Amaya wakes as she does every morning; the balmy warmth of the morning sun through their thin off-white curtains and her wife snuggled into her back. She can't help but smile, Janai's arm wrapped around her waist where her oversized button-down had ridden up during the night.
She traces the gold band around Janai's ring finger, feels her wife's smile against her back before the mattress shifts.
Good morning, Janai's breath ghosts over her neck and Amaya turns in her grasp.
Was it the rooster again?
Isn't it always. Janai groans, burying her face in Amaya's shoulder and she chuckles, carding pale fingers through Janai's dark braids.
We should get up.
Must we? Janai signs.
You ask this every morning, Amaya retaliates, smiling, as she extracts herself from Janai's needy arms. Her wife buries herself back underneath the covers, glaring as if Amaya has betrayed her in the most unspeakable of ways.
Her gaze is appreciative, though, when it slides over Amaya's bare legs beneath the button-down.
Amaya throws a smile over her shoulder as she leans out the doorway. First one downstairs gets to pick the morning tea.
Amaya doesn't need to hear to recognize the thump of the floorboards. But she's already off, hurrying down the stairs, the floorboards shifting beneath her bare soles as she slides into the kitchen and leans against the counter.
Huffing, Janai stumbles into their kitchen scant seconds after Amaya does.
She hip-checks Amaya in passing, whose laugh is one that is loud and rough, unchecked.
Perfect.
Janai pulls a pan from the cupboard, flicking the gas stove to life with a switch. Dancing around her, sunshine streaming in through the open windows from the night before, Amaya can see the rooster perched on the fence just past their front porch. She watches as the rooster tilts his head back, opens his beak, Janai's ensuing fist she shakes at him.
"I'm UP!" she yells playfully and Amaya curls her feet under herself at the rickety kitchen table. The chairs are mismatched from generations of thrifting and determined patching-up, the ever-present idea of reusing instead of buying new.
She wouldn't have it any other way.
After breakfast, Amaya stands at the window, the pan that Janai scrambled two eggs in covered in soap and threatening to slip from her slick hands. The window above the sink is open and from her vantage point, she can see Janai crossing the grass between the house and the farm.
She bends to run her hand over the back of the stray, wild cats that sleep in the hay bails.
Neither one of them has the heart to get rid of them.
By the time Amaya is done washing up and is pulling on her work boots, the early morning sun's warmth has turned to an almost-uncomfortable heat. She stuffs a stiff straw hat on her head, bandana hanging from her back pocket, and gets to work. Janai is already milking the cows in the barn so Amaya starts small. She kneels in the garden just in front of their house, barely ten feet away from the wrap-around porch that tilts to the side on one end and gets to work.
The wild cats that Janai loves to leave scraps for brush up against Amaya's legs, purring, plopping down in the sunshine to nap. With a smile, Amaya scratches the underside of their chins before moving on, brushing off her hands and knees.
It's hopeless. She knows these overalls are stained beyond the strongest of detergents, even if they chose to buy the ones from the grocery store in town.
Janai's shadow falls over the ground Amaya is kneeled on and she turns, shading her eyes with a garden-gloved hand. Janai's smile is as wide and as bright as the sun.
What?
Look, Janai sighs and Amaya looks around her to see a total of six wild cats asleep around the patch of weeds she had been pulling. Janai's chest flutters with chuckles and Amaya laughs, too.
Janai tastes like the hay she's wrestled into the pens for the cows, the warmth of sunshine and the earthy smell of dirt beneath her fingernails. Amaya traces the lines of her palm with her gloved fingers, clasping their palms together before Janai's wide smile breaks them apart.
I think someone's watching.
Amaya turns with a smile, waving to a tired Gren. Their next-door neighbor volunteered to help them out once when Janai had fallen off a ladder and spent a month in bed but since then he's become their closest friend and farmhand. Although his assistance isn't really needed until harvest season, both Amaya and Janai enjoy having him around.
Morning! Gren signs as soon as he's close enough and Amaya bypasses the greeting for a hug instead.
Her best friend smells like strawberries and clean sheets. His fair skin is already ruddy in the sunlight and Janai wonders for the hundredth time what sunscreen he uses. How's Corvus?
Gren chuckles. Still refusing to get up before noon, I'm afraid. I might ask to take your rooster as an alarm clock.
He's all yours, Janai signs eagerly and they all chuckle as Gren slides his hands into his pockets.
"Anything interesting going on around here today?"
"There's not much to do this morning," Janai says aloud, gesturing to the farm. Her wedding ring glints in the late morning light. "So you're welcome to hang around. We'll probably have lunch in a few."
Gren nods, signing something to Amaya she doesn't see. But her wife turns red, swats at Gren's arm who laughs and Janai shakes her head. "You two are incorrigible," she grumbles but presses a kiss to Amaya's cheek.
Think you can handle this one?
Amaya's eyes glint but Gren's hands find an answer first. I think I got her, Janai.
Janai's chuckle covers the betrayed gasp Amaya gives, poking at Gren's ribs. The man yelps playfully, twisting out of the way and takes off for the chicken coop behind the house.
Amaya follows. Janai watches them, a smile stretching her cheeks wide before she rolls her sleeves back up and gets to work.
Forty minutes later she finds Gren on his back in the chicken coop, absolutely covered in chicks. She can barely see his mop of unruly red hair under the swarm of peeping yellow fluff, can hear his piercing cry. Amaya laughs at him, leaning against the stall door that separates the chicks from their parents.
She smiles at Janai, rolling her eyes at the man bodily covered in baby chickens.
I told him not to, Amaya pretends to sigh.
Janai chuckles. You know that's never worked. He's like a heat lamp. How many has he named?
Seventeen are named Peep, Amaya somehow signs with a straight face. Gren makes a sound of offense.
"Shut up," Janai instructs playfully. "You dug your grave, now lie in it."
"Gratefully," Gren croons as he spreads his arms, somehow sweeping more of the yellow fluffy chicks into his arms. He looks perfectly at home, cuddling piles of the peeping fluff in the crook of his elbows and even as they peck at his fingers.
Janai shakes her head at the sight while Amaya's shoulders shake with laughter. Her wife is leaning on her elbows against the pen door, one boot tucked behind the other and ankles crossed. She looks so at ease that Janai wants to sweep her into her arms and kiss her until Amaya's rough laugh is loud and perfect.
Janai is opening her mouth to propose lunch when there's a commotion from outside. Eyebrows knitting, Janai turns and catches Amaya noticing her turn, turning as well.
What is it?
Visitors, Janai signs back as Gren sits up, carefully. Are we expecting someone?
Amaya's face screws up for a second before she shakes her head. Not that I can remember.
Whatever car that's coming down the driveway is kicking up all kinds of dust. Janai and Amaya reach the end of the yard, the winding dirt road that leads off the main road a bit out, the worn basketball hoop.
Gren joins them a second later, brushing pieces of hay off his plaid shirt. Janai doesn't mention the strands of hay in his hair, too, as Gren sneezes once.
Her wife is focused solely on the car coming up the drive.
The car comes to a halt, the back door opens, and –
"AUNT AMAYA!"
Janai blinks as a figure darts across the scraggly grass around the end of the dirt road and slams into Amaya. Her wife goes down with a muffled oof! and Janai's reaching to pry whatever the thing is off when there's a blur of motion.
"Aunt Janai!"
She turns as a mop of brown hair latches onto her and the realization hits her all once.
"Callum," Janai smiles, turning into full-blown laughter as she hugs the boy tight. "Callum! I didn't know you were coming up this weekend!"
He peers up at her. "We didn't either! Mom surprised us!"
"Apparently she blackmailed Dad into coming, too," Callum whispers then, voice dropping and Janai smirks.
Harrow steps from the car, squinting against the harsh afternoon light. Despite being spring, the sun isn't merciful past noon. Janai notes how he takes a long breath, letting it out with a sigh.
"Janai!"
Callum releases her in time for Amaya's sister to sweep her into a hug instead. Janai's arms come around the shorter woman, cheeks aching from all her smiling. Sarai is shorter than Amaya by a few inches but just as determined and passionate about everything. She shares the same dark hair color, the same almond-shaped eyes as her younger sister.
As always, Janai finds herself slowly not being able to breathe within her arms.
"Sarai-" she wheezes and her sister-in-law makes a sound of apology, releasing her. As she sucks in huge breathes of fresh hair, Janai catches a glimpse of her youngest nephew.
The same one that tackled her wife into the ground.
Sarai surveys the scene with a laugh. "They missed you, sister," she signs before peeling her youngest son off of Amaya. Janai extends a hand and Amaya takes it.
She's covered in dirt but smiling widely.
They weren't the only ones missed, Amaya signs before pulling her older sister into a bear hug. Janai watches how they seem to battle each other for who squeezes the air out of the other's lungs.
A shadow falls across her face and she turns as a hand settles on her shoulder. "Good to see you again," Harrow rumbles and Janai nods.
"You too. Someone said you were blackmailed into coming? What's that about?"
Harrow laughs at the smirk on Janai's face. "My wife can be...persuasive. You know how the sisterly puppy dog eyes go."
"I can't believe you didn't give in immediately," Janai says, surprised. "Amaya pouts slightly and I cave to anything. I really need to up my defenses."
Harrow chuckles again as Sarai releases her sister, fingers flying. Janai turns away to smile at Callum, not wanting to interrupt their moment as Harrow moves to shake hands with Gren, who someone extracted himself from the chicks to check out the commotion outside.
"So your mom tells me you're taking a drawing class," she says slyly and watches the blush that spreads over his face. "I took a few courses myself. Want me to show you the best spots around the farm?"
Callum's face lights up. "Yes!" he all but shouts and Janai's smile only grows.
Amaya watches her oldest nephew take her wife's hand and take off for the house. She can't hear Janai's laugh but knows it's there, knows that the sunshine is brighter in that moment.
I've missed you, Amaya.
She turns. Sarai regards her with something in her eyes that Amaya can't pinpoint. I missed you too, sister, Amaya signs back. We need to get together more often. I can't believe you convinced Harrow to take off.
It wasn't that hard to convince Harrow to come, Sarai signs to her as they watch her husband clap Gren on the back before Gren swings Ezran onto his shoulders and start walking towards the barn. It was actually Callum who put up the most fight. I thought he was going to lose it when I told him because, apparently, he was planning on a weekend with Rayla.
Rayla? Amaya's eyebrows raise. You've never mentioned a Rayla before.
Sarai chuckles. I was leaving that pleasure to Callum. Once he starts there's no stopping him. It's adorable.
What was he planning?
Some kind of elaborate date, Sarai signs back as they start towards the house. It's their three month anniversary this weekend and I'm the worst mother in the world for making him spend time with his family.
You act surprised, Amaya smirks and Sarai pinches her arm with a scandalized smile. Amaya chuckles as Callum and Janai reach the porch ahead of them.
She knows Janai is showing him the roof, where they can see the entire property and the fields for miles in every direction. At the thought, she smiles to herself, their last date up there as Janai popped a bottle of wine and Amaya spread the threadbare blanket they used on their first date and never had the heart to get rid of flashing through her mind.
Sarai is quiet until they reach the porch. I'm glad you kept the house, she signs and Amaya would have missed it if not for the movement out of the corner of her eye she manages to catch.
What?
Sarai stops before the screen door. I'm glad you kept the house, she repeats, resting her palm on one of the chipping shutters. Amaya makes a mental note to add that to her list of things she needs to do. We grew up here. I'm glad Callum and Ezran get to, too.
Her smile gets slicker.
And others, in the future.
Amaya chuckles, sweeping open the screen door with one hand and signing with the other. You somehow manage to ask about kids every time I see you, she says with a smirk.
Sarai doesn't look the least bit self-conscious.
I'll stop asking when I get an answer, her sister responds haughtily and breezes past Amaya with a self-satisfied look on her face.
Peppermint?
Please, Sarai signs and Amaya sets the kettle on the stove before sitting down at the table, positioning her chair so she can see the tarnished metal out of the corner of her eye.
For a few minutes, they're quiet. Amaya closes her eyes and relishes in the warm air coming through the open windows, can feel the vibrations of Callum and Janai running around upstairs.
She smiles to herself.
Sarai taps the table twice and Amaya cracks her eye open when she feels it.
You're happy, Sarai signs and Amaya's smile spreads like honey. I'm glad you found your happiness, Maya.
The kettle releases pent-up steam shrilly as Amaya reaches across the table to cover Sarai's hands with one of her own.
I had happiness long before Janai, she signs, eyes not leaving her sister's. But she is a part of it, as are you and Harrow and Callum and Ezran and Gren. You're my family as this is my home.
The front door slams open and ruins the moment.
Ezran just about trips himself coming in and Amaya chuckles as he launches himself at his mother, mouth moving a hundred miles an hour.
The tea is all but forgotten. Ezran drags them out to meet the chick that refuses to leave his side, nestles into the pocket in his breast-pocket and falls asleep there.
Sarai laughs. "Don't let Bait let you find out you got a new best friend," she says and Ezran's face drops dramatically for a second before it brightens.
"Can we bring Zym home with us?"
While her youngest nephew's face falls when Amaya informs him that no, he cannot take the chick back into town and home with him, she promises to send updates frequently. Ezran seems satisfied with that and takes off back across the yard, where Harrow and Gren are bent over a piece of farm equipment.
Amaya and Sarai re-locate to the front porch. Without her realizing it, evening has fallen and she curls her feet beneath her as the baby-blue swing gently moves with the wind.
Sarai blows on her tea. Should I be concerned I haven't seen Callum all day?
No, Amaya chuckles as she balances the mug on her knee to sign with one hand. Janai won't let him get in trouble. It wouldn't surprise me if she's shown him every inch of the farm by now, despite the fact he's been here a million times.
I didn't know Janai liked art.
She took a bunch of classes in college, Amaya says as she looks out on the yard, Sarai's truck parked in the distance. The swing sways. She eventually dropped art because her parents said it wasn't the most concrete of careers but her sister never gave up on her.
I've never met her sister, Sarai's eyebrows ruffle as she signs. I know she has a little sister but I don't think she was at the wedding. Was she?
Amaya shakes her head. She wasn't. Carita was overseas that year but I thought she was going to kill Janai when she found out we got hitched.
Sarai drains her mug and sets it on the porch, chuckling. When she sits back on the swing and looks out on the property they both grew up on, Amaya observes the curve of her nose, the mole under her eye.
The house trembles the minute before Callum spills out the front door. "Mom!" he all but yells. "Mom, look!"
Sarai takes the sketchbook that's shoved into her face as Callum plops between his mother and aunt. Amaya peeks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow.
These are impressive, Callum. You're very good.
Under the praise, her nephew blushes.
Sarai looks up. "Did you show Rayla yet? I'm sure she'd love the one you did with the wild cats."
His face lights up as he turns to her.
Can I use your landline, Aunt Amaya?
Amaya's barely nodded before he's tripping over himself to get back inside. Janai is just coming through the door as he does and twists out of the way just in time as he barrels past her.
She watches him go before turning to the two women on the porch swing. "How on Earth does he have that much energy? He just ran down two flights of stairs."
"I have no clue," Sarai chuckles and Amaya smirks.
I should've told him the only way to get signal was to get back on the roof.
Janai bursts into laughter as Sarai tries to look stern but falls short. You did that last time, she signs and Amaya smiles.
Damn.
Language, darling, Janai parrots. Amaya flips off her wife before getting up to stretch out her arms.
You done with your tea, Sarai?
Her older sister nods, drawing her legs up to cross underneath her. Amaya hip-checks her way into the house and passes Callum in the hall, talking excitedly over the phone, lips moving a hundred miles an hour. She smiles to herself as she washes out the mug. She can see the top of Sarai's head from here, can see that Janai has taken her place on the swing.
They're turned just enough Amaya knows they're talking but doesn't know what about.
It's private. She joins Callum in the living room and listening to him gush about Rayla before beginning on dinner.
That night, after they've eaten and sent the kids to bed, after the grown-ups shared half a bottle of whiskey on the back porch and watched the fireflies fade back into the tall grasses, Amaya fingerspells into Janai's hand in the dark.
You're good with them.
Her wife shifts behind her. Who?
Callum and Ezran, she signs and, before she loses her nerve - Sarai asked about our future today.
The mattress dips as Janai scoots impossibly closer. Amaya can feel the rise and fall of Janai's chest as her wife notches her chin in the space between Amaya's neck and shoulder. What about it?
Kids, Amaya signs and feels how Janai's breath leaves her all at once.
She's rambling then, fingers moving quickly, spilling words into Janai's hand on her waist until the same hand moves to cover it. Janai pulls her up off the mattress until they're sitting across from each other, knees knocking into each other.
Amaya, Janai signs. Amaya looks anywhere but her wife.
Amaya, Janai repeats and slots a single hand under Amaya's chin. She looks up to find Janai smiling, the lamp by their bedside illuminated. Amaya. Do you want kids?
She hesitates but Janai doesn't look away, waits.
I don't know, she signs finally. Do you?
I want everything with you, Janai replies forcefully but with care. Amaya's chest flutters with the conviction there. I want what you want. If you want kids, then let's have kids. We have more than enough room.
Callum and Ezran would be over the moon, Amaya signs, smiling. She can see it all now and almost startles with how clear the image is of their dining room table, empty chairs crowded with a couple of kids. As would my sister. And yours, probably.
But what do you want?
I want kids with you, Amaya says and leans forward to kiss her wife before Janai can.
Janai's smile could light up the night sky. It's a star on the horizon, a distant sunrise.
I want kids with you, too, Janai signs and Amaya tackles her into the sheets.
If Sarai shoots them knowing looks the next morning when they come down late and Janai's collar is popped up, she doesn't say a thing, just smiles snarkily over toast that Amaya burns purposefully in retaliation.