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Layne asks me to stay and chat with her, which I’m very happy to do.
“You have no idea how much we appreciate y’all letting us come here and use your medical facilities,” she says. She’s got a pretty, heart-shaped face and two long brown braids of hair. “We knew what we were getting into with this.” She strokes her rounded stomach. “But it’s still kind of terrifying.”
“I can only imagine. I’d be the same way.”
“Obviously, people had babies for millennia without hospitals, but what’s also true is that a lot of women and babies died from childbirth. The closer we came to time, the more scared we got.” She laughs. “I finally had to send Travis with Mack to help take back the bunker mostly to give him something to do and stop him from driving me crazy with his hovering.”
“Well, he’s scared. I get that.”
“I know. I’m scared too. So when he got back and explained you’ve got a doctor and nurses and a clinic and medicine and equipment, it was like a miracle to us. I think Travis might actually be able to breathe now.” She stretches out against the extra pillows we fit in behind her. “And maybe so can I.”
“I hope so. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Until you’re ready to travel again or even longer if you’d like to live here long term.”
“Probably not. We love our little house. And Duke, our dog, would never forgive us if we didn’t take him back home. He’s lived there even longer than we have. But for now, being here is like a gift from heaven for us.”
There’s a slight lull in conversation, but she doesn’t look like she’s ready for me to leave, so I say, “Tell me a little about yourself. How did you and Travis get together?”
Layne laughs. “That’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
So she tells me all about how they were from the same town but never really knew each other. Then they met up when they were both traveling to Fort Knox after their town migrated. He kept her safe on the road, and they fell in love.
“You should have seen me at the end of the trip,” Layne says, laughing again as she’s finishing her story. She laughs more than anyone I’ve ever met. “I was an emotional wreck, not knowing how he felt about me. There he was, totally gone on me and convinced it was obvious for anyone to see, and I had no idea at all. I had no one to go to for advice about relationships. It was just me—barely twenty-one years old and having been with no one else my entire life and trying to figure it out all by myself. I was tying myself into knots about how much I loved him and thinking he didn’t love me back and actually convincing myself he was going to get back together with his ex!”
It’s then. Just then. It hits me like a blow.
My shoulders shake, and my face scrunches up, and I start to cry.
“Oh my God,” Layne breathes. “Oh my God.”
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, trying to wipe the tears off my face and smile at her at the same time. I’m mortified by the breakdown but can’t seem to help it. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what’s wrong with me.”
“If it was my ramblings about Travis that did you in, I’d guess that what’s wrong is probably man troubles.”
I nod. Of course that’s what it is. Her description of her worries is so similar to the way I feel myself. Only I don’t have a fully devoted Travis who openly adores me. Just a tight-lipped asshole who is perfectly happy to leave me alone all day long.
“Do you have anyone to talk it all through with?”
I shake my head. I know I’m not entirely alone. I have a few women I might trust. Like Mary. But for some reason I’ve never been able to bring it up with her.
She wanted me to get together with poor Noah. Maybe she knew how hard a relationship with a man like Grant would be.
“Then talk to me,” Layne goes on. “I know I’m a stranger, but sometimes it’s easier to tell a stranger. I can’t promise to give you great advice, but you might feel better just getting it out.”
I sniff and clear my throat and wipe my face and straighten up. “It’s a mess.”
“It’s always a mess. I don’t know much, but I know that much at least. Your man is that big, blue-eyed one who’s in charge of everyone, right?”
“He’s not really in charge—” I break off the objection before I get it out. Whatever his official position is, Grant will always instinctively draw authority. “Yeah, that’s him. When did you see him?”
“He was leaving as Travis and I were arriving earlier. Travis pointed him out. He’s really good-looking.”
“Yeah,” I agree mournfully. “He is.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“We’re together. I mean, by any estimation, I guess we’re together. A couple.”
