Author's Note: If you ever wonder why I had to put something sad in the story. If you've ever thought, 'but why this? Was this really necessary?' It's not a science, but there's a reason for it. We're getting close to the end now.

Enjoy.

Ellie strolls onto Cornwell Street, where the fresh food stalls are set up every day. It's not even ten yet, the unofficial opening time, and several stalls are still being loaded for the day. She's early, but it's for a reason. She likes to keep herself occupied these days. It helps. So she'd spent a few hours cleaning Joel's place.

Maria told her it was hers if she wanted it, and Ellie didn't want anyone else moving in. But she's not ready to move in herself. Not yet. Dina keeps asking when Ellie's going to host dinner, to which Ellie keeps replying "soon, maybe," demurely.

Ellie approaches Eddin's stall. He eyes her as he loads more tomatoes. "Sweet, these," he says. "You'll like 'em."

Ellie picks up a tomato from the basket. It's plump and bright red. It almost makes her mouth water, but not because she wants to bite into it. It makes her think of Dina's sauce. Dina had given her the recipe, but Ellie is more of a… simple cook.

After the… event with Abby in the alley a few days ago, Ellie had gone back to Dina's house. Lev was still playing with JJ, but when Ellie got back, he questioned her worriedly. Ellie told him Abby would probably go home soon, and he left to be there when she did. Ellie was still kind of dazed.

She asked Dina if she could stay and Dina had said "of course." Privately, Ellie confessed to her that Abby had hugged her. She's not sure why she said it, she just felt like she needed to say it to someone. Dina looked surprised, too. She asked for the whole story, but after thinking for a few seconds, Ellie declined. She said it felt private. So Dina said okay, hugged her, and the night carried on.

Ellie feels a dull pang of longing for living with Dina and her family. She takes a breath. She could go over there again. It's been almost three days. She sighs. Maybe she could try to make it at Abby and Lev's house.

A weak grin grows on her face. She wonders if she and Abby could cook together better than they played Bid Whist. She puts five tomatoes in her basket anyway.

"Good crop this year," says Peter. Since taking over the crop stall from his dad Hank, he spends most of the time in a chair with his feet kicked up on another chair, reading books, letting the produce sell itself. He's an alright guy, though.

"Hope so," says Ellie, "I hear Souza is coming up in greenhouse H. Marty told me his celery is the best in town."

"Celery," Peter scoffs, turning the page. "Let me know when celery's the talk of the town around here."

Smirking, Ellie continues to the next stalls.

Not everyone goes to Market Row, since all produce and grains and such are stored long term down at Ulrich's warehouse, where you can buy them at any time. If you've got time and you want the freshest, though, you come here.

She grabs some potatoes and an onion from Carrie's stall, continuing on to Derrick's. Derrick is all grain. He tries, with some success, to put a badass slant on his grain, since most of it is grown outside town, in relatively unprotected land, making farming and harvesting risky, and at times dangerous. A campaign that's enhanced by the eyepatch over his right eye. There are rumors that his eye is fine, and it's just for show, but Ellie has never seen for herself.

She looks over his wares. He's got plenty of wheat, but also barley and even oat flour. Ellie considers. She likes baked goods well enough, but baking has resulted in disaster one too many times for her.

"There's my kind of customer," says Derrick, turning to Ellie after helping someone else. "As rugged as my blood-cut oats." It stirs uncomfortable feelings for Ellie, but she pushes that down and rolls her eyes.

"Dangerous work," says Ellie. "Be careful out there, or one day you might be standing on a peg leg all day, hawking flour," she quips to the person standing next to her.

Derrick snorts at that. "Surprised I'm not already—"

Ellie doesn't hear the rest, because the person standing next to Ellie turns out to be May. As soon as she sees her face, Clint flashes through her mind. They're surprised at each other, then Ellie feels a wave of coldness in her chest, then something else in her gut. Guilt.

May, for her part, recognizes Ellie. Whatever goes through her mind next, Ellie can't tell, but then she smiles. "Ellie, now if it hasn't been an ages since I've seen you."

Ellie knows she's looking pale. She fumbles for words. "Shop still running okay?" The words come out hollow.

Now Ellie sees sympathy in May's eyes, and she feels even worse. "Doing just fine. That's why I'm here!" She looks down at her wheelbarrow, already loaded with two sacks of flour. "Hmm… Got any time, Ellie? With your help, I could probably bring back four bags, save me another trip. I can pay with baked goods!" She lowers her tone and whispers conspiratorially. "From this morning, but they're still good, I assure you. I know my craft."

Ellie's taken aback. She looks down at the wheelbarrow. "Sure." She sniffs, rubbing her nose. Then she puts her basket on the ground, loads up another couple sacks of wheat flour, puts her basket on top and picks up the wheelbarrow.

"Ooh, aren't you a strong one. Come on, now." May's form ambles down the lane in front of her. Ellie follows, huffing slightly with the effort. Flour is heavier than you'd think.

May doesn't say anything else as they make their way across Jackson to her bakery. May's not weak, she could probably push the cart if she had to, but she's over fifty, blonde hair mostly gray, fairly round and short. She walks with a favor to one side. Possibly arthritis, possibly an old injury. She's a kindly woman, loved by folk even more than her goods, and she's right, she knows her craft.

They arrive at the bakery and May opens the back door and gestures for Ellie to push the cart right in. She helps May unload it, all the while feeling a growing tension.

Ellie never spoke to May before they left Jackson. She knew she and Clint had a relationship, maybe his closest living. They weren't blood, but the fondness was clear. She also knew Clint had lost his only family. His sister on the road, then his mother in Jackson, to sickness.

Ellie knows she should have come to see her after getting back to Jackson. After Clint.

"Oh, I do love a helpful youth," says May, clutching her own basket of eggs. "And you are strong, aren't you! Well, come on. I told you I owe you. And I've got to get these in the fridge."

Ellie's real nervous by this point, it's probably showing, but all she can do is nod and follow.

It's mid-afternoon, so May's bakery is empty, closed for the day. The little lightwood tables are all wiped clean, chairs all neatly tucked in. There are paintings on the walls of wildflowers and a deer fawn. It makes Ellie think of a grandmother's house.

May's busy behind the counter, loading the eggs into the fridge. She looks over her shoulder at Ellie. "Well, why don't you take your pick? I'll take the rest down to Arnold's, but not all of them are gonna get eaten." She leans into the fridge, placing eggs into the back, but she turns Ellie's way again. "And you and I have both spent time on the road. We both know it's a shame to see food go to waste."

She's right about that. Ellie fiddles with her hands. Nervous as she is, she doesn't have much of an appetite. She walks behind the counter, though, and looks through the open back of the glass cases.

There are a bunch of croissants and rolls. There are a couple little berry bakes too which immediately catch Ellie's eye. Just what the doctor ordered. Right before she makes her selection, though, she looks on the far right and is surprised to see a few lemon squares. Ellie wouldn't have suspected such a dessert item being on display.

They're lemon curd, probably hand made by May, with a tasteful dusting of ground sugar on top and that sumptuous, flakey pastry layer on bottom. Ellie's mouth starts to water. Berry is her favorite, but for some reason, they call to Ellie right now. With delicate hands, she reaches in and pulls one out on the little chipped ceramic plate it's sitting on.

She stands there kind of awkwardly, waiting for May to formally approve. She also kind of needs a fork or something.

When May closes the refrigerator door and turns around, seeing what Ellie selected, she tilts her head. "Well, isn't that something." May appraises Ellie gently. "Those were Clint's favorite."

Ellie's stomach drops and the little dish trembles in her hands. She meets May's eyes but what she sees there makes her look at the floor.

"Ellie?" May asks, concerned as a mother.

"Are you mad at me?" Ellie asks her meekly.

Habitually wiping her hands on her apron, May slows to a stop. "Am I mad?"

Ellie's heartrate is accelerating, and her mind is racing. She probably looks fucked up. She curses herself for not coming sooner. She keeps seeing Clint's glassy eyes on that trailer floor.

May closes the distance between them and Ellie is powerless to move. May takes the little plate and sets in the counter. She takes Ellie's fingers in her hands. "Why would I be mad, Ellie?"

Summoning her willpower, Ellie meets her eyes. They're soft, and warm, and moist.

"It was my fault," Ellie mutters.

May's caring expression deepens and she squeezes Ellie's fingers. "Ellie, you're not the first person to feel that way. I feel that way."

Ellie's brow furrows. "How… what could you have done?"

"That's a good question, Ellie." There's aged wisdom on May's face. "And a difficult one to answer at times. I could have talked him out of it, though. I could have done that."

Ellie blinks. She's right. It wouldn't have happened, if he had never come.

Clint is in her face again, her back to that pillar outside the lodge. His confidence outstrips his wisdom. I'm in.

"But a young man—a young person," May corrects herself, "is going to do what they feel they have to. Despite the risks. And from what I heard, you two did what you set off to do. Your mission."

Ellie's brow twitches. She glances off to the side. Ellie's mission, Clint had once said sardonically. That changed, though. In Santa Barbara. He was supposed to be here. They were supposed to share this.

Whatever victory 'this' amounted to.

"He was protecting me," Ellie utters suddenly, "when it happened."

That does give May pause. She rears back her head slightly, then closes her eyes in chagrin and turns to the side. She doesn't speak it, but Ellie can read her lips. Bev.

May turns back to her. "That boy was always so determined, wasn't he?"

Now Ellie is taken aback. She doesn't have any words, so she just nods.

"And disciplined. She trained him up good, that way." Ellie doesn't have to ask who she's talking about. "Come Jackson, then his mother's illness… he had lost just about everything." May sighs, looking into the distance. "A stranger wouldn't know it, looking at him. He took to duty, and working in the field. Always wanted to show his strength. I suspected it's because he feared he'd never had it."

The shrewdness surprises Ellie. May's fingers are still curled with her own.

"It's why he spent so much time with that Hugh character, lifting weights." She chuckles. "You know they would listen to metal? He played some for me once," she chuckles again. "Kind of took me back before the outbreak, actually…" She grows more serious again and looks at Ellie.

"As the years passed in Jackson, my worry grew, you know… I just saw… Or I didn't see, a good future for him. A wife, children. He could have all that. He deserved it. But something, something just kept him from it. I'd get after him, but he'd insist he was fine. With his routine. It kept me up at night. I even spoke to Maria about it."

As the words sink in, Ellie's eyes widen.

Maria is leaning on her desk, in her office, having just made a peculiar demand. Ellie asked her if she had a list of people.

No list. But it's Wednesday, so you can find him down at the cafeteria, making a waffle sandwich.

"When he first came to me and told me what you two were planning, of course I thought it was ridiculous." With that May sighs, and Ellie recognizes the feeling of regret in her eyes. "And then I thought about it… and reluctantly, reluctantly, I warmed up to it."

At the last, her voice finally breaks a little. She takes a breath, then skillfully reaches up and swipes some moisture from her eye.

"He was strong, I knew he was strong. In more ways than one. And as years passed, a skilled patroller as well. And that was all just rationalization, because at the end of the day I knew I couldn't forbid him. Well, maybe I could. He's a good boy, you know. He listens. I could have talked him out of it, if I really tried, I think. But…"

May takes a deep breath then, pulling until it seems her chest is full, and letting it all out at once. "But no. Wouldn't have been right. So I gave him my blessing. And if the day came where I learned he would never come back, I knew would have to accept my portion of the responsibility."

Ellie frowns sharply. In May's face then, it's all there. Sadness, regret, responsibility, empathy, and love.

"So if you're going to blame yourself, Ellie, you're going to have to blame me as well."

It's only then, in a subtle lilt of her words, that Ellie finally begins to see the other thing. May's fragility, in all this. And for Ellie, a heat rises, buffeting the ice, a strength flows into her limbs, and she pulls May into an embrace, her head on her shoulder.

"Oh, Ellie, don't," May protests, arms wrapping around her back, but her voice isn't steady. "No…" she says into Ellie's shoulder. Ellie can feel her trembling, and a warm wetness touch her skin.

She holds May like that for some time, while the older woman gently weeps.

Ellie spent a while longer with May. Once she was done crying, she sat Ellie down while she ate her lemon square. She is actually a great conversationalist. They talked a lot about food, and then about hunting. It turns out that on the road, May had been a crack shot.

"Really?" Ellie asked.

"Oh, I'm no boaster. I had strong young mouths to feed, and that meant rabbits for stew on a regular basis. And the thing with rabbit stew, is you've got to have some nice mushrooms."

"I think I know what you're talking about. Clint and I did that a couple times." Ellie sniffs, remembering. "Yeah, in the Utah mountains, I remember…"

Eventually, Ellie told May she had to finish her shopping, and the older woman had showed her out the back. She thanked Ellie tenderly, squeezing her hand.

"I know you don't like coffee, but you should come by soon for sweets. I might have something special for you."

"Thanks," Ellie replied. Ellie had never gotten to know May really, but now she finds herself glad to have her in town.

Back at Market Row, Ellie has picked up the basil she needs for the sauce, and she looks over her shoulder for the carrot guy, Earl. Carrots aren't for the sauce, just for munching. But the first thing she notices is a woman with long, curly, bright red hair. Ellie's heart jumps in her chest for a second, then she realizes it can't be Maedlyn. Her height, her shoulders are wrong. She cuts a handsome figure in a simple black dress with butterfly patterns on it, though.

Ellie doesn't recognize her. She must have moved to Jackson after Ellie left. As she's watching, the woman chats animatedly with one of the vendors. She's very expressive. She seems full of character. Lawrence in the booth starts laughing. Ellie smiles, then something catches her eye. The woman's eyes, and her eyebrows. The way her lips move. And the sound of her voice, a distinct accent.

While Ellie wonders, the woman glances around and happens to catch Ellie's eye. Oh, shit. Suddenly embarrassed, Ellie tries to play it off. Looking around desperately, she grabs a rutabaga and puts it in her basket, but when she turns, the woman is right there.

Ellie's surprised, but the woman is almost more so. Her eyes go wide, and she retracts her head. "And you must be Ellie!" she says. Between her accent and her face, it could not be more abundantly clear that this is Maedlyn's mom. "Now, I have heard so much about you!"

"Really?" Ellie replies weakly.

"Oh, yes, you're the talk of the town! I heard you just got back from an epic, to hear it told. Some people are even saying—well, people say a lot of things."

Ellie can tell she's blushing. She's not giving her much room in the conversation. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Oh, my gosh!" the woman exclaims, "if you aren't right. My name is Eilene! Pleased to meet you!" She gives Ellie a strange, dainty handshake. "Now, I'm very social, so I'm sure we'd have met, but you only got back to town not long ago, is that right?"

"That's right," says Ellie.

"Well, forgive my rudeness, why don't you come to my place for some tea! I have cookies as well, the road seems to have underfed you."

Not sure whether she should be offended, Ellie is thinking of a response when she feels Eilene's arm on her back and suddenly they're walking together down the street. "I, uh…"

"Oh, you aren't busy, are you dear?"

"Well, no… I should get these home at some point, though." Ellie lifts up her basket.

"Oh, such a healthy eater, I see! It's no worry, my house is on the way."

"How do you know that?" Ellie asks, taken aback.

"You live down on Caster Street, right? Down by the end? Like I said, I'm very social. No meat for a young woman?" Eilene gestures down to her basket.

"Oh, uh…"

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"Well, no, definitely not. I just usually get my steaks at Arnold's."

"Oh, Arnold's," she makes a dismissive gesture. "Now, the man's talented, but seems like he gets the lion's share of the business around here. Pai, down on Langston, now he's got some great dishes, I love meeting my girlfriends over there."

"Really? I haven't been there."

"Oh, there's new places cropping up every month around here, it seems like."

"Yeah, I had Guillermo's last time I was here," Ellie's stomach lurches at the memories and who she's walking with, but she catches herself quickly, "it's really good. Really good. We had Mexican in Boston, but it was awful by comparison."

"Oh," Eilene's eyes telegraph exaggerated interest. It's hard to tell how sincere she's being. "Well, if you aren't right. I'm fond of the man himself, too. So charming, and such good humor!" Ellie smiles, remembering the charismatic cook. "His restaurant has only the finest."

At first Ellie thinks she imagines the implication, then she thinks she's right, and she can feel her cheeks turn pink.

They're approaching a lovely little one-story house with a red door and lots of flowers on display on the front porch.

"This is your place?" Ellie asks. "It's really nice."

"Oh, thank you, sweetheart. It took a while to settle in, but it's perfect. Not too big, so there's not too much to clean. Come in! Come in!"

Eilene beckons as she pushes open the shiny red door. Ellie climbs the last step and walks inside. It opens to a sitting area on the right with a nice, but chipped vase on the coffee table. The couches are mismatched, but both floral printed. To the left is a dining area with a nice, antique looking table and chairs and another vase in the middle. Everything is kind of immaculate and dust-free. It makes Ellie feel a bit bad about her place. The air smells like lavender. Honestly, it smells strongly of lavender.

"Go ahead and have a seat, hun," Eilene says without turning, gesturing to the couches. "I'll bring out something nice." She disappears in the back, where Ellie guesses the kitchen is.

Not having much alternative, Ellie places her basket on the entry table. As she lets go, she freezes. She forgot to pay for the rutabaga. She'll have to make it up to Rufus next time. She plunks down onto one of the couches. They're pretty soft with age, but the fabric is really well cleaned. She runs her hand along it. The coffee table shines. Curious, Ellie touches it. Her finger comes away a little oily, and she wipes it on her jeans.

A few minutes later, there's some whistling from the kitchen, and afterward Eilene returns with a full tray, setting it on the table.

"I hope you don't mind Earl Grey."

"Could never complain," says Ellie, having no idea what Earl Grey is.

"Here's some honey, if you prefer sweet. I know I do. I'd have made you a hot toddy, but I figured it's a bit early."

Ellie can't help but smirk at that. Eilene has a full, matching tea set, with little spoons that look to be made of silver. It's fancy enough it almost makes her a little nervous to use them. Eilene pours her a cup, and Ellie spoons some of the thick honey into it, stirring until it dissolves.

Ellie picks up the cup and finds that Eilene is watching her expectantly. Feeling under pressure, Ellie takes a sip. It's stronger than she expected, but the honey offsets it. It's quite nice, actually.

"I like it," she says simply.

"Oh, good!" says Eilene, seeming genuinely pleased. She sits down across from Ellie.

Also on the tray is a plate of cookies of a few varieties. Ellie's eyes widen when she sees the jam sandwiches. She hasn't had one of those in ages. "What kind are these?"

"Oh, strawberry, of course."

Ellie grabs one and takes a bite, dribbling a few crumbs onto the carpet from the crisp pastry. A little embarrassed, she grabs one of the saucers and holds it under her hand as she chews. It's totally delicious.

Not vocalizing her enjoyment, she makes a sound gives Eilene a look of approval.

"Oh, I'm glad you like them. They're my favorite, too, and Maedlyn's."

Ellie almost chokes at the name, but manages to hold it together. She takes a sip of tea, or more like a gulp.

"Now you two have met, correct?" Eilene asks innocently.

She doesn't know everything, Ellie tells herself. Maedlyn's discreet. She wouldn't have told her everything.

"Yeah, the first night I went to Guillermo's," says Ellie. She's not sure what to say. "She seems well liked."

"Oh, I hope so. She's my little treasure, after all. But who could not like her?"

"She's a charmer," says Ellie, stirring her tea.

"Oh, indeed." Eilene stirs her own tea and takes a sip. "Just that one night, then?"

"Um," says Ellie, "I ran into her a couple more times. We talked a little."

"Can I ask what about?" Eilene asks, cradling her steaming cup in front of her face, coy as can be.

I see where she gets it. Ellie considers. "Life, I guess. She, um." Ellie sniffs. "She was nice to me, after New Year's. Not long after Tommy died."

"Oh," that affects Eilene somewhat. "That was dreadful." She lowers her teacup. "I'm sorry, Ellie. It must have been hard."

"It was." She can't help but see Clint, carrying Tommy on his shoulder. Then Clint, on Abby's…

She sets her teacup down firmly with a little clack. She starts taking deep breaths, willing herself steady. She can deal with that stuff later. She can deal with that stuff later.

Eilene shifts in her seat. She's probably distressed at Ellie's reaction. 'Subtle' as she is, Ellie must be like a bullhorn right now. Ellie decides to head it off.

"So where did you two come from?" Ellie asks her.

Eilene's taken aback, and for an instant, the mask slips. "Before Jackson, you mean?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind me asking."

"Well…" Eilene touches her lips wither two of her fingers, looking down. "I'm sorry, I…"

"We don't have to talk about it," says Ellie, feeling foolish. Why would she want to talk about that?

"It's okay, you've been so gracious. It's just, those were harder times." She slumps down into the couch a bit. "Being honest with you, Ellie, this life is much more my speed." She glances down at the tea set and chuckles. "But you can probably tell."

"Yeah," says Ellie, and it's easy to smile. "I'm glad for you."

Eilene gazes down at her steaming tea for a few seconds, then speaks up all at once.

"Those were frightful times. After the outbreak, there were years… I dare not even say. Wesley and I settled in Paisley, Missouri. There was a small settlement there." Her brow pinches. There's nostalgia on her face, and… remorse, it looks like. "Paisley was really fine, you know. The time we spent there. We all kind of came together, different walks of life. We made a little village. The men made a fence, to keep out the sick."

The sick? Is that what she calls the infected?

"The women farmed, and cooked, the men hunted. We grew together. It was a nice time. Maedlyn was born in Paisley."

"Really?" Ellie asks.

"Oh, yes. And she wasn't the only one. And for many years, over a decade, we were happy there. There were trials… seasons of illness. Trouble with the crops. But we made do. I loved every single one of those people. I love them still." Eilene's eyes have grown more distant as she stares into the carpet. There's a longing smile on her lips, but then, the wrinkles on her face start to show. "Then things went bad for us, all at once.

"A group appeared at the gates one day, demanding entry. We obliged them, since we weren't warlike, but it turns out they were. I could tell just by looking at them that these men were trouble. They walked around the village without our permission, inspecting things and saying nothing much polite. Then they started making demands. We needed to give them this many crops, this much fabric, so on and so forth. Mavis put his foot down finally and kicked them all out. They were outnumbered, so they left. Then they came back that night in numbers and raised hell."

There's a tremor on Eilene's face. Ellie wonders if she should tell her she doesn't have to say any of this, but she seems determined. "They broke down the gate with a truck. They set buildings on fire and ran people down, cutting 'em, shooting 'em. They killed Mavis, and more of the men that stood up for us. Including my Matthew," her voice breaks.

"I'm so sorry," says Ellie, and she genuinely is.

"Well, of course. Me too. Still am. But we survived. They never left, after that. They would always be walking around town with their guns, beating up anyone who showed too much attitude. They took what they wanted from our crops and supplies. And more than that."

"Eilene…"

"Was no question I couldn't allow Maedlyn to grow up in such a place. Several of the women began plotting in the sewing rooms and fields. We would run away, at night, when they were sleeping off their liquor. Some folks were too scared, but a large number of us agreed. We waited for our moment. And sure enough, one night those men had a big old shindig, and all got well and truly drunk. We gathered up the supplies we squirreled away, and stole off into the night. Never returned. I hope that—" Her voice breaks again and she brings one hand toward her mouth. She still hasn't met Ellie's eyes. "I hope those we left behind fared okay." Her voice is quiet.

"You did what you had to," said Ellie. Surprised at the surety in Ellie's voice, Eilene does meet her eyes. "For you, and for Maedlyn."

"Well… you're right. I had no choice. Little M, she was only 13. She barely understood.

"After that, it was tough times, but in a different way. Fortunately there were those among us who knew well how to survive out in the wild, and they taught the rest. We foraged, others hunted. We avoided people and infected alike, after Paisley. It was hard for me," her voice breaks again, "not knowing if we would ever have a permanent home. And we lost some, along the way.

"Now and then we'd settle in a location for a few months, even a year, but one thing or another always drove us on. And then we found Jackson.

"When I saw what I saw, I was terrified; terrified they wouldn't let us in. That we didn't have enough to offer. But Maria, bless that woman, she was generous. She told me I'd have to get my hands dirty. Which seemed ominous at first, but she was being literal." Smiling, Eilene displays her fingernails, and Ellie can indeed see traces of dirt under them. "Farming seemed practical, since I'd done much of it. She pegged me right, though, pre-outbreak I'd have preferred much… cleaner work. Now, though, I truly enjoy it. Those greenhouses are like little cathedrals, if you know what to look for."

Ellie pinches her brow. Cathedrals? She must really not know what Eilene is talking about. "Um… thank you for sharing all that. I appreciate it."

"Oh, you're welcome, Ellie." Just like that Eilene has adopted her earlier manner. The emotions must still be there, though, under the surface. "There's no fun in remaining strangers with everyone, that's why I'm so social. And do help me eat more of these cookies, I'm becoming worried I'm going to eat them all." She makes a wary face and gestures around her midsection and hips.

Ellie laughs, and takes another cookie with little chunks of chocolate in it.

"Now that I've spilled my guts, Ellie, I have been wondering—" Eilene is interrupted by a knock at the door.

Eilene is displeased for a second, then a smile spreads across her face. "One moment, dear." She rises and moves to the door. When she opens it, Ellie's heart jumps when she sees Maedlyn's face.

"There's a face I like to see!" Eilene bubbles happily. She pulls Maedlyn into a hug.

"Hi, mama," Maedlyn says into her shoulder. "You know, you really should go easy on that Lavender oil." Looking past her at who's sitting on the couch, Maedlyn's eyes go wide in shock.

Eilene lets go and Maedlyn tries to recover herself. "Well, come on in, sugar. As you can see, I have company. Tea's up!"

"Indeed you do." Maedlyn gives Ellie a sharply questioning look, to which Ellie just shrugs. What could I do?

Maedlyn glances at her mother and seems to get it. She sits down in the chair between Eilene and Ellie. "Well it's a regular party, now."

"Almost!" says Eilene. "Ooh, I love this! Should we put dinner on? That could be fun! Oh, but it's a bit early. Ooh, I can put on some music! Just one moment." Eilene gets up and practically prances over to a record player by the wall, fiddling with it. Ellie notices she's wearing heels.

"Did she interrogate you?" Maedlyn whispers.

Ellie looks over, and her heart jumps again and the proximity of Maedlyn's face. Ellie's nervous, and pretty to the wind in this situation. For now, Maedlyn seems to be on her side. Ellie tries to keep her cool.

She weighs her hands. "Not really. I think she was about to, though."

Maedlyn gestures between them and mouths I rescued you.

A classic, orchestral track starts playing, soon joined by a man's voice singing in big-band style. Sounds like it's from the 50s or 60s.

"Count Basie and the New Testament band," explains Eilene as she returns. "My daddy's favorite. I feel so blessed to have it. Had to trade Annette my best pair of earrings, though." Eilene chews her lip in genuine discomfit. "In any case! M, baby, Ellie and I have just been getting to know each other. How's your day? Work treat you alright?"

"It's fine, mama. Not too busy."

"No rude comments?"

Maedlyn looks off for a second in exasperation. "No, and if there were, I'd rather not revisit them."

"Well, you just let me know. Not too late for me to give that Elmo character a talking to." Eilene takes another dainty sip as Maedlyn pours herself some tea. "No chile Colorado today?"

"Not today, and—oh, you're impossible! Every time I bring it, you relish it, then get after me about always bringing you fatty food!"

"Now, I'm not sure about that, I—" Eilene is interrupted by the phone ringing. "Oh, I bet that's Agnes. From Paisley!" she pips at Ellie, to her surprise. That catches Maedlyn's attention, too, brow knitting. "I really gotta get that, hold on now!" With that, she hops right up and bounces back to where a wall phone hangs by the kitchen.

"How many phone calls has she gotten?" Maedlyn asks dryly.

"Just that one, so far," Ellie replies.

"It'll probably be a while, then."

"Oh, Agnes! I was hoping you'd call." Eilene's voice carries all-too-well from the rear of the house. "You know who I ran into today? That Ellie girl! Maedlyn's friend! Oh yes, that's the one!"

Maedlyn visibly blushes.

"Oh, no, she's lovely! And I mean lovely."

"Okay, well," says Maedlyn, "maybe we should just—"

"Yeah," says Ellie, now blushing as well.

They gather up some things from the table and Maedlyn leads them into the dining area. She moves a sliding door closed, shutting them off from the living room and dampening her mother's voice.

Maedlyn sets down her tea, and when she sees Ellie brought the whole cookie tray, gives her a little smirk.

"What?" says Ellie. "She asked me to help finish them."

"I suppose I can contribute," says Maedlyn, taking the last jam sandwich.

"Your mom told me you love those," says Ellie.

"Because they're the best."

"They're awesome. Your mom is a good baker."

"She is," says Maedlyn, "but I made these."

Ellie's features slacken. "You did?"

"So how did she nab you?"

"Huh?"

"How did she get you here? Or did you hunt her down?"

"Hunt her down?" Ellie asks, taken aback. "No, no, I was just at the market… I, like, saw her over my shoulder, and her hair, and you know…" She trails off awkwardly.

"And you thought it was me," says Maedlyn with a little smile.

"For a second, yeah."

"With all those curls everywhere?"

"I mean, that was my first clue it wasn't you. Her hair is awesome, though."

Maedlyn looks down. "Oh, certainly. I've always preferred to shape it myself, is all."

"You're really good at it," says Ellie. "How did you do it today?"

Maedlyn gives Ellie a look that says she knows she's trying to get away with something, but she supports her hair at the nape of her neck and turns so Ellie can see. It's all drawn back toward the nape of her neck, like the other day, but this time it's braided vertically into a column maybe five inches long, lustrous and vibrant.

"It's great." Ellie's voice comes out a little dry.

"Thank you."

"Who taught you?"

"Lacey." Sadness touches Maedlyn's features then. She looks up. "She really told you about Paisley?" Maedlyn chews her cookie, but her face has grown serious.

Ellie considers. "I asked about where you guys came from… I could tell it… brought up some bad memories. I said we didn't have to talk about it, but then she just started going."

"Mm."

"Do you remember it?"

Maedlyn's brow pinches, then she takes another little bite. "Of course."

"It sounds like it was really nice."

At first Ellie think she's imagining it, but then she can see there are tears forming in the corners of Maedlyn's eyes. "It was."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"What else did she tell you?" Maedlyn asks.

Ellie's preoccupied with the thought that she had just caused Maedlyn pain, but she tries to put that aside and think. "I mean…" She shrugs. "Just all the stuff you told her about me."

Maedlyn freezes up.

"Wow," says Ellie, smiling. "You told her that much?"

"Oh you—" says Maedlyn, covering her mouth with one hand, still chewing. "You little shit. That was slick. That's supposed to be my move."

"Guess you need to work on your game."

"You know, I—"

"You two are really cute."

"Excuse me?"

"You and your mom. When you hugged at the door. It was really nice to see that. And I get—" Ellie smiles, then laughs. "I get why you like having your own place."

"Oh, you do?" says Maedlyn dryly.

"But it's just really nice to see that. Family, like that." The humor drains from Maedlyn's face. "Intact."

"Well, we're not wholly intact."

"Are you talking about your dad?"

"Yeah," Maedlyn replies quietly.

"Is he off limits?"

Maedlyn considers her. "For now, yeah."

"Okay." Ellie fingers her locket. "Can I show you something?"

Maedlyn's act drops a little. She's curious. Eager. She nods.

Ellie reaches under her hair and unhooks the clasp. She reaches over and lays the locket and chain in Maedlyn's palm.

"It helped me," says Ellie, "out there."

Gently, Maedlyn unlocks it and opens the clasp. Anna stares up at her from the slightly faded photograph. "Oh, Ellie…"

"Her name was Anna."

"What was she like?" Maedlyn asks.

"I never knew her," Ellie replies. It's a shock to Maedlyn, she can tell. "I inherited her diary, though. She was amazing. She was really strong. She protected her friends. She never gave up, even when things were really bad, after the outbreak."

Maedlyn is frowning at Anna's picture. At the wrongness of it all, maybe.

"What about your daddy?"

"Never knew him either." That moves Maedlyn so much Ellie has to look away. "He… from what little I know, he wasn't as strong. But I suspect he had more to offer than he wanted to admit."

"Is that so…"

For a reason she can't quite name, Ellie feels uncomfortable, then. She looks at the locket. Maedlyn clasps it and returns it to Ellie, who dons it again.

"Who's your family now," says Maedlyn, "if I may ask?"

Ellie considers.

"Just Dina?"

"No," says Ellie, "not just Dina. There's JJ, of course. And…"

She can feel her warm hand against her cheek, that look in her eyes.

I love you, girl. And I'm not the only one. Don't forget.

"And Maria," she stumbles. That familiar, cold feeling wells in her chest again. "And a couple of other people who aren't with us anymore." Her voice is tight.

"Oh, Ellie," says Maedlyn, reaching out and squeezing Ellie's hand.

It feels really, really good, and Ellie is thankful to her. "I treasure the ones I still have."

"Yeah," says Maedlyn. "Me, too."

The heavy blanket of mourning settles over Ellie's shoulders for a moment. "And I treasure the ones I lost, too."

"Oh…" Maedlyn's brow furrows.

Ellie thinks of May's warm eyes, and the way she had held Ellie's fingers, not long ago. "And there may still be room for more."

Maedlyn's lips part, but she doesn't say anything.

Ellie thinks about Clint again, and the idea pops into Ellie's head all at once. "Um… You know, there's this thing, I still have to do."

"Oh," says Maedlyn, sitting up. She retracts her hand with… reluctance. "Oh, okay."

Ellie kind of doesn't want to leave, either, but she feels like she's ahead at the moment. She glances at the door to the living room. She can still hear Eilene talking animatedly on the phone. "Uh… should I climb out the window?"

Maedlyn smiles. "Oh, no, don't do that. Tell you what, just go out there, real casual, grab your things, and open the door. She'll try to stop you, but she will not hang up the phone. So just pay her a compliment and go."

Ellie smirks. "Tried and true?"

"Most definitely."

Who dares, wins.

Ellie stands up, slides open the door, grabs her basket off the entry table and opens the front door.

"Oh!" exclaims Eilene. "Ellie, oh, just a moment, dear—"

"Thank you so much for the tea and cookies," says Ellie, "your house is beautiful."

Eilene does an anxious little dance, some combination of flattered and displeased, but she will not let go of the receiver. "Oh, thank you, dear. Now, you will come back soon, right?"

"Definitely," says Ellie, and with that, she closes the door.

Ellie runs her hands over her jeans. Ever since she first thought of it, in Eilene's dining room with Maedlyn, she'd been determined. She knew she needed to do it, but now that she's here, she suddenly feels nervous.

Clint's 'house' is a trailer down on the East end of town. Small, but amenable. Cozy, not unlike her garage. It's a faded blue with steps leading up to a plain white door.

Ellie looks around. The neighborhood is quiet. She can see Mrs. Lowdry walking her dog in the distance, but she's walking away. No eyes on her. Now's the time.

She does the only thing she can do in these situations, she shakes it off and starts moving. She climbs the steps and tries the door. A lot of people in town never lock their doors, since theft is rare, but Clint is not one of them.

Ellie reaches into her pocket and pulls out her lock picking tools. The lock is not particularly good, and she throws the bolt in less than thirty seconds. Still, her hand hesitates before grabbing the knob. She grabs it, pulls the door open, and closes it quietly behind her.

The blinds are all drawn and it's dark inside. It's faint, but Ellie can smell it. The smell of Clint, in the air. She starts drifting into a dark place, a colder place. But she did not come here to cry. She has all the time in the world to do that at home. She reaches up and flips on the light.

The first thing she notices is that he's not very good at decorating. There's a tidy kitchen with a toaster and small fridge. There's a floor lamp and a beat up brown recliner, a little stand and TV in front of it, and a small, rickety bookshelf stuffed with books next to it. There's a long dresser with a mirror in the middle. There's a wood carved bear on it. Next to his well-made bed with plaid covers, there's a little side table with a lamp and an alarm clock. The sole piece of frivolity is limited to the water damaged but mostly intact Def Leppard poster on the wall.

Other than the layer of dust over everything, it's super clean. He seems to have liked to keep things in order.

Ellie takes one hand in the other, brow pinched up. She questions herself. Is this a good idea? Should she be here?

She considers that she might be the last person Clint knows who ever will.

The first and most interesting thing is the bookshelf. She starts rifling through it. She finds a couple westerns, some fantasy. He has the whole Lord of the Rings trilogy, which is actually pretty impressive. There's a lot of noir fiction, actually, which is interesting. Then she finds a romance novel, and judging from the spine, he read it. She laughs, then she realizes it will never happen for him in real life. It feels heavy, after that, so she puts it back and stands up.

That's when she notices the pictures. She picks up the first one. It's Clint and his mom, taken after they got to Jackson, before she died of illness. They're smiling really big. Maybe they're just happy to be alive and safe, finally. She puts it back and pictures up the other one. It's him and May. May's shorter than him, but he's sitting down, and she's resting her head on his with a loving smile. He's smiling too, but there's a reluctance, like he's embarrassed or something. And if Ellie is any judge, there's more sadness in his eyes.

She puts that one down, and wanders over to his bed.

The night stand has a cabinet in it. Ellie crouches down and opens it. There's a pile of random junk in there. So you do have a messy side. There are boxes of ammo, a jar of long-molded cookies, scissors and small tools, a couple beanies… Come on, Clint, where are the porno mags?

When she gets to the bottom, she finds a leather-bound notebook. Seeing it makes her feel something in her chest. She picks it up and looks at it, but she doesn't feel like opening it right away. She puts it on the bed, closes the cabinet door, and sits on the plaid covers.

That's when she notices the picture. The overhead light is dim in this corner of the trailer. She reaches over and turns on the lamp next to the bed.

The picture had been turned all the way sideways, facing the bed, in line with the pillows. Ellie picks it up.

She's probably fifteen, but she's tall, and thin. She's got blue eyes and long, straight, dark hair, all the way to her waist. She's smiling and her teeth are a little crooked. She's got strong cheekbones. Her smile is big, but her eyes are slightly narrowed, like what are you looking at? She's pretty. She looks strong. Ellie strokes her thumb over the girl's cheek.

A tear escapes and Ellie brushes it away. She puts Bev back on the nightstand, like she had found her.

She sits there in silence for a little while. Finally, she sighs, and she picks up the journal. She opens it to the first page.

I don't want to do this, but Mom said I have to. He capitalized mom. She flips a couple pages, not wanting to, but needing to. Seems like he started it after he got to Jackson. She stops when she sees Bev's name.

I love you Bev and I don't care what you said I'd do it again in a minute I'd do anything to change

Ellie's face screws up and another tear escapes and she lets it. She lets some sounds escape with it, turns around and lies on the bed, back to the light. She holds the journal closed for a minute, then she opens it again and turns to the last entry.

Can't catch Ellie for the life of me but we could leave any day now. Fucking girl, I hope she doesn't plan on bossing me around the whole time. Won't take long, she'll see how capable I am. Already did.

I guess… I guess the point is to write my feelings here, that's what Mom said, if I don't do that, I'm not getting much done. So I'm nervous. I spend a lot of time outside these walls, but this will be different. This is The Road. I remember The Road, and it's not kind. Ellie, she seems tough as a motherfucker, though, so between the two of us, we can do it. It's not like before. We've got both the tools and the experience. This won't be clinging to life, it will be professional. I like that.

So, yeah, I'm scared. But I'm also fucking excited. Ellie and I are gonna go off to make a cure. That's some history shit. Who knows what we'll see out there.

The other thing is… The other thing is May. She knows, and I can tell she doesn't like it. It's weekday clockwork, me in her shop. And I know it means more to her than she lets on, just like it does for me. I like that she makes it easy like that.

God, I love her so much. I really ought to tell her that. Maybe when we get back.

Book's been open for a while. Guess I'm not ready to shut it. I'm in a dark spot again. I wish there was someone I can tell, but who wants to hear that? What it feels like, to be the only one left in your family. The man, watching the women he loves die.

And every time, I come back to that. My reminder. I still have May. Nothing ever gonna happen to her. Jackson will make sure of that, and I'm part of that assurance. Me. I will not let go of that.

Ellie lets the book fall shut and she pushes it away and pulls the pillow into her face. There's no one left to be mad about her crying on it.