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ageofnations · 2 years

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Marigold // jmk // pt. 11

Summary: After staying behind while Danny goes on tour, you do everything you can to salvage your relationship. Will you be successful? Or will you find refugee elsewhere?

Word Count: ~6.6k

Warnings: none really! a bit of anxiety and crying, but nothing severe

A/N: i can’t apologize enough for the hiatus. thank you for everyone still waiting on this series, i appreciate you all for sticking with me. i’m sad to say that this will be the last chapter of marigold. we may see bip in the future, but for now, i hope you enjoy the conclusion of this series.

playlist // Chamomile Masterpost // Marigold Masterpost

Part 11

Can we talk?

You stared at the three words, thoughts racing faster than you could control.

You searched for any hidden meanings that were possibly veiled in what could’ve been considered a harmless sentence.

You imagined this as another ploy to start a fight. A chance for him to finally let you have all the pent-up anger from seeing you. A chance for him to trap you and accuse you of breaking his heart.

Maybe you should’ve felt silly for overanalyzing such a short message, but you just couldn’t understand why. Why he’d even reach out. Why he’d text instead of just calling. What he possibly had to talk about. Why now?

Aside from it all, you felt almost guilty upon receiving the message. Sure, it wasn’t your fault that he was texting you - up until this point, he still had your number blocked - but there was something about it that made you uneasy. Something about getting a text from your ex-boyfriend, innocent or not, made your stomach rumble and your skin crawl.

You looked at the sleeping boy wrapped around you, hoping that he hadn’t begun to stir from the bright light of your phone illuminating the space. You scanned his features, his chest rising and falling at a steady pace, his face pressed against the pillow beside you. It seemed as if Josh was still sleeping soundly against you, completely oblivious to the situation at hand.

You wish you were that lucky.

Things hadn’t progressed since you got back from their tour. Sure, you had been able to exist in the same room as each other for a day, and sure, you had even smiled at one another. But after that, things went back to how they had been. You stepped off the plane and went your separate ways. No contact. Nothing.

Was this a step in the right direction?

Josh leaves in an hour. Call me then.

After you saw your message deliver, you locked your phone and placed it back under your pillow. There was no use in trying to go back to sleep, especially with Josh getting up soon for some family excursion that his mom had set up, but you at least wanted to try and rest while you could. You convinced yourself that it would only be a simple phone call. Something that just happened and would help your relationship with the group return to normalcy. It may even bring you closer to Josh. Closing one door, allowing yourself to fully enter the other.

Eventually, you were able to push it out of your mind enough to act as normal as possible.

But once the hour passed, Josh still scurrying around your apartment to gather any forgotten items, you became antsy, fearing that Danny would call at any moment. You shifted nervously at the edge of the bed as you watched your boyfriend flit about the room and stuff miscellaneous belongings in his bag. You felt hyper aware of your phone, as if it were burning a hole into the pillow it was tucked under.

And of course, Josh noticed.

“I know I’m leaving for a bit,” he said, looking at you warily. “-but you look like you’re gonna throw up.”

You huffed a laugh, glancing towards your hands to avoid his gaze. “Just gonna miss you.”

It wasn’t a lie, but you hated how well he was at reading you.

“I’m gonna be away for less than 48 hours, mama.” He was smiling, but his brows were knitted with concern. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Josh. Really. I probably just-”

When you finally looked back up at him, you could no longer give your made-up excuses. His frown made you swallow any malice or frustration that you had, and you instantly regretted your tone with him. You sighed, digressing from your bluff. It should’ve been simple, but you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation to him. It was an easy ‘Danny texted me,’ but your lips couldn’t form the sentence.

Your hand was reaching under the pillow before you realized what you were doing. You unlocked your phone to show the messages to Josh, but before you could hand him the device, you froze. You had missed a message, and soon you understood why he hadn’t called you as soon as the hour passed.

I’d rather talk in person. Come over?

“Y/N, seriously, you’re scaring me.” Josh had begun to cross the room, and he was standing over you within what felt like seconds.

The idea of seeing Danny - by yourself - made your mouth run dry. You had only been able to be around him because of Josh. He had been your saving grace, the force that kept you grounded and seemingly unphased by your ex-boyfriend’s initial reaction to you. But now, you wouldn’t have that. In minutes, Josh would be leaving you alone to fight your own battle, and you were quickly realizing that you were unsure of your abilities to do so.

Without responding to the message in front of you, you handed your phone to Josh. And you waited. You waited for him to burst at the seams with anger. To be mad at you for even entertaining the idea of talking to Danny. To seem betrayed that you didn’t come clean first thing this morning. But he didn’t.

In fact, he seemed relieved as his eyes came across the conversation. A smile even flashed across his features as he sighed and handed your phone back to you.

“I was wondering when he would reach out,” he said, rubbing a hand on your cheek before turning his back to you. He returned to the task of packing his things, his demeanor seeming much too cool for the circumstances.

“You knew?” You were suddenly able to find your voice again, confusion evident in your response.

Yet again, he shrugged as if it were no big deal. “He talked to me first. Asked if it was okay that he wanted to talk to you.”

You let the statement sit in the air for a moment, processing just what was said. What it meant.

Danny had already talked to Josh about whatever it was that he wanted. Josh knew, and he was okay with it. Danny had gone out of his way to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries, but for some reason, you still felt uneasy about it.

“What does he want?” You asked hesitantly, looking back at the messages in front of you.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs to answer that, Bip. I know it’s scary, but I think you should go. If it all goes wrong, you can blame me.” With his bag set up by the door of your bedroom, he shot you a smile and returned to you, sitting beside you after kissing the top of your head. “I’d go with you if I could.”

You sighed. “I don’t know…”

“It’ll be fine,” he promised softly, nudging your shoulder with his own. “I’m not gonna try to convince you to stay or go. But… do what you need to do, okay? Whatever that may be.”

If you had ever forgotten why you had fallen in love with him in the first place, this was sure to remind you. He was always gentle with you, understanding in every way, rationalizing everything you overthought. His reassurance provided the comfort you needed to calm down, to face the task at hand with a level head. His love, his compassion, was enough to make you feel capable to conquer whatever feat you were faced with. You pitied people who didn’t get to see him in the ways you did.

“I love you, Josh,” you responded finally.

He smiled at you, placing a tender hand on your cheek to draw you nearer and close the distance between you.

God, you’d never get enough of him.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing you once more before reluctantly pulling away. “Walk me to the car?”

You nodded with a smile. “Of course.”

–

It was hard to believe that you were able to come to a decision and stick to it. You imagined you would’ve turned around and walked away from the door almost as soon as you knocked on it. But here you stood, outside the front doors of the boys’ shared home, waiting on someone you used to be enthusiastic about seeing. Your heart would’ve been beating erratically with excitement of being alone with Danny. You would’ve imagined all of the possibilities that may arise, and once you had started dating, you would’ve thanked every higher being for allowing you time to have him to yourself for a moment.

But now, you weren’t full of excitement. You weren’t eager to see the man you once loved. You were just afraid. You were fearing what would happen once you entered their home, and that fear almost caused you to get back in your car and leave. You fancied that option, relishing in how relieving it would feel to just forget about this whole ordeal. But when the door finally opened with Danny standing on the other side, you knew there was no turning back.

He looked good. Tired, but good. You had adjusted to his new appearance enough to see that - although it was different from the Danny you once knew - it fit him. He had grown into the look.

He wore an expression of astonishment, yet he donned an almost pained smile.

“You came,” he breathed, almost as if he believed you wouldn’t have shown up. Not that you blamed him. You hadn’t responded to his message, not wanting to agree to something you weren’t sure you’d stay true to.

There was a twinkle in his eyes, and there was something in the way he looked at you that made your cheeks run hot. You quickly looked at your feet to break eye contact. “I did.”

He took a deep breath before moving out of the doorway and motioning for you to come inside, which you obliged. “Can I get you anything?”

You shook your head as you moved past him. “No, I'm fine. Thank you.”

Your answer sat in silence for a moment while you stood in the familiar space of the living room. You started to feel the awkwardness of the situation creep on you, and you began to overthink everything. Had you sounded rude by turning down his offer? Were you supposed to say something else? Should you have even come here?

“You look good.” The tentative compliment tumbled out of his lips and interrupted your thinking.

That was different. It was a simple nicety, something you should have been used to, but you certainly weren’t expecting. You were in simple jeans and a band tee, nothing too flashy to applaud.

“T-thank you, Danny,” you answered softly, unsure if you should return the phrase to him. Would he get the wrong idea if you did?

He worked his lips to form another smile before gesturing to the sofa. “We should, uh, sit?”

You made note of his distance as he sat. He shared the couch, but he was far enough away from you that he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. He picked up on your uneasiness, just as he always had in years past.

“I asked you to come here so we could talk,” he started, quickly clarifying himself. “So I could apologize.”

Oh, you thought. So we’re jumping right into this.

Your fingers wrung together as you tried to desperately keep yourself occupied. “Okay.”

“And you don’t have to stay, not if you don’t want to. You can leave at any point, and…” He trailed off, as if he knew his next words would hurt. “...and we won’t have to talk again. If that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t. It was far from what you wanted. But you couldn’t manage to tell him that. You could only sigh and remain focused on your sweating, shaking hands.

“So…I’m sorry,” Danny continued, knowing that he needed to be the one to start the conversation, as difficult as it was. “I don’t have an excuse for what I did, and I don’t want to make any excuses for myself. I just… want you to know that I realize I'm in the wrong here. And as much as I want your forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve it in the least bit.”

And for the second time today, you waited. You sat and waited for yourself to wake up. To come out of this spell where everything you had been hoping to hear was finally materializing. But you didn’t. You didn’t wake up because this wasn’t a dream. This was real, this was Danny apologizing.

You didn’t forgive him, but you knew that saying so would only escalate things. You didn’t forgive him, but you appreciated his apology. You didn’t forgive him, but every beat of your heart was telling you to.

You sighed, trying to formulate your thoughts so this could go as smoothly as possible. “You fell out of love, that’s not your fault.”

His head cocked to the side, and he studied you carefully before speaking. He seemed to be replaying your response over and over in his mind, trying to see if he had heard you right. His voice was all but a whisper when he finally spoke again. “Do you really think that’s what happened?”

The question sounded rhetorical almost, so you stayed silent.

Danny was shaking his head at your rigid form. “I was stupid, I was an ass, but I never once stopped loving you.”

You scoffed at his dismissal. “You can't call that “love,” Danny. There’s no way.”

“It was love. Every fucking night… It was always love.” There was a stern tone hiding behind a mask of desperation. It resembled the nights you’d argue about god knows what, knowing the conversion was fruitless in the end. You had always given in to him then. You’d always let him win, even if you knew he was at fault, just so you could move on. But not now.

Now, his persistence infuriated you. It lit a fire under you, one that was quickly spreading faster than you could control.

“Always love? Radio silence, occasional booty calls, sometimes just downright ignoring me? That’s love to you?” The pure disbelief made it impossible to manage the volume of your voice, the intensity making him cower back in an instant.

“Bip…”

“No, Danny,” you interrupted, snapping your head to look at him. “You called me here, and I truly want to forgive you, but I’m not sure you even know what you’re apologizing for.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but knowing better than to make things worse, he digressed. Suddenly, he became the one trying to avoid your gaze. His eyes fell to the floor, fixated yet not looking at anything in particular.

“I waited on you. I waited on you to snap out of whatever fucking daze you were in and realize that I was still here. That I was still your Bip, even from miles away, through the arguments, through the weeks of not hearing from you. I waited. And once you finally told me what you wanted, you still barely said anything at all. All of a sudden, you wanted nothing to do with me, and you didn’t give a shit about how that made me feel. And you have the nerve to call that love?”

His silence indicated that he knew you were right. That although he never stopped loving you, he stopped showing you that he loved you. And that’s exactly where he went wrong.

Of course he cared about your feelings about everything he did. He felt like shit for hurting you, but in that moment, ending the relationship seemed as if it was easiest. It was much easier to rid himself of one responsibility while he had so much going on. He had gotten rid of the burden that he carried from having you around while he couldn’t give you the consistency that you needed. That you deserved.

You were a priority of his, you always have been. But you weren’t his first priority.

You sighed, choosing to look away from him as tears clouded your vision. The deep breath helped ground you. Although you were still exasperated with emotion, you could slow down, allow yourself to be vulnerable, and speak your mind.

“I've been afraid that Josh is going to leave me one day.”

That’s when Danny looked back up at you, his expression just as incredulous as his tone. “Why do you think that?”

You couldn’t help the eye roll that occurred before you answered, but you still spoke softly, carefully. “I never thought you’d leave me. We made promises. We were basically kids when we met and yet we still planned a future together. We were the sweethearts that everyone knew would end up in love. We were that couple. If we couldn’t last then how could I expect Josh and I to-”

The words were cut off by a choked sob that you weren’t aware you were holding in. Finally letting out the tears that suffocated you felt almost cathartic, but what Danny saw- what he heard - broke his heart.

You were right. He didn’t know what he was apologizing for. He knew he messed up, he knew he hurt you, and he knew you deserved an apology. But until now - until he saw your body shake as the tears streamed down your face, until he saw you physically unable to look at him - he didn’t realize just how badly this had affected you.

When he saw you and Josh together, he would have no idea that you were concerned about the stability of the relationship. In his eyes, you essentially seemed to be one step away from marriage, stuck in a honeymoon phase that would never cease to exist, even if it had been only a few months. But now he finally saw that, while everything seemed to be perfectly fine with you and Josh, you were constantly plagued with worries. And it was all Danny’s fault.

He waited a moment, searching for the right words to say, debating if he should say anything at all.

“He’d be stupid to leave you,” he whispered.

Although you still couldn’t manage to look at him, the sentiment reduced your crying, and Danny saw that as a win.

“It was my fault that we didn't work out,” he continued. “The fame, on top of finally having you after years of being crazy about you… I just couldn’t handle it all at once. You helped me find the confidence I needed, but that confidence quickly turned into cockiness and I was immature and-”

He took a shaky breath to quell his rambling. “-and I have no way of knowing just how bad I hurt you, but please believe me when I say… I'm so sorry, Bip. So fucking sorry.”

Danny watched as you looked to the ceiling, seeming to wish away the tears as you tried to compose yourself. He noticed you nibbling at your quivering lip, and he could imagine the various things running through your mind. It reminded him of all the times you had come to him for things like this, venting and ranting about whatever was going on. Reminded him of the times you’d lean on him when you were hurt, trusting that his embrace would comfort you. But now he couldn’t even do that.

He’d never forgive himself for this.

“I didn’t want to make you cry again,” he spoke softly, trying to fill the silence with something while he shifted uncomfortably in his place beside you.

You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. “It’s just…a lot, Danny.”

“I know,” he agreed. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

You felt him scoot closer to you, the space on the couch that had once been empty, now occupied by him. There were still a couple of inches that separated your bodies, but he was close enough that you could feel the heat that radiated from him. You could smell his cologne. You could sense the same comfort that he exuded in years past.

“You don’t deserve to feel insecure in your relationship because of someone else. Josh is fucking in love with you, almost to the point where it’s embarrassing, really.” He paired the quip with a husky chuckle before he continued. “But he really cares about you, and he gives you the consistency that I struggled to give. He’d do anything for you.”

For some reason, you did find comfort in his words. They were reassuring in a way that was foreign to you. You no longer felt the lingering urge to keep crying, you found it easier to breathe, and you felt the tension melt from your muscles.

“I saw he took you out for your birthday,” Danny noted, only slightly changing the subject. He saw that talking about Josh’s love for you seemed to help, and as much as it pained him, he knew it was what you needed.

And when he saw your lips turn into a smile, he knew that he was right.

“He did,” you responded.

“You looked…wonderful. That dress was absolutely perfect for you.” He marveled with a smile. The expression wavered, however, as he started his next sentence. “Is that when…?”

He trailed off, unable to finish his question. You could only imagine how he was trying to tiptoe around the subject, avoid the self-anguish and intrusion on the privacy of your relationship. There were so many things he could’ve asked. So many things he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know how. Is that when you realized you loved him? Is that when you guys made things official? Is that when he finally managed to make you forget all about your past relationship?

“Kinda,” you answered, assuming that all of his potential questions would have essentially the same answer. “It’s complicated.”

He managed a soft smile. “I want to hear about it, if you’ll tell me.”

“Danny-”

“I mean it,” he interrupted. “Really.”

And he did. It hurt to know that he would no longer be the one to make you happy. It hurt to know that you had already moved on. It hurt to know that you were happy while he was not. But he needed to. He needed to hear you say that you were satisfied with what you had now. He needed to know how your new relationship came about, that Josh hadn’t taken advantage of you while you were at your lowest. He wanted to hear you rave about the man you were in love with, because to Danny, he knew that might be the only way he’d see you smile again. He wanted to know what your side of it was, how you reacted and how you felt at the end of it all, and how Josh had come to pick you up when you were at your lowest.

So you told him. You explained every detail, every bit of the story from your point of view. You picked up from moments before Danny had texted you to break things off. You carried on through the next week or so, describing each little event and emotional rollercoaster. Danny listened with a pained, yet genuine, smile as you babbled about the things Josh did to make you feel better. You talked to him as you would about any other crush or significant other in your past. And now as you ended your retelling with happy tears and a beaming smile, he could see his best friend again. He saw you no longer as his ex, the girl whose heart he broke; he saw you as Bip. His Bip.

“I like the way he treats you,” Danny acknowledged once you had concluded.

“Josh?” It was obvious who he was talking about, but his genuine remark took you by surprise. You hadn’t expected him to say such a thing.

He nodded. “Yeah. Just seeing you guys together, it makes sense.”

“Oh.” You knew you didn’t need his approval, but finally having it made something inside you almost feel content. Almost. “You’re not… mad?”

“No,” he huffed a laugh, shaking his head at your question. “I mean, I was at first. God, I was livid. Especially seeing those first few pictures of you two, I just… couldn’t grasp the fact that I had really lost you. But, I'm glad he took care of you. I’m glad that he is taking care of you.”

“I’m glad, too,” was all you could muster in response. Your smile slowly began to fade, but you weren’t too sure why.

“Then that’s all that matters. Don’t worry about what I think.”

Danny noticed your reservation. No matter how much he was trying to assuage your worries and reassure you that he was okay with this - at least as okay as he could be - he couldn’t help but catch on to your distant nature. He nudged your side a bit, hoping that his playfulness would ease whatever was troubling you.

“I mean it,” he continued. “Really, I’ll be okay. I just want you to be happy. You’re happy with him, right?”

You nodded, however your tone was still low, face still sullen, body language still closed off. “Very. He’s good to me.”

The sudden lack of emotion in your response caused Danny to raise an eyebrow at you. “And you’re sure?”

“Positive.” You huffed a laugh at the protective connotations behind his questioning. But you wanted to be sincere with him. You were plagued with a feeling you needed to sort through with him. As easy as it would be to continue with your indifference, you knew that this might be your only chance to put it all out in the open. Everything you were feeling, everything you had felt throughout this situation, deserved to be said. “I just- never mind.”

“No, don’t do that,” Danny chided, turning slightly to face you. He even placed a hand on your knee to bring your attention back to him, the action sending electricity through your body. “Talk about how you’re feeling, nothing is going to get resolved if you don’t.”

You sighed and searched for the words that would convey the millions of emotions and thoughts you were experiencing. “All of this… sitting here and talking to you… it’s surreal.”

He took a minute to respond, and you had to glance from his hand to his face to make sure he was still paying attention to the conversation. Finally, he questioned you with a tilted head. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. We’ve always had each other. We’ve always been ‘it’ for each other, and I thought I’d have you forever. And when you left, I convinced myself I’d never be able to see or talk to you again.” You were repeating yourself, you knew that, but it was the only way you could instill a decent explanation. “But here we are.”

He nodded and looked away from you, ridden with guilt again and not entirely sure what to say next. “Here we are…”

The words hung in the air, and the tension seemed to thicken. There was a sticky residue left from you starting this conversation, now it was your turn to clean up your messes.

“Can I tell you something?” You blurted.

Mixed in with the sigh that escaped him, you heard the word “Anything.”

“Don’t get me wrong when I say this… I hate what you did. I can’t tell you how fucking bad it hurt, but somehow…well-” You paused, already embarrassed by what you were about to say. You wondered if you should even say it to begin with. “Would it be insane to say that I miss you? Us? I mean, it all ended so fast I-”

You scoffed at yourself, annoyed with how flustered you were becoming with this conversation. This was Danny, your best friend. You should feel comfortable enough to tell him how you felt.

“You were my first real love,” you continued. “And we had so many firsts together. I just didn’t really get to savor all of our ‘lasts’, you know?”

“Lasts?”

You breathed a hurried sigh. “Do you remember our last kiss? Our last ‘I love you’? Fuck, even our last phone call?”

Danny seemed to think about it for a moment, recounting the memories of your relationship, but finding that it was no use. Of all the things he remembered, those were certainly not easily accessible. “...No.”

“Exactly,” you proceeded. “Neither do I.”

His thumb rubbed against the seam of your pants, making you hyper-aware of his hand placement and how long it had been there. But did you really mind?

You continued with your weak attempt at an explanation. “We focus so much on those firsts that… when the lasts come, we don’t even fucking realize it. We don’t get the closure we need. And I don’t really know what I'm saying, but I-“

In a motion completely unexpected by you, you felt your face colliding with another. Danny’s.

He kissed you.

He is kissing you.

It felt just like it had back then. Back before all of this. Careful, unhurried, and completely focused on the present. You could feel the love he had for you, the feelings that still reside. And yet, you could also sense the hints of loneliness behind the kiss, something that hadn’t been there in the past.

It felt right. But oh, so wrong.

You shouldn’t enjoy this. You shouldn’t be appreciating how his lips fit perfectly with yours, like a key to a lock. You shouldn’t be thinking about the leftover taste of toothpaste in his mouth, the same kind that he’d always used and kept a tube of at your place. Or the taste of the same Chapstick flavor he would always argue with you about being the best kind. You shouldn’t acknowledge that, as horrible as the pairing of the two was, the taste was familiar, comforting.

His hand had shifted from your knee to your thigh, and you could tell by the way he was squeezing it that there was a piece of him that desperately wanted to deepen the kiss, but the hesitance was too strong. His other hand had moved to your cheek, holding you to him for as long as you’d let him.

It wasn’t until you felt that sweet burn in your lungs from lack of oxygen that made you detach your lips from his. He didn’t protest the movement, but you heard him sigh with disappointment.

Your fingers wrapped around his as you pulled his hand from your face, holding it gently in your lap and watching as his thumb caressed the soft skin on your knuckles. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you knew he was looking at you with an intensity that you couldn’t quite place.

You sighed to yourself, knowing how difficult it would be to move on from what had just happened. “Dan…”

“You said you wanted closure…” His interruption was a warm welcome, especially considering you had no idea where to start. You noted how gravely his voice had become, something that had always happened after he kissed you. “Is that enough closure for you?”

No, you wanted to scream. You didn’t want closure. Closure would mean that there was no turning back, no return to what had become so normal for you both. You didn’t want closure. Closure would mean that the end was no longer near. It was now right in front of you.

“Look, I’ll never stop telling you I love you, even if I can only say it platonically. I’m still gonna bother you with phone calls just like I used to. You don’t have to worry about those ‘lasts’... but this-” he paused, squeezing your hand to further drive his point. “This is different... I know I won’t get to kiss you again, and I probably shouldn’t have then, but I- I miss you, too. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing you.”

The admission sat in silence while you both ruminated on his words. Of course, you had always wanted to hear him say things like this. You wanted to hear that you meant as much to him as he meant to you. You wanted to hear that you weren’t the only one adjusting to the feeling of loss, of grief. You wanted to hear that you got your best friend back, but his words still wrenched your heart.

It hit you. Although you knew exactly who you’d choose when given the chance, no matter what, someone would be hurt by your decision. You could imagine the smile that would creep up on his face, beaming from being told that he was still the one for you, elated that you had not moved on from him. You could imagine the feeling of being reunited with the man you had spent countless weeks, months, years pining over.

But you could also imagine the feeling of crushing the heart that belonged to the man you loved now. You could imagine the perplexed look he’d don when deep in thought, desperately trying to push past his own feelings if it meant you were happy. You could imagine him going silent anytime he saw you and Danny together, the pain-ridden expression evident despite his attempts to hide it.

You could imagine it, but you certainly didn’t want it.

You sighed, still not able to make eye contact with the man in front of you. “I want you to move on someday. I need you to.”

Danny shook his head, immediately not accepting your plea. “No one is you, Bip.”

“Someday, Danny,” you insisted, tears threatening to slip once more. As sweet as he was, his response did little to appease you. The thought of him shying away from all affection from others, just for the chance to love you again, made you feel much more guilty. “It’s gonna be hard, I know. But you deserve to love again. Someone out there deserves the love that you showed me before all of this. It’s not fair to anyone if you torture yourself with being alone.”

A beat of silence.

Then another.

Then finally, a nod.

You hoped flashing a smile would help rid the tension in the air, but once you were finally able to look up at him, your expression faltered. His face was slightly contorted into a mix of confusion, pain, and acceptance. He wanted to understand, but he couldn’t face the idea of loving anyone other than you. It would take time.

“Thank you, Danny. For everything.”

You saw his head barely bob in response, his nodding almost unnoticeable because his thoughts distracting him. “I’m sorry I kissed you,” he whispered.

It was genuine, that much was obvious, but the apology made you laugh out loud. “Don’t be sorry. I’d be willing to argue and say it was the best one I’d ever gotten from you.”

The joke made him laugh as well, and you saw the nerves release from his body. “That’s a strong statement.”

“Arguably,” you quipped back.

You didn’t stay much longer after that. After catching up about little things, promising to hang out again soon, and hugging your goodbyes, you made your departure. Although you longed to come back to spend the day with Josh, you were slightly relieved that he wouldn’t be waiting for your return. It wasn’t often that you wished for the solace of a quiet home, but now, after rekindling the feelings and emotions that had been repressed after all this time, you knew you’d enjoy lying in bed. Alone.

You had just gotten settled under your comforter, cozy pajamas on (even if it was the middle of the day), before you sent Josh a quick text announcing your homecoming. You anticipated he’d respond later when he wasn’t as busy, but instead, your phone immediately began buzzing in your hands. You smiled as his cheery face lit up your screen before accepting the call.

“Hey, baby wh-”

“Hey, I can’t stay on here long but… you know I love you, right?”

His interruption caught you off-guard, and you picked up on the sense of urgency in his tone. The frantic nature was successful at inducing anxiety you were not prepared for. “Of course I know that.”

“And I’d do anything to keep you in my life?”

Now, you were worried. “Josh… what’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just… we’re okay, right?”

You smiled to yourself before answering. In some twisted way, his need for reassurance made you feel that much more loved. He treasured you as if you were his career, all of the wealth and precious valuables combined. He couldn’t lose you. “We’re perfect, Joshua. Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” He answered quickly. You noticed the volume of his voice fluctuating a bit, some of his words sounding more muffled than the others as he continued. “Yeah, no I’m fine. Danny just…”

He paused, and you picked up on movement on the other end of the call. He sighed to himself, this time sounding a little more sure of himself than before. “I got a text from him just a minute ago, and it scared me a little I guess. But if we’re okay, then I’m okay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, mind racing as to what he might’ve said to Josh that would worry him this much. Things had gone smoothly. Nothing really happened. You had reconciled with your best friend, received the apology you had been hoping for all this time, what could possibly-

The kiss.

Of course, it was something you’d talk to Josh about. You felt like he should know about it, even if there was nothing behind it. It was a seal. It served as the end to an era that you had loved in the past. You needed to tell him, though. You feared how he’d react otherwise. If Danny had already disclosed what happened, you were in for a completely different conversation.

You hesitated before you asked, your voice coming out weak and feeble. “What did the text say?”

There was noise in the background, and he paused to listen, a quiet response following. You imagined he was being rushed to get off the phone, and once you heard his voice again, you knew you had been correct. “Look, I gotta go, but I’ll send it to you and text you as soon as I can, alright? I love you so so much.”

You could almost hear the smile on his face once he heard you return the phrase. The sweet sound of a pleased hum, and the image of his rosy cheeks made you smile to yourself as the call ended. But the anxiety of what Danny could’ve possibly said to make him this worried… it was consuming you.

It wasn’t long before you felt your phone buzz again, showing that Josh had sent an image. And when you opened it, you scanned the contact name of who had sent the message in the screenshot, the name reading “Daniel.” And as you looked at the message in question, the one that had scared Josh so quickly, your eyes immediately began to water. Not out of sadness or anger, but of relief and reassurance.

The words weren't meant for you, which made them that much more meaningful. He didn't say it because he felt he had to, or because he felt as if Josh would turn around and tell you. He said it because he meant it.

Please tell her that you love her. She’s worth keeping around.

series taglist: @joshkiszkas @teenagesublimefan @streamsofstardust @fireandsaltydogs @gretavanflipflop @kdarling1 @greta-van-chaos @stardustingold @the-chaotic-cow @tripthelight-fanfic @gretavancreep @gretavanfleas @myownparadise96 @loofypoofy @hippievanfleet @doodle417 @gmolszewski @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @gretavanflowerpower @hearts-hunger @s0livagant @ageofeddie @jakeyboiiiiiii @jakeydoesit @fan-girl-97 @welightthefire @maedesculpaeusoubi @josiee-gvf @brokenbellz @sammysvanfeet @haleylovesgvf @streamingcolors-gvf @groggyvanfleet @prophetofthedune @aconfusedhippie @star-lightsundrop @sammyslappers @agirlwithmanytastes @teddiie @gretavansteph @sammiejane22 @safarithong @tearsofbri @ashabeannn @gvfvanfleet @Kerryxoliver @daniellefersblog @gretavanbitches @jordierama @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature @GardensGateDaisy @jmksbuttsupremacy

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lgg5989 · 2 years

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Church Encounters Chapter 17

Hey everyone! @barbiewritesstuff and I thank you so much for reading this fic and for following our progress with it! We hope you love this chapter because we really do :)

I am going on vacation tomorrow thru October 1st! We plan to take a hiatus during that time but will have a new chapter out for you all on October 4th. In the meantime, we would love to answer any asks about the fic or anything we have planned for future chapters!

I made the moodboard and you can find the other chapters posted to my Masterlist and Ao3. @barbiewritesstuff is posting this to her tumblr as well so jump over and give her a like and a follow if you haven’t already!

Tagging: @roosterscock @sydneyhlove

Jake’s hand had been killing him for a few days now, ever since your vigorous activities on Saturday night. He had gone to the med bay on base, and to his humiliation had to explain to the nurse how punching a wall had split one knuckle and bruised the rest. Not even the good Lord could save him from the blush that spread up his cheeks when the nurse realised that he had put his fist through the drywall during a rather pleasurable encounter with his wife.

“Well you haven’t broken anything Lieutenant Commander, but in the future I would try to…um…restrain yourself from fighting anymore drywall,” she said, a knowing smile on her face. She was a little older, probably around his mother’s age, and she almost teased him about how he was injured, something he found rather funny. The other nurses in the ward had been damn near fighting over who would get to attend to him, but she had picked the file off the stack and sent them scurrying away with a loud barrage of disappointed sighs.

“Yes, ma’am. Am I going to be grounded?” he asked, looking at her nervously. Their team had just been tasked with a new mission, and he didn’t want to risk sending them out without him.

“I don’t think so, just keep icing it like you have been and it’ll be good as new in about a week or so. I would advise against participating in any other strenuous activities for the next few weeks though, we wouldn’t want you to reinjure it,” she finished, handing him a cool ice pack to place on his hand.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jake said as he stood from the examination table giving her a small smile before exiting the office.

Pulling his phone out, he scrolled through the contacts until he came across Bob’s. Clicking the call button, he brought the phone up to his ear, waiting on Bob to pick up.

“Hello?” his voice said, sounding a bit out of breath.

“Hey,” Jake said, “I was wondering if I could have some help with something this weekend?” he asked.

“Sure, what’s up?” Bob asked, his words broken up by sharp pants.

“You good man?” Jake asked, concerned.

Bob let out a breathless laugh, “Yeah, Phoenix is kicking my ass, treadmill is at like a seven incline step.”

“Alright I’ll be quick then. I…um…I put a hole in the wall in my living room, and I’ve injured my hand…I need someone to help me patch it. Can you come by on Friday evening, say around dinnertime? Y/n’s making some kind of pasta dish, you can join us.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” Bob said, “Got to go.”

“Don’t let her beat you too bad Bobby,” Jake said, laughing a bit before hanging up the phone.

Friday night came sooner than Jake anticipated, and he had forgotten to stop and pick up the materials he and Bob were going to need to fix the wall. By the time he pulled his truck into the driveway, Bob’s Astra was parked on the street, and the sun was beginning to set.

Walking inside, he called out, “Sorry I’m late, I forgot to get the damn supplies to fix the wall.”

“That’s alright,” Bob called back, “Y/n is trying to teach me how to cook, I don’t know how well I’m doing.”

“You’re doing great,” you said with a smile, patting Bob on the back as he stood over the stove, “And how are you doing my dear, injured husband?” you inquired, stepping in front of Jake to take his lunch box and press a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m alright, hand is feeling less sore so that’s good,” he said, smiling down at you and brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“How did you injure your hand?” Bob asked from his place at the stove.

You tried to hold back your laugh as you watched Jake flounder at the question, “Well, I…um…I was coming in and tripped, yeah, I tripped and my hand went through the wall,” he said, unconvincingly.

Bob looked at Jake, took a step to look at the wall in question, and then looked back at Jake, “Suuuure you did,” he said with a laugh.

Jake could feel the embarrassed blush from earlier come over his face, and before he could restrain himself he said, “Hey, I can’t be held responsible for what my hot wife does to me.”

Bob let out a groan, “Never mind, I don’t want to know what happened. As far as I’m concerned you closed your hand in the door of your truck or something.”

The three of you had a nice dinner before Jake and Bob set about patching the wall. Jake looked on as Bob screwed in a small piece of wood before fitting in a new panel of drywall that they cut to fit the fist sized hole. Finally finishing it with some fast curing drywall putty, the men waited an hour before digging the can of paint from the basement and rolling a coat over the new section of wall. I looked great, and you couldn’t even tell where the hole had been.

“Damn Bob, you’re practically a professional,” Jake said, impressed at the WSO’s home project abilities.

“Yeah, I had a lot of practice,” Bob said, “I used to work a construction job in high school, making extra money for mom to use on groceries,” he let out a small laugh before continuing, “That’s actually where my callsign comes from, I’m Bob the builder,” he finished laughing at the surprised look that came over Jake’s face.

“So not Baby On Board then?” Jake asked him, his face red with laughter.

“Definitely not,” Bob replied, “Maybe one day though.”

“Bob, that's my sister you’re talking about!” Jake said, slapping the man on the back of the head with his good hand, “Besides, the two of you aren’t even married yet, you can’t be thinking shit like that.”

“Tell me you didn’t and I’ll stop,” Bob said, raising one eyebrow at Jake before looking back at the wall they just finished painting.

Jake let out a sigh, grumbling something under his breath as he turned around and picked up the gallon of paint, bringing it out to the garage. Bob just laughed, he was going to be in so much trouble if Jake ever found out how far he had toed the line with Maria.

---

Jake had been working on the room you had decided would be the nursery. The two of you had been talking about having a baby for a few months and with your family’s history of having trouble conceiving, you had decided to try sooner than originally planned, figuring that you were unlikely to get pregnant on the first go anyway.

You walked into the nursery, dressed in a casual jersey dress, feeling a little down.He stepped away from the crib he was putting together and pulled you into his arms, “Hello, maybe-momma.”

“Hi there, almost-daddy,” you said back, laughing a little at the different versions of future mom he had been calling you, “How’s it coming?”

“As well as expected, what man has ever read the directions,” he stated playfully, winking at you before pressing a kiss to your lips, “How about you? Any good news?”

You frowned, producing the pregnancy test from behind your back, “No, still negative.”

Jake pulled you to him in a hug, “It’ll happen baby, don’t worry. God will bless us when he thinks we are ready.”

You nodded, the disappointment still cutting deeply into your heart. It didn’t help that you had been feeling strange for weeks now, with a weird assortment of symptoms that you had tried to google. Doctor Internet was as unhelpful as ever, telling you there were only three possible causes for your sudden bouts of sickness: pregnancy, cancer, or the flu. You could scratch off pregnancy as every test you had taken came back negative, which left only two things on Google’s list and a few thousands on your own list of completely ordinary causes for your aches and pains.

“I think I need to see a dentist,” you said, “I keep tasting blood.”

“It could just be working out,” Jake offered, trying to ease your worries. He knew how much you hated the dentist and how much losing or damaging your teeth freaked you out.

Besides, they weren’t empty reassurances, it was well known that working out could cause a metallic taste in the mouth. Jake vaguely remembered his biology teacher explaining that a very high pressure of blood moving into a person’s lungs through their membranous tissues could make someone taste blood although he couldn’t for the life of him remember why. You had just started a new workout regimen, helped by Phoenix who was known amongst the squad for going hard at the gym. Your body simply wasn’t used to the new intensity.

You nodded, ready to accept that as the answer when the alternative was so frightening to you.

“Or,” Jake said carefully, not wanting to hurt you any more than necessary, “It could be your monthlies…”

You sighed, on the verge of tears. Jake knew how much you had come to dread it, but it was undeniably going to happen at some point.

“I know honey,” he said, pulling you close to him in a comforting hug, “But we can’t deny it, yeah? You’ve been having hot flushes, you feel dizzy, you’ve been… emotional,” he explained

“And sleepy,” you added, nuzzling into his chest in the hopes that the fabric of his shirt would sponge up any tears should they fall, “You’re probably right,” you whispered, “It’s just periods.”

“I’m sorry honey,”

“No, it’s fine. We expected this. We knew it would take a while,” you replied, rubbing your eyes and giving him a sad smile, “The Lord will bless us when we’re ready,” you repeated back to him, patting his chest before turning around and leaving for the kitchen.

You dropped a pod of Jake’s favourite coffee into the machine and pressed pour, fitting a large mug underneath the spout. Jake was right, periods would explain a lot of your symptoms but there were a couple you just couldn’t explain away. You couldn’t for the life of you find a satisfactory explanation as to why you were always so damn itchy, or why you suddenly got so clumsy, or why you kept getting nosebleeds, or even why you were getting strangely vivid dreams. But strangest of them all was your sudden and very acute disgust at the mere concept of coffee.

---

Lizzie: You free next week? Beau is taking the kids out and we need to catch up. I want to see the pictures from your honeymoon.

Jake’s out of the house next Saturday, I can make lunch? You texted back, excited at the prospect of seeing Elisabeth again.

You had seen Beau at work since your return but his wife had remained elusive. She was always so busy running around taking care of the kids, organising meal trains for people around the parish and otherwise volunteering her services as a birth doula to mothers who couldn’t afford it.

Lizzie: Perfect! Looking forward to it!

You immediately set to work, leaving the house to buy ingredients. When you came home an hour later you placed a pot on the hob, tipping in two litres of water and adding salt, sugar, saltpetre, a cinnamon stick, mustard seeds, peppercorns, cloves, allspice, juniper berries, bay leaves and ginger. You let it cook on high until the sugar dissolved, then, you removed it from the heat and stirred in some ice before checking the temperature. Once at the desired 7C, you placed your two kilo beef brisket into a bag and filled it with the brine, covering the meat, sealing it well and putting it into the refrigerator where it would stay for the next ten days.

Once Saturday came around you removed the brisket from the bag and rinsed it under cool water. You placed it into a large pot, adding onions, carrots and celery and covered with water. After boiling it, you reduced the temperature from high to low and left it to simmer for three hours.

You cut a few slices to test, making them thin enough to place on Jake’s sandwich which you packed in a lunchbox and set aside for him to take on his trip. He was joining his fellow Youth Ministers for a weekend in Joshua Tree National Park, requested by Freddie and Matt in an effort to bond more as a team. Jake was less than enthused by the idea, not keen to leave you home alone when you had been feeling ill for so long.

He ran around the house trying to pack, taking more breaks than necessary to check his phone, drink some coffee and kiss your cheeks as you cooked. Eventually, he could no longer delay his departure and was forced to bring the bags to his truck, forcing the guitar into the passenger seat and unceremoniously dumping the duffel bag into the truck bed.

“Honey?” Jake called from the kitchen, after remembering he’d bought some snacks for the trip. You hummed from the sofa where you were sat reading your bible, acknowledging that you had heard him, “Honey, why do we have pickles?” he asked, holding up the jar to show you.

“I don’t know, I saw them at the shop and they looked good,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders.

Jake hesitated, “Sweetheart, I thought you didn’t like pickles?”

“I know but -- I don’t know, I’ve been craving them… I made you a sandwich! It’s on the table” you said, pointing towards the blue lunchbox on the kitchen table. Jake picked it up and lifted the lid, “It was supposed to be a reuben sandwich, but I swapped out the sauerkraut for pickles,” you explained.

“Thank you, honey,” Jake said, picking up the lunchbox before making his way to you.

“You have to go now though, or you’ll be late,” you chastised him.

“Yes, that would truly be a shame, wouldn’t it… It’s weird, I suddenly don’t feel so good anymore, do you think I could stay home?” he asked, making a pouting face and pulling his collar away from his neck.

“No,” you laughed, “Go! It’ll be fun.”

Jake snorted, “Says the woman who doesn’t have to share a cabin with Henry Greuvel, the loudest snorer this side of the equator.”

“It’s only for one night!” you giggled, pushing him towards the door.

“Fine, but text me, okay? I wanna know how you’re feeling. If it doesn’t get better by Monday, I’ll take you to the doctor’s,” Jake said, he leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead and when you looked up at him, he kissed your lips too, “Have fun at church. I love you, see you tomorrow evening!” he shouted as he walked out of the house.

An hour later, with Elisabeth’s arrival imminent, you got up from your seat and walked to the kitchen again where you switched on the kettle and prepped a mug with a homemade anti-nausea ginger and lemon tea bag. You poured the water in as soon as the kettle clicked and drank a few sips before pulling the ingredients for a russian dressing out of the fridge. You spread the mixture generously on two large slices of toasted rye bread, adding a few thin slices of still warm brisket, as much cheese as you could cram on and topping it all with a large helping of sauerkraut before closing the sandwich with another slice of bread. You had just plated it all when the doorbell rang.

“Oh goodness, it smells amazing!”

“It’s ready to serve,” you laughed,

“Good, because I am starving!” she said, walking into the living room where you had dressed the dining table and put the plates, “It is so nice not to have to cook for once,”

“Dad doesn’t cook?” you asked, sounding confused.

Elisabeth scoffed, “Beau isn’t allowed to cook.”

You looked at her, concern written on your face, “He’s not bad, I’ve had his homemade pizza before.”

“And therein lies the problem, my dear, it’s better than mine! I can’t take that kind of defeat,” she said with a wink.

You walked back to the kitchen, picking up the pickle jar that Jake hadn’t placed back in the cupboard, and relieved for once as you had started to feel a little dizzy and didn’t feel confident about reaching for the highest shelf. You carried it back to the dining table and twisted the lid open, picking two long slices of pickled cucumber and placing them on top of your open sandwich.

“I thought you didn’t like pickles?” Elisabeth remarked.

“I think they’re growing on me,” you replied with a small smile.

The sandwich was delicious. You had never tried that recipe before but with each bite it earned itself a higher spot on the leaderboard of all your favourite dishes. You collected the plates and placed them in the sink, running some water over them before walking back to the coffee pot.

“Would you like a cup of coffee Liz?” you asked her from across the kitchen.

There was a moment’s pause before she answered, “That sounds great, maybe with a splash of milk?”

Before even approaching the coffee pot, you popped a ginger candy into your mouth, taking a few good swallows of the sweet ginger flavour before approaching the pot with a mug ready. You poured the coffee into the mug and stirred in a little milk with minimal gagging before bringing the cup to Elisabeth.

“Here we are,” you said, placing it down in front of her.

“Aren’t you going to have one too?” she asked, looking at you confused.

You grimaced, “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you said, “The smell of coffee recently has been making me nauseous.”

“Are you…” she asked, an excited smile growing on her face. It fell almost immediately when she saw you grow sad.

“No, women in my family have a history of struggles when it comes to conceiving. We’ve started trying but as much as we want it to happen, we know it’s unlikely to happen right now,” you explained, “The waiting is agony though,” you added.

Elisabeth nodded. You stayed quiet for a moment while she seemed to be thinking of something.

“Beau and I struggled too. We had Peter without an issue but Matthew was a little harder, then when we went to the doctor’s to see if we could have a third, they told us it was unlikely we’d conceive again. We were heartbroken but we held on to the fact that they said it was unlikely, not impossible. We tried for years after that and nothing happened, so we gave up. It was a really dark time in our lives, we stopped going to church, I quit my job, and Beau and I seemed to fight every other night,” she said, pausing for a moment,

“And then one night, I was packing up our shrine to throw most of it away when I knocked something off of a shelf. I don’t know, maybe it was coincidence, or maybe it was the Lord trying to show us the way, but I had knocked Peter’s bible down to the floor and it opened on Luke Chapter one. The first thing I saw was, oh I remember it as though it happened an hour ago,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes,

“The first thing I saw was ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John.’ I called Beau immediately, even though he was playing baseball with buddies, and I told him to get his ass home because we were going to church,” she laughed, “He didn’t argue, even though I never told him about the verse or the Bible. And two months after that I went to the doctor’s for some unrelated health issues, and they told me I was pregnant. I was convinced we’d have a boy, obviously, and we were going to call him John. But then the three little ladies arrived and Beau asked me if we could name one ‘Joanna’, he said he didn’t know why but he felt it was right to use that name, as if he was fulfilling his end of a promise.”

You looked at Elizabeth for a moment, unable to think of what to say. She placed her hands on yours, gently squeezing, “All I’m saying is the Lord provides, but He does so in His own time and for His own reasons. We can’t understand them, nor should we want to but we can trust Him. And I trust He will bless you with your own bundle of joy soon, but in the meantime, you must listen when He tells you things about yourself and your life, even if they’re things you would rather not hear. While Beau and I waited to be blessed again, I ignored when the Lord tried to tell me I was impatient, quick to anger and jealous, I blamed others when I should have looked at myself. Instead of laying my worries and anxieties on God, I tried to deal with them myself, and if I had just left my heart open to His guidance, I could have let all that go sooner. And since I have, I have been a better wife, and a much better mother,” she finished.

You had often looked to Elisabeth for help and guidance when you had trouble hearing the Lord, and you valued her experience immensely. You were so relieved to finally be able to talk to Lizzie and air your worries, the experience only somewhat marred as your head kept spinning and you felt a little dizzy.

“You okay?” She asked, as a hot flush washed over you and you felt the colour drain from your face as soon as it departed.

“I feel funny,” you replied, your speech slurred by the speed at which the room had started spinning

Elisabeth grabbed a hold of your arm to ground you, “Hey, don’t faint on me, sweetheart,” she said, “Have you had much to eat today?”

You shook your head, instantly regretting it as it made your head spin faster. You felt Elisabeth move and you grabbed the edge of the table in an effort to keep yourself upright.

“You need sugar,” Elisabeth said, standing up to look through your cupboards.

“I have some in the pantry,” you told her, dropping your head down into your hands in an effort to stay conscious. Lizzie jogged down the corridor and came back into the room with a bag of sugar. She dumped two large tea spoons into a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Drink, you’ll feel better,” she said, moving the cup closer to you. The smell overpowered your senses and you stood, trying to escape or at least turn away as your stomach lurched, but you didn’t have the time to be sick because as soon as you stood, your vision faded to black and you hit the floor with a heavy thud.

When you came to, Elisabeth was kneeling beside you, fanning your face with a notepad she had found somewhere, “Y/n can you hear me? Are you okay?” she asked, you tried to get off of the floor but she stopped you with her hand, “Take it easy.”

“It’s okay, it’s happened a few times, I’ll be fine,” you said, placing a hand on the coffee table and trying to pull yourself up.

Elisabeth stopped you again, “A few times?! And Jake leaves you home alone like that?”

“No, I -- I haven’t told him. It’s nothing, just my periods,” you mumbled out, suddenly feeling a bit stupid for not telling him.

“Y/n, this isn’t normal. You need to see a doctor,” Elisabeth said, pulling you up and sitting you carefully on the couch before getting her purse from the door, fishing her car keys out of the side pocket.

You let out a sigh, “Liz --”

“Do not make me play the ‘mom’-card, Y/n. Do as you’re told,” she said sternly, using the same tone of voice that she used whenever she needed to make Beau do something he didn’t want to do.

---

The ride to urgent care was short and tense, Lizzie looking over at you every couple of seconds to make sure that you were still okay.

“I’m fine Liz, I’m not going to keel over,” you said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She sighed, “You might not keel over but that doesn’t mean I’m not still worried about you.”

You sighed, looking at the grey building that appeared in front of you as Liz pulled into the parking lot. She had an arm wrapped around you as she walked you inside and you checked in at the desk.

When the nurse called you back and brought you into a room, she asked you the routine questions: Have you been in before? Do you have a fever? Are you pregnant?. At the end of their questioning, you sat thinking about the last time you had a period, you’d been having all the usual symptoms but it hadn’t started yet.

The nurse left, telling you the doctor would be in soon, leaving you and Liz in a comfortable silence. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and a short woman walked in.

“Mrs. Seresin?” she asked, looking at you sitting on the table.

“Yes, that’s me,” you said, smiling a little at your still fairly new title.

She nodded, coming to stand in front of you to do a basic examination, “I am Dr. Fielding, is there anything specific bothering you today?”

You explained the situation as she examined you and when she was done, and once she had looked over your chart, she said, “I think we need to do a blood test, you have been fainting recently and with the other strange behaviours I would hate to miss something, otherwise, physically, you seem fine.”

“Alright,” you agreed, “Whatever it takes.”

She nodded at you before leaving the room, “Nurse Amy will be back in soon to do the draw and we should have the results back in about an hour for you.”

Once your blood was drawn you and Lizzie settled into the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. After only thirty minutes, you were called back into the exam room, Dr. Fielding waiting for you.

“Mrs. Seresin, I am happy to tell you that you are pregnant, the blood work shows elevated amounts of HCG hormones indicating pregnancy. If I had to guess you are only a few weeks along,” she said, a small smile on your face.

You felt the world rock, and you were half convinced that there was an earthquake and no one else knew it. The first thing you wanted to do was call Jake, the thought of telling him exciting you and scaring you at the same time. What if he wasn’t happy that you were going to be having a baby so soon? What if he was excited? Then your mind wandered to his family, and how good he was with kids, and your heart stopped in your chest. What if you wouldn’t be a good mom? Jake had wonderful parents to look up to and yours were dead, and a shitty parent at best. What if you were no good? What if– your thoughts were cut off by the doctor speaking.

“This is a list of recommended prenatal vitamins for you to start taking and I would make an appointment with your gynaecologist or an OBGYN for a better estimate of the development of your baby,” she finished, “I’ll have Amy check you and you you should be good to leave, make sure you keep that blood sugar up.”

The next half hour felt like it passed you in a daze, Lizzie was excited for you and she chatted animatedly to you the whole ride home. Once she helped you inside and made sure you were settled in, she asked, “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No that’s alright, I think I’m going to call Jake,” you said, trying to put a smile on your face for her benefit.

“Alright dear, well it was wonderful to see you, and I am so happy for you and Jake!” her excitement causing you to smile for a moment longer before you see her out.

As you close the door you called out after her, “Oh Liz?”

“Yeah?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“Will you keep this a secret from Beau for a bit? I want to tell him my own way,” you requested, hoping she would agree.

She smiled brightly, a devious look in her eye at the thought of surprising her husband, “Oh of course! I wouldn’t want to take that moment from you. Let me know if you need any help planning anything okay?”

“Okay, I will. Drive safe!” you called out before stepping inside and closing the door.

Once it was shut you pulled out your phone and wrapped your now shaking frame in the throw blanket that you kept out on the couch. You clicked on Jake’s contact, the icon saved to your home screen under Hubby. You paced in front of the windows of your living room a few times before pressing the call button.

When you pressed call, it didn’t even ring before being sent to voicemail. Your heart hurt, and tears sprung into your eyes. He probably didn’t have a signal and he didn’t expect you to be pregnant, but there was something inside you that screamed Why didn’t he pick up the phone? Does he know? How could he possibly know? Maybe he- you shook your head, trying to block out the intrusive thoughts that were trying to take over your mind. You tapped on Annie’s number in your contacts, hoping she’d answer. The phone rang three times before finally clicking through, “Hello?” she spoke into the receiver

“Hey, how are you?” you asked. Now that you had made contact, telling her suddenly seemed like a monumentally terrible idea.

“Err, I’m okay, I’m working,” your sister replied, clearly unsettled. You never usually called during the weekend, and certainly not while she was working. The last time anyone had done that it had been to tell her about the passing of your grandmother, “Is everything okay?” she asked, worry laced in her voice.

You couldn’t back out now, you had to tell her, because she’d never buy that you wanted to catch up and quite frankly, you weren’t sure you would be able to keep yourself from crying much longer.

“Are you okay?” she asked again, apologising as she made her way through the throngs of children she had been supervising during afternoon garden playtime and into a more private area where she no longer had to strain her ears to listen to you. You heard a door shut behind her and suddenly the ambient noise of the garden, the children and the blowing wind disappeared, much to your relief, you hadn’t realised how much the sound of kids had been making you feel worse.

“I’m okay,” you lied, “I’m pregnant!” you tried to sound excited, but tears bubbled in your throat and your voice came out wobbly and uncertain.

“Oh my goodness! That’s amazing!” she screamed, “I’m so excited! Does Jake know? Ooh! Are you going to do one of those cute Pinterest reveals? Oh my god this is going to be so great! You HAVE to film it and send it to me, I want to see his face! How far along are you? Are you--”

“ANNIE!” you snapped, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -- I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, your legs buckling underneath you and dropping you onto the floor with a painful crack of your knees.

“Is there something wrong with the baby?” she asked. You could practically see her standing there in front of you, one hand clasped in front of her mouth, a horrified expression on her face, it made you feel so much worse.

“No,” you whispered, “There’s something wrong with me.”

“What do you mean? Do you need me to fly over? Is Jake with you?” she asked, her words coming out in a panicked rush, and you could hear her rustling around in the background of the call.

“Annie, what if I turn out like mum?” you said, “What if I hate them? What if something happens to Jake and I turn out like her?”

Annie was quiet for a second, “Honey, that’s never going to happen,” she whispered into the receiver, “It’ll never happen because if anything happens to my niece or nephew I will come down to California and kill you,” she joked, eliciting a watery laugh from you.

“In all seriousness, Y/n, I think you’re going to be an amazing mom. You’re kind, you’re caring, you’re gentle, and most importantly, you’re willing. This is what you have wanted since you were old enough to understand, mom… Mom became a mom because she thought that was what the world wanted. She had us to become the picture perfect family and when dad died, she couldn’t be bothered with keeping up appearances,” she said, “You wouldn’t know, because we don’t really talk about this, but when dad died, mom didn’t get any worse. The only thing that changed was that she didn’t talk to us anymore. Before then, dad took care of us, brought us to school and helped us with the homework. Her contribution as a parent extended to showing up at PTA meetings, dressing us all nice for school pictures and dishing up punishment whenever she thought we needed it. Mom was never good.”

“What if I find out it’s not what I wanted? What if I hold my baby and I look at it and I realise I made all the good bits up?” you sobbed

“Oh you will. You’ll hold the crying kid in your arms and your ears will ring and you’ll be desperate for sleep and you’ll wonder why on earth you even made the nugget. And then it’ll say ‘mamma’ and it’ll waddle over to you, or wave or smile for the first time, it’ll give you their first drawing and you’ll get it, even if the drawing is terrible, or they fall and hit their head and cry some more. Y/n, every season in life will have regrets, you can’t always be happy. You won’t get everything you want, and that’s good, because if you did you wouldn’t appreciate life as much as you do. Let me put it in terms you understand,” she chuckled, “If humans were awake and energetic all the time, we’d never have invented coffee.”

You laughed a little, “Promise me that if I ever fail at being a mom, you’ll be on the next plane over,” you said, growing a little more serious.

“Pinky promise. If you fail at being a mom, I will personally come and set your head straight. But I won’t need to, because if you were going to fail at being a mom, you wouldn’t have called. And if you were going to fail at being a mom, you wouldn’t have spent so much of your life trying not to be like mom,” she said, “I take it you haven’t told Jake?”

“No, I tried calling but he’s spending the weekend with youth ministry leaders and they’re in Joshua Tree with horrible cell service,” you explained

“Don’t forget he’s there too, yeah? He wants this as much as you and I’m sure he’ll have his own little freakout about being a good dad, so when the time comes, let him. Let him figure things out, let him have a couple of firsts, both good and bad. I know it’ll be hard, but you have nine months more than he does to bond with baby, so let him catch up a little. And he’ll fuck up, just like you will, but if you’re going to expect him to help shoulder all the burdens, he’s gotta go through the learning process too,” she said, “Speaking of learning process, having kids doesn’t come with a manual, but I’ve been a preschool teacher for ten years, so if you have a question, I’m here. And I’ll give you a little more free advice: pray. For the good things, the bad things, for everything. And read the bible, too. I think Proverbs 31 gives you a good blueprint on how to be,” she finished.

You walked up to your shrine and opened up your bible to the book of Proverbs and turned the pages till you hit Proverbs 31, you read through the entire verse twice, your eyes flicking down to the end. "Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.’"

““Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death,” you whispered, putting your phone away after hanging up, “Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for me so that I may be the mother my children need. Pray for me so that my children may rise up and call me blessed.”

—

Jake knelt down on the uncomfortable floor of the wooden cabin, the badly hammered nails digging into his legs. He leaned against the bed, hoping to alleviate some of the pain and brought his hands together in front of his head.

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our tresspasses, as we forgive those who have trespassed against us, and Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from Evil,” Jake spoke, his voice echoed by Henry, doing the same behind him.

He lowered his voice, wanting privacy for the next bit, “Father, I thank you for the opportunities you have given me. Thank you for the people you have brought into my life and thank you for the people you have taken out. Thank you for creating the people I love and for the people I dislike too, I hope all who deserve it feel Your love and obey Your Will. Please keep Y/n safe and healthy. She hasn’t been feeling well these past few weeks, and I worry about her. Please keep Bob, Maria, my team and my parents and friends in your thoughts too,” Jake whispered,

“I confess, Father, that I have been impatient. I know You will Bless us when we are ready but waiting has been torture, I find myself unable to think about anything other than having a little one of our own and how much happiness it would bring us. I ask that you help me remember Romans 8:25: "But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." when times become hard,” he continued.

“Lord, I pray that you might guide me, and help me use the gifts you have given me. You know what I need and what I want, Father, and I pray my life may be filled with some of both. Amen,” he finished, using the bed to stand up, rubbing his knees free of the bumps and dips caused by the rough floor of the cabin.

He climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up to his chest, feeling cramped and claustrophobic on the tiny single bed and terribly lonely without you laying right beside him. He had been tired when the evening had come to a close but now that he was there, sleep wouldn’t come. He seemed to be the only one suffering from insomnia, though, as Henry had begun snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow, causing Jake to wonder how park rangers hadn’t already been called for breaking the 60 decibel noise ordinance.

He tossed and turned for twenty more minutes, the words he had prayed reverberating in his head so loud that he was getting a headache and finally harmonising with Henry so perfectly that it was slowly driving him insane.

Unable to take it any longer, Jake stood up and went for a walk. Walking along the main trail until he hit a fork in the road. He had taken this road not even an hour ago, but they had taken flashlights then and Jake had forgotten his phone, in the moonlight, he was entirely incapable of remembering which way to take. He concentrated, trying to hear the gentle noises of the river they had eaten next to but he couldn’t find it in the ambient noise of the forest, moving with the breeze. Then, carried by the wind, the sound of a quiet melody came through from his right. Throwing all caution to the wind, Jake took that path and walked down until he hit a small clearing.

The bonfire they had made was still going strong, and in the flickering light of the flames, Bob carefully strummed the chords of Jake’s guitar. Seeing him standing there in the shadow of the trees, Bob stopped.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he called out.

Jake shook his head, “Thinking too loud,” he confessed.

“You’re bunking with Henry and your thoughts are too loud? My, you must really be worried,” Bob chuckled.

“Not worried,” Jake replied, “Okay maybe a little worried,” he admitted, “We’re trying for a baby.”

“I thought you were going to wait a while?” Bob asked, bending over the guitar’s neck to fiddle with the strings, pretending to be doing something to avoid making Jake uncomfortable. He had been his friend long enough to know that showing any emotion except happiness made him intensely uncomfortable, and that Jake seemed to have an easier time talking when Bob pretended not to be listening.

“There’s a history of difficulties with conceiving in Y/n’s family, we figured we’d start trying now, you know… In case it takes a while,” Jake said, his eyes trained on the fire.

“Ah,” Bob said, “That’s fair. How’s Y/n feeling about it?”

“Well, it’s been two months and we’re both feeling pretty impatient,” he replied, “It’s hard to just … let things happen.. You know?”

“I know,” Bob agreed, leaning back behind him to fish two sodas out of the cooler and giving one to Jake, “I was feeling the same about meeting someone before Maria,” he admitted.

Jake sighed heavily before continuing, “And I’m honestly scared shitless that once we have a kid, we’ll -- I’ll fuck shit up.”

“If it makes you feel better, the Lord seems pretty forgiving about that,” Bob said, trying to add the shame and the sound of his thumping heart with a nervous chuckle.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked, looking up at Bob, his voice laced with concern, “You haven’t fucked anything up with Maria, I had her on the phone like, this week, she seemed fine.”

“I fucked up,” Bob replied, “We fucked up,” he added, his voice low enough that it could have been covered up by the crackle of the roaring fire.

“Floyd, what did you do?” Jake asked, his voice almost as threatening as it had been the night of the bar fight.

“I…nothing, nevermind,” Bob tried, taking a sip of the Sprite he had pulled from the cooler.

Jake let out a laugh, “It’s too late for that Bobby-boy, tell me what you did.”

“I don’t know man, you are her brother, I don’t need to get the shit beat out of me on a Church retreat…” Bob said, his voice trailing off on the last word.

“Should have fucking thought of that before doing anything to my sister,” Jake said, the threat of bodily harm evident in the tone of his voice.

“Hey, hey, hey! I didn’t do anything she didn’t ask me to do, okay,” Bob exclaimed in outrage at the accusation, “This fuck up is on both of us!”

Jake heaved out a large sigh before demanding, “Last time. What. Did. You. Do?”

“Nothing… -- We didn’t sleep together,” Bob said nervously, his hands gesturing wildly in front of him, “Qualifies as heavy petting at most.”

Jake grabbed the collar of his shirt, standing up and lifting Bob up with him. For an agonising minute, Bob thought Jake might punch him but as soon as Jake had lifted up a fist, he had lowered it again, “I can’t really say anything, just -- just take care of her, you know, and keep the rest of it for the wedding night.”

“I take it y’all did the same?” Bob asked, one hand coming up to run through his hair as Jake let him go and stepped back.

“Absolutely not,” Jake replied, his voice sounding final.

Bob winced at the tone, “I didn’t mean to --”

“Got so close though,” Jake chuckled, “And I was the one to stop it, if you’ll believe that.”

Letting out a laugh Bob replied, “Now you’re just making things up.”

“You wound me,” Jake said, raising a hand up to his pec, looking down at it like he was trying to keep himself from bleeding out, “Look at me, wounded,” he joked.

“So you’re not mad?” Bob asked, his voice nervous.

“I never said that, but I don’t get to judge,” Jake replied, “Not my job. And if He forgives you for it then there’s no reason I shouldn’t either.”

Bob nodded, staring at the bonfire’s dying flames, “Pray for me and I’ll pray for you?” he offered, “For the baby, I mean.”

“Now?” Jake asked.

Bob shrugged, “Seems as good a time as any…” he said, “I’ll start if you want?”

Jake shook his head, “I think I know the right way to start,” he said. Jake took a deep breath, pausing for a second to gather himself, looking up at Bob, he started into one of his favourite prayers, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death,” he paused, waiting to see if Bob would take it from there.

“Holy Mary we pray to you today so the Lord may bless Jake and Y/n with the child they desperately want, and that when the time comes and they fall pregnant, that Y/n may be healthy and enjoy every minute of the nine months their blessing will take to arrive. I pray Saint Joseph guides Jake along the path of Fatherhood, and that you, Saint Mary, help Y/n become the mother the child needs and that she would have liked as a girl. I hope the child is healthy and happy, that they learn to follow the Word and that they never stray far from His teachings,” he said, then, stealing a side glance at Jake, he added, “I also pray that Jake and Y/n learn to be more patient, and listen to Galatians 6:9, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time --” Bob began, his retelling of the verse rudely interrupted by a sharp slap to the back of his head.

“You’re a prick,” Jake said before adding, “Mother, Mary, please watch over Bob and Maria, and remind them of Romans 8:25, “But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

Bob let out a laugh, “I’m the prick?” he asked, before concluding the prayer, “Please guide us both closer to your immaculate self, and let our actions honour God’s will. Amen.”

“Amen,” Jake said a second later.

“Well that was interesting,” Bob said with a laugh.

Jake rolled his eyes, “You are the biggest shit stirrer I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Bob said with a smile, “Soon I’ll be your family too, no way of getting rid of me now.”

“I don’t know, I think I could probably bury you out here somewhere, help Maria move on with….Coyote, yeah Coyote,” Jake said, one brow raised.

Bob let out a nervous laugh, the colour draining from his face, “You wouldn’t,” he said, his tone contradicting his words.

Jake just let out a deep laugh, almost falling off the log he was sitting on, “You’re right, I wouldn’t. But that has more to do with the fact that Maria scares me than my self control.”

Bob nodded, a smile cracking over his face, “She is a little scary, isn’t she?”

“When she wants to be,” Jake said, “But who do you think taught her that?”

“It wasn’t you Bagman,” Bob said with a laugh, “I believe wholeheartedly that it was your mom.”

“You might be right there, she and Nonna have this way about them,” Jake said, shivering slightly at the thought of his mom and grandma’s abilities to scare people.

Checking his watch, he realised the time, “Well Bobby, we should probably get back to bed.”

Bob nodded, “Yeah, you gonna be able to sleep?”

“Probably not, but that’s what the coffee is for right?” Jake asked, a tired smile on his face.

Bob just nodded, “It’ll give you practice for when the baby you’re trying for comes along.”

Jake just laughed as the two of them stood up and made their way back to the cabins in a comfortable silence.

—

It started about twenty-five miles outside of Joshua Tree, the ringing. Jake and Bob’s phones were blowing up with notifications all at once. Things they hadn’t seen all weekend due to their lack of service.

Bob picked up his phone, scrolling through the notifications, “Um..Jake?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said, glancing over at him, “What’s up?” he asked, upon seeing the concerned look on Bob’s face.

“There’s an email here, titled, ‘Father John’s Funeral Arrangements’,” he said, sounding confused, “And I have ten missed calls from Cheryl, you know the Church’s scheduling secretary?”

“Are you…Are you serious?” he asked, his attention now solely focused on Bob.

“Jake, watch the road!” Bob shouted, and Jake cussed as he looked forward and saw a line of stopped traffic, slamming on the brakes and steering the truck off onto the sandy shoulder, he just missed the minivan in front of him.

Bob looked at him concerned, “You good man?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?” Jake asked, making sure that the rough stop didn’t cause any damage to any of the cars around him.

“I’m alright, I think we need to stay here a minute though, call the church,” Bob said quietly.

Jake just nodded, he and Father John weren’t the closest but he did think that the man was a damn good priest. He heard Bob talking to who he assumed was Cheryl on the phone as he watched Henry’s truck pull up behind him, the man got out and walked to Jake’s window.

Just as Jake rolled it down, Bob hung up the phone.

“You boys alright?” Henry asked, “I know you’ve got a new wife Jake but really shouldn’t be on the phone and driving.”

“I wasn’t,” Jake answered, a little offended that the man thought so little of him. Before he could defend himself further, Bob cut in, “Father John passed away last night,” he said quietly.

“What?” Henry asked, his eyes growing large as he looked between Bob and Jake.

“We got emails about it, you’re on them too,” Jake said, grabbing his own phone from the console, he unlocked it to see that you had called him several times and left several messages. There were about a hundred unopened notifications, twenty of them from you.

He closed his eyes, rubbing his head with his baseball cap before placing it snugly back on. Bob and Henry were talking and the rest of the men were probably wondering what was happening, “Alright,” Jake said, interrupting the conversation, “Let’s get home, there’s nothing we can do for anyone stuck three hours away with limited phone service, right?”

Bob nodded, “He’s right Henry, Cheryl said that they were following Father John’s wishes and that one of the other priests from our sister church would cover masses until a replacement can be assigned by the diocese.”

Henry let out a strangled sigh, “You’re right, let’s get home.”

Jake rolled up his window and merged back into traffic, his phone still in his hand, all the messages from you were increasingly more concerning.

Saturday 12-noon

Mine <3: Jake, call me when you can.

Mine <3: It’s important.

Saturday 1 PM

Mine <3: I don’t know what to do, I need to talk to you.

Saturday 3PM

Mine <3: Not being able to tell you this is making me feel sick.

Mine <3: Please call when you are able.

Saturday 10PM

Mine <3: Jake, where are you?

Mine <3: I need to get you a sat phone next time.

Saturday 12-midnight

Mine <3: Please call me soon.

Mine <3: I don’t want you to hear this from anyone else.

Sunday 8AM

Mine <3: No mass this morning

Mine <3: When you get back into range you will know why

Mine <3: Call me when you can.

Jake didn’t know what to do, when he tried to call, his phone said it didn’t have enough service. The messages weren’t much more descriptive than the texts, just saying that the two of you needed to talk and that you had news.

He drove on, him and Bob sitting in a tense silence, by the time they had service again, Jake’s nerves were fried. He hit the call button on your contact as soon as he was able and had the phone pressed to his ear, “Come on baby, pick up, pick up, pick up…” he said under his breath. Jake could feel Bob’s eyes on him, but he didn’t care if his friend heard the call, he just had to know that your messages were about what he thought they were and not something to do with you.

Finally, on the fourth ring, you picked up the phone. Glancing at the dash, Jake realised that you had probably gone back to sleep after the eight o’clock messages, considering it was only eleven now.

“Jake?” you asked, your voice a little rough from disuse.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Jake asked, “I got all of your messages, and a few more. We know about Father John,” he rushed out, “What did you need to talk to me about?”

He heard you take a deep breath on the other side of the line and there was only a moment’s hesitation before you answered, “Oh, that was it. I just wanted to spare you from finding out from someone else is all,” you said.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Jake asked, “It sounded like there was something else. Have you been to the doctor?”

Another pause before, “No that’s it. I made an appointment for this week,” you said in reply.

“Okay, we are on our way back. I’ll be home in a few hours,” he said, still not totally convinced there wasn’t something else wrong.

“I’ll see you then, do you and Bob want me to make you something for lunch?” you asked, hoping a change in conversation would help distract him from your earlier panicked text messages.

“Sure, anything you want to make would be great,” he replied, “See you soon honey.”

“I love you,” he heard you say softly.

Jake’s mouth quirked up in a small smile, “I love you too.”

A second after he hung up the phone, Bob asked, “Everything alright?”

“I think so,” he replied, “I don’t know, she seemed like she was hiding something but I’m not sure what it would be. She has been acting strange recently.”

“Are you sure she isn’t pregnant?” Bob asked, trying to lighten the mood some.

Jake shrugged, trying to put the pieces together, “If that’s all it is, I’m going to be the happiest man in the world.”

Bob nodded, “I’m sure she is fine, you’ll know when you get home anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe she is just waiting to tell me when I get home,” Jake agreed, feeling a little lighter even though his mood was thoroughly soured by the passing of their church’s most trusted guide.

---

You were sitting in Jake’s truck, waiting for him to come back out of the house. He had been on edge ever since he had received the news about Father John, with his mission coming up at work and you being ‘ill’ he had a lot on his plate. He rushed out of the house, his tie held in his hand, and a few notecards almost falling out of his pocket. He climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck and put it into gear, backing out of the driveway and almost taking out your mailbox in his hurry.

“Jake!” you chastised, “We are only running a few minutes late and we are still an hour early for the funeral. It’s going to be alright,” you said, taking his hand in yours across the console and gently prying the tie from his grip. “Take a deep breath,” you tried, squeezing his hand in yours.

He glanced over at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You raised an eyebrow at him, rubbing one thumb over the back of his hand, he turned his attention back to the road for a moment before looking back at you. He took a deep breath, pushing it out and you felt his hand relax in yours.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes now focused on the road, “I’ve been a bit of an ass haven’t I?” he asked, his mind wandering back through the events of the morning. You hadn’t been feeling well and laid in bed much later than usual. When you struggled out of bed to make breakfast, against Jake’s insistence that he could do it, you had gotten sick at the smell of his coffee. Then Bob called and said that the florist had not yet delivered the flowers from the parish to Father John’s funeral service, then Decan Dan had called him and asked if Jake could give a short eulogy. With the mission coming up and all of the other things piled up on top, Jake hadn’t been in a good mood at all today. He took another deep breath, risking a glance over at you to see if you were mad, he had been rather short with you earlier.

“It’s alright, you are under a lot of stress right now,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile. While you loved him dearly, you knew that when Jake was feeling overwhelmed he had a tendency to snap out at people, it didn’t happen often and that didn’t make it okay, but in this case you had decided to let it go. The two of you had bigger fish to fry, Jake just didn’t know it yet.

“Have you been to the doctor yet?” he asked, his brows creasing in the middle as he slowed down to stop for a red light. Turning to look at you he just missed the look of guilt that had settled over you. It had been almost a week since Elizabeth had forced you to the urgent care for a check up where you discovered that you were pregnant. You just hadn’t been able to find a way to tell Jake.

“I have an appointment for later this week,” you replied, which wasn’t exactly a lie, you did have an appointment at the OBGYN for them to do a preliminary check on the baby.

“Okay, good,” he said, his brows still creased as he accelerated, the light turning green, “You don’t think there’s anything seriously wrong do you?” he asked quietly, you almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m sure that I’m fine, probably just too much stress from being in contact with you all the time,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Jake sighed, his face contorting into something that almost resembled anger, “It’s not funny Y/n, what if you have cancer, what if you are dying?” he asked seriously.

“I feel like I would know if I was dying, Jake,” you tried again, you were starting to get nervous, you were only a few minutes from the church and your goal had been to calm him down not rile him up more.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him with a raise of your hand, “I know I’ve had some weird symptoms recently but I think it could just be my hormones since I quit my birth control,” you said, trying to brush over the topic.

Jake’s mouth snapped shut and he guided the truck into the church’s almost empty parking lot. He flicked the key off and the humm of the engine cut out, leaving the two of you to sit in silence for a moment. You were going to try and say something again but at that moment Jake threw open his door and got out. You watched as he closed it, a little harder than necessary, before he wiped a hand down his face looking frustrated.

You knew that it would only piss him off further if you opened the door for yourself so you waited for him to come around to your side of the truck. When he opened the door for you, presenting you with his hand, you swung your legs across the seat, taking his hand, you pulled him towards you with a sharp tug. Jake wasn’t expecting it and he moved somewhat surprised towards the truck.

Reaching out, you tucked the collar of his shirt up, taking the tie you had saved from his grip earlier and slipping it around his neck. Wrapping it around itself and pulling the long end through, you tugged it gently until the knot rose to the top, just under his neck. Tucking the sides of his collar back down, you smoothed your hands over his chest, using the lapels of his suit jacket to pull him into a gentle kiss.

As the two of you parted he let out a quiet sigh, one of his hands resting on your cheek and the other on your thigh playing with the hem of your black dress, “I just don’t understand why you aren’t more worried,” he said, his eyes raising from your lap to your eyes.

You opened your mouth to respond but he interrupted you, “No you had your turn to talk and now I get mine. You are my wife and I love and respect you dearly, but I am worried about you. Baby you went from drinking seven billion cups of coffee a day to throwing up at the smell of it. You have been acting strangely, eating pickles, and been overly emotional, and I mean that in the nicest way. I just think there is something wrong, and –”

Jake was cut off by you pulling him into a kiss, he tried to pull back from you to say something else, but your grip on him was too tight. When you finally parted, you rested your forehead against his, “You wonderful, stupid, caring man,” you said quietly opening your eyes to look into his.

You couldn’t wait any longer to tell him, you couldn’t keep him in any more suspense, “I’m pregnant, Jake,” you said, pulling back some so you could watch his face for a reaction, “I found out this weekend, Lizzie made me go to urgent care when I fainted and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just didn’t know how and I wanted it to be spec–”

Jake cut you off with another kiss, you could feel him smiling widely, his lips tight against yours. He pulled away with a laugh, taking a few steps away from you and the truck before turning back and pulling you into his arms in a tight hug, “Really?” was all he could think to ask.

“Yes,” you replied, pulling him tighter to you, “The woman at urgent care said maybe two weeks along, but I have an appointment this week with my doctor to get a better estimate.”

“Why were you in urgent care?” he asks suddenly concerned, “Wait, did you say that you fainted? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you said quietly, the look of joy slowly melting off your face.

“Hey, you’re my wife, you can tell me anything, especially if it has to do with your health, okay?” Jake asked, “Promise me you’ll tell me if something is wrong in the future?”

You nodded, “I promise,” you said and he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

He helped you down from the truck, one hand braced against your nonexistent bump and the other supporting your back, a huge smile splitting his face.

“Honey?” you asked him.

“Yeah?” he replied, taking your hand and locking the truck.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to ruin his fun, “We are about to attend a funeral,” you said rather bluntly.

Jake looked at you, his face still forming a smile as he said, “Yes I know that,” he replied.

“Well you might want to try and wipe the smile off of your face then,” you told him with a giggle of your own, “Don’t want anyone thinking you’re glad the good father is dead or anything.”

Jake spluttered at your comment, the smile still on his face, “I don’t know if I can,” he said, trying his hardest to look sad. You just shook your head at him as you entered the church.

You helped Jake set up the church for the funeral, placing flower arrangements and pictures around the space, by the time you were done, the church was looking forlorn but brighter. The new priest who was going to be taking over for Father John was supposed to hold the funeral mass for the older priest and Jake was talking him through a few things. By the time people started to file into the church, you had taken a seat in a pew, feeling a bit light headed.

You pulled out a bottle of Gatorade, taking a sip and closing your eyes, letting the sugary drink work its way into your system.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Elisabeth asked, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your leg.

"A little dizzy," you replied, opening your eyes to see her looking at you with a bright smile, "This is so exciting! Have you thought of how to tell Jake?"

“How to tell Jake what?” Bob asked, scaring the life from you.

“Um, to tell Jake that…I broke a nail,” you said, your lie as unconvincing as the face you made trying to think of it. You could see Lizzie roll her eyes at your poor attempt at lying over Bob’s shoulder.

“You’re pregnant aren’t you?” he asked, a knowing look on his face.

You tried to cover up the shock that struck you but all that could come out of your mouth was, “How did you know?”

“It was the way you talked to Jake on the phone last weekend, and how he’s smiling today. He can’t hide any emotion that crosses his mind can he?” Bob asked, chuckling a little, “Congratulations, I’m really happy for you two.”

You nibbled your bottom lip, "Thank you, he was so worried and so scared and I just couldn't keep it from him!" you whisper shouted, a small smile etched on your lips.

"You should have, he looks as happy as he did on your wedding day," she giggled, "People will get the wrong idea."

"What's up with Jake," Cyclone asked, joining his wife on the pew next to you.

"Err.." Lizzie offered.

“Jake’s sister-in-law is pregnant, we got the news five minutes ago,” you replied.

“That’s wonderful, but people are starting to notice,” Cyclone said, “Mrs. McCreedy has already asked me if you were pregnant, because that’s the only reason she could think of for him to be smiling.”

“Huh,” Bob said, “Well… That was a fairly close guess…”

Cyclone hummed, he turned around to wave down Peter and Matthew, the triplets having been left at home with a new babysitter. They were still too young to properly grasp the concept of a funeral and as this one was open casket, as per Father John’s request, The Simpsons’ didn’t really want to have to deal with the questions as well as manage their own grief.

The boys shimmied into the pew, walking past their parents to sit as close to you as possible.

“How are you two holding up?” you asked, wrapping your arms around the boys.

“I’m doing okay, but Matthew hasn’t slept too well since Father John’s falls,” Peter leaned in close to whispered into your ear, “He’s been having nightmares,”

“I have not!” Matthew protests, a deep blush turning his ears a dark burgundy and slowly creeping down his neck. Behind him, Elisabeth mouthed ‘He has’. You looked at Matthew with a frown, gently running your hand through his hair.

“There’s nothing wrong with having nightmares, it doesn’t make you any less brave. Jake and I have nightmares, and I’m sure Daddy does too,” you said, “And Peter used to have nightmares when he was your age.”

“No I didn’t! You’re a liar,” he exclaimed, jumping up from the seat, attracting looks from the people in the pews around you.

“Oh, so I didn’t have to hold you while you fell asleep after you watched an episode of Thomas The Tank Engine?” you asked him, your tone questioning.

“No,” he answered too quickly, “I’m not scared of a cartoon,” he added.

Matthew smiled next to him, “So if I ask to watch it later --”

“If you do that I will hide Mamma’s creepy old doll in your bed,” Peter said quickly.

The smile vanished from Matthew’s face and the two boys settled down, their parents both giving them harsh looks for drawing attention during the funeral. Jake helped to lead the proceedings and by the end of the services, the smile he was trying so hard to keep off of his face was still there.

“Mr. Seresin,” Mrs. McCreedy called, “Why is it that you have been smiling this whole service, is there something good you’d like to share with the group.”

You quickly joined Jake’s side, plastering a smile on your own face before answering, “Well Mrs. McCreedy, just before the service we received word from Texas that our Sister-in-law is expecting another baby,” you said excitedly, “And we are just so thrilled for them.”

When Jake looked at you, a bit of confusion on his face, you nudged him, hard. He immediately turned back to the older woman, “Oh yes, my brother Tony’s wife is expecting another little one,” he said with a smile.

“Well,” Mrs. McCreedy said with a smile, “How blessed for them, maybe the two of you will be so lucky soon enough.”

“We hope so,” you replied.

Once everyone had a convincing story as to why Jake couldn’t keep the smile off his face, the rest of the day went rather smoothly. On the way home, he looked at you and you could feel the question he was about to ask, “We don’t tell anyone yet but our families,” you said quietly, “I just, I want to keep our little bean a secret a while longer, so they are just ours.”

Jake nodded, “Alright, if that’s what you want darlin’.”

“I was thinking we could ask Bob and Maria to be the Godparents, what do you think?” you asked him, taking his hand in yours.

Jake gave you his megawatt smile before answering, “I think that sounds great, I’m sure they will be so honoured.”

You smiled back at him, bringing his hand down to rest on your still flat stomach for the rest of the drive home.

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

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Church Encounters: Chapter 17

-- OMG I have been so excited for this chapter y'all have no idea!!! Also sorry this one is like 11k words again, oops

ALSO We will be taking a small hiatus til the 4th of October so we won't post Church Encounters for a while but pinky promise there will be more chapters in the future!!

This fic was written in collabpration with @lgg5989 who will be posting this to her AO3 and her tumblr! She also made the lovely moodboard below!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated and we take blurb requests!

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Taglist: @acarboni21 @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1998 @bbooks-and-teas @roosterscock @positivelyholland --