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Vic plows through thick snow as she makes her way up the familiar path to Cady's front door, hands burrowed deep in her coat pockets. It's the first time she's been by the house since she moved out on her own again, and she suddenly regrets waiting so long. She regrets even more that she's showing up unexpectedly and without a gift - or something alcoholic, at least - on Christmas Eve.
Vic hesitates before knocking twice on the door, studying the snow-powdered decorations on Cady's porch while she waits for an answer. Soon, she hears footsteps, and Vic grins, knowing good and well that Cady is alone tonight, too.
Maybe this is fine.
"Vic!?" Cady exclaims as she opens the door, before Vic can offer an explanation. "Jesus, come inside! It's a blizzard out there."
Cady tugs on Vic's forearm, pulling her through the entryway. As soon as they're inside, Vic removes her layers, grateful for the cozy warmth of Cady's house.
Cady is in an oversized red sweater and black leggings that hug her form just right. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun and her thick, fuzzy socks are mismatched. She holds a glass of red wine in one hand.
"Ah ... sorry-" Vic says, giving Cady a pained look before continuing. She gestures with her hands while she talks, tucks stray hairs from her ponytail behind her ears, gestures some more. "I just got off work and I was afraid that if I kept driving I'd get stuck and not make it back to my place, and ... I guess that seemed a hell of a lot more painful than interrupting whatever you might've had going on here, and so ... am I interrupting anything?"
Cady laughs, rolling her eyes as she takes a sip from her glass.
"Vic, it's Christmas Eve,” Cady says. “I'm glad to have you."
"You're the best. Thank you. Promise I'll be outta your hair as soon as it's clear again."
"Stop it - of course. Stay as long as you need. Let me get you some pajamas." Cady turns, heading toward the other side of the house, then pauses down the hallway. "Oh, and Vic?"
"Hm?"
"Room's still yours."
Vic finds herself in Cady’s kitchen for the next couple of hours, catching up with her former roommate as they polish off the rest of Cady’s bottle of wine.
Cady finishes baking and frosting a double-batch of sugar cookies. Vic helps her dust them with red and green sprinkles. The hum of a Christmas radio station comes from the living room. Vic has never been one for holiday traditions, but she plays along for Cady, and not long into it realizes that she's enjoying this.
Vic’s chest aches a little as she realizes how long it’s been since they’ve done more than exchange pleasantries in passing around town. She feels an overwhelming sense of belonging and connection that she hasn’t felt in months.
Back when home meant lazy hugs after hard days, hands and bodies grazing during dinner prep, and accidentally falling asleep in Cady’s bed instead of her own. It settled in quickly when they lived together, and Vic had bailed when everything became too real and too desirable, more than she could grasp.
Tonight she can’t leave, though, and even if she could, she isn’t sure she’d want to.
On the job, Walt has occasionally mumbled this or that about Cady’s work on the rez, but Vic never gets the full story. The little Vic does know pales in comparison to what she’s learning tonight.
Cady shares a few victories, but they’re weaved in among a greater number of devastating, unresolved cases.
Vic does a lot of listening for a long time. After hearing all that Cady has witnessed, she’s sure that her own story won’t be so shocking.
“Apparently I needed to vent,” Cady admits like it’s an apology, after recalling what sounded like an especially upsetting and frustrating incident. “Enough about me, though - what’s been going on in the life of Vic Moretti?”
Vic finishes the last of her wine, takes a bite out of a cookie, wonders if this will ever be an easy conversation.
While Vic was and still is sure of her decision, her abortion isn’t something that she has talked about since her goodbye to the medical receptionist that day. But she trusts Cady, probably more than she trusts herself, or anyone else at this point in her life.
“Well, I was pregnant,” Vic says, and she’s surprised to hear steadiness and strength in her voice. “But I’m not anymore, by choice.”
Cady’s brow furrows, but she doesn’t say a thing, waiting for Vic to continue.
Vic starts from the beginning, and tries to not speed through this, but she doesn’t take her time either.
She explains that she didn’t know who knocked her up and she didn’t try that hard to figure it out. Through all the bouts of denial and the back-and-forth with herself, and even her first ultrasound, she knew it was not her time to become a mother. She knew it wasn’t fair to bring a child into her dangerous, broken, and financially-burdened world.
So, Vic found a clinic and a doctor, and she all but drained her savings and sought termination before she got too far along that she could convince herself to do otherwise.
Wyoming’s resources are unsurprisingly scarce. Vic took two days off work and drove over 700 miles before it was said and done.
“But it was done - is done - and I guess that’s that.”
Vic is unsure of what to say next. How does one transition from talking about her abortion on Christmas Eve?
Before Vic answers her own question, Cady reaches across the table for her hand. She doesn’t offer much else, but says, “That must’ve been difficult. I’m here if you ever need to talk more about it.”
Cady’s eyes are gentle and reassuring, her smile small and comforting, and it's her unfaltering sense of understanding that Vic most appreciates.
Vic wonders if maybe Cady has been where she has, too.
Vic wakes up displaced early the next morning, curled up at one edge of Cady’s living room couch, sharing a blanket with a snoozing Cady curled up next to her.
They must have dozed off in the middle of the terribly cheesy, but admittedly intriguing Hallmark movie they gave into watching at midnight. She can’t say it’s the first time that’s happened, albeit not at Christmas.
Vic nudges Cady, who stirs awake and covers her face with the blanket for a few seconds before briskly hopping up off the couch, in typical Cady fashion.
Cady smirks as she stands over Vic, holding out a hand expectantly. Vic groans, taking Cady’s hand, and standing up even though it’s too early and cold to willingly move this much.
The snow has stopped falling, at least for now, so they decide to brave the roads and deliver Cady’s cookies to the county’s lone homeless shelter.
“It’ll be an adventure!” Cady says excitedly as she makes two to-go coffees.
It always is with you, Vic thinks.
After delivering Cady’s cookies to the shelter and almost wrecking Vic’s truck three times in the process, they make it back to Cady’s house. Vic makes good on her promise, saying that she better head back to her place.
Vic thanks Cady for her hospitality then, and for spending the holiday snowed in with her when she wasn’t planning on having any guests.
Cady steps out of Vic’s truck, shuts the door, and responds through its open window, leaning on it in a way that makes Vic wish she wasn’t leaving just yet.
“It was fun,” Cady says simply, genuinely. “You should come around more often, and not only because a snowstorm is forcing you to.”
They both laugh. Vic turns toward her windshield to look at the road ahead, her focus blurred. She bites her lip, smiles back at Cady.
“Count on it.”