Chapter Text
Beatrice takes another look at her notepad, trying to map the numbers written out to their location in the guest house.
“They all have to be at least thirty-six inches wide.” She tells the boy helping her find all that she needs. Beatrice is good with home repair - it’s not a speciality, but with enough time she can figure most things out.
This isn’t so much repair as it is remodeling, but still, she’s convinced if they would just let her handle this on her own she’d already be out of here.
Instead, she’s having to deal with Tom and his impressive lack of knowledge with the equipment at the place he works. He’s been wrestling with the woodcutter for the last fifteen minutes.
Though, to be fair to Tom, Beatrice has ordered six different sized ramps. “Okay, this will take a bit of time but we should be able to get this sorted.” He speaks with way more confidence than his nervous body language is showing. “If you want to go out and get something to eat or anything, feel free - we can call you when your order is ready.”
Beatrice isn’t about to leave Tom to his own devices. “That’s alright, I have a few more things to pick up - I can wait.”
“Great,” he also needs to work on his lying.
While making sure to keep him in her line of sight, Beatrice does actually have more she has to pick up. Suzanne gave her a whole list of accommodations that the new bookkeeper will need.
It’s not exactly normal for an employee to live on the ranch - outside of Beatrice who didn’t have a home when she arrived. However, with Suzanne gone so much, Beatrice basically runs the whole thing at this point.
Still, she can understand. If this new person has a disability, there’s no need for them to deal with the shoddy public transportation of their tiny little cowboy town.
So when Suzanne gave her the task, Beatrice was glad to help if only because it would give her something to keep her busy and indoors for the next week or so.
Summers here are vastly different than they were in London. It’s a dry, choking heat that can wear you down if you spend too much time under the sun.
Even in her fifth year here, Beatrice still hasn’t fully adapted.
Going through her list, she finds herself trying to picture the bathroom of the guest home and how accessible the toilet is as she picks out handrails to put on the wall.
They're on her list, and the measurements she made are written, but none of the options fit quite right.
“Fuck!” she hears Tom mutter under his breath and Beatrice turns to check on him - tipping her Stetson up just a bit to get a better look.
She watches him stare at his most recent cut, the loud, whirring woodcutter still running as he sighs and tosses the plank aside and starts anew.
Beatrice is going to have to slow her steps down.
“Hello, Beatrice.”
Or not.
Glancing behind her, she sees her neighbor Lilith’s head peeking over the aisle like an ominous redwood tree. “Good afternoon, Lilith.”
“Hmm, what brings you to the junction of incompetence?”
Okay, that’s a pretty good one. “I’m installing ramps in one of the guest homes on the ranch - Tom over there is cutting them for me.”
“Right,” Lilith glances over and Beatrice does the same, just to see Tom pressing his foot into the wall to get enough leverage to get the plank through. “Are you liable for this if he loses an arm?”
“No,” it’s a joke but there is a trace of genuine concern because he’s clearly out of his depth. “What about you? What brings you around.”
Lilith sighs so dramatically Beatrice worries she might faint. “The fence around our property is worn, I have an entire section I need to replace.”
“Ah, well if you’re here to get wood-”
“No,” Lilith glares at poor Tom who isn’t even looking at them. “No, I have wood. I need nails and a few spools of wire.”
Beatrice nods. Lilith lives next door to the ranch, as much as anyone can with so much property. Either way, she’s known her the entire time she’s lived in this town, their interactions have always been like this.
They're too alike, Beatrice thinks. They come from very similar backgrounds and live here for a lot of the same reasons.
They get along well enough, they might even be friends if Lilith would take a deep breath every now and then.
Though Beatrice doesn’t exactly put in the effort either. The tenuous respect they have now works just fine.
As she often does, Lilith ends the conversation without a word, just walks away and continues with her shopping.
Beatrice refocuses and picks out the handhold she wants and picks up a shower basket that seems high enough that whoever sits in that fancy bath bench she installed this morning should be able to reach their things just fine.
So much of this process for Beatrice has been making assumptions without making them seem obvious.
Suzanne gave her a brief rundown of what this woman’s condition is. Paralysis from the waist down, some dexterity and range of motion issues in her arms that vary from day to day. She’s mostly independent and apparently very good with a computer.
All Beatrice can assume about her is that she must be an old friend of Suzanne’s because her boss has been very hands-on with this entire process of her impending arrival. Which is rare these days now that Suzanne has taken a step back from tending the ranch.
If it’s important to Suzanne, then it’s important to Beatrice.
By the time she picks up everything on her list, Tom is still working on the second ramp of her order and Beatrice has lost her patience.
She catches sight of Lilith at the checkout, watching Tom with a smirk on her face - one that doesn’t change when her gaze shifts to Beatrice.
After Lilith gives her a wave and takes her leave, Beatrice plucks the hat off her head and sets it on a workbench next the woodcutter. “Tom? Do you mind if I finish these?”
Tom exhales, covered in sawdust and sweat and nods. “Fuck yes, please.”
Beatrice is loading the ramps into the back of her truck thirty minutes later.
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Installing the ramps proves to be easier than buying them, if only because she doesn’t have to deal with Tom.
The hardest one turns out to be the one that leads out the front door. It’s a short drop, but steep and the angle means that when the tires hit the back of the ramp, it flips up - which doesn’t seem particularly safe.
So Beatrice spends an hour fashioning a log to stick underneath the back of the ramp to keep it balanced, then drives the front of it into the ground.
It’s dug in fairly deep, long after this woman comes and goes, Beatrice thinks this ramp will still be here.
Setting up the bathroom proves more of a challenge. The showerhead has to be replaced and Beatrice has to install a wall mounted sink to give the chair room to roll up close enough to use it and see into the mirror.
She’s not an expert on accessibility design, so a lot of this is just instinct and the occasional live action test of sitting on a chair from the kitchen to check the heights.
Before she knows it, the sun has started to drift low in the sky and there’s still plenty of work to do around the ranch.
The next two hours are basically autopilot.
She gets to work feeding the cattle and tending to the sheep - the latter is more a job for Tiny and Bartholemew, the best shepherd dogs in town.
As the sun starts to well and truly set, Beatrice is exhausted and rounding up the last of the horses into the stable. She tucks her own, Dakota, into her stall before making her rounds to the others.
They don’t keep as many horses as they used to, the lack of consistent employees doesn’t leave the need for them.
As Suzanne has cut down her time here, she’s also cut down the work. Beatrice tends to most of it and Mary comes in four times a week to help.
Though with Shannon gone now and heading to the city, Beatrice thinks she’ll see less of her.
Thankfully Camila is always around - she should be here soon and hopefully with food. Beatrice is no cook and Camila is her best friend and personal savior - she makes a few weeks worth of meals for Beatrice a couple times a month.
As Beatrice makes her way to the end of the stable, she sees Halo standing tall with his head over the gate. “Hey grump,” she says, hearing him snort as she approaches. “Easy, I’m just bringing you dinner. God forbid anyone try to saddle you up.”
Halo was Shannon’s horse, her pride and joy. They were inseparable long before Beatrice ever showed up here.
Suzanne Superion uses Cat’s Cradle Ranch as both a place of business and a refuge. She loves to give people lost on their journeys a place to come and breathe free. To give them a chance to figure things out.
Beatrice hasn’t quite sorted out how Suzanne is able to find them, even as someone who was recruited herself, but she’s forever thankful for it.
But turnover happens and people come and go - just like Shannon who has gotten her life on track. She had to go to where her next step took her, but heading to the city meant there was no place for Halo.
So he stayed behind, much to his dismay.
Since Shannon left, he’s basically been unapproachable. Beatrice can barely get his feed bag on before he’s bucking in his stall.
“Alright, you enjoy that then, I’ll come check on you before bed - all of you!” Beatrice says to the room, her voice drawing a few whinnies and huffs before she leaves.
By the time she makes it back home, Beatrice can hear the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen as she closes the door behind her and hangs her hat up.
When she steps into the kitchen, Camila is pouring water into a pot and there’s already something sizzling on the stove.
“Phew, you look like you’ve run a marathon!”
Beatrice laughs, stepping over to the sink to wash her hands. “I feel like it,” she really is bone tired - it’s been a very long day.
She appreciates days like this though, days where she feels productive. It’s one of her favorite things about being here, not a day goes by where she doesn't feel useful.
Growing up being reminded over and over again how useless she was, fighting back against that feeling is something she craves daily.
“I’m not ruining any plans you had tonight, am I?”
“On a Tuesday? In this town? Please - the market was pretty busy, I think that’s the highlight of everyone’s night tonight.”
Beatrice hums, drying her hands as Camila plops a few potatoes in the pot. “Summer will be over before you know it, then it will be only locals around. Makes everything a bit more tolerable.”
“Yeah for you, I’m a teacher, my schedule is about to be work five days a week and grading half-assed papers at night - weekends planning lessons and ugh chaperoning dances.”
“You love it.” Stepping around Camila, Beatrice pops open the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water and a beer for Camila. “Can I do anything?”
“Nah, these have to boil for a bit, sit down and rest.”
Beatrice doesn’t have to be told twice. She plops down in a chair and lets out a very long exhale - feeling far older than her twenty-six years after a long day. “Do you think your neighbor might want to join us?”
“Lilith?” Beatrice couldn’t even finish her drink before the response left her. “No, I’m convinced her photo is in the dictionary next to the word anti-social.”
Camila laughs, “adjacent to your picture then?”
“I’m not that bad, I put up with you.”
It’s a tease and it makes Camila laugh - but also a deflect, because they’ve had this conversation a few times before. “Yeah, me and that’s it. Now that Shannon’s gone and Mary won’t be around as much I’m going to worry about you more.”
Her friends have worried about her a lot and she really does appreciate the kindness.
The truth is, Beatrice enjoys her isolation - she chose this. The world has never felt quite right for her, never seemed as if it was built to her personality.
Everyone has an agenda. Everyone wants something, needs something, takes everything.
For Beatrice, the only wants she ever had seemed simple enough, basic human needs. Respect, kindness, support - things she was without growing up.
She’s no psychologist, but Beatrice figured out a long time ago that her parents broke her with the way they raised her. She’s accepted it and adapted - this is who she is now and that’s okay.
Is her life exactly where she wants it to be? She honestly has no idea. She’s content here and for someone who spent years feeling worthless, content is just fine.
“You don’t need to, I’ll have my hands full all winter around here, especially with a new hire in starting tomorrow”
“Oh right,” Camila sits down and pops open her beer. “What’s that all about? Do you know anything about her?”
Beatrice shakes her head. “She’s someone important to Suzanne, I only know that because of how much work I was given to prepare for her.”
“You mean all the work on the guest house?” Beatrice nods. “So she’s disabled? Older?”
“I’d imagine, an old friend perhaps. Suzanne swears she’s qualified for the job.”
“Big shoes to fill with Shannon gone, lucky bitch - I cannot believe she gets to move to the city, with a company vehicle to boot!”
Shannon has truly landed a great job, but not without sacrifice. “She deserves it.”
“Oh I agree, but shit so do I. I work a second job over the summer to help to pay my rent and I am not looking forward to going back to school next month.”
Camila works part time at a motel in the winter, then teaches full time in the summer. During the winter months. She’s a History teacher at the local middle school. She’s so good with kids, but Beatrice has to hear about how annoying they are all winter - it’s become a bit of a tradition.
Beatrice finishes her bottle of water. “I suppose I’ll have to start sorting out my meals better when you start up again. I can't expect you to come cook for me after a full day of dealing with children.”
“I mean you know I would.”
“I do, but I can take care of myself.”
Camila rolls her eyes. “We need to get you a sugar mama.”
Here it comes. “I’m good,” she says, as she always does.
“I can set you up on some more dates.” Camila responds, as she always does.
More dates would imply that Beatrice has had multiple dates - she hasn’t. Just the one setup that Camila and Shannon convinced her to take.
The truth is, this is a very small town and the pool of eligible gay women is even smaller - so much so that the one blind date came a long way to meet her, they were two hours apart and met in the middle to eat very mediocre chicken paella and even more mediocre conversation.
“No, thank you.”
Camila frowns. “I won’t push,” she sighs and sets her beer down. “There’s just so much property here and I hate leaving you all by yourself.”
“I’m not though, there’s so much work and the animals - and people come and go through here all the time.”
That is the truth, this ranch is a crucial piece of this town - it’s been here for decades and does great business. The cattle Suzanne gets and the way she’s taught Beatrice to raise them make for great products and that’s not even including the sheep which were a new addition just a few years ago.
Business is good and Beatrice is forever busy, she really is okay - even if she goes to bed sometimes feeling a little bit empty. She has no idea how to fix that, or why it even bothers her. Nights have always been troubling. She can't distract herself enough when she’s trying to sleep.
Still, her response doesn’t seem to be enough for Camila, so she decides to tack on a little extra. “Plus the new hire is coming tomorrow, so I won’t even be alone anymore. I can always have her over for dinner.”
“That’s…okay that’s true, but I still think you need to let me find you a girlfriend - you can't date some old bookkeeper.”
Without another word, Camila gets up and goes back to work over the stove. Thankfully, she doesn’t bring dating up again.
------------------------------
Mornings are Beatrice's favorite if only because of the routine of it all.
Beatrice has her mornings down to a science. Her alarm goes off at 4AM but her internal clock is so used to it, she wakes up a few minutes beforehand.
The few minutes she has before her alarm are spent stretching out and doing a few breathing exercises she learned years ago for anxiety.
With less than a minute to go before the alarm goes off, Beatrice shuts it off and climbs out of bed.
She shuffles into the kitchen, still not entirely ready to exist in the world as she fires up her kettle and pours digs through her collection of tea.
Once her cup is hot and ready, she sips on it for fifteen minutes or so as the darkness outside starts to lighten just enough.
Freshly awake after her morning tea, Beatrice hops in the shower and enjoys thirty minutes of hot water and empty thoughts.
The shower has always been a bit of an escape for her. A daily chance to check in and process whatever is happening that day or has happened the day before.
Today in particular she finds herself thinking about the newly arriving resident of Cat’s Cradle.
Beatrice really has no idea what to expect - she can only assume it will be someone around Suzanne’s age and that’s fine. Beatrice has always been called an old soul anyway, so perhaps she can find common ground with this person and maybe even a friend.
The rest of Beatrice’s morning is spent outside after that. She feeds Bartholemew and Tiny before waking up the livestock for breakfast and going through her usual chores.
As she trots along on her horse across the property, two pups in two behind her enjoying the rise of the sun - Beatrice reaches the last barn on the edge of the fence and hops down.
“Stay!” She calls to the dogs, who aren’t entirely paying attention to her but they stay a fair distance away from the barn.
Beatrice walks in carefully, carrying a jug of water as she does.
The scatter as she opens the door never fails to make her smile. Five years of the same thing every morning and the barn cats are still skittish of her.
She catches sight of a lot of them, all hidden around the barn on both levels, buried in the hay and some of them meowing like they are altering the others of an invader.
Filling their water bowls up is quick work and she doesn’t like to linger - the dogs get restless and the last thing she needs is for Tiny to get too curious.
Once the cats are taken care of, Beatrice has burned through most of the early morning sun. She checks the watch on her wrist, a quarter to ten - the new arrival will be here soon.
By the time Beatrice gets the cattle settled and puts her horse back in the stable, it’s almost time.
Her legs carry her down the path to the main road, she’ll want to greet her as she arrives.
Beatrice stands outside for about ten minutes before she sees the big gray van rolling down the long road to the property. She fusses with the sleeve of her shirt, not sure why she cares. Strangers don’t really matter to her much, but most of them aren’t going to live in the same space as her for the foreseeable future.
The closer the van gets, the more Beatrice can make out. The logo of some kind of transportation company on the side, the plate has a handicap symbol on it and the van is bouncing quite a bit on the rough road.
When it rolls to a stop in front of her, the window on the side is down and Beatrice can see the driver. “Morning!” The driver, an older lady, calls out.
Beatrice tips her hat. “Good morning.”
Suddenly, the side of the van pops open and an automatic door starts to roll back.
From there, a ramp folds out and gently touches the dirt.
The driver is already out of the van and climbing in the back - she’s fiddling with something but Beatrice can't get a good enough look inside because of the position of the sun just overhead.
“Alright, Ava. You’re ready to go.”
Beatrice pushes her hat down a bit, blocking the sun just in time to see her new co-worker, Ava, come out of the van.
It is one of the most surreal moments of her entire life.
Ava is not an old friend of Suzanne, or if she is, they were friends when Ava was a baby.
Because Ava can't be a day over twenty-four and could very well be the most beautiful girl that Beatrice has ever seen.
Her smile is already on display, hair shimmering in the sun despite being tucked beneath a baseball cap. She pushes herself down the ramp carefully, muscles in her uncovered forearms coiled as she holds her tires steady before the front ones touch down on the ground.
“Ava?” Beatrice tries out the name, Suzanne never told her so she hopes it’s okay that she knows.
Any doubts are washed away when Ava directs that smile at her. “Hi! Are you the one Supes said would be meeting me here? That accent is so not local, I love it.”
Beatrice falters just a bit. “S - Supes?”
“Oh right, Suzanne,” she makes a gagging noise. “She’s great but Suzanne is such a stuffy old lady name. She seems cooler than that.”
“And you believe…Supes is more appropriate?” Beatrice has no idea why she says it, but Ava smirks.
“I’m workshopping - what’s your name?”
Beatrice hesitates. “I’m not sure if I should tell you, you may think it needs improving.” Her voice is light and teasing - two things she almost never is.
Ava laughs, it’s a marvelous sound. “Try me.”
“Fine,” she extends a hand. “I’m Beatrice.”
When Ava reaches out and shakes her hand, the firm grip she’s met with is surprising. Suzanne told her Ava had some dexterity and motor function troubles, but her grip and hands seem just fine.
It’s only when their eyes meet that Beatrice realizes she hasn’t let go.
Neither has Ava.
“It’s good to meet you, Bea.”
Oh, the nickname tickles the back of Beatrice’s brain. “You have a bit of an accent yourself.”
“Yep, from Madrid, by way of Portugal.”
“A long way from home.”
Ava shrugs. “I can't say I think of either of them as home.”
Beatrice can't stop herself from smiling. “I know the feeling.”
“Can you handle these or do you need help carrying them in?” The driver asks, coming around from the back with two bags that no doubt belong to Ava.
Ava, who she is still holding hands with from their initial shake.
The driver’s arrival startles Beatrice enough that she can't respond and drops Ava’s hand like it was on fire.
Beatrice steps around Ava and quickly gathers the bags up. “I can take them, thank you.”
“Are you all set, Ava?” The driver kneels down to Ava’s level with at first Beatrice thinks it’s a friendly gesture - but then Ava leans away from her.
“Yeah I’m good,” she keeps her tone flat, empty. It’s the exact opposite of her expressive face.
The driver puts a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll miss you at St. Michael’s.”
“Uh huh, thanks Diane. You don’t have to go through the whole schtick.”
That’s when the shift comes and Diane’s smile falls. She sighs and stands up. “Good luck, Ava.” She says and then looks at Beatrice. “The bag on the back of her chair is her clothes - the one in your left hand is her therapy equipment, please don’t-”
“We’ll handle it, D. Take care!” Ava calls out and then starts rolling herself along the dirt towards the ranch.
Beatrice, suddenly a little uncomfortable, looks up at Diane just as she rolls her eyes. “Good luck to you, too.” Is all she gets and then Diane is climbing back into the van and firing it up as the ramp folds back in.
As her tires start crunching the gravel as she drives away, Beatrice turns back to find that Ava is already a good distance away from her, just rolling down the path.
“Ah! This place is fucking incredible! There’s so much space!” She stops rolling just enough to throw her hands out to the side and take in a deep breath.
It’s enough time for Beatrice to catch up to her. “If you follow me, I can lead you to your new space.”
“Sure!” Ava looks up at her, it’s the first time Beatrice has allowed herself the chance to really look at her.
To say that Ava is not what she expected would be a massive understatement. For starters, she’s about thirty years younger than what Beatrice was expecting.
She truly is beautiful, and that is not a word Beatrice tosses around lightly - but Ava fits it to a tee. Her hair is long, brown and flows in the wind beneath her hat. She’s wearing a short sleeved button down shirt, blue with white stripes and a pair of jeans to match.
Beatrice feels a bit guilty for assuming, but Ava doesn’t carry herself like someone with a disability. She’s not sure what she expected or what that even means. She’s never been around anyone in a wheelchair for any extended period.
All she knows is that Ava is not the worn down old lady she was expecting.
No, Ava is young and full of wonder - with a smile so bright it puts the sun on notice. She’s practically bouncing in her seat as she pushes her chair along the dirt.
It’s a long stretch from the road to her place, Beatrice worries it might be too much for her, but she has very strong arms and seems to be doing just fine.
“So, Ava, how did you find your way out here? We’re not exactly a hot spot on the map.”
Ava chuckles. “No shit, when Suzanne told me about it I thought she was making it up. Is it true you guys don’t have a theater?”
Beatrice shakes her head. “We do, it’s just not up to date - we don’t get new movies here. The closest theater to see new releases is an hour out of town.”
“Wow,” Ava whistles. “I thought I had it bad at the orphanage but damn.”
That catches her by surprise. “Orphanage?”
“Long story, get me drunk and I might tell you.”
Beatrice resists the urge to tell Ava she doesn’t drink. No need to make herself the sad old lady she thought Ava might be on the first day. “Alright, well we may not have a theater, but your place does have cable and we’ve set you up with a very nice computer for work.”
“Oh right,” Ava pushes once, hard, to give her a longer roll as she frees up her hands to adjust one of her legs. She lifts it, shifting it on the footrest and then sets it back down. “I keep forgetting I’m actually here to work.”
Beatrice notes that her shoes don’t have laces, they also look brand new.
“Suzanne says you’re well versed in computers.”
“I know a thing or two, are you into that?”
It’s Beatrice’s turn to laugh. “No, I am not entirely incompetent, but once you start digging into the nuts and bolts of it all you lose me. I can handle my phone and a quick internet search, that’s about it.”
“Ah, so I shouldn't expect you to pop in for a few rounds of Fortnite then?”
Beatrice can't stop her frown. “Fortnight? Is that some kind of calendar game?”
“What?”
“Fortnight, where I’m from, a fortnight means two weeks.”
She can only see a part of Ava’s face beneath her hat, but what she does see coils up in confusion. “Is that a British thing?” Beatrice nods. “Huh, why do you have a word for two weeks?”
“Fortnight is derived from fourteen nights.”
“I mean, I got that, but why not just say that.”
Beatrice shrugs, the motion making her remember the heavy bags in her arms. “The only reason I’ve ever heard for why is because many people were paid their working salary every two weeks, or fortnightly.”
“Huh,” Ava slows as Beatrice does when they're suddenly outside of her new home. “Alright, well no Fortnite isn’t a game about calendars. I’m not sure what that would even be like - but don’t worry about it. I don’t play it anyway. It’s just kind of the go to game non-gamers always ask you if you play.”
Beatrice hums. “Much like those who don’t read poetry always asking those who do if they're reading Shakespeare?”
“Exactly!” Ava smiles up at her again and Beatrice feels her grip on the bags tighten. “Wait, do you read poetry?”
“On occasion.”
Ava’s brows rise. “Oh nice, a cowboy with class.” Before Beatrice can say anything though, Ava’s attention shifts. “So is this me?”
“It is,” Beatrice pulls the bag in her right hand to her left to hold them both before stepping up the ramp and opening the door for Ava.
Ava, who watches her with a smirk and doesn’t move an inch. “I appreciate it, but if these are my digs I should probably make sure I can open the door on my own, right?”
It’s a good point. “Alright,” Beatrice closes the door and locks it. Then fishes the keys out of her pocket and hands them to Ava - the bags she’s holding almost drop before she’s able to separate them again.
Placing the keys in her lap, Ava makes her way up the ramp, clearly using a little more effort than usual. Beatrice wonders if she’s made it too steep, but before she can say anything, Ava locks the brake on one tire before grabbing the keys and sticking them in the lock.
That’s the first time Beatrice actually sees it, the way her fingers struggle a little as she tries to grip the key to twist it open.
It’s not conventional, she ends up squeezing the key between her first and second knuckle, but the grip is tight enough to open the lock.
Then she presses her whole wrist down on the handle and the door pops open. “Ha!’ Ava throws her arms in the air only for the side of her chair without a brake on to suddenly start rolling backwards. “Of fuck,” Beatrice moves to help her from toppling off the ramp, but Ava catches herself with a laugh. “You’d think those kinds of things wouldn't happen to me after sixteen years in this thing, huh?”
“You would, but I somehow managed to forget to put my truck in park four days ago despite ten years of being able to drive.”
The response must not be what Ava expects because she just kind of…looks at Beatrice for a few seconds. Not that Beatrice is complaining, it’s a great chance to take in just how pretty she is.
She genuinely thinks she’s never seen someone so attractive before - she can't explain it - but Ava’s face is captivating.
Then she’s suddenly grinning as she steers her chair back up the ramp. “So you’re a cowboy, who reads poetry and drives a truck?”
“I’m not certain I qualify as a cowboy, I merely tend to the ranch.”
Ava pushes herself into the house and whistles as she looks inside. It isn’t much bigger than a single wide trailer. The kitchen and living space are only separated by a change from tile to carpet. There’s a bedroom down a small hall just past the kitchen and a bathroom attached to it.
Still, Ava looks around like she’s stepped into the Prado Museum. “Damn, this sure beats St. Michaels.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
Ava lifts the hat off her head, giving Beatrice a better look at her hair - it’s a bit messy, but in an endearing kind of way.
If she were the kind of person to tousle someone’s hair, she would tousle Ava’s.
Fortunately, she’s not that kind of person. She hates those people - but Ava makes her understand their existence just a bit.
“This is so cool, oh!” Ava suddenly moves twice as fast as Beatrice thought possible as she rolls across the kitchen tile towards the desk set up near the window. “Did you manage to get all the equipment set up?”
Beatrice laughs. “Not me, no. Shannon - the woman you’re replacing - she knew how to handle all of your…tech.”
Again, she can feel Ava staring at her. “My tech?”
“Yes,” Beatrice nods once. She can feel a tease coming.
“You don’t know a terabyte from a teraflop, do you?”
Beatrice blinks at her just long enough for that little grin to come back. “I can assume a terabyte is better. Anything with the word ‘flop’ in it sounds insufficient.”
Ava shrugs. “I don’t know, flip flops are comfy.”
“I wouldn't know.” Beatrice says, tapping her boot on the floor.
“Oh right, dashing cowboy.”
Well, if she was hoping to play it cool, she hopes the heat she feels rising in her cheeks doesn’t show.
It’s impossible to tell because Ava can't seem to sit still. “So should we do the grand tour?”
“Lets,” Beatrice scoops the bags up off the ground. “I can take these to your bedroom if you’d like, as I show you it and the bathroom.”
“Sure, you know I’ve never really lived alone before, or had a bedroom of my own to take anyone into, so you should feel blessed.”
Now Ava’s trying to make her blush, so it doesn’t work quite as well (but it still works a little).
“You do realize I’ve been in this room before? I’ve spent the last two weeks setting up your bathroom.”
“Fair point, Bea. Thanks for that by the way, getting me all prepped.”
Beatrice nods. “Of course.”
She leads Ava down the hall, peeking back over her shoulder to make sure Ava can maneuver down the hall well enough. Beatrice worried a little about the turn to the bedroom, the hall never felt narrow to her but she’s never had to wheel a chair down it.
Stepping inside, she sets the bags down on the bed and turns to watch Ava make the turn.
“I can adjust the doorway if you need.”
Ava shakes her head, gently rolling through the door - Beatrice realizes as she does that she’s protecting her hands from being pinched between the wheel and the frame. “It’s fine, I just have to be careful. No racing down the hall.”
Beatrice hums. “There’s not much hall to race down.”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
From there, Beatrice gives her the tour. She shows off the bed and the closest, where the bar had been lowered for her shirts to hang and the dresser with drawers at the proper level for her to reach.
She gives the whole speech about the blankets and how they’ll probably want to change to flannel sheets in the winter because it gets cold.
Ava cuts in with a joke. “I run pretty warm. One of the perks of not having feeling below my hips is that my toes never get cold.“
There’s something about the way she says it that makes Beatrice smile. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s not forced - she thinks Ava genuinely enjoys not having cold feet.
“Well we don’t want the rest of you to get cold either. Regardless, we have a lot of blankets both here and in the main house.”
“That’s where you live?”
Beatrice nods as Ava runs her hand over the comforter on the bed.
It’s something Beatrice has noticed about Ava since they came into the house - she likes to touch everything. She traced her hands over the wood of her computer desk and the countertop in the kitchen.
Her knuckles traced along the hallway wall and the hope chest at the foot of the bed - now the mattress.
“Is it just you here? Before I showed up?”
“It has been recently. Mary and Shannon lived here for a time, in this extension.”
Ava’s eyes go wide. “Mary and Shannon lived together?”
Beatrice purses her lips, readying herself. “They did.”
“Is this an ‘and they were roommates’ thing?”
Beatrice hears Ava speak, but the words don’t sound right. “I don’t follow.”
“Oh right, you read Shakespeare, not fanfiction.”
The opportunity to impress with a long tucked away memory is impossible to resist. “I know fanfiction, thank you.”
“Is that right, Cowboy? What was your poison? Doctor Who? Trekkie? Oh! Do you write Outlander smut?”
“Please stop,” Beatrice grimaces, which only seems to entice Ava more. “If you must know, I had a phase in my teenage years where I thought The Lord of the Rings was the peak of my existence.”
“Ahh,” Ava nods. “So eleven hours of movies just wasn't enough for you, huh?”
Beatrice shrugs. “It failed to give me everything I was looking for, I suppose.”
“Well shit, Bea. You’re more than meets the eye, huh?” Ava looks her up and down, it’s a bit much for Beatrice who has to fight not to look away. Ava’s gaze is so…pure. It’s the only word Beatrice can think of to describe it.
There is not a single thing hidden in the way she looks at the world. Her every emotion seems to shine on her face like a billboard.
“I certainly try to be.”
Ava nods once, seemingly pleased with the response. “Me too.”
The words hang there for a moment before Beatrice shifts the tour to the bathroom. She shows Ava the handrails and the detachable shower head. They talk about the height of the sink, it’s still a little tall and Beatrice offers to fix it, but Ava declines.
“I can spit my toothpaste in the toilet, it’s fine - less messy.”
Beatrice nods, not wanting to mention that Ava can only see the top of her head in the mirror.
Ava seems to detach a little during the bathroom tour. Beatrice thinks maybe it’s a bit too personal and she understands. Sharing those kinds of things with a stranger doesn’t seem like much fun.
She thinks Ava is probably tired, and maybe a little overwhelmed - but once they're back in the kitchen she’s a bit more lively. Hovering near her new computer setup, no doubt excited to start setting it up.
“If there’s anything else you need, I can get out of your hair and let you get settled in.”
Ava looks around a few times. “Is Suzanne around?”
“Not right now, she’ll be back next week. She wanted to apologize for not being here when you arrived.”
Ava doesn’t seem too upset about it, but she frowns a little. “That’s fine, she just made such a big deal about it.”
Beatrice laughs. “She’s like that with all the new people - or at least she was with me.”
“Yeah what’s the deal with that? I never imagined I’d be recruited like that…I’m just a nobody who fucked around on my computer a lot in the orphanage. I don’t even know how she found me.”
Stepping back, Beatrice leans on the kitchen counter and sets her hat down next to her. She crosses her arms and her feet as she speaks. “I wasn't sure either. I’d only moved out of my home country for maybe three months when she contacted me. I was…well I was on the verge of making some very big life choices.”
“Broadway?”
Beatrice laughs again, as unexpected as the rest. She sees the warmth in Ava’s face too - it’s nice. A bit disarming. “No, um…the church, actually.”
“Oh,” Ava falters a bit at that, her smile dropping just a little before she course-corrects it. “Dodged a bullet then?”
“I suppose. I was young, barely sixteen and looking for a place to fit.”
“Then Supes pulled you out of the fires of anti-hell and brought you here?”
She can't help but think there’s some tension between Ava and religion. “I suppose she did.”
“You know,” Ava shifts a bit in her seat, again moving her legs from one footrest to the other. “You never did answer me about Mary and Shannon?”
“They lived here together, yes. So they were roommates.”
Ava rolls her eyes with a smile. “That’s not what I meant. Were they…a couple?”
Beatrice can't stop the relief she feels at Ava’s expression. She’s not tense like she’s expecting something bad. No, she’s almost…hopeful. “They were, they are. Shannon has a job in the city and Mary works for the town - so she’s been going back and forth.”
“Huh,” Ava seems to let that sit with her for a moment. “I didn’t think this dinky little town would have gay people.” Beatrice frowns at the wording, but then Ava continues. “I mean, I figured I’d be the first.”
Oh.
Well.
Hmm.
“You wouldn't,” Beatrice says, feeling like she needs to say something. “Because of Mary and Shannon.”
Ava looks up at her, eyes narrow. “Right.”
“Anyway, I - I should go tend to things. If you’re okay?”
“Actually, I read somewhere that it’s tradition to buy new ranchmates slash bookkeepers slash new friends a pizza on the day they arrive.”
Now it’s Beatrice’s turn to roll her eyes. “Is that so?” Ava nods once. “Well I hate to be the one to break a tradition, but there are no pizza locations in the area that deliver this far out of town.”
“Huh, well that blows.”
“I agree.” Ava sighs and Beatrice decides to offer options. “Camila, a friend, she was over last night and she made an excellent chicken with mashed potatoes. I have plenty of leftovers I could bring you?”
Ava’s response is quick. “That sounds great, how about we wait though - I need to shower and set all this up.” Ava gestures to the computer.
Beatrice nods, picking up her hat as she moves to the door. “Of course, does six work for you? I should be done with everything. I can bring you a helping or two - we can go shopping tomorrow if you’d like. I imagine you’d actually like to stock your fridge.”
“I mean, I’d love to, but Supes hasn’t paid me yet.”
“We can fit your first shopping trip into the budget, I think.”
That seems to be all Ava needs to hear. “Okay cool, um…sure six works for the roast tonight though - we can sort out the rest tomorrow.”
Beatrice turns to leave, making it almost entirely out the door before she stops.
She remembers how she felt when she thought the woman Suzanne hired was someone in their 50s - how she thought she might be able to make a friend.
Why should that change because Ava’s close to her age and perhaps the prettiest girl she’s ever seen in person?
It shouldn't - Ava’s starting a whole new life here away from everything she’s ever known.
Beatrice knows better than most how scary that can be.
She puts her hat on and looks back at Ava, who has rolled to her desk. “Ava?” She calls, drawing those deep brown eyes to her. “Would you like to eat dinner with me? I understand if you’d like to be alone but I can show you the main house and you can pick from our wide variety of drink choices.”
Ava smiles again, this one just different enough from the rest that it makes Beatrice’s stomach flip. “Sure, I’ll make my way there around six.”
“Alright,” Beatrice matches Ava’s smile before ducking her head as she leaves.
Camila is going to be a nightmare about this.