[ When Ben orders a hot chocolate, Beverly asks for the same on wild impulse. She hasn't treated herself to something so indulgent in ages — real sugar, real milk, Tom would have something snide to say — but if they're revisiting their childhoods then may as well go all in. She shares a secretive little smile with the man across from her, like this is as thrilling as sneaking out of the inn after hours. Not everything about coming home has to be bad, surely.
Her memories of Mrs Hanscom are foggy, just like everything else, but there's a warmth that settles in the centre of her chest listening to Ben talk about her. Maybe because she has nothing of her own mother — Elfrida Marsh's absence is a memory that never needed erasing for Beverly. All she has is one creased, sunlit photo unearthed by her aunt of a woman with hair like her daughter's and a smile that always seemed a little sad to her. Or perhaps she's projecting. Is that why her father was always —
(so angry)
— so distant? ]
Guess Derry just wasn't the place for us. [ It's her hometown. But she doesn't feel that loss or any kind of loyalty; no, that's reserved for the Losers. It's relieving to hear Ben give shape to that feeling. ] But I'm not so sure anywhere was. Can't exactly say I'm happy in New York but I could never figure out why. I mean, apart from — [ She falters, cheeks colouring, and looks at the scar on her palm instead of the bruises circling her wrist. ] Something was always missing and it's like a part of me knew, somehow. Then it all clicked at the Jade. Or at least... some of it.
[ She smiles briefly. ]
No one else in my life fits the way you guys do.
[ Kay comes closest. But not her husband. Never. ]
Kind of feels like a waste. That we only had it for such a short period of time, and then we had to go twenty-seven years without, and with a piece of ourselves missing this whole time. Feels unfair.
[ You could argue that maybe it stung less, when you didn't even know what you were missing. But of course they had all felt it, even if they didn't understand why: the ragged edge where something was gone. Where something had been cut loose from them; surprisingly neatly and the wound long-since sutured over, but still missing nonetheless.
He's looking down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting over the menu. ]
I'm upstate. Back in New York, I mean. Just a couple hours from you. Weird to think that we've been so close to each other the whole time and never knew it, huh?
[ Ben tries a laugh; hopes it doesn't sound too strained, or too awkward, or too caught in his throat. ]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-12-20 01:25 pm (UTC)Her memories of Mrs Hanscom are foggy, just like everything else, but there's a warmth that settles in the centre of her chest listening to Ben talk about her. Maybe because she has nothing of her own mother — Elfrida Marsh's absence is a memory that never needed erasing for Beverly. All she has is one creased, sunlit photo unearthed by her aunt of a woman with hair like her daughter's and a smile that always seemed a little sad to her. Or perhaps she's projecting. Is that why her father was always —
(so angry)
— so distant? ]
Guess Derry just wasn't the place for us. [ It's her hometown. But she doesn't feel that loss or any kind of loyalty; no, that's reserved for the Losers. It's relieving to hear Ben give shape to that feeling. ] But I'm not so sure anywhere was. Can't exactly say I'm happy in New York but I could never figure out why. I mean, apart from — [ She falters, cheeks colouring, and looks at the scar on her palm instead of the bruises circling her wrist. ] Something was always missing and it's like a part of me knew, somehow. Then it all clicked at the Jade. Or at least... some of it.
[ She smiles briefly. ]
No one else in my life fits the way you guys do.
[ Kay comes closest. But not her husband. Never. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-12-28 09:58 pm (UTC)[ You could argue that maybe it stung less, when you didn't even know what you were missing. But of course they had all felt it, even if they didn't understand why: the ragged edge where something was gone. Where something had been cut loose from them; surprisingly neatly and the wound long-since sutured over, but still missing nonetheless.
He's looking down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting over the menu. ]
I'm upstate. Back in New York, I mean. Just a couple hours from you. Weird to think that we've been so close to each other the whole time and never knew it, huh?
[ Ben tries a laugh; hopes it doesn't sound too strained, or too awkward, or too caught in his throat. ]