Kailor: Hello! Sorry for the large break between uploads, so here's an extra long chapter to make up for it!
The rest of the week passes quickly. Apparently every middle-aged person in Barden has to have their dog groomed before mid-September, so Chloe is kept so busy she doesn't even notice the weekend approaching. Fortunately, though work is bustling, her morning sickness seems to have taken some time off. Except for a few somewhat queasy mornings, it's pretty normal.
After work on Friday, she heads over to Beca's place. They'd agreed it would just be easier for Chloe to come sleep over so Beca could borrow her car in the morning to pick up Aubrey and Stacie. She has much more space for their friends to stay anyway.
Beca's house is one of the other things Chloe had fallen in love with about Barden. It's a beautiful, two-story brick and stucco with a wide backyard that is half basketball court and half in-ground pool, a patio that's perfect for barbecues, and long flowerbeds along the covered front porch. Three bedrooms, three baths. A small office, which Beca turned into a home studio.
When Chloe had first started hanging out here, it had been not only Beca's place, but also Stacie and Amy's. The three of them had filled the space pretty well on their own, but then–once Beca befriended Chloe and their friend group grew–it had quickly become their go-to party house through college and beyond. Though it may have looked idyllic and quiet outside, many a wild college night had been spent within these walls. There's still a faint imprint of Stacie's shoulders in the wall of the downstairs hallway from her and Beca's drunken wrestling match their junior year. Beca had said it was simply evidence of her clear victory and Stacie claimed it meant Beca could never truly get all trace of her out of the house. Chloe's pretty sure they still argue about it sometimes.
These days, the front yard–which used to be identifiable by the marks in the grass where Amy parked her car and Stacie's collection of wind chimes lining the front porch–is almost picturesque. The grass is neatly cut and the flowerbeds are filled with bright red, purple, and yellow flowers buzzing with butterflies and hummingbirds. It just looks so cozy that Chloe gets giddy every time she comes over.
Just looking at the outside of the house now, nobody who had met Beca would suspect this is where she lives. No, the outside is Benji's baby. Beca had hired him a few years ago just to keep the grass cut, but he'd fallen so in love with her uncle's flowerbeds that Beca had eventually just given him full control of them. He still comes over a few times a week to pull weeds or to cut the grass, and he periodically adds new potted plants to the front porch. Beca pays him way more than he asks for and she pretends not to care what her yard looks like, but Chloe has definitely overheard some spirited discussions between them about whether or not the camellias would look better next to the front steps than the Cherokee roses.
Today, Chloe is especially happy as she pulls into Beca's driveway, because the rain that's been erratically falling all day had faded off as night approached, but it left a rainbow that cuts behind the house and its perfect, magazine-worthy yard. Chloe stops her car at the head of the driveway to take a quick picture and send it to Beca. "Omg look," she adds. "A rainbow pointing to your house!"
Beca's response comes a few seconds later. "It said, gay this way."
Smirking, she texts back, "Oh I was gonna make a joke about you being small and Irish…"
This time, Beca's response is immediate, and it's just a gif of Cam from Bones telling someone, "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave the building."
Chloe snorts and taps the remote hooked to her visor. The door of the two-car garage opens and she pulls in. Beca's bike is parked to one side, a few tools scattered about beside the front wheel and a rag hanging from one of the pegs.
Just as she's turning off her car, the inner door swings open and Beca hops down the two stairs to meet her.
"Car trouble, Miss?" She's already dressed in the outfit she wears while working on her bike–an old, torn pair of black cargo shorts and a grease-stained, sleeveless blue shirt. Her hair is tied back in a low ponytail and Chloe can see the edge of the flowers tattooed along Beca's right shoulder peeking out of her shirt.
Chloe hums, sweeping her eyes over Beca's outfit and biting her lip. "If I say you look insanely sexy in that outfit, do I get a discount on this brake job?"
Beca crosses her arms, which Chloe is certain she knows makes her arms flex in a way that is far too attractive to be fair. "We might be able to work something out." Her eyes twinkle playfully and Chloe grins. Beca can deny it all she wants, but Chloe knows she's super excited to have Stacie and Aubrey back home and it's made her progressively more playful and hyper the last couple of days.
Chloe ducks into the backseat to grab the two boxes Beca had texted her to buy. "The man at AutoZone asked me if the guy fixing my car wanted anything else."
"What did you tell him?"
"I said my wife was fine with just this." Giggling, she passes over the boxes and leans in to peck Beca on the cheek. "You always look so cute when you're about to get greasy. My tiny mechanic."
"That is your second reference to my lack of height in as many minutes. I suddenly want a divorce."
Chloe just laughs and heads over to the cushioned chair at Beca's workbench. Her usual seat when she watches Beca work on her bike. She pulls her knees up to her chest, letting the chair spin slowly as Beca drags her fancy hydraulic jack over to the car. "Can I help?" She always asks. Beca always says no. It's tradition.
Beca, popping Chloe's trunk, says, "I'm not really up to having a car dropped on me today, so no." She reaches in and pulls out the 4-way Chloe's dad had placed there the very first day she got the car. "Unrelated, but similarly annoying, Stacie has been snapchatting me every time she finishes packing a bag."
Chloe laughs because she's been getting some of those snaps as well. "She's excited to be moving back! Aren't you excited your best friend will be back in town?"
"I like Stacie best at a distance."
"Well, I'm excited," Chloe says, ignoring Beca's blatant lie. "I'll be able to just go and hug Aubrey whenever I want again!"
"Remind me to make sure you don't get a key to their new place." Beca grunts as she uses both hands and one foot on the 4-way to break the lug nuts loose on one of the back tires.
Chloe idly watches the muscles in her arms ripple. "I have a key to yours and I've never broken in just to hug you."
Beca turns to stare at her, deadpan.
"Okay, once, but I had a bad day!"
Instead of answering Chloe's protest, Beca just drops down on her stomach to place the jack. In no time, she's lifted the car up and finished removing the back tire. She rolls it over to lean against the wall. "You know. I did some research."
"Oh? I thought you were already a brake changing expert."
Beca rolls her eyes and picks up one of the boxes Chloe had bought. She plops down, cross-legged, before the empty space where the tire had been. "I am. I meant on having kids."
That's a surprise. Childbirth really sounds like the kind of thing Beca would plug her ears to not hear about.
"I read it's best to wait until after twelve weeks to tell people."
Chloe nods thoughtfully. She already plans to ask her OBGYN about it when she goes, but that makes sense. "Are you saying I should have waited to tell you?"
"No!" Beca looks up, frowning. "Other people. I'm not other people."
Laughing, Chloe decides not to mention that Beca has somehow already gotten a smear of grease on her chin. "You're not other people," she confirms. "You're my favorite people."
"I better be." Beca sniffs haughtily. "Hand me that ratchet set behind you."
Chloe spins the chair and grabs the requested toolset, passing it off. Beca turns back to her work and Chloe watches. Beca's really quite beautiful and Chloe has always enjoyed watching her do the simplest things. She thought once that she was going to grow out of it after they had spent some time as friends, but she hasn't. Years later, she still catches herself studying the way Beca opens doors, puts clothes on a hanger, ties her boots. "I have an appointment next week. I'll bring it up then."
"Mm. Flathead." Beca drops the ratchet into her lap and holds out an expectant hand. Chloe plops a bright orange screwdriver into it. "Do you need someone to go with you?"
It's not at all the question she expected and it fills her chest with a vibrant warmth that leaks into her next word. "Really?"
Beca stops whatever she was about to do with the screwdriver and looks up. Probably surprised by the softness in Chloe's question. "Yeah," she says, just as soft. Then, shrugging, she says, "I can remind you that you're allergic to penicillin and keep you from being bored when we're inevitably left waiting in the room for thirty minutes."
Chloe drops her feet to the floor and lets the movement rock her forward out of her chair so she can place another, longer, kiss on Beca's cheek. "I would love some company," she says, nuzzling the tip of a reddening ear. "It's Wednesday morning."
Beca's breath shudders a bit and Chloe grins. Beca is generally a pretty unflappable person. Growing up with Stacie has desensitized her to most things, she says. But there's occasional moments where Beca is incredibly easy to fluster. Chloe loves finding those moments.
This particular moment ends as Chloe rocks back on her heels and Beca clears her throat. "I, uh, I bought the stuff for chicken and yellow rice. Why don't you go cook while I get this done?" Beca's voice echoes under the car.
"Aww, but then I can't stare at your muscles while you work!" She grins as the tips of Beca's ears, still quite red, darken even more.
"Gay later, please. I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry," Chloe sighs playfully, pushing to her feet. "But, as payment, you have to cuddle on the couch with me later."
Beca's jaw drops in outrage. "Payment? I'm literally changing your brakes right now!" she calls, but Chloe is already bounding into the house, giggling.
It's Beca's first alarm sounding from down the hall that wakes her the next morning. Avril Lavigne sings about how cold the night is and Chloe stretches lazily, humming along. The alarm cuts off soon though and she sits up. It's early, only four thirty, and her body is heavy and sluggish, but her brain could really go for some ice cream.
She wonders for a moment if this is her first pregnancy craving. She isn't sure when those start and she thought they were always weird things. Like pickles and cinnamon or something. Then again, she often wakes up wanting something sweet so it's unlikely.
Either way, she wants ice cream now. And usually she resists until a more appropriate time for desserts, but not today.
It's a special day. Aubrey and Stacie are coming home. She's too happy to deny herself a little ice cream. So Chloe slips out of the bed, pulling a robe from her overnight bag to put over her pajama shorts and tank top. It's her favorite robe, all satiny and pink. She ties it closed, running her hands over the arms as she makes her way out of the guest room that was once Stacie's, but has just become known as "Chloe's room" since she moved out.
She passes the stairs to the other end of the hall and peeks inside the master bedroom.
Beca is still out, face down and spread diagonally across the bed. The comforter is twisted around her hips, leaving her back bare except for the straps of her sports bra. By the hall light, Chloe can see her hand is resting on the bedside table, next to her phone.
Chloe smiles. Even asleep, Beca's adorable.
She leaves her there, knowing Beca's other two alarms will do their job. She pads downstairs to the dark kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes. It's well known that she's a morning person, but not this early. Her body is almost begging for more sleep, but she knows it wouldn't happen even if she returned to bed. She's up now and will be for a little while at least.
It's okay though. Ice cream will make it better.
The overhead lights are too bright for her right now, so she switches on the dim bulb above the stove instead. Getting a bowl also sounds like too much work, so she just grabs a spoon and the already half-empty pint of Butter Pecan that Beca keeps stocked specifically for her. She flicks on the coffeemaker and settles into one of the bar stools.
The first bite wakes her up a little more. She savors it, the spoon still in her mouth as she looks around, slowly rotating on her stool. It's dark outside the windows, but there's a bit of moonlight spilling along the top of the piano in the far corner of the living room and over the dark marble countertops in the kitchen. It's so beautiful and open. Inviting.
It's a nice house. A great one, really.
So much more space than Chloe's tiny apartment that she'd once shared with Aubrey. They'd moved in their junior year at Barden and it had been tight living, but they made it work. Then Aubrey had moved away with Stacie after graduation and somehow the apartment seemed even smaller without her. Which is strange, because all those empty spaces Aubrey used to fill should have made it feel larger.
But she'd had the other girls, so she'd been okay. And now she's going to have a baby. The apartment has been great for just her over the years, but it's time to look into something different. Something like this. She could never afford a house this large on her own, of course. Beca could now, with her job, but she'd simply gotten lucky that her uncle left this one to her mom. Chloe could get lucky too. Get something with room for a toddler to run around. Somewhere she can mark her child's height on the door frame, like Mamma did for her. Somewhere with a good backyard.
Something more permanent than a year-long lease in a third-story apartment.
After they'd gone to bed last night (once sufficient couch cuddles had been paid, of course), Chloe laid awake and did a little thinking about the changes to come and made a few decisions. Some things are simple and obvious. Bigger place, more hours at work to boost her savings, baby supplies, doctor's appointments.
Other things are more worrying. She thinks of the hard edges of her coffee table with a frown. No matter where she moves, she'll need to do something about things like that. And lower cabinets. And stairs, if there are any. Oh, and she should check any fire alarms to make sure the batteries are good. She squints at the one on the ceiling of Beca's kitchen. When was the last time Chloe looked at hers? Ever? What if the alarm isn't even good anymore? Do they go bad? Where would she buy a new one? Walmart? Amazon? She'll ask Ashley.
Beca's second alarm goes off and Chloe forces herself to take a deep breath and stop stressing. There's plenty of time. She's not even telling the girls or her parents yet. Not until she's further along and been to the doctor. Plus Aubrey will probably already have plans for all these things, as well as fifty more she hasn't thought of.
She nods along to the beat of Fleetwood Mac's "Second Hand News", swirling her spoon through the slowly melting ice cream. The alarm takes a little longer to shut off, but she doesn't mind. She loves this song.
"I know I got nothin' on you," she sings as she slides from her stool to wander around the staircase to the downstairs hallway, tucking the ice cream tub against her chest. She passes the closed doors of the bathroom and the guest room that, until the beginning of this year, was Amy's. She reaches out to run her fingers along the very slight indentation of Stacie's shoulders in the drywall, then rounds the corner and flicks on the light.
There are a million little things that Chloe loves about the house, but this hallway is definitely her favorite. Not only can she loiter here and sometimes hear music being made in Beca's studio, which is at the very end of the hall, but this is where Beca keeps all her family photos.
The wall to her right is covered almost floor to ceiling with pictures of their friends. Chloe's own smiling face beams out from a good three-fourths of them. In one, she's side by side with Aubrey, the two of them squeezed into the same ugly Christmas sweater and grinning. Amy and Beca are visible in the background, tangled in a single sweater as well. Amy is laughing and lifting Beca into the air. Beca is midway through screaming for help. It was the same Christmas Chloe got her helmet and she only has to take another step to find the picture of her wearing it and riding on Ashley's shoulders.
Chloe grins, scanning more photos.
There's her, Lilly, Cynthia Rose, Aubrey and Stacie piled up in a patch of grass that would eventually be the site of the Bella Sol. Chloe is in the center, with Lilly laid across her lap. Cynthia Rose is lounging beside them, her Bulls jersey covered in grass. The other two are in the back, Stacie's arm over Aubrey's shoulders and big grins on both their faces. They'd just started dating that week and it's stupidly obvious how in love they already were. Under that one is a photo of Emily, Jessica, Ashley, and Flo on the beach. They were arguing about teams for a game of chicken and there's a cresting wave in the background that had soaked all of them a second after Stacie took the picture.
Next to it is a shot of the whole group, wearing pajamas and perched ridiculously on the dark blue couches in Beca's living room–most of them laid out on the cushions, Stacie and Emily crouching on the couch arms with sunglasses on as they point at the camera, and Cynthia Rose flopped over the backrest. Beca is straddling the ottoman in front of the couch, a beer bottle at her lips and her middle finger up. Chloe is standing behind her, chin resting on Beca's head. There are bits of pillow stuffing all over and traces of laughter in all their faces. Except for Lilly, who is dead center in the photo, with a deadpan stare that could rival any horror movie actress. Chloe laughs at it, like she always does, and takes another bite of her ice cream as she ambles further down the hall.
There's multiple from graduation. Aubrey, Stacie, and Flo in their honors sashes. Emily, from behind, as she takes a photo of Cynthia Rose in her green gown. Amy slapping Ashley's ass with her cap. Jessica trying to pull someone's tassel out of Lilly's teeth. Chloe wrapped around Beca, grinning into the kiss she's planting on her cheek.
Beyond those are scatterings of them all through the years. Cynthia Rose dealing cards to Amy and Flo over a pile of Cheetos and Doritos. Lilly perched atop a set of monkey bars with Aubrey hanging beneath her. Stacie, Ashley, and Jessica in Beca's pool, cheersing the camera with margaritas. Beca and Emily in the studio, talking through the glass. Chloe sitting on the very stairs she just passed to reach this hallway, her elbows on her knees and a happy laugh bursting from her. Her gaze is fixed just beyond the camera, where Beca and Stacie had been twerking behind Aubrey as she took the photo.
She finishes tracing their friendship all the way to the door of Beca's studio and turns to study the photos that line the other wall. The ones of the Mitchell family.
During the early days of getting to know each other, this side of Beca had been a shock. Beca–who Chloe had to befriend in much the same way one would an apathetic stray cat and who would often actively avoid her already-established best friends–had struck her as a small family kind of person. She'd mentioned a cousin, but the first time Chloe came over and gave herself a mini-tour of the house was when she realized Beca did not have a cousin. She had many.
Upon finding this hallway, Chloe had immediately begged for a detailed rundown and, to her utter thrill, had been allowed a brief explanation of every photo she pointed to.
This wall starts with a picture of Beca's mother, Ms. River, standing in line with all five of her siblings under an autumn-orange tree while their mother, Maw Petal, waves in the background. There's a wide range of ages–the oldest sibling nearly thirty in the photo and the youngest just turned ten–but Ms. River is easy to pick out, because she looks almost exactly like Beca. Longer hair and rounder cheeks, but it's unmistakable. She's got flowers braided into her hair and a tie-dye shirt on. That had been another shock, when Chloe eventually met Beca's mom. As alike as they are in looks, they had seemed worlds apart in personality.
Now that she knows Beca better, she knows that's less true than she'd believed at first. They're not total opposites. More like moon and sun versions of the same person.
The next photo is Ms. River with her arm thrown over the shoulders of a beautiful blonde with an infectious smile. Her best friend in the whole world: Ms. Christina, Stacie's mom. They'd grown up together, much the same way their daughters did. Beca sometimes says that's the real reason she can't get rid of Stacie, because regifting is rude. Stacie says it's because she knows all of Beca's secrets.
Chloe smiles around her spoon at the next photo.
There's Beca, just under a year old, with a wild tuft of black hair and an orange onesie on. She's sitting on a blanket spread on the floor, staring down at the newborn baby laid beside her. Young Stacie, the day she was brought home from the hospital. The only time Beca had been taller than her, as Stacie loves to remind her.
It must be true because just beneath that picture is one of them two years later. Beca's wearing a black bucket hat and looking very much like posing for a photo is the bane of her toddler experience, while Stacie is standing beside her with a wide, toothless grin, and she's definitely a couple inches taller.
There are a ton of photos filled with faces she can mostly recognize, though she hasn't met many of them yet. But Chloe takes a step back to pick out the ones that have Beca in them, watching her grow as they go. Beca in the park on her third birthday, holding hands with a little blonde Amy, who she'd just met on the slide. Beca at four years old, on her very first motorcycle–a Minnie Mouse one with training wheels and wooden blocks strapped to the pedals so she can reach–with Stacie and Amy piled on behind her. Beca at five, sleeping in the corner of a floral couch, her cousin Imogen reading a book beside her. Beca at eight, talking to her two-year old cousin Mackenzie the day she was adopted. Beca at nine, pushing her cousin Shannon off of his chair because he'd laughed at her when she tripped. Beca at fifteen, playing darts with her Aunt Bo.
Chloe will have to make a wall like this one day. As the only child of two only children, she's used to her childhood photos being just a few hung in her parents' living room and the rest living in albums on the shelf. But she likes this. The way she can almost read the story of Beca's life on these walls. Chloe wants that for her baby, because she had grown up with just Aubrey and her parents to be in her photos, but her child will have so much more. They're already guaranteed at least two godmothers and eight aunts.
It's startlingly easy to picture. Photos of a small, redheaded child sitting on the patio of Bella Sol or laughing as they're swirled around in Beca's pool. A toddler running around Aubrey's retreat or climbing the steps of Cynthia Rose's condo. Just imagining it all warms her chest so much that she half forgets she's eating ice cream.
She would happily spend the next hour just walking along, picking out Beca in each memory and daydreaming of her child's future, but "Galway Girl" starts ringing down the stairs, so she pulls herself away from the pictures and heads back to the kitchen to grab a mug from the cabinet. The ringtone stops and she listens to the shuffling and grumbling with a smile on her face. Poor Beca really likes her sleep. Chloe fills the mug with steaming coffee and drops one spoonful of sugar in. She takes it with her as she returns to her stool at the island.
Slow steps echo down to her and she spins in her seat, ice cream held to her chest, so she can watch Beca slump out of the dark. She shuffles toward the kitchen, into the dim stove light.
Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun and she's done little in the way of getting dressed beyond throwing on a blue hoodie that Chloe recognizes as her own. She'd been wondering where that was.
Beca stops when she sees her sitting there, her body swaying slightly. "I hate them," she rasps.
Chloe holds out the coffee mug. "I know. Here."
"Ugh." Beca takes it with two hands. "I love you." It's murmured into the mug and Chloe's pretty certain it's directed at the coffee, but she smiles anyway. Beca doesn't speak for a few minutes, quietly sipping with her eyes almost completely closed. She doesn't sit, which is probably wise. She looks like she's already in danger of falling back asleep while standing.
Chloe lets her wake up in silence, swinging her feet and nibbling away at the last of her pint as she studies Beca. She can see it now. How all those pieces of Beca that are framed on the walls added up to this woman she loves so much. Her best friend in the whole wide world. The sweetest, most caring, and talented person she knows. It's beautiful, really, seeing the puzzle all put together.
The minutes pass with Beca unaware or uncaring that she's being stared at. She finishes her drink and moves over to drop the mug in the sink. She sighs. "Okay. I should go. Text you when I get Her Majesty and the court jester." Her salute barely makes it all the way to her forehead and then she turns, padding over to the garage door.
Chloe watches carefully as she digs into the key bowl and is completely unsurprised when Beca pulls out her own keys. "Beca," she warns. "Car." She puts on her best stern expression.
It works. Beca drops the keys back into the bowl with a huff and grabs Chloe's instead. "Fine." She yanks her jacket from the hook, pulling the door open.
"Hey!" Chloe sits up straight, dropping her spoon into the tub and leaving it on the counter. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Sometimes she thinks teasing Beca really is an addiction. Or a compulsion, maybe. Inevitable and irresistible.
Beca stops and her hands drift to her pockets, patting at them. She frowns, arms falling to her sides. Her jacket slaps against the floor. "No?" Beca eyes her suspiciously as she rises, crossing the room in a few large steps.
Once they're face to face, she stops. A thrill dances through her veins as Beca squints at her. Chloe grins and taps one finger against her cheek expectantly.
It's hilarious how quickly Beca's face can go from suspicious to shocked to (playfully) annoyed. She rolls her eyes. "You are so needy."
"Thanks!" She's giggling and leaning away when Beca steps in.
The kiss is quick and light against her cheekbone, barely a touch at all, but it sends a shock through her system so strong that she gasps.
"That should hold you over for a few hours," Beca says with a smirk. She throws on her jacket, pulling the hood of Chloe's sweater out of it, and backs out of the door. "Needy."
The door snaps shut, leaving Chloe gaping at it, fingers hovering over the tingling in her cheek.