Archive of Our Own

Natalie eight years ago would probably be baffled and disappointed by where she is now. Natalie seven years and three months ago would probably have a much better understanding of how she got here. Dare she say that that Nat, freshly postpartum and having no idea where her life was going beyond a baby at nineteen, might even be impressed.

Sometimes parents at the playground, with judgmental tones as they took in Nat’s age, haircut, dark makeup, and piercings, would ask if Lisa was planned. Nat would have to try really hard not to laugh, to say, “Fucking obviously not.” Because, sure, they were assholes, but to say Lisa wasn’t planned was reductive. She wasn’t, of course, because who plans to have a baby at nineteen with no husband and no prospects? But there was always an unspoken implication from those snooty parents at the playground. A sense of, do you really love your daughter? Do you take good care of her?

And for that reason, Natalie never answered the question. To say to those adults, who were all at least ten years older than she was, that Lisa wasn’t planned, was to say she was a failure as a parent. It’s not that Nat thinks she’s some perfect mother, that she’s cracked the code to parenthood, or whatever, but. She doesn’t feel like she deserves the disdain, either. She got clean for her kid, which she thought during pregnancy would be the hardest thing she ever did for her daughter. Then Lisa was born, and she was eight pounds and two ounces and twenty-one inches long, and then the hardest thing she’d ever done was get through the night with her screaming, collichy daughter.

The nurses gushed over her in the hospital, asking if her father was tall, “Since she’s a little long,” the woman had said, no more than thirty but seeming so incredibly grown up to nineteen-year-old Nat. Natalie had softly admitted that yes, he was tall, and all the nurses kindly pretended not to notice her crying while she looked down at her sleeping daughter, and none of them ever uttered another word about Lisa’s father.

Truthfully, Natalie never told him. He’d been a photographer, so young and full of talent, with bright eyes–Lisa’s eyes–and dark hair–Lisa’s hair is a medium shade of brown, a blend of Natalie’s childhood blonde and his, but her hair is so thick, Nat feels his hair when she runs her hand through her daughter’s hair. More than anything else, he’d been kind, and he seemed to really like Natalie as she was. He didn’t just want her to take her to bed, although, obviously, they’d done it.

As much as she secretly cared for him, Nat knew it was never built to last. She had spent most of high school quietly wondering about the popular-adjacent outcast–almost popular for his family's wealth, outcast for his quiet demeanor–but they’d only really gotten to know each other over the summer right after they graduated high school. It was a miracle Natalie walked the stage at all, but Matthews was full of potential, committed to a prodigious arts school to study photography in the fall. Far away from New Jersey, all the way across the country in California.

It didn’t feel like a fling. It felt more intimate, and real, but, effectively, that’s what it was. He left when the end of August came and Natalie was sad, but she had a job at a coffee shop in town and her and Van were renting their own place, and, all things considered, life was good. Until October rolled around and two lines were staring up at her on a plastic stick, and Natalie’s entire vague image of her future fell apart.

It was his. They hadn’t ever had any conversations about exclusivity, but Nat hadn’t wanted anyone else as long as she could have him, and she knew he felt the same way.

She told Van. Cried. Made an appointment with planned parenthood, confirmed it. Pregnant. Eighteen. Not even a year out of high school. She planned to make another appointment, an abortion. Natalie dragged her feet about making that second appointment. In theory, it was simple. No baby daddy, barely any money, low prospects. 

Still. She kept picturing it. A child. With her lips, his bright eyes. It felt like something she wasn’t allowed to want, a childish dream she couldn’t possibly afford. No one would be shocked that trailer trash Natalie Scatorccio was pregnant and single at eighteen. Hell, she knew there had been gasps of surprise when her name was called at graduation. She would only be able to defy expectations for so long. It was a miracle she earned enough with her and Van’s combined income to rent their tiny, shitty apartment. She never thought she’d live anywhere but that trailer, for a long time, hadn’t expected to make it to graduation.

But she’s here. Graduated, working full time at the coffee shop, making fourteen dollars an hour plus tips. And a small, stubborn part of her wants it. A baby. A child. Someone that she created, someone she can love unconditionally the way her parents never did with her. Something that stays on the earth after she’s gone. Everyone expects her to pop out a few kids, and for them to turn out exactly like she did, or worse.

But what if she could do better? Be better for her child, raise them to be kind, and strong.

Van could tell. One night, looking at the calendar and the planned parenthood website, the sixth attempt on the sixth straight night to make the appointment, they gently offered, “I can think of worse roommates than a baby.”

Natalie had cried in their arms right then and there. It was more complicated than that, but, at the same time, it wasn’t.

She thought, at first, she might see him over winter break. She’d discovered that the phone number he left didn’t work anymore long before she’d discovered the pregnancy, and she didn’t know any friends of his she could call. After a while, she thought maybe it was better this way. They were still teenagers, after all, maybe he didn’t want the baby. Or, worse, maybe he did want the baby, and with her drug history, Natalie could imagine a court siding with him, his clean wealth.

She gives birth to Lisa on June 3rd, 2008, and she’s the most incredible thing Natalie’s ever laid eyes on, and she leaves a blank space where the father’s signature should be on her birth certificate.

She gets a lot of stares in town, at first people ogle her stomach, then the small bundle carefully wrapped around her mid-section. When she spies none other than Jackie Taylor in the grocery store, buying diapers and eggs, Lisa sleeping against her chest in her wrap, Nat wants nothing more than to be invisible. Sure, she’d been friendly with Jackie while they were on the soccer team together, but they hadn’t really hung out one on one, and Natalie had always assumed that Jackie was kind to Nat’s face while whispering behind her back, as most did if she was lucky. Jackie has no reason to maintain her facade now, graduated from school and one year of college under her belt while Nat has already fulfilled her role of town disappointment.

She notices Natalie, of course she does, but she looks different than Nat expected her to when their eyes meet in the dairy aisle. Recognition, first, but then–excitement? Happiness? Nat was expecting more shock, more judgment. But Jackie gasps next to the half-and-half, abandoning her cart and walking over to Nat.

“Natalie! It’s so good to see you.”

“Hey, Jackie.”

Jackie’s eyes drift down to the wrap, the top of Lisa’s head barely peeking out, just a little tuft of brown hair. Her eyes soften, smiling, and Jackie always did love babies, maybe this won’t be as awful as Nat expected.

“And who’s this?”

“Lisa,” Nat admits, smiling despite herself as she looks down at her daughter. “She’s sleeping, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” and Jackie really doesn’t seem like she minds, just smiling, entranced by the little spark of hair. She tears her gaze away and tilts her head, eyes landing, strangely, back on Nat. “How are you doing?”

Oh. She’d sort of expected that to be the end of the interaction. Cute baby greeted, did Jackie really want to keep talking?

“I’m fine.”

Jackie raises an eyebrow. “How old is she? A month?”

“Two,” Nat says, a weak argument, defenses breaking down, shocked how invested Jackie seems in her wellbeing.

“Are you sleeping?”

“A little. When I can.”

Jackie looks her up and down, and Nat’s seen better days, she knows it, she knows her eyebags are giving her away, but would Jackie just give it up? She must have a million better things to be doing like, for example, grocery shopping.

Jackie lifts her chin, seeming to have come to some secret conclusion. “Do you have any plans after this?”

Nat fights her about it all the way through check-out as Jackie takes another box of diapers and insists on paying for everything in Nat’s cart, loading it all into her car.

“Do you have a car seat?” she asks softly when Nat gets into the passenger seat with Lisa still wrapped against her chest.

Nat looks down at the floor, shame rolled in her gut. “I don’t have a car. We usually just walk everywhere…”

Jackie drives ten below the speed limit on the short ride to Nat’s apartment, insisting on carrying all the groceries up to the second floor. Van is baffled when Jackie Taylor bursts into their apartment, humming as she puts away the groceries and taking it upon herself to wash the dishes. Nat can only shrug, sitting on their cheap couch they got off the side of the road. Van leaves for work as Jackie starts drying the dishes to put them away. Alone on the couch, Nat peeks down at Lisa. She’s starting to wake up, snuffling against Nat’s sternum, little fists wiggling against their conjoined bodies.

Nat undoes the wrap, scooping Lisa out of it, murmuring words of comfort as she discards the wrap and cradles Lisa against her chest. Lisa’s whining, rooting against Nat’s shirt. Nat stands as she starts to cry, not wanting to make Jackie uncomfortable by exposing herself.

But when she looks over to the sink to excuse herself, Jackie’s already watching her with this strange, soft look on her face. Nat clears her throat, Lisa’s still crying and she knows she won’t stop until she’s fed.

“I’m gonna go to my room, nurse her.”

Jackie nods, blinking, snapping herself out of it. “Right. Sure.”

It’s quiet and dark in Nat’s bedroom. She puts Lisa momentarily in her small crib beside Nat’s bed to take off her shirt and bra, the baby crying harder without being held. Nat scoops her back up, leading her to her breast. It was difficult at first, but they’ve reached a rhythm with breastfeeding. Lisa moves her little head around, crying out for food, quickly finding Nat’s nipple and latching on. 

Her tears quickly stop as she drinks, feeding for a few minutes before she lets go. Nat takes a moment to appreciate the big brown eyes gazing up at her with all of the love and trust in the world before she shifts her hold on Lisa to burp her, patting her back.

She tries for a moment to put Lisa in her crib once she’s done, but the baby starts fussing immediately, so Nat cradles her and goes back to the living room, where Jackie’s found a broom and is sweeping the floor.

“God, Jackie, you… Thank you, but you don’t have to do all this.”

Jackie looks up from the broom, grinning, putting it aside. “I don’t mind!” Her eyes linger on Lisa.

Nat weighs her options in her mind, looks back on the afternoon, everything Jackie’s done for her with nothing being asked in return.

“Are you up to date on your vaccinations?”

Jackie blinks. “Yeah? Why?”

“Wash your hands.” Nat smiles at the confusion written on Jackie’s face. “Want to hold her?”

Jackie zips to the kitchen, washing her hands thoroughly and drying them, beaming as she returns to Nat.

“Sit.” Jackie does without complaint, holding out her hands hopefully. “You’ve held a baby before, right?”

“Yes! I’ve been babysitting for years, I know to support the head and stuff.”

It’s more than Nat knew before she started checking out baby books from the library. Good enough for her.

“She can be a little fussy when she’s not with me,” Nat mutters preemptively, just in case Lisa starts losing her shit as Nat transfers her to Jackie’s waiting arms, but she doesn’t seem to mind Jackie. Lisa looks up at her, arms waving around, babbling, perfectly content.

Jackie laughs softly, adjusting Lisa so she can offer her a finger. Lisa grabs on, holding tight, making a sound of victory. When she looks up, Nat’s startled to see tears in Jackie’s eyes.

“Natalie, she’s precious.”

Nat’s lips twitch in a smile. “Thanks, Jackie.”

“I mean, I have babysat some seriously ugly babies, but she’s adorable.”

Nat laughs. “Thanks.”

The conversation lulls, Nat watching as Jackie rocks Lisa, speaking to her quietly, telling her stories of their high school soccer career. Nat’s used to Lisa fussing if Nat is nearby but not holding her, so she doesn’t mind just observing, sinking further and further into the couch, blinks lengthening, breath slowing down. Her sleepiness mimics Lisa’s, the baby slowly but surely falling asleep in Jackie’s arms. Jackie finishes the story of how they almost made it to nationals and looks up at Nat, pursing her lips.

“Nat… You could get some sleep, if you want.”

Natalie shakes her head, sitting up straight, trying to will herself to be awake. “No, it’s okay. I don’t have formula, and I haven’t pumped recently, she’ll be hungry.”

“She just ate half an hour ago. She’s asleep. You could probably sleep for at least an hour before she gets hungry again.”

Nat swallows, watching Lisa sleep in Jackie’s arms. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Please, Nat, I… I want to help you. If that’s okay. You don’t even have to go to your room if you don’t want to leave her. We can just stay like this.”

Nat watches Lisa, sound asleep, curled safe and tight in Jackie’s arms. Content. She felt so safe with Jackie that she fell asleep without even crying.

“Okay. Okay.”

“Okay?”

Nat leans back on the couch, curling up, eyelids heavy. “Okay. Just… Wake me up if she needs me?”

“Of course.”

Nat nods, eyes shutting, sleep pounding in her head, fighting to murmur, “Thank you,” before she’s gone.

She sleeps for two hours that afternoon before Jackie wakes her to feed Lisa. She’s in a fresh diaper, and other than being hungry she’s perfectly fine. Nat thanks Jackie profusely as she goes, and it’s the best sleep she’s gotten since she found out she was pregnant, and she assumes it was a nice one-time thing.

Then, a few days later, a car seat shows up outside their door. Jackie throws Nat a small, belated baby shower. It’s just them, Van, and Shauna from soccer, who Nat hasn’t seen since graduation, but she knows Jackie and Shauna were best friends. Shauna gives Nat a pink highchair and a few pretty dresses for Lisa to grow into, and she smiles like she means it, and Nat doesn’t mind that she came.

She had always heard that raising kids took a village. Nat just hadn’t ever imagined her village would be any bigger than her, and Van if she was lucky. But Jackie sticks around, and Shauna comes around with her, and they babysit while Nat works and whenever she gets back from a shift there’s mysteriously more food in the cabinets than when she left, and Shauna builds the highchair she bought herself, and a bigger crib for Lisa when she outgrows her little bedside one, and when Lisa says her first word Van cries, and Nat never imagined that she would come out of having a baby with more friends than she had before.

It’s not like it completely fills the space of a father, particularly as Lisa gets a little older and starts making friends, most of whom have a mommy and a daddy. She asks about him, and Natalie has no idea what to tell her. She has all the love in the world, but she doesn’t have a daddy, is that a failing on Nat’s part? She explains in simple words, tells Lisa her father was a good man, but he had to move far away. She accepts it easily, she believes everything Nat tells her so readily it scares her sometimes.

It slips through the cracks in other ways, sometimes. Lisa asks one day, at four years old, “Mommy? How come my skin's browner than yours?” and Nat wishes she had a better answer.

“Because your father’s skin was brown, Lise,” is her best offering, and Lisa lights up at the answer, she loves talking about her photographer Los Angeles daddy, always asking to see their ‘family picture.’ He’s not even in it, the photographer that he was, he was the one who took it; Nat lounging at a picnic table, laughing. It was late August, Nat can remember that day, that exact moment. It was so close to the day he left that she knows now, she was most likely pregnant in the picture. So when Lisa asked to see him she pulled out the photo, explained who took it, pointed at her stomach and told Lisa she was in it, too.

It’s the only picture she has of his, funnily enough.

Natalie wishes she could give Lisa more. They’d never discussed their ancestry, in their three short months he’d never mentioned his heritage, and Natalie had never thought to ask. She hadn’t anticipated having an eager three-year-old with endless questions.

For five years, Nat saves every penny she can and spends it all on Lisa. She works when the baby sleeps and thanks her friends profusely for watching Lisa while she works. Lisa’s a happy kid, very fond of Van and her aunts, Jackie and Shauna. They’re all on Lisa’s daycare pick-up list, they’re Nat’s emergency contact, they love her and Lisa, and Nat loves them. 

Lisa starts kindergarten in the fall, and Nat’s pretty sure it’s a bigger deal to her than it is to Lisa. And, that fall, the unthinkable happens. Frank, the owner of the coffee shop she’s been working at since high school, retires. Not just that, though, he gives the building to Natalie. He tears up explaining it to her, childless himself, saying he wants the building to stay a coffee shop and he can’t think of anyone better to give it to. Natalie cries as she accepts it, holding the same set of keys she’s had since she earned her opening privileges in junior year of high school, but now they’re really hers, and for the first time she can picture a future when she can put Lisa through college.

Before Frank bought the building and opened the Wiskayok Coffee Shop, it had been a bar. Nat had always been curious about that history, but it's hard to run a bar with a kid, mostly due to the late hours. Still. She works it out in time. Gradually. Especially with a bar tender for a best friend and roommate, Van is eager to help.

It’s harder than she imagined, of course, and more expensive to maintain than she’d expected, but she finds a flow. Hires Van, slowly works out the bar aspect. It’s expensive to buy alcohol, but it sells well, and, to Nat’s surprise, locals seem to like it. Not that they didn’t before, she certainly kept busy as an employee, but she’d never worried about making enough money to keep the business afloat then, and after a rocky transition of ownership, she’s relieved to see a spike in customer attendance that gradually becomes the norm. Regulars who come in for the same thing every morning, people who smile when they see Lisa at her regular table on the weekends, taking interest in what she’s drawing today.

Nat blinks and she’s been running the coffee shop for two years, and somewhere along the way she started making enough money to start a college savings account, to buy a pair of shoes or a shirt for herself on occasion. Lisa’s fed, happy, and taken care of. She has plenty of toys and more art supplies than fit in their apartment–a new one, all to themselves, although Nat finds herself missing Van.

Lisa gets her artistic inclinations from her father, as she gets many other endearing qualities. Nat had always had a particular liking for art class, she was more likely to show up at school on days when she had art, but she'd never been so disillusioned to think she was rich or talented enough to take it anywhere.

“She looks a lot like him,” Van murmurs one day, both of them watching Lisa, holding Nat’s phone, squinting at the camera, taking a photo of a pretty flower, tongue poking out from between her teeth. He used to do that when he took pictures, too.

Nat bites the inside of her cheek, ignoring a pang in her chest. She doesn’t miss him. She can’t.

And yet.

Normally, Nat would probably make some quip about her own genes, although Lisa does resemble her quite a bit. It’s something about this moment, this expression. The act of taking a picture the exact same way he used to do it.

“Yeah,” Nat replies, watching her daughter with soft eyes. “She does.”

“He was a pretty good sperm donor,” Van says, turning the moment light-hearted, which might as well be their specialty. “Cute, nice, talented.”

Nat smiles, but her eyes stay on Lisa. How is he? He never wound up coming back to Wiskayok, not that Natalie blames him. But part of her had always been waiting to start hearing about him. He had been such a good photographer, unless it was the affection she had for him clouding her judgment. She looks up popular new photographers every now and again, waiting for his name to pop up. She’d gotten excited once, a year or so ago, seeing his last name, Matthews, on a list of up-and-coming LA photographers. They’d referred to each other by last name more than they did first name, some hint of the boys-soccer-vs.-girls-soccer rivalry they relied upon during their first hangouts. Then Nat had read the bullet point again and sank in disappointment. Lottie Matthews. 

Oh.

Oh, well. It’s not like it’s exactly an uncommon last name. Nat can only imagine how many Matthews’s live in a city like Los Angeles, completely unrelated.

Still, she couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.

Van seems to share the affinity for shared last names, showing up halfway through Nat’s morning shift at the coffee shop just to tell her about a strange customer from the night before.

“She's a lawyer, usually works out of New York. Anyway, she came in pretty late, said her boss had just passed away. And you know what his last name was?”

“What?” Nat asks, largely disinterested, preparing a drink order.

“Matthews.”

Nat starts, dropping her freshly made iced coffee. “Fuck.”

“Jesus, sorry.” Van steps behind the counter, grabbing paper towels.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll remake that for you right away,” Nat calls to the poor customer whose drink she just ruined. She crouches down beside Van with more paper towels, mopping up coffee. “Really?”

“Really. Do you think there’s any relation? Multiple Matthews families in a town our size? Doesn’t seem likely.”

“I don’t know. I don’t read the fuckin' yellow pages. I just know I don’t know any local Matthews anymore.”

“Could be his dad,” Van muses. “Maybe he’ll, like, come back to town for the funeral.”

Nat stands abruptly, panic drenching her at the thought. “And then what?” She picks up a cup and starts remaking the iced coffee, Van wincing, finishing the clean-up in silence.

What if he does come back? Will Nat even see him? What if he comes into the shop on a weekend? What if he sees Lisa? The similarities aren’t exactly subtle, Nat wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even need to ask. Would he be angry? Worse, would he not care at all? Would he demand some kind of custody agreement?

It’s too many things to wonder about all at once, too many disastrous possibilities, Nat’s head is spinning.

She closes the shop at two-forty-five to make it to second-grade pick-up at three, and Lisa runs into her arms like always, and Nat holds her longer than usual.

“I love you so much,” she murmurs, releasing her, holding Lisa’s hand as they start their walk home.

“I love you, Mommy,” Lisa replies, an automatic response, skipping along the sidewalk. “Can we get ice cream on the way home?”

Nat considers it. Normally she would say no, especially on a school night. But today, with the name Matthews running rampant in her head, she could use some ice cream.

“If we go to the park and do your homework and finish it, we can get ice cream. After we finish homework.”

Lisa’s only reply is celebration, cheering and skipping and singing made up songs about ice cream all the way to the park. She takes her homework out of her bag with minimal complaining, Nat keeps her on a regular schedule, namely, homework done before she can play, so ‘homework before ice cream’ isn’t a foreign concept.

Lisa orders birthday cake ice cream while Nat gets chocolate. She lets Lisa have a lick of her cone as they walk back home hand in hand, an old fear squeezing around her heart. What happens if he comes back?

Natalie begs Van to do something with Lisa during her working hours that weekend. Van agrees, clearly regretting telling Nat about the late Mr. Matthews who may or may not have anything to do with her Matthews. She doesn’t see him all weekend, so it was sort of pointless to keep Lisa away from the store, but she won’t stop gushing about the new Marvel movie Van took her to see, so it works out in the end.

+

It happens on a Tuesday, late morning. Lisa’s at school, Nat’s working by herself. Normally she keeps a minimum of two people working, but Mari called out last minute, and Tuesdays aren’t particularly busy days, just the morning and lunch rushes, but Nat's fine managing on her own for one day.

She hears the door open while she’s elbow-deep in a cabinet, digging out cups to restock. She straightens, cups in hand, turning to greet the customer, and stops dead in her tracks. It’s impolite to stare, but Natalie can’t help it, completely transfixed and confused by the person in front of her. She looks… Honestly, she looks exactly like Lisa. She looks exactly like Matthews, but… she. Skirt, long hair, ribbon tying the top half back, jewelry… Natalie tries not to assume people’s gender identities, but the person scanning their menu is undoubtedly feminine presenting. Did he have a sister Nat somehow never found out about?

Nat shakes off the strange sensation of familiarity, the staring they seem to either have not noticed or they don’t care, standing in front of the counter, laser-focused on the menu over Nat’s head.

“No rush, but I can help you whenever you’re ready, or I can answer any questions you might have about the menu.”

Now, it’s the customer’s turn to look surprised. They look down at her as Nat speaks, eyes widening and jaw dropping as they take her in.

“Natalie?”

Nat feels herself gaping back, a theory itching at the back of her mind but largely confused by what’s happening. “That’s me?”

The customer smiles wide, and Natalie knows that smile, those teeth, and it’s already starting to click into place, she’s not as surprised as she was a few moments ago when the customer says, “It’s me, um. Matthews. I go by Lottie now.”

Natalie can feel her smile wavering, her hands trembling behind the counter. She fights desperately to keep the smile, because Matthews is probably going to take her response as an indication that she’s fucking transphobic or something, but that is so far from the biggest problem on her mind, but Matthews–Lottie, she thinks to herself–really does look nervous, small, hopeful smile frozen on her face. Nat reminds herself again and again, she doesn’t know, so she goes around the counter to stand beside Lottie, looking up at her, and jesus her eyes are exactly the same, the same as Nat remembers and an identical copy to the very same pair she wakes up to every morning. Be fucking normal.

“It's good to see you.” And, scared as she is, Nat means it. As much as she pushed it down and ignored it, she'd missed Matthews when she went away for school. Part of her had always longed for Lisa to know her, to share her milestones. And besides, Lottie just looks happier now. There had always been a strangeness about Matthews, a discomfort in her skin. Nat had always chalked it up to teenagehood, to adjusting to the ways in which the body grows and changes, to becoming an adult. But she carries herself so differently now. So much lighter.

Her smile widens. “It's good to see you, too.”

Nat nods, still trying to smile, inching back towards the safety and distance being behind the counter will give her as reality sinks in. What the fuck is she going to do? Is Lottie here for a day? For the rest of her life? What is she going to tell her?

Her happiness at seeing Lottie is quickly fading into fear, and, maybe, Nat can almost admit, some jealousy. Resentment, maybe? It's not fair, not at all. But Lottie's smiling and waltzing back into Nat's life with no idea how severely she's shaking up Nat's entire life, how drastically she could change everything. It's not her fault, she doesn't know, but the more it sinks in, Nat can barely stand to look at her.

Lottie beams, clearly relieved by the positive response, eyes roaming over Nat’s shop T-shirt and apron, shoulder-length hair pulled up as much as she can. “You look good.”

Nat feels herself twitch, tries her very best to keep on smiling. “Thanks. Can I get you anything?”

“Oh. Right.” Lottie laughs, looking over the menu again before ordering a matcha which Natalie pretends requires every inch of her focus for the next five minutes. The store is painfully empty, no other customers arriving to ask anything of her, nothing to take attention away from Lottie.

“Matcha for Lottie,” Nat announces, even though she doesn’t really need to. She just thinks Lottie might like hearing it. Judging by the big grin she gets as Lottie walks up to take the drink, Nat’s pretty sure she was right. She folds her hands together to keep them from shaking, she keeps the smile plastered on her face to keep from crying.

“Thank you, Nat.” Lottie takes the drink, and Natalie keeps smiling through a stabbing feeling in her chest at the nickname, nodding as Lottie takes a sip and hums, pleased. “Ooh, that’s so good! You’re good at this.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s really good to see you.”

Nat swallows hard, fighting to keep her lower lip from trembling. “You too.”

Lottie ducks her head, smiling. She doesn’t go anywhere, just sipping her drink and looking around, but the silence is making it hard for Nat to keep it together, she blurts out, “So, what brings you back to town?” before she can overthink it.

Lottie’s smile dims slightly. “My, uh, my father passed away.”

If she weren’t having an internal crisis, Nat might be more surprised. So Van was right. “I’m so sorry.”

Lottie shrugs. “It’s okay. We weren’t very close. Mostly, I just need to get his affairs in order. He didn’t leave me his business, thank God, but his house and everything… He didn’t write me out of his will, as much as he threatened to.”

Nat wrinkles his nose, trying to be normal, trying to be conversational. What Lottie’s telling her is awful, she needs to get her shit together and be sympathetic. “That sucks, I’m sorry. At least you get some money, right? Are you still in California? That can’t be cheap.”

Lottie nods, although her expression is darkening. Now Nat thinks about it, Lottie’s family was wealthy, that was the only reason the popular kids tolerated her. She probably inherited quite a good deal of money.

“Yeah. Dad loved to hold the inheritance over my head. 'No son of his', or whatever.”

God. 

“Sounds like he had it coming.”

Lottie just stares at her for a moment, and she’s afraid she overstepped, or it’s like a ‘only I can make fun of him’ situation, but then Lottie’s laughing hard, bending over and slapping her knee, and if Nat weren’t so busy trying not to freak the fuck out, it might be nice.

“You’re the first person who hasn’t told me I should just be grateful I’m getting the money.”

“That’s bullshit.” That kind of money could change Lisa’s life. “You shouldn’t have to go through that, just for his money. That’s not what parents should do.”

“Yeah.” Lottie takes a sip of her matcha. “Thanks. Well, I should go. Meeting with a real estate agent.

Nat nods, backing away, feeling her body tremble as she waves. “It was good to see you.” The words taste fake and acidic on her tongue, feeling like the fifth time nearly identical words have come out. She means them less every time.

Lottie doesn’t seem to notice, grinning and saying, “It’s good to see you, too. See you around?”

Nat nods, robotic, watching, breath speeding up as Lottie grabs some napkins and goes, door jangling as the door opens and shuts. Nat rushes to the door after her, watching as she disappears down the block, flipping the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’ as soon as she’s around the corner.

She bolts herself in the bathroom, stomach heaving, leaning over the toilet, but nothing comes out, it’s just that she can’t breathe and her mouth is so dry and she can’t fucking breathe and she has to go pick Lisa up from school in a few hours and Lisa, and Lottie, and she’s fucked, she’s so, so incredibly fucked, and the world is fuzzy and spinning and she cannot fucking breathe for the life of her.

Nat leans over the sink, holding onto it for dear life, splashing water over her face and cupping it in her hands, chugging it down until she gags. 

Her legs are trembling too much to be trusted, so she sinks to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and crying until her throat is sore. She runs out of tears and stops shaking with time, bones aching as she tugs herself up and checks the time. One-thirty. That gives her enough time to shower and freshen up before she gets Lisa from school. Enough time to try and come up with some sort of plan.

She comes up with more tears in the shower. She used to cry in the shower because she missed Lottie, now she’s doing it because she has no idea what to do. What does Nat tell her? How does she tell her? She has to tell her, doesn’t she? This used to be all Nat wanted, for Lottie to come back so Nat could tell her. So Lisa could know her, if Lottie was willing. 

She just hadn’t imagined it would feel like this. So fucking scary. And Lottie’s rich. What is she going to say? Is she even going to care? What if she does try to take Lisa away? Surely it’ll be harder now, since Lisa’s older, and Nat’s doing better for herself. She won’t want to leave, most likely. But what if Lottie’s perfect, and Lisa loves her, and she never wants to see Nat again?

The thoughts keep coming, more and more outlandish, more and more hard to dispose herself of. She feels like a shell of a person by the time she’s tying her shoes to walk to the elementary school, and Lisa hugs her tight and Nat almost tears up again as she holds her whole world against her chest, little arms wrapped around her, a small hand held tightly in her grasp the whole walk home. Lisa babbles about her day at school the entire way, and Nat nods, trying to listen, and her daughter’s presence is better for her than anything else has been all day. Nat wants nothing more than to give Lisa her undivided attention, and that helps the most to ward off the thoughts. Only, she saw Lottie mere hours ago, and looking at Lisa now, Nat can see now more than ever all the ways in which Lisa resembles her. Scarier, the way she looks just like Nat. She’s theirs, she really, really is.

Nat orders pizza for dinner, and they eat on the couch watching TV, which they never do. Lisa colors after dinner, sketching away in her notebook while Nat stares at the wall.

“Mommy?”

Nat blinks, turning to look at Lisa sitting on the floor, poised with a colored pencil in hand, head tilted, watching Nat. “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you okay? You’re being a little weird.”

Natalie smiles, thoroughly endeared by how thoughtful Lisa is, leaning forward to ruffle her hair. “I’m fine, Lise. I just had a weird day. Thank you for checking, though, that’s very thoughtful.”

Lisa grins at the praise, looking down, fixing her hair. “Thanks." She looks up, shooting Nat a hopeful smile. "Wanna color with me?”

Nat's heart throbs.“Of course.”

+

The next day, Van walks into the shop at ten with a weird expression on their face.

“Hey,” they lean against the bar, looking at Nat like they’re asking a question, but Nat doesn’t know what it is. “Something happened last night.”

Nat wipes the counter with a rag, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She has a feeling she knows what Van’s about to tell her. “Here?” Van worked the bar last night.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?” Mari didn’t call out today, nothing to do at a lull in customers. She goes to college nearby, and she makes a good espresso, but she’s too damn nosy.

Nat looks back at her, arching an eyebrow, like, 'seriously?' Mari shrugs. “Mari, go take your break.”

“I’m okay, I don’t need to for an hour or so–”

“Break room. Go.”

Mari sighs, slumping to the break room. Nat turns back to Van, who’s smirking.

“I do like her.”

Nat rolls her eyes. “What happened?"

Van looks down at their hands, fingers tapping on the counter. “So. You know like a week ago, when I mentioned that woman who came in, about her client who died?”

Nat drops her forehead down onto the counter. Fuck. “Lottie was here?”

Van’s jaw drops. “You’ve seen her?”

“She came in yesterday morning.”

“Fuck, Nat, I’m sorry. I mean–there is so much going on there. Like, hello. Good for her.”

Nat nods against the counter, lifting her head and spraying the spot where she just face-planted with disinfectant and wiping it. She agrees with the general sentiment, and Lottie’s gender is just about the last part of her she’s worried about.

“Did you tell her?”

“Did I–you mean about Lisa? No, God no. I… It was weird, I felt like I should, but it’s not my place."

Nat nods, looking at the floor. “Thanks. How the fuck am I supposed to tell her?”

“I don’t know, Nat, but you probably should. I know you wanted to, back in the day, isn’t this kind of like, I dunno, a blessing in disguise?”

Natalie’s stomach is starting to hurt. The counter is clean, but she keeps wiping it anyway. “Maybe.”

“I mean, honestly, Nat, I don’t think it would be a disaster. The worst case scenario I can picture is, she doesn’t want to meet Lisa and she gives you a bunch of money to make up for the years without child support. She’s not a monster, and she talked a bunch last night about how parents should be better for their kids, so, I think she’d pay you if nothing else.” The door jingles as a customer walks in as Van continues. “I’m kinda happy for her. She looks good, you know?”

Nat looks to the door and feels her eyes go wide, clearing her throat desperately, but Van doesn’t notice, pushing on.

“Like, she’s become her true self. Plus, don’t be mad at me for saying this, please, but she got really hot. Like you were always attracted to her, obviously, and I can admit, objectively she was cute before, but now—”

“Lottie,” Nat says, loudly, as both a greeting and a means of telling Van to shut the fuck up. Van goes still, biting down on their lip, staring in disbelief at Nat. Lottie steps forward, an awkward smile on her face. Van never said Lottie’s name, but they weren’t exactly talking quietly, and with context, it’s kind of obvious they were talking about her.

“Hi,” she says, looking ready to bolt.

“Morning,” Nat nods, almost laughing at the look on Van’s face. She’s still scared shitless, but now that they’ve talked once before, and she’s had the night to process, and Van’s here, and they were kind of right about what they were saying before Lottie arrived… It’s a little less immediately daunting. “We were saying all good things about you, promise. Van wasn’t sure if I’d seen you since you got back.”

Van turns towards Lottie, apologetic smile on their face. “Hey, Lottie. Sorry you had to hear that."

Lottie grins awkwardly. “It’s okay. Helps that you were saying nice stuff about me.”

Van’s smile widens, nodding. “All true, though it’s embarrassing now that you’re in front of me.”

“Want a matcha?” Nat asks, hoping for Van’s sake to steer the conversation away from the topic. “On the house, since you caught us gossiping about you.”

“Yes, please, but I can pay for it. I heard from a little birdie you’re the owner, I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t pay.”

Nat eyes Van, starting to make the drink. They didn’t tell her about Lisa, but what did they say? Did they tell her how long it took Nat to get over her? That she hasn’t really dated anyone since, mostly because of Lisa, sure, but not entirely?

“If you insist,” Van says because Nat doesn’t say anything, and Nat nods, looking at Lottie and hoping her appreciation is clear in her eyes.

Lottie takes out her wallet. “I do.” She takes a twenty dollar bill out of her wallet and drops it in the tip jar. Van looks pointedly at Nat, likely some emphasis on their point about child support. Natalie feels as though she swallowed a brick.

“Thank you, Lottie, you don’t have to.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth Nat regrets them, because Lottie might say–

“I want to.”

Yeah. Just like Jackie did all those years ago. Fuck, Natalie really needs to tell her. Soon. It’s a small fucking town, someone will mention Lisa offhandedly to Lottie if she asks anyone about Nat, and she might not know, but she’ll probably wonder, and then she’ll ask, and Natalie won’t be able to lie, and–fuck.

Nat starts whisking Lottie’s drink and leaves the machine, grabbing a napkin and pen and scribbling down, can you take Lisa tn? on it and sliding it to Van as subtly as possible. Van accepts the napkin, baffled, but sees the question and subtly nods.

Fuck.

That’s exactly what she’d wanted, but now she really has to do it. Fuck fuck fuck. She goes back to the matcha, scooping ice into a cup and turning off the machine. She asks as she pours the tea, terrified of looking Lottie in the eyes as she listens. “So, Lottie, do you, uh. Are you busy tonight?”

There’s a pause, and Natalie nearly gives in and looks, but she’s too chicken, instead picking up the milk and pouring it in.

“No. No plans.”

Nat swallows hard. Fuck. She puts the lid on Lottie’s drink, forcing her eyes up. “Would you maybe wanna get dinner tonight?”

Lottie smiles. Big. Surprised? Happy? “I’d love that, actually. Thank you.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Okay. Okay, we can meet at Izzie’s on 5th and Carson St. at six?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Okay. Cool. You sure you want to pay for this?”

Lottie laughs. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Nat rings her up, mind drifting towards tonight, heart pounding in her chest. She’s so fucked.

She closes at three and goes straight home, arranging the timing so Van takes Lisa to the park after school. Nat showers and changes out of her work clothes, getting ready for dinner feeling like she’s getting ready for a date, but she never feels like she’s going to vomit like this the way she does before a date. Or, she never did, when she went on dates eight years ago. She asked Van to take Lisa to the park right after school because she knows if she sees Lisa she’ll recognize the outfit and makeup and know something is going on, and Natalie won’t be able to lie to her if she asks, but what the fuck could she possibly tell Lisa? Without knowing how Lottie’s going to react, Natalie would hate herself if she got Lisa’s hopes up if Lottie doesn’t end up wanting anything to do with her.

She walks to Izzie’s at 5:45, and she gets there at 5:55 and Lottie’s already waiting, and she smiles so wide when she sees Nat, and she’s wearing this dress, and Natalie feels as though she might pass out on the walk to their table for two.

Lottie grins at her shyly across the table, swirling a glass of red wine. “I’m really glad you asked me to do this, Nat.”

Natalie struggles to rip her gaze away from the menu. She’s not really reading it, she’s not really expecting to make it past appetizers if she can spit the words out, she just can’t bare to look at Lottie all dressed up and happy, terrified of how she’s going to look at Nat, what she’s going to think of her, once she knows.

“You don’t have to be nervous. We’re just two people getting dinner, right?”

“Right.” Natalie tries to swallow on a mouth so dry she feels like she’s swallowing sand. She lifts her water and drinks half the glass, and she doesn’t feel any better. “Lottie, I… I need to tell you–”

Their waiter returns to take their food orders. Lottie orders some seafood pasta. Natalie looks down at the menu and orders the first salad her eyes land on. Lottie smiles at her as the waiter takes their menus, and Natalie’s stomach flips.

“Lottie. I need to tell you something.”

Lottie hesitates. It could be her words, or maybe she’s too pale, or maybe she’s too pink. Nat can’t be sure what she looks like, but she wouldn’t be surprised if the internal imbalance she’s feeling was reflected in some way on her face.

Lottie smiles, kind of. A confused, worried thing. “Okay? What is it?”

“I… Um.” Nat shuts her eyes, looking down. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“If it’s that you’ve never been on a date with someone who's trans before, it’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Natalie’s eyes open. Date? Oh. Oh. of fucking course. She even worded it like she was asking Lottie out. Jesus, this is so fucked.

“It’s not that. I mean–I haven't, I guess, actually, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh.” Lottie’s eyebrows furrow as she looks Nat over. “Okay. Are you alright?”

Nat bites down on the inside of her cheek. “Fine. I’m sorry. It’s… It’s just a hard thing to say.”

Lottie arches an eyebrow. “Not very convincing.”

Just tell her. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Natalie.”

“I kind of do, actually. Fuck, I should have told you this seven years ago.”

Just tell her.

Natalie’s running a hand through her hair, and Lottie puts down her glass of wine, really looking at Nat, like she’s trying to read her mind.

“Okay, now I’m really worried.”

“It’s not… Fuck, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Say what?”

Just fucking tell her. “I have a kid.”

“Oh.” Lottie has the audacity to look relieved. Relieved. “I love kids, that’s not a deal-breaker for me."

Jesus.

“No, I mean, I… Lottie.”

Nat twists her hands in her lap, looking at Lottie helplessly, pleading, and she’s tilting her head, and it might be wishful thinking or Nat can see gears turning in Lottie’s head, and she’s probably deluding herself, but she’s half-convinced Lottie knows the words before they’re out of her mouth.

“We have a kid.”

Lottie goes completely still. She blinks a few times, but her eyes seem out of focus, like she isn’t looking anywhere in particular. Her voice is strange when she finally speaks, a weak, high pitch Natalie’s never heard from her before.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t know before you left, and I could never get into contact with you, and then you never came back, and I just never knew what to do, and–”

“Slow down.” Lottie’s gripping the edges of the table, the color drained from her face. “You’re telling me you–seven years ago?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing. Seven years ago?”

“Yes. She’s seven.”

Lottie’s eyes flicker back up. “She?”

Nat nods. Now that it’s out, she’s feeling a desire to tell Lottie everything about her, but she’s afraid Lottie doesn’t want to hear it.

Lottie’s eyes are wide, staring at Natalie. She’s trembling. “What’s her name?”

Tears are suddenly sprouting in Nat’s eyes even as she tries to blink them away. “Lisa.”

“Can I see her?”

Nat swipes at her eyes, pulling her phone out of her pocket and pulling up the photo Van sent her two hours ago, instructed to ‘say hi to Mommy’ at the park. She flips the screen towards Lottie, who takes it with shaking fingers. “That was her this afternoon.”

Lottie starts to cry as soon as she lays eyes on the photo, and Nat’s sure she’s taking her in, taking quiet inventory of everything the same way Nat does. Her hair, Lottie’s texture, a mix of their colors, although it’s getting darker as she gets older. Her eyes, all Lottie. Nat’s lips, her nose.

“She’s smart,” Nat offers. “And she’s always stealing my phone to take pictures.”

Lottie sniffles, still fixated on the picture, eyes wide like she’s afraid to blink, like she can’t get enough. “She’s so beautiful.”

“She asks about you,” Nat admits.

Now Lottie looks up at her, eyes going wide in fear. “What do you tell her?”

“I tell her that you had to go away to school. And that I wanted you to have a life. I tell her you’re a photographer, and an artist. I tell her you live far away, and you’re busy.”

The fear in Lottie’s eyes eases slightly, flicking from Nat to the picture and back. “That’s all? Nothing…?”

“Nothing bad. I don’t hate you, Lot. I never did.”

Lottie looks hard at the picture, then back at Natalie, eyebrow furrowing. “Why?”

Nat shrugs. “You didn’t know. I could’ve, um. You know. I thought about not having her. It wasn’t really your fault.”

“But you’ve been by yourself for seven years.”

“Not completely by myself. Van’s been here the whole time, and you might remember Jackie and Shauna, they’ve been incredible, too.”

“But I haven’t been here.”

“You didn’t know there was anywhere to be.”

Lottie sniffles, swiping at her eyes. “Fuck, Nat, can you even pretend to be mad at me so the anger I’m feeling at myself can be justified?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“How could you have told me? I’m sorry I never came home sooner.”

Nat shrugs, faced with Lottie's clear guilt she finds all hints of her own irritation evaporating. “You had no way of knowing.”

Lottie looks down at her lap. “I feel like I should have sensed it. Like I should have known somehow, deep down, that I needed to just come home.”

“Did you ever feel homesick?”

Lottie twists her hands, considering. “I guess I did, yeah. I was so excited to get away from my Dad I didn’t think I would, but I did.”

“Maybe that’s what your homesickness was.”

“You just don’t want me to feel bad about it.”

Nat tilts her head. “Maybe.” The hard part is over, but her body hasn’t completely caught up, still tense and anxious. “I know I’m not rich like your family, but I do want you to know that I always did my best for her. She’s comfortable, and healthy, and fed, and she has her shots and everything, and she’s so, so loved–”

“Nat.” Lottie’s hand closes over Nat’s on the table. “That’s not what I was worried about. I trust you.”

Natalie goes still. “Oh. Okay. Um. How… How long do you think you’ll be in town for?”

“Well the plan was for…” Lottie runs a hand through her hair as she thinks, frowning and turning back to Nat. “How long should I be in town?”

Nat chews on her lip, terrified to say the words on her tongue and knowing she’ll regret it if she doesn’t spit it out. “I think Lisa would love to meet you, to know you. We don’t need money, you don’t have to be a parent, but just to meet you–”

“I could meet her?” Lottie’s eyes are wide with hope, a smile already turning up her lips.

“Yes, of course, and I’m not saying you have to move here, or anything, but if we could exchange phone numbers, or something, so you don’t disappear if she ever wants to talk to you again–”

“Of course. Of course, I can give you my number right now, if she ever wants to see me and I’m not around I’d be more than happy to come visit, I…” Lottie trails off, beaming, eyes still shiny with tears, squeezing Nat’s hand. “Natalie, is this real?”

While their previous fling had been short-lived, neither of them had ever had any delusions about trying to do long-distance, or getting together again over winter break or the following summer. Lottie’s never lied to her, not then, and Natalie doesn’t think she’s lying now.

She squeezes Lottie’s hand, relief finally sinking into her bones. “It’s real, Lot. It’s real.”

Lottie flushes, ducking her head, and for a second Nat's afraid she's somehow said something to fuck it up, but—

"Lot?"

Nat freezes. She hadn't even really thought about the nickname, it had just sort of happened. "Yeah? I'm sorry, I didn't think about it, I can just call you Lottie—"

"No." Lottie looks up, vehement. "I mean, no, you don't have to. Please… Please keep calling me that."

Nat bites down on a smile, squeezing Lottie's hand still in hers. "Okay, Lot."

+

They set the meetup for the following day after Lisa’s school gets out. Lottie gives endearingly frequent updates on her whereabouts as the day goes on, informing Natalie as she leaves her hotel, several updated messages stating how far she is, and as she arrives at the ice cream parlor. 

Lisa runs up to Nat as her class is released, Natalie waving, calling, “Hi Bean!” Lisa collides into her with a huge hug as she does every day, a moment Nat cherishes, not knowing how soon Lisa’s going to become a 'big kid' and act all cool and chill at pick-up. “Did you have a good day at school?”

Lisa answers affirmatively, and starts what’s sure to be a minimum five minute recap of her day which Nat absolutely wants to hear, but first she needs to run the plan by her.

“Just one second, I want to hear all about your day, but can I ask you a question first?”

Lisa hesitates, recognizing the shift in their routine. She tilts her head.“Yeah?”

“Okay. How would you feel if, before we went home, we went to get ice cream with a friend of mine?”

Lisa’s eyes go wide at the prospect of ice cream and friends. “Van?”

“No, a new friend. You’ve never met her before.”

Lisa tilts her head in consideration. “What’s her name?”

“Her name is Lottie. She’s very nice, I think she might even let you get a waffle cone if you asked nicely.”

Lisa gasps and starts off in the direction of the ice cream shop, tugging Nat’s hand. “Okay! let’s go.”

Nat laughs and follows her daughter. “That’s settled. Now, what were you saying about your day?”

“Oh, right!” Lisa continues right where she left off, chattering about music class and recess all the way up until they reach the store. Nerves are clouding Nat’s mind once again, what if Lisa doesn’t like Lottie? What if Lottie’s somehow disappointed by her manners, her behavior, her personality? She could never be embarrassed by Lisa, but she’s suddenly terrified of how Lisa reflects Natalie’s own behavior and parenting. Fuck, what if she curses? That might be the best possible “bad” thing to happen, actually.

Besides, Lisa’s plowing right for the front door without slowing down, eager to get her chocolate chip cookie dough waffle cone, sharing none of Natalie’s anxiety about the meeting. That is one very distinct difference between mother and daughter. While Natalie’s a firm introvert, always keeping to herself, Lisa makes friends easily everywhere she goes, even charming adults on occasion. She thinks of that as the door jingles as they enter, Lisa first, surveying the small group of customers.

Lisa looks up expectantly at Nat, asking, “Where’s Lottie?” but Natalie already sees her, sitting at a table by the windows, eyes quickly honing in on Natalie, then their intertwined hands, and then the little girl standing beside her. Lisa. Nat’s daughter. Their daughter. Lottie’s, too.

If Lottie were standing, Natalie would be afraid she might fall over. She has a look unlike anything Nat’s ever seen before on her face, taking Lisa in slowly, as if trying to memorize every feature and micro-expression, her entire world narrowing to one little body. Natalie knows the feeling well.

“Mama?”

Nat looks down, finding Lisa looking up at her expectantly. Oh. Right. Her question had gone unanswered.

“Over there, sweetheart. By the windows. She’s watching us, she recognizes me.”

Lisa looks to the side, there are a few tables by the windows, but only one is occupied. “I see her.”

“Ready to go say hi?”

With the new face now real and in front of her, Lisa’s not quite as easygoing as she was earlier, but she nods, squeezing Nat’s hand for comfort.

“Okay. I’ll go first.” Natalie leads the way, weaving around the tables until they reach Lottie. “Hi. Lisa, this is Lottie. Lottie, this is Lisa.”

Lisa waves, grinning shyly. “Hi.”

Lottie’s beam is so wide it could slice open the moon. She bites back tears when she speaks. “Hi, Lisa. It is so incredible to meet you.” A tear slips down Lottie’s cheek that she quickly swipes away, but Lisa catches it, eyebrows furrowing.

“Are you sad?”

Nat tenses, preparing to jump in, but Lottie has it covered.

“No, I’m okay. You know happy tears?”

“Yeah!” Lisa grins, proud to know what Lottie’s referring to. “Like when Mommy watches Before Sunrise!”

Lottie’s eyes slide to Nat, grinning at the embarrassing information, but they quickly return to Lisa, taking her in. “Exactly. I’m just really happy to see you.”

Lisa nods. Her eyebrows are gently furrowed, likely wondering why Lottie's so happy, but, to Nat's relief she doesn't voice the question, instead looking back at the coolers. "Can we get ice cream now?"

Lottie laughs, smiling so, so wide. "Yeah, we can. You can get whatever you want, Lisa." Panic flashes over her expression and she looks at Nat. "That is, if you're Mom's okay with it. And if you're allergic to anything, of course—"

"I don't have any allergies," Lisa says factually, leading them to the counter. She turns her gaze hopefully to Natalie. "Can I get whatever I want?"

Nat eyes the guilty expression on Lottie's face and tries not to laugh. "Sure, Bean. Today's a special occasion."

Lisa beams, thanking her and turning back to the employee, eagerly reciting her order.

Soft skin nudges Nat's elbow. She turns her head, Lottie right beside her, voice quiet to evade Lisa. "You mean it? Special occasion?"

Nat smiles at her, and it feels different. The kind she hasn't used in years. "Yeah. Really special."

Lottie's smile widens, the kind Nat hasn't seen since the summer she graduated high school.

Ice cream goes wonderfully. Lisa gets an ice cream cone bigger than her head and gawks as Lottie deftly slips her card into the reader before Nat. Lottie tells Lisa she's a photographer, and Lisa squeals and insists Nat take out her phone to show Lottie her folder of photos Lisa's taken. Lottie really looks at them, giving her compliments and noticing things about the pictures, real, technical compliments, and Lisa's giddy, and Nat could swoon.

They part ways hours later, far longer than Nat imagined Lisa would want to sit there and talk. But It's Nat who eventually checks the time and gapes. They need to get home, Lisa needs to eat dinner, do her homework, she has her Girl Scout troop meeting…

"Can I see Lottie again?" Lisa asks over her bowl of mac'n'cheese.

Nat's fork pauses over her own dinner. An identical text is sitting on her phone, from Lottie.

Can I see her again?

Nat grins. "Yeah, sweetheart. I think she would like that."

They meet up at the park. Nat pushes Lisa on the swings, then Lisa asks Lottie to do it, and Nat tries not to show how much her heart is soaring as Lottie happily agrees, making Lisa laugh as she pushes her higher and higher.

Soon, Lisa asks to see Lottie more than she asks to see her friends. She gets an invitation to a classmate's birthday party and turns it down because she's supposed to go see a movie with Lottie that day.

+

"Mama," Lisa says quietly, eyes still on her drawing.

Nat looks up from the sheet of paper Lisa insisted she take, capping her own marker. "Yes?"

"Did you know Lucy doesn't have a daddy either?"

Lucy is another kid in Lisa's class. Her family moved into town halfway through the year. Lisa's been getting to know her, and it's been seeming like they're becoming friends. And Nat does know, Lucy's parents have been at art shows and music concerts and PTA meetings.

"Yeah, her Moms are really nice."

"Yeah." Lisa peeks up from her drawing. She nudges her paper towards Nat. "Lookit my drawing."

Nat slides the paper closer. "Oh, it's beautiful—" her words get caught in her throat as the ink sets in. It's a drawing of people, one of Lisa's favorite subjects. The first Natalie is fairly confident in identifying as herself. The hair, clothes, eyes, all line up with the way Lisa usually draws her. The third figure is Lisa, Nat recognizes her daughter's self portraits when she sees one. The second… "Is that Lottie?"

Lisa nods, grinning, pleased Nat recognized her.

Nat stares at the paper, heart racing. Lisa's drawn herself holding Lottie's hand, and Nat and Lottie holding hands.

And she's drawn a heart between Nat and Lottie.

Oh.

Lisa thinks….

Oh.

That's why she brought up Lucy's moms.

Nat doesn't move her face, not wanting to make Lisa worry by letting her internal conflict show. Is it really that obvious? How Natalie feels, anyway. She's sure Lottie doesn't feel the same way. She probably has some beautiful woman waiting for her out in LA.

She has been in Wiskayok far longer than Nat expected her to, and she hasn't once mentioned her return to LA. But she probably just knows how it would disappoint Nat—or, more likely, Lisa—so she doesn't mention it around them. Just because she doesn't talk about it doesn't mean it isn't happening.

Lottie didn't come back home for them. That might be why she's stayed so long, but she came home to settle her fathers estate. The old house is sold, Nat's known in the back of her mind. The bastard is dead and buried, the jerk he chose to inherit his company has settled in. Lottie has severed her ties with it.

Still. Try as she might to remind herself Lottie's not a permanent fixture, her old feelings have come flooding back. Or, to be more honest, they never really left. But now Lottie's here, and she's beautiful, and smart, and she dotes on Lisa, and it's almost infuriating how perfect and unattainable she is.

She hasn't made any moves at flirtation, not since the night Nat told her about Lisa, so Nat's come to the conclusion that she was just being nice, or something. Whatever caused Lottie to look at Natalie that way, to want to go on a date with her that night, she clearly doesn't feel that way anymore.

Her phone buzzes on the table.

Nat blinks away the thoughts and the drawing comes back into focus.

"I love it, Bean. Wanna put it on the fridge?"

Lisa heartily agrees, taking the drawing and going to the kitchen. Nat picks up her phone with trembling fingers, met with, devastatingly, a text from Lottie.

Does Lise want to hang out tomorrow?

The nickname. She saw Lisa yesterday. Natalie might just be in love with her.

"Hey, Bean. Do you want to hang out with Lottie tomorrow?"

Lisa's voice carries from the kitchen, "Yes!!!!"

Nat grins, picking up her phone

she says yes

am i invited to this hang out?

or is it mother daughter bonding time

The typing bubbles indicating an incoming response start immediately.

You can definitely come if you want! My photography equipment just got here today, I thought Lisa might enjoy seeing it, trying some of it out.

Nat frowns down at her screen. Lottie's photography equipment? From LA?

You got your stuff shipped here? Just to show Lisa?

Lottie replies quickly.

Well, not just to show her. I've been missing it, too. I want to start working again. But I definitely thought of her when I decided to have it sent over.

Lisa wanders back into the room from the kitchen, but Nat can't tear her eyes away from her phone.

I'm confused?

Why not just go back to LA?

"Mom?"

Nat puts her phone down at the sound of Lisa's voice. "Yeah?"

"Can I watch TV?"

Nat gets her set up on the couch and goes to the kitchen to start the dishes. Sometime during pulling up Lisa's show, she'd felt her phone buzz into her pocket. Holding her breath, Nat checks her messages.

Lottie's texted:

You and Lisa aren't in LA, for starters

Can I call you?

Actually

Can I come over?

Nat bites her lip, heart thrumming. You and Lisa. Nat, too.

Nat types back before she can overthink it:

In an hour? Lisa will be in bed then

Lottie hearts the message, and Natalie's never been quite so happy to go through Lisa's bedtime routine.

It's done, Lisa in bed, Nat on the couch when Lottie texts. Nat had instructed her not to knock, in case Lisa hears. She opens the door, finding Lottie smiling softly. Gorgeous. Nat clears her throat, dismissing the thought as heat burns on her cheeks.

"Hey," she whispers, stepping aside. "Come in."

They sit on the couch, close but not that close. Not as close as Nat would like. Lottie's hands are folded in her lap, and she's gotten this strange, almost nervous look on her face.

"I realized that I think it's time I tell you something."

Oh. Here it comes. She's going back to LA. Nat's heart sinks.

"Okay."

Lottie swallows, wetting her lips. "It's been really hard not telling you guys, and I didn't want to leave you—"

"It's okay," Nat interrupts, suddenly not wanting to hear the words she's been anticipating for months. "I get it. Your whole life is out there. I don't blame you, at all."

Lottie blinks at her, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"I'm saying it's okay. I'm not mad."

"You're… Not mad about what?"

"That you're going back to LA."

Lottie's expression goes soft. "Oh. No, Nat, that's not what I'm saying."

Now Nat looks at her in confusion. "What?"

Lottie smiles, like she knows something Nat doesn't. "I… I bought a house here. In Wiskayok. That's where my cameras and stuff are. I was trying to tell you, I don't want to leave you guys, and I'm not trying to say we have to play family, or anything, I've just missed so much of Lisa's life, and I don't want you to have to do it by yourself anymore, not that Van and everyone isn't helping, but—"

Nat throws herself into Lottie's arms and she goes quiet, hands resting on Nat's shoulders for a moment, before wrapping around her, tight, and holding her close. She's crying a little, making Lottie's shirt and hair damp, but she doesn't seem to care at all.

"I missed you," Nat whispers, a painful confession. "So much." It frees a tension deep within her to finally admit it, but Lottie only holds her closer.

"I missed you, too," Lottie says, her voice grounding, reassuring. "I never forgot about you. I always wondered how you were doing, I always hoped you had found someone else who made you happy, but at the same time…"

"I'd hope you were still thinking about me, too," Nat murmurs, finishing Lottie's sentence and speaking her own truth.

Lottie leans back, just a little, tucking a hair behind Nat's ear. "Exactly."

"So… You're not going anywhere?"

Lottie shakes her head, hand lingering, cupping Nat's cheek. "I'm staying right here."

Her eyes flicker downwards, so Nat leans in, and Lottie's other hand comes to the back of Nat's head, and her lips feel just the same way Nat remembers them. She's somehow an even better kisser than she was eight years ago, tugging Nat into her lap, hands tangling in her hair, moaning softly into Nat's mouth, and Nat's hips roll against her, and she slips a hand down Lottie's shirt, and—

"Fuck." Lottie leans back, eyes squeezing shut, forehead resting against Nat's.

Nat tilts her head, smirking, squeezing. "What?"

Lottie opens her eyes, wide pupils fixed on Nat, desire loaded in her expression. "I really missed you."

+

Lisa loves the cameras. She likes the house, too, delighted Lottie's sticking around. She takes one of the cameras outside to take photos, running from flower to flower in the backyard. Lottie's sitting on the back steps of the porch, watching with a fond smile on her face. Nat joins her, nudging Lottie's shoulder with her own. She takes out her phone, pulling up a photo she took of Lisa's drawing from the night before.

"Lisa drew this last night."

Lottie looks at it. "Wow. She's good for her age."

Nat nudges her shoulder again. "That's you, between us."

"What? Oh." Lottie takes the phone, holding it closer, staring at the photo.

When she finally hands Nat back her phone, there are tears in her eyes. "It's cute," she says quietly.

Nat laughs softly. "Bit of an understatement, maybe." Nat fiddles with her hands, gearing up to voice the thoughts dancing in her mind, a little afraid to finally say it out loud. "I think we should tell her."

Lottie's head whips towards Nat. "Tell her…?"

"About you. And her. That you're… That you're her Mom, too."

As if summoned, Lisa starts running over. "Mama!"

Both of them turn to her. Lottie catches herself and watches with wide eyes as Nat stands to meet her.

"Yeah, Bean?"

"Lookit." Lisa turns the camera to Nat, showing her the photo she just took. "I got a chipmunk."

"Wow, Lise, it's beautiful."

Lisa shows Lottie, too, then runs off, shouting something about a neighbors flowerbeds.

Nat sits back down beside Lottie. "What do you think?"

Lottie takes Nat's hand and squeezes. "I would love that. Really."

After another hour, they retire the cameras for the day. Lottie digs some snacks out of a cabinet and they sit Lisa down between them on her new couch. Lisa munches happily at her cheezits, not a care in the world, while Nat smooths her hair.

"Lisa," Nat starts, wanting to sound serious but not scary. "Can Lottie and I talk to you about something?"

Lisa looks at both of them, curious. "'Kay."

"Okay." Natalie clears her throat. "You know how Van goes by they and them, even though that's not what they used when they were little?"

Lisa nods. "Uh-huh."

"And how with some people, the gender they were assigned when they were born doesn't match once they get a little older and understand who they are?"

Lisa nods again, the information all repetition to her, not understanding the significance of why Nat's reminding her now. "Yeah?"

Lottie shifts in her seat, and Lisa looks at her, drawn to the movement. She takes a deep breath in, and out.

"Your Mom's telling you all of this again, Lisa, because we wanted to tell you that that happened to me. People used to think I was a boy, and it took me a really long time to figure out I wasn't. I didn't figure it out all the way until after I went away for college."

Lisa looks at Lottie for a moment. She grew up around Van, and one of her classmates last year came out as trans part-way through the year. She's not so shaken to hear it, but she seems to understand some of the stress it can bring.

"Oh." She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "Okay. That's okay." She reaches out and takes one of Lottie's hands.

Lottie stares down at their hands, and Nat can see her lower lip trembling, but she pushes on. "And the reason I wanted to tell you that is because… Because, uh, back when I was in high school, I knew your Mom. The summer before I went to college, we got close. I left for college in the fall, and we lost contact. And she didn't know it before I left, otherwise I never would have gone, but after I went away for school your Mom realized she was going to have a baby. My baby."

Nat's told Lisa her version of the story before, she recognizes it, she's hanging onto every word, cheezits abandoned on the couch. Her eyes are wide as Lottie reaches the end. "Me?"

"Yeah, Bean." Nat breaks her silence. "Lottie's your other parent."

For half a beat, Lisa goes still, and Nat worries. She's upset, she's confused, she's going to run off—

Lisa launches into Lottie's lap, squealing with delight. Lottie's startled for a moment but quickly holds onto her, smoothing her hair as Lisa clings to her. Lottie peeks at Nat over Lisa's hair, gesturing for her to join. Nat slides closer, leaning into Lottie and rubbing Lisa's back.

Lisa lifts her head, revealing tears on her cheeks. Lottie frowns, swiping them away with her thumb.

"Are you alright?"

Lisa nods, leaning her head back into Lottie's shoulder. "It's happy tears."

Lottie's concern dissolves into relief, kissing the top of Lisa's head. "Thank you for letting me get to know you."

Lisa doesn't move, speaking into Lottie's neck, "You're really staying?"

Lottie tilts her head to the side so her eyes can sort of meet Lisa's, so the child can see how serious her expression is. "I'm never going anywhere else, unless you're coming with me."

Lisa's beam grows impossibly wider, nuzzling further into both of their arms.

+

Nat wipes down the counter. She glances at the clock. Only a few minutes until she can flip over the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. She rinses a mug and puts it in the dishwasher. The bell over the door jingles. Dammit. Nat plasters her customer service grin on to keep from being annoyed at someone showing up so close to close, but she hears familiar voices and feels her dread dissipate.

"—And in music we played drums, and Lucy said I sounded really good."

Lisa walks hand-in-hand with Lottie, who's listening attentively to Lisa's run-down of her day.

"What are you guys doing here?" Nat asks, feeling lighter around them than she has all day as she wipes her hands on a rag.

"Hi, Mama."

Lottie shrugs. "We wanted to go on a walk after school, so we decided to come see our favorite person."

Lisa nods seriously, digging in her backpack.

"I'm very happy to see you two. And… we're officially closed! So if you guys wanna hang out for a few minutes we can all walk home together."

Lisa nods again, head nearly buried in her backpack. Lottie grins. "That sounds perfect."

Nat sets about closing up as quickly as possible, preparing the space for Van to come in in a few hours to prep the bar.

Finally, Lisa's head pops out of her backpack, emerging with a piece of paper. "Mommy, look."

Nat turns, but she's not holding out the drawing to show Natalie.

"Wow, Lise. Very nice." Lottie admires the drawing, flipping it to show Nat. "We could put this on the fridge, if you wanted."

Lisa pulls up a seat at the bar, kicking her feet contentedly. "Yep!"

Nat's still adjusting to sharing the different titles, but Lisa pretty quickly and consistently stuck with 'Mama' for Nat and 'Mommy' for Lottie. Sometimes she wonders if she should be jealous, but whenever she sees Lisa call Lottie 'Mommy' or anything like it, she just gets a rush of joy.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Nat locks up behind her and they start walking home, Nat and Lottie each holding one of Lottie's hands. It's not a far walk to the house, closer than Nat and Lisa's old apartment. Lottie unlocks the door as they get home. Nat takes her time shucking off her shoes and flopping onto the couch after a long day of work, Lisa running ahead to stick her drawing to the fridge. Lottie hangs up her jacket and passes Nat on the couch, pecking her on the forehead and whispering a soft, "I love you," as she goes to the kitchen.

"I love you, too," Nat murmurs as she goes, shutting her eyes and leaning back as the sounds of Lottie complimenting Lisa's drawing on the fridge filter in. Lisa's laughter flows into the room, and Nat's at ease.