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Try as she might, Beatrice couldn’t shake away all of the old habits pushed upon her by her parents.
At least the habit of shining her shoes was less sinister than some of the other habits.
Plus, sitting in her own living room, in her and Ava’s house, their small, blue house that they bought together, with a beautiful garden they both tended to together early on Saturday mornings – Ava always complained about how cold it was but Beatrice knew she loved the fog that settled in their backyard and the feeling of walking barefoot on the dewy grass – she knew that her parents couldn’t touch her. Ever again – if nothing else, all the people around her would punch them in the nose if they dare tried to get their hands on Beatrice again. Beatrice knew they already had an order; Ava got the first honours, then Mary, and Lilith to finish it up.
She knew she was getting sidetracked. She just couldn’t ever get enough of what her life had turned into. She knew 15 year old Beatrice didn’t ever think that they would learn to love life again, and especially didn’t think that they would come to love shining their shoes. It was a simple, repetitive task. And as much as Ava had been working with her to be comfortable with separating herself and her gender identity and presentation from the traditional gender roles instilled in her since birth, it was still an action that Beatrice associated with masculinity, and for her, it was an outlet for presenting outwardly quite masculine.
Beatrice had grown into herself since their victory in the Holy War; they both had. She revoked her vows and she and Ava quickly decided to let their relationship be public – they told those most important to them, and let everyone else figure it out. Ava took Beatrice clothes shopping and Beatrice taught Ava how to cook. Beatrice finally went to an optometrist, not because she got sick and tired of hearing Lilith tease her, but because Ava was becoming a little concerned. Ava found ways to keep in regular contact and visitation with Diego, who had moved to a group home that he promised Ava was better than St. Michael’s. And, they got married. A private, small ceremony around 8 months after the end of the Holy War (Ava had proposed to her on the battlefield, a quick “marry me, Bea,” that Beatrice took seriously. Beatrice bought a ring the next day and proposed to Ava properly the next night under the stars on one of Jillian’s balconies).
When Beatrice asked for Ava’s help with cutting her hair short, really short, Ava went to a health and beauty store and bought everything they could need to make it look as good as possible. She watched videos upon videos of tutorials and made Beatrice wait a week total until Ava was confident she could cut her hair. She brought their laptop into the bathroom and insisted Beatrice put on her favourite show, saying that she’d get nervous if Beatrice was watching her through the mirror the whole time. Ava braided Beatrice’s hair before cutting it all off so that Beatrice could donate it; and when a few tears rolled down Beatrice’s face when she saw her hair falling to the ground as Ava buzzed the back of her head, Ava stopped what she was doing and held Beartice’s face in her hands and kissed her everywhere until Beatrice laughed and told her they were happy tears.
When Ava told Beatrice she wanted to pursue tertiary education Beatrice was by her side the whole time. When she took all her exams. When she opened her acceptance email. When she studies for end of semester exams. On her first day of classes, Beatrice went with Ava and walked her to each class and sat outside each one until she was done. She let Ava talk all about her day and took her out for a celebratory dinner. She still meets up with her for lunch when she can.
What Beatrice meant to say, is that she knew what she had, and that she would never trade it for anything.
Including things so mundane as polishing her shoes.
Beatrice heard keys jingling faintly, and then the sound of the lock in their front door turning. The door closed as she dipped her brush into more polish, and then she heard Ava sigh as she took off her shoes and moved down the hallway.
“Hey, honey Bea,” Ava said tiredly as she walked into the kitchen, leaning down to kiss the top of Beatrice’s head when she walked by her.
“Hello, love,” Beatrice smiled up at her. She put down her shoes for a minute to turn in her seat and watch Ava bend from the hips in front of their fridge.
Ava stood there for a few moments, unmoving, before Beatrice got up to stand behind her.
“What are you looking for?” Beatrice said as she rested her hands gently on Ava’s hips, startling her wife.
“I don’t know,” Ava groaned, drawing out her vowels. She closed the fridge and turned in place, leaning into Beatrice’s hold. “It’s not in there.”
“What’s not in there?” Beatrice asked, ever patient as she allowed one of her hands to wander up and massage Ava’s neck and shoulders gently.
“I don’t know. It’s just not,” Ava whined, quickly laughing with Beatrice when Beatrice chuckled.
“Would you like me to make something? We can have an early dinner, eat outside if you want.”
Ava hummed, and then pressed her lips to Beatrice’s collarbone in silent thanks. “That sounds nice, baby.”
It had taken Beatrice a while to get used to all the pet names, but she kind of adored them now. Thinking about how she never used to think she would ever even get the chance to talk with someone about what pet names she was okay with and which ones she wasn’t was enough for Beatrice to love them. Plus, Ava always looked so happy when she used them. As if she too never thought she would get the change to use, albeit slightly cheesy, pet names with someone.
“Do you want anything in particular? I didn’t have anything planned,” Beatrice said, continuing her ministrations.
“Gnocchi?”
Beatrice smiled at the way Ava pulled away from her neck and tilted her head up a bit as if she was looking at Beatrice, but still kept her eyes closed.
“I can do that,” Beatrice whispered, kissing Ava’s forehead briefly. “We still have the unopened bag from last week.”
“Yay,” Ava whispered too, opening her eyes and blinking slowly.
Beatrice tucked Ava’s loose hair behind her ear and tapped her cheek once, lightly, before they pulled apart. Ava moved to sit on a stool on the other side of their kitchen island, giving her a view of Beatrice cooking at the stove even though Beatrice’s back is to her.
“What’s all that at the table?”
Beatrice turned around briefly before she realised Ava was talking about her shoe polish.
“Oh, I was polishing my shoes for tomorrow,” Beatrice said, the ‘tomorrow’ in reference being about Mary and Shannon’s wedding.
“What are you, 70?” Ava teased kindly. “Your shoes are already the best looking out of all of ours, I wouldn’t worry too much, babe.”
Beatrice’s ears flushed red. “Well- I also like doing it. It makes me feel, um… masculine.”
As much as Beatrice had been working on it, she still struggled sometimes when attempting to talk about her identity and feelings in regard to it.
“Ah, okay,” Ava said. Beatrice could see recognition fill her eyes almost immediately. “Well, they look great. You’re doing a great job.”
“Thank you,” Beatrice said quietly, her smile small but genuine.
“How was your day?” Beatrice asked as she moved on to slicing bacon.
“Long,” Ava laughed, humourlessly.
“That bad?” Beatrice winced.
Ava sighed. “Not necessarily bad, just… I was tired, and I missed you, and I was overstimulated most of today as well. I just didn’t want to be there.”
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice said sympathetically. “You could have texted me.”
Ava waved her off. “It’s okay. I knew you were gonna be busy today, helping Mary and Shannon.”
“Still,” Beatrice insisted. “Hopefully it won’t happen again, but if it does, next time don’t hesitate to call me or text me. If you want, of course.”
Ava smiled, her lips pressed together. “Thanks, Bea. I will.”
Beatrice smiled and nodded, content, and turned her focus back to the bacon.
“Enough about that though, can you believe they’re actually getting married?” Ava asked overdramatically. “Not, like, a drunken fake marriage ceremony at their house that Camila officiates?”
Beatrice laughed lightly. “Yes, well, we know how opposed the both of them are to the traditional idea of marriage.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I’m surprised they actually did it, they’ve been in a relationship for so long. They’ve taken so long to get married.”
“Yes, unlike us. You just wanted to do it pretty much straight away,” Beatrice said, smirking a little.
“Hey!” Ava laughed. “You wanted to too!”
“Yes, I did,” Beatrice grinned as she turned around to lean over their island counter and kiss Ava softly. “And I’m glad we did. I love calling you my wife.”
“Yeah, me too,” Ava sighed, pouting and smiling at the same time in the way she always has. She crossed her hands over each other and leant her chin on them, watching Beatrice start to fry the bacon in a pan before getting up from the stool and walking around to hug Beatrice from behind, leaning her chin on Beatrice’s shoulder.
“Ava,” Beatrice chuckled, “Comfortable?”
“Very,” Ava turned her face into the side of Beatrice’s neck, nuzzling slightly.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” Beatrice said, shifting slightly to shield Ava from the spitting oil coming from the pan, “You won’t be able to stay here forever.”
“That’s fine. Thank you, Beatrice.”
“Anytime, my love. Always.”