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haughtbreaker · 7 years ago

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Thank you so much for the reviews and comments y’all have been leaving. @jaybear1701 and I appreciate all of them. The posting schedule is going to have to be pushed back starting next chapter. Updates will be made on Mondays now to let y’all process episodes over the weekend. :)

“I was in your arms thinking I belonged there, I figured it made sense, building me a fence, Building me a home, thinking I'd be strong there, But I was a fool, playing by the rules The gods may throw a dice, their minds as cold as ice, And someone way down here loses someone dear The winner takes it all, the loser has to fall, It's simple and it's plain, why should I complain.”

Nicole shook her head as the yellow convertible full of young, boisterous women went screaming down the road, their music turned up so loud that the bass rattled her bones even from a distance. Some things never change, Nicole thought. She couldn’t remember how many times she had stopped a car filled with bored Purgatory teens looking for a little excitement and inevitably finding trouble.

Nicole had half a mind to call dispatch and have them tell whoever was on highway patrol to keep an eye out for the convertible. She doubted the number had changed in the past two decades. But she didn’t. That wasn’t her job anymore. She had left the cop back in Purgatory all those years ago and in its place stood a criminal defense attorney who hoped the young women didn’t end up with a reckless driving charge or worse.

The sound of squealing tires pulled Nicole’s attention away from the disappearing blur. She turned and saw a red SUV peel out of its spot down the street. She thought she caught a glimpse of familiar brown hair and she nearly went into cardiac arrest. But the car and its driver were soon long gone before Nicole could be sure. She inhaled sharply, taking in the familiar scent of dust and gasoline fumes that always seemed to permeate downtown Purgatory, and marveled at how ridiculous she was being.

What were the chances of seeing Waverly Earp the second she set foot in town? Slim to none, she knew. She barely resisted the urge to smack herself upside the head for being so foolish. And yet, for some reason, her chest continued to twinge as she watched the car drive away.

Before she could dwell on it long, the hotel’s bellhop, a young man who barely looked 18, approached. Something about him looked… familiar… but Nicole couldn’t quite place why.

“Welcome to the Wainright,” he said cheerfully, straightening out the ill-fitting red cap that sat crookedly on his shaggy hair. “Can I take your bags, Ms…?”

“Nicole,” Nicole answered, feeling an inexplicable need to keep her identity a secret. Though, she wondered if the kid had even been born when she was last in town. She popped the car’s trunk. “I appreciate it.”

Nodding eagerly, he retrieved her luggage and waited patiently as she checked in. He walked beside her as they moved through the lobby toward the elevator. Nicole had to swallow past a lump in her throat when they came across the grand staircase where Waverly had once taken Nicole’s breath away. In a shimmering seafoam dress, Waverly had looked like a -- what had Nicole written on her blog all those years ago? A mermaid, Nicole remembered. A perfect, radiant mermaid.

She kept her gaze trained straight ahead even as the memory of Waverly’s smile, and the way it had made Nicole’s heart stutter out of rhythm, played crystal clear in her mind’s eye.

“Are you here ‘n Purgatory for business or pleasure?” The bellboy interrupted her reverie when they stopped in front of the elevator.

Torture , Nicole almost said. But she bit her tongue and plastered on a smile instead. “Pleasure.”

“The wedding?” He asked knowingly as he pushed the call button. Off Nicole’s startled look, he added: “Lucky guess. It’s the only big thing happenin’ ‘round these parts, if you don’t count Christmas o’ course.”

“Right.”

“Bride or groom?”

“Bride.” It wasn’t a lie, per se.

They stepped inside the elevator. The boy pressed the number 4 and whistled. “Whitney Earp. I swear she is the prettiest, sweetest girl in the whole town.”

Nicole couldn’t stop herself from smiling at that tidbit. Like mother, like daughter . The bellboy continued rambling when they got off on the fourth floor. “I’ve always had a huge crush on her. Don’t tell her I said that now.” He wagged a finger at her. “She and my big sis used to babysit me.” He eyed Nicole curiously. “How d’ya know the Earps?”

She wanted to tell the kid it wasn’t any of his damn business. But being defensive would just call more attention to herself. And she wanted to keep as low a profile as possible.

“Her mother and Aunt, we go a ways back,” she said. They finally reached her hotel room, and Nicole hoped the kid would drop his small-talk interrogation already.

“Ms. Waverly’s terrific too.” He unlocked the door and led her inside, placing the suitcase on a fold-out luggage rack. “As for the deputy…” He made a face that coaxed a chuckle out of Nicole.

“She’s something else,” Nicole offered along with a couple of dollars.

“That’s one way of puttin’ it.” He gratefully accepted the tip with a nod. “Enjoy your stay, Ms. Nicole. If you’ll be needing anythin’ else, do lemme know. Name’s Nedley. Randolph Nedley. But everyone calls me Randy.”

Nicole did a double take. “I’m sorry, did you say…?” She shook her head. “Are you related to Randall Nedley?”

Randy beamed. “He was my papaw.”

Was.

Guilt surged within Nicole. She had gotten the funeral notice, but hadn’t been able to attend because she had been in the middle of a huge trial. If she was being completely honest, a small part of her had been somewhat relieved. She had wanted to remember Nedley as he had been -- gruff and unpolished and very much alive . She hadn’t wanted to see him lying in a box. Lifeless. A glaring reminder of their mortality. She also hadn’t wanted to see Waverly. There was only so much heartache Nicole could take.

Did that make her a coward? Yeah. It probably did.

“I was sorry to hear about his passing,” Nicole said earnestly. She made a mental note to bring flowers to his grave. “He was a good man. An even better friend. And a terrific sheriff.”

Randy’s smile grew even wider. “You knew him?”

Nicole nodded. “Used to be one of his officers.”

Randy smacked his leg and hooted. “Well I’ll be hot damned. Small world.”

“Who’s the sheriff now, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My ma, actually, if you can believe that.”

Nicole nearly choked on her own spit. “Chrissy?”

“Yes ma’am.” Randy hooked his thumbs on his belt, now looking so very much like a younger version of Nedley that Nicole mentally kicked herself for not seeing it sooner. “Gonna follow in both their footsteps someday. Hopefully.”

“I have no doubt you will.” Nicole smiled. “It’s in your blood.”

Randy grinned and dipped his head forward. “Remember, if you need anything…”

“I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He nodded one last time, pleased, and left room. When the door clicked shut, Nicole wasted no time. She unzipped her suitcases and meticulously unpacked. She took her time, pulling out her pants and shirts, underwear and socks. She laid them neatly in the hotel’s dresser. She made sure to hang the dress she brought for the wedding in the closet, which smelled like mothballs and must. She placed her toiletries in the bathroom. Grabbed the bucket next to the small coffee pot on the counter and fetched ice from down the hall. She did everything she could to avoid texting Waverly to tell her she was in Purgatory.

Eventually though, Nicole had done everything that needed to be done and she found herself sitting on the edge of the mattress. A dull ache formed in her chest that crept down her arms and numbed her fingers. It was hard not to recall how she used to dream about becoming Purgatory’s sheriff, keeping the town safe with Waverly at her side. But it just… wasn’t meant to be.

She pulled out her cell phone, which notified her that she had several missed calls and emails, most work related, and a couple of unread texts from her sister.

Becky: Where are u????

Becky: It’s almost Christmas Nicole ffs

Nicole rolled her eyes. She didn’t reply. Instead, she input the number Waverly had emailed to Nicole in reply to her wedding RSVP. Slowly. One-by-one. She wasn’t brave enough to call it. She took a deep breath and typed out a quick message:

Hi. I’m here.

Her thumb froze, suspended over the send triangle. She could still turn back. It wasn’t too late. It would be so easy to just pack up her bag and head back to her car. Drive out of town and never look back with no one the wiser. But she couldn’t. She was tired of that. So, so very tired of running and avoiding. It was now or never. Clenching her jaw, she pushed send.

“I’m serious Jenn!” Whitney’s voice could be heard through the thick wooden door as Waverly pulled up to the homestead. She hadn’t expected it to be completely quiet, not with the construction, but she didn’t expect a verbal battleground.

The drive back from town had done little to clear her mind and heart of the lingering ache 20 years of memories had dredged up, even when she’d driven right past the homestead and circled back around once or twice.

“Oh my God!”

Waverly could recognize the sound of her bridezilla daughter easily and she found herself momentarily tempted to dawdle just a bit, maybe drag her heels in the snow. It wasn’t an unfamiliar thought, as she’d done a few times in the past. When she’d hear Gus and her young daughter arguing, she’d always take a minute to check the tires or rearrange the grocery bags, really any menial task she could find before committing to an appearance.

But just the idea of being alone, allowing the unpleasant memories to impregnate her mind… or even worse, the pleasant ones. The ones that engulfed her with the scent of spicy vanilla and the feel of silky smooth skin under her fingertips. The memories that were beyond senses, beyond touch, but the memory of what it was like to be loved.

Not just to be loved, but the love that only came from someone you couldn’t live without. It was looking into those eyes and knowing how desperately Nicole had not only loved her, but needed her.

So no, Waverly decided as she shook her head, she wasn’t going to hang around outside in the cold with phantoms of a life she no longer lived. Besides, she really needed a drink, and to talk to Wynonna.

“They’re ruined.” Whitney could feel her stress level hitting the roof as she fingered one of the carefully crafted pieces of a centerpiece. They had been meticulously wrapping bottles with twine to be used as flower holders for the centerpieces, each one compiled of a bottle, 3 candles, and a small sand filled glass bowl with a succulent in it placed on a natural cut wooden slab.

The already wrapped bottles had been put in a crate which had somehow fallen over. With Jenn being the closest, there was no one else to blame, and with half the bottles shattered, there was definitely a need for blame.

“I didn’t even touch it!” Jenn was helping to pick up the bits of broken glass and twine.

Whitney sighed as the front door opened, letting in her mother who gave her a look that could only be labeled as cautious. “This is why people elope!” She sighed in frustration, dropping the broken pieces and stalking off towards the kitchen.

She was looking through the liquor cabinet when Waverly entered, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Mom.” She liberated a bottle of gin after a bit of digging.

“Well I’m not here to give you one.” Waverly took the bottle from her daughter’s hand. “I’m just here to point out that these damn center pieces need to be finished and I’m not going to let you be drunk all day. It’s bad enough you’ve got those two in there chugging back $5 bottles of wine.”

“I thought you weren’t going to lecture me.” Whitney complained under her voice, almost a whine.

“And I thought you graduated kindergarten years ago.” Waverly narrowed her eyes, daring her daughter to respond.

“Ugh!” Whitney gave up her search for vermouth with a growl. “This is just bullshit! That's a lot of work now in the trash.”

“Hey.” Waverly stepped up to her aggravated daughter, sliding her arms around Whitney’s tense frame and hugging her roughly until she relaxed. “We’ve still got a few days. We’ll do what we need to do to get everything situated.”

Whitney sighed softly, trying to take a calming breath. She knew her mother was right, but her nerves were on high alert. Scheming had been fun until she was faced with having to tell Jesse everything. Why hadn’t she consulted him in the first place? There was no reason for it and she was going to be in for a fight.

Excitement had turned to guilt which then blossomed into anxiety. Adding that to the anticipation of waiting for… the phone on the counter buzzed, catching both her own and Waverly’s attention. Thankfully her mother turned to return the gin to the shelf and grab a bottle of vodka because seeing the name Nicole Haught crossing her screen might have been a little alarming to say the least.

Hi, I’m here, was all the message read. 20 years and all she had to say was Hi I’m here ?

Pursing her lips, Whitney felt her heart skip a beat. She was in the same town as Nicole, the woman who had supplied the egg, her biological mother. She’d been wanting this moment since finding the journal. Maybe her life would make a little more sense after meeting her. The woman who contributed to her DNA. Her tall stature and unforgivingly red hair.

Would Nicole think it was an insult to her? That she dyed her hair?

Whitney shook her head, looking up to see eyes watching her. She couldn’t risk sending a message while her mother was right there. “I’m gonna... go back to Shorty’s… pick up more empty bottles.” Her words were too delayed, dripping with deception and she had been the daughter of the very investigative Waverly Earp for 20 years.

Waverly’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all you’re going to be doing?”

Whitney froze, her blood running cold. She could hear the thud of her heart in her ears and she gave a tight smile. “Of course.” She laughed and she could hear her own guilt. “What else would I be doing?” She begged herself to just shut up, stop talking like a moron.

Waverly crossed her arms over her chest, saying nothing.

“Seriously, Mom. We need bottles.”

A single eyebrow rose. “And you’re not going to say… sneak off and see a certain deputy who’s on duty right now?”

A wave of relief crashed through Whitney and she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading. “Well… I mean I’m going to be in town anyway. It would just be rude to not stop by.”

“I knew it!” Waverly cheered herself, turning back to grab two glasses from the cupboard. “You can’t fool me.” Pouring a small amount into one glass, she paused, unsure if she should be pouring the second. “Where’s your Aunt?”

“Sulking in the barn. I think she’s trying to contact Xavier.” Whitney whispered, passing by her mother so she could get her bag and coat.

Looking at the one shot, Waverly quickly swallowed it with just a slight wince. She noticed even the James family’s whiskey was no longer on the shelf and she sighed, taking the vodka bottle with her as she moved to the front door where Whitney was wrapping up. “Hey… Aren’t you taking the posse?”

“No. They need to keep making centerpieces.”

“Are you ok to drive?”

Whitney nodded. She wasn’t even buzzed anymore, a fact that was almost depressing. “I’m good. Please make sure they don’t destroy everything.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Waverly looked at the two that were drinking more than gluing. Practically nothing was going to be done while Whitney was gone and she knew it. She stood in the door, watching her daughter pull away before she looked to the barn where she saw someone moving inside. With a sigh, she took a pull from the bottle of Vodka before heading out the door towards the barn.

Nicole’s nerves jumbled and jittered with each step she took down Main Street, still waiting for Waverly’s reply. Perhaps chugging down a cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso at the hotel’s cafe hadn’t been the best of ideas. Now her heart wouldn’t stop racing and she felt like she’d pass out from anxiety.

She tried to focus on anything but her still silent phone, taking in the town after two decades away. At first blush, it appeared as if nothing had changed. Purgatory still seemed like the same mundane municipality that time forgot. Every so often, however, Nicole noticed something different. Nothing astonishingly groundbreaking. But small, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them changes that signaled some form of movement, even if only incremental. The ancient laundromat had been rebranded the Sixpence All the Cleaner Coin Laundry, with more modern machinery than the beat-up, ‘70s-era washers and dryers that Nicole had used. The buildings on the block that included the bank, the surplus store, and the antique shop all had their facades brightened with new paint.

Hell, even Nicole’s old apartment building was graced with newish shutters, navy blue popping out against red brick with more vibrancy than the previous faded gray. She paused across the street from it and trailed her eyes up three floors to the second window on the left. The curtains were drawn and she wondered who lived there after she had left and whether they had ever repaired the leaking bathroom faucet that Nicole never fixed.

It was a shitty little place, Nicole recalled. The floors creaked. The rooms were drafty as hell and the radiator heater never seemed to work. She swore she’d seen sheets of paper thicker than the walls. It was nothing like the high-rise condo she now owned in Chicago, with its sleek, modern appliances and pristine views.

And yet… the cramped little apartment in Purgatory had been home. Never more so than when Waverly was there.

Nicole sat on a rickety chair at her equally unsteady kitchen table. Waverly stood in front of her, facing sideways so that Nicole was at eye level with Waverly’s bare hip. It was a sight Nicole would normally welcome with a cheeky come on, if not for her shot nerves. For the past 10 minutes, she had been pressing an ice pack to the muscles just behind the jut of Waverly’s hip. Nicole’s fingers had gone numb from the prolonged cold and she hoped that meant Waverly’s flesh was similarly desensitized.

“You ready?” Nicole asked, reaching up to caress the small of Waverly’s back with her free hand. She heard Waverly take a deep breath before covering Nicole’s freezing hand with a warm palm and squeezing.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Waverly said, glancing down at Nicole.

Nodding, Nicole removed the ice pack from Waverly’s skin and set it down. Working as quickly as possible, she ripped open an alcohol swab and cleaned the rubber stopper of the glass vial on the table. It was filled with a yellowish oil. Next, she picked up and uncapped a syringe with a long, 18-gauge needle.

“Jeez, that thing is huge,” Waverly commented, a slight tremor in her voice.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Nicole reassured her as she pulled back the plunger to the 1cc mark. “This is just to draw out the progesterone, remember?”

“Right.” Waverly bit her lip, eyes still worried.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Nicole gave Waverly what she hoped was a reassuring smile before focusing back on the task at hand. She pierced the rubber stopper of the vial with the needle and injected air into it. Turning the small bottle upside down, she carefully withdrew the correct dosage of progesterone. She triple checked that she had the right amount. Her hands shook as she pulled the needle back out and removed it. She replaced it with a smaller one and flicked the syringe to dislodge any air bubbles. Waverly caressed her shoulder. That fleeting, but reassuring touch was enough to ground Nicole. She pushed up on the plunger until a few drops formed at the needle’s tip.

Nicole looked up once again at Waverly, who watched her with a soft expression on her face.

“Okay?” Nicole asked.

“Okay.”

Nicole wiped the side of Waverly’s left buttocks with another alcohol pad. Once it was dry, she picked up the syringe, holding it like she was about to throw a dart at Shorty’s. She inserted it in one swift jab. Waverly inhaled sharply and Nicole froze.

“Wave?”

“I’m good,” Waverly breathed out. “Keep going.”

Swallowing hard, Nicole pulled back on the plunger to make sure she didn’t hit a blood vessel. No crimson blooms entered the vial. She sighed in relief and slowly injected the progesterone, pushing past the muscle’s resistance. Once she was done, she carefully extracted the needle. Waverly pressed a piece of gauze to her skin while Nicole disposed of the used needles in a sharps container.

“C’mon.” Nicole stood and led Waverly to the couch where a heating pad was ready and waiting. Waverly lowered her good side onto the cushions and Nicole sat next to her, placing the heating pad on the injection site and massaging the area as gently as possible.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Waverly murmured.

“Yeah, baby, we are,” Nicole said, heart expanding at the unadorned affection in Waverly’s gaze. “You and me. We’re gonna get through this together.”

Smiling, Waverly ran her fingers through Nicole’s hair, lightly grasped the back of her head and leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Nicole’s lips. “Ready for your turn?”

“More than ready.” Nicole nuzzled the tip of Waverly’s nose. “Let’s make a family.”

The buzz from her cellphone broke Nicole out of her reverie and she nearly jumped straight out of her skin. She dug a hand in her pocket to retrieve her phone, shaking so hard that she nearly dropped it once she freed it from her jeans.

Meet me at Shorty’s. 45 minutes.

Heart in her throat, she read the text again. Then re-read it. That was just enough time to get cleaned up at the Wainright before heading to the saloon. Nicole glanced back up one more time at her old apartment before turning on her heel and walking away.

She freshened up quickly in her hotel room. Washed her face and brushed her hair. She debated changing out of her jeans and sweater, before shaking her head at herself for being ridiculous. Nicole didn’t want to look as if she was trying too hard. After one last glance at the mirror, where the few strands of gray in her hair and the slight wrinkles on her face somehow looked more pronounced than ever before, she headed to Shorty’s.

Her heart pounded harder the closer she got to the bar, until the roar of blood in her ears was all she could hear as she pushed past the wooden double doors and stepped inside. It was just as she remembered it, the smell of alcohol sharp in the air and an old country song twanging from the jukebox. She didn’t recognize any of the patrons or the servers behind the bar. And no one paid her any mind as she moved further in and slid onto a barstool in the same spot she used to sit when she visited Waverly all those years ago. She ordered a classic martini.

Just as the bartender set the glass in front of Nicole, someone completely unexpected sidled up to her. The strength of his cologne alone should have given him away.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat drug in,” came the grating voice of a person she hadn’t missed once in 20 years.

Nicole resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she swiveled toward the intruder. “Champ,” she said, terse.

Champ Hardy look like a bloated version of himself from 20 years ago, with his slicked-back hair and a scraggly goatee. The years clearly had not been kind.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face ‘round these parts, Haught.” He sneered. “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing here, huh?”

Nicole clenched her jaw so hard she thought her teeth might crack. “That’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Oh I beg to differ.” Champ moved into Nicole’s personal space. His breath reeked of stale beer. She resisted the urge to clothesline him again, for old time’s sake. “Because if you so much as upset Waverly…”

“Dad!” A new voice cut in.

They both turned as a young woman approached, long brown hair trailing behind her. There was… something ...about her. Something so unexpected that it made Nicole’s heart clench and she had no idea why. When their eyes met, the woman hesitated, but only briefly. She focused on Champ and clapped him on the shoulder

“What are you doing here?” The young woman -- no, Champ’s daughter -- asked him. “You’re supposed to be trying on your tux. Make sure the alterations are all fine.”

“Right,” Champ nodded, moving away from Nicole. “I didn’t forget,” he said in a way that completely belied his claim.

The daughter’s eyes drifted to Nicole. “Who’s your friend?”

“No one,” Champ said. “She was just about to leave.”

“Actually,” Nicole interrupted. “I’m just getting settled in.” She smiled at the young woman and offered her hand. “I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught.”

“Whitney,” she replied, ignoring her dad and grasping Nicole’s hand with a warm, dimpled smile that felt achingly familiar to Nicole. Her grip was firm, yet gentle. “Whitney Earp.”

It felt like the floor bottomed out from beneath Nicole. A wave of vertigo made her unsteady even though she sat firmly on the barstool. “Whitney Earp,” Nicole repeated, her voice sounding hollowing in her ears.

“That’s right,” Champ butted in proudly, placing an arm around Whitney’s shoulders. “Whitney Earp . My daughter.”

Whitney made a face and wiggled out of Champ’s grip. “You really should get going, Dad. You don’t want to be late…”

They continued talking, but Nicole stopped listening, her stomach sinking with the realization that what she had once feared was true.

“I’m serious, Becky. I’m not cut out for that crap,” Nicole sighed in frustration, pulling the rental car into the parking stall. The town’s parking lot was nearly full as it always was on a weekday in the municipal area. The few stalls along the street had been taken and she cursed the nature of small towns.

“So you’d rather waste your life being a cop in some backwater shithole? You got a damn 178 on the LSAT, for Christ's sake. If I'd gotten that, daddy would have given me a corner office. ”

“You have a corner office…”

“After damn near 10 years!”

Nicole just felt...tired. “I already told mom and dad this. I have a life here. I love Purgatory.”

“No you don’t. You’re just there for her!”

“You don’t know anything about my life.” Nicole rolled the window down a crack just to get some air before turning the car off. She’d been gone for three months. A quarter of a year and she couldn’t stay away anymore. Even if she had to pound down the door, she was going to talk to Waverly. She didn’t care that the youngest Earp had changed her number not long after she had left.

They were only supposed to be on a break, why the hell did she cut off communication? She should have come back then. She shouldn't have let the anger build so much. She had thought the distance would give them a chance to think … absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that bullshit.

“I know that when you got here you were moping around like a baby until we gave you casework to do,” her sister started in again, “and don’t even pretend you didn’t enjoy helping dad with that deposition last week. You were made for this, Nic.”

Nicole sighed in frustration. “I don’t really want to talk about this with you. I have to go.”

“Nic, wait.”

Nicole hung up the phone, looking at herself in the mirror, running her hands through shoulder-length dark brown hair. Hopefully Waverly wouldn’t hate it. She’d allowed her sister to talk her into it, citing a change was necessary, that it would make her feel better. It hadn’t. She felt like she had lost a part of herself, like she was changing who she was. New hair… bullshit paralegal work for her parents’ firm...

Waverly was going to hate it.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. The thought of entering her apartment after sitting stagnant for 3 months made her cringe so she'd gotten a room at the hotel. She’d check in, shower and head over to Shorty’s. Or maybe the homestead. Maybe that would be better, to be away from the public for whatever could possibly happen. Waverly did have quite a tempter.

“JUST STOP!”

At first she’d thought she’d imagined it, but when she realized it was real, Nicole froze, the familiar voice sounding across the parking lot. She turned to see Waverly’s rigid form walking right past her car, apparently not recognizing her and stopping at the passenger side of a very familiar pick up.

“I really don’t know why you’ve got your panties in a twist.” Champ strolled up beside her, twirling his keys around his finger.

“I’m fucking pregnant, Champ.” The strength of the curse word sounded strange as Waverly crossed her arms over her chest.

The breath was robbed from Nicole’s chest at the words. Pregnant. She looked back and forth between Champ and Waverly, small puzzle pieces clicking together and revealing a very sickening picture.

“Well duh.” Champ gave her a look that was very Champ. “You knew that already. You took like 20 of those stick test things.”

“What the hell am I going to do?” Waverly’s voice wavered. Even from where she was sitting, Nicole could see the tear slipping down a flushed cheek. “I can’t… it’s not…” She shook her head, unable to find the words. “What the hell was I thinking?”

Champ unlocked the door with a roll of his eyes. “So get rid of it. I mean they got doctors for that, don't they?”

His nonchalance was sickening. Nicole felt nausea bubbling up in her stomach, fueled by anger and jealousy with a hint of grief. It was taking everything in her to stay seated, her hands balled into fists, nails biting crescent marks into her palms as she fought the urge to punch his lights out.

Waverly showed no such restraint. “You asshole!” Waverly pushed Champ roughly, knocking him back a few feet. “How can you… how…” She shook her head, ripping open the door. “Take me home.” She growled, slamming the door closed.

Champ looked around to make sure no one was paying any attention before he shook his head. “Chicks,” he complained, jogging around to the other side of the truck and getting in.

Nicole felt herself shaking, unfurling her hands to see tiny wells of blood. She could barely breathe, barely think, barely even make sense of the train of thoughts and images running through her had. Pregnant. After almost a whole year of trying and failing, injections and implantation, all it took was… Champ.

It was like her heart was breaking into a million pieces. She couldn’t bare to talk to Waverly, not now. Waverly got what she wanted and she didn’t need Nicole to get it. With a shaky hand, she picked up her phone, dialing a familiar number.

“Are you going to hang up on me again?”

Nicole watched as the truck pulled out into the street, tires screeching as it headed out of town, tears slipped down her cheeks. There was no way she could stay, but if it meant watching Waverly and Champ raising a kid together…

“I’m coming home.” she decided, feeling a Waverly sized chasm forming inside her. Starting the car, she pointed it in the directing leaving Purgatory. She could hire someone to pack up her apartment. She didn't ever need to come back.

Whitney grimaced as she watched Champ leave. She really hadn’t wanted to talk to Nicole with him there. Slipping behind the bar, she noticed Nicole was sitting there with unseeing eyes, obviously lost in her own thoughts.

Not that she could blame her, Whitney decided as she looked Nicole over. She was… beautiful. Older now, obviously, but she looked… like money. Her clothes, make-up, jewelry… they all spoke of a well-off life, away from towns like Purgatory.

No ring, Whitney noticed with a small smile. Not that she hadn’t known anyway. Thank god for the internet.

“Did you want another drink?”

Nicole jumped, shaking her head to refocus her eyes. “I’m sorry?”

Whitney pointed to the empty martini glass. “Did you want something else?”

“Yeah.” Nicole looked longingly at the empty glass before nodding. “Whiskey.”

With a small chuckle, Whitney grabbed a shot glass, setting it in front of Nicole and grabbing a bottle.

“So… You’re Whitney Earp. Quite a popular girl around here. ” Nicole picked up the glass, licking her lips in a brief pause before drinking.

Whiney nodded, refilling the glass as it was slid forward. She had a million questions. Why did she leave? Didn’t she want a daughter? How could she have left her mother pregnant?

“I hear congratulations are in order. You’re getting married.” Taking another pause, Nicole looked at the shot longingly before shooting it back.

“I am.” Whitney rose an eyebrow, refilling the glass. She hadn’t planned on getting her new-found mother drunk, but maybe she could get more information that way.

“Married… are you even old enough to be getting married?”

Whitney snorted. It was something everyone brought up. She knew she was young, but she loved Jesse. What difference did it make if they got married now instead of dating for years before they were considered old enough to wed. “I’m 20 thank you.”

Nicole paused with the shot halfway to her lips, her brow furrowing. “20? Are you supposed to be working behind a bar?”

With a laugh, Whitney shook her head. “Drinking age is 18, Ms.Haught. This isn’t Chicago.”

The shot pausing once more, Nicole’s brows rose. “How do you know I’m from Chicago?”

Whitney could have smacked herself in the head. Instead she bit her bottom lip. She was such a horrible liar. What the hell did she think she was doing with all this? “I have a confession,” she started. When she got no response, she laughed nervously. “I know exactly who you are.” She admitted, watching as Nicole’s eye… eyes that looked exactly like her own, doubled in size.

Well… she’d committed now. Whitney reached into her back pocket, pulling out the photo and setting it on the bar. “You’re Nicole Haught,” she repeated from their earlier introduction, “and I guess you dated my mom.”

Nicole’s hand shook as she lifted the photo. She didn’t say anything, instead just quickly drank her shot, waiting for Whitney to fill it again.

Filling the glass, Whitney felt a little guilty about what she was about to say. “I sent the invitation.” She winced as the shot almost made it to Nicole’s lips before it froze, eyes locking with her own. “I changed the contact info a little bit on it... I guess what I'm saying is my mother doesn’t know you’re here.”

The shot glass fell from tapered fingers, hitting the bar in a splashing thud.

#wayhaught #memories that remain #wynonna earp #wefanfic #nicole haught #waverly earp

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