So this totally went in a different direction than I thought. However, it went in the right direction.

/

You knew this would be hard.

Turning around and facing the past is always difficult. Turning around and retracing your steps until you reach the start once more – back to the beginning of all your running…

…These kinds of things are not for the faint of heart, after all.

And so you knew it would be hard.

You knew that this course of action – feet firmly planted atop Pine Valley soil again – would either push you to be better than you've allowed yourself to be…

…Or you'd never change at all.

But you knew that this would be hard, that this would be terrifying, that this would be the most defining moment of the rest of your life.

You knew all of this…

/

…and that's why I almost didn't come back here at all, right?

/

"Sounds like those wheels are spinnin' pretty hard over there…"

Krystal's voice cuts into Marissa's thoughts, severing the intent of those mental ropes, and Marissa sighs into a bite of her food before reminding herself to pay attention to the present.

"Sorry. I don't know what's up with me today. Can't seem to get out of my head for too long."

Marissa follows up this comment with a roll of her eyes and a small smile. Krystal reaches out, touch tentative but still somehow sure, to rub a hand lightly over Marissa's back.

And it is a touch that conjures up memories of comfort, memories from some childhood that Marissa doesn't necessarily wants to think about right now. But Marissa schools her reaction, emitting a soft 'thanks' as Krystal slowly slides her hand away.

It's an odd thing for a person to feel like they are still getting to know their own mother; it's an odd thing to try and understand the ins and outs of this human being that gave birth to a child – but gave that child away, it's an odd thing to take note of David's sly smile or of weary frown against Krystal's mouth…

…And to see those expressions mirrored within my own face.

Marissa isn't sure she has handled this part of her life that well either.

She didn't just leave A.J. behind when she slipped away in the night. She didn't just cut all ties to J.R. and to his desperate philandering and to the new woman he wanted to build a wall around.

Marissa took a knife to these new parents, too, and treated them as part of the disease.

And yet here they are – mother and daughter, side by side, eating in a park - trying to figure out how to reach across the distance as best they can. It'll be a touch, it'll be a grin, and it'll be another hundred meals between the two of them until they either get it right or stop trying all-together.

"I'm a pretty good listener, if you want to talk about things."

And that's the thing: Marissa wants to talk about about everything – things she has yet to utter before and things she has probably said once upon a time, too. But tucked away in her easily distracted brain is yesterday; there is yesterday and the urge to divulge her life story to someone who she knew for only one night, someone she held for only one second – a lifetime in a single breath…

And so, suddenly, 'everything' seems like a whole hell of a lot to say to just anyone.

But being quiet isn't doing me any good either, is it?

"I knew it wouldn't be easy, you know, to come back here and try to fix things but I guess I didn't realize just how not-easy it would actually be… "

Marissa trails off at the end of that statement, flicking her tired gaze over to Krystal. The other woman just smiles at her, though, with a whole world of knowing written across her face.

"Oh honey, I think I wrote that song."

A chuckle sort of bursts out of Marissa's mouth unexpectedly and, like a balloon losing air, the tension slowly deflates around them.

"Well, if you'd like to share the lyrics with me, so I know what's coming up next? That would be great."

And Krystal's smile widens and that hand is on Marissa's back again and it doesn't feel as odd as it did only moments ago. It feels like someone trying to be there for her and Marissa doesn't want to shove another person away – like I am prone to do – so she tells her muscles to relax and accept.

"If I knew those words ahead of time, I wouldn't have made half the mistakes I have in this life."

But Krystal says this with a rueful shake of her head, as if the years have been unkind, and Marissa supposes that – in some ways – they have been exactly like that. Caught between a rock and a hard place, the woman sitting beside of Marissa has had to make decisions that no one wants to face. And Marissa does get it because she has stood upon that precipice several times as well. And maybe the choices made were not the best, not in the long run, but crying over spilt milk is just a waste of energy… isn't it?

At least, that's what Marissa tells herself.

And she suspects that Krystal repeats the same syllables, day in and day out, just to get along with all that's been done but cannot be forgotten.

"Is it J.R.?"

There's Krystal's voice again, attempting to draw Marissa further out, and so food is left behind in a quest to satisfy a deeper hunger, to satisfy this appetite for disclosure.

"Oh, no… Not really. I mean, he's being… well, he is being typical J.R. Suspicious and a bit of an asshole, but that's how I remember him to be anyway."

They both share an amused glance with one another at that comment for it is common knowledge in the realm of Pine Valley that J.R. Chandler – much like his father before him – isn't the easiest of people to get along with. He is very much a 'my way or the highway' kind of person and Marissa questions her reasons for getting involved with him in the first place.

But, of course, A.J.'s face pops up in her mind and there's the only reason she ever needed.

"How's A.J. handling you being back?"

At this inquiry, Marissa feels the amusement slip away from her lips, leaving only a soft smile behind in its wake.

"He's handling it great. Like really great. I… I think I was worried that, once he saw me again, he'd be angry with me or something… but he hasn't been that way at all. He wants me with him all the time, to meet his friends and to drop him off at school... He still wants me as his mother."

And Marissa didn't mean for that last sentence to come out of her mouth. She didn't mean to turn a chance at conversation into a full confession, didn't mean to reveal the constant worry that she's been carrying ever since she took off for places unknown.

That he never really needed me, that he never really loved me, that I was never really his mother at all.

"That's because you are his mother, Marissa."

And there are these voices inside of Marissa's head, voices that like to remind her of a sister she never knew and of how she inherited someone else's world – with a husband, a child, and brand new parents – due to the death of the preferred sibling.

None of this is really yours, that is what those voices like to say.

All of this is actually Babe's, that is what those voices like to say the most.

It isn't until Krystal's hand wraps around her own – warm and strong - that Marissa realizes that she had just been staring off into space, trapped in a never-ending parade with her own demoralizing thoughts. But that hold is so sure, so commanding, that Marissa has to look over at the other woman and there are her own eyes staring right back.

Eyes that know about regret, eyes that know about doubt, eyes that know about all the ways to flee from what is feared…

And it's an odd thing for a person to find a whole other life waiting on their doorstep, all stamped with a dead woman's love and longing. But there in Krystal's gaze is some kind of answer that Marissa has been denying for far too long now, some kind of honesty that has been pushed down repeatedly for the sake of not getting too close so as to avoid getting too hurt.

In those eyes so much like her own, Marissa catches a glimpse of what it means to face the truth.

"You are that boy's mother in every way possible, Marissa, and don't you forget that."

And isn't that the terror that she has been hauling around all this time, from Pine Valley to Mexico and then around the whole damn world? Wasn't it those doubts that kept her feet moving, that kept her heart from opening up again, that kept her from A.J's forgiving embrace for so long?

"Just hold onto that fact and you'll be fine… You hear me?"

/

And you knew it would be hard, coming back to what wasn't made for you – but somehow ended up being yours and yours alone.

You knew it would be hard and you know that it'll probably get harder still.

All those hurdles haven't disappeared just because you've decided to stick around this time, just because you won't allow your mole-hills to turn into full-fledged mountains.

You'll either jump them with grace or stumble to the ground.

And, oh, you knew all of this before you got on that plane, before you read that little boy's letter.

You knew all of these things so very well…

/

…and that why I had to come back here, isn't it?

/

Marissa turns her hand over so that she can intertwine her fingers with Krystal's and then she aims a watery grin at the other woman – at my mother – before a reply finally comes tumbling out.

"I hear you loud and clear."

/

To Be Continued…