#and if you want to get casey to that ranch a few years earlier i still think post-2015 yamaha test rider gig is the way to go!!

[batsplat]

this all makes me think—how much would casey have disliked racing against marc do you think? i wonder if vale would have gone even harder on the marc praise knowing it’d annoy casey + been even more disgruntled in 2015 when the consequences hit even harder in turn… and maybe we would have gotten a casey ranch visit even earlier had they had a Common Enemy in marc or something

yeah lol casey would've hated it, i've talked about this a few times before but the tldr is that this wouldn't have gone well at all. i mean honestly the intra-team shenanigans are the real killer more even than the aggressive riding, like back in the day plenty of people thought marc would get better as he aged and i think casey would've wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. something like the towing would've also made casey want to strangle marc but that wasn't as bad yet in marc's early years. but the sabotaging your teammate by trying to ensure they don't get the best parts thing..... pheww very very very very low tolerance for that kind of behaviour. and if casey did in fact have to regularly race against marc, it would really only take one or two proper scraps after which marc is completely unapologetic for casey to start souring towards the kid

also, obviously this is just guesswork, but i wouldn't be surprised if casey would've been... honestly, a little bit resentful of young marc. i mean it kinda sneaks in there anyway, he's pretty firm in dismissing the idea he's going to be paying attention to what marc does with his bike at the post-season 2012 test for instance. but... y'know, just a bit of the early dani vibe where dani was the golden boy in 2006 and casey was the satellite rider getting spare parts, feeling unacknowledged, invisible. casey emphasising the machinery disadvantage to dani in 250cc and said it did him good because HE learned how to deal with shitty machinery :)), casey FURIOUS when he's beaten by dani at assen 2006... how you read those little moments in later years where casey is a wee bit patronising towards dani... or there's casey's rather, uh, interesting reaction to jorge's arrival on the scene in 2008, which you can read as displeasure about how well jorge was received and also this tinge of real satisfaction at jorge's fall from grace... plus ofc various facets of the relationship with valentino... the thing about how casey won his first grand prix valencia 2003 and then went 'happy to beat someone sponsored by the circuit :))'.... like yeah obviously casey feels resentful and bitter a lot of the time more at seven, but the point is it can be aimed quite easily at specific rivals. teensy bit of jealousy there, envy feeding back into bitterness. i don't think casey LIKES this impulse and would deny he has it at gunpoint. he really really wants to be magnanimous and wants to see himself and present himself as someone who isn't bothered by the success of others!! which, listen, i'm not saying that's completely FALSE but it's also obviously not the full picture. and idk, marc is another honda golden boy who everyone just cannot stop praising even though he's had the path paved for him unlike CASEY who didn't have particularly competitive machinery at any point until he stumbled onto that ducati seat and now everyone's so excited just because marc is immediately fast even though casey was fast immediately too until michelin started sabotaging him and... you get the point. i don't think this is the main reason their relationship would go downhill but imo it would feed into it

and yeah lol. the thing about valentino's animosity towards casey is that he basically cuts himself off the moment that rivalry formally ends - since then it's been exceedingly one-sided on the insults front. the short reason for that is that valentino never particularly HATED casey, that if anything he did his best (valentino standards) to keep that relationship friendly for a pretty long time, and then a combination of casey figuring out how to get under his skin and prolonged competitive malaise pushed them into this weird cycle where they just kind of got a kick out of hissing and scratching at each other every other week. kind of like a stress relief tactic. but once casey's gone, valentino isn't going to do that anymore and the ill will fades REASONABLY quickly, where there's really only the occasional lapse in 2013 and then basically none after that. but if casey were still on the grid? well! laguna is a big one here, because it features one of vale's very rare 2013 lapses where he does do the little *cracks knuckles* well :)) casey minded when i overtook him at the corkscrew :)) but EYE don't mind because EYE have no problem with real racing :)) unlike casey :) routine. if valentino knows casey is still around and a rival and he can get whatever bizarre kick he used to get out of trading insults with casey, he would just be like. ten times more annoying about this. given what a massive massive massive sore spot laguna is for casey on fifty different levels, i cannot for the life of me imagine he reacts particularly well to this particular chain of events. this is something he feels very strongly about, he feels wronged, it is tied to an event where he felt humiliated....... and now he feels like it's being made a joke of. again. at his expense. one that marc is actively participating in. this is one of those things where casey might not actually push back too strongly at the time but he will not forget about it until the day he dies

and if you have a few too many things like that... casey said at some point in 2013 that he didn't appreciate how marc tries to not just beat but 'humiliate' his opponents. they actually asked marc about this in a press conference but the reporter made such a hash of asking the question that marc responds to something barely related and really not what casey was getting at in any way. but if you watch that presser... well, one of the three people in shot DEFINITELY got what casey was saying about marc and thought it was VERY funny. easy enough to extrapolate from that. ofc valentino was never going to enjoy any version of 2013 that involves him being pretty uncompetitive, but idk, it's not exactly a stretch to believe he would have massively enjoyed marc driving casey insane, kind of the next best thing. (even if only in secret - one interesting thing about casey's presence is that it makes valentino's whole 'humbled fun-loving guy fighting to get back to the top but just having a laff :)' gig of 2013-14 a bit trickier to sustain. super dignified response to jerez 2013 from vale for instance where i would politely question if this completely chimes with his internal monologue. casey's truly unparalleled ability to use his words to get under valentino's skin would come through for us once again.) which is something else that i suspect doesn't massively endear either of them to casey. AND because it's casey and you get a paranoia bonus, valentino doesn't even HAVE to be showing he's enjoying it or even enjoying it at all for casey to believe he is. so that's perfect

anyway, once the vale/marc honeymoon ends... tbh i kind of conceptually struggle to imagine casey managing to stick around past 2014, like it just feels by then he'd be so so sick of this shit. however many titles he wins during that time period (i'd put my money on at least one but who knows). but sure, for the sake of speculation, let's say he sticks around at least a little longer, without being directly involved in the 2015 title fight for whatever reason. now, tbh, i think by this point his stance on the vale/marc situation broadly amounts to 'they deserve each other', and it's perfectly possible that at this stage his active animosity towards marc outstrips even his hostility towards valentino. (short term thing, over the arcs of their careers obviously valentino has the power to hurt casey in a way marc does not.) i think it's also plausible that once valentino gets his act together again competitively in 2014, there's a bit of a detente in the casey relationship and they do slip back into their early slightly edgy camaraderie. but. but. sepang 2015 presents SUCH an open goal for casey that there is no version of him that's going to be able to resist that one. it's too easy. we see this in real life too, of course casey is going to use that to have a go at valentino, how could he possibly stop himself

(one more thought here: going off the resentment and bitterness angle................................................. i mean. hear me out. it's not IMPOSSIBLE that some of this resentment towards marc ends up being quite valentino-specific. the idea is that casey looks at the 2013-14 marc/valentino dynamic and goes 'where the fuck was that energy for me'. for which there are completely rational non-casey-related reasons like 'valentino wasn't washed back in 2007', but that doesn't change the fact that marc is getting distinctly more head pats in 2013 than casey was in 2007. two full years of uninterrupted head pats. casey was being laguna'd in year two of his rivalry with valentino. how is this fair. so actually i do reckon that late 2015 would also be accompanied with just immense amounts of schadenfreude aimed specifically at this relationship completely falling apart. this real marriage of 'huh you thought you were different did you' with 'well valentino does do this to his rivals :)) what a shame that poor marc has had to discover that :))'. quite honestly i'm unconvinced irl!casey doesn't feel that way. the point is that this too manages to further decrease casey's sympathy levels towards all parties involved, though i'm sure he'd do his best to pretend he's feeling ever so sorry for poor marc. in that same super convincing tone he uses in his autobiography to describe jorge in 2008 starting to smash his body up immediately after being arrogant towards casey)

but also i don't really think valentino,, like, cares necessarily when casey does this - certainly not for more than a couple weeks - because going by real life he does seem to be able to filter out a fair bit of vitriol coming from casey's end. casey and valentino reached that really cute point of being enemies where they'd kind of already said so much shit about each other that there's basically no insult that could really make things WORSE. with some of valentino's oeuvre, if anyone else said that about casey he would still be bringing it up and be extremely not over it, but given all the other stuff valentino's said it's kind of... whatever. with some of the stuff casey said, with some guys that would be valentino's primary association with them and he'd still quietly loathe them for it. but casey was saying that stuff every other week and also aren't passionate rivalries great so. who cares! which is what gave the nadir of their relationship this real charm because they knew how to provoke each other, regularly did that, had a bit of a go at each other and then moved on. and then did it all again. something quite funny to how when casey's providing his framing of that relationship, he never even brings up any of the more wildly out of pocket things valentino said about him towards the tail end of casey's time in motogp, the stuff i think you could justifiably still be mad at!! it's really just valentino not being nice enough to him in 2007 that TRULY bothers casey... which suggests that 2012 at latest really was a bit of a free pass for both of them. like i said, cute! but anyway, the point is there's probably nothing casey could have feasibly said after sepang 2015 that would have burnt that bridge forever, and also casey wouldn't even harp on about it for TOO long once he's gotten it out of his system. doesn't care enough about marc irl, let alone in a world where they're probably enemies by this point. and there's a decent chance marc has chased casey out of honda, which can't help

anyway i don't think casey gets invited to like,, bitching sessions with valentino at the ranch because that's not really how either of them operate. i do think it'd be funny if you have this vibe in 2016 similar to how valentino rediscovered how much he loves chatting to dani in pressers, but an even wilder version of that with CASEY. and broadly both of them would probably be inclined to allow that relationship to get a bit less chilly again. feuding with three top riders at once is just unfeasible for valentino, who tf is he supposed to yap at in social settings. so i think you might naturally get to a place where casey is more venomous towards marc than towards valentino and where valentino is more *gestures* bleh towards marc and just kind of uses the good old 2007 charm on casey. AND where valentino already starts editorialising the casey rivalry as good old-fashioned honest hatred, not like this backstabbing nonsense. so no front against marc - casey CAN be pushed into that sort of behaviour cf the 2011-12 dynamic of trying to establish anti-valentino age-based solidarity with jorge + dani, but doing that with valentino is a step too far tbh. BUT implicitly a realignment is certainly possible, even though casey still semi-regularly gets overtaken by fits of schadenfreude over 2015 and valentino just filters this out or whatever. charming in its own way

[alj4890]

Delicate

(Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Nevarkis) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crackship Series

A/N Picking up directly after Drake's visit and fallout. This will lead into the Christmas season, with Ethan inviting Olivia to spend the holidays with him and his father.

@jooous ​ ​ @krsnlove ​ @nomadics-stuff ​   @twinkleallnight ​ @motorcitymademadame ​

Masterlist

Part 5

Ethan knew something was wrong. Even without his highly attuned ability to detect the slightest tics and movements people made when dealing with pain, he still would have known that Olivia was upset.

What bothered him was that she felt the need to keep it hidden.

He thought they were well past the stage of not being completely honest. It had been one of the most difficult yet rewarding part of their ever developing relationship. It was terrifying and freeing to be able to tell her anything.

Ethan knew he needed her. He had made it a point to never allow himself to need anyone. He once believed that it was a weakness, something that any sane person should be able to do without. One should be able to stand and face whatever life threw at them without having someone there to help you through it.

Or so he thought until Naveen nearly died.

Then seeing Bryce's reaction when Casey was poisoned.

Those two situations had opened his eyes and made him come to some uncomfortable conclusions about himself.

He was human. And what did all humans share? The ability and need to love...to have someone all their own to be there during life's brightest and darkest moments.

As he finished prepping the turkey breast for tomorrow's dinner, his eyes drifted over to the one he believed was his someone.

He hoped that he had become Olivia's.

"How was your day?"

Olivia shrugged. "Fine for the most part."

Ethan washed his hands then reached for a bottle of wine. Setting two glasses out, he filled them while studying her.

Olivia muttered her thanks when he handed hers to her. She absentmindedly swirled her wine while a slight frown formed.

Ethan reached out and caressed her cheek. When her eyes met his, he allowed her to see his concern.

"Drake came to my apartment earlier." She blurted out.

"He did?" Ethan gestured for them to move into his living room. After settling comfortably on his sofa, he patiently waited for her to continue.

"Yes." She bit out. "He supposedly came on his way to his family's ranch to show me pictures of the progress on the hospital. Her frown eased at that memory. "I can't wait until you see it. It is turning out just like we hoped."

A hint of a smile formed on his lips over this shared dream of theirs coming about. "I can't wait either."

Hearing Ethan say that caused the gnawing worry to grow even more. Was it the beginning of the end for them? Drake's parting words kept repeating over and over her mind. Somehow they seemed more prophetic than insulting the longer she dwelled on them.

"You really think this Ramsey is what you need?" Drake taunted. "One day you'll leave here and he will see the real you in Cordonia. This Boston bubble you're living under is going to pop. What will he do when he sees you as a duchess, mingling amongst the court?"

"You think he'll adore you then? Just wait until he hears all the tales of your years of temper tantrums and cruelty."

"Liv?" Ethan pulled her into his arms. "What happened?"

She didn't want to tell him. She hated this fear Drake had caused in the one area she had come to love. The simple happiness she had found in Boston was now tainted with doubt. He had made her once again hate herself.

Was her act of redemption going to never end? Was she to pay for every word and action she had done for the rest of her life?

Does nothing I do matter?

She closed her eyes tight when Ethan brushed a tender kiss to her furrowed forehead.

I don't deserve someone like him.

His hand rubbed her back in soothing circles while he waited.

Olivia felt tears prick her eyes. He was the only person she had ever known to give her physical comfort. The way he held her as if she was precious to him without trying to turn it into something sexual made her want cry.

She couldn't lose this. Lose him.

But she also couldn't deceive him.

"Ethan," her voice trembled making her hate herself even more for needing him, "You know about my past with Drake."

She felt him tense yet he continued to try and soothe her.

"I do."

She looked up at him and saw his own face etched in worry.

"He...we got into an argument about that and..." It was too hard. She couldn't stand the thought of destroying the way Ethan looked at her. The way he cared for her...

"Olivia," he tried not to let his fear take over of losing her to her former lover, "are you trying to tell me that you..." He couldn't get the words out. He couldn't stand the thought of going back to how his life was before she became a central part of it.

His mind stuttered at that. Medicine had once been his central part. Everything in his adult life had revolved around it. And while it still was a big part of who he was, Olivia had somehow created a niche all her own in that center. Somewhat entwined in it, yet on a personal level, he found that every decision he had made from the moment they met were made about her. From choosing a restaurant she might like to moving to her country to work at her proposed hospital, she had become his life.

Had Drake unknowingly destroyed his life in one brief visit?

"That I what?" She asked.

His blue eyes held her green. "That you want to get back together with Drake?"

Her eyes widened. "Good Lord, no." Her nose wrinkled. "That is the last thing I want."

She felt his arms relax as they cuddled her closer. His forehead dropped against hers as he dealt with the heady relief that her admittance brought.

Realizing he had been scared she was ending things caused a need to reassure him. Her lips met his in a tender kiss. She could feel the deep longing he had for her in his response. He still held her gently as their kiss came to an end.

"What did he say?" Ethan asked.

"He was angry that I don't see the need to keep discussing why our barely a relationship had to end." She bit her lip. "Then he brought up you."

Ethan arched an eyebrow. He had not been around the man enough to form an unbiased opinion. He knew the flare of jealousy was from what he assumed was going to be an attack on his own character in the hopes of stealing Olivia from him.

"What about me?" He didn't bother to hide the annoyance tempering his tone.

"How you'll be when you see me in Cordonia." Olivia averted her eyes. "And how what we have here will be completely destroyed."

His eyes narrowed at such a choice of words. "Why would it be destroyed?"

"Ethan, you," she lowered her head into her hands for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she forced the words out. "You know some of my past already. You've witnessed my temper. But I...I used to be cruel. I've changed these last few years, and it has helped heal relationships I have with some members of the court." She looked up at him to see how he was reacting. "But Drake believes once you hear their stories and see me as the prideful duchess that you will not want to be with me."

"First off," Ethan snapped, "he doesn't know a damn thing about me or how I feel about you. From what I know of you, you deserve to walk into every ballroom with your head held high." He snorted in irritation. "They should be begging for your attention."

Olivia briefly smiled at that. Only he could turn one of her faults into a compliment.

"Secondly, I haven't been known to be the kindest doctor to work with."

"Your patients would disagree."

He huffed. "That's because I work to help them." He pulled her closer within his arms. "Jerk might be the nicest word interns and other medical staff have referred to me." Ethan pressed another kiss to the top of her head. "And my quick temper might give yours a run for its money ." He grinned when he heard her muffled laugh. "And I've never been known for being a forgiving man."

She wrapped her arms around him as she settled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "If anyone tells you about me, then--"

"I know who you are, Olivia." Ethan stressed. "I will never hold your past up as a standard to measure your actions by."

Silent tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"Don't thank me." He grumbled. "And don't believe what Drake said." He grimaced as a thought struck. "Though I can imagine why he acted like he did."

She swiped at her stray tears. "You can?"

He nodded before resting his cheek against her head. "Who knows how I would react if this was reversed? I might have lashed out at you in frustration if you refused to give me a second chance."

She lifted her head to see his face.

He met her gaze and softly smiled again. "Especially since I am in love with you."

"You--" her lips parted in surprise, "You are in love with me?

"I am."

Olivia knew in that moment what was truly in her heart. All the questions she had asked herself that morning finally had an answer. And all because Ethan had done the one thing that no man had ever done before.

He did not judge her for her past, her name, anything. He accepted her, faults and all, and loved her for every single part.

"I love you too." She smiled against his lips. "I have never loved anyone like I do you."

Their kiss held a new edge to the usual passion. Having expressed their feelings, the need to show just how much they loved one another took over.

While clothes were beginning to be hastily tossed around the living room, Olivia's phone vibrated softly in her purse.

***************

Hearing the beep, Drake cleared his throat. "I know I am probably the last person you want to talk to but I need to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of what I said. I wish..."

He took a deep breath. "I wish you would give me a second chance to show you that I do care the way you wanted me to. I know you're with Ramsey now, but I want to try what you asked me all those months ago. I want to be with you, out in the open."

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling of his hotel room in Kentucky. "I won't keep bothering you. I'll give you time to think it over and wait until the New Year's Eve Ball to hear your answer." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Hana said you told her you'd be back by then. I hope I didn't...didn't ruin what chance I could have."

Pausing once more, he dropped his head in his hand.

"Take care, Libby." He said softly before ending the call.

******************

That night, Oliva felt once more at peace. In the darkness of Ethan's bedroom, she smiled at how he was spooned around her. His slow deep breaths of sleep lulled her even more into the addictive security his presence gave her.

She kept replaying his words of love in her mind. In many ways it surprised her, and yet deep down she thought she must have already known. Every action, every kind word, every kiss had revealed that he had given her his heart. And she in turn had given him hers without even realizing it.

As hard as it was to find some type of silver lining to Drake's hurtful words, she supposed she should be grateful for them. Her sharing it had possibly prompted Ethan to tell her how he felt about her.

She yawned while snuggling back against her doctor. His arms pulled her even closer as he slept.

She felt both exhausted and wired. The day had been filled with one extreme emotion after another. And yet, the words both men had said kept her awake.

Olivia didn't know if she had it in her to forgive Drake. To have someone that you actually trust bring up the worst pieces of yourself as a threat to ruin the one good thing you have...how could he do that to her? She had been hurt when he didn't return her feelings, but this fight today had damaged them to the point that she wasn't sure if she even wanted him as a friend.

I would never say something like that to him if he managed to find happiness with someone else, she thought to herself.

Ethan had been much more understanding of Drake's actions than she could ever be.

She knew it wasn't necessarily a good thing that she never gave people second chances. Why would she after all the betrayals she had suffered in life? She barely needed both hands to count the number of people she had over the years that had never betrayed her.

Had Drake entered into the category she kept for her parents, Lucretia, Constantine, and numerous nobles at court?"

I don't know, she thought. I don't know how I feel over what he did.

She thought about his voicemail. It didn't matter how sincere Drake sounded or that he now wanted to try. His apology seemed hollow. Perhaps it was because he truly didn't know her now. These months in Boston had changed her, possibly even more than she realized.

She wasn't the same proud duchess that had once sworn vengeance to anyone who opposed her. She had learned the difficult art of give and take. She made herself listen and think through everything before losing her temper or forming a hard decision. It had been an ongoing battle, but she felt that she had a somewhat better control than she once had. Today's fight with Drake had proved that she wasn't the same quick tempered, plan to skewer a person on the edge of her dagger she had once been. She had stepped out of her comfort zone and lived for the most part as a normal person, proving to herself that she truly could survive on her own in any situation.

This venture had shown her that she was more than what her ancestors had stressed a Nevarkis should be. The people in Cordonia would most likely still see her as her old self, but she knew and it seemed that Ethan did also who she truly was. Her strength, her refusal to back down from a fight, her very heart had been used for good.

Drake didn't see it. He never saw the potential she had to do something meaningful and right. Maybe it was because she hadn't allowed him to do so. Maybe they really never had a chance to see the best in one another.

Could we have found a way to happiness if we had not spent years torturing each other with our spiteful words?

Deciding that that was a thought that would probably never be answered, she closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep.

********************

Weeks went by too quickly for some and not nearly fast enough for others. Edenbrook had closed its doors leaving many with bittersweet emotions. Ethan, Naveen, and Olivia had spent what free time they had packing and shipping their personal belongings to Cordonia. Decisions were made for the two doctors to stay with her in Lythikos while they searched for homes of their own.

While rushing about, Amanda and Thomas came to help a week before Christmas.

On their second night together, the ladies sent Ethan and Thomas to get dinner, giving them a moment to talk alone.

"Did you come for me or for the snow?" Olivia teased when Amanda insisted the two of them take a break from packing and go for a walk.

"Since you have always had the best snow," Amanda replied with a twinkle of mischief, "I always come for you."

She laughed when Olivia snorted.

"Are you excited?" She prodded as their boots crunched in the snow.

"About finally seeing the new hospital?" Olivia linked her arm through Amanda's when they entered a nearby park. "Of course."

"I am too." Amanda took a deep breath and cut her eyes toward her friend. "And I am very excited to see you and a certain doctor together at the New Year Eve's ball."

Olivia didn't bother to mask how happy she was. "I have something to tell you."

"Oh?"

"Ethan, he...on Thanksgiving, he admitted he is in love with me."

"About time." Amanda grumbled playfully. "Each time I visit, I see just how much he does love you."

Olivia stopped their progress through a path of lighted trees. "You knew all this time? Why didn't you tell me?"

Amanda's laughter at the death glint in Olivia's eyes echoed across the park. "Because you would have dismissed it like you always have whenever I brought up heartfelt emotions."

She placed a hand on her hip and somehow did a convincing impression of Olivia. "Please. No man can truly capture a Nevarkis heart, much less make me willing to be his," Amanda managed to twist her lips in disgust like Olivia's as she flicked her hand in a very recognizable gesture, "love slave."

Olivia rolled her eyes while struggling with her laughter. "I don't sound like that."

"Not now that you're in looovvve." Amanda responded playfully.

"Why do I share things with you?" Olivia muttered.

"Because you love me." Amanda wrapped her arm around her. "Not as much as you love Ethan, but I can live with that."

Olivia snorted again as she tried to brush it off. As hard as she tried, a soft smile formed on her lips. "You're right."

"I am happy you both know how you feel about one another." Amanda's teasing turned serious. "It would have driven you crazy with trying to guess."

"I suppose it would have irritated me." Olivia admitted. 

“I know it would have driven me insane watching you both tiptoe around the issue.” Amanda grumbled.

“It surprised me.” Olivia admitted. 

“It did? Why?”

“I--I suppose I didn’t expect it to happen.” She felt embarrassed just saying it. “I don’t think I ever thought I would meet someone to feel like that... I never thought of any of it happening to me.”

Amanda's heart ached at realizing just how damaged Olivia still was over her parents. Nothing hurt her more than seeing her friend still believe that she was unworthy of love. To be this surprised over a man falling in love with her proved how much she doubted herself. Perhaps it was why Olivia continuously pushed herself to serve Cordonia in any way possible. It might be why she never backed away from danger.

Compliments and recognition had been the closest she had to receiving love in her life

Amanda felt herself adoring Ethan even more for showing Olivia that she herself was loveable. She wasn't the prickly cactus that she had given Liam at his coronation. She had a tender heart, one that any person would be lucky to earn.

"I love him." Olivia broke into Amanda's musings. "It's different from what I once felt for Liam."

Amanda squeezed her in a side hug. "One sided love usually is different. Having someone give their heart to you and work in the hopes of you giving them theirs, I can't think of a greater gift than that."

Olivia nodded. "Ethan does that. I thought that maybe after we admitted our feelings that he would slack off trying to," her brow furrowed at trying to find the words.

"Sweep you off your feet?"

"Yes." Olivia's nose wrinkled out of habit over something so sappy. "He now seems to work even harder to not only keep my love but to make me love him even more."

"Good." Amanda linked her arm through hers again. "He better or he will have me to deal with."

Olivia burst into laughter. "And what will you do if he doesn't?"

Amanda's smile grew. "Don't worry. I've been trained by the best on how to torture a man." She winked at her friend. "You always did give the most interesting lessons."

*****************

Christmas was approaching and with it, Ethan invited Olivia to drive to Providence to spend Christmas with him and his father.

She was both excited and extremely nervous to meet his one family member he had a relationship with.

She was completely out of her depth in this situation. She had never had a man invite her to, "meet the parents,". She knew though how big this was for Ethan to include her in his family's Christmas tradition.

He seemed so happy, so proud, to introduce her to his father.

The drive over had been filled with his sharing some of his childhood memories. Her hand had remained in his as she watched the play of emotions on his face. He was opening up to her again, showing how much he trusted her with these bits of himself.

The modest, in need of a new coat of paint home had surprised her. She didn't know why she expected Ethan to have had a childhood a tad more luxurious than this. He seemed so cultured at times, that it impressed her even more that he had learned all of it on his own.

Ethan's father, Alan, had come outside to welcome her while helping with their luggage.

The genuine delight in the elder's face at meeting the woman his son had brought home made her feel slightly giddy. He teased Ethan with saying he had not done nearly enough in describing how pretty she was.

"I did." Ethan teased back. "You just didn't pay attention."

The three shared a meal with Olivia watching in fascination at their closeness. So many of her friends either had parents dead or were not close to them at all. This was something entirely new.

Alan had charmed her into sharing a little about herself. His understanding smile and deep laugh had made her relax. After dinner he pulled her away from the table while ordering Ethan to do the dishes.

"You're taking her to the mantle aren't you?" Ethan grumbled while fighting a smile.

"Don't worry what we're doing." Alan reciprocated. "Just make sure to soak that pan before putting it in the dishwasher."

Olivia allowed herself to be ushered into the small den. A Christmas tree stood with slightly old ornaments next to a warm crackling fire. Her gaze lifted to the different sized picture frames on the mantle.

Picking up one that seemed to be the oldest, Alan handed it to her. "This was a few weeks after Ethan was born."

Olivia's lips curved at seeing what looked like any other baby. She studied each picture he handed her, giving her glimpses into Ethan's life. Her smile grew at a photo of a ten year old Ethan smiling while puppies crawled all over him.

She then noticed the woman in the background.

"That's his mom." Alan's joy seemed to dim some. "She had been the one to decide we go to a nearby farm to let Ethan choose a puppy for his birthday."

Olivia studied the image of the woman who had so easily left her husband and son.

How could she do that to him?

The sound of Ethan returning caused Alan to quickly switch the picture for another one.

"Here he is with his first car."

"Dad." Ethan grumbled good naturedly. "I'm sure Olivia doesn't want to go down through every mundane event in my life."

"I do." Olivia blurted out. Heat flooded her cheeks. "I like seeing your childhood."

Alan beamed at her. "Here's one of my favorites. He was around five years old and had opened a clinic for stuffed animals."

"Did he?" Olivia cocked an eyebrow at Ethan.

"I'll have you know that I save many from losing their limbs." Ethan smiled at her laughter. "I had to since most of the injuries my toys suffered were from my rigorous playing."

The three sat down and began to talk about Ethan moving to Cordonia.

"You will have to visit." Olivia insisted. "You will always be welcome in Lythikos."

"I plan to." Alan stood and stretched. "I think I'll leave you two to get some sleep." He patted Ethan's shoulder then squeezed Olivia's hand. "I'm so happy you're both here."

Ethan settled his arm again around Olivia once they were left alone in companionship silence.

"Your father is very kind."

He chuckled. "Yes, I know. Nothing like me."

She smirked at him. "Don't sell yourself short. You have your moments."

"I do, huh?"

"I think so." She snuggled closer within his arms.

Smiling to himself, Ethan reached into his pocket.

"Olivia?"

"Hmm?"

He held a box out to her.

She sat up with a start when her eyes fell upon the little velvet box.

"I think you know what I'm about to ask." Ethan said softly as he opened it for her.

Carefully lifting the diamond ring that sparkled in the firelight, he paused right at the tip of her finger.

"You know how much I love you." His vulnerability was once more on display. "You make my life better than I thought possible. I need you, your passion, your heart." He glanced down at her hand trembling in his grasp. “I can’t imagine a life without you by my side.”

His bright blue eyes lifted once more to her green ones shimmering with unshed tears.

"Olivia, will you marry me?"

[smokinholsters]

Reckless

I started this story towards the end of Season 11. Pretty dismal day around here today and finishing this was a result of that mood. It's by no means a happy story but it ends well, with love and the family moving on. This is a one shot.

“Wait at the top for me Georgie.” Lyndy called out as Phoenix pulled out ahead up the hill.

“I’ll wait Lyndy, don’t worry. Ease up Phoenix, Spackle’s not as big as you are.”

Spackle was Lyndy’s new Quarter Horse Pony, black and white in equal measure he was by all accounts a beautiful paint, the foal of two barrel racing champions that Casey found and bought for her 5th birthday.

“Whew, good boy Spack” Lyndy said stopping alongside Georgie and reaching down for the water bottle that bounced on Spackle’s saddle. “Here Georgie have some” she said after taking a sip.

“Getting used to riding him Lyndy ?”

“Oh yeah, Spack’s great, Grandma Casey said he can do barrels and poles soon.”

“She was very happy when she found him for you.”

“I love Grandma Casey and Grandpa Tim.”

“We all do sweetie, ready to go on ?”

“Let’s go a little faster Georgie.”

“Ok, ready to canter, no galloping yet Ok, I know he’s a pony but much bigger than Monty.”

“Ok Georgie and now TJ can ride Monty.”

“TJ can ride Monty with help, he’s still very young so you have to be careful when you help.”

By all accounts Lyndy was an amazing rider who not only had a natural seat but showed remarkable intuition in handling, transferring command to her legs easily as if she’d done if for way longer than her age would account for. She was also fearless of them and had at even this early age an affinity, a gift or specialness with them.

“Poppa’s teaching him, every day, I help sometimes.”

“He loves being on a horse just like you.”

“There’s our new house Georgie, it’s almost ready.”

“Moving in a couple weeks, are you excited ?”

“Yup, Momma said we can just walk over to visit now, or ride my bike and soon Spack on my own.”

“Not before your folks say it’s Ok Lyndy.”

“Oh sure I know that.”

It had taken longer than they had thought to get the house done but it was. Everyone chipped in their time in helping the contractor get done. The interior was quickly being finished and as far as Georgie knew the appliances would be transferred from the loft to the house during the week to be hooked up. Almost there. Jack and Mitch had cut the road to join the house with the main entrance to Heartland. It wouldn’t be that much of an extra chore this way to include the new house in snow clearing, a huge concern come Winter.

“Looks like GG and Grandma are walking over to help.”

Jack and Lisa saw Georgie and Lyndy come over the rise and set out to meet them at the barn.

“She rides just like Amy did.” Jack said watching the two make there way slowly towards the barn.

“She loves that horse, I still can’t believe what Casey paid for him.”

“Not all that much considering that horse’s pedigree Lis, the foal of two national champions.”

“Well I’ve never seen a more handsome paint Jack, that’s for sure.”

“And the perfect size for her.”

“Hi Grandma, Hi GG” Lyndy called out waving.

The watched as Lyndy stopped Spackle and patted his neck. “Good boy Spackle, now stand Spackle” she said as she pulled her leg over and dropped smoothly to the ground. “What a good boy” she said reaching into her pocket for a treat.

“Can you help with my saddle GG ?”

“I sure can sweetheart.”

“And I’ll help you brush him out Lyndy.”

“Thanks Grandma.”

One of the things Amy and Ty had insisted on was that the tradition of calling Lisa by her first name was not going to happen with their kids. The family strove to make sure this came about. Rather than anything elaborate they decided that Grandma would be fine and both Lisa and Jack were more than fine with that. When TJ came along that tradition was continued. As a matter of fact around the homestead Casey was also Grandma and they sorted it out between them. Both Lisa and Casey were perfectly fine carrying the same name. Jack was still GG across the board.

“Where’s Momma and Poppa and TJ ?” Lyndy asked helping Jack wipe down her saddle before moving on to Spackle.

“Poppa is with Grandma Casey and Grandpa at the rodeo grounds looking at horses and Momma is in town with TJ. They’ll be here for dinner.”

“Soon we’ll be right over the hill GG and we can see each other all the time.”

“We sure can sweetheart and we can go riding after school.”

“When is school GG ?”

“Kindergarten starts in September sweetheart, a couple months away, we have all summer first.”

“Is Poppa going away in the summer ?”

“I don’t know if anything’s settled yet Lyndy, we just have to wait but he won’t be gone too long.”

“I know, momma misses him when he goes.”

“Not you ?”

“Me too.”

“Well you both love your Poppa so that’s understandable. It’s Ok to be a little sad sometimes.”

A light rain had started when they were in the barn and after stalling Spackle and Phoenix they walked over to the ranch house where they settled in the living room at a small fire Jack set to chase away the rainy chill. Georgie excused herself to work on college applications. She was applying for the same 7 year Vet Program that Ty and Cassandra had attended. It certainly wasn’t a lock but with Scott and Cass’s recommendation and her work with the nature preserve and the clinic along with her grades which had been good she was hopeful.

Lisa sat with Lyndy and read a book with her, Lyndy had been getting better and was making and sounding out more and more words. Jack sat reading the latest copy of Alberta Angler when they heard the familiar chirp of a truck passing the front gate. A new security feature they had installed since the ranch had been invaded a few years earlier.

Jack walked over and out onto the porch and welcomed Tim and Casey.

“I thought Caleb was with you, we need to talk about the appliances getting moved.”

“We rented a reach fork truck, nice and easy Jack, I think Wednesday.”

“The rest of the loft is empty ?”

“All empty except the built ins and the appliances which are all disconnected. We’ll lower them down to the hay truck, drive both to the house and haul them in. Caleb’s picking up Cass and the baby and they’ll be here soon. The vet truck Cass uses is in the shop for shocks.”

“Come on in, and warm up a little” Jack said holding the door for Tim and getting a hug from Casey.

Lyndy came over to hug Casey and Tim when they sat and soon Lisa was in the kitchen getting ready to start dinner and Casey was sitting and continuing with Lyndy’s reading. When the book was done Lyndy sat with Lisa’s iPad and watched her favorite show Equus, Story of the Horse that had come out a couple years earlier. She loved watching the horses and listening to the story of how they came to Canada and about all the different kinds of horses in the world.

As dinner came closer the gate alarm chirped again and Casey glanced up to see the large burgundy pickup pulling up to the house.

“Lyndy, momma and poppa are here.” Casey called into the living room.

“GG save my place please” Lyndy asked and Jack took the iPad and shut everything down.

Lyndy wandered into the kitchen just as the door opened and Cass walked in carrying a weepy little boy.

“Oh what’s wrong ?” Lisa sang gently.

“He’s cutting a second molar, he’s miserable, you have one of those big frozen teething rings on the freezer door Lisa ?”

“Sure do, a couple actually, here you go TJ” Lisa crooned offering the ring by placing it gently agains TJ’s hand. He took it instantly and Lisa watched it go straight into his mouth.

“Let me take him Cass” Lisa said sitting down.

“Here TJ, go to Grandma and momma will get some medicine.” Cass said after kissing his head gently and walking over to the corner cabinet to extract a bottle of liquid Tylenol.

“What’s wrong with TJ momma ?”

“New tooth sweetheart, he’ll be fine” Cass said measuring out a dose and handing it to Casey. She leaned over a second later and wrapped her arms around Lyndy lifting her onto her lap as she sat.

“Georgie took me riding.”

“I’m so glad sweetheart, how’s Spackle ?”

“Perfect.”

“There’s my favorite girl” Caleb said walking in.

Lyndy broke free and ran over to get scooped up by Caleb who peppered her with kisses making her giggle.

“I saw the house today Poppa.”

“Did you see your room ?”

Lyndy nodded and smiled “did you buy horses ?”

“We did buy a few promising quarters.”

“Oh boy, I love new horses.”

“I know but you remember the rules ?”

“No going near the new horses until you say so.”

“Good girl.”

“What news of the move Caleb ?”

“Picking up the truck Friday at 5:00 Tim, we’ll move Saturday, all hands on deck and move in. We’ll move and install the appliances Wednesday.”

“Outstanding, I can’t believe that’s finally ending.” Lisa said.

“Me too, I want to live at Heartland in my new room.” Lyndy said smiling.

“We’ve all been waiting for that sweetheart” Jack said coming in.

He leaned over and kissed TJ. Cassandra stood to hug him which always took him back and made him smile. She amazed him, her love for Lyndy was without bounds and she poured love on her children. Amy and Ty had chosen these two well. Caleb and Lyndy were also a loving couple and Lyndy though Caleb walked on water.

Wednesday morning Caleb rode up to the barn where he saw Jack, Tim and the transport waiting.

“Sorry, I had to drop Lyndy and TJ’s still suffering with that tooth.”

“It’s fine Caleb, I was just going to go up and pull the French doors.”

“Stay Tim, I’ll do it, you two should stay.”

“I’m fine Caleb.”

“I can’t see that Tim, sorry, I’ve got it, you help down here.”

“Let it go Tim, you don’t have anything to prove.” Jacks said softly.

“Go ahead Caleb, thanks.”

Caleb nodded and headed upstairs. He took a deep breath before looking over, it had all been cleaned but he couldn’t see it that way.

Jack’s mind floated back to that day as he waited. They’d never really know what happened. They had an idea but no proof and no solid evidence of anything. After the loft had been ransacked apparently Ty became involved in something he never should have handled on his own.

Ty was found by Jim and his deputy, he was shot twice in the stomach and lay alongside his truck on an isolated road just past a cutoff bridge Lou had directed him to. He didn’t last long enough for the ambulance to arrive and was pronounced DOA after 5 minutes. His last word, the only one he uttered was “Amy.” Jim had no idea when Ty had been shot but it took him about thirty minutes to reach the spot from when the call came in.

Jack answered the house phone and listened to Jim before heading into the bedroom and grabbing his rifle.

He ran out onto the porch and saw Ty’s truck that Amy had taken to the supermarket parked by the barn and ran  towards it. Lisa ran out of the house then followed by Lou who held Lyndy.

“Stay with Lyndy Lou” Lisa called back following behind Jack. She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard Jack’s cry of anguish and turned as Jim’s Sheriff car sped down the road with sirens and lights flashing and pulling up to the barn. He asked Lisa to strand back and turned gun raised to the staircase up to the loft where he saw Jack sitting, both hands bloody.

Jim rushed past him and found what Jack had found. Amy lay next to the dining room table, her head in a pool of blood and lifeless. It looked as if she had been struck on the right side of her face and knocked down with her head smacking against the oak table on the way to the ground.

20 minutes later both scenes, by the bridge and the entire ranch was closed as a crime scene. Jim immediately called the RCMP as his department did not have the resources to handle a double murder. It took weeks to come close to any kind of spotty story line. They knew about the pouch from Mongolia and the flash drive. Both Ty and Amy’s computers were gone as was their phones and the back up hard drive they had. Although the perpetrator had attempted to erase their cloud accounts the RCMP was able to get Ty’s phone records and a copy of the file of names and numbers that they discovered.

The phone that the perpetrator apparently used was a throw away purchased for cash. They traced what names they could from the list and passed what they couldn’t to several international agencies. As near as they could discover they knew who probably was responsible. The same poacher or gang of poachers Ty had dealt with in Mongolia. Unfortunately the Mongolian authorities proved useless. The suspect Daniel Schurer a German national who had been living in Mongolia for years was untouchable. He claimed he had never left Mongolia and there was no record of him doing it. Further, he had several witnesses who could swear to his being in the Gobi at the exact time the attacks were taking place in Canada. Everyone on the list claimed ignorance and had no idea why they were part of it. Although several names showed up as names to watch or some that were known to several international animal protection services as traders they could piece nothing solid together and there was no physical evidence. They had found two abandoned trucks just out of town a couple days after, they had been stolen in Vancouver and the plates from Calgary Int’l airport. Both vehicles were freshly washed and cleaned, there were no useable fingerprints.

Caleb and Cassandra had immediately stepped forward to care for Lyndy in the sad days that followed. The family was lost and bereft of spirit. Over time as all things do they moved on. Emptied the loft and did what they could to stand with Caleb and Cass. Scott stepped up and made Cass a partner, accruing to her the time Ty spent and that she spent filling in for him. It was the least he could do. It took over a year for the insurance companies to pay out the life insurance policies as they needed written guarantees from police authorities that Ty or Amy weren’t privy to the crime. Ty and Amy’s assets were written over in Lyndy’s name and the insurance policy money directed to Cass and Caleb. They set up a college fund and when Jack informed them that he planned on Lyndy having the land originally promised to Amy and Ty, the O’dells decided that rather than buy a ranch over time they would build on the land and join Heartland.

Cass announced she was pregnant at Lyndy’s third birthday party and when born they named their son Tyler Jackson, TJ in memory of their friend. Amy had always wanted to name a son Jackson.

Caleb and Jack started a stock company and began trading in horses to make up for the work Amy would do. Georgie did what she could to help but started at UC soon after.

They sat to a large family dinner in the new home on Sunday evening. Casey and Lisa had helped Cass prepare. As they all sat Caleb looked out over the family and begged for quiet. He then asked for a moment of silent reflection for friends and loved ones before grabbing the platter of chicken and passing it around.

[your-dietician]

Giving Birth During the Pandemic, Calif. Wildfire Evacuation

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/giving-birth-during-the-pandemic-calif-wildfire-evacuation/

Giving Birth During the Pandemic, Calif. Wildfire Evacuation

Illustration: by Lucy Jones

Smoke plumes over the parched hillside as we load up our two cars for our first wildfire evacuation: passports and a few bags, one neurotic pit bull and six very disgruntled barn cats. At the last minute, we toss in some baby essentials (car seat, co-sleeper) — but surely, surely we’ll be back home before we need them. Nearby, two wild turkeys peck at the new fire break, unperturbed by the human frenzy, the gathering of domestic animals, the churning of fields.

It’s August 2020. And I am 36 weeks pregnant.

A week earlier, we’d been counting our blessings — the sort of feel-good California nonsense that ran contrary to every fiber of my jaded New Yorker soul. But on that deceptively bright afternoon, I’d indulged. First on the list was our home: my husband’s family ranch in the Santa Cruz mountains where we’d moved from Brooklyn three years before.

Like so many “classic” journeys West, ours had begun in a quixotic vein. On paper, it was a job offer for my then-boyfriend, now-husband, but the impulse ran deeper than that. We were both fed up with New York for the reasons 30-something artists often are: a growing disillusionment with our respective industries; the churn of yuppification driving our friends from the neighborhoods they themselves had gentrified not long ago; the pervasive sense that there’s always someone younger than you dying to do the same thing for less. And so, we wanted to embark on a new adventure together, something utterly different — and what could be more different than trading cramped city living for bucolic rolling hills? The ranch itself held an almost mythic status for my husband. It was the childhood kingdom where he once visited his uncle and grandmother and played out his Tolkien fantasies; the steady rock of home after his parents got divorced.

But, it turns out, we’d come to California in the end times. The apocalypse grew starker the farther west we drove. When we passed through Montana, the big sky clogged with smoke as fields burned alongside the highway. As we wound down the Oregon coast, the heat sizzled. We reached the ranch on the hottest day in San Francisco history. We drove down to the beach to escape the heat—only to find a small brush fire blocking our path. The Bay Area of my husband’s childhood was in its death throes. Destroyed by tech bros and venture capitalists and, most irrevocably, by climate change. Since our arrival, the Golden State has seen its population decline for the first time on record.

Living out in all that damn nature — a 25-minute drive from just about anything — felt claustrophobic. I missed home. I yearned to hop on the subway. Trade gossip with the self-proclaimed mayor of my block. Stumble home and stop, shame-faced, at the corner bodega for a bag of expired Goldfish crackers. Engage with that pulsing, beating, bleating hum of humanity that is New York City.

But there’s nothing like a global pandemic to make you see the value of wide-open spaces. To find the beauty in sunburnt grasses. To see the hills dotted with live oaks not as yellow but as gold. To watch the fog unfurl like dragon smoke and think — this, perhaps this can be enough.

The second blessing we’d been fool enough to name was my “easy” pregnancy. I’d been 15 weeks pregnant when COVID-19 shut down the state. My in-person appointments migrated to video. I purchased a scale and a blood-pressure cuff; I dutifully reported the results every month. By and large, I felt pretty good. Healthy. But this fiction, too, was about to go up in flames. The temperatures soared, the barn cats’ fur crackled, my feet ballooned.

The morning of our evacuation, I have my first in-person OB/GYN appointment in months. By this point, I’m accustomed to the realities of a pandemic pregnancy. The strange disconnect when I talk to anyone who gave birth before COVID-19, who never worried if their partner would be allowed into the delivery room, or Googled “will the hospital separate me from my newborn if I test positive for COVID?” In the empty waiting room, the “don’t sit here” printouts have vanished along with the chairs that accompanied them. The pandemic has dragged on for five months, and the furniture has adjusted itself accordingly.

The doctor gives me bad news — the baby is in breech. The hard, round protrusion jutting beneath my rib cage is, indeed, the baby’s head, not his rump as I’ve been trying to convince myself for weeks. We schedule a version— a procedure where a doctor tries to turn the baby right-side down — for the following Friday.

Who was I to think that my body wouldn’t betray me?

There’s something else, too. My blood pressure clocks in at 151 over 97. The chatty nurse grows quiet. She looks at me, then back at the reading. She asks if I was rushing to get here. If I suffer from white-coat syndrome. With the cocky self-assurance of a person young enough and lucky enough to believe that their body won’t betray them, I tell the nurse I’m stressed. We’re under evacuation warning. By the time she straps the cuff back on after the appointment, my blood pressure has returned to normal.

Preeclampsia, the dangerous and maddeningly enigmatic condition that my high blood pressure augurs, has plagued (wo)mankind since the dawn of history. Back in the fifth century B.C.E., Hippocrates blamed it, along with so many other lady ailments, on the wandering womb. In the intervening two and a half millennia, doctors haven’t figured out the cause. The prevailing theory is that the problem starts in the placenta, the organ that nurtures the fetus in the womb: In women with preeclampsia, the blood vessels that form to deliver oxygen to the placenta are too narrow. In its efforts to feed the growing baby, the body kicks into overdrive. Your blood pressure skyrockets; your kidneys falter; your liver might fail. In the worst cases, the “pre” vanishes and you “progress” to eclampsia — seizures which can be deadly to both mom and baby.

Preeclampsia is characterized by a list of associations that often border on patient-shaming: risk factors include poor diet, obesity, diabetes, and chronic hypertension. For complex reasons that likely involve structural racism, unconscious bias, and biological weathering, Black women in America develop and die from preeclampsia at significantly higher rates than white women do.

Returning, then, to my certainty that I am perfectly well, high blood pressure or no, thankyouverymuch. We could call it denial. We could also call it a particular cocktail of white, able-bodied, and socioeconomic privilege. After all, none of those risk factors applied to me.

Days later, as another nurse lines my hospital bed with bumper pads to protect me in case of seizure, I’ll wonder at my arrogance. Just two years earlier, my older sister dropped dead at 35. Who was I to think that my body wouldn’t betray me?

Almost exactly nine months after we first arrived in California, my sister Julia died, both suddenly and predictably. She was 35 and, by most outward metrics, in good health. But, as hard as she fought, she’d been gripped by both depression and alcoholism for over a decade.

In the months after Julia dies, wildfires flame up and down the state. Eight-five people perish as Paradise is razed to the ground. I try to work on my new novel, a cli-fi dystopia that offers little escape. I spend a lot of time sitting in a large wooden crate, socializing a litter of barn kittens. Sometimes, I meet Julia’s college roommate, Casey, in San Francisco. We go to coffee shops that are both like and unlike the ones I missed in Brooklyn. Places where using the bathroom requires an app and a QR code. The world is literally on fire, and this is what Silicon Valley innovation has to offer: the monetization of what should be public goods. Over burritos and tears, Casey tells me stories about her toddler son. Funny words that he’d string together, and how when she says they can’t go outside, he knows to respond: “Too smoky?”

The decision to have children has always struck me as an essentially selfish one: You choose, out of a desire for fulfillment or self-betterment or curiosity or boredom or baby-mania or peer pressure, to bring a new human into this world. And it has never seemed more selfish than today. From a global perspective, having a child in a developed nation is among the most environmentally unsound decisions you can make — a baby born in the United States adds another 58.6 tons of carbon to the atmosphere per year. (That wipes out the net positives of my 25 years of vegetarianism in roughly three months). On the individual level, as fires rage and hurricanes form, as water grows scarce and fields lie fallow, it’s hard not to wonder: What kind of future can we offer a child?

And yet. On some level we still believe that a baby, our baby, will bring the world, our world, so much more than his carbon footprint. On another, we believe, like so many before us, that a baby can be the only balm after a loss. That it will transform me from a bereaved sister to something new and alien: a mother.

The day we evacuate, in that now-annual tradition among Western states, Gavin Newsom declares a state of emergency. The fire that we’re fleeing is the smaller of two mammoth blazes threatening the state. A CalFire spokeswoman on TV advises that all citizens should be “ready to go” in case of wildfires. “Residents have to have their bags packed up with your nose facing out your driveway so you can leave quickly.”

We joke about how absurd it is that every single Californian should be living in a perpetual state of emergency preparedness. It isn’t funny.

The truth is that we’re the lucky ones. We won’t be sleeping in our cars outside Half Moon Bay High School, hoping that the Red Cross can find us a hotel room. We have a safe place to go that will accept us and our veritable menagerie in the middle of a pandemic. My in-laws live an hour’s drive away. And for once we’re grateful they’re on the far side of Santa Cruz.

On the individual level, as fires rage and hurricanes form, as water grows scarce and fields lie fallow, it’s hard not to wonder: What kind of future can we offer a child?

So we settle into our cushy evacuation digs. I check Twitter for updates on the fire lines. I lie upside down on a propped-up ironing board to encourage the baby to flip. I dutifully record my blood pressure twice a day. When I go into a local lab on Monday, I pass a woman around my age. Her hair mussed; her clothes rumpled. I overhear her tell the security guard that she is evacuated from Boulder Creek. Her house has already burned down.

The call comes late that afternoon. We’ve gone for a walk on the beach to distract ourselves. A brisk ocean breeze keeps the smoke at bay.

The OB tells me that I need to go to the hospital in two days and that I should be prepared to deliver. Depending on whether they can flip the baby, they will either induce labor or perform a C-section.

I press my hand against my stomach, cupping what I now know is my son’s head. I dig my heels into the sand. I know with every fiber of my being that this child is not ready to be born. He has literally put his foot down. Wildfire evacuations? Smoke-clogged skies over the Bay? A global pandemic? Nah, thanks, Ma. I’ll stay inside.

Something primal stirs. A desperate need to protect this child — from the world, from the climate, from the overreach of litigation-fearing American doctors. This baby, I am convinced, does not want to come out. He needs a few more weeks inside. My lab work hasn’t even come back yet. Two high blood pressure readings? From a person evacuated from wildfires during a pandemic? And I feel fine.

So, for the first time in my life, I argue with a doctor, first patiently, then furiously. I tell her that I cannot possibly give birth in two days. That we’re evacuated. That we might not have a home to return to. That, as freelancers, we both lost a lot of work during the pandemic. That my husband, whose industry has been completely upended, has an enormous gig with a new client. That I can’t imagine waiting until Friday can make any difference. The doctor takes out the cudgel: “You need to stop worrying about money and start worrying about your baby.”

It is the first time anyone has pulled the “bad mother” card on me, though I’m sure it won’t be the last. I sputter. I am livid. I tell her we’ll be there.

Things at the hospital go well until they don’t. The baby flips; the cheerful dry-erase board is decorated with a beaming sun, the names of the on-duty nurse and physician, and the words “Preeclampsia: Mild.” The next morning, my blood pressure soars, and “mild” is replaced with “severe.” The blood-pressure cuff is now accompanied by a catheter and an IV that pumps me up with magnesium to reduce the risk of seizure. The bumper pads are up now, too.

The hospital, the beeping machines monitoring my vital signs, the proliferating IVs, it all reminds me too much of Julia. The three days I sat at her hospital bed — holding her hand, reading Redwall to her, so sure that she could hear me, that the stories we shared in childhood might somehow draw her back. So sure that she would pull out of her coma, that one day we would make macabre jokes about her hospital stay. That she wouldn’t die. That our story couldn’t end that way.

But here, in this hospital, the wool has lifted from my eyes. I now know how these stories end. And I am sure that one of us isn’t going to survive. It takes the last bit of my resolve not to tell my husband, in a fit of melodrama, to save the baby if the doctors have to choose. (In later, clearer moments, I realize that medicine doesn’t work that way. But in the throes of magnesium-laced labor, the brain latches to the cinematic.)

So much of what could go wrong does: The baby crowns but every time I push his heart rate drops. We try three more times with a suction cup fused to his head, the pediatrician’s eyes glued to the heart monitor, periodically shouting for me to stop pushing so a nurse can press the baby back inside and massage his heart rate up again. At some point, a switch is flipped, alarms blare: an emergency C-section. I’m rushed down the corridors amid flashing lights to the operating table. My husband abandoned in a delivery room awash in blood. Someone shouts back, “We’ll come back for you if we can.”

My son is wrenched from my seizing uterus — weak from the magnesium and letting out only the smallest cry. He is rushed to the NICU for oxygen and observation. But he lives. We live. And, in the end, we get to go home.

The night that Jude is born, our evacuation order is lifted. The fires that burn parts of Bonny Doon and Boulder Creek never reach the ranch. We are so very lucky. Even though I doubt that luck can last.

Although that future still terrifies me and part of me wants to disengage, to say “Let it burn” and “Fuck you” to all that, I can’t. I don’t have that luxury.

After the dust has settled, my father — my somehow still optimistic, boomer father — keeps talking about how crazy it will be for Jude to learn about the day he was born, in a pandemic while evacuated for wildfires. And all I can think is how much I wish Jude might grow up in a world where the summer of 2020 sounds aberrational. I suspect he won’t. As I write this, fires descend on Lake Tahoe, defying all efforts of containment, and Hurricane Ida has devastated the Gulf Coast. Headlines blare about “extreme” weather, and I wonder when the newspapers will lose the word “extreme.”

I know that the world in which Jude grows up will be plagued by more and more environmental disasters. That cataclysmic changes to the climate will exacerbate the other inequities we face as a nation and a planet. That we are living in a real way on borrowed time, under the shadow of carbon that’s already been released as more fossil fuel continues to burn and burn and burn.

Although that future still terrifies me and part of me wants to disengage, to say “Let it burn” and “Fuck you” to all that, I can’t. I don’t have that luxury. I have no choice but to believe that the future — troubled as it will be, stripped as it will be of my biting, brilliant sister — is still worth living in and fighting for. To believe not just in destruction, not just in accruing loss after loss after loss, but in counting blessings. Finding those small moments of joy. The smile on Jude’s face as he bashes his mouth into my cheek. “Boop,” I say as I tap his nose. The same sound Julia used to make when I tapped hers.

This isn’t the ending that I’m looking for. And it isn’t just an ending either. It’s a beginning, too. An often frightening one. And, for now, that has to be good enough.

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And have no clue where I am other than on a mountain.

Here goes nothing. Back of the pack, as usual.

So after K picked Paige up on Friday, the game plan was to leave out Saturday morning and go trail riding. Paige isn’t in shape by any means, so I figured we’d go on a nice relaxing ride for a couple hours, then hang out and talk horses for a similar amount of time, then head home. hahahahahahah.

We rode for a long time. Well, a long time for me. While my horse is apparently a very seasoned trail horse, she did not become that way with me. I can count maybe three times I’ve ridden on steep and/or rocky trails. The New River trail (my favorite because I’m a weenie) is level, flat, literally has footing, and lacks all scary edges where you may or may not plummet to your death, so my rides there don’t count as real trail rides as much.

This part was nice and easy.

Interestingly enough, I mostly didn’t feel like I was going to die on Saturday. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to walk on Monday (I’m never sore the day after), but alas, Monday has passed without me being sore. What is this sorcery? In case my complete lack of ride recaps this year hasn’t made it readily apparent, I have logged maybe one hour combined in the saddle so far this year and uh, yeah, the same goes for my saintly Paige, who toted me around like a champ.

So, in case you missed the point of the last two paragraphs, we as a team, are neither experienced with trail riding or in shape for it. Further yet, I have NO sense of direction. Truly, never let me guide you in a wooded area. I’m a landmarks type of girl, not a “turn left or turn right” type. Unless the turn is by a landmark-if the turn is in a cluster of trees that look like every other cluster of trees, I may send us the wrong direction.

Luckily I was with a group of seasoned trail riders who knew exactly where they were going, which felt kind of like everywhere by the time we were done. The footing was pretty rocky, and Paige just had front shoes on, so we mainly stayed in the back and took things very slowly.

A on Casey. Yes, her hand is wrapped. She may have had surgery earlier this month…also note the rocky footing.

Actually I was rethinking not having anything embroidered on my custom horn bag that I bought last year…”spectacularly slowly” seems to be Paige’s motto on trail rides (regardless of footing) and would be very fitting on the side of them. Speaking of my custom horn bag, I was pretty happy with it. I hadn’t really used it up to this point, so it was nice to try it out. I picked the colors (obviously…) and that I wanted a cup holder on the left and cell phone holder on the right. I’ll be honest, I didn’t use the cell phone holder at all because I have this fear that I would and somehow I’d get separated from my horse and be unable to call for help, as if we had any service out there anyway. So I kept my phone in my pocket unless I was snapping pictures. The cup holder was amazing because it meant that I could ride with my right hand, use my left to pull the thermos out, hit the button to open the lid, drink, close the lid, and put it back in the holder one handed. So I was pretty well hydrated the entire time because it was so easy to sip and ride. If you want a set of custom color trail bags, I 100% recommend the Bag Hag.

Teal and brown for lifeeee. Bonus turquoise water bottle in cup holder.

While I was well hydrated, Paige wasn’t big on drinking. We crossed a few creeks that she wasn’t interested in-unless pawing counts- and a water trough that was spring fed, and she still wasn’t interested. At the end of the ride, we walked across to the creek and she sipped a little once I was off of her, but then wasn’t interested again.

There was one long span of trail with the aforementioned rocky footing that was on a uphill grade that gave us some issues. She stumbled a lot and acted like she didn’t want to go forward to the point that I actually had to kick her forward, which made me feel bad. Once we got to the top of the hill, there was a clearing that has been named Hugo’s Meadow since it was cleared by hurricane Hugo in 1989.

Hugo’s meadow

Paige had been grabbing leaves off of trees on the way up, but really wanted to graze when we got here. I extended my arm and just let her graze the entire time we rested there, which ended up being a fair amount of time since another group of riders came up behind us and struck up a conversation. This was immediately prior to the spring fed trough, so I thought if she grazed some, she may be more inclined to drink. While that wasn’t the case, the grazing put a lot of pep in her step for the rest of the ride, so I was glad I let her refuel on some calories.

After we left the meadow, K mentioned that the route we were taking back down was shorter, but more steep, and that there was a section that I’d probably want to dismount and lead Paige down and that she was going to do the same since her horse wasn’t in tip top shape either. It wasn’t until we got closer that I was given more information on this section, which is apparently so steep that it has been dubbed “the slide.” When wet, it is not at all uncommon for the horse to lose their footing with their back feet and slide down it. Luckily the area was pretty dry, so the horses weren’t as likely to slide. I was going last since that was generally our position and it made me feel better to not have to worry about someone else’s horse rushing us down. When we got down for our turn and saw the rut, it was evident that Paige would have to go in the rut and I was to walk on the ledge, which was a great plan in theory until Paige decided that she liked my idea of walking on the ledge better. There was a pretty good drop off on the side of the ledge and no way that we were both walking on it at the same time and it was questionable that the ledge would bear Paige’s weight regardless, so K climbed back up the slide and told me to scurry down solo and that she’d get Paige in the rut.

I probably would’ve been able to get Paige in the rut myself, but between my general lack of coordination and the fact that my legs were utter noodles from 4ish hours of riding, I willingly handed Paige over and slowly scooched myself down the slide, nearly falling a couple of times myself. Below is K and Paige on the ledge (left) and Paige in the rut (right).

That was the scariest part of the ride. I hand walked for a little while further, then got back on. This section of trail was not my favorite and I was glad I had energetic post grazing Paige and not the tired version I pony kicked up the mountain prior. We rode in the woods a little while longer then opened a gate and came out in a field full of cattle.

Seemingly endless field.

Paige was VERY interested in the cows, and only halfheartedly grazed when we took a break here. It was nice to be out in an open area without rocks for a while, but the heat was pretty crazy compared to the cool air in the trees. We were soon back to the trees, but not until after following the cows a little ways.

Note cows ahead of the bay horse.

The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful (just the way I like it…) outside of my butt being pretty sore from so much riding. I’m apparently in better shape than I give myself credit for due to this workout program I’m in. Despite not riding this year, I wasn’t sore until we’d been riding for…almost five hours? My exercise class (and weigh in) was last night, and while I dropped another two pounds, I was more surprised that I wasn’t sore from riding during the workout. Paige is likely sore, but she’s living at K’s and eating lots of grass and apples and is very forgiving, so she’ll hopefully be glad to see me when I make it out there this week.

Looking pretty in “wine.”

Two Horse Tack sent me a halter bridle to review and it arrived just in time for the occasion. I really like it, and it worked well for leading Paige down the slide. I am going to add snaps to the reins after fiddling with those conway buckles though. Full review to come once I’ve used it a little more.

Outside of the slide, I found the ride really enjoyable in spite of the length/difficulty. I think once Paige is in better shape we’ll hit the trails again, but for now we need to work on getting in some practice for this ranch riding clinic we signed up for.

Her homework: eat all the things.

Here is the map of where we rode. I had A draw in green where we went because outside of a couple of places that I recognized, I wasn’t sure where we started or ended. I guess our trailer was parked somewhere between the two ends of the green line, because we did do a complete loop despite how this makes it look.

This map is about as good as it gets…because this was what I was going to show you to show where we rode.

  Don’t judge me. hahahaha

In Which I Follow People And have no clue where I am other than on a mountain. So after K picked Paige up on Friday, the game plan was to leave out Saturday morning and go trail riding.