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Nicole breathes in the chill evening air and lets it out slowly in a deep, contented sigh. This is her favorite spot: on the back stoop at dusk, boots in the dirt, taking in the last of the sunlight. At home.
The door behind her creaks open and shut again and she doesn’t need to look to know it’s Wynonna – that lackadaisical gait couldn’t be anyone else.
Wynonna sinks down on Nicole’s left without a word, slipping a beer into her hand as she does. Nicole pulls out the opener she keeps on her key-ring and opens her own bottle, before reaching over and popping Wynonna’s open as well. They clink their bottles together before turning back to gaze at the horizon.
It’s a well-practiced ritual, the way they end up here. Nicole heads out to the porch first – an invitation. Wynonna follows a few minutes later and brings beers – an offering. Nicole opens them both – offer accepted.
And not a word needs to be said for any of it.
The last time they sat out here, Nicole had just puked all over Wynonna’s boots, so she can’t say she was exactly enjoying herself at the time. But this – this is nice.
The silence stretches out long and comfortable between them. (She and Wynonna have never felt the need to fill the silence with pointless conversation.) It’s been a full day of cake-ordering, flower-selecting, and decoration-assembling; and as excited as Nicole is for this wedding – to finally be a wife, to have a wife – a peaceful evening is exactly what she needs.
Eventually, Wynonna speaks up. “Have you guys decided about your names yet? You gonna become an Earp, Haught?”
Nicole has thought about it, has talked with Waverly about it too.
But Nicole also wonders if the real meaning behind the question is something like: Is Waverly going to become a Haught? Is Wynonna going to be left alone as the last Earp? Nicole thinks it’s laughable, really, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Nicole takes a shaky breath and turns to face Wynonna as she says, “I think I’ve already been an Earp for a long time.”
It’s a vulnerable thing – to assume oneself a part of another’s family – but it’s true, Nicole knows it is, has known for so long she can’t even remember when that feeling started. Nicole is a part of this family through and through – much more than she’s a Haught or the sheriff or anything else. She knows she doesn’t need to take the name because it’s already so true, way deep down.
When Wynonna turns and meets Nicole’s gaze, her soft smile says I’m glad, and Damn straight you’re an Earp, and Thanks for becoming a part of our family instead of taking her away, all at once.
After a moment, Wynonna hums under her breath and nods – just once. She inclines her beer in a kind of salute and turns back toward the skyline.
Nicole huffs out a little laugh of relief and turns to face forward as well. “But to answer your question: no,” she continues, “we’ve talked about it, and I don’t think I’ll change my name. Neither of us will.”
“Well that’s good,” Wynonna says, gesticulating with her beer as she talks. “I was never going to stop with the name puns either way. No sense in trying to stop me.”
Nicole smiles. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Earp.” She knows the way she says it is going to be too sticky sweet for Wynonna’s sensibilities, but she hams it up – just a little.
“Gross,” Wynonna says, on cue, and shoves Nicole’s shoulder.
I love you, too, Nicole thinks and shoves Wynonna right back.
They settle back into silence. It’s not awkward, but Nicole can tell Wynonna is still chewing on something, working up to saying it. She takes another swig of her beer and waits.
It’s only a few more minutes before Wynonna says, “Well, you know what that means. We’re going to need to update the mailbox.”
Nicole feels her heart lurch with fondness but tries to match Wynonna’s casual tone. “Oh is that right?”
“Pft. Well yeah,” Wynonna says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like belonging is something that just happens. “How the hell else is your mail gonna get here, dumbass?”
(Nicole doesn’t feel like this is the time to bring up the fact that she’s already been receiving deliveries here for almost two years.)
“Good point,” she says instead, with a sly grin and another sip of her beer. “I guess we’ll have to do something about that.”
“I guess we will,” Wynonna says, and Nicole bumps Wynonna’s shoulder with her own, just for the hell of it.
“If you don’t stop shoving me, I’m telling Waverly,” Wynonna says.
“Like hell you are. Besides, you shoved me first.” Nicole says, and she knows it’s one hundred percent childish but she doesn’t care.
“So? You shoved me twice,” Wynonna says, punctuating the word ‘twice’ with another shove, and Nicole chooses not to point out that Wynonna just negated her own point.
“Listen. Speaking of wedding plans and all that…” Nicole starts, and all of a sudden, she’s quite nervous. She drains the rest of her beer in one go. “I’ve been thinking, and I’d really like you to stand up for me. At the wedding. On, uh– my side.”
Wynonna’s smile is wide, genuine. “Well shit, Haught. I thought you’d never ask.”
——
It’s not until hours after the wedding – when Wynonna is already long gone – that Nicole finds it, posted proudly above the mailbox.
They’ve shooed away all their guests, and Nicole is stacking up dishes from the reception. (They could do most of this in the morning, of course, but tidying up at her home with her wife is so delightfully mundane, so perfectly ordinary, and Nicole is just so goddamn happy to do it.)
It’s all so warm and familiar, this setting. Every rustle of grass, every creak of the barn door is something Nicole knows like the back of her hand – as well-worn and well-loved as an old pair of boots.
Until her eye catches it – out by the road – something new.
The instant she sees the roughly-cut wood panel, Nicole knows exactly what it is, but she sets the stack of plates down and starts striding across the yard anyway.
She needs to see it.
“Nicole?” Waverly calls after her.
Nicole can hear the rustling of Waverly’s dress in the long grass as she follows, but she doesn’t trust herself to answer – not yet.
Waverly catches up with her as she rounds the corner to look at the front of the sign. They tuck themselves into each other’s side and take it in together.
The sign is sloppy and ridiculous and borderline juvenile… and it’s also the best thing Nicole’s ever seen.
AND HAUGHT.
Earp… and Haught.
She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Waverly’s already reaching up to wipe away the tears. It’s all a little too much at the end of such an emotional day, one full of things Nicole hardly ever dared to dream of before: an amazing wife, a father to walk her down the aisle, a family surrounding her, her best friend standing by her side.
“Oh, sweetie,” Waverly says, brushing Nicole’s cheek with the backs of her fingers.
“Did you…?” Nicole asks. Did you know?
But Waverly is already shaking her head, smiling softly. “No. I have no idea when she did it. But I’m not surprised.”
“Yeah…” Nicole says, a little wistfully, “me neither.”
“She loves you,” Waverly says. “A lot.”
“Yeah.” Wynonna’s never said the words, but Nicole knows. She swallows around the lump in her throat. “I uh– I love her too.”
Waverly smiles up at her. “I know. It makes me happier than I could have imagined – the way you love each other.”
“Me too.”
“We have a pretty great sister, huh?” Waverly says, nestling her head into Nicole’s shoulder.
We have a pretty great sister.
Nicole repeats it over again in her head a few times, trying the words on for size. A sister. An echo of Wynonna’s words from the ransacked BBD base at Monument flash through her mind: “Never had a best friend.”
“Never had a sister before,” she says, more to herself than to Waverly.
Waverly looks up at her, and from the crease in her brow, Nicole can tell she’s wondering if she’s overstepped, if Nicole really counts herself a sister to Wynonna. But it’s right somehow. Natural. Easy.
“You’re right,” Nicole says. “We do.”