by Sybil Smith
Vera makes her way to the door with her hand on her glock. The door is unlocked, and she pushes it open without even bothering to knock.
The house feels eerily silent and dark with only the dim glow of sunlight shining through the blinds as she makes her way through the small apartment. The place looks pretty small, so she hopes she can make quick work of figuring out what happened. If she stumbles across a dead body…she shakes her head to rid the thought. That’s her day job; not something that happens in her personal life.
She doesn't have to venture too far before coming upon the unexpected scene: Evelyn lying on the couch with a half empty bottle of vodka on the table beside her. Vera notes Evelyn's pulse and shallow breathing from where she stands. Blackened tears left trails down her cheeks, and she remains in the work clothes from the day before.
She’s not dead, but clearly passed out drunk. This is not at all what she expected, but everyone has their vice. Especially in the line of work they’re in.
“Evelyn,” she crouches down and hesitantly shakes Evelyn's shoulder, "Hey, wake up."
Nothing.
Vera shakes her shoulder a little harder. "Can you hear me?"
With a small groan, Evelyn stirs just long enough to push her face farther down into the cushions. "Tristan," she mumbles against a pillow. "It’s early."
Vera wrinkles her brow. "Who's Tristan? Should I call someone..." Vera trails off as she realizes Evelyn is already asleep again. “Dammit.”
She stands up and looks around. The house is decorated tastefully, but with the absolute bare minimum. There are no pictures, nothing to make it more personal. No sign of anyone else living here; no pets, no significant other, no one.
Vera looks back down at Evelyn and shakes her head. She can't just leave her lying face down on a couch drowning in her own drool.
"Up we go," Vera says as she wraps her arms under Evelyn's shoulders and knees.
Evelyn is by no means a heavy person, but Vera still struggles to carry her when she feels like dead weight in her arms. Vera staggers as she walks them both into the lone bedroom in the apartment. Thankful that the bed remains unmade, she gently places Evelyn onto the bed and pulls up the blanket. This woman, clearly fragile and secretive, is most definitely going to give Vera some answers as soon as she's free from her alcohol induced stupor.
As she turns to leave, Evelyn's eyes open the slightest bit and she flimsily latches onto Vera's arm. "Stay."
Vera nervously scratches her neck.
Shit.
What the hell, that's what friends are for...Right?
She settles on climbing into the bed as far away from Evelyn as she possibly can. Just because she was going to be friendly and stay did not mean she has to cuddle the other woman. They aren’t that far into their friendship yet.
After a few minutes of laying flat on her back and staring at the ceiling, she stiffens as Evelyn's arm snakes its way across her stomach. She's as rigid as a metal pole when Evelyn nuzzles even closer against her side.
This is going to be really fun to explain, Vera thinks, resigning herself to her fate.
* * *
Evelyn jerks straight up in bed as a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder fills her room.
Just as she's about get up and go to Tristan's room, her bedroom door bursts open. Her son runs in with a Captain America shield in his hand.
"Mama! I'll protect us," he loudly whispers as he jumps onto the bed and crawls up beside her.
She grins widely at the fearlessness her four year old has already began to show. "Yes, I'm sure you will."
He cuddles up next to her in bed and places the thin shield across their stomachs. "This will keep us safe, Mama. I promise. Don't worry."
She breathes in the scent of his shampoo as he clutches her shirt when the thunder starts again. Her fingers brush away the blonde strands of hair from his forehead. "You're so brave, Tan. I love you so much. "
"I love you too," he whispers through a yawn.
Hours pass, both sitting up in bed to fend off the storm, before falling asleep in an exhausted heap once the rain passes.
* * *
Evelyn feels arms and warmth surrounding her, pulling her close, before she even has the chance to open her eyes. She snuggles in closer, trying to get the comfort she so desperately needs.
But the smell isn't right, the body shape is much too large.
Her eyes instantly shoot open and she recoils to the other side of the bed. The person in her bed definitely isn't Tristan and she has no idea how they got there.
Vera slowly opens her eyes when she no longer feels Evelyn pressed against her back. When she rolls over, Evelyn is looking at her with a mixture of confusion, anger, and shock.
Shit.
"Evelyn, I-"
She clutches the blanket to her chest in confusion. "What are you doing in my house?"
Chapter 6
Vera nervously runs her fingers through her hair. She knew this was going to be awkward.
"When you didn't answer your calls for work, we were worried that something had happened to you so I came over here to check on you, and you looked uncomfortable so I brought you in here and you asked me to stay so," she rambles out in one long breath, "I obviously did."
Evelyn furrows her brow. "I wasn't on call today, Vera. Why would I be contacted for work?"
"Uh," she nervously scratches at her nose, "You were actually on the normal schedule. We talked about it last night, remember?” She scans the confused face in front of her. Now isn’t the time for badgering her. “But it's okay if you forgot. It happens to the best of us."
Shaking her head, Evelyn looks down at her hands. She knows she had looked at her schedule at the beginning of the week…Did they really talk last night? She began drinking as soon as her shift ended yesterday. There’s no way she can remember, even if it did really happen.
"It's okay," Vera says, reaching over to squeeze Evelyn's hand.
Evelyn allows the contact for a moment, before realizing how horrible she must look. Standing, she wipes at the black smudges underneath her eyes. "Would you like to stay for coffee?"
Vera knows she should get to the station to catch up on the few hours she slept through, but is unable to bring herself to say no to the hopeful look on Evelyn's face.
"Yeah," she accepts with a small grin, "coffee sounds great."
Vera sits at the small counter in the kitchen as Evelyn makes coffee in a basic drip machine. Evelyn had changed relatively quickly, but looked impeccable. Vera looks down at her own wrinkled suit. She doesn't even look as put together as someone that's more than likely hungover.
Pathetic.
Evelyn pours the coffee and opens the freezer without thinking. It isn't until her hand is hovering over the bottle of alcohol that she realizes what she's doing. She quickly jerks her hand back and takes Vera's mug to her.
Vera tentatively takes a sip of the hot liquid. "This is good. Thanks."
Evelyn rubs her neck, obviously avoiding Vera's eyes. "You're welcome."
"Evelyn, you don't have to be embarrassed. We all have our ways of coping with things."
Evelyn's face blushes a deep shade of red. She had wanted a fresh start—a new beginning—where no one knew what happened except for her. That was apparently blown to hell the moment Vera walked in her life.
She lets out a humorless laugh and shakes her head. "Yes, but mine just happens to be a very unhealthy way of coping."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," she replies. "It's something I'd rather not delve into right now, if that's okay?"
Vera tentatively grins. "Of course. That's..." She trails off as she spots it on the side of the refrigerator.
It being a picture of Evelyn. Correction—a picture of Evelyn and a little boy.
Standing, she goes and slides it out from under the magnets holding it on the fridge. There is no denying he's related to Evelyn despite his young age. The honey blonde hair, blue
eyes, the dimples when he smiled. He's obviously very important to Evelyn, too. They were pulled in close, cheek to cheek. Her eyes and smile were more vibrant than they have been the entire time Vera has known her. Sure, Evelyn has laughed and smiled at her jokes every now and then. But even in her laughter there was something obviously missing. She never seemed to be truly happy; she just seemed to be passing time.
Maybe this boy is the key to it all.
Tristan.
It hits Vera like a ton of bricks. The outburst in the lab bathroom, the drinking, the detached demeanor Evelyn tends to hide behind to protect herself. She turns back to Evelyn, who is staring right at her—trying hard to calm her breathing and keep the tears from falling. Vera knows the answer already, but still has to ask.
"He's your son, isn't he?"
* * *
"Mama, can we see the water chickens?"
It's all she can do not to laugh. Her three year old is incredibly smart, but his imagination tends to get the best of him. "The water chickens?"
"Mmhm." He nods his head, pointing to the zoo enclosure across from them. "The water chickens."
Her eyes follow his chubby little finger to see that he's pointing towards the penguins. An airy laugh escapes her. "Oh. Who told you about those?"
He presses his face against the glass, trying to get a better look at the zookeeper feeding them fish from a bucket. "Lindy did."
Evelyn internally sighs. Their teenage babysitter really needs to stop teaching him things incorrectly just to be funny. Granted, it is funny most of the time. But some of the things she's said have stuck with him no matter how hard Evelyn tries to convince him otherwise. Like the time Lindy had told him sour patch kids jumped out of his bellybutton in his sleep.
No amount of explaining would ever make her son stop believing that.
After a few more minutes of hearing him call them 'water chickens' and hearing the accompanying giggles of everyone around them, she decides that she should probably correct him. He really is a smart boy, after all, and she doesn't want people to think otherwise. She reads to him from the plaque by the exhibit. "These are actually called Pygoscelis penguins, Tristan. They are found mostly in the higher latitudes of the sub-Antarctic and…"
She trails off as his bottom lip starts to quiver. "You mean…these aren't water chickens, Mama?"
There's no way she was going to break his heart. Science be damned. He's only three years old and if he wants to believe they weren't penguins, who is she to stop him?
She diverts the question by asking, “Do you want to take a picture of them?”
The corners of his lips turn up in a smile. "Can we take a picture with them?"
"Hmm...let's see," she replies as they turn to where the penguins are behind them. She holds the camera out in front of them, prepared to press the button. They come into view on the screen, along with the penguins standing in the background. "There we go."
He presses his cheek as hard as he can against hers. "Say cheese, Mama."
"Cheese," she repeats, smiling brighter than the sun.
* * *
Vera waits for an answer, still holding the photograph. Charged silence fills the room around them for long moments. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked, maybe this is all too soon.
Evelyn focuses on her hands in her lap. "Was," she finally says. "He was my son."
Chapter 7
"Was. He was my son."
Evelyn bites her bottom lip, trying to hold back the sobs that she knows will inevitably follow her admission. It doesn't work though. She drops her head into her hands, her body shaking from the effort of trying hold them in.
Vera stares at her, mouth agape. There are so many things running through her mind to say, to ask. But she does neither. Instead, she pulls Evelyn into a hug just as she had all those weeks ago, hoping that this would help once again.
Slowly, Evelyn wraps her hands around Vera's waist, clutching tightly to the back of her shirt as a thousand memories flood her mind. Minutes pass, with the heat of Vera's stomach emanating through the thin shirt and warming Evelyn's cheek, before she slowly begins to calm herself down.
Vera pushes her gently back by the shoulders once her sobs stop completely. She looks at Evelyn with her eyes brimming with tears and a face full of compassion. "Let's get you to the couch, okay? This can't be very comfortable."
Too numb for words, she allows Vera to lead her to the couch by the hand. Vera takes the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it across them as they settle in, side by side. Evelyn's hands start to play with the edge of the blanket, her eyes started watering again. She had only bought it because it was Tristan's favorite color, after all.
"Do you, uh…do you want to talk about it?"
She shakes her head against Vera's shoulder. "No."
"Oh. Okay. That's fine," Vera says as she absentmindedly starts tracing the veins in Evelyn's arm with her free hand. "Whatever you need."
Evelyn finally lets out a shaky breath. "Sometimes I don't like the memories because then the tears inevitably come, no matter how hard I try to stop them. It's a constant battle, Vera."
Vera rests her cheek on top of Evelyn's head. "Well I'll be here when you want to remember and when you want to try and forget."
The corners of Evelyn's lips turn up, ever so slightly. "Thank you. That's—"
"What the hell!" Vera exclaims, pointing to a slithering, scaled creature moving on the floor. She yanks her legs up onto the couch as it approaches them.
Evelyn watches as the reptile tries to get around the coffee table. She moves to help him around the obstacle. "Shh, you'll scare him."
Vera's eyebrows almost recede in her hairline. "You mean it's alive?"
"He's a bearded dragon,” she explains. “Of course he's alive."
Vera tentatively crouches beside Evelyn. This thing is huge and slow and kind of creepy looking. Okay, really creepy looking. She tries not to grimace. "I hate to break it to you, Evelyn, but that is a really weird pet."
* * *
Ellenor jumps at the scratching noise against the small kitchen floor. "Evelyn, darling, why must you insist on keeping that thing? It's certainly not the most ideal house pet."
It's all Evelyn can do to not roll her eyes. She knew she shouldn't have invited her mother inside. It has been nearly seven years since she's seen her, after all. "It was Tristan's; therefore, it's part of my family and belongs here with me."
Ellenor waves her hand in the air, as if to ward off such a silly reason. "Darling, I really don't understand why you keep reminders of your illegitimate child aro—"
"Don't you dare," Evelyn sternly interrupts. "You do not get to talk about him. If you couldn't talk about him while he was alive, you certainly cannot talk about him now. Am I clear?"
Her eyes are on fire, as if she is literally trying to burn a hole through her mother.
Ellenor lifts her head to look down her nose, refusing to back down. "Well I wouldn't have to bring him up at all if he was never born, would I? It would've spared us all a little pain."
No one—absolutely no one—will ever be allowed to talk about the best thing that ever happened to her like that. Tristan was her world; he helped her through the darkest days. Even though he’s gone, she relies on his memory to guide her through life more than any person currently alive.
"You should leave," she responds, more demand than suggestion.
Her parents had absolutely no part in her life from the time they found out she was pregnant, why should they try to worm in their way now?
She slowly places food in the bowl as she waits for her mother's retreat, but it never comes.
Finally standing up, she wipes her hands on a towel, and walks to the front door. "I meant what I said, Ellenor,” she says. “Leave and don’t come back."
Ellenor huffs and grabs her purse. At the door, she lifts Evelyn's face with her fingers, causing them to look eye to eye. "I know you don't understand the things we've done, darling,
but it's been for you. It's always been for you. We just wanted you to be happy."
Evelyn clenches her jaw. "I was happy, Ellenor. Did you ever stop to consider that?" she asks, scanning her mother's face for any sign of remorse. She unsurprisingly finds none. She opens the door and moves to the side. "I meant what I said. Don't come back."
Ellenor lifts an eyebrow. " If that's what you want, that's what you'll get. You've always been quite the selfish one."
Evelyn slams the door behind her mother and leans against it, shaking with adrenaline, fear, and everything in between. Not once since she found out she was having a child has she been selfish. Absolutely everything she has done has been for her son.
Now that he's gone, she's lost.
She sinks down until she's sitting on the floor, her head in her hands.
She was alone as a child, and now completely alone as an adult.
What a vicious cycle it’s been.
* * *
Evelyn shoots Vera an annoyed look. "He's not weird. I have him because he was Tristan's."
"Oh," Vera breathes. "Oh, I see." Way to go, Banks. Foot in Mouth. She tentatively moves her hand towards him. "Is he going to bite me?"
Evelyn smiles then, happy to be able share some of her knowledge about him. "It's very improbable. Go on," she gently grabs Vera's hand and places it on his scaly back, "You can touch him."
Vera runs her hand across the cool, bumpy surface. "Wow," she mouths with an amazed smile. "I’ve never been this close to something like this before."
Evelyn's smile finally reaches her eyes when she sees the awe on Vera's face. It reminds her so much of Tristan's reaction when he first saw him.
"Amazing, isn’t it?”
"Why does it—oh shit," Vera instantly jerks her hand back. Her eyes widen as the creature practically jumps away from her. "Did I hurt him?"
Evelyn chuckles, "No, you didn't. He must've gotten startled, that's all."
"Good," she replies as she looks over at Evelyn. "I've never had any luck with pets."
