Chapter Text
Agnes’ hair was the longest Becka had ever seen it.
It made her look pretty. Prettier, actually. And it made Becka feel distracted. She wanted to spend all day looking at it. She had long since given up on that. She let those impulses sometimes just be. They weren’t hurting anyone but herself, after all.
She had become a master at looking at her in ways that wouldn’t have been possible back in Gilead. She indulged herself. She let her body react and her lower stomach feel warm every time she caught a sense of her perfume.
Agnes didn’t notice.
It was easier that way.
It also broke Becka’s heart every single time.
***
This was the first appointment Becka had been allowed to attend by herself.
And by herself was only a way to put it, perhaps. June had drove her there, then she had come up with her and, once she made sure Becka had everything she needed and that she was fully checked-in, only then the whole by herself thing had truly started. Becka wasn’t one to complain, though. She had been living in Canada for almost six months and most things still completely terrified her.
She was brave, or so she liked to think, though, and she kept facing everything with a strange sense of purpose. But she was still learning her way around things. All these nerves and feelings of dread had been named for her- anxiety- and naming things, Becka had found out, helped her cope with them better.
She had spent the entire ride to the doctor’s rehearsing everything she needed to know:
Name.
Date of birth.
Address.
Emergency contact.
All of the numbers.
Some of it wasn’t even true. Or, well, it was now.
She had also gone over every possible question the doctor might have for her. She had stressed herself so much that she hadn’t notice when June had pulled over. But she still couldn’t help herself. And she was grateful for the opportunity to show that she could do it.
Twenty minutes in, nobody had really moved form the waiting room. She knew waiting for doctors could be tedious, but she had been taught to be patient and it was something that could not so easily be removed.
Mrs. Puntimp sat behind the reception desk. She was old, or so had said Daisy on multiple occasions. Old but nice, which Becka wasn’t so accustomed to. Back in Gilead, old had meant something else entirely. Becka still flinched everytime the old lady asked her something.
The clock struck five, then, and out of the corner of her eye, Becka could see Mrs. Puntimp picking up her things. She was so gentle in every movement, that Becka was always tempted to follow her through. The old lady addressed no one in particular when she said: “Have you all a good afternoon”. And then, she was gone.
Becka had to contain her impulse to freak out. That had never happened before. A moment later, though, a girl slipped behind the desk.
She looked about Becka's age, maybe a little older. Becka had never seen her before. Her hair was dirty blonde and it all came together in a messy bun on top of her head. She looked relaxed and confident, moving things around like if it meant nothing. She stayed like that for a few minutes. Then, she stood up, grabbing with her a long white sheet.
She stood in front of the man across from Becka, speaking to him in a light tone. Becka couldn’t make up what they were saying. She saw her make the round among the rest of the people waiting. It made her feel anxious. She hadn’t prepared for this, whatever it was.
When the girl finally made it in front of her, she flashed her a big smile. Becka tried to reciprocate, but, instead, she was sure she had displayed a meek turn of the lips. What now?
“Hey,” the girl said, “you into The Smiths?”
Becka blinked back at her, her mind completely blank. The girl must have picked up on it, because she pointed to Becka’s T- shirt. “The Smiths?” she tried again.
Oh.
Becka had forgotten she was wearing one of Daisy’s shirts. She had her own clothes now and she could choose. Almost anything was appropriate for almost any occasion. Such anarchy had given her a big headache at the begging, but now was perhaps one of the best aspects of this new life. Sometimes, though, when she felt a little scared, she liked to borrow clothes.
It made her feel another person, a person who could do this, who was confident. Daisy didn’t mind. Becka had never been brave enough to ask Agnes for something of hers. But her mind was wandering, and the girl kept looking at her, expecting an answer.
“Actually, I don’t really know them.” The girl looked at her with what Becka though was amusement. “You see,” Becka started, because she had kind of practiced for this, in particular, too. The lie rolled out of her tongue almost smoothly. But not very smoothly; the girl was making her nervous. “I’m not really from around here, so I’m still learning some things.”
“Oh,” the girl said, waving her hand around, like it wasn’t a big deal. Then, she sat in the seat next to her. “You should check them out, you’ll like them.”
Becka left out a nervous laugh. None of this was particularly funny, but she did feel relieved. Thing was, it wasn’t entirely a lie, what she had told her. It was an omission. And June had taught them that it helped ease the tension when they didn’t know something. It was still way too rehearsed for Becka. But the girl’s reaction seemed genuine and not intrusive, as she had found some to be on certain occasions. Becka nodded as a way of answering, not sure what else this conversation could be about.
“I could recommend some songs for you,” the girl continued.
Becka wanted to be polite. “Yes, that would be great,” she answered with enthusiasm. It was all not faked, to her own surprise.
“You’re Becka, right?” the girl said, checking the paper. “Becka Grove?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Becka Grove, I’m Reggie,” the girl said and then, she extended her hand for Becka to shake. That’s something women were allowed to do here, out in the open. The girl’s hand, Reggie’s hand, was warm.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Reggie replayed, looking her in the eye. It was making Becka feel some kind of uncomfortable. Not the bad kind, perhaps. “So, you had your appointment at four fifty, right?” Becka nodded. “Yeah, that’s long gone. You will have to excuse us, we are running a little late.”
“Yeah,” Becka said. “I don’t think you’ve ever not run a little late,” she offered. That made Reggie laugh. Becka wasn’t trying to be funny, but it was still kind of nice that she laughed.
“Yeah, I guess you don’t need any help learning that doctors take time a little bit more flexible than the rest of us.”
“I don’t mind,” Becka answered, still trying to be polite. And because it was true.
“Good.” Reggie started filling some things into her sheet. As soon as she finished, she went back to looking at Becka. “So, Becka Grove, do you have an Instagram?”
Instagram.
Becka knew that word. She had heard Daisy talk about it, but she couldn’t remember exactly what it meant. For a moment, she could feel herself freak out. She didn’t like not knowing. She didn’t want to say, again, that she didn’t know. Two in a row felt like too much.
“I have insurance,” she said instead, hoping maybe this was related. Reggie laughed. It made Becka feel defensive, even if it didn’t sound like a mean laugh or as if she were making fun of her.
“Well, that’s good”, Reggie, said, still laughing and leaning closer to her. “Doctors here are fucking expensive.” Becka nodded, not sure what else to say. “I meant an Instagram account?” Reggie tried again.
Becka was completely lost. “Don’t worry, maybe you haven’t gotten to that lesson yet. You do have a phone, right?” And Becka did have a phone, yes! She nodded enthusiastically, finally able to get one right. To show her, she took it out of her jean pocket.
“Excellent,” Reggie said. And then, without asking, she took the phone from Becka’s hand. “So, this is what we’ll do: I’ll put my phone number here”, she said, typing away on the device, “and I will send a message to myself and then, whenever you want to learn about The Smiths, you just text me, okay?”
Becka felt overwhelmed for a second, and her cheeks turned red, too, but she nodded, again. “I hope that’s soon,” Reggie added, her voice lower in a way that Becka was still not very familiar with. It was nice. It sounded nice on her.
Then, Reggie stood up and went back to her desk. And Becka had to spend the remaining 23 minutes before she was finally called up fighting the urge to look back at her.
***
The appointment went well. All was well.
Still, Becka felt a kind of way that was not entirely right. She let the night go, avoiding Daisy and avoiding Agnes. She tried to not give it too much thought. She didn’t like to keep things from Agnes, but what was exactly she keeping, anyway?
She found the girls cheerfully talking to each other the next morning. She made room for herself, trying to go unnoticed, letting the usual chaos of the morning hide her. Agnes was running late today, so unlike her, so both her and June ended up leaving shortly after.
That left her with Daisy.
She was on her phone, eating her fruit and with her eyes glue to the screen. For this situation, Becka considered her the best possible person to disclosure. It still didn’t make her feel entirely comfortable. But Daisy had been so good to all of them.
She though of Shu, for a moment. Something inside her moved as she realized she missed her too much. Soon, June had said. She was safe for now, she reminded them everyday.
Becka moved around the kitchen for a little longer, getting herself some tea and finally sitting next to Daisy at the counter. “So, what’s an Instagram account?” she decided to just go for it. Daisy dropped her phone, then, but just enough to look at her. “I think we talked about it, but I don’t really remember…”
Daisy cuts through her rambles almost immediately, but she was gentle. “It’s part of social media,” she started, now fully letting her phone rest on the counter. “Do you remember social media?” Becka did, although it was all still a little jumbled inside her head. “Well, it’s a platform where you can put up pictures and videos of yourself, and your friends can look at them and leave comments.”
“Yes, I remember now.”
“Why?” Daisy asked her.
“Umm, the girl working at Dr. Foully’s office asked me if I had one.”
“Mrs. Puntimp?” Daisy asked, getting closer to her now, an incredulous look in her face.
“No,” Becka was fast to correct. “Another girl came in, I don’t know, I guess Mrs. Puntimp finished working? She was more my age and she started asking me about The Smiths and then about Instagram and I don’t know, I’ve never seen her before yesterday.”
That definitely peaked Daisy’s interest. Becka knew she should have ‘reported’ it before. June liked to keep tab on new people appearing on the girls’ lives. Not that Becka was meeting a lot of new people, anyways, but they were still refugees and that involved a number of safety measures. She hadn’t really made any new friends, and neither had Agnes, although she was better at small talk than Becka was.
“She asked for you Instagram account?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.” Daisy seemed to be going over something in her head. “What did you say?”
“That I didn’t know what it was.” Becka felt embarrassed to admit it. “She gave me her phone number,” she added, not sure if she had done something wrong or if she should have started from there.
Daisy’s expression changed immediately. Becka couldn’t read it, though, not really. It annoyed her. “How did she give you her number? Did she put it on your phone?”
“Yes,” Becka answered right away. She was starting to freak out.
“Voluntarily?
“Yes. Am I in trouble?”
“Oh, god, no!” Daisy was fast to assure her, trying to contain a laugh. Becka didn’t like being left out of things. There was something in the whole situation that was amusing Daisy and it made Becka feel so dumb.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No! Jesus, Becka, relax. You probably just made a friend,” Daisy told her, but it didn’t sound so sincere. There was a hidden excitement in her voice, something that she was keeping to herself and Becka couldn’t crack. “I will have to speak about it with June, you know? But just relax.”
Still, there was something that Becka felt was going over her head. She stared at her breakfast for a long time, suddenly feeling her stomach close up.
***
Daisy was going to tell June about it. She was, but then she got curious and now she was casually standing at the doctor’s office after five, hoping to do some research of her own before passing the assignment along.
She saw the girl right away. Because this girl was pretty. Very pretty, actually, and very chill, it seemed, and suddenly it all kinda clicked for her. She had a plan, though, and she was very good at that, too, so she made her way to the front desk with her best i’m so lost expression on her face.
“Hi,” she announced herself. The girl immediately looked up at her, big smile on her face, although keeping it professional, Daisy could tell.
“Hi, welcome, how can I help you?”
“I’m supposed to have an appointment next week, but I cannot remember when. And I don’t have it on my phone, either, I’m a mess, you know? Maybe you can help me?”
The girl smiled tightly at her. “Don’t worry,” she said, “if you give me your information, we can check it out right away.”
The girl seemed nice and kind, but Daisy was very intentionally wearing her The Smiths’ t-shirt and she didn’t seem to be budging. Interesting.
Daisy gave her her information, and after a few seconds of typing, the girl looked back at her. “Great, Daisy. Your appointment is next week. Friday 15th at a quarter to eleven. I have just sent you the confirmation email, so you’re all set.”
“Oh, great, awesome, you’re a life saver.” The girl smiled, waving her hand dismissively, but in a kind way. Still, she didn’t seem to be interested in starting small talk or talking to her about band tastes. “I don’t suppose…” Daisy started, “I can check out my friend’s appointment?”
The girl smiled at her, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to share patient’s information. It’s all confidential.”
“No, right, I know. It’s just, you know, she’s a bit absent minded sometimes, my friend Becka…”
That seemed to do it.
“Becka Grove?” the girl asked.
“Yes, Becka Grove. You know her?”
“Yes, she was here on Monday,” the girl said, immediately biting her lip. That was indeed sharing patients’ information. “Maybe I could re send her the confirmation email?”
“That would be fantastic, yes,” Daisy answered. “She’s not from around here, you know?” she continued.
“Yeah, she mentioned that.”
“So maybe she seems a little bit strange…”
“She doesn’t,” the girl was fast to cut her.
Oh. So. Very. Interesting.
“Well, good, that’s good.” The girl seemed to hesitate for a second. Daisy could tell she wanted to ask her something. So, she decided to just take charge. “She can be a bit shy, you know? With new people and stuff. Sometimes she needs a little push.”
The girl was still debating something in her head. “I gave her my number…but she hasn’t texted. Do you think maybe I should…?”
“Yes!” Daisy said, barely containing her excitement. “You definitely should.”
“Ok, cool. Because I thought maybe I came a little too strong…”
Oh my god. Daisy didn’t need any more proof. “She comes from a different lifestyle,” the girl made a face, “but she’s like, super nice. And super not into that lifestyle anymore.”
She let the last word hang between them for a moment. The girl blushed. “Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s good then. So, I text her?”
“Yes. You do that. And have a little patience.”
Some hours later, after telling June (and only the very necessary information), Daisy felt quite proud of herself.
***
“The girl form the doctor’s office texted me”, Becka announced, closing the door behind her and sitting down on the bed next to Daisy.
“Cool, did you answer?”
Becka fidgeted with her hands, a clear sign of worriness and exciting. Daisy had gotten good at reading them.
“I want to talk about something with you but it makes me feel embarrassed.”
Daisy sat on the bed now, too. She put her serious face on, trying to show Becka that this was going to be a serious conversation. That she was serious about it.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
“Not even Agnes,” Becka whispered. “Specially not Agnes.”
“Becka, I promise that I won’t.”
“I don’t like to keep things from her. I just…don’t want to make her feel unconformatble.”
“I highly doubt you could make her…”
“Please.”
“Yes, I promise”.
It took Becka a few minutes to get started. Daisy tried to give her as much time as possible.
“Ever since I was a little girl…I had known I didn’t want to get married.” She took a shaky breath of air right after, like this was taking an enormous effort from her. “I’ve always known. At first, I thought it was because I was a little girl. But is not that. I think I just…don’t like men. Not in a romantic way, or to get married or to…share a life.”
She was crying now, those silent tears that were so so Becka and that broke Daisy heart every single time. It made her want to reassure her right away. So, she took one of her hands between them. “Becka, it’s okay. It’s okay to feel this way.”
“You said that already.”
And Daisy goes back to that moment. “I meant it then and I mean it now.”
“I’m not dumb,” she went on. “I know Agnes…”
But she doesn’t complete the sentence. Daisy supposed it was because it hurt her too much. “She’ll always be my best friend, and that is…well, isn’t that incredible? To always have her on my life?”
It was. And Daisy had to fight a big impulse to tell her to not give up, to fight for it. But how could she? She’d never had a conversation like that with Agnes. How could she send this girl back to war when there’s so much uncertainty.
So, she nodded, instead. She took one hand to wipe a tear from Becka’s cheek, trying to be gentle with her. “It is incredible, Becka, yes.”
They stayed in silence for a few more minutes. Then, Becka spoke again. “I think it’s time for me to start living this life I have.” Her voice wasshaky, but that had never stopped Becka before, Daisy knew. “I think…”
“You can just say it,” Daisy encouraged her.
“I think Reggie from the doctor’s office may…like me.”
It was so refreshing to hear her say that.
“Yes! She so does, Becka, yes.”
“How do you know?”
And Daisy had to stop herself form just spilling. “I’m good with signs, from what you told me, I can totally tell.” She said intead.
“She keeps texting me. And I keep answering. It’s not love…”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“I know,” Becka said. “I’ve been reading about it. It doesn’t have to be like Gilead and it doesn’t have to be love. There’re places in between. And I’ve never felt…”
Wanted.
Daisy knew that’s what Becka meant. Neither said it.
“She wants to meet.”
“Go.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. But…”
“I won’t tell,” Daisy told her. And that was a promise.