Broken Pieces – Part 4

 

Author: Sarah E. Grauvogl

 

Email: grauvose@muohio.edu 

 

Rating: PG

 

Note: This is (finally) a continuation of the fic, “Daddy Nick and Mommy
Lulu” started by Rosiiii and I toward the end of TG Season 2 in May of
2003. Taking into consideration what happened in the show’s season
finale “All the Rage”, some events are still included (the parking lot
beating, James’ demise, Lulu’s job offer in Berkeley) but the original
story thread from “Daddy Nick…” stays the same in regards to the very
much unplanned pregnancy and the nature of the Nick/Lulu relationship,
with Lulu saying “I love you” first and Nick’s uncertainty over anything
being able to last.

 

The characters and TG are not mine, but the story as it unfolds from
this point on are. The parking lot dialogue is almost entirely taken
from “All the Rage.”

 

What I intend to do is spin the story in a different direction, taking
TG into an ‘alternate universe’ from what we saw in the arc of episodes
preceding “All the Rage” and Season Three.

 

**

Early the next morning…

 

**

K. McPherson Residence, 1:05 AM

 

The truth would hurt. That she knew. It would not be easy to hear, much
less accept.  Maybe that’s why she put off telling him for as long as
she had. Words escaped her each time she picked up the phone.

 

It was a fear, really, the fear of him hanging up. The fear of him
turning her away. Again.

 

This child would be his greatest disappointment, or so she thought.
Mothered by a woman he didn’t love, born of a relationship that never
should have started.  Loneliness and curiosity led her to him. She
should have known.

 

There was only herself to blame for carrying on. Time and silence
between them had proven that the responsibility would be hers, and hers
alone.

 

<What have I done?> Kim asked herself quietly as she moved her hand over
her full belly, as if she were trying to comfort her child for the
thoughts she was having. <I must be out of my frickin’ mind...>

 

Lying in bed alone, in the latest hours of the night, it was her time to
think. Away from Paul and his criticism, away from Matty and his
questions. This was her chance to figure things out, to plan ahead.

 

<It would be just my luck, if you looked like your Daddy… wouldn’t that
be great…> she mused, envisioning their child in the back of her mind.
Beautiful it would be, but nevertheless, troubled.

 

Even now, she knew it. Despite her best efforts, there would be no
feasible to way to protect her child. The world wasn’t perfect, nor was
this child’s father.

 

<He’ll hate me, if he doesn’t already…> she decided long ago, <but not
as much as I hate him… for leaving me as he did, for leading me on…>

 

Did she love him? Kim wasn’t certain, not anymore. Months ago she was
sure that she did, or at least that she was starting to. When she saw
him, when he’d come to her. When he wanted her. That was then.

 

This was now.

 

Angry as she was at him, the child that she was carrying was still his.
A product of their union, whatever it was – no matter how little it
meant to him.

 

<He was good for something> she considered, <and he can’t take that away
from me… he never will…>

 

Detailed police reports of custody cases gone horribly wrong were slid
across her desk all the time.  At times, her only reassurance was that
in her situation, in these very particular circumstances, the law would
be on her side.

 

No matter how much money he had, or who he knew – he had a past that no
rational judge could over look.

 

The child would be hers, she had no doubts in her mind.   Perhaps one
day, he would be involved.

 

Perhaps.

 

There was a time when she worried he might make her look bad. He did.
Rubbing her belly again, Kim vowed she would not let that happen to her
child.  It would be her way, or no way.

 

**

Tom’s Diner, 1:32 AM

 

The tension at the table was palpable. Family dinners were never
approached lightly, or with pleasure – much less, anticipation. Perhaps
it was the circumstances that brought them together that dampened the
mood, but maybe it was just them.

 

Wedged uncomfortably between his father and the wall, Nick’s body was
rigid. Partly due to nerves, the other part was due to fear over what
was still to come. His thoughts got the better of him. The menu the
waitress had set before him remained unopened, his coffee still full and
by now, surely luke warm. The scant details of the LSP created a grim
picture in his mind. He knew that’s where he should be.

 

There, with her. With them. <What have I done?> he asked himself again,
<how the hell did I get myself into this mess?>

 

A mess. That’s exactly what it was. He should’ve known it was too good
to be true, from the moment his father offered him the tickets. A night
out, with his father and the woman he… <No, don’t…> Nick chastised
himself, <it just wasn’t meant to be…>

 

“You’re not having anything?” Aunt Liz asked, breaking the silence that
had fallen over their table.

 

Burton looked at her, astonished by her efforts to strike up a
conversation. <Maybe he’ll speak to her…> he foolishly considered, <God
knows he won’t say a day

 

Barely lifting his tousled blonde head, Nick quietly answered, “not
really hungry…”

 

“You sure?” she challenged, as if she might really be concerned. Though
she would never say it, he didn’t look good. He hadn’t, not the past few
times she’d seen him anyway. Liz knew there was a new woman in his life,
and that things weren’t going well.

 

The inner circle had rumors of there being a pregnancy, and Nick
“offering” to marry her too. Upon hearing that, Liz decided that if her
sister wasn’t dead yet, this news certainly would’ve killed her.

 

Anne had always lived in denial, foolishly painting a much prettier
picture of her life than what was there. She thought everything in her
son’s life would turn out just right. Too bad he didn’t have a perfect
example to follow.

 

Things at Fallin and Fallin weren’t going all too well either; Burton
had eluded to that much. Their personal problems were often dragged into
the conference room, both of them too proud to check their baggage at
the door.

 

<And now this,> Liz thought to herself with a heavy sigh, <just what
they don’t need…>

 

“Yeah, coffee is fine…” Nick finally answered. He glanced down at the
dark, murky liquid that filled his cup. He had no intention of drinking
it when the waitress offered, but instead got it to warm his hands.

 

There was an undeniable chill that overtook him when in his father’s
presence. More often than not, it was one he couldn’t shake. Tonight was
no different.

 

The warmth the cup offered was fleeting, much like the affection he
received from his aunt.

 

Knowing he was trapped, at least for now. Nick was desperate to tune
them out. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reluctantly
allowing his mind to wander.

 

“I just… just don’t know what the hell happened out there…”  Burton
began slowly, “I just… I just don’t know what to say for myself…”

 

Cautiously, Liz looked over her shoulder, “Burton…”

 

“There’s no… no excuse… I was pissed off and…” he continued, stopping
only to take a small bite from his pie.  The scene replayed over in his
mind, encouraging him to continue, “hell, had Shannon and Lulu been there…”

 

“Burton, given the circumstances… perhaps this is not the place…” Liz
nervously bit her lip, having eyed a police officer near the door.
“Maybe we just should put it to rest, for now anyway…”

 

Stubborn as ever, Burton shook his head defiantly. “That man, that man…
he just… he just…”

 

“Burton!” Liz stammered, “I said that was enough!”

 

For once, his aunt was being rational. It was a gesture he could not
ignore, one that he might even appreciate. No longer able to block them
out, Nick turned toward his father, “Dad…”

 

“What?” Burton snapped. His guilt was eating away at him. He had to find
a way to justify what he had done. To right his wrong.

 

This was the only audience that might listen. These were the only people
who might give a damn. There had to be some explanation for what he did,
for what provoked him and encouraged Nick. He had to find it, to talk
himself through.

 

That’s what lawyers did. They talked themselves through and got
themselves out of a whole.

 

Clenching his jaw, Nick made himself count to ten. He looked his father
square in the eye, “not now…”

 

“God, what was I thinking? I should’ve just… just…”  Burton mumbled
beneath his breath. The pie before him offered no consolation. It was
sustenance.

 

What he needed was a good stiff drink, but Liz wouldn’t go for that.
Sometimes he hated that she knew him so well. A meal would help, or so
she had said. Burton knew that there was nothing he could eat that would
erase the picture in his mind.

 

The look in his eyes, that’s what scared him. That’s what he kept seeing
again and again. Ralph Trillo’s eyes. That horrified look that he gave
that fatal blow to his ribs.

 

Setting her fork down, Liz reached across the table and took Burton’s
shaky hand into her own, “people make mistakes all the time, Burton…”

 

“This was a helluva lot worse than a mistake…” Burton chuffed, not
bothering to look at her with his cool, steely eyes, “a helluva lot worse…”

 

As usual, Burton was too proud to appreciate her concern. He pulled his
hand away from hers and again picked up his fork, contemplating his next
bite.

 

If he couldn’t have a drink, this would have to do. Burton turned to
look at his son a moment, silent and stoic as ever. Locked away in his
own damn little world.

 

<Just like his mother> he thought to himself, <just like Anne…> 

 

“Nick?” Liz took a sip from her coffee, “Nicholas?”

 

Her determination to have a conversation at a moment like this made it
clear that she did not know him well at all. Nick hated that now, after
all these years, that she was trying to step in.

 

<Why humor her?> Nick asked himself, <what good would that do me now?>

 

“You feeling okay, Nick?”  Liz offered a small smile.

 

Raised too well to ignore her, Nick shook his head, “just tired, very
tired…”

 

“How is your friend? Louisa is it?” Liz asked innocently. She had no
idea how far this woman was along, or if she had even planned to keep
the baby.

 

Rubbing his brow, Nick glanced up at her. The look in his eyes told her
that he had no words to answer the question. What she saw was confusion.

 

His response or lack there of got her thinking. In the back of her mind
she wondered if maybe a child and a wife might straighten her nephew
out, if having something – someone – to live for might put him on the
right track. But, if his behavior tonight was any indication, she
doubted there would be much, if any, hope for the future.

 

<Accidents happen>, that had been Anne’s line to her when she first got
pregnant. There was really no doubt that the baby was Burton’s, but
marriage couldn’t have been further from their minds when it happened.
Maybe the imminent arrival of the baby did force his hand, but they
seemed happy enough, at the time. Of course, <accidents happened> again
when she lost the baby and she found comfort in the arms of another man,
not even two months into her new marriage. And again, with the accident
that changed all their lives and threw Anne into a fit of depression so
deep she never really escaped.

 

<Accidents happen…> Anne’s words echoed through her sister’s ears. Maybe
Nick heard them too.

 

Was the conception of her nephew’s child an accident? After finding out
about the news from a family friend, since there was no formal
announcement made as there would have been if they were already married
and trying, she had reasoned that it probably was. An accident.

 

<Nick Fallin, Jr. an accident in the making…> Liz cringed at the
thought.  No self-respecting woman would go out and try to get herself
pregnant by a man like Nick, no matter how big the cash pot promised to
be if things, ever so coincidentally, did not work out in the end. In
spite of his best intentions and whatever goodness he displayed, Liz
knew that Nick was trouble.

 

 Maybe he always was. Maybe it was in their blood. 

 

Never the less, she had no doubt that he would try to do right by his
child, but an honest, full commitment to its mother seemed like
something he was unlikely to make. Marriage or not. Like his own mother,
he lacked the ability to find happiness in a situation, much less in any
one person.

 

It was a curse.

 

“Uh… good, I guess… I haven’t really spoken with her today…” Nick
finally answered, not knowing what else he could say.

 

Under the scrutiny of their gazes, he fidgeted nervously with the stir
stick from his coffee, unable to keep himself still. His body was still
tense from the earlier chase, his heart hadn’t yet slowed.  The mere
mention of her name sped it up even more.

 

<God, she’s going to hate me. If she didn’t already, she will now…> he
thought to himself, <here it is, reason enough for her to leave…what
kind of woman would want to bring a child into this…>

 

After he wiped his mouth with a napkin, Burton turned to his son,
seemingly surprised by his response. “You didn’t call her yet?”

 

“They took my phone…” Nick reminded him, agitated by his father’s
forgetfulness. It was a nuisance that he attributed more to a lack of
caring than his old age. “I’ve been with you, when would I call her?”

 

“You didn’t get it back?”  Burton just shook his head, baffled. That
wasn’t like Nick at all.

 

<Did he not want to be bothered?> he asked himself. Sometimes, he just
could not comprehend, much less justify, how his son worked — the
silences that he imposed, the distances he created.

 

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal.

 

These traits, these characteristics that Nick had displayed, maybe even
since his youth, they weren’t something he had inherited from him,
Burton decided. They had to have come from Anne.

 

To his father’s question he had no answer. He just looked at him, square
in the eye. Those cold, steely pools that offered no comfort or
consolation. If he could sum up what he saw in those eyes in just one
word, it would be disappointment.

 

It hurt, a lot. It was in that moment that he truly knew, perhaps for
the first time, that there would be some things about him that his
father would just never understand. Maybe no one ever would.

 

**

Archer Residence, 1:54 AM

 

Although it was her own home, she didn’t feel right just walking in.
Friend or not, Barbara was a guest. She hadn’t emerged from the bedroom
since they got in. The door was closed, but not fully shut.

 

It was getting late, she was worried. She considered that Barbara might
have fallen asleep, exhausted from the events of the day and her tears.
It wouldn’t be like her, though, to not say anything. Even now.

 

<Maybe if I just…> Lulu glanced at the clock that hung in the hallway,
surprised to see how late it was.

 

Mindfully running her hand over her stomach, she took a deep breath and
knocked. For one reason or another, she took a step back from the door.
“Barbara?” Lulu quietly called, “can I come in?”.

 

<Oh shit…> Barbara wiped her eyes, “just a minute…”

 

“Are you…” Lulu waited, almost hesitant, “are you okay?”

 

It was only then that Barbara noticed all the tissues and wrappers that
were strewn across the queen-sized bed. She was sure she had practically
emptied the box of candies she found. <What a mess> she said quietly to
herself, <what a blubbering mess…>

 

Her eyes quickly spotted a small trash can next to the dresser and she
forced herself go and get it. She frantically tossed the tissues in, her
aim impaired by fatigue. The tears started to fall. “Dammit!” Barbara
had no idea how loud that came out.

 

The small opening gave Lulu no clue as to what was going on inside.
“Barbara?”

 

There was no immediate response. Enough was enough. She opened the door,
not sure what she’d find.

 

“A mess! I’ve made such a mess!” Barbara threw her arms up in disgust, “
I just… I just… I don’t know…I’m sad, I’m angry…I’m…” She bent down and
started to pick up the wrappers, “look what I’ve done…”

 

“Barbara… really…” Lulu leaned down brushed her hand against Barbara’s
tense shoulder, “don’t worry about it…” 

 

Barbara shook her head defiantly, “no, really…I probably… I probably
shouldn’t even be here, I should’ve just… just gone home…”

 

“You want to call Evan, let him know you’re here?” Lulu handed her the
phone that she had brought with her upstairs, just in case.  

 

“No, no… its fine…” Barbara’s heart sank at the mention of his name. It
still hurt that much. She looked at the phone, well with in her reach.
Tempting as it was, she knew he wouldn’t answer.

 

<God help me> she pleaded silently to herself, <I need him so…>

 

18 days, 12 hours and 42 minutes – that’s how long it had been. Since
she had seen his face, since she felt his touch. Since he walked out. It
wasn’t like Barbara to keep track, but this time she did.

 

Loneliness was getting the better of her. <Maybe this is the jolt I
needed> she thought,<to bring me back to life…>

 

“I’m sure he must be worried…” Lulu suggested, sure that he had seen the
news.

 

The news. It was on every channel. Breaking news. It was that important,
it would even matter to…<don’t go there, Lulu…>> She thought of him
again. She couldn’t help herself.

 

Part of her was just thankful he was alive, that it wasn’t him. The
other part was mad as hell that he hadn’t called just to confirm that it
wasn’t her, to make sure she was okay. It wasn’t like him, not at all.

 

<Does he even care anymore?> Lulu let herself wonder. 

 

Even if he was mad at her, he would’ve come. If not for everyone else,
for himself. She knew that LSP mattered to him, perhaps a lot more than
he wanted it to. More than he would ever say.

 

Wiping her eyes yet again as she sat down on the edge of the bed,
Barbara just shook her head, “I doubt that…”

 

<Where the hell have I been?> Lulu wondered, <what else have I missed?>
Berkeley. The baby. Nick. Marriage. LSP. Since the accident, the life
she led no longer seemed like her own.

 

“Barbara?” Lulu waited again, not sure this was a subject she wanted to
touch.

 

“It’s not a trip he’s been on, Lulu,” Barbara painfully admitted, 
“Evan… he moved out…”

 

<And we… we might have been able to prevent this, if Nick and I… if we…>
A million thoughts ran through her mind, a whole lot of ‘ifs’. Things
could be very different, for all of them, if fate hadn’t played out as
it did. That was then. This was now. She knew that there was nothing
that could be said. Nothing she could do to ease that type of pain.

 

“Oh…”  Lulu knew by the look in her eyes that she was truly devastated
by his absence. It was a pain she didn’t know, at least not yet. When
Brian left, it was more of a relief, a way to end the pain before it
really began.

 

It was different for Barbara and Even, or so she thought. At least they
seemed happy going into it. At least they seemed to be in love. Seemed.
Now it seemed as if she was wrong.  Lulu feared repeating her mistakes,
rushing in. 

 

It was a fear in her that Nick didn’t understand, and probably never would.

 

“He’s got some friends in Rochester, he has been staying up there…”
Barbara’s fingers nervously moved through the ends of her coppery hair,
“for… for a while now…”

 

Knowing only the scant details of her evening plans from the drafted
police report, Lulu wasn’t sure she followed. “But tonight he was coming
home?”

 

Barbara sadly nodded, “not by choice…I wanted to try to talk again, try
to make us work…”

 

“What happened?” Lulu wasn’t so sure she wanted to know, or that Barbara
was ready to be asked. She tried not to cringe at the word /make
/whenever it was applied to relationships/./ Caroline, font of
experience that she was, that regularly said ‘its when you try your
hardest to make things work that they are most prone to fall apart.’

 

Maybe ‘making’ was overrated. Things either work or they don’t. That’s
just how life was, Lulu knew that now. .

 

“He called, last minute, said his plans had changed…” Barbara added
incredulously, “last weekend they did too…” She glanced toward Lulu, no
longer embarrassed or concerned about the tears racing down her cheeks,
“seems as if his plans no longer include me…”

 

<Were we responsible for this? Should we have…> she stopped herself
there, it was too late for having doubts. What’s done was done. To
apologize now would be futile, all Lulu could do was listen.

 

She hoped the expression of her eyes could make up for her lack of
words. It wasn’t a look of pity, or sympathy, but one of understanding.
It was hitting close to home, perhaps a little too close for comfort.
No, it wasn’t what she went through with Brian – but it was what she
feared was ahead.

 

“I just thought for me, for us, this time would be different, everything
seemed so right…” she sobbed, “I… just thought that maybe, maybe I could
be happy.”

 

“I know what that’s like…” Lulu bit down on her lower lip, hard. It was
the only way to break the thought. To stop her own tears.

 

That’s what she thought about them. That this time it would be
different. That everything seemed right. At least until recently. At
least until now.  <God do I know> Lulu said quietly to herself, <I know
it all too well.>

 

Now was not the time to compare stories, Lulu knew better. Barbara
needed her. This was about her. “So…what are you going to do?” Lulu
quietly asked.

 

“You know,” Barbara said with a sniffle, “you’re the first person I’ve
told any of this too… not even…I…” She stopped herself, trying to catch
her breath, “not even James, when I was with him… I couldn’t tell him… I
couldn’t admit that I failed again…”

 

“Barbara, no… no… you didn’t fail…” Lulu wondered what merit those words
might have coming from someone like herself – but she continued anyway,
“sometimes, sometimes it just doesn’t work… sometimes relationships
don’t work…”

 

The corners of Barbara’s mouth moved to form a slight smile, “is the ink
even dry yet?”

 

“I know, I know… I am probably the last person you should be taking
marital advice from…” Lulu returned the smiled, “ask my Mother, she’ll
tell you…”

 

At that, Barbara couldn’t help but laugh, “I guess she has been around
the block a time or two…”

 

“Or three…” Lulu corrected. Her tone then turned a bit more serious,
“but I’ve got to hand it to her, she gets up and tries again…”

 

“I don’t know if I have it in me,” Barbara confessed sadly, “I really
don’t think I could face another failure…” 

 

The alarm clock on the nightstand was a distraction for Lulu. Hours had
passed, and still nothing from him.

 

<Did he even care?> she allowed herself to wonder, again.

 

“At least you admit there’s a problem, I denied it for so long…I just…”
Lulu thought again of Nick,  “I guess I denied a lot of things…”

 

“Without the baby, I guess… I guess we just didn’t make sense,” Barbara
admitted through her tears, as if Lulu needed an explanation. “I wanted
to try again, right away…” she sobbed,  “but Evan, he… he wasn’t so sure…”

 

Unusually embarrassed by her emotional display, Barbara wiped her face
again with her hands. For one reason or another, her tears refused to
stop. Tonight she had lost a friend. Tonight her marriage had ended.
Tonight was the sad beginning of what would be the rest of her life.

 

**

To be continued…