Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Asia
“Did Jack send you to tell me to sit down?” I asked Miranda five days after she arrived.
I was in the newly built smokehouse. It sat at an angle, and Elliot wouldn’t let Miles live down the uneven lumber cuts. But it was done, functional, and I wanted to catalog the stores.
I only did this occasionally, because this job mostly had fallen to Caitlin. I was still trying to figure out a way to make the process my own and do it half as well as she had. Like everything, it was a work in progress.
Miranda laughed. “No. I actually came out here on my own.”
I nodded my head and she walked inside the small space, looking at me furtively.
“You seem kind of young to be a doctor,” I said.
She shrugged. “I used to have a great skin care routine.”
I smiled, and she smiled back, but I saw something on the tip of her tongue.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s just…that…”
“Yeah?”
She smiled, then shook her head, seeming almost nervous. “It’s kind of ridiculous, but I never thought the apocalypse would, A) happen and B) be so goddamn boring.” She looked at me, an eyebrow arched, trying to gauge my response.
I laughed until my eyes watered. “What, you mean you didn’t expect intense moments of fearing for your life to be punctuated by seemingly unending stretches of brain-melting monotony?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, exactly.”
We shared another laugh, and then she reached out and pointed at a small stool in the corner. “Why don’t you go have a seat and put your feet up. I am excellent at organizing, one of the few talents I have, actually.”
“I thought Jack didn’t send you out here.”
“He didn’t, but I’ve been watching. You need to take it easy. And I need something to do.”
I laughed, and handed her the notebook, but I didn’t go back into the house. Instead, I settled on the stool, one of Aunt Kathleen’s from the kitchen that had been repurposed, and watched her as she cataloged.
We stayed there in surprisingly companionable silence, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question I’d devoted far too much time to. “How’d you end up with Dante?”
Her hand stopped, the pen scratching on the notebook. Her shoulders tensed ever so slightly, and I was immediately on alert.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret. Jack wasn’t always a farmer. If you’re afraid of Dante, you can stay here. We’ll protect you,” I said.
She laughed, some of the tension in her eyes softening. “There is a story there.” Her smile shifted. “And no. I’m not afraid of Dante, and I don’t need protection. This arrangement is beneficial for the both of us. But thank you for caring.”
I arched a brow at her.
She laughed again. “It’s complicated.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I get it.”
She smiled at me, but then held my gaze a moment longer.
“Well, I’ll let you in on something myself,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I didn’t start in obstetrics. I went to med school for psychiatry and I minored in psychology in undergrad. It looks like you have something on your mind.”
I stared at her, my face frozen somewhere between a smile, a grimace, and an outburst of tears. I blinked, waited, then let myself say the words that I didn’t dare.
“I’m scared.”
“Of course you are,” she said like it was nothing.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a scary process, but your body knows what to do, and I’ll be here every step of the way,” she said.
“Yeah, but…” I sank back against the chair, my mind running in a million different directions.
“It’s fair to be worried, but the way I see it,” Miranda said, “dead people are walking around. You can handle life.”
Asia
“Finally deciding to sit down?”
“Don’t start,” I said, laughing at Jack.
I looked around the room, still not quite used to it, but on my way.
Uncle Levi finally insisted we move him downstairs.
Said he didn’t need to take up so much space.
I resisted, but he was insistent, and I knew that it would make it easier to take care of him.
Still, it took a while to get used to this.
This was Aunt Kathleen and Uncle Levi’s room, but slowly, day by day, we made it ours.
Jack, he of unending ingenuity, sourced a king-size mattress and box spring from God knows where.
Even got a featherbed and matching duvet for it.
We still had the same cherry four-poster bed, but added a nightstand for his weapons and ammo.
“You got to spend some time with Miranda today?” he said.
“Yeah. She helped out with the inventory,” I said.
I plopped down on the bed, and Jack lifted my feet, putting them in his lap.
“Your ankles look swollen,” he said, frowning at me.
“Of course they’re swollen. I have two times the amount of blood I should, not to mention the weight of your son. Swollen ankles seem like a given.”
“You need to take it easy,” he said, massaging my ankles.
“Get your hand off my feet, Jackson,” I said.
He laughed. “I thought women were supposed to love that shit.”
“I don’t know about women, but don’t touch my freaking feet,” I said.
He smiled, and I held his gaze, then reached out, stroking his cheek. He kissed my palm, then looked at me.
“I told her something that maybe I should have told you,” I said.
“Everything okay? Is it the baby?”
“Everything’s fine. It’s just…” I swallowed, looking away from Jack, then forced myself to meet his eyes. I’d had this conversation with Miranda, but having it with Jack felt…different.
“I’m scared, Jack,” I said.
“Welcome to the club,” he said.
He smiled, and I looked at him, a question in my eyes. “What, you don’t think I’m scared?”
“I mean…no?” I said.
“That’s not very astute, Counselor. I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life,” he said.
I looked at him in disbelief.
“I’m not,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “World’s fucked, but we’re together, and we’ll get through it all together. No matter what, right?”
“No matter what,” I responded, and then I leaned in for his kiss.