'Getting It All Back' - Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen - Has Anyone Ever Written Anything for You
‘So if not for me,
Then you do it for yourself.’ - S. Nicks, K. Olsen
~*~March, 2014~*~
My baby is three today. She’s getting so big, so smart, that for a second or two, I wish I could turn back time and start all over with her again in that hospital. Well, maybe not the part where I was squeezing out all nine pounds eight ounces of her overdue butt, but the rest of it, yeah. It’d be so nice to relive all the great moments, the firsts, and share them with Nathan. He missed so many the first time around, always traveling and then later in the throes of addiction.
This year is different, undoubtedly. At this time last year, things were starting to fall apart. Nathan missed Mere’s party entirely, and I was so angry with him over it. I was a fool, though, too, and not only did I forgive him almost instantaneously, but I didn’t really question why he would miss it. We both failed on so many levels, but I suppose that only hindsight is twenty/twenty.
Now we’re doing better, though. Things aren’t perfect, but I think both of us have come to accept that they never truly can be. Life isn’t perfect, and when things go badly, we just have to learn to deal with it. Roll with the punches, so to speak. I think this is something that we’ll get better at as time goes on. We have to, really.
One of the strikes in our favor is that we are learning and trying to communicate as adults. We have a long ways to go in this, but I think we’re getting better. In some ways, this is the first time in our lives together that we’ve really tried to communicate openly, verbally. That is something both of us have been so poor at, honestly speaking with the other, both so afraid of saying something that would damage us.
Maybe in that one, tiny sense, this ordeal has been good for us. It has gone a long way towards teaching us that we’re stronger than we thought we were, that we’re not just going to break apart at the drop of the hat. Maybe that was a lesson we needed to learn, even if it came at a huge price for all of us.
“Mama!” Mere yells loudly, breaking me out of my reverie. Her lungs are growing right up along with the rest of her, I can’t help but think with an internal sigh. “Mommy!”
Groaning, I put down the balloons I was tying to the backs of chairs, and head towards the living room to see what she wants this time. She’s so excited about her party, and being a ‘big girl’, that she’s barely allowed me a second of peace. Nathan went to a meeting, citing the need to be at his ‘sober best’ when spending the day with his father and brother.
I still don’t understand his inferiority complex about that, but at this point, I don’t know what else I can do about it. Trying to assure him that Dan loves him, too, and that Luke wants to figure things out just irritates him, so maybe the best bet is for me to step aside and let him work out his problems with them on his own. If he can make even the tiniest bit of progress with Deb, then he can figure these out, too.
“What’s wrong, Mere?” I ask when I get out there, finding her on the floor glaring angrily - and with tear-filled eyes - at her shoes, “Aw, kiddo, what’s the matter?”
“Mama, bad shoes,” she cries, the tears cascading down her cheeks, “They mean!”
I sit down on the floor next to her, and she is immediately launching herself into my arms. “What did the mean shoes do to you?” I ask with feigned shock and sympathy, trying to figure out what the problem is exactly.
“They’re mean!” she cries again, burying her face in my chest, “Fix them, Mama!”
“Baby, I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” I whisper soothingly, “Show Mama what’s wrong with them, okay?”
She pulls back sniffling, but nods determinedly. She pulls the shoes on, and as soon as she starts fiddling with the laces, it is clear what the deal is.
“Oh, Merry, do you need me to tie your shoes?” I ask her with smile. She puffs out a breath in frustration, pouting as she nods her head. “When you need your shoes on, come get me, sweets. Don’t cry about it.”
”Cuz I’m a big girl?” she questions innocently, her soft curls bobbing as she tips her head down to watch me tie her shoes, “Me do it.”
“It’s hard,” I warn her, “We’ll practice, okay?” I can’t tell her no, she can’t learn to tie her shoes, but at the same time I doubt this is something that a just turned three year old is really capable of doing. The manual dexterity is just not quite there yet.
She’s leaning back against me, but cranes her head back to look up at me with smiling eyes. “Yay, Mommy!”
“Yay!” I cheer with her, laughing softly, “Oh, my baby girl, I love you so much.”
“Mommy,” she giggles, trying to squirm out of my arms, “I find Sammy.”
“Okay, go find Sammy,” I encourage her, even though I’d rather keep holding her. She takes off immediately, and I sigh. “It’s not like I don’t have a zillion things to do for the party,” I mutter to myself.
Pushing to my feet, I take a deep breath. I’d been doing better in this pregnancy, less tiredness, less nausea, but this last I have just been so tired. I don’t know if it is the combination of work and party planning, which I insisted on taking on from Nathan, but whatever it is, it has me hard. If I could lie down on the couch now, I’d probably sleep until Nathan came home to wake me up. Or Mere got bored of playing with the dog and wanted entertainment.
I finish up in the kitchen, putting the final touches on the food - foolishly, I made everything other than the cake myself - and the decorations. This is the first of her birthdays that we’ve been able to celebrate in Tree Hill, so I feel this added pressure to make it special not just for her, but for all of the family, too. That’s probably completely unfounded on my part, but I want this to be nice. Nathan asked if I was overcompensating because of how things stood between him and his family, and while I said it wasn’t, maybe that is a factor.
I have so much appreciation for how great Luke and Dan both have been for me not only this past year, but before that. Sometimes I think that Nathan forgets that they’ve both done a lot for me, been supportive of me. Or maybe he resents that it didn’t transcend to him the way he wanted it to, needed it to.
Shaking my head, I resolve not to worry about any of their drama for the rest of the day. Today is about Mere, not them, and if any of them step a toe out of line, I’ll be on their case so fast they won’t even know what hit them.
The party is set to start at four, so that we have time to socialize for awhile before dinner at six. I should’ve bumped it up earlier, to mid-day, and forgone dinner - it’s not like Mere will care at all - but having her cake and ice cream and presents will be enough for her, even if she has to sit through dinner first.
“Hey babe, I’m back!” Nathan calls out from the foyer, “Where are you?”
“Daddy!” I hear Mere shriek in response, and I can’t keep the smile off of my face, “Daddy, come find me, I hided!”
I can hear his light groan, and I have to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Every day she wants to play this new game of hers. Whenever Nathan comes in from outside, she immediately takes off to hide - always in the tub in her bathroom, from which her giggles and Sammy’s whine can clearly be heard - from him. And he always trudges through the house, looking in every closet, under every bed, and behind every door for her.
“Gee, where could she be?” Nathan asks loudly, rolling his eyes at me as he makes a show of loudly opening and closing doors in the kitchen, “Hey baby, how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I beam at him, opening my arms for a hug, “I’m glad you are back. As soon as you ‘find’ our daughter, you can help me throw the last of these things together.”
“Oh, yay,” he smirks, popping a quick kiss on my lips, “Okay, as much as I’d rather stay here and do more of that, someone will be very upset if I don’t ‘find’ her in a minute.”
He backs away from me, heated promises in his eyes. “How was the meeting?” I ask quietly, wanting to be involved with this, in any way that he’ll let me. I want to help him, I need to help him, and even if that’s just over and over showing him that I’m here to listen if he needs it.
“It was good for me,” he smiles, coming back over to kiss me once again, a little longer and deeper this time. And then Mere starts banging on the wall of the shower, yelling for her daddy to come find her ‘now’. “Ugh,” he sighs, “Do we have to play this game every single night?”
“She’ll get bored with it,” I assure him, smiling, “Eventually.”
“Yeah, it’s that eventually that I worry about,” he smirks back at me, his hands drifting down my back around to my belly, “They’re gonna notice. I’m telling you, someone will say something today.”
I roll my eyes, not worried about it. I’m not really showing that much, so I think we’re safe for a bit. Both of us are enjoying the pregnancy being about just us so much that I haven’t even considered telling anyone yet. “I think we’re safe for awhile yet.”
“If you say so,” he demurs, shrugging doubtfully, “We’ll see.”
“It’ll still be our little secret for a few more weeks,” I assure him, pushing him towards the stairs, “Go find our daughter before she stomps her way through the bathroom floor.”
“Shh,” he whispers theatrically, “You aren’t supposed to tell me where she is!”
I roll my eyes, shoving him harder. “Go,” I order trying not to laugh at how goofy he’s being. He kisses me one last time before jogging up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I shake my head, a little amazed at how carefree and happy he seems. That’s…good, I know it is a good thing, but from what I’ve been reading, I’m worried about complacency in his recovery.
Recovering alcoholics and addicts hit plateaus - things are getting better, and then all of a sudden, they flatten out. From what I’ve read, there seems to be a concurrence that plateaus tend to occur at six weeks, three months, six months, and nine months, in the first year. And we’re just approaching nine months.
I don’t know, maybe it isn’t fair of me to borrow trouble like this, but it worries me. He did fairly well through the first six months, although his sixth month was a struggle, but this is still so new. It’s fragile, and as much as both he and I are going out of our ways to make sure that everything is cushy and safe for him. But we can’t live our lives in a bubble, in a cocoon, and we’re both very aware of the risks.
It’s worrying him, too; I can see that. I hate there is this additional stress and pressure on him on top of everything else. I want so badly to protect him from all of this, but that isn’t really my place or even within my power to do. So much of it is up to him, and I have to trust that he can do this, and that if he needs help, he asks the person who can give it to him. Even if I’m not that person.
Of course, I’d give anything to be that person for him. All I want is for him to know that he can lean on me, that I can be here for him in whatever ways he needs. His inclination has definitely been to shield me from things, even from him, when he’s thought I couldn’t handle it, but he’s underestimating in that regard. Anything he needs from me, I can and will find a way to give him. That’s just how it is.
But he has to ask, because I can’t read his mind. Life would be easier if I could, but that’s just not the case, and neither of us would really want that anyway. I just wish…I just wish I knew, I guess. I wish that I knew what he needed and could give it to him without him having to ask. I suppose asking is part of the process, whatever that is, but I know that is something that has never been easy for him.
I shouldn’t borrow trouble, I really shouldn’t. He’s working so hard right now, going to meetings and reading out of the Big Book, so I should have faith that this is going to be okay. That he’s doing his best, and that his best will be good enough. It has to be good enough, we have to make it good enough.
It’s just, in so many cases like this, the best isn’t always good enough. Even the people who seem like the have the best handle on their sobriety can slip, and I know how devastating it would be for Nathan if he slipped now. It would be bad for all of us, but I know that he would take it especially poorly. If I can help him avoid that, then I will do anything necessary. Right now, his health and well-being are my top priorities, along with Mere and this new baby.
“We need a name,” he says as he walks back into the kitchen, this time with Mere in his arms, upside down. “For the you-know-what,” he clarifies, as if I couldn’t figure it out.
I smile at him, rolling my eyes when Mere chimes in. “We need a name, Mama!”
“What do we need a name for, sweets?” I ask her, tickling her exposed belly. She shrieks with laughter, squirming around in her father’s tight grasp.
“Daddy!” she giggles, holding her arms out for me as soon as Nathan turns her upright. He gets a put out expression on his face when she does this; he thinks that she is still afraid of him a little bit. That she never quite recovered from him screaming at me in Seattle, and that it is holding her back from him. I don’t know what to tell him - I don’t see it, but that doesn’t really comfort him much, and he only sees what he wants to anyway.
“Mere,” he mimics quietly as he passes her off to me, sighing. “Mama’s girl.”
“Nathan,” I sigh, not sure what to say, “You know that’s not - “
“Yeah, I know,” he agrees quickly, leaning over to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Hey, go find your jacket, kiddo. You and Sammy can play out in the yard for a bit.”
She squirms to be let down, so I set her on the ground. I swear, she’s already running before her feet even hit the ground. Looking at Nathan, I sigh. “She’s three. Three!”
“I know,” he grins, “She’s huge. She’s getting so damn big I don’t even know what to do with her now. She got mad at me for trying to help her brush her teeth.”
“She wants to do everything by herself,” I agree. “She was upset earlier because she couldn’t tie her shoes.”
“She’s too little to tie her own shoes!” he exclaims, looking horrified by the idea, “I think I was in Velcro until like first grade.”
“Oh, great,” I tease, “We’re going to have the only six year old on the block who can’t tie her shoes. Way to go, Dad.”
“Hey now,” he scowls at me, “You better watch it.”
I grin up at him, moving closer. “And just what are you going to do about it, huh, tough guy?”
“I’ll think of something,” he smirks, and I laugh with delight. His face softens, and he smiles at me. “I love you, Hales.”
I blink, surprised. It isn’t that he doesn’t say it enough; it’s just that sometimes, he says it at the oddest times. “I love you, too, Nathan.”
“I just want to make sure I say that enough.”
“I know it, Nathan. That’s enough.”
He shakes his head. “It isn’t, though. I’ve put you through a lot; you and Mere. I want to maek that up to you. And maybe the first step in that is to tell you that as often as I remember it.”
Sensing how important this is to him, I smile widely at him. “Well, that is one thing I will never be opposed to hearing from you. Or saying to you, Nathan. I hope you know how much I love you. I hope you know that I’m completely here for you, no matter what you need.”
“Yeah,” he nods, “Maybe that’s not what I deserve, though.”
“Please,” I warn him, “Please don’t start that, especially not today. Besides, it isn’t an argument you can win. You know that. I get to decide what to give you, and that’s all of me, everything I have. You don’t get to decide what I think you’re worth or what I think you deserve.”
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, forcing a smile onto his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to do that. Sometimes I just can’t help but think those things, though.”
“We all think those kinds of things,” I shrug, “But you just have to let them go sometimes. It’s not healthy to dwell on that, and it just weakens what we have.”
“I don’t mean to do that, Haley J.”
“I know, I really do,” I am quick to assure him, “And I get it. We need to be strong now, though, and if you doubt this, if you doubt me or us or even yourself, that’s just defeating the purpose, right?”
“I’ll try to be better,” he promises, smiling at me in indulgence. “So, when do we get to break out the cake? Because, and you know I love your cooking, that cake looks really damn good.”
“Ah uh,” I grin back at him, smacking him lightly on the rear, “You, just like Meredith and everyone else, will eat dinner before cake.”
His exaggerated pout starts me laughing, and he wraps his arms around me. “Mama!” Mere yells as she runs down the stairs.
“What?” I ask her as she hurtles herself at my legs. I roll my eyes at Nathan, and he bends down to scoop her up. She giggles at him when he makes a face at her.
“Pway with me!”
“I can’t right now, sweets,” I tell her, kissing her nose, “I have to finish making dinner and stuff. You take Daddy out to play, okay?”
“No, Mama, you!” she insists in a loud whine, holding her arms out to me, “I wanna pway you!”
“Meredith Ryan,” I sigh, not taking her, “If you want to play, go with Daddy and Sammy.”
She frowns at me, squirming to be let down. “I not pway!” she announces huffily as Nathan sets her on her feet, hurt swimming in the deep blue pools of his eyes. She storms back up the stairs, and I bite my lip, hoping this doesn’t upset Nathan further.
“Our daughter is a brat,” he notes casually, his gaze lingering on the stairs she disappeared up, “Maybe we should do something about that.”
“She’s not always a brat,” I defend, “But she is used to getting her way. I sort of worry about that, you know? She’s had our undivided attention for so long now, and when this baby comes…what if she resents it?”
He nods thoughtfully, glancing back my way. “We’ll figure it out if she does. But that’s normal anyway, right? That happens all the time? Crap, look at me, baby. I still resent my brother, right? I guess we know where she gets it.”
“Oh, Nathan,” I sigh, moving over to wrap him up in me, “Can you say extenuating circumstances much? Things between you and Luke, anyone in your family really, have never been normal. That’s just how it is, and things will settle eventually. Especially if you all try.”
“Yes, Mommy,” he grins, winking at me.
I roll my eyes at him, hands on my hips. “That’s not funny!” I shake my head, laughing when he pulls me back against him. Looking up at the clock, I groan. “I should go up and change. Finish the balloons for me?”
He nods, pressing kisses along my jaw line. “Sure. Put on something loose,” he suggests, lips on my neck as his fingers fiddle with the bottom hem of my shirt, “There’s no question that you’re pregnant in shirts like this one.”
“Nathan!” I exclaim, slapping his hands away when the feather light touches become unbearably ticklish, “Are you calling me fat?”
“Har, har,” he snickers, “I know I’ve made some dumb mistakes, but I don’t think I’m flat-out stupid, Haley J.”
“We’ll see about that yet,” I smirk, poking him in the ribs, “I’m going to send your daughter down in a minute. See if you can’t cheer her up some. I can just see her, sitting in the middle of huge stacks of presents, throwing a fit because you’re taking pictures instead of holding her, or something.”
He groans, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s your kid,” he smirks, winking at me, “All you when she’s acting like that.”
“Right,” I drawl out, “Because temper tantrums don’t run in your family or anything. Because none of you have a flair for the dramatic along with a huge sense of entitlement.”
He winks at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, go get dressed, pretty girl. I’ll get everything set out down here. People should be here soon. You know my mother will be early.”
“And here late,” I sigh, a little cattier than I really need to be. Deb is just, I don’t know, difficult. She can’t let things be easy, and she’s adopted this whole ‘she knows better than Nathan and I do about our own daughter’ thing that is really starting to piss me off.
“I’ll kick her out,” he states firmly, “If she acts up, if she upsets anyone, I’ll tell her to go.”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I assure him, “She’s just frustrating, and I hate that she looks at us with that whole disapproving gaze, like she knows what Mere needs so much better than we do. Can you imagine what happens when she finds out we’re having another one?”
“Like I said, loose shirt,” he grins, moving to fridge to begin taking things out, “But I mean it, Haley, if she starts anything, she can leave.”
“Same goes for everyone,” I laugh, “But I’m sure they’ll all be on their best behavior. It’s probably a moot point anyway.”
He shrugs, opening the oven to turn the vegetables I’d put in to roast. “Either way, I’m ready. You know how good at pissing them off and making them uncomfortable I am. If they’re acting up, I can use that power for good instead of evil.”
I laugh aloud at that, shaking my head. I probably shouldn’t do or say anything that encourages his self-created ostracism from his family, but when it’s just us, it feels so good to have our inside jokes, the things no one else can ever touch. Things that are just ours, no one else’s. That’s special, that’s important. That’s forever.
~*~
By the time everyone is here, things are crazy. Mere is chasing Eric around, and he’s doing his best to hide from her. Nathan, for his part, is doing his best to avoid his brother and father, and they seem to be doing the same. Deb came in and tried to ‘fix’ everything, which set me on edge. Brooke is harassing anyone who will listen with ‘cute’ Tim stories, while Tim stands by and looks mighty uncomfortable. Lola is nagging Luke about being nicer to Nathan. Karen is trying to put out the fires, and Keith is just standing around looking amused.
I’m trying not to stress out and worry about how everyone is interacting. With this group of people, I have to remember that there is always some drama going on, someone is pissed at someone, and that this is just how it is. I suppose that as long as Meredith is oblivious to the tension, then it doesn’t really matter. The second it affects her, though, I’m all over it.
“Well, that was a nice dinner,” Deb sniffs, setting her napkin down. “The sauce wasn’t as well seasoned as it could be, but the pasta was at least al dente.”
“It was a great sauce, Mom,” Nathan grounds out, his teeth clenched, “And since you can’t cook something that doesn’t come out of a box, maybe you shouldn’t talk.”
“Nathan!” Dan cuts in, sighing deeply, “Do you have to do that?”
“Yeah, nice, Dad, take anyone’s side but mine,” Nathan bitches back, crossing his arms over his chest angrily, “That’s just par for the course, I guess.”
“Knock it off,” Luke mutters, not even looking up when Lola elbows him hard in the side, “Why are you always so paranoid, thinking the world is out to get you?”
“Oh, what do you know?” Nathan grouses, slamming his fork down on the table, “You have no concept of how things are, what my life is like? And fuck, on top of that, no one - no one! - has ever asked for your opinion!”
“Both of you, stop it right now,” Dan says tiredly, rubbing his temples, “This is ridiculous. Nathan, I don’t understand your problem, whatever it is, with Luke and I, but part of that is you. You won’t talk to us about it.”
“Like you’d listen?”
Brooke rolls her eyes. “Please, Nathan, everyone in this family has given you a thousand and one opportunities to explain things to them. You’ve been shutting Luke out for years, and blaming it on him. Can’t you just grow up and deal with things like a man for a change.”
“Brooke,” Tim sighs, shaking his head urgently at her, “Don’t put your two cents in, please.”
“Oh, no,” Nathan cries in exasperation, “Why not? It’s not like anyone else is going to shy away here, right? Right, Mom? What do you think? Care to enumerate the ways in which I’m a failing? Care to say something else nasty or snide about the person you know is everything to me? What about you, Dan? How’s your weekly golf game with Luke going? Or your daily meetings at the gym for pick-up ball? And Luke, I’m sure you have something to say again, oh, maybe about how horrible I am for Haley? Let it out, I don’t know what’s stopping you!”
“Mama?” That’s Mere, and she’s looking at me with lower lip quivering and eyes filled with tears.
Standing up, I lift her out of her seat. “Go in the kitchen, sweets, and I’ll get you some cake.” She nods, still looking worried, but does as she’s told. “I think that this has been really lovely,” I snark, not even caring about anything or anyone but Mere right now, “I’m so glad that I had all of you over to my house to celebrate Mere’s birthday. You’ve all made this a really great night.”
“Well, Haley,” Deb begins, but I wave my hand cutting her off.
“No, no excuses. From any of you,” I snap, fixing a glare on Nathan, “You can stay in here and talk about your issues with each other, or you can pack up and head home. I’m going in the kitchen to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to my daughter, have some cake with her, and then open her presents. I really don’t give two shits what any of you do right now.” Sniffling, I glance over at Eric belatedly. “Eric, you can come with me, if you want. I think your parents might need to referee, though.”
He nods, walking over to me. I ignore the gazes of everyone else, not even caring about anything but having cake with my daughter right now. I put my arm around Eric’s shoulders, hugging him a little. He glances up at me, frowning. “Your belly is fat, Hales!”
Eight pairs of eyes swivel to look at me, their scrutinizing gazes immediately taking in what Eric just so kindly pointed out. That’s….great. This is really fricking great. Eric is two for two in outing my pregnancies now.
“Yeah, well,” I mumble, giving him a light shove towards the door, “Let’s go eat some cake and make it fatter, huh?”
Meredith is standing near the refrigerator, a gallon of milk spilled all over the floor at her feet. “What happened, sweets?” I ask. The second she sees me, the tears that have been filling her eyes for a bit now spill over.
“I spilled, Mommy!”
“It’s okay, I’ll clean it up, Mere. Here, let’s go sit at the table, and get you two your cake,” I suggest, lifting her up and guiding Eric towards the table, “You guys can eat, and then we’ll worry about the milk, okay? It’s okay, baby, it really is.”
Karen comes bustling into the kitchen, eyeing me carefully. “Eric, let’s get that cake to go, okay?” She glances at the milk on the floor, and grabs a towel to start cleaning it. “Haley, do you want us to stay and sing?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s necessary anymore. It’s - this was apparently a really poor idea, huh?”
“No, it wasn’t,” she counters, “This family is just really poor at…well, a lot of things, I suppose. So, congratulations?”
Huh?” I look up, flustered, “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” she says simply, and that’s all I needed to hear.
“Thank you,” I smile, much more sincere this time. “I’m excited.”
“Good,” she smiles, squeezing my hand, “Here, you keep your daughter away from the cake for five minutes, I’ll clear everyone out, and then you and Nathan can do the cake with her.”
“Oh, but Eric - “
“We’ll swing by the café and get him something, don’t worry. No one else needs to be here right now, and all things considered, they shouldn’t be.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, wishing things could be a little different. That we could be a normal family that could celebrate a small child’s birthday without having a nuclear meltdown of a fight. Maybe that’s something that we will never be able to be, something that is never going to happen for us.
She hustles Eric out of their after she finishes cleaning up the milk, and when she leaves, I pick up Mere and listen at the door as she kicks everyone else out, too. “So, munchkin, what do you think?” I ask her quietly, “Should we sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you?”
As I’m settling her at the table, Nathan comes in, looking so contrite that I can’t help but immediately let most of my anger go. I wave him in, and he gets the cake out of the fridge and the ice cream out of the freezer as I grab plates and utensils.
‘I’m sorry’ he mouths, and I know he is. I nod, brushing a hand over his chest as I pass him to get to the table. We sit down with Mere, one on either side of her, laughing as we loudly sing to her. We all blow out the candles together, and Mere giggles the whole time while Nathan and I take turns taking pictures of it. It sucks that we won’t have any of the three of us, but obviously that’s a side effect of kicking everyone out in the middle of the party.
We open her presents up next until she eventually falls asleep mid-present, conking out right here on the living room floor. Nathan takes her upstairs and puts her to bed, and I pile up her huge haul of new things and throw the torn paper into the garbage. When Nathan gets back down, I’m lying on the couch waiting for him.
“So that was quite the display,” I comment, trying to start this conversation out lightly.
He nods, looking miserable. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting down on the floor, leaning back against the couch, “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
“Yeah,” I agree softly, “I know that. But Nathan, it’s her birthday. This can’t - we can’t do this to her. It’s not fair, and it’s not right. If you can’t get along with them, then do we need to separate things? Have a birthday here with you, and then another one there with them? Because I’m at my wit’s end here. I want this to be okay for all of us, but right now, it’s okay for none of us.”
He nods earnestly, his head leaning back on the cushion, his face near my face. “I know, Haley J. I - and I keep saying this, don’t I? That I’ll try, that it will be different. Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I deal with this?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh, running my hand over his forehead, fingers tracing over the creases caused by his frown, “I’ve never understood it.”
“You think I’m being ridiculous, don’t you?”
“No, of course not,” I assure him, pressing a kiss to his temple, “I just don’t understand it. I really don’t. I wish it were different, I wish that you could let things be different, but I don’t doubt the validity of your feelings.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay with them. Just when I think maybe I can, maybe I can figure things out and be able to let go of the past, I see them, I see how they are together, and I can’t. I don’t know how to let it go.”
I puff out a frustrated breath, trying to find the right thing to say to him. “Okay, if that’s…if that is how it’s going to be, then I guess we’ll deal with it. I don’t think that’s how any of us want it, though.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he mutters, getting up. I sit up, too. “Am I supposed to just shrug and say ‘bygones’?”
“What do you want?” I ask him, suddenly unsure if we’ve ever talked about that aspect of it before, “What is it that you want from them, from your relationships with them?”
He pauses, blinking in surprise at the question. “I’ve never - I don’t know, I guess I haven’t thought of it much.”
“Maybe you should,” I suggest gently, “Maybe you should think about what it is you expect and want from your relationships with them. The way things are now is hard on all of us. Not just you, Dan, and Luke. It’s hard on the rest of the family, and God, it’s hard on Mere! She doesn’t understand, Nathan.”
“I know! You think I don’t know that, you seriously think I can’t see that? That it doesn’t break me up inside?”
“I know it does,” I assure him soothingly, reaching out to catch him by the belt loops on his jeans and pull him towards me. “It doesn’t seem to factor into things, though. That’s what worries me about this.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” he asks tiredly, “Am I supposed to pretend that things are fine? God, we’ve had this conversation a million times, and nothing ever changes.”
“Do you want to stop talking about it? If you want, we can,” I tell him, feeling a little tired myself, “I’m not trying to push you on this. I just want things to calm down. We have Mere, and soon we’ll have another one. I would love it if we could hang out with their family - all of us - without killing each other, once in a while.”
He sits down beside me, pulling me onto his lap. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles in my ear, “This is hard for you, I know that. I don’t want to put you in the middle, I hope you know that.”
I nod, resting my head on his shoulder. “I know, but I’m still there. I just - okay, you know that I’m one hundred percent on your side, right? But Nathan, Luke is my best friend, and that’s not - I don’t like that I feel like it’s coming down to you or him. I really don’t. Please don’t make this into that, I don’t know what I’d do.”
I’ve said these things to him before, and he’s said his parts to me, many times. It’s just not changing, no matter how many times one or both of us draws out what’s wrong and ways to fix it. All I know is that none of us should go on like this. We’ve got enough to deal with before the family strife is thrown. Maybe someday, we can start avoiding that altogether.
~*~May, 2014~*~
“This is so great,” Nathan enthuses, taking his hands off the steering wheel long enough to rub his hands together, “I can’t believe I missed all this for Mere. It’s really something.”
I beam at him; I can’t help it, I’m just so happy these days. There was probably a time in my younger life when I would’ve scoffed at this notion of myself, but here it is. I’m happy, and I like it.
“I’m glad you were here for this,” I tell him with all the sincerity in my heart. Last time out, it was Brooke, Karen, or Deb accompanying me to all of my doctor appointments. This time, I have Nathan here to do that, and it’s just - not to take anything away from them - amazing.
He looks over at me, a huge, beaming smile on his face. “I am, too. It was so hard last time for me, not being involved at all with your pregnancy. It is really great that I have another chance to experience it.”
I lean my head back against the headrest, smiling back at him. “It was hard the first time,” I admit. “I don’t think I even realized how hard until now, getting to do this with you. It just really drove that home, you know?”
“We’re here,” he notes, leaning over to kiss me, “Have fun with the wedding planning.”
“You could at least say that with a straight face,” I pout. He’s getting such a kick over Brooke enlisting me to help with everything. There’s no doubt that all of this is going to be outrageously huge and gaudy and crazy, and I’m somehow smack-dab in the middle of it.
“Oh, like you won’t have a little bit of fun,” he grins, winking at me, “I’m going to pick Mere up from Karen and Keith’s and take her out for an early dinner. Maybe I’ll let her pick out a new toy.”
“Don’t you dare!” I gasp, poking him in the ribs, “You’re always saying how spoiled she is; let’s not add to that, okay?”
He leans back over to kiss me again. “Okay, no new toys. But I might get some ice cream. Want any?”
“Oh, honey, you don’t have to pretend like I’m not getting ice cream chubby,” I smirk, patting my belly, “It’s pretty obvious what’s going on here.”
“Yeah, you’re just porking out,” he sighs sarcastically, shaking his head, “Like the doctor didn’t just practically beg you to put on some weight. Fat jokes aren’t going to work, babe. You’re definitely getting ice cream. The gallon size, too; not any of that pint crap.”
“How you spoil me,” I intone dramatically, earning another kiss from him. “Okay, I should go before she sends out the cavalry to retrieve me from your wicked grasp.”
“That could be fun in its own way, though,” he muses, and push him playfully on the shoulder, “Okay, I’m going to wear our daughter out today so that you and I can have the house to ourselves this evening.”
“Are you going to clean, too, Super Dad?” I ask hopefully, batting my eyelashes at him in an overdramatic fashion.
He groans good-naturedly. “If I must.”
Opening the door, I smile at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, you must,” I tease, “Scrub those floors well.”
“You’re evil,” he laughs, shaking his head, “Is putting me to work in the house your way of telling me its time to get a job?”
I wink at him as I leave the car. “I don’t know, Nathan. You in an apron - and maybe nothing else - is kind of sexy.” He grins at that. Smirking at him, I deliver the blow. “Very Tony Danza circa 1988.”
His mouth opens and closes like a fish’s for a moment before he snaps it shut. “I cannot believe you just…Tony Danza? Really?”
Laughing, I shut the door, blowing him a kiss as he rolls the window down. “Love you, Nathan.”
“I’m getting a job!” he calls out as I make my way up the walk of the house that had been my home a few years ago, “A real one, that never, ever involves aprons! Or vacuums! Or cooking!”
I wave over my shoulder at him, trying not to laugh anymore at his expense. Honestly, though, if this propels him into getting a job, I won’t complain. While there are financial concerns, particularly when factoring in the type of lifestyle that Nathan has a propensity for, there are the more pressing issues. I really think that the boredom that is beginning to set in for him is a hindrance to his recovery. He needs something to be motivated for, and he needs to feel like he’s accomplishing something.
It comes down to his happiness, which is directly related to his sobriety, which may or may not be related to what he does career-wise. Of course, I think that plays into all of our lives, but this is his choice to make, and I want him to do what is right for him.
It comes down to his happiness, which is directly related to his sobriety, which may or may not be related to what he does career-wise. Of course, I think that plays into all of our lives, but this is his choice to make, and I want him to do what is right for him.
Pushing thoughts of Nathan out of my mind, I let myself into Brooke and Tim’s house. To my horror, they’re on the stairs, completely, totally buck naked. Squeezing my eyes shut and covering my ears with my hands, I spin around, slamming the door shut.
“Oh, my God, oh, my God,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head as if to clear it, “Shit, this is what you get for not knocking. Oh, my God.”
“Haley!” Brooke calls through the door, sounding mildly panicked. Yeah, like she knows. Whatever. “Get back in here, we’re almost decent!”
“Almost does not count!” I assert hotly, “God, you knew I was coming over! You know I never knock! What were you thinking, Brooke?”
“I’m sorry!” she yells back, “I wasn’t thinking of anything except getting my hands on Tim’s hot - “
“Stop!” I squeak out, again covering my ears, “I don’t need to know about - or, dear God, see - all aspects of your life! Especially the naked aspects, Brooke!”
I can hear her laughing as Tim speaks to her in a tone too low for me to hear through the door. I tap my foot impatiently, embarrassed at having seen that much of my friends, especially in that position. Maybe I should be a little more laissez-faire about the whole thing, but I can’t quite summon that up right now.
Sighing, I sit down on the step, resting my arms across my rapidly expanding belly. It’s getting bigger every day, I swear, but Nathan is right, I’m too thin still. I’ve been doing better lately, but even without the doctor stating it, too, it’s obvious that I’m not gaining pregnancy weight like I should. Right now I look more like one of those chicken-legged women you see on soaps whose close are stuffed with giant pillows when their character gets pregnant.
It’s not the cutest look in the world.
As I’m waiting, a car pulls up and parks on the street. It’s Jason. I vaguely recall Brooke saying that Tim was going golfing with Jason while we planned things, but it wasn’t something I paid much attention to. He slowly walks up the path, and I wonder if he’s as unenthusiastic about talking as I am.
“Uh, hey,” he greets me awkwardly, and I smile tightly at him in return. “I’m just here to pick Tim up. I’ll just go inside.”
“Probably not a good idea,” I tell him quietly. We talked at Luke’s birthday, and though we’ve been at the same functions since then, we haven’t talked at all. “When I arrived, they were, um, not ready or fit for company. And I’m sure you want to see Tim’s naked ass even less than I do, so I’d suggest waiting.”
He raises his eyebrows at that, but nods, sitting down on the step beside me. “So, how are you?”
“You don’t have to make small talk with me, Jason,” I tell him politely, not wanting him to feel obligated to make conversation.
“Ever the martyr, huh?” At my look, he continues. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. But you have to admit, you have something of a history of acting like you think the world hates you. And the world doesn’t really hate you; in fact, it seems to like you a lot.”
“It wasn’t about playing the martyr,” I inform him stiffly, “It wasn’t about playing anything. I’m sorry you felt that way.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on, you live a charmed life. Yeah, I guess you’ve had some bad times, I won’t dispute that, but no matter what mistakes you make, you still end up with the world handed to you on a silver platter.”
I raise my eyebrows at that, letting irritation wash over me. “And how would you know?” I snip out tartly, “You know nothing of what my life is like, or how hard I had to work for it? And why do you even care, Jason?”
He holds his hands up in the air in a peace gesture. “I’m not saying life isn’t hard for you, because I know it has been. But let’s face it, you want Nathan back? You get him back.”
Gaping at him, I stand up. “That took a year! That took a long and very awkward year where I was constantly worried that I had messed everything up for all of us forever. And I’m sorry, really sorry for everything that happened, but it’s not like things were all peachy and happy for me either.”
He rolls his eyes, scoffing at my statement. “You always throw in the wounded animal act. It gets tiresome, Haley. Really tiresome.”
“Well, who the hell asked you?” I snap, pushing laboriously to my feet, “Nobody asked you! Nobody cares about your opinion anymore, least of all me.”
“Did you ever?” he counters, jumping to his feet, “Did you ever care about anything or anyone other than your precious Nathan?”
Shaking my head, I turn my back on him. I don’t want to have this conversation. Hell, I don’t have to have it, either. It’s been years since I made those mistakes, and I paid my penance for them. It obviously wasn’t the penance he wanted, but in the end, that isn’t his choice.
“You going to run away again?” he asks, and I know he’s right behind me. I want to give in and move away from him, but letting him intimidate isn’t in the cards. “It’s what you do best, right?”
“Leave me alone,” I mutter, folding my arms protectively over my belly, as if that could shield the baby from the words and emotions.
“It’s all about you,” he continues taunting me, “You never cared about how you hurt anyone, did you? Even now, you can’t talk about it. You can’t give a decent explanation.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Nathan says from behind me, and I freeze. I turn to face him, relieved that he doesn’t look angry. He steps over to my side, glaring at Jason. “You forgot your purse, Haley J.”
Nodding, I smile when he takes my hand. “Thank you for bringing it back. There were some notes in there that Brooke would’ve killed me for not having.” He looks down at me, the question plainly written on his face. “I’m okay, I promise.”
He hands me the purse, leaning down to kiss me softly. “Okay.” He looks over at Jason. “Leave my wife alone. I’ll tolerate your proximity for our family and friends’ sakes, but that’s out the window if you even look in her direction again.”
“Nathan,” I sigh, not wanting any kind of confrontation.
“Your wife?” Jason snarks, “I got closer to marrying her than you ever did. Of course, you went about it in a smarter way - why bother buying it when she gives it away for free?”
Nathan’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t swing, which is huge for him. “You know nothing,” he taunts, his face relaxing to a smirk, “I’m not surprised, though. It isn’t really any of your business that Haley and I were married in high school. Always would’ve been, if our parents hadn’t forced us to annul it.”
Jason’s jaw drops a little at that, and he seems to deflate. Brooke and Tim come stumbling out at that moment, Brooke hopping on one foot as she tries to put her second shoe on. Nathan raises his eyebrows at them, but doesn’t say anything.
“God, Haley, you have got to start knocking!” Tim chastises me, and I nod emphatically in agreement. Lord knows I never want to see that again.
“Yeah, that won’t be a problem, believe me,” I mutter, leaning into Nathan’s side a little, “Okay, we should get started, Tigger. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He nods, smiling down at me. “Yeah, we’ll be waiting for you.”
Brooke looks at me appraisingly as he walks off, taking my arm and leading me towards the house. “What was that all about?”
“Jason had a few things to say to me,” I shrug dismissively, leaning my head on her shoulder, “And I’d forgot my purse, so Nathan came back in the middle of it.”
“Jason had ‘words’ for you?” she repeats, baffled, “What the hell? It’s been like, a whole lifetime, or something, and he really needs to get over himself already. I mean, honestly, I’d thought he was over it.”
“I don’t know,” I shrug, “I’ve talked to him once, since I’ve been back, and that was for about a minute and a half. It was just weird.”
She shakes her head. “If Tim kicks his ass, I will give him the blowjob of all time as a reward.”
“Overshare,” I squeak, crinkling my nose at her, “Did not need to have any kind of visual regarding that.”
“Oh, you can be such a prude sometimes,” she admonishes me, shaking her head as she laughs at my alleged prudishness, “You gotta live a little. Even if it is vicariously.”
I shake my head, bumping hips with her. “Not if it means hearing all about you and Tim’s great sex-ventures, thanks.”
“Ugh, so prim,” she laughs, pulling me into the house, “God, it’s cold out here. If spring doesn’t get sprung soon, I’m going to have to have a little chat with someone. And by little, I mean big, giant yelling fit.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less,” I smirk, following her into the kitchen, “Um, this place has been sanitized recently, right?”
“Ha, ha,” she mutters sarcastically, pulling out this huge binder. Inwardly groaning, I know exactly what it is - and I know exactly where she got the idea. “Ta da! It’s my dream wedding portfolio!”
“Okay,” I sigh, slightly amused, slightly terrified, “Spell it out for me: what are we talking about here?”
”The biggest, splashiest, wildest wedding this side of TV!”
“Oookay,” I nod, sitting down at the table, “And when do you plan to throw this spectacular extravaganza?”
“As soon as possible,” she states without even the slightest trace of humor or irony. She’s serious. I know Brooke, and I know when she says big, splashy, and wild, she means wild, splashy, and big. There ain’t no two ways about it. It is what it is, and what it is is crazy.
“Um, hold up there, Barbie,” I blink, trying to think of a diplomatic way to put this in which Brooke will understand, “I know you want your dream wedding, and I know you want it soon, but maybe you should think about this logistically.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, bewildered, “I want both. I want the thirteen-tiered almond genoise with frangipane, chantilly cream, and raspberries, finished with a smooth buttercream with classic beadwork! I want it to be dripping with real flowers and taste like the finest desserts in Europe.”
Okay, she’s finally gone around the bend. “Brooke, I get that, I really do, but think practical. Just a little.”
She shakes her head, still mystified. “How can I do that? This is my wedding! My big, fancy, huge wedding, and so what if I want it to be perfect? So what if it want it to be extravagant and flashy and showy? When else will I ever have another chance to do this?” she pauses, blinking owlishly. “Unless that’s it, and you think I’ll have plenty of opportunities, because I’ll become some sort of Erica Kane-esque serial bride that marries and divorces and sleeps with every man that comes her way!”
It takes me a second to catch up to her tirade. Not many people can take a tangent and run with it the way Brooke Davis can. Of course, I think she picked up some of that rambly babble from me.
“Calm down,” I instruct her, “That’s not what I meant, and you damn well know it. Jeez, get a grip already.”
“I’m sorry,” she sighs, collapsing into the chair next to mine, “This is all so overwhelming, and I want to be married this summer. I just want a beautiful summer wedding, outside, with all the trees and flowers in bloom with gorgeous dresses and a huge, decadent cake, and lots and lots of white chiffon.”
I roll my eyes, pretending to be exasperated. “Great, we can all look like big puffs of meringue, huh?”
“Well, sexy meringue, but yeah, I guess so,” she smirks, shrugging, “Come on, help me. Please. I need your expertise!”
“What expertise? I’ve never planned a wedding, remember?”
“I know, but you’re always so good at these types of things, and you’re an interior designer, so you only have that arty aesthetic for table arrangements and such, but you’ve got an in with the wholesalers. You can get me discounts!”
I nod, knowing that there’s no way I couldn’t, and really, no way I wouldn’t help her in any way possible. “I’ll do whatever I can. Just keep in mind that I’m going to be hugely pregnant soon, and what I can do might be fairly limited.”
She waves that off with a flourish of her hand. “Oh, please, that’s a very antiquated attitude to take on this, Haley James. Pregnant ladies are people, too, and they can do anything anyone else can.”
Snorting, I kick her under the table. “You remember that when it’s 98 degrees outside, my ankles are swollen to three times their normal size, and I’m yelling at you for making me wear something with a hoopskirt and that no, I can’t get an additional 600 white roses or tea candles before the ceremony starts in five minutes.”
“Hey!” she exclaims, laughing with me, “There will be no hoopskirts! Last minute requests that are seemingly not able to be fulfilled, sure, but no hoopskirts! Oh, the horror!”
“And I’m not wearing couture,” I warn her preemptively, “Or gaudy jewelry. Seriously, Brooke, if you have it this summer, you do realize I’ll still be pregnant, right?”
“So?” she sniffs dismissively, “We can work around that. With, we can work with it. Um, that’s what I meant.”
I giggle at that, shaking my head. “Oh, whatever. Seriously, though, when are you thinking?”
“August 16th,” she sighs dreamily, “It’s always so pretty that time of year, and we can have it out at one of the historical houses or something. Just something pretty and - “
“And yeah, yeah, extravagant and crazy and obscene and emotional and sugar and spice and everything nice,” I intone dryly, shaking my head. Do I think she’s crazy? Yeah, one hundred percent certifiable. Do I want this to be the best day of their lives? Yeah, to the point that I’m pretty sure I’m always certifiable.
She beams brightly at me. “Exactly! Oh, I knew you’d get it!”
Shaking my head, I nod. “Well, I wouldn’t say I completely get it, but I know about wanting to have the perfect day.”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “So, um, you’re cool with this, right? I mean, since you and Nathan aren’t married, and don’t really seem too close to being there, it’s okay, right?”
“We’ve always been close to being there,” I contradict her, “And when the time is right, for us, and our kids, then we’ll just do it. So yeah, I’m completely cool with it. I’m happy for you guys, so happy.”
She smiles hugely, blinking back tears as she scoots her chair closer so she can hug me. “God, I know this is selfish and a little horrible, but I’m so happy that you’re here now for this. I would probably go crazy without you here, trying to be calm and plan a wedding.”
“I’m glad to be here for this, too,” I agree, hugging her back, “This will be fun. But we really need to get started. And really, you have to know that I’m not going to be able to give you as much time as I would’ve five years ago, right? There’s Mere and Nathan and the baby and me, and we’re all time hogs.”
“I can be a time hog, too,” she exclaims, laughing, “But really, I know. And I only want the time that you have to spare, I promise.” She pauses, tilting her head to the side as she thinks about it. “I’ll probably need more than that, but I won’t ask for it or expect it. Promise.”
“Thanks,” I grin, a little relieved. I don’t know that I’m convinced it will hold, but at least I know the second I play the ‘pregnant’ or ‘family’ cards, she’ll see reason and let me make my escape.
“So Mere will have to be my flower girl, of course. Oh, she’ll love that, right? She won’t get weird about it, will she? I don’t want to put her up there if she’s weird about it. Or if it makes her nervous or something.”
Rolling my eyes, I nod. “She’ll be fine. You know that she loves those kinds of things, being the center of attention.”
Brooke snorts, smirking at me. “Yeah, like that’s worked out so well for her so far. God, don’t delude yourself.”
“What does that mean?” I ask stiffly, having a fairly good idea of what I’m going to hear from her.
“Hello, her birthday? Nathan quite effectively ruined that, wouldn’t you say? Oh, and Christmas, when he shut you guys up in your house and wouldn’t let you venture out to spend the holiday with the people that actually love and care and want the best for you!” she exclaims hotly, not even bothering to hold back in this, “I’m so sick of him winning! You let him get away with bloody murder, Haley! And you defend him, and keep going back for more.”
Standing up, I lean forward, putting my hands on the table, palms down. “You’re so far off base on most of that that you can’t even see the base where you are. Don’t talk about things that you don’t know or understand, can’t know or understand.”
“Like it takes being the one he hurts over and over to get it? Get real! I’ve seen firsthand, with my own eyes, what he’s done to you and Mere! He cheated on you, and you’re all la di da about it! You act like it didn’t happen, like it doesn’t matter if it did. And Mere, well, he’s been putting her in danger for years now, but I guess that’s okay now, too.”
Pushing back from the table, I spin around, heading for the door. I hear the scraping of her chair on the tiled floor as she shoves back, getting up to follow me. “You don’t know anything, Brooke. Nothing about my daughter, or Nathan, and, apparently, me. So just stop. Stop while you’re not completely behind.”
“Haley, stop!” she yells, and I comply, stopping in my tracks. I don’t know why - I don’t think I should, but I do anyway. “God, would you please just listen to me for a second? I’m sorry, I know I’m saying things you don’t want to hear, but maybe - maybe you should.”
Shaking my head, I turn back to face her. “Maybe you don’t know what you’re talking about here.”
“Maybe not,” she concedes, “But I know that you’re my best friend, and that you and Mere are two of the most important people in the world to me. Really. Maybe you don’t believe that right this second, but it’s true, and you know it.”
“Does that matter?” I wonder aloud, almost wryly, “Does it matter when you’re trashing my decisions, the love of my life, everything that I’ve chosen for myself and my child?”
“I’m doing it because I love you, because I want you both to be okay. And you know what? I know what you’ll say about me and Nathan - I don’t like him, I don’t give a good God damn about it, and no, I never have. You’re right, I don’t. I’ve tried to put up with him, and I can’t, not really. He’s just - just, “she sputters, gesturing wildly with her hands in overblown movement, “He’s a jerk!”
Taking a deep breath, I look her in the eye. “He’s not a jerk. He’s made mistakes, a lot of them. But he knows that better than anyone, and I don’t appreciate you throwing them in my face. I really don’t. We’re dealing with all of this, and you - you have no right to slam him, none! Do you know how hard it is for him? Do you have any clue what kind of humiliation and sorrow and regret he’s going through? God, I can’t believe this. I really can’t.”
“Of course you can’t!” she shoots back, “You’ve always - always! - been blind to his faults! But that’s never stopped you from making him your number one, has it?”
“He’s my heart, Brooke. He’s my family, my home. He’s who Tim is for you. And I’m sorry that that isn’t enough for you, but it is for me. It’s everything, in fact.”
I walk out the door, and this time she doesn’t stop me and I don’t turn around. Neither of us says anything, and all I hear are my footsteps echoing over the parquet floor that I’ve traveled many, many times.
When the door clicks shut behind me, it somehow feels like it has shut forever.
‘So if not for me,
Then you do it for yourself.’ - S. Nicks, K. Olsen
~*~March, 2014~*~
My baby is three today. She’s getting so big, so smart, that for a second or two, I wish I could turn back time and start all over with her again in that hospital. Well, maybe not the part where I was squeezing out all nine pounds eight ounces of her overdue butt, but the rest of it, yeah. It’d be so nice to relive all the great moments, the firsts, and share them with Nathan. He missed so many the first time around, always traveling and then later in the throes of addiction.
This year is different, undoubtedly. At this time last year, things were starting to fall apart. Nathan missed Mere’s party entirely, and I was so angry with him over it. I was a fool, though, too, and not only did I forgive him almost instantaneously, but I didn’t really question why he would miss it. We both failed on so many levels, but I suppose that only hindsight is twenty/twenty.
Now we’re doing better, though. Things aren’t perfect, but I think both of us have come to accept that they never truly can be. Life isn’t perfect, and when things go badly, we just have to learn to deal with it. Roll with the punches, so to speak. I think this is something that we’ll get better at as time goes on. We have to, really.
One of the strikes in our favor is that we are learning and trying to communicate as adults. We have a long ways to go in this, but I think we’re getting better. In some ways, this is the first time in our lives together that we’ve really tried to communicate openly, verbally. That is something both of us have been so poor at, honestly speaking with the other, both so afraid of saying something that would damage us.
Maybe in that one, tiny sense, this ordeal has been good for us. It has gone a long way towards teaching us that we’re stronger than we thought we were, that we’re not just going to break apart at the drop of the hat. Maybe that was a lesson we needed to learn, even if it came at a huge price for all of us.
“Mama!” Mere yells loudly, breaking me out of my reverie. Her lungs are growing right up along with the rest of her, I can’t help but think with an internal sigh. “Mommy!”
Groaning, I put down the balloons I was tying to the backs of chairs, and head towards the living room to see what she wants this time. She’s so excited about her party, and being a ‘big girl’, that she’s barely allowed me a second of peace. Nathan went to a meeting, citing the need to be at his ‘sober best’ when spending the day with his father and brother.
I still don’t understand his inferiority complex about that, but at this point, I don’t know what else I can do about it. Trying to assure him that Dan loves him, too, and that Luke wants to figure things out just irritates him, so maybe the best bet is for me to step aside and let him work out his problems with them on his own. If he can make even the tiniest bit of progress with Deb, then he can figure these out, too.
“What’s wrong, Mere?” I ask when I get out there, finding her on the floor glaring angrily - and with tear-filled eyes - at her shoes, “Aw, kiddo, what’s the matter?”
“Mama, bad shoes,” she cries, the tears cascading down her cheeks, “They mean!”
I sit down on the floor next to her, and she is immediately launching herself into my arms. “What did the mean shoes do to you?” I ask with feigned shock and sympathy, trying to figure out what the problem is exactly.
“They’re mean!” she cries again, burying her face in my chest, “Fix them, Mama!”
“Baby, I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” I whisper soothingly, “Show Mama what’s wrong with them, okay?”
She pulls back sniffling, but nods determinedly. She pulls the shoes on, and as soon as she starts fiddling with the laces, it is clear what the deal is.
“Oh, Merry, do you need me to tie your shoes?” I ask her with smile. She puffs out a breath in frustration, pouting as she nods her head. “When you need your shoes on, come get me, sweets. Don’t cry about it.”
”Cuz I’m a big girl?” she questions innocently, her soft curls bobbing as she tips her head down to watch me tie her shoes, “Me do it.”
“It’s hard,” I warn her, “We’ll practice, okay?” I can’t tell her no, she can’t learn to tie her shoes, but at the same time I doubt this is something that a just turned three year old is really capable of doing. The manual dexterity is just not quite there yet.
She’s leaning back against me, but cranes her head back to look up at me with smiling eyes. “Yay, Mommy!”
“Yay!” I cheer with her, laughing softly, “Oh, my baby girl, I love you so much.”
“Mommy,” she giggles, trying to squirm out of my arms, “I find Sammy.”
“Okay, go find Sammy,” I encourage her, even though I’d rather keep holding her. She takes off immediately, and I sigh. “It’s not like I don’t have a zillion things to do for the party,” I mutter to myself.
Pushing to my feet, I take a deep breath. I’d been doing better in this pregnancy, less tiredness, less nausea, but this last I have just been so tired. I don’t know if it is the combination of work and party planning, which I insisted on taking on from Nathan, but whatever it is, it has me hard. If I could lie down on the couch now, I’d probably sleep until Nathan came home to wake me up. Or Mere got bored of playing with the dog and wanted entertainment.
I finish up in the kitchen, putting the final touches on the food - foolishly, I made everything other than the cake myself - and the decorations. This is the first of her birthdays that we’ve been able to celebrate in Tree Hill, so I feel this added pressure to make it special not just for her, but for all of the family, too. That’s probably completely unfounded on my part, but I want this to be nice. Nathan asked if I was overcompensating because of how things stood between him and his family, and while I said it wasn’t, maybe that is a factor.
I have so much appreciation for how great Luke and Dan both have been for me not only this past year, but before that. Sometimes I think that Nathan forgets that they’ve both done a lot for me, been supportive of me. Or maybe he resents that it didn’t transcend to him the way he wanted it to, needed it to.
Shaking my head, I resolve not to worry about any of their drama for the rest of the day. Today is about Mere, not them, and if any of them step a toe out of line, I’ll be on their case so fast they won’t even know what hit them.
The party is set to start at four, so that we have time to socialize for awhile before dinner at six. I should’ve bumped it up earlier, to mid-day, and forgone dinner - it’s not like Mere will care at all - but having her cake and ice cream and presents will be enough for her, even if she has to sit through dinner first.
“Hey babe, I’m back!” Nathan calls out from the foyer, “Where are you?”
“Daddy!” I hear Mere shriek in response, and I can’t keep the smile off of my face, “Daddy, come find me, I hided!”
I can hear his light groan, and I have to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Every day she wants to play this new game of hers. Whenever Nathan comes in from outside, she immediately takes off to hide - always in the tub in her bathroom, from which her giggles and Sammy’s whine can clearly be heard - from him. And he always trudges through the house, looking in every closet, under every bed, and behind every door for her.
“Gee, where could she be?” Nathan asks loudly, rolling his eyes at me as he makes a show of loudly opening and closing doors in the kitchen, “Hey baby, how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I beam at him, opening my arms for a hug, “I’m glad you are back. As soon as you ‘find’ our daughter, you can help me throw the last of these things together.”
“Oh, yay,” he smirks, popping a quick kiss on my lips, “Okay, as much as I’d rather stay here and do more of that, someone will be very upset if I don’t ‘find’ her in a minute.”
He backs away from me, heated promises in his eyes. “How was the meeting?” I ask quietly, wanting to be involved with this, in any way that he’ll let me. I want to help him, I need to help him, and even if that’s just over and over showing him that I’m here to listen if he needs it.
“It was good for me,” he smiles, coming back over to kiss me once again, a little longer and deeper this time. And then Mere starts banging on the wall of the shower, yelling for her daddy to come find her ‘now’. “Ugh,” he sighs, “Do we have to play this game every single night?”
“She’ll get bored with it,” I assure him, smiling, “Eventually.”
“Yeah, it’s that eventually that I worry about,” he smirks back at me, his hands drifting down my back around to my belly, “They’re gonna notice. I’m telling you, someone will say something today.”
I roll my eyes, not worried about it. I’m not really showing that much, so I think we’re safe for a bit. Both of us are enjoying the pregnancy being about just us so much that I haven’t even considered telling anyone yet. “I think we’re safe for awhile yet.”
“If you say so,” he demurs, shrugging doubtfully, “We’ll see.”
“It’ll still be our little secret for a few more weeks,” I assure him, pushing him towards the stairs, “Go find our daughter before she stomps her way through the bathroom floor.”
“Shh,” he whispers theatrically, “You aren’t supposed to tell me where she is!”
I roll my eyes, shoving him harder. “Go,” I order trying not to laugh at how goofy he’s being. He kisses me one last time before jogging up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I shake my head, a little amazed at how carefree and happy he seems. That’s…good, I know it is a good thing, but from what I’ve been reading, I’m worried about complacency in his recovery.
Recovering alcoholics and addicts hit plateaus - things are getting better, and then all of a sudden, they flatten out. From what I’ve read, there seems to be a concurrence that plateaus tend to occur at six weeks, three months, six months, and nine months, in the first year. And we’re just approaching nine months.
I don’t know, maybe it isn’t fair of me to borrow trouble like this, but it worries me. He did fairly well through the first six months, although his sixth month was a struggle, but this is still so new. It’s fragile, and as much as both he and I are going out of our ways to make sure that everything is cushy and safe for him. But we can’t live our lives in a bubble, in a cocoon, and we’re both very aware of the risks.
It’s worrying him, too; I can see that. I hate there is this additional stress and pressure on him on top of everything else. I want so badly to protect him from all of this, but that isn’t really my place or even within my power to do. So much of it is up to him, and I have to trust that he can do this, and that if he needs help, he asks the person who can give it to him. Even if I’m not that person.
Of course, I’d give anything to be that person for him. All I want is for him to know that he can lean on me, that I can be here for him in whatever ways he needs. His inclination has definitely been to shield me from things, even from him, when he’s thought I couldn’t handle it, but he’s underestimating in that regard. Anything he needs from me, I can and will find a way to give him. That’s just how it is.
But he has to ask, because I can’t read his mind. Life would be easier if I could, but that’s just not the case, and neither of us would really want that anyway. I just wish…I just wish I knew, I guess. I wish that I knew what he needed and could give it to him without him having to ask. I suppose asking is part of the process, whatever that is, but I know that is something that has never been easy for him.
I shouldn’t borrow trouble, I really shouldn’t. He’s working so hard right now, going to meetings and reading out of the Big Book, so I should have faith that this is going to be okay. That he’s doing his best, and that his best will be good enough. It has to be good enough, we have to make it good enough.
It’s just, in so many cases like this, the best isn’t always good enough. Even the people who seem like the have the best handle on their sobriety can slip, and I know how devastating it would be for Nathan if he slipped now. It would be bad for all of us, but I know that he would take it especially poorly. If I can help him avoid that, then I will do anything necessary. Right now, his health and well-being are my top priorities, along with Mere and this new baby.
“We need a name,” he says as he walks back into the kitchen, this time with Mere in his arms, upside down. “For the you-know-what,” he clarifies, as if I couldn’t figure it out.
I smile at him, rolling my eyes when Mere chimes in. “We need a name, Mama!”
“What do we need a name for, sweets?” I ask her, tickling her exposed belly. She shrieks with laughter, squirming around in her father’s tight grasp.
“Daddy!” she giggles, holding her arms out for me as soon as Nathan turns her upright. He gets a put out expression on his face when she does this; he thinks that she is still afraid of him a little bit. That she never quite recovered from him screaming at me in Seattle, and that it is holding her back from him. I don’t know what to tell him - I don’t see it, but that doesn’t really comfort him much, and he only sees what he wants to anyway.
“Mere,” he mimics quietly as he passes her off to me, sighing. “Mama’s girl.”
“Nathan,” I sigh, not sure what to say, “You know that’s not - “
“Yeah, I know,” he agrees quickly, leaning over to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Hey, go find your jacket, kiddo. You and Sammy can play out in the yard for a bit.”
She squirms to be let down, so I set her on the ground. I swear, she’s already running before her feet even hit the ground. Looking at Nathan, I sigh. “She’s three. Three!”
“I know,” he grins, “She’s huge. She’s getting so damn big I don’t even know what to do with her now. She got mad at me for trying to help her brush her teeth.”
“She wants to do everything by herself,” I agree. “She was upset earlier because she couldn’t tie her shoes.”
“She’s too little to tie her own shoes!” he exclaims, looking horrified by the idea, “I think I was in Velcro until like first grade.”
“Oh, great,” I tease, “We’re going to have the only six year old on the block who can’t tie her shoes. Way to go, Dad.”
“Hey now,” he scowls at me, “You better watch it.”
I grin up at him, moving closer. “And just what are you going to do about it, huh, tough guy?”
“I’ll think of something,” he smirks, and I laugh with delight. His face softens, and he smiles at me. “I love you, Hales.”
I blink, surprised. It isn’t that he doesn’t say it enough; it’s just that sometimes, he says it at the oddest times. “I love you, too, Nathan.”
“I just want to make sure I say that enough.”
“I know it, Nathan. That’s enough.”
He shakes his head. “It isn’t, though. I’ve put you through a lot; you and Mere. I want to maek that up to you. And maybe the first step in that is to tell you that as often as I remember it.”
Sensing how important this is to him, I smile widely at him. “Well, that is one thing I will never be opposed to hearing from you. Or saying to you, Nathan. I hope you know how much I love you. I hope you know that I’m completely here for you, no matter what you need.”
“Yeah,” he nods, “Maybe that’s not what I deserve, though.”
“Please,” I warn him, “Please don’t start that, especially not today. Besides, it isn’t an argument you can win. You know that. I get to decide what to give you, and that’s all of me, everything I have. You don’t get to decide what I think you’re worth or what I think you deserve.”
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, forcing a smile onto his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to do that. Sometimes I just can’t help but think those things, though.”
“We all think those kinds of things,” I shrug, “But you just have to let them go sometimes. It’s not healthy to dwell on that, and it just weakens what we have.”
“I don’t mean to do that, Haley J.”
“I know, I really do,” I am quick to assure him, “And I get it. We need to be strong now, though, and if you doubt this, if you doubt me or us or even yourself, that’s just defeating the purpose, right?”
“I’ll try to be better,” he promises, smiling at me in indulgence. “So, when do we get to break out the cake? Because, and you know I love your cooking, that cake looks really damn good.”
“Ah uh,” I grin back at him, smacking him lightly on the rear, “You, just like Meredith and everyone else, will eat dinner before cake.”
His exaggerated pout starts me laughing, and he wraps his arms around me. “Mama!” Mere yells as she runs down the stairs.
“What?” I ask her as she hurtles herself at my legs. I roll my eyes at Nathan, and he bends down to scoop her up. She giggles at him when he makes a face at her.
“Pway with me!”
“I can’t right now, sweets,” I tell her, kissing her nose, “I have to finish making dinner and stuff. You take Daddy out to play, okay?”
“No, Mama, you!” she insists in a loud whine, holding her arms out to me, “I wanna pway you!”
“Meredith Ryan,” I sigh, not taking her, “If you want to play, go with Daddy and Sammy.”
She frowns at me, squirming to be let down. “I not pway!” she announces huffily as Nathan sets her on her feet, hurt swimming in the deep blue pools of his eyes. She storms back up the stairs, and I bite my lip, hoping this doesn’t upset Nathan further.
“Our daughter is a brat,” he notes casually, his gaze lingering on the stairs she disappeared up, “Maybe we should do something about that.”
“She’s not always a brat,” I defend, “But she is used to getting her way. I sort of worry about that, you know? She’s had our undivided attention for so long now, and when this baby comes…what if she resents it?”
He nods thoughtfully, glancing back my way. “We’ll figure it out if she does. But that’s normal anyway, right? That happens all the time? Crap, look at me, baby. I still resent my brother, right? I guess we know where she gets it.”
“Oh, Nathan,” I sigh, moving over to wrap him up in me, “Can you say extenuating circumstances much? Things between you and Luke, anyone in your family really, have never been normal. That’s just how it is, and things will settle eventually. Especially if you all try.”
“Yes, Mommy,” he grins, winking at me.
I roll my eyes at him, hands on my hips. “That’s not funny!” I shake my head, laughing when he pulls me back against him. Looking up at the clock, I groan. “I should go up and change. Finish the balloons for me?”
He nods, pressing kisses along my jaw line. “Sure. Put on something loose,” he suggests, lips on my neck as his fingers fiddle with the bottom hem of my shirt, “There’s no question that you’re pregnant in shirts like this one.”
“Nathan!” I exclaim, slapping his hands away when the feather light touches become unbearably ticklish, “Are you calling me fat?”
“Har, har,” he snickers, “I know I’ve made some dumb mistakes, but I don’t think I’m flat-out stupid, Haley J.”
“We’ll see about that yet,” I smirk, poking him in the ribs, “I’m going to send your daughter down in a minute. See if you can’t cheer her up some. I can just see her, sitting in the middle of huge stacks of presents, throwing a fit because you’re taking pictures instead of holding her, or something.”
He groans, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s your kid,” he smirks, winking at me, “All you when she’s acting like that.”
“Right,” I drawl out, “Because temper tantrums don’t run in your family or anything. Because none of you have a flair for the dramatic along with a huge sense of entitlement.”
He winks at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, go get dressed, pretty girl. I’ll get everything set out down here. People should be here soon. You know my mother will be early.”
“And here late,” I sigh, a little cattier than I really need to be. Deb is just, I don’t know, difficult. She can’t let things be easy, and she’s adopted this whole ‘she knows better than Nathan and I do about our own daughter’ thing that is really starting to piss me off.
“I’ll kick her out,” he states firmly, “If she acts up, if she upsets anyone, I’ll tell her to go.”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I assure him, “She’s just frustrating, and I hate that she looks at us with that whole disapproving gaze, like she knows what Mere needs so much better than we do. Can you imagine what happens when she finds out we’re having another one?”
“Like I said, loose shirt,” he grins, moving to fridge to begin taking things out, “But I mean it, Haley, if she starts anything, she can leave.”
“Same goes for everyone,” I laugh, “But I’m sure they’ll all be on their best behavior. It’s probably a moot point anyway.”
He shrugs, opening the oven to turn the vegetables I’d put in to roast. “Either way, I’m ready. You know how good at pissing them off and making them uncomfortable I am. If they’re acting up, I can use that power for good instead of evil.”
I laugh aloud at that, shaking my head. I probably shouldn’t do or say anything that encourages his self-created ostracism from his family, but when it’s just us, it feels so good to have our inside jokes, the things no one else can ever touch. Things that are just ours, no one else’s. That’s special, that’s important. That’s forever.
~*~
By the time everyone is here, things are crazy. Mere is chasing Eric around, and he’s doing his best to hide from her. Nathan, for his part, is doing his best to avoid his brother and father, and they seem to be doing the same. Deb came in and tried to ‘fix’ everything, which set me on edge. Brooke is harassing anyone who will listen with ‘cute’ Tim stories, while Tim stands by and looks mighty uncomfortable. Lola is nagging Luke about being nicer to Nathan. Karen is trying to put out the fires, and Keith is just standing around looking amused.
I’m trying not to stress out and worry about how everyone is interacting. With this group of people, I have to remember that there is always some drama going on, someone is pissed at someone, and that this is just how it is. I suppose that as long as Meredith is oblivious to the tension, then it doesn’t really matter. The second it affects her, though, I’m all over it.
“Well, that was a nice dinner,” Deb sniffs, setting her napkin down. “The sauce wasn’t as well seasoned as it could be, but the pasta was at least al dente.”
“It was a great sauce, Mom,” Nathan grounds out, his teeth clenched, “And since you can’t cook something that doesn’t come out of a box, maybe you shouldn’t talk.”
“Nathan!” Dan cuts in, sighing deeply, “Do you have to do that?”
“Yeah, nice, Dad, take anyone’s side but mine,” Nathan bitches back, crossing his arms over his chest angrily, “That’s just par for the course, I guess.”
“Knock it off,” Luke mutters, not even looking up when Lola elbows him hard in the side, “Why are you always so paranoid, thinking the world is out to get you?”
“Oh, what do you know?” Nathan grouses, slamming his fork down on the table, “You have no concept of how things are, what my life is like? And fuck, on top of that, no one - no one! - has ever asked for your opinion!”
“Both of you, stop it right now,” Dan says tiredly, rubbing his temples, “This is ridiculous. Nathan, I don’t understand your problem, whatever it is, with Luke and I, but part of that is you. You won’t talk to us about it.”
“Like you’d listen?”
Brooke rolls her eyes. “Please, Nathan, everyone in this family has given you a thousand and one opportunities to explain things to them. You’ve been shutting Luke out for years, and blaming it on him. Can’t you just grow up and deal with things like a man for a change.”
“Brooke,” Tim sighs, shaking his head urgently at her, “Don’t put your two cents in, please.”
“Oh, no,” Nathan cries in exasperation, “Why not? It’s not like anyone else is going to shy away here, right? Right, Mom? What do you think? Care to enumerate the ways in which I’m a failing? Care to say something else nasty or snide about the person you know is everything to me? What about you, Dan? How’s your weekly golf game with Luke going? Or your daily meetings at the gym for pick-up ball? And Luke, I’m sure you have something to say again, oh, maybe about how horrible I am for Haley? Let it out, I don’t know what’s stopping you!”
“Mama?” That’s Mere, and she’s looking at me with lower lip quivering and eyes filled with tears.
Standing up, I lift her out of her seat. “Go in the kitchen, sweets, and I’ll get you some cake.” She nods, still looking worried, but does as she’s told. “I think that this has been really lovely,” I snark, not even caring about anything or anyone but Mere right now, “I’m so glad that I had all of you over to my house to celebrate Mere’s birthday. You’ve all made this a really great night.”
“Well, Haley,” Deb begins, but I wave my hand cutting her off.
“No, no excuses. From any of you,” I snap, fixing a glare on Nathan, “You can stay in here and talk about your issues with each other, or you can pack up and head home. I’m going in the kitchen to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to my daughter, have some cake with her, and then open her presents. I really don’t give two shits what any of you do right now.” Sniffling, I glance over at Eric belatedly. “Eric, you can come with me, if you want. I think your parents might need to referee, though.”
He nods, walking over to me. I ignore the gazes of everyone else, not even caring about anything but having cake with my daughter right now. I put my arm around Eric’s shoulders, hugging him a little. He glances up at me, frowning. “Your belly is fat, Hales!”
Eight pairs of eyes swivel to look at me, their scrutinizing gazes immediately taking in what Eric just so kindly pointed out. That’s….great. This is really fricking great. Eric is two for two in outing my pregnancies now.
“Yeah, well,” I mumble, giving him a light shove towards the door, “Let’s go eat some cake and make it fatter, huh?”
Meredith is standing near the refrigerator, a gallon of milk spilled all over the floor at her feet. “What happened, sweets?” I ask. The second she sees me, the tears that have been filling her eyes for a bit now spill over.
“I spilled, Mommy!”
“It’s okay, I’ll clean it up, Mere. Here, let’s go sit at the table, and get you two your cake,” I suggest, lifting her up and guiding Eric towards the table, “You guys can eat, and then we’ll worry about the milk, okay? It’s okay, baby, it really is.”
Karen comes bustling into the kitchen, eyeing me carefully. “Eric, let’s get that cake to go, okay?” She glances at the milk on the floor, and grabs a towel to start cleaning it. “Haley, do you want us to stay and sing?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s necessary anymore. It’s - this was apparently a really poor idea, huh?”
“No, it wasn’t,” she counters, “This family is just really poor at…well, a lot of things, I suppose. So, congratulations?”
Huh?” I look up, flustered, “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” she says simply, and that’s all I needed to hear.
“Thank you,” I smile, much more sincere this time. “I’m excited.”
“Good,” she smiles, squeezing my hand, “Here, you keep your daughter away from the cake for five minutes, I’ll clear everyone out, and then you and Nathan can do the cake with her.”
“Oh, but Eric - “
“We’ll swing by the café and get him something, don’t worry. No one else needs to be here right now, and all things considered, they shouldn’t be.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, wishing things could be a little different. That we could be a normal family that could celebrate a small child’s birthday without having a nuclear meltdown of a fight. Maybe that’s something that we will never be able to be, something that is never going to happen for us.
She hustles Eric out of their after she finishes cleaning up the milk, and when she leaves, I pick up Mere and listen at the door as she kicks everyone else out, too. “So, munchkin, what do you think?” I ask her quietly, “Should we sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you?”
As I’m settling her at the table, Nathan comes in, looking so contrite that I can’t help but immediately let most of my anger go. I wave him in, and he gets the cake out of the fridge and the ice cream out of the freezer as I grab plates and utensils.
‘I’m sorry’ he mouths, and I know he is. I nod, brushing a hand over his chest as I pass him to get to the table. We sit down with Mere, one on either side of her, laughing as we loudly sing to her. We all blow out the candles together, and Mere giggles the whole time while Nathan and I take turns taking pictures of it. It sucks that we won’t have any of the three of us, but obviously that’s a side effect of kicking everyone out in the middle of the party.
We open her presents up next until she eventually falls asleep mid-present, conking out right here on the living room floor. Nathan takes her upstairs and puts her to bed, and I pile up her huge haul of new things and throw the torn paper into the garbage. When Nathan gets back down, I’m lying on the couch waiting for him.
“So that was quite the display,” I comment, trying to start this conversation out lightly.
He nods, looking miserable. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting down on the floor, leaning back against the couch, “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
“Yeah,” I agree softly, “I know that. But Nathan, it’s her birthday. This can’t - we can’t do this to her. It’s not fair, and it’s not right. If you can’t get along with them, then do we need to separate things? Have a birthday here with you, and then another one there with them? Because I’m at my wit’s end here. I want this to be okay for all of us, but right now, it’s okay for none of us.”
He nods earnestly, his head leaning back on the cushion, his face near my face. “I know, Haley J. I - and I keep saying this, don’t I? That I’ll try, that it will be different. Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I deal with this?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh, running my hand over his forehead, fingers tracing over the creases caused by his frown, “I’ve never understood it.”
“You think I’m being ridiculous, don’t you?”
“No, of course not,” I assure him, pressing a kiss to his temple, “I just don’t understand it. I really don’t. I wish it were different, I wish that you could let things be different, but I don’t doubt the validity of your feelings.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay with them. Just when I think maybe I can, maybe I can figure things out and be able to let go of the past, I see them, I see how they are together, and I can’t. I don’t know how to let it go.”
I puff out a frustrated breath, trying to find the right thing to say to him. “Okay, if that’s…if that is how it’s going to be, then I guess we’ll deal with it. I don’t think that’s how any of us want it, though.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he mutters, getting up. I sit up, too. “Am I supposed to just shrug and say ‘bygones’?”
“What do you want?” I ask him, suddenly unsure if we’ve ever talked about that aspect of it before, “What is it that you want from them, from your relationships with them?”
He pauses, blinking in surprise at the question. “I’ve never - I don’t know, I guess I haven’t thought of it much.”
“Maybe you should,” I suggest gently, “Maybe you should think about what it is you expect and want from your relationships with them. The way things are now is hard on all of us. Not just you, Dan, and Luke. It’s hard on the rest of the family, and God, it’s hard on Mere! She doesn’t understand, Nathan.”
“I know! You think I don’t know that, you seriously think I can’t see that? That it doesn’t break me up inside?”
“I know it does,” I assure him soothingly, reaching out to catch him by the belt loops on his jeans and pull him towards me. “It doesn’t seem to factor into things, though. That’s what worries me about this.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” he asks tiredly, “Am I supposed to pretend that things are fine? God, we’ve had this conversation a million times, and nothing ever changes.”
“Do you want to stop talking about it? If you want, we can,” I tell him, feeling a little tired myself, “I’m not trying to push you on this. I just want things to calm down. We have Mere, and soon we’ll have another one. I would love it if we could hang out with their family - all of us - without killing each other, once in a while.”
He sits down beside me, pulling me onto his lap. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles in my ear, “This is hard for you, I know that. I don’t want to put you in the middle, I hope you know that.”
I nod, resting my head on his shoulder. “I know, but I’m still there. I just - okay, you know that I’m one hundred percent on your side, right? But Nathan, Luke is my best friend, and that’s not - I don’t like that I feel like it’s coming down to you or him. I really don’t. Please don’t make this into that, I don’t know what I’d do.”
I’ve said these things to him before, and he’s said his parts to me, many times. It’s just not changing, no matter how many times one or both of us draws out what’s wrong and ways to fix it. All I know is that none of us should go on like this. We’ve got enough to deal with before the family strife is thrown. Maybe someday, we can start avoiding that altogether.
~*~May, 2014~*~
“This is so great,” Nathan enthuses, taking his hands off the steering wheel long enough to rub his hands together, “I can’t believe I missed all this for Mere. It’s really something.”
I beam at him; I can’t help it, I’m just so happy these days. There was probably a time in my younger life when I would’ve scoffed at this notion of myself, but here it is. I’m happy, and I like it.
“I’m glad you were here for this,” I tell him with all the sincerity in my heart. Last time out, it was Brooke, Karen, or Deb accompanying me to all of my doctor appointments. This time, I have Nathan here to do that, and it’s just - not to take anything away from them - amazing.
He looks over at me, a huge, beaming smile on his face. “I am, too. It was so hard last time for me, not being involved at all with your pregnancy. It is really great that I have another chance to experience it.”
I lean my head back against the headrest, smiling back at him. “It was hard the first time,” I admit. “I don’t think I even realized how hard until now, getting to do this with you. It just really drove that home, you know?”
“We’re here,” he notes, leaning over to kiss me, “Have fun with the wedding planning.”
“You could at least say that with a straight face,” I pout. He’s getting such a kick over Brooke enlisting me to help with everything. There’s no doubt that all of this is going to be outrageously huge and gaudy and crazy, and I’m somehow smack-dab in the middle of it.
“Oh, like you won’t have a little bit of fun,” he grins, winking at me, “I’m going to pick Mere up from Karen and Keith’s and take her out for an early dinner. Maybe I’ll let her pick out a new toy.”
“Don’t you dare!” I gasp, poking him in the ribs, “You’re always saying how spoiled she is; let’s not add to that, okay?”
He leans back over to kiss me again. “Okay, no new toys. But I might get some ice cream. Want any?”
“Oh, honey, you don’t have to pretend like I’m not getting ice cream chubby,” I smirk, patting my belly, “It’s pretty obvious what’s going on here.”
“Yeah, you’re just porking out,” he sighs sarcastically, shaking his head, “Like the doctor didn’t just practically beg you to put on some weight. Fat jokes aren’t going to work, babe. You’re definitely getting ice cream. The gallon size, too; not any of that pint crap.”
“How you spoil me,” I intone dramatically, earning another kiss from him. “Okay, I should go before she sends out the cavalry to retrieve me from your wicked grasp.”
“That could be fun in its own way, though,” he muses, and push him playfully on the shoulder, “Okay, I’m going to wear our daughter out today so that you and I can have the house to ourselves this evening.”
“Are you going to clean, too, Super Dad?” I ask hopefully, batting my eyelashes at him in an overdramatic fashion.
He groans good-naturedly. “If I must.”
Opening the door, I smile at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, you must,” I tease, “Scrub those floors well.”
“You’re evil,” he laughs, shaking his head, “Is putting me to work in the house your way of telling me its time to get a job?”
I wink at him as I leave the car. “I don’t know, Nathan. You in an apron - and maybe nothing else - is kind of sexy.” He grins at that. Smirking at him, I deliver the blow. “Very Tony Danza circa 1988.”
His mouth opens and closes like a fish’s for a moment before he snaps it shut. “I cannot believe you just…Tony Danza? Really?”
Laughing, I shut the door, blowing him a kiss as he rolls the window down. “Love you, Nathan.”
“I’m getting a job!” he calls out as I make my way up the walk of the house that had been my home a few years ago, “A real one, that never, ever involves aprons! Or vacuums! Or cooking!”
I wave over my shoulder at him, trying not to laugh anymore at his expense. Honestly, though, if this propels him into getting a job, I won’t complain. While there are financial concerns, particularly when factoring in the type of lifestyle that Nathan has a propensity for, there are the more pressing issues. I really think that the boredom that is beginning to set in for him is a hindrance to his recovery. He needs something to be motivated for, and he needs to feel like he’s accomplishing something.
It comes down to his happiness, which is directly related to his sobriety, which may or may not be related to what he does career-wise. Of course, I think that plays into all of our lives, but this is his choice to make, and I want him to do what is right for him.
It comes down to his happiness, which is directly related to his sobriety, which may or may not be related to what he does career-wise. Of course, I think that plays into all of our lives, but this is his choice to make, and I want him to do what is right for him.
Pushing thoughts of Nathan out of my mind, I let myself into Brooke and Tim’s house. To my horror, they’re on the stairs, completely, totally buck naked. Squeezing my eyes shut and covering my ears with my hands, I spin around, slamming the door shut.
“Oh, my God, oh, my God,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head as if to clear it, “Shit, this is what you get for not knocking. Oh, my God.”
“Haley!” Brooke calls through the door, sounding mildly panicked. Yeah, like she knows. Whatever. “Get back in here, we’re almost decent!”
“Almost does not count!” I assert hotly, “God, you knew I was coming over! You know I never knock! What were you thinking, Brooke?”
“I’m sorry!” she yells back, “I wasn’t thinking of anything except getting my hands on Tim’s hot - “
“Stop!” I squeak out, again covering my ears, “I don’t need to know about - or, dear God, see - all aspects of your life! Especially the naked aspects, Brooke!”
I can hear her laughing as Tim speaks to her in a tone too low for me to hear through the door. I tap my foot impatiently, embarrassed at having seen that much of my friends, especially in that position. Maybe I should be a little more laissez-faire about the whole thing, but I can’t quite summon that up right now.
Sighing, I sit down on the step, resting my arms across my rapidly expanding belly. It’s getting bigger every day, I swear, but Nathan is right, I’m too thin still. I’ve been doing better lately, but even without the doctor stating it, too, it’s obvious that I’m not gaining pregnancy weight like I should. Right now I look more like one of those chicken-legged women you see on soaps whose close are stuffed with giant pillows when their character gets pregnant.
It’s not the cutest look in the world.
As I’m waiting, a car pulls up and parks on the street. It’s Jason. I vaguely recall Brooke saying that Tim was going golfing with Jason while we planned things, but it wasn’t something I paid much attention to. He slowly walks up the path, and I wonder if he’s as unenthusiastic about talking as I am.
“Uh, hey,” he greets me awkwardly, and I smile tightly at him in return. “I’m just here to pick Tim up. I’ll just go inside.”
“Probably not a good idea,” I tell him quietly. We talked at Luke’s birthday, and though we’ve been at the same functions since then, we haven’t talked at all. “When I arrived, they were, um, not ready or fit for company. And I’m sure you want to see Tim’s naked ass even less than I do, so I’d suggest waiting.”
He raises his eyebrows at that, but nods, sitting down on the step beside me. “So, how are you?”
“You don’t have to make small talk with me, Jason,” I tell him politely, not wanting him to feel obligated to make conversation.
“Ever the martyr, huh?” At my look, he continues. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. But you have to admit, you have something of a history of acting like you think the world hates you. And the world doesn’t really hate you; in fact, it seems to like you a lot.”
“It wasn’t about playing the martyr,” I inform him stiffly, “It wasn’t about playing anything. I’m sorry you felt that way.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on, you live a charmed life. Yeah, I guess you’ve had some bad times, I won’t dispute that, but no matter what mistakes you make, you still end up with the world handed to you on a silver platter.”
I raise my eyebrows at that, letting irritation wash over me. “And how would you know?” I snip out tartly, “You know nothing of what my life is like, or how hard I had to work for it? And why do you even care, Jason?”
He holds his hands up in the air in a peace gesture. “I’m not saying life isn’t hard for you, because I know it has been. But let’s face it, you want Nathan back? You get him back.”
Gaping at him, I stand up. “That took a year! That took a long and very awkward year where I was constantly worried that I had messed everything up for all of us forever. And I’m sorry, really sorry for everything that happened, but it’s not like things were all peachy and happy for me either.”
He rolls his eyes, scoffing at my statement. “You always throw in the wounded animal act. It gets tiresome, Haley. Really tiresome.”
“Well, who the hell asked you?” I snap, pushing laboriously to my feet, “Nobody asked you! Nobody cares about your opinion anymore, least of all me.”
“Did you ever?” he counters, jumping to his feet, “Did you ever care about anything or anyone other than your precious Nathan?”
Shaking my head, I turn my back on him. I don’t want to have this conversation. Hell, I don’t have to have it, either. It’s been years since I made those mistakes, and I paid my penance for them. It obviously wasn’t the penance he wanted, but in the end, that isn’t his choice.
“You going to run away again?” he asks, and I know he’s right behind me. I want to give in and move away from him, but letting him intimidate isn’t in the cards. “It’s what you do best, right?”
“Leave me alone,” I mutter, folding my arms protectively over my belly, as if that could shield the baby from the words and emotions.
“It’s all about you,” he continues taunting me, “You never cared about how you hurt anyone, did you? Even now, you can’t talk about it. You can’t give a decent explanation.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Nathan says from behind me, and I freeze. I turn to face him, relieved that he doesn’t look angry. He steps over to my side, glaring at Jason. “You forgot your purse, Haley J.”
Nodding, I smile when he takes my hand. “Thank you for bringing it back. There were some notes in there that Brooke would’ve killed me for not having.” He looks down at me, the question plainly written on his face. “I’m okay, I promise.”
He hands me the purse, leaning down to kiss me softly. “Okay.” He looks over at Jason. “Leave my wife alone. I’ll tolerate your proximity for our family and friends’ sakes, but that’s out the window if you even look in her direction again.”
“Nathan,” I sigh, not wanting any kind of confrontation.
“Your wife?” Jason snarks, “I got closer to marrying her than you ever did. Of course, you went about it in a smarter way - why bother buying it when she gives it away for free?”
Nathan’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t swing, which is huge for him. “You know nothing,” he taunts, his face relaxing to a smirk, “I’m not surprised, though. It isn’t really any of your business that Haley and I were married in high school. Always would’ve been, if our parents hadn’t forced us to annul it.”
Jason’s jaw drops a little at that, and he seems to deflate. Brooke and Tim come stumbling out at that moment, Brooke hopping on one foot as she tries to put her second shoe on. Nathan raises his eyebrows at them, but doesn’t say anything.
“God, Haley, you have got to start knocking!” Tim chastises me, and I nod emphatically in agreement. Lord knows I never want to see that again.
“Yeah, that won’t be a problem, believe me,” I mutter, leaning into Nathan’s side a little, “Okay, we should get started, Tigger. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He nods, smiling down at me. “Yeah, we’ll be waiting for you.”
Brooke looks at me appraisingly as he walks off, taking my arm and leading me towards the house. “What was that all about?”
“Jason had a few things to say to me,” I shrug dismissively, leaning my head on her shoulder, “And I’d forgot my purse, so Nathan came back in the middle of it.”
“Jason had ‘words’ for you?” she repeats, baffled, “What the hell? It’s been like, a whole lifetime, or something, and he really needs to get over himself already. I mean, honestly, I’d thought he was over it.”
“I don’t know,” I shrug, “I’ve talked to him once, since I’ve been back, and that was for about a minute and a half. It was just weird.”
She shakes her head. “If Tim kicks his ass, I will give him the blowjob of all time as a reward.”
“Overshare,” I squeak, crinkling my nose at her, “Did not need to have any kind of visual regarding that.”
“Oh, you can be such a prude sometimes,” she admonishes me, shaking her head as she laughs at my alleged prudishness, “You gotta live a little. Even if it is vicariously.”
I shake my head, bumping hips with her. “Not if it means hearing all about you and Tim’s great sex-ventures, thanks.”
“Ugh, so prim,” she laughs, pulling me into the house, “God, it’s cold out here. If spring doesn’t get sprung soon, I’m going to have to have a little chat with someone. And by little, I mean big, giant yelling fit.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less,” I smirk, following her into the kitchen, “Um, this place has been sanitized recently, right?”
“Ha, ha,” she mutters sarcastically, pulling out this huge binder. Inwardly groaning, I know exactly what it is - and I know exactly where she got the idea. “Ta da! It’s my dream wedding portfolio!”
“Okay,” I sigh, slightly amused, slightly terrified, “Spell it out for me: what are we talking about here?”
”The biggest, splashiest, wildest wedding this side of TV!”
“Oookay,” I nod, sitting down at the table, “And when do you plan to throw this spectacular extravaganza?”
“As soon as possible,” she states without even the slightest trace of humor or irony. She’s serious. I know Brooke, and I know when she says big, splashy, and wild, she means wild, splashy, and big. There ain’t no two ways about it. It is what it is, and what it is is crazy.
“Um, hold up there, Barbie,” I blink, trying to think of a diplomatic way to put this in which Brooke will understand, “I know you want your dream wedding, and I know you want it soon, but maybe you should think about this logistically.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, bewildered, “I want both. I want the thirteen-tiered almond genoise with frangipane, chantilly cream, and raspberries, finished with a smooth buttercream with classic beadwork! I want it to be dripping with real flowers and taste like the finest desserts in Europe.”
Okay, she’s finally gone around the bend. “Brooke, I get that, I really do, but think practical. Just a little.”
She shakes her head, still mystified. “How can I do that? This is my wedding! My big, fancy, huge wedding, and so what if I want it to be perfect? So what if it want it to be extravagant and flashy and showy? When else will I ever have another chance to do this?” she pauses, blinking owlishly. “Unless that’s it, and you think I’ll have plenty of opportunities, because I’ll become some sort of Erica Kane-esque serial bride that marries and divorces and sleeps with every man that comes her way!”
It takes me a second to catch up to her tirade. Not many people can take a tangent and run with it the way Brooke Davis can. Of course, I think she picked up some of that rambly babble from me.
“Calm down,” I instruct her, “That’s not what I meant, and you damn well know it. Jeez, get a grip already.”
“I’m sorry,” she sighs, collapsing into the chair next to mine, “This is all so overwhelming, and I want to be married this summer. I just want a beautiful summer wedding, outside, with all the trees and flowers in bloom with gorgeous dresses and a huge, decadent cake, and lots and lots of white chiffon.”
I roll my eyes, pretending to be exasperated. “Great, we can all look like big puffs of meringue, huh?”
“Well, sexy meringue, but yeah, I guess so,” she smirks, shrugging, “Come on, help me. Please. I need your expertise!”
“What expertise? I’ve never planned a wedding, remember?”
“I know, but you’re always so good at these types of things, and you’re an interior designer, so you only have that arty aesthetic for table arrangements and such, but you’ve got an in with the wholesalers. You can get me discounts!”
I nod, knowing that there’s no way I couldn’t, and really, no way I wouldn’t help her in any way possible. “I’ll do whatever I can. Just keep in mind that I’m going to be hugely pregnant soon, and what I can do might be fairly limited.”
She waves that off with a flourish of her hand. “Oh, please, that’s a very antiquated attitude to take on this, Haley James. Pregnant ladies are people, too, and they can do anything anyone else can.”
Snorting, I kick her under the table. “You remember that when it’s 98 degrees outside, my ankles are swollen to three times their normal size, and I’m yelling at you for making me wear something with a hoopskirt and that no, I can’t get an additional 600 white roses or tea candles before the ceremony starts in five minutes.”
“Hey!” she exclaims, laughing with me, “There will be no hoopskirts! Last minute requests that are seemingly not able to be fulfilled, sure, but no hoopskirts! Oh, the horror!”
“And I’m not wearing couture,” I warn her preemptively, “Or gaudy jewelry. Seriously, Brooke, if you have it this summer, you do realize I’ll still be pregnant, right?”
“So?” she sniffs dismissively, “We can work around that. With, we can work with it. Um, that’s what I meant.”
I giggle at that, shaking my head. “Oh, whatever. Seriously, though, when are you thinking?”
“August 16th,” she sighs dreamily, “It’s always so pretty that time of year, and we can have it out at one of the historical houses or something. Just something pretty and - “
“And yeah, yeah, extravagant and crazy and obscene and emotional and sugar and spice and everything nice,” I intone dryly, shaking my head. Do I think she’s crazy? Yeah, one hundred percent certifiable. Do I want this to be the best day of their lives? Yeah, to the point that I’m pretty sure I’m always certifiable.
She beams brightly at me. “Exactly! Oh, I knew you’d get it!”
Shaking my head, I nod. “Well, I wouldn’t say I completely get it, but I know about wanting to have the perfect day.”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “So, um, you’re cool with this, right? I mean, since you and Nathan aren’t married, and don’t really seem too close to being there, it’s okay, right?”
“We’ve always been close to being there,” I contradict her, “And when the time is right, for us, and our kids, then we’ll just do it. So yeah, I’m completely cool with it. I’m happy for you guys, so happy.”
She smiles hugely, blinking back tears as she scoots her chair closer so she can hug me. “God, I know this is selfish and a little horrible, but I’m so happy that you’re here now for this. I would probably go crazy without you here, trying to be calm and plan a wedding.”
“I’m glad to be here for this, too,” I agree, hugging her back, “This will be fun. But we really need to get started. And really, you have to know that I’m not going to be able to give you as much time as I would’ve five years ago, right? There’s Mere and Nathan and the baby and me, and we’re all time hogs.”
“I can be a time hog, too,” she exclaims, laughing, “But really, I know. And I only want the time that you have to spare, I promise.” She pauses, tilting her head to the side as she thinks about it. “I’ll probably need more than that, but I won’t ask for it or expect it. Promise.”
“Thanks,” I grin, a little relieved. I don’t know that I’m convinced it will hold, but at least I know the second I play the ‘pregnant’ or ‘family’ cards, she’ll see reason and let me make my escape.
“So Mere will have to be my flower girl, of course. Oh, she’ll love that, right? She won’t get weird about it, will she? I don’t want to put her up there if she’s weird about it. Or if it makes her nervous or something.”
Rolling my eyes, I nod. “She’ll be fine. You know that she loves those kinds of things, being the center of attention.”
Brooke snorts, smirking at me. “Yeah, like that’s worked out so well for her so far. God, don’t delude yourself.”
“What does that mean?” I ask stiffly, having a fairly good idea of what I’m going to hear from her.
“Hello, her birthday? Nathan quite effectively ruined that, wouldn’t you say? Oh, and Christmas, when he shut you guys up in your house and wouldn’t let you venture out to spend the holiday with the people that actually love and care and want the best for you!” she exclaims hotly, not even bothering to hold back in this, “I’m so sick of him winning! You let him get away with bloody murder, Haley! And you defend him, and keep going back for more.”
Standing up, I lean forward, putting my hands on the table, palms down. “You’re so far off base on most of that that you can’t even see the base where you are. Don’t talk about things that you don’t know or understand, can’t know or understand.”
“Like it takes being the one he hurts over and over to get it? Get real! I’ve seen firsthand, with my own eyes, what he’s done to you and Mere! He cheated on you, and you’re all la di da about it! You act like it didn’t happen, like it doesn’t matter if it did. And Mere, well, he’s been putting her in danger for years now, but I guess that’s okay now, too.”
Pushing back from the table, I spin around, heading for the door. I hear the scraping of her chair on the tiled floor as she shoves back, getting up to follow me. “You don’t know anything, Brooke. Nothing about my daughter, or Nathan, and, apparently, me. So just stop. Stop while you’re not completely behind.”
“Haley, stop!” she yells, and I comply, stopping in my tracks. I don’t know why - I don’t think I should, but I do anyway. “God, would you please just listen to me for a second? I’m sorry, I know I’m saying things you don’t want to hear, but maybe - maybe you should.”
Shaking my head, I turn back to face her. “Maybe you don’t know what you’re talking about here.”
“Maybe not,” she concedes, “But I know that you’re my best friend, and that you and Mere are two of the most important people in the world to me. Really. Maybe you don’t believe that right this second, but it’s true, and you know it.”
“Does that matter?” I wonder aloud, almost wryly, “Does it matter when you’re trashing my decisions, the love of my life, everything that I’ve chosen for myself and my child?”
“I’m doing it because I love you, because I want you both to be okay. And you know what? I know what you’ll say about me and Nathan - I don’t like him, I don’t give a good God damn about it, and no, I never have. You’re right, I don’t. I’ve tried to put up with him, and I can’t, not really. He’s just - just, “she sputters, gesturing wildly with her hands in overblown movement, “He’s a jerk!”
Taking a deep breath, I look her in the eye. “He’s not a jerk. He’s made mistakes, a lot of them. But he knows that better than anyone, and I don’t appreciate you throwing them in my face. I really don’t. We’re dealing with all of this, and you - you have no right to slam him, none! Do you know how hard it is for him? Do you have any clue what kind of humiliation and sorrow and regret he’s going through? God, I can’t believe this. I really can’t.”
“Of course you can’t!” she shoots back, “You’ve always - always! - been blind to his faults! But that’s never stopped you from making him your number one, has it?”
“He’s my heart, Brooke. He’s my family, my home. He’s who Tim is for you. And I’m sorry that that isn’t enough for you, but it is for me. It’s everything, in fact.”
I walk out the door, and this time she doesn’t stop me and I don’t turn around. Neither of us says anything, and all I hear are my footsteps echoing over the parquet floor that I’ve traveled many, many times.
When the door clicks shut behind me, it somehow feels like it has shut forever.