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Devout

Rosamund Lannin

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Lucy wasn’t the type that went to mom meetups, but they seemed like an okay group. And, she chided herself, there was no type that went to mom meetups. She was still unpacking a lot of the garbage from Dallas, where they’d never really found their people. They’d moved there because her job had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, which was also what had brought them to the Iron Range of Minnesota. She’d never thought wastewater engineer would be the hot career, but the last 20 years of increasingly extreme weather patterns had made her skill set in high demand. 20 years ago she had a Bachelor of Science and not much direction; now she had a husband named Noah and a 10-year-old named Margot Leander because they really loved that one director, the one who drowned in the Great Tycoon of ’36.

“These biscuits are insane. Where did you even get butter?” She glanced outside at Margot, who seemed to be doing fine with the other kids. That was good; she could be shy with new people. Much like her, she thought with a pang of guilt. “The price gouging going on right now is insane. I mean I get it. That new cow virus.”

“We have a little farm — a micro-farm?” Lila was tiny — Lucy was shocked to learn that she had four kids and was thinking about more.

“That’s great.”

“You should come see it sometime. We have a ladies’ night every few months. No husbands, no wives,” she nodded to Maddie, who smirked, “and I don’t know, it just really fills my cup. We also do a big thing right before summer –”

“Lila, don’t freak her out.” Eden was Lucy’s favorite so far. She was an operations manager at a small trucking company and had the kind of steady evenness that set Lucy at ease. “But yeah, you should come next time.”

“Did you have a good time with the other kids?”

“It was okay. Carrie’s cool.”

Carrie was Eden’s daughter, a quiet girl with her mother’s dark eyes. Lucy felt something like hope. The last few years had been so hard.

“Well, let me know if you want to hang out with her again.”

“We already traded numbers; she can message me on my phone that’s not really a phone, since you won’t get me a real phone.”

“You can get a real phone when you’re in high school. There’s too much misinformation out there. Margot? Are you listening to me?”

“Did you have a good time with the other moms?” Noah cracked a beer and slid it across the table without spilling a drop. 20 years ago she’d met Noah tending bar near their unremarkable state school, two lower-middle class weirdos who didn’t quite fit in; a time when summer was synonymous with vacation.

“Shut up.”

“That good?”

“There was one lady I liked, Eden. She seemed cool and Margot liked her daughter, Carrie. The rest of them were fine, just kind of. I don’t know. The vibe was weird, but maybe I’m being weird? I can’t tell anymore. No one asked me about my job.”

Her phone buzzed. “I guess it went well. Sarah invited us to a bbq.”

“Do you think they’ll have real meat?”

“I don’t know if they eat meat.” There hadn’t been any at Lila’s house. She wondered what kinds of animals they raised on her farm.

Noah brought his A-game to the BBQ; five kinds of liquor he’d been brewing in the garage since they’d moved there a few months ago.

“This is so so so good,” Maddie said to Lucy. Her wife Mel nodded in agreement. “It’s so sweet and smoky. Like a marshmallow.”

“Oh yeah, he calls that the Campfire. It’s an aged bourbon. He wants to open his own distillery and bar, but money’s not quite there yet. He’s looking for bartending work if you hear of something.”

“I’ll keep my eye out. What do you do for work again?”

She had told Maddie twice but she tried to be patient. Everyone had a lot going on.

“I’m a wastewater engineer, it’s actually why we’re here. There’s a big project over in Grand Marais, building out a sewer system that utilizes the lake but doesn’t pollute it.” 

Maddie’s eyes started to glaze over at Grand Marais, which only made her feel like she had to sell it. “It should really solve a lot of water supply problems, working with the land in a way that doesn’t hurt it. We’re hoping it can be a blueprint for future wastewater systems.” She felt rather than saw Noah at her elbow; he must have read her body language from across the room. “They had an article about it in the Tribune last week —“

“That’s cool.” Maddie cut her off smoothly as she sipped her drink. “I don’t keep up with the news that much, it’s too depressing.” She turned to Noah: “I hear you’re looking for work. Mel’s cousin has a bar over in Grand Marais, one of those bougie cocktail bars for tourists. I can talk to him?”

“That would be great. Especially because Lucy goes over there every day for work, saving the planet! We can carpool.” His grin was wide and toothy. Lucy loved him with every bone in her body.

Afterwards, Eden texted her, asking if she wanted to get coffee. She sighed and accepted.

Their coffee date turned into a thrift store date turned into a lunch date and would’ve turned into a dinner date but Lucy remembered it was her turn to do dinner.

“Noah does 90% of the cooking, he’s way better at it than me and he actually likes it. I do like three things really well. This was really fun though.” She meant it.

“What are your three things?”

“What?”

“Your dishes. What are they?” Eden fixed her with her dark eyes.

“Spaghetti bolognese, vegetable pilaf, and pancakes.”

“That’s better than me. I guess I’m the divorced dad; I should probably get an Audi like my dad had. And a younger dude.”

“Ha! I hate cooking. I always have.”

“Cooking sucks.”

“What do you like?” She still didn’t feel like she knew Eden that well.

“Coffee. Thrifting. Burgers. My daughter. Not feeling like I have to explain myself.”

“Amen to that.”

The winter was a good one. Her work project went well and stayed on track; if all continued, they should be able to provide reliably clean water to six towns by summer —  just in time for the scorching heat waves that had become the norm. Noah worked at Mel’s cousin’s bar, The Gilded Loon, an upscale cocktail bar with killer food and a view of Lake Superior. Lucy hung out with Eden every few weeks; it helped that their daughters had become friends. They went to the lake a lot. Lucy never wanted to do indoor things in the winter — there would be plenty of time for that when the sun became oppressive and the days too long.

One day at the lake, Noah came with them. “So Eden, you got anyone in your life?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Noah! Shut up.” Lucy kicked sand at him.

“Nope.” Eden smiled a tight smile. “It didn’t end super well with Carrie’s dad and it’s kind of slim pickings around here.”

“Whaaaaaaat? You’ve got your pick of married cheating evangelicals, divorced evangelicals, and migrant farm workers who found their way up here and probably regret it. I think you should go with the last group, might be a bit of a cultural barrier but they’re probably the most sane.”

Eden said nothing; for an agonizing few seconds the air was thick with the sound of bugs and Lucy’s terror that they’d blown it. Then Eden burst out laughing, her dark curls shaking as her shoulders heard.

“You nailed it. This isn’t where I saw myself ending up.” Lucy might be bad at feelings but the sadness radiating off her friend was palpable. “But it’s worked out for us.”

“Maybe we can all go down to the city sometime this summer.” Noah said. “Stay in a hotel, enjoy that good air-conditioning, see some new faces.”

“Maybe.”

That night when they got home, Lucy stopped by Margot’s room and tapped on the door. Margot looked up from the old comic she was reading. Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. She must have got it on interlibrary loan; the graphic novel selection at their tiny branch wasn’t amazing.

“Did you have a good time today?”

“Yeah.” She went back to her comic.

“Really? You can tell me. I mean, you don’t have to.” Noah was so much better at this. She was about to walk away when Margot’s voice stopped her.

“Carrie doesn’t want to be my friend.”

Margot still had the bedspread they’d got her in kindergarten; a print of forest animals and fairies. Lucy was weirdly happy she hadn’t asked for a new one.

“What?”

“I asked her if she wanted to get a best friends necklace; the kind with the heart that breaks in half. She said that she never has friends that long so we probably shouldn’t. They always move away or stop talking to her.”

“Oh honey.” Lucy brought her in for a hug. “I’m sure she’s just dealing with her own thing. It’s not about you. Anyone would want to be best friends with you.”

“That’s not true.” But she leaned into her mother’s arms.

She meant to bring it up to Eden but could never find the right time and she didn’t really know how to bring it up anyway. Probably better to let the girls work it out amongst themselves. She didn’t tell Noah either. Besides, when they got to Last Chance Winter Dance party at The Gilded Loon, Margot and Carrie split off immediately and commandeered a booth, ordering Shirley Temples and fries and a truly ridiculous brownie sundae. She tried to slip Mel’s cousin her credit card but he told her it was on the house.

It made her so happy to see Margot have some semblance of a normal childhood. Things were so different now and she often wondered what effect that was having on her. Each generation had its own problems, she supposed, but tycoons and virus outbreaks weren’t things she had been prepared to deal with. Not to mention all the moving for her work. Maybe she could do something about that.

Noah was mixing drinks at the bar; she grabbed him on a break.

“Hey,” She kissed him; he tasted like mint gum.

“Well hey there,” he smiled. “What’s got you in a good mood?”

“What would you think about staying here after my project was up? Like, permanently? Maybe?”

“Really?” His face was an arched eyebrow. “Why?”

“People seem nice, Margot’s doing well, you’ve got a good thing going on here.  I could find more work, I might have to travel some but yeah. Houses are so cheap, the weather is the best we’re going to get. You like it, right?”

“I do, but it’s so small. I always saw us ending up in a city, maybe not in the center but close to everything. I know you hated Dallas but like, there are other cities.”

“What’s even in the cities anymore?” She countered. “What’s going on that you’d want? Being inside half the year?”

“Proximity to different kinds of people. But I get what you’re saying.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s talk about it more later. Hey, there’s the ladies.”

Eden and Sarah and Maddie and Lila bellied up to the bar. Eden squeezed her arm, a gesture that surprised and pleased her.

The conversation flowed into the night. Noah took Carrie and Margot home. For a moment after he left there was a lull. Lucy felt warm and brave. She cleared her throat.

“So I don’t know anything for certain, but we might stay on after my project is over. I’m going to see if there’s more work at the plant in Hibbing —“

No one cared about the new plant in Hibbing — they erupted in cheers and clapping.

“Lucy!”

“That’s amazing, we’re so happy.”

“Are you pregnant?” Lila sounded hopeful.

Lucy snorted without thinking. “No. I’m 40 and we’re happy with Margot.”

“Don’t worry about her, she’s baby-crazy,” Sarah beamed, “We’re thrilled. You have to come to the farm next weekend. We have a thing every year to bring spring in, it’s a little granola but if you’re going to stay there, you should be part of it. It’s important to us.”

“She could also come next year,”  Eden said, “I mean —“

“No, she should be in on this if she’s going to stay here. Meet us at the farm at dusk. Wear comfortable clothes.”

The moon shone quiet and cool over Lila’s farm; a welcome reprieve from the day. It was barely April but the days were already starting to warm up. The farm was small; a few greenhouses and an old, red barn, where the women were gathered. Sarah waved her over to where they stood in a rough semi-circle.

“Should I have brought something?” She scanned everyone’s faces.

“No you’re great. We’re just waiting for Lila.” Maddie said. “She’s bringing out Lulu. It’s almost time.”

“Lulu the cow?” In the distance, she could hear a faint mooing.

Maddie turned to Eden. “Do you want to explain it?”

“Not really, I think we should’ve waited until she’d been here another year, but whatever.” Maddie made a face at her. Eden continued, “We have a good life here. The weather is livable and our kids are healthy. Do you know why that is?”

Lucy blinked. “We’re at the northern tip of Minnesota. It’s geography.”

Everyone looked worried. Eden took a deep breath. “Yes, but that’s only part of it. Everything is so chaotic now, we don’t know when the next major event is going to happen —“

“Actually we do, we’ve gotten really good at predicting it. It’s one of the few upsides of this mess we got ourselves into.” Something started to rise in her gorge. “It’s why we’re still alive as a species. There’s a long way to go, but I mean, but –”

“It didn’t protect my twins from the mudslide!” Maddie had tears in her eyes. “It didn’t protect Lila’s last farm or Sarah’s first husband. We’ve stopped relying on science and what the news says is progress. It takes forever and it doesn’t always work. This works.”

Something in her voice froze Lucy’s feet to the muddy ground. The rains were supposed to stay heavy for the next few weeks; she should check on the retention basins more regularly. She should also leave, but she didn’t know how. Her hand strayed to her phone.

“She needs to see it.” Sarah’s voice was hushed. “She can just watch this time. It’s okay.”

Lulu the cow was hugely pregnant. Her sides bulged and her udders were swollen with milk. Lila struggled to pull her into the barn, sweat shining on her high brow. Last week she had asked Lucy if she’d look good with bangs.

She got her into the barn and tied her to a wall. Lulu mooed again.

“Are — what are you going to do?” Lucy found her voice.

Lila ignored her and addressed the group. “She’s ready.”

The next hour seemed to play out in slow motion. Lulu birthed not one but two calves (“Twins!” Sarah breathed), her water bag breaking and spilling over the damp ground. The air smelled biological in a way Lucy wasn’t familiar with; she liked systems and order, not whatever was going on, but she still didn’t really know what was going on and felt under some spell. Then Lila brought a sledgehammer out and killed the smaller calf, spattering its brand-new brains across the floor. The women howled and painted their bodies with blood and offal, keening and yelling their anguish into the night; at one point she felt Eden’s hand at her elbow, drawing her in, but she moved away. She closed her eyes and then someone was leading her out, away from the smells and cries and Lulu’s somber face.

“What the fuck was that?” She found her voice, she was yelling at all of them but especially Lila, who looked smug and sanctified like Ella in fifth grade had when she’d told her that women who killed their babies were going to hell and that’s why Laurie’s mom had cancer; she was certain. “You don’t even eat meat, why would you do that? Why would you kill that baby?”

“It protects us,” Lila said. “We care about our children. This is how nature works. We haven’t had an extreme weather event since we started. It works. You’ll see.”

“And we’re not like the groups over in Bemidji, we heard that they —“ She never heard the end of Sarah’s sentence. “This isn’t. This isn’t —“ She was babbling and then she was running and she was texting Noah a stream of consciousness he would make her explain later. As she ran the rain started up again, the water mingling with the tears on her face. She didn’t know if she was crying for the nameless calf or Lulu or Eden or the world as a whole, but she knew she had to keep moving or she would collapse.

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Rosamund Lannin has a kid and a job. She has published Pushcart Prize-nominated short stories and personal essays in Bluestem Magazine, Strange Horizons, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, and Vice. When she’s not querying a novel about live action roleplaying (LARP), you can find her riding her bike around the gloriously weird northwest side.

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