3
The living room is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the warm glow of a side lamp and the soft blue light of the baby monitor sitting between them on the coffee table.
May isn't much of a drinker, but after the day they'd had—the week they'd had—she doesn’t care what’s in her hand, only that it burns slightly as it goes down. Ai-oon, on the other hand, is halfway through her second beer, her shirt now untucked and another button undone as she sprawls out against the couch, looking completely and utterly exhausted.
A week. A week of them floating in limbo, waiting for this day to arrive.
The funeral had gone about as expected—gut-wrenching, surreal, an unbearable weight pressing down on her chest at the sight of two caskets side by side. But the wake… the wake had been something else entirely.
It was supposed to be an opportunity, a chance to find someone—the right someone—who could take Nova. Someone who made sense. Someone who felt safe.
It had not been a success.
Ai-oon had taken the lead with Tan’s cousin, hoping he would have the stability, the means—hell, even just the basic awareness—to take in Nova. That hope died somewhere between the third and fourth child of Tan’s cousin interrupting the conversation to punch a sibling in the arm. Tan’s cousin, a frazzled-looking man with dark circles under his eyes, had barely managed to get out a full sentence between mistakenly calling each of his nine children the wrong names and breaking up small-scale wars. Ai-oon had returned to May looking deeply disturbed.
“Hold me” Ai-oon had said, opening her arms and crouching to tuck into May. Ai had looked so freaked that May had actually obliged with the request and held her.
Meanwhile, May had set her sights on a friend of Aly’s. She’d seemed promising—kind, lively, the kind of person who might be able to bring warmth into Nova’s life. And then she had informed May that she was currently touring the country… as a dancer.
An exotic dancer.
Which, in and of itself, wasn’t a dealbreaker. May didn’t judge—hell, she couldn't care less. But after the wild, borderline criminal story that Aly’s friend launched into about her average night at work, it became abundantly clear that it was not the best place for a baby to grow up.
Their last and final hope had been Tan’s father.
May had never properly met him, but when she and Ai-oon finally sat across from him, it was painfully obvious that he could barely be classed as living. The man had looked ancient, frail, and half-asleep before they even started talking. He had mumbled something incoherent about the war—which one specifically May did not know— before nearly being sent to the afterlife right then and there when Nova managed to crawl over to his oxygen tank and pull the cord out.
That had been a terrifying five seconds.
Now, with the wake behind them and absolutely no viable options in front of them, all they had left was the weight of reality pressing down on their shoulders.
Ai-oon lets out a long, low sigh, undoing another button on her wrinkled shirt before tilting her head toward May.
"Well," she drawls, her voice hoarse from the day, "we could go with the nine-kids family." She lazily gestures with her beer. "I mean, they clearly know how to keep a kid alive."
The ridiculousness of it all catches May off guard, and despite the stress, she lets out a sudden scoffed laugh. But it's a genuine one.
There’s no way in hell Nova is going to that family.
Ai-oon grins, clearly pleased with herself. "Stripper seemed nice," she adds, taking another sip of beer to which May just rolls her eyes, now scoffing more than laughing.
"And the Grandpa’s a definite no?"
May just groans, pushing a hand to Ai-oon’s forehead to physically shove her away. Ai-oon doesn’t resist, just lets her head flop back against the couch with an exaggerated sigh.
"Yeah, I know." Ai-oon stares up at the ceiling, a smirk tugging at her lips despite the undeniable exhaustion in her voice. "We're screwed."
“Totally” May adds, taking the beer in Ai-oon’s hand and downing it.
Ai-oon barely reacts when May swipes the beer from her hand—just tilts her head slightly, watching with mild amusement as May tips it back and finishes the rest in a few long gulps.
“Oh, sure,” Ai-oon drawls, “help yourself.”
May exhales, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table with a soft clink. “I just did.” She shifts, stretching her legs out and letting them brush against Ai-oon’s thigh as she settles in more comfortably. It’s casual. Barely intentional. But Ai-oon’s gaze flickers down at the contact for half a second before looking away, her smirk deepening.
“You’re lucky I’m too tired to fight you on it,” Ai-oon says, running a hand through her already-messy hair.
May huffs a small laugh, her head lolling back against the couch.
“What? don't think I’d stand a chance against the great Metavee?” Ai-oon says sitting up, her signature smirk settling in place.
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” May quips, her voice lower now, edged with something teasing. “I’m scrappy. When I want to be.”
Ai-oon’s gaze drops for a second, then her eyes narrow in challenge. “Scrappy?”
“Mmhmm.” May grins, leaning just a fraction closer, like she’s waiting for Ai-oon to call her bluff.
Ai-oon holds her gaze, something light and dangerous flickering between them, something that they both don't quite know how to place…yet.
May feels her stomach do an odd, unfamiliar flip. Probably the beer. Probably the exhaustion.
Ai-oon’s the first to break, shaking her head with a smirk and glancing away. “Well, next time you want a beer, scrappy,” she says, nudging May’s thigh as she shifts to stand, “get your own.”
May watches her go, watches the way Ai-oon’s shoulders tense slightly—like she felt it too but has no idea what to do with it.
***
The child custody courtroom is bigger than May expected, but somehow, it still feels suffocating. The air is thick with the murmur of legal proceedings, the shuffle of papers, and the occasional sharp rap of a gavel.
In the second row, Lawyer Dunn sits stiffly in his suit, his briefcase neatly positioned by his feet. Beside him, May balances baby Nova on her lap, the little girl happily chewing on a handful of Goldfish crackers. Ai-oon, slouched in her chair, taps absentmindedly on her thigh, her knee bouncing with excess energy.
The sound of the clerk standing pulls May’s attention forward.
“Next case. The matter of Nova Suwannathat. Index Number 05893-01.”
Dunn gives them both a subtle nod, ushering them to their feet. May quickly shifts Nova onto her hip, adjusting the baby bag on her shoulder before following Ai-oon and Dunn to the front of the courtroom.
At the bench, a judge with sharp red hair and even sharper eyes flips through a thick stack of papers. She doesn’t look like the type to be charmed easily—not that May would even try.
“All right. I've read your submissions, along with the will,” the judge begins, her voice clipped and efficient.
May tries to focus, she really does, but Nova has other plans. The baby lets out an impatient whine as May unknowingly moves the tub of Goldfish out of her reach.
May immediately corrects her mistake, handing the pot back before a full-blown tantrum can erupt. Nova begins to chew happily again.
Crisis averted.
“Given that you folks were named as guardians, I see no reason to countermand the parents' wishes. However, permit—”
The judge stops mid-sentence as Nova flails her little arms, sending her snack container flying. It clatters onto the floor, spilling its contents everywhere.
A beat of silence.
Then May, already moving on autopilot, crouches down, still holding Nova in her arms as she scrambles to pick up the scattered Goldfish.
“Just leave it,” Ai-oon hisses, barely moving to help.
“No, they’re going to get ground into the carpet,” May mutters, frantically grabbing at the tiny orange crackers.
“Guys. Guys.” Dunn crouches down next to them, his tone pleading. “Let’s leave the Goldfish. What do you say we stand up?”
May hesitates, looking down at the mess of crumbs, but nods. “Okay. Okay.”
“Stand up. Leave them,” Dunn repeats.
With a sigh, May straightens up, shifting Nova against her.
“Sorry,” she starts, her gaze flickering back to the judge. But the unimpressed expression on the woman’s face tells her she is not in a forgiving mood.
“I’ll pick these up, just—”
The judge cuts her off, slapping the file closed with finality.
“Until that time, I hereby grant joint legal and physical custody of Nova Alyssa Suwannathat to Metavee Anurak and Ai-oon Ingsamak.”
The sharp crack of the gavel makes May jump slightly. She barely has a second to process before they’re being ushered out of the courtroom.
And that should be it. That should be the end of it.
But Ai-oon has never been one to take the easy route.
“That's it?” she blurts, twisting around to face the judge. “You're not gonna ask us anything? How do you know we're not drug dealers or pimps?”
May feels heat shoot up her neck as she lets out a panicked, high-pitched, and completely fake laugh. “Ha!” Her wide, terrified eyes jump between Ai-oon and the judge, bracing for impact.
The judge slowly crosses her arms, fixing Ai-oon with a long, withering stare.
“Are you drug dealers or pimps?”
“No, ma’am. No,” May answers immediately, her voice shrill as she slaps—out of sight of the judge— Ai-oon on the back—hard.
Ai-oon winces slightly, rubbing the spot where May hit her, but still May can see her damn smirk.
“Let’s go,” May hisses under her breath, yanking Ai-oon toward the exit.
The second they step outside the courtroom doors, May exhales, her grip tightening on Nova. “I swear to God, Ai-oon, I will murder you in your sleep.”
Ai-oon just grins, making silly faces at Nova. “Hey, you gotta admit, I had a point.”
May doesn’t even look at her. “You did not have a point.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
“Look, the system’s broken, okay?” Ai-oon continues, smirking as she leans against the wall. “For all they know, we could be running an underground crime ring.”
May scoffs, adjusting Nova in her arms. “Yeah, because nothing says hardcore criminals like me running a restaurant and you shouting about sports or whatever it is you do.”
Ai-oon gives her a sideways glance. “Shouting about sports…interesting job description.”
May rolls her eyes, but there’s no real bite behind it. For the first time today, she allows herself to breathe.
They have custody.
Nova is theirs.
***
The front door slams open with unnecessary force, bouncing against the wall as Ai-oon storms inside, the arm that's not supporting Nova, flailing dramatically.
“Boom. Done. Next case!” She exclaims with deep sarcasm, still not over the quickness of their court case.
“Here, take a kid! No, take two! We got extra!” She keeps ranting, pacing in exaggerated disbelief through the house with May following close behind.
“I don’t get it, man. I’m a lesbian. When I have sex, there’s like almost a zero percent chance of pregnancy. And yet—” she gestures wildly at Nova, who’s chewing happily on her sleeve, “—I still end up with a kid!”
“Almost zero?---” May question more to herself, eyebrows raised but Ai-oon doesn't hear it she's too busy marching.
May doesn’t even bother asking more questions. Instead, she rifles through the baby bag, muttering, “Where is that stupid duck she loves? The one that drives me insane?”
“I dunno, but do you smell that?” Ai-oon suddenly stops mid-rant, nose wrinkling.
May barely looks up. “Oh, maybe she finally pooped. Did she?”
Ai-oon flips Nova effortlessly from her weird football hold—the one May had hated at first but now has to begrudgingly accept because, for some reason, Nova loves it.
Ai-oon takes a cautious sniff and immediately recoils. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. She definitely—” She cuts off with a full-body gag before shoving the baby straight into May’s arms.
May catches Nova, frowning. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad—” She leans in slightly to take a sniff and immediately regrets it. “Oh. Nova.”
Ai-oon nods solemnly, hands on her knees, still recovering. “Told you.”
***
Upstairs, in the baby’s room, May and Ai-oon stand before Nova, who is now happily lying on her changing table, grinning up at them with wide, innocent eyes.
May tilts her head. “It’s a weird smell, right?”
Ai-oon doesn’t answer. Instead, she places a firm hand on May’s back and pushes her forward.
May immediately steps back. “Whoa, whoa—why me?”
“Because you’re— girlier than me.”
May scoffs. “What? That’s not even a real reason! No way, uh-uh, I am not changing diapers for the next two years.” She promptly shoves Ai-oon forward instead.
Ai-oon sighs dramatically but steps up like she’s about to perform a high-stakes operation. “Fine. Easy. No problem. Something I can check off the list.”
May smirks, making a little check-mark motion in the air. “Check.”
Ai-oon reaches toward Nova—who, by the way, is still all smiles, completely oblivious to the impending disaster—but stops short, her hands hovering awkwardly.
May squints. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know! It’s not like taking off a bra—I know how to do that.” Ai-oon gestures helplessly at the diaper.
May groans, rolling her eyes. “It’s a diaper. Not rocket science. Just take the tabs off.”
Ai-oon eyes it like it might detonate. “Is there, like… a box I can read?”
May deadpans. “See those little tabs? Undo them.”
With exaggerated reluctance, Ai-oon finally follows instructions, peeling back the diaper—
—and immediately, both of them recoil.
They gasp in unison, frozen in pure, unfiltered horror.
Ai-oon makes a choking noise. “Oh my God—”
May slaps a hand over her mouth. “Oh—Nova.”
Ai-oon gags so violently she nearly doubles over. “A bomb has gone off in there.”
“Oh my God, don’t do that,” May groans, backing away. “You’re gonna make me throw up.”
“She didn’t eat enough to produce that,” Ai-oon cries out, borderline panicked. “It’s—it’s everywhere! It’s in her toes!”
May is already scrambling. “Okay, okay— just, here, wipe it” May thrusts the baby wipes into Ai-oon’s hands pushing her forwards.
“Give me another one!” Ai-oon shouts
“Hurry! Get it out of her toes!”
May tosses wipes toward Ai-oon like she’s throwing grenades, both of them gagging through the cleanup effort.
“What. The. Hell.”
And then—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell chimes.
For a second, everything pauses.
And then Ai-oon—without hesitation, without a single ounce of shame—drops the wipes and bolts for the exit.
“Oh, I got it!” she calls out, already halfway down the hall.
May’s head snaps up. “INGSAMAK, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!”
But Ai-oon is already gone.
Nova, still grinning, kicks her feet happily.
May stares down at her, expression haunted. “Oh, it’s burning my eyes.”
***
May lets out a long, exhausted breath as she finally finishes wiping down Nova, who remains completely unbothered, still all giggles and wiggly toes. May, on the other hand, feels like she’s been through war.
Just as she’s fastening a clean diaper onto Nova, Ai-oon strolls back into the room, looking far too pleased with herself.
“Hey,” she starts casually, leaning against the doorframe, “the neighborhood watch is here. They brought us some—” Ai-oon suddenly stops mid-sentence, her gaze locking onto May’s face.
She stares.
Stares hard.
May blinks. “What?”
Ai-oon doesn't respond, eyes still fixed on her, lips twitching.
May, assuming the obvious, instinctively pulls Nova closer. “What? She’s perfect. No thanks to you,” she huffs.
“May, you have a—” Ai-oon tries, voice laced with warning.
But May waves her off, already on the move. “Save it, Ai. You big coward.” She shoves Nova into Ai-oon’s arms, patting the baby’s back. “Now, I'm gonna go and be the responsible one and thank our neighbors for the food.”
With that, May strides out of the room, determined, exhausted, and completely oblivious to the fact that there is—
Poop. On. Her. Face.
***
Downstairs, the small group of friendly neighbors—three couples, which May has met occasionally over the years and again more recently at the wake, are waiting and each holding a Tupperware container filled with homemade meals.
May greets them with a tired but grateful smile. “Hey, wow, this is so nice of you guys. What’s all this?”
The neighbors don’t answer immediately.
In fact, they look…horrified.
DeeDee, who May has always remembered for her volume, mouth opens slightly, like she wants to say something but can’t. Mark and John Renner, a couple who May remembers work in some kind of finance corporate job, both look nervously at the other couple, Sue and Dillion Wilson who live opposite their house, as if to confirm they’re all seeing the same thing.
The group all physically take a step back.
May frowns. “What? Why is everyone looking at me like that?”
From the staircase, Ai-oon appears, cradling Nova in one arm, looking far too smug for someone who just bailed on diaper duty. She doesn’t say a word—just leans against the banister, clearly waiting for the moment to unfold.
It’s DeeDee who finally finds the courage to speak. With a tight smile, she leans in slightly and says, far too loudly,
“You have shit on your face, dear.”
Silence.
A long, drawn-out moment where the words settle, the reality dawns, and May feels every inch of her soul leave her body.
Slowly—painstakingly slowly—she turns her head toward Ai-oon.
Ai-oon, who is now grinning.
Ai-oon, who knew.
Ai-oon, who let this happen.
“What?” May asks, her voice hollow, her dignity crumbling.
The husband of Deedee awkwardly gestures toward his own cheek, mirroring where the offending stain sits on May’s face.
May’s nostrils flare.
Ai-oon finally breaks the silence. “I tried to tell you.”
Oh, she’s smirking. That little shit is smirking.
May takes a slow, deep inhale through her nose.
She wants to slap that smirk clean off Ai-oon’s face.
Ai-oon, sensing the imminent danger, takes a single step back up the stairs.
“Walk away, Ai,” May warns through gritted teeth, wiping furiously at her face. “Walk. Away.”
Ai-oon bites back a laugh. “Already on it.” She turns on her heel and disappears up the stairs, still chuckling to herself.
The neighbors, wisely deciding to pretend none of this happened, shuffle toward the kitchen.
May exhales, rubbing her temples.
This is her life now.