Author's note: Hi All, sorry for the delay between postings. I got sick for a week, then I was busy at work after coming back.
To make it up to you, I'm posting THREE chapters today. Since I'm trying to do about one a week.
I hope you enjoy. And as always, all types of feedback are appreciated in the comments most of all.
Thanks for reading!
Two in the afternoon, and Ellie's day has improved a lot.
Last night had been hard. Even after talking with Barthas she'd gone home and been so angry she couldn't sleep. She just kept breathing, trying to breathe through it. But she'd also kept imagining pistol whipping Wyatt in the back of his fucking skull.
She started before dawn today, doing a little clean up just to take her mind off of things–and make it look like she made good use of the time in case Maedlyn came over. Then she'd taken a ride on Barthas which had been good for both of them. She thinks he could sense her tension. He kept giving her these looks over her shoulder. She knows he hasn't forgotten last night. Horses are too smart like that. Heart smart.
He's already gotten more comfortable with her. He lets her stroke him and brush him fine. He's not as much of a softy as Eddie, but he's not all all piss and vinegar either. He's attentive to his surroundings. They were passing under some trees and she saw a squirrel. She stopped him, to see how he'd react. He eyeballed it for an instant but that's about it. She'd just smirked to herself. Then he looked over his shoulder like 'what gives?'
She'll have to be sure to run him regularly. He's too good at it. And he's gotta burn up that energy somewhere. Shouldn't be too much of a chore 'cause riding him is a thrill. That was the first thing that put a real smile back on her face today.
After she'd shown up at Maedlyn's, Ellie found she wasn't mad at her at all, which was a relief. She had little reason to be; Ellie's fear was probably more a sign of guilt than anything.
She's gonna have to come clean with her, but not just yet. Thinking about Lyle again makes Ellie's stomach turn still.
She occupied herself making Barney's quiche for both of them–always a hit. They'd spent some time with the chickens out back–the girls, as Maedlyn calls them. They'd also spent a little while with Ellie reading Maedlyn one of her romance novels.
It took Maedlyn a long time to convince Ellie to do this. But she does have her ways. Now it's a semi-regular habit.
Ellie's even learned to put a little flair on it. "Roberto puts the mustang into neutral, and leans on the windowsill, his his hard, bronzed forearm glowing in the sun. 'Hey there, sweet thing,' he says, that one lock of glossy black hair falling by his eyebrow, 'miss me lately?'"
Ellie laughs in her throat. Lord.
"Don't stop!" says Maedlyn, who'd been biting her finger.
"'You wish, Beto!' she says in her sassiest tone. Roberto chuckles. 'Hey,' he says, gesturing to the passenger seat, 'how 'bout a ride?' 'A ride, huh?' she asks. 'I dunno, it's a bit early and I've got some chores to tend to.' 'Chores!' he says with disbelief. 'When you could be flying down the PCH?' 'Well, when you put it like that…'"
Ellie looks up and Maedlyn just has the most maddening expression on her face. She looks away, sucking on her lips to hide her smile. "What?" Ellie asks.
Maedlyn knows she gets self conscious about this and will do just about anything to make it happen more often. "Nothing, hon', I'm just appreciating your craft."
Ellie shakes her head. It's true, once she's been reading for a while she loosens up and she finds herself saying certain things in certain ways that she never thought she would. She's about to start reading again when she has a thought. "It's the girl voice, isn't it?"
Maedlyn tries to deny it but immediately starts laughing.
"It is!" says Ellie. "You always laugh when I do the girl voice!"
"No, it's…" she keeps laughing. "Oh, I'm just too happy, is all."
That moistens Ellie's eyes a bit and she almost has to bite her own smile. Well… she can probably read a bit longer.
Then Maedlyn's phone starts ringing.
They both look at it. It's not unusual, and there's only one person it could be.
"I'll get it," says Maedlyn. "Don't worry, I'll keep it brief."
Ellie gives a look like 'good luck with that.' Her mother calls all the time, and she is a talker.
Maedlyn scoffs, picking up the receiver. "Hello?" Her expression immediately changes. "I'm sorry?'
Ellie's brow knits and she looks up. That does not sound like Eilene.
"No, well it's quite alright," says Maedlyn. "Mm hmm. Oh, I see. Well, she is, yes."
Ellie sits forward in her seat. Is someone asking for her?
"Mm, well, I s'pose, if it's business. I know, well… it's no trouble, sir, I'll have her go right over, okay? Okay, bye now."
Ellie speaks as soon as she hangs up. "Who was that?"
"A man by the name of Tony, says he's with those men from yesterday." Maedlyn stands there with her hand on her hip, a little displeased. "Said you two had some unfinished business you were speaking of yesterday evening?"
Ellie frowns up at her.
Maedlyn cocks an eyebrow. "Some trade or another? Said you should discuss down by North stable today before you lose the chance all together."
Ellie has a feeling she was not talking to Tony. Since she couldn't even put a face to him.
"Yeah," she lies easily, rubbing her nose, "I didn't think he'd go so far as to look me up out here, but we were talking about a trade for some gun parts."
Maedlyn's eyebrow is still cocked. "Well, that sounds terribly important."
"Well, kinda, Mads, these things are rare to find out there. And he'll give me a way better deal than I'll get down at Reginald's."
"So you're gonna go now?"
Ellie's already grabbing her stuff. "I'm afraid I better. Hey, we're still on for dinner at Abby's tonight."
"Oh, we better be," says Maedlyn, scooping up the novel off the side table where Ellie left it. She looks at the cover and gives Ellie a little pout.
It's punishingly cute. "Don't pout, babe," says Ellie.
Maedlyn pouts harder. It was cuter the first time, but that doesn't stop Ellie from leaning in and giving her a kiss.
"We'll continue later, okay?" says Ellie.
"Okay," says Maedlyn.
"And you'll be the first one I show my new toy."
"Oh, Lord, I can't wait."
Ellie isn't left wondering for too long, because by the time she turns of Mason Street and comes within sight of North stable, she sees Lyle standing by the side of the road.
He's leaning against the fence, watching the horses in the fencing. They're out for their daily free time. Ellie looks and sees that Barthas is among them. He's trotting around with a couple of Bays, looking energetic, as usual. Are they competing or something?
Lyle's looking at her by the time she turns back at him. "Didn't waste much time."
"How did you call me?"
He shrugs. "Just asked a guard."
There's phones in all the guard posts. "Alright, well how did you know where I was?"
"Just talkin'."
Wow. So much for her privacy. She stops a few feet from Lyle with her hands in her pockets. She should be angry; she was half-ill all night with anger. She barely slept. But that's not what comes to mind.
Lyle's got a wide-brimmed hat on, sensible in the summer sun. Still he squints at her in the hot afternoon light. He's got light-colored eyes, like her.
"Were Anna's eyes green?" she asks him. She could never tell from the tiny photo.
He shakes his head. "Gray. The green is mine. Come on, now, let's play shoes."
Shoes? Horseshoes?
He starts walking up long the path through the stables, where indeed there are a couple spikes out back, to those who know.
"How did you find out about these?" she asks him.
He shrugs again. "Just talkin'."
He's talkative, she guesses. "Where's Wyatt?"
"Miss him?"
She scoffs.
He's a couple steps in front of her. His face twists. At first she thinks it's another sneer, then she realizes he's laughing quietly. First time she's seen it. "He don't make a great first impression. Unless you're pretty."
"Doesn't make a great impression either way, turns out."
That makes him turn around and look at her, and honestly she wishes she could take it back. He snorts. "Well, give him a little grace. He's known little but the road since San Antonio. He is responsible enough, if you know how to ask him."
"He threatened me before I left last night," she says.
That stops him. He looks over his shoulder at her. He nods. "I'll speak to him. Point is, he's wound a bit tight, is all. For protection." He eyes her. "Not unlike you, I suspect."
"I am not like that."
He cocks his head and she kind of wants to press the issue, but Lyle pulls a rack of shoes off the nail on the wood siding. He hands two of them to her. "Forty shoe game?"
"What's the stake?"
He frowns, then he kicks the steel spike sticking out of the dirt next to them.
"No, what's the stakes of the game?"
He snorts softly. "Well, what do you got, missy?"
She doesn't like being called missy but not enough to protest. "Winner gets a question the loser has to answer."
His eyes twitch. "I don't like that at all."
"Sounds good to me," says Ellie, stepping over and tossing a shoe. I glides high through the air and slaps the dirt several feet from the opposite stake. It slides and collides with the steel spike with a clang, but if she's seeing it right it bounced off a bit.
"Careful," says Lyle.
At first, she thinks he's talking about her wager or her attitude, but she follows his finger and sees she stepped a half inch onto the foul line.
"We're playing for stakes, after all," he says. He drops his long, tattered trench onto the pit wall next to them, then plants his foot near the foul line. She's getting a better picture of him than yesterday. He's actually taller than she realized. It's part of why he looks so skinny. He's probably close to six feet. He hefts a shoe, swings his arm once, then swings it again and lets it fly.
It hits the dirt a few feet from the stake an bounces no more than six inches before ringing the spike with a racket.
Ellie's mouth's open. She's actually never seen such a good throw, not even from Tommy.
Lyle's got a cocked eyebrow and a poorly hidden smirk.
"That was a lucky throw," she says.
He chuckles.
"I can see it all over your face."
"Well, I guess you'll find out, won't you?"
Ellie throws the other shoe, but it's a much worse throw than the first one and it ends up rebounding off the backboard, far from the stake.
"What was with that spook shit last night, anyway?" he asks her.
Spook shit? "What do you mean?"
He gives her an incredulous look. "What do I mean? I mean you sneaking up on me in the middle of the woods when I had my pants down, like a damn assassin."
"I needed to talk to you."
"You needed to talk–" he scoffs. "So's you sneak out of Jackson–you snuck out, didn't you?"
She considers, then nods.
"You sneak out into the country, middle of the night, creep up on an encampment of armed men and corner a guy trying to do his business. That not a little strange to you?"
"Yeah, it's strange," admits Ellie, "but all of this is strange, Lyle."
He cocks his head. "Truth to that." Lyle's second throw is not as miraculous as the first, but not bad either. "What if I'd shot you?"
"I knew where your hands were."
"You knew where my hands were." He seems to find it funny.
"What?"
"Nothing, Ellie. Just says a lot."
They cross to the other stake to collect their shoes. Lyle picked up four points; three for the ringer, one for next closest. Not looking great for Ellie's wager.
"You played this before?" Ellie asks him.
"Many times. Pre-outbreak."
"You a country guy?"
"Yes, you would probably say that. I grew up outside Summersville, West Virginia. Back in the 90s. Damn good times. Years didn't do much for 'em."
He gets into position to throw, since she went first last time. He's got long arms, too. Ellie's head only comes up to his shoulder. She frowns. "How tall was mom?"
Her stomach drops as soon as the word 'mom' comes out of her mouth. She's never said that to anyone before, and Lyle was not meant to be the first. She tries desperately to keep it cool.
Lyle tosses his shoe, and gives her a little look over his shoulder, but that's all. "Short. Like you."
"Wait," says Ellie, pulling his sleeve. She's eager to pass over what she just said. "She's not that short, right? I always imagined she was…" She holds her hand in front of her face, up, maybe five or six inches taller than her.
He chuckles. "No, she was short. Shit, probably an inch or two shorter than you."
"No way! I mean, I only have this one picture, and it's… not really good on perspective…"
Without asking, she holds up her locket and opens it for him, showing him Anna's face.
That he stares at.
Ellie's in no rush. She just holds it.
"You put that in there?" he asks.
Ellie frowns slightly. "No. Marlene did."
"Huh," he says. "That figures."
"Marlene didn't like you much, did she?"
"Fuck no."
"Was mom a Firefly?" she asks. She blinks.
Oh, my God. I just did it again. What's wrong with me?
"Ellie," he says in annoyance, "these shoes aren't gonna score themselves."
She screws up her lips, lines up and throws. This one was off bad. Didn't even get in the pit. He throws and she follows it. His first one was the closest by far. They walk across the field in silence this time. Ellie's thinking about what to ask next.
She bends down to retrieve her shoes. She turns around and makes the first throw. It's pretty wide again.
He throws and this one doesn't strike the spike. Looks far off. She throws too, and misses similarly. "So…" she says, "was she?"
He looks over. He's more receptive to the question now. "A Firefly? Well, not to my knowledge." He tosses his last shoe and it bangs against one of the other shoes before sliding to a stop in the dust. "She might have been, though, after I left. I was the main thing holding her back."
"You didn't want her to join."
"Hell no, Ellie," he looks at her like she was crazy. Then he thinks better of it. "Listen, and I appreciate that you were… negative one, at the time, but things were different back then. Worse even than now, if you can believe that. Bloodshed like you just wouldn't believe. I actually wondered if the Fireflies and FEDRA weren't out to finish the job that the infection began. Can't imagine a more dangerous notion, than going up against FEDRA in those days."
Ellie nods. Nothing he's saying is a lie. "I believe you."
"So yeah, I told Anna I wasn't gonna see no Firefly."
Ellie looks at the ground. She might have done the same thing. She looks down at the tattoo on her forearm.
Strange world.
"That why she was close to Marlene?" she asks. "She wanted to join?"
"No. She was close to Marlene because she was close to Marlene. They survived those early years together, I guess. Met shortly after the outbreak. They protected each other. Which is what I suspect Marlene was doing in telling Anna to dump my ass."
"She never did, though."
"No," he says. He looks at her expectantly.
She gets it. These questions aren't free. Her time is limited. She looks down at her shoe. Well, when you think about it, despite their wager, she's getting all kinds of free information out of him.
She bends down and throws it in a single swing. This one strikes the dust sideways and cartwheels all the way into the backboard. "Fucker…" she mutters.
He smirks, cocking his head. "Not looking great for you."
They set off again to collect their shoes.
"So you set off yourself," says Ellie. She has to say it. "When you found out she was pregnant."
He doesn't reply. Doesn't need to, really.
"What did you tell her?" Ellie asks.
"Well, you read my letter," he replies with little humor.
"I mean what did you tell her in person, the last time you saw her?"
He gives her a sharp look, and keeps walking. He spits into the dirt. "What does it matter?"
"I want to know."
"I told her something not entirely honest. And that's all you'll get."
"I guess it would be pretty hard to be honest," says Ellie, "at that point."
"You tell a woman what'll do well for her, Ellie." She detects some contempt in his voice. "Once you learned a thing or two. Don't go thinking you know me, or your mother, or women too well cause you read my fucking letter to her."
"What, you think of me as a snoop, or something?" she asks.
"Well, was it your business?" he asks.
"Of course it fucking is!" she says, a couple octaves louder than she meant to.
He cocks an eyebrow at her.
She's kind of embarrassed, and angry that she feels embarrassed. "Lyle, I never met you before, and I figured I never would. You may as well have been dead, you probably were. Why wouldn't I read it?"
"You wouldn't," he says, "not, read it. So. I don't blame you. But understand that doesn't mean just anything and everything is on the table for us to discuss."
That she can't really argue with. She looks at the dirt. "Yeah, okay."
"Get your shoes."
She scoops them up again–she picked up a point that round. It's her turn, so she bends her knees with the swing this time and lets it fly. This one does a backflip–a poor portent–but somehow lands flat and skids, one of the points bouncing off the stake. "Oh!" she says. Not a ringer, looks like, but very close.
"Yeah, okay…" he says, eyeballing it like he can repeat her performance. This time, he swings his arm up over his head and around with a flourish. The shoe spins around like a slow frisbee. The right side impacts the stake and it bounces into the dirt a couple feet away. Not close enough. He makes a sucking sound with his teeth. Guess he was going for a ringer. Wrong side hit the stake, though.
"So…" says Ellie. "I also know you were a smuggler."
This time he looks at her slow and steady.
She shrugs. "I don't give a fuck, man."
"Aren't you…" He works his lips. "A lawkeeper 'round here, of some kind?"
Ellie snorts softly, thinking of Abby's badge. "I wouldn't say that. And we're talking about the distant past, aren't we?" She throws her shoe, and it lands close.
"Yeah," he says, with a smirk she can't quite read. "Of course." He follows hers, and it looks like it knocks hers further away.
She furrows her brow, standing on her tip toes, trying to see better. He snorts. "What?" she asks him.
He just shrugs like she's crazy. "Nothin.'" They set off after their shoes again. "What do you do around here, Ellie?"
It's his first question about her life. Seems like it took him long enough. She can feel the tension on her forehead. She screws up her cheek.
Well, better than none at all.
"I'm a patroller. Lead." She looks up at the sky. Clear blue today, good sight lines. Blinding ass sun, though, she wishes she'd grabbed her hat. "Basically what it sounds like."
"Outside of town only, then."
"Correct."
"Infected, and highwaymen, I'd suspect."
Ellie laughs, furrowing her brow in disbelief.
"I'm sorry, that's funny?"
"Only the fact you said 'highwaymen.' What century are you from?"
He scoffs.
"Yes, Lyle. Except–because we patrol so heavily–you won't encounter many around here."
"Of either type."
"Of either type. You might–" She winces. She shouldn't say that.
But now Lyle is looking at her. So she says it.
"You might encounter some shallow graves, if you look."
"Yeah…" he says. "I bet."
She bends down and picks up her shoes.
"How close did we come to that particular fate?"
Ellie frowns, not looking at him. She doesn't like that question. "Well, you didn't shoot me."
"Should have, probably."
She's mid throw and she turns to look at him. "What?"
"Stranger rides up on you, out in the wild, what are you gonna do?"
Ellie stares at him for a long few seconds. "If they expose themselves without weapons drawn, I would not shoot." She looks back at the stake. She throws. "Otherwise, they're taking their life in their hands."
Lyle nods. "Life ain't been too gentle with you."
She looks at him.
"I can tell."
She shakes her head. So?
"Like to see how you handle a gun."
She side-eyes him. "Why?"
"'Cause I would."
There's a feeling in her chest she's not okay with right now. A feeling she stuffs back down.
They play for a while longer. Score's looking bleak for Ellie. She doesn't know what she expected, she's not that great at horseshoes. She guesses she hoped he'd suck.
The final shoe lands, forking over the stake. Its momentum carries it, though, and it spins and slides back off. Still close enough to land Lyle two more points.
"Well, let's see here," he says as if doing math, even counting on his fingers. He looks up at Ellie. "Looks like fifteen to seven. I count that right?"
She half rolls her eyes, nodding.
"Well, guess I take it, then."
She nods again, looking up expectantly.
He looks up at the sun. "Few hours yet. Bison's calling. You in?"
She frowns, tossing her hands. "Well, what's your question?"
"Question?"
"Yeah, the wager."
"Oh that? Well, guess you'll have to wait to find out."
"Huh?"
He's already walking away. "Didn't say when I got to ask the question."
She blinks. "So… you're just gonna hang it over my head?!"
"Oh, yeah. Choose your words more carefully. Coming or no?"
Ellie can't believe this shit. She shakes it off. "I… I can't, I got a dinner thing."
"Suit yourself." He really just keeps walking.
"Be easy, then." Asshole, she doesn't say.
She reaches for the hat she didn't bring then pulls her hand back. She sighs, and makes her way back to Maedlyn's.
Ellie got about a quarter of the way to Maedlyn's when she changed her mind and headed back to her garage. She managed to avoid getting stopped by anyone on the way there, because her mind is wholly occupied with a downpour of thoughts. She doesn't know what she's feeling, but she's got a frown on her face that's liable to give her a cramp soon.
She shuts the door behind her and doesn't waste any time. She gets her stepladder and goes up to the rafters. There's room for some boxes to be balanced on top of the beams. There's a lot of junk up there, not all of it even hers, which makes it a decent place to hide things. She moves a couple boxes with effort, since it's all above her head, and pulls out the gray bin she stashed back there.
She carries it down and places it on her bed. She stares at it for a minute. There's a reason she doesn't open it much.
She pulls off the lid and lays it on the bed. Sheaves of paper stare up at her. She knows each one by heart. Some are letters to and from her mother. Some are from Joel. But one, only one, is the one she's looking for.
She pulls up the bundle of letters and unbinds it. She pulls the one she's looking for from the back. She lays the rest down, sitting on her bed.
The paper is old, threatening to break along its creases. The writing is an untidy scrawl, but she can read it. She's read it a dozen times before. Aside from a tiny photograph cropped for her locket, kept carefully in her mother's journal tin, it's the only relic she's ever had of her father.
She reads it once more.
Babe, I know you're angry. You should be. But I told you when I met you that I wasn't cut out to be no dad.
Some of what I'm about to say you'd probably slap me for. I know you well enough. But since this is a letter, I guess I get to say it with impunity.
I always cared, Anna. In the beginning you would always call it an act, like I was playing you. And I've played before, but with you I always felt like the lucky one. I think you could tell, if you were being honest.
If I was your friend, or your brother, I'd have warned you off. Thief, smuggler, killer… but who isn't, these days. I never intended to stay in Boston long, and that's just one more strike against me. But you kept giving me reason, time after time.
I wish I could have gotten you out of there. Shit, if you'd have asked me I might have joined the Fireflies. I was starting to feel like that was going to happen, after Lila and Casey…
And then it happened. I'm so angry with myself. You may curse me for saying it, but getting you pregnant is one of my biggest regrets. That, and the look on your face when you told me, and you could tell how scared I was.
It's not responsible, anymore. I know, you said it a thousand times. 'Humanity's not over yet. Or why do I go to work every day?' You're right, and a lot stronger than me. But how can I take care of a kid? What kind of example am I?
The fact that I'm writing this letter is the proof in the pudding. I'm worth less than you think, whatever you say. A lot less.
And maybe I wouldn't leave if there was any doubt in my mind that you'd find someone to take care of you and the kid. Someone a lot better than me, most likely.
Shit, I'm not gonna go on about my feelings, that doesn't feel right, but just know this isn't easy. Not like the other times. Not with you. I meant what I said, how I feel about you.
The kid… I guess it's not my place… You can tell them whatever you want about me. But I guess, if I got to choose… I'd just want you to tell them that they might be the luckiest kid in the city, with the mother they got. And that, no matter what happens, when their time comes, hopefully a long, long time from now, they'll be able to look back on their life and at least know that they did a hell of a lot better than their dad.
But maybe that's cold comfort.
I love you, Anna. I'll be thinking about you for a long time to come. A long time.
Lyle Dunn
Against her will, moisture has welled in the corners of her eyes, again. She brushes them away with the back of her hand. Aware of herself, she looks around, and in the little window set in her door, she sees a familiar red head of hair.
Maedlyn shies away when Ellie spies her. She gives a quiet little knock.
Ellie answers the door in short order. Shen it opens, Maedlyn can tell Ellie is trying to look natural, but she can't hide her glassy eyes or her wrinkled brow.
"Hey, Mads," says Ellie.
"Hey," says Maedlyn, leaning in for a kiss. Ellie doesn't fight her, and in fact lets her in.
Ellie walks over to her desk. "I know I told you I'd come straight back, I just… I got a wild hair, I guess. I wanted to go through some stuff." She starts organizing the parts on her desk. Looks like her knife and cleaning tools.
Maedlyn closes the door behind her, and with Ellie's back turned, takes her opportunity to walk over to her bed, where the papers lie. "I understand, Ellie," she says.
Ellie must be lost in thought, because she's occupied with the items on her desk, her hands moving steadily and mindlessly.
Maedlyn picks up the page that Ellie had been reading. She reads the first line, and sucks in a quiet breath through her nose.
This is the letter Ellie told her about. From her father.
Knowing she's being bad, she starts reading, she can't help herself. She brings her other hand up to hold the page steady. She creases her own brow.
It's a sad letter. It confirms the things that Ellie had been telling her. And it tells her a couple more things. The Fireflies? She hadn't reckoned her family had anything to do with that.
Then Maedlyn hears Ellie's footsteps and looks up just in time to see Ellie snatch the page from her. "Oh! I–"
"Don't worry about it," Ellie says gruffly. Her eyes dart to the bottom of the letter, thinking. Then she tucks it into the stack of pages and wraps them up, putting them back of the box.
"I'm sorry, Ellie, I… just, it was laying there and–"
"Don't worry about it, Mads."
Ellie's mad. Which is very rare, with Maedlyn. About the only thing that makes her like that is when Maedlyn meddles in her past, 'prying' as Ellie calls it. Maedlyn bites her thumb. She really wants to read that letter.
"How can I?" says Maedlyn. "It bothers you so, and so I have to wonder. You've been melancholy again." She puts her hand on Ellie's upper arm. "I worry that you're keeping things to yourself."
Ellie's arm is tense. "Those are my letters, Mads. There's a reason I don't show them to people."
"I know. I know. You showed me some your mother wrote, though. And that letter…"
Ellie turns slightly toward her.
"It's the one you told me about, isn't it? The one from your father."
Ellie's breathing hard through her nose. She's scaring Maedlyn a little, like she might snap at her. Something she never, ever does. Ellie presses the lid back on the box. "Yes," she says finally.
"If I asked," dares Maedlyn, "would you–"
"No, and since I know you're going to ask…" Ellie leans on the lid of the box, as if to keep its secrets locked away tight. She exhales again, and rubs her nose. "It's because I… I don't know what I think about that letter, I'm not proud of it, and I'm not ready to share it." She looks up. "Not even with you."
Maedlyn's cheek twitches. Still secretive, after all this time.
"Okay?" Ellie asks her.
"Okay," says Maedlyn with some reluctance. "Can I ask one thing?"
Ellie looks at her.
"Can you just tell me his name?" asks Maedlyn.
Ellie stares at her for a long few moments. She's not angry, but she's reticent. Her eyes move once. "Roderick," she finally says. "Roderick Hopper."
It warms Maedlyn that Ellie would trust her like that, with just a little more of her past. She reaches up and strokes Ellie's arm, but Ellie turns away.
"Let's head back to yours," says Ellie. "It's gloomy here."
"Aren't you gonna–" says Maedlyn, looking at the box.
"I'll deal with that later," says Ellie. She puts her arm around Maedlyn's back and leads her to the door. "I have a chapter to finish for you, don't I?"
Something about this interaction feels incomplete to Maedlyn, but she can't say what and it doesn't seem like the time to argue. She smiles, thinking of them resuming their precious little session. "Yes, I believe you do."
Abby peeks in the oven one more time. The warm yellow glow of the oven light shows the lasagna just starting to bubble. Won't be long. It's Lev's specialty, more than anything she just wanted to smell it again.
"Looking good, Lev," she says.
This actually makes Lev frown. He'd been occupied chopping up lettuce for the salad, but he comes back to the oven to check it one more time.
"It's fine, Lev. It smells great."
He gives it a stern look. "Just checking."
Abby goes back through the kitchen door to check on their guests in the dining room, carrying an armful of plates.
Ellie and Maedlyn are sitting on the living room edge of the table, side-by-side. Abby smirks. Can't hardly separate those two, anymore.
"What?" asks Ellie.
Is she defensive? "Nothing," says Abby. She sets the plates down on the actual knitted placemats she got from Marty. Just the silverware and napkins left, then the food. Ellie and Maedlyn already have their slightly mismatched cups of water.
Abby's a little nervous, as always when they're hosting. It's hardly her element. Weren't a lot of dinner parties growing up in the Fireflies. Pretty normal in Jackson, though. And after being invited to four or five, she started shopping for serveware and matching napkins down at the market, something she never thought she'd find herself doing.
You wouldn't be able to tell unless you knew him as well as she does, but Lev's thirty percent frantic. So she's got to keep composed, for both of them.
"You two comfortable?" she asks.
"Oh, yes," says Maedlyn. She is in her element.
"Just slowly starving," says Ellie.
Maedlyn gives her a little disapproving look.
It nips at Abby, but it's actually the perfect opening. "Right, and what did you bring again, Ellie?"
That catches her off guard. "What?"
"To dinner?"
Ellie looks around. "Uh…"
"Aside from your happy ass, I mean."
Ellie gapes, splaying her hands. "My happy ass, I don't know, Abby! You didn't tell me to bring anything."
Abby shakes her head as if in disapproval.
Lev pops his head in from the kitchen. "You know it's bad karma to come to dinner empty handed, Ellie."
Ellie makes a sound of indignation.
Maedlyn shakes her head. "I can't believe you'd embarrass me like this."
Abby gives up the game and smiles, returning to the kitchen.
Ellie sighs. "I mean, I could bring a quiche next time, I guess."
"That's my favorite!" says Lev.
A few minutes later, the table prepared, Abby puts the bowl of cool, crisp salad down on the table and sits down. She's followed immediately by Lev carrying the steaming dish of lasagna between knitted gloves.
"Oh, I'm tickled," says Maedlyn.
Abby suppresses a chuckle. It sounds like a joke, but it's actually just how the girl talks.
Ellie leans forward to smell it. "Oh man, that looks good. That's basil, right?"
"Wouldn't be lasagna without it," says Lev matter-of-factly, sitting down. He forgot to take off his apron.
Maedlyn reaches for Ellie and Abby's hands automatically, then hesitates.
Lev notices. "Would you like to say grace, Maedlyn?"
"Oh, well, of course, I don't mind."
It had been awkward the first time—neither she nor Ellie grew up with any kind of religion—but it seemed to suit Lev and Maedlyn just fine, despite their prayers sounding very different. It's become a regular practice at their dinners.
Maedlyn offers a humble and heartfelt prayer as they all hold hands, with plenty of references to Jesus. Cracking an eye open, Abby notices Ellie quietly chuckling a couple times during the prayer.
She also notices Ellie stroke Maedlyn's fingers with her thumb as they release each other's hands.
Ellie reaches for the lasagna first, then catches Abby's eye, at which point she offers to serve Lev.
The lasagna is gorgeous. Lightly browned on top, layered immaculately so that the soft cheese and sauce don't mix until you cut it with your fork. Lasagna noodles soft all the way through.
"This is might be your best yet, Lev," says Ellie.
Lev is reserved, but if you know him at all you can tell it means a lot to him. "Are you sure? I was thinking I should have baked it a little longer."
Maedlyn makes a loud sound of approval from her throat as she chews. "Oh, it's fine, Lev, as always." She's using 'fine' in her way, which actually means 'excellent.'
"Well, thank you." Lev looks down. He has a hard time with compliments.
They started a little late, and they're all starving, so it's mostly quiet for a few minutes, but for Ellie pointedly offering Abby her own salad. Abby can't deny she drags her feet when it comes to leafy vegetables.
"So how did that horse trade go, Ellie?" asks Lev.
Ellie stiffens a bit.
Lev doesn't quite grasp the dynamic. He frowns slightly in confusion. "I mean, you were only talking about it long enough, I figured…"
"It went great," says Ellie. In fact, she reaches into her shirt pocket, and pulls out a picture, handing it to Lev.
Abby snorts. "You brought that with you?"
"I bring it everywhere."
She probably does.
"Oh, he's beautiful!" says Lev. He really means it.
"His name is Barthas," says Ellie, with a hint of pride.
"Barthas," enunciates Lev, "that's an odd match for this horse…"
"Well," says Ellie, cutting off another piece of lasagna, "maybe."
"He is a handsome devil," says Maedlyn, crunching on a cherry tomato. Ellie gives her a questioning look, and Maedlyn actually blushes a little. "And you know I don't say that lightly."
Ellie chuckles silently.
"Had any more incidents?" Abby asks.
Ellie gives her a look like why would you say that?
"Did something happen?" Maedlyn asks.
Ellie screws up her lips, fiddling with the food on her plate. "He's a bit grouchy is all," she says eventually.
"What, he bite someone?"
Ellie chuckles. "Not yet." She shoots Abby a look.
"He was nice enough to me," continues Maedlyn.
Ellie chuckles more. "Yeah… yeah he was." She chews, then continues with her mouth half full. "Janet says he does not like men."
Now Abby shoots Ellie a look. The one time she'd met Barthas, he had mean-eyed her the whole time, and had even snapped at her shoulder. "He doesn't like rider-types, I suspect." Abby looks down at her plate, lining up another bite on her fork. "Wonder he's taken to Ellie."
Ellie leans back, arms crossed behind her head, brows raised. But she doesn't disagree.
Abby chuckles in spite of herself. "You are so proud of that horse."
"And how much did he run you?" Maedlyn asks quietly.
Ellie's somewhat chagrined. "Babe, can we talk about that later?" She looks around for some way to change the subject.
"You have that survey tomorrow, don't you?" Lev asks nonchalantly.
That gets Abby's attention. "What?"
Ellie moves the napkin around in her lap. "Yeah. I told you about that, Abs."
Abby's forehead crinkles. "Yeah, you told me, but I didn't know it was tomorrow."
"The survey?" Maedlyn asks.
Ellie looks at her. She speaks casually, but in a lower tone, in a way Abby can tell is meant to reassure. "Yeah, down at the textile mill. Barely outside of town."
"And you guys come over here the night before?" Abby asks.
"Yeah," says Ellie, a little defensive. "We're not gonna stay all night or anything. And it can't hurt to have a nice solid meal the night before."
Now Maedlyn's frowning. "Now, you told me about this, but they way it sounds now it seems like a bigger deal than you let on."
"Well…" says Ellie.
"It's a big deal," says Lev in his matter-of-fact way, but not helping, "only experienced patrollers get to lead–"
"They'll be fine, Mads," says Abby, taking another bite.
Maedlyn looks at her sharply.
The rest of them do, too, and it looks like she'll need to keep talking. She chews and swallows. "With Ellie at lead, I mean."
The table is still quiet.
Abby tweeks her lips. "Look, Ellie's a joker, right?"
Ellie looks like she doesn't like that particularly.
"But she's dead serious on duty. I knew a lot of guys, girls like her in the Fireflies. WLF too." They don't bring that up often and she doesn't do it lightly. "She likes to keep it light off duty, but there's no one you can count on better when the shit hits the fan." Is that appropriate table talk? "All I'm saying. I've been out there with her. I know. They'll be fine."
Maedlyn stares at her, frowning and pursing her lips cutely in thought. "Well, that's all fine, but I didn't think this was such a big deal."
"It is and it isn't," Ellie says finally. "It's an important job, but if things go well, no shots will be fired or anything like that. Our job is just to check the scene, see what it's like. In this case, if we can reclaim the mill. If there is infected–"
A stretch, cause Abby and Ellie have both seen that decrepit old building and they know there almost certainly are.
"–then we'll report back and they'll send a larger crew over."
Maedlyn looks half-satisfied.
"Ellie's telling the truth," says Abby. Which is true, but she leaves out the hopeful nature of 'no shots fired.' "You can trust her."
Maedlyn looks one last time at Abby, the frown not quite eradicated. "Well, alright…" she says. She reaches down and squeezes her girl's hand. "You just be careful, alright? For me."
Ellie looks her in the eyes, lovingly, and nods.
Abby's the one uneasy then, though. Not because of that last part, because of right before, just before Maedlyn took her hand. Right after Abby said 'you can trust her.'
Why did that make her flinch?