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Melissa had been contemplating her choices for a while when the letter arrived. When they first got back, it had been okay. Not good – not by a long shot, really, after the excitement of being home wore off and the handcuffs of being people again settled – but okay. Melissa would grab a bite with Tai and Van, who needed a third to throw off the still nosy reporters and get between them when they held hands a bit too long. She would meet up with Natalie and Travis at the park for a smoke. She avoided Shauna like the plague and Misty the same because she kept wanting to reminisce and Lottie was in a psychiatric hospital in Switzerland of all places, but it was okay.
Then, Tai and Van broke up and Van stopped opening the door. Or answering the phone. And there was maybe one last fight that Melissa did her best to block out of her memory.
Then, Natalie brought something a bit harder than weed to the park and shrugged when Melissa didn’t want any. Then she stopped bringing weed altogether. Melissa got the hint when Natalie and Travis stopped inviting her out with them.
Misty went off to college and Mom and Dad were starting to get angrier about the pile of paperwork laying on the kitchen table. The paperwork the school kindly sent over for Melissa to go through and select an Alternative Education Plan so she could finish up her diploma without actually going back to high school. Except Melissa couldn’t focus for shit and it got hard to breathe just imagining trying to do a math equation or explain the suffragette movement or the floral imagery in Flowers for Algernon. Melissa loved her parents, she did, but they didn’t know what to do and Melissa sure as Hell didn’t know what to do and what kind of mind fuck was it to mourn your child, then get them back as wrong as Melissa was, now?
So yeah. Melissa knew she had a choice to make, because she couldn’t keep going on like this. Staying was an option. Arguably the obvious option – stay in Wiskayok, pick an education plan, graduate, then get a job and move on with her life the way she dreamed back in Canada. Every day, though, staying felt more and more like a pipe dream. An impossibility. A fantasy crafted by the naïve and wishful.
Leaving was much more feasible. The only question was what leaving looked like, exactly.
She found the brochure on accident, shoved within a bunch of tutoring pamphlets her mom picked up from the library. Or maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe her mom wanted her to leave, too.
Melissa never asked.
Instead, Melissa flipped through the out-of-place brochure advertising for trail repairman in Alaska. The pay was garbage, but housing was provided – cabins. Melissa nearly threw the brochure out then and there. Nothing about the actual experience was enticing, other than the distance and promised solitude of a small Alaskan town outside of Anchorage near Chugach State Park.
Then, the letter came in the mail. A heavy, cream-colored envelope and card with gold lettering proudly proclaiming the celebration of love and matrimony for Jeffrey Anthony Sadecki and Shauna Marie Shipman. Melissa called the number on the brochure that night, packed up her brother’s old car that technically was not hers and she only really learned to drive less than a month earlier, and made the long, long trip to Alaska.
The older woman – Anita - who met her when she arrived didn’t ask questions. She didn’t seem to recognize Melissa from anywhere or, if she did, didn’t care. She showed Melissa the cabin. One room with a small furnace, a bare bed, table and chairs, and some cabinets. She was kind enough to find a pillow and some old quilts for the bed, until Melissa could afford her own bedding – though she did end up letting Melissa keep them even after.
“A girl needs a solid set of quilts, up here,” Anita said.
The work was hard. Resetting rocks and fixing embankments and steadying small footbridges over ice-cold creeks. But it was soothing, in a way. Melissa never thought she would enjoy being back amongst the trees and the dirt, and maybe enjoy was the wrong word, but she felt settled in a way she never did back in New Jersey.
Her coworkers didn’t recognize her. Melissa knew that much. It was fair – Melissa wasn’t the most recognizable of the Yellowjackets. The seniors had gotten much more attention in the news, both while they were gone and when they came home. After all, their stories were about lives cut short on the brink of great change. Melissa was just supposed to go into her senior year. There were no stories of college plans or internships or anything like that yet. Even without that, she knew her coworkers found her odd. Quiet. They invited her out and Melissa would join them at the one restaurant in town and they would tell her how quiet she was, how reserved.
“Hmph,” one older man at a table next to them muttered once. “That’s how you know she’ll be the one who’ll stick it out.”
None of them really knew what to say to that. Melissa wasn’t sure what he meant either, until about a year into her job, when she looked around and realized all the coworkers she once had had moved on and she was surrounded with new faces. It was the winter that had done it, Melissa realized later. Long, cold, dark – there wasn’t much work to be done, though the park kept them on and had them doing administrative tasks and small errands. One by one, Melissa’s coworkers dropped away, replaced slowly as the weather warmed up, again.
“Not many people last very long,” Anita shrugged when Melissa finally commented that she was the most experienced person on the crew. “Every now and again we get someone like you. But not often. It’s hard, living out here like this.”
Melissa scoffed involuntarily at the mere idea. Anita’s brow furrowed at her and Melissa shrugged, not making eye contact, muttered something along the lines of, “Had harder,” before shuffling away quickly. It wasn’t long after that that Anita handed Melissa a letter from an attorney’s office.
“You better not be getting sued,” Anita said.
Melissa didn’t say anything, simply opened the letter. She had been expecting it, eventually, though she wasn’t sure it would find her all the way in Alaska. It had been a while since she’d talked to her parents, though she had eventually called to tell them where she had gone. It had been a calmer call than she expected – no yelling, no anger, just a quiet resignation that made Melissa never want to call, again. She answered their phone calls, though, the rare weeks they called.
The check was for an amount of money both too big to imagine yet nowhere near enough. Nowhere near the price of the life that Melissa lost out in those woods and she wondered if the families of her less fortunate friends received the same check. More, maybe. Less? Maybe best not to think about it.
It was enough to buy a proper cabin. A two story one with a proper bathroom, instead of having to trek down to the one campground bathroom Melissa had shared with her coworkers, and a real kitchen with a stove and an oven. It was cute, on a half-acre of land, and it suited Melissa’s needs perfectly.
Anita had her reservations, the first day she swung by after Melissa moved.
“I know you don’t spend a lot of your check,” Anita said as she did a cursory walk through. “But I know there’s no way you bought this after just a year with your shit pay.”
Melissa let out a little huff at her words. The closest she got to laughing nowadays, really.
Anita squinted at her, “You didn’t take out a massive mortgage, did you? And you know maintenance on these things can be a pain in the ass.”
“I came into some money,” Melissa said, shrugging with one shoulder.
Anita stared. Melissa stared back. Anita sighed, “Well. I’m happy for you, girlie. Now, when are you getting a real job?”
Despite Melissa’s insistence that she did have a real job, Anita pushed and pushed until Melissa found herself with an actual ranger job at the park. She didn’t hate it at much as she thought she would. Her supervisor thought she was hilarious.
“She just straight up tells hikers they’re gonna die!” Clara, said supervisor and Anita’s daughter, howled at an office dinner, a few months into Melissa’s new job. It was down at the one real restaurant in town, the ranger supervisors liked to get everyone together for a dinner at least once every few months, to make sure everyone had some of an idea who everyone else was. “Seriously! Just – you’ll die. That’s it. To their face!”
“That is not what I said!” Melissa exclaimed, feeling her face heating as the rest of the table either laughed or stared in shocked, but mildly impressed horror.
“That is basically what you said,” one of her coworkers, Mandy, who had been present for the incident, agreed.
“I told him that if he went out camping without any sort of shelter to sleep, outside, in October, in Alaska, that he would freeze and die. That is different!” Melissa said. She still could not understand that man, or why he would wander into the Ranger Station in the first place if he was choosing to be so moronic.
“Usually, we say things like That behavior is ill-advised,” Mandy said gently. For the fifth time. “Not that you’ll freeze and die. Guests don’t tend to like that.”
“Yeah, well, guess who didn’t go camping that day and who didn’t freeze and die?” Melissa grumbled as she tucked into her chili. She stood by her words that day.
And life moved on. Melissa traded in her brother’s old car for a sturdier truck. She swung by the animal shelter to drop off a baby deer some dumb ass tourists had decided to put in their fucking Subaru and got swindled by a bundle of big, sad brown eyes and dark fur. The dog had just been so pathetic looking, sitting by her cage door and wagging her tail at anyone who passed by. So, even though Melissa never had any intention of having a dog, she found herself walking out with one that day.
Melissa named her Genny. She decided not to examine that too much.
Having Genny around was nice. Nicer than Melissa expected. She liked riding in the truck, liked going on hikes through the woods and didn’t mind laying down in the snow and watching Melissa chop wood for the old iron fireplace that heated the cabin. It didn’t take long before Melissa trusted her enough to bring her into work – plenty of Melissa’s coworkers had similar dogs. It helped, though there were nights when Melissa couldn’t sleep, Genny plastered to her side and snoring, and Melissa thought too hard about the average lifespan of dogs to humans.
One of the great things about Genny was that she was quiet. An important quality, because one of Melissa’s favorite things about her job and her cabin were watching the wildlife – birds and small mammals, all sorts of little critters wandering about that she could just enjoy, not worry about needing to catch to eat. Despite all expectation, Genny didn’t bark or growl, not even at the squirrels, letting out a quiet boof at most.
Really, the only time Genny barked was when someone she didn’t know came through the gate that Melisa had put up at the end of the driveway and it was so rare, Melissa almost forgot that Genny knew how to properly bark. Then, one evening, while Melissa leaned against her countertop with a cup of tea, Genny barked.
Loud. Aggressive. Insistent.
Melissa startled so badly she nearly spilled her tea down her shirt. As it was, she did burn her hand a bit, swearing as she dumped the drink into the sink and wrapped her hand in a dishcloth soaked in cold water.
“Jesus Christ, Genny!” Melissa yelled as she made her way to the front of the cabin. “What the hell?!”
There Genny stood, front two paws on the bottom of the window, yapping like a madwoman. Melissa slipped her fingers into Genny’s collar, pulling her down, before she looked up and out the window and-
There was a car. And a woman. A dark haired woman in not nearly enough layers for the cooling Alaskan weather – mid-September, but Melissa was never warm anyways. Even through what layers she wore, Melissa saw the unmistakable swell of a decently pregnant woman. The dark hair and the pregnant belly sent a shock of fear through her body, chased by memories of a cold winter and a scared, pregnant girl and a baby boy born with his eyes closed. The knock on the door and Genny’s continued barking shook Melissa out of her memories.
Probably a tourist, Melissa thought as she made her way to the door. A tourist who got lost and needed directions, even though it wasn’t tourist season and, even if it was, it was not the destination most people went when they were more than six months pregnant.
Before Melissa could so much as say hello, though, the pregnant woman on her door went wide-eyed, starstruck almost, as she said, “Melissa?”
Shauna.
Shauna Shipman was on her doorstep.
Shauna Marie Shipman was on her doorstep and pregnant.
Then, Shauna Marie Shipman was in her house. And pregnant. And talking a million words a minute and Melissa heard none of them.
“Back up,” Melissa finally managed to say as she found herself sitting next to Shauna on her couch. “How did you find me?”
“Stole it from a letter in your parents mailbox,” Shauna said. Like that was normal.
Melissa blinked. “I haven’t sent them a letter in years.”
“Yeah, I went to your old cabin, first,” Shauna said. “It took a bit of asking, but eventually people got me pointed in the right direction. You aren’t easy to find, you know.”
Yes. That was kind of the fucking point. But Melissa couldn’t say that, so instead, she said, “You’re pregnant.”
And even seven years later, Shauna still made the same facial expression when faced with someone saying something ridiculously stupid or obvious, as she glanced down at her pregnant belly, and said, “Obviously.”
“You drove across the country pregnant,” Melissa said, because that sounded awful.
Shauna’s eyebrows rose. “Is that how you got here?”
“Well, I wasn’t pregnant,” Melissa said.
“Yeah, no shit,” Shauna snorted a little, like they were joking around, like they were friends, like they had ever been friends. Then, “You seriously drove all the way from Jersey to Alaska?”
“…Yes,” Melissa said after a moment. “How did you get here?”
“I flew, like a normal person,” Shauna said, the corner of her mouth ticking up in a smile. Teasingly.
What kind of Twilight Zone had Melissa accidentally stepped into?
“Wait, like, in a plane?” Melissa asked as the words processed in her brain.
“No, with the wings I spontaneously sprouted.”
Melissa shook her head, tried to clear it, tried to make any of the evening make any sense whatsoever, and finally landed on, “What are you doing here, Shauna?”
Even to her own ears, the words sounded tired. Exhausted, even.
Whatever strange façade Shauna displayed of teasing and joking and acting like everything was fine and normal cracked a little at Melissa’s question. A hand rested, almost shakily, on her stomach, but just for a second before moving away, as if burned.
“I’m pregnant,” Shauna whispered the words, like she was seventeen and pregnant with her best friend’s boyfriend’s baby, not twenty-five and happily married.
“Obviously,” Melissa parroted.
“It’s Jeff’s,” Shauna said, as if Melissa wouldn’t know. She swallowed, thickly. “I’m pregnant with Jeff’s baby. Again.”
And her words were so horrified that Melissa’s heart clenched. Some long dead part of her that had wanted to matter to Shauna stirred and yelled at Melissa to fix this, help Shauna, somehow, someway, though she didn’t have a clue what that would look like or where to start. Melissa shoved that down.
“You’re married,” Melissa said. “To Jeff. Isn’t- wasn’t this kind of expected?”
And then Shauna burst into tears. That was about where Melissa’s ability to stand her ground crumbled to dust. Not that she had had much of a chance to begin with, if Melissa were being honest with herself. She never could stand her ground when it came to sad brown eyes and dark hair. Before she knew it, Melissa was offering for Shauna to stay, as long as she wanted, until she knew what she wanted to do next.
“What the fuck am I doing?” Melissa grumbled as she gathered her quilts and an old pillow from the upstairs linen closet, prepared to make a bed on the downstairs couch. She continued grumbling as she closed the closet door and made it halfway down the stairs.
Then, “Mel?”
Melissa stopped, turning halfway to see Shauna standing at the top of the staircase. She was wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a large, long-sleeve t-shirt, both borrowed from Melissa and both too big on her. Melissa had grown taller than Shauna in their time apart and it showed in the ways the pants pooled around Shauna’s ankles, the shirt arms were just a bit too long. All in all, Shauna looked adorable and harmless and vulnerable – not words Melissa typically associated with Shauna Shipman.
Then again, this was Shauna Sadecki, now. Maybe Melissa didn’t know this woman at all. It would explain Melissa’s evening a little better, maybe.
“Yeah?” Melissa asked.
“Where are you going?” Shauna asked. She had the audacity to blink her Bambi eyes.
Melissa stood, at a loss for words, quilts and pillow in hand. “…Couch.”
Shauna furrowed her brow. “Why?”
And it was beyond Melissa’s capabilities to explain to Shauna the many reasons why they should not, under any circumstances, share a bed. Which somehow meant that she found herself being led back up the stairs and into the bed. Shauna didn’t like sleeping alone, Melissa could remember that, so she laid down in the bed and Shauna laid down next to her and Melissa thought that was it.
Except, then, an arm snuck around Melissa’s waist and a cold nose tucked into the side of her neck and-
Fuck.
Fuck.
Melissa blinked back the tears that suddenly sprung in her eyes as Shauna settled next to her. She didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.
The early days were confusing, to say the least.
“It’s like I’m living someone else’s life,” Shauna said, when Melissa finally asked why she left. Then, later, when they were tangled up in Melissa’s bed and they hadn’t done anything, but somehow that felt worse, “It’s like I’m livingJackie’s life.”
Or, rather, the life that the people around Jackie had imagined for her, Melissa supposed. After all, she remembered the way that Jackie talked about Jeff in those last few days, how she slept with Travis after Doomcoming. Natalie once said, high off her ass and staring at the sky as she laid on a picnic bench, that she had spent the rest of their time out their jealous of Jackie. Jackie, who died before things got bad. Jackie, who died as easily as the rest of them fell asleep that night.
“I can’t bring a baby into that, Mel,” Shauna said. And Melissa understood.
A little over a week into Shauna’s stay, Melissa brought her out to the restaurant in town, to get her out of the cabin before Shauna went stir crazy.
“I didn’t know you had friends,” Melvin, who owned the restaurant, said oh-so-kindly.
Melissa just rolled her eyes. Unfortunately, that was not the last unsolicited comment of the night. Usually, the townsfolk gave newcomers and tourists a once-over, maybe a curt hello, and went on their merry-way. Apparently, though, since said newcomer was with Melissa, that meant everyone and their mother needed to stop by their table and introduce themselves.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Anita said with a big smile. “Good to know our girl has someone else out there other than that damn dog.”
“Yeah,” Shauna said and Melissa tried to bury herself in her pint glass, ignoring the way that Shauna’s stare burned into her skin.
Later that night, as they got ready for bed, Shauna asked, “Do you not have friends out here?”
Melissa felt her face heat. “You met basically the entire damn town in the restaurant, we all know each other.”
“Yeah. They all kept talking about you being all alone out here,” Shauna said, because apparently bluntness was not something she had grown out of.
Melissa gritted her teeth and slipped into bed, determined to not look at Shauna, because she had given Shauna enough. How much more of her did Shauna want? How much could Shauna take before Melissa was truly left with nothing? “It’s better that way.”
Shauna stood by the side of the bed. Staring. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”
Melissa scoffed, glaring up at the ceiling as a bolt of anger flashed through her. “That’s new.”
There was no response. Just Shauna slipping into bed and pressing herself tight against Melissa. Neither of them slept much that night, the unspoken history between them louder than ever.
“What exactly is your plan?” Melissa asked a few days later. Things between the two had warmed up, mostly, largely due to Shauna acting like that one night hadn’t happened at all. Like Melissa hadn’t exposed the anger that still festered in her, exposed how conflicted she was by the entirety of this situation, but helpless when it came to Shauna.
“What do you mean?” Shauna asked, taking a big bite of her ice cream, before turning back to her bowl of pickles. Pregnancy cravings. At least this time they were able to bow to the whims of them.
“You don’t have much longer before they won’t let you on a plane,” Melissa said. Then, because it suddenly occurred to her, “Does Jeff even know where you are?”
Shauna laughed, like that was a ridiculous idea. “Of course not.”
Oh, God. “And you’re sure there isn’t a missing person’s report on you back home?”
“Tai and Van know where I am,” Shauna said. Then, corrected herself, “Well, they know I’m in Alaska. They don’t know why or exactly where.”
Thank God. Melissa could handle Shauna being in her space, but if all the other Yellowjackets started following…Half the reason Alaska had been so appealing was the idea that even if the others knew where she was, they wouldn’t want to come. Not that she thought they would, really, why would they want to follow her? But it made her feel better to have the added deterrent of the distance, weather, and general landscape.
“Besides, I’m not going back to New Jersey,” Shauna continued. “Ever.”
“Oh.” Melissa said, because there wasn’t anything else to say to that.
Shauna smiled. Then, “We should probably see an OBGYN, though. The baby is going to be born some time or another.”
So they saw an OBGYN, all the way in Anchorage, and Melissa learned more about pregnancy than she ever expected to.
“This isn’t my first pregnancy,” Shauna blurted halfway through the appointment, holding Melissa’s hand so tightly, Melissa thought she might break the bones. “I’ve had a stillbirth before.”
The doctor was appropriately sympathetic. Asked just enough questions to get the gist of the circumstances. “I don’t believe you are at any heightened risk this time around, considering the circumstances around your first pregnancy, but I am happy to schedule more appointments if that would make you more comfortable.”
“Please,” Shauna said without pause.
It was only on the drive home that Melissa asked, “Was that the first time you’ve been to the OBGYN?”
“No,” Shauna said.
Except Melissa knew Shauna better than that, even this new version of Shauna that confused her sometimes. “Since you’ve been pregnant.”
Shauna didn’t say anything. That was answer enough.
Melissa’s fingers flexed around the steering wheel as she glared out the windshield. “Jeff didn’t think that was a bit concerning?”
Shauna shrugged, fiddled with her fingers in her lap, arms stretched around the baby. A girl, they learned. Melissa had noted a tension had relaxed in Shauna’s shoulders when the doctor said that and Melissa was trying not to think too hard on that.
After a moment, “Jeff doesn’t…notice, a lot.”
Yeah. Yeah, that made sense.
“I didn’t want a baby,” Shauna whispered.
Melissa had guessed, but it startled her that Shauna would admit it at all, let alone in daylight in Melissa’s truck. Most of her confessions had been coming at night, in the safety of the bed, where words felt easier and neither of them addressed what they said. Where Melissa could admit that she was really just waiting out her natural clock and Shauna said she was pretty sure she hated the Taylors. This confession was different. More real.
“I was on birth control,” Shauna said. “He didn’t know.”
“Did he want a kid?” Melissa asked.
Shauna shrugged. “Maybe. He never said anything about it really.”
“Huh.” Melissa chewed on this information. “Pregnancies are pretty rare on birth control, aren’t they? Isn’t that the whole point?”
“She’s stubborn, I’ll give her that,” Shauna said, almost fondly to her belly as she rubbed at it with one hand. “It’s about 93% effective, in reality. I wasn’t the best about taking the pill at the same time everyday and I guess…Well. Here we are.”
“Here you are,” Melissa repeated.
A moment passed. “Thank you. For everything.”
Melissa wasn’t sure what everything was, but her chest felt warm and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Of course, she says,” Shauna snorts, leaning her head against the passenger seat window, looking at Melissa. “After everything I’ve done to her.”
“Oh, we’re just bringing up all our things right now, are we?” Melissa asked, startled.
“Why don’t you talk to Van?” Shauna asked. “Or Tai?”
Which was the second time that Shauna had brought up Van and Tai together that way. “Are they back together or something?”
“…were they not together at some point?” Shauna asked.
Well, that certainly answered that question. “They broke up before I left. It was pretty rough.”
“Wait. Did you and Van…?” Shauna trailed off.
After a moment of silence, Melissa glanced away from the road to see Shauna sitting straight in her seat, staring at Melissa with a much more severe intensity than previously. “Yes?”
Yes as in keep going.
Yes as in I’m listening.
Yes as in a polite way to say what the fuck are you saying?
Yes as in not the way Shauna took it.
Shauna’s eyes widened almost comically. “You did?!”
“I did what?”
“You and Van hooked up?” What?
“Excuse me?!” Melissa shrieked, her head now fully turning between Shauna and the road. “No? What the fuck?”
“Than what did it matter that Van and Tai got back together? Or that they broke up in the first place?!”
“Uh, because Van became a miserable bitch when Tai dumped her?” Melissa could not believe where Shauna’s mind immediately jumped. After all, the last, first, and only girl Melissa had ever so much of kissed sat right in that truck.
Shauna furrowed her brow. “What does that mean?”
“Just- I don’t know,” Melissa grumbled. “We had been hanging out. I tried to keep hanging out with her after Tai left, but…She didn’t have much time for me. Or patience. She never liked me that much, anyways.”
“Why wouldn’t she like you?” Shauna asked.
For fuck’s sake, “I don’t know, Shauna, why don’t you ask Van?”
“That’s stupid,” Shauna said. “Who wouldn’t like you?”
This was not a conversation they should be having while Melissa was driving. Or while the sun was shining. Or ever. “Plenty of people.”
“That’s stupid,” Shauna repeated.
“Bit hypocritical coming from you, but okay,” Melissa said, largely under her breath as she kept driving.
Not enough under her breath, though, apparently. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jesus. “Nothing.”
“No,” Shauna’s voice got louder, stronger. “What does that mean? I like you.”
Melissa sighed, propped her left arm on the door as she rubbed at her forehead. She could feel the oncoming headache. “Sure.”
“I do!” Shauna exclaimed.
“You like me when you want something from me.” It wasn’t that Melissa snapped, really. The words weren’t overly harsh sounding or anything of the sort, just tired. She barely glanced at Shauna.
“That’s not true-”
“Do you want McDonalds?” Melissa asked, as she saw the famous arches on an approaching exit sign.
“I want to talk about this,” Shauna said.
“I don’t.” Melissa glanced at Shauna. “McDonalds?”
They got fries and shakes and they stopped talking about things that made Melissa’s heart hurt in a way it hadn’t in years. That night, after Melissa turned off the lights and climbed into bed, Genny on one side and Shauna on the other, Shauna pressed a gentle kiss to Melissa’s cheek before laying her head on Melissa’s shoulder and closing her eyes. Once again, Melissa didn’t get much sleep that night.
Melissa wasn’t completely sure what Shauna got up to when she was at work. With the rental car, Shauna could pretty much do what she wanted. In the early days, Melissa found herself holding her breath every day on the drive home, waiting for the day that she came home to the rental car gone and Shauna having vanished from her life once more. Yet it kept not happening to the point that, the day Melissa did come home to the car gone, it knocked the wind out of her. Melissa didn’t know when she had stopped holding her breath.
She parked her truck and sat in her spot next to the cabin as the nausea rolled through her. She could faintly hear Genny whining at her from the passenger seat, a cold, wet nose poking at her cheek. It felt a million miles away, though, as her nose got stuffy and her eyes watered.
Then, a knock on her window. And Shauna, standing there. Melissa rolled down the window.
“Mel?” Shauna’s brow was furrowed. “What are you doing?”
Melissa just stared. Confused.
“Are you okay?” Shauna asked. “Why are- Are you crying?!”
“No,” Melissa lied.
“Open this fucking door,” Shauna pulled at the door handle until Melissa unlocked it, throwing the door open. Shauna scowled at Genny, “Some good you are, huh?”
“Don’t be mean,” Melissa sniffled as Shauna tilted Melissa into her chest, rubbing her back.
“Did something happen at work?” Shauna asked, still confused though seeming less concerned. “Mel?”
“No,” Melissa sniffed. Then, after a moment, “You weren’t here.”
Shauna muttered a string of curses under her breath. “I went shopping.”
Shopping?
“With what money?” Melissa asked.
“Same money that bought the plane ticket,” Shauna said after a moment. Which…made Melissa actually curious about where the plane ticket came from. “Come on, help me get the stuff inside.”
Stuff included things like rugs, which Melissa had never bothered to buy, and lamps. Candles. Fluffy blankets. Soft, cozy things - non-necessities that Melissa never bothered with when she went to the larger towns.
“Genny’s not gonna like that,” Melissa said when Shauna showed her the new vacuum.
“Genny can get over it,” Shauna said, which was not what Melissa meant by that.
So Melissa took a seat on the couch and watched as Shauna got to vacuuming. Or tried to.
“Okay, what the Hell?” Shauna finally asked, after about ten minutes of trying to vacuum. Vacuuming was a bit of a difficult task when eighty pounds of determined dog energy kept forcing itself between you and said vacuum, then sitting and staring at you with big, sad eyes.
“She thinks she’s protecting you from the vacuum monster,” Melissa explained.
Shauna’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
Then she looked down at Genny.
Then back at Melissa.
“You’re kidding,” Shauna said.
Melissa shook her head. “Nope. Same reason she doesn’t like anyone going in the bathroom alone – the shower monster lives in there.”
“Why are you like this?” Shauna asked Genny.
Genny, being a dog, stared up at her, tail wagging on the floor.
“This isn’t fair,” Shauna told Genny. “How am I supposed to win when you’re like this?”
“Win?” Melissa asked.
“I’m gonna grab the broom,” Shauna said in lieu of answering.
The cabin did need some sweeping and Melissa was tired, so she didn’t say anything.
Except then Shauna was scrubbing the bathroom.
And getting up early to cook breakfast.
Then when Melissa went to make her lunch, she found one already prepared and ready to go.
The final straw was when Melissa came home one night to see Shauna, now around eight and a half months pregnant – plenty of weeks left, but also at the stage where standing for long stretches of time was difficult and Shauna wasn’t sure when the last time she saw her own toes was – making dinner and setting Melissa’s small dining room table.
“Oh, my God, sit down!” were the first words out of Melissa’s mouth when she saw the scene.
Genny had similar thoughts, if the way she was leaning her body against Shauna’s legs and whining said anything.
“I made dinner,” Shauna smiled brightly, but sounded slightly winded, which did not help Melissa’s blood pressure.
“Jesus Christ,” Melissa was at her side, pulling one of the chairs out and pushing Shauna into it. “Why- You didn’t need to do that!”
“I wanted to,” Shauna said. “It’s not that big of a-”
“You shouldn’t be standing up that long!” Melissa plowed through. “You’ve said standing’s gotten more difficult.”
“I wanted to help.” Stubborn. Shauna Shipman had always been stubborn.
“You can help by not making me think it’s dangerous to leave you home by yourself when I go to work,” Melissa said, moving further into the kitchen to see what Shauna had made for dinner. Spaghetti. Easy enough, but still – standing. “I’ll serve it up, but for Christ’s sake, Shauna.”
“This wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for,” Shauna informed her as Melissa got the bowls and cutlery out.
“I appreciate you making dinner,” Melissa said as she worked to serve up the meal. “But you didn’t need to do that. I care more about you resting than if dinner’s ready by the time I get home.”
Melissa probably could have been nicer in the way she approached the situation, but it didn’t even occur to her to worry about that until she carried the plates to the table to see Shauna crying. Silently and trying to wipe the tears away as fast as she could, but crying all the same.
The sight broke Melissa’s heart.
“I just wanted to be helpful,” Shauna explained, slightly weepy, after Melissa quickly set the plates down and asked her what was wrong, kneeling in front of Shauna and helping wipe away the tears. “You’ve been so nice, letting me just- move in like this. I- I didn’t- I don’t want you to think I’m just using you.”
Which…
Yeah. Okay. Maybe Melissa had felt that way. Kind of still felt that way, maybe even said as much when they drove back from the OBGYN that first time, but now she felt like a complete asshole about it. Which wasn’t exactly fair considering their history, but it was kind of hard to be mad about that sort of thing when the object of your anger was a crying pregnant woman who you also maybe, totally still loved.
“Stupid pregnancy hormones,” Shauna tried to laugh away, as she wiped away her tears. “I swear, they make everything ten times worse.”
“You don’t need to be helpful to stay here,” Melissa said. “You know I’d never turn you away.”
Not when Shauna really needed her. Not even after everything. It was one of the reasons Melissa ran away, knowing how much of a hold Shauna still had over her, how little that hold was reciprocated.
“Because you love me,” Shauna said.
It hurt, a little, to hear Shauna say those words.
Melissa nodded.
And then Shauna kissed her.
Melissa should have pulled away. Melissa should have said no. Melissa should have done anything besides kissing Shauna back, because Melissa knew how this story ended and it ended with Shauna giving birth, coming back to her senses, and hopping back on a plane to New Jersey and her husband. There was no other way for this to go, even if Shauna had been there for over two months and Melissa felt shaky and sick at the idea of her leaving.
But Melissa did not pull away. Melissa kissed Shauna back. It didn’t go much farther than that, but…It happened. And it kept happening. The cuddling increased. Shauna kissed her goodbye and hello and in between and it felt so nice. Nicer than anything had felt in a long time and Melissa became addicted.
Just one more, she kept telling herself. One more kiss and she would ask Shauna to stop. One more hug and she would tell Shauna no more. One more night in their shared bed before Melissa would finally move down to the couch.
What’s the real harm, Melissa found herself asking one night. They were cuddled up on the couch under one of the comfy blankets and watching a movie on the new TV Shauna had bought, because Melissa had never bothered to buy one. It was temporary, but so was everything in life. What was the harm in indulging in a bit of connection, one last time, before Shauna left and Melissa found herself alone, again?
“We need to buy a crib, soon,” Shauna said one Saturday, after the drive back from the latest OBGYN appointment. “And a car seat. Oh, God, and clothes! I don’t think they let you leave the hospital with a naked baby.”
The car seat and clothes would have to be bought in store, but the crib was another matter. Getting large items like that all the way out in their little town was expensive. Always had been, which was why people became resourceful. Melissa was one of those people. It hadn’t taken long before she had started learning how to build her own furniture and after a couple years, she became quite good at it, if she said so herself. After all, she had built all of the furniture currently in her home. So, she got to work on a crib. Worst case scenario, she would sell it for a couple hundred bucks. People in town liked her work enough, she’d sold a few chairs, a dining room table here and there, it wouldn’t be long before someone needed a crib and Melissa could get the thing off her hands when Shauna left.
So Melissa set to work. It somehow became the most stressful item of furniture that Melissa ever built, perhaps because the idea that it was meant to safely hold Shauna’s baby while she slept felt like a lot of pressure and the computer at the library just kept telling Melissa all the ways that cribs could kill said sleeping babies. It was also slow going, because Shauna suddenly became the neediest version of herself possible.
“I don’t want to go alone,” she would say when she needed to go shopping or wanted to go on a walk or anything else, batting her eyes at Melissa and Melissa would yield in seconds. Every errand suddenly became a two person job and Melissa was starting to get concerned the crib wouldn’t be ready in time, because it felt like every time she went to the work shed, there was Shauna, ready to drag her off to one thing or another.
“Shauna, I really need to work on this,” Melissa finally said one day, when Shauna came by to ask if Melissa wanted to go baby clothes shopping. Which, of course Melissa did, baby clothes were adorable, but there seemed to be plenty by now and the baby really needed a place to sleep before she came. Especially since, considering all the warm Alaskan winter clothes Shauna had been buying the baby, it seemed like Shauna did not plan to leave before spring. Which meant the baby would need a bed for at least a couple months. “Clothes aren’t really gonna matter that much if the baby doesn’t have anywhere to sleep.”
Shauna stood in the doorway of the shed, staring at Melissa, knelt before one of the crib legs.
Melissa stared back.
“The baby?” Shauna asked.
“Yeah?” Melissa said after a moment.
Shauna pointed at the wood. “That’s for the baby?”
“Yeah, I’m building the crib?” Melissa cocked her head to the side. “We talked about her needing one.”
“Yeah, I just…I don’t know, I thought we’d- This is a crib,” Shauna said.
Slowly, Melissa nodded. “Yeah. A crib.”
“Not a bed,” Shauna said.
Which… “I mean. It’s a type of bed.”
“But not a bed for you.”
“…no,” Melissa said slowly. “It’s a crib. For the baby.”
“Oh.” Shauna said. “Good.”
And then she left.
“You thought I was building a bed?” Melissa asked that night, once Shauna was trapped in bed with her.
Shauna groaned, burying her face in Melissa’s neck. Answer enough.
“Why would I be building a bed?” Melissa asked.
“I don’t know,” Shauna grumbled.
“Where would I put this bed?” Melissa found herself laughing at the absurdity. “There’s only two bedrooms!”
The other bedroom that sat empty for ages was now nearly overflowing with baby supplies. Clothes and diapers and soft, cuddly toys Shauna kept grabbing. It would cost a fortune to take on the plane, but Melissa supposed she could always drive the things to Anchorage and mail them from there.
“I don’t know,” Shauna continued to groan. “Stop bullying me, I’m pregnant.”
Melissa pressed a firm kiss to Shauna’s forehead. The arms wrapped around Melissa tightened, briefly, in response.
That Christmas, Melissa brought Shauna to Anita’s house. Anita invited Melissa every year and, every year, Melissa smiled, thanked her for the invitation, promised to think about it, and never showed. That year, Shauna brought a pie and Melissa brought beer. And Genny, of course, in a little ugly sweater that Shauna had picked up.
“You’re happier,” Anita said, after cornering Melissa in the empty kitchen.
“Hm?” Melissa asked around a bite of ham. She had come in to grab some more food for Shauna. “What?”
“You’re happier,” Anita repeated. “You smile more. I’ve never seen you smile at anyone, except that damn dog at yours, and now you’re all smiles. Especially for that girl of yours.”
Melissa blinked, her face heating. “She’s not- We’re- It’s not-”
“Hush. I don’t care what you get up to, I care that you’re happy,” Anita said. “That girl makes you happy. It’s good for you.”
“She has a husband,” Melissa said. “She’s carrying his baby.”
Anita squinted a bit. “She has a husband that she hasn’t seen for over three months.”
“Well-”
“She ran thousands of miles away from him and to you,” Anita continued.
“It’s complicated,” Melissa said.
Anita huffed. “I think you’re overcomplicating this. That girl clearly loves you. Even if you’re too stubborn to notice.”
Melissa didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to imagine a world where Shauna was in love with her, because it would hurt that much more when Shauna left, so Melissa finished making the plate and brought it to Shauna. She let herself feel warm and fuzzy when Shauna smiled up and thanked her for the plate and tried not to think about how cold she would feel when Shauna left.
Two weeks after Christmas, Melissa woke up to Shauna shaking her at around two in the morning. Sixteen hours later, the baby came screaming her way into the world. Melissa didn’t remember most of the in-between, but she remembered Shauna screaming and her heart racing, then, suddenly, a crying baby and a nurse pressing a warm, wriggling being into her arms.
“Oh, my God,” Melissa whispered, transfixed by her little nose and her tiny perfect mouth and the way her eyelids fluttered. The baby curled into her chest, calmer and sleepy after her ordeal, swaddled in the hospital blanket. Melissa’s heart felt like it would burst in her chest.
One of the nurses helped Melissa sit down in a chair next to Shauna’s bed.
“She’s perfect, Shauna,” Melissa whispered.
Shauna’s eyes opened, looking at Melissa, exhausted but smiling. She looked down at the baby. “My girls.”
Melissa’s heart skipped a beat.
“She’s so beautiful,” Melissa said.
Shauna’s brow furrowed a little. “She’s not crying. Why is she not crying?”
“She’s sleeping,” Melissa tried, but Shauna was now trying to sit up.
“Why isn’t she crying, she’s supposed to be crying,” Shauna said, her voice headed to the wrong side of panicked.
“Shauna, Shauna, honey,” one of the nurses tried, getting closer to Shauna and going to put a hand on her shoulder. “You need to lay down.”
“No. No, why is she- what’s wrong with her?” Shauna asked. “She shouldn’t- She’s too quiet. She’s too quiet, why are they always too quiet?”
Melissa moved, perched on the side of the bed, baby tucked close to her as she grabbed one of Shauna’s hands. “Shauna. Shauna, she’s fine.”
Shauna shook her head, wild look in her eyes, “No. No, something’s wrong. Something’s-”
Her words cut off as Melissa carefully pressed two of Shauna’s fingers to the side of the baby’s neck.
“She’s fine,” Melissa whispered. She could feel the eyes of the nurses on them. “She’s sleeping. She’s fine.”
Shauna nearly bit the nurse’s head off when he asked if she wanted him to take the baby to the nursery.
“We’re fine here,” Melissa smiled, awkwardly.
It was a quiet night, the three of them squished into the hospital bed, Melissa careful to not fall asleep before putting the baby in the hospital bassinet. Except Shauna wasn’t falling asleep either, watching the baby carefully.
“You should rest,” Melissa whispered as the clock ticked steadily towards 2 in the morning. A solid twenty-four hours since Shauna first went into labor.
Shauna shook her head.
“Baby,” Melissa whispered, the pet name slipping out almost without notice.
“If I go to sleep this is all going to disappear,” Shauna whispered back, staring at the baby. “If I go to sleep, I’ll wake up in New Jersey. With Jeff. And you’ll still be gone and I’ll still be pregnant and scared and alone-”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Melissa promised, her grip tightening around the baby and the jolt of icy fear of the little girl being taken from her, of Shauna leaving, of these feelings being left with nowhere to go. “I’m not.”
“You did, though,” Shauna looked at her. “Before the wedding.”
“Shauna-”
“I went to your house. A week before the wedding,” Shauna said.
“…I was already gone, by then,” Melissa said.
Shauna nodded. “I know.”
“Why would you go there?” Melissa asked.
Shauna stared at Melissa. “You really don’t know?”
Melissa stared back.
“Because I love you,” Shauna said. Like it was simple. Expected. “The same reason I came here.”
Melissa looked down at the baby in her arms. “You aren’t going back to New Jersey.”
“I never was.”
In the end, it was a toss-up who cried more that day: the baby, later named Callie, Shauna, or Melissa. Although it definitely was not Callie.
The drive home with Callie in the car was one of the most frightening drives of Melissa’s life, but they arrived home safe. Anita opened the door before they even parked the car.
“That damn dog’s been whining the whole time,” Anita said.
Genny seemed content to Melissa, though, with her family back at home. She was gentle and cautious around Callie, soothing that concern. Shauna even seemed glad to see Genny.
“She’s a good dog,” Shauna said, when Melissa pointed it out.
Melissa did watch with bated breath as Shauna lowered Callie into the crib.
“You don’t seem as stressed out about this,” Melissa said as they stared at sleeping Callie.
“Because I watched you put a full ass turkey in that thing,” Shauna reminded Melissa. “She weighs like a third of that.”
“Still-”
“And I trust you,” Shauna said, taking Melissa’s hand and pressing a kiss to Melissa’s cheek, before resting her head on Melissa’s shoulder.
Melissa sighed, forced herself to settle into her body. It felt like many things had suddenly clicked into place, like tension she hadn’t realized she had been holding had fled her body at once, leaving her feeling amped up and fidgety.
“Jeff isn’t going to like this,” Melissa said after a moment. It may have been months, but Callie was still Jeff’s. Even if he didn’t know where to find Shauna, eventually, he would show up.
Shauna sighed, heavily. “Yeah. I know. The Taylors won’t either.”
“The Taylors?” Melissa asked.
She felt Shauna nod. “You know that money I’ve been spending?”
“…yeah?”
“It’s theirs.”
…
“Wait, what?” Melissa asked.
“I didn’t have any money that was mine, you know?” Shauna said. “Jeff would have noticed if I withdrew anything, so I needed to get it another way. I told the Taylors we needed money for baby stuff and that Jeff was too proud to ask.”
Oh, boy. “…is that fraud?”
“I don’t think so. Tai said it wasn’t, but then she lectured me about how she didn’t practice that kind of law and I tuned out.” Lovely.
But for a moment it was them. Melissa, Shauna, Callie, and Genny, and everything was cozy and warm and Melissa’s cabin felt like home.
It wasn’t until the weather warmed and the snow melted and Callie started babbling that Genny stood at the windows and barked. Melissa, upstairs with Callie, heard Shauna yelling at Genny from the kitchen.
“Let’s go see what’s got Genny all worked up,” Melissa told Callie with a smile.
Callie simply laid her head on Melissa’s shoulder, always content to be held.
Melissa walked down the stairs as there was a knock on the front door.
“Did you invite someone?” Melissa called back to Shauna, who had recently started a crusade of making them Active Members of the Community.
“No!” Shauna yelled. “I have book club this afternoon, remember?”
Right, book club.
“Then who the fuck is at our door?” Melissa grumbled. Then, to Callie, “Don’t say that word.”
Melissa opened the door. “This is private pro…perty.” She blinked.
Tai and Van stared at her, jaws slack.
“Hi?” Melissa said after a moment.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” Van swore as her eyes moved between Melissa and Callie.