Chapter Text
Her skin had gone tacky where it was pressed to Joel’s. The sheets were draped over her hips, making her overheat with how she was curled up against a human furnace. The fan above them blew a cool breeze over her every few seconds, it’s droning impossible to ignore. Her phone was vibrating on the nightstand. She rolled away from Joel to fumble for it, the cold seeping in between them and making goosebumps rise over her chest.
She squinted at the number on her screen, the corners of her eyes gritty and the numbers blurry.
Quarter to 6.
“Shit,” She groaned.
Joel grunted in his sleep as she slid out from behind him. She shuddered at the cold air brushing over her skin. Fall was beginning to become unavoidable, no matter how much she dreaded it, something Joel teased her about endlessly.
Their clothes had ended up in a pile at the foot of the bed. She dug through them for Joel’s t-shirt and her jeans, pausing to grab a pair of boxers out of his drawer. He’d been complaining she was depleting his supply. She made a note to return at least half of the ones that had migrated over to her place.
“Time is it?” Joel grunted from under the arm he’d tossed over his eyes. His voice was rough from sleep.
“Quarter to six,” She held up his shirt, “I’m taking this.”
He lifted his arm to squint at her, the dark hiding his expression, “Bring it back.”
It smelled like him when she pulled it over her head. Like old spice, coffee, and the distinctly Joel smell she got when she pressed her nose between his shoulder blades.
“You want the door locked?” Tess asked as she was fumbling with the button on her jeans.
He made one of his old man noises in his throat as he rolled onto his side, “Leave it. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Tess locked the door behind her as she left, anyway.
The house across the street was still empty, the windows dark, and the ‘Sold’ sign swinging. The grass was damp, the edges of the walkway soaked. Further down the block Arnold’s dog was barking again. If she checked the neighbourhood group chat there’d be at least 4 complaints about it, and the batshit guy on the corner would’ve suggested they shoot it.
The porch creaked as she walked the two steps to her door. She’d remembered to lock it at least, but the kitchen light was on.
She’d tossed a half-assed lunch together she knew she wasn’t going to have time to eat, while she waited for her coffee to finish.
Joel was already sitting on the porch swing waiting for her when she came out. The weather had turned sharp and she’d had to dig out the hospital issue sweater in the face of it. They didn’t speak as they sat shoulder to shoulder, they rarely did. The sun was creeping over the horizon. It cast long shadows of the houses across from them onto the street, and lit the sky on fire in burning shades of orange and pink.
She glanced at her watch again, resisting the urge to swear at the time. Joel held his hand out and she set her empty coffee cup in it.
“Try not to kill anyone,” He said as she dug her car keys out of her sweater pocket.
“That’s the doctors’ problem, not mine,” She said, “Try not to cut off any fingers.”
“Ain’t happened yet,” He stood up with a groan, “What time you off at?”
“Seven, you?” She slung her bag over her shoulder.
Joel shrugged, they were close enough that she could smell his mint toothpaste, “Depends how hot it gets today.”
If they were different people they would’ve kissed goodbye. It was something she tried not to think about, even if it pulled at something in her chest she refused to acknowledge.
That tugging feeling had finally faded by the time she was sitting down at the nursing station. Ryan had given her the run down of the night, the kid who couldn’t have been more than a teenager had been responsive on and off, the lady in 5 was on antinausea medication again, and the old man in 7 had both fixed the doorknob to the bathroom in that room and told physio to go fuck themselves.
Speaking of which, his call button was going off.
Tess took a swig of the coffee she’d picked up on the way in before heading to check on him.
Albert was lying flat on his back when she slid his curtain to the side enough to enter.
“Piece of shit bed is broken,” He said without preamble.
Tess bent down to pick up the remote that had slipped between the railing and hit the ground. Its cord hung above it like a limp vine.
“It’s not broken,” She held the remote up, “The remote fell. Do you want your bed up?”
Albert snatched it out of her hand, “I don’t need any fucking help.”
“Great,” She chirped through gritted teeth.
She turned to go when he asked, “When’s breakfast?”
“They’re starting their rounds now,” Tess said, calmly, “Should be here within 30 minutes.”
“You got any pudding cups?”
“We’re still waiting for a restock. I can get you a sandwich.”
Albert glowered at her, “The sandwiches here are fucking disgusting.”
“Well, you can have a sandwich, or you can wait,” She flashed a smile that she hoped showed how short she was getting on patience, “Your choice.”
Tess ignored his mumbled goddamn, bitch as she left to get his sandwich, but just for that she stopped by the nursing station first.
“Call for you,” Paula said, holding out the hospital phone for her.
“From who?” She asked, taking the phone.
Paula shrugged, “Some lady named Kim.”
“Can you get Albert a sandwich?” She asked, before putting the phone to her ear, “Hello?”
“Theresa?” A woman on the other side asked.
“This is my work number.”
“Right, well, it was listed as part of your contact information,” The woman- Kim- said.
Her brow furrowed, “Who gave you that?”
There was the sound of papers flipping on the other side, just slightly muffled by how bad the phone was, “I have it here as from a Frank Serv- Sevro-“
“Servopoulos,” She corrected. That was almost more concerning than some stranger digging up her personal information. She didn’t even know her uncle had her work number.
“Right,” Kim cleared her throat, “Well, he recommended you as a temporary placement.”
“What?” She choked out.
“For Ellie Williams? I’m sorry, do I have the wrong number?”
“No, no, I just-“ She wracked her brain, trying to remember an Ellie. There was an Elliott a generation below her, but she’d thought he was in his 20s, “Whose is she?”
More papers shuffling, “I have her as being under the care of a Leona, her grandmother.”
She’d forgotten her Aunt Leona was a grandmother. It’d been recent, maybe five, six years ago. She’d barely been maintaining contact with Frank then, let alone a random aunt.
“And that ended because…?”
“Leona’s passed,” Kim’s voice softened, “A little over a week ago.”
“Oh,” She breathed, “I didn’t know.”
Frank hadn’t mentioned it, though she knew the two of them had been close. She’d have to stop by his place after her shift.
“Ellie’s in foster care right now, but it’d be good if she could be placed with a family member, at least temporarily.”
Tess picked at her lip, mind spinning, “How temporary?”
“No more than six months,” Kim assured her, “If you aren’t able to take her, I have another relative on file.”
“Who?” She asked. She could taste copper on her tongue and she dropped her hand from her mouth.
“Cory Thompson.”
She remembered Cory from when they were kids, had seen him at family functions. She wouldn’t trust him to keep a cactus alive, let alone a child.
“I’ll call you back,” She nearly blurted, “I need to think.”
She hung up before Kim could answer. There was a headache already building behind her eyes. She rubbed her knuckles against her temples, “Jesus fucking christ.”
Bill didn’t seem all that surprised to see her when he opened the front door. The sleeves of his flannel were rolled up and he was wearing an apron. The smell of roast beef wafted out of the house.
“Dinner’s in 30 minutes,” He said, turning away without waiting for an answer, “Frank’s out back.”
Their house hadn’t changed much since she was a teenager. There were more of Frank’s paintings on the walls, pictures of Charlie she still couldn’t look at. She carried her shoes down the hall to the backdoor, warm sunlight spilling in with how it was propped open.
Frank was kneeling beside his rose bushes, a wide-brimmed hat covering his face, and a bucket beside him that he was dropping weeds into. His garden was carefully chaotic, bright flowers blooming between bushes. There were raised planters Bill had built, where vegetables were growing. A strawberry patch near the fence she’d helped put up to keep the deer out.
Frank looked up as she sat on the porch steps to retie her shoes. Sweat was beading on his brow, he wiped at it with the back of his wrist, a smile growing on his face, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Even with her annoyance at him, it was hard not to feel a swell of warmth at his happiness to see her. It was the same feeling she’d had when she’d been six, getting dropped off for a sleepover at Uncle Frank’s.
Tess couldn’t find the words to tell him what he’d done, she wasn’t even sure she knew what exactly that was.
“Bill says dinner is in 30,” She said, instead.
“Plenty of time,” He sat back on his heels, taking a sip from a water bottle at his hip, “You here to help?”
She snorted, “Fuck no. I did my time.”
She’d spent hours in summer weeding the gardens, she’d never hated a tree more than she did the maple that kept dropping billions of seeds she’d had to painstakingly pull. She’d dug holes for tulips in fall, sprinkled lettuce seeds in spring, and monitored the temperature with Frank like it was a sport.
“You used to like gardening,” Frank pulled out a weed and tossed it in the bucket.
“I liked that you were paying me,” Tess slid down to the bottom step, stretching her legs out in front of her.
She shaded her eyes from the setting sun with her hand, the vast dome of the blue sky stretching above them. A plane inched its way across it, leaving a trail of white smoke behind it. The birds were chirping in a cacophony of noise. The warm air swaddled her, tempting her to stretch out on the grass and close her eyes, to bask in the bubble that always seemed to exist around Frank.
“You didn’t tell me Leona died,” She said, breaking the quiet.
Frank’s hands slowed before he yanked another weed out with a touch too much force, sending soil flying, “It was about a week ago.”
Tess hummed, “She has a granddaughter.”
“Ellie,” He supplied, “Anna’s girl.”
“I never met her,” A bug landed on her arm and she brushed it away.
“Anna?” He sat back, peeling off his gloves with a pensive look, “You would’ve. She’d be, what, nine, maybe ten years younger than you? Leona brought her to the Christmas parties. Redder hair, usually running around with Nolan’s girls?”
She shook her head, “Don’t remember.”
“She died a few years ago,” He pushed himself up with a grunt of pain, waving her off when she went to stand, “Labour complications.”
“I didn’t know,” Tess moved over to make space for him on the step.
Frank sat down slowly, gripping the railing for balance until he’d settled, “There wasn’t a funeral.”
They lapsed back into silence, pressed shoulder to shoulder. His skin was tacky where it touched her forearm.
“What did you do?” She asked. She didn’t clarify any further, there was a guilty pinch around Frank’s eyes that meant he already knew what she was going to ask.
“I recommended you to take care of Ellie,” He said, evenly.
“Frank,” Tess sighed.
“You have a spare room,” Frank rubbed at the dirt caking his knuckles, “Haven’t been to jail, and I know you can–”
“Don’t,” She jerked away from the hand he tried to set on her arm, “Why the fuck would you do that to me?”
“Tess,” He sighed, “It’s not about you.”
“I don’t care,” She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she could barely resist the urge to stomp off.
“The other option is Cory, and I wouldn’t trust him to take care of a house plant,” Frank said, “And he just got his license suspended again.”
“Why can’t you do it?” Tess yanked her fingers through her hair, gritting her teeth, “You’re the one offering me up like some sacrifice.”
“All of us siblings were ruled out. We’re too old.”
“You’re not that old,” She grumbled.
Frank turned to her, eyes earnest, and squeezed her hand, “I’m asking you to do this because I know you can, I know you’ll take care of Ellie, because I can’t.”
“I’ll think about it,” She said as Frank sniffled, “You don’t need to break out the tears.”
“These are just allergies,” He dug a tissue out of his pocket, wiping his nose, “It’s not forever,” He said, shoving it back into his pocket, “Just until they track down Leona’s will to see who Ellie’s supposed to go to.”
“And if it doesn’t say anything?” She asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” He pulled himself up using the railing, offering her a hand, “You’re staying for dinner.”
It wasn’t a question. She took his offered hand, rolling her eyes.
That night, with a container of leftovers in her fridge, she stared at her ceiling, mind both empty and too loud, ears straining to hear the silence around her, until her eyes burned.
She didn’t sleep.
She wasn’t ready.
It was the only thing Tess could think as she pulled into the drab office building’s parking lot.
She’d cleared out the spare room, moved the boxes down to the basement, repainted the walls that had been scuffed when she’d moved in. There were clean sheets on the bed she’d slept in as a little kid every time she’d spent the night at Frank’s, that Bill had brought over and wordlessly set up. When he’d left there’d been a kid sized bookshelf with a couple of books already in it. The person who had come to do the home inspection had approved of everything, though she’d encouraged Tess to get a deadbolt on the door out of a child’s reach. Joel had installed it the next day.
He'd left a bag of toys on her kitchen table, too, and a booster seat by her front door, everything with the tag still attached. It was the most he’d acknowledged it, and she couldn’t blame him. If she had the option to avoid this, she would.
There was a sign on the front of the building with stick figure children holding hands. The paint had peeled off their mouths, leaving their black eyes to stare at her. Her reflection in the rear view mirror looked exhausted, the dark bags under her eyes becoming a permanent feature. Her gaze slid towards the booster seat in the back.
The air was damp when she stepped out of her car. Grey clouds hung over the city, the sidewalks drowning in puddles, and the smell of rain still lingering in the air. The threat of another downpour loomed on the horizon.
It was uncomfortably warm inside the office, enough for Tess to be peeling off her rain jacket the moment she stepped through the door. Sweat beaded at the nape of her neck, she blamed it on the harsh change in temperature. There was a line of plastic chairs along one wall, a coffee table with faded children’s books and a handful of magazines. The person behind the desk looked up from the computer he was working on. His hair was grey, shaved down to hide the balding that had started at the top of his head. A pair of thick framed glasses were balanced on the edge of his nose.
“Can I help you?” He asked.
Tess swallowed the urge to tell him no, to turn tail and run. She wiped her feet on the mat in front of the door and stepped up to the desk, “I’m here for Ellie Williams.”
“ID?” He said.
She dug out her driver’s license and slid it across the desk to him, standing awkwardly with water from her jacket soaking into the arm of her sweater. She watched him click around on the computer before passing it back to her.
“Take a seat,” He told her, “I’ll let Kim know you’re here.”
He was already standing and heading down the hallway before she’d even finished processing what he’d said. It left her with not much choice but to do as she was told. The chair she sat in was in front of the coffee table. The worn cover of Little Blue Truck stared up at her. It had been Charlie’s favourite.
She covered it with a magazine before it could drag her into a spiral.
“Theresa?”
She snapped her head up from where she’d been staring at the celebrity on the front with abnormally white teeth and bold text around her about a divorce. A woman, presumably Kim, stood at the entrance to the hallway. She was carrying a clipboard, and looked as tired as Tess felt.
She stood up offering her hand, “Just Tess.”
“Nice to meet you,” She said. Her nails were painted a soft grey. She turned back down the hallway as soon as they dropped hands, “I’ve got a couple more things to process before you can leave. You can join Ellie in the family room.”
It felt like a very pointed order.
“How long do you need?” Tess asked.
“It shouldn’t be long, less than 30 minutes,” Kim opened the door to a room, gesturing her through.
There was a plastic table and chairs in a bright yellow, the legs thick and the corners rounded. A plastic bin was on top of it, a hodgepodge of dinosaurs, princesses, lego, and crayons all mixed together. An old box tv was playing an episode of sesame street in the corner. The kid sitting in front of it was presumably Ellie. Her back was to the door, two pigtails resting over her shoulders. She was wearing a knit blue sweater under a pair of overalls, somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered that her aunt Leona liked to knit.
“Ellie,” Kim said.
She didn’t turn around. There was a giraffe stuffie dangling from the crook of her arm, the thing in a headlock.
“ Ellie ,” She repeated. Still no response, she sighed, “Sorry, she’s been really into the tv.”
Kim had stepped in front of the tv and turned it off before Tess could tell her she didn’t mind.
“Hey!” Ellie exclaimed.
“I said your name twice,” Kim calmly told her, “Can you say hi to Tess, please?”
Ellie was scowling when she twisted around to look at her, not budging from her spot planted in front of the tv.
The first thought that raced through her mind was that somebody was punishing her.
Charlie had always looked like her grandmother, and Ellie was exactly the same.
The wide, brown eyes, the chubby cheeks that never lost their baby fat, the freckles over the bridge of the same nose that Tess had always tapped when Charlie was a baby. Even the way her bangs fell, criss crossing over top of each other, was the same way his had been before the chemo.
“Hi,” Ellie said.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, leaving a prickling feeling in her chest. Cold sweat began to dribble down her back. She swallowed against the adrenaline rising up her throat, begging her to run, “It’s nice to meet you.”
She didn’t get any answer. Ellie turned back to the tv, letting out an annoyed huff when Kim put her hands over the controls, stopping her from turning it back on.
“Show Tess your lego,” Kim said.
Ellie stomped over to the bin of toys, rolling her eyes. Tess stood frozen in the doorway.
“I’m down the hall if you have any problems,” Kim told her as she stepped around her. Leaving her alone with the ghost of her son and a child slamming lego bricks around like they’d personally offended her.
“What were you watching?” She managed around the dryness in her throat, even if she already knew the answer.
“Sesame street,” Ellie mumbled, not looking up from the bin as she dug out lego pieces, her giraffe propped up in her lap, just its eyes peeking over the table.
“You like it?” Tess forced herself to sit in one of the adult sized chairs that were pushed against one wall. She perched on the edge of it, her knee bouncing in a tell she’d thought she’d trained herself out of.
She shrugged one shoulder, “I already watched the other stuff.”
“You can turn it back on, if you want,” She said.
Ellie eyed her for a moment before pushing away from the little table, turning the tv on and plopping down in front of it. It gave Tess time to collect herself without being watched. She scanned the room as her chest constricted around every breath. There was a pink backpack in the corner beside a duffel bag that was straight out of the eighties. Neither looked full.
They sat in silence, the only sound the tv, until Kim came back.
She opened her mouth before Tess cut her off, “I told her it was fine.”
Kim nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line, “You’re all set, I just need you to sign this.”
She handed Tess a clipboard and a pen, dotted lines throughout were highlighted in bright yellow. She tracked Kim herding Ellie through turning off the tv and putting on her backpack.
Kim traded her the clipboard for the nearly empty duffle bag.
“It was nice getting to know you, Ellie,” Kim said.
Ellie didn’t answer. She followed Tess out the door, her thumb in her mouth, and her expression blank.
In the lobby she could see it was pouring outside, droplets splattering against the window. Ellie glanced up at her when she stopped.
“You got a jacket?” Tess asked.
She shook her head.
“Alright,” She set the duffel bag down and took off her raincoat. She guided Ellie through feeding her arms into the sleeves. Even with her backpack on it still dwarfed her. She knelt down to do up the zipper, her muscles cold and aching. Her fingers remembered how to do up someone else’s coat, even as her brain tried to smother the familiarity of the motion. She stood up, tugging the hood over Ellie’s head, “That’ll have to do.”
It was as Tess was pushing open the door that she felt Ellie take her hand. It was hesitant, her fingers loose, and when she glanced down the only thing she was met with was the top of her head, staring out at the parking lot and the cars on the road splashing through the puddles that had already accumulated. For a moment they were frozen in the doorway, Tess’ hand stiff, and Ellie silent and unmoving. Slowly, Tess curled her fingers around the frail bones pressed to her palm. Ellie’s shoulders eased away from her ears, just enough that if she hadn’t been watching she wouldn’t have noticed.
Tess inhaled the smell of summer rain, the damp air filling her lungs.
They could do this.
It was strange to bring a kid into her house.
Ellie was quiet during the car ride.
Tess had glanced back when she asked if she wanted music and gotten no response, finding her asleep, mouth open and face relaxed. She was glad for the booster seat having the same types of sides as a car seat, Ellie’s forehead resting against one side as she dozed. She lapped the block a couple times, driving in circles until it was pushing four and she remembered the hell of trying to get a kid to sleep after a late nap.
Ellie had followed her into the house with creases down one side of her face and her eyes barely open as she cradled her giraffe. She let Tess carry her backpack for her, following after her.
The curtains in Joel’s front window were tightly shut, the lights off, even though his truck sat in the driveway. It pinched something in her chest for reasons she didn’t want to name.
“It’s just the two of us,” Tess said as she unlocked the front door, gesturing Ellie through.
Ellie collapsed in the middle of the entry to take off her shoes, forcing her to step over her to toe off her own.
“I gotta pee,” Ellie informed her as she attempted to undo the zipper on her jacket. It got jammed halfway done and she wriggled out of the top, leaving it to fall in a puddle at her feet before she handed it to Tess.
“Bathroom’s the first door on the left,” She pointed to the hallway and was met with a blank stare, “You want me to show you?”
Ellie nodded.
She flicked on the lights for her in the bathroom, realizing for the first time that the sink was too high. She made a mental note to get a stool.
“Don’t lock the door,” She told her as Ellie went to close it.
She cocked her head, pigtails flopping. The humidity had made her baby hairs curl into ringlets and fly around her head, “Why?”
“It gets jammed,” Tess said.
She nodded as she closed it, “You should fix that.”
She stared at the bathroom door for a moment before shaking herself and heading back to the front to grab Ellie’s bags. She dropped them off in her room, the barrenness of it was starting to feel like a failure right out the gate. A Target trip was another thing to add to the list.
Ellie emerged from the bathroom as Tess was debating between pasta and just calling in a pizza, the day having drained any energy she had to cook. There was a water stain on the front of her overalls.
“All good?” She asked.
“I like your soap,” Ellie said. It was just a bottle she’d gotten on clearance from the grocery store. Judging by the smell of lavender that was wafting off the kid it’d been very thoroughly enjoyed.
“I’m glad,” Tess planted her hands on her hips, “Pizza or pasta for dinner?”
She shrugged, “I dunno.”
“Do you like pizza?” She asked. Charlie had gone through a phase where he’d peeled off the cheese, only touching the crust and the sauce.
She shrugged again.
Her phone buzzed before she could press further. Joel’s name popped up on the screen when she glanced at it, just two words written out: Making dinner.
“Who’s that?” Ellie asked.
“My–” She hesitated for a beat too long– “Neighbour,” She finally decided, “He’s gonna bring us dinner.”
She nodded, glancing around the kitchen.
“He’ll probably be here in an hour. Do you want a snack while you wait?” She scrambled for what she had that counted as kid food, “Maybe a peanut butter sandwich?”
A dark look passed over her face before she shook her head, “I don’t like peanut butter.”
They stared at each other, Tess still standing in the door of the pantry, Ellie in the middle of the kitchen, looking small.
“I can show you around while we wait,” Tess said.
“You got a tv,” Ellie pointed to the flat screen that had come with the place when she’d moved in.
“It doesn’t play much right now,” She admitted, “But we can get something set up.”
That seemed to appease her enough to follow Tess through the house. They went through the kitchen and the living room, waiting while Ellie touched everything and opened every drawer and cupboard, her giraffe never leaving her arms.
“What’s that for?” Ellie asked from in the pantry.
Tess poked her around the door. Ellie pointed to the mixer on one of the lower shelves.
“It’s a stand mixer,” She explained, “For baking. My grandma gave it to me.”
“Is that my grandma, too?” She asked fiddling with the dial on the side. Tess almost told her to stop before she wore it out, as if she’d used it in the last decade.
“Your great grandma,” She corrected instead.
“I didn’t meet her.”
Tess tried to work through the math in her head, “She would’ve died when you were still a baby.”
She racked her memory, trying to conjure up an image of the funeral. Leona had been there, she’d given a small speech, but had she had a baby with her? She couldn’t remember, had been so deep in a fog she’d avoided looking at anybody , let alone a child.
Ellie abandoned the mixer to look around the pantry, her lips pressed in a thin line. There wasn’t much. A box of instant oatmeal, seasoning, a can of instant coffee, the energy drinks she took to work, it was pretty bleak.
“We’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow,” Tess said, “You can pick out what you like.”
She nodded, stepping out of the pantry, “You don’t got a lot.”
“No, I suppose I don’t,” She followed Ellie back to the living room, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yep,” She said.
They made it through the bathroom and where her room was, before they stopped at Ellie’s.
“I put your bags in here,” She told her as she pushed the door open, “We can get you some things to decorate with.”
“Like space blankets?” Ellie asked as she wandered through the room, touching the comforter on the bed.
“We’ll see what we can do,” She hovered in the doorway, suddenly feeling like she was imposing, “Do you want some time to unpack?”
Ellie stopped examining the handful of books that were on the shelf to side-eye her, “Alone?”
There was an unmistakable waver in her voice.
“If that’s what you want,” Tess carefully said, “I can stay, too.”
“You should stay,” She said, turning her attention back to the books before pointing to the bed, “Sit there.”
She almost laughed at the sternness of her tone.
She perched on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping a bit under her. Ellie carefully paged through each book before turning her attention to the little cluster of toys on the shelf below them.
“Can I play with this?” She held up a package with 5 little containers of playdoh.
“It’s yours,” Tess said. The duffel bag and backpack still sat beside her on the bed. It was creeping up on five, and it had always been a drawn out process to get Charlie through dinner and into bed, though he’d been too exhausted near the end to fight bedtime, “Unpack first, then we can do it at the kitchen table.”
Ellie visibly brightened at the use of we , setting the playdoh back on the shelf to open her bags. She dumped them out onto the bed, and Tess fought not to wince at how little there was. A couple t-shirts, a pair of jeans, a lonely pair of pajamas with the faded fabric she remembered from the eighties. There was a green baby blanket she unrolled from her backpack, and one puzzle box, but that was it. No mementos, no pictures, nothing.
“This everything?” The words slipped past her lips before she could stop them.
Ellie didn’t seem to take offense at the question, carefully smoothing out the baby blanket on the bed, “They packed it. They said I could get my stuff later.”
She didn’t specify who they was, but she glanced at Tess as if to confirm the truth of the statement.
“I’ll call Frank to ask,” With any luck he’d know who was in charge of cleaning out Leona’s house.
“Who’s Frank?” Ellie asked, cocking her head to the side.
“He’s my– our – Uncle,” Tess picked up one of the t-shirts without thinking, smoothing out the wrinkles that had appeared from being bunched in the bag and folding it.
“Oh,” She accepted the shirt when Tess handed it to her, “Why’d you do it like that?”
“Fold it?” She resisted the urge to pick up something else at the pinched look on Ellie’s face, even as her fingers itched for something to do.
“It’s gonna be unfolded,” She pointed out, slowly.
“I know,” Tess said, “They don’t have to be folded, it’s up to you.”
Ellie frowned for a second before dropping another crumpled shirt in Tess’ lap and taking the folded one over to the dresser. She took it as instruction enough.
Even with Ellie insisting on taking every item individually to the dresser it took less time then it should’ve to get her unpacked. They were at the kitchen table together making dinosaurs out of playdoh within five minutes. She’d briefly been diverted to text Frank about getting the rest of Ellie’s things, but aside from that had been equally as absorbed in the playdoh, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
She was in the process of cutting out teeth for her t-rex with a butter knife, when the doorbell rang.
“That’s probably dinner,” Tess said as she stood up.
Ellie didn’t look up. She was carefully placing a line of spikes along the back of her stegosaurus, her giraffe sitting on the table beside her. It was an unscientific shade of hot pink, but Tess’ t-rex was purple so she really couldn’t judge.
Joel was holding a pot of soup when she opened the door, a cloth shopping bag dangling from his elbow with a loaf of bread sticking out.
“Y’alright?” He asked, a scowl plastered on his face. It would’ve been a little more convincing if he didn’t have that pinch between his eyebrows he always got when he was worried.
“I’m trying,” Was all she could offer.
Joel grunted something that almost sounded like a word, holding out the pot to her, “Tomato soup. Got the stuff for grilled cheese.”
“You’re not coming in?” She winced at how desperate it she sounded. She cleared her throat, “I’ll burn the shit out of the grilled cheese.”
“Reckon you would,” He didn’t move. She didn’t either.
“Please,” She breathed when the silence was starting to weigh on her.
She’d never begged him before, had never needed to, but now she wanted to cry, or scream, or both. Instead she was going to sit across from a kid who looked like her baby, and pretend that she wasn’t unraveling at the seams.
Joel swallowed, looking away from her, “Ain’t staying long.”
She stepped back, opening the door wider for him.
Ellie was still at the kitchen table. She’d finished her stegosaurus and was working on adding a human body sticking out of its mouth. They may have needed a review on what a herbivore was.
“Ellie, this is my neighbour, Joel,” Tess said, “He got you the playdoh."
She looked up long enough to examine him, “You wanna make a dinosaur?”
“‘S alright,” Joel grunted, “Got dinner to heat up.”
“What is it?” Ellie asked as she attached another arm sticking out of the stegosaurus mouth. If Tess was counting correctly it had 3 arms and 2 legs, though maybe it was 2 arms and 3 legs, they all just looked like vague noodles.
“Tomato soup and grilled cheese,” He set the pot on the stove, dropping the bag on the counter, and fiddling with the dial on the stove, “You can prep those,” He flicked his chin at the bag, “Y’ain’t able to burn untoasted bread.”
Tess rolled her eyes at him but dug out the cutting board.
It was inching towards domesticity in a way she didn’t want to think about. She and Joel worked side-by-side at the counter, her prepping the grilled cheese and him frying them. They were deadly silent, the only thing breaking it was Ellie humming under her breath.
Actually eating was an equally quiet affair, Ellie’s homicidal herbivore regulated to the edge of the table and her giraffe moved out of the splash zone. She ate like she was starving, tearing the crust off her grilled cheese before devouring it so fast Tess wasn’t sure she’d actually chewed.
“You like it?” Joel asked as Tess ladled out a second bowl of soup for her.
“It’s good shit,” She informed him around her spoon.
Tess pressed her lips together to avoid laughing, she’d forgotten how much Leona had cursed, and apparently it had been passed down.
The corners of Joel’s lips twitched before he smoothed them back into his asshole face, “Better than canned.”
“Or ketchup,” Ellie added, “Or spaghettios, or peppers, or–”
Her list kept going as they ate, soup dribbling down her chin when she continued talking with her mouth full. She finished with “Or grape jello.”
“You’re probably right,” Tess said, handing her a napkin to dab at where she’d gotten soup on the front of her overalls, “Done?”
“No!” Ellie’s hands shot out to clutch her bowl, pulling it towards her before Tess could even reach for it. She froze with her knuckles turning white around it, eyes going wide, “I mean, no, thank you.”
“You sure?” She asked. The kid had put away three bowls of soup, on top of the grilled cheeses whose crusts were covering her plate. For someone so tiny, she wasn’t sure where all of it was going. She also wasn’t sure what she’d do if it came back up.
“I’m still hungry,” Ellie insisted.
“Let's take a break,“ Tess suggested, “We’ll clean up, get jammies on, and then see about a snack.”
“But what if I’m hungry before that?” Her grip on the bowl didn’t ease.
“I’ll heat up some more soup for you,” She promised.
“What if you can’t do it?”
It felt like the ‘why’ questions she’d been pelted with through Charlie’s threes, but the pinch between Ellie’s eyebrows said she wasn’t asking just because.
“Reckon I could make a couple more grilled cheese,” Joel said, clearing his throat, “Put ‘em in the fridge, you want one, you take one.”
“Right now?” She asked, though she let go of the bowl.
“Ain’t got nowhere else to be,” He hauled himself up with a groan, gathering the dishes up, “Better get cleaned up before you’re stained tomato coloured.”
“Thank you,” Tess said once Ellie had disappeared into the bathroom, taking her giraffe with her, and she was loading the dishwasher.
Joel flipped a grilled cheese out of the pan and onto a plate, “Ain’t done nothing special.”
“Still,” She kept her eyes fixed on the dishwasher, “I–” I needed you , she wanted to say, the words clogging her throat– “I appreciate it.”
She got no answer and she took as a sign that she’d pushed her luck enough for the day. She loaded the dishwasher in silence, leaving him to go check on Ellie as soon as she was done, giving him the space to head out.
Ellie’s door was open a crack but Tess still tapped her knuckles against it, “Ellie? Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” Came the wobbly response.
Ellie was sitting on her bed, wearing her pajamas and the same thick sweater she’d had on all day. She’d wrapped the green baby blanket around herself, cradling her giraffe in her arms and rubbing her cheek against it. Her face was flushed, and her eyes wet. Something in Tess’ chest plummeted fast enough to leave her nauseous.
“How you holding up?” It was a stupid question to ask, but it was the only thing she had, frozen in the doorway, her hand still resting on the doorknob like she might run. As if she could ever forgive herself.
“I’m okay,” Ellie hiccupped, wiping her cheeks with her palm.
“Can I sit?” Tess gestured to the bed. She got a tiny nod, and crossed the room to join her, leaving a foot of space between them, “Lots of big changes today.”
It was an utterly stupid sentence.
“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.
“Feels like it deserves some crying,” She added.
Ellie didn’t answer, and for a moment she worried she’d said the wrong thing. She was about to open her mouth to dig herself an even deeper hole when a wheezy sob broke the silence.
Ellie curled forward, her face pressed to the top of her giraffe as her shoulders shook. She cried silently, the only sound she made was whining exhales that sounded like they hurt. Tess’ hand went out automatically to rest on her back, freezing in place once she’d realized what she’d done, before slowly beginning to rub over the line of her spine. She was shivering like she’d been outside for hours, her whole body shaking under Tess’ palm.
She didn’t offer any promises that things would be okay, that it would be better in the morning. Even if listening to a child cry and doing nothing felt wrong, lying was worse.
Ellie came to a sniffly halt, drawing in the skipping inhale that rattled her whole body. She uncurled enough for Tess to hand her a tissue to blow her nose with, wordlessly accepting it.
“Can I–” She stopped, fiddling with her giraffe’s ears– “Is it bedtime?”
Tess checked her watch, it was barely 6:30, “It can be.”
Ellie crawled up to the head of the bed to wiggle under the comforter, her baby blanket still wrapped around her. She was still shivering, her teeth chattering.
“You want another blanket?” Tess asked as she stood up.
She nodded.
Tess nearly jumped out of her skin when Joel appeared beside her as she was digging through the hall closet.
“Jesus,” She snapped, clutching the door frame as her heart pounded, “I thought you left.”
“Everything alright?” He asked. His hair was standing straight up, she realized, like he’d been running his fingers through it. There was a tomato soup stain on the bottom of his shirt.
“Ellie’s going to bed,” Tess grabbed a couple of blankets off the top shelf. They were worn soft, the colours fading.
“Ain’t even seven yet, warden,” He grunted, the twitch of his lips gave away his teasing before he smoothed it out.
“Fuck off,” She muttered. She shut the closet door, and turned to him. They were standing close enough together that she could feel the heat his body was throwing off. His eyes traced over her face, puppy dog eyes, she teased him. The quiet care behind them almost made her cry.
“The kid cold?” He asked, “Got that heating pad for my knee. Could put it on low for her to curl up with.”
“You don’t have to.”
He cleared his throat, looking away from her, “I’ll go grab it.”
Joel turned back towards the living room before she could answer. She stood frozen in the hallway until she heard the front door quietly click shut.
Ellie was still curled into a tight ball in the bed. Her eyes were still wide open when Tess came in, hesitantly watching her.
“Warmer yet?” She asked.
Ellie shook her head. Her hair was loose on her pillow, kinks in it from where the elastic had been. There was a soft wave to it she hadn’t noticed before.
She shook the blankets out to lay over her, snapping them out and letting them drift softly down. She caught the barest hints of a smile as she smoothed them out.
“Better?” Tess perched at the foot of the bed, hands folded in her lap.
She shook her head, thumb inching its way towards her mouth, watching Tess for any reaction. When she didn’t do anything aside from straighten the blankets out a little more she committed to the action, rubbing her cheek against the pillow as her eyes started to slip shut.
Her blinks had gotten longer and longer, though she was still fighting to keep herself awake when Tess heard the front door open. She listened to the sound of Joel’s boots hitting the floor as he took them off. She’d strong armed him into getting a pair of runners but he still insisted on his work boots.
Ellie’s eyes snapped open at the quiet rap on her bedroom door.
“It’s just Joel,” Tess promised as she stood up.
“Here,” He said when she opened it, handing her the heating pad, “Put it on low. It don’t turn off on its own, reckon you better unplug it in an hour or so.”
She nodded as she took it from him. It had a blue, fabric cover, held shut with plastic snaps, “You heading home?”
“Your coffee table has a loose leg,” He said, “Gonna fix it.”
It was Joel speak for he was sticking around until she kicked him out.
“Thanks.”
All she got in response was a grunt, even as his eyes slid past her shoulder to where Ellie was curled up. He was trudging back down the hall before she could say anything else.
“Sit up for a second,” Tess said as she turned back to Ellie.
She clung to the blankets as she did, still shivering. The thought of her aunt’s chihuahua crossed her mind as she laid the heating pad out for the kid, Ellie flopping back to curl up on top of it while Tess crouched to plug it in. She turned it up to the first level, sitting back on her heels.
It was the first time she’d been eye-to-eye with the kid all day. She had a scar on one eyebrow that she hadn’t noticed before.
“Should be working,” She pushed herself up, glancing around the room to make sure everything was in order. The nightlight she’d scrounged up was plugged in the corner. Ellie must have turned it on, because it was glowing a dim yellow, “Need anything else?”
“All good,” She said.
Tess flicked off the overhead light on her way out, “Goodnight, Ellie.”
She got no answer. When she glanced back she could just make out Ellie’s face slack with sleep in the dim light.
Joel was sitting on her couch. His toolkit was resting on the, decidedly less crooked looking, coffee table. Tess dropped down beside him, kicking her feet up onto the table and letting her head fall back. There was a headache driving a spike from her forehead to her neck. She dug her knuckles into her temple, grinding at the ache.
“You’re doing good,” Joel said. When she glanced at him he was staring at Ellie’s stegosaurus.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” She admitted.
“When does it ever?”
And, well, wasn’t that the question.