Friends with Benefits - Chapter 6 - Part 3
Thursday - July 2nd - 11 a.m.
Treadway Manor - Dining Room - Introductory Brunch
The dining room was separated into two groups-the Ms. Hudson Hill elects to the right and the mothers of these elects to the left.
Jim tries not to view any of it with a sense of foreboding, but rather with confidence. Sure, she didn't know anyone besides Zonta and Serene, but, well, that was the whole point of this brunch right? Jim sighs as she carries her two baskets of muffins over to the buffet table plotted in the middle of the room like a dividing line and she places them with the rest of the homemade desserts and dishes. She grabs a plate for herself and pretends not to notice the warning look that Eleanora is sending her way from the other side of the room where she's settled with all the other clucking mothers.
Jim decides to be fair and play it safe. She only puts the food she's not allergic to on her plate. She then carries the plate over to the long table and tries to find an empty seat. She ends up sitting between Serene and Azalea Huffman. This puts her across from Zonta, who is sitting between Hazel Becker and Ruby Chatterjee. When she catches Zonta's gaze, she smiles.
Zonta just frowns deeply before she looks away and ignores Jim completely, engaging Hazel Becker in a shallow conversation.
Okay, that was weird, Jim silently thinks. Really weird.
"So you made it, huh?" Serene says between bites. She's very crude with her chewing but she doesn't look like she cares about table manners.
"You made it too," Jim says and winces in amusement when Serene grins around a mouthful.
"What? You didn't think I'd make it? Of course I would," Serene drawls as she swallows. "My momma says that if I make it to the final three, she'll buy me that dirt bike I been eyein' for the longest of time. And since I just turned fifteen, I can get a permit for it."
"What model?"
"I was thinkin' a Yamaha."
"Nah. Get an Apollo, old century. It's cheaper and you have to keep up maintenance every three months but it'll give you about 250cc. Plus, you can't beat a five speed transmission with large wheels."
Serene eyes Jim with begrudging respect. "Yeah, okay," she says. "I'll keep that in mind."
Jim nods and begins to eat her food.
"Oh my God," someone moans. Jim recognizes the person to be Allison Loftus. "Oh my God, who made this muffin?"
"What are you carryin' on about Allison?" Azalea Huffman scoffs. "Why don't you quiet down? Some of us are tryin' to eat our food like civilized folk."
"Don't think Serene got the memo," Ruby Chatterjee snidely remarks.
Serene smiles menacingly. "Would you like me to cut your throat open, Ruby?"
"Oh please do," Bianca Dwight pleads. "Give us all the satisfaction."
"Fuck you," Ruby snaps.
"Careful what you wish for," Nicki Jones warns airily. "Think she actually would. I've heard things."
Yancy Foster snorts. "Haven't we all?"
"Hey, hey," Larissa Miller scolds. "Can we not fight? Dear Lord, it's only the introductory brunch and you all are just bein' as snippy as if we were in the final three."
"No one cares what you think, Larissa. Save all that diplomatic bullshit for when you're goin' down on Francis Spencer," Octavia Suarez snaps. "Which I hear you like to do from time to time."
Larissa's jaw drops and she makes an indignant sound.
"I can't believe all this started over a muffin," Hazel Becker mutters and shakes her head disappointedly.
Serene snorts wryly. "All you bitches just wanted an excuse to get started."
And that little comment right there is enough to make all the ladies really start arguing furiously with each other.
Jim hunches down in her seat and tries to make herself really small because this may or may not be her fault. She pops an olive in her mouth and watches the whole table crash into a flurry of name-calling and slinging rumors.
Jocelyn clicks over with a horde of concerned mothers behind her. She attempts to see what's the commotion is all about. "Ladies!" she snaps when she can't get a word in edgewise.
Everyone quiets immediately and the room falls in a hush.
Jocelyn exhales roughly as she bats her hair out of her face and flattens her hands down the lines of her dark dress. "Now then," she huffs. "What has gotten into you all? This is not the way that Ms. Hudson Hill elects behave. I am appalled by the display I just witnessed and I have half a mind to cancel all of it."
The girls start to angrily protest immediately.
Jocelyn holds up a hand and they immediately silence themselves. "Please explain to me what the issue is here," she says. "Because as I remember it, you all have equal opportunity in this pageant."
No one says anything.
Jocelyn grins amusedly. "So no one has anything to say now? No word of explanation?"
Allison Loftus tentatively explains, "Ms. Jocelyn, all I wanted to know was who made this muffin. It's the best thing that I ever tasted."
Some of the other girls scoff.
"No really. Ya'll should try 'em," Allison urges.
Everyone reluctantly follows her advice and grabs a muffin. There is a moment of shared approving noises and speculative whispers.
Even Jocelyn looks begrudgingly impressed by it.
Jim, however, wants to melt into her seat. She wanted good reactions but she sure as hell didn't want it to be like this. She feels her face growing red as everyone starts questioning the maker of the muffins. She slowly stands and raises her hand awkwardly. She says, "I uh, did that. I mean, I'm responsible for the-muffins."
All the women in the room give her appraising looks.
Jocelyn, however, looks absolutely livid, but she manages to maintain it and hide it well. She gingerly sets down the muffin and says, "Ms. Kirk, if I can have a word with you."
Fuck, Jim thinks. I fucked up.
Jocelyn clicks her way out of the dining room and into the kitchen as Jim reluctantly follows. Jocelyn hisses a curt dismissal to the servers in the kitchen and they all disperse.
Jim is sorry to see them go. She's not saying that she thinks Jocelyn might strangle her if they're alone, but she's not not saying it either. Her stomach flips unhappily and she presses a hand to it.
Jocelyn unbuttons her suit jacket and presses a hand to her own stomach with a small frown. She eyes Jim carefully before she says, "I didn't think I'd have to have this conversation with you until much later in the game."
Jim lifts both her eyebrows. "You think I'm going to make it far? Wow, I'm flattered by your confidence."
Jocelyn snorts condescendingly. "Trust me, it's not my confidence that predicts it. Facts are facts. You play the game well. You're smart and likeable by most people's standards," she supposes as she eyes Jim critically. "You've even seemed to have garnered the attention of my brother and my father. But me, I don't get the appeal."
Jim tenses and her face slides into something more neutral. She wonders if Jocelyn knows about her struggles with Mayor Treadway and Chadwick.
"This is a warning, Ms. Kirk," Jocelyn continues. "You do anything so disruptive again and I won't care if you have the adoration of the President-you'll be out and that'll be the end of it."
"Okay, but can I just point out the fact that none of what happened was really directly my fault," Jim reasons. "The tension between those girls were already pretty thick and I-"
"I don't care to hear your excuses," Jocelyn curtly interjects. "Don't waste my time again." With that being said, she clicks away in her high heels and return to the dining room.
Jim is left standing there, furious and oh so very tired of it all. She thinks about dropping out but, well, who is she kidding? She wouldn't give Jocelyn the satisfaction of that.
Success is the best revenge, Jim thinks and exhales as her stomach flips again. She turns and wanders back into the dining room. She returns to her seat between Serene and Azalea Huffman. She notices that Zonta has moved to the end of the table and has actually switched places with Allison Loftus.
Jim frowns.
Allison Loftus sends her a friendly smile and says, "I'm sorry about before. Didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I hope Ms. Jocelyn wasn't too hard on you."
"It's fine. I've had my fair share of scolding," Jim replies with a small grin.
Allison looks relieved.
Mrs. Gloria Albright begins to circle the room, passing out binders full of information, scheduled dates of events, rules and regulations.
Reverend Nolan does a brief history, origin and overview of the Ms. Hudson Hill Debutante Ball. He delivers it with as much boring gusto as he does his Sunday morning sermons. It's sad really.
Jim almost falls asleep but Serene nudges her awake with her elbow. She then pretends like she didn't do it at all and Jim is uncertain whether or not she did it on purpose. Serene is a hard girl to figure out.
Jocelyn speaks next, going over the general dress code expected for each formal event, as well as specifying the three most important dates. The first is the Veteran trip, which was a weekend retreat that all the girls are expected to participate in. They take a bus over to Albany County, dress up in old uniforms and perform their designated talents in a large crowd of Earth-Romulan War decedents and their families. The second is Founder's Festival, which all the girls are in charge of coming up with their own booth that showcases their intuitiveness and ambition. The third is the Ms. Hudson Hill Debutante Ball-this is when three girls will be chosen to dance with their designated escorts and give their final persuasive speeches before a Ms. Hudson Hill is elected.
Rosemary Suarez then gives a thorough explanation of the rules and regulations.
The brunch ends with Mrs. Gloria Albright handing out special gift bags (courtesy of Barbara Treadway) and it contains a brand new PADD, a hundred credit gift card, name brand makeup, lotion, perfume, and a miniature bottle of mixed chocolate truffles.
Jim wanders over to Eleanora and sees that she's in a small debate with one of the mothers, so she decides to just go to the bathroom. When she gets there (with the help of one of the servers) she runs into Zonta, who is on her way out. She says, "Hey, Zonta. We haven't got a chance to talk to each other. Everything was pretty thick back there."
Zonta steps back with a strange look on her face. "If we weren't talkin', well, it's cause I didn't wanna talk to you, okay?" she admits.
That flabbergasts Jim. "Um," she pauses to laugh a little in confusion. "I'm sorry. Did I-was there something I did?"
Zonta's mouth shrivels into an unhappy frown. "You know, the other day I took my grandpa to the McCoy clinic for one of his check-ups and I just so happened to run into Leonard. He was kindin' rushin' out, like he was tryin' to get somewhere but I thought, hey, now's a good time as any to go for it."
Jim knows where this is going and she couldn't look any less guilty or contrite if she could in that moment.
Zonta smirks angrily. "So I ask him if he would like to be my escort, you know, baby steps. And he tells me no. He tells me that he had already promised to go with you. And I think, well, that can't be right. Because not too long ago you was encouragin' me to take a chance with him and ask him out. You didn't make any indication that there was somethin' already between you two."
"I-Zonta it's not really-it's not like that," Jim tries to explain.
"It's not?" Zonta retorts. She laughs bitterly and asks, "Are you guys fuckin'?"
Jim's response is stilled and even so it's an even worse omission of guilt.
Zonta shakes her head and rolls her eyes angrily. "God, this is just-wow." She shakes her head again and she looks so upset and angry. "So the whole time, in knowin' how I felt and you still-wow." She rubs at her face tiredly. "I just don't get why you didn't just say somethin' to me or tell me. You could've just told me. Christ, it would've saved me from lookin' like an idiot."
"We're just friends," Jim tries to clarify. "Bones and I-we're just friends."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Zonta snaps. "Because I thought we were friends. Obviously I was wrong so please just spare me. Spare me anymore humiliation." She goes on to say, "You know, I used to think that Jocelyn was the worst kind of person. But hey-at least she's upfront about who she is. She doesn't pretend to care or cruelly encourage hopeless endeavors. So do me a favor, Jim, and don't ever talk to me."
Jim stands there as Zonta brushes past her and she closes her eyes with a regretful sigh. Her stomach lurches suddenly and she has to rush into the bathroom but she only makes it as far as the sink before everything comes it. She groans and heaves for a few more minutes before her restless stomach settles. She spits and turns on the faucet, wincing as she does her best to rinse out the vomit from the sink. She rinses out her mouth and spits again before she goes to the toilet to pee.
Jim can't say if it's all the build-up of stress or her guilt but she starts crying. Like honest to God sobbing so hard her mascara begins to run. Like she is literally peeing and crying at the same time and it's so sad that it compels her to cry even harder. God, what the fuck? She sniffs and tidies herself up as best as she can before she leaves the bathroom. She tries to hold it together as she locates Eleanora, and she must know something is wrong because she excuses herself and goes to Jim's side.
Jim doesn't even have to say anything. They leave and go back to the house.
Eleanora is completely understanding when Jim doesn't want to talk about what's wrong.
Jim slinks up to her room and she curls up in her bed and falls asleep like some kind of toddler. When she opens her eyes, Florence is leaning back against her headboard with a book in her lap. Jim frowns and blinks tiredly, wondering if she's still sleeping. "Florence?" she rasps, tone heavy with exhaustion and confusion.
Florence glances down at her with a small smile. "Hey, Blue. How are you feeling? Ms. Eleanora says you've had a rough day."
Jim thinks about it and her eyes water and she growls in frustration as she scrubs at her eyes. "Zonta knows about me and Bones," she explains as she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. "She hates me."
"Nah," Florence denies. "She's just mad, I think. She's a sweetheart. She'll forgive you. You gotta give her time."
Jim shakes her head. "Everything is so fucked up. I'm in this competition and I'm still trying to follow through with your plan and I keep puking up everything and my mood swings are just petrifying. I feel like I'm losing control of myself bit by bit."
Florence says nothing.
Jim drops her hands to her sides and stares up at her. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I knew this girl," Florence remarks, very carefully. "Her name was Candice, but we called her Candy, on account of she was so sweet. Sweetest girl you'd ever meet. She was fourteen but she still turned tricks with me. We worked this corner together and we looked out for each other."
Jim frowns.
"One day, she started getting sick, you know? At first we thought it was a bug," Florence goes on to say. "But then we thought it might be food poisoning. She was throwing up, and she was moody and she was tired all the time. So I took her to a free clinic cause I was really worried, you know? What if it had been cancer or something worse like an STD? What we did was by no means safe. But, you know, it turns out it wasn't nothing like that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Florence waits a beat before she adds, "She was pregnant."
Jim's frown deepens. "Wait," she says. "That can't be right. She-it sounds like she had the same thing I do. But that can't be right because I-" She stops suddenly as it dawns on her. For someone so intelligent and clever, she could be completely clueless sometimes. "Shit."
Florence nods sympathetically before she slides out of bed and grabs a brown paper bag. "I was hoping you'd figure it out on your own, but it was starting to look like you'd never get the big picture. Eleanora thought it'd be better if I broke it to you."
"She knows? Wait, she thinks that I-"
"Come on, Blue. What else can it be?"
"Any fucking thing else. I can't be pregnant. I don't-I can't-"
"Regardless of what the facts may be, you need to be sure." Florence offers the paper bag to her.
Jim reluctantly grabs it and peers inside. There are at least four pregnancy tests inside and she already had a feeling that there would be. She swallows and climbs out of bed, staring long and hard down at them.
"It's okay, Blue," Florence says quietly as she sits on the edge of the bed. "I'll be right here when you finish. Nothing is set in stone yet, but we need to make sure."
Jim nods robotically and gives a shuddering exhale. She tucks away in the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a soft click and setting the bag of tests on the sink counter. She chews on her bottom lip as she pulls one free and opens it. As she reads the instructions, she feels a bubbling sense of hysteria and panic start to rise up inside of her. She fights against it as she rips all the boxes open.
Jim pees on each sleek metal stick.
All four of them read '100% positive'.
"Son of a bitch!"
Florence's voice floats from the other side of the door, saying, "I take it they all read positive?"
"Fucking shit!"
"Yeah, they're positive alright." Florence clucks her tongue thoughtfully. "We can go to the clinic to really make sure?"
Jim fucking wants to but she's also afraid that it's just going to confirm what she already knows.
"How about it, Blue? Clinic? No clinic?"
Jim whips the door open and shakes her head. "Bones keeps a spare tricorder in his room. Let's just grab it and-make sure."
Florence nods and disappears from the room for a few minutes before she returns with said tricorder.
Jim takes it from her and syncs it to her PADD before she hands it back to Florence.
Florence waves the medical wand up and down her abdomen several times.
Jim clutches the edge of her PADD very tightly between her hands in anticipation and waits for the readings to appear. They ping on the screen a moment later. "Fuck," she whispers.
Florence clucks her tongue sympathetically as she takes Jim's PADD and studies the confirming results. "You're three weeks along. Um, I don't mean to get all personal, Blue, but-can you think of a conception date?"
Jim flushes and she knows without having to think about it.
"I'll take that as a yes," Florence says with an amused grin. "So when are you due? I know your good at that math shit."
"March," Jim mumbles, still in shock. She is going to strangle Bones-no, scratch that-she shouldn't even tell him at all. She should just strangle herself.
"What's that look all about?" Florence questions, studying her closely. "Blue, I know you're scared but be reasonable about this."
"How?" Jim snaps in pure frustration. "I'm seventeen and I'm pregnant. How can I be reasonable? I'm not even supposed to-" She stops short and bites back the rest of that sentence. It doesn't matter anyway. Facts are facts. She's pregnant and that's the end of it. "This wasn't supposed to happen."
"Things happen for a purpose," Florence reasons. "It's still your choice to do what you feel is right, Jim. It's always going to be."
Jim doesn't feel reassured in the least.
Florence doesn't talk anymore about it and Jim let's the subject die. She goes through the rest of the day in a daze and ignores the way Eleanora and Pauline look at her with concern. Jim wants to be angry at them, she is angry, but above everything else she's shocked and scared and confused.
This changes everything.
This changes everything.
Jim can barely eat and when she does eat she can't quite stomach it and God this is morning sickness. It's-she can't fathom that she's been experiencing morning sickness this whole time.
Eleanora, Pauline, and Florence do their best to accommodate her. She doesn't enjoy it because it makes her feel like an invalid and it only solidifies the reality of the situation. She feels the weight of it crush her and her skin feels tight and itchy with the rising panic that tries to fight its way out of her.
In the end, when she can't stand it anymore, when she's sick of the sympathetic and concerned looks, sick of all the ginger tea and crackers, sick of the exhaustion and nausea, she leaves the house. She walks right out the backdoor and towards the stables and no one tries to stop her. She's not sure what she expects when she reaches them, and the smell of hay and shit and animal does nothing to quell her queasy stomach.
So Jim walks through and she keeps walking and walking and walking towards the sunset, following that orange and pink on the horizon until she reaches the edge of the McCoy orchard. She sits down in the wide space of two trees and stares out at the field of tall wheat grass. She's not sure how long she sits there for but the sky turns black and the moon sits heavy and full amongst a sea of stars.
Bones sits down beside her.
Jim doesn't even look at him because she knows that he knows. How could he not? She didn't exactly trash those pregnancy tests or erase the tricorder results from her PADD. She says, "What am I going to do?"
"Whatever you want," Bones promises.
Jim snorts bitterly and hides her face in her hands as she draws her knees close to her chest. "I don't know what I want," she mutters against her palms. "I want to go back in time and not be so stupid about not using protection."
Bones says nothing.
"I didn't even think I could-" Jim stops suddenly and she lifts her head. "This isn't supposed to be possible for me, Bones. I swear I was never going to have children. I mean, after what I been through. I just-I don't understand."
"I don't have an answer for you, Jim," Bones quietly replies. "But I suppose God works in-"
Jim makes an angry sound as she jolts to her feet. "Please don't start with that 'God works in mysterious ways' bullshit because I don't think I can handle it. Not now. Not about this," she warns before she turns away from him and presses a hand to her forehead. "I had surgery done on me when I was fourteen, Bones. Against my consent. I was fucking neutered. So unless I was lied to, me being pregnant is pretty much supposed to be an impossibility for me and please don't ask me to explain anymore than I already did because I don't want to relive that horror."
Bones stands and moves so that they're face to face. "I want to know. I always want to know when it comes to you, but I wont push," he promises. "We can focus on the now. Startin' with what you want to do."
Jim meets his eyes. "Do?"
"Are you-do you want to-" Bones seems to be struggling with the words.
Jim understands what he's trying to ask. "I-thought about it. Of course I thought about it but I just-it doesn't feel-I don't want to do that," she decides.
Bones relaxes noticeably and he looks a little less weary. "Okay," he says softly. "Alright. Whatever you want."
"Stop saying that," Jim sighs. "You're as much apart of this as I am. Whatever we want. There's going to be a lot of we in the future, so, I think that any decision regarding the-" She can't even bring herself to say it. "Just-we're in this together okay?"
Bones nods and he reaches out to rest his hands on her shoulders. He looks like he's itching to scan her from head to toe or haul her into the clinic so he can do some thorough lab work on her but somehow he manages to restrain himself. Barely.
Jim rolls her eyes when he pulls his tricorder from his back pocket and starts to scan her. She isn't exactly surprised but she's marginally annoyed by his fretting. "You're not smothering me, I hope you know that. I'm not going to let you get crazy with your overprotectiveness and precautionary-ness."
"Precautionary-ness isn't a word," Bones mutters distractedly but he stops scanning her. The sneaky bastard jabs her in the neck with a prenatal hypo.
"What the fuck did I just say, Bones?"
"You'll live. My momma and Ms. Pauline said you stopped tryin' to eat."
Jim glares at him as she rubs at the side of her neck and stays stubbornly silent.
Bones snorts. "Your underweight. I'm allowed to ask," he claims. "You gotta eat."
Jim sighs and starts a leisurely stroll back in the direction of the house. "It's not my fault. I can barely keep anything down. I mean, I can eat some things but even then it really depends. Like that garden rice stuff that you made. I kept that down."
Bones's mouth twists with something thoughtful as he follows her pace. "What have you been eatin' so far?"
Jim tells him as much as she can recall in the last two weeks.
Bones says, "We'll just watch your diet and see what you respond the best to. It's all we can do for now." He looks undoubtedly concerned.
Jim would find it sweet if she weren't so troubled by everything. The rest of the walk back to the house is a quiet one.
Pauline and Eleanora are settled in the kitchen, discussing something in low tones and heavy glasses of red wine.
Jim envies them for it but she doesn't say anything when she joins them at the table. She wonders where Florence is but she doesn't ask because she is too agitated to care.
Bones gets to work with making a chicken broth for the whole house and, just like Jim, he pretends he doesn't notice the speculative glances being sent his way by both Eleanora and Pauline.
Jim sits quietly and doesn't say much because she's still in shock and upset. There is a cold lace of panic still lingering under her skin, and hysteria is building up in the back of her throat in a relentless itch. No matter how many times she swallows and clears her throat, it doesn't go away. She thinks it might be due to the fact that she hasn't completely accepted this pregnancy as a reality-not completely any way.
Pauline chats animatedly with Eleanora, spinning long tales of the days in her youth where she traveled without a care and responsibility, pausing only when Jim clears her throat or shifts in her seat. There is a simultaneous hesitation in the entire room whenever Jim does or make any kind of movement-like they're all waiting for something. It's unnerving and it reminds her uncannily of the scene in Alien of the moment just before the small creature hatches forth and tears out of the unsuspecting victim's chest.
Fucking hell. She really isn't trying to equate this pregnancy to a cult classic horror movie. It's probably the distress and her messed hormones that's making her so edgy. She feels like she wants to crawl out of herself, to shout at everyone to stop treating her like fragile glass, to be able to see her future without only visualizing it in smudges of grey in the shape of infant handprints.
She's too young for this. Too young.
Jim swallows as she exhales shakily, cupping her hands around the steaming mug of ginger tea that Eleanora places in her hands. She avoids everyone's eyes and they leave her alone, seeming to pick up on her prickly mood.
Florence swaggers into the kitchen right at the moment that Bones finishes with dinner. She aims a disarming grin around the room and sits right beside Jim, scooting her chair closer in a blatant gesture of ignoring Jim's personal space.
Jim glares at her red-haired friend as she continually blows away the rising steam of her tea. She hates hot liquids, but she does have to admit that the warmth it provides to the palms of her hands offers something intangibly comforting. It's calming almost and her agitation dips more towards exhaustion. Her stomach quivers but the nausea that follows isn't as thick as usual. She's grateful.
Bones serves her first because of course he serves her first. He goes easy on her though, her portion of soup is a small one. He doesn't linger when he sets down the ceramic bowl in front of her before he's off to serve the next person.
Jim concentrates on drinking her cooled tea before she even tries to touch the soup, which is, by all accounts, actually pretty good. But then again, anything that Bones makes is outstanding. When she does finally eat it, she can tell that she'll have no trouble keeping it down. She finds it only vaguely odd that the things she can keep down is usually anything that Bones happens to make. She wonders if the fetus in her uterus is trying to send some kind of message. She snorts as she thinks about how already the kid is being a smartass.
Florence glances at her with an amused expression when she hears the short laugh. She has a questioning look in her eyes but Jim shakes her head, stands and walks to the fridge to procure some olives because she has a craving for it.
By the time she returns to the table with them, Eleanora is inviting Florence to come to the annual McCoy Fourth of July Barbeque (which is being held at Kevin's house this year).
Florence graciously accepts and that's the end of that. She asks Eleanora for a ride home and Eleanora agrees, saying that she and Pauline needed to go into to town to pick up some ingredients for the spaghetti and apple pies they promised to make for the barbeque anyway.
The three of them leave as Jim starts in on her third bowl of soup.
Bones is settled across from her, eating the rest of Eleanora's salad from the other day. He offers to stay the night.
"I-no," Jim says as lightly as she can manage. It still doesn't stop the disappointed look from surfacing on Bones's comely facial features. "I'm sorry, I just-I don't think I can stand the company right now. I'm still kind of agitated and upset and shocked. I need to really get used to the fact that I am pregnant and that we're going to have a baby. I mean, a kid, Bones. I'm going to be a mother and that scares the ever-living shit out of me. I never prepared for this. Not to say that anyone does but, I mean, I've gone through so much and I don't know. I just don't know. I'm worried I'm going to screw the kid's life up or be like my own mother. And that-I could never wish that on anyone and I don't want that for our kid. I don't want to run off and leave you to raise them on their own but honestly I can't see how I'll be able to do it. I mean, it's not about me wanting to do it. It's about me being capable enough to-"
"Jim, breathe," Bones gently interrupts as he cups his hands over hers.
It's not until then that Jim realizes that she hasn't paused for a breath and that her hands are shaking. She relaxes, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly.
Bones goes on to say, "I'm just as shocked and worried as you are. There's so many things that can go wrong and me bein' a doctor, well, I'm pullin' up every horrific medical anomaly I can think of, but I'm not lettin' that knock me over. I'm just focusin' on the important things. The positive things."
"What positives things?" Jim grumbles and she's not trying to be negative but she genuinely wants to know.
"Well for one," Bones says as his lips curl slightly. "You're havin' my kid. What man wouldn't love that?"
Jim makes a face and grudgingly smiles out of flattery while she rolls her eyes at herself.
"And," Bones continues. "I imagine, between us, the kid'll be obnoxiously smart. It'll have your blue eyes, but there's no escaping my nose."
Jim snorts.
"The kid'll be stubborn because both you and I got that bad," Bones supposes with an amused tone. "It'll be a McCoy, so, big heart. Very big heart. Compassionate."
Jim can't argue that point in the least.
"Joanna's always wanted a sibling. Between you and Joyce, she'll be getting two," Bones points out.
Jim's face falls. "Shit. I forgot Jocelyn was pregnant too. And-and-Joanna is so going to hate me for this."
"She's not gonna hate you for anythin', least of all bein' pregnant," Bones corrects and looks at her like he can't believe she would think something so ridiculous.
Jim doubts that but she doesn't say so. She says, "This doesn't change me wanting to leave."
Bones's face crumbles between several different emotions before firming into anger.
"I don't-Bones, I can't stay here in this town. I don't-it doesn't feel right," Jim tries to explain. "And I'm sorry to say that nothing you say or do will stop me from leaving. This kind of life isn't for me."
"And what is?" Bones calmly questions, but there's no doubt that he's upset. "What kind of life do you think this is? What kind of life do you want?"
"It's small town life. A dead end life. It's a life for nobodies who's given up and are just content with a less than ordinary existence and I will never be content with that," Jim snaps.
A look of severe hurt crosses Bones's expression. "Is that what you think about us? About me? We're just all ordinary borin' people goin' nowhere?"
Jim wants to backtrack because she feels the conversation slipping from her grasp. "I didn't mean it like that," she says. "I just don't want this."
"Yeah, I get it, Jim," Bones says as he stands. "You wanna drag our kid halfway around the world until you feel content to settle somewhere that doesn't make you want to run. But no matter what you think, you have to realize that there's nothin' borin' or ordinary about stability. That's what you should be thinkin' about when you think about what you want for our kid because I do. And I'm sorry to say that I don't think you got any idea of what stability is. But it don't matter what I think or say, right? You'll always just do what you want to do because that's who you are. I'm not tryin' to call you out on it, Jim, but my God-you can be unreasonably selfish sometimes."
Jim doesn't move to stop Bones when he storms out of the house without another word. She sits there in that spot for a long time feeling angry and offended, but also guilty and sad.
Even when her stomach turns unhappily, reminding her of the life she's carrying inside of her, she still feels as helplessly alone as she's always felt.
When she hears Eleanora and Pauline entering the house, she quickly escapes up to her room where she buries herself under her comforter, clutching a pillow to her chest as she tries to muffle her sobs.
Jim cries until she passes out from the emotional exhaustion of it all, and she doesn't leave her bed all of Friday.
Eleanora and Pauline have to bring her food and tea and stick around just to be sure she eats it.
Jim does, if only to rid herself of their company. Once they're out of her room, she goes to her bathroom and throws it all up, not because she wants to but because she can't help it. It's a restless battle back and forth with her emotions and her body. She can't stop crying and she can't stop being angry and confused.
She just wants things to be easy, but of course, that's a senseless hope.
Nothing will ever be easy from now on.
888
Saturday - July 4th - Noon
It's hot. The worst kind of hot.
It's that sticky thick hot that you can't shake, no matter how much ice cream you eat or how much you fan yourself or no amount of ice cold lemonade or water you drink. It's unbearably hot and Jim wants to propel herself into the iciest reaches of the North Pole.
At Sheriff Kevin McCoy's ranch house, in his sizeable backyard, Jim is sitting on a lawn chair under the pathetic shade of a tree with a decorative fan in one hand and a chilled bottle of water in the other. Her red (white-polka dotted) strapless dress is sticking to every angle of her body because that's how much she's sweating. The messy bun she has atop her head even feels heavy and thick with sweat.
Kevin's backyard is swarming with McCoys. There are picnic tables full of them. Some standing, some sitting, some hovering over at the buffet table where there are all types of homemade dishes. The little McCoy children are running back and forth with exuberant energy and drawling accents as they play all sorts of tag games while waving their sparklers around and popping their small firecrackers. Mothers and fathers scold them here and there but they all ultimately give up and leave them to their own devices.
Eleanora and Pauline are conversing a certain subject of some manner with Caroline and her husband, Terrence near the refreshments table.
Serene is huddled with her older brothers, Joseph, Joshua, and Jackson, and they're all snickering about the quick little pranks they play on their younger cousins.
Bones is sitting with Joanna in his lap at a picnic table with his cousins Kevin, Robert, Donnie, and Howard. They appear to be playing a hand of poker.
Jim tries not to stare or watch Bones at all because that would be pathetic and she's still mad at him and she doesn't miss him or want to apologize for any reason at all.
Nope.
Not at all.
"Moon of my life, what are you doing by yourself?" Florence questions with a fond grin as she joins her by the tree.
"I'm melting," Jim complains, grateful for the distraction, and she fans herself with the (borrowed) decorative fan in desperation for relief.
Florence snorts and says, "If you're melting, then I'm burning up. Fucking look at me."
Jim does. She notices how red Florence's porcelain skin is. "Didn't you think to put on suntan lotion?"
"I did! Three bottles!"
"Damn. I don't know what to say. Just sit with me and stay away from sunlight, you vampire."
Florence rolls her eyes. She tongues her lip piercing before she says, "I think I'll get me something to eat before I do. You want something?"
Jim shrugs and tries not to brood.
"You have to eat."
Jim shrugs again and twists the cap off her water bottle before she sips it steadily.
Florence snorts. "Hold tight. I got you," she promises before she wanders over to where Bones is.
Jim frowns as she watches the quick exchange and notes the way that Bones willfully avoids looking over at her, even when Florence blatantly indicates in her direction.
Florence eventually treks over to the buffet table, fixing two plates before she returns to Jim.
Jim scoots over since they're both small enough to fit on the wide lawn chair and she makes room for Florence, who sits happily beside her. She accepts the plate of food from her before she asks, "What did you ask Bones?"
"Hm?" Florence says between bites. "Oh, that. Nothing really. I just asked him what you could eat."
"You could've asked me that."
"Yeah, true. But your ass would only lie."
Jim can't argue that. She glances down and notes the sloppy assortment of baked beans, collard greens, potato salad and grilled chicken.
"Stop looking at it like that. It's not going to kill you. Everything I put on your plate is the stuff that your Dr. Bones made, so I think he knows its safe for you to eat it cause he knows what's in it," Florence remarks as she continues to tear into her plate of food.
Jim starts to eat, but she eats slowly and carefully. It becomes apparent that she's not in danger of throwing it all up when she's able to clear the entire plate.
Florence is more than happy to make her a second plate.
Jim starts with the baked beans this time because they taste sweet and she's craving sweet.
Florence pops open an orange soda and asks, "So what's the deal with you and Dr. Bones? You guys are usually thick as thieves, aren't you?"
"He and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now."
"Awe," Florence teases. "You two have your first fight?"
Jim scoffs. "Trust me, that wasn't our first fight."
"Well have you ever gone this long without talking to him because of something you guys couldn't agree on?"
Jim frowns. "No," she reluctantly admits.
"Then there you have it. This is your first official falling out," Florence states decisively. "I have hope for you two crazy kids though. You're made for each other. I feel that in my gut."
Jim rolls her eyes and clears her plate for the second time.
"So what were you guys arguing about?"
"How you can never mind your own damn business."
Florence throws her head back and laughs.
Jim feels her lips twitch before she starts chuckling again. She shoves her plate at Florence. "Go get me some more collard greens."
"Go get them yourself since I can't mind my own damn business," Florence snidely remarks but she's grinning. She digs in her pocket for a folded note and she presses it into Jim's hand with a wink. "Remember what we talked about," she says as she nods to the end of the buffet table where Kevin is, making himself another plate as he chats with one of his aunts.
Jim nods and stands with the folded note in hand. She treks over to the buffet table and watches Kevin closely for the right opportunity to talk to him. While she waits, she gets a sizeable portion of collard greens and contemplates grabbing a piece of cornbread but she doesn't want to risk messing up her 'no regurgitation' streak.
Kevin is alone and Jim approaches him with a friendly smile. He smiles back and says, "Ms. Kirk, I'm glad you could find your way out."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Sheriff," Jim replies and grabs his hands in a gentle squeeze, passing the folded note to him with a significant look on her face.
Kevin gives a noticeable pause but other than that he doesn't give any other indication of what Jim has just done. He just curls his fingers around the note and slips his hand in his pocket as he uses his other hand to steady his plate of food. He smiles slightly, just for show, and says, "Please, Ms. Kirk. Kevin will do just fine."
"Only if you call me Jim."
"Can do." Kevin gives a final nod, taking a moment to glance around before he nods again. "I'm sure we'll be talkin' real soon, Jim."
"I'll be counting on it, Kevin," Jim easily returns. She watches as he returns to the picnic table and it doesn't escape her notice that Bones is looking at the both of them with an indecipherable expression on his face. She doesn't dwell on what that could mean or what he could be thinking. She just turns away and makes her way back over to Florence.
Florence watches her eat before she asks, "Everything go okay?"
"I think so."
"Good. Now here's where you leave the rest to me."
The sky gets dark and the kids run around with sparklers. There's some talk of a fireworks show in Town Square, so everyone does his or her part to pack up the food and clean the backyard.
Jim, who's fallen asleep with her head in Florence's lap, stirs and stretches with a content sigh.
Eleanora walks over with Pauline and says, "We're goin' out to Town Square for the lights show. You two better come along now if you're goin'."
Jim nods and stands, grabbing her water bottle and linking arms with Florence as they head to Eleanora's truck. There's a moment when her eyes searches out Bones, and when she doesn't find him, she tries not to feel restless.
The four of them climb into Eleanora's truck and they drive into the center of town where there's a brass statue of the founding men. The small park that everyone begins to set lawn chairs and blankets on begins to fill quickly.
Pauline finds a good spot and Florence helps Eleanora spread a blanket out over the grass so the four of them can sit down.
When Florence folds her legs under herself like a pretzel, Jim sits in front of her, leans back and props her head in her lap. She smiles up at Florence and gives her a thumbs up as the announcer counts down to the fireworks show.
The first firework explodes in the blackened sky in glittering colors of red, white, and blue. The ones that follow vary in size and shape-but most of them all follow the continuing theme of Independence Day.
It's a decent distraction for a while, but then Jim has to use the bathroom and it becomes all about hunting down a porta-potty. She has to maneuver her way through the hordes of people but she finds some portable toilets at the edge of the park. She holds her breath as she pees because the smell is pretty sickening. When she exits she bumps into a body and stumbles back with half of a curse word on her tongue.
"I'm so sorry!" a voice says and when Jim balances herself out she notices the voice belongs to Allison Loftus.
"It's okay," Jim assures and she can't help but to notice the way Allison's eyes are puffy and watery while her nose is red and her bottom lip is trembling. "Um-are you okay?"
Allison sniffs but nods frantically. "I'm fine," she lies as she clutches a full black plastic bag of garbage. She seems to be struggling with it but she manages to toss it into a nearby dumpster.
"Forgive me for saying, but, you don't look fine," Jim says. "Is there-can I help you?"
Allison's bottom lip trembles again. "Honestly, I couldn't bother you with my problems-"
"Allison, please," Jim gently interjects. "I doubt your issues could ever trump mine. Now how can I help you?"
Allison sniffs again. "Well," she starts. "Today, I was in charge of the food drive over at the Hudson Hill Youth Shelter. It was me and some other people that worked the event but they've all gone off to spend the rest of the day with their families and I stayed behind to deal with the cleaning because I am a pushover who doesn't know how to say no and so now I'm stuck dealing with all these dishes and trash and everythin'." She pauses as she gets watery-eyed.
Jim reaches out and pats her shoulder in an attempt to console her. "Um, well, I could help you, if you want. I'm not doing anything important, and honestly I could use the distraction," she admits.
Allison perks up as she wipes away her tears. "Really? Oh, Jim, I would be so grateful if you did. By myself it would take forever but with someone else it can be done. Oh thank you so much." She pulls Jim into an unexpected hug.
Jim blinks in surprise and awkwardly pats Allison on the back. "No problem. Always happy to help," she says.
Allison pulls away with a genuine smile before she grabs Jim's hand and leads her across the street and up the block to the youth shelter. "The kids aren't here. They all went to go watch the fireworks show," she explains as she leads Jim to the cafeteria and then further back in the kitchens where a gang of dishes awaits them. "If you could take care of this, I'll go finish clearin' out the cafeteria. I'll come back and help you when I'm done."
Jim nods and accepts the seaweed green rubber gloves that Allison procures for her before she exits the kitchens. Jim puts on the gloves and they go far up to her elbows, and before she begins washing she calls Eleanora and tells her what's happening so that she doesn't worry about why she hasn't returned.
Jim pockets her communicator and gets to work with cleaning, electing to begin with the clear tumbler cups since it's the easiest and quickest task. By the time she's rinsing out the last cup and setting it in the steel storage racks, Allison is slipping on some dark orange rubber gloves and saddling up beside her.
As they work in tandem, Allison says, "Thank you again for helpin'."
"It's no problem," Jim assures again. "I don't get why they abandoned you. I'd jump at any opportunity to be alone with a gorgeous lady like you." She wiggles her eyebrows.
Allison laughs, clearly flattered. "I heard you were a terrible flirt like Zuhi," she confesses.
Jim's furrows her brow. "Rumors, huh? What else do they say about me? Better yet, who's been saying them?"
Allison looks embarrassed and guilty. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to say that," she says. "It's nothin' really. Just things I heard the other girls say. I don't pay it any attention cause they can be horrid and petty. Like my gram says, if you can't come pleasantly, then don't come at all."
Jim hums thoughtfully as she scrubs a plate clean. "You volunteer often?" she asks, changing the subject so she doesn't get upset.
"As much as I can," Allison supposes. "For as long as I could. I love anythin' to do with kids, and well, I just get to feelin' down about the fact that these kids got a rough deal in life."
"I can relate to rough," Jim mutters and almost regrets saying it immediately after. "I think it's nice you're showing that you care. Things like that count, I think."
Allison nods quickly in agreement. "They're all so very pleasant too. They're nicer to me than most the people I know. I get that everyone in town likes to think of me as a slow-witted and naive girl who can't tell left from right. But I have my qualities, I suppose. What I don't got in brains, I make up for in heart," she decides.
Jim feels a twinge at that. "There's different kinds of cleverness. What's stupid is trying to label just one brand of intelligent," she offers as an alternate viewpoint.
"Oh, well, that's sweet of you to say, really," Allison says with a gentle smile. "Fact is that I'm not all that clever. I been held back more times then I could count and I dropped out of high school from pure frustration and cause it overwhelmed me. I always mean to try and get my GED but, well, I can't seem to get it together." She shrugs in a sad show of accepted defeat.
Jim frowns and says, "What do you want to do? I mean, ultimately, what would you like to be able to do?"
"I don't know," Allison says as she scrubs out a pot. "I guess it would be anythin' to do with kids. Maybe a teacher? But what can I teach them? I barely can get taught myself."
"Stop being so hard on yourself. Everyone has something to offer," Jim reasons.
"Easy for you to say," Allison murmurs. "I heard you graduated high school early and that you got aptitude tests that are off the charts and-gosh, there I go again. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be throwin' your business in your face like that."
"Allison, listen," Jim says as she grabs Allison's wrist to get her to pause. "What are you good at? Irrefutably."
Allison studies Jim's face as she thinks. It takes a moment but she says, "Well, when I was ten, I used to go to the Rec Center and tuck away in the music room where they keep all the instruments. I never did anythin' at first. I just liked lookin' at them and hearin' the others play. But one day I picked up a flute and started playin'. Pretty soon I was doin' it with the rest of the instruments and I was found out by one of the advanced music teachers there and he said that I had amazin' pitch. Music always comes easy to me. Never had to try hard at readin' it or figurin' it out. I just know."
"Allison," Jim says as she smiles slowly. "Are you telling me that you can play any instrument?"
Allison nods like it's not a big deal when it clearly is.
"And you never took lessons?"
"Tried to," Allison says with a huff of agitation. "But each teacher I went to said I was just wastin' their time cause there was nothin' they could teach me that I couldn't already figure out in a second on my own."
Jim stares at her speechlessly. "Do you know how incredible that is?" she says and she makes a wild gesture with her hands to back this statement. "That is genius!"
Allison blinks in surprise. "Yeah? You think so?"
"I know so. You could be a music instructor if you wanted to," Jim says and she feels genuinely happy in this moment. "You could teach at Julliard!"
"You-you think so?" Allison asks timidly and she looks so very doubtful. "I don't know about all that. Who'd hire a high school drop out?"
"Listen, fuck that," Jim says, barely containing her excitement as she comes up with an idea. "I'll tell you what, I'll help you get your GED. I can tutor you, but in return you have to teach me how to play an acoustic guitar. Deal?"
Allison makes a show of mulling it over before she sticks out her hand, and when Jim grabs it, she exclaims, "Deal."
They spend the rest of their time washing out pots and dishes and utensils as they discuss future plans and goals. Allison suggests they meet at the library in one of the study rooms, spending an hour where Jim tutors her and then an hour where Allison tutors her. Jim suggests that they start meeting right away and at least meet up every night that they can because the sooner the better.
Allison hugs Jim again when they finish cleaning. She offers to give Jim a ride home and Jim graciously accepts.
Before Jim climbs out of her car when they reach Eleanora's house, she and Allison exchange comm links. Jim waves goodbye as she yawns and treks up the porch steps to the front door. Allison drives off and Jim tucks away in the house, locking the door behind her.
The house is dead silent, which is not surprising since it's pretty late. Jim figures that Pauline and Eleanora are sleeping, so she takes off her boots and quietly finds her way to her room. She locks her door behind her and strips down to her underwear because she's just that hot. She goes to her windows and opens every single one of them, sighing in relief as the cool night air slithers inside. She then crawls into bed and shoves the large purple stuffed ape off before grabbing a pillow to hug to her chest.
Jim lies awake for a while, processing the past week in her mind as her hand slips down her body and settles on her lower stomach. She feels something in her chest tremble, and before she can think of why, she starts crying. It's different this time though. She's not crying because she's sad. She's crying because she's starting to come to terms with the fact that she's pregnant and that the notion of her being a mother is becoming a very real possibility.
Jim rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling with glossy eyes. She's coming to the conclusion that something in her life has to give. So she thinks about Bones's words, about stability.
How can she achieve stability when she's so infrequently satisfied? How can she carve out a profitable future for both herself and her child? What's the safest route? What's the smartest track? What's the most promising course?
And that's when, without even meaning to, she thinks of the one place she's been avoiding all along.
Starfleet.
Chapter 7
Author's Note: Full circle, huh? Please do me the kindest favor by satisfying my selfish need for comments, reviews, and criticism. It helps my inspiration.