Everyday tasks
Characters: Carmel and Becka Setting: Laundry room, early afternoon
Feeling even more emotionally exhausted than she would have thought possible, Becka would have been more than happy to just stay in the clinic all day and pray that no one needed her to be chipper and social. She just didn't think she had it in her, not with the things Adam had said to her, not with the way her mind kept going around and around in circles that brought her no closer to having an answer to how to deal with this situation. The need for food couldn't be continued to be ignored, though, and so after she and Cal had worked to get things going in the clinic for a while, she decided to break for lunch and to do her laundry.
Becka grabbed a basket from the laundry room before heading up to the first level for a sandwich from the kitchen, eating it as she went up to the second level to go to her room. She shoved her pile of dirty sheets and clothes into the basket, not concerned with sorting since there was no way she'd get full loads with as few clothes as they had. As she headed back to the elevator to go down to the basement level, Becka kept eating her sandwich, resolutely not looking at Adam's door and not wondering where he was or what he was doing. No, certainly not that. Becka left the elevator, balancing her laundry basket against her hip as she walked down the hall to the laundry room. No one else was there for the moment, so she picked an open machine and started her wash.
Carmel knew there were baskets downstairs for laundry, but she was tired enough that she honestly didn't want to take the trip all the way downstairs, back upstairs, and then back downstairs again. She peered at her bed longingly for a moment but knew it was a bad idea; nightmares didn't just happen at night. In fact, they were almost more common in the day light, because of the disorientation of being asleep at the wrong time of day. So instead of laying down, she pulled off her sheets (again), and bundled her laundry in the topsheet and slinging the unwieldy bulk over her shoulder. She'd fetch a basket to bring it back up in. She stifled a jaw-crackling yawn as she wandered through the door, grinning ruefully when she saw she wasn't the only one there. "Oh, hi, Becka," she greeted the woman. "I'm not the only one with this idea, huh?"
Becka glanced over when Carmel came in, giving her a weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Hey, Carmel," she returned the greeting, closing the lid of the washer to let it run. She'd planned to just go wait in the clinic for the load to be ready to be switched, but she found herself turning and pushing up to sit on the washer next to the one she was using. "Nope. I asked them about laundry on the second day in a requests thing, but never got any kind of response about it," she explained. "And I've heard people coming and going some already today. Cal and I have been working on sorting out the clinic."
Carmel noted the weak expression with concern, swinging her bundle from over her shoulder to the floor. She twitched the corners apart so she could start loading the first washer, though she tossed the other set of sheets aside. She would do both sets in a separate load and maybe bleach them, she thought. Briefly she wondered if they would give her a nice bedset if she asked for one. She wasn't terribly inclined to be asking them any favors, though, beyond food at the moment. "I had been wondering too, and worrying I'd run out of sheets," she said as she slowly loaded the washer. "I was going to peek at the clinic at some point. How's it looking?" she asked curiously, subtly studying Becka from the corner of her eye.
Becka watched as Carmel started her laundry, biting her tongue on the offer to help since it seemed she had a bit of a plan in mind for it as she set some things aside. She wrinkled her nose at the admission. "Yeah, I had to change my sheets cause I was sick when I got here, and I wanted fresh sheets when I was feeling better. And then, of course, I wanted to wash the dirty ones, but I was stuck with them sitting in my room for a couple days," she said, sighing and shaking her head. She was a little annoyed about that, but no use dwelling on it, especially since they did have a laundry room now. "It's coming along. They really did give us a lot for it, which is a relief. I think we're prepared for a pretty good variety of possible situations."
"Yeah, I changed mine the other day, and was hoping I'd get to wash them before I ran out or had to borrow from someone else," she said, though why she'd need to change them so frequently she wasn't completely sure she wanted to admit, though knowing her, she probably would. She looked up with a relieved look on her face at Becka's assessment. "Oh, good, I'm glad," she said. The jaded part of her said they were going to need the supplies at some point soon. "So it's coming along well... and yet you don't look very happy," she said, straightening from loading the washer and giving Becka a gentle, questioning look before going to get the soap. "Is something wrong?"
"Ah, yeah. Well good thing they finally gave us the laundry room, right?" Becka said, some amusement seeping through her rather dour mood. She understood the relief about the clinic, felt it herself. Heck, they'd just had a situation where it had come in more than handy, not that she wanted to think about that particular situation right now. Although Carmel's question kind of made it impossible to not think about it. She tried for a smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. "It's nothing," she lied poorly, pulling a face as she heard the lie loud and clear in her own voice. God, she really was terrible at that.
Though it shouldn't make her lips twitch, they did a little. Lord, she was a horrible liar. Carmel wasn't sure when the last time she'd seen that bad a liar; it had been quite awhile, certainly. She veered from going to fetch her laundry soap to go to where Becka perched on a washer. Her expression was amused and skeptical, and she reached out to squeeze the younger woman's arm. "I think we can both tell that's not true," she said a little dryly, but not cruelly. "What's going on? I can keep a secret if needed."
Sighing, Becka blew out a breath and blinked back the moisture that filled her eyes. God, shouldn't she be out of freaking tears by now? She shook her head, biting her lip. "It's not really a secret. I mean... I don't think it is," she said. Though maybe it was? How much should she tell anyone else about what was going on with Adam? She had no problem keeping other people's secrets, it was just her own that she couldn't seem to keep. "I just feel really stupid for not being able to stop thinking about it all today. I've only known him a few days, so he shouldn't be able to get in there and mess me up already," she whispered, looking down at her lap as she lifted a hand to press her knuckles against the center of her chest. She knew it wasn't exactly a coherent response, but it was the best she could give just then.
Carmel might not be getting out and about and around like some of the other residents, but she wasn't blind or oblivious. She'd seen Adam and Becka together several times, seen the way she looked at him, in particular. She knew that look. "Adam, huh?" she said, tilting her head in curiosity. She wondered what had happened; she really didn't know the boy to even think to predict what could have gone on, though with the way he also looked at Becka Carmel didn't think he'd taken advantage of her and then left her afterward. But in this place, you really never knew, and she was trying not to have any assumptions. She leaned against the washer, close enough to be supportive but not crowding her or offering a hug just yet. "What'd he do?" she prompted gently.
Becka nodded mutely when Carmel pinpointed Adam as the source of her conflict, breathing in deeply and twitching her nose a bit as she tried to fight back the tears. She was so tired of crying; it made her feel so young and foolish. "He didn't do anything," she answered with a little bit of frustration. And that was part of the problem. "I mean... Yeah, when I kissed him, he kissed me back, and he's all sweet and cute and awkward, and then bam! He can't even stand looking at me," she said, clapping her hands to emphasize before resting her elbows on her knees and pressing her face against her palms. She didn't know if she could tell Carmel why, but she felt like she should, because it wasn't like there wasn't a reason behind it.
Carmel listening intently, her attention completely on Becka. It struck her that the girl was really very young--almost painfully so, and naive as well. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just a dangerous set of traits to have in prison. After all, Adam had had to do something, or been supposed to have done something, bad enough to get him put in prison, in this place. But at least he hadn't taken advantage of her, Carmel thought with a soft sigh. "So he kissed you and then, bam, left?" she repeated, her eyebrows crawling up her forehead, or so it felt. She put her arm around Becka sympathetically, though she had no idea what to say in the face of that. It wasn't sounding like a logical thing for any red-blooded male to do in a place like this.
Sighing, Becka shook her head. "No, not like that. I'm not saying things in order like I should." She groaned softly, leaning against Carmel when she felt the arm go around her. It made her think of her mom and Lucy, which just made her even more sad with how much she missed them. "I like him a lot, and... I thought... think? I don't even know anymore. I thought it was reciprocated, but... He said I look like someone, and now I don't even know if he wants to be around me anymore. He walked out, just left me alone, and he didn't come back like he said he would. And then a little bit ago he says how he did come back, I just didn't wait long enough, but I waited all night," she rambled, still not able to put things completely in order.
The touch being welcomed, Carmel gave into her urge and hugged Becka, pressing her head gently to her shoulder and soothing a hand lightly, briefly over her hair. Carmel had had woeful little contact these last years, though there was the occasional younger woman who sometimes got a hug. There were the casual touches in the course of the day. But there weren't many times like this. This place was different, though, and she could do it again. "So you remind him of his old girlfriend?" she ventured, trying to put together what was a vague and unclear story. Personally, the guys who had so much of a type that all their exes looked alike sort of creeped her out a bit. "All night is plenty long to wait on someone," she said, knowing that she might not have given it even that long.
Becka needed the hug, the comfort it gave more than she could say, and she was grateful to Carmel for giving it. At Shakopee, it hadn't been the constantly tense, conflict-ridden prison setting you saw on TV, but nor had it been a touchy-feely, let's hold hands and sing Kumbaya or anything either. And visitors weren't allowed to touch, so even though she'd seen her mom and Lucy and other friends and family a lot, she hadn't had this kind of hug in a long time, the hug she'd had with Adam yesterday notwithstanding. She shook her head at the question. "No, not his old girlfriend." She didn't think so, anyway, but she could be wrong. Maybe it had been his girlfriend; maybe he was in for kidnapping and killing his girlfriend. And God, her chest hurt from the panic that thought filled her with. She wasn't scared of him, but how was she supposed to not wonder what had happened? "Yeah, it is. I mean, I was sleeping in his room. Umm, cause we painted mine, and the fumes, that's it," she hurried to explain, her cheeks flushing deeply.
Carmel kept one arm over Becka's back, supportive and caring. It felt good to take care of people again, and she wasn't protesting it. It made Carmel feel like a real person again, not just a prisoner. She had people to worry over, and feed, and hug. Her thoughts flitted from Dominic to Leandro to Becka, settling on the girl and staying, for she was the one in need right now. Her lips twitched faintly again as Becka stuttered and struggled through her explanation. "You're a grown up, it would be okay if you'd done more than that," she said, though she believed that Becka had done only that. After all, she already had plenty of evidence that the girl was a horrible liar. "So how long did he expect you to stay, then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "A night is a long time, especially since you've only known each other a little while."
Becka shrugged awkwardly, knowing that Carmel was right, but it had been a knee-jerk thing to make it clear that there hadn't been more going on. She picked at the hem of her shirt. "I know, I'm just... not that kind of girl." In a facility of convicts, and still she didn't want anyone to think poorly of her, she thought derisively. What was she doing here? She just couldn't see how she was going to come out the other side of this unchanged, and somehow she didn't think any changes that could result from prison for her would be good ones. "I don't know," she answered, voice a whisper. "He's dealing with a lot of stuff, I know he is. And I'm trying so hard not to take it all personal, but... how can I not?" She sighed again, shaking her head slightly.
"Nothing wrong with that, either," Carmel said matter-of-factly, shrugging slightly. "That's better than the other way around, at least to me." Safer. So many things you could catch these days, and she never had gotten how someone could be happy being promiscuous. Unlike some people at this place, she thought, remembering hearing something about some heavy flirting happening in the kitchen the other day, which made her want to scrub the place down. "Dealing with a lot of stuff isn't an excuse for bad behavior, most of the time," she said after a long moment of thought. "It might not be meant as personal, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt your feelings. It's always personal when you start to care about someone."
Becka smiled softly, appreciatively at the words. "I think so, too," she admitted. Not that she really judged others who did sleep around, she just didn't have it in her to do that because everyone had a right to live their life the way they wanted, and well, she couldn't be best friends with Lucy if she judged people that way. "No, it's not an excuse, it's an explanation, which are completely different. I can't even begin to imagine what's going on in his head, and I just wish he wouldn't push me away. It's like, one minute things are great, and then the next they're not, and I get no explanation for it, none that make any sense, anyway." She wanted to understand, and she wanted to really get to know Adam, but she couldn't do that if he kept closing down and pushing her away. "I do care about him, a lot. More than it makes sense to after only a couple days."
It was sometimes, in Carmel's experience, that explanations were just excuses in disguise. Not all of them, of course, but some of them, and life thus far made her tend to the side of skepticism and even cynicism at times, though she tried to curb it when she could. "A bit bipolar and terribly confusing," Carmel murmured sympathetically, squeezing her shoulders in support. "Patience is a virtue, yes, though you also deserve a more coherent explanation, regardless." It was only fair, and while life might not be completely fair, there were some things that should at least attempt to be. She wished she knew more about the situation, so she could actually help. "Sometimes things like that aren't supposed to make sense. The heart is weird like that," she said.
That wasn't a term Becka would have thought to apply to Adam, and she didn't really think bipolar was a good descriptor. He just had issues, and there were moments when those issues overwhelmed him. She understood that on a logical level, but there wasn't a whole lot of logic being listened to when she was feeling so utterly rejected. "So very confusing," she agreed with the second part, not comfortable with disagreeing outright with the bipolar part. She nodded mutely, agreeing that she deserved a more coherent explanation, but she was trying so damn hard to be patient, to let him open up at his own pace. She sighed, pulling her knees up to wrap her arms around them. "It doesn't make any sense at all. I just don't know what to do about any of it," she admitted, sounding as lost as she felt.
Carmel hugged her again, trying to think of what she could say or what advice she could offer. It was clear to her that she didn't know the full story, and likely wouldn't be getting it all completely clearly just yet. She also didn't know Adam, so she really could only draw on what little she'd observed and heard. It left her feeling a bit helpless, though that wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, especially in this sort of situation. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair again. "I wish I knew what to tell you. I don't know him or the situation well enough to really give you advice, or tell what is what. But is there anything I can do for you?" she asked quietly.
Becka hugged Carmel back, shaking her head at the apology. "It's okay. I don't really expect anyone to have any real advice." Not when she just couldn't tell anyone everything, not when she wasn't sure Adam would be okay with anyone else knowing details. "I just want to try and stay busy, try to figure out the next step." Preferably one that wouldn't have him ignoring her or walking away from her again. She wasn't even sure why it was so important to her that she keep trying with him, but it was. She wasn't ready to say it wasn't possible for them to have something, no matter how drear it had appeared to her this morning.
Carmel still felt bad that she couldn't seem to come up with a good spot of advice; generally, she had at least something, but she knew she had no clue on the full situation right now. "Staying busy is something I think most of us are trying to do. I'm doing a massive amount of pizzas later, so you're welcome to come to that too." Might as well get as many people who want to help involved with everything. "Though for the next step, I'm sure you'll figure it out, and if you need to bounce ideas or just a shoulder, you know where to find me, generally," she said encouragingly.
Nodding slightly, Becka scrubbed her hands over her face, thinking that Cal had said something similar. It was good to keep busy, and she was just thrilled that they had the clinic now, giving her something productive to focus on and keep busy with. "I might," she said, though she probably wouldn't. She didn't know how she'd feel later, but just then? She didn't really see herself feeling up to being social even in that way. "I appreciate that, really. I think.... If he won't talk to me, I'll probably just have to write everything out about it. Send him a message or something, because I hate how things are right now." No matter which way it went, she didn't think she could stand to just leave things as they were.
"Sometimes writing it all out and getting it down helps," Carmel said. "Whether you end up sending the letter or not, it can at least let you know what's all in your mind. Sometimes it turns out surprising," Carmel said in a tone that said she sort of knew how that went. "There was a point in time I wrote things out, tore them up, and flushed them. Never been much on this journal thing they have here, though I suppose I should do more with it." She'd always kept things either private or talked to people face to face, though. It was harder to put it where people might see it. And she suspected someone would see it, even if she put it on a private setting.
That was the hope, that writing it out would help her make sense of what was in her head. "Yeah, I'd probably send it, just cause... Well, if he can't talk to me face to face? I'll take what I can get..." And that just made her sound pathetic, didn't it? She felt just a little pathetic. She'd never been like this about a guy before, and it just made her feel so stupid. "Ah, I've... always kept a journal," she admitted. "And, I mean, you can set them to private and all." She'd done a couple private entries, not that it had stopped Adam from seeing one of them. It helped if you closed out of the thing before letting someone mess with your computer. Yet more reason to feel a bit on the stupid side.
"Maybe talking about it not face to face is easier. Or in the dark. It was always easier to talk to Franklin about some things in the dark at night." When he didn't have to look at her and remember, and she didn't have to look at him and pretend. But they could still hold each other. In the end it hadn't worked out--but it wouldn't be due to them not having tried. "Sometimes your darkest secrets and fears are easiest to admit when you pretend you're alone but you're not." And she would know. She nodded. "Yeah, I know you can. I guess it's just not something I'm used to." And she didn't trust it not to be seen by someone, but she wasn't sure she should bust Becka's bubble on that one. "I was always more of a 'and who is doing what tonight' and posting LOL cats before I went to prison than doing entries and stuff."
Becka nodded mutely at that, thinking that there was probably a lot of truth in the thought, not that she thought Adam would let her close enough to even try talking in the dark now. She was an optimistic person by nature, but right now she just couldn't seem to find hope in this situation, not with the way he'd been in the clinic and the things he'd said to her outside the elevator. "Yeah, sometimes they are," she agreed softly. She found herself grinning at Carmel's admission of what she did posted. "Ahh, LOL cats, endless entertainment there. I posted much the same, really. I was more a paper and pen for my personal thoughts kind of girl." Which didn't always work out for the best, especially the times Andrew found her hiding spots and teased her mercilessly about what she'd written. God, she missed him.
"Even if it doesn't work out, sweetie, it's not the end of the world," Carmel told her quietly, squeezing her again. "Trust me. It might hurt like hell, but you can survive, and will, and there are others out there--others beyond this place, if they let us out." She still ached often enough about Franklin, but she also knew that maybe, someday, she would find someone else. She'd survived worse, and even if it hurt, she would survive this. She grinned. "I loved those pictures. I miss all that silly stuff." She nodded at the mention of pen and paper. "When I did that kind of thing--therapist always said it was a good idea--I did it with pen and paper so I could tear it up and throw it away."
Blowing out a breath, Becka couldn't help but feel even more ridiculous about the whole thing. She knew logically that it wouldn't be the end of the world if things didn't work out with Adam, and she even knew that things likely wouldn't work out with him simply because he was the first guy she really wanted to give a chance to, but she didn't want to look at it that way. And why shouldn't she hope for good things, even though she really wasn't thinking further than what they could be to one another in here? "It just really hurts that he's pushing me away. But I'll get through it. I know it's not the end of the world." She would get through it, but that didn't mean she was going to give up on Adam. "Well, I know Autumn's trying to infuse some silly in this place, so hopefully we'll find a way to get through all this without going too crazy," she said, sounding optimistic about it.
"I know it does," Carmel murmured sympathetically. "And there is a chance things could work out. The Lord works in mysterious ways and all that, or karma or fate or just life, depending on your beliefs. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you." Though really such a sweet girl as this one could find a better person outside of prison, she thought. "I hope so, and I'm throwing a pizza party of sorts tonight, so maybe we can have fun with it. Leandro is going to be my helper, so I know I'll have fun at least."
Becka shrugged slightly. "Thanks. I'm not... I'm not really worried about the long term, though. I don't really think this is the kind of place to really think long term since we have no real idea what will come of this program," she explained. But not thinking too much on the long term didn't mean she couldn't live her life here and now. Wasn't that what Dominic had said just yesterday? That being here didn't mean they stopped living. She couldn't stop the faint grimace at the mention of a pizza party. "It does sound fun, but I'm not sure I'll feel up to it. I might grab a slice or two and just go watch a movie in my room or something," she admitted. She just wished that she could do it with Lucy. Her best friend always had a way of getting her mind of things.
"That's true, but you can't completely discard long term either, if this program actually is what it says it is." Though she was still at least a bit skeptical and waiting for the other shoe to drop, even if she showed a generally optimistic face to the world. She would take things as they came, as best she could, though she would admit she was enjoying the opportunities this place was giving her so far. Carmel felt a pang as Becka grimaced at the mention of a pizza party, though she hid it behind her friendly smile; it wasn't as if her feelings really mattered in this, after all. It was Becka who was hurting. "That's cool too," she said. "But if you want company, I'm sure you could just sit around with us."
Although she nodded slightly, Becka couldn’t say she completely agreed with that, and as usual, her open honesty won out, and she said, “Yeah, but who knows where we’ll all end up through this program? And, I don’t know, I don’t really think three days into things is the time to start really considering long term.” Why couldn’t people understand that she wasn’t jumping in with both feet, looking for forever? Yes, she was hurt and upset about Adam’s sudden rejection of her, as she perceived it, but that didn’t mean she’d even started to really consider any kind of actual future with him. They’d been in the beginning stages at most of whatever they were. “I’ll keep it in mind if I decide I want company after all,” she said with a small smile. “I should probably get back to helping sort everything out in the clinic though.” She'd come back in a little bit to switch her laundry.
"I know. I'm not saying it is, or that you should. I'm keeping both sets of options running in my mind for now," she told Becka honestly. There was no reason she couldn't have mental contingency plans for both ways of doing things. "That way, I'm prepared no matter what happens." She wasn't making any judgment on Becka one way or the other. She was just concerned about her. "That sounds good." She squeezed Becka one more time before moving back. "You know you can talk to me anytime, yeah?" She smiled gently at her. "I can change out your laundry if you want, though. I'll be here for awhile."
Becka nodded in understanding. She wanted to think that things would turn out good through this, but she supposed that somewhere in the back of her mind she was dealing with the question of where she would end up after this program. If home wasn’t an option... She didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to even consider how she would start over somewhere without the people she loved. “It’s good to be prepared,” she finally said. Becka returned the small hug before sliding off the washer. “Yeah, I know, and I really appreciate it, so thanks,” she answered with a smile. “Oh! No, it’s okay. I’m thinking it’ll be good to take breaks from the clinic work, so I’ll get it.” She headed toward the exit, pausing in the doorway to look back at Carmel. “Thanks though, for everything,” she said, genuinely grateful even if she hadn’t necessarily agreed with everything Carmel had said.
"No problem," she said with another smile. She felt a bit helpless, much as she did with Dominic the other day. She worried about these people already; she couldn't help herself. She just wished she had some answers for the both of them, and she worried that her cynicism, which she knew she hadn't always had at least at this strength, kept her from knowing what to say to make things even better. "You're very welcome. I'll catch you later," she said, headed over to get her choice of laundry detergent. God, she was so tired. And she really didn't like doing laundry.