The Triad

by Sarah Ettritch

  “Several thousand. This is one of the oldest sectors. You should get Mo to show you around the Middleton estate. You can pick up the wall there. I guess the part of it in between crumbled.”

  “If she decides to give me a tour, all three of us could go.”

  “She’s not with us today, so...”

  “Only because we thought we’d try a spontaneous outing that wasn’t for Berry.” Jayne’s mouth turned up at the corners, but Lesley detected a hint of sadness in her voice.

  “Do you wish Mo was here?”

  “No. I wouldn’t mind if she was here, but I don’t need her to be here.” Jayne shook her head, then picked up a twig and traced a line in the dirt. “I’m not explaining myself very well. I agree with Berry that all the couples need time alone together. I don’t see you alone very often, so I don’t mind that Mo isn’t with us. I wouldn’t mind you being with us when—if Mo shows me around the Middleton estate, because I already spend a lot of time alone with Mo.”

  It sounded as if Jayne saw herself and Lesley as a couple, strengthening Lesley’s suspicion that Jayne had feelings for her. Then again, if they weren’t in a triad—if she and Jayne had been Chosens to each other and nobody else—they would have been a couple from the moment they left the Chosen House after their notification meetings, feelings or no. “I’m sure Mo wishes she was here.”

  Jayne smiled. “Yes. I’m glad we’re meeting her for supper.” She paused. “It’s different for me than it is for you and Mo.” The line in the dirt became an X. “I’m not facing the issues you two are. I’m the interloper.”

  Lesley frowned. “Not intentionally, and I think interloper is too strong.” Or at least it was now. At their notifications, Jayne certainly had been an unwelcome intruder into their lives.

  “I feel that way.” Jayne added another X to her growing collection. “Not because of anything you and Mo have done. You’re both being great. I don’t know how I’d react in your position, and that’s just it—I’m not in your position. I have it easier than both of you. At the Dance Hall, I was thinking about how I met both of you at the same time, so you’ll always be the couple to me. I’ll never resent the time you spend together. I can’t be jealous because I never had either one of you to myself. For me, it would be strange for you and Mo not to be together. And Mo sort of sees it that way, too. She said she thinks of you as hers and of me as both of yours. To be honest, that’s the way I see it, too, in terms of what I am to the two of you, and I’m fine with it.”

  It wasn’t fair, though. There shouldn’t be a primary relationship, with the third triad member tacked on. But given that Lesley and Mo had been a couple long before Jayne, perhaps that was the only way the triad could work for them.

  “I told Mo that you probably think in the same terms she does.” Jayne dropped the twig and gazed at Lesley.

  “I do, but I’d like to think that our view of you will change over time. It might take a while, but it will change.”

  Jayne’s brows shot up. “You really believe that?”

  “Yes.” In twenty years, would she and Mo still see Jayne as secondary, after Joining, and sharing a home, and raising children together? Somehow Lesley doubted it, even though getting to that point seemed almost impossible right now. “Your view might change, too. Of course, Mo and I will always be together, but perhaps you’ll stop seeing our relationship as the foundation of the triad.”

  Jayne was silent for a moment. She picked up the twig. “I don’t think I will. I can’t, because it is the foundation. And you know what? I’m glad we have your relationship as the foundation, because it’s strong. You and Mo can make it through anything. And you will.”

  Every time Lesley had told Mo that she’d love her no matter what, she’d meant it. Mo’s feelings for Jayne had never threatened Lesley’s feelings for Mo. Lesley had worried about Mo’s love for her, and was starting to believe that Mo hadn’t fallen out of love with her, that she was being sincere when she insisted that nothing had changed. Jayne was an addition, not a replacement. Lesley’s relationship with Mo was still special, still uniquely theirs. Now it was a matter of her heart catching up with her head. Seeing Mo with Jayne would still sting, especially as they grew more affectionate and shared private moments that would always be theirs alone. But the peace, the acceptance that Lesley had glimpsed on the beach with Mo, was gaining a foothold. It had a long way to go to reach the summit, but at least Lesley believed the mountain could be climbed.

  She also appreciated Jayne’s support, and the more she came to know her, the more she suspected that Jayne would be a strong ally and someone she could trust. She’d assumed that she’d never develop feelings for Jayne, had even denied her as a Chosen. But now...whatever happened, would happen.

  Lesley took a long drink of water and watched Jayne draw in the dirt, content to sit in companionable silence until they both felt rested enough to press on.

  *****

  Jayne gave Carol a sidelong glance as they sauntered along the path near the White home. Carol hadn’t explicitly said that she wanted to talk to Jayne alone, but why else would she insist that they go for a walk while Lesley, Mo, and Ronald discussed the first-year Military Academy curriculum? Carol had practically dragged her outside. Jayne folded her arms. “So Ronald’s nephew is thinking about the military?” she said to get Carol talking.

  Carol nodded. “You must get tired of all the military talk.”

  “No. They don’t really talk about their roles much. I am starting to think in military time, though.” She chuckled, remembering how she’d waited outside her apartment at 16:45, as Mo had instructed.

  “I thought supper went well.”

  “It did. You pulled off the pudding you were worried about.”

  Carol grunted. They continued to stroll, but not in the comfortable silence Jayne usually enjoyed with Carol. Still, she held her tongue. Carol had asked for this walk. When she was ready, she’d share whatever was on her mind.

  Several minutes later, they turned around and headed back to the White home. Jayne started to doubt whether Carol would ever speak, but after they’d rounded a curve in the path and could see the house, Carol stopped walking and whirled toward her. “I have something to tell you. It’s good news,” she said, but her forced smile and the tightness around her eyes suggested otherwise.

  “What is it? It doesn’t involve Robert, does it?”

  “No, just Ronald and me.” Carol hesitated. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh! Congratulations.” She reached for Carol and hugged her. “That is good news.” But Carol’s shoulders were stiff. Jayne stepped back and searched her face.

  “We’re having a girl.”

  “You’ll be a mama.”

  Carol nodded. “It’ll take some getting used to, but we’re looking forward to it.”

  “When is she due?”

  “Six months. We declined the details about hair and eye colour and other particulars. We’d rather be surprised.”

  “You both must be thrilled.” But Carol didn’t look overjoyed. “What’s wrong?” And why hadn’t Carol announced it at the supper table?

  Carol blew out a sigh. “When the baby arrives, Ronald’s family will constantly be over, and so will mine. Everyone goes crazy when children are involved.”

  Jayne’s heart sank.

  “Mama and Papa...they know we’re close.” Carol’s finger travelled quickly between herself and Jayne. “Ronald’s family knows we see each other often. But with a baby involved...”

  “What do they think will happen if I hold the baby?” Tears prickled at her eyelashes. She dug her fingernails into her palms. She wouldn’t cry over this, not in front of Carol, who’d stuck by her and supported her, and probably saved her life, or at least her dignity and the tiny shred of self-worth she’d managed to cling to. “Will I get to see the baby at some point?” Her pain crept into her voice despite her best efforts.

  “Argamon, yes!” Carol’s eyes moistened and she bi
t her lip. “I’m not telling you to stay away. I’m warning you that you might receive a hostile reception if you do come over.”

  Rymellans usually pulled their children out of her way when she approached, clutching them to their sides and giving her a wide berth, as if breathing the same air she did would contaminate them. Who knew how Ronald’s family would react? As for Carol’s...considering they’d hustled Jayne into her own apartment as soon as they could get away with it, all to spare their younger children the horror of being closely associated with an Adams, she wouldn’t expect them to greet her with open arms when she came to see their grandchild. “I’ll stay away for a while.”

  “If it was just Ronald and me, it wouldn’t matter. And if you do come over, you know I’ll—we’ll—stand behind you.”

  But Carol would be torn, and so would Ronald, and their families had to come before Jayne. “I’ll want to see images of what I missed.”

  Carol smiled through her tears. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll bring her to you.”

  “Don’t do anything that will cause a problem between you and Ronald and his family.”

  Carol waved a dismissive hand. “Ronald doesn’t care, and his family won’t be over twenty-four hours a day. I feel awful warning you away, because our door is always open to you.”

  “It’s okay,” Jayne said, even though she felt as if a carpet had been pulled out from under her. Carol was more to her than a cousin; she was a wise older sister who’d taken care of her when she’d most needed someone. Jayne had always thought she’d be there. But things change. They already weren’t as close as they were before Ronald, and a baby would only widen the distance between them. “I don’t want us to grow apart,” she couldn’t help saying.

  “Neither do I. And we won’t,” Carol said firmly. “There’ll be a flurry of activity when she’s born, but it’ll die down.” Her voice softened. “After Ronald, you’re the person I’m closest to. I’m closer to you than I am to my family.”

  Because she’d made a brave choice, and Jayne sometimes wondered if she regretted it. Now it was Jayne’s turn to give back by not making things awkward when the baby arrived. “I’d love to see her, but I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  Carol snorted. “It won’t be anything for me to whip out and see you for an hour or two. Ronald will come too, when he can.” She frowned. “Oh, but you’ll be living on the estate by then, not in your apartment. Maybe Mo will pick us up and fly us. Can babies go on aviacrafts?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask Mo and Lesley.” She forced a smile. “Speaking of Mo...”

  Carol peered at her. “What?”

  She scratched her head, suddenly embarrassed and self-conscious. “We’re sort of getting involved.”

  “Sort of?” Carol grinned. “What does that mean?”

  She wasn’t sure; they were trying to figure that out. But for Carol... “I like her. And she likes me.” Jayne’s smile grew wider and became genuine.

  Carol gleefully laughed. “Argamon, that’s wonderful! Both our lives are changing!”

  Jayne nodded, pleased to see Carol happy. She hadn’t intended to tell her about Mo, but had wanted to assuage Carol’s guilt by reminding her that she wouldn’t sit alone in her apartment while everyone else cooed at the baby. She had two Chosens now.

  “What about Lesley?” Carol asked.

  Jayne hesitated, then decided to be honest. “I like her in that way. But I don’t think she feels the same.”

  “It’ll happen,” Carol said. “Give it time.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, look who’s coming. Time for me to leave.”

  Jayne spun around. Mo was strolling toward them. “Carol, you don’t have to—” It was too late. Carol was already walking away, and waved at Mo, then over her shoulder at Jayne.

  “I didn’t break up a private conversation, did I?” Mo stopped next to Jayne and watched Carol’s receding back.

  “No. We were finished.”

  Mo looked up at her. “Is everything okay?”

  Her first thought was to say, “Yes,” and wait until she could tell Mo and Lesley about the pregnancy at the same time. But it would be impossible to ensure that both of them learned about developments in her life together. They’d have to accept that sometimes one would be told before the other, and only because of circumstance, not because one was more important. This was more Carol’s news than hers, anyway. “Carol’s pregnant.”

  Mo gasped. “That’s great!” Her face slackened. “Right?”

  When Jayne had first met Mo and Lesley, she would have done her best to hide, or at least downplay, her dismay over her conversation with Carol. She would have fixed a smile on her face and said, “Yes, it’s great!” But enough trust had developed between her and Mo—and, for Jayne, with Lesley—to lower her guard around them and be honest. “I’m pleased for her. But it means I’ll have to stay away from here for a while after she’s—it’s a girl—born. I don’t want to upset the families.”

  “Carol doesn’t want you around?”

  “No, it’s not Carol. I don’t want to drive a rift between her and everyone else. She’ll come visit me with the baby. Can babies go on aviacrafts?”

  Mo nodded. “I guess I’ll be shuttling a baby around.” Her smile at the thought quickly faded. “You shouldn’t have to stay away.”

  “It’ll just be until the fuss dies down.” Her breath caught in her throat. What about Lesley and Mo’s children? The fuss would never die down for them. Would they be teased, ostracized, forced to endure the same treatment she’d experienced at the Indoctrination and Learning Academies? Argamon, it would never end. At least their children would have loving parents to support them, but would that be enough?

  Suddenly Mo’s arms were around Jayne’s neck. “What are you doing?” Jayne asked.

  “Hugging you. You look like you need one.”

  She should deny it and draw away, but she slipped her arms around Mo and pulled her close. She couldn’t relax, though, not when she was keeping an eye on the Whites’ front door. If Lesley stepped outside, Jayne would try not to push Mo to the ground in her haste to back away.

  “I’d kiss you, but I don’t want our first kiss to feel like a pity kiss,” Mo murmured.

  Jayne dared to tighten her arms around Mo. “This is nice,” she blurted. She was too shy to add that she looked forward to that first kiss.

  *****

  Jayne leaned back against the sofa and smiled as she read Mo’s dispatch from 72. Busy with a new wave of practicums, Mo hadn’t asked Jayne to go with her. Jayne hadn’t minded, and Lesley hadn’t pushed, especially when Mo had shared her practicum schedule with them—she’d barely have time to eat. But she had found the time to write a dispatch, much to Jayne’s delight.

  This is the second practicum in the curriculum, so at least the students aren’t completely green. I realized earlier today that I actually enjoy doing this. I wouldn’t want to teach in a classroom, but it’s rewarding to see the students improve, even over the course of one session.

  What type of teacher was Mo? Jayne imagined her gently guiding her students and chuckling when someone made a mistake, but Mo took her flying very seriously. Maybe she was all business, barking orders, and berating students who couldn’t get it right. No, Mo would never beat someone up for not being perfect. Bark orders? Maybe.

  Jayne’s comm unit beeped twice just as she reached the end of Mo’s dispatch. When she checked the dispatch list, shock jolted through her and she straightened. The dispatch was from the art college where she’d submitted her application. Jayne steeled herself and opened it.

  Jayne Adams,

  We regret to inform you that your application to study in our art program is declined.

  Comments for candidate: None

  Yours in the Way,

  The Applications Committee

  She read it again, then stared at the single word that leaped out at her like a knife driven into her gut: None. None? Not even We hated your painting?
Nothing? Had they even looked at it, or had they tossed it down the nearest recycling chute as soon as they’d read her name?

  It didn’t matter. She’d known her chances of being accepted were slim. But her shaking hands and blurred vision belied the reassuring words she whispered to herself. Of course it mattered! Nothing? Not one word? Was she that terrible? Had she deluded herself all these years? Had they passed around her painting, laughed at it, hung it in the teaching studio as a lesson of how not to paint?

  The comm unit slid from her fingers. She wanted to scratch away the shameful tears that rolled down her cheeks. Why was she crying when she hadn’t lost anything? She had no right! Nobody credible had ever praised her work or encouraged her, so what had she expected? She was useless. And now she’d have to tell Lesley and Mo that she wasn’t an artist, that her reports from the Learning Academy were true, that she was a talentless Rymellan who wasn’t worth the air she breathed. While they continued to excel in their military careers—despite her—she’d waste her life away creating artwork that nobody wanted to see.

  She should have trusted her instinct and not applied, so she could continue to lie to herself that she could draw and paint, that her teachers were the liars. Now she’d have to face the truth. Her parents were gone, Robert had quickly abandoned her, Carol and Ronald were starting a family, and Lesley and Mo were stuck with her because the alternative was death. Mo claimed to care for her, but Mo had expected Jayne to get into art school. Mo would soon figure out that her second Chosen was beneath her, with nothing to offer.

  Jayne’s tears flowed faster; she hugged herself as sobs wracked her body. She was tired of giving herself pep talks. How long was she supposed to believe in herself, to fuel the creative energy she needed to pick up a pencil or paintbrush, without a single word of encouragement? Nobody had bottomless drive; without any support, everyone would reach the point where they’d throw up their hands and admit defeat. Well, she’d reached hers.