Two things happen the day before Emma is set to take her GED.
One is wholly positive.
The week before, Emma has casually asked Suzy during lunch if she knew where she could obtain a fake ID.
"Planning on boozing it up once you pop mama?" The older girl asks slyly.
"It's not for me" Emma says, annoyed. She really has a hard time grasping that Suzy's two years older than her. She doesn't have a care in the world and Emma feels like she's lived a thousand years.
But Suzy indicates, that she does indeed, know. And with reassurance that her source is "the real deal", Emma gathers Neal's info on a card, along with a picture taken against the correct color backdrop that she could find and hang on the apartment wall.
Which had led to a very odd conversation.
He had insisted on altering the spelling of his name, and adding a middle name.
"Yeah, I never thought "Cassady" looked right anyway" Emma said. "Want to change your birthday too?"
"Make it January 25, 1979"
"Feeling young today?"
He laughs "I didn't join the group home until I was fourteen. Stayed two years before bolting, it all kind of blurs together after that. Seasons aren't even really a thing in most of California."
"Or here for that matter" Emma had adjusted to the heat, but the Florida humidity was going to kill her. "I'm not used to having to fake younger. The rule was always..."
"21 or bust" Neal knew that rule well. Eighteen was well and good for not getting caught and tossed back in the system, but twenty one meant there was almost nothing you couldn't do. Except for renting a car, which neither of them could have ever afforded anyway.
Emma feels a stab of sympathy. He'd been on his own, really on his own, so much longer than her.
"I can't believe you can't remember your own birthday."
"I know it was in winter. It was always cold and snowy, we always had to build a big fire. I don't think it was close to Christmas. But I haven't celebrated at all since before I was ten. Either we had no way to or no one cared to".
And again, she doesn't push it.
She really should someday.
And after adding his height, weight, hair and eye color, Emma has the information sheet ready to give Suzy.
It only takes Suzy a week to get it to her. It's a good one too, Emma can tell. Correct hologram, no bleeding ink, and she was careful to provide a properly awful picture. No one's going to look twice at it.
At the end of the night, she gives it to him and he's ecstatic. He says that while she's taking her test tomorrow he'll have to drive back over and get a real library card.
He is the only man in the world who has to use a fake ID for that.
The other thing that happens is she slips out of work early to finally head to the doctor that Judy had recommended.
The clinic is tiny, with yellowing walls. The only other people in the waiting room are the bored looking receptionist, currently doing her nails, a nervous looking teenage couple who couldn't have been more than fifteen, and a woman well into her thirties with a cigarette in one rhinestone studded hand and the other pushing the handle of a double stroller.
Despite this, it still takes nearly an hour before the harried looking nurse calls her name. It seems like another eternity from when she's measured and poked and made to pee in a cup and put on an embarrassingly tiny gown to when the doctor actually shows up.
The doctor is younger than she expected, but still with the aura of jadedness about him.
She answers all his questions again, even the ones the nurse had already asked.
"Date of your last menstrual period?"
"I don't know, it was sometime after Christmas".
"Are you usually regular?"
"No, and I never have been" That she had been grateful for. Dealing with it in such cramped quarters with only intermittent access to bathrooms and showers had been her idea of true hell.
"Do you smoke? Do any other drugs"
"No"
"Do you drink?"
"Not often"
"Sexual partners?"
"Just the one"
He checks off the boxes on his sheet and then leaves again. Emma barely has time to get redressed before he comes back, the words come out his mouth as "You're definitely pregnant" before rolling into a list of instructions.
Emma barely hears the instructions though.
Three little words and that was it, her life was going to be permanently changed.
The doctor must have noticed her head-in-the-clouds face because he looks up from the paper.
"If you're interested in learning about options for termination, I'll have to get another set of paperwork..."
Emma's insides seize up inside of her and she barely manages to sputter out "No, no I'm not considering that."
The doctor nods "Glad to hear that, you're honestly better shape that many of my patients".
Emma snorts, glancing down at herself in her worn work clothes and shabby shoes. "You're other patients must be hopeless cases then".
"The last young woman I examined is having her third child, and she's barely seventeen years old. She dropped out a year ago and hasn't kept a job in months. Her parents kicked her out so she's living with friends. Trust me, you're much better off".
Emma opens her mouth, but no words come out. There's really nothing to say.
The doctor tears a slip of paper, adding it to the stack of instructions.
"This is a prescription for prenatal vitamins, Take them, and follow all the instructions the best you can. If any problems come up, come back in or call 911. You're far enough along to get your first ultrasound done today, but the tech's off" he laughs bitterly "as you can probably tell we don't get much funding. I can schedule you for one next week, if Friday works for you again"
Emma thinks for a moment, and says "yes, that should be okay".
"Good. You should bring your partner with you, this is a pretty big milestone for a first pregnancy".
She nods tersely.
The doctor hands her the stack of papers, and as she stands up, reaches to shake her hand.
"Take care of yourself kid".
Emma takes the papers and ducks out as fast as she can. She gets one last glance at the doctor before she leaves, and is again struck by how old and worn he looks. Her gaze turns instead to the tiny, yellowed walls and the noises from the waiting room and she guesses she understands.
She fills the vitamin prescription on her way home, and steadies herself to lie, for a while more at least. The pill bottle is fairly large, so she slips it into the glove compartment, figuring she can keep it in her locker at work until she finds a safe spot at home.
She goes through the motions that evening, eating dinner, studying for her exam tomorrow, trying to pretend that her entire world hasn't just been turned upside down.
It's dark outside, and they're both cuddled on the couch, Neal with her practice book open in front of him, idly playing with her hair.
"The balance in Tisha's checkbook was $1219.17. Since then she has deposited her latest paycheck of $2425.66 and written checks for $850.00 (rent), $235.89 (car payment), and $418.37 (credit card payment).
What is the current balance in Tisha's checking account?"
"Can I work where she does?"
"Not an available answer"
She grabs the legal pad off the arm of the sofa and write a couple things down. Math she can do. Math requires no value judgments, so hidden agendas.
"$2,140.57"
"Correct!" Neal exclaims dramatically, rewarding her with the tip of his tongue teasing her earlobe.
She lets herself enjoy it, if only as a way to distract herself.
"Did you ever think of going for it yourself?" she asks.
"Becoming an accountant?"
She smacks the top of his head. Smart ass. The kid better not inherit that. Shit, she can't be thinking that way already can she?
"Taking the test yourself"
He goes quiet. And Emma's known Neal long enough to know that quiet, serious Neal is probably thinking things that they're both trying to avoid talking about.
Finally, "could we afford it?" comes out of his mouth.
He has a point. The tests, all subjects, had cost her almost four day's wages to sign up for. They had been optimistic of their wiggle room then. Now Emma knows otherwise, and she guesses Neal has realized the same that she has.
"Hey" she says softly, nudging him with her shoulder. "We can save up. You have as much right for people to know you're smart as I do. You've helped me study so much it shouldn't be hard for you at all."
Emma leans over and presses her lips to the sensitive spot under his ear.
"We could both practice some hands on biology now".
Neal tosses the test book on the floor unceremoniously just in time for Emma to knock him on his back and pin his shoulders to the couch.
They can't keep doing this forever, Emma thinks, as her hands gleefully peel off his shirt, they have to actually talk about it. There are things that clearly scare them both, and they keep finding ways to avoid it.
But tonight is not the night that that will change.
The next morning is hot as ever, and the sky is full of clouds as Neal drives her to the testing center. It's at an adult school, a tiny building at the end of a suburban development across the street from a park with a set of hiking trails.
Neal leaves Emma at the front, with her bag, ID and their utility bill for proof of residency, and says he might explore the park a little but he'll be back in an hour or two, well before she should be done.
And then, Emma is alone.
The whole center is cold, air conditioner cold, and she regrets the thin top she picked that morning, expecting the relentless heat the had been suffering through. The woman who takes her info is bored looking, with short coppery curls and an open romance novel on her lap.
Before Emma knows it, she's sitting in a room with another similarly bored proctor in the front, and a pasty boy a year or two younger than her who looks decidedly more high strung about the situation than her. The desk she's sitting at must be from an elementary school because the cold metal bottom is pressing into her thighs. The proctor hands out the first section of the test, and Emma takes a deep breath, picks up the provided number two pencil and starts.
English is first, the science and history, before finishing with math. Emma's glad for it, because by the last section her brain is mush and with math there's no tricky emotional wiggle room, she just needs to double check that she's writing things down correctly.
Math doesn't leave much room for her to ruin things by thinking about them.
And when the sun is just beginning to get high enough to shine through the tiny window, the proctor tells them to put down their pencils and hand in their papers.
Neal's sitting outside drawing when she finally steps out. The clouds have broken, and the sun has yet to start boiling the world alive.
"Are you done?" He asks, seemingly as nervous as she.
"Twenty minutes for the results" she replies.
They both lean against the car doors, Emma pretending to look at Neal's drawings, but too damn nervous to really look.
If she fails, it will be months before she could save enough to take them again without guilt. By that time the baby may have already come.
When the proctor comes out to get her and gives her her sheet of results, she can hardly breathe.
English 165
Social Studies 154
Science 168
Math 174
Emma clamps her hand over her mouth to muffle her yelp of surprise. All passing scores, math passing with honors. She spins around and hugs Neal tight, to the amusement of the proctor.
"Your diploma and paperwork will be mailed within a few weeks and if you need proof of score before then, have whoever it is call the testing center and give them your info".
She's still on cloud nine when they get back to the car.
"There's a Waffle House a few blocks from here, want to get lunch then I can drop you off and go to the library?"
She nods, then bounces her way into the front seat.
Neal's proud. More proud than he really should be over an eighteen year old being able to prove that she has the same amount of knowledge as pretty much every other eighteen year in the country. But he did teach her a lot, and she supposes he has a right to be proud of that.
He doesn't even make fun of her for paying the fifty extra cents to get both strawberries AND peanut butter on her waffle.
"It's like a PB&J but in waffle form!" Emma insists, scarfing down another bite.
When they leave, Emma asks a question.
"Does the library you go to have internet access?"
"Yeah, but you need a card to login".
"Can I come with you today? There's some stuff I want to look up" Emma is as surprised as he to hear the words coming from her mouth.
Neal cocks an eyebrow "GED make you want to turn your life to academic pursuits and leave this all behind?"
"There's some stuff I want to look up."
He takes another bite out of his cheeseburger, and says "Sure, but I've been known to take a while there".
"That's fine, there's gotta be something to do there."
When they're driving back across town, Emma begins to wonder maybe if she's crossing a line. That maybe Neal considers the library HIS place, and that she's intruding.
The library is a small, beige painted building a block away from a Burger King. It's surrounded by a surprising number of trees and across the street from a depressing back of an industrial park.
Inside it's surprisingly warm and homey. Low lighting, lots of squishy chairs.
And Neal is in his element it seems. He's all charming smiles today. The librarian at the desk, a young woman with dark hair, greets him warmly.
Emma might be a touch jealous until he introduces her and the woman follows with "Ah, we've heard so much about you". Her name tag reads Diane.
She stands and looks around her as Neal fills out the paperwork. The floor is small, with a few scattered tables among the bookshelves that are on every usable section of floor, which is itself flattened and faded. There aren't any windows, but the lighting is soft. It's inviting, like Emma originally thought, but definitely has the look of a staff who have to make do a lot.
Neal nudges her. He needs the utility bill in her purse for proof of address.
When Diane finishes entering the blank card's number into her computer and hands it to Neal, Emma asks her where the public computers were.
"Oh, they're in the hallway by the door that opens to the children's library, bring that with you I'll show you how to log on".
And so Neal goes about his business being bookwormy, and Emma sits down at a terminal that even she can tell is outdated. But the internet powers up just like she remembers it did at school, and soon she's searching for the things that she needs.
She doesn't want to have to come back for anything, so she copies and prints out more than she probably needs. Swathing the stack into her bag, she goes to find Neal.
"Are you done?" she asks when she finds him in a stack.
"Not even close" he replies, not even looking up.
Emma wanders the stacks herself, trying to find something to entertain herself. They're eight feet tall easy, and between the stacks and the lack of windows, Emma's beginning to feel trapped. It's so quiet too. Emma's heard all the "be quiet, this is a library!" jokes before, but it feels unnatural to her. The whole room feels far too small.
She hits up the mystery section, finding a series she's read before and picking up one she hadn't yet. She laughs at the back cover. It even takes place in Florida.
She can't stay in this area, it's too much for her. And so, with a glance at Neal back in science fiction, she leaves and tries to find a place across the hall in the children's library.
The difference between the two really was almost like night and day. Almost literally, the big, sunny room is decorated with murals of the sky, from dawn to twilight. While the adult section had no windows at all, this room has a floor to ceiling glass sliding door leading out to a small deck with chairs.
The noise level is different too. Whereas the other side had been lifelessly quiet, this one was full of life. Kids jabbering to their parents, to other kids, a young woman in one corner reading aloud to a group.
There's a little girl at one small table sitting with a book with a cauldron on the cover. She can't be more than eight, the book is so big that she can barely hold it up. But she's transfixed, her eyes never moving from the page.
When her mother comes to get her, she clutches the book to her chest, seemingly afraid that someone might take it. Emma's chest tightens. Any child of Neal's would probably love books as much as he did, she can just seem him taking him here on Saturday afternoons and coming out with huge stacks..
Stop thinking that way Emma, she tells herself. Stop getting ahead of yourself.
There's a group of the same comfortable chairs on the side, presumably for tired parents. Emma takes up a space in one of them and opens her book.
She's actually a decent way through it when Neal finally comes to find her.
"Finally, I was about to fall asleep in this chair".
"They are great for napping", Neal remarks, "Hang on, before we leave I want to show you something".
He leads her out into the hallway, and down to the end. By the door leading to the bathrooms, there is a large bulletin board on the wall, covered in fliers.
Emma stares. There's everything. Community events, library events, stuff for sale. And a handful of fliers of people looking for workers to do odd jobs. Babysitting, lawn work, help with building.
Neal tears off a phone number strip off one.
"This is why I come here so many times a week. I've gotten something like four jobs from these already. I wanted to post something advertising my services, but I couldn't print it out without a library card".
"OK, you win, being a book geek does have it's good points" Emma teases as they walk to the front desk to checkout.
Emma doesn't tell Neal about what she'd been looking up, and to his credit, he doesn't ask. But that week she made more phone calls than she ever had in her life. She was on hold innumerable times. She begged Barb, the HR manager, to let her sneak in the office and use the fax machine during her lunch hour.
But it's worth it when she hears the overworked woman on the other end tell her that all her documents are in order, and that all she can do is wait and see how it goes.
She would probably be nervous, but there's so much else going on that she hardly has time.
The summer barbecue season is in the upswing, and the lines at work are ridiculous. Emma comes home every night exhausted, with her feet and back killing her and barely the energy to eat, shower and sleep. Neal's managed to wrangle two jobs doing yard work that week, and he's not home either day when she gets home. She's in bed, mostly asleep by the time the sun has set and he gets back, takes off his shoes and curls up behind her, arm thrown lazily over her middle, seemingly not noticing the subtle swell of her belly.
And that too.
The ultrasound is on Friday afternoon. She tells Neal she's going to try to hunt down a new fan since it's been so hot, and takes the car to drive to the clinic again.
There's a longer wait this time. Long enough for the baby faced ultrasound tech to look haggard by the time she gets to him.
"This will feel a little cold" he tells her before squirting the clear blue gel on her bared stomach, that at almost four months, she thought would be bigger.
The swirling black and white image on the screen means nothing to her, even when the tech tries to point the parts out to her. He tells her it's a boy. It doesn't really mean much to her, but then he puts the Doppler on too, and she hears his heartbeat for the first time.
She tucks the print out into her purse, and knows what she has to do.
When she gets back to the apartment, it's just started to cool off. Neal's occupying his usual hot summer day place- flat on his back on the kitchen floor with a book open in front of him.
"Hey" he says, not really looking up, "Tried to turn on the stove to cook dinner, nearly died. Want to just go get burgers instead?"
"Sure, that sounds great".
It's a top down night, and the Sonics is crowded. When they finally get their food, Emma catches a sight out of the corner of her eye. The next car over is a teenage couple who barely look old enough to drive. They're not quite making out, but doing that excessive-touching-stupid-gazing thing that still held the power to make other people in the area uncomfortable. There's a little boy in the backseat, the girl's brother from their shared dark hair and skin, and just when the girl finally leans over to plant one on her boyfriend, he leans up and tugs on one of her braids.
It makes Emma's heart ache.
When Neal reaches into the bag to hand her hers, she reaches out and touches his hand.
"Hey... do we have to go home just yet? Can we just drive around for a while like we used to?"
Neal looks at her like he sees the something behind her eyes, but holds out his fist for their old ritual.
Rock, paper, scissors, for who drives (he wins).
Flip a coin for who picks the music (she wins).
The alt rock on the radio doesn't seem to suit the evening. It's beautiful out, clouds tinted pinky orange against the darkening blue sky. It's warm enough to have both the windows rolled all the way down. The swamp jasmine, that floral scent Emma remembers from the first night, is strong in the humidity, mixed with the occasional barbecue smoke.
"I miss this" Emma admits, feet up on the dashboard, head lolling out the window a little.
"This place was our home for so long", Neal replies, "did we ever get the Coke out of the floor mats?"
"I'll hose them off in the sink tomorrow, or we'll probably get some exotic Florida bugs in here".
"It's a good thing we didn't go too far south. If we lived in the backseat here we'd probably die. Die or melt".
There's really not all that much to look at. Houses, apartments, strip malls, gas stations. They pass the public pool, it's all lit up. SUVs parked in their drive ways next to perfectly manicured lawns.
"Kerouac wrote about this in the book I took my name from. About the freedom of the open road, only stopping when you wanted to, making you're own expectations. It's a lot less romantic when you've lived it."
Emma lifts her head to look at him, his face is once again inscrutable.
"One of these days I'm going to catch you off guard, and you're going to finally tell me your real name".
He shakes his head.
"It doesn't matter now. I'm Neal, and that's who I'm always going to be."
The stars are out now, even though there's still a touch of brightness to the blue sky. They've reached the edge of a park area with a small lake.
When the moon comes out, they're parked and have both stretched out on the hood. There's light from across the late, a late summer campfire. The moon is three quarters full, and shining off the surface of the water.
Neal points to one bright star in the distance, "That's the north star. Sailors used to say that if you just followed it you would always end up home".
"What if you didn't live north?"
"Well clearly all the sailors who said that did."
Emma watches him go on about the other stars and constellations, rolled onto her side, hand supporting the side of her face.
He's just said something about Orion's belt when the words "I'm pregnant" tumble out of her lips, softly, and without her permission.
But apparently loudly enough that Neal's head snaps to the side to stare at her, colliding inelegantly with the metal of the car hood.
For a moment all that comes out of Neal's mouth is "Ummmm" but then he manages "with a baby?"
Emma rolls her eyes so hard her head follows them
"No with a dolphin".
The next is more "ummms" followed up with a "wow".
"OK, I'm glad no one's ever called you the articulate one in this relationship!"
There's some more wordless movements of his face before it stills. The next thing he says comes out almost as traitorously as hers.
"Where are we going to put it?"
"I don't know, we'll get a crib and keep in the living room I guess? And it's not an it, it's a he."
Neal's face softens immediately. "You already know?"
Emma reaches down into her open window to pull up her purse. The sonogram image is folded right on top.
"I got this done today. It's a boy. I'm due in early December."
Neal stares at the image for a moment. Then he rolls over, landing square on top of her to squash her into a full bodied hug.
She yelps, and he jumps back.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't hurt you two did I?"
She starts laughing, "We're fine, the doctor says short of falling down stairs my body's actually very baby safe right now."
Her face freezes.
"Baby safe..."
Neal gets it immediately.
"All of our outlets are exposed!"
"The tub floor is super slippery"
"What if he gets into the bottles of paint thinner"
"We don't have any paint thinner"
"Yeah but we might"
Emma sits up and hugs her knees.
Neal asks, finally, "why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I don't know...I guess I told myself it couldn't be true at first...then I was scared that you would be mad. Then I thought maybe you'd be so happy you wouldn't see straight and would be all rainbows and sunshine everything-will-be-perfect-and-easy from now on and I didn't think I would be able to think straight myself..."
"Are you kidding? Babies are soft and helpless and easy to break. And when they get older there's a million ways you can fuck them up."
Emma tucks her head "I haven't even though about him getting older. I'm still stuck on the whole I'm going to have a kid this time next year thing."
Emma slides her shirt up, and runs her hand over her just barely enlarged stomach.
Neal sits up next to her, and wraps an arm around her.
"I am you know? Happy." he studies her carefully, his hand gently joining hers. Her skin burns at the contact. "Are you? Happy about it? Because if you're not...if this is something we need to talk about..."
"No" Emma's snaps immediately, then continues softer. "God knows we have our problems, but this kid...he's ours. He's barely the size of a lemon right now, but he's still ours."
She stares Neal straight in the eye. "He deserves a home and a family who loves him. We may not have much but we have to try. We have to give him his best chance."
Neal nestles his face into the crook of his neck. "Damn straight he does."
They stay there like that for a while, just staring up at the stars.
"I really hope we don't break him the first day though".
Emma tapes the sonogram to the front of Neal's notepad then they get home that night. All the dreams they have now are bound up in him.