Work Text:
Three
Please read the notes prior to beginning the story. Thank you!
Waverly
“Eighteen… nineteen… twenty…” Waverly releases Ariel’s hand as she finishes counting aloud the number of fish on the worksheet her teacher, Mrs. Lovejoy sent home. The tiny redhead picks up her pencil and looks up at her foster mother with wide eyes. She drags her finger to the right of the fish to a diagram of seventeen sailboats and presses a button on her iPad with her right hand.
It’s 9:03 in the morning, and Ariel’s red hair is tied into a poofy bun from the night before, and she dons her purple Vampirina pajama top and blue Paw Patrol pajama bottoms. It’s a Quarantine fashion statement.
“Seventeen,” the Augmentative Alternative Communication Device boasts.
Waverly raises an eyebrow and stops to count the sailboats in her head.
“You’re right, baby. Seventeen. Seventeen of what?”
Ariel swipes across the iPad, past people and places until she finds vehicles. Not bus or train.
“BOAT.”
Waverly brings the palm of Ariel’s hand to her cheek. “You are awesome sauce , Ariel.” Five-year-old Ariel puts down the iPad, and moves to snuggle on her Mama’s lap. Ever since home school started because of the germs, she’s learned that snuggling means no more math.
Ariel hands the pencil to her Mama. “Wavy.” She holds up her arms and flicks her palms outward toward her. All done.
“All done?” Waverly writes 20 and 17 on the worksheet. In the past thirty minutes since Nicole left for the station, Ariel’s shown zero interest in the sensory bin she created from rainbow rice and pom-poms, or Mrs. Lovejoy’s digital lessons. Instead, she’s asked for Puppy Dog Pals and Coloring and CoCo on her iPad. Waverly sighs in defeat. They can’t leave the Homestead, and she’s not going to force Ariel to do school all day.
In her own way, she thinks- and she and Nicole discussed this last night- they’re blessed that Ariel doesn’t understand and doesn’t need to understand the calamity going on in the outside world, or why Waverly is her new teacher.
Ariel makes her left hand into a fist and shakes it up and down. Yes. She unlocks the iPad.
“ I want a break.”
Twelve math problems on a Monday morning for a five-year-old seems excessive. So, Waverly gives in. Bolt- Ariel’s service dog, heels at his little master’s feet as she leans on him to leave the dining room table, and head toward the couch to pick up her beloved Rapunzel doll. Ariel speaks to the doll in a language Waverly will never understand but wishes she could.
Then, she has an idea. She doesn’t know if she’s playing the role of clingy fiancee. Nicole left thirty minutes ago. Doc and Alice and Wynonna are out on emergency business. She’s thankful for her big sister who is battling the lines at the grocery store to bring home a stockpile of Sesame Street Broccoli and Cheese nuggets. Lately, it is the only “meal” Ariel will eat without crying, or spitting it out all over the table.
Stevie, Doc and Wynonna’s baby girl, is sleeping soundly in her bassinet next to the table. Waverly grins down at the sleeping baby. “Your Mama and Daddy are going to have to wash their hands really good before they come back in. Three pumps of hand sanitizer, too. Wash those yucky germs away.”
Waverly pulls her iPhone out of her pajama pants and sits on the couch next to Ariel and Bolt. Immediately, Ariel snuggles into her side but does not take her eyes off of her beloved Rapunzel doll. It’s sort of funny, but sad that Rapunzel was in Quarantine, too.
“Do you want to call Nicole, baby?” Ariel’s head pops up at the mention of her favorite person in the world. Waverly knew it would do the trick. “She’s going to yell at us, and tell us to get back to work, you know that, cutie.”
Waverly types in the number she knows by heart and the familiar FaceTime jingle starts. Nicole’s pixelated face fills the screen and Ariel nearly jumps into Waverly’s lap. “CoCo!”
Nicole
Nicole chuckles as Ariel’s face fills her phone screen. “Hi, Princess.” She leans her phone against her desktop computer and yawns.
“Sleeping on the job, Sheriff Haught? That’s not good.” Waverly giggles and Nicole grins.
“You’re a tease… and… I’m not sleepy… just hungry.” Another yawn escapes her mouth.
Ariel must have handed the phone to Waverly because Nicole can see her fiancee giving her a look. Nicole is tired. She’s tired and scared of leaving her home with a nasty virus at large. She’s tired of patrolling the desolate streets, telling people to please stay inside. She has to protect the people of Purgatory, though. Most importantly, Nicole thinks she needs to protect her family.
Hungry.
I want donut.
Pink.
Sprinkles.
The robotic voice from the iPad takes Nicole out of her trance.
Waverly speaks softly through the phone.“I know you’re tired, baby. When you come home, we’ll take a nice long bath, and relax, and-”
“That sounds nice, Waves. Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Nicole.”
Hungry.
I want donut.
Pink.
Sprinkles.
Waverly pulls Ariel onto her lap. “A donut? Really? You’re gonna make CoCo go all the way to Tim Horton’s to buy you a donut on her way home?”
“Donut.” Ariel tosses the iPad to the side, touches Waverly’s face with both of her hands, and gazes into her eyes.
“CoCo’s on the case. Anything for my Princess.”
Ariel
Waverly says that they need to do something nice for Nicole since she’s bringing home donuts. Something nice usually means a card or a picture. She sets a paint set and paper in front of Ariel, and a paintbrush. Ariel watches as the colors swirl together on the paper. Red and yellow make orange, and green and blue make purple. But when she puts too many coats on top of each other, the paint tears through the paper and goes onto the kitchen table. Waverly never gets mad.
By the time she’s through with painting herself and her mothers, both she, Bolt, and the table are covered in watercolor.
“Oh god,” Auntie NoNo says when she sees her. Ariel’s eyes drift toward the shopping bag in her aunt’s hand. Broccoli and Cheese Nuggets. “Babygirl! Ariel’s made a masterpiece.”
Alice peers out from behind Wynonna. Ariel’s made a M-E-S-S.
No one can figure out what she’s painted. Alice asks her if it’s of a bag of potatoes, and Uncle Doc asks if it’s of Buttercup the goat. Ariel hates that she doesn’t have the right words to tell them because her iPad is in the other room.
“Three,” Ariel says.
“Three?” Alice scratches her head, but Ariel knows she didn’t follow the rules.
“Three!” “Three!” “Three!” Ariel pouts and puts down her paintbrush, as Waverly rushes into the room with Lysol, and begins to spray the kitchen.
As Alice pinches her nose, Ariel mutters, “three!”
“She’s right, you know. She’s trying to tell you that you were supposed to use three pumps of hand sanitizer when you came in.”
Ariel loves her Wavy because her Wavy always knows what she’s trying to say.
“Oh! Thanks for reminding me, Ariel.” Alice takes three pumps from the container on the counter and rubs her hands together.
Family
Three hours later, Ariel stands at the doorway with the hand sanitizer, Bolt at her side. Waverly’s next to her with the can of Lysol. They’re ready.
“You’re absolutely insane.” Wynonna grimaces but tries not to smile as she holds Stevie to her chest. “Even Stevie’s laughing at you.” The baby coos, and blinks her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes.
“ Three, three, three!” Ariel chants softly. Waverly grins. Nicole is going to be so proud that their girl is using her words.
As Nicole walks up the porch, Ariel tumbles into her arms, Bolt at her side.
“There’s my Princess!” Nicole picks Ariel up, and the little girl settles into her foster mother’s touch.
“ Three, Co. Three.”
Yes, the hand-sanitizer gets on Nicole’s uniform.
And yes, it smells sickeningly sharp.
But, it’s being delivered to her by one of her favorite people in the world. She pulls Waverly in for a hug as the Lysol can falls on the porch.
Waverly stands on her tippy-toes and gives Nicole a soft kiss, and places one on Ariel’s cheek.
Nicole loves her girls and vows to keep them safe during this trying time.
Ariel takes Nicole’s face in between her hands. “Wash hands, Co.”
“Your Mama taught you well, Princess,” she says.
It’s a dinner full of pink sprinkled donuts, and broccoli and cheese nuggets, which- Nicole will admit later- don’t taste half bad. Ariel’s masterpiece rests on the porch.
At bedtime, Ariel uses her device to say goodnight to her foster mothers in a way in which only she knows how.
Picture.
Nicole.
Waverly.
Ariel.
Family.
She knows. She knows they’ll keep her safe from the germs. She knows they’ll stay.