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people: greta baker

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September 15, 2020

Regan's tagged in a video on Suddengram, but she doesn't get to look at it until she's taking the city bus from the school towards the countryside. Even then, she doesn't know why, because at first it's just a wild video of the sidewalk and a cluster of backs and heads. Then the frame settles on two people, two women, looking like they're having an argument. Regan still doesn't know why she was tagged.

Until the camera zooms in, and she sees Greta. She frowns, sitting up in her seat to curl over her screen. She can't hear anything, and the captioning on the video suggests that the phone being used is too far away to catch anything important, anyway.

And then the other woman, who Regan recognizes now as Anne, the lady who's been hanging around Greta a lot, lunges in for a kiss. Regan's eyes go wide. She expects Greta to rear back and slap her, but instead she just, just leans back in for another kiss.

What the hell.

Regan watches the video until the end, when the onlooker decides nothing else interesting is going to happen because Greta and Anne are walking away, now, hand in hand. She stares at the video as it cycles back around to the beginning, but she's not really registering it, this time.

The bus rolls to a stop, and someone taps Regan's shoulder. She looks up, turns off her phone screen, and grabs her things to hurry off the bus.

Okay, so... Greta's... gay now? Which is... fine. Regan's long since given up on the idea that someone who looks like her dad will appear and sweep Greta off her feet. In fact, that would probably be worse, at this point. But for some reason, seeing her guardian, her aunt, pretty much, kissing a woman — a woman like Anne, who's as much wild animal as she is person — is sitting weirdly with her. Regan can't help but think that Greta deserves better. Anne's a literal pirate, hard and angry and mistrustful. Greta deserves someone kind and warm, who will take care of her so she doesn't have to work so hard. Is that Anne? Does Greta see something that Regan just hasn't, this whole time?

There's a lot to unpack. Regan has a lot of questions — including 'Am I jealous?' and 'Am I surprised?' — and she's not sure of most of the answers. As she nears the cottage, she debates turning right around and going to Richie's, instead. She's not sure she's ready to actually talk to Greta about this stuff, and also, what if Anne's still there? That'll be... so awkward.

But at this point, she can see the cottage, which means that if anyone's looking out the window, they've already seen her. Turning around would make it really, really obvious that something is bothering her, and putting it off would just be rude to everyone involved. Right?

Wincing, Regan braces herself and finishes her walk home.

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Sending Anne on her way had been rather absurdly difficult, and if it wasn't for Regan and Saoirse's impending arrivals, Greta isn't sure how she would've managed it. Not when the temptation to just cling to her for the rest of the bloody day was so strong.

But if this was a shock to her, it's... well, she supposes it's not impossible that Regan or Saoirse noticed something (though the idea that she really was the last person to figure it out is almost too mortifying to contemplate). But she also thinks (hopes) that there are decent odds that neither of them have really considered it, either. And, that being the case, it didn't seem fair to introduce them to the idea with Anne present — not fair to them or to Anne. They deserve to absorb the news without feeling outnumbered, and Anne deserves a more considered response than whatever immediate reaction the girls might have.

She's still not sure how to impart the news, though. How to lead into it aside from 'so, it turns out I've been hilariously stupid.' God.

At least she has some time to work on it; Regan's just coming inside, but Saoirse will be another hour. Greta sets down her cup of tea and leans over on the couch so she can see into the front hall, then gives Regan a little wave. "How was school?" she asks.

There are a thousand ways to answer that question, Regan realizes as she toes off her sneakers. She could be a wise-ass. She could be genuine. She could not answer at all. But she actually does like Greta, even if she's confused right now.

"Fine," she answers, thumb tapping her chest even as her brows are still furrowed. She hesitates, bag still on her shoulders, before she walks over. Anne's not here, she realizes as she steps out of the front hall and into the room. She unlocks her phone screen. The video is still there, and begins cycling through again, but instead of watching it, she turns the phone around and hands it to Greta.

"Was this supposed to be a secret?" she asks — not angrily, not confrontational. Right now, it's just a question, because she doesn't know what else to ask that isn't How was the market?

Regan gives her a look she can't quite read, and then walks over and passes Greta her phone. Greta takes it, brow furrowed as she watches the video that's being played.

At first, she isn't sure what she's meant to be seeing; it looks as if someone is filming with their phone, and the view makes a few dizzying swings before it settles on two figures several yards away. Greta recognizes Anne at once, and herself and the market half a second later, and her cheeks flush crimson as she realizes exactly what she's watching. God, she should've guessed that something like this would happen; just because she doesn't use social media doesn't mean everyone else in the bloody city doesn't, and they were causing a bit of a scene. But it hadn't even occurred to her that someone might be recording them, let alone that Regan would see it before she even got home from school. "Oh, for—" she mutters, wincing at Regan's question before passing the phone back over.

"No," she signs emphatically, shaking her head. "I meant to tell you today. You and Saoirse." She sighs, watching for Regan's reaction, and then pats the couch in invitation.

Regan sort of drops into the seat beside her, still looking a little lost and confused. She looks over at her, holding her phone with one hand and looking down at the video.

Then she turns off her phone's screen and places it face down on her lap.

"So, you're... together, now?" She thinks about Thomas, about how he and Greta had been so close — and feels a little like a brat when she remembers how she'd behaved then.

Greta cants her head for a moment, considering the question — considering its potential implications, really. If Regan means 'together' in the sense that Greta and Thomas were together... well, it's not quite as—as standard as all that. But 'together' is a vague enough term to encompass plenty of nuance, so after a moment, Greta hitches her shoulders in an embarrassed shrug and replies, "More or less, yes."

She pauses again, wary of getting this wrong — of being preemptively defensive, or a little too flippant, when she still isn't sure what Regan thinks of the idea. She half-considers a joke along the lines of I was thinking we could give her your room, but doesn't have the nerve to follow through. "It was a surprise to me, too," she says instead.

Regan nods. She's still frowning, just a little, but it's not anger. She takes a breath and looks at Greta again.

"So... is she going to move in?" she asks next. There are other things she should ask, but that's the first one that came to mind. If she'd realized what sort of joke Greta would have made if she'd had the nerve, she would've laughed at how similar their thoughts were. As it is, she's pretty sure that if Anne moves in, she'd be sleeping in Greta's room.

Greta blinks in faint surprise at the question. She'd held off on joking about it because she hadn't wanted Regan to think that was an immediate concern, even setting aside the absurdity of Anne taking one of their rooms.

"I haven't asked," she replies. Hadn't even thought to ask, for that matter. It's not that she doesn't like the idea of it, but... well, this is all rather new. And while the benchmarks for what makes a normal relationship are rather different here than they were back home, she rather approves of some of the more modern notions regarding how swiftly things need be made official. Whether Anne might want to move in one day is something they can discuss (perhaps after things are ironed out with Jack); whether she ought to is, mercifully, less of a concern. "We're still figuring things out, but... I don't think we're in any hurry."

Which all feels a bit vague, but it's not as if they sat down and charted everything out. Greta purses her lips in thought, then ventures, "Would it be okay with you, if she did?" Whatever they end up eventually deciding, she doesn't want Regan to think her opinion doesn't matter.

"Sure," she says, bobbing her fist in a 'yes.' She answers quickly, like she doesn't need to think about it. The truth is, she's not sure how she feels about it. What she does know is she doesn't want Greta to feel like she can't be happy just because Regan might not like something. She'd spent enough time being weird about Thomas, about Greta's face looking like her mom's face, about the stupid sleeping trip back to those creatures. Greta deserves better than all of that, so if Regan can be better this time around, she will be.

Even if she isn't sure how she feels about her legal guardian suddenly being interested in women. A woman.

The response comes a little too quickly for Greta to fully believe it. Granted, Regan's been aware of the situation since... well, since whenever she saw that bloody video; it's not as if she hasn't had time to think about it at all. But it's still only been a few hours, and Regan was in school for most of them. She can't have spent that much time mulling it all over.

"Think about it," she suggests, before looking down at Regan's phone and puffing out a rueful sigh. "I'm sorry that's how you found out," she adds with a nod at the device. "I didn't even think that someone might be recording us." Admittedly, she'd been rather distracted, but still.

Regan huffs a laugh and makes a sort of 'well duh' expression. "You're sort of famous, remember?" It's not like she's a movie star, of course, but she was on Darrow broadcast television for weeks, doing that bake-off show. That was before Regan's time, but Saoirse doesn't let any of them forget it. "It was probably a fan."

She looks down at her phone and rolls her eyes at it. Stupid thing.

"I guess... you like her, though, right?"

"So I've been told," Greta replies, nose wrinkling in playful objection as she leans over to give Regan a light nudge. She'd like to think a real fan would respect her privacy (and going by the angle of the video, it wasn't taken by either of the people they'd run into prior to her and Anne's little... altercation), but between being loudly recognized and having a public row, she supposes anyone might've decided it was worth filming.

Her smile softens at Regan's question, and she can feel her cheeks prickling as she nods. "Yes. Very much." Maybe she should be grateful that's even a question; if anything, it's how fond Anne is of her that seemed noteworthy, and she'd been given to understand that her own feelings were bloody obvious.

But perhaps there's another reason Regan's asking, and Greta lifts an eyebrow before hesitantly asking, "Do you?"

Regan doesn't answer right away. Greta'd asked her to think about her answer just a minute ago, so she tries to at least do that now, even if her instinct is to rush to reassure her. The truth is, she doesn't really know Anne well enough to judge, and she feels guilty for doing that the entire walk from the bus stop to the cottage. Maybe she could try to be better, more friendly, but would that even be welcome? Maybe Anne doesn't care so much about the kids in Greta's life.

Then again, if she didn't, that'd be pretty telling, wouldn't it? Regan doesn't think Greta would stay with someone who didn't care about her and Saoirse.

"I don't know her very well," she admits. "But... I guess if you like her, and Saoirse likes her, then she's probably not bad, right? I just... don't want her to hurt you."

Greta nods, humming quietly to herself. Anne and Regan haven't overlapped much, and Anne's never exactly been gregarious, even without a language barrier to contend with. It's never been something Greta pushed, in no small part because... well, not because it was irrelevant, but because she'd never thought of what they were doing as—as courting. She hadn't had an eye towards making Anne part of the bloody family. She never would've presumed Anne wanted that; she still isn't sure Anne wants that sort of thing now.

But whatever they're doing, however it might be defined, it's fair for Regan to want some reassurance that it's not going to be a disaster.

"She's not bad," Greta agrees with a wry smile. "And I don't think she'll hurt me." Not as readily or as callously as the city might, anyway. In her experience, that's what pries relationships apart. "It might take us a little time to find our feet, but... I think that's okay." She gives Regan an inquiring look, hoping she might agree.

Regan nods slowly. She wants to believe that Greta's right. She wants to believe that Anne won't suddenly turn against her — against them — and and leave Greta heartbroken, with Saoirse and Regan there to pick up the pieces. And that's not how it happened with Thomas, by any stretch, but it's the worry she still has.

"I guess, yeah," she agrees, still keeping to softer, uncertain language. Like she's afraid of committing to one decision or another, in case it goes south. And maybe that's exactly what she's afraid of. Anne, to Regan, is an outlier, an unknown, and trusting her in any capacity, but especially with Greta's happiness, is scary. But if Greta trusts her, then maybe Regan can, too.

Regan still seems uncertain, but it's not like Greta can blame her, really. A small part of her is almost grateful that this has come as a shock to someone else, and that she isn't just uniquely dense herself.

"If it helps," she says, a bit hesitant out of lingering embarrassment, "I think Anne has wanted to be with me for a long time." Never mind when Anne clocked Greta's feelings, which she failed to even recognize before today. "She's been very... patient with me."

That has Regan lifting her eyebrows a little. "She... waited for you?" Regan hadn't really noticed Anne's feelings (or Greta's for Anne's). To her, they'd been friends, even if she didn't understand why. But if Anne's liked her for this long, and was just... patiently waiting for Greta to figure it out, then...

Then maybe she really isn't so bad after all. Maybe she's good for Greta.

Maybe she could be good for the family.

"She did," Greta says. She still feels a bit foolish over it, despite the fact that Regan, too, was apparently none the wiser. But she knows that once she's worn through her embarrassment, she'll just find it touching. That Anne cared enough to be patient, even if some of her caution — the implications tucked beneath her accusatory 'I don't belong with you' and 'you shouldn't want to be around me' — was needless.

"I know you haven't spent much time with her," she adds, something that now feels like far more of an oversight than it used to, "but I think you might like her, if you got to know her better." She watches Regan, her expression cautiously hopeful.

She wants to point out that Anne doesn't know ASL, but that's a weak excuse that she doesn't even have a reason to cling to anymore. She nods, with a small smile that suggests she isn't sure how she feels about it, but she's willing to try it, for Greta's sake.

"Do you think she's picked up any ASL from you and Saoirse?" she asks. She assumes she hasn't, but maybe Greta actually knows whether she has, and if she has, then that's something they can work with.

"I'd be surprised if she hadn't," Greta replies after giving it a moment's thought. There haven't been any focused lessons, but when Anne and Regan are both present, Greta tends to talk while she signs. It just seemed more polite that way, like they weren't going over Anne's head on purpose. And Anne's observant; it would shock her more if she hadn't picked up on anything, even by accident.

"Though I'm sure you're the better teacher," she adds, leaning over to give Regan a light, fond bump with her shoulder.

She rolls her eyes with faux-annoyance. "I've had some practice," she points out. Greta, Saoirse, her friends, her boyfriend. Regan helped or taught them all Sign in some capacity. Saoirse's favorite TV show helped her, but it wasn't the primary source of her learning.

"Do you think she'd want to learn?" she asks now.

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