Walking past rows of wooden seed boxes, I scan for the one I need in the alphabetized line of labels. Finding it, I lift it from the shelf and attempt to remove the top, but it doesn’t budge. Adjusting my grip, I wrench the left edge, only to have my hand slip, liberating a long shard of wood that splinters underneath my left index fingernail. Cursing under my breath, I move toward the light and gingerly remove it, being careful not to leave any fragments. Pressing my finger against my thigh to stop the stinging, I search for a crowbar.
With the lid to the crate finally on the floor, I remove ten seed packets, replace the crate, and assure that the new quantity has been noted on the shelf display. Once I confirm that everything has been recorded correctly, I make my way back up the stairs toward daylight.
Val is still in the office, brows furrowed, looking very intently at information on her display.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, slinging my bag into place.
“Oh? Yes, sorry. I tend to look a bit upset when I am working like this. Numbers tend to consume me.”
“I’m the same way,” I laugh and her shoulders relax. “I’ll be back after I get these seeds in—I have a couple of things I am hoping you could pass on to the Committee for me. Will you be here when I get back?”
She straightens in her chair. A little too eager. “I will likely be the last one to leave this afternoon, but I may be over at the main office by then. We could meet there?”
“If I don’t see you here, I will stop by on my way out. Thanks,” I say, trudging back toward the main door.
“Happy to help.”
As I grip the handle, her voice calls out, “Hey, is your hand okay?”
Lowering my gaze, I see blood dripping from my finger. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was bleeding. Just a small casualty from my attempts to open a seed crate,” I chuckle.
“Let me help you,” she offers, rising from her chair.
“No, it’s alright,” I say, pressing my finger again to my pant leg. “These need to be washed anyway.” I give her a wave as I pass through the door, and my body is enveloped in the bright afternoon sunlight.
46 Eric
Leaning back against the wooden chair, I wait for Val. She wasn’t at the storage facility when I finished my shift, so here I am, true to my word. Being in such a formal greeting area makes me acutely aware of my dirty apparel and the dried sweat in my hair. I self-consciously notice the tracks of dirt that my boots left behind when I entered. I assure myself that this can’t possibly be the first time a field hand has come here to get a fresh drink after a shift. The glass in my hand feels cool and inviting, and the lemon floating on top of the water is fragrant. Still, I find myself hoping that Val turns up sooner rather than later.
A few long minutes later, the door opens at the other end of the room and Val walks toward me. My shoulders relax to their normal position as I stand to greet her. We awkwardly shake hands and she sits across from me, nodding to the attendant when he offers to bring her water, as well. She really is beautiful, and I can’t help but notice her long, strawberry-blonde hair flowing over her right shoulder and along her collarbone. I hastily clear my throat.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I start, all business. “I had a few requests and thought it would be easier to explain in person.”
“I avoid digital communication whenever possible,” she laughs and I notice small creases springing up along the corner of her eyes. “What can I help with?”
“Over the last few planting seasons, we have seen an increase in powdery mildew, specifically on our squash and pumpkin plants. I am worried we may be seeing another adaptation in the fungus. When I was at the lab, we were specifically working on genetic resistance in cucurbit crops. I wondered if there have been any viable seeds produced that we could have access to? I would be happy to run a trial here if it would be helpful.” I hesitate to go on, noticing her growing confusion. Then a flash of understanding crosses her face.
“You used to be in the hybridization lab, I forgot about that,” she says, clearly impressed. “I was expecting complaints about seed variety or something. That’s typically what I hear when I visit growers.”
“Sorry to take you off-gourd,” I blurt without thinking. She snorts and heat rushes to my cheeks. “That—was a really lame joke,” I say apologetically. “I blame it completely on my mental exhaustion after a full workday.” Am I flirting? Is this what flirting is? I chastise myself, but the energy is intoxicating.
“Well, luckily, I am also coming off a long day, so I found it funny,” she laughs. The emptiness comes fast, without warning, and nearly bowls me over with its intensity. I take a drink of water, trying to conceal my shaking hands. She notices, nonetheless.
“Hey, are you all right?” Her voice is tender, concerned. It only serves to make me keenly aware of my own convalescence.
I stand up abruptly. “Yes, I just need to get some rest. If you could pass that along to the Committee, I would really appreciate it,” I request hastily. “We will also need increased amounts of potato and onion starts next quarter, though I am sure they are aware of our population growth. Thanks, Val,” I finish, moving to go. Her hand reaches out, stopping me, and remains frozen on my forearm.
“Eric, you don’t have to punish yourself,” she pleads quietly.
I look at her, bewilderment apparent on my face. “I’m not—“
“Yes, you are,” she asserts. “Somehow you think that forcing yourself to be a martyr is going to serve some purpose, bring gravity and meaning to Kate’s life and death.”
I shudder involuntarily when I hear her name and look away.
“You don’t have to continue to suffer,” she continues. “I am not saying that you need to pair right away or even that you need to be interested in me, but for goodness sake, sit and have a drink and allow yourself to have a good time! You can have a conversation with an adult who is interested in you without it taking anything away from your past.”
The cognitive dissonance is overwhelming. My learned synaptic responses to pain scream at me to escape—to avoid ever getting close to another human again. The familiar void permeates my being, and my skin becomes clammy with cold sweat. Yet, I crave connection and logically understand that I will be better for it. For the moment, those enlightened desires are not winning.
“I—”
My throat closes and nothing else comes out. Patting her hand is the closest I can come to finishing my sentence. I walk out the door without a backward glance.
47 Kate
They’re asleep. Both of them. At the same time. I sit down, not quite knowing what to do with myself. My headache is nearly nonexistent, Bentley is at conditioning, and the girls are sleeping. This has never happened before and I am elated. I can’t decide if I want to frantically clean the house, or lie down and take a nap myself. Nap. Definitely nap. Tip-toeing to the bedroom, I lie down on the bed and pull a light blanket over my legs. Allowing my head to luxuriously settle into the pillows, I sigh contentedly. Just as I am drifting off, the sound of the front door opening jolts me back to the present, disoriented. My heart rate skyrockets as I move quickly into the hallway, throwing the blanket on the floor behind me. Could Bentley be home early?
Nick laughs when he sees the expression on my face, barely visible as I peek around the corner.
“Were you napping? Did I scare you?” he asks, amused.
“Shhh!” I say hurriedly, reaching for his hand. “This is a miraculous moment and you are ruining it!” I rush in a whisper, pushing him quickly to the bedroom and shutting the door.
“What is going on?” he says softly, mirroring my tone and setting his messenger bag gently on the floor by the closet.
“You are witnessing the first moment ever where both girls are asleep. At the same time. And I am not responsible for any children.” I give a dramatic bow. “And yes, I was napping and you woke me up. What are you doing home so early?”
He stifles a laugh, but humors me by gently lo
wering himself to the bed and stretching out slowly, resting on his elbows.
“I am so sorry, I thought you would be excited to see me! I had no idea I would be interrupting your incredibly rare and valuable time.” He gets points for at least attempting to be apologetic.
I sigh. Walking over to him, I climb onto his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. “I guess I am a little happy to see you,” I say, kissing his brow. His surprised response is exactly the reaction I was hoping for. A thrilling tingle shoots up my spine as his hands find my back.
“Are you...are we...I mean, I know your body has been all over the place since having the girls. I don’t want to assume—“
“Oh, you better assume,” I say, pushing him onto his back. He grips my arms and I fall with him. His chest presses against mine, the pulsing of his quickened heart rate mimicking my own. It’s been too long.
My legs drape over his, both of us exhausted, halfway between sleep and consciousness. At least one of the girls should be waking up any moment, so I soak in the quiet relaxation.
A few moments later, as predicted, desperate protests emit from the bedroom down the hall. I reluctantly move from the bed and throw on the closest items of clothing I can find, my cotton pants and Nick’s shirt. When I open the door to the bedroom, the crying halts and Leah whips her head toward the sound. Somehow, after all of her sister’s commotion, Beth is still fast asleep. Leah’s face lights up when she sees me peek over the crib railing. I lift her into my arms and tip-toe back to our room, giggling at her efforts to find food by rooting on my neck. Nick is propped up in bed waiting for us. He greets Leah excitedly and she responds with frantically kicking legs. He isn’t able to distract her for long, though. She whimpers and I hurriedly latch her to my breast. I trace her smooth, perfect forehead and her eyes flicker in response.
“So what instigated your early return today?” I ask Nick.
“Oh I see, now you’re interested in my life when there aren’t better options,” he teases.
I laugh and smack his arm softly.
“I wasn’t able to begin any more trials this afternoon— the machine was updating, so I prepped everything for tomorrow and came home,” he answers, reaching over and rubbing Leah’s foot.
“What trials are you running right now?”
“I’m still entrenched in the amygdala.”
“Of course. A completely normal thing to be entrenched in,” I laugh. “Any luck?”
“Yes and no. I think I have found another specific point that tends to store particular memories involving fear. It’s just really difficult to isolate every location where the brain has harbored those responses during an incident. When we reverse a patient’s trauma, the findings still show that people are continuing to respond irrationally to similar stimuli. The response is significantly lessened,” he sighs, “but not completely eliminated. We are getting closer.”
“That’s great, Nick. You are definitely the man for the job,” I flash him a cheesy grin and he rolls his eyes.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he remarks, slipping on lounge pants and a new t-shirt, eyeing mine suspiciously. “I think I hear Beth, I’ll go get her,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
When both girls are fed, we move out to the living room and lay them on their blankets with a few favorite toys to keep them busy. Nick helps tidy up in the kitchen while I prepare vegetables and fruit, in case Bentley needs a snack upon arriving home from conditioning.
Nick’s hand brushes my hips as he moves to the front door, on his way to pick up Bent from his meeting point. Leah and Beth continue to coo to each other while I clean up my prep area. So much of my time goes into feeding and entertaining these tiny humans. At the end of the day, I often look around and wonder what exactly occupied all of my time, having nothing to really show for myself. I have to be satisfied with full bellies and smiles. And when there are no smiles, to trust that they will come.
Moments later, Bent runs through the door, energetic as always, and throws his bag and shoes across the floor.
“Nope!” I correct good naturedly, “where do those belong?” He huffs, quickly hanging up his bag and scooting his shoes to the mat with his foot.
“Better, thank you,” I say gratefully, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “How was your day?”
“The best!” he answers excitedly, and I can’t help but absorb some of his enthusiasm.
“What made it the best?” I ask, sitting him on the couch beside me.
“We were studying plants. It was all in the greenhouse. I love the smell in there. And then we got to eat things that were ready to be picked.”
“Wow, that does sound like an amazing day. I guess I didn’t need to make you a snack, though.”
“Yep, I’m not hungry yet,” Bentley says, hopping to the floor and playing with Beth. Her face erupts into a gummy grin and her eyes widen when he moves his face close to hers.
“It’s ok, we can save it for later.” I turn to see Nick coming through the door. “What took you so long?” I tease.
“I was talking with Pat. Apparently her sister is debating reversal therapy and she had some questions about it.”
“Oh? What about?”
“Just pros and cons. I told her what I could.”
I nod. “Hey, do you want to do something together before training tomorrow night? I could ask Shari to come over a bit earlier to watch the kids. I am kind of in the mood to be alone with you right now.”
“Gross, Mom,” Bentley grimaces, but I know he secretly likes our flirting.
Nick laughs. “Whatever, Bent! You’re just jealous.” He playfully tackles and pins him to the floor, giving the girls a wide berth. Bent tries to wriggle out of his hold, but ends up collapsing in a fit of laughter instead.
“That’s a solid yes on tomorrow. What did you have in mind?” Nick says, letting Bentley go free.
“Maybe we could walk to training? Go through the gardens?”
“Perfect,” he agrees, and I tap my sensor to message Shari.
48 Kate
“Wait up!” Bentley yells, chasing after Tal down the trail. “Tal! Wait!” he pleads. Tal doesn’t look back. Regardless of whether he is legitimately not hearing his calls or purposefully ignoring him, it results in Bentley halting abruptly mid-trail and bursting into sobs. Eric scoops him up and whispers something in his ear while I jog past them down the trail.
“Hey!” I shout, causing Tal to finally turn around. He pauses, allowing me catch up. “Hey, did you hear your brother back there?” He doesn’t answer. “That made him really sad,” I say, hoping to stir some empathy in him.
Tal sighs. “I know, I’m sorry. I just wanted to go fast and Bent always complains when I do that.”
I put my arm around his shoulder as we continue on. “Tal, someday Bent will be bigger and you’re going to wish he still wanted to keep up with you. I know it’s hard to be the older brother, but if you can have some perspective—what I mean is, you and Bent have the chance to be great friends. But it will take effort from both sides to make it happen.”
“So I always have to go slow?” he whines.
“No, but you could communicate with him. Find a compromise.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” he promises glumly, and I ruffle his hair.
I hear Eric and Bentley approaching behind us and turn to greet them, but it’s only Bent.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask.
“Dad? Who’s that?” Bentley questions, looking puzzled. Panic rises in my chest.
“Dad. Eric. He was holding you back there.”
Bent turns to look. “Nobody was holding me, Mom.”
I run a few steps back, my throat swelling, making it impossible to speak. The boys stand there watching me, clearly confused, and completely—abnormally—still. My entire body begins to shake and tears spring to my eyes.
“Who can help me!?” I desperately shout into the trees, realizing that no words have left my lips.
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My eyes fly open, my cheeks and pillow soaked with tears and my body damp with sweat. I lay there, terrified. What was that?
It wasn’t real, I think, forcing myself to breathe deeply. It wasn’t real.
Nick stirs beside me. I flick off the sheet and leave the bed open, allowing it to dry while I use the washroom. Sitting longer than I need to, I stretch my neck and attempt to shake the vivid images still lingering in my thoughts. My hair sticks to my neck. Standing up, I peel it from my skin, tying it into a loose knot. After splashing water on my face, I reach for a towel and use it to wipe my face and décolletage.
The soft, clean shirt I pull over my head feels wonderful. Though the sheets aren’t completely dry, I slip between them and slowly press my body up to Nick’s back for warmth. He turns toward me and I pull back. Though I didn’t intend to wake him, my body relaxes in relief. As his face mirrors mine, I crush my lips to his before he gets a chance to ask. He quickly responds, despite his surprise. I know he can sense my desperation, but he doesn’t require an explanation. Allowing the dream to fade against his strength, I lose myself. This is real, I repeat. This is real.
Nick doesn’t mention anything all day, but I know he has to be wondering what prompted our middle-of-the-night soirée. I debate whether I should tell him the truth or not, considering that I have already opened up about the dream with my mom. That one came frequently when I was pregnant with the girls. This might tip the scales to full crazy. Now I am not only experiencing terrifying dreams, but I am imagining a child? An Eric that lived? What is wrong with me!?
I go through the daily motions, and eventually Shari arrives to watch the kids. Nick opens the door for her since I am nestled on the couch with both girls, topping them off before we leave. Beth, as usual, is taking longer than Leah. She frantically grips my breast when I try to remove her. I sigh, deciding to allow her a few more minutes, though I’m fairly sure she is only comforting herself. The cushion sinks next to me as Shari sits, forcing me to shift my balance.
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