Chapter Text
Waverly Earp wondered if there was a limit on the amount of times a person should question their own sanity in a single day. If there was, she was past it. Far, far past it.
The cause wasn’t the herd of children milling about, spastically interacting before their parents could corral them out of the school auditorium. Nor was it the ever growing to-do list associated with the project she’d thought was a great idea to volunteer for. No, it was the pair of eyes that blinked back at her expectantly, looking for a desired response. Parents, or in this case, one parent in particular. She’d forgotten how absurd parents of small humans could be. Especially when it came to the cut-throat world of pageantry that was a school holiday play.
The balding man in front of her narrowed his eyes, as if he wasn’t getting the response he wanted fast enough. “I just think a tree would be a bit more...” He struggled to find a word, one Waverly suspected would raise her blood pressure. He finally settled on something, rolling his wrist with the rest of his statement. “Appropriate for a boy? Being a star just seems so–” in lieu of finishing the sentence he wiggled his fingers in what Waverly assumed was supposed to be jazz hands.
She resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. This ridiculous conversation wasn’t the first of the night to occur after she handed out the role assignments. If it was, maybe she would have more patience for the absurdity of it. Maybe. But it wasn’t the first, and she was darn well ready for it to be the last. She had a meeting due to start any moment, and the latest trivial parental meltdown was not going to delay it.
“Mr. Smith. Donald, is it?” She asked, reminding herself to smile through the whole interaction, even if it killed her. He nodded in confirmation. “Sam volunteered to be a Star, he’s really excited about it. In fact, two of his best buddies in class are also going to be Stars, so I think it might actually be a great bonding experience for the little dudes.” It took every ounce of her self control to not add that stars and trees and the like don’t even have genders, but the last thing she wanted was to extend the ridiculous conversation. Instead, she took the path most likely to appease.
Mrs. Smith picked the perfect time to interject, placing a hand on the man’s arm to squeeze gently. “She’s right, honey. Sam already asked if the boys can come over this weekend to practice.” She shot Waverly an apologetic look that her husband didn’t catch. “And he wants to have a snowball fight when they’re done, which I said was perfectly fine.”
Mr. Smith took a moment to mull it over before finally nodding his head, probably placated by the thought of the snowball fight. Nothing like throwing icy cold projectiles at each other to ensure one retains their manhood, Waverly mocked in her head.
By the time the last kid was ushered out by his harried parent, Waverly was ready to call it a day. She still had one more meeting to get through first, but good god, she was looking forward to her Wednesday night drink at Shorty’s with Wynonna.
As if conjuring up her sister with the very thought, Wynonna strode past the open doors of the auditorium. She came to a halt when she reached the second set of open doors, as if she could feel Waverly’s questioning eyes on here. “No time to talk, baby girl, gotta go put out a munchkin fire. I’ll swing back by when I’m done.” She directed at Waverly, before moving past the doors and out of sight.
Waverly furrowed her brow in concern. Alice hadn’t been present for the first meeting, but that was expected. A perk of being related to the show-runner, she already knew what holiday item she was impersonating on stage in a couple weeks. Not that Waverly would ever admit to favoritism, but if her niece wanted to dance her heart out as a candy cane for Christmas, then that’s what she got, even if it caused her mother to flop on the couch in protest at the idea. The reaction was in protest of figuring out how to make a candy cane costume, which gave Waverly a good laugh. Like she wasn’t the one who would do the majority of the costume prep.
When Jeremy bustled in through a set of the double doors, decidedly not the person she had her meeting with, Waverly wondered who else was going to parade through before this day would end.
“Your sister knows this is an elementary school, right?” He asked, eyebrows drawn down.
“Uh, yeah, last time I checked. Why?” Waverly answered, having no clue where the conversation was going. She picked up her jacket from where it was draped over a folded up auditorium chair to dig around the pockets for her chapstick.
“Because she just asked me if the substance on my shirt was–” he cut himself off, pointing at the gelatinous glob on the front left shoulder of his shirt before waving his hands around, trying to find the right thing to say. “Something completely inappropriate for the halls of a child’s center of learning!” He finally finished.
Waverly bit down on the inside of her cheek. She could guess exactly what Wynonna said, and, well, she could kind of see where she was coming from. If she didn’t already know Jeremy’s penchant for conducting crazy science experiments with his classes that often left him stained with unidentifiable material, she might wonder herself. Not that she would ever say something that inappropriate within the walls of her school. “It’s hard to stop Wynonna from being all Wynonna, but I’ll ask her if she can PG it up a bit when she’s here.” She finally located her chapstick in the bottom of a jacket pocket and pulled it out with a victorious noise. She applied it heartily, cursing the cold weather for making it necessary.
Jeremy sighed, the frenetic energy leaving his body as his shoulders returned to their normal position.
Waverly put the top back on the chapstick with a click, pointing at Jeremy’s shoulder. “So what caused the mess today?”
His eyes lit up at the question. Waverly found his excitement over the experiments he did with his class adorable. They both were in their third year teaching at Purgatory Elementary, becoming fast friends almost immediately. Waverly, being the local kid who stayed put to teach the next generation, had helped Jeremy along his way to fit in to the small town dynamics. At first, his hands on teaching style was met with resistance by the parents, who had grown accustomed to old Mrs. Dobson’s teaching methods over the past thirty-five years. If you could call droning on from a text book and using slides and the occasional old Nova episode played on what Waverly assumed was the last remaining VCR in existence a teaching method. It was no wonder most of Mrs. Dobson’s progress reports sent home mentioned unruly children with difficulty paying attention or staying on task. Her science classes were boring. And Waverly would know, she’d had her as a teacher herself years ago. But now there was excitement amongst the students around science again. Every time Waverly heard a young voice in the hall recounting how Mr. Chetri had fallen on his face in the mud to catch a frog during their outdoor class today, or that Mr. Chetri had caused the biggest smoke cloud ever in class, she smiled so big and felt a little more optimistic for the future of these kids.
She’d like to think she was playing her part too. As a History teacher, a lot of people assumed her job was to recite facts and write dates on a chalkboard, but she was never going to be that kind of teacher. She prided herself on hearing from parents how their kids came home excited about whatever pocket of history they’d discovered that day.
In the midst of Jeremy’s story about teaching his class to make homemade goo, a throat cleared from behind them. Waverly startled at the sound, dropping her chapstick before it could make its way back into her jacket pocket. She watched it roll the distance down the sloped center aisle of the auditorium towards the stage, where it came to a stop underneath the toe of a boot that purposefully halted its progress.
Jeremy made a quiet sort of strangled noise in his throat that only Waverly could hear, and it’s not hard for her to guess why when she sees the man who rescued her runaway chapstick. His mustache alone would cause a reaction, whether of lust or envy was up to the beholder. He wore a knit winter hat over hair Waverly could tell was dark and shiny, based on the locks that spilled out to chin-length. His Carhartt jacket was open, revealing a dark blue and green flannel underneath. She would have expected work boots on someone dressed in such attire, but he somehow pulled off well-worn cowboy style boots with the whole ensemble. One peak at Jeremy told Waverly he was just staring at the stranger, and she could definitely understand the appeal. Who wouldn’t find the whole lumberjack cowboy combo thing appealing?
The man reached down, pulling the chapstick from underneath his boot, and straightened up with a smile that revealed deep dimples. “Pardon me, miss, but I do believe this is yours?” His voice was low and gravelly.
Jeremy muttered something beside her, and Waverly tried to subtly smack him in the arm, though she was pretty sure the man saw it, if the way his eyes twinkled and his dimples deepened were anything to go by.
“It is, thank you.” Waverly responded, stepping forward to meet him down the aisle. “You must be the owner of Haught’s Tree Farm.” Considering his garb, and the appointment in her calendar, she didn’t think she was going too far out on a limb with the assumption. She mentally high fived herself for the pun. “I’m sorry, Principal Nedley didn’t give me a name to go with the business.” She kicked herself again for neglecting to do her normal level of research and preparation before the meeting.
A sparkle of humor appeared in his blue eyes before he spoke. “The name’s Doc. Doc Holliday. And I’m sorry to say, I’m just the hired help.” He winked at her, softening the blow of her incorrect assumption. His eyes darted over her shoulder, his chin jerking in the direction. “Here comes the boss now.”
Waverly wasn’t exactly sure the situation called for his level of amusement, but she turned with a shrug. It didn’t really matter who the boss was, she was ready to get this meeting over with and finally end the work day that would not end.
The train of her thoughts came to a screeching halt. An equal mix of embarrassment and curiosity took over as she watched the owner stroll down the aisle, jacket draped over an arm, beanie clutched in hand as she took in the space of the auditorium. Her eyes locked on the trio of them, and then just Waverly, as she came to a stop. A smile spread across her face, and Waverly noted the dimples flashing in her cheeks and distantly wondered if the dimples was a prerequisite for working on a tree farm. Probably didn’t hurt when trying to sell goods to the public. “You must be Waverly Earp.”
“That’s me.” Waverly responded, putting on her automatic smile, a hazard of a few too many parent teacher conferences. She took the hand offered to her for a shake, and she couldn’t help but notice how soft and warm if felt. Not what she would have expected for someone in that particular line of work.
“I’m Nicole Haught.”
Waverly liked the name, found it pretty, and, well, a little accurate, but figured that was neither here nor there. “Nice to meet you, Nicole.” The corner of Nicole’s mouth twitched, one of her dimples deepening. Waverly wasn’t quite sure what the reaction was for, but she was saved from dwelling on it when Nicole turned her attention to Doc.
“I see you’ve already met my right hand man.” An amused glint took over her brown eyes. “Let me guess, they thought you were the owner?” She said it out of the side of her mouth, as if she murmured it just to Doc, and while Waverly was slightly mortified, the humor of the moment lessened some of it. She must have noticed some of Waverly’s discomfort, because her face softened as she spoke. “Don’t worry, happens all the time.” She introduced herself to Jeremy, who made it clear he was not Waverly’s right hand man, just a friend thank you very much, and Waverly was somewhat amused at how both Doc and Nicole seem to take the weirdness in stride.
Once formalities were over, Nicole tossed her coat and hat over a folded up auditorium chair before clapping her hands together once. “So, Christmas trees. What do you need? What’s the vision?” She strolled a few more steps down the aisle.
Waverly blinked a few times, staring after her as her mind adjusted to the quick change in conversation. At the heart of things, they were having a business meeting, after all. She moved down the aisle to join Nicole, Doc and Jeremy following behind. Waverly couldn’t help be amused at how Jeremy seemed to stay close to Doc’s side, even though he had nothing to do with the play or the meeting. She was going to give him a slap in the shoulder later though, while she reminded him that he did, in fact, have a boyfriend.
She turned her attention back to Nicole. “We’re thinking three trees on each side of the stage, kind of diagonal, like this.” She turned her hand sideways and at an angle, holding it up to the stage to show the line she could see in her head. Nicole nodded, reaching for her back pocket to pull out a notebook. It was tiny and dog-eared, clearly used quite a bit. She patted around the front chest pockets on her green and red striped flannel, making a small sound of victory when she located the one that held a tiny pencil in it. Flipping past pages of what looked like indecipherable scribbles, she found a blank page and started writing. At the continued silence her eyes flit up to Waverly’s and held there for a moment, before her eyebrows quirked up ever so slightly. “Go on, I’m listening.”
“Oh, right, sorry.” Waverly said as she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. She noticed again how Nicole gave her a small smile to alleviate any discomfort in the moment. “Uh, for those trees, I’m thinking maybe seven feet tall?”
Nicole squinted at the stage, as if she could see the set up in her own head as well, then turned to look at the back of the auditorium. She pointed the end of her stub pencil that way. “From back there, seven feet will seem pretty small. Maybe ten feet would give a better look.”
Waverly nodded. She could see the point. “Okay, ten feet it is. I like it.” She watched as Nicole scribbled another note down, waiting for her to look up before continuing. “But then, in the middle, I’m thinking the pier-de-resistance. A tree that will really wow.” She held her hands out, palms facing the stage, resisting the urge to wiggle her fingers, because that would probably be taking things a bit to far. “But I’m not sure how big your trees are.”
“Oh, they’re plenty big.” Doc spoke from behind them, startling Waverly a bit. She had almost forgotten he and Jeremy were there.
Nicole poked her tongue into a cheek at his comment, shooting him an eyebrow raise. He just wiggled his eyebrows back at her, and Waverly wondered for a moment at the nature of their relationship. Not that it was any of her business.
“A show stopper, huh?” Nicole took slow, deliberate steps forward, eyes fixed on the back of the stage. She dropped her notebook and pencil on the lip of the stage when she reached out, and without a moment of hesitation she planted her hands on the end and hoisted herself up, the rolled up sleeves of her flannel allowing the muscles of her forearms to show with the movement. She flawlessly executed the move, and Waverly was a little envious at the height that allowed her to make the hop up onto the stage look so graceful.
“Too good for stairs now, are we?” Doc joked, choosing to take the normal route to the top of the stage, via the stairs on the side.
“Huh?” Nicole looked back at him, the comment clearly taking a moment to land. When it did she just shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Who has time for that kind of formality?”
Jeremy, who followed closely behind Waverly up the stairs, leaned in and murmured “Are these people even real?” She gave him what she hoped was a subtle swat, thankful when she avoided the goo still prominent on his shoulder.
By the time they made it to the middle of the stage Nicole was nodding, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Yeah, we can make it work. I can definitely find a tree to fit the space.” She strolled back to the front of the stage to retrieve her abandoned notebook and pencil, jotting down another note.
“Oh my god, please tell me it’s time for a damn drink.” Wynonna’s voice cut through the auditorium. She came to an abrupt halt at the stairs of the stage when she noticed the four sets of eyes fixed on her. “Woah, that is like, way more people than when I walked by before.”
Waverly jumped into action as Wynonna climbed the stairs to join them, eager to dissipate any awkwardness. “We’re having a meeting about the trees we need for the holiday party.” She waved a hand at the new additions to the group. “This is Nicole and Doc, from the tree farm that’s supplying the trees this year.” Could she say tree more times? She really needed to work on her coolness.
Wynonna eyed Nicole and Doc. “Tree farm, huh? So many jokes, not enough time.” She muttered, though at a volume the whole room could hear.
“And this is my sister Wynonna, who–” Waverly’s brow crinkled as she spun back to Wynonna. “Wait, why are you here? Did Gus cancel tonight?”
Wynonna grimaced. “Oh no, Gus is here, picking up the munchkin. I’m here because I had the unexpected pleasure of a meeting with Principal Nedley about my unruly hell-span.”
The other people in the room faded from Waverly’s attention as concern took over. “Is Alice okay?”
Wynonna waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh yeah, she’s aces. That little punk Evan Harker tried telling her boys are cooler than girls, so she told him he was a stupid jerk and gave him a little shove.” She grins at Waverly. “Clearly she got the stupid jerk part from you, because we both know I would have used much more colorful language.”
“Oh boy. What’s the punishment going to be?” Waverly asked, ready to adhere to whatever guidelines Wynonna set, only to be reminded that she really should know better.
“From me?” Wynonna places a hand on her chest, shaking he head. “No punishment necessary. I gave her a high five and congratulated her on telling it like it is.” She took in the faces around the room. “What?” A sigh and roll of her eyes followed. “Don’t worry, Principal Nedley made it clear that fighting and shoving will not be tolerated in his school, because, and I quote, Only hooligans resort to such behavior. He actually said that, you guys.” She addressed the whole room, as if they were all old friends. “Anyway, Gus is bringing her home now for their Wednesday night dinner and Great Auntie time.”
Waverly nodded, trying to process the whole thing. She realized Nicole and Doc might be annoyed at the sudden veer off track for their meeting, and was ready to apologize for their wasted time, but it seemed they were rather amused by it all, if the expressions on their faces were anything to go by.
“She seems like a rather spirited little girl. You must be proud.” Doc said to Wynonna. The lopsided smile and crinkle to his eyes gave him a charm that Waverly figured must be appealing to a lot people. The way Wynonna chuckled at his response indicated she was one of them.
Waverly caught the tail end of an eye roll from Nicole, and she found she rather liked the reaction. It was one she herself had countless times over the years.
A throat cleared from the wings of the stage, Principal Nedley ambling his way toward them. “Pardon the interruption.” He sighed.
“What did my hellion do now? Single handedly dismantle the Patriarchy?” Wynonna asked, eyes narrowed.
Nedley gave her the closest thing to a side eye Waverly had ever seen him give. “I’m afraid not. She’ll have to try that another day, she’s gone with Gus.” His voice was stern and dry, but Waverly caught just the smallest glimpse of pride and humor. She was quite sure Principal Nedley actually had a bit of a soft spot for Alice, and if she squinted just right, that affection might actually extend to Wynonna. He rubbed at the back of his neck, singling Waverly out with his gaze. “I just got a phone call from Curtis. Turns out, he’s come down with a case of the chicken pox, so we can’t let him within a country mile of the school.”
Waverly stared at him as she tried to comprehend the words. Curtis had been volunteering for years to build the sets for the school plays and musicals, including the Holiday Spectacular. He was a carpenter by trade, and his skills were indispensable over the years. Not to mention how useful it was that he was now partially retired and had plenty of time to give. “Oh.” Waverly stated flatly. “Okay.” She continued, brain scrambling to figure out an alternative, but seeing the Play go down in flames right before her eyes. “I guess...maybe we don’t need sets?” She tried, but right away it was clear Nedley wasn’t going for it.
“Purgatory Elementary has put on one heck of a Holiday Spectacular for years now. Parents come to see their pride and joys dance around a stage that we are not going to leave bare of sets and decorations. Not on my watch.” He looked grim, which Waverly found a bit of an overreaction, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. He scratched at his cheek. “I could mandate a teacher or two to help you out.”
The situation wasn’t ideal, but Waverly was going to have to make do. The story of her life, really. She puffed out her cheeks, shaking her head as she stared off into the middle distance. “Okay, we’ll make it work. Somehow.” She finished lamely.
“We could help.”
Every head in the room swiveled to Nicole, who looked rather surprised that she had spoken the words out loud. She recovered quickly enough. “If you needed it, we could help.”
“Who, prey tell, is we, exactly?” Doc asked, not looking entirely amused with the development. Nicole fixed him with a look that wasn’t entirely discernible, but it was steady, and after an awkward moment Doc cleared his throat. “I mean, we would love to help you with your Spectacular, in any way you need. During holiday season. When we are not plying our trades at the tree farm.” He finished, giving Nicole a look of his own.
Waverly spun towards Nicole. It was clear Doc had reservations, and Waverly understood them, yet she couldn’t help but feel hopeful. “Would you really be able to help?” She should leave it there, but something about the situation had her babbling. “I know you must be crazy busy this time of year, I can’t even imagine. But, if you could help, that would be amazing. I’m not even going to pretend it wouldn’t be huge.” She stopped, feeling heat on her cheeks.
The corners of Nicole’s lips quirked up. She gave Waverly a curious look, and for a moment, it felt to Waverly like they were the only two people in the room. The moment was just shy of unsettling before Nicole finally looked away, shrugging as her eyes wandered around the room. “Well, yeah, we should be able to make it work. I’m pretty handy with tools, when needed.”
“I’ll bet.” Wynonna coughed behind a balled up fist. Nicole gave her an unimpressed look. It was Wynonna’s turn to shrug. “What? Low hanging fruit.”
A half grin formed on Nicole’s face. “Fair enough. But back to the point, yeah we’d be happy to help.” She singled Nedley out. “If that would be okay with you, sir.”
Waverly tipped an imaginary cap at her for that little touch. It appeared Principal Nedley did as well, as he stood up just a tad straighter and his shoulders puffed up a bit. “No ‘Sir’ necessary, Nedley is just fine. And I think that would be mighty generous of you. We could certainly use the help.”
“We? You going to wield some power tools this year, Nedley?” Wynonna ribbed.
Nedley narrowed his eyes at her. “You know, we’re always looking for parent volunteers for stuff like this. My memory is getting a little rusty, remind me, when was the last time you put in some time at your daughter’s school?”
Wynonna opened her mouth to give what Waverly was sure would be a smartass response, but shut her mouth again when she noticed the five sets of questioning eyes directed at her. She sighed deeply, the put-upon she felt on full display. “Fine.” She threw her hands out to the side. “I’ll show up and hammer some shit.” She had the audacity to wink at Waverly.
“Woah, woah, language.” Nedley growled at her, missing the eyeroll he got in response when he turned his attention back to Waverly. “It’s settled then. The tree people will help, your sister will show up, and I’ll rassle up a teacher or two to give you hand.” He gave Jeremy a pointed look.
Waverly didn’t miss the way Jeremy eyed Doc before responding. “Uh, you know, I could probably put in some time.” He clapped Waverly awkwardly on the shoulder. “Anything for my buddy, Waverly. Because we are tight.” He bumped his own fists together.
“Right.” Nedley answered dryly. “Okay then, I’m going to leave you all to it. I’ve got a new season of NCIS waiting for me at home on Netflix.” He ambled off the stage. “What kind of grown man gets chicken pox?” He muttered to himself as he ducked out into the hallway.
“Well, this has been about as fun as waiting on test results at an STD clinic, not that I would know anything thing about that.” Wynonna amended. “But I’m gonna go before all these shenanigans tire a gal out.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Catch you later, sis.” She beat such a hasty retreat Waverly didn’t even have time to respond.
“Your sister, she is quite the character.” Doc mused.
Waverly hummed in agreement as she watched Wynonna leave. “That is certainly a thing people say about her.” Among many, many other things, Waverly thought to herself, feeling a bit envious at Wynonna’s ability to cut out of a situation at a moment’s notice. She wished she had that kind of gall, but alas, being the town sweetheart required a bit more finesse.
A quick glance at the clock reminded her exactly how late it was, and she decided it was time to use said finesse to get out of there as quickly, yet politely as possible, because she could still really use a drink.
*****
“Do you ever feel like something’s missing? Like, even when life is pretty great, there’s something just beyond your grasp?” Waverly stirred the drink in front of her, watching the ice cubes swirl around.
Wynonna snapped her fingers in front of Waverly’s face. “Were you drinking at work? Half of one drink is not nearly enough to cause an existential crisis of this level.”
Waverly furrowed her brow as she looked up into Wynonna’s steady gaze. “I would never drink at work.” She answered seriously. She got a swat on her shoulder in response.
“Dude, I know that, lighten up.” Wynonna sipped on her beer, eyeing Waverly as she did so. “What brought this on?”
Waverly sighed, struggling to put into words what she’d been feeling lately. “I don’t know. I love my job. Most of the time.” She amended. “I love my life with you and Alice, getting to be there to watch my niece grow up. I have friends, a social life, the town sweetheart label.” Wynonna gagged at that. “There’s nothing wrong with being nice to people.” She responded dryly.
“Maybe not, but according to you, there is something wrong with your life.”
“No! There’s nothing wrong, per se, there’s just something–”
“Missing.” Wynonna supplied.
Waverly nodded, unsure if she could get any more clear than that.
“When’s the last time you got laid?”
Waverly choked on her drink, spitting an ice cube back into the glass. “Wynonna?!” She hissed, looking around to ensure no one was listening in on their conversation.
For her part, Wynonna did not look like she’d asked a highly inappropriate question. “What? It’s a fair question. Stop freaking out, no one is paying attention, besides Rosita who I know hears everything.” She raised her voice enough to catch the bartender’s attention.
Rosita tossed the towel she was using to wipe down glassware with over her shoulder and moved down until she stood across the bar from them. “What’s the deal?” She asked.
Wynonna pointed at Waverly. “Waves here says she feels like something is missing, but she can’t quite put her finger on it. So I naturally asked when the last time she got laid was.”
“Ah.” Rosita responded evenly, looking at Waverly expectantly like a barkeep with an ear available for problems.
“Wait.” Waverly looked between the two of them. “Are you serious?” She scoffed. “I’m not feeling out of sorts because I haven’t gotten my rocks off recently. I’m perfectly capable of finding someone for that when I need to. Give me a little credit.”
“Says the girl who let Champ Hardy help her get said rocks off more than once. He is so far beneath you.” Wynonna gagged.
Waverly pushed her tongue into her cheek. “Hey, sometimes you just need a warm body underneath you, if you know what I’m saying?”
“Gross.” Rosita and Wynonna responded at the same time.
“Et tu, Brutus?” Waverly raised her glass to Rosita, who held her hands up in apology.
“Look, girlfriend, it ain’t no thang if a girl wants to use whatever body is available to take care of business. I’m just saying, you could do better in that department.”
Waverly gestured around the room with her glass. “It’s not like Purgatory is exactly crawling with a ton of quality options.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Rosita admitted, her eyes darting to the door taking in whatever new clientele had entered. “Although, you just never know when one might come strolling along.”
Waverly and Wynonna spun on the stools to see what held Rosita’s attention, and Waverly found herself choking on her drink for the second time in an alarmingly short period of time.
“Well fancy running into you here.” Doc greeted them as he took the two steps down to the bar area, pulling off his hat. Nicole was on his heels, a tentative smile on her lips.
Recovered from her drinking woes, Waverly greeted them. “Doc. Nicole.” She caught the way Nicole’s lips quirked again. She was curious about the action, for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I don’t think we’ve ever seen you in here before.” She realized what the statement might sound like and pushed on to try to smooth it over. “Not that we’re in here a lot. Wouldn’t want to give a bad impression to the parents of my students, you know? A normal amount of drinking is how we roll.”
Wynonna clinked her glass to Waverly’s. “Cheers to that incredibly weird tangent.”
Luckily, Rosita interjected, asking for their drink orders the way a bartender is want to do. While they waited for their drinks, Doc and Wynonna started talking about their favorite whiskeys, which also kind of looked like arguing, but hey, Waverly knew how passionate her sister was when it came to brown liquor.
Nicole rested her forearms on the edge of the bar next to Waverly, looking around. “Never been in this place. Which, incidentally, is why you’ve never seen us here.” She rolled her lips in, her eyes dancing in a way that said she was amused by Waverly’s prior little run on.
“Wow. Shorty’s is like, an institution in this town. At least half the town gossip is generated right from this very place.” Waverly knocked on the bar, noting the curious gazes the locals were throwing their way. “Which, given the looks we’re getting, you and Doc might find yourselves at the center of soon. Curiosity about the newcomers and all.”
Nicole chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed. Hazard of moving to a small town area. Not my first rodeo with that, though, so I think I can take it. Hopefully some of their curiosity takes them out to the farm in the next few weeks to a buy a tree.” She nodded as Rosita slid her beer in front of her, reaching for her back pocket, but Waverly placed a gentle hand on her arm.
“I’ve got it. Least I can do for my newest volunteers.”
Nicole hesitated for just a moment, her eyes flickering down to Waverly’s hand pulling away from her arm before she relented with a nod. “Plying your workers with alcohol? I think Doc is going to be singing a very happy tune about this arrangement.” One side of her mouth pulled up into a smile before she took a sip of her beer.
“How is business?” Waverly asked, genuinely curious. She spun her stool to face Nicole better. It put them close, maybe closer than Waverly intended, but she thought it would draw more attention to the fact if she moved again to put more space in between them. But it didn’t seem to bother Nicole. She turned herself more towards Waverly, leaning a single elbow on the bar and using her other hand to run her fingers through her hair as she spoke.
“It’s been pretty good, picking up a little more each day. We’re preparing for the onslaught this weekend. Three weeks out seems to be when everyone comes out of the woodwork for a tree. Pun intended.” She smiled.
“Pun accepted.” Waverly lifted her glass a bit in acknowledgement. “So how come I haven’t seen you around until now? You bought the place before last Christmas, didn’t you?” Nicole froze with her glass halfway to her lips, the question clear on her face. “Small town, remember? Word moved around in less than a day that the Millers sold their farm. Probably for the best, given what I heard over the last couple years.”
“And yet you thought Doc was the owner?” Nicole teased.
Waverly felt a tinge of heat in her cheeks as she shrugged it off. Shrugged. “I hear the gossip, but I don’t really get involved in it, easy to miss the details sometimes.”
“Fair enough.” Nicole nodded, pushing her lips out in thought as she rolled the pint glass in her hands. “The farm was in pretty rough shape, so that took up all of my focus the first couple months. Then came the Christmas season, and that was rocking. After we recovered, I was figuring out the set-up, seeing what we could improve on for this year, really honing my vision for the place.” She had a far-off look on her face, and Waverly suspected she could see that vision as they spoke. It seemed like the vision might be rather picturesque, or maybe that was just Nicole’s face in general, hard for Waverly to discern. When her smile stretched wide and her dimples deepened Waverly decided it was definitely her face. “Do you have your tree yet?”
“Hmm?” Waverly asked, inexplicably finding herself not up to date in the conversation. Luckily, Nicole didn’t seem fazed by it.
“Your Christmas tree, do you have it yet? Assuming you celebrate Christmas, of course.” She added.
“Oh, we do, and no, we don’t.”
Nicole furrowed her brow. “You have a Christmas tree, but you don’t celebrate Christmas? Or you do celebrate it, but you don’t have a tree yet?”
“That one.” Waverly pointed at her. “We are woefully treeless at the moment, but inclined to get our holiday fa la la on.”
The corners of Nicole’s lips quirked up again, and Waverly decided she liked the reaction. “We as in you and your boyfriend or husband? Or do you have roommates?” Nicole asked, eyes looking out across the bar as she took another sip from her beer.
Waverly snorted. “Oh, I have roommates, alright.” For the first time in the last few minutes she was aware of Wynonna and Doc next to them. She jerked her head in their direction. “This one and a far too precocious seven year old niece keep me on my toes.”
“Ah. So you live with your sister and niece.”
“Mhmm. Nary a boyfriend or husband in sight at the moment.” Waverly wasn’t exactly sure why she felt the need to make that clear, but the way Nicole visibly swallowed at the statement was fascinating.
Her eyes were off looking across the bar again as she finished her beer. “Well, you guys should come by, check out what we have going on. Maybe you’ll find a tree.”
Waverly nodded at the invite. At its core, it was a business owner inviting customers, yet somehow, it felt kind of sweet.
“You are the most stubborn mule I have ever met!” Waverly flinched at Doc’s raised voice behind them. She spun in her chair to watch the exchange.
“Impossible, surely you’ve looked in a mirror before.” Wynonna bit back. They stared at each other, jaws tense as the seconds ticked by. Finally, they both broke out into laughter. They clinked their now empty glasses together. “To being a couple of stubborn assholes.” Wynonna said.
Waverly shook her head, perpetually at a loss for the way Wynonna interacted with the world.
“Can we interest you ladies in another round and a game of pool?” Doc asked. Waverly looked down at the watch on her wrist, noting the time. Wynonna saved her the trouble of the decline, jerking a thumb in her direction.
“This one has a strict one drink limit on weeknights. Apparently it’s an unfortunate requirement when you have to be up early to deal with a horde of trolls every day.”
“Wynonna, you birthed one of those trolls.” Waverly reminded her.
“Yeah, but at least my troll is cool. Let’s you sleep in on the weekend.” She tilted her empty glass towards Doc. “We’ll take a rain check though.”
“Fair enough.” Doc told her as he slid his empty glass onto the bar and signaled to Rosita he and Nicole would take another round.
Waverly settled up with Rosita when she came back with the drinks. Something that felt vaguely like disappointment tugged at her gut as she gathered her jacket and purse and prepared to say goodbye. She shook it off as a symptom of a long, draining day.
“Hey.” Waverly snagged Nicole’s attention before she left. “Thanks for the invite, I think we might pop by some time.” She’d have to talk to Wynonna about it of course, but considering she’d been complaining about the Charlie Brown trees at the Civic Club tree lot the last couple years, she figured it wouldn’t be a hard sell.
The smile Nicole gave her was slow, and god, Waverly thought, those dimples really were something. “Sounds good. See you Wednesday, right?”
Waverly nodded, confirming the plans they made earlier to start set construction. She gave a small wave goodbye and watched as Nicole followed Doc over to the pool table.
“Hey, Waverly.” Rosita caught her attention as she wrapped her scarf around her neck in a pointless attempt to ward off the cold outside. “Keep your eyes open. For that thing that’s missing? You never know when you’re going to find it.” She turned her attention to wiping down the bar and clearing their glasses, apparently done imparting her cryptic wisdom for the evening.
It was a weird segue, and one Waverly wondered about for more than a few minutes after leaving the bar that night.