t.”
“Okay,” Lin said, “Then you don’t go back.”
She surprised herself. When had she become someone who meddled in other people’s business? Was this a terrible idea? Should she tell Pema to go back? Tenzin was her best friend, but Pema… Pema looked burdened in a way Lin had never noticed.
Suddenly she could see a tear falling down Pema’s round cheeks, “Where am I going to go now? I can’t stay at that hotel forever. I don’t even know how much money I have or, or if I can take anything from our bank account.”
Lin put down her cup, hesitantly taking one of Pema’s hands in hers. She felt such pity for the woman. What on earth had happened to Tenzin and her? “You can sleep here tonight,” Lin offered.
“What?”
“I have a guest room,” she swallowed, “I don’t have anyone over anyway.”
“You never do,” Pema chuckled.
“Keep it up and you can go back to the hotel,” Lin said calmly.
Pema looked at her surprised for a moment and Lin was scared she would cry harder, but Pema began to chuckle through the tears. “Okay,” she nodded. “It truly isn’t an inconvenience to you?”
Lin sighed. “I don’t think I want to drive you through that weather and I can’t in good conscience send you to drive back there yourself, so you’re doing everyone a favour.”
Pema squeezed Lin’s hand. “Okay. Thank you so much.”
And so she stayed in the guest room.
Lin offered she could stay for the rest of the week while sorting out her living situation. The next day Lin went to work and came back to Pema having prepared a nice dinner as a general ‘thank you’ once more. Lin made it clear that she was grateful that the food was delicious as all of Pema’s cooking, but that she had to adhere to a certain meal plan in order to manage her rather active life, so she would cook for the two of them. Pema nodded, surprised – after all, she had cooked two to three meals a day for the past twenty years.
One night, Lin found Pema crying in the kitchen, trying to make some tea in the middle of the night.
“Pema?” she shielded her eyes from the harsh kitchen lamp.
Pema turned around, quickly wiping the tears away. “Sorry,” she choked out, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What’s wrong?” Lin asked, turning off the light. The streetlights were bright enough to shine through the windows and show enough of Pema’s face to see that there were new tears running down her cheeks.
“He wasn’t happy,” Pema answered. “I didn’t notice, because I was so focused on myself, but he wasn’t happy.”
Lin walked over to a drawer, taking out some tissues.
“Thank you,” Pema croaked, taking them to blow her nose for a moment.
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t thought about him and I this intensively in so long… everything was… I thought I had thought of everything, every possible scenario months ago… before deciding to-“
“To leave him,” Lin supplied when Pema wouldn’t finish the sentence.
She nodded. “I don’t think he was happy. He was when we got together but looking back at the past ten years… he feels… he felt relieved more than anything. Not happy. I didn’t even notice. And I- I think he can’t be by himself either. And all these- Lin my head hurts so much,” Pema cried, pressing her fingers against her temples. “I’m so stupid. All he ever wanted was a family. What if he didn’t even want me?“
“Of course he wanted you,” Lin scoffed. “How can you say that?”
Pema looked at her.
“He loved you, probably still loves you. I remember how he was back then. That’s something you never have to worry about.”
“But I wasn’t even a person yet,” Pema chuckled incredulously, “I had done nothing, had experienced nothing.”
Lin kept quiet.
“He wanted a family, Lin.”
Lin swore she heard the undertone of ‘not me’ in between those sad words.
Lin approached her, turning off the boiling water. “And you are part of that family.” She glanced down at Pema’s midriff. “A crucial one, if I paid any attention in biology class.”
Pema sniffled, but couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped her as she let her head fall against Lin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this,” she whispered against Lin’s nightshirt, “I’m such a mess right now.”
Lin smiled in sympathy, bringing a hand up to awkwardly rub Pema’s other shoulder. “I think that’s more than warranted in a situation like this.”
Pema looked up at the woman she had somehow known would understand, despite never having been married – the only woman who could have possibly understood her situation.
“Thank you.”
One week turned into two and Lin kept offering for Pema to stay, since she didn’t need the guest room for anything or anyone else. After a few weeks, the offer didn’t need to be said out loud.
And soon, Lin found herself sitting at her kitchen table, looking at the calendar and remembering the contents of the latest required staff communication and lifestyle seminar she had attended.
Lin had learned that it took 66 days on average to form a new habit. That was about two months and a week. That was how long Pema had been staying with her now. She wasn’t quite able to deny that yes, they had found a routine. Pema had offered to take over some chores and Lin reluctantly let her do her own laundry. Pema kept joking about how it wasn’t much different to living in a hotel and Lin kept rolling her eyes.
Lin liked to cook, and she especially liked following her meal plan, so Pema contented herself with the – as she liked to call it – ‘scarily healthy’ diet. It didn’t stop her from regularly sneaking cake or other sweets into the apartment and she never complained when half of her stock mysteriously disappeared (not that Lin would ever admit to stealing it, though she was quite good at burying evidence, so it never really came up in conversation).
Pema loved fruit. Fruit had never been something Lin paid much attention to, but she had quickly been forced to do so, since the amount of fruit in her kitchen had been increasing steadily. First there had been less room in the cooler for her string beans, broccoli and other vegetables she always stored en masse. Instead she had found frozen raspberries, blueberries, tons of frozen mango and papaya one day. In the kitchen she had discovered a fruit bowl, about a month in.
She had told Pema to get whatever she liked to eat since the woman had kept insisting on food shopping for the two of them. Lin had given in. The fruit bowl consisted of bananas, all sorts of apples, and citrus fruit. After a while, a second bowl had appeared – Lin hadn’t minded, since she herself always forgot to eat fruit and her doctor had complained about some vitamin levels. The second bowl had been filled with peaches, nectarines, apricots and plums.
Pema had put the bowls in different corners of the kitchen and scolded Lin for putting them next to each other for aesthetic and tidiness reasons. Lin had asked about it and Pema had told her how some fruits and vegetables emitted some sort of gas that could quicken the ripening process. (She was glad Pema seemed to have her fruit catalogued in her head, because Lin would have been too lazy to look it up. She had however understood why her previous attempts at fruit-keeping had always ended in over ripe fruit and sometimes even mold. It was one of the reasons she had given up on the delicious things – too much effort). But with Pema there, she had re-discovered the joy of biting into the sweetest of peaches and the most refreshing melons. She’d tried to find out how Pema always found the best selection, but Pema said she simply had an eye for it.
Lin wasn’t complaining either way.
Pema spent most of her days discovering the cities and driving the children around, to school, to aikido lessons, to friends. Jinora had helped her explain what was going on to the others. Tenzin tried to talk to her as little as possible, but they managed to handle things. He was still confused and angry and Pema didn’t want to push him. She knew this was nowhere near easy for him. He had to take care of his own food and household now. She knew he had little time for it with work and she reckoned he would hire a cleaning company sooner or later. Rohan had the hardest time adjusting. He was still younger than the others and didn’t quite understand why mom and dad weren’t talking or why mom didn’t live at home right now. Every time she took him anywhere or spent the afternoon at the park with him, he asked when she would be coming home, but after the first month, he had understood more and more.
Pema and Lin had also made a habit of talking about their days over dinner. Lin had begun to go home from work on time – something that increasingly worried her: she enjoyed leaving on time to come home and talk about her day and listen to Pema’s discoveries.
Pema had even asked Lin once to show her some exercises she could do, because not having to do all of the chores (for six people) gave her enough energy to want to try out even that. “Make sure your knees don’t push out over your toes,” Lin instructed, pushing them back slightly.
“I can’t believe this exercise alone is so difficult,” Pema groaned as she pushed herself to stand again.
“Squats are a very complex movement. People don’t realize it,” she smirked.
“But it looks so easy when you do them,” Pema complained, “Show me again!”
Lin chuckled, but complied, demonstrating three slow squats while Pema watched her intently (she had never been so aware of someone watching her form).
“Now you try.”
Pema did. It looked much better already.
“A natural,” Lin joked.
Pema let out a half-laugh half-grunt and Lin smiled.
She reached out to put her hand on Pema’s lower back, “Make sure to go slow and keep your spine straight.”
Pema nodded, groaning again.
“Straight, not rigid.”
When Lin noticed her hunching forward a little more, she tried to reach for Pema’s elbow, but her hand accidentally swept along the side of Pema’s breast.
“Sorry!” Lin apologized immediately, “I didn’t mean to touch there, I wanted your elbow.”
“I hardly noticed,” Pema chuckled, waving Lin off, “Don’t worry about it.”
Lin however spent the rest of the lesson worrying… maybe not worrying, rather thinking. She showed Pema reverse lunges, making very sure not to accidentally touch any other places that might make Pema uncomfortable. Thankfully, she was able to blame her ever-present blush on the workout.
After the workout Pema had a light sheen of sweat on face and neck and a few strand hairs stuck to her forehead.
“That was- I’m so exhausted. I don’t know how you do this every day,” Pema panted as Lin brought her a glass of water.
She huffed a laugh, “Well, I have been at it for a little while longer and I’ve always been athletic.”
Pema stood straight and let her eyes roam over Lin’s body thoughtfully. Lin felt a tingling sensation run down her spine.
“You’re probably right,” Pema conceded, “I don’t think I know anyone who has that many muscles. Well, maybe the kid’s Aikido trainer,” Pema grinned, “He’s got some, too.”
Lin nodded, because it seemed appropriate, but she caught herself thinking if maybe Pema liked hers better than- what? No, not going there.
Yes, Lin had gotten quite used to having Pema around. Pema was more energetic than Lin had ever seen her and she loathed to admit that it was beginning to affect her, too, making her chuckle more, late night conversations over a glass of wine, bringing up old dreams – the ones that everyone knew were silly and irrational, but the ones she used to think about when she was young. Pema listened to her stories about arrests and her thoughts on books she read.
They had made a habit of reading together on the weekends. Sometimes Pema read a book that Lin had read a while ago and they exchanged their opinions.
They agreed that most contemporary romance books seemed superficial, that crime was not a genre they enjoyed; Pema, because she didn’t like violence or the images those books induced in her head and Lin because her life was one long crime novel. They disagreed on how long a book could get before it got too long and always found a way to compromise so the both of them had a satisfying reading experience.
Pema laughed, “This feels like a book club.”
Lin smiled.
“I’ve never been part of a book club.”
Lin shrugged her shoulders, “Me neither.”
Pema told Lin about all the advancements of her children and Lin found herself wondering about the kids throughout her day. Pema let her in on all the school gossip, on the things she had heard about the other parents and every time they talked about any of it, they both agreed that it wasn’t mean-spirited but simply entertaining to them and therefore surely not a problem if they amused themselves a little. Lin had never been one to gossip, but the way Pema re-told the stories was captivating. Gesturing about, imitating the other parents’ voices and their pretentious attitude. It was silly in a way that Lin had nothing else to think of other than the ridiculousness of parents indirectly competing over who prepared the best lunch for their children.
Pema had been good at following Lin’s only rule of not having the children over at the apartment for longer than necessary, but when Lin ran into them anyway, they were always nice and sometimes Lin didn’t mind Ikki staying for dinner so she could hear about the art projects she was doing with her friends and Lin in turn told her about a few books she had read on the exact topic Ikki brought up. Pema always thanked her for her patience and Lin reassured her it wasn’t a big deal to her.
So, yes, Lin thought. Maybe sixty-six days were enough to get used to a different reality.
(Pema thought so, too. Lin had asked her about it while they had been washing the dishes one evening.
“I think we work well together.” Pema had smiled at her shyly. “Feels very much like a lot of habits bunched together by now.”
Lin had sighed almost theatrically, “I’m not so sure I like those habits…There is way too much fruit in my kitchen.”
This had prompted Pema to throw the dishtowel in her direction and Lin had simply chuckled.)
Weeks later, Pema stopped Lin in the kitchen when she had just come back from the market.
“Lin, we have to talk.”
“Sure,” she replied, beginning to unpack the groceries from her backpack. When Pema didn’t say anything further, Lin looked up at her, “You wanted to talk?”
“Right,” Pema conceded, “I feel like I’m overstaying my welcome and I should start looking for my own place.”
Lin halted only momentarily but kept unpacking the groceries.
She should be glad, she knew that.
“Lin?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Pema asked as Lin began stocking the fridge with vegetables.
“What do you want me to say?” Lin asked calmly, holding back about how it had been nice to have someone around; someone to talk to about lost goals and thoughts; someone to sit in silence with; someone to cook with (to cook for); someone to smile at her when she came home (it was quite ridiculous just how content it made her).
“Lin, I’ve been here for nearly four months. I was only supposed to stay for one night, maybe two. You have done so much for me and I can’t even pay you for it.”
“Not like I need the money,” Lin grumbled.
“Besides the point, Lin.”
“Then what is your point?” Lin said, suddenly much louder.
Pema was taken aback by Lin’s strong reaction and her face must have shown as much, because a shadow of regret flashed over Lin’s features before she turned and left the kitchen, half the food still on the table. When she came back from a hot shower, dressed in her pyjamas, Pema sat on the couch, reading a book.
“I didn’t mean to…” Lin began, but lost the courage to finish the apology.
“Come here,” Pema urged after a moment of silence and Lin sat down on the sofa next to her. “I don’t really understand what I said to make you run off this time.”
Lin smiled apologetically and suddenly it felt wrong to sit this far away from her. They often sat on the sofa together, at least they had in the past two weeks. Ever since Pema had one day, while they had both been reading, put her legs over Lin’s lap, saying she needed to ‘stretch them a little’. Lin had noticed the wicked smile and instantly recognized it as a joke, but she had ignored it and simply gone back to reading her book. From then on, Pema had done it again and again until it had become an almost natural position for the two of them.
But now they were sitting as far apart as the furniture allowed and Lin didn’t want to admit how wrong it felt.
Now Pema wanted to leave.
“Are you going to look for apartments?”
Pema shrugged her shoulders. “Or I could buy one of those vans and make it into a home.”
Lin raised a brow. “A van?”
“Yeah,” Pema smiled, “Like in that video Jinora sent me. It was that couple living in one of those vans and traveling around.”
“You really want to do that? By yourself?”
Pema sighed, “I probably won’t. I’m not as courageous as I imagined I would be once I left him. I’m scared to really do anything on my own.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t yet,” Lin offered, instantly reprimanding herself for how selfish it was to suggest it. A few months ago she would have told Pema that she could do more alone than she might think, that her skills exceeded the ones of being someone’s wife (because they did). “You’ve got time, you can explore the outskirts of the city a little before leaving anywhere.”
“I’ve already done that,” Pema smiled, “When you’re at work, I don’t just sit around all day, you know.”
Lin felt the blush creeping onto her face, “Right, of course. I know, I didn’t think you were doing that.”
“I know,” Pema leaned over to squeeze her hand and then drew back, “I tell you about every noticeable place I find.”
“You do,” Lin sighed, “I know, I remember. I promise I listen,” she said apologetically, “I’m just tired today.”
“Lin, all I’m saying is, I’ve seen the things there are to see here. Meelo and Rohan showed me some secret spots, I’ve been to all the museums. I need to go out there and, you know, get some courage.”
“You’re more courageous than you think, Pema. I don’t think I could have left the way you did.”
Pema chuckled, “Of course you would have. I know you better now, remember?”
Lin nodded. Pema did know her better. Concerningly well, Lin thought. She secretly thought maybe Pema knew more about her than anyone had known in years. And it was because Lin had opened herself up to the woman in the past weeks – unwillingly in the beginning – but Lin had found it nice to share her thoughts, especially with someone who seemed to care.
“Maybe I would have left, but not if I had been in your place. I mean, I have my job, I have my money to fall back on. But you… “
Lin stopped talking when she saw the sad look on Pema’s face. They both knew.
“That is exactly why I left,” she whispered.
Lin stayed quiet for a moment.
“And it’s why I want to leave Republic City.”
Lin had the embarrassingly strong urge to tell her she shouldn’t, wanted to tell her she would be happy in Republic City, where if she had to move out, they could at least meet up for coffee sometimes – she would make the time, she was sure. But she also noticed how caging and restricting it sounded in her head and she mentally slapped herself for selfishly wishing the same things that had made Pema run from Tenzin.
“So where will you go?” she asked instead, consciously trying to support whatever it was that Pema wanted.
Pema shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but I can’t stay here, I don’t want to burden you any longer.”
Lin leaned back against the sofa, eyes forward and away from Pema. “You’re not a burden.”
“I’m not saying I am. I’m saying that me living here is making your life harder.”
Lin wanted to say that Pema also made her life much better, but she didn’t want to scare her off, so she said something else: “When do you want to leave?”
“Next week,” Pema said.
Lin crossed her arms over her chest.
“Aren’t you happy for me?” Pema asked and if Lin didn’t know better, she’d say it sounded almost hurt.
“Of course,” Lin huffed.
“Then why are you frowning like that?”
“I’m not,” Lin said, schooling her expression, “I just thought you would stay a little longer.”
Pema rested her head against her hand. “I honestly thought you’d be glad.”
Lin whipped her head around to look at her, “Why would I be glad?”
“You’re a private person,” Pema smiled, “I kind of hijacked your apartment.” Lin’s face softened a little as Pema added with a chuckle, “And your plants.”
Lin looked over at the orchids that looked healthier than they ever had, “I told you, you didn’t have to take care of those.”
Pema shrugged, “The least I could do. Besides, you don’t let me do anything else here, Lin.”
Lin closed her eyes, replaying in her head the way her name sounded when Pema said it.
“Do you need help preparing anything?”
Pema sighed, “I’ve looked at some destinations, but I think I want to start slow and…just leave for a month or so.”
Lin nodded, “A month.”
“Yeah, and then I’ll come back for a while. I can’t go that long without seeing my kids. Rohan made me promise it would only be a month before he’d get to see me again. I’m glad Tenzin is so invested in the kids’ lives.”
Lin nodded again. “I can help you with the route if you want.”
Pema took her hand, squeezing it shortly, “I’d like that.”
Lin didn’t squeeze back, too surprised by the action to do anything about it. Pema rarely touched her, and if she did it was a hand on her arm or her shoulder; she never lingered – not like this.
Four days and a whole lot of route planning and reading about sights later, Lin found herself confronted with a statement she hadn’t given a single thought to. She was studying a road map when Pema said, “Come with me.”
“What?”
“Join me! It will be so much fun and you need time off.”
“I can’t just leave,” she frowned.
“You’re not leaving, you’re taking a vacation.”
“Pema, it’s not that easy.”
“You can see it as a training period for the interim Chief, to see if he’ll do the work correctly.”
“That- That’s not how it works.”
“But it could be,” Pema argued, “You said last week that he needed to prove himself as an organizer and leader before you continued mentoring him.”
Lin sighed. “I can’t just leave for a month.”
“Why, because your job dictates your life?”
“Yes,” Lin answered frustratedly, “And I like it that way.”
Pema pointed at the list of destinations they had made, lying on the coffee table. “We planned it together, you should get to enjoy the beautiful route, too.”
Lin found she wanted to say ‘yes’. She wanted to spend time with Pema, more time than they got in the few hours when she got home or between check-list errands on the weekends. (Spirits what was wrong with her?)
“I’ll think about it,” she settled.
“That’s what you say to people when you want to say no to them,” Pema narrowed her eyes.
“I can’t say ‘yes’.”
Pema looked at her, fixating her with her green eyes. “Promise me you will actually think about it and not just say no the next time I bring it up.”
Lin had a hard time looking away. “I promise.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d realized it, drawn out of her by hopeful green eyes.
Pema looked as surprised as she felt. “Really?”
Lin grumbled, “I promised it, didn’t I?” And the way Pema’s face lit up at her words, as though she had already agreed, made her want to say ‘yes’ all the more. But she couldn’t… could she?
For the following day, she ran all possible and impossible scenarios in her head. She came up with 24 different ways this was going to go and only two of them ended in her precinct surviving the month without her.
It came as a surprise when she made some calls to find out how many days of vacation she was technically entitled to. After speaking to a few people and mostly their assistants (they always had the real knowledge) she had gotten a request approved. Three weeks of leave. Three. It was surprising how quickly it had been approved and how easy it was to tell the interim chief everything he had to do while she would be gone.
On her way out of the station she caught a glimpse of Tenzin, orange and red robes flowing through the hallway and to her own horror she made a quick step, waiting behind a corner as he walked past. She let out a breath of relief and a wave of guilt washed over her immediately. What the fuck was that?
Had she really just hidden? Hidden… from Tenzin? She felt her face burning with shame as she swiftly left the building, making sure to get to her car as quickly as possible. As she drove home, her thoughts were still occupied with the incident. Why hide? Maybe because soon after finding out who Pema – his wife, now soon-to-be ex-wife – had been living with, he had informed her their shared lunches after joint meetings would stop.
Maybe because she hadn’t found the words to tell him that she was sorry (partly because she felt such fierce loyalty to him that a mere ‘sorry’ would never suffice and partly because she knew he would have more help than Pema would ever find on her own, so a certain part of her – call it the fact that she was a woman – had not quite found a reason to apologize). Now she wondered if they would ever talk again. If she would forever avoid him.
No, she decided. She would simply have to find a way to begin talking to him again. After all, the two of them had always found their way back to each other. They would this time, too.
And she pushed the worries about their friendship away as she entered her apartment to be greeted with a warm smile and someone taking her bag away to put it on a chair so she could take off her coat, then armour in peace.
“How was your day?” Pema inquired softly and Lin thought that their distant greetings each evening felt more and more awkward (looking back, one of the first thoughts she should have banished).
“Uneventful,” she replied, shaking away the notion to greet her some way other than just with words.
She prepared dinner, warming up some curry with rice while Pema set the table, talking about her day and the things she had packed already.
“Three weeks,” Lin said when Pema was halfway done with her curry.
“What?”
“I said I’d think it over. Three weeks, that’s it.”
Pema still looked utterly confused. “Three weeks of what?”
“Vacation,” Lin grumbled, unsure if Pema was making fun of her now. Had she misunderstood the offer?
“Wait, do you mean you’re coming with me?”
Lin looked down at her plate, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “Unless you changed your mind, then I’d undo everything. Were you not being serious when you asked me?”
“Of course I was,” Pema said, seemingly taking offence. “I’m just surprised. I thought you’d say no. Why wouldn’t I be serious?”
Lin considered her next words carefully, “You’ve been making some big decisions lately… impulsively.” Her voice became increasingly shy, something she wasn’t quite familiar with anymore, “I just want to make sure you still want to.”
Pema got up and Lin feared she had truly offended her.
“It wasn’t impulsive to leave him. I’ve been thinking about it for two years… maybe a little longer if-.”
“I saw Tenzin today,” she said quickly as she felt the weight of a lie on her chest – it was a weird day.
Pema looked at her, shock evident on her face. “Okay? Uhm. How- how was he?”
“I didn’t have time to speak to him. I was on my way out already.” Technically, also not a lie.
“You know,” Pema started hesitantly, “I think this is a good time to thank you for letting me be here despite everything,” she said, “I can’t help but feel a little like I shouldn’t have invaded your space.”
And instead of confessing how happy it made her to have Pema with her (or maybe just not to be alone – yeah, probably that) she said, “I took three weeks off.”
Pema smiled softly, already forgetting about Tenzin. “And you want to come with me?”
“For three weeks.”
Pema chuckled, “Can you not say ‘yes’?”
Lin rolled her eyes (almost fondly), “Yes, I will come with you.”
Pema looked up at her, gauging her reaction, “Can I hug you?”
Lin didn’t know why Pema asked first, but she nodded, standing.
Pema stepped closer and Lin froze. She was rigid when Pema wrapped her arms around her, but when she smelled her shampoo from where her head rested just under Lin’s nose, she hugged her back. It felt good, she noted, then she had the instinct to remember the way it felt, the way they fit together. She needed to absorb it, some voice told her, commit it to memory.
“This is going to be so much fun. I’m happy you’re coming, too.”
And before she knew, Pema squeezed once and it was over again.
Lin smiled down at her. And she felt an odd excitement at the thought of a vacation. She hadn’t been on one in the longest time.