mackey-sims

[mackey-sims]

It's been a difficult pregnancy, possibly because of its rough start or maybe because of Claire's age. The baby's spending another afternoon kicking and fighting like a future martial arts champion when she answers the door to find a pair of deliverymen waiting outside. Behind them is a heavy-looking box with a crib just waiting to be assembled.

It isn't the first such delivery, but it is the largest. Bottles, blankets, diapers, even imported formula from overseas... Claire lives in the moment to keep from feeling overwhelmed, while Erin is incapable of not planning ahead.

She's spending her evenings out, looking into anything and everything involving parenthood and bringing that information home. Digital research hardly seems like the strong suit of a complete technophobe like her, but when Claire says as much while picking at her dinner, her friend only laughs lightly.

"You're right, I barely know how to make an order off Simazon. There's no chance I'd be able to figure out how to navigate all of this without Connor. He's been a big help."

The name Connor sounds familiar in some vague way, but Salmon Valley is a small town, so most names do. Apparently, Erin met him through a story he's writing for the paper about working mothers.

"Really nice kid— too shy to just come over, though," she adds.

Journalist or not, Claire finds it odd for him to go so far out of his way like this. When asked, Fiona can only offer a little more elaboration.

"Yes, I think there's a Connor in the newsroom. He's quiet and he keeps his head down, but... I didn't know the interns were writing stories on their own like that. Mostly, they're proofreading and fact-checking for us."

Claire knows she shouldn't scoff at the kindness of a stranger, but given her usual experiences with men, she can't help but be a little cynical. Her best guess is that some young guy's taken an interest in a solidly oblivious Erin. He'll probably be a lot less "shy" about coming over when there isn't a cranky pregnant redhead stomping around.

That thought causes a funny little pang that has nothing to do with the baby playing tug-of-war with her insides. Maybe she's just gotten so comfortable with their current arrangement, the thought of change is bothering her again.

And it seems Claire's baby is as resistant to change as she is, because they're a week past her due date when an appointment is made. They'll have to induce labor, the doctors say— it isn't entirely surprising, and "not yet time for concern"...

... but she still is. She's staring at the newly assembled crib when the worst kind of cramp clenches inside of her. She holds the railings for support and tries to ride it out, but the pain simply ebbs and slows like a tide, never fully going away.

Then it's a wave, in every sense of the word. Her water's broken. The baby is coming on its own terms, and not theirs.

sorry if that was way too text-heavy aaaa i wasn't sure how else to get across everything i wanted to & i still haven't quite delved into the wide world of poses/pose player yet

[mackey-sims]

Not me playing ahead & noticing my babe Morgana Wolff hanging out next to the fishing spot behind her house, sobbing to herself in the middle of the night 😭😭

The next morning:

... classic Sunset Valley.

[mackey-sims]

Claire wears an obligate smile when she tells her friends about her pregnancy. Their support and genuine enthusiasm is almost infectious enough to banish her worries, at least while she's with them.

Alone, the doubts return, creeping through her mind like clinging weeds: she can't support a child with a boat and a fishing pole and thrifted (stolen) furniture. She's not warm or loving or patient enough to be a good mother.

Good thing she's not alone very often these days, Claire supposes.

It started with a night on Erin's couch now and then when the rocking of the houseboat became too unbearable. A few changes of clothes found their way from her own dresser to Erin's spare closet, just to be practical. Some of Claire's flowers and a potato plant weren't doing too well, so they made the trip across town too, and then she took it on herself to fix up the backyard's anemic little garden.

Without realizing it was even happening, Claire's made herself at home with Erin and her dog, Huey— and it's so much easier and more comfortable than she ever thought it could be.

Since the prospect of being a burden to someone she's grown to care about is nearly as horrifying to her as motherhood, she does her best to pull her weight... with varying results.

Erin, for her part, can finally look around and see a home instead of a house.

As the months stretch on, Claire's smile becomes less fixed and her anxieties less intense. If she can live with someone else without driving them away, maybe there's hope for her as a mother. Maybe.

[mackey-sims]

I randomly caught Fiona McIrish making this face & now i keep losing it every time i remember it lmfao

[mackey-sims]

The bills are looming large enough, and that's to say nothing of the costs of raising a baby. It isn't easy for Claire the Bear to swallow her pride and call Jared out for a talk, but she has to.

It goes as badly as it possibly could.

"Why should I believe it's even mine?"

The two of them know full well that an anti-social recluse like her doesn't give her affection freely, and she knows that he's only trying to hurt her and get a rise out of her... but it works. That's the problem with the two of them; it always works.

They argue, loud and ugly, until the rain starts pouring and the sun sets. When Jared storms off, it's clear he doesn't have the slightest intention of helping or even being involved.

She's on her own.

Numbly, Claire wanders through the rain-soaked streets of Salmon Valley until she can't walk anymore. She slides onto a park bench and she's exhausted enough for sleep to quickly claim her, even shivering in drenched clothes.

But what she neglected to remember is how close she is to Erin's usual jogging route.

She's shaken awake roughly by her frantic friend. It's an effort in itself to convince Erin not to take her to the hospital; that'd be just another bill she couldn't afford.

Claire promises an explanation and in return she's treated to a litany of lectures as she's brought to a house as solid, functional, and no-frills as the woman who calls it home. A pair of slow-blinking, curious eyes follow her to the couch while Erin takes her things to the laundry room basement. Though she tries to stay awake, within moments, Claire's out again— not just sleeping, but finally resting.

She barely stirs when a blanket is pulled over her shoulders, nor when a lumbering dog settles on top of her legs and feet.

[mackey-sims]

Erin Kennedy, like Claire, is a woman of routine, living a life that some might describe as lonely.

She wakes up at the same time every day (5 o'clock sharp) and jogs the same route. She eats the same meals with the same carefully-sourced ingredients, she allots herself the same amount of screen time per day (30 minutes exactly) and she tracks her nutrition and gains at the gym in a notebook the old-fashioned way.

Such a rigid lifestyle doesn't leave much room for variation, but she's not as comfortable in her solitude as Claire. She's new in town and not in denial of the fact that she badly needs a friend.

no but they met bc erin started training claire autonomously at the gym & she INSTANTLY popped a wish to be her friend it was so cute ❤️❤️ i love them

Claire's fitness becomes a convenient excuse for their continued acquaintanceship. Despite their differences, they fit comfortably and happily into each others' lives. Both women, as bound by their routine as they are, find themselves eagerly making adjustments and meeting in the middle in order to spend more time together.

With these newfound people in her life, Claire finds the strength she needs to make a big change in her life, registering with City Hall as a professional angler and putting her petty thievery behind her. It doesn't pay as well, but Claire never much cared about the money anyway. Most importantly, it's honest work that she doesn't have to be ashamed of.

But... despite all their work, her health doesn't seem to improve. In fact, her nausea and insomnia only seems to get worse alongside her fluctuating weight. Her energy dwindles until it's an accomplishment just to get out of bed in the morning. She suspects she's days away from Erin frog-marching her to the hospital when she overhears a conversation between Fiona and Molly about pregnancy cravings and the realization dawns on her.

The timing... it all adds up. She's pregnant, and it's the worst possible news at the worst possible time. How is she going to support herself and a baby on a fisherwoman's salary when she barely has the strength to reel in a catch anymore?

[mackey-sims]

Claire doesn't like change, and things quickly start to when a kid knocks on her front door. It turns out she isn't there for a prank, as suspected, nor is she discouraged by "Claire the Bear" and her usual cranky bluster.

River McIrish is the name, and she's got a paper to write for school; something or another about sustainable living in the valley. Reluctantly, Claire agrees to an interview. It doesn't come naturally to her, considering she's used to going days without seeing another human face and her voice is often hoarse from sheer disuse.

The kid's obviously a lot more interested in artsy-fartsy crap like the way the light bounces off the surface of the water than she is the particulars of the lake's ecosystem, but she listens attentively and asks enough questions to whittle the afternoon away.

After that not-entirely-unpleasant interview, when the houseboat is finally quiet again, comes a phonecall from the girl's mother, Fiona. Claire's trying to figure out how a complete stranger got her number in the first place only to be invited out—

— and most shockingly of all, to have fun. The woman's roommate Molly is already several drinks in and a little loud and sloppy, but Fiona herself is as easy to talk to as her daughter.

"Finding your number was the closest to actual journalism I've done in years," the woman confesses eventually, once she's downed a couple of drinks herself. "We're glorified desk jockeys. The world would be better off with more people like you... people who work with their hands and keep the supply chain going..."

Claire says nothing and stares at her untouched drink, feeling her stomach roil with the same vague nausea she hasn't been able to get rid of lately. Fiona, like her daughter, seems to be under the impression that Claire makes a living as some kind of fisher or grocer.

The truth is all the more mortifying in the company of good and honest people, and it only becomes worse, when the social calls continue long after River's project is over. There's no reason at all for Fiona to include Claire when they visit the summer festival or for River to bring her cookies all the way across town when Molly makes too many, but they do.

For the first time in a long time, Claire Ursine has friends— genuine friends— and that makes her want to change.

Her health, she thinks, may be a good place to start. There's no reason for the gentle rocking of her houseboat, once so soothing, to make her so violently ill. She's missing sleep. Jared was always quick to remind her that she hasn't missed very many meals, but it still concerns her to not able to keep food down.

That line of thinking brings her to the gym, during some godforsaken hour that it should be abandoned.

It isn't, and that's how she meets the woman who will become her dearest friend.

[mackey-sims]

A familiar story plays out in a different place. Claire Ursine, a grouchy and reclusive angler, lives a simple life on the outskirts of a foggy, forested little town called Salmon Valley.

Civilization could lurch to a stop tomorrow, and Claire would untether her boat and drift away, fishing, gardening, and filtering her own drinking water as usual. Her comfortable routine would barely change. She doesn't need anyone else— or at least that's what she tries to remind herself of when her telescope drifts in the direction of her "neighbor" and she pulls back in regret.

The less said about her whirlwind of a time with Jared, the better.

Those brief moments of excitement didn't make up for all the fights, the little jabs at her way of life, her weight, her voice and everything else that wore away at her until there was barely anything left.

She's better off by herself. She doesn't need anyone else. She isn't lonely.

She isn't.