#my chopsticks are really tiny that’s why i had to hold ‘em so low

[chazz-is-a-zelda-fan]

i was gifted one of those popin cooking sets the other day so i made it and… well…

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 5

Harry prides himself on his attention to detail. 24 hours after he'd met y/n he had noticed that she can't sleep with socks on. He knew it wasn't because she was hot, minutes before she had whined about it being cold, stealing clothes from Harry to sleep in and wearing them for a good fifteen minutes before tugging off the socks and settling in for sleep. Her toes were like popsicles when they brushed against Harry's calves but she never put the socks on.

Nearly five years later, he knows everything there is to know about her. She can't sleep with windows open, she doesn't like melted cheese, she can't use chopsticks but insists on using them anyway, even if it means stabbing at her California rolls. He's always been proud of how well he knows her.

For the first time in his life, he wishes he hadn't memorized her period calendar because the disappointed droop of her eyebrows and the pout on her lips is heartbreaking.

"You," She says pointedly. "are the world's best husband."

Harry gapes at her, confused by her reaction. He'd expected maybe some panic as she realizes that it should in fact be her time of the month or even a shrug with a, "Just late. It's ok." Instead she sits up, elbows digging into her thighs while she rubs at her eyes in frustration.

"S'that bad?" Harry questions, sitting up as well. He rubs his hand over the soft skin of her back, hoping it'll relax her. "How dare I?"

She whines, low in her throat like she's genuinely upset about this and it makes him panic a bit. What did he do? What could've possibly been said that he'd hurt her feelings?

"I wanted to surprise you." She mumbles dejectedly, lifting her head to look at him. He immediately reaches for her face, looking over her watery eyes and flushed cheeks. His heart hammers, blood rushing to his ears as it hits him and he's not so proud of his attention to detail anymore because how could he have not noticed? She only threw up in the middle of the night or after smelling tuna. She had been sleeping an awful lot. She'd been weepy about things that were honestly no big deal. He fights the smile that's tugging at his lips because he'd hate to get excited about this and it not be true.

"Baby," Harry croaks, a lump lodging itself in his throat. His heart pounds rapidly in his neck and his stomach is flipping.

"I had a really cute plan." She whimpers and it makes his chest ache in guilt. Damn him and his thoughtfulness.

"Are you-" His voice cracks. He takes a second to clear his throat and try and swallow down the lump of excitement but it keeps bouncing up.

"Nick was gonna help me and everything." She blubbers, tears streaming down her cheeks and Harry's quick to bring her to his chest, laying her legs over his thighs.

"Y/n please," Harry begs, desperate for her to confirm the thought that's swirling around in his head, so overwhelming he's a little dizzy.

"We're having another baby." She cries into his shoulder, hooking her arms around his shoulders. It's like the winds been knocked out of him, a shaky laugh leaving his tingling lips.

"Holy fuck!" Harry gasps, squeezing her tighter. He feels so over the moon that he can only think to hold her in hopes that his excitement goes into her. He thinks he could probably squeeze her to death.

"Are you happy?" She mururms quietly, nudging her nose deeper into his shoulder.

"M'so happy baby." He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut because they've started to burn with tears. "You're giving me another baby! Another little bug to love for the rest of my life. How could I not be happy?"

She laughs wetly, squeezing him back. "Just checking."

They stay sat together for a bit, Harry rocking her back and forth in his arms and basking in the news. He chuckles to himself, unable to believe that he managed to get y/n pregnant a second time without even trying.

"Do you think it was that time in the shower tha' did it?"

"Why do you need to know that?"

"For future reference." Harry scoffs, offended that she'd even ask. "What it I'm trying to get you pregnant again and I need to know the best positions and stamina, huh? Or how h-"

"Please stop!" Y/n groans but she's giggling. Harry silences, still smiling and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

~

Y/n meets his gaze in the rearview mirror, lips threatening to turn up into a smirk at how nervous and fidgety he is.

"It's just a fifteen minute ride." She tells him, reaching into the front seat to squeeze his shoulder. Harry nods, releasing a puff of air and reaching for the gear shift. The car jolts into motion, Harry pulling out of the pick up zone and to the intersection. Y/n hears the blinker click on as she checks on their newborn, making sure he hasn't spit out his pacifier. He's sound asleep, his button nose furrowing and chubby fists clenching as he dreams.

"S'he ok?"

Y/n looks back at Harry, catching a glimpse of his eyes in the mirror before they return to the road in front of them.

"Yup. Still sleeping like a log, just like his daddy."

Her words raise a smile on Harry's lips, his shoulders visibly relaxing. The radio is playing quietly in the background, all lyrics unintelligible and while it'd usually bother her, she doesn't ask Harry to turn it up.

"Traffic's not too bad," Harry murmurs, brow furrowed in focus. "think I'll take the back roads instead of the highway."

Knowing he's incredible nervous, y/n just nods. She relaxes back into the seat, curling her legs under her. She looks down at Arlo, grinning softly at how much she loves him. She rests her left arm on the edge of his car seat, stroking his fist with her pointer finger. Still sleeping, he clutches to it, tiny fingers barely wrapping around her knuckle. Her head drops to the back of the seat, watching her baby snooze until her eyes get heavy and drop closed.

Harry tightens his grip on the wheel, sparing another glance in the mirror at y/n. She hasn't said anything in a bit and he wants to make sure she's ok. He sees her eyes shut, lips parted as she naps and it makes him grin. He focuses back on the road, determined to get his family home safely so they can rest comfortably.

By the time Harry pulls up to the house, his hands ache from holding the steering wheel so tightly and it's taken him an extra ten minutes due to how slowly he drove, but he's so relieved that he managed to get Arlo home without waking or harming him.

Harry parks close to the door, sighing in relief and shutting the car off. He climbs out and opens the back door, softly gripping y/n's elbow.

"Darling,"he rouses her. "we're home. Let's get you two inside."

Harry's heart flutters as he watches her gently pry Arlo's fist off her finger, groggily unbuckling her seat belt. She unclips the car seat, grabbing it by the sides and hauling it into her lap. Harry takes it from her, holding the handle on top in one hand and her hand in the other, helping her down.

"I'll get the rest, yeah?" He passes the car seat over to her, swiftly kissing her forehead. Y/n nods, giving him a grateful smile and taking the keys from him. Harry closes the door, walking around to the back and opening the hatch. He slings their duffle bag of clothes over his right shoulder and the baby bag over his left, carrying the box of gifts from their loved ones in his hands.

Y/n and Arlo aren't downstairs when he gets inside so he leaves everything in the living room, heading upstairs to find them. The door to their bedroom is open and a quick look inside shows him that they're not in there.

He finds them in the nursery, y/n sat in the big, plushy rocking chair in the corner with Arlo attached to her breast. He knees are weak as he walks to them, y/n looking up at him with a sleepy smile. Harry squishes into the chair next to her, glad they got one big enough for both of them to sit in. He wraps his arm around her, cupping Arlo's head with the other and brushing the pad of his thumb over his little cheekbone. Arlo lets out a little noise of content, stirring a bit before focusing on his feeding again.

"Look at him." Y/n whispers, resting her head on his shoulder. Harry squeezes her hip, cheeks hurting from smiling.

"S'our little bug."

"We get to keep him forever."

"Won't be enough."

Y/n giggles softly. "No?"

"No, m'gonna want more time with him."

"Good luck with that Harry." Arlo pulls his head back, mouth opening in the tiniest of yawns against y/n's chest. Harry's so in love he thinks he could burst.

"I've got too much love for forever with one bub. Think ya might need to give me a few more."

Y/n lifts her head, shaking it softly at him. She presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Let's get through our first night with this one and then we'll talk."

~

Hiding behind his sunglasses, Harry waits for Anne to climb into the car before shutting the door. He reaches for the passenger door as y/n comes around the front, keys in hand. Before he can pull the handle, she's jumping forward and grabbing his wrist. Harry looks at her questioningly, eyebrow quirking out from under the tinted Ray-Bans he's wearing.

"I'm glad you invited them. I think they're a little sick of the house."

Harry chuckles lowly. "Better than being sick of that shit hotel."

"I'm just-I'm proud of you Harry." Y/n mururms, choosing to ignore his comment and instead cups his jaw between her chilled hands. "I know this is all really awful but you're doing so amazingly. I don't think I'd be able to be as kind as you're being."

Harry shrugs, flattered at her compliment. "Ya take better care of 'em then I do."

"I'm just taking care of them for you. I can force myself to be kind if it means you get the healing you deserve Harry."

His heart swoops with love, meeting y/n in the middle for a quick but sweet peck. He pulls open the car door for her, using his other hand to pull her hand off his jaw and kiss the back of it.

"Let's go before ya get sick again." Harry half- jokes, taking notice of the chilly October air. The last thing he wants is his wife sick again because he kept her out in the cold too long.

The five members of the Styles family sit in silence, listening to radio and Arlo babble little noises from his car seat at Anne and Gemma. There's a tension in the air, not as painful as the one from the first time they were in a car together, but it's extremely noticable and seems to be coming from Harry.

He's stuck in his head, mulling over the fact that he needs to speak to his mother soon. He can't draw it out any longer. He needs to know her intentions and whether he's ready to have her back in his life. He wants to know if she's going to run away because he doesn't want his family and himself getting too attached.

Harry's exiting off the highway when Gemma breaks the silence.

"I was thinking of being Wednesday Addams. What do you think?"

Harry chuckles, recalling all the times he's seen her dressed as Wednesday Addams for Halloween. "Think you've probably already got tha' costume. Dressed up as her for about three years straight, at least."

Anne giggles from the backseat as Harry looks up at the mirror to give Gemma a teasing smile. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. You were always better at choosing costumes than I was."

Harry smirks, knowing that's damn well true. When he was younger he usually always placed in the costume contest at school while Gemma wasn't even nominated. Kids got tired of the same ol' Wednesday Addams every year.

They pull up to Party City, Harry parking as close to the front entrance as he can get. Gemma, fed up with the teasing from her brother, rushes Anne out of the car so she can get out, stalking to the building without so much as a look back. Harry laughs, pulling open the door and unlocking Arlo's car seat. At the sight of his dad, Arlo's lips part into a smile and he excitedly kicks his sock covered feet up.

"What's got you so excited bug?" Harry coos, chuckling when Arlo giggles at him. Harry slips the handle under his arm, shutting the door as y/n and Anne come around the car, baby bag on y/n's shoulder.

"Shall we go, honey?" Harry asks, grinning and holding his hand out for y/n to grab. She rolls her eyes at his words but takes his hand anyway.

"What happened to darling?"

Harry shrugs. "I'll call ya darling after Halloween. Until then you're honey and this little one," he nods towards the car seat in his hand. "is bug."

They enter the store, Harry releasing his wife's hand to get a basket. He settles the car seat on the top portion, making sure it's stable before taking the baby bag from y/n and setting it in the basket.

"You've always called him bug." Y/n pouts, slinking under Harry's arm to stand between him and the basket. She tickles Arlo's little belly, getting the heartiest laugh out of him.

"I change it up a bit," Harry defends, pushing the basket towards the costume area in the back. He has to waddle so he doesn't step on or crush y/n but he doesn't mind. He likes having her pressed against his front. "but from now until Halloween, he's only bug."

Giggling at Harry's stubbornness, y/n doesn't argue. They find Gemma in the back, looking over superhero costumes. Anne walks over to here, pointing out a Scarlett Witch costume. Harry grins at Gemma's look of disgust.

"I'll start on this end, you start on that one?" Harry asks, leaning over y/n's shoulder to gaze at his son. Arlo's eyes flicker up to his, green twinkling at the sight of Harry and he swears he'll never get tired of how happy Arlo always is to see him.

"Alright bug, say bye to daddy."

Arlo's eyebrows scrunch at y/n's words, squeezing Harry's heart in the process. He lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers with a smile. "Bye bye bug."

Harry releases the basket, letting y/n push it away. Arlo's squeals something that resembles the word bye and it makes Harry's smile grow. He walks to the opposite end of aisle, starting to go through the pictures of costumes on the wall when he spots a werewolf mask. Grinning mischievously, Harry peaks down the aisle to find y/n busy with looking for their costumes. Before she loses her distraction, Harry grabs the mask and quietly disappears down another aisle.

He comes back around the one adjacent to where y/n is talking quietly to Arlo. Harry slips his sunglasses off and hooks them on his shirt. Y/n is too focused to notice Harry tip-toeing up to her, pulling the mask over his face. He comes up behind her, roughly grabbing her shoulders and leaning over her shoulder so she can see the bloody wolf face, growling as best as he can.

It seems to be a good growl because she jumps, immediately turning his grasp and shoving the heel of her palm into Harry's chest. It's enough to knock the wind out of him, Harry immediately pulling off the mask and trying to catch his breath while he laughs.

"Oh my God, you dumbass!" Y/n scolds, reaching forward to make sure he's ok. Harry rubs the spot on his chest, still chuckling when the most terrified little screech echos down the aisle. Y/n immediately whips around, lifting Arlo out of the car seat as he wails. The cracks of his cry are utterly heartbreaking and Harry throws the mask to the aisle next to them, reaching for Arlo.

"Oh no, bug." Harry whines, guilt sinking into his stomach. He didn't even think of how he'd probably scare Arlo as well. Y/n rocks him back and forth, soothingly rubbing his back.

"Way to go Harry." Gemma calls from down the aisle. Harry keeps his guilt riddled eyes on his sobbing child but flips Gemma off behind y/n's back.

"It's ok love," y/n murmurs, lips close to Arlo's ear. "It was just daddy." She angles Arlo so he can look at Harry. Harry frowns, taking in Arlo's red cheeks and tears. He takes him from y/n, holding him as tight as he can without hurting him.

"M'sorry bug." Harry whimpers, wiping Arlo's cheeks gently. Y/n had managed to quiet him a bit, leaving Arlo in whimpers and hiccups. "Daddy's so sorry, just wanted to scare mumma, not you."

Y/n scoffs in offense, lightly punching his arm. Harry continues to bounce Arlo in his arms, grinning up at his wife. "Hell of a hit ya gave me earlier." His chest throbs as if proving his words.

"Learned from the best."

Harry chuckles proudly. "Maybe I should put ya in the ring with me again. Liked seeing ya get all fiesty."

Y/n laughs as if his request is absurd. He pouts at her reaction because it definitely wouldn't be the first time he strapped gloves to her hands and taught her to defend herself.

"Wha's that face for?"

"Nothing." She smirks. "Stay here, I'm going to get a worker to help us so we can get out of here before you traumatize our son."

His pout grows, looking back down at a still hiccuping Arlo. Harry wipes over his cheeks again, pressing a small kiss to Arlo's forehead. "Mumma's the best huh?" He whispers, lips quirking up when Arlo's big eyes lock on his. "Yeah, she's even giving us another bug. Don't worry though, you'll always be daddy's number one bug."

Arlo smiles as if he completely understands what Harry's saying. Harry hopes he does.

~

"Ya don't think she'll cause a fight or anything, right?"

Y/n gnaws on her bottom lip, folding extra onsies to pack in Arlo's overnight bag. She shrugs and it makes Harry falter in panic.

"Ya think she will?"

"I don't know!" Y/n sighs, throwing a blue onsie down and pressing her palm against her forehead. "She was pretty upset when she found out they were staying here and I really don't think she'll be able to keep her mouth shut. She's so protective of you."

Her words make his heart flutter despite his nervous suspicion that Marie might start a fight with Anne and Gemma. Harry had planned on dropping Arlo off at Marie and Steve's earlier today but he'd gotten a call that they weren't home and would just pick Arlo up on their way home. He'd usually be glad that he didn't have to drive further out of the city but today he just wants a little peace before he sits down with Anne to talk. It seems Marie might ruin the peace for him.

His phone chimes in his hand and he lifts it to read the notification that their front gate has been opened by code. Knowing it's Marie and Steve, Harry tucks his phone in his pocket and lifts Arlo out of his crib. Careful to not wake him, Harry gets him buckled into the car seat and slips an extra pair of socks on his feet. A glance out the window tells him it might storm later so he throws a blanket over Arlo too.

"You've got bottles packed darling?" Harry asks, picking up the car seat. Y/n is standing in the doorway, diaper bag and overnight bag on her shoulders. She nods at him, patting the bag as proof.

"Let's go greet the beast then."

Y/n chuckles at his words. They're halfway down the stairs when the front door opens, both their eyes widening in panic because Anne and Gemma are in the living room.

"We're here for our little Arllie!"

Y/n and Harry hurry down the stairs but by the time they reach the living room, Anne and Gemma are standing near the coaches, heads hung while Marie and Steve just stare at them. Harry gulps nervously, waiting for a tumble weed to blow between them while they draw their weapons.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad." Y/n greets, smiling nervously. She glances between the two families, clearing her throat. "This is Harry's mom Anne and sister Gemma."

Both women look up at the sound of their names. Gemma waves shyly.

"These my parents Steve and Marie."

Marie pushes past y/n and Harry, storming towards Anne. Harry's chest siezes, his grip on the car seat tightening. Marie stops in front of Anne, placing her hands on her hips and keeping her stare emotionless. Anne looks up at her sheepishly.

"You are absolutely the most stupid woman I've ever met." Marie says scoldingly. Anne's eyes fall at her words but she offers no rebuttal. Harry can't help the rush of love that spreads through his veins. After a moment of silence, Marie let's out a breath.

"Now that that's been said, it's lovely to meet you both."

Harry's mouth falls open in shock and he doesn't have to look at y/n or Steve to know their expressions mirror his own.

"N-nice to meet you." Gemma stutters, looking over Marie's shoulder at Harry. Her eyes are wide and begging but Harry just shrugs. He's not going to stop Marie front doing what she pleases. She's taken care of him and loved him when he needed it most.

"I'd love to stay and chat but I know Harry's got to get going soon and I don't want Arlo out late in the cold. We'll have to catch up another time." With that, Marie turns on her heel and proudly struts to Harry.

"Hi dears!" She coos, placing a kiss on y/n's cheek and then Harry's. Harry snaps his mouth shut, smiling tightly and kissing her cheek as well.

"'lo mum." Harry murmurs, squeezing her with his free arm. She pats his cheek, beaming.

"Like I said, we should get going but we wish the best of luck tonight." Harry nods at her words, heading towards the door to put Arlo in the car for them. Steve nods at him in greeting, always being the quieter of the two.

"We'll be right back." Y/n says behind him, following him out of the house. Together, they move Arlo's car seat to his grandparents car, both of them pressing soft kisses to their baby's cheeks. They stay in the driveway, watching as the car drives away with Harry's arm over her shoulders to keep her warm.

"That could've been so much worse." Harry nods, thoroughly surprised that Marie had a civil conversation with Anne.

~

"So this is the behind the scenes look of a boxers life, huh?"

Harry snorts at Gemma's words, dropping his bag onto the dresser and tossing his keys onto the table. She makes it seem like he's some insanely famous boxer when he's really only known in the city. If you left the state and said his name to a local boxer, he'd be unknown. He doesn't tell her that though, he likes that she thinks he's a big shot.

"S'just ma changing room ya nutter." Harry teases, gracefully falling onto one of the tall chairs around the table. Y/n follows him, easily slipping between his thighs as he parts them for her. The chair is tall enough that she can lay her head on his chest, palms resting on his abdomen.

"It's a lot better than waiting outside for good seats, I'll tell you that." Anne chuckles at her daughter's words while y/n smirks. Thanks to Harry, she's never had to do that before. She's always been more than a fan.

"Gotta warm up soon pet." Harry mururms in her ear, patting her left hip. She whines low in her throat because she's exhausted from the baby growing in her tummy, and she's really content standing here with Harry around her.

He chuckles at her. "Know you're tired, stay here and rest while I get ready. "

"Really?"

"Of course, I'll wake ya in time to tape me up and walk me out, yeah?" He presses his lips to her temple, one of his hands sliding around to cup her stomach. "Can't go out without ma loves."

Y/n nods sleepily. Harry stands up, chuckling at how y/n stays pressed against him with her arms now tight around his waist. Harry waddles her to the couch, pressing another kiss to her forehead before sitting her down. She flops back like a rag doll, eyelids heavy and sluggish. He adjusts a throw pillow against the armrest, urging her to lay down with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Once she's settled, curled up and already falling asleep, Harry gives the TV remote to Gemma and takes his gloves. He exits the room, heading to meet Liam and warm up.

~

The soft sound of y/n gently snoring are barely heard over the TV but Anne and Gemma keep the volume low, not wanting to wake her. They're sat at the table, Anne's eyes flickering between the sleeping girl and the screen. She can't seem to stop looking at y/n, so incredibly grateful for her.

Anne loves seeing Harry with her, even if it does make her stomach burn with unbearable guilt. She usually hates to be proven wrong but she's so proud of Harry. Seeing him take care of his wife and baby, treating them with the utmost compassion and love. She can't believe she ever looked him in the eye and thought she saw a monster. She can't believe that the hands that stroke Arlo's cheeks and hold y/n's waist are also the hands that almost killed Jack.

"She's been sleeping a lot." Gemma whispers, obviously watching y/n too. Anne hums her agreement, not sure if she should speak what's been on her mind lately. She doesn't get to think about it for too long before Gemma is nudging her and saying, "You think she's pregnant again?"

Anne nods, eyes watering as she replays the image of Harry gently holding y/n's stomach earlier. The soft caress, the nausea, the exhaustion. They're all signs pointing to her being pregnant.

"Then we better make sure we get to stick around for this one."

Anne couldn't agree more.

~

Harry's struggling.

Like really struggling.

His arms feel like lead, every punch he throws at his opponent too slow and just leaving him open to receive a bunch of punches to the ribs. The blood on his eyebrow is dripping into his eye, comprising the sight of his left one. His head pounds in time with his heart, throbbing in his forehead and ribs. He can't get his body to move quick enough despite Liam's yells of instruction. He can hear y/n calling out to him, her voice echoing in his foggy brain. Harry knows he's got a concussion already and it's making him stumble around the ring.

"Come on Harry!"

He manages to swing another punch, gritting his teeth as his fist collides with his opponents jaw. Harry tried to recall the man's name but nothing comes to mind.

The man stumbles back, giving Harry another chance to deliver quick jabs to his abdomen. His burst of energy is short lived and before he knows it, the man is blocking his fists and sweeping a foot behind Harry's.

They crash down to the floor of the ring, Harry groaning at the pain in his spine and ribs. He tries to kick his legs, to swing his arms but he's 100% pinned. Grunting, he drops his head down, pushing his abdomen up roughly to try and throw the man back.

The ref is counting down next him and as he reaches eight, Harry stills. He can't get out of this, his body is on fire and he's so nauseous. He turns his head to the side, blinking sluggishly as the ref announces the other man the winner. His weight is lifted off of Harry but he can't stand, too exhausted. He manages to focus on y/n's worried eyes before his vision goes fuzzy around the edges, growing until he's seeing nothing but black.

[pjbehindthesun]

chapter 6: orchids, stars, and polar bear turds

Friday, June 29th, 1990

Okay, okay, suck it up, you coward, you can’t hide in this bathroom all day eavesdropping. You know he’s stalling and waiting for you to come back to your desk… I mean, no one in their right mind actually just comes by to talk to Greta. I’ve been ducking him all week, but it’s starting to become obvious. Ugh, you’re such a fucking chicken. You can do this. Go. Go. GO!

I open the restroom door and walk around the corner and see Jake engaged in polite conversation with my bridge troll of a supervisor. He’s been listening intently as she drones on about her commute, smiling and adding his own quips about the traffic on I-5, offering the occasional helpful suggestion for an alternate route or a book on tape she might try to help pass the time. I’m dying inside just having listened to her diatribe for a couple minutes, but if he’s feeling the same desperation, none of it shows on his face.

All the same, he grins and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees me, so maybe he is actually grateful to have an escape from Greta. “Lucy! I’ve been looking for you!”

I try for a smile, but I’m sure it’s more of a wince. We both know I’ve been dodging him ever since the Strawberry Incident. It was so sweet of him. So sweet, and so poorly timed. He’s everything I always thought I wanted in a guy – hey, Mom and Dad, here’s that charming, handsome doctor son-in-law you ordered! – except that he’s kind of… too perfect? Is that possible? Can someone be too perfect to be interesting?

“Hey, Jake.” Greta grunts at me and scuttles off, sensing that her attentive audience has evaporated.

“You’re a hard woman to find,” he beams. “I’ve been wondering if you saw my package.”

I bite the inside of my cheeks and internally curse Cora for being such a bad influence on me. He doesn’t seem to notice he’s said anything funny, so I get a grip, although once the giggles pass, my heart’s still in cornered panicked rabbit mode. “Yeah, uh, the strawberries? Yeah, thanks! We loved them.”

“We?” His smile falters for a nanosecond.

“Oh yeah, a couple of the nurses and I, even Greta. They were delicious.”

He chuckles. “You’re sweet to share them. I was just, uh, thinking of you. I do that a lot, actually…”

Here it comes. Can’t dodge it forever. God, I want to puke.

He goes on. “I was actually thinking we might go out sometime, maybe get some dinner?”

“Oh, uh, Jake, you’re… that’s so sweet of you, really…uhm, I would, but I’m sort of… I’m seeing someone…?” It feels so odd rolling off my tongue, but even after just one week of knowing Jeff, it’s hard to deny that something significant has changed. First, he tracked down my apartment, then I stopped by the Raison d’Etre to spend some time with him after one of his shifts, and tomorrow we have an actual, scheduled, non-stalker-y date. I haven’t had much room in my head for anything else.

I brace for the awkwardness, or maybe even the defensive mockery or insult that usually comes with turning down a guy in my experience. But Jake just blinks before hitching his good-natured smile back into place, and I’m flooded with relief tinged with guilt. Why does he have to be so fucking nice?

“That’s great! I didn’t know that! Of course, girl like you, you must be swatting us away.”

I open my mouth to explain why he’s so wrong, how atypical any of this suitor stuff is for me, but he continues, “well, uh, he’s a very lucky man. Though I’m sure he knows that. What’s his name?”

I bite my lips in to keep from smiling rudely, hanging on to his name as long as I can, wanting to keep it for mine.

***

Saturday, June 30th, 1990

“Epi-what nows?”

“Epiphytes,” she giggles, tugging me by the hand through the greenhouse. She’s been geeking out over all kinds of flowers and plants for the last two hours, but if possible she’s even more worked up about the ones in this part of the exhibit. We stop in front of this giant cylinder covered with tufts of spiky little plants. “See?”

“I see ‘em, yup…there, uh, there they are, alright,” I nod approvingly, not having the slightest clue why we’re staring at these things but not wanting that excited look on her face to go away.

“Air plants, Jeff, look. See how they don’t have any roots? They’re not planted in any soil?”

“Son of a bitch, you’re right,” I take a step closer and squint at the plants she’s pointing at and realize they’re just hanging onto this column through sheer force of will or something. The more I look at the wall, the more variety I see, like noticing more and more stars the longer you let your eyes focus on the night sky, and I’m starting to understand, if maybe dimly, why she’s staring so raptly at them with that smile dancing on her lips. She turns to me and blushes, her hair a little wilder than usual thanks to the humidity in here.

“I know, it’s weird, I’m really into plants,” she cringes, “you probably hate it, right? We can go if you –”

“No no, how the fuck does this even work?” At first, I was kind of hesitant about a date at the conservatory – I mean it’s free and all, so it’s got that going for it, but who wants to stare at flowers all day? But I’m starting to see the appeal of staring at Lucy when she’s staring at flowers, and now I just genuinely want to understand what the fuck I’m looking at.

“They just grow on all different kinds of surfaces, and they take their moisture and nutrients from the air instead of from extensive root systems in soils. Like, uhm, mosses and stuff? Spanish moss is a good one. But also orchids, and all these bromeliads in here.” I remember the window full of orchids in her place and begin to understand why she wanted to come here. I follow her gaze back up the display wall as she continues in a hushed, reverent voice. “I just think it’s beautiful, the way they fall all over a tree or another plant, not doing any damage like a strangling, needy vine would… just, just a soft blanket all over… just breathing together.”

She falls silent and we both stare at the plants, and I’m trying not to think too hard about how romantic fuckin’ epiphytes turned out to be when I feel her take hold of my hand and lean lightly against my arm.

***

“Our feast, m’lady,” Jeff turns around holding a giant brown paper bag, having just tipped the delivery guy and nudging the front door closed.

“And what’s the damage?” I grab my backpack and reach in for my wallet, but he takes the bag out of my hands and sets it down, sliding his arms around my waist.

“Nah, forget it, you’re a cheap date,” he mumbles, planting a light kiss on my lips.

“Sure know how to woo a girl,” I grin against his mouth.

“You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I’m really into plants,’” he tickles my ribs and I break away, dodging for safety in the kitchen and sticking my tongue out at him. “You save all the best stuff for the third date, huh?”

“Oh yeah, I’m the mistress of seduction alright. The castration and branding stories were just the bait to reel you in before we started the real foreplay. Chopsticks?”

“Drawer next to the sink. Gotta hand it to you, though, it’s not the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

“Well, this sounds like a promising game…” I hunt around in his kitchen cabinets until I’ve got a couple of plates.

“Shit,” he laughs. “You know I’m just kidding, Luce, right? I had a great time.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easy, bud. I mean it, what is the worst date you’ve ever had?”

He glances mischievously up at me while dishing out his low mein. “I dunno, I sort of want to hear about yours, you seem too eager for someone who doesn’t have a good horror story up her sleeve…”

“Nuh uh, I asked you first.”

He screws his face up thoughtfully as we sit on the couch with our dinner. “I don’t know, I haven’t had a lot of really awful ones, I guess… there was a blind date in college once that was pretty fuckin’ awkward.”

“Details, please,” I sit opposite him on his couch with my legs folded, awkwardly managing my rice with my chopsticks.

“Okay, so I got home to Big Sandy after a semester away and one of my mom’s friends wanted to try to set me up with her daughter, so my mom went along with it. I don’t think this girl’s mom had any idea who I was or what I looked like or anything, she just knew me as, like, the mayor’s kid…”

“Your dad’s the mayor?”

“And the barber,” he nods with a mouthful of food, “I don’t think I can impress upon you just how tiny this shit town of mine is… anyway, so I had to be pretty well behaved, and pretty clean cut, right?”

“Gonna need some evidence of this ‘clean-cut’ concept when story time’s over,” I tug on a piece of his hair.

“I mean, relatively speaking. Well, I come back from Missoula, having made a bunch of friends who were into punk rock, and I looked the part, you know… or more than I did when I moved away. And this girl’s, like, Polly Purebred, never left home, just completely sheltered and totally freaked out. I probably looked like Sid Vicious to her or something,” he chuckles. “So it wasn’t the end of the world, but she was pretty terrified the whole time, so I found excuses to cut it short and take her home.”

“Very decent of you for a depraved monster.”

“I thought so. And very much my last blind date, too. Your turn!”

“Ah, fuck,” I groan… “I don’t even know which one to go with. Yours was so tame, mine are all going to sound insane.”

His eyes light up as he sets his empty bowl down and rubs his hands together. “Go on…”

“Okayyy… well, it doesn’t really count as a date, but my two most serious boyfriends both came out to me while breaking up with me…”

“Jesus!”

“No, that was the other guy.”

“You dated Jesus?”

“Not quite, but I did go on a date with someone who tried to convert me. Brought all his “so you’re going to hell” pamphlets and shit.”

“Okay, no, that’s got to be your worst one.”

“Don’t you want to hear about the puker?”

He blinks like a deer in headlights. “The…”

“The guy who took me out to dinner and turned increasingly green throughout the meal, and I kept asking if he was okay, until the waiter sets this big piece of salmon down in front of him and he pukes all over it.”

“That’s fucking disgusting!”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you the rest…” I wince even thinking about the memory of it, but he’s watching with wide eyes. “…that he… drained it off and then…”

“No he did not. He did not fucking eat the fish. Nope. We’re done here, get the fuck out!” he takes my bowl from my hands and pulls me off the couch, gently shoving me towards the door, but we’re both howling with laughter.

“You’re, like… damaged,” he teases, brushing my hair out of my face.

“Nah, just the usual run-of-the-mill lowered expectations. You’ve got it easy,” I bite my lip and he drops his gaze to my mouth.

“Well, you deserve a lot better than puking and proselytizing…” he places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, and I close my eyes to hang onto the sensation of it, the way time is slowing down.

“Sweet talker.” He brushes the backs of his fingers against my cheek as his mouth moves down to mine for a soft, sweet kiss. Well, it started that way, anyway… as soon as I parted my lips, he wound his fingers into my hair and wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me into him, and now I’m kissing him back feverishly, winding my arms around his neck, trying to get as close as I can. He shuffles me carefully backward until we find the couch, where we lay down gently and I lose track of everything except the sweetness of being all tangled up together.

*

What the hell time is it? I crane my neck to look around his apartment for a clock, being careful not to disturb him, but I’m distracted by how gorgeous he looks when he’s asleep. His mouth’s open just slightly and he’s snoring softly underneath me on the couch, one arm still wrapped around my shoulders. We’d been making out like a pair of horny teenagers for who knows how long, before deciding together that we were in no great rush, and enjoying an endless twilight of soft kisses, cuddles, talking, and laughing. Until I guess we fell asleep, and now it’s… 1:17? Holy shit.

Jeff’s arm tightens around me and he stretches his other arm out to the side, letting out a contented rumbling noise.

“Sorry to wake you,” I nuzzle into his neck, planting a few little kisses and breathing him in as he gathers me up into a hug.

“Sorry? Wake me like this a little more often, would you?” he mumbles against my temple.

“It’s late, I should get back downstairs and let you go to bed.” I’m saying it, but not really believing it, and all it takes is one whispered “stay?” into my ear before I settle back into his arms, with no intention of going anywhere.

***

Thursday, July 19th, 1990

“I’ve fucking missed you! I’m so glad you’re coming home tomorrow. Do you have any idea what a sausage fest my life is now?”

“You say that like it’s bad.”

“Oh shut up, Cor. You had something to do with that, you know.”

Guilty, I think to myself as I laugh at her through the phone. Lucy and I didn’t have a lot of guy friends until a couple of months ago when all these musician types crashed into our lives. Not that I don’t get along well with men. I actually tend to get along with them better than most women, and all my friends in high school were guys, on account of being the only girl in all the science and math clubs. Guys somehow make more sense to my brain. More straightforward, or easier to joke around with, or something. Or maybe it’s having a brother that makes them seem more approachable? Not that my brother is in any way typical of the species, whatever the fuck the stereotype even means. But a crowd of guy friends is something I’ve not had for a long time. I guess since I started college, started dating Alex. Ever since then it’s been one or two close girlfriends. Mad back home, Lucy here in Seattle. Quality friends over quantity, a thought that makes me grin at getting to see Luce tomorrow.

“Yeah, well, I’ll dilute the testosterone a bit when I get back.” I hesitate for a half second, knowing I’m about to embarrass the shit out of my dear, sweet friend, but also just genuinely curious since we’ve been playing phone tag ever since I made it to Alaska three weeks ago and it’s the first time we’ve actually managed to catch up. “And speaking of sausage, how’s it going with Jeff?”

“Damn it Cora!” she laughs. “It’s been going really well. Like, really well.”

“Nuh-uh, not good enough. I need more information. What date are y’all on now?”  

“Uhm, I’ve sort of lost track, there were a few days where it was like, distinct dates happening, but for a couple weeks now we’ve seen each other almost every day.”

I wolf-whistle. “Busy three weeks.”

“Oh, hush. I’m a lady, you dumb bitch.” I try and fail to stifle a snort, but even she’s laughing.

“The most refined, clearly. So maybe not that much of a sausage fest, then?”

“We are taking things slow,” she says resolutely. “I mean, well, we’ve done… stuff, but like, we haven't… not yet…”

“You’re adorable, you know you can’t even say it? Haven’t had sex yet?”

“Not yet. We’re not in a rush.”

“Fair. You don’t owe anyone shit, you know, least of all a guy for taking you out.” I don’t even know why I’m lecturing her, except that she has dated a line of assholes as long as my arm.

“I know, Mom. We’re just in that… that dream-like beginning part, you know? Where it’s all new, and time slows down every time you touch, where everything’s about wanting and not having? The part you just don’t ever want to end?”

“Yeah, totally.” Except I don’t really know, but she sounds so lost in her happiness that I should keep that to myself. New topic.

“So are you guys going to the party thing tomorrow night? Stone and Chris’s thing?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there. Are you going?”

“Mmhmm. I think I talked Alex into it.”

“Whoa! So let it be written, the history books shall show that on this day, July 19th, Alex Henderson agreed to hang out with his girlfriend’s friends.”

“Yeah, yeah, wise-ass. Should be interesting.”

“It’ll be fiiiine!” she sing-songs.

“You have approximately zero data points on which to base that conclusion.” I’m imagining Stone and Chris talking to Alex and I don’t know whether to laugh or cringe at the thought. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

“I’ll be optimistic for both of us, then.”

“Bless your heart. Speaking of the hermit, I should probably give him a call.”

We say our goodbyes, hang up, and I dial home, but I get the machine. I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand and try not to sound too perplexed as I leave him a message: “Hey, it’s me. Just wanted to hear your voice one more time before I get to see you tomorrow, but maybe you crashed early? You’re turning into such an old man on me, love. Well, if you get this, give me a call back, I’ll be up for a while. And if not, well, I can’t wait to come home to you tomorrow. Love you.”

I’m checking every corner of my shitty motel room one last time to make sure I’ve packed everything when the phone rings about 5 minutes later. Figures, Alex probably crashed on the couch but woke up when he heard my message.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I murmur, “did I wake you up?”

“Gorgeous, huh? Finally seen the light? And no, you didn’t wake me up, I called you, genius. You eat paint chips as a kid, Red?”

“STONE! Fuck you dude,” but I’m laughing my ass off. “What do you want?”

“Child, you cut me to the quick. I’m supposed to want something if I call?”

“Well, A, you’re only two years older than me so cut the ‘child’ shit, and B, it’s you, so…”

“Okay okay, I give, you’re impossible,” he chuckles, “just wanted to say hi. Been a few days.”

Before I left, I’d told him to call me and annoy me every so often to keep me sane on this trip, and he’s been holding up his end of the bargain admirably.

“Yeah,” I grin. “So what’s new?”

I listen quietly while he rambles about the songs he’s writing with Mike, bitches about work, unpacks a tense but seemingly productive dinner he had with Jeff the other night to come to an agreement about working together in a new band. He asks about how the sampling trip is going, prods me for the nth time to make sure I’m coming to his birthday thing tomorrow. We take turns giving each other shit, as usual. After a while, the conversation falls into a comfortable silence and a quick glance at the clock shows that we’ve already been talking for almost an hour, although it’s only seemed like a few minutes have gone by. Somehow, Stone became one of those people to me faster than almost anyone else I’ve ever known. One of the ones you can talk about everything and nothing with, who gets the jokes and gives them back, who it’s easy to be easy with. After a while, he speaks back up.

“So, what are you getting me for my birthday?”

“Haha, presumptuous much? Just where and when am I supposed to be doing birthday shopping? Do you forget I’ve been marooned above the Arctic Circle digging in dirt for three weeks?” I’m giving him maximum sass, which is no less than he deserves, but I feel a spasm of guilt. In truth, I already found Chris a present, but I still have no idea what to get for Stone.

“No excuse for poor planning, Red.”

“Okay. Fossilized polar bear turd it is.”

“Nice talk.”

“You knew what you were signing up for.”

He clucks his tongue and sighs, but the conversation sags without his usual immediate zinger. “Yeah,” is all he says after a moment. I shake my head at the phone. He’s weirder than usual tonight.

“Alright, I’ll play. What do you want for your birthday?”

“I was just kidding, Cora, don’t get me anything. Just come hang out.”

“I can handle that. But that wasn’t my question.”

“I mean it. I just want to have a fun night with my friends. It’s… it’s been kind of a year, you know?”

Andy. I nod stupidly for a moment before remembering he can’t see me. “Yeah, yeah.” Once again, we fall quiet for who knows how long before he breaks the silence.  

“So is Alex picking you up at the airport tomorrow?”

He hasn’t been giving Alex derogatory hillbilly names recently. I’m not even sure when that stopped, but I didn’t notice, and for whatever reason, I kind of miss it.

“No, my car’s there, I’ll drive myself home.”

“WHAT?? Where’s the romance in that? Come on, Jethro, step it up, buddy.” Oh, well there it is.

“And you are the expert on romance since when?”

“You don’t even know, Red,” he purrs. “Hey! Stop laughing! I’m serious!”

“Sure you are. Hate to inform you, Stoner, but Friday’s a work day for most productive members of society. My flight lands at like 2. I don’t expect the world to stop turning for me.”

“Yeah, but asking your boyfriend to meet you at the airport’s not asking the world to stop turning. It’s asking for something people are just supposed to do for one another. I’d think he’d want to.”

“I didn’t ask him!” I’m not even sure why I’m yelling. Are we fighting?

“Okay, okay. Easy. I didn’t mean anything by it.” There’s a bit of a pause, a strained one this time, and I’m not really sure what to say to fill it, but Stone speaks up after a moment.

“You know… if you ever need a ride to the airport, some of us unproductive members of society would be happy to oblige. You dropped everything to drive our asses all over the place when you barely even knew us. I’m just saying, I’m happy to return the favor anytime.”

“I…”

“Don’t make it weird, Cora. Just… just ask. Anytime.”

“Thanks, Stone,” is all I can manage to say as I turn the offer over in my mind. I’m genuinely touched, and also a little confused, before he breezes on like nothing happened.

“So we might have a line on a potential singer…”