Isaac/Ainsley: Violet

"Holy shit Isaac you're not gonna believe what I just saw!" wasn't a sentence I expected to be greeted with while preparing to walk SugarBunny at the godless hour of 8:30 AM on a Saturday. Heather sleeps past noon every chance she gets.

"Or, Ainsley? Are you still doing-- It's hard to keep track."

"Don't worry about it," I dismissed her completely reasonable question. "What's going on?"

"Violet's in Phoenix! Right now!"

"Violet?" The name did sound somewhat familiar, but I couldn't place it.

"Uh, my youngest daughter? I've talked about her plenty of times, don't tell me you forgot."

Right. Heather used to talk about her family and some of the drama surrounding her divorce a lot, especially earlier on in our Inn experience, but they came up less and less as Heather got settled in to Sara's life. That, or I got a lot better at ignoring it than I think I did. I mostly just let her talk at me while I paid the minimum amount of attention to get her to wrap it up sooner, but I remembered enough to know that Violet is about the same age as Ainsley and Sara, and it'd been over a year since Heather last saw her in person even before the Inn.

"I like to keep tabs on her Instagram every now and then-- don't look at me like that, I bet your mom does it too--"

"I don't have an--"

"And I saw she posted about being in town for a concert! Tonight! And I don't know why she's coming out here for it when she lives in LA and pretty much every artist also goes through there but she's here! It feels like fate. I'm never gonna get another chance to see what she's really like, on her own terms, eye to eye. I'm totally going."

I'd never seen her that nervous and that excited about anything. "Okay. Well, good luck with that. I'm gonna go walk the dog, so."

"Oh, you're coming with me."

"What? Come on. You know I'm horrible at places like that. Can't you get one of Sara's friends to go with you?"

"They don't get it. You're the only one I'm not gonna need to explain why I need to talk so bad to someone who doesn't recognize me."

"Heather..."

"I already got the tickets and I'm blowing off this guy I've been talking to for this. And, look. This whole time, have I ever asked you for a favor? I bet you don't have anything planned tonight anyway."

I hate how much of a pushover I can be, even without needing to uphold Ainsley's reputation.

We'd planned to arrive at the concert, which turned out to be some kind of EDM show with artists neither I nor Heather had heard of, early enough to be able to keep tabs on whoever entered the venue. That didn't happen because Heather felt like vetoing my outfit and insisting on letting her redo my makeup was worth the risk of blowing up her once-in-a-lifetime-chance. Between the leather shorts and sparkly, low-cut top Heather dug up from deep in Ainsley's closet, the (in my opinion) greatly overdone eye makeup, and the jewelry she had me borrow, I saw someone in the mirror who looked like neither Isaac nor Ainsley. It was... strange, and fortunately Heather provided the welcome distraction of rushing us out of there as if it was my fault we took so long.

One of the opening acts had already started by the time we finally arrived, and though the venue wasn't packed yet the crowd was still fairly sizeable. At least by my standards. I expressed my skepticism that two people would be enough to find one individual in this kind of environment.

"Relax," Heather replied. "I had to find my friends at concerts all the time, before cell phones! This is nothing. Been to plenty of shows wilder than this-- I saw Nirvana live, y'know?"

"You're always saying that, and I keep meaning to ask. Who's Nirvana?"

Heather went pale and froze, and for a moment I saw every decade she'd borrowed back from the Inn spill out onto her face. "...Ha! Good one, kid! Y'know, sometimes you're not so bad." I just let the moment sit for a little bit.

Heather eventually moved towards the edge of what was slowly turning into a moshpit, while I fanned out to keep being a wallflower. I tried to avoid the temptation to look at my phone instead of staring around like a complete weirdo, but after a few minutes I lost track of myself and my looking around became predictably half-assed.

I suddenly noticed a girl standing a few people away from me who matched the pictures Heather showed me earlier-- kind of tall, purple streaks in dark, short-cropped hair, a septum piercing. Damn it, I was really hoping Heather would be the one to run into her and I wouldn't have to do anything. But I knew Heather would never let me live it down if I blew this for her, and I made myself slowly approach.

"Hey. Uh. My friend's been looking for you, she really wants to talk to you." I didn't really make eye contact.

"Oh, I'm not poly, sorry."

"Huh!? What gave you--"

She gave me a closer look. I can't even begin to know what kind of vibe she got from me. "Why's your friend looking for me, do I know her?"

"...Sort of? She sort of... vaguely knows you. You probably don't know her. It's complicated, but she... wants to see you."

"This is some of the worst wingwomanning I've ever seen in my life." She snorted, but seemed to be in a decent enough mood that she wasn't actively trying to make me regret talking to her. "Is this about a commission or something?"

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe?" It'd have been easier to lie here if I knew exactly what type of commissions Violet was taking. "She just told me to look out for you, I don't really know what's going on with her. You're Violet, right?"

Violet was ultimately curious enough that she agreed to wait for her secret admirer. Fortunately, Heather wasn't too caught up dancing to miss the text I sent her and she came over and joined us pretty quickly. I bailed not long after the conversation started, when Heather asked Violet if she was dating anyone. After only another twenty minutes looking at my phone at the edge of the venue and two rejected invitations from randoms to dance, Heather sent a text, telling me that she was leaving the venue and to meet her at the car. I didn't need to be told twice.

We got in the car, lit only by the poorly angled, hazy streetlights and what little colorful glows escaped from the tiny window on the door. A clearly shaken Heather finally spoke: "You know what she told me? She told me to stop asking her all these questions, that I sound like her mom!" She laughed a bit, despite herself. "Like, come on. I know she can't possibly actually think-- but, God. Am I that obvious?"

I've never felt like I'm very good at comforting people. "If it's any consolation, I think if my mom had gone to the Inn instead of me and ended up in the body of a guy my age, and she ran into me somewhere after not getting to talk to me for months, it would've ended the same way."

"So I'm just, Mom," Heather said, looking down at her lap. "No matter what I do, no matter how I look or how much I embrace being this person I'm in... With Violet, or Jack, or Morgan, it's just... they'll never see me any other way, because I just can't help myself? They'll never let me in?"

"I can't tell you anything about being a mom, Heather..."

"What do you think I should do?"

"I..." How should I know? "I, don't know? Here's what I think, I think that's the first time you've ever asked me for advice."

Heather laughed, just softer and wearier than her typical cackle. "Fair enough, kiddo. Let's go home. Violet deserves to enjoy being young and having fun without any more interruptions."