this paper town

“Um.”

“I mean, sit and wait. I guess.”

“What if I use up all the hardcore and then we end up with a softie? You know, a rom-com loving, let’s-cry-it-out kind of human?”

Mason grimaced. “Alright, Ree, don’t murder me for saying this, but that sounds like the same sort of bullshit logic those Republican senators use for gay conversion camps or whatever the hell they’re into these days.”

“Your Alabama is showing.”

“An epidural is hardcore. They’d have to stick a huge needle in my spine.” Regan arched a brow. “Thoughts?”

“Disgusting.” Mason held a straight face until he couldn’t any more.

nicoleofwaverly‌:

“Yeah, because I’m familiar with church wine.”

  “More like rosé.”

 “But non-alcoholic, right?”

“No…” Regan trailed off, her mind already elsewhere. “I mean yes, water, definitely, but—” She grabbed her phone and opened the timer app, then handed it to Mason. “We have to time it all, right? Like how long the contractions last, and how much time is in between—all that.”

“Well yeah, but what the hell are you tryna do between them besides sit and wait?”

“Did you take notes during those classes, because suddenly I can’t remember any god damn thing I’ve ever learned.”

“It could be pee. I’ve never peed that much, but it could be pee,” she added, poorly reassuring herself.

Mason might as well have been out of the bed now. He swung his legs over the side and scooted closer to Regan. “Why don’t you get some water and sit down a second. Just take everything in and regroup.”

Three in the morning, maybe four? What did it matter, anyway? It was a sharp ache that awoke Regan initially, lasting for at least 30 seconds, and she was very certain that the time was now. At least, these contractions didn’t feel like Braxton Hicks (which were already wildly uncomfortable to begin with). 

“I either peed a lot or my water broke.”

It wasn’t as though it was unexpected. If a moment had come in the past four months when Mason wasn’t thinking about the child they were about to be responsible for, it hadn’t registered with him. But the fact that it was happening now, that was not reality yet. He felt like he was still dreaming, loosely tethered to the world and still a bit fuzzy in the edges of his limbs. He sat up a little straighter and stared at Regan with gaunt, sleep-filled eyes.

“Hey, wake up.”

Mason started awake, staring in panicked confusion as he took in his surroundings. Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his eyes into focus and reached for his phone.

“No, I want the real stuff. I’m hard-fucking-core.”

"Hang on, now, what kind of hardcore? ‘Cause let’s get something straight right  now. I am not giving you meth on your delivery bed or whatever.”

“That sounds nice. This is the first time I’ve been in a proper restaurant all month. Decisions and lack of time – my stomachs two worst enemies.”

"You can say that again. Although I’d be willing to bet a poor diet is working its way up the list. Might even dethrone those two before long.”

“If you would have asked me a few months ago, I would have turned my nose up, but you know what… It’s really not that bad.”

Olivia wasn’t necessarily surprised, but scandalized? Well, yeah. “Really?” Olivia squinted suspiciously. “Peas or squash?”

“O-kay.”

“Want one?”

It was Ava’s turn to avert her eyes, letting them drop to the ground as she blinked away the tears blurring her vision. She’d almost made it through the week, but here they were, threatening to spill over once again. She knew Hudson was right. She wasn’t handling it. Not at all. But it was all easier said than done. The thought of talking about it? Facing it all? Moving on? It all felt impossible when every day she still felt the grief - the guilt - the failure. 

“I’m not avoiding it.” 

Hudson swallowed, unfazed. "I don’t want to tell you how to grieve,” he said quietly. “I just want you to know that you that you don’t need to be afraid to.”

“We could go the old fashioned way. You know, hospital gown, lots of drugs, very Rachel and Ross from Friends. Just don’t say that in front of Mother Nature,” Regan gestured to the earthy-looking instructor. 

“If it’s the right kinda drugs, I don’t think she’d mind. Some of that herbal shit. Hell, she might have some recommendations.”

nicoleofwaverly‌:

“Pregnancy wine?” Regan asked with an amused tone. 

  “Don’t knock it.”

"That’s like, what, church wine, yeah?”

“Why not? Don’t you want to keep things interesting?”

“There’s interesting, and there’s crazy. And crazy might get us a humpty dumpty instead of a kid.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It’s not easy at all.” Hudson averted his eyes now, afraid Ava would see the pain he bundled up privately and stored away for his own personal grieving. He didn’t want that to become her focus. Besides, he was alright. Sad? Sure. But all in all, Hudson had accepted what had happened to them. He knew it would be easier for him than for her; he’d have found it strange if it wasn’t. All the same, just because it was more difficult for Ava didn’t mean she shouldn’t face it at all.