#wtps

Tess undoes them one by one, always apprehensive of accepting his help, slow and careful so as not to drop Ellie while she sniffs, tiny nose scrunching. His heart softens. She’s really cute. Sarah was just like that, but blonde, and in the blink of an eye, she grew up too quickly.

He missed it, missed this. 

He stares, he always stares because he’s aware Tess has never done this, because she’s confident everywhere but here, sitting on a bed much smaller for the amount of people in it, taking her left breast out and bringing her nipple to their daughter’s mouth, waiting for the little girl’s lips to part and suckle. Ellie constantly needs a little help, she’s still catching up, but tonight, she responds so soon Tess lets a soft gasp slip. 

While observing the scene cautiously, Tess shifts her elegant shoulders, rolls them to ease the strain of Ellie’s weight and something like pride tugs at his heart: she’s gaining weight as if she wasn’t born premature, long weeks spent in the NICU. 

And long nights spent praying, hands intertwined and eyes shut, that she would stay awake come next morning, that little Ellie and her mama would recover soon and they would get home. Home. 

But there wasn’t a cozy house waiting for them, just a cheap apartment close to the bar Tess worked in, for she was all alone. They would be all alone. So he has spent weeks now taking care of the pair. 

And he remembers what’s slowly eating his mind. 

Come live with me, both of you.

Some milk dribbles down the baby’s chin, he wants to reach out to clean it with the soft washcloth he keeps in his front pocket. Still, he knows better. He doesn’t want to make Tess uncomfortable, to agitate her even more, knows she prefers to nurse if he can keep his hands to himself, if she can pretend he isn’t in the room. Just Ellie and her, like it was supposed to be. 

He chews the inside of his cheek, pondering her reaction. It will be a resolute no, without hesitation or uncertainty. She doesn’t want his help, she made sure to remind him, she only gave in for him to be here because the surgery had taken a toll on her body. 

Regardless, he is as stubborn as Tess. 

“Tess.”

Silence, she rocks Ellie slightly. So Joel tries again, louder this time, she frowns. 

“What?” 

She will not like this, he has to try. “Tess, you can’t stay here.”

Tess chuckles bitterly, amusement fills her features, she holds back a laugh as she shakes her head, the auburn tendrils falling like waterfalls over her shoulders. 

“Where else am I supposed to go?” She doesn’t look unfazed by his intense stare, shrugging helplessly. It’s almost as if the question is sincere, not sarcastic or rhetoric: she doesn't have anywhere else to go. He observes her uncovered shoulder and her sharp collarbone, starry with freckles that Ellie is sure to inherit. She’s the spitting image of her mama in these few weeks, no matter if she denies it, rejects it, even. 

He gets tongue-tied, scratches the back of his neck as thunder roars in the sky. 

He didn’t expect it.

Ellie’s whimpers get muffled from her spot—then she stops eating, separating from Tess’s breast as the woman winces unconsciously when the scared infant nuzzles into her warm skin, tiny fist clinging to the fabric of her clothes. 

However, she shushes the baby and rocks her gently, her dulcet voice whispers, “‘S just a storm kid, nothing to be scared of.”

He stares wide-eyed. From all these past weeks there hadn't been a moment where Tess naturally could calm the baby, she hadn’t even wanted to hold her once they got home, didn’t want to breastfeed, she was struggling and it was normal. Joel was patient, he understood; but she could comfort her this time around. He notes then, that she has this lingering sadness in her eyes, quiet pondering reflecting in her younger features. Fuck, he didn’t answer. 

Wincing at himself, he clears his throat, “With… with me.”

Tess blinks, narrows her eyes in that signature way he could recognize anywhere. He prepares for the negative response. 

Instead, because she is Tess, she never forgets, never forgives, she brushes Ellie’s tears away and replies without missing a beat, “So they can kick down the door and yell at me to go away like last time. I got it right, Joel?”

That awful afternoon, a scenario not even the worst of his nightmares could conjure, the crumble of his lies and the reality settling in. He thinks about Sarah’s big blue eyes and how she looked at him with that hard stare: you deceived me with lies. I don’t trust you anymore. You betrayed me. If you are my dad, why couldn’t you be honest?

And he knows they still need to have a talk. He still needs to fix things because he doesn’t want his older daughter to resent him—and he can’t help but smile, he has two baby girls now—he can’t let this make them grow apart. But he has too much on his plate and for now his focus is firstly on the baby and her mother, then his own teenage daughter who will forgive him after they sit on the porch and have a long heart to heart. 

He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to this vulnerable baby or her unsteady mother. He already failed them once, he won’t repeat the same mistake twice. 

“‘S not- Sarah’s a good kid, she won’t bother you,” He wants to reassure her: that outburst was just an isolated instance, she’s a good girl, he’s, after all, proud of how he raised her. 

Joel makes a mental list of all the things he urgently needs to baby proof as he studies Tess’s features. She purses her mouth, her gaze glued to the ceiling full of cracks. He wants her to stay in a better place. “She’s at school most of the time, she likes to stay at other friend’s houses and she’s a sweet girl, she ain’t bugging ya, promise.” Joel gives it another try.

“You never told me you had a daughter.” There’s a hint of irony in her voice, a faint reproach. The start of an argument. A prickling spark at the tip of her tongue, ready to catch flames and burn everything with her. She did it at the hospital last time. That last time they saw each other before they parted ways, way before she even gave birth.

He wants to fight back, and you told me you were on the pill, we’re even, but he bites his tongue when Ellie’s soft baby noises repeat in his ears, blissfully ignorant of what happens around her as Tess guides her and she returns to latch, pleased and safe. He’s doing this for her. That tough girl fought to stay alive and needs a better place to stay. To grow up. 

How is she the one to blame? 

“Tess, think about her,” He reaches out to run a finger over Ellie’s soft cheek, fuller now, but still too thin. “This ain’t about us anymore. There’s a baby here, and she needs us.”

There’s more thunder and furious raindrops, traffic buzzing with loud motor engines and car horns, shouts from across the streets and music blasting at full volume; the apartment walls are paper thin, this place is not suitable for a baby. Not even suitable for an adult, either. 

But the room is quiet, quiet except for the little sounds Ellie makes as she eats; she eats more than last week. A tough girl, she’s progressing fast.

Tess lowers her head, furious hazel eyes met his own, open and tender. 

“So what - I’m gonna be in debt with you all the time? That’s what’s happening here?” There’s fight in her words, the same tone as the one she used time and time again to shout and storm off, mad at everything and everyone, fuck off, Joel, and leave me alone, but tamed down in the sake of a nursing infant. 

“No that ain’t- that ain’t what’s going on here, Tess, y’know it.” Joel is itching to touch her, for they speak better in that way. They’re not used to actually talk, they never discuss, they fuck away their disagreements. He settles for returning to his spot, and gives her space. 

“Do I? Tell me, do I? What tells me you’re not gonna turn around and tell me to pay you back, uh?” Here, at the moment, Tess is so sincere and actually frightened that he can’t reply. The words get caught in his throat. 

He would never do that. He never did that. He’s taking care of her because he understands Tess currently has the worst time after childbirth. She’s so cold and distant and numb. She hardly eats or rests, and he still has to help her bathe even if she hates it. And the reason is he’s genuinely worried about how her C-section is healing, and he knows she will get a scar after they take away the stitches.  Knows it because he already went through this with his ex wife; but he’s by her side because, and he doesn’t admit it, he loves Tess. He wants this woman in his life, in his house, and he wants to take care of her and help her. Her and her baby, their baby. 

And their little Ellie needs someone to take care of her simply for the fact that she’s just a baby, because she’s way too weak and tiny, because her mama is struggling and because he already was a father, he knows what to do, knows how to take care of an infant on his own, but he doesn’t want Ellie to grow up without her mama like Sarah, not again. And Tess isn’t like Christine—she loves Ellie. She may not have wanted her in the past, but she’s cradling her right now as she almost finishes, ready to sleep with her belly full and her warm blanket in her crib, the crib he immediately got for her even before she was home. Because he was sure she would get home from the hospital. No one believed as hard as him, not with the same conviction. 

“Tess,” and Joel doesn’t think twice, as he grabs her by the waist and tugs her to his chest, kisses the top of her hair as she stiffens, “Jesus, you don’t owe me anything, nothin’ to stress over.”

Tess seems to relax at his words. She lets out a shaky breath, and he holds her closer. She doesn’t want his help, but he will try again and again. Ellie finishes, yawns wide like all babies do, and sleep settles heavy in her curious eyes.

“I have-” She pauses, he peers down at her, and she avoids his gaze. Ellie’s little body is placidly being squished between them. “This is something serious, Joel.”

Barely contained, he deflates, “Right, but-”

“I’ll think about it.” Tess leans back, tucks herself under his chin. 

At least it wasn’t an outright no. 

Saturday night, Sarah's at a friend's house staying over to study, and they have the house all to themselves. Ellie's been a bit groggy, catching a cold that mortified them, but the kids pediatrician told them she would get over it quickly.

All things considered, he's been trying his best to stay home and help, yet Tess commands him without excuses to go to work. At least he's glad today is his day off, he's been prioritizing his daughter since he woke up.

He bounces Ellie in his arms, rubbing her little back as she cries—yet it doesn’t soothe her.

"What is it? What's hurtin'?"

Ellie scrunches her face and rubs her eyes, screaming with more intensity. He stares at the ceiling, changes the baby's position to drap her over his shoulder, patting her back gently. However, she doesn’t burp, and he's helpless.

Grabbing her feeding bottle, he moves around the living room to reach the baby formula on the table, yet he stops when he hears footsteps behind them.

"She's not hungry." A voice adds, and when he whips his head around and meets Tess's warm, hazel eyes, he sighs.

"That was quick." He grins at her softly, cradling Ellie’s head carefully while she sniffs and stares at Tess.

Opening her arms— he notices she has one of his oversized t-shirts after her shower—Joel passes their kid until she's being held by her mama.

"She's sleepy." Tess states matter of factly, and arrays her between her arms to rock her slightly, humming lowly. Ellie melts in the embrace, nose pressed on the grey fabric, and he watches mesmerized as she calms down immediately, shuffling closer and babbling. "Aren't ya, Ellie girl?"

It doesn’t seem real. Their kid snuggles her small body in the crook of her elbow, and Tess doesn’t flinch anymore. There's a peace that paints her expression, an ease that overflows in her movements, a coy smile spreading in the corner of her lips. The lullaby is so low he can't really hear it, but he cherishes it all the same. It feels like a win, and he doesn’t say it as to not ruin the perfect moment.

"Stop smilin' like a fool." It startles him when she catches him, but he shrugs helplessly.

He can't avoid it; to be so in love with her, and the baby, and the hard-earned peace they have nowadays.

This room is the cleanest she’s ever seen in a while, with white walls and clean sheets and no odor in her nostrils, just an old hospital room close to camp. Back in time, people would come and go, and send gifts and balloons and cards for the mothers, flowers, they would send flowers—and small stuffed animals meant for babies, and somewhere in here there is a kids area with animals painted on the walls. It’s over, she repeats to herself, a watery smile thinking about the little hats atop newborns. Hers would be pink, a soft shade of pink. And it would look out of place now. Now, in a disrupted and disjointed world, Tess understands, so she stares at the coat of hair instead, running a delicate finger over it.

Blinking, an out of body experience, she sighs sharply, exhausted, her breathing shallow as the cool sweat dips from her forehead to her cheek. The bedding is a mess. She’s sticky and ready to pass out, yet her world narrows down to the bundle in her hold.

Her arms are careful, her gaze in awe, and she fights back the bittersweet tears that bead in the corner of her eyes, working her jaw as she swallows and presses her lips tightly.

Rising above the pain, above it all.

Her daughter is with her, alive and breathing and soft, and she forgone the persistent ache all over her body. The pulse of a broken heart inside her ribcage like the beat of a drum.

So, so tiny. So serious, with that frown on her round, chubby face. So defenseless, so innocent, it overwhelms her terribly, entirely so.

It's a mixed reaction at first: one part of her is relieved, and the other is so in distress that she wants to scream, and tear the white curtains apart, and curl herself into a ball on the bed and stare at the wreckage.

It’s a husky chuckle, a little wet, fighting against the rebellious tears as if it would be a dam that’s ready to give out. “Oh, look at you. You’re lucky. Aren’t you?”

The baby is breathing calmly, she can feel it, and it soothes her. Otherwise, she would be freaking out:

There’s no trace of her father in her features, and Tess thinks that’s the kindest thing he could do to her.

It’s the only ever kindest gift.

“You look exactly like me, sweet girl. You hear that?”

Because she’s a girl, and he won’t want her. 

If ghosts could roam around, she’s completely sure he would go back to the daughter he lost and never claim this little girl as his. No matter how much she is a combination of both of them. 

No, that rejection would make things harder for both of them. She did what was going to work out better and chose the higher road.

“Hey there, Ellie, my little Ellie.” She coos, rocks the small bundle in her arms; despite the sadness that crushes her heart, there’s overflowing love for this baby who is not at fault for Tess’s mistakes nor her Father’s grief, “That’s your name.” 

The little girl sniffs as if to acknowledge she’s listening curiously, attentively—grabbing her finger with her tiny sized fist as hard as she can; Tess smirks conspicuously. “It’s jus' you and me against the world, hm? We’re gonna be fine, kid...”

Tess promises, and when she reaches down to kiss her head full of the softest hair and nuzzle her temple, she allows the guilt to wash away as the words leave her mouth. 

Yet she liked this, and it wouldn’t do her harm. At the end of the day, there was someone supervising her, and Sarah understood her own limits and what risks she could encounter. 

“You gotta try the new arcade.” He said, messing up her hair, laughing at her scoff.

She couldn’t stop smiling, having talked long enough about that with her friends over the phone. 

“Sure will.” She agreed eagerly, wrinkling her nose at him playfully.

“And what are you gonna do while I’m nowhere to be seen? You aren’t gonna be scared, aren’t ya? ” He teased half-heartedly, earning a giggle out of her as he took a turn and drove through the park, a shortcut he always reminded her existed when they went this way. 

“I'm gonna use the money my daddy gave me, buy me some fries.” Sarah shrugged, playing with the bracelet around her wrist. “And you should take out Maria on a real date.” 

Tommy gave her a sidelong glare before staring ahead.

“Uncle, meeting her at the mall only is a disgrace to the Miller’s last name.” Not for the first time Sarah scolded, and Tommy almost put his hands up in surrender. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He joked, elbowing her gently while she frowned, right as they approached the parking lot. “Listen, I promise this is the last time.” 

“It better be.” Sarah gave, that chiding tone the same one she brought out so similar to her dad’s, and then she remarked seriously, elbowing him back. “You should buy her something nice.” 

Maria was a cool, charismatic woman who worked at the cash register in one of the stores—she had forgotten the name now—and her uncle was infatuated. He would use the excuse of taking her to the mall for an ice cream or to shop around, but then he would flirt with her while Sarah looked around, and it became common. 

Right now, her daddy had no clue, and she had zipped her mouth shut. 

Once inside, Sarah counted her money twice as Tommy mocked her without malice, barely disguising his impatience.

Maria’s store popped into view when they took the escalator, and Tommy kissed her forehead to her light-hearted complaint.

“Don’t get too far, ‘kay? And if you need anythin’ you know where to find me. Go have fun, kid.” He squeezed her shoulders, trusting her and letting her acknowledge it as she nodded. 

“Please, bring up the date before we leave!” Sarah exclaimed, waving a hand in the air before disappearing into a bright, big H&M store on her left. 

She took a break at the food court when she got thirsty, all the walking and observing and trying on clothes tiring her some, so she sat close to the cinema entrance and ordered some cinnamon sugar pretzels after drinking her lemonade. Munching on them, Sarah squinted in the fluorescent lights above her head.

It couldn’t be him, right? 

Sarah was sure of one thing: she could recognize her daddy on a crowd, and he just stood out with his physique. And he wasn’t alone! His arm was banded around a woman’s shoulders, leaning on him, and when she saw a glimpse of her face- 

“Ish that Tesh?” She murmured around a mouthful of food, crumbs drizzling around her lips; Sarah brushed them aside, pretzels being set apart as she scanned them thoroughly, not being noticed.

Accidents happened, and she could mistake some random couple; nonetheless, some meters between them couldn’t fuzz out the truth. Sarah leaned on he elbows, attempting to capture more as her daddy whispered something on Tess’s ear, who in turn smacked him gently on the chest and pressed their lips together. Oh, oh, so it was something serious.

Tess had been a constant presence in her life whose encouraging words were always at the ready, who had figuratively taken her under her wing since the first day, who was confident and relaying both—she was friend of the family, had known her for so long. The past summer, she had spent so many hours at their home teaching her how to work with clay, starting with easy things since Sarah was a beginner.

Had she been so blinded by her own joy as to not notice the signs? Tess surely showed up more, and her daddy had been a bit weird, in the sense that he would act differently around her, and once Uncle Tommy picked at him because he called her during work hours… 

Her heart almost leaped out of her chest, the dawning realization sticky like the cinnamon on the pad of her fingers, a gasp spilling out of her lips as they walked towards her seat. 

Sarah froze as there was no way she was exiting without being noticed, clutching a napkin to clean her fingers anxiously and blinking repeatedly at the wait for the inevitable.  

Warm eyes spotted her, their conversation drowned before being completely shut down, and then it was their turn to still like a deer caught in headlights.

Tess’s hands were intertwined with his, and Sarah fixed on it before her gaze darted between them, chewing the inside of her cheek.

The first one to regain her composure was Tess, laughing nervously. “Hey, hi Sarah. Nice to see you here.” 

Sarah rubbed her palms, clasping them together as she locked eyes with her daddy, who looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. 

“Uh, baby girl.” He greeted gruffly, strained, but not dropping Tess’s hand at all. “How long have you-” 

“You have some explainin’ to do.” Is what Sarah opted to answer after chosing her words carefully, approaching them openly. 

Tess was the one who tilted her head and offered a relieving, small grin, offering her other hand. “Let’s go for a walk then.” 

Joel sighed heavily and scrubbed at his face with a hand, staring at them both afterward. “‘S a long story, Sarah.” 

“Got nowhere else to be, Daddy! I suspect we’ll be here for a long period of time.” She yelled to jab at them, who shared a quick, fleeting look, giving in easily. “At least you were in good hands.” 

A complicit wink at Tess—they both busted in giggles, he rolled his eyes, and urged them forward.