59. Chapter 59

When Wynonna stumbled out of bed half past noon, Waverly and Gus were still clinging to each other over their love for the recently decided baby name. Wynonna, who was only wearing a loose black tank top over her skewed panties, revealing one full butt cheek, eyed them suspiciously when trudging past. When no one but Nicole reacted to Wynonna’s sudden presence, the newly awakened Earp rolled her eyes and went straight for the coffee pot. 

Gus finally dried her tears and excused herself from the kitchen, disappearing quickly down the hallway towards Curtis’ old office. 

“What’s with her?” Wynonna asked. She noisily dragged a chair back and plopped down on it, spilling hot coffee over her hands and thighs. “Ow! Shit.”

When Wynonna was done wiping her thigh sloppily with her hand, Waverly answered, “I decided on a name.”

Wynonna looked at her, her eyes big as saucers. “Well?” she implored impatiently. 

Waverly had a clever smile on her face and was purposefully building the suspense. Nicole smirked. 

“Charles Curtis,” Waverly finally admitted. “Or Charlie, for short.”

Wynonna raised her eyes while considering the name. She nodded and said slowly, “Alright, I can work with that. CC Earp, C-dawg, Charlie B, Chucky Chuck. Char Char Binks.”

The annoyance was clear in Waverly’s eyes. “No,” she said sternly, pointing a finger towards her sister. “No funny nicknames that aren’t funny. He’s Charlie or Charles. Not Char Char fudging Binks.”

“Alright! Jeez.” Wynonna raised her hands in defence. “Whatever yousa say,” she added in a contorted, high-pitched voice.

Nicole actually found Char Char Binks pretty funny, but managed to hide her laughter within her own mind.

“So, uh,” said Wynonna, switching the subject. “Charlie’s mom, is there any food around?”

Waverly sighed and rolled her eyes. Then she pushed herself up and waddled to the fridge to get the sandwich she’d prepared. 

“Nice,” Wynonna commented appreciatively when Waverly pushed the plate in front of her nose. She licked her lips for a bit and dove in, chewing loudly as she slurped the whole thing up in less than a minute. 

Waverly watched her with disgust. 

Nicole cleared her throat. “When do you guys wanna leave? I got work tomorrow, so not too late, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Waverly said slowly, a thoughtful look suddenly on her face. 

“Unless there’s something else you wanna do before we go?” Nicole suggested kindly. 

Waverly caught her eyes, and there was clearly something there. A wish for something that was hard to articulate. Nicole gave her a little nod of encouragement. 

“Uh, Wy?” Waverly asked.

Wynonna was swallowing down the rest of her breakfast. “Hm?” 

“We, uh, we went to the homestead. Yesterday.”

Wynonna blinked. Nicole could see the apprehension in her face. Being in Purgatory wasn’t easy for her, either.

Waverly swallowed. “We didn’t go in, but, maybe… Do you wanna go?”

Wynonna looked at her for a bit, her face drained from any humor or joy. After a moment she nodded one slow, apprehensive nod. “Sure. We can go.”

---

The drive was a little easier this time. Nicole had already taken the same path once before, so she only needed a little bit of guidance from Waverly before the open clearing with the broken-down house appeared. Nicole parked the truck in the middle of the court yard and turned off the ignition. 

She turned to look at Waverly, who was looking straight ahead towards the front door of her old home. “Ready?”

Waverly nodded. “Yeah.”

Nicole clicked off her seatbelt, opened the door and sprung around to help Waverly climb out of the truck. She looked tired, and her hand went straight to her lower back once she was standing on her two feet. 

“You okay?” Nicole asked slowly, so that only she could hear. 

Waverly nodded and nudged her head back towards the truck. Wynonna was still sitting in the narrow backseat, having not moved an inch since they got here. “I should check on her.”

She turned around to her sister, but didn’t let go of Nicole’s hand for support. 

“Wynonna, you wanna come?” Waverly asked, calling in through the open passenger door. 

Wynonna’s eyes flicked to the side, meeting those of her sister. Her eyelids looked heavy, and she too, seemed tired. It was the end of a long weekend.

Wynonna ducked her head and crawled out of the car. Once her boots hit the coarse gravel, she straightened up and brushed the front of her jeans, something she never usually did. Nicole glanced at her. Was she trying to look proper when visiting her childhood home? 

Wynonna cleared her throat and spit on the ground, and with a little nod to herself, she stepped forward, setting a determined pace towards the rickety house as if telling herself “Just fucking go for it”.

Waverly looked from her sister to Nicole and back, unsure of what to do. 

“Go,” Nicole said, nudging her head towards the house. “Follow her. You should do this together.”

Waverly finally let go of the tight grasp on Nicole’s hand, and she moved forward, following her sister. 

The small, wooden porch creaked suspiciously under their feet when they stepped on it. The two sisters came to a halt there, both of them taking deep breaths and preparing themselves for what they were gonna find within. 

Wynonna looked to Waverly by her side, and they braided their fingers together in the small space between them. Waverly said something that Nicole couldn’t hear, and Wynonna answered with a nod, turning again to focus on the door. She reached out a hand and turned the knob. To Nicole’s surprise, the door was unlocked and swung open without resistance. Perhaps there had been visitors here, using the door and making sure the hinges still worked. 

Wynonna stepped inside, and Waverly followed close behind. Nicole leaned back against the truck, giving the sisters time to explore before she joined them. But not a minute later, Waverly peeked her head through the door looking for her. 

“You coming?” she called out.

Nicole obediently stepped forward. The gravel in the yard crunched underneath the sneakers. It took a few moments before she reached her girlfriend, who was waiting with an outstretched hand. 

Waverly recoiled against Nicole’s body as soon as she was close enough. “I need you here,” she whispered.

Nicole reached down to kiss Waverly’s forehead. “Okay.”

They entered.

It was a small living room, littered with dust and junk. There were broken chairs next to an overthrown table, and an old cast-iron stove stood in a corner, not connected to anything. It was a little cooler too, with only dim light coming in through the torn curtains. 

Wynonna was crouching on the floor a little further in, studying something she’d plucked from a small pile of dusted clutter.

“What have you got?” Waverly asked. 

Wynonna held it up for them. “Daddy’s old badge.”

Nicole recognized it as a police badge. Waverly had told her long ago that their father had been the Sheriff. Wynonna brushed her thumb over it, rubbing off the layer of dust it had gathered over the last decade. She stood up and tucked the badge in the front pocket of her jeans without another word. Then she moved further into the house, methodically scanning the interior for relics and keepsakes. 

Waverly went the other way, choosing to go right where Wynonna went left. Nicole followed and found Waverly in a hallway, next to the staircase leading up to a dark landing. She was peering up at a set of simple, homemade-looking windchimes that hung from the slanted ceiling. Waverly reached out her fingers for it and gently prodded at one of the dangly bits. The chimes made a pleasant tinkly sound. 

Following the sound, Wynonna appeared from a door to the side within seconds. She smiled at the sight of Waverly and the chimes, and came to stand next to her. 

“Remember when Mama made these?” Wynonna asked, still with that nostalgic smile, tracing her fingers through the threads. Waverly’s hand had fallen back to her side.

Waverly shrugged and shook her head. Nicole could see her struggling for a bit at the sight of Wynonna’s apparent love for the thing, and suddenly she just took off, walking deeper into the house and choosing a door at the end of the hallway. 

Nicole stared at the doorway where Waverly had disappeared. A faint light flickered on in the room, but Nicole couldn’t make out Waverly’s shape inside from this angle. Deciding to give the girl her space for now, Nicole instead stepped forward to Wynonna and the windchimes. 

“She was four when Mama left,” Wynonna said quietly, answering the silent question in Nicole’s body language. “She just up and moved away.” She shook her head, as if the fact was still unbelievable.

Wynonna’s voice was different than Nicole had ever heard it. Her words were soft and filled with the remnants of a lost childhood. She, too, had trauma related to this house. She, too, had been left by their mother, and had lost her father and sister. 

Nicole had expected her to be more closed off when they got here. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Wynonna had just stormed through the house like an angry hurricane, or demanded her space and for Nicole to leave her the hell alone. But instead, Wynonna was sharing details from the past, and telling small anecdotes from when they had lived in this house. Her voice was calm and gentle, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Nicole looked at the windchimes, studying the colored shards dangling underneath the chimes a little closer. They were uneven pieces of mineral, cut in sharp angles, displaying all the different colors of the rainbow. 

“What is this material?” Nicole asked, gently turning one of the shards with her fingers so that a new shade of red and green glimmered in the light. 

Wynonna raised her shoulders. “Unless you can smoke it, I really wouldn’t know.”

She tapped the chimes once more, making the shards swing softly in tune with the pling-plong sounds. Then she swiftly turned around and went into another room to explore further, clearly done with this particular memory. 

Nicole looked at the chimes until they fell quiet again. Then she turned her gaze towards the room where Waverly had gone, deciding to follow that path. 

As soon as she came close enough to look through the opened door, Nicole could see it was an old bathroom. Once functional, but now dirty and old, with yellowed tiles on the wall and a grimy shower curtain that was ripped on one side. Nicole was pretty sure that only muck-brown water, if anything, would come out if they tried the tap. 

Waverly was standing in front of the sink, staring blankly at the contents of the opened mirror cabinet in front of her. 

Just as Nicole came to stand next to her, eyeing the inside of the cluttered cabinet with old toothbrushes and toiletry products that were carrying long outdated labels, Waverly reached her hand inside and pulled out a dusty bottle of perfume. The amber liquid filled the glass bottle up about halfway. Waverly twirled the bottle between her fingers, watching the motion of the liquid within. 

“What’s this?” Nicole asked, her voice almost a whisper. 

“Shaladelle.”

Waverly closed her eyes and put the top of the bottle right underneath her nose. She inhaled slowly, drawing in the smell of the perfume. 

“It was Mama’s old perfume,” Waverly explained slowly. “Willa loved it best.”

There was pain in her voice as the ghosts of her mother and sister returned to the present. Waverly’s hands were shaking slightly, so Nicole caught them with her own, stabilizing them to prevent the bottle from crashing to the floor. 

Nicole leaned in and kissed the side of Waverly’s head. “Do you remember your mother?”

Waverly shook her head. Her eyes pressed together and her lip started quivering wildly, so Nicole drew her against her chest, cradling Waverly’s head in her hands. 

“We don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, Waves,” Nicole cooed soothingly against Waverly’s hair. “We can just leave, right now, and never come back.”

Waverly shook her head against her, but no words came out. After a minute or so, she drew in a few shuddering gasps and extracted herself from Nicole’s embrace. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her body sagged with grief. And yet, the brave woman shook her head. 

“Not yet,” she hiccoughed, and Nicole nodded. 

They returned to the hallway and the wind chimes. The banging of cabinet doors and the sudden crash of metallic cutlery on the floor told them that Wynonna was in the kitchen. Sure enough, when they peeked through the doorway, she was standing right in the middle of it, with twenty or so knives and forks on the floor behind her. A drawer next to the sink had been drawn out and was lying face down on the floor, leaving a gaping whole in the counter. 

“Oops,” Wynonna said when she caught sight of Waverly and Nicole. 

“What were you looking for?” Waverly asked, walking into the kitchen towards her sister. 

“I dunno, just stuff,” answered Wynonna. She stepped out of the sea of silverware around her, not bothering to pick the cutlery back up. “But I found these.” She pointed at a collection of drawings that she’d laid out on the kitchen table. They were simply drawings, clearly done by a child, featuring people and houses and animals, all in different colors. 

Nicole looked at them. Some of the figures had names attached to them that she read out loud. “Dad, Mom, Willi, Wynonna, me.” 

The one labeled ‘me’ had a pout on its face, while the other four were smiling.

Another drawing had only two figures, and said, ‘Wynonna + me’. Both were smiling this time.

Nicole smiled. “I love them,” she said fondly, tracing the red outline of the figure labeled ‘me’. 

She could feel Waverly stepping up to her side. She put her cheek against Nicole’s shoulder, leaning in. “I loved coloring,” she said, smiling at the drawing of her and her sister. 

They could hear shifting behind them, and the rustle of Wynonna’s leather jacket as she moved on to discover another artifact. “Look, Waverly,” came her awed voice. 

They turned around and found Wynonna tracing her fingers over the side of a wooden support beam. There were markings on the beam, accompanied with scribbled words. 

Wynonna read, “Willa, age ten. Wynonna, age seven.”

Nicole smiled at the item, happy that this simple childhood thing was present in the house. But then Waverly’s voice, cut through, asking, “I’m not on there, am I?”, and Nicole’s heart clenched inside her chest. 

Wynonna didn’t seem to recognize the sorrow in her sister’s voice. “Probably rubbed off,” she answered, unconcerned, while lovingly tracing her thumb over the names. 

“Yeah, that’s what I used to tell myself…”

Waverly swallowed heavily, her throat bobbing up and down with effort. Before Nicole could grab her hand to console her, she had stalked off, leaving Nicole’s side cold and afflicted. This one hurt more than the wind chimes, Nicole could tell, because her insides had suddenly frozen to ice. 

She realized that she had no real idea as to what Waverly’s childhood had been like. Nicole looked back at the beam and tried to imagine a sad, little girl, desperate to understand why her name wasn’t up there.

Waverly’s footsteps sounded from the staircase, going up to the second floor, and Nicole knew she had fled. Away from the beam, away from the sorrow. 

Wynonna was still looking at the beam with a longing smile. Longing for her father and her sister and the little family they had once been. But that family hadn’t been kind to Waverly.

Nicole looked back at the drawings in her hand. A smiling Waverly next to her sister. A sad Waverly surrounded by their other family. Anger started bubbling in Nicole’s chest, until something suddenly burst inside her. Why hadn’t Wynonna been better?

“Why was it like this?” she asked loudly, her knuckles whitening at the edge of the fragile paper. With shaking hands, she put the drawings back on the table to prevent herself from tearing them apart.  

She knew it wasn't her place to demand these answers from Wynonna, especially not in this house. This wasn’t just Waverly’s moment, it was Wynonna’s too, digging up old memories and reminiscing about the loss of their family members. Deep down, Nicole knew that it wasn’t the time and place to remind Wynonna of the hurt in Waverly’s childhood days, but those facts were becoming so increasingly obvious for Nicole, and now she felt like screaming. Screaming for Wynonna to understand. Screaming for her to take charge and do better . 

Wynonna had once threatened her with a shovel if she were to hurt Waverly, and damn it, Nicole would do the same. 

Wynonna turned around, looking at her with a face that didn’t understand. She wasn’t angry yet, because her brain was still halfway focusing on the beam.

“Why did you forget about Waverly?” Nicole asked. “She was part of this family, too, so why didn’t she have her name there?” 

Nicole pointed at the beam, and Wynonna looked back at it, trying to figure out what Nicole was getting at. Nicole expected Wynonna to snap at her, maybe even hit her. She was well aware of her demanding tone, and she was equally aware of Wynonna’s natural defence mechanisms, which usually meant lashing out. 

Nicole watched as Wynonna’s eyebrows inched together, her eyes now shifting focus from the names behind her. She peered dangerously up at Nicole, who stared back with growing agitation. Nicole prepared herself for a smack in the face, but she kept staring, thereby noticing yet another shift in Wynonna’s expression. This time the shift happened behind her eyes, where Nicole could see how words and memories were being processed and molded over, until Wynonna eventually turned back to the beam, this time with a frown instead of a loving gaze. She studied it closer, moving her face up and down to properly read every name. Nicole held her breath while she worked, and after a few tense seconds, Wynonna came to a crushing conclusion.

Waverly’s name wasn’t on there.

“Shit,” Wynonna muttered, all form of combativeness that had been building now completely faded. She pushed herself up with her hands on her knees, turning back to Nicole, who was waiting with fire in her eyes. 

“I-I dunno,” Wynonna tried. “I don’t… We must have forgotten, or…”

She started flailing her hands around, looking for possible explanations, but coming up with none. 

“Everyone left her, Wynonna,” Nicole said through gritted teeth. “ Everyone .” She pointed to the beam again, her outstretched finger quivering somewhat. “They forgot about her. Why ?”

Wynonna shook her head, clearly having no answer. “I left her too,” she muttered. Her eyes glazed over as she realized her own betrayal to her baby sister. “I left her here with Gus and Curtis.”

She shook her head, protesting internally against the harsh realization. But there was no way around it. “It’s not right,” she whispered.

Nicole nodded resolutely. 

Wynonna’s eyes regained their focus, and she looked at Nicole again. Her face was drooping with painful guilt. She had done this too, she had been part of it. And her entire demeanor was affected by it. 

Nicole sighed, finally feeling sorry for the woman in front of her. “Look, Earp,” she said in a lower voice. “I didn’t mean to come at you like that. I’m sorry, okay?”

Wynonna’s head jerked a little, her eyes glassy. 

Nicole continued. “You were just a kid too, alright? And you had your stuff and…” She shrugged, lowering her voice further. “I don’t think she blames you for leaving, not really. But just be there, okay? Just be better.”

Wynonna swallowed, still staring straight ahead at Nicole, but really looking right through her. Her eyes focused suddenly, and purpose returned to them. She nodded. 

“Give me a pen,” Wynonna said. Her voice was a little raspy. 

“What?”

“A pen. I know you have one.” Wynonna held out her hand. 

But Nicole truthfully didn’t carry a pen with her. Not now when she was nearly melting in the heat, and she was wearing as little clothes as she respectably could. Sure, she usually had one with her in the inner pocket of her jacket, but she didn’t have a jacket on right now. 

“I don’t have one.” 

Forming a united front, the two of them started searching through the different drawers in the kitchen, eventually finding a broken pencil. Nicole took some time to sharpen it with a dull knife from a knife block, and held it out to Wynonna. Their eyes connected, and they shared a determined nod. Wynonna turned back towards the beam, and Nicole left her to it, going into the hallway to wait for her girlfriend.

Sure enough, after a minute or so, Waverly’s feet appeared at the top of the stairs again, and she came shuffling down, one step at the time. One hand was holding the banister for support, and the other clutching a stuffed bear against the top of her protruding stomach. Nicole could see the grip tighten a little when Waverly noticed her waiting for her at the end of the stairs. 

“Whatcha got?” Nicole asked with a soft smile once they were on the same level.

Waverly gestured with the bear. “Mr. Plumpkins. It was Willa’s.”

Nicole nodded. She stuck her hand out to touch the stuffed animal, rubbing her fingers over the matted fur on its head. 

“I had no beef with him,” Waverly sighed. 

Nicole chuckled silently and drew Waverly in for a kiss. “You okay?” she asked in a low voice, so that Wynonna wouldn’t hear from the kitchen. 

Waverly shrugged. “I think I’m ready to leave.”

“But first…” Nicole pulled her hand, leading her back to the kitchen. Waverly’s hand tightened a little, hesitant to revisit that room.

Wynonna was there, twirling the pencil nervously between her fingers. She gestured to the beam. “Go stand there,” she said.

Waverly creased her eyebrows. “No. I… What?” 

She looked around at Nicole, but she just nodded. “Come on, baby.”

Waverly handed the bear to Nicole and took a few apprehensive steps forward, towards Wynonna and the beam. 

“Turn around,” Wynonna said. She showed the pencil to indicate the plan. 

Waverly raised an eyebrow. Wynonna waited patiently until Waverly let out a sigh and did what she was told.

“Lift,” Wynonna said, tapping Waverly’s foot. Waverly lifted, and Wynonna slid off the slipper, continuing on to do the same with the other foot. 

Wynonna gently guided her back against the beam, making sure that her heels were tucked properly against the wooden surface. Nicole was impressed with the normalcy Wynonna displayed while doing this. She’d expected to see guilt or redemption, but Wynonna just pretended it wasn’t a big deal at all. She was simply adding a name on a piece of wood. 

Waverly straightened up a bit, and Wynonna expertly put a small mark right over the top of her head. Then Waverly stepped forward again, letting Wynonna finish off the marking with her name and age. It was a small gesture, but not insignificant. 

“Waverly, age eighteen,” Wynonna said. She took a step backwards and grabbed Waverly’s hand. Together, they admired the work. 

The new marking was a sharp contrast to the faded ones. For one, this one was a bit higher up than the others. It had taken too many years to get Waverly’s name on the beam, and Nicole had been angry over it. Angry at Wynonna and the memories of their dysfunctional family. Waverly’s own remorse seemed to have settled a little, however, and her hand found Wynonna’s once again. Maybe she felt more complete now that she, too, was engraved into the woodwork of this old house, next to the names of her sisters. 

“You ready to go?” Wynonna asked after a little while.

Waverly sniffled, but there were no tears on her face. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Yeah. Unless you want to..?”

“I’m good,” Wynonna said, looking away from the faded names on the beam and to her sister’s face. “I got everything I need.” 

“Wynonna?” Waverly asked quietly, peering up at her sister. 

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I wanna come back here.”

Wynonna smiled. “That’s alright.”

The three of them returned to the car in silence. Waverly brought their mother’s perfume and Willa's stuffed bear, and Wynonna had their father’s badge and Waverly’s drawing of the two of them. 

Nicole turned the ignition, expertly turned the car around in the open yard, and then they were off, leaving Purgatory and the homestead behind, once and for all.