Grace Reynolds (lady_kingpin) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2013-02-27 22:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | day twelve, grace, grace and rebekah, rebekah |
Just Trying to Have a Chat
Who: Becka and Grace
Setting: Becka's Room, Early Evening
After her meeting with Wu, Grace had decided to get into some contact with Becka. She wanted to check on the door and see how she was doing. She had been awful quiet the past few days, after all. She wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but she knew that it couldn't be anything good. The girl was a lively and vivacious thing, so her going silent wasn't good.
Plus, Becka needed to eat. She had actually packed a light dinner of sandwiches for the both of them, although she'd likely hand them all off to Becka if the girl was hungry enough. She'd also brought several bottles of water and soda, as she wasn't totally sure what she drank off the top of her head. With everything packed away, she made her way to the new room in question (something she also wanted to ask about), knocking on the door and calling out. "Becka? It's Grace. Can I come in?"
It had been a very long, very boring day for Becka, but she was trying to find ways to fight cabin fever. She’d played Solitaire more times than she could count, she’d finished one book and made it halfway through another, she’d listened to music she’d never heard of before, and she’d even done a little bit of messaging on the computer. By the time Grace asked if they could meet up, she was more than happy to have some company. She really didn’t want it getting around that she’d changed rooms - the fewer people who knew, the less chance whoever had hurt her would find out, after all.
Becka only remembered that Carmel had said she would put some dinner aside for her after she’d finished setting up plans with Grace, so she figured she would just find and eat it another time if no one else had snagged it by then. When Grace knock on the door, Becka jumped a little at the voice that came along with it. Damn it, hadn’t she told Grace that she didn’t want it getting around that she was in this room now? Maybe she hadn’t, maybe she’d thought it would be understood because she’d switched to private messaging to tell her. Either way, she didn’t want to keep her waiting, and so she hurried to the door, opening it quickly and keeping herself mostly behind it. “Yes, come in,” she said, closing the door as soon as Grace had cleared it.
Grace couldn't help but frown a tad when she realized just how jumpy Becka was. With a nod, she made her way into the room, waiting for Becka to shut the door behind her. "I brought you some food," she said. She had brought enough for the both of them, as she assumed that she would eat with her rather than go back to the kitchen and make herself something else. She hadn't told anyone that she was going off to Becka's room or what room number she was going to. She looked around for somewhere to set the food for them so that they could spread it out and eat.
There was no time wasted in shutting the door, and when Becka turned to Grace, it was with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it,” she replied. “You can just set it...” She motioned to the little table in the room and then moved to sit in her favored spot of the computer chair. She liked being able to move around in it, like it was some small expression of the nervous energy and anxiety in her now.
With a slight smile of her own, Grace set down the bag of food and drinks that she had brought, pulling out the sandwiches and then soda and water. "Wasn't sure what you would be in the mood for, drink wise," she offered with a small chuckle. She searched Becka's face, trying to think of a gentle way to put into words the things she wanted to ask. Becka seemed...wrong in so many ways that Grace had to know what was going on.
Shrugging, Becka held out a hand for the water. “My stomach’s been pretty upset, so I don’t think soda would be a great idea,” she explained, wrinkling her nose a bit. After twisting the cap off the bottle, she motioned toward the couch. “Please, sit,” she offered, remembering her manners. And then, she just kind of sat there a little awkwardly, not sure what to say next.
Grace grabbed a bottle of water for herself, wanting to be able to get a little bit of sleep before her patrol later tonight. So, caffeine wouldn't do her any good right now. When she was offered a seat, she made herself comfortable on the sofa. "Becka, I just wanted to let you know, if you need to talk about anything, you can talk to me. I can keep things to myself if need be." She wanted the younger woman to feel that she could talk if she needed to. She just looked so...wound up.
God, had everyone been able to figure out what had happened to her? Becka frowned and looked down, picking at the fabric of her shirt almost absently. “Yeah, I know,” she murmured in reply. A part of her even knew that she needed to talk about it, she just didn’t want to. “I... don’t think I’ll be here much longer,” she admitted, an awkward change of subject.
Grace hadn't been able to quite figure out what had happened to her, but she could see that something serious was bothering her, plus she had moved rooms. "What makes you think that? Did the administrators send you a message?" she asked, curious.
Becka’s eyes were bright as she shook her head, not sure how to explain without actually explaining. There were some people here that she wanted to be aware of the fact that she intended to leave, and Grace was one of them. She knew what it was like for a friend to just disappear without being able to anticipate it. After all, it still hurt her some that Leandro was gone. “No, they didn’t. I just... don’t think I can stay here. It’s too hard.” And she still didn’t think the law enforcement would be able to figure out who’d hurt her, no matter how confident Jae had seemed.
Grace nodded, realizing what she meant. Adding up all of the facts, she realized what it was that probably happened to her, and she couldn't help but feel royally pissed off about it. The idea of someone taking advantage of Becka like that made her see red. "If that's really what you want, but I can tell you this: leaving won't make the pain go away." In fact it would likely add to it.
Blowing out a breath, Becka shrugged jerkily. “What will?” she countered with the smallest hint of defiance. Nothing would make the pain go away, that much she was sure about, but at least if she wasn’t here, she wouldn’t have to worry about running into him and interacting with him not knowing that he was her attacker. It was something she was already dealing with, and she just didn’t want to keep having to do so.
Grace actually shrugged right back, but it wasn't as defiant as Becka's had been. "I can't really speak from experience," she admitted. "The worst thing I've dealt with is being away from my children now." Which she hated. For everything that she admittedly was, she was a family woman at heart. She wanted to at least have some contact with her daughters. Her ex-husband could go rot, though. "I know that running never solves anything, though."
Sighing, Becka nodded slightly. That was actually something she could relate to, as before the other night, being away from her family was the worst thing she’d been through as well. Not anymore, though. “Yeah, but this is a million times worse than being away from my family,” she admitted softly. “And it’s not running, not really. It’s been a few days, and I just don’t think they’ll be able to figure out who it was, and why should I torture myself by staying here, risking being around him without realizing it? I wanted to at first. I thought that I just had to stay because how could I move on without knowing? But... It’s just too hard to be here.”
"Yes, much worse than simple home and family sickness," Grace agreed quickly. She wanted to be there for Becka, but she felt that part of that was fully admitting that she had never been a victim of anything before in her life. She had always tried to be the strong willed one. "I can understand it feeling like it's too hard here after what happened. I just don't want you to leave and then wish that you had stuck it out. I doubt a program like this would give a second change." She thought on that for a second. "Maybe you should send a message to the administrators? Maybe they have some light to shed on the matter?" She doubted Becka wanted to talk to them about this, but they might let her leave for a little while so that the culprit could be found and then Becka could return?
Well, at least it didn’t seem like she was minimizing what she’d gone through. That was the last thing Becka wanted to deal with. She pulled a face at the suggestion, though, shaking her head. “I don’t think this program is for me anyway,” she said softly. “I was thinking about it even before this happened. What they’re offering? I don’t think I want it. Not having the stigma of a conviction following me around would be really great, but is it worth giving up my family, my friends, my entire identity? I don’t think it is, not for me.” It had been almost two weeks since she’d had any contact with her family, and she didn’t think she could handle much longer than that.
It was an issue that Grace had done the inward debate with herself. She hated being sequestered from her daughters like this. Nuns had it better than they did. At least they could receive letters. It would be a lot better if there was at least some communication. "Maybe things will change in the future and we will be allowed some sort of contact with our family," she said. "It's something I struggle with, too. I tell myself that a possible relatively short time in here would be better than the forty years I would be serving in prison." She sighed. "How long would you be serving if you went back?"
Despite all the changes that had occurred in the two weeks since this facility had opened, Becka couldn’t really see them changing the end game. Logically, she could understand the importance of them not having any contact with the people from their life before this place, and there were some people here that the benefit far outweighed what they were leaving behind, but she wasn’t one of those people. “Forty... years...?” she breathed, her eyes going just a little wide at that. What had Grace done to get forty years? She didn’t really want to know. At the question, she wrinkled her nose. “Only seven years,” she answered. It was nothing compared to Grace’s sentence, but it was still a long time, a lot of life to give up for someone who’d really only just started living.
"Let's just say that the judge wanted to make an example of me a bit," Grace said with a touch of a ruthful smile. If she thought about it too hard, she realized that the judge might begrudgingly impressed with the fact that she was starting to connect with people. Maybe it was simply because she had little else to do, but she found herself genuinely liking some of the people around here. She had no idea what to make of that. It almost worried her. She wondered if she was just seeking a surrogate family while she was away from her flesh and blood one. When Becka said how fairly little time she had, Grace arched an eyebrow. "You may have one of the shorter sentences here," she admitted. From those that had come out about their crimes, she assumed that more people were facing her style of sentences rather than Becka's.
Although Grace had commented on it, Becka had absolutely no desire to focus on whatever reason the older woman was in. She liked her, and she didn’t want to sully that with knowing whatever it was. And so she just smiled faintly and moved on. At Grace’s reaction to learning how long she had left on her sentence, Becka nodded. “Yeah, I know. It could’ve been worse, though. The max for what I did was fifteen years. But really, what’s seven years in the grand scheme of things? I’ll be a lot more limited in what I can do when I get out, but at least I’ll have my family and friends.” And at this point in her life, she just couldn’t imagine never seeing or talking to them again.
Grace could almost see the logic behind Becka's idea of why she'd want to go back, serve her time, and still be able to be visited by her family while she waited. This was a confinement that they were in here. She couldn't rightly call it solitary, since there were others, but maybe sequestering. That seemed like the better word. "At the end of the day, you have to do what you think is best for yourself," Grace said with a sigh. "I know that I'd miss you if you left, though." Especially since she couldn't get letters from her here.
It was nice, Becka thought, that she would be missed if she left. It wasn’t quite enough to keep her from going, because Grace was right, she needed to do what was best for her. “Yeah? Well, you could always write to me,” she suggested. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to send letters here, and she didn’t know if the letters they sent out from here were actually sent out, but it was a nice thought.
Grace nodded. "I could write, let you know how things are going here," she explained. She really hoped that she and others could talk Becka into staying here, but it was something that she wouldn't be able to do alone. If a group of them came to her and convinced her that they could all protect her and keep her safe, it might work, though. "Maybe at some point they will allow for us to receive letters here as well." Grace knew that she was hoping for it, anyway. She'd kill to get a letter from her children at this point. She just hoped that the one that she had written actually got sent out.
“I’ll give you an address to send them to,” Becka replied with a smile. It might not be the smartest idea to give a fellow convict your address, but her parents did have a PO Box, and she was sure they would pass on the letters to her. She would give her Shakopee’s mailing address, but she didn’t actually know it, so it would be simpler that way. “That would be nice,” she agreed, though she highly doubted that they would let them receive letters here. After all, this program was about burying your old life and becoming a new person, and it would be more difficult to do that if you were in contact with people from your old life. It was part of why she just didn’t think she could see this program through.
Grace found that part of the program a little ridiculous herself, that they were completely shutting them off from contact with even their families. People in solitary confinement could still receive letters, but not them. "I'm sure that we'll figure something out." She figured that it would still be a few days before Becka could arrange to get out of here, so at least they still had time. "I'd be happy to get an address from you, though." More than happy, actually. It would at least allow for some continuing contact, even if it was from only one side.
While it was frustrating, Becka could actually understand why they weren’t allowed contact from the outside, but she wasn’t about to defend it. “Great,” she said, letting the topic go for now and making a mental note to jot down her address before Grace left tonight. “So how are things going with you?” she asked, happy to get the topic off of her.
Grace gave a bit of a shrug when Becka asked how things were with her. "Not too bad, I suppose," she told her. "Looking forward to starting to work at the store that is set up." It would be better to have something to do every day rather than trying to fill her day with random activities. She liked the idea of having a job, after all.
“Oooh, have you seen it yet?” Becka asked with some interest. She was curious about the store, even if she doubted she would buy anything from it. Why would she when she hoped to be gone from here soon?
“I looked it over a little, but I haven’t really went in and familiarized myself with it yet,” Grace admitted. She knew that she should have done that, but she had gotten caught up talking with Wu earlier in the day and prepping herself a little for the first patrol that she was supposed to do. She’d make sure to do it tomorrow, though.
“Ahh,” Becka replied with a slight nod of her head. It was still a new thing, of course, so it would probably take a little bit for Grace to familiarize herself with it. She bit her lip and glanced down then, having to mentally search for something to talk about which was something that she just wasn’t used to. She was usually good at this sort of thing. “So... Tell me about your family - what are they like?” she asked, though she hoped it wouldn’t be a difficult topic for Grace. And if it was, she would graciously accept a non-answer.
Talking about her family was something that Grace actually enjoyed, so Becka had picked a good subject. She smiled a little in thought before speaking. “I have four daughters. I was close with all of them before I came here. They even visited me in prison.” She was even closer with her two older daughters, but that was just by default that they had helped with the business while the other two had been too young for that sort of thing. “I think you and Helen are close in age, actually. She’s my oldest.”
Becka relaxed just a little bit when Grace smiled, relieved that she’d chosen a good topic to get the attention off of her. She even smiled a little bit when Grace talked about her daughters, thinking it was nice to have someone who might understand having a family that you were close to and missed desperately. It made her wonder if Grace would be able to follow through with the program, the leaving behind everything from your old life part, anyway. “Oh yeah? I’m twenty-two, and the third of four. Only I don’t have any sisters, just three brothers,” she explained.
"You actually are the same age as Helen." Helen was freshly out of college and fighting for custody of Grace's two youngest daughters at the moment. Of course, her husband was away ALL the time with his work, so Grace hoped that worked in Helen's favor. "I grew up with only brothers, so I understand what you went through there." She had been the baby of a bunch of brothers, who had naturally tried to insulate her and protect her from everything, but she had pushed and pushed until she got what she wanted. Grace was nothing if not determined.
Talking about family really was doing wonders for putting Becka at ease, and her smile softened some because of it. “What are your other girls’ names?” she asked curiously. She laughed lightly when Grace told her that. “My brothers were fun. Pains in the butt a lot of the time, but still fun,” she said fondly. God, she missed them. Andrew especially, though she did miss them all.
"Helen, Georgina, Delilah, and Crystal," Grace said, a warm smile crossing her face. She missed them dearly. She should still be at home and helping her two younger daughters grow up, but she was stuck in this place instead. She told herself that being here meant that she would be free a lot quicker. "Sounds alot like my brothers. Were yours protective, too?"
“Those are very pretty names,” Becka said musingly. She’d always loved her name, and she hoped that Grace’s daughters liked theirs as well. At the question, she let out a little laugh. “Oh, God yes. Andrew, my second oldest brother, was the closest to me, and he was always extremely protective,” she answered honestly. Rather than sounding annoyed by it, she actually seemed as if she missed that, even if once upon a time she’d found it very frustrating.
"Thank you," Grace said to her. Her daughters seemed fine with their names. Delilah herself seemed to get a little amusement out of the fact that hers came from a temptress in the Bible. Her children had the same sense of humor that Grace possessed. She chuckled when Becka said that her brother Andrew was extremely over protective. "Sounds just like my brothers, and father, too, for that matter."
Because she was talking about him now, Becka couldn’t help but wonder just what Andrew would do if he were here right now. He would be livid if he knew what had happened to her, and she felt more than a little sick to her stomach as she thought about having to tell her family. She didn’t think she would be able to keep them in the dark, though. No, they’d always been close, supporting and protecting one another, so she just wouldn’t be able to keep this from them. “My dad... He’s more quietly protective. He’s kind of a nerd,” she said with a fond smile. “He teaches high school English, and my mom runs a daycare.”
Grace could NEVER call her father a nerd. Her brothers had jokingly called him 'The Godfather' when he was out of earshot. ONLY when he wasn't around to hear, though. "Sounds like you've got some good parents, too," she commented, smiling a little. She could see how hard it was for Becka to be away from what appeared to be a very close knit family. "I'm not sure I could ever call my father a quiet anything," she admitted with a bit of a laugh.
In the MacKenzie household, nerd wasn’t an insult, not even close, so it wasn’t anything Becka’s dad would get upset about. “I do - they’re really the best. I got very lucky,” she agreed. Acknowledging it was just making her miss them even more, though. If she’d been on the fence before, this conversation was just driving it further home that she needed to get out of here and back to them. “Oh yeah? What’s your father like?” she asked curiously.
Not quite what she had meant to do with this conversation, but if Becka's mind was made up, the best she could do was gather more of her friends and see if they could all try talking her into staying together. "Sounds like," Grace said, nodding. "And my father...is the more quiet and stoic type. I never doubted that he loved me, though. He was just the type to show it with actions rather than words." Like arranging a hit on anything that hurt her. That was how love was occasionally shown in the Freeman household.
“Actions speak louder than words,” Becka parroted the oft-quoted phrase with a small smile. Of course, she had no idea just what actions Grace’s father showed that love in, but she assumed they were positive things. She just wasn’t one to assume the worst. “My dad’s always seemed to understand the importance of words, though. He would use them sparingly and always had - has a way with them.” She really didn’t need to talk about him in the past tense. “If he has something to say, you stop and listen to him, because whatever it is is important.”
Well, Grace still saw it as a well meaning gesture, so wasn't that part of what counted? "Sounds like your father is a very special man," she said, smiling. She hoped she met someone special when she got out of this place. Of course, she wouldn't have to worry about her ex. He'd likely be long gone. "Hopefully, you'll get to talk to him soon."
Becka’s smile was soft and affectionate as she nodded her head. “He is,” she confirmed. “And I hope I’ll get to soon, too.” It would really mean the world to her to be able to talk to her dad now, but there was nothing to do for that. She would just have to ask to go back to prison and hope that they would let her. And once she was there, she could reconnect with her family.