Chapter Text
The trailer may have been small, but it had always been enough for the two of them. It was warm, comfortable and had almost everything they could ever need. They were happy to share that same small space together for the rest of their lives.
Tonight, the windows rattled softly every now and then from the wind outside, and somewhere deeper in the junkyard, loose metal clinked together in the night breeze. The scent of oil and rust still lingered faintly in the air, no matter how much Edna cleaned, but tonight it mixed with the rich smell of supper and the faint wisp of something sweet baking earlier in the evening.
Ed leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh so dramatic it almost tipped him backwards.
“Edna Walker,” he declared, pointing at her with his fork, “I’m tellin’ ya, one of these days people are gonna start paying just to eat your meatloaf.”
Edna snorted softly from across the little table. “They already do pay for it. It’s called groceries.”
“You know what I mean.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m talking fancy restaurant money. Big city money. The kind where they give ya tiny portions on giant plates.”
She laughed under her breath, shaking her head as she gathered up the salt and pepper shaker. “You say that every time I make this.”
“And I mean it every time.”
Ed reached across the table to squeeze her hand before standing, collecting both their plates. The trailer kitchen was tiny enough that he only had to take three steps to reach the sink.
Behind him, Edna watched him fondly.
She had always loved cosy nights like this. Ed, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, slightly messy hair from absentmindedly running his fingers through it all evening, and humming tunelessly to himself.
The faucet squeaked as he turned it on.
“You know,” Ed started conversationally while scrubbing at a plate, “I was thinkin’ tomorrow maybe I’ll finally get around to fixing that old bike near the fence. The red one. Or was it blue? Mighta been both. Anyway, if I can get it runnin’ again—”
He stopped abruptly. Soft arms slid around his middle from behind.
Ed blinked, grinning instantly as Edna pressed herself against his back.
“Well, hello there.” he murmured.
Her cheek rested between his shoulders for a second before she leaned up and pressed a slow kiss along the side of his neck.
Every thought in his head completely derailed. The plate nearly slipped from his fingers.
“Edna— honey—” he breathed, voice suddenly weaker.
Another kiss, warm and lingering.
Ed shut his eyes immediately, shoulders relaxing beneath her touch as he melted against the counter like a candle wax to a flame. “You keep doin’ that, and I’m gonna forget my own name.”
“Then I’ll write it down, just in case.” she teased softly.
He laughed quietly under his breath.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sink kept running. Water splashed lightly over the dishes while Edna held him close, fingers absentmindedly tracing across his stomach through his shirt.
Then she asked, very quietly into his neck, “Do you still want kids?”
Ed’s expression softened instantly. He turned his head slightly, enough that he could see her from the corner of his eye.
“Well, sure I do,” he answered gently. “You know that.”
“I know.” Her arms tightened just a little. “But I mean really.”
He smiled softly, setting the dish in his hands to the drying rack. “Edna, sweetheart, last time we talked about it, I meant every word. I want kids. I want a family with you.” He reached down, covering one of her hands with his. “And I’m ready whenever you are.”
There was a tiny pause. Then she asked, almost shyly:
“What about right now?”
Ed nodded automatically. “Well yeah, right now too, I mean I’d love to have ki—”
He froze. The words finally clicked in his brain like a satisfying domino run. His eyes burst from his skull, so suddenly it was almost comical. The plate in his hands slipped from numb fingers and clattered loudly into the sink.
“Wait!” He whipped around so fast that water splashed onto the floor.
Edna barely had time to react before both his hands grabbed her shoulders.
“Now?” he demanded breathlessly.
She bit back a smile, cheeks already pink.
Ed stared at her. “Now now?” he repeated, somehow even louder.
Her smile widened into something softer, warmer, more emotional than teasing. She nodded.
And Ed completely lit up. Joy exploded across his face so openly, it might as well have been stuck on a billboard. She started laughing before she could stop herself.
“Oh my— Edna— really?!”
Before she could say another word, he kissed her hard enough to cut her off entirely.
Edna laughed against his mouth, arms instantly sliding around his neck as she kissed him back. Years together, and he could still make her feel dizzy when he looked at her like that — foolish and giddy like a teenager.
His hands found her waist immediately, pulling her flush against him.
“You really want to do this? You think we’re ready?” he murmured between kisses, sounding utterly awestruck.
“Judging by how excited you are? I think we’re more than ready.”
He barked out a laugh that turned into another kiss. The cramped little trailer kitchen suddenly felt far too small to contain his excitement. He wanted to bounce off the walls like a happy dog with a big wagging tail that knocked over everything behind it.
“Oh, Edna, can you imagine?” he said rapidly, already grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. “Little tiny boots by the door and little winter coats and— and helping with homework and teachin’ ‘em how to fix engines and—”
She kissed him again just to stop the rambling. It worked for approximately three seconds. Then suddenly his hands slid lower.
“Whoa—!” Edna let out a startled shriek of laughter as Ed hooked his arms beneath her thighs and lifted her clean off the floor like she weighed nothing. “Ed!”
He looked absolutely delighted with himself. “You said now!”
She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, still laughing as he held her securely against him. “Yes, I did say now—”
“Well then!” He kissed her again, smiling so hard against her mouth she could feel it. “No point wastin’ time!”
Edna buried her fingers in his hair, warmth flooding her chest as she looked at him. So excited. So happy. So ready to love this new part of their lives with his entire heart.
“You’re adorable,” she whispered.
“You’re gonna make me a dad,” he whispered back, sounding almost disbelieving.
Emotion flickered across his face for one brief, vulnerable second before it softened into overwhelming affection.
Then he started carrying her toward the bedroom. The trailer creaked beneath his hurried steps while Edna giggled.
“We are gonna be great parents,” Ed promised her earnestly as he nudged open the bedroom door with his foot. “I ain’t kidding. Best parents ever.”
Edna smiled against his lips as he kissed her again. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I think so too.”
The door slammed behind them.
The automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh, hitting them with a burst of cool air. Ed grabbed one of the shopping carts and pushed it through the produce aisle. Its rickety front wheel squeaked faintly with every turn.
“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together once. “Mission: groceries. In, out, home.”
Edna raised an eyebrow as she stepped in beside him. “What’s got you in a rush?”
“I’ve got things I wanna do, hon! Fix the table, eat my supper, take you to bed.” He smirked.
“Ed!” She smacked his arm playfully. “Not in the store!”
“What!? There’s hardly anyone here, and even if this place was packed full, I’d still say it.” He cupped his hands around his mouth, but his voice was barely above normal speaking levels. “Hey, everyone! I love my beautiful wife, and I can’t wait to take her home and-!“
She quickly slapped her hands over his mouth. “Mr Walker, don’t you dare!”
“Alright, alright. Just as long as you know.”
“I think I got the message, thank you.” She huffed with a small smile, pulling her hand away and reaching for the shopping list tucked in her pocket. The notebook page was already somewhat crumpled from being folded and unfolded throughout the morning.
They started off well enough.
“I’ll need some salad greens, brown onions, tomatoes and a couple of sweet potatoes. Go fetch those while I grab the fruit.”
“You betcha, hon.” And with that, he ran from shelf to shelf, pulling everything into his arms, then hauling them back to the shopping cart.
Then dairy. Ed got distracted while trying to compare three different brands of milk, then forget what he was doing entirely and grabbed the first one he saw. Edna quietly swapped it for the milk they actually needed. Chicken went into the cart. Eggs, oil and herbs. Normal.
As they made their way through the aisles, Edna slowed at the end of the display of an adjacent aisle.
Ed kept walking for about three more steps before realizing the cart wasn’t moving anymore.
“I know we’re grabbing oatmeal, but I might get some Cheerios for my trail…mix…” He turned, then followed her gaze. “Oh.”
Adorably itty-bitty shoes. Soft, little sneakers with velcro straps. Behind them lay an array of tiny knitted booties and colourful Mary Janes with wee animal faces stitched on the toes.
Edna reached out slowly, almost reverently, and picked up one of the pairs. It fit entirely in the palm of her hand.
Her eyes grew wide, sparkling like stars, despite the harsh fluorescent light.
“They’re so small,” she murmured.
Ed leaned on the cart beside her, watching her more than the display. “Gonna need even smaller socks to go with those.”
She huffed a small laugh, but she didn’t put them down right away. Instead, she drifted further into the aisle. And then further. And then a bit further than that.
Soon she was surrounded by racks of baby clothes—soft fabrics in pastel colours, tiny hats, little onesies with embroidered animals, cartoon trucks and cheerful phrases.
“Oh— Ed, look at this one,” she said, holding up a miniature hat. “It has ducks.”
Ed pushed the cart in after her, smiling helplessly. “That’s a lotta ducks.”
“And this— oh my gosh— look at the sleeves on this.”
She was glowing, walking past every item like a child in a toy store. Her fingers ran over the fabric, with a small gasp whenever something really struck a chord with her.
Ed rested his arms over the smooth cart handle, watching her with a fond, almost awestruck expression.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “someone’s excited.”
She glanced over her shoulder to look at him, a slight blush dusting her cheeks, and the corner of her eyes crinkling with barely contained excitement. “Can ya blame me?”
“Nope, I just love watching ya.”
“…they’re very cute.”
“That they are.”
She lingered a moment longer, then reluctantly returned the romper to its hanger.
“We should keep going,” she said, though her voice had that reluctant pull to it.
Ed nodded immediately. “Yes, ma’am. Back to the task at hand!”
Groceries continued: cereal, canned goods. After a brief debate about pasta shapes—one Ed lost decisively—they moved on.
“Look, I didn’t say spaghetti is bad, but it just doesn’t pick up enough sauce! And- and it’s a darn nightmare to get on a fork.” Hold on. The cart wheels had stopped turning. Edna didn’t even have to look to know what had happened. “…oh for Pete’s sake.”
The toy aisle. Bright colours. Stacked boxes. Shelves lined with everything from plush animals to simple building kits to picture books. It wasn’t the most extensive, but it was enough to have his mind buzzing.
Ed was already deep down in the aisle. Edna chased after him.
“What are you up to?” Edna started.
“Look at all this! When I was growing up, we just played with sticks and green ninja men and whatnot, but… wow… I didn’t realise there was so much variety nowadays.”
Edna crossed her arms, watching him with a knowing smile.
“What’s this?” He picked up a toy phone that made a delicate tinkling noise when you spun its dial. “Oh, that’s... okay, I don’t know what it does, but it must be good for development, right?”
Then he darted to the shelf behind him. “And books!” He grabbed a brightly coloured board book. “We gotta read to ‘em. That’s important.”
“Of course.”
“And— oh! Look at this—” He held up a plush animal, squeezing it so it made a soft squeaking noise. His face lit up. “Oh, for cute! ”
Edna laughed under her breath. “Well, someone’s excited.”
He paused mid-squeeze.
“Oh, I see how it is.”
“Mhm.”
“I am just researchin’.”
“Well, we need to be shopping.”
He opened his mouth to argue. Then stopped. “…okay, but this stuff is really cool.”
She stepped closer, gently taking the toy from his hands and sending it to the shelf once more.
“C’mon, dad,” she teased softly. “We’ve got groceries to finish.”
His face lit up like a string of Festival Day lights. Dad.
“Alright, alright,” he said, letting her guide him back to the cart.
They made it a few more aisles before the moment found them again.
In the refrigerated section, a man stood beside a shopping cart, trying— and failing—to buckle a squirming toddler into the seat. The little kid was red-faced and loudly protesting, tiny legs kicking as the father tried to soothe him.
“It’s okay, buddy, c’mon— just sit— hey— no—”
The toddler let out a wail.
The man sighed, clearly exhausted but still as patient as he could possibly be.
Edna nudged her husband slightly.
“That’s gonna be us,” she said quietly.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “It is.”
They stood there for a heartbeat longer.
…
They both turned their heads at the same time, back to where they’d come from.
Ed glanced at her. “…you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”
She met his eyes, already smiling. “Yes.”
He grinned. “Okay. Okay.” He pointed dramatically back down the store. “We split up. One item each. No overthinkin’.”
“Deal.”
They both took off at the same time. Edna made it about halfway down the aisle before panic hit. She turned on her heel and rushed back.
“Ed!”
He nearly ran into her. “Whoa— what—?”
“What do I get?” she blurted. “We don’t know we’ll have a boy or a girl— what if I pick the wrong thing? What if I get something pink and—”
Ed didn’t even hesitate.
“Our baby boy will wear a pink fairy romper,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And our girl’ll wear a blue truck one.”
She blinked.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me, pumpkin. Kid’s gonna be adorable either way.”
Something in her expression softened immediately. She leaned up, kissed him quickly and warmly.
“You have a good heart, Ed.”
He beamed. “I try.”
Then she turned and ran back down the aisle.
A few minutes later, they met again near the cart, both a little breathless.
Edna held up her choice first, a soft pink romper, patterned with tiny stars.
Ed’s face lit up. “Oh, that’s perfect.”
“And you?”
He proudly revealed a plush toy: a big, blue horse, its fabric soft and slightly floppy in that way that made it immensely huggable.
Edna’s smile widened. “Gosh, they’ll love it.”
“I know,” he said, pleased with himself.
They placed both items carefully into the cart, right on top, where they wouldn’t get squished.
Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, they continued with their list.
Tater Tots. Frozen Corn. Soap.
But every so often, one of them would glance down at the cart. At the tiny glimpse of a future that suddenly didn’t feel so far away.
It wouldn’t be the last time they did something like this.
The first month, they told themselves not to expect anything. They went about their days as normal—work in the yard, meals in the trailer, quiet evenings side by side—and when her period came, Edna just gave a small shrug and said, “Well. That’s alright. It’s early.”
Ed agreed easily. “Yeah, yeah. These things take time.”
The second month was much of the same.
When her cycle came again, she sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, hands folded in her lap. Ed didn’t say anything at first. He just sat beside her, shoulder brushing hers.
“Next month.”
She nodded. “Next month.”
By the third, Edna stood in the bathroom a little longer than she needed to. She didn’t cry. She simply stared at her reflection for a moment, took a slow breath, and went back out as if nothing had happened.
Ed didn’t push. He just wrapped an arm around her that night and held her a little tighter than usual.
They both understood. They both waited.
And then, one peaceful, early morning, it changed. It was the kind of soft, grey dawn where the light barely filtered through the curtains and the world still felt half-asleep.
Ed was already up, moving around the tiny kitchen. The faint clink of dishes and the low hum of him talking to himself drifted down the short hallway.
Edna stood over the bathroom sink alone. The air felt still. She looked down at the test in her hands.
Two lines.
She blinked, squinted at it, tilting it slightly like the angle might change what she was seeing.
Two lines; clear and unmistakable.
For a second, her brain stuttered like an old mower. She checked it again. And again.
Her breath hitched. “…it can’t be.”
Her knees went weak, so suddenly she had to sit down, the lid of the toilet cool beneath her as she lowered herself onto it without looking. The test trembled in her hands.
Two lines. Still there.
A small, disbelieving laugh slipped out of her before she could stop it. “Oh my gosh…”
She couldn’t hold back the tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over before she had any chance to hold them back, though she doubted she could even if she wanted to. Her chest tightened, breath catching somewhere between a laugh and a sob as the reality finally hit her.
Three months of waiting. Three months of quiet hope and quiet disappointment. It was all worth it because this time it had worked.
“Ed!” Her voice shook as she called out, louder than she meant to.
There was an immediate crash from the kitchen. “Edna?!”
Footsteps—fast, heavy, panicked—crossed the trailer in seconds. The door flew open. Ed stood there, wide-eyed, breathless, already halfway into worst-case scenarios.
“What— what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen—?”
Then he saw her, smiling with big, heavy tears streaming down her face and a pregnancy test in her hand.
He stopped dead. “…Edna?”
She couldn’t speak. All she could do was look at him, eyes shining, as she held the test out slightly.
He stepped closer cautiously, as if someone would come out and tell him it was all a prank. His eyes flicked to the test, then back to her, then back again. He crouched down in front of her, rough hands settling gently on her knees as he looked up at her, something fragile and hopeful in his expression.
“…does that,” he started carefully, voice already trembling, “say what I think it says?”
She nodded.
That was all it took. His face broke instantly. A choked sound left him as tears welled up just as fast, spilling over before he could even try to stop them.
“Oh…” he breathed, voice cracking. He dropped his head forward, pressing his forehead against her knee as his shoulders shook. “Oh my gosh.”
Edna let out a soft, tearful laugh, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Ed…”
“We’re— we’re gonna have a baby,” he said, the words barely holding together.
She nodded again, wiping her eyes. “Yes.”
He looked up at her then, eyes red, cheeks wet, smile wide and disbelieving all at once.
“Are you happy?” she asked softly, rubbing a thumb across his cheek.
“So happy. Edna, I’m— I’m so happy.”
His hands moved instinctively then, sliding gently to her stomach. Careful and reverent, because their future was held inside. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss there, right through her shirt.
“I’m gonna take such good care of you,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “Both of you. I promise.”
Her breath caught. “Ed…”
He stood up then, pulling her into his arms immediately. She wrapped around him just as tightly, both of them holding on like they might float away otherwise.
They stayed there like that. Crying. Laughing. Holding each other in the small bathroom, barely enough room for both of them, but somehow still feeling like the safest place in the world.
Time slowed.
Nothing else mattered; not the slow, longing months before.
Only this moment.
This beginning.