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…
The whole concept is kind of stupid.
In her opinion, anyway.
They’ve only been in Jackson for about a month and a half when Ellie learns the significance of the third Sunday in June. A specific day of the year chosen just to celebrate fathers. But she doesn't have one of those so she's not sure exactly what that has to with her.
A date that at first means very little to her, but as it turns out was apparently a pretty big thing before. It’s certainly not something she’d ever paid attention to back in Boston. It’s not like she doesn’t know about holidays or about the random shit people used to celebrate. Her school in the QZ might have been lax in teaching her a lot of important stuff, but that doesn't mean that she didn’t make good use of the library whenever she could.
But she never wasted her time reading about shit that had nothing to do with her. Most of the books she had her nose stuck in were about space or dinosaurs. History and fiction. Heroes and villains. Fantasy. Even practical shit that would've helped her be more valuable to FEDRA. That didn't leave room for much else.
She overhears the kids in her class at school talking about what they’ll be doing over the weekend. Which is a pretty typical topic of discussion on Fridays. The classroom fills with a smattering of overlapping voices that she normally never pays any attention to, too busy keeping to herself, her head bent low over the sketchbook in front of her.
It's not until the nosy blonde girl that sits near Ellie turns to her and asks, “so what are you doing for your dad on Father’s Day?” that she truly realizes just how not normal she is compared to most of the other kids. Only a couple of them have come from a QZ and even fewer are orphans like her. And the ones who are orphaned like her were taken in by family, by blood, something Ellie has never had.
Suffice it to say she never knew that Father’s Day was actually a thing. That people really celebrated it. Similar to birthdays, but also not, as far as she knows – which isn’t much. Her birthday wasn’t exactly something people celebrated either, other than the handmade items or comic books Riley gave her. But it’s not her fault that she came from a place that would’ve had no reason to celebrate something that most didn’t have. A military school full of orphans wouldn’t have recognized a holiday about having a fucking parent.
“I don’t have a fucking dad,” she bites out, more waspish than the other girl probably deserves, but Ellie hadn’t expected the question to hurt so much. Especially considering it hadn’t been asked vindictively, but for some reason it managed to hit a nerve, one that pinches in her gut sharply.
All she can think about is you’re not my daughter. Half a year of separation from that conversation does nothing for how well she can recall how it makes her feel. How often she's thought about it. How she's wanted to ask Joel, but at the same time doesn't really want to know just in case his answer hasn't changed. There's no reason to dig up old shit between them. Not if nothing good will come of it. Things are going pretty decent right now. She doesn't want to mess that up.
“Oh,” the girl says, taken aback, blue eyes widening. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to –”
Ellie doesn’t wait for her to finish whatever half-assed, pitying apology. She slams her sketchbook shut and shoves it back into her pack by her feet on the floor, barely bothering to zip it halfway shut before getting to her feet with enough force to send the chair squealing backwards.
Several eyes turn to her at once at the commotion and it’s all she can do not to sprint from the room.
She’s pretty sure that her teacher yells something after her at her abrupt departure but she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down her pace once she’s out in the hallway.
Suddenly the air in the small building is stifling, and she can’t stand to be inside the school a moment longer.
Her skin prickles with heat and her heart picks up pace in time with the way her head is now pounding, and sweat is trickling down her spine, seeping through her shirt, and it’s too fucking hot here in the summer. Nothing like Boston summers and this is all so damn new and she’s messing it up already, freaking out over something so dumb.
Ellie needs to get her shit together.
So what if she doesn’t have a father. Not like she’s ever missed having one before. Ever really fucking needed one for that matter. What does it even matter that she can’t celebrate the way the other kids do? She shouldn’t be upset about something she’s never had. She’s done just fine on her own. It shouldn’t be any different now.
Besides, she’s got Joel – even though he’s made it perfectly clear already that he’s not her dad – and the living arrangements she has now are the best she’s ever had. Things are so much better here than a QZ, even if she sticks out like a sore thumb because she just doesn’t know how it fucking works around here. She’ll adapt and learn. It’s what she’s used to after all.
She’ll survive. She’ll manage on her own.
Like she always has.
Ellie knows better than to complain. Even if Jackson isn’t like Boston – she doesn’t think anyone will smack her around for being a little ungrateful – she’s still afraid to upset the balance. To do something that’ll make Joel finally realize what a burden she is and kick her to the curb. She keeps waiting for him to come to his senses about how much of a problem she is for him. That he doesn’t need to feel responsible for her.
But she can’t bring herself to think too much about that.
Instead, she makes her way to her new favorite spot in town, the only place that feels even remotely safe. She goes to the stables to see the horses, blessedly finding it empty of people, and makes her way first to Thunder’s stall. He’s Joel’s horse or as much as he can be with everything in this town belonging to fucking everyone basically.
She’d met Thunder a couple of days after they first arrived in Jackson the second time around and immediately loved him.
He’s a beautiful horse and kind of perfect if Ellie’s being honest. Joel says he’s an Andalusian dapple grey – not that she knows what that even means – and they have good temperaments. Excellent for working. Smart and docile but not skittish. He’s big for his breed or at least he seems big to Ellie. She likes that he lets her braid his mane and press kisses to his nose. He doesn’t seem to mind when she buries her face in his warm sturdy neck. Thunder is solid and steady, something that Ellie still finds so rare.
And she’d probably never admit it even under pain of death, but one of the reasons she finds Thunder so comforting is how much he manages to remind her of Joel.
Ellie can’t explain it exactly. How a horse could exude such exceptional Joel energy but he just does.
She feels safe with him, as strange as that is. And he has a way of making her feel brave too. She often finds the nerve to burrow into Thunder’s withers more than she could find it enough to throw her arms around Joel.
So she hugs Thunder in the way she wishes she could hug Joel – fiercely, without restraint.
And once she’s talked his ear off with her many grievances and he’s listened intently, bobbing his head, ears twitching, and nostrils snorting softly like he agrees that holidays are fucking pointless, she kisses his nose in gratitude before climbing up onto the hay loft to read her book.
It's one of her favorite books. One Joel got her while out on the road. It’s become something of a comfort lately to turn to despite it being technically a child’s illustrative novel. The pictures soothe her as silly as that seems. Perhaps it’s because of the handwritten note inside from Joel himself.
So you can spout more space facts at me – J
She finds herself tracing her fingers over the lines of ink often enough that it nearly smudges.
Ellie reads the page about Mars until the images blur and she finds her eyes slipping shut and her breathing evening out, the book lies open beside her slack hand. The smell of horses and hay familiar to her nose.
She’s lulled to sleep incidentally.
…
Ellie is jolted awake by the pounding thud of boots on compacted dirt down below the loft of the barn. Horses startled by the commotion thump on prancing hooves, surprised brays that echo through the vaulted wooden ceiling.
She sits up and leans towards the edge by the ladder so she can find out who’s making all that noise, her eyes adjusting to only the mere lamplight below, shocking herself at how late it seems, night having nearly fallen.
Shit, she hadn’t meant to fall asleep and certainly not for this long. It’s dinner time at least, which means she was expected at home several hours ago.
Oh no. That’s not good.
She’ll be lucky if Joel hasn’t already got the whole town out looking for her and a search party outside the walls on top of that. She swore to him that no matter how bad it got that she’d always tell him where she was going. If she was feeling cooped up or just in need of some fresh air. That was part of their deal when they settled here. One of the few rules that he seemed really serious about and she went and broke it.
He’ll think she willfully disobeyed him. That she’s being ungrateful, throwing away his goodwill like it means nothing.
She just hopes that he isn’t too furious.
The glimpse she gets at the noisy boot stomper surprises her too because it’s not a stable hand or a patrolman. He spots her at the same time she sees his curly head.
“Ellie?” Tommy asks, breathless like he’s run from wherever he came from. “Hey,” he adds, this time sounding desperately hopeful. She blinks at him, startled by the emotion splayed across his face, plain as day.
He’s starting up the ladder, harried in a way that throws her off balance, the urgency pulling at the corners of his eyes. “Goodness gracious, darlin’,” he starts at her silence, pausing at the top of the rungs to appraise her like he’d been worried. “Been looking all over for you.”
“Hay is for horses,” she tells him, deadpan. So distracted, he doesn’t really react to her excellent joke. Too busy scanning her for injuries or whatever the fuck he’s doing.
Which is lame because he doesn’t know her well enough to be this concerned. To be this bent out of shape over her accidental disappearing act. It’s like she’s his kid or even his responsibility. She isn’t anything other than the girl living in his brother’s house.
Joel frets as easy as breathing, but Tommy hasn’t really seemed the type. At least before now. But it's true, she can tell that he is upset. He might be still mostly a stranger to her, but she can tell that much. And there is relief too by how he casts his gaze over her, looking for something to be wrong.
Or maybe he’s just looking for the reason why she isn’t where she’s supposed to be.
It's then that she notices her sketchbook clutched in his hand. A glance over at her slightly unzipped backpack proves it must have fallen out during her trek here.
“You been up here this whole time?” Tommy checks.
He sounds both impressed and exhausted by this, like maybe she’s been missing for longer than she originally guessed. It makes the guilt swell inside her. The idea that she probably inconvenienced them horribly. They no doubt spent their entire afternoon looking for her. Countless people probably had to stop and join the search, interrupting their day.
“Yeah,” she mumbles, cheeks heating. “I just needed some space. I – um – didn’t mean to fall asleep.” The excuse sounds dismal even to her.
Tommy releases a sigh and his shoulders drop slightly, as he nods a bit and hoists himself fully into the loft, making sure not to crowd her. He holds out the sketchbook to her, and only after a second’s hesitation she takes it hastily with shaking hands she tries to hide.
“I found that outside the stables,” he says before she can ask. “Thought you might like it back.” It’s said with a casualness that she’s sure neither of them feels.
“Thanks,” she whispers reluctantly, pulling it closer until it’s safely against her chest. Fingers running along the spine just for something to do.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, surveying her with dark keen eyes. Reminding her of Joel and yet somehow also not. The corner of his mouth tics up into a tiny grin that she thinks is supposed to put her at ease but right now she’s not really sure what to feel besides out of place.
“Rough day at school?” he asks, voice deliberately soft, careful like he’s scared of spooking her.
Ellie scowls at the floor and pulls her knees to her chest, suddenly wishing that he would just demand they go find Joel. Anything to get out of whatever talk Tommy suddenly thinks they should have. This bonding shit or whatever he insists on trying to do with her. Asking her questions and attempting to get to know her. It’s annoying.
She shrugs.
“Hm,” he hums in that annoying way of his. “Ms. Parker said you ran out of class pretty abruptly this morning. Thought you mighta had an upset stomach or something and went to get Joel.” His mouth quirks, and he narrows his eyes thoughtfully. Oddly it kind of makes her want to punch him. “Funny thing though when school ended no one had seen hide nor hair of you in a while. Certainly not my brother. He ‘bout threw a damn conniption when he realized no one knew where you were. That they hadn’t for hours.”
His tone is anything but accusing but she still bristles at the facts being thrown at her.
“It’s not like I meant to disappear, man. I told you I fucking fell asleep, alright? It won’t happen again. You can go tell Joel that I’m fine, and he can quit shitting a brick,” she says, hotly, indignation coiling in her belly.
She refuses to acknowledge that one of the emotions wrapping around her ribcage feels a lot like embarrassment. Like shame.
“No one is mad, Ellie girl. Just worried. You ain’t in trouble or anything,” Tommy says, like that’s what she’s upset about, like his words are meant to be reassuring, but the guilt only builds. She doesn’t want people worrying about her. She’s not worth it. And it’s not like she hasn’t been in trouble before. Wouldn’t be the first time. “And my brother is only shitting a brick right now because his kid went missing. Can’t say I really blame him either.”
“You got Joel in a real tizzy,” Tommy tells her, and she’s not sure if the words are meant to make her feel ill but they do. “But I reckon that ain’t nothing we can’t fix.”
Ellie also isn’t sure what a tizzy is but she assumes it’s probably nothing good.
“You wanna tell me why you left school early?” he asks and again she wonders why it matters. Why he cares. It’s not his business. Not his problem.
She shakes her head. “Not really, no.”
“Did something happen?” Tommy presses, brows furrowed.
As if she would tell him. “Nothing happened, just couldn’t stand to be there any longer and so I booked it. Don’t make a big deal out of it. Let’s just go. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it.” Not to you, she adds internally, glaring at him.
“Alright,” Tommy acquiesces with an ease that shocks her a bit. “Don’t gotta talk about anything if you don’t wanna, darlin’, but if you change your mind and you need a good listening ear, one that don’t belong to my hard ass, stick in the mud big brother, I’m here, okay?”
Ellie is not ready to analyze why the hell he’s being so nice to her when he’s got no reason to be.
“Yeah, whatever,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and snagging her backpack off the floor and slinging one strap over her shoulder. Her signal to him that this conversation is finished as far as she’s concerned. “We shouldn’t keep Joel waiting. He might shit another brick or something.”
Tommy snorts, nodding, seemingly unbothered by her reticence. “You ain’t wrong about that, Ellie girl.” He goes first down the ladder and then lingers at the bottom until she’s safely on the ground. His hand hovers close to her back but doesn’t touch as they exit the stables.
They don’t make it very far outside before Ellie spots Joel practically sprinting towards her from the down the street. He’s got his pack with him, and his gun strapped in its holster on his hip, like he was preparing to go outside the walls, no doubt planning to look for her.
“El-lie!” The elongated pronunciation of her name shouldn’t make her eyes sting, but it does.
She lets him close the distance between them like his ass is on fire, the backpack slips off his shoulder carelessly, hitting the ground with a thump that he doesn’t seem to notice or mind, too focused on her. The creases deeply lined into his weathered face turn her stomach sour, the tense line of his shoulders, his pinched down turned mouth, the way his right hand flexes repeatedly down at his side.
Joel practically skids to a halt right in front of her, hauling her up into his arms without any hesitation, high enough that her toes almost come off the ground.
His hands clutch at her with a desperation that make her ache down to her bones. Like it hasn’t just been this morning since he saw her. Like she really did scare the shit out of him, as accidental as it was. She hugs him back after her brain unfreezes, not used to such a physical display of affection when they don’t normally do this sort of thing. Not without someone being on the brink of death.
He finally pulls back a little to brace his hands on her shoulders, dark eyes intensely raking over her like he can’t take her in fast enough.
A shaking palm raises to brush along her cheek.
“You okay, kiddo? Not hurt or anything?” he asks, rushing the words out of his mouth.
She shakes her head.
He bows forward, slumping with relief as his forehead touches to the top of her head, lips in her hair. A hand settles on the back of her neck, squeezing gently.
“Jesus, baby girl,” he mutters, heaving in a trembling breath that coasts over her face. “Scared the hell outta me. Where were you?”
“I fell asleep in the hay loft,” Ellie answers truthfully, sounding anguished to her own ears. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” she adds, lips quivering against her will. The last thing she wants to do is cry like a fucking little kid.
A kiss is pressed to her head and a shaking hand runs over her hair, fingers weaving into the messy strands that have fallen out of her ponytail. “Okay, baby. That’s okay. It’s alright.” That particular pet name is fairly new, and she tries not to preen every time he uses it.
He sighs again and releases his hold on her, and she almost chases after the lost contact before she thinks better of it, very aware of Tommy still standing off to the side, for once not running his mouth like he seems to do a lot lately, especially to her. Joel turns his head to his brother, sharing a look that she doesn’t quite understand, but Tommy seems to because he nods and claps Joel on the shoulder before glancing at her and offering her a grin and a wink.
“Next time you feel like falling asleep in odd places, Ellie girl, give your old man here a heads up, okay?” The tone says Tommy is teasing but she’s sort of focused on the casual reference to her relationship with Joel. The possession of it as if he could ever truly belong to her.
She doesn’t want to analyze why it pisses her off so much. How easy he can make an assumption that has plagued her own mind for months.
“Fuck you, asshole. I told you it was an accident,” she snarls with more venom than necessary, her already frayed nerves splitting further the longer they’re outside with so many eyes on them. “How about you fucking drop it already, huh?”
Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead and she feels Joel’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing in warning, but he makes no other moves to correct her. “We better get home ‘fore dark. Thanks for the help, Tommy,” Joel says before she can be any ruder to his brother or make a scene.
She can feel Tommy’s eyes on her, but despite what she said he doesn’t seem offended. “Of course,” he says, jovial as always, inclining his head. “Y’all have a good night now. Glad you’re okay, darlin’.”
Ellie is back to wanting to slug him in the face because she can’t understand why, but she can tell he fucking means that. She tells herself that the comment was for Joel’s benefit and nothing at all to with actually caring about her.
It doesn’t take long for them to make it back to their little blue house, number 38, at the end of the block.
She doesn’t know exactly what to expect when they get inside and Joel shucks his boots off and puts them neatly by the door. She can practically feel his eye roll when she removes her own shoes with far less grace, kicking at them haphazardly until they’re next to his on the floor. He mutters something about her having no home training with enough fondness that she figures he can’t be too mad.
Still, Ellie is sure that he’s going to lecture her or scold her or remind her once again of the rules she agreed to when they first arrived here over a month ago. Maybe order her to quit being so shitty to his brother.
“You hungry, kiddo?” is what comes out of his mouth though, his brows knitted together. “I can heat up some soup for you since you missed dinner.”
The last thing on her mind is food.
All she can think about is the fact that Father’s Day is in less than two days, and she might be the only one in the whole fucking town not celebrating it. The only one without a family. But she can’t foist that shit onto Joel who clearly doesn’t want to be anything like that to her, and she can’t really blame him. She probably wouldn’t want her either.
She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry. Think I’m gonna go shower and get this horse smell off me.” There’s hay still stuck in her hair and dirt on her jeans.
The frown lines deepen on Joel’s face; his eyes probe her like he knows she hasn’t eaten since breakfast. He fusses a lot about her eating habits but he’s still careful not to push too hard whenever she gets overwhelmed. And the last thing she wants is him worrying about her more than he already does, so she gives the most believable smile she can muster.
“Seriously, Joel, I’m fine. I just don’t have much of an appetite today is all, and I’m tired. Think I’m gonna wash off and go to bed early,” she tells him, hoping to ward off the fretting that will inevitably come. Like she hasn’t spent the last couple of hours sleeping.
The furrow in his brows sharpens and the hand he touches to her forehead and then her cheek tells her just how much he doesn’t believe her.
“You sure you’re okay, baby?” he asks, dipping his head slightly to meet her gaze better, a thumb brushes along her cheek. His expression is openly concerned, caring and tender in a way it’s perpetually been since Colorado. Since the raid at the hospital that they barely made it out of alive.
It still steals her breath. Ellie wishes she could figure out how to get him to quit worrying about her so much.
She can’t stop herself from leaning into his warm, calloused palm. “I promise, dude. Just need to catch up on my sleep when I can get it. Last night… I couldn’t.”
He knows that it’s been hard for her, especially at night. The nightmares come for her often and brutally. In fact, the first few days after they arrived here from Salt Lake City, she could only fall and stay asleep in the daytime. She napped a shit ton that first week because it was the only time her body finally let her find any rest.
It’s gotten better since then, but she still finds herself hit with bouts of insomnia, of night terrors that feels all too real.
“You could’ve woken me, kiddo.” His eyes, wide and forlorn, are almost too much.
She forces herself to roll her shoulders.
“You already have enough trouble with sleep without me making it worse,” she tells him. “At least one of us should be getting some decent rest.”
He bites the inside of his cheek, and he’s still got that look on his face, the one that always threatens to unravel her, turn her into fucking mush because she doesn’t know what she did to deserve this. Deserve him and his care. How every time she finds herself thrown off balance, Joel is right there, steady and constant and ready to help in whatever way she’ll let him. Even if she’s struggling with that part. Not used to having someone in her corner, being so supportive for no other reason than he just wants to be.
It's something she can’t fathom.
“Don’t you worry about me, kiddo. It’s what –” he pauses, swallowing roughly. “It’s what I’m here for. I want you to know that you can come to me with anything, okay?” Joel tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
That’s another new thing he’s been doing since Salt Lake City. He’s been encouraging her to talk to him, lean on him, tell him shit instead of keeping it all in. It’s weird for him to have such a change in tune, especially now that they’re in Jackson, he’s really ramped up his fussing. And as it turns out, he’s way more of a mother hen then she ever would’ve guessed. He’s also way more obvious about it than she thought he was capable of being, always making sure she was being careful, eating her veggies and getting enough sleep.
She’s gotten used to the attentiveness – well sort of – but what she hasn’t gotten any better at is actually letting him in the way he seems to want to be. If she's honest with herself, the way she wants him to be too.
Ellie has never had anything like this before, and she feels so out of her depth.
“Any time of day, it don’t matter,” Joel continues, voice gruff and familiar and somehow soothing. “You need me, you come get me. I mean it, you hear?”
She blinks hard, biting her lip and ducking her head from the intensity of his gaze. His hand drops from her face, and he lets her withdraw from him, but he stays close enough that she can still feel the warmth of his body, the reassuring presence that he always manages to have.
“Yeah, I hear you,” she mumbles.
Even though it doesn’t look like he believes her, when she retreats up the stairs, he doesn’t try and stop her.
And when she steps out of the bathroom after cleaning up to find a tray of soup and grilled cheese next to her bed along with a note – in case you change your mind, J – she tells herself that she’s not going to cry. That she is absolutely not going to have a meltdown over some soup and a sandwich. It doesn’t matter that he cut the grilled cheese into dumb little triangles or that he peeled the crust off the way he somehow knows she likes it best. Or the fact that she finds herself wanting to eat it just because he made it.
She tells herself that’s the reason she eats some of it, because she doesn’t want to waste it. Not for any other reason. It’s certainly not to ease his mind.
…
The next day – Saturday – Ellie is resolute in her decision to pretend that Father’s Day simply doesn’t apply to her and Joel. That recognizing it at all could do more harm than good, especially if it brings up memories for Joel, stuff that might be painful, things he won’t want to remember.
A whole other reason to avoid it altogether.
She’s got twenty-four hours or so to figure out how to give him a wide berth, just in case he won’t want to see her. Her plan is to lay low, stay out of the way, minimize whatever hurt will surely resurface. She could probably volunteer, maybe in the kitchen or the greenhouses, even farming duty as much as it’s not really her thing. It’ll give her something to do. Get her out of the house and out of Joel’s hair.
Decision made, Ellie grabs some toast and a glass of juice out of the fridge, something Joel insists she drink every morning – he’s kind of anal about it for some reason. She makes a pot of chicory coffee for Joel whenever he wakes up. She takes solace in the sound of it percolating.
She gets her sketchbook out and goes to sit on the porch. The early summer mornings are nice in Wyoming. The clear blue sky above her, the gentle breeze, the smell of wildflowers and cherry blossoms. Maybe she’ll pick some later. Watermelon too because Joel likes those.
It's early for her to be awake but she’s found herself keeping odd hours lately.
And perhaps, stranger still is Tommy noticing her out on the porch and immediately striding across the street, coming to a stop at the foot of the stairs. He props a boot up on the bottom stair, inclining his head at her amiably, like she hadn’t been rude to him only yesterday.
“Good mornin’,” he says. “You’re up early, Ellie girl. Whatcha got going on today?”
Always so nosy. She fights the urge to scowl, to tell him exactly where he can shove that good morning.
“Nothing much,” she says, mulish.
“Hm,” he hums, scratching at his chin, unphased by her tone. “Well, you wanna come give me a hand in the stables for a few hours? I know you’ve taken a real shine to Thunder. He’s certainly taken a likin’ to you.”
Ellie seriously can’t figure out what his obsession is with getting to know her, spending time with her. Dude can’t take a hint that she doesn’t want to know him.
“What’d ya say, darlin’ ?” he asks when she doesn’t say anything.
Well, she does like the stables and even though Tommy will no doubt talk her ear off or God forbid, try to bond with her, it’s not a terrible way to spend her Saturday, especially if that means she can hang out with Thunder. She could always just tune Tommy out until he stops talking.
Besides, the alternative would be hanging out at the house by herself when Joel gets inevitably pulled away by some job or whatever. He says that he’s not trying to ditch her but sometimes it still feels that way. He always invites her along but then she just feels like a burden. Like she's dragging him down.
“Fine, but it’s just so I can see Thunder again,” she tells him, getting to her feet and shutting her sketchbook.
“Fair enough,” Tommy replies, agreeable as ever.
Ellie leaves a note next to the coffee maker, so Joel doesn’t wonder where she went and shit another brick. She promises to meet him in the dining hall for dinner if they don’t run into each other before that. She can do this. She's just practicing the whole space thing. Maria says they're co-dependent anyway - whatever the fuck that means.
She follows along after Tommy to the stables.
…
Most of the day remains pretty much uneventful.
Ellie spends it in the company of her favorite horses, she finds herself gravitating towards Thunder’s stall often, resolutely ignoring the grin on Tommy’s face when he notices how endeared she is by Joel’s horse.
She helps Tommy with the chores – even shoveling the horse shit – and surprisingly, he doesn’t try to make a whole lot of conversation. They mostly just vibe, and she’s grateful that he’s not trying to interrogate her or bother her any more about what happened yesterday. It wasn’t a big deal after all.
Everything is going fine until they stop by the dining hall to grab some sandwiches for lunch.
Nancy, an older lady with a love of cooking and sticking her nose into other people’s business, has to open her fucking mouth and ruin everything.
Ellie mostly ignores the lady other than to mumble a thanks for the food she puts on her tray as Tommy plays nice with his southern fucking charm and pleasantries, nodding and smiling along to whatever the hell Nancy is spouting, probably asking all the normal intrusive questions people seem to want answers to around here.
Personally, Ellie doesn’t think it’s anyone’s business how she’s doing in school or if she’s making friends.
It’s not until Nancy turns to her and says, “I bet you’re happy as a clam for tomorrow, ain’t ya, sweetheart, finally getting a chance to celebrate your dad and uncle on their special day. If you need anything sweet baked, you let me know, okay? I’m sure Joel got the same sweet tooth as his daughter.” She has the gall to fucking wink at Ellie.
Ellie knows deep down that Nancy is probably a really nice person. Most likely someone’s mother or aunt or grandma, even, and in another time and place, she would’ve said that the woman looks like she gives good hugs, but right now all she can do is process her words, feeling the ice that slides up her spine and settles at the base of her neck.
It seems no matter how much she corrects people when she hears them say it – because she doesn’t want Joel thinking that she’s letting everyone come to that conclusion – they won’t quit assuming that Joel is her dad.
“Can’t say I’m happy as a fucking clam, lady, considering Joel isn’t my fucking dad,” she finds herself saying before she can think better of it. Before she realizes that Tommy is standing right next to her. “I’m a fucking orphan. I don’t have anything to celebrate tomorrow, but thanks for reminding me.”
She doesn’t want to admit that now it’s starting to get hurtful. Almost like the universe is rubbing it in that he’ll never be that for her, whether she wants him to be or not. And because she can’t stand the way they’re both staring at her, she drops the tray back on the counter with a resounding thwack and walks away, no longer hungry and no longer caring that Tommy is saying her name and that she’s probably making a scene. She doesn’t want to be around them for another second.
She makes a break for the dining hall doors and doesn’t look back.
Ellie walks without a particular destination in mind, just needing to get away from everyone, a moment alone to think, to breath. She’s already thinking of a way to explain her hasty exit to Tommy, come up with some excuse for why she went off on that old hag for her stupid assumptions. Maybe apologize for people always jumping to the wrong conclusion. It’s gotta be embarrassing for Tommy and Joel to be associated with her against their wishes.
It's not like anyone has wanted to be tied to her in the past, and certainly not permanently.
She wouldn’t blame Tommy for being upset.
Ellie finds herself near her second favorite place in Jackson, the shoddy looking treehouse by the pond where some of townspeople like to fish and the kids swim. Joel always tells her it doesn’t look safe to climb, the contractor in him being highly critical of the wood working job. It’s felt pretty sturdy to her and so she’s never listened to him, even if her increased time up here has led to him promising to build one just for her, designed by trusted hands. She still thinks he’d be wasting his time making one specially for her.
It's not until she climbs to the top and sits along the edge with her feet dangling through the slats in the railing that she sees Tommy has followed her.
He surveys her position with hands propped on his hips. “Thought my brother didn’t like you hanging out up there?”
“And I thought you how to take a fucking hint that I want to be left alone,” she replies, jaw set and gaze hard.
“It would seem neither of us are good listeners,” he says, inclining his head and shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, all fucking casual. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t pulling a runner. Didn’t wanna have to explain to Joel about how I managed to lose his kid.”
She chooses to stoutly ignore the implications of his words. He makes it sound like she makes a habit of running off. “Well, as you can see,” she gestures grandly, “I didn’t run away so you can fucking go now, thanks.”
Something in his expression softens and she immediately hates the way it makes her feel. She glares harder, clenching her fists in her lap, digging her nails into her palms enough to hurt, hoping to distract from what’s lurking underneath. The pressure behind her eyes, the quiver of her chin. The way everything in her cries out.
“I also wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says, jerking his chin back the way they came. “After what happened back there with Nancy. I’m sure she’d didn’t mean nothing by what she said– ”
“I don’t care what the fuck she meant. I’m not apologizing for setting her straight, man. It’s not my fault she jumped to the wrong conclusion,” she cuts across him hotly, feeling shame lick its way up her neck. And just like that the things built up in her chest come tumbling out.
“I keep correcting people but they’re just not taking the fucking hint, so don’t go telling Joel that I’m spreading lies because I’m not. I know he’s not my dad. That – that you guys aren’t like my family or anything, but you still let me stay and I’m super fucking grateful.” She shrugs and swipes at her eye. “I mean you coulda fucking stuck me with some strangers, but you didn’t. It’s … probably the nicest shit anyone has done for me, ever.” Her throat starts to close up and her voice cracks and it gets tougher to get the words out through her clogged airway. The world feels like it’s getting smaller, closing in on her. Her skin feels hot and prickly, and she hiccups a trembling breath.
Her vision of Tommy blurs.
“Just please don’t tell Joel about this okay? I – I like living with him, but I don’t want him to know that people are like assuming shit about us. For him to think that I’m trying to replace Sa- anyone, okay? Please don’t fucking tell him, Tommy. If he knew how many people keep calling him my – fuck, dude I just –” she stops, gasping and bowing her head until it touches the rough wood of the railing.
The last thing she wants is for this to get back to Joel and somehow hurt him.
Through the fog, she thinks she hears him say, “whoa, hey, darlin’. You’re okay.”
Suddenly, she blinks and breathes choppily, and sort of wishes she could disappear and then Tommy has somehow gotten up the treehouse shitty ladder too and he’s sitting his ass down a few feet away from her, his expression twisted into something anguished and plaintive.
His jaw is working hard, she can see the muscles twitching in his cheek and neck. He seems to be trying to figure out what to say. His hands twitch and fidget like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them either.
“Ellie, honey,” Tommy starts heavily. “I think you and I need to have a talk and set some things straight.”
Sniffling, she goes to open her mouth and demand to know what the hell that even means and if he’s about to tell her how ridiculous she is than he can actually just fucking not. “Now don’t take this the wrong way or nothing but I think you’re operating under some mighty wrong facts.”
“What the fuck would you know?” she counters crossly, sick of people thinking they’re right. That they’ve got it all figured out. This is coming from the guy who hadn’t seen his brother in over a decade. A guy who barely knows anything about her. Where she came from. What her and Joel went through. Dude probably doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.
Tommy, who’s buttons she can never seem to adequately push, simply cocks an eyebrow up at her. “Lot more than you think, Ellie girl. ‘Cause I know I might seem like just a pretty face.” She snorts. “But I got eyes that work just fine and decent observation skills if I do say so myself,” he pauses to wink at her, giving an easy grin. “And I do.”
Ellie rolls her eyes.
“And you know what I’ve observed?” he asks when she doesn’t say anything.
“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” she intones, grouchily, posture drooping as she swings out a leg from where it’s hanging off the side of the treehouse.
“That you and Joel are family.”
It’s not what she expected him to say. She’s fairly certain he was gonna say something dumb. So his statement, said so nonchalantly manages to derail her completely. She does little more than blink at him, breath stolen, body frozen, thoughts barely scraping by.
“My brother is crazy about you, sweetheart,” Tommy murmurs, gentle with it in a way that makes her want to hug him and lash out, tell him to fucking stop. That he has no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. “I might’ve missed a lot, but I’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss that.”
He clears his throat, adjusts his seat, no doubt because his ass is going numb from the wood.
“You aren’t a replacement, Ellie,” he says, sounding more severe than he has this entire time. “And I know you got no reason to believe me right now and that’s okay, but I need you to know that none of us thinks of you that way. You’re your own person, darlin’. A mighty bright one that saved my brother’s life at that. And I can’t – I can’t begin to tell ya what that means to me. That I got my brother back because of you. You brought him back, and I’m grateful. So damn grateful.”
It’s … admittedly a lot. Considering this is probably the realest conversation they’ve ever had. And she’s not sure what to do with the kind of vulnerability that he’s displaying, especially coming from a Miller. She certainly doesn’t feel like she did too great of a job of saving Joel. Dude did get fucking stabbed on her watch.
Tommy fucking sniffles and swipes underneath his eyes, coughing a little and shaking his head.
“Anyways, I’m pretty sure Joel would let you call him whatever the hell you wanted, kiddo,” he says, chuckling wetly, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. “And I don’t think he gives a rat’s ass what other people call him.” His eyes seem to almost glisten at her, soft and warm, a pool of brown so like Joel’s own. “But he’ll get ‘em to stop if it makes you uncomfortable. Just gotta tell him and he’ll nip that shit in the bud.”
The last thing she wants is to talk to him about it. That’s kind of what she wants to avoid.
“I’m not – it’s not that – it doesn’t bother me or make uncomfortable or whatever,” she rambles. “I just thought it would bother him, you know? Because I’m not… I’m not actually his kid.”
It did bother him before she wants to say but also really doesn’t want to say. Dredge up things that her and Joel have never brought up again for a reason. She also doesn’t want Tommy knowing her fucking business either or that she was hurt so profoundly just from Joel stating the simple truth. It’s embarrassing that she got so upset.
Before Tommy can respond, she adds hastily, “And I figured that whole um Father’s Day thing might also hold some memories for him that he doesn’t really wanna remember or whatever, so I’ve been trying to get people to fucking shut up about it, but it’s super hard and no one’s really taking the fucking hint and this stupid holiday tomorrow isn’t helping anything either, because I keep getting asked what I’m gonna do for him and –” she blows out a breath, feeling the panic build in her chest, the pressure overwhelming.
“It’s not that I don’t not want to do something nice for him necessarily, it’s just –” she fumbles and stops again, frustrated.
“Super fucking complicated?” Tommy supplies, helpfully.
“Well, yeah,” Ellie exhales, huffing. “I mean we’ve only been doing this whatever the fuck we are for a few months now and it’s still so new and the last thing I wanna do is mess it up by trying to give him some stupid gift to celebrate something that he may not even want to be to me. I don’t wanna… burden him anymore than I already have. He already feels obligated for some reason to take care of me and I don’t wanna give him another reason to ditch me.” Again.
And ok, she might not have meant to spill all that but it’s not like she can take it back now. She feels her cheeks heat and she ducks her head back down to stare at her knees.
Tommy nods like he understands though, chewing on the inside of his cheek and on her words for a solid minute. He ponders long enough that she kind of wants to tell him to spit it out already.
His throat works hard, tilting his head, he says, “I, uh, can’t speak for my brother. I certainly ain’t of a mind to understand where his head is at with this … holiday, but I can tell you right now that the last thing he sees you as is a burden or an obligation. You ain’t something that got dumped on him. He wants you, honey. I bet right about now he can’t imagine a life without ya, and I reckon he don’t even wanna try.”
The air feels like it’s been sucked out of her lungs.
“How can you– you can’t know that,” she chokes, overcome, and the traitorous tears begin to spill over. She swipes at them hurriedly. Tommy needs to quit with these emotional haymakers. They’re doing her in. Where the hell do he get off being so fucking self-aware?
Ellie knows that her and Joel have moved beyond her being just a job – cargo – and he’s made it clear that he cares about her, that he feels responsible for her. He’d even tried to tell her before Salt Lake City in his own Joel way. But it still seems like a huge leap to her that he could care as much as Tommy is suggesting. Besides, Ellie hasn’t exactly had a good track record with people caring that much about her.
It scares the shit out of her. The idea of being that fundamental to Joel. To anyone, really.
“You don’t know the first thing about me and Joel,” she dismisses, shoring herself up.
Tommy licks his lips, shrugging and conceding this with a nod. “You’re right that I don’t know what y’all have been through to get here, nor do I know exactly what mighta brought y’all together so profoundly, but that don’t mean I can’t see the connection between you two plain as day. Even on my emotionally constipated big brother as impossible as that might seem.”
He flicks his eyes towards her, mouth quirking. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he don’t really do feelings and such too well.” That manages to get a snort from her.
No shit, she refrains from saying.
“But I can tell he sure is crazy about you, darlin’. You make him feel so damn much, I reckon he don’t know what to do with it,” Tommy adds, chuckling too. “Much less know quite how to tell you, but perhaps it ain’t for me to try and say it for him,” he admits, sobering slightly.
Just like fucking Tommy, it seems, to prattle on about some genie in a bottle riddle type shit about how Joel supposedly feels about her and then say he ought to shut up before he says too much.
“I guess my point in saying all this, Ellie girl,” he continues, “is that y’all are mighty important to each other regardless of how you wanna label it and it ain’t gonna matter none whether you choose to do something tomorrow to recognize that or not. I know it won’t make no difference to Joel. Just you being here makes him happy.”
And then because he has to keep hitting her with bullshit that makes her want to cry again, he says, “you’re a gift all on your own, sweet pea, that I know my brother thanks his lucky stars for every day. You don’t gotta do nothing special.”
She’s been a lot of things in her life, gift has never been one of them, but this has been a season of firsts, of new experiences and crazy shit. Ellie supposes that she might as well add Tommy Miller calling her a gift to the list. Stranger things have happened.
“But if you’re itchin’ to do something,” he begins, and Jesus, doe he ever stop talking? “I reckon you could do a little ‘thanks for being Joel’ type ‘a thing, if the – ya know rest of it is too heavy to get into –” Well, duh, dude. “Don’t gotta make it a big deal, something you don’t wanna or ain’t, uh, ready for,” he stumbles over this part, and she narrows her eyes at him. “But I’m sure he’ll like whatever you do, even if that turns out to be nothing out of the ordinary. Could probably just tell him a bunch of your shitty puns, and he’d say it was the best damn day he ever had.”
Okay, Joel isn’t that fucking sentimental, she thinks.
She scoffs. “Yeah right, man.”
Tommy shakes his head. “Nah, I’m serious. He treats your puns like they’re liquid gold. How else do you think your little notes end up all over the fridge? That mushy fucker has some of them memorized, hording the notes you give him. If that ain’t love then I don’t know what is, kiddo.”
Her face flushes bright red at that.
Sensing that she isn’t ready for that big of a bombshell, he claps a hand against his thigh and starts to get to his feet, groaning as he shakes his limbs out a bit. “Shit, my legs are asleep, whew whee!” Just when she thinks he can’t get any more southern, he manages to prove her wrong.
Glancing down at her, he offers her his hand. “Don’t know ‘bout you but I could do with an egg salad sandwich right about now, and I make a mean one. Might swing by the house before we head on back to the stables. Don’t wanna have to tell my brother that I didn’t feed ya all day. He’d tan my hide. So whaddya say, kid?”
Hesitating a second, Ellie eyes him and the hand outstretched before reluctantly taking it and letting him pull her back to her feet. She pulls away immediately, shoving her hands into her jean pockets, and shrugging at him. In truth, the idea of a meatless lunch sounds pretty damn good to her, especially now that her appetite has returned.
He takes that as answer enough and gestures for her to go down the ladder first. “Lead the way then, Ellie girl.” They leave the treehouse together.
Her mind ruminates on his words for the rest of the day.
She actually really enjoys the egg salad sandwich, not that she tells Tommy that. His head is big enough as it is.
He does let her spend the afternoon exercising the horses who didn’t go on patrol. He even lets her ride Thunder, and even though she forgot to say thanks, she figures her smile probably said it well enough for her judging my look on Tommy’s face when they’d parted ways.
And when Joel asks her how her day was at dinner that night, she tells him it went okay and actually means it. Maybe for the first time in forever. And well, if he teases her a bit for being a horse girl, she allows it – just this once.
She carefully doesn’t analyze the fact that she sleeps halfway decent for a change, not sneaking into Joel’s bed until the early hours of the morning before sunrise. Or the fact that he seems to sense her presence because he scoots over without ever really waking up.
He rolls over onto his side, and she presses her head against the middle of his back, letting the feeling of his breath and the sound of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.
…
Ellie wakes with a game plan on Sunday morning.
She slips out of Joel’s room and back to her own without waking him, washes up in the bathroom and changes into jeans and a long sleeved shirt she just knows she’ll probably boil in before the summer day is over.
Armed with the list she’d jotted down the night before, Ellie makes her way downstairs to the kitchen where she starts with the first part of her perfectly simple plan, making Joel’s chicory coffee and slicing up some of the fruit he likes. She’s made the unanimous decision that less is more and that doing anything too out of the ordinary would only draw more attention to her and to the significance of the day she’s already decided she won’t be directly acknowledging.
She’ll be subtle. She can totally do subtle. Abso-fucking-lutely. Piece of cake.
Sundays are normally pretty chill for them.
Neither of them typically have work shifts, this day wholly recognized by the town as a time to spend with family and friends. For her and Joel this might mean watching movies or playing board games, maybe dinner with Tommy and Maria or an evening out on the porch with a guitar.
And the first couple of weeks in Jackson, Sundays were for house cleaning and fixing up the place they’d be living in for the foreseeable future. Those days weren’t always her favorite, but she appreciated Joel helping her strip the wallpaper in her room and repainting it a color she could actually live with, and resolving to find some materials to build her a shelf for her books and the knickknacks she’d horded since their days on the road.
But today in particular, she’s resolved to stay out of the way as much as possible and give Joel his space, already guessing that he’ll probably want to spend his day with Tommy. Or he’ll want to keep busy and work on one of his many projects. She doesn’t expect any of his plans to include her and that’s okay. She can give him this if he needs it.
Resigned to a day on her own, she scarfs down a piece of toast and some slices of pear and leaves a note next to the percolating coffee that she’ll be at the greenhouses if he needs her, and then she leaves the house before she can change her mind.
...
Perhaps, she should’ve expected that he’d come find her. Or that her sudden obsession with giving him space might have set off enough alarm bells to have him worried that something has happened.
Because he does show up in the entryway of the greenhouse barely twenty minutes after she’s left the house, shoulder leaning against the doorframe, hands perched on his hips, gaze admiring her with that familiar wrinkle between his brows. The set of his mouth going more towards frown than smile. Always so worried.
“Hey,” he rumbles out, jaw working. “Everything okay, kiddo?” Always one of his first questions whenever he suspects something is wrong. “You don’t normally leave the house before I get up.” Neither of them are morning people except for when they had to be on the road. So, leaving early is an alarm bell in of itself.
“Yeah, everything is cool,” she assures him, pausing in her trimming to swipe at the sweat that’s already gathered across her forehead. “Just felt like getting out of the house and getting an early start is all.”
“Hm,” he grunts, chewing on his lip as he surveys her through narrowed eyes. “Sure it don’t got anything to do with you thinking I need space?” The question is spoken carefully but deliberately.
Ellie freezes at this, eyes going wide and jaw going slack. “Um, I’m not sure why you would – ” before she can finish, he’s raising his hand up so she can see the folded scrap of paper between his fingers, and it’s definitely not the note she left by the coffee maker.
Shit, it’s the list she made last night.
Make sure Joel has a good day:
Ideas?
Make his coffee and slice up his favorite fruits
Ask Tommy to take him out hunting / brother bonding shit? Idk
Do the laundry before he can get to it (for once)
Patch up his favorite shirt (the one I tore on accident)
Trade for that apple pie he likes (Laura makes the best)
Take care of Thunder (horse means a lot to him)
Give him his space, I’m always fucking under foot. 🙁
Don’t let him worry about me.
Fucking hell. Shit, shit, shit, double shit – Ellie panics internally as she stares at him staring at her, waiting for her to explain the note.
“That’s uh – yeah you weren’t supposed to see that,” she finally manages to squeak out, blushing hard enough she can feel the heat in her cheeks. “It’s – it’s just a stupid note. It’s nothing. Totally forget you saw that okay –”
“Ellie,” Joel says, somehow both soft and firm, tentative and maybe a little coaxing, gentle like he’s afraid of spooking her. “This don’t look like nothing. There a particular reason you wanted to make sure I had a good day today?”
There’s no world in which she admits the significance of why the hell she’s doing this. Especially not if he hasn’t already figured it out. If he has no idea what day it is, she’s definitely not going to be the one to point it out.
“Do I need a reason to make sure you have a good day, dude?” she asks, trying to play it off but judging by the severe look on his face it’s not working.
“No,” he murmurs, “’course not, honey.” And he just had to hit her with that name didn’t he? Her fucking kryptonite.
He tilts his head and squints his eyes thoughtfully. “But what I’m tryna figure out is why you think my idea of a good day wouldn’t include you.”
How the heck is she going to explain it? That she feels like her presence might do more harm than good, especially on a day like today. She wants to make things easier for him, not harder, and she’s been told all her life that she isn’t easy. Why would now be any different? Plus, she thought he might enjoy a day without a nosy kid hanging around. Give him a chance to do something besides worry about her.
“’Cause I can tell ya right now there ain’t no good day, kiddo, that don’t include you,” Joel informs her, voice low and solemnly sincere.
At that declaration she can’t even pretend to still be watering the fucking plants. Not when he’s gonna say shit like that as if it’s normal. As if he's not casually wrecking her. Between Joel and Tommy saying deep as fuck stuff to her out of the blue and she’s supposed to just carry on?
Joel steps further into the greenhouse, scrap of paper still held loosely in his hand. He must be able to tell that she doesn’t really know what the fuck to say because he clears his throat and says, “Big deal or not, I’d like to talk about the note, Ellie.” She pulls off the gardening gloves and tosses them down onto the table beside her in favor of folding her arms across her chest and hugging herself.
“Why?” she mumbles, shrugging. “I told you it didn’t mean anything, dude.”
“Maybe so, kiddo, but I – uh – wanna clear something up about some of what you wrote,” Joel continues, perhaps a little awkwardly in her opinion.
Her brow furrows. “What? You don’t like apple pie?”
His lips quirk at that and he shakes his head, expression sobering quickly as he rubs a hand along the back of his neck before shoving it into his front pocket.
Her own eyes widen. “Shit, is this about the shirt I ripped? I swear, man, that was accident and I’m totally gonna fix it. I know you fucking love that shirt and I shouldn’t have even taken it out of your closet –”
“Baby,” he breaks across her, gently. “I ain’t worried about the shirt. You know I don’t mind you rifling through my shit.” He used to care about that. She’s not sure exactly what changed, other than literally everything. “What’s mine is yours, you know that. That ain’t what I’m talking about.”
She kind of wishes he’d just spit it out already because he’s starting to make her a little nervous. Ellie wishes he’d just tell her what she did wrong so she can try and fix it.
“You ain’t underfoot, Ellie,” he murmurs, eyes fierce. “I’ve never needed space from you. Not once. Not one damn time, okay? I’m – I’m sorry if I ever gave you a different impression. I know I ain’t always in the best mood,” he allows, speaking slow and deliberate. “But I promise that ain’t got nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”
Well, he can be super grumpy sometimes, but no different than the way she can be kind of an asshole.
“Even when I’m being annoying and talking your ear off and shit? You never want like a break from me?” she checks, kind of joking but also mostly serious.
He snorts, shaking his head at her. “No, kiddo, even when you talk my ear off ‘bout stuff I can’t make heads or tails of, I’d never get tired of you.” Cheek twitching, he purses his lips. “But if it’s space you’re needing, all ya gotta do is say that I’m cramping your style and I’ll back off… or do my best anyway. It’s hard breaking habits. I’m – used to having my eyes on you, making sure you’re okay and,” he stops, clears his throat and looks away for a second. “It ain’t ,uh, easy leaving your safety to someone else, even in a place like this.”
He glances back to her again. “But I’m – I can work on it if I’m smothering you, kiddo.”
Shit, she’s somehow made him feel like this is his fault. Like he has to feel bad for taking care of her. No one looks out for her like he does. No one cares for her this much.
“You’re not smothering me,” she insists quickly, voice pitching higher. “I just know that you worry about me like a ton and you spend all your time making sure that I’m okay and taking care of me and I know I’m a lot to handle. So, I figured you’d want a break.”
Joel’s eyes narrow and he’s frowning again which probably isn’t good. “You aren’t a lot to handle, far from it, baby. You’re the – the best part of my –” His throat works.
“Day?” she tries tentatively when he doesn’t finish, hoping she doesn’t sound so… well, hopeful.
“Life,” he says roughly, voice catching. “You’re the best part of my life, honey, and it’s my job to look after you and it gives me no greater joy in the world. I know I ain’t good with my words but I need you to know that I want to take care of you, worry about you, and asking me not to – is like – it’s like asking water not to be wet. Just ain’t possible.”
“I know you didn’t mean for me to see this note,” he says, nodding down at the paper. “But I’m glad I did.”
The note that almost ruined everything. He could’ve easily figured out why she wrote it. He could still figure it out, but she hopes he won’t call her on it. That maybe he can just let this be without giving it a name.
His mouth twitches into a small smile. “I say we go check some of these things off this list and maybe… add a couple more if I’m gonna be having the best day ever.” The skin by his eyes crinkles as he moves to her, holding out the slip of paper for her. Arching a brow when all she does is blink at him.
Ellie takes it with slightly shaky hands, unfolding it to peer down at her own writing, surprised to see some stuff scribbled out and a line or two added. It’s Joel’s handwriting. Her heart beats faster at the sight, confusion, dread and hope warring for dominance in her stomach.
Hang out with my kid.
Tell Ellie what she means to me (find the words)
The words on the page blur before her, and she has to swallow several times to avoid doing something embarrassing like fucking crying in front of another Miller.
“I was thinking though that maybe I could take a raincheck on that possible hunting trip with my brother and spend the day with my kid instead,” he says, expression softening further as he chuckles a bit and winks at her. “I happen to like her company a whole better anyway.”
Even months later, she still has trouble getting used to his teasing, light-hearted side. When he’s not being a grumpy old man, he’s actually kind of funny. Not that she’d ever tell him that in a million years. And if he wants to use his humor to diffuse this way too fucking emotional moment, she’s absolutely going to let him. There’s already been way too much shit for her to try and puzzle out.
She blows out a breath, folds up the note and slips it into her pocket. “Okay, cool, as long as laundry isn’t the first thing we’re doing because that shit is not fun.”
“Laundry don’t gotta be on the list at all, kiddo,” he tells her, ruefully. “We can do whatever you want.”
“The idea is we’re supposed to be doing whatever you want, dude, not me,” she tells him before she can think better of it, her eyes going huge when his face screws up with confusion and clear surprise. Okay, maybe shouldn’t have sounded quite so aggressive about it.
She fumbles to save it because she can see the questions forming on his mouth. “Um, for absolutely no particular reason whatsoever other than we always do what I wanna do. Let’s do something that you find cool or whatever for a change.”
He's still watching her with a fair amount of suspicion now, dark eyes tracking over her face for a long moment before he seems to decide something.
“Well, then, I think we oughta take Thunder out for a while, give ‘im some exercise, maybe make a day of it?” he asks, that smile settling once more on his face, the one that reaches his eyes and makes her feel warm inside. She loves when he looks happy. Relaxed.
When she hesitates, he adds, meaningfully, “Since I love that horse so much.” Something about his demeanor tells her he doesn’t mean the horse, but she’s not brave enough to ask.
Instead, she’s settles on, “sure, dude, if that’s what you want.”
“It is,” he confirms, and then. “You ever had pie for dinner?”
“No.” Before Jackson, she’d never even had pie.
“Well, we’re going to tonight,” Joel decides, raising his arm, he gestures at her. “Now, c’mon, quit your fake gardening. If we wanna get everything on this list done, we better get going.”
“It’s not fake gardening, asshole,” she says, sounding way too fucking happy, relieved that he’s going along with this without asking too many questions. “I happen to have quite the – what do you call it?”
“Green thumb,” he supplies, amused.
“Yeah, that.”
She steps into his personal space, tucking herself under the arm he rests over her shoulders.
“You can come back to your gardening, green thumb. Right now, I wanna hang out with my kid and we’re wasting daylight,” he says, hand squeezing her shoulder, playful.
She pretends to be annoyed by his sudden need to rush her out of there, but she knows he’s not buying it for a single second, judging by the matching smiles on both of their faces. The kiss he presses to the crown of her head, the way she knocks her forehead into his collarbone.
Maybe he’s right. A day spent together would be the best.
…