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  “And a ditch!” Cassidy glanced at the car’s clock. “We’re a little early. Can we stop and see Grandma Jane?”

  “Of course.”

  She passed through downtown Buckhannon, drove over the bridge and around the corkscrew curve, then turned into the Serenity parking lot. Noeli followed her through the entrance and down the hall.

  “Come in,” Jane called when Cassidy knocked. They padded quietly into the room, Noeli a step behind.

  “Oh hello, darling.” Jane set her crossword on the tray of the walker beside her chair. In the window, the plastic solar-powered hula girl shook her hips.

  “Grandma Jane, you remember Noeli? She came and surprised me.” Noeli stepped forward. “Noeli, you remember your West Virginia abuela.”

  Noeli knelt before Jane and took her hands. “Hi, Jane,” she said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  They looked into each other’s eyes and Jane clasped Noeli’s hands in return, shaking them as she spoke. “Grandma Jane. You call me Grandma Jane, darling.” Her eyes glistened and her lips quivered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Noeli nodded, understanding.

  “We’re meeting Simon for lunch,” Cassidy said hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt the moment. “So this is a quick visit, but I’ll be back to see you soon.”

  “Of course,” Grandma Jane said, and Cassidy and Noeli hugged her before turning to go. “Cassidy,” Jane called before they could reach the door.

  She turned around. Jane motioned for her to come closer, so the young women walked back toward the lift chair.

  Fumbling in the pocket on the side of the chair, Jane pulled out something on a long chain. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” She placed the small object in Cassidy’s palm.

  “Your crossword glass,” Cassidy said.

  “My fingerprint glass.”

  Cassidy examined the gold magnifying glass, rubbing the burnished metal with her fingertips. “Thank you,” she said. Jane closed her eyes and smiled.

  Cassidy turned to Noeli now and held the chain between her fingers, letting the magnifying glass hang. She took a step closer and lifted her hands. Noeli bowed her head and let Cassidy lower the chain over her hair as Jane watched with hands pressed together, fingertips at her lips, nodding.

  Even with the detour, Cassidy and Noeli arrived at C.J. Maggie’s before Simon, so they waited outside on an iron bench that sat beside a life-sized cardboard cutout of Lurch from The Addams Family.

  “Uh?” Noeli asked.

  Cassidy shrugged.

  When Simon parked a few minutes later and climbed down from the Porsche, he glanced at Noeli and gave Cassidy a quizzical look.

  “You remember Noeli from the memorial?” Cassidy said.

  “Oh yeah, of course. Hey, Noeli.”

  “Hey.” Noeli gave a small nod.

  The exchange was charged, the words running between their mouths like electricity on exposed wire, crackling, intimidating. Rather than hug or shake hands, they both stared at a Little Free Library next door, the first Cassidy had seen in Buckhannon. A raised pickup truck roared by, deafening them. After a moment without eye contact, Cassidy and Noeli walked into the restaurant first, holding hands, and Simon followed awkwardly behind.

  The tension began to ease as the hostess seated the trio in a booth and brought out giant cups of lemonade and sweet tea.

  “Here’s your diabetes, folks,” Noeli said after she left. Simon smirked and Noeli looked pleased.

  “I know I should be doing this privately,” Cassidy said. “But I need to apologize. Simon, I’m so sorry I led you on and I’m so sorry I took off without telling—”

  “It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to be someone you weren’t.”

  “It wasn’t fair of me to disappear.”

  Simon smiled and looked down at the table.

  By the time the fried zucchini arrived, Noeli and Simon loved each other, their rapport so natural that Cassidy almost felt like the third wheel. Their senses of humor played perfectly off each other, Simon deadpanning ridiculous comments, and Noeli almost spitting out her drink, slapping him on the back playfully.

  After the waitress deposited silverware and returned to the kitchen, Simon produced a Sharpie from his pocket and added to the inside of the metal pail lamp above the table: Simon and two lesbians.

  It was Cassidy’s turn to almost spit out her drink.

  “I never wanted to push you to be anything but yourself,” Simon said. Noeli grinned and reached under the table to find Cassidy’s hand.

  With bellies full and hearts at ease, Cassidy, Noeli, and Simon leaned back and stared at one another until, eventually, Simon took a breath. “So, I’m leaving,” he said, tapping his fingers on his cup and looking down at the table.

  “Leaving? Buckhannon?” Cassidy stared.

  “Yeah. I got an AmeriCorps position in upstate New York to build a community farm that starts right when my grant is up. I was going to turn it down to help you and the baby, but . . .” He looked at Noeli, who bit her lip.

  “Simon, that’s awesome!” Cassidy had recovered from her shock, but was now glancing nervously at Noeli while attempting to keep her smile plastered to her face.

  “Thanks, dude. Yeah, so I’ve got to get busy now making everything here sustainable. Capacity building and all that. I don’t want it to fall apart when I go. But yeah. This is great. You’ll have your space from me and I’ll have my space from my mom and Robbie. I’m excited.” He blushed with pride.

  “What are they going to do? Your mom and Robbie.”

  Simon shrugged. “Guess they’ll figure it out.”

  Cassidy nodded. “I’m so happy for you. And proud.”

  “Thanks, Cass. And I was wondering . . .” He paused again to look back and forth between Cassidy and Noeli. “If you two would take over the CSA when I go.”

  “Totally,” Noeli said, before Cassidy could answer. “I was wondering what I’d do for money here, and that is about the raddest job I can think of.”

  “Oh man, that’s such a relief. I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you with the baby, Cass, and if it’s both of you, you’ll still have time for camming.”

  “Yeah . . . totally.” Did this mean Noeli was really staying? And Simon was really leaving? Cassidy tried to process the enormity of everything that was happening. “You’ll be a part of this baby’s life, Simon. I want you to know that.” Simon’s eyes grew teary and he nodded.

  The waitress came back with the bill, and Simon produced his credit card, insisting everyone’s meals were on him. Once he’d signed the receipt and they’d followed the waxed wooden floors out to the sweaty street, he ran back in to use the restroom and Noeli and Cassidy sat down on the iron bench again. Cassidy’s thighs stuck to the seat, and she knew there would be a red imprint of the metal slats on her legs when they stood. They held hands.

  “You really want to stay? You don’t have to commit to anything. I don’t want you to—”

  “Your piece-of-shit car and the Accord combined only got me enough for a one-way ticket.” Noeli laughed.

  “Oh my God, you really sold the Accord?” Cassidy mimed a sad face.

  “It was time. And besides, Abuela told me to.” Noeli bit her bottom lip.

  “She told you to sell it?”

  “She told me to come.” Noeli smiled. “She told me I was an idiot if I let you get away. I told her you moved back home and she told me to go, not to waste my life with my old grandma. She moved to the US for my grandpa and she said it was worth every bit of struggle.”

  “Grandma Jane basically told me the same thing.” Cassidy laughed. “You don’t have to do the CSA. I can take it on and you can find whatever you really want to do.”

  “Cass, the CSA is an amazing opportunity. You think I want to find another secretary job to work
for the next decade? Besides, if I’m on board too, you can focus on your cam work.”

  “I don’t know if I’m going to keep camming,” Cassidy said.

  “Well, you don’t have to. But you can.”

  “I’m sorry I was such a privileged jerk about camming.”

  “I’m sorry I was a dick about it, too,” Noeli said. “You are a sex worker, even if you’re white. You’re allowed to be empowered by it and acknowledge it’s different for other people at the same time.”

  “Thank you.” Cassidy squeezed her hand. “And I’m sorry again. I’m sorry I didn’t think about why Redlands wasn’t appealing to you.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Noeli said. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand why this place meant so much.”

  “Can we stop apologizing now?” Cassidy asked.

  “Yes, let’s.” Noeli leaned in for a quick peck on the lips. Her sun-kissed shoulders looked so soft that Cassidy had to reach out to feel them. How had she gotten so lucky?

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you lovers.” Simon had appeared in the doorway and the women scooted, Cassidy’s thighs peeling up painfully. Simon sat.

  “What’s going on over there?” Noeli looked down Main Street toward the courthouse, where a small crowd was gathering.

  “Hm,” Cassidy said.

  “Want to go check it out?” Simon asked.

  “Sure.” Cassidy stood before her legs could re-adhere. They walked past the pharmacies, where an antique armoire and found metal art decorated the windows; a new upscale eatery; and the Upshur County Historical Society, where several people sat poring over old photos and newspapers.

  As they approached the crowd of twenty or so spilling out from between the white columns that flanked the courthouse’s stone steps, it became apparent that the group was chanting. A few were holding signs. As they got closer still, Cassidy started to make out their words: “We love immigrants! You are welcome here! We love immigrants! You are welcome here!” Their signs read “Hate has no home here.”

  “Right on!” Simon declared, and high-fived a couple people. “I didn’t know this was happening.”

  “You’ve got to check your email, kid!” a woman about their age with red hair and a septum ring teased. Cassidy recognized her from the trans rights rally.

  “Simon!” A couple other people greeted him with hugs and high fives. He introduced them to Noeli and Cassidy. “I know these folks from the farming co-op.” They wore band T-shirts and cutoff shorts that showed off their thigh tattoos. “Cassidy and Noeli are taking over the CSA when I go.” Cassidy felt like the weird pregnant lady as she braced her lower back with her hands and smiled politely, telling people it was nice to meet them. Cassidy looked at Noeli, who looked impressed, smiling cautiously and chatting. Cassidy turned back to the red-haired woman and smiled, then waited with Noeli at the edge of the group while Simon made his rounds. Cassidy would be the new kid, even though she’d grown up here, but she’d be the new kid in a group of people who seemed like decent humans, and Noeli would be here, too. They would have friends.

  “So how should we celebrate Noeli’s arrival?” Simon asked after he’d said his goodbyes. “And my departure.”

  “Klounge?” Cassidy asked, laughing at the thought of her heavily pregnant self at the bar.

  “Nah,” Simon said. “Something low-key, I think.” He patted Cassidy on the shoulder.

  “Ice cream party?” Cassidy asked, feeling nostalgic.

  “I don’t want to deal with my mom or Robbie.”

  “We could do it at my house . . . our house.” She smiled at Noeli. “New traditions.”

  Simon agreed. “I’ll stop for the goods.”

  Cassidy took Noeli the long way back and decided on a whim to stop at Pringle Tree. “I want to show you something,” she said.

  She held her belly as she waddled from the car to the tree, feeling huge and trying not to imagine the animals that might be out there with them—mountain lions, coyotes, bears. Cassidy had never been afraid of wilderness as a child, even when she was alone in it. She would have to recultivate that comfort and teach it to her baby.

  “This is Pringle Tree,” she said. “Or the great-great-

  grandtree or something of the Pringle Tree.” They walked through a never-ending swarm of various kinds of bugs.

  “What’s Pringle Tree?” Noeli asked.

  Cassidy puffed; it was her turn to teach some local history, to defend her home as a Real Place. “These brothers, the Pringle Brothers, were deserters in the French and Indian War and hid in a hollow tree here for years.”

  “Years?” Noeli raised her eyebrows.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it really was years. We took a field trip here in fourth grade and learned about it, but I don’t remember all the details. It was something pretty insane. I mean, they were probably assholes who were fighting the Native Americans, but at least they deserted, I guess.”

  “Damn,” Noeli said.

  They sat with their backs against the tree and Cassidy rested her head on Noeli’s shoulder. Leaning closer, she could smell the sweat from the nape of her neck. “Abuela will be in this baby, too,” she said. “And you. Everyone and everything. I want you to know you’re a part of it.”

  Noeli’s curls tickled Cassidy’s forehead, and they sat up and looked at each other. Noeli’s face held something like admiration, her brown eyes crinkling at the sides. Taking Noeli’s cheeks in her hands, Cassidy kissed her, hard. The tree was rough against her back, the wet grass was starting to soak through her shorts, and the baby was dancing.

  “We should go so Simon isn’t waiting too long,” Cassidy said, pulling away.

  Noeli groaned, then stood and hoisted Cassidy to her feet. The soft grass and earth padded their steps to the car, and Cassidy thought of poison ivy, hoping they hadn’t been sitting in a patch of it. She decided against saying anything to Noeli.

  Simon arrived at the farm just as they did, and together, the trio ascended the wooden steps to Cassidy’s home, which was both old and new, both unchanged and irrevocably different.

  Simon swung the giant tub of Neapolitan ice cream for what was quite possibly their last ice cream party. Ken was gone, and Noeli was here. Inside of Cassidy, a child grew. This was life, she thought, in awe at the grace with which her companions accepted the facts of it. People got older. They became adults and things changed. They did their best to be here, with each other. For each other.

  Cassidy

  “Really, it’s an estimate. Only five percent of babies show up on their due dates,” Dr. Bassiouni said. She looked at her chart and then patted Cassidy on the shoulder.

  “So, we just wait until the baby comes?” Noeli asked.

  “Basically, yes. As long as things are looking good, and they are, there’s no reason to induce.”

  “Induce?” Noeli crossed her arms.

  “There are things we can do to encourage labor to start, but they won’t do much unless the baby’s ready. If we get to forty-two weeks and there’s still no sign, then we can talk induction.”

  “Okay.” Cassidy sighed. Dr. Bassiouni’s frizzy black hair and oversized glasses were a reassuring presence. “I don’t want to induce either.”

  At forty weeks and two days pregnant, though, Cassidy was ready to do something. “So how do you know if the baby’s ready?” She jumped as the baby kicked her in the cervix, and she experienced what she’d recently learned was called “lightning crotch.”

  “Labor will start.” Dr. Bassiouni chuckled. “But if you’re really getting antsy, we can check your Bishop score.”

  “What’s a Bishop score?”

  “It’s a way of measuring how effective an induction might be. It looks at a few different things related to your cervix—its position, how thin it is, how dilated, and also how low the baby is.”

 
“The baby feels pretty low,” Cassidy said. “I can feel it pretty much between my legs.” Noeli’s eyes widened and she backed up a step, as if this feeling might be contagious.

  “That’s good! Maybe it will be here soon! Really, I don’t encourage induction until at least forty-one weeks. Everything tends to go much more smoothly if you let your body do its work, especially if you’re thinking about having an unmedicated birth.”

  Cassidy sighed. “Yeah, I would like to.” It was part of her resolve to be more selfless. She could handle temporary pain if it was for the good of her child. “I’m just ready.”

  The doctor laughed. “I’m sure you are! I’ll see you soon. I promise.” Five days sounded like ages.

  “It’s like a hotel here compared to hospitals in California,” Noeli said as they walked the hallway back to the elevator. Cassidy had never thought about how quiet St. Joseph’s was, the only sounds her plodding footsteps and heavy breathing. For being so low, the baby was doing a good job of crowding her lungs.

  Downstairs in the lobby, she took a detour, stopping at the tiny glass-walled gift shop. “My grandma volunteered here for years and years,” she told Noeli. “When the hospital stopped using punch cards, she retired, but she’d been coming here so long, she just kept coming.”

  Inside, balloons, mugs, and other breakable trinkets lined the glass shelves. “Don’t knock anything over,” Noeli teased, poking Cassidy’s belly.

  “I know. It’s giant.”

  “It’s like a torpedo.” Noeli laughed.

  Toys and stuffed animals sat on a low shelf under a wall of cards. “I used to sit here for hours and play with the toys. Grandma Jane always let me pick something to bring home. I had this neon-yellow Mickey Mouse airplane that made this annoying whistle sound. Now that’s part of my consciousness forever.”

  “Let’s get something for the baby,” Noeli said.

  As Cassidy surveyed the offerings, thinking about the airplane toy and about her resolution to consciously select music and smells for her child, she was hit by the realization that none of it really mattered. Who cared what toys her kid would remember? “How about that?” she asked, pointing to a fuzzy green teddy bear. If she’d learned anything about people, it was that they were all quirky and messy. The only thing that mattered was that there was love there, too.