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halfamoonTitle: Saying Goodbye
Fandom: Desert Hearts
Female Character: Cay Rivvers (cameo of Vivian Bell)
Rating: Teen
Summary: Cay's been to more funerals than she'd like
When she was growing up, Cay always thought of Frances as a little bit crazy. She was lost after Cay's father's death and she clung to Cay and Walter because they were the only parts of Glen who were left. In watching Frances fall into desperation and depression, Cay vowed that she would never let that happen to herself.
She'd got a postcard from Gwen's brother when Gwen had succumbed to breast cancer, a phone call from Joe saying that Silver had suffered a fatal heart attack. Two friends and sometime lovers that she'd known and cared about, taken too soon from the world. She hadn't been in time to do anything but send a condolence card for Gwen, but she'd gone back to Reno with Vivian to attend Silver's memorial service and they sat with Joe late into the night drinking and telling stories.
Walter came in person to tell her about Frances' death. The old lady had lived to be ninety-six and Cay had thought she would outlive them all. The two hadn't talked since Cay left Reno, but Walter would often tell Cay of Frances' issues stemming from her growing dementia. She'd died after a fall at the senior center where she resided.
Cay had told Vivian about it. “The funeral is in two weeks. Walter wanted his daughters to be there.”
“Do you want to go?” Vivian asked.
Cay exhaled a long breath. “I don't know. I feel strangely obligated to go. She wasn't my mother, but we were in each other's orbit for a long time.”
“Would you like me to go with you for support?”
“Would you want to go?”
“I doubt it would be something that Frances had wanted.”
“Frances is dead.”
“You should go. Be with Walter and the girls. Give them my love and tell them to come visit in the spring.”
“Okay.”
It was a gray winter day when Cay left New York for Reno. No train travel this time, just a quick flight across the country. She wore a green dress and boots that Frances would have admonished her for. Somehow it seemed fitting. The crowd at the funeral home was small; outside of Walter's family, there was no one she recognized. She wonder if Frances had pushed everybody else away or if she had just outlived all of her friends.
Walter gave the eulogy and Cay suddenly wondered who would be around to give her eulogy when she passed. Did she even want anything this formal? It was something that she didn't really want to consider. Vivian had tried to broach the subject on more than one occasion, even tried to insist on it the summer she had a health scare, but Cay wanted to think about Vivian's death even less than she did her own.
Cay suddenly felt very tired, as if the weight of the years had caught up with her. She hugged Walter and his girls and told them to visit, and then headed straight for the airport. All she really wanted was to be back home with Vivian. For as much as they had been saying goodbye from the start, she wanted to hold on for as long as she could. Perhaps she'd become more like Frances than she realized.
Fandom: Desert Hearts
Female Character: Cay Rivvers (cameo of Vivian Bell)
Rating: Teen
Summary: Cay's been to more funerals than she'd like
When she was growing up, Cay always thought of Frances as a little bit crazy. She was lost after Cay's father's death and she clung to Cay and Walter because they were the only parts of Glen who were left. In watching Frances fall into desperation and depression, Cay vowed that she would never let that happen to herself.
She'd got a postcard from Gwen's brother when Gwen had succumbed to breast cancer, a phone call from Joe saying that Silver had suffered a fatal heart attack. Two friends and sometime lovers that she'd known and cared about, taken too soon from the world. She hadn't been in time to do anything but send a condolence card for Gwen, but she'd gone back to Reno with Vivian to attend Silver's memorial service and they sat with Joe late into the night drinking and telling stories.
Walter came in person to tell her about Frances' death. The old lady had lived to be ninety-six and Cay had thought she would outlive them all. The two hadn't talked since Cay left Reno, but Walter would often tell Cay of Frances' issues stemming from her growing dementia. She'd died after a fall at the senior center where she resided.
Cay had told Vivian about it. “The funeral is in two weeks. Walter wanted his daughters to be there.”
“Do you want to go?” Vivian asked.
Cay exhaled a long breath. “I don't know. I feel strangely obligated to go. She wasn't my mother, but we were in each other's orbit for a long time.”
“Would you like me to go with you for support?”
“Would you want to go?”
“I doubt it would be something that Frances had wanted.”
“Frances is dead.”
“You should go. Be with Walter and the girls. Give them my love and tell them to come visit in the spring.”
“Okay.”
It was a gray winter day when Cay left New York for Reno. No train travel this time, just a quick flight across the country. She wore a green dress and boots that Frances would have admonished her for. Somehow it seemed fitting. The crowd at the funeral home was small; outside of Walter's family, there was no one she recognized. She wonder if Frances had pushed everybody else away or if she had just outlived all of her friends.
Walter gave the eulogy and Cay suddenly wondered who would be around to give her eulogy when she passed. Did she even want anything this formal? It was something that she didn't really want to consider. Vivian had tried to broach the subject on more than one occasion, even tried to insist on it the summer she had a health scare, but Cay wanted to think about Vivian's death even less than she did her own.
Cay suddenly felt very tired, as if the weight of the years had caught up with her. She hugged Walter and his girls and told them to visit, and then headed straight for the airport. All she really wanted was to be back home with Vivian. For as much as they had been saying goodbye from the start, she wanted to hold on for as long as she could. Perhaps she'd become more like Frances than she realized.
