Chapter Text
“Nicole, slow down. It’s getting dark.” Waverly says for the third time, watching the shadows of the trees whip by, and for the third time, Nicole shakes her head.
“No,” she grunts.
Every time the Jeep hits a pothole Waverly floats from her seat and gets that fluttery feeling in her stomach. Allowing Nicole to drive was against her better judgment, especially after Nicole admitted to flunking her driver’s test more than once. It isn’t surprising considering she’s terrible at taking directions, and disregards the speed limits altogether.
“What if you hit something?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know...a person?”
Nicole drags her eyes off the road long enough to stick Waverly with a questioning glance. Waverly double…no, triple checks her seatbelt. It’s unnerving, those dark eyes lingering over her, while Nicole, being such a wild and impetuous thing, blindly drives them into the night. The fear grows as one of Nicole’s hands falls from the steering wheel and lands in her lap.
“What person?” she challenges.
“Geez Louise. Any person, Nicole!”
Nicole shrugs one shoulder, so easy to dismiss Waverly, as if her worries are complete and utter nonsense, and no one in the history of time has ever been in a car accident. “I don’t see anyone.”
There isn't anyone. Not around here. People don’t willingly wander down the highway on foot. No sane person anyway. Though, that’s not enough assurance for Waverly to feel any better about Nicole’s inattentive driving.
It doesn’t matter. She could argue with Nicole all night and it would be as good as screaming at a brick wall. She slouches in her seat and accepts it. Nicole’s grumpassery isn’t going to ruin her excitement for The Ghost River County Fair. Nicole’s never taken her on a date before, and fuck it , she’s pretty darn stoked.
Nicole jabs her finger into the stereo console and cranks up the volume. Waverly slaps her hands over her ears. All aboard! belts out of the speakers and the sudden volume shakes her like an earthquake. Discombobulated and overwhelmed, she throws herself back against her seat for a dramatic second. Crazy Train ruptures her eardrums.
“Nicole!” she yells, but is not heard. She can barely find the stereo console through the chest-rattling bass that’s somehow blinding, and the heavy metal strums of the electric guitar. “Too loud!”
After some manic fumbling around the center console she manages to smack it in the right spot, stopping the violent noise pollution. Her ears ring at a dizzying volume. “I think I’m deaf,” she whines.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Nicole says and reaches for the dial again. Waverly swats her hand away.
“No loud rock music!” she yells through the ringing. She massages her screaming ears in an attempt to soothe them back to normal. “The passenger gets to DJ , everybody knows that,” she points out.
Nicole glares at Waverly. The Jeep makes a slight swerve. Waverly’s hands drop to the seat and her fingers dig into the upholstery.
“You never let me DJ when I’m the passenger.”
“That’s because it’s my Jeep. Car owners make the rules.”
“You mean you make the rules...like always,” Nicole mumbles. She refocuses on the road in front of her and makes a turn off the highway toward the fairgrounds. Streetlights brighten their path and bring some relief to Waverly.
The ringing in her ears subsides enough that she doesn’t feel like she has to yell. “Happy wife. Happy life,” she recites in a sing-song voice, and adjusts her seatbelt from where it cuts into her neck. In the likely event Nicole rear-ends someone she doesn’t want to be decapitated.
“Except when that wife is me.”
“Now who’s being dramatic.”
From the back of the Jeep, Eliza clears her throat, shattering the illusion that this is a normal date between a normal couple. The reality of TV life involves a lot of Eliza, Robin, and Derek crammed into the backseat, and GoPros suction cupped to the windows.
“A little less bickering maybe?” Robin suggests. “How about some light conversation.”
Waverly sags against her seat and lets her head roll to face Nicole. She bats her eyes, though she doubts it has the effect she’s going for. “Did you sleep okay?” she asks.
Nicole is silent. She’s not a small talker. That’s been obvious from day one. Sometimes she’ll talk about books or music, and the laundry list of things she has to fix around the house. Does she ever fix anything though? Who knows? The only thing Nicole does is disappear into that locked room and come out all sweaty in her dirty coveralls.
Admittedly, Waverly doesn’t hate the sight of it. Her blinding infatuation dampens out any curiosities about that room. Nine times out of ten she finds herself following Nicole up the stairs and they end up naked and wet together in the shower.
Picturing Nicole that way sends a rush of heat up Waverly’s neck that spills into her cheeks and stings her ears. F ocus Earp. She swallows and tries again. “Did you fix that zappy thing the hall light switch does?”
More silence. Waverly concedes. With her arms folded across her chest in a childlike way, she slouches a little more in the car seat, pouting. She can barely see over the dashboard now. “Well, you’re awfully chatty today.”
A heavy sigh escapes the driver’s seat. Nicole hits the brakes abruptly. The seatbelt tightens against Waverly’s throat, and the Jeep slows to a safe thirty-five miles per hour.
“Did you sleep okay?” Nicole asks.
“I did,” Waverly chirps, and straightens up in her seat a little. “I got a whole six hours before I woke up cold. Why were you up so early?” She situates herself to see Nicole the best she can within the limits of her seatbelt. It cuts against her throat again. “What were you doing in the locked room...and why is it always locked?”
Nicole dodges Waverly’s questions with her own. “Did you clean your stack of women’s magazines off the coffee table? They’ve been there for over a week.”
“They’re not women’s magazines,” Waverly protests. “They’re home design magazines. I want to paint—”
“There,” Nicole cuts her off with a sharp gesture of her hand. “We’re all caught up.”
“Such a grumpy pants today,” Waverly mutters to herself. “And slow down. It’s twenty-five through here.”
“Yes, dear.” Nicole teases with a flippant tone. Her gaze drifts out the driver's side window. It could be Waverly’s imagination, but she’s almost certain she sees a smile in the reflection of the glass.
Waverly isn’t deterred by Nicole’s facetious attitude. She immediately refocuses on their first date. “Sugarbear?” she purrs, and drags a light finger up Nicole’s arm.
Nicole groans. “Honestly Waverly, of all the names you could call me, you settle on Sugarbear ,” she says wrinkling up her face like it tastes bad.
“It’s cute.” Waverly grins. “because you’re full of candy and you’re cuddly like a bear, mostly at night…well only at night really. You’re a grumpy bear all day, but you’re cute all the same.”
Nicole laughs.
“I could call you Sugarplum?” Waverly offers.
“Don’t be cruel.”
“Sugar baby?”
“You’re getting colder.”
Waverly smirks and leans over the center console. She twirls her finger around Nicole’s ear tucking a lock of hair there. “It could be, Sugar Daddy ?” she says soft and slightly insinuating.
Nicole laughs again and the Jeep slows to twenty-five.
“No,” she says. Her hand falls to Waverly’s thigh and she gives it a little squeeze. “Sugarbear is fine.”
Waverly grins, satisfied with the agreed-upon endearment, and drops back into her seat, fingers laced with Nicole’s resting in her lap. “Okay, Sugarbear.”
***
Already overexcited and bouncing on her toes, Waverly knots her fingers into Nicole’s t-shirt tugging her closer.
“Careful with the shirt, sweetheart,” Nicole warns swaying in her grasp.
Waverly releases it and runs her hands over Nicole’s abdomen, smoothing out the creases she created. She thought Rosita was going to have an aneurysm after Nicole meandered downstairs wearing, I licked it so it’s mine, printed on her cut-off t-shirt, and her usual black ripped skinny jeans. Nicole argued she was tired of PGE treating her like a doll, and that pretty blue tank top Rosita picked soared out the bedroom window.
In fairness, Waverly is tired of dresses. She took Nicole’s lead and selected clothes from her own wardrobe, white denim shorts and a red tank top.
“ Ooh can we go on the Tilt-A-Whirl? That’s my favorite,” Waverly exclaims hooking her fingers in Nicole’s belt loops instead and swaying her a little more.
Nicole shakes her head. In the two minutes it took them to enter the fair and buy tickets, Nicole tracked down a stick of cotton candy like a bloodhound for sugar. She twirls the fluff around her finger and sucks it clean.
“You can’t ride those,” she says. She pinches another wispy bite from the blue and pink spun sugar, and stuffs it into her mouth. Waverly can smell it as if the over-sweetened grit were on the back of her tongue. “You’re preggers, remember?”
Waverly gazes at the Tilt-A-Whirl longing for all the centrifugal fun it has to offer. Uncle Julian used to ride it with her for hours when she was a kid, or until Wynonna threw up. “I’m tired of being pregnant,” she pouts.
“Well, that’s what happens when you...” Nicole clears her throat. Her attempt to make a rude gesture with her hands, nearly costs her the stick of cotton candy. “It’s been two months, you’ve got seven to go, little mama.”
Waverly stomps her foot in a childish protest, and with fingers held up, she lists off her counterpoints. “Okay, first of all. Rude. Second,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’m not really preggers.”
“I know that, but for this date, you are. So, no crazy rides.” Nicole pinches off an even bigger bite this time and tilts her head back to fill her mouth with it. Waverly glares in disgust.
“Why’d you bring me here then if we can’t do anything fun?”
Nicole shrugs. “Cotton candy.”
Of course, it’s always about the candy. Why is she surprised? “Really dude?”
Waverly wilts. Here she thought she might get a little romance tonight, but the only romance to be had is between Nicole and her candy. Waverly folds her arms over her chest and scowls at the line to the Tilt-A-Whirl, jealous of all the children.
“Alright ladies, let’s get your mics fitted and we’ll get started,” Eliza says meandering over with Robin by her side like the perfect little sidekick. Dave, who showed up seemingly out of nowhere, and Derek follow close behind. Derek’s camera is twice as big as it appeared in the Jeep.
Robin untangles two cords and hands one to Nicole and one to Waverly. At this point Waverly feels like a pro snaking the cord under her tank top and fastening the mic to her collar. Robin hooks the transmitter pack to the back of her shorts and connects the two pieces.
Dave unzips his own camera. It hangs at his side for the time being.
“Alright, so here’s your cue cards so we can avoid another Jeep scenario. We need a little more fairy tale romance from the two of you, and a lot less late-night family sitcom,” Robin instructs.
Waverly accepts the notecard from him. Before she can make out a word, Nicole plucks it from her fingers. Nicole compares it to her own notecard, face all scrunched up with obvious irritation. The notecards are filed together, and Nicole rips them both into tiny pieces. They’re then sprinkled in the dirt around her feet, along with the bare cotton candy stick.
“Pick that up,” Robin demands, but it’s weak and Nicole is clearly not intimidated. “That’s PGE property. We can’t go spreading it around all willy-nilly.”
Eliza’s not paying attention. Her eyes are lost in the LCD screen of her phone. Nicole stares at her and drags her foot through the notecard dotted dirt, smearing them around. “We’re not really notecard people,” she says.
Then Eliza claps her hands together without any acknowledgment of Nicole’s insubordination. “Let’s roll.” She shooes everyone onward in the direction of the game booths.
“If we can’t ride the rides, what are we going to do?” Waverly asks Nicole.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart. This date is about you.”
“But you said you just wanted cotton candy!” Waverly reminds her.
Nicole chuckles. “I was just teasing you. I brought you here because I thought you would like it.”
“Oh,” Waverly hesitates, not completely convinced.
They wander between the booths past games with darts and water balloons, bb guns, and tiny basketballs, all bleeding out the mechanical chime of carnival music. Derek hovers over their shoulders. His presence is as wanted as a fly at a picnic. Waverly does her best to ignore him and focus on her date with Nicole.
“So, tell me what you want, and we’ll do it...except the rides,” Nicole says. Her eyes flicker in the direction of Dave’s camera gliding alongside them. “It’s not good for the baby.”
Waverly considers that Nicole may be slipping into one of her roles now that the cameras are watching. This is a show and Nicole likes the attention. It’s clear how easy it is for her to play pretend and give PGE what they want, or something more grandiose. Sometimes Waverly feels like she is only a prop for Nicole to act with, rather than a member of the team. Though Nicole reassures her that Waverly’s not only part of the team, she’s the captain. Waverly tries to remember that when Nicole makes a decision like the one to lie about her pregnancy.
“ Right .” Waverly winks. She wants this to be real—the good things, the kisses, the loving gestures, all the pretty words Nicole saves for when they’re alone. She holds onto them hoping they’re real, and more and more often, they seem to be.
“I want you to show me a good time. I want to have fun and be cute with you. You know, with hand-holding and prized stuffed unicorns.”
“Is that all?” Nicole laughs.
“Yes.”
“We’re rolling. Don’t waste my time, ladies,” Eliza butts in.
Nicole cocks her head adorably. “Alright,” she says. Narrowing her big honey brown eyes, she offers a deep dimpled smile. One that makes Waverly dizzier than any Tilt-A-Whirl would. “I’ll show you a good time. I’ll win you that unicorn,” she nods to the game behind them at a man struggling to land a ping pong ball in a greased-up glass bowl. He misses. “ And a goldfish, because Sugarbear is good at all games. We can do whatever you want after that.”
Waverly takes Nicole’s hands. Lacing their fingers together, she gazes up at that dimpled smile. The action causes her to sway. She wants this to be real almost more than anything right now. The thought that Nicole wants to spend time with her, doing something exciting and fun, making her night special, it feels as if her heart could burst, and it would be all right.
Still the uncertainty restrains her. She doesn’t want to get all excited only to be disappointed when Nicole tells her that this was only a game. “Are you just pretending right now…for the cameras?” She whispers.
“No,” Nicole says. “I’ll prove it to you when I take you to the top of the Ferris Wheel and kiss you during the fireworks. After all that, we’ll go home, and I’ll show you a good time there too,” she winks.
Waverly beams. She pushes up on her tippy toes and pulls Nicole in for a chaste kiss.
They meander further through the games until they come across a wall of empty Monster cans, which Nicole systematically ping down one by one with an airsoft gun. The disgruntled game attendant unhooks the giant stuffed unicorn from the overhang before returning to reset the wall.
“That’s one,” Nicole smirks.
Waverly squeezes the unicorn excitedly into her side.
The smug look on Nicole’s face doesn’t fade at the fishbowl game, where Nicole wins Waverly two goldfish, and somewhere on the way to the livestock stables, Nicole wins Waverly a blow-up giraffe too. The giraffe is handed off to Robin allowing Waverly to hold Nicole’s hand as they stroll past the piglets and the goats.
They stop at a row of calves, all investigating the children poking and prodding them through the gaps in their enclosures. Waverly empathizes with their lack of privacy and the constant demand to perform. At least the only one poking and prodding her is Rosita with a flat iron and a mascara wand.
“Waverly, I’m bringing this home. We’ve bonded and I can’t let go,” Nicole coos staring into the little brown calf’s eyes as its thick black tongue curls around her hand.
Waverly leans against the gate next to her and scratches the calf on the top of the head. “It is cute”, Waverly admits. “Where are we going to put it? The locked room? It could be the baby cow room.”
“What about the garage?” Nicole offers, as if either suggestion is a viable option.
“I still don't know where that is,” Waverly confesses.
Nicole pries her eyes away from the cow and gives Waverly a patronizing look. “How is that possible? It’s literally attached to the house.”
Waverly stands her ground. That house is like Hogwarts. She finds new nooks and crannies all the time. “Well, where’s the door then?”
Nicole rolls her eyes and returns to the cow.
“Seriously, where’s the door?”
“Waverly, come on. You’re just being silly now.”
Waverly gathers up her hair and drapes it over one shoulder. While combing it out with her fingers she frowns dissatisfied. Her house is a mystery and so is her wife, with hidden garages and secret operations behind locked doors. She’s embarrassed to admit, it took her three weeks after moving in to notice the laundry room. She was still doing her laundry at the laundromat above her old apartment until Nicole took her by the hand and led her there. Maybe Waverly is ridiculously oblivious, or distracted, but in her defense, that door looked like a closet.
“He’s not going to fit into the Jeep. Let’s look at the chickens.”
“We can’t have a chicken,” Nicole whines. “Calamity Jane might eat it and she’s already getting so fat.”
Eliza insists they act as excited as any parent-to-be should and go observe the Tractor Track kid races. Nicole has other ideas. In her continued rebellion, Nicole flings Waverly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marches them toward the beer garden before Robin pulls the contract card, and Waverly has to drag Nicole back. After a while of cooing and awing at the little kids peddling by on plastic tractors and with the sun fully faded into the horizon, Waverly grows restless and tired.
“I’m ready to sit. My feet are killing me, and these goldfish are starting to feel like a million pounds.”
Nicole shifts the unicorn under her arm and reaches for the goldfish, “want to trade?”
“No,” Waverly whines and leans half her weight against Nicole with her arms around Nicole’s waist. “Nap time.”
Nicole chuckles. With her free arm draped over Waverly’s shoulders she kisses the top of Waverly’s head, “Not yet.”
“It’s almost midnight, Nicole.” Eliza barks.
“Fireworks.”
Nicole leads Waverly to the Ferris Wheel, where they’re stalled at the end of a long line of anxiously waiting fairgoers.
“Looks like everyone has the same idea,” Waverly sulks, already mourning the kiss she’ll never get at the top of the Ferris Wheel.
Nicole tugs Waverly under her arm and says, “Yeah, but we’re not everyone.”
They bypass the long line and go straight to the front. The carnival operator nods to Nicole as if they’re good friends as they approach. A wave of groans ripples through the line when he opens the gate, allowing Nicole, Waverly, and their PGE entourage to enter the ride.
“How’d you do that?” Waverly asks.
With a smug look on her face, Nicole gracefully sweeps a lock of hair from Waverly’s face and tucks it behind her ear. “I convinced Eliza to get PGE to buy out the Ferris Wheel...for you.”
“So, it’s all to ourselves?”
“Yup.”
“This better be the most ooey-gooey shit I’ve ever seen ladies!” Eliza hollers from the cart behind them where she sits next to Derek and his camera.
Waverly ignores her, grinning like a love-drunk fool as they slowly ascend into the night. This is better than the Tilt-A-Whirl.
“See, I told you I would show you a good time.”
“The best time.”
Waverly snuggles into Nicole’s side with her goldfish in her lap. The fireworks erupt in her chest and glitter takes over the sky just as they reach the very top of the Ferris Wheel, where it comes to a stop. It’s almost enough to ignore the camera in the cart just below them filming, what Waverly can only imagine, is their feet.
“Waverly?” Nicole says in a small almost shy voice.
Waverly angles her head enough see Nicole’s throat bobs as if whatever she wants to stay is caught in there and she struggles to either swallow it or get it out.
Nicole leans away, staring off into the distance, she runs her fingers through her hair. The other hand fidgets with the vape pen in her pocket and she exhales. “I’m divorced.” she confesses as if it weren’t a well-known fact.
A slight smile turns up the corner of Waverly’s lips, “I think all of America knows that...but if they didn’t, they will now.”
“I know I—” Nicole pauses, shakes her head, and sighs. “I can’t do this.” Her fidgeting hands disappear behind her back and she disconnects the mic attached to the waistband of her pants.
“What are you doing?” Waverly asks shifting away. Nicole snakes her hands around Waverly’s waist nearly losing the unicorn and disconnects Waverly’s too.
“I’m not good at this, Waverly…but I want to be.” Nicole confesses before situating herself against the chair. “When I was a kid, I used to play a lot of Super Mario Brothers. I’d play for hours and I’d get really far only to die. Then it’s game over,” she shrugs. “I’d have to start all the way from the beginning. It made me not want to play anymore because it was so damn discouraging. That’s how it felt to get divorced, but a million times worse.” She pauses to gather her thoughts. Shaking her head again, “You asked me a question. It’s just—”
An empty, almost nauseating sensation digs into the pit of Waverly’s stomach. Her mind stews in the number of things Nicole might say. I don’t love you. I do love you, but…I can’t love you. I still love Shae.
She takes a deep breath, preparing for the worst, but sitting next to Nicole, scanning her as she struggles to find the right words, her hands in her hair again, it reminds Waverly. The way Nicole looks at her. It’s more than lust swimming around in Nicole’s eyes, there’s something deeper there. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before, still sits on her lips every night before bed. It’s not I love you , but it’s some kind of affirmation and it’s not any less wanted.
“Wait,” Waverly interrupts. It’s hard to swallow the fear of falling in love and not being loved in return. Waverly thought she needed to hear it first, someone confessing their love before she could even open herself up to it. It never occurred to her that Nicole might need someone to go first too. “You don’t have to say anything else.”
“I feel like I should.”
“I think you care about me.” Waverly whispers.
“I do. More than anything.” Nicole whispers back with a gentle smile.
All around them the fireworks light up the night sky like magic, and somehow, they’re most beautiful blossoming in the reflection of Nicole’s honey gold eyes. It always takes her by surprise, the things Nicole can do to her, with just a look. I t’s just a face, just a smile, an extra thump-thump in her chest. Still, Waverly gasps a little, because in this moment, everything feels perfect. If falling for Nicole means losing all the air in her lungs, then she never cared about breathing anyway.
“Then that’s all I need to know right now.”
“Okay.”
Nicole’s lips find Waverly’s, and for a moment she almost forgets about the goldfish. They nearly wobble from her lap. “I care about you more than anything too,” Waverly confesses, and even that aches in her chest, but it’s exciting. She presses another kiss to Nicole’s lips and the fireworks boom around them, and all of it takes her breath away.
“Those sons of bitches unhooked their mics, didn’t they?”
***
“Jesus!” Waverly gasp, clutching at her racing heart and holding the Jeep door to steady herself. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Champ slinks around the corner, head hung like a guilty dog, looking skeezy as ever—his hands stuffed in his front pockets, shoulders pulled up to his earlobes, and… are those tears in his eyes ?
As always, guilt flares inside of her, making a nauseating pit out of her stomach. God forbid she hurts his feelings, and for a second she almost reaches out to him, to comfort him. Of course, she does. She’s conditioned that way.
“Waverly, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but my calls aren’t going through.”
The feeling is short-lived. It dissipates almost as quickly as it appeared. She’s beyond this now. Vows were made. He is not her problem anymore. “I blocked your number. Sorry,” she says, blowing him off with a shrug, and makes a thwarted attempt to pass him. “Excuse me.”
With his feet sturdy on the ground, and a body built like a linebacker, he walls off Waverly’s path between the Jeep and the Hyundai parallel to it. Waverly knows Champ isn’t dangerous, not physically anyway, and yet it doesn’t make her feel any less like a hostage.
“Wait,” he says closing the space between them with a gesture of his hands. He moves forward with heavy feet, and Waverly shuffles back. “We need to talk.”
She shakes her head. This guy doesn’t take no for an answer. It’s always been this way no matter what she says, he always has a grip on her. Even now she feels his fingers pressing into her. Not that she has the slightest urge to go back to him. It’s not that. It’s just that he’s physically in her way.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she asserts, surprised at the conviction in her tone, she stands a little taller.
“You can’t keep me away from my baby, Waverly.”
Shitballs . Those words falling from his mouth are enough to turn her legs to jelly as a sharp chill scrapes down her spine. It was there in the back of her mind all along, she would have to talk to Champ about this, and she would have to lie to him just as she lied to everyone else.
Tears swell to the surface. She bites them back. She won’t cry in front of him. This isn’t what she wanted in the first place. She wanted to tell the truth and be done with it. Keep it together , she summons all her strength in the shake of her head. “I’m going to be late for work.”
“I want to be there for you...and for our kid.”
A few months ago, she might have fallen for his manipulative bullshit, now she’s disgusted at the thought of ever having a baby with Champ, horrified that that scary thought is what got her into this mess. The test was negative. She reminds herself. There is no baby, only a lie. “This is not our anything. This is mine to deal with.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nicole will help me.”
“You can’t be serious,” he laughs in disbelief. “She’s a thug, Waverly. I refuse to let you raise my baby around her.”
“Excuse me?” Waverly says, and her hands ball up into fists. Who does this jackass think he is? “Nicole is twice the man that you are…” she continues, then trails off. “Okay, that didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean!”
Waverly makes a second attempt to brush past him and he stalls her with a hand on her shoulder. The contact burns Waverly’s skin like hot oil.
“That’s my baby, Waverly,” he warns, and the possessive look in his eyes suggests he’s not just claiming the baby, he’s putting his shackles on her too. “I put it there, and you can’t keep me away from it.”
It’s a lot right now, fighting him, pleasing PGE, trying to be a normal fucking human being with a job and a happy relationship. This has been one of her biggest problems all long. Him . Top of the list of reasons to get the hell out of Purgatory. To get away from him.
“You know,” Waverly snaps, “You don’t own me, and as long as this baby is in my body, you can stay the fuck away from me.”
“Come on Waverly, do the right thing here. Let me take care of you.”
“Get it through your head, Champ. I don’t need you…and I don’t want you.”
His lips draw back in a snarl, but he says nothing in response. His hand slips from her shoulder to hang limply at his side and she squeezes past him.
“Don’t follow me.”
***
“Red-Headed Slut,” Chrissy says and twirls Waverly under her arm in a routine they’ve perfected over the years. Waverly giggles and spirals back in against her.
“Sex on my face.”
Chrissy pauses and leans back. “Seriously?”
“It’s real I swear!” Waverly laughs, and throws her head back with one leg out, toe pointed in the air, “Dip me.”
“Liquid Viagra,” Jeremy adds and sucks in hard on his straw, making a gurgling noise as he finishes his caramel Frappuccino.
“Dance with us Jer,” Waverly says.
He slouches against the counter shaking his head. The frappe cup is tossed in the trash. “I’d really rather not.”
“Boo!”
“Okay, next drink…the Screaming O...” Chrissy trails off as she and Waverly lose their rhythm, stumbling back into the counter. They giggle as they regain their footing.
“This isn’t a night club,” Gus snaps.
The two women halt their dance, still holding each other in a somewhat elegant embrace, and Jeremy turns around fiddling with something on the counter to appear busy.
“We’re out of straws,” Gus says. Her eyes bounce between the three of them, giving them each a stern I’m the boss look.
Waverly untangles herself from Chrissy and volunteers out of boredom. “I’ll get them!”
“Oh no, you won’t. There on the top shelf and there’s no way I’m letting you climb on a ladder in your condition.”
Waverly throws her head back and groans, “I’m pregnant, not useless, Aunt Gus.”
“Let Chrissy handle that.”
“ Or I could do it,” Jeremy offers.
“Jeremy. Register. Now.” Gus orders and points to the register where the first lone customer wonders in after about an hour of zero traffic.
With nothing else to do Waverly glances at the table in the back where Nicole sits hunched over a spread of paperwork, likely sprinkling around bits of lemon scone, as she works diligently on payroll.
“Since you guys seem to have it covered, I’m going to take a ten.”
Gus doesn’t acknowledge her slipping away.
The familiar sound of Nicole’s Monster hisses as Waverly slides out the chair across from her and plops down. The Monster fizzes down the side and she licks it off her finger.
“Hi sweetheart.”
Waverly slaps her hands on the table with a groan, “I’m bored.”
Just to make sure Nicole understands the extent of her pain she groans again and drops her head to the table, cheek pressed into the cool wood, and her arms dangle at her sides as if she lost the will to hold them up.
Nicole releases the paper pinched between her fingers and it flutters down with the rest. She leans in close to whisper against Waverly’s ear, “Want to go make out in the bathroom?”
Normally that would be a hell-to-the-no. Waverly’s at work, but the boredom is strong today. She shrugs, “Kind of, now.”
“That bad, huh?” Nicole laughs.
Waverly sits up with another hand slap to the table, this time tipping over the cup of sweeteners. “It’s a dead zone in here. I’ve organized and reorganized the self-service counter three times already…and no one’s even touched it but me.” She complains arranging the little packets back into the cup. “Everyone’s downtown listening to…you know who.”
The morning has been slow. The whole town is at City Hall listening to Bunny Loblaw’s plans to clean up crime and gang activity in Purgatory. Johnathan Clootie’s name was brought up in an interview earlier this week, for the Purgatory Chronicle, and the eradication of his business storefronts and therefore limiting his connections.
With that and their creepy baby shower gift, Nicole’s been on edge all morning. Don’t poke the bear, she keeps saying, and stressing over the ramifications of bringing Bulshar into the spotlight. It’s brought on a string of nightmares over the last few days leading up to it. Nicole mumbles the same thing over and over. It keeps Waverly up at night, listening, and wondering.
The Monster can bends under the pressure of Nicole’s fingers curling in, in response to she who shall not be named , before she takes it to her lips and chugs. There’s no further response. Nicole stuffs her face with scone and returns to her paperwork.
Back to entertaining herself, Waverly re-organizes the packets of sweeteners on the table, in order of the colors in a rainbow. There’s no point in going back to work yet. Chrissy and Jeremy are taking turns throwing coffee beans into each other’s mouths. That’s desperate, Waverly thinks. She thrums her fingers on the table looking as sweet and innocent as possible.
“Sugarbear?”
“Hm,” Nicole grunts.
Waverly walks her fingers across the table and over Nicole’s hand to her wrist and makes gentle circles with her thumb. “How have you been sleeping?”
“Fine. Why?”
“You’ve been talking a lot in your sleep…kind of like you’re having nightmares.”
“Weird,” Nicole says brushing it off and shaking Waverly from her wrist. “I did switch to Blow Pops. It’s probably that.”
“That doesn’t seem likely.”
“Hey,” Nicole exaggerates, and makes a sharp flick of her pen with every word. “I choked on the gum when I hit a speed bump.”
“That I can believe,” Waverly says and thrums her fingers on the table again. An image of Nicole chewing on a piece of Bubble Tape runs through her mind. The thought continues with Nicole smacking it between her teeth, and blowing cocky bubbles, as she zips down Main Street, hits a speed bump and eats the pavement. “Also, no more gum.”
“I’ll stop chewing gum when it stops being delicious,” Nicole snorts and returns to her papers.
That’s probably all the probing Waverly can get away with right now. She doesn’t want to poke this bear too hard and risk a stormy exit, but that damn boredom…
“It’s just that, you kept repeating this one thing—"
She’s interrupted and maybe it’s for the best. Eliza pops up at the end of the table, as she often does, wearing the kind of smile a gecko might wear. Robin’s to her left. She blinks. Waverly never realized how reptilian she looks.
“Ladies,” she announces.
Nicole lets her pen hit the table with a frustrated growl and grabs her Monster. She points to the can and says, “you’ll have to wait until I have this much…” she drags her finger three-quarters of the way down, “of my vitamins.”
Waverly nods and steals a piece of Nicole’s scone. For once she doesn’t dread Eliza’s visit or Nicole’s smart-ass remarks. Anything is entertainment at this point.
“You better get to chugging then,” Eliza commands and takes a seat next to Waverly. Robin situates himself next to Nicole. He sets a black duffle bag at his feet.
With her eyes on Eliza, Nicole chugs the whole thing, hissing loudly when it’s done. She then crushes the can in her fist while Waverly shovels more scone into her mouth as if she were in a theater munching on popcorn.
“Alright. Down to business.” Eliza says, and lifts her elbows to the table. “PGE has a request.”
“What?” Waverly says a little too eager. Then she remembers she’s pregnant , so whatever it is is probably not fun, and she sags in her chair.
The duffle rustles as Robin digs something out of it and lays it on the table. Both Nicole and Waverly share a look of disgust. It’s a plastic, but a very real looking baby doll. The thing is weird and smells like rubber and baby powder.
“For the next few days, PGE wants you to care for this baby like it’s your flesh and blood,” Eliza instructs.
“You want us to do what?” Nicole growls.
“PGE decided it would be uh...educational for all our contestants to spend a week as parents,” Robin says. He adjusts the small diaper, which is the only clothing the baby is wearing.
“That’s just gross,” Nicole spits. “I never liked dolls.”
“A little weird too,” Waverly adds. “All the couples on the show have to do this?”
“Yup,” Eliza confirms.
“But why?” Waverly asks. For real why? She doesn’t need this on top of a fake pregnancy. Her family’s really going to think she’s nuts. Plus, it has creepy eyelashes that move when Robin jostles it.
“Waverly, you’re going to be a new mother. I’m sure you’re excited…maybe a little bit scared,” Eliza muses. “Think of this as practice. For the real thing. Show America how good of a mother…” she pauses to glance at Nicole, and with a brief hesitation she continues, “ mothers you’re going to be.”
A pamphlet is slapped on the center of the table titled: How to Care for Your Ready-Or-Not Tot. Robin unfolds it on the table for them to see: Standard Ready-or-Not Tot® Parenting is forever, and it can happen whether you’re ready or not!
“Now, your day to day activity with the baby will be filmed, you’ll be prepared and geared for the full day.”
“Even in the house?” Nicole whines.
Waverly absentmindedly rubs Nicole’s shoulder while she reads the contents of the instructions. Parenting is work! It requires a great deal of time and energy. The demands of caring for a baby keep a parent on duty twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
Shit. That sounds terrible. Waverly thinks and flips the page. Your Ready-or-Not Tot® offers a variety of features to simulate the many aspects of caring for an infant.
“During business hours,” Eliza says with air quotes.
And Nicole replies with air quotes. “What are business hours?”
“Derek and Dave will call it a night at or before 7:00 pm,” she gauges.
“That’s fucking ridiculous. That’s well into my Nicole time.”
“Nicole time can wait,” Eliza snaps. “ All time is PGE time.”
Robin presents Waverly with something else. “Here are your bracelets. They have a receiver for the baby. This pamphlet will tell you how to meet your baby’s needs and how to use the bracelets.” He lifts out a small diaper bag from the larger duffle bag and sets it on the table next to the pamphlet. “And here are all the things you will need.”
Waverly inspects the items Robin handed her first. There is one pink bracelet labeled mommy, and one blue bracelet labeled daddy.
“We ran out of mommies,” Eliza shrugs, “So one of you gets the daddy bracelet. The baby won’t know the difference.”
Waverly shrugs and hands Nicole the daddy one, before digging into the diaper bag to investigate further.
“Why do I have to be the dad?” Nicole whines.
“There’s no dad,” Waverly says, as she retrieves a bottle from the bag. When she shakes it, it sloshes with something resembling milk. She brings it closer and squints to examine it. “No one is the dad.”
“Go ahead and fasten your bracelets,” Robin instructs. “Once they are secure you will not be able to remove them until I myself deactivate them. If you tamper with them in any way it will send a signal to our receiver.”
Waverly sets aside the bottle and re-examines the bracelet before snapping it in place. It’s not so bad. The pink is a bit garish, but she can live with it for a few days.
“What are you going to do about it if we do?” Nicole challenges as Waverly moves on to fasten the blue bracelet to Nicole’s wrist. Nicole holds out her wrist unenthusiastically.
“You don’t want to know,” Eliza warns.
Nicole scowls. She takes her wrist back and twists it to see “daddy” printed across the plastic. “This just will not do,” she says, plucking at it.
“Come on daddy, it’s only for a week,” Robin encourages. He digs the final item out of the duffle bag. A manila envelope. Waverly cringes. She knows what that means. The contents slip out in a neatly sorted packet that Robin proceeds to separate into two and slides one to Waverly and one to Nicole. “Now, just for the sake of legality, we do need to inform you of all your rights and obligations, and when you understand them please sign the last page.”
Nicole signs hers immediately without a glance and dismisses it to Robin. “I know how your games work,” she grumbles. If Nicole agrees to play, Waverly will too. She signs without more than scanning the first page and slides hers to Robin.
“Great,” Robin chuckles. The waivers are filed back into the manila envelope and tucked away in the duffle bag.
“We will leave you to it.” Eliza says already rising from her seat. “Dave and Derek will arrive bright and early. Be ready with that baby.”
Robin taps his finger twice on the open pamphlet and looks between them. “I recommend you get familiar with the pamphlet. You’ll need it.” He winks, then follows Eliza out the door.
The control box has a position sensor that monitors how the baby is handled. If the baby is held or placed incorrectly, it will cry until corrected.
Waverly picks up the baby, supporting its head before it flops back. It’s heavier than she imagined. “This says it has a sensor in its head. We have to support it like a real baby.”
“Great,” Nicole grunts.
“At specific times, the baby will cry to indicate that it needs to be fed.” Waverly reads and flips to the next page. “Ten seconds before the end of the feeding period, the baby will coo and then needs to be burped.”
Nicole packs up her stuff in her messenger bag before Waverly can even finish, and it’s slung over her shoulder. Kicking her chair in, she holds up two fingers, “peace.” Then leaves for the door.
“Okay, I’ll just take first shift then,” Waverly calls after her, getting no response.
If for some reason the student cannot figure out how to quiet the baby and panics, there is a Panic key that can be inserted to quiet the baby and terminate the present programmed event (Figure 4).
***
“What is that?” Waverly mumbles as her eyes slowly open and she recognizes the wailing coming from the other side of the room. “Nicole!”
Panicked and disoriented, she slaps at the end table for the lamp until she’s squinting at its brightness. “Nicole,” she repeats, and smacks Nicole on the ass to wake her.
Nicole shoots up into a sitting position, eyes still closed, and a mess of red hair tangled around her face, “I’m up.”
It is difficult to get a full night’s sleep when there is a newborn present. “The baby.”
The covers fly from Waverly’s legs and she slides out of the bed, legs wobbling as she makes her way toward the noise.
Nicole stumbles behind her. “Make it stop!”
It can be frustrating trying to determine what type of care the baby needs. “I don’t know how,” Waverly panics. She picks up the baby and attempts to soothe it, rocking it in her arms. “It’s not working.”
“Where’s the bottle?”
“It’s in that bag I think.”
Nicole rummages through the bag on the dresser and digs out the bottle. She thrusts it to Waverly. The baby continues to cry even with the bottle held to its mouth.
“That’s a terrible noise,” Nicole shouts with her hands cupping her ears. “It’s getting angrier.”
“Maybe the diaper?” Waverly suggests. At specific times, the baby will cry to indicate a Diaper Change is needed.
Nicole nods, diving into the diaper bag again throwing things to the floor in the process. She runs to the bed and fumbles to lay the diaper out, cringing when Waverly hands her the baby. It stops crying in Nicole’s arms.
“Huh,” Waverly says.
“Well, all better.” Nicole holds out the baby to Waverly expectantly.
“Careful with its head!” Waverly warns. As soon as the baby leaves Nicole’s hands and is cradled in Waverly’s arms, it cries louder than before. Waverly squeals. “What did I do?”
“Ugh, maybe it does need a diaper change. Give it here.” The baby stops again once it’s back in Nicole’s arms. She glares at it as if it were purposely playing tricks.
“I guess it just wanted you,” Waverly shrugs.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, daddy.” Waverly laughs.
Nicole continues to stare at the baby in horror. “Why?” she repeats.
“Good luck then.” Waverly chirps. She tosses the diaper aside and climbs back into bed.
“What are you doing?” Nicole asks with a hint of panic rising in her voice.
“Looks like you got it covered. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Yeah right.” Nicole snorts. She carries the baby back to its crib and carefully lays it down only for it to start crying again. “Oh, come on! You’re not real.”
Waverly snickers. “Maybe you could take it for a walk?”
Day or night, a baby’s needs come before all else. Feeding, diapering, holding, and loving are all vital elements of having a baby.
“A walk?”
“Yeah, walk around the living room until it gets sleepy.”
“It’s not alive,” Nicole gestures with her hands in frustration.
“Tell that to the baby.”
“Unbelievable.” Nicole groans and gathers the baby in her arms. “Who chooses this?” and she stomps out of the room.
Waverly’s asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.
***
“Mother fucker,” Waverly growls and Derek chases her out the door.
Nicole’s bike skids to a stop outside of Eden’s. Dave can be seen in the distance down the street, sweat dripping down his forehead, struggling to keep his balance with the camera fastened on the handlebars.
Nicole kicks her leg over her bike, then unclips her helmet. “Hey, sweetheart,” she smiles and leads the bike to the side of the building where she props it up. It’s impossible not to notice the milk crate fastened to the back of the bike with bungee cords forming some kind of a MacGyvered baby seat. The baby is strapped in with another bungee cord. At least Nicole had the brains to secure a piece of wood and a pillow to the back supporting its head.
“Don’t sweetheart me. What the hell is this?” Waverly demands pointing at the heinous contraption.
Nicole’s smile dissipates and it’s obvious she’s holding back an eye roll. “I had to make some deliveries and little Zeppelin came along.” Parents aren’t free to go wherever they want, whenever they want, unless they can take the baby with them. Nicole unfastens the baby, and proceeds to hold it like any real infant.
“Zeppelin?”
“Yeah, I named her Zeppelin,” Nicole says matter-of-factly and she straightens out what Waverly recognizes as a Led Zeppelin 1975 U.S. Tour onesie. “Oh! And look.” She fishes out a tiny bag from the milk crate and hands it to Waverly.
Derek pans from the milkcrate to Nicole and the baby held against her chest, while Dave struggles to unhook the camera from his handlebars and wobble the bike to the side of the building.
He finally wheezes over and positions himself next to Waverly. His camera angles down to the flashy black and pink bag in her hands. Inside Waverly digs out the smallest shoebox she has ever seen. She flips the lid, wrapped in white tissue paper, lifting out a tiny black Timberland boot that fits perfectly in the palm of her hand. She didn’t know they made them so small. Babies are cute and fun to play with.
“Aren’t those the cutest?” Nicole coos.
Waverly can’t deny the cuteness of the tiny Tim’s, but the insanity of her wife and that milkcrate... She drops the little boot into the box and slaps the lid shut. “No! None of this is cute. You can’t name a baby Zeppelin , Nicole.” Waverly tosses the bag back into the milkcrate and folds her arms across her chest in her best, that’s final stance. “Besides, I already decided, his name is Edward.”
Nicole’s face twists up like she just ate a mouthful of Sour Patch Kids; both Dave and Derek pivot to catch it. “When did you decide that?”
“This morning.”
“Ha! Snooze yah lose mommy, I named her Zeppelin when I was up with her all night.”
“Zeppelin is not a suitable name for a baby. It’s aggressive. Better suited for a pitbull...or a rattlesnake,” Waverly offers.
Nicole adjusts the baby, resting its head against her shoulder just as that familiar wailing starts up again. Waverly retracts, recalling how well it responded to her last night.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Nicole says. “You’ve got her all riled up again, with your yelling.”
“Me! He probably has whiplash after riding on the back of that,” Waverly jabs her finger at the bike and its sad excuse for a car seat. “ Death contraption .”
Squinting her eyes at Waverly in contempt as she soothes the baby, bouncing her knees lightly, Nicole says, “Now who’s aggressive. Don’t talk about the bike like that.” She shakes her head dismissing Waverly. Dave follows behind her dutifully as she carries the baby into Eden’s. “Shh. It’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”
“Nicole! Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”
Chrissy has Nicole’s scone already bagged and ready on the counter. She gives Waverly a puzzled glance over Nicole’s shoulder while Nicole retrieves her Monster and scone and leaves a ten-dollar bill on the counter.
Waverly shakes her head and mouths, “don’t ask.” Then continues to chase Nicole all the way to the back table where Nicole lifts her messenger bag over her shoulders, careful not to disturb “Zeppelin”.
“I can’t believe you put that poor thing on the back of the bike like that,” Waverly chides as she plops into the chair across from Nicole. She immediately pinches off the corner of Nicole’s scone. The baby interrupted her sleep five times last night and only responded to Nicole. Needless to say, all that crying and lack of sleep has taken its toll on her, leaving her cranky and exhausted.
“You’ve made him look just like you.” Waverly points out.
“I know. She’s perfect in every way.”
Nicole flips the tab to her Monster and takes a long hard swallow. It’s not her first caffeinated beverage of her day either. Two empty cans were already abandoned on the counter before Waverly rushed out the front door. If Waverly had the energy, she would scold Nicole on the dangers of that much caffeine. But she doesn’t, so she won’t.
“He is not even real,” Waverly shrugs.
“That’s definitely one of her better qualities.”
This is one of the moments Waverly can’t tell if Nicole is pretending. She can’t imagine Nicole actually liking this baby, considering how she reacted just to wearing the Daddy bracelet, or the face she made when Waverly first handed the baby over to her. Then again, Nicole is an enigma and Waverly never really knows what’s going on underneath all that red hair.
“You’re crazy.”
“Mmhmm.” Nicole smiles cuddling the baby close like it’s a giant bag of Skittles.
“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” Waverly says having decided it’s too weird to see Nicole doing, whatever this is , and she pushes out of her chair. “I gotta go. I can’t be seen with you. You’re creeping me out.”
She strides away, back to make shitty coffee.
***
“Act normal? We don’t normally have a fake baby lying around.” Nicole says, discarding the flannel Rosita has just finished fitting to her shoulders. She leaves it to fall carelessly to the floor.
Rosita throws her hands up, “I can’t work like this,” she says.
“This is just a simulation exercise,” Robin reassures. “Everyone on The Newlyweds is participating. You don’t have to do anything special. If the baby cries, you take care of it. Simple as that.”
“ And if it doesn’t?” Waverly asks currently cradling the baby in her arms. For once it’s not crying. Thank god. She was starting to develop a complex.
She scans over its little face and the outfit Nicole picked out. The smiley face with the x’d out eyes and the tiniest black skinny jeans Waverly has ever seen. Nicole seems oddly into this. Waverly was startled to find the faintest bit of sexiness thinking of Nicole as a mother, and a shit ton of terrifying. To think, this baby wasn’t even wearing a bike helmet, not to mention Nicole’s smoking habits, and her pure sugar diet. Thank god this pregnancy is fake because Waverly could never raise a baby with Nicole.
“It will cry,” Robin confirms confidently.
Nicole slips her vape pen from the front pocket of her own skinny jeans and clears her throat. “I’m going outside for a minute.” She holds up the pen, wiggling it, “for the baby.”
“Wait,” Waverly says in a strangled voice. She quickly builds a cradle out of fluffy blue pillows and the prized stuff unicorn on the couch, then nestles the baby into it. “Mommy will be right back.”
She hates herself for saying it, but it’s for show. She hurries out the door with Nicole.
The surrounding clouds of vanilla have become a familiar phenomenon. For the most part, Nicole has left the habit out of the house. Though the crushed pack of Marlboro cigarettes remains on the porch, Nicole has stuck to only vaping, and sometimes the other stuff she keeps under the coffee table that makes Waverly wrinkle her nose.
“Don’t do that.” Waverly snaps. She karate chops the vapor away from her face, reminiscent of their wedding day. “Don’t blow that out your nose. You’re not a dragon.”
“What? Like this?” Nicole taunts and proceeds to do it again filling the air between them with rolling clouds of vanilla.
“You think you are, but you’re not funny.”
“Look, sweetheart, everyone has their vices. Mine is smoking,” she shrugs, “and yours is being a nag.”
“Hey!” Waverly exclaims and swats Nicole in the arm. Nicole chuckles.
“You’re still cute all the same,” she winks and swoops Waverly into an embrace.
It could be leftovers of the pen, but Nicole smells extra vanilla-y today. Waverly buries her face in Nicole’s t-shirt, and for just a second she focuses on nothing else, just Nicole’s arms around her and the sweetness she exudes.
The nervous laughter coming from the other side of the door, and Eliza’s overbearing commands, draws her back to reality prematurely. “We have to go in there and pretend to be parents,” she groans.
“Listen,” Nicole says. She rests her hands on Waverly’s shoulders and ducks her head to make eye contact, “I love…your enthusiasm sweetheart, but I’m not really into all that role-playing shit.”
Waverly’s face goes blank, “Seriously? You signed up to be on a reality tv show where you’re fake married...the same show,” she points to the door. “that wants us to go in there and act like we love that baby.”
“Alright, let’s go.” Nicole concedes. “We left little Zeppelin all alone with Robin anyway.”
“I think he likes Robin.”
“That’s just her camera face. I taught her that.”
Waverly pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head in disbelief over the conversation they are having. Is she really discussing the preferences and needs of a doll right now? What’s even scarier, is that Nicole is. “We’ve lost our fucking minds.”
“Yup.”
***
“You’re staring,” Nicole says.
Hardly oblivious to the eagerness radiating from the other end of the couch, she flips a page in her book and pretends to read it. Nicole’s known for hours what Waverly wants, from the moment Waverly trudged down the stairs clean from the shower. But games are her forte’, and she plays them well, cracking open a book, stretching out on the couch expecting Waverly to do the same.
“I’m doing more than that.” Waverly teases and nudges Nicole’s side with her foot.
A smirk develops over Nicole’s face, a satisfying victory. Her eyes stay fixed on her book, but they no longer scan the pages.
Waverly nudges her again. “Hey…Sugarbear?” she husks.
Nicole stifles a laugh, her long lashes sweep her cheeks, and this time she glances over her book. It makes the room spin when those honey gold eyes steal the breath from Waverly’s lungs. Nicole gingerly closes her book and sets it aside, giving Waverly her full attention. “Who? Me?” she says in a soft and innocent voice.
Waverly nods. The thought of Nicole touching her, making her squirm and sweat, making her come, surpasses any desire to read a book. It fell to her lap over ten minutes ago. As soon as Nicole cracked open Fanny Hill, it was over, Waverly was enthralled with Nicole’s lips pressed together in concentration, and the crease in her forehead as she read those words. Waverly knows those words, she’s read them before, and thinking about Nicole reading them, the images she builds in her head…
“Come here,” Waverly motions with her index finger.
Nicole stares at Waverly in all seriousness, and shakes her head slowly, “No.”
Confused, Waverly frowns. She wants this game to come to fruition, whether Nicole wins, or Waverly wins, it doesn’t matter as long as they end up naked together.
“I want you to come here,” Nicole says and leans back against the armrest opening up her lap as an invitation.
Waverly shivers excitedly. “ Oh .”
Waverly goes, but she moves slow, makes a show of it crawling from one end of the couch to the other. The unicorn stuffed animal wobbles to the floor and she settles into Nicole’s lap, straddling her thighs, and drapes her arms over Nicole’s shoulders.
“I’m here. Now what?”
Nicole smiles, running her hands up Waverly’s thighs, squeezing her fingers into the firm flesh of her ass. One hand moves to the small of Waverly’s back. She leans in to press a kiss against Waverly’s shoulder and up the side of Waverly’s neck, stopping at the sharp edge of her jaw.
Waverly sighs into Nicole’s touch, and her arms tighten around Nicole’s shoulders, fingers getting tangled in her hair. She can feel Nicole’s teeth scrape across her skin and she knows Nicole’s going to leave marks. They’re tacky, but she’ll allow it just this once.
Nicole continues down Waverly’s chest. A hand slips under Waverly’s tank top and over her breast. Nicole squeezes and Waverly squirms impatiently.
“Do something,” Waverly begs. “Don’t just tease me.”
“I want to take you upstairs.” Nicole husks.
“Take me there then.”
Without another word, Nicole positions them on the edge of the couch, pushes up and glides across the room with Waverly delicately balanced on her hips. Waverly’s lips graze Nicole’s throat, she loses herself in the sultry heat between them.
“Hurry,” Waverly whispers. “I can’t wait.”
Nicole moves faster, taking the steps two at a time in a haste to get to the bedroom. Waverly continues her path of kisses over every inch of Nicole’s exposed skin. Nicole can hardly suppress a gasp when Waverly scrapes her teeth along the cartilage of her ear, damn near buckling her knees and causing Waverly to slip from Nicole’s hips. She lands on the bed with a bounce.
“Hmmf.”
“I’ll turn on some music,” Nicole says, a little out of breath.
Waverly yanks on Nicole’s t-shirt and their lips come crashing together, as she’s reminded of the hot slippery mess she was two weeks ago in the shower, while Rock You Like a Hurricane drowned out her vulgar affirmations . “I hate your music,” she breathes out.
Nicole ignores her and swipes her phone from the nightstand. Ah-ah, ah! Ah-ah, ah! screeches from its tiny speakers as she tosses it back. It’s cringy, to say the least, but Waverly doesn’t get a moment to linger on it.
“I hate that you're still wearing so many clothes,” Nicole says and kisses her. Her hands slide up Waverly’s sides, curling her fingers under Waverly’s t-shirt and tugging it over her head.
Waverly presses her hands into Nicole’s chest as Nicole leans in to kiss her again. “It’s just that, your music doesn’t feel very... sexy .”
“Don’t worry sweetheart,” Nicole husks. “I’m going to make this real sexy for you.”
Nicole tears away and disappears into the closet, boxer briefs flying out after. A naughty thrill rolls through Waverly as she knows what Nicole’s getting. “You know, it’s sexier if you strip where I can see you?” Waverly teases.
A chuckle carries out of the closet. Waverly can hear the rummaging around before she comes swaggering out. She pauses to tug the straps tighter around her hips. She likes the reveal to be dramatic.
“Is this okay?”
A heavy breath escapes Waverly that vibrates her lips and flutters her hair around her face. It may be a little more than she originally bargained for tonight, but she nods her head. “Only if you strip off your shirt.”
“No, slowly…” Waverly interrupts when Nicole moves her hands for the shirt. “and shake your hair like a shampoo commercial.”
Nicole grips her t-shirt at the lower hem and slowly drags it up her body, over her shoulders, and then her head. She swings it a little before she tosses it to the floor and shakes her hair as dramatically as she can. Waverly giggles.
“How was that? Was that sexy enough for you?”
“Yes.” Waverly nods. “Now come here.”
Tall, armed, and naked Nicole approaches the bed, and Waverly takes in a sharp breath getting a full view of her wife’s lissome frame up close. There’s an amber glow in her eyes that soon turns to fire when she grips Waverly’s hips and lifts them to the middle of the mattress. Their lips find each other as Nicole situates herself over Waverly, and deepens the kiss, confidently darting her tongue into Waverly’s mouth.
“Wait—wait. The baby,” Waverly stammers.
Nicole glances over her shoulder in the direction of Waverly’s stare where the doll sits in her bouncy chair in the corner. “Zeppelin is fine. She doesn’t know what’s happening.”
“It’s weird though, isn’t it?”
For whatever reason, those little doll eyes and its fake lashes really creep Waverly out, and maybe it’s just the thought of Bushar’s onesie, but sometimes she gets the feeling she’s being watched even in the house.
“I’m sure people do it all the time,” Nicole shrugs. “Besides, she’s a fake baby and no one will ever know.”
A knee nudges Waverly’s thighs apart and her fingers work down Waverly’s cotton shorts. They fall to the floor with a soft pat. Waverly barely notices Nicole’s hand reaching down between their bodies through the crackling coming from Nicole’s cellphone speakers. The rough, unrefined guitar, and screeching vocals overwhelm the room, and Waverly hates it.
Come on feel the noise. Girls rock your boys.
She reaches for the nightstand to change it. Nicole gently stops her, moving her hand away and pinning it to the mattress. “No, leave it.”
“But, it’s so…enthusiastic.”
Nicole chuckles, “It’s exciting.” She leans back on her heels and digs out the Sexy Strawberry lube from the drawer, squeezes out a generous amount over her fingers, and rubs it around. It’s getting low. They’ve been using it a lot lately. “Exciting times, call for exciting music.”
The lube is cold at first as Nicole spreads it over Waverly’s center in lazy circles. By now, Nicole knows exactly what Waverly likes. She’s mastered every kiss, every salacious touch, and every swirl of her fingers. Nicole knows how to make Waverly come within seconds, and she knows how to make Waverly beg for it. The rushed beat of Nicole’s music gives the impression she’s not aiming for the latter.
Beginning to feel impatient already, Waverly’s not complaining about the music anymore. Instead, she finds herself grinding against Nicole’s hand and its new speedy rhythm. Nicole dips her head down to capture Waverly’s lips in a kiss and two of her fingers, her fucking amazing fingers, the fingers that Waverly fantasizes about in the shower on a regular basis, ease into her.
A heat flares out from Waverly’s stomach, bleeding red across her chest, and rushing into her cheeks. “But,” she sighs, and her fingers wrap around one of Nicole’s wrists. She almost tells Nicole no ; that the only thing she wants tonight, is her. She wants Nicole to make her come, to take her apart with only her fingers like she so skillfully can. “It’s always exciting with you though.”
“Promise?” Nicole breathes and scrapes her teeth down Waverly’s throat just before sucking hard on the sensitive skin there. Gus won’t be happy about these marks tomorrow, but Waverly extends her neck for more anyway, and Nicole gives it to her, marking her again just below it, and again in the dip of her collarbone. “Promise?” Nicole repeats.
Waverly’s attempt to answer is initially silenced by Nicole’s fingers working in a little deeper. She moans, “ Oh . God yes, Nicole,” suddenly forgetting what she’s promising in the first place.
The air starts to feel too thin. Every time Nicole hits that spot inside of her, Waverly’s breath shortens, and it’s heavy and it’s loud. Her whole body wants to wrap around Nicole and beg Nicole to take her there, but just before she reaches that point of maddening desperation, Nicole tries to change directions.
“Wait,” Waverly says tightening a grip on Nicole’s wrist before she can pull away. “Not yet.”
Waverly pops up on one elbow, her other hand slides from Nicole’s wrist, into a thick knot of wavy red hair, and draws Nicole into a kiss while those amazing fingers still work between them. “Just like that,” Waverly breathes into Nicole. There’s a smile pulling at the corner of Nicole’s lips, Waverly can feel it against her own. Nicole knows what she’s doing, how every stroke of her fingers brings Waverly closer, making her breath quiver, and by the way Waverly throbs around her.
An unpredicted hard thrust sends Waverly over the edge. “Fuck! Nicole,” she moans, and takes in a sharp breath, tightening around Nicole, and marking her with her nails. Then she lets go as every muscle in her body contracts and shakes. It’s shattering and beautiful all at once.
Waverly’s left boneless on the mattress while Nicole pampers her with kisses, but only for a moment. Nicole withdraws her fingers to squeeze out more lube and coat the toy with it, then she drops down to one elbow, bridging over Waverly, and presses a kiss to her lips. “Tell me,” Nicole husks while her other hand grips the toy between them. “Tell me again how exciting you think I am,” and she slides it in easily.
Waverly can’t bring herself to speak, but she can make noises, and that’s enough for Nicole. Waverly knows Nicole gets off on the sounds that she makes, whispering into her ear how sexy and beautiful she is every time Nicole’s name rolls off her tongue. Nicole moans this time and it satisfies a need in Waverly, just as Nicole thrusting inside of her satisfies another. She hooks her legs around Nicole’s waist, and her arms over her shoulders, as Nicole drags her mouth down Waverly’s neck and sinks her teeth in.
“Faster,” Waverly begs, impatience getting the better of her, and she rakes her nails down Nicole’s back again to make sure she’s listening. “Please.”
Nicole’s hips slam into her harder and faster, offbeat to the music, she creates her own rhythm for Waverly. “I love seeing you this way,” she pants, and she slams her hips again. “I love making you feel this way.” and it’s just right and just enough, to send Waverly into a sudden rush of release, sweeping her away to wild, wild, wild . Her fingers dig deep into Nicole’s shoulders, as her whole body tightens, and she screams out.
Come on feel the noise.
***
Waverly stares in horror. It’s so grotesques her brain doesn’t know how to interpret what she is seeing.
“That’s porn.” Nicole declares.
That’s exactly what it is. It’s all right there on Eliza’s laptop screen—Nicole all strapped up and sweaty, Waverly’s legs wrapped around her waist, and her hands clawing into Nicole’s shoulders. It’s like something off the Animal Planet.
“That’s us!” Waverly squeals. It’s one of those things that are so terrible it’s hard to look away. But as hard as it is, Waverly drags her eyes away from the screen, glancing between Eliza and Kate, sitting there expressionless. It’s infuriating. “How did this happen?”
“Didn’t you guys read the agreement before signing it?” Eliza says in a condescending way, “Of course not.” She rolls her eyes.
Kate whips out a copy of the agreement and slides it across the table as evidence. She picks up her pen and points halfway down the page, tapping it when she arrives on the correct line.
“You agreed to allow, Paradise Garden Entertainment, to film you in and around your home while the Ready-Or-Not Tot is within your possession. All collected footage will be edited in a tasteful manner and used only for episodes of The Newlyweds.”
“We didn’t agree to make a porno!” Waverly exclaims and begins to pace the dining room. Dear god what did she agree to? Aunt Gus is always telling her to read the fine print. You never know when you’re going to get screwed in the ass.
Kate continues, “You also agree to be conscientious of your behavior and any and all activities in the home as not to incriminate yourself, Paradise Garden Entertainment, or any of its associates.”
“Meaning don’t fuck around in front of the baby if you don’t want anyone to see it,” Eliza says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, which maybe it is if either of them had paid any attention.
Kate nods in agreement. “Yeah, that's kind of weird.”
Waverly comes to an abrupt stop and glares over her shoulder at Nicole, whose eyes are glued to the screen. She knew it was weird and she let that sex-crazed redhead talk her into it. “Nicole stop watching!” she snaps.
“I want to, but I can’t look away.” And she doesn’t. If anything, she leans closer.
Waverly cellphone goes off vibrating twice in her pocket. She digs it out. Chrissy texted her.
CHRISSY: Hey girl…what’s going on?
WAVERLY: What do you mean?
CHRISSY: You’re all over Twitter and there was a preview on MTV…of THINGS.
WAVERLY: The BABY spied on us and now we’re probably going to end up on free porn sites!
CHRISSY: Huh?
“This is ridiculous,” Waverly says abandoning the cellphone on the table. “Chrissy says this video is everywhere. Who did this? Surely you guys have a safe place to store your footage.”
“That’s a lot of my ass.” Nicole remarks.
“We’re not sure, to be honest. We have a team of experts looking into the leak. In the meantime, our tech department is working diligently to locate the main source of the video and remove any duplicates as we find them.” Kate reassures.
Waverly frowns. That’s not good enough. She can’t have a leaked sex tape. She’s not some stacked supermodel celebrity.
“That is a lot of my ass,” Nicole repeats. She drags her eyes away from the screen for a split second to express to Waverly, “You look amazing Waverly…from what I can see of you.”
Waverly watches the video again, no less horrified as the first several. “I ck , is that what I actually sound like?”
“Yup,” Nicole smirks ogling the screen again.
“Just get this off as soon as possible!” Waverly growls with her finger jabbing at Eliza and Kate. “And you stop watching...you freakin’ weirdo.” She swats at Nicole before continuing to pace the dining room. “Ugh, I feel gross. I feel like Kanye and Kim Kardashian.”
“Hardly.” Nicole snorts.
Waverly stalls in the doorway, supporting her weight on its frame. She sags a little and sighs. “My high school dance instructor always thought I’d be a star…somehow I don’t think this is what she meant.”