december
rue stays bundled up in their bed for 3 days. on the first day, jules calls in sick to work and stays in bed with her all day, only getting up to bring her things like water and food and other basic physiological needs that rue forgets about when she’s depressed. on the second day, she kindly asks jules to go to work and give her some time alone. jules comes home to rue in the same place that she was when she left. on the third day jules overhears her crying for the first time since this started. she cries while the shower runs, but comes out fifteen minutes later completely dry. jules just hugs her.
they lay in bed together that night and let the sadness wash over them together.
“i’m sorry” rue murmurs as she snuggles up with jules.
“you have nothing to apolgize for. this isn’t your fault rue-rue” she says as she nuzzles her head into rue’s shoulder.
“i just feel frustrated. i should be able to do this for us.” rue says, letting her hand gather the tears that have fallen.
and jules understands. she knows how badly rue wanted this. and hell, how bad jules wanted it too. their relationship had moved with such fluidity, changing over time as the two of them changed. the next phase was supposed to be the two of them having a son, a daughter. but they were stuck. the days felt long and empty.
and so they let the grief exist. they let the grief hold its place in their apartment.
because they know that it’s alright to grieve an idea.
“this just wasn’t our month, and that’s okay” jules says, kissing rue’s cheek.
“but it will be soon?” rue asks, her eyes begging for hope.
“but it will be”
—-
rue goes about her days. walks to na meetings and checks off her lists and goes grocery shopping. she does all these things and pretends that she isn’t terribly exhausted, or having jules stick 4 different injections into her ass each night. she does all of these things and pretends that she doesn’t fall asleep praying to a god that she doesn’t think exists, praying for a child.
it’s lonely. rue and jules had decided not to tell anyone that they were hoping for a baby, rue had shyly admitted that she hated the idea of having to answer to anyone other than jules about her own body.
those days turn into weeks.
the two of them decide to leave their apartment to visit their family back in california for christmas.
——
“ahh, i always have loved this bed” jules exhales as she flops onto the bed in rue’s childhood bedroom. rue loves that bed too, it reminds her of so many firsts. their first kiss (jules always says that the one in her own bedroom “doesn’t count” because she was too surprised to reciprocate) their first time, and the first time that rue knew jules was her forever person.
“yeah yeah, you just love it because it reminds you of me” rue says as she smirks and snuggles into jules neck. they agreed on a quick post-arrival nap before they have christmas eve dinner with their parents (jules’ mom won’t be present. but that’s alright because she likes her dad’s new husband much better anyways).
rue let’s her eyes fall shut, vaguely aware of the change in jules’ breathing that indicates her transition to sleep.
rue dreams of her. their daughter. she dreams of her so often that her face is perfectly clear and rue feels like she knows her. she’s nameless, but in all the dreams jules calls her “love bug”, so rue calls her that as well. in the dreams they live in their same apartment, but with different elements. the place that used to hold rue’s bookshelf now holds framed pictures of the three of them together, and the kitchen table is filled with kids crayons instead of jules fabric. their daughter calls jules “mommy” and rue “mama” and it is perfect. rue feels content.
the worst part of these dreams, however, is the part where rue wakes up with her arms outstretched and no child inside. she never feels as empty as she does in those first few moments. the whole ordeal sends a shiver through her so powerful that it wakes her blonde wife.
“hey” jules whispers, her voice groggy and strained, “are you okay” she asks as she wraps her arms around rue.
rue doesn’t know if she should admit that she can’t stop thinking of the child that they don’t have together.
this should be enough, shouldn’t it? being in such unbridled love and having everything you’ve ever dreamed of? one night, at the beginning of all of this, rue told jules that this felt like karma. like this was her punishment for all the hell that she had put her mom and gia through. she caused so much pain in her family, so she deserved to feel the same pain, right?
“you dreamed about her, didn’t you?” jules says as she pushes the loose brown curls away from rue’s eyes.
“how do i miss someone that we’ve never known?” rue asks.
the question lingers for a moment, and rue swears that jules eyes begin to fill with tears before they quickly disappear. jules has never been afraid to feel her emotions. she’s rarely ashamed or guarded, while rue is quite the opposite. except for now, except with this.
rue thinks that jules hides her sadness out of fear that she might make rue feel bad, or incapable. the truth is though, jules wants this baby just as bad as rue does, and the hole in her heart feels like its growing bigger with each month that passes.
“i miss them too, it’ll happen, it’s alright. i promise” when jules says it, rue doesn’t feel the normal anger that she feels when people tell her things will eventually be okay. she feels comforted.
and so they roll out of bed, toss on some clothes, and walk into the bennett household’s kitchen to help with family dinner. the two of them avoid cooking as much as possible in their own apartment, so leslie gives them the same jobs you would give to a child. jules cuts vegetables and rue sets the table. leslie whispers to jules about how glad she is that jules is a part of their family (like she’s said every year since jules was sixteen). gia’s home from school and jules can see her giving rue shit about “setting the table wrong”. gia always has been better about keeping order.
when the sun sets jules’ dad, david, arrives with his husband and the engulf rue and jules in bear hugs, rue laughs so hard that she can’t breathe.
they settle themselves at the table, and jules placed her fingers on rue’s thigh. after all these years, rue still gets butterflies when she does that.
“so, girls, tell us everything. rue, how’s work?” david asks across the table. over the years his dinner time glass of white wine has been substituted by water, sometimes sparkling. rue hasn’t seen him take a sip of alcohol since she was eighteen, an unspoken act of solidarity towards rue’s sobriety.
rue clears her throat, “it’s good uh, it’s good, busy. i love it though” and that’s the truth, she works as a social worker and she absolutely loves it.
rue’s phone sits resting on the thigh that jules hand doesn’t occupy. it begins to buzz and she glances down at the screen.
manhattan fertility clinic
fuck.
jules eyes hit rue’s phone screen and then rue, who is caught in a moment of surprise. it’s late here, even later in new york, but she can’t let the call go unanswered.
jules stammers out some excuse. rue doesn’t catch her exact words but it’s something about needing rue’s help grabbing something in the kitchen. they push out their chairs and speed walk to the next room over. rue let’s her shakey hands swipe the “accept call” button.
“hello?” she says in a voice so small she doesn’t even recognize it as herself.
“hi? is this rue?” the lady on the other side of the line says. jules sits on the counter and motions for rue to join her.
“it is” rue answers and switches the phone over to speakerphone. jules continues with her nervous habit of pulling on the front pieces of her hair, the ones that have escaped her ponytail.
“hi rue, i’m calling from the manhattan fertility clinic to give you your results for the month, is now a good time?”
fuck. “yes, thank you” she responds.
“well rue, congratulations, you’re pregnant”
and the whole world changes.
not in the way everyone talks about, this is entirely new. her whole life is different. she is different. jules is different. they have a child.
jules flies off the countertop and looks at rue with an open mouthed smile.
“holy fucking shit bennett!” she says as rue mutters a “thank you so much” and ends the call.
“we’re having a baby” rue says as tears can’t help but fall out of her eyes.
“you and me” jules responds and kisses her so deeply that it makes rue’s head spin.
the whole world is different and rue likes this one a hell of a lot better.