Ainsley Millers sat on the porch, watching Stan, their Golden Retriever, frolic across the yard. Damp scented the air; the morning dew tickled the hairs on her arms. She held a steaming mug in both hands full of Earl Grey, black. Their well-meaning dope of a dog trotted over pleased as punch.

“Having a good time, sweet baby boy?” Ainsley set her mug down to indulge in ruffling Stan’s neck fur.

She smiled to herself as Stan caught a new scent, taking off once again. The dawn air was crisp, nipping at her skin. Sunshine warmed her arms in specks through the full foliage. It was a beautiful start to a new day. Ainsley’s gut tightened, while she relived last night’s confrontation. Now, there was this morning’s complication to contend with.

The three had been together for several years now. Of course, with all that time they had argued. Last night was a different kind of argument. The gravity of it still reverberated in her bones. It had been so simple when they’d first met.

Ainsley’s friend had insisted that she join her foodie group for a trip. They’d driven from their home of Oakridge to Portland. It had been a long trip, but they did arrive for their long weekend vacation. The group had been in a frenzy over the upcoming Scooperbowl, an all-you-can-eat ice cream festival. Ainsley was an outgoing person, but she preferred her weekends to herself. She’d only come along because her friend was an expert at guilt-trips.

The first time Noah and Ainsley locked eyes, it was an instant sizzle. Noah stood around 6’0”, with honey-brown eyes and thick brown hair. Ainsley had never been attracted to a man until she’d met Noah. She was fascinated by this anomaly of a person. He presented her with smooth words and generous laughter, and she had no choice but to accept.

“You have a bit of an accent; did you move from somewhere else?” Ainsley sipped at her drink as she looked over the throngs of people.

“I moved from Japan, actually. I know, it’s hard to believe. I look a lot more Chinese than Japanese,” Noah’s full lips stretched into a wide, cheeky grin.

“Oh my god, what do you expect me to say to that? I’m way too American to say anything tactful,” she laughed with gusto, slapping Noah on the arm.

Bark! Stan’s telltale whining bark had Ainsley’s head whipping over to face him. Stan was on the losing end of an old western standoff with a squirrel. Ainsley shook her head and rolled her eyes. Her dunce of a dog had been terrified of squirrels since he was a puppy. At least he didn’t immediately release his bowels anymore when he saw one.

“Stan, baby, it’s fine, it’s only a squirrel,” she called over.

Her lips quirked when she saw Stan’s tail slip from between his legs to give a few tentative wags. She felt a furry nudge at her elbow and looked over to the attention seeker. Miss Pretty, their big black Maine Coon, sat to her left, drooling purrs as she scent-marked Ainsley’s elbow. Placing the now empty mug down, she scooped up the baby of the family, cradling her. Deep rumbling purrs soothed Ainsley’s heart as she was once again lost to her memories.

The two had kept in touch since they’d first met. Noah was her best friend. They’d spent a year making weekend trips and texting daily before he’d moved to Oakridge for a year.

They were now unpacking in Crescent City, California. After two years, neither of them had made any headway in their respective arts and so they’d decided on a fresh start. Ainsley was a painter. Noah was a photographer.

“I saw the strangest looking tree on the drive, about a block away. I’m gonna go snap some shots of it,” Noah waved his camera at Ainsley.

She was going to reply, but he was gone with a slam of the door. Well, she understood the need to create. She couldn’t fault him for a bit of carelessness.

“Mornin’, babe,” Noah’s voice floated from inside the screen door, still too asleep and dazed to recall the fight.

“Morning,” she said, curt.

Miss Pretty let out a yowl, flipping herself from Ainsley’s arms. She hadn’t realized how tight her grip had become on the cat. Sending a silent apology, she crossed her arms, rubbing at the stinging spot where a claw had nicked her shoulder.

Ainsley stood in the café two blocks away from hers and Noah’s apartment. She didn’t drink coffee, and the tea they had here was shit. She’d come because they’d run out of coffee grounds and Noah needed his morning coffee. Ainsley couldn’t say no to him. The scent of coffee was thick, a pungent burning smell lying below it.

Another reason she didn’t frequent this café was because they were so abysmally slow. She was reaching a part of her current painting that she felt great about. The thick oil paints were speaking to her today, and she needed to answer.

The bell above the door chimed, announcing another guest. The woman stood near Noah’s height, lithe and willowy. Her black hair was cropped short, sticking out at odd angles, as if she’d rolled out of bed and come straight here. The woman ordered, and Ainsley struggled to hear her voice over the ambient café sounds. Whirs and clanks overpowered the soft voice of the stranger.

The woman turned and shuffled over to the serving counter, next to Ainsley. As she neared, Ainsley noticed the woman looked ill. Her face was unnaturally pale, her eyes shaded and sunken. She breathed through her mouth, sounding out of breath from the short walk over.

“Are you ok—” Ainsley was about to inquire like any good citizen would do.

Her reward was this striking stranger vomiting all over her front. Oh god. Ainsley chanted in her head as she tried to hold in her own guts. Adrenaline rocketed for no good reason. Ainsley recalled the next few minutes in snapshots only processed later.

She grabbed the stranger’s arm, dragging her out of the shop. Ainsley had not dropped her arm by the time they were outside her apartment building. The next moment, they’re in front of her door and Ainsley is struggling to unlock the door with one hand. Then she’s in her bathroom, the stranger released at some point after the last shot to the next. She leaped into the shower fully clothed, stripping only once she was certain no more vomit was caked to her.

Ainsley stood from the steps, walking through the yard towards the tire swing. Ainsley had never had one as a child, and her partners had surprised her with it. She climbed into it, setting the tree creaking, the tire swaying. Reaching into the pocket of her cardigan, she gripped the plastic stick inside. After the fight last night, Ainsley felt like a fool with this morning’s news.

Pulling it out, she stared at it for a moment before groaning and shoving it right back in. It was most definitely still positive. The third positive this morning, in fact.

“I met her first! I should be able to call dibs!” Ainsley paced; her hands tangled in her hair as she spoke.

“It’s more important what she wants. Whoever she chooses, it shouldn’t be because of some shitty dibs called,” Noah stood at the kitchen island. He was chopping vegetables louder than normal.

“It’s harder for me to meet people! You’re attracted to everybody, I’m only attracted to women,” pace, pace, pace.

“I’d like to remind you that I’ve been just as single as you have since we met,” Noah’s voice remained calm. Though, his actions were jerkier than usual, his shoulders raised with tension.

“You’ve had every opportunity! What about Audrey from the diner? She’s been throwing herself at your feet for ages,” Ainsley came to a stop across the island from Noah, “Or what about Jeff? Any time I see him in the hall he asks about you.”

“I don’t want them!” Noah finally cracked, slamming the knife down to the counter, “I want you and Liza!”

Silence beat thick between them, punctuated by Ainsley blinking at Noah’s reddening face.

“Um, what?” Liza’s voice echoed from the now open front door. The full plastic bags bundled in her hands crinkled sharply.

Noah covered his face with both hands, slowly lowering himself to the floor. Ainsley heard him muttering oaths to god, which struck her with an urge to laugh that she indulged.

“You don’t even believe in god,” she snorted between guffaws, making her way over to him.

“Oh my god, you guys are dorks,” Liza closed the door behind her, setting the bags down and slipping her shoes off, “So what’s this I hear about wanting?”

Ainsley wanted to reply, but she was busy with a hand on Noah’s shoulder while crying from helpless laughter. Liza made her own way over, sitting on Noah’s other side, leaning up against the cupboard, grinning wide.

“Ainsley!” Liza’s haggard morning croak stretched from inside, alarm thickening her voice. Ainsley felt a stab in her gut.

The three lay in the back of their shared pick-up, staring up at the stars. Their hands were linked, their bodies curled together in the summer night silence. It was Ainsley’s favourite weekend tradition.

“Ainsley Leanne Millers, you come here right now!” Liza’s voice grew stronger, alarm turning to panicked rage. Ainsley carefully extracted herself out of the tire swing.

Walking up the drive of their new home, Ainsley felt her shoulders sag in relief. It had been a long move, and finally it was over. The first step was unloading the animals. The cat and dog took off to hide and explore respectively. Then the trio took their first in-person tour.

“This room would make a great nursery, don’t you think, babes?” Liza turned to Noah and Ainsley, a gentle smile on her lips.

Noah furrowed his brows, taking a moment before nodding with a slow growing grin.

Liza bust out of the back door, Noah trailing behind her like an adorably confused puppy. Ainsley didn’t walk to meet her, wondering if she could in fact outrun Liza.

“I don’t know if I want a baby!” Ainsley cried, running her hands through her hair, fluffing out the kinked tresses.

“I need one. I need to hold our baby and see us in them. It’s been years and I just feel it stronger than ever,” Liza was crying, though her eyes still flashed with steel defiance.

“I want a baby too, but Sly has a good point, are we really ready for one right now?” Noah piped up from the couch where he sat massaging his temples.

“I’m not having a baby! We’re not ready. I’m not ready,” Ainsley dug in deeper, becoming more stubborn with each push.

“I know we’re ready. I need this. We’re getting older, and soon we might not be able to have one,” Liza gazed imploringly at Ainsley. Ainsley could see where Liza was coming from, but she couldn’t get past the fear in her mind.

Ainsley gave a simple shake of her head in response. How could she be responsible for an entire little person?

“Fine. If you won’t do this with me, then I’ll do it myself!” Liza turned sharply, stalking into her room and slamming the door.

Liza’s face was unreadable as she marched across the lawn.

Ainsley woke alone, and she knew she had to take the tests. She was two months late, and her cycle was never late. Maybe that was why she’d gotten so emotional last night. She was terrified of being a parent. She didn’t know how to be one. When Liza had brought it up for the umpteenth time, she’d snapped.

The first test was pacing and nail-biting. The second test was hopeful breath held. The third was quiet sobbing on the closed toilet.

“Three fucking positives. What’s a god-damned IUD good for,” Ainsley muttered as she made up her morning tea, “three bloody positives.”

“Are you okay?” Liza reached Ainsley; concern now clear through unshed tears on Ainsley’s part.

“No,” Ainsley sobbed out, reaching for them with shaky arms.

Liza and Noah were there in an instant, folding her in their embrace. Even through all the confusion, Ainsley felt her heart slow, and a serene sense of safety overcome her.

“I saw them. In the garbage,” Liza spoke after a moment.

“Saw what?” Noah was confused as always.

Ainsley didn’t bother responding. She pulled out the third positive pregnancy test and handed it over.

“Oh,” Noah said.

“Wait, so it’s three? I thought maybe… Two could still be wrong… But three…” Liza pulled back, looking distinctly paler than normal.

“Oh,” Noah said again.

Liza turned around and promptly emptied her stomach onto the lawn.

“Oh,” Noah crumpled to the ground, out cold.

“Are you okay?!” Liza turned to yell at Ainsley, looking about ready to pass out herself.

And Ainsley laughed.

* * * * *

“Wow, Dad, you’re so not cool,” one of their twin daughters, Madeline, spoke from her perch on the porch railing. She was fourteen today and had asked for the story of when they found out about her and her sister.

“Yeah,” Adelaide, the other twin backed her sister up, “you’re seriously embarrassing.”

The two girls giggled to each other, laughing even harder at Noah’s stricken expression. Ainsley had just finished telling a censored version of the story.

“Hey, at least I didn’t puke like your Mom,” Noah attempted to defend himself from the doorway.

“I think puking is better than fainting dead,” Liza teased from her spot next to Ainsley while rubbing her slightly rounded stomach.

Ainsley bounced their four-year-old son, Liam, on her knee while he cried horsey.

“I think your Dad’s had enough teasi— wait, aren’t you cooking dinner right now?” Ainsley whipped around to look at Noah where he’d been standing for the past hour.

“Oh shit,” Noah dropped the curse and ran inside right as the fire alarm started blaring.

“Language!” Liza screamed after him.

“We know what swears are, Mom,” Adelaide rolled her eyes.

“Well, you damn-well better watch those tongues around us anyways,” Ainsley warned.

“Shit! Shit!” Liam repeated, laughing with a gurgle.

“Dad! You made Li swear!” Madeline crooned as she walked inside.

The alarm stopped and Adelaide walked over to scoop Liam up and follow her sister inside. Liza stood with a groan, leaning down to kiss Ainsley on the cheek before joining the parade.

Ainsley took a moment to herself. The evening sun peeked through the leaves, dappling her skin. The air tasted sweet with pollen, and even Ainsley’s minor sunburn didn’t bother her. Stan lay in the grass, his old bones weary, though his tail still thumped vigorously at the chaos.

“Hey! Liam peed on me! Moooooom!” Madeline’s voice screeched from inside, breaking Ainsley’s peace.

Shaking her head, she could only laugh.