Violet Ch. 01

"Look, I have tons of questions. I'm sure you do too."

Ariana nodded in answer.

"Can we, like, put that part of the reunion on hold for a while? Kinda work into it slowly while I get used to the idea of you and vice versa?"

"Yeah," she nodded, beaming.

***

Violet's first glimpse of her sister's dorm room was a lot to take in. She had thought she'd understood how overwhelmed Ariana had been when she first came into her own, but once she was there? In that room? It was a heavy moment. Books, posters, DVD's. She had a whole butterfly motif going on, and it was beautiful. Her sister was more than a dream, or an idea. More than a wish. She was a fully-formed person.

"Are those yours?" Violet asked, staring enviously at a pair of acoustic guitars at the end of the bed.

"Yeah," she said, biting her lip nervously. "I play a little. I'm not as good as you are."

Violet scoffed dismissively. "I can't play."

"No, I mean I've... um." She muttered quietly as she gives a particularly meaningful look to a particularly ordinary floor tile. "I've seen you drawing. In class, and, um..." Her cheeks flushed as she struggled to find an appropriate word choice.

The pit formed instantly in Violet's stomach. "You saw my tablet."

"Yeeeeaaah," she squeaked.

Violet tried to look elsewhere. At the pictures on her wall. Pictures of Ariana with their mother, which didn't help. "I uh..." Violet cleared her throat awkwardly as she backed away from the pictures. She recognized the woman, and not from anything recent. "I take some commissions from time to time."

That's the ticket. Pawn the content off on a paying customer, and nevermind the fact that Violet loved what she did.

Ariana sat down on her bed and took a deep breath. "I've spent most of the semester watching you scribble faces and shapes in the margins."

Violet found it hard to keep her brain on track. She slumped down next to her sister on the bed, and buried her face in her hands.

"Deep breaths," Ariana whispered.

"You're a person," Violet said through her hands. Ariana nodded slowly. "More importantly, you're not a stubborn hallucination."

"Stubborn, maybe," she admitted with a small smile.

Violet looked around, sighing. "This is real. You... you live here."

"Nine months and counting!"

'The heavy' began to settle in on her. Violet had a sister. The tears started soon after, and they didn't stop for a long time.

***

After a while, they rolled over onto the bed. Violet had cried more than Ariana. Her cheeks were puffy and damp as she huddled in her little sister's arms.

"Thanks for covering for me," Ariana whispered.

Violet had to pause to swallow; her voice hoarse and cracked around the lump in her throat. "You mean when Dad showed up?"

"Yeah. As much as you weren't ready forthis," she said, gesturing weakly to the room around them, "I'm not ready to meethim. I may never be ready." She pulled in closer, and the warmth of her body against Violet was reassuring. Just like shealways knew it would be. Violet scooted in as well, eliminating the space between them, and her sister tightened her hold.

It was more comfort from immediate family than she'd ever known. The tears amassed behind her eyes, biding their time.

"You're not missing anything there," Violet said, biting her tongue on saying that she felt the same way about their mother; by the look of the pictures, she and Ariana were close.One world-altering reunion at a time, she thought. "He's kind of awful. Well..." Violet took a deep breath through her nose. "I mean, maybe it's one of those things where I can't understand until I have kids of my own, but I just..."

Ariana shivered behind her.

"I don't know. I suppose it could have been worse."

"No, I get it." Ariana's breath was warm against the back of her neck. Comforting. Insulating. The room had a cocoon feel to it. It should have been the other way around between them, but what Violet really wanted right then was to fall asleep in her little sister's arms. "Growing up with just Mom was challenging."

"Is she sti—" Violet had to clear her throat to continue. "Is she still single?"

"...Yeah," she replied carefully. "She hassomeone in her life, but she never remarried."

Violet nodded slowly, her dark hair brushing against Ariana's nose. She wanted to ask more. It felt like a crack in the ice. Her curiosity was killing her, but she didn't think she was ready for it. She knew she wasn't.

"Do you hate her?" Ariana whispered.

Violet's chest tightened, and the tears came tumbling out. Ariana's arms around her were lifesavers against the undertow. This time, it only took her a few minutes to recompose herself.

"I did," she said, as soon as she thought her voice could handle it. "For a long time. At first, for leaving Dad and me. Then it was for leaving me. Later, for leaving mewith him." She took a deep breath, and it all started pouring out of her. "I had a good, long cry over it a couple years ago. My friend's mom died. Heart attack. She, my f-friend I mean... she was inconsolable, and I just— I flipped out at her. I freaked after the funeral. In front of her family and everything, raving about... yanno... 'youhad a mom', and 'she was always there for you'. Screaming at herat her mother's funeral. I wasso jealous. Seeing herthat upset at losing her momwhen she was twenty sent me off the deep end. We didn't talk for a while, she and I... but that night, after the funeral, I went home and broke into Dad's liquor cabinet. First time I was ever, like, for real drunk. I think I cried the whole night."

"Cried because you... missed her?"

"Missed her, hated her. Wanted her to be there right then, holding me? Don't get me wrong. As an adult, I kind of get it. Dad's horrible. He manipulates, and he.. ugh." Violet hated sniffling. "Sometimes, I think he's a sociopath."

"Mom said the same thing."

She sniffled again and rolled over, her forehead just touching her sister's. "He used to prod me about my grades. He'd say 'well, an A is okay, but it's not as good as an A+'... and I get pushing your kids to be better, but there was always this... look in his eye. Like it wasn't about helping me improve. It wasn't even about making me try harder for his affection. He cared more about watching me squirm." Ariana nodded and smiled sadly. "I have no idea why they split! I mean, Dad always said she left, but he'ssuch a fucking liar! I don't even know if she even had a say in it." Violet smashed her eyelids together as she tried desperately to fight off losing control again. "I'm sorry," she panted. "I didn't mean to make this all about me."

"You didn't," she quickly replied, but Violet was unconvinced.

"I have.. um... I have one memory of Mom." That one took a few breaths to get up the momentum for. "She's holding me outside, and it's bright. Real bright, and warm. I can't see her face. She's wearing this, like, blue dress though, and she's crying. And then Dad takes me, and that's it." She looked up to find her sister staring curiously. "They say you can't make long term memories before the age of four, but I think it's from just after the custody hearings. I was two and a half, and if you'reabout to be twenty one..." She wiggled a finger in the air above them and muttered. "Carry the one..."

Ariana chuckled. It was nice to break the heavy and get a good smile.

"She was already pregnant then?"

"Yeah," Ariana said softly. "As far as she knows, Dad never knew. She wasn't showing."

"Did she tell you about me?"

Ariana gave a mild shrug. "I knewof you, but she wouldn't tell me anything specific. We used to get into huge fights about it. Any time we fought aboutanything else, I'd make it about that too. Like she was keeping me from you and Dad."

Violet held her tightly, trying to make up for twenty years of missed hugs all at once. Ariana gave her an unreadable look in response... or maybe it's just that I don't know how to read her yet? Violet thought, and licked her lips.

"Do you still hate her?" she whispered.

"I sure thought I didn't," Violet scoffed. "I thought,fine. She's somewhere else. She's not in my life. She doesn't want any part of me, and I don't want any part of her."

Ariana nodded slowly.

"Seeing you though? I thought I had scars, but they were just scabs. Ripped 'em right open and started bleeding all over again."

"I'm sorry."

"Ok, you've gotta cut that out," Violet laughed morbidly. Her sister smiled sheepishly. "As soon as I saw your eyes, I knew. I didn't need anything else to tell me it was true." Her eyes drifted downward. "How could I hate her then?"

Ariana turned a shade of red her big sister wasn't aware was humanly possible, and she filed that away.

"I'm sorry. That wasreally sappy."

"I forgive you," Ariana giggled. "I didn'tactually know I had his eyes. Mom never mentioned that. Must've been hard." Her arms tightened around Violet supportively. "It's ok if you say no, but..." She bit her lip and winced. "...I want you to meet her."

"I-I..." For the first time Violet push back a little, creating space between them. "I don't..."

"It's ok. I won't—"

"No, I just... it's not that Iwon't." Ariana furrowed her brow, and Violet sighed. "I ju— I... I don't know when I'll be ready for that."

Her sister chewed on her lip, looking like she wanted to add something.

"Go ahead."

"I just think that when you meet her, you'll feel different. She's my best friend."

"Let me think about it," is what Violet said, but one part of her brain was looking at her sister's sincere smile knowing she'd do it for her, and another part was screaming that it was way too soon. It would still beway too soon years later.

***

Violet spent every night for a week straight at her sister's dorm. Her roommate never did more than check in for a few minutes before heading back off to someplace else, which made Ariana's place a far more attractive destination than Violet's. Ariana couldn't get enough of the things Violet wanted to show her. TV shows and movies. Obscure anime. Violet wanted to share everything she'd accumulated, and her sister was thrilled to be shown. They'd sit back against the side of the bed, embanked in a dozen pillows, and Violet would try her best not to talk along with every line she'd ever memorized. Not to laughbefore the punchline. Unheard-of levels of popcorn.

Violet showed her some drawings. She kept it PG, showing her sister some sketches of faces and objects. She never brought up herother work and neither did Ariana, who was particularly fond of a series of bodies in motion. Two guys playing football. A pair of joggers. A little girl trying to catch a butterfly with an oversized net. Every time Violet loaded up another one, Ariana's breath caught. It was impossibly flattering. Gavin and Clare had never cared for her art and thought it was a waste of her life to pursue it for a career. Other art students looked at what she did and either saw things to criticise or techniques to appropriate for themselves with as little fanfare as possible. Her teachers saw a grade. Even if it was a good grade, they were objective and rarely more than 'encouraging'.

Ariana, though, acted like every piece was the Vitruvian Man, or that she was a blind woman seeing brush strokes for the first time. She fawned over each piece and found things to compliment everywhere. Violet tried to brushed them off at first, but the more she went on the more Violet felt the honesty of it. Her sister was seeing aspects of her pieces that Violet knew were there but that everyone else missed. Spotting easter eggs without having to be shown, or told that there were any at all. That one of the football players had 'red on him'. As far as Violet knew, she hadn't seenShaun of the Dead until the week before.

It wasn't until Ariana picked up her guitar for the first time that Violet really understood. Watchingher play, doing something so beautiful so effortlessly, something that Violet herself couldn't do, was awe inspiring. She admired her dexterity, and her timing, and the fantastic sounds she could draw out of a few pieces of wood and a little bit of glue. When Violet watched her sister blush, it made sense.

Violet would like anything Ariana did. She was family. It's unconditional, unthinking, and at the same time completely genuine. Violet had never had that. She did her best to be as effusive as her sister had, and it didn't take much effort. Ariana was deceptively talented.

When they weren't together, it was emails. Constant emails. If they were in person to talk, that was one thing, but they both defaulted to writing longer emails rather than texting or calling. Ariana knew exactly what Violet meant about feeling confused when she could only hear someone and not see their body language. People take more care when they're using the written word than the spoken. Marginally.

It felt really good every time they collectively gravitated toward something. Nevermind that Ariana liked mustard and Violet didn't, or any other of the the myriad of differences; both of them preferring email felt huge. Every similarity was a tear-jerking moment.

Violet would check her phone every five minutes when it started to feel like the right amount of time for her sister to have read what she'd sent and send something back. Then every minute. She'd start to panic if it felt like it'd been too long, and every time that little blue light on her phone fired off, her heart swelled. Each returned communique revealed another shared interest, or a perspective she'd never thought about. Her sister was sharp. Hundreds of emails in a matter of weeks, and she devoured every one of them. Razor sharp. Violet was sprinting to keep up with her sister's wit, but it felt natural between them. The kinship had formed almost instantly.

She didn't even question it when her sister sent her an address. Of course she'd be right there.

***

The street was packed in both directions on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Ariana's Corolla sat in the driveway of the third house on the left, and Violet pulled in behind her.

"Hey!" Ariana cried through the screen door, as Violet came tentatively up the front steps. Her little sister's smile was amazing. People used to tell Violet that, when she was younger and smiled more, all the time, but she saw it in her sister much more quickly than she'd ever seen it in herself.

"Hey!" Violet said, as she stepped inside. Ariana slipped in quick for a hug. They hugged constantly. She was just as tactile as Violet. Maybe more so. That had actually been Violet's first clue with Clare. Her Dad had never been big into hugs, but she could remember running up to Clare when she was very, very little. Clare wasrepulsed, and that was when she was still actively trying to win Violet over. "Whose house is this?"

"A friend's."

The living room had a nice mix of furniture and open space. Light creme colors. The front of the house was faced to catch the afternoon light beautifully. It always struck her as odd that the first things she noticed were the color palette and the sight lines, but it came with the territory.

"Are they here?"

"Not yet. She should be back in a bit, though." Ariana's fingers trailed down Violet's arms as she pulled away, fingertips brushing against the back of Violet's hand. Violet needed nothing more than her desire to be near her sister to draw her further into the house, as Ariana led her through the kitchen and out onto the back porch. It was magnetic. "Iced tea?"

"Sure," Violet replied with a light shrug. Her sister poured her a glass, and they settled into a pair of padded adirondack chairs. "Do you often go into other people's houses when they're not home?"

Ariana laughed.

"No judgement. I just need to know if I need an alibi."

"I think we'll be safe," Ariana confided.

Violet was legitimately surprised she hadn't already plotted out the quickest escape route back to her car. Ordinarily, her stress level would have already been at DEFCON two having just walked in the door of someone else's house. "This is nice," she said with a happy sigh, breaking a minute of comfortable silence.

"Yeah, I like coming out here." Ariana tucked her feet up underneath her knees, and leaned back. She looked right at home. The small yard was fenced, and there was a big oak in the corner that covered nearly half the back lawn. An old tire swing hung from one of the low branches.

"Listen... I know that, as your big sister whom you're extremely proud of, you're just aching to show me off to all your friends."

Her sister rolled her eyes and laughed, and Violet grinned. "...but yanno, I'm... I'm not great with big groups."

"Oh. Oh!"

"So if it's gonna be—"

"No no," she rushed. "It'll be just the three of us."

"Ok," Violet said, trying hard to convinceherself that it was, in fact, ok. "So who is this friend?"

"Valentina? She's... um. Well... she's hard to describe." Ariana bit her lip as she leaned back. "She's one of those people that if I tried to sum her up, it wouldn't do her justice."

"That's a pretty name." There was one hair standing up on the back of her neck. A single, solitary hair.

"I've always liked it too," she giggled. "Oh, one thing though. She's a little older."

"Ok."

"I mean, like... her mid-fifties."

"Ok...?"

Ariana gave her an unreadable look, and she sighed. She made a mental note to learn to read her sister better.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm... I'm just second guessing myself is all."

"Well don't. It'll... it'll be fine," Violet assured her, despite her heart practically pounding out of her chest. Meeting new people was always an awkward affair for her. She'd only had a few friends in high school, but those friends were always trying to bring her into other groups of their friends and it never went well. It was the end of a couple of those friendships. She hated being so ungraceful. Violet would have said no to pretty much anyone else inviting her to a new place like this, but for Ariana?

Violet wasn't comfortable but she was there. That wasa lot.

It felt like a lot more thana lot when she heard the front door open and close. "Ariana, quién es coche está en el camino de entrada?" Two hairs. Two hairs were standing up on the back of her neck. "Es que su artista amiga que estaban hablando?" Slowly, very slowly, Violet turned to Ariana. She was looking back innocently, with a hopeful smile.

"Sí, Mamá," Ariana called.

Heels, sharp and clear, across the wooden flooring. Coming closer. "Me gustaría que se lo habría dicho a aparcar en el mercado de kosher vuelta de la esquina." Keys clattered and skittered across the marble countertop inside the kitchen. All of the hairs. All of the hairs on her neck. The voice was coming closer. "Por supuesto, lo que realmente quiero es que Volvo remolcado fuera de aquí. Que podría caber tres coches muy bien." Violet's throat choked shut, as she turned toward the door. Valentina stepped outside and smiled warmly, but the smile was short lived.

Her sharp suit, darker than navy blue, fit her like a glove. Like armor. Her appearance was a weapon. Black stockings enveloped her legs, ending in a pair of couture heels that probably cost more than Violet had ever earned doing commissioned art. Her long legs continued up under a skirt that rode the fine line between business appropriate and the hint of something more indecent. The jacket did little to hide the definition of her shoulders. Short, wavy black hair framed a face that looked younger than it should have.