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Shannon thinks she might be pregnant. Her period is three weeks late now and she's been feeling weird in a way she can't really explain. Her mom would say she was just making up grimalkins to jump at, but Shannon needs to know for sure. For sure means a clinic, not just a pee stick test.
(She did try pregnancy tests first. Shannon never thought of El Paso as small, but now she knows it is tiny. Her classmates and friends of her parents are everywhere.)
Hence the car.
The car now steaming from its hood not even an hour to Odessa.
Shannon sits in the scant shade of her car and contemplates who to call. She'd wanted answers first, but it seems God really does laugh at plans. Maybe she should just cancel the appointment. It's not like she's going to make it now, anyway, not even with the buffer of time she built in.
A car stops and Shannon refuses to look up because, with her luck, it'll be someone she knows.
"Hey, do you need help?"
That isn't a voice she recognizes. She looks up and sees a guy about her age with tight blond curls and a shark on his shirt.
The shark on his shirt isn't relevant, but it is a cartoon shark advertising a dentist. It says Teeth Time. And the utter absurdity of the shirt disarms her. She waves a hand toward the hood of her car. "As you can see."
"I've got some cables. I could give you a tow back into the city?" He's rocking on his feet like a nervous first grader, like she's going to be mad at an offer of help.
She shades her eyes and tilts her head, thinking. "What about Odessa?"
He shrugs. "I can do Odessa."
He helps her up and they move her stuff into his jeep.
"We should probably exchange names," he says as he hitches her car to his. "Since we're traveling, how many hours again?"
"Three, three and a half," Shannon says. "But no names." Even if he's a stranger, if he goes back to El Paso, he might mention her and, okay, she's spiraling and he's staring at her. "Plausible deniability?"
He laughs, his whole head fallen back and his curls full golden in the sun. God, he's beautiful. She loves Eddie, but she's got eyes. "Well, in that case, let's go full secret agent. You can be Agent O'Houlihan."
She wrinkles her nose, but accepts the name. "In that case, you're Agent Tiburón." The word comes to her the moment she needs it.
"Tee, what now?"
"Tiburón," she repeats. "It means 'shark.' It's Spanish."
"Tiburon," he repeats, not quite correct, but close enough. "You speak Spanish?"
"A little. I'm learning. My boyfriend's family speaks it, so," she shrugs. She hasn't told Eddie yet. She wants to wait until she's more confident with it, until she can surprise him with more than a word or phrase.
Agent Tiburón, though, grins. "That's awesome. I'd love if someone did something like that for me."
"Fingers crossed," she says.
It only takes half an hour and their first pit stop for Shannon to admit why she's going to Odessa.
"So the boyfriend has no idea?"
"He doesn't. No one does." She rubs one hand over her stomach. "I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to keep it, but the rest of me is like 'that's ridiculous' and so I don't know."
"What do you think the boyfriend will say?"
"It is weird calling him 'the boyfriend,'" Shannon says, deflecting.
Agent Tiburón glances at her, but he follows her detour. "We could make up a code name for him as well. What do you think about Haggerty?"
"Where do you get these names?" she asks, laughing.
"Fine. You do better, then."
"I will." She thinks about Eddie's full name, Edmundo, and says, "Monday. He's Mr. Monday."
"Boring," Agent Tiburón declares, but then he asks, "So what will Mr. Monday think?"
"He loves his family, and he's not talked a lot about college yet, but..." she trails off and slumps in her seat. "I don't know."
"Well, it could just be, what did you say your mom called it?"
"A grimalkin."
Tiburón rummages through the bag of snacks they'd bought and tosses a candy bar at her. "Cheer up, O'Houlihan, it might just be a grimalkin."
Another hour passes before she learns why Tiburón is on the road. "It's spring break," he explains. "My friends and I were supposed to go to Florida together, but my parents decided to be parents for once and say 'no.' My sister, who is the best, by the way, let me borrow her jeep so I could go anyway."
Shannon glances around the passing landscape, brows raised. She doesn't even have to say a word before Tiburón ducks his head as far as he can without losing sight of the road.
"Yeah," he says. "I was supposed to go south, but when I got on the road. I don't know. I just felt like I was supposed to go west. See the Pacific or something, I don't know. That's weird, right?"
"Tynged," Shannon says, pulling on another thread of her mother's stories.
Tiburón wrinkles his brow. "What?"
Shannon tries to sketch the meaning with her hands. "It's like fate, but also a curse, but sometimes a gift. It is usually something you must do or can't do. Like, in the stories, Arianrhod set one so that her son couldn't have a human wife."
"You think some kind of curse has forbidden me from going to Florida?"
Shannon's answering laughter is more embarrassed than anything else. "Or maybe that you had to be where you were needed." Another thought strikes her and this one quiets her laughter to just a smile. "Maybe you're my grimalkin's guardian angel. My mom takes a broad view to folklore generally. But she says what makes it a curse is that you have to either live with it or die by it."
Tiburón shakes his head. "Nah, being a guardian angel is never a curse."
The rest of the way into Odessa is a mix of culinary mishaps ("You burned popcorn?!" / "No one told me I had to turn off the microwave!" / "Please tell me Mr. Monday can cook." / "He's...worse than me." / "Oh, your poor grimalkin."), childhood accidents ("How many broken bones?!" / "It sounds worse than it--" / "I haven't even broken one. Are you sure you're qualified to be a guardian angel?" / "I'm still here, aren't I?") and pointless arguments ("I'm sorry, but Batman wins. Preparation beats power every time." / "You can't be prepared for everything." / "And that's why I'm not Batman!").
When they reach Odessa, Shannon has half an hour to make her appointment. Tiburón waits in the parking lot while she goes in alone. He offers to go with her, but she needs to do this on her own.
When she comes out, he is the first person she tells that she's pregnant.
He wraps her into a tight hug and says nothing. She loves him a little bit just for that.
After that they drop her car off at a mechanic and grab a too late lunch. She's already called her mom to say she'll be staying the night with a friend. When her car is fixed in the morning, she'll drive home. After they finish lunch, Tiburón will drive away wherever his tynged takes him next. Not that she believes her mother's stories, but sometimes it is nice to have something to hold onto.
They linger over lunch and share nothing of consequence. When it is time to leave, they hug again. Shannon kisses him on the cheek and he waves good-bye as he pulls out of the parking lot.
And that, is that. She never tells Eddie about how her car broke down on the way to Odessa or the guy she met on the road. She doesn't think he'd react poorly or anything, but those hours are special. She doesn't know the guy's name and they didn't exchange numbers. He lives in Pennsylvania and she'll never see him again. Keeping him secret feels like the only way to keep him at all.
Time passes quickly. She and Eddie marry. He leaves her. Christopher is a marvel, but he also needs so much from her. Eddie's parents are nightmares who insult her in a language they do not know she's been learning to speak. She is burning to ash and no one seems to notice. Eddie returns and Eddie leaves and Shannon's heart shatters. She doesn't care about his excuses; she needs him.
When Eddie returns again, nothing gets better. He needs her now, too, like Chris still does, and his parents are still terrible and Shannon has nothing left to give. Learning that her mother's illness has gotten worse makes her weep and she's horrified to realize it is partially out of relief.
She needs to leave. See the Pacific or something.
Heart breaking, she writes a letter for Eddie and another for Chris. Then she leaves.
It takes an entire year, but eventually she feels like she can breathe again. Her mother dies and she knows she should return to El Paso, but she can't. She knows with a certainty deeper than her bones that she'll die if she does so. An illness from stress, an accident, or her own hand. She can't go back.
She aches to see her son, but doesn't dare to reach out.
Then Eddie reaches out to her. He's in LA and he needs her help getting Chris into a good school. She goes. They kiss. Tumbling into bed is easy, easier than talking or attempting to explain, but then Eddie doesn't let her see her son and she is enraged. She doesn't understand how he can't understand. He'd left, too. The whole situation feels like it is spinning out of control. Something has to give.
So, finally, she storms to his station, ready to give him a piece of her mind but before she can get a single word out, she is struck entirely silent. This is impossible.
"Agent Tiburón?" she asks, disbelief, hope, and joy warring in her voice. She ignores Eddie entirely and walks toward the man she recognizes mostly by birthmark and smile.
His eyes widen with recognition. "O'Houlihan!?"
She covers her mouth with both hands; she can feel her eyes warming. "How?"
He shrugs. "Tynged?"
She laughs and then, without a single other thought, she runs into his arms for a hug. He doesn't hesitate. He's bigger than he was before and stronger, but the hug is just as comforting as she'd remembered.
"Can someone please explain?" Eddie's voice finally cuts through and she and Tiburón separate. "How do you two know each other? Tiburón? O'Houlihan?"
"Wait," Tiburón says, turning toward her. "You know Eddie?"
"She's my wife, Buck," Eddie says.
Tiburón's, or Buck's apparently, eyes widen. "Mr. Monday?" he asks, half-hushed.
Shannon nods. Eddie is repeating the name, but she cannot focus on him.
"Wait, does this mean?" He glances at her stomach and then at Eddie. "Is the grimalkin Chris?"
Shannon breaks down into giggles, leaning against Buck's side so she doesn't fall to the ground. "You really are my son's guardian angel, Buck." Even through her laughter, the words feel binding. "Tynged indeed!" Buck catches her giggles. She has no idea why she's laughing so much, but this is just utterly impossible, absurd, and wonderful.
"What's going on?" a woman's voice asks.
Eddie answers her, "I have no idea." He keeps looking between them, jealousy deepening his frown, and Shannon genuinely cannot tell which of them he's jealous of. This does not help the giggles.
When she and Buck finally settle, they all go upstairs. Shannon starts the explanation, "You remember how I went to Odessa to see if I was pregnant?"
"Yeah. That's why you disappeared for a couple days."
"Well, my car broke down on the way and this guy--" she bumps Buck with her shoulder "--picked me up."
Buck explains about his spring break and going west instead of south. They take turns explaining the codenames, how Buck had been the first to learn she was pregnant, and how they'd never exchanged contact information.
In turn, Shannon learns that Buck and Eddie are best friends and how they kept each other safe on the job. She learns that her son loves Buck and, instead of making her jealous, this warms her through.
When the conversation lulls, Shannon says, "You know, I got Chris a stuffed shark when he was a baby because of you."
"He still has it," Eddie says quietly. "I had no idea."
"Dinner," Shannon says, reaching to grab both Eddie's and Buck's hands. "We're going to have dinner and talk."
She's ready to talk now. And, with Buck here reminding her of the girl she'd once been, she's also ready to face some truths she hadn't before. Eddie will always be her first love and they know each other far too well for bad sex, but history and orgasms are all they have left between them besides Christopher. Shannon refuses to be one of those women who stays in the wrong relationship because of a child. Christopher deserves happy parents. They can be friends. Honestly, with Buck connecting them, they'll have to be friends. She's no more attracted to her Tiburón now than she was then, but he feels family-shaped to her and she needs all the family she can get these days. From what she can remember from his stories, she thinks he'll feel the same.
And that is what happens. They talk. Finally. Eddie doesn't want a divorce. Of course he doesn't, but Shannon knows that more his parents in the back of his head talking than him. Then he points out that he'd need to tell Chris.
"So tell him," Shannon says. "I want to see my son."
A lot of emotions war over Eddie's face, but then he sighs. "You can't leave him again."
"I won't," Shannon promises. "None of us will." She includes Buck in that. Buck was there for Chris before he was even born and he's there for him now, too. He deserves to be included.
She and Buck meet often. Their codenames slip to middle name status, something to wield when the situation is serious. When he talks about Abby, Shannon shares her own perspective of when she left Eddie.
"She may not have known it then," Shannon says, "but I don't think she can come back here, just like I couldn't go back to El Paso. It had nothing to do with wanting, of course I wanted to go back to Chris, to my family, but I felt like I'd die if I dared. I think you could go to her and she'd probably welcome you, but then you'd never return here either." She reaches across the table and places her hand over his wrist. "Don't go."
He stares down at their hands and his shoulders slump forward, his face falling. "I live in her house, Shannon. What am I supposed to do?"
"Stay with me," Shannon says. "If you don't mind living in another woman's dead mother's home."
He chuckles hoarsely at that. "You could sell."
"You offering to help?" she asks, leaning back and raising a brow.
"Yeah," he says, meeting her gaze. "Let's do it."
Eddie helps Buck move in, though not without commentary. It's been over a month, but he still thinks it is weird that his now-ex-wife and best friend are friends and now housemates, even if it is only until Shannon manages to sell--though she's hoping to convince Buck to remain her roommate. And he tells her as much in her kitchen when Buck leaves to go pick some things he'd forgotten.
"You have to admit," he says, "it is a little weird, right?"
"Don't worry," she teases, "I won't steal Buck from you."
"That's not-- I'm not--"
Shannon's eyes widen and she can see the moment Eddie notices. "No," he says, pointing at her.
Shannon had expected Eddie to tease back, but this sputtering, this tiny hint of heat in his cheeks. This is new. "You like him," she says, awed.
He covers his face with one hand. "No, I do not."
"Eddie," she says, her voice sliding up with delight. She realizes this is the perfect moment to share another secret. "¡Desearías que ese hombre fuera tu novio!"
"What?" Eddie drops his hand, staring at her. Shannon hears the front door opening at the same time Eddie asks, "Since when do you speak Spanish?"
"Since before Chris," Buck answers for her. He steps into the kitchen and looks between them. To Shannons's utter delight, Eddie's blush deepens. "You never told him?"
Shannon shook her head. "I was waiting until I felt good enough for a conversation. Then he enlisted and so I decided he didn't get to know." Then, taking pity on Eddie, she adds, "I was learning for you, Eddie. I told Buck about it on the way to Odessa."
"Hence Tiburon," Buck continues.
"Tiburón," she and Eddie both correct him.
Eddie looks at her like she's a language he can't decipher. "You should have told me," he says. "Knowing you were learning, it would have made me very happy."
"I know," Shannon says. "We probably should have told each other a lot of things." They hold eye contact for a moment that feels like an age. This moment, even more than their divorce, feels like the last words for their romantic relationship. That book of their lives is now firmly closed.
That night, she and Buck invite Eddie to stay for dinner. Shannon has not forgotten Eddie's unexpected blush. She watches how the men navigate around each other. It is clear they're still learning each other, but something keeps them close. They don't quite have their own language yet, not like her parents had once had and like she and Eddie had once mutually built and then mutually forgotten, foreigners in their own created tongue, but, watching them, Shannon thinks they could.
She doesn't say anything yet, but she thinks it could be good if the men did develop a romance. Chris would get to keep his guardian angel. Shannon would have another tie to Eddie. She might not be in love with him anymore, but that doesn't mean she wants to lose him. Buck would get their family. They would all get a bit more happiness.
It's too soon, though. Buck is still grieving his relationship with Abby. Eddie isn't ready. So, for now, Shannon just watches and hopes maybe.