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When Becky Barnes was a little girl, she had her wedding all planned out. She had a song picked out for her and the faceless groom to dance to, one for herself and her dad, and even her dress. She knew the color scheme she was going to use for her bridesmaids’ gowns and the songs she wanted to play at the reception.
Going even further than the wedding, she knew the names she was going to use for her children, how many she was going to have, and the birth order. 3 kids- 2 boys and a girl named Robert James, Jeremy David, and Madison Hope. They’d all have her bright red hair and they’d go on fun family vacations and she would love her husband and he would love her right back. It was going to be a picture perfect American life.
This, of course, didn’t happen. Becky’s dad went missing when she was a sophomore in high school. Then she found a guy that she loved who was just a year older than her and the star quarterback of the Hatchetfield Nighthawks. God she loved him. But he graduated and joined the army and he broke up with her because he didn’t want her to put her life on hold just for him. She planned to wait for him anyway. Well, she planned to do it until she met Stanley. Stanley was so cool when they met. She was seventeen, he was twenty two. That meant that he could buy them booze and cigarettes and throw the coolest parties at his apartment. He was so fun!
Her mom thought he was a good-for-nothing layabout, but her mom thought that about everyone, including her own missing husband. If Becky listened to her she’d be one of those crazy Abstinence Camp girls who never had any fun.
But then…. Stanley gets worse, and Becky kind of wants to get out of the relationship. But Stanley goes to ask her mother for her hand in marriage, and suddenly, her mother is on board with the idea of their relationship- so long as they get married.
“I will pay for the wedding and cosign a loan for you two to purchase a house,” her mother says.
“What’s the catch?” Becky asks, as though being indebted to her mother and married to Stanley weren’t catches enough.
“You go to nursing school like Stanley suggested,” her mother says, “and make sure there’s enough money to give me grandbabies.”
“Fine,” Becky agrees. There wasn’t any way out of this, anyway. She might as well get a good party out of it.
Grandbabies, of course, are out of the question. Stanley doesn't want kids. He made that quite clear as soon as they started drinking their way through Atlantic City for their honeymoon. Becky, frankly, doesn't want them either now. Stanley is enough of a hassle by himself. She started he pill and then once she finished nursing school and learned about more effective contraceptives, she got herself an IED instead.
She does not under any circumstances want a kid with Stanley, even though she knew he’d demand she get an abortion anyway. No Robert James, no Jeremy David, and no Madison Hope- All three of her hypothetical children will remain hypothetical, because she can’t risk bringing them into a house this dangerous.
Her mother comes to resent this about her, especially once Stanley's dust in the wind and she's engaged to Tom instead.
“You never gave me any grandbabies,” her mother laments. “All those years with that man and never once did it take.”
Becky grits her teeth as her mother adds, “I thought that was all you wanted as a child?”
“Life didn’t work out that way,” Becky tells her.
“Marrying that no good boy from high school and becoming a step-mother?” her mother scoffs. “You have to fill that void somehow, I suppose. A second marriage hardly counts. That’s why I’m still a widow.” Becky bites her tongue to keep from laughing.
Of course, her morals. That’s the only reason her mother hasn’t found another man through all these years.
“Are you coming to my wedding or not?” Becky demands.
Her mother sighs. “No, I won’t support your sin, Rebecca.” Becky didn’t want her mother to come in the first place. She should be overjoyed that she doesn’t have to deal with that awful shrew at yet another ceremony- one that she’s actually excited about. But no matter how much she doesn’t want her mother there, it still hurts that her mother doesn’t want to be there.
Ugh. Why are feelings so hard?
Becky returns to her place with her father’s wedding ring for Tom, some childhood photos and toys, and her silly little childhood journals. When Tom and Tim come over later, Becky asks if they’d like to go through the stuff with her.
“OF COURSE!” Tim exclaims. They’re mainly girly toys, things that are much too childish for Tim, but he has fun going through it anyway. Tom sends her a hesitant look when he gets to the journals.
“You guys are family ,” Becky assures him, “you can go through whatever you want, including the journals." Becky doesn't have anything to hide nowadays.
She and Tim work through the toys while Tom reads through the journals. He giggles at parts, brings up a few different silly or fun things that she brings up. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when Becky remembers to look back at him, he’s frowning deeply.
“What’s wrong, babe?” she asks.
“Who are… Robert James, Jeremy David, and Madison Hope?”
“Oh,” Becky says, blushing a little, “those were the names of my future children. I was so sure those would be the names.” It seems so silly now: a child constantly playing house in her daydreams.
Tom looks confused. “You wanted kids?”
“Well, yeah,” Becky says, “I was a little girl in the 90s. Of course I wanted kids.”
“You always used that same set of names?” He asks cautiously.
Becky laughs tightly. “Yeah?”
Tim glances up from where he’s going through the My Little Ponies. “You can still HAVE kids.”
Becky moves to fiddle with her engagement ring. “Tim-”
Tom shakes his head. “Becky, if you want kids, that’s something we can talk about.” Becky just grimaces, which doesn't help Tom's mood at all.
He looks pained, almost. “Were you just.. Never gonna tell me? This is a big thing, Beck.”
“Tom,” Becky says, “it hasn’t been for a very long time. When I was with Stanley-” She sees Tim’s big, sad eyes, and knows she has to keep this to implications, even though Tom is very, very bad at implications.
“I didn’t want kids with a man like that,” Becky tells them, “and it's alright! I had my kids at the hospital, and now I have Tim. Really, that's enough for me.”
Tom frowns. “Beck, I always wanted more kids. We were thinking about having another back when. Well.”
“And I want siblings!” Tim chimes in.
Becky feels a bit of hope flutter inside of her. "You do?" Tim nods his head, and then goes back to brushing through a pony's mane.
“Why didn’t you mention it?” Tom asks again. Becky really, really doesn’t want to be having this conversation. She doesn't want to have this conversation at all. However, she’s a grownup now, and as she tells her patients, sometimes you have to have hard conversations to make things better.
She twirls her ring on her finger in quick little circles. “I didn’t want either of you to think Tim isn’t enough for me.”
Tim puts down the pony and crosses his arms over his chest, just to show how upset he is. “I wouldn’t think that. Don’t blame me cause you’re scared to talk to dad.”
Becky laughs. “Tim, that’s not it.” Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not all of it.
“I’m a big kid,” Tim tells her, not moving his arms from their tightly crossed position, “I’m not gonna get jealous of a baby.”
Tom picks up the journal and makes his way over to her, plopping down on the couch beside her. “What Tim means is,” he starts, glaring at this son, “is that you can’t replace kids. Tim, are you upset she thought you were too young to get that?”
Tim’s still glaring, but he manages a nod.
Tom smiles softly at him. “He’s way more mature than that. He likes video games and legos and building hot wheel tracks. He’s not gonna think you forgot about him 'cause you’re changing some diapers.”
“What will Emma think?” Becky asks, feeling a different kind of fear, “what if she thinks I’m trying to replace him?”
“Emma can be a jerk,” Tom says, “but that seems. Really harsh. Even for her.” He frowns. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”
Becky laughs. “Tom Houston? Suggesting I talk about my feelings to someone else ?”
He grins. “I was married to a shrink, Beck. She rubbed off on me.”
“Alright,” Becky says, “I’ll… try it.”
Becky decides to talk to her next week, at the time she’s scheduled for Emma to pick out a dress to be the maid of honor at their wedding.
When Becky gets there, Emma is already sitting awkwardly in the parlor of Beautiful Beginnings Bridal. This surprises Becky a bit, since she didn’t take Emma Perkins as a person who would be early for much of anything, but her family is apparently an exception. They exchange some awkward pleasantries as they start browsing the store.
It takes all of three minutes for Emma to pop that peaceful, pleasant bubble. Becky’s kind of surprised she lasted as long as she did.
“Are you sure you want me as the maid of honor?” Emma asks. “Sure, I like you and everything, but we haven’t known each other long. Shouldn’t one of the other bridesmaids do it? I’m sure they’ll feel slighted if I get priority since I’m the sister-in-law.”
Becky smiles tightly. She doesn’t really want to have to point out the obvious here when she and Emma are the only customers in the store.
Emma just looks… anxious. A little self-conscious. “Really, are you sure you want me?”
Becky lets out a frustrated sigh. “There aren’t any others, Emma. Do you see any other bridesmaids?" Emma grimaces.
Becky just forges ahead as she tells her, "It’s you or no one, okay?”
Emma looks mortified as she starts apologizing, “I am SO sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay,” Becky assures her, tears prickling at her eyelashes, “how would you know?” Most people would have someone they’re closer to than their partner's dead wife’s sister to be their maid of honor. Most people haven’t destroyed every relationship but the ones they have with coworkers and patients to keep themselves safe from their monster of a husband.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Emma tells her, “you’d be my maid of honor too.” Becky starts crying, and Emma winces.
“SHIT! I’M SORRY!” Emma says, throwing her hands in the air, “I didn’t mean to make it worse!” Becky wraps her arms around Emma’s tight, anxious frame.
“You didn’t make it worse,” she manages, “it helped. I promise.”
Emma awkwardly pats her back. “Okay, let’s find some dresses or whatever.” Becky smiles again. What an Emma Perkins way to end an emotional conversation.
When the time comes for the wedding, Tim is probably the world's smallest best man. That doesn't mean they made the wrong choice, though. Becky's sure they made the right choice, actually. Tom has an army buddy or two that could have taken on the role, but Tim’s too old to be the ring-bearer, and he needs an important part in this. This is his dad marrying his step-mom, and they’re becoming a family in the eyes of the law. Plus, Emma’s short enough that they’re about the same height walking down arm in arm anyway, and that’s REALLY funny.
They have a lovely time at the ceremony, and then the reception, and Emma gets very very drunk and talks to her about how Paul talked to her about marriage a while ago but she got nervous and killed the topic.
"I dunno," Emma tells her, clutching her whiskey sour in her hand, "maybe I blew it? Maybe he doesn't even want me anymore?" Becky glances over to Paul, who's letting Tim drag him off to play a very bad game of catch with a stuffed animal. He misses a catch because he's too busy staring at Emma.
"There's no way he's done with you," Becky tells her, "honestly? I think if you asked him tonight, he'd say yes."
Emma's eyes widen. "Wait, would that be okay with you?"
Becky grins. "Uh, yeah?"
"HELL FUCKING YEAH!"
Becky mentions what's happening to Tom, and he's not excited about it, but he's not opposed enough for it to be a fight. They weren't planning to do a toast or anything, but Becky gets the DJ to stop the music and Emma grabs the mic. She says something a little slurred and mainly just romantic in her own mind, but Paul is a flattered shade of red.
When she gets to the end of her rambling bit, Emma finishes, "I, uh, I hope that you still want to marry me because we’re all gonna feel REAL stupid and awkward if you don’t.” Becky laughs, and catches Tom's eye. He laughs too. If there's one thing they know, it's that Paul is head-over-heels for Emma. It's really cute.
Paul grins widely. “Emma Perkins, I have never wanted ANYTHING more than that.” And then there's dancing and joy and celebration of not just one family marriage, but two- like some old timey musical with a comic beta couple.
After a honeymoon spent at a beach resort, Tim meets them for a few days at Disney World. Sure, it's a bit much, but they wanted one for them as a couple and then one for them as a whole family. (It's not like Becky's had a real vacation since her dad disappeared, so she thinks it's okay to splurge.)
About eleven months later, Becky and Tom have a beautiful baby girl.
They name her Hope Eleanor Houston, partly for the daughter Becky always hoped for as a child, partly for the hope of a new life, and partly for Tom’s mother, Eleanor. They have a few lovely hours of just the three of them with the baby and her idyllic name before Emma Perkins comes and brings a hatchet down on it.
"You named her Hope?" Emma asks skeptically.
Tom glares. "What's wrong with Hope? It's a good name, you know."
Emma snorts. "Sure. it's just. Paul and I just watched this sitcom about a single dad raising a baby named Hope."
"Why would that make it bad?" Tom asks defensively.
Emma snorts even louder this time. "The baby's mom's a serial killer, Tom." Becky starts laughing immediately. Tom frowns for a second before he catches onto the joke. Only then does he start laughing.
Becky elbow him if her arms weren't still full of baby. Instead, she looks up at him wryly. "Which one of us is the serial killer here, Tom?”
“It’s me,” Tim says solemnly, reaching out to take his baby sister, "I'm the killer."
Becky makes an exaggerated face of horror. “I’m not sure I should give her to you anymore, Mr. Ripper.”
He pouts out his lip. “Beeeeckkkyyy!”
She grins. “I’m teasing you, Tim.” Then she gently slips her daughter into her step-son’s arms.
He’s so gentle and sweet with her that Becky would cry. She doesn’t, because she has a little more self-control than that, but she really, truly could. They spend a bit more time chatting, passing baby Hope around like the opposite of a hot potato, but Emma keeps shrugging off the chance to hold her niece. She promises that she doesn't need to, that Hope's a tiny little baby she doesn't want to hurt and it's more important for the rest of them to hold her.
Tim gets sick of it, and gently holds her out for his aunt to take despite her protests.
"Really, Tim," Emma says, "I'm okay. No use wasting precious baby time on me."
Tim glares at her. "You never got to hold me, so you should hold Hope.”
Emma sends him a skeptical look. "Are you... guilt tripping me?"
Tim keeps extending his arms and waiting for her to take his baby sister. "Is it working?"
Emma snorts, but the look on her face isn't just wry; it's sad. "Okay, kid." She reaches over awkwardly and gets Hope settled in her arms. She looks down at her with all the love in the world.
It’s really nice, actually. It’s nice to have family again. And it's nice to have Hope.
