Page 35 of Cascade

Diana scoffs. “Can you really see any of them responding if I asked for something like this?” She gestures around the room. From what Archer has said, Diana has always been pretty independent.

I’m pretty sure everyone in this town would come running if Diana asked. I’ve heard tales of her helping to euthanize people’s sick birds, hauling heavy supplies to help set up for town festivals. But I also know how hard it is to ask for help when you’re used to only trusting yourself. I pat her arm. “If you and Asa decide to have a baby, I promise to write you an affirmation.”

I meet her eye and am a little overwhelmed by the trust I see in her smile back at me. “Are you,” I ask, “thinking about having a baby?”

Diana shrugs. “Asa would be hot as fuck wearing a baby in one of those carrier things like Indigo has.” I nod. She grins and says, “I might have demanded that he impregnate me before I kicked him out of this room a bit ago.”

“I won’t tell you that I think you’d be wonderful parents if you don’t want to hear that,” I say. I hesitate, but decide that she opened up to me and it’s only fair if I’m fully honest with her. “I’m really glad you told me what was upsetting you. It makes me feel less like a freak for feeling like I was suffocating out there.” I gesture vaguely toward the kitchen and all the noise.

“What? My family? Suffocating?” Diana laughs and wipes at her eyes. “Honestly, it’s better if you are a bit of a freak. You’ll fit in better here.”

“I’m serious, though,” I tell her. “I don’t even know how to be around families who love each other. I never had anything like that.”

Diana looks like she’s going to punch me in the arm, but pats my shoulder instead and says, “You’ll get used to it really quickly. The Crawfords are kind of like a fungus, and we’re absorbing you into our colony. Flaws and all.”

Now it’s my turn to cry, and my tears set off hers again. We stand there laughing and crying a little bit until I hear a cough from the doorway. I look over to see Archer leaning against the wall. “Hey,” he says with a small smile. “You guys ready? Dad’s slicing the bird.”

Diana straightens out her ponytail and says, “We’re notguys, Archibald.”

She shoulders past him toward the kitchen and he wraps his arms around me, planting a gentle kiss on my temple.

“What was that for?”

He shrugs. “I just missed you,” he says.

Archer keeps one arm around the back of my chair throughout dinner and I can’t help but notice his family noticing how physical he’s being. Affectionate. I keep waiting to feel more nervous about it, but I’m on such a high from my conversation with Diana, from the warmth and love in this kitchen, that I just let myself settle into the smell of his deodorant and enjoy my meal.

Dr. Mitchell regales everyone with tales of her pregnancy with Hunter, of her epically swollen ankles that prevented her from pushing the pedals to drive her car anywhere. Her face changes suddenly, and she asks, “Speaking of temporary disability…Archer, did you ever go visit Teresa McMurray?”

He reaches for his water glass and nods as he takes a sip. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s like you said. She seems fine. Just can’t talk. Thistle moved back home and leased her place in the city. Gonna start at the office next week.”

“I really ought to go visit Teresa. Daniel, it’s just shameful that I haven’t gone to visit her.” Rose fiddles with the buttons on her cardigan and stares at her plate.

“She’ll still need visitors next week, Rose,” he says, patting her leg. “I know it’s hard to think about.”

Seeing my confused expression, Abigail offers, “An old family friend had a stroke. She’s really young. Only 55.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Never had a health concern in her life,” he says. “The McMurrays are all vegetarian for crying out loud.”

Archer squeezes my thigh. “You know about strokes and things like that, don’t you, Precious?”

“Can you not call your girlfriend pet names at dinner,” Diana kicks him under the table. I push my mashed potatoes on my plate with my fork.

“I do. A lot of my research is about high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia,” I say. “The grant I have now includes screening for stroke risk.” I make eye contact with Abigail. “You’re doing great. I don’t want to worry you and talk all about my research.”

Rose smiles. “Well I want to hear all about it, darling,” she says. “Another time. When nobody is pregnant.” She aims a pointed stare at Diana, who rolls her eyes.

“Geeze, Ma. How about we nag at Fletcher for a change. He won’t even freaking come home. I at least got married.”

The Crawfords all start to argue about who is the worst adult child and Asa raises his glass toward me and toward Abigail in toast. I swallow, my throat thick. I feel myself settling in to all of this. To the conversation, to the promise of talking about my research to someone in the future. I feel myself getting used to the smell of Archer’s soap, to the feel of his stubble against my cheek. I’m quiet for the rest of the meal as I fight my instincts to run before I set myself up for the inevitable disappointment that comes from trusting someone.

I want to believe in the fairytale of Oak Creek—that this is a community where people take care of one another. But I know that a big part of me is holding her breath, waiting for the eviction notice from this life, for the door to slam in my face.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Archer

OPAL AND DIANA help Abigail into the living room while my family gets ready to argue over which movie we will all watch as we slowly digest our food. Asa and Hunter and I take on dish detail and while I’m hauling a bag of garbage out through the back door, I see Opal’s phone going nuts inside her coat pocket.

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