Wanderlust

He couldn’t exactly say he was shocked by Lloyd’s question. It was likely unusual for a single man to just announce the fact he was going to be a father, or any variation of the event.

Sara skidded to a stop, wincing as groceries spilled from his bag- she’d totally not meant for that to happen. Maybe she should have tried a more subtle approach- a tap on the shoulder? No- those things would probably puncture her skin. It was a good thing, then, that he seemed to be on his way home with real food- she didn’t know how Gretel could let him get away with being the approximate size of a twig.

Tongues… he’d spoken in tongues the last time too. Though at least there was one word she got out of it- and of course it’d be her name. She gave an easy smile in response to his angry glower, tucking her hands behind her back.

Sea travel had become a lot more difficult lately.

Sara sighed in relief as she felt the boat pull into port, lifting her head from over the railing, where she’d been hanging it since this damned journey had begun. Around her, passengers began to stir as the captain announced they’d made landfall in Zephyr, at last. 

Zephyr… it’d been a while since she’d been here. The last time she’d come, she’d been loaded down with bags and boxes of items to sell- knick-knacks from her basement, the clothing that Candace had gifted her. Her last visit had been one of necessity, laced with an undercurrent of panic. She’d been on a mission last time- one she’d succeeded at quite well.

Now, with the farm saved and tensions with the Union on a low simmer, she’d come for a different reason- leisure. Long ago, her friend Gretel had invited her to come spend some time with her in Zephyr- and now, months and months later, she’d finally arrived to this pretty town, greener now in the summer than it had been in the frosty winter, when she’d last visited. Wouldn’t her friend be so surprised to see her- and to hear her news? Just the thought of Gretel’s surprise was enough to make the seasick feeling subside as she disembarked with the other passengers, eagerly making tracks for the town.

Except…

About an hour later, after wandering in circles, Sara realized that her idea of a ‘surprise’ was, like many of her ideas, stupid. She had no idea where Gretel lived, hadn’t a cell phone to call her- and she was tired and hungry. The sun was starting to get high in the sky now, and the heat was getting to her. She had half a mind to turn back around and go home, leave Gretel a message later and schedule a proper meet up.

That, however, was when she spotted him.

Tall, dressed in all black, impossibly pale- why, she’d recognize that scrawny backside anywhere. With a cry of relief, Sara’s face split into a grin, and she took to her heels, voice raised in happy greeting.

By early afternoon, he was still feeling good enough to venture to the general store and buy real food for actual cooking— a pain, but better than starvation or eating at the cafe for the seventh time that week. Not that Lloyd was sick of Marian or her cooking, but past a certain point paying to be fed tended to eat away at his well built sense of independence.

Walking down the dirt path, quietly humming an old tune that had long ago lost its accompanying words, his sense of peace was finally lost. All good things (moods, really) must come to an end, yes?

With his abrupt stop, a bundle of greens spilled out the top of his bag, but he turned towards the offender regardless with the most hateful of scowls cracking his composure. Mister fucking Gretel was what he hissed beneath his breath in both disbelieving anger and default Arabic, Gretel being the only distinctive word to any ordinary bystander should there have been one. But unfortunately, it was only a fast approaching Sara.

Finding some free space on the small outdoor table, Ivan set down a small pile of neatly folded (mostly pink) infant-sized outfits along with a few soft stuffed animals.

“Of course, the room won’t be decorated with the clothes.” He chuckled. “But they’ll certainly be needed.”

He leaned forward to close and scoot his book off to the side, making more room for whatever Ivan was about to reveal, through showing rather than telling it seemed. If only he could have deciphered the meaning of these things off the bat, without having to literally poke and prod the fuzzy pink things with his bony fingers. In all fairness, it’s not as if he grew up having these nice toys and pretty little outfits or even seeing other children having what he did not. 

When the seemingly overdressed man nodded, Ivan was eager to start a conversation with him. After all, it felt like ages since they had last talked.

So when Lloyd gives her the estimation, she almost sighs in relief. It’s a nice gem, but it’s not worth that much. Whoever had lost out on the lotto ticket had not lost out on a lot.] 

He shouldn't have allowed himself to feel a shred of surprise, even if it didn't add to all that was already manifesting in his expression. 

And boy were they all about to get splattered.

"I think it’s really cute! Y’all are rivals but that’s just a word, ain’t it? Ya really do care!” If she weren’t so caught up in her excited babbling, she’d be rolling on the floor at his startled expression and pose.

Goddess, what a drama queen.

"I’m sorry I was mean," She wound down finally, a friendly smile on her dumb naive face. "Ya just don’t never know who skulks ‘round these parts. Can’t be too careful, ya know! Why, just the other day a little girl was playin’ round in the family graveyard! Coulda been nasty if she’d dug up my old man…"

Ok, Wilder. Bring it back in.

How she knew so much was painfully obvious, yet such a coincidence was completely absurd. Nothing was quite making sense-- how he could have just happened upon someone so apparently close to Gretel out here, the complete 180 her attitude had just made-- and he found himself extremely frustrated with how dumbstruck the situation had rendered him.

A steady, dull pain was beginning to pool at his temples. He didn't pay any attention to her brief and, honestly, pointless anecdote, but of course her name always drew his attention-- he hates admitting that.

The title delivered in front of it, however, was a heavy blow that he felt mostly at his head.