Family – Daddy's Little Girl and Other Revelations Author: Sarah Grauvogl Email: grauvose@muohio.edu Rating: PG Summary: Father's Day serves as a turning point, for everyone… Author's Notes: This fic picks up weeks after the "Antarctic" chill of the TG finale. There is not much interaction amongst the characters in this first installment, as it is used more to set up for what's ahead and to inform the reader of what's been going on since "Antarctica" left off. Disclaimer: The story is mine but the main characters are not – many thanks to the wonderful DH for their initial creation. ~*~ Father's Day June 20, 2004 Stepping up to the kitchen counter, Burton reached for the phone and dialed the number from memory. He was certain his son would be up by now – he had always been an early riser. Nick was always up to something, especially since he had taken over LSP. Between the baby and the clinic, it seemed as if Nick had no free time…yet he somehow managed to put out feelers at some of the larger firms in the city, already looking ahead. Or at least that was what he announced last week, sometime after dinner but just before dessert as the three of them sat around the table – with Anne close by. Sunday dinners were the only definite chance Burton had to see his son and the grandbaby, apart from the occasional visit during the week. Another week had gone by, and today was *their* day. * With a mound of disorderly papers and files surrounding him, Nick carefully set his coffee onto the table and reached for the phone, "hello?" Momentarily distracted as his mind began to wander, Burton didn't reply. He thought of the news Lulu had brought to the table the week before, and wondered what practice it could be. She wasn't the type to name names, but he knew of quite a few practices in the city whose senior partners were getting up there, certain that he knew at least half if not all of those old curmudgeons. "Hello?" Nick repeated. He wasn't used to calls on Sunday, at least not yet. Nick thought it might be her, calling to cancel. Though she hadn't missed a dinner since Anne was born – he never could be certain. Assumption wasn't something he was good at when it came to Lulu, he was usually, if not always, wrong. Much to his surprise, the dinners had gone well… it was comfortable for them, at least by the time they left. Nick knew she was reluctant to come, and he was hesitant to have her there – but Anne seemed to ease a lot of the tension. The way they doted upon their baby made the time fly by, leaving them little opportunity to notice the flaws in each other. "Nicholas, it's me…" Burton paused a moment, feeling a certain amount of pride as the words slipped out of his mouth, "happy Father's Day, Son…" Without much effort, Nick's lips moved into a small smile as he relaxed into the conversation, "same to you, Dad…" "You and Anne are coming for dinner, right?" Just like an anxious child himself, Burton twisted the phone cord around his finger as he waited for Nick's reply, his mind already planning out their menu. "Yeah, of course…" Nick wondered why his father called every week to ask, as if their plans might have changed. "Will Louisa be joining us today?" Burton was never positive if he should set the table for two or three. Though she had been there the previous weeks, he had called himself a few days before to extend the invitation, hoping that Nick hadn't changed his mind and told her otherwise. "As far as I know," Nick mumbled, his eyes moving over the document in front of him as he spoke, no longer paying much attention to his father's words. "You asked her…" Immediately sensing his son's mood, Burton knew better than to try and push the subject any further, "I'm thinking of firing up the grill, does that sound good?" "It sounds fine…" he answered, feeling a bit more particular about the company he'd be keeping than the food. "Lobster, I think lobster sounds good with some fresh grilled vegetables and rice…" Burton paused long enough to take a quick sip of the orange juice he had set aside earlier in a glass, preparing himself for the call, "and what time do you get little Anne?" "Lulu is bringing her over about 11…" Nick replied, checking his watch yet again, eager to see his baby. "You two gonna go somewhere? Do something??" Burton inquired curiously, never having had the opportunity to bond with his own child at such a young age. "No… not yet…" he returned quietly, unsure of how they'd spend their hours together. Nick glanced down again at the paperwork spilled out before him, knowing that he could afford to set aside for just one afternoon. "Come by `round 2:30 or so… I think Lulu said she'd take care of the dessert?" Burton asked, hopefully, wanting to be sure that everything was taken care of. While he could handle all other aspects of the meal with ease, dessert was something he never mastered. That was always left up to Anne, at least until she passed away and the Sunday dinners started. "I… I don't know, did she?" Nick was always reluctant to commit her to anything, never knowing when or if her mind would change. "Well, I'm sure we'll come up with something if she didn't…" Burton replied with a hearty laugh, "there's the grocery not far from here… just in case…" "Right." Nick knew better than to contradict his father or offer to stop at the store himself, just in case. Sunday dinners had become his father's main project, something he looked forward to all week. Wanting to get out to the market and get a head start, Burton knew it was time to end the call, "I'll see you later, Son…" "Bye, Dad…" Nick hung up the phone and set it aside, ready to get back to work, promising himself that once Anne arrived – his attention would be hers. For now, he had more on his troubled mind… This was the Sunday routine, the schedule he had fallen into since he took over LSP and they worked out a custody agreement… the Sunday dinners had been part of the deal. In spite of their differences, they both agreed it would be good for Anne. If it hadn't been for Burton mentioning it to her first, Nick would've been content to let the idea just slip by and be swept under the rug with all of Burton's other well-intentioned plans. `Family time' with his father was never easy, but Nick knew it meant a lot to him to have them there. Though he tried to explain what was, or perhaps better said, wasn't, going on with Lulu, Burton was insistent upon her being there – if not for his son, than for Anne. Much to his surprise, Lulu had accepted the invitation and was rather willing to help his father with the preparations. Since the baby's arrival, Burton had mentioned noting a change in Lulu – this one, for the better. Nick was resistant to look for this change himself, wary of where it could lead him. He was reluctant to trust her efforts, not knowing what brought them on and still spurned by her desire not to get married… accepting it as sufficient reason to be apart, believing she didn't want him. Burton said he saw a change between `them' as well and Nick knew it was futile to argue that he often wondered if there was still a `them' to be considered. Each week, at about this time on Sunday, he wondered when it would end – when the call would come and the plans would change. It seemed to be going well, better than he imagined it would. Until these dark thoughts began to invade his mind, he actually had hope for the future. Seeing her as the mother of his child brought her into a different light, at least from his point of view. Anne was her focus, not where they… or he… went wrong. They had to make an effort, to make things work, at least for her. The first few days were miserable, but as they slowly worked into their routine, they seemed to be doing something right… even though they were technically `apart' it was a new step for them, seemingly in the right direction. That's what scared him the most, that things were going too well and he could easily screw it up… These thoughts threatened him before, and in moments of uncertainty, like the one he found himself in now… it was ever so easy to crack and make mistakes … ~*~ Being that it was Sunday morning, another dinner was just hours away. This time it was just a little different – today was *their* day, it was Father's Day. Lulu was met by the exact same uneasiness she felt at this time the week before. Looking at her baby girl asleep in her arms, Lulu knew that she had all the reason in the world to accept the dinners as part of the custody agreement, it was what was best for Anne…she needed her family. In spite of what happened between her and Nick, she wanted him to be in their daughter's life – she wanted that for her Annie, to have a better relationship with her father than she had with her own. Her Annie was every bit her father's child, from appearances to temperament – there was no denying she was Daddy's little girl. Soft , pale strawberry blonde hair and the bluest of eyes…she was truly a beautiful baby, reminding Lulu very much of the few slides she had seen from the early years of Nick's life, a part of himself that he wasn't often willing to share. Her stubborn, quiet nature made some of the slightest tasks a challenge, but Lulu felt they were both adapting well. Rocking the baby gently gave her a chance to think, to clear her mind. As her life was about to take another hectic turn, she appreciated the serenity she found in such a simple action… Thinking about the night ahead, Lulu couldn't help but draw comparisons to her own childhood. That was her driving force; to make sure things were different for Anne. In a perfect world, she'd be able to give her daughter the family she so deserves to have. She thought whatever it was that she and Nick had would be better for Anne than two parents who make each other so unhappy trying to force a broken relationship to work… as her own parents had tried. Circumstances were certainly different for Anne, but trust was never something Lulu did with ease. Trusting that Nick wasn't going to run away took a lot – and there will still times when she was completely convinced he wouldn't want to stick around if something better came along for him. Adjusting to `single' motherhood wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be, even with Anne's needs taken into consideration – going back to work and leaving the baby would be the real challenge, and the time had come far too soon… she didn't think she was ready. Caring for the baby full-time was demanding, but she didn't regret her decision – not for a minute. But she knew it couldn't go on forever, that she had to go back one day. She could only hope that things wouldn't change between her and Nick that their custody arrangement would continue to work. Going back to work would be another complication for them, of that Lulu was certain. She thought the time apart seemed to ease some of the tension, giving each other space with their daughter as their only common ground and means for interaction. He was a great father, she could see it already, but it was their own relationship that had her concerned. After Anne's birth, she had put them into an awkward place – there was too much unresolved between them, too much uncertainty and mistrust. She knew he was angry, and he had every right to be – but she still didn't think he understood her, why she said what she did, why she felt that way. Perhaps it didn't matter now – but in moments like this, as she sat there with their baby girl in her arms, she'd like to think that it did. She liked to think that *maybe,* one day, things would work out between them… and they could have a family. Lulu thought, above all, they needed time. As she trusted him with their child, she was slowly beginning to trust him again as the man she loved. She was fairly certain most of these feelings had died, that they had dissipated with the aftermath of the affair – but seeing him with Anne, seeing him as a different man, those feelings surged again…even stronger than before. But, trusting her feelings was never easy – they had betrayed her before. Eternal doubt plagued her, perhaps one of the worst consequences of her childhood. She never wanted Anne to know that feeling; she never wanted her to be so paralyzed. Trying not to stir the baby, Lulu carefully got up from the rocking chair and walked toward her crib. She gently laid Anne down and waited, just in case. "Sleep tight, my love," Lulu leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her daughter's pale brow, and lightly stroked her cheek with her fingertips. As custom, she just stood there for a moment, in complete awe – still unable to believe this was her baby girl. For all the differences between her and Nick, Anne was the best thing they had done… and for that she'd be forever grateful. Despite her own initial doubts and the problems that eventually drove them apart, Lulu knew Anne was worth it. Just as Lulu was about to close Anne's bedroom door, the phone rang. Not wanting to wake up Anne, Lulu grabbed the phone from the table before it could ring again and answered, "hello?" "Hello, I'm calling for Louisa Archer…" the masculine voice replied, "is she in?". "This is she…" Lulu said warily, not recognizing the voice. It was Nick who usually called around this time, to make sure she'd be coming for dinner. "Who is this?" she asked as she came quietly down the stairs. "I'm Dr. Richard Kaplan from the Mahoning County Coroner's Office in Youngstown, Ohio…" "What… what can I do for you?" Lulu asked, her heart beginning to race and her mind already filling with grim possibilities. "Have you been in contact with the local authorities, Ms. Archer?" Dr. Kaplan was unaware if they had called her first, after the initial report had been filed. It was always worse when he had to break the news to the unsuspecting. "No… I haven't been, I'm not entirely sure I know anyone in Mahoning County…" Lulu sat down on one of the lower steps, feeling very ill at ease. "That's what I'm calling about," Dr. Kaplan paused a moment, "we normally send an officer to the house, and ask you to come on in…" "What?" Lulu tried to catch her breath, wanting to believe this was some type of a mistake, "I'm sorry, Dr. Kaplan, but I must've missed something…" "I hate to have to do this, especially on a holiday, but we're going to need you to come down here. There's a missing person's report out for…" "Oh, God…" she gasped. As Dr. Kaplan continued to speak, Lulu brought her hand over her face, her head tipped forward and her eyes damp. She had no idea what she or how she was supposed to be feeling. Her body was tense; this was a jolt she didn't need during an already difficult time. Lulu could hear the words being said, but she wasn't taking them in…she didn't want to. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem real. An awkward silence ensued after the scant details were given. "Ms. Archer," Dr. Kaplan finally said, "I'm sorry that I had to be the one to tell you this…" "No… no…it's just…" Lulu wiped her eyes, trying to pull herself back together, "maybe I'm not the one to do this…" "We need a positive ID on the body, the sooner the ID is made – the sooner the police can find out who is responsible for this…" Dr. Kaplan explained, "we'd like you to come in this afternoon…" "This afternoon?" she repeated, hoping some alternative option might be given. It seemed too improbable to be true – Lulu didn't trust herself to believe him, she didn't want to. "I know it's a holiday, but…" Dr. Kaplan waited a moment to continue, "but today would be best…" "I really don't think I can do this," Lulu wiped her eyes again, the reality of her conflict setting in, "I can't…" "Ms. Archer, I understand that this is difficult news, but if its not today…" Dr. Kaplan was careful not to press her, as families were entitled to have their time – time enough to let the shock wear off. Maybe that's what she needed. Knowing there weren't other options, he took a breath, and started again, "I'll tell you what, take a little while and let this sink in…come by the office later today, whenever you're ready…" "Whenever I'm ready," she repeated, "you can't be ready for this…" "Once again, Ms. Archer, my sincere apologies… I'll let you know as soon as I hear something." Since there was no use in putting off the inevitable, Lulu knew she had to go, "it's Oak Hill Avenue, correct?" "Yes, up the street from the police station," Dr. Kaplan added, "I can get the officers down here as well, if you have any questions. "Thank you," she returned quietly, "I'll see what I can do." All Lulu could think as she hung up the phone was *you couldn't begin to understand.* She sat there for a moment, allowing the news to sink in. What had started off as a `maybe' was now looking like a distinct possibility – they were nearly positive it was him. Hard as it was to acknowledge, this was something she had to do for herself. It was the only way to put that part of her life behind her, to finally get a chance to move on. Slowly going back up the stairs, the fear began to set in – the fear that there was no mistake, that this was him. Lulu knew that she didn't want to have to go there alone, but as Nick had previously pointed out to her, it was *her* decision to have things this way. Maybe it was better *this way,* she was certain he wouldn't understand, making things all the more difficult between them, a complication they definitely did not need. It didn't make sense to tell him anything now; she didn't think it would make a difference. She wasn't `his' problem any more, she couldn't just go to him as if… Despite her recent efforts, communication between them wasn't any easier. Perhaps he didn't believe her. The feelings she felt weren't right, they only made her question her decision about `them' even more. She knew she needed him, and not just at times like this… she just couldn't trust that he (still) felt the same, it was a lingering doubt, a constant burden that she couldn't get past. A few minutes later, the baby's soft cry mercifully interrupted her thoughts. She wasn't supposed to be awake yet, but Lulu had to see her – to hold her in her arms again. She needed that. Leaving the phone on a small table in the hallway, Lulu walked into her daughter's room. She went over to the crib and picked the tiny baby up, holding her close. Lulu tipped her head down and pressed her lips gently to Anne's forehead, "we're going to go see your Dad a little early, okay?" What she'd tell Nick about today, if anything, she didn't yet know. She was supposed to be there with them – but as long as he had Anne, she thought everything would be okay, that he *might* understand… *~* Father's Day Morning -- June 19th, 2004 With plans set for later that afternoon, Burton continued on with what had become a weekly ritual – his trip to the grocery. Never knowing what health kick his son might be on, or unable to remember if he had even bothered to ask Lulu what she'd like, he was never certain of just what to buy. Each dinner seemed to be a bit more of an eclectic mix than the last, and he assumed that the menu would only get more challenging as little Anne grew and got an appetite of her own. Believing that he had everything he needed, he slowly made his way toward mess of people near the checkout counters at the front of the store. His mind was already ten paces ahead, worrying if he'd have everything ready by the time he told them all to come by. Usually, he did but he never wanted to be too sure of himself. Crunched for time, he steered his cart without giving much thought to any obstacles that might be in his way. He checked the contents of the cart one last time, hoping for some last minute inspiration as to the whim of his guests. Satisfied, he pushed ahead – right into some woman struggling to choose a check-out lane. "Excuse me," the woman said quietly, more interested in moving out of the way than seeing who the perpetrator was. "Oh, oh, oh…. I'm so sorry…" Burton said as he pulled his cart back. Just as he opened his eyes to inspect the potential damage – he realized who it was. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as embarrassment surged through him. It just wasn't like him to be so careless. "That's quite all right, Burton…" she caught her breath, quickly regaining her composure – more startled than angered by the subtle jolt. "Laurie," Burton murmured quietly, his cheeks turning already a shade past crimson, "I must not be paying attention…" Shaking her head dismissively, Laurie just smiled, "so tell me, how have you been?" "Good, good… slowin' down a bit, but I still get around…" he stopped himself there, not wanting to bore her with the monotony of the business, or at least what was left of it. The small laugh that followed was of disbelief. Laurie was positive she knew him better, even with only brief, casual interactions between them. "I don't think I can ever see you slowing down, Burton Fallin…" she finally said, her laughter betraying any seriousness she might hope to convey. "You know me, I've always got to have my hands in something," Burton slowly raised his head, his sparkly blue grey eyes looking over her as the corners of his mouth spread further apart, forming a smile. It was the first time in a long time that he considered the possibility; she wasn't totally out of his league. "And your granddaughter?" Laurie's curiosity had gotten the better of her, she couldn't help but ask. Though she would never tell him directly, she thought it was a role he was much better suited for than second-time father, especially with the likes of one Shannon Gressler involved. "She's really something, beautiful little baby…" he boasted proudly, as he reached for his wallet. Burton pulled out a small snapshot and held it out for her viewing, "this is from just a week or so ago…" Taking the picture in her hands, Laurie inspected it carefully. She overlooked the obvious, only choosing to see a sweet baby girl with the beginnings of strawberry blonde curls and the bluest eyes. She gave a smile of approval, "seems like you're enjoying being a grandparent?" "She keeps us all on our toes…" he admitted happily, looking every bit like the beaming new grandfather that he was, "and I'll tell you, I don't know how that Lulu keeps up with her…" "I wonder that myself when I see my own children," Laurie replied with a laugh, "how is Lulu? I only got to speak with her briefly, at Alvin's service…" It was only after Laurie asked her question that she wondered if she had wandered into unreasonable territory, not knowing how things were between Nick and Lulu. "I still can't believe that he's gone…" Burton said quietly, never expecting an outspoken man like Alvin Masterson to bow out the way he did. "Nor can I… the lives of the city's children are better because of him, I guess that's his legacy…" Laurie paused a moment, "but at least there's still LSP, and I'm sure that Nick and Lulu will make him proud…" Choosing to avoid the obvious implications by speaking of her in context with Nick, Burton chose to merely answer Laurie's earlier question, "motherhood is good for her, it really is. I'm not sure how it fits in, with her future plans for working, but she seems to be enjoying it…" "Nick seems to be adjusting well, to the new job and the baby…" Laurie added casually, sensing Burton's hesitation. "Oh yeah, of course… but he's looking ahead, you know, the next step…" Burton released a heavy sigh, seemingly exasperated by the thought of what might be in his son's future. With Nick, one could never tell. Disappointed by Burton's news, that Nick wouldn't be long in his position at LSP, Laurie thought it was best to bring their conversation to a close, before she let her own opinions get the better of her. Despite whatever she might think, she knew it was Nick's decision and that Burton would support him no matter what. "Well, it was great to see you, Burton…" she said quietly, looking off in another direction and hoping for a swift getaway. "Good to see you too…" Burton released a heavy sigh, contemplating his next move. It wasn't like him, to have to think about what to say or how to continue a conversation… but he wanted to. "Bye now…" Laurie waited a moment and turned away, almost feeling guilty. She didn't know what more she could say to him, how to engage him further. Nick was their connection, though she was sure they knew many of the same people, given their professions. She stood there in place, not sure she wanted to go just yet. It wasn't like her, at all, to be forward in this type of situation. The thought had crossed her mind, at least once or twice before, to ask him out – at least for coffee. When she had seen him at Alvin's service, the opportunity was gone before she could get up the nerve. Not much time had passed before Burton allowed impulse to take over. Throwing all caution aside, he did the first thing that came to mind. "Laurie?" At the sound of her name, Laurie stopped and turned around. "Yes?" "You have plans for later today?" Burton asked shyly, feeling as nervous as any high school boy asking his crush out on a date. He knew that she'd probably say no, that she'd have plans of her own – he wasn't sure what made him ask. It wasn't his son's imminent disapproval that worried him, but the fear of rejection. He had wanted to take her out before, but she always turned him down. Nicholas, or so he believed, had a lot to do with it. Today is Father's Day, Burton thought to himself, and this is for me. With his hands sunk deep into his pockets, Burton waited quietly for her reply. He was almost certain her silence was indicative of her searching, searching for an excuse not to come by. "I…" Laurie took a deep breath, clearly embarrassed by her surprise at his offer. It wasn't the first time Burton Fallin had requested her company, but given her relationship with Nick because of his community service, she always felt reluctant to accept – tempting as the invitations were. Things were different now, for all of them. They could be mature adults about this, she was sure of it. It didn't matter who worked with whom or how it would look within the close-knit Pittsburgh legal system. For the first time in a long time, Laurie didn't care what anyone else thought. "Nicholas and Lulu will be by with the baby, about 2:30 if you'd like to join us for supper…" Burton continued, trying to make his offer a bit more appealing, "nothing formal, really… just something that we do…" Glancing down at the sparse contents of her grocery basket, Laurie knew she had nothing better to do that afternoon – it wasn't as if men were busting down her door. "No, I wouldn't want to intrude…" she answered hesitantly, "its your day with your family…" "I've got plenty of food here, cooking out on the grill, Lulu's got our dessert…." Burton paused a moment, catching his breath, "I know its last minute and everything, but c'mon…" "Really, I shouldn't…" Laurie tipped her head forward, unable to look him in the eyes and turn away. Ignoring her polite refusal, Burton leaned in closer and smiled, "you know, I've got a grandbaby to show off now…you won't deny a man that, will you?" Well aware of the fact that Burton Fallin didn't often take no for an answer, Laurie knew she was in no position to argue. Making her decision, his warm smile eased any residual apprehension. "What shall I bring?" she asked, although positive he would have thought of everything by now. "Yourself, for starters…" Burton returned happily, pleased with her reply. After the Sandra Kestle bit at the firm, he had been hesitant to ask anyone out, worried about potential repercussions… even with an old friend like Laurie. "Nothing at all?" she asked, hoping that he'd change his mind. With a smile still on his face, Burton shook his head, "nah… just yourself, I'll see you at two-thirty…" "I'll be there," Laurie returned the smile and walked off, leaving Burton somewhere near the check out line. As the clerk rang up his items, Burton's mind began to wander aimlessly, distracted by thoughts of the day ahead. He paid for his groceries, loaded the bags into the cart and made his way out to the car, choosing not to take advantage of the young boys waiting at the end of the counter to help old men like him. Denial, that's what it was. He didn't want to admit that he needed help or that the company he had every Sunday afternoon was what he lived for. Using his hand as a shade, he searched for his Cadillac in the filled parking lot. He couldn't remember why he drove this far, when he could've easily gone to the market on his side of town. Time to think, I guess, Burton conceded as he made a mental list of all that had to be done when he got home. It was a lot, but he enjoyed the challenge of cooking and entertaining others. Today's company would be of some reprieve… While he didn't expect Laurie to say yes, Burton was relieved that she did. Besides seeing little Anne that afternoon, it gave him something to really look forward to. His relationship with Nick was as tense as ever, and communication between them was never easy. He thought the baby's birth would help them out a bit, but whenever their dinner discussions turned professional or became too personal – he knew they were still worlds apart, there was so much that his son kept from him. Most of the time, Lulu was great for conversation, but he felt that she too was holding something back, her nervous smile betraying her when she sat down across from Nick. Though Nicholas was his son, he couldn't really blame Lulu for how she responded to his affair – he knew how he felt with Anne, and how even now it still hurt him from time to time. Her pills and moods were never easy to take, nor were the drugs and drinking that his son indulged in. Nick had given her more than enough reason to walk away and never look back, but she stuck around… and for that Burton was grateful. He wished she had said yes to the proposal, but he could understand why she didn't. He too had his doubts about them. He would never question his son's love for Lulu, but he would be wary of his son's readiness for marriage. Fatherhood was one thing, but marriage was a commitment of a whole other sort – one that he wasn't sure Nick could put his whole heart in to with so much uncertainty in other areas of his life. The baby's birth had been a turning point, for all of them. Even though he got on well with Lulu personally, and respected her professionally, he wondered about her intentions with his son. Knowing her mother as he did, he of course was a little wary. It wasn't what Nick told him about her, as he said very little, but what he heard from others that he relied upon to draw his conclusions. Her career choice, her first marriage, the accident, the job offer in Berkeley, the pregnancy, the refused proposal, the affair and everything there after made him consider if she was really the one for his son. It was all part of the whole, at least in his mind, and these details needed to be taken into consideration. That was a defect, perhaps in the Fallin genes; they both had inherent tendencies to overlook all that was there and only see what was desired. He had been that way with his Anne, seeing her as the woman he wanted her to be instead of who she really was. Perfection was what they thought they wanted, but what they as broken men needed was someone they could help, someone they could repair… someone who would let themselves be taken care of. After many years of fighting, even in the end, Anne wouldn't grant him that privilege. He had tried for far too long to offer her the security that money and objects could bring – but that wasn't at all what she needed and it took her affairs and the destruction of their family for him to find out. He could only hope for the best with Nick, that he'd find a way to get to her, to help her break down the walls… that he'd act with his heart instead of his wallet. That was one of his biggest mistakes in life, one he prayed to God that he wouldn't see his son repeat. Even though Nick would never tell him what was said that day he stopped by the hospital to meet his grandbaby, he sensed immediately that it wasn't good. He knew how stubborn his son was, and that no child of Caroline Novak could be much better. There had been talk of counseling, to try and help them through, but with the problems at F&F and Anne's early arrival – all attempts had been put on hold, not that he'd want to question Nick about that. The next day he brought up Sunday dinners again, wanting to plan for that week, and Nick just shook his head when he asked about Lulu. That's when Burton took it upon himself to call, insisting that she be there even if Sunday was Nick's day to be with Anne. Nick vehemently objected and he knew that Lulu was hesitant to accept, but being the lawyer that he was – he wasn't above negotiations. It was about Anne, plain and simple, and those two needed to put their petty garbage aside and grow up. In case either one of them hadn't gotten the message after their first dinner together, he wasn't ready to give up on their relationship just yet. If Lulu could give Nick the chance to be a father, even after he screwed up, he was sure that his son could give her another chance as well...one that wasn't prompted by a decision to stay in Pittsburgh instead of moving clear across the country. There was something about Lulu that reminded him of his own Anne, he wasn't sure if Nick saw it or if he had even noticed… and Burton sure as hell wasn't going to ask. It wasn't necessarily one of Anne's finer traits, but one that drew him to her nonetheless. There was a constant sense of denial about what one felt, the need for frequent reassurance – a certain degree of obliviousness about how much love was really being given to them. He recognized it immediately in Lulu, even before she was with his son, but more so after she moved in with Nick and he witnessed his son's reaction to the quick but very public kiss she tried to give him at the office. While to Nick it might be a rather insignificant event, a thoughtless action… Burton knew better than that. Having been in the tumultuous relationship he was with Anne, he knew to look at the little things, after all… it was what made the big picture. If a sign of affection was what she needed, than that's what she should've received – no matter who was watching. It would've done his heart good to see his boy drop his defenses so spontaneously, to indulge in the simple pleasure of receiving affection from the woman he loved. He questioned if his son would ever be able to fill that need in Lulu, to let her know the love he claimed to feel. His boy was so needy himself, he wasn't sure. Even now, after all these years, Burton questioned if Anne really knew how much he loved her. It was just how she was, to seem so aloof and seemingly blind to his efforts and affections. Though he hadn't told Nicholas, his old pride still getting the better of him, it took three proposals before his mother said yes to marriage. The unplanned pregnancy and miscarriage, none of which was ever mentioned to Nick, didn't help convince Anne of his intentions. He wanted to marry her, but he wanted to be ready, to be able to offer her the type of life he felt that she deserved – the pregnancy just sped him up. He was certain that Nick was in the same position, and that Lulu had the same doubts in her mind and heart that Anne did. It seemed as if she was in denial of being in love, with a man that didn't fit her ideal image. Though hurt by Anne, he wasn't going to accept defeat. In spite of the miscarriage, he tried again, and again – eventually, Anne did say yes. After the wedding, she seemed plagued by uncertainty over the choice she had made – the man and the life she had chosen to dedicate herself to. He had done all he could to try and ease her anxiety, but Anne believed what she wanted to. The biggest change in Anne had come with Nicholas' birth, and he had become smitten with her all over again as he witnessed the outpouring of love she had for their son. She was often cautious and even at times, distant, with him; but with their son – there were no bounds. This was all the conviction that he needed that he had made the right choice, that she was the woman for him. If she could love any part of him, anything they created together so much… they would be okay. That belief alone was what sustained him in the hardest parts of their marriage… Trying to watch the road, Burton wiped his damp eyes and tightened his grip on the wheel – his thoughts eating away at him. With no intent to share his musings with his son, Burton continued his mental comparison of Lulu to his late wife. One of the biggest differences between them, or so he believed, was a need for independence – something that he attributed to their different backgrounds. While Anne had often sought security and comfort in the arms of others, Lulu sought it in other ways, wanting to know things would be taken care of without necessarily having someone there to do it. As long as she had the means, Lulu was bound and determined to get things done for herself. Burton knew she had often sought Nick's counsel both personally and professionally, but he attributed that to a lack of a better way to approach his son as opposed to a sincere need for his help. It was a problem he often had himself; he didn't know how to get close to Nick. He could relate with her on that level, knowing how selective his boy was about who he let in. Though Nick would never tell him much, and he would never dare to ask their status as a couple, he knew that Lulu still got to his son and that she was still very much on his mind. The only way he could make Nick confront those feelings, and go after what he wants was to have her sitting right there, even at the risk of rejection. That was the only way to make Lulu get past her denial, to have her there and to treat her like family – the family that she was hesitant to be a part of. Her coming to the dinners spoke volumes about what she felt. He might be old, but he still knew what was going on. There was just something about her that betrayed the notion that she had given Nick, that she wanted to be alone. He saw it every week, and he knew (even if Nick hadn't said as much) that his son wasn't ready to let her go. Saying it was about little Anne was only part of the deal, getting them both there was the other. The tension at the table was palpable, and Burton relished in the fact that he was responsible for that. His little Anne needed them both and whether they admitted it or not, they needed each other. Though he didn't want his son to know his pain, having been through all the hell with Anne, Burton didn't regret those years and he believed that there was something more to them than Nick's silences or Lulu's distant gazes would ever allude to. He knew Nick was hurt when Lulu petitioned trusteeship, and he too felt a bit wounded when she decided to give the little one her name – but the biggest surprise came when she agreed to come to the Sunday dinners, in spite of all that had happened. He couldn't figure out why, at first, if she had really wanted to end everything between them. Of course they'd still have little Anne, and a custody agreement to work out, but this was more. As he tells his clients, when advising them on business decisions, this goes beyond what you *need* to do and into what you *want* to do. As expected, Nick wasn't quiet with his objections to Lulu being there, insisting that if she wanted to be with him – things wouldn't have gone as they did at the hospital. Feeling rather bold on that first Sunday, he reminded his son that if she didn't want to be with him in some way, if she wanted him out for good, his precious baby girl wouldn't have been named after his mother and she wouldn't be showing up that evening at 4 to join them. Yes, he knew it was merely a `small bone' that Nick was being thrown in light of rejection, but it was about compromise, and learning that it takes time to make things right. His son had to learn that he couldn't always have what he wanted when he wanted it. Patience was a virtue, especially in the Fallin family since there was so little of it. If Nick had to be patient with Lulu, waiting to be with her; then she had to be patient with him, knowing at the very least that he was trying. Another quality that separated her from his Anne was her willingness to give in . While she was ready to walk away, to leave before the real hurt and imminent pain set in; it was like Anne to hold on to the bitter end, there was no reprieve in the final hour – grudges were permanent in her eyes, and one was forever marked by their wrong. Lulu was quick to judge, but she also came around when needed; she gave Nick the chance to be a father. He was worried that Lulu might be the same as Anne in that sense, and look at Nicholas forever with the same scrutinizing eyes that Anne looked at him… but she proved him wrong, at least up to this point. Though she was willing to walk away, to save herself from their relationship, she didn't hold their problems over him when it came to Anne. She resented the drugs, and what he had done – which in Burton's mind was understandable – but she also let Nick stay involved enough to allow him to be the type of father their baby needed him to be, and maybe involved just enough in her own life to see him differently for herself. That was a privilege that his Anne hadn't given him, she fought him until the sorrowful end. Even if it was against his son's better wishes, he knew he was right in his decision to ask Lulu to join them for their Sunday dinners. Maybe he was putting his nose where it didn't belong, meddling in his son's affairs; but truth be told, he would've never invited her into his home if he didn't feel she was capable of loving his son. Difficult as it was, he believed she was trying – perhaps now more than ever before. Anne made Lulu see a lot things differently, that he had decided from that first Sunday dinner. In fact, she made them all see things a bit differently. In a bout of guilt, he blamed himself for many of their problems. His relationship with Anne, his absence in Nick's youth, the drugs, the past – he knew it all factored in somehow. He wasn't beyond reason; he knew Lulu brought her own past and problems to the mix, but he felt a need to try and right his own contributions… maybe that's why he was trying so hard. Nonsense, that's what Burton thought it was – two people who appear to want the same thing but are on such different pages they completely miss each other. Those two both needed a swift kick of reality and he was sure he could count on his little Anne to deal a blow. The lengthy silences at the dinner table allowed him to think, to draw these comparisons that would not otherwise be considered. Despite his determination to keep Nick and little Anne as his priorities, Burton knew better than to completely forget about himself. Asking Laurie to join them made him feel good, it really made him believe in second chances. *~* The setting of the cemetery was always the same, or so the young girl thought as she stepped out of the dark blue Mercedes sedan. There'd be new flowers here and there, maybe a new name carved in granite, or a new family grieving at a grave – but nothing really changed, the dead were still dead. It was a rather cynical way to look at the world, but life hadn't been kind to her. To have her mother taken from her at such a young age seemed like a cruel conspiracy, abandoning her, forcing her to face the world alone. Left with a father who wasn't hers and many questions unanswered, cynicism was her best defense against the future. Resentment for her mother came easily, after all – she was the one who had given up. Visits like this were what she needed to remind her that her mother was only human, that this wasn't her choice. "I'll be back, Dad… I won't be long…" she said quietly, closing the door behind her. With an eerie sense of familiarity, she found her way over to the grave. The pale gray marble stone was newly polished, the surrounding lawn well manicured. It was the least they can do, she thought, to make her comfortable. * Margaret Lee-Green Loving Mother and Dearest Wife March 3, 1959- May 11, 2001 We've no right to lie to other people or ourselves – E. Wharton * Not many of the gravestones had quotes on them, but for her mother… it was a necessity. Teaching was the happiness and calm she had in what was otherwise a rather tumultuous life. Wharton's words could not be more ironic, for their life, it seemed – was a rather extended lie. A lie, that's what she felt she had been living when her mother told her the truth about her affair, how she had come into existence. The blissful, oblivious reality she had thrived in for her first ten years was shattered with her mother's simple confession, which had been prompted by a diagnosis that guaranteed her death. Even though her mother always said she was mature for her age, she wasn't prepared at all to know the truth. She hated her mother for doing that to her, for robbing her of that she believed and trusted. The last two years of her mother's life were miserable; she fought her every inch of the way. It had been three long years since her mother died, but she still wasn't sure she could forgive what she had done. This was the worst betrayal she could imagine, a mother abandoning her daughter just when she needed her most. A well-adjusted teen she was not. Her mother's death had forced her to grow up well before her time. Her father knew books, not people. They both struggled with her mother's death. He told her once that he lost a woman he longer knew, and it was the memories of who she once was that helped him to move on. The mother she knew was the one she still wanted, and still needed. Though her father vowed to never leave again, she considered herself an orphan from the day her mother was diagnosed – her family already gone. There was a certain emptiness deep inside, a loneliness that no child should have to know. Knowing that her father was waiting in the car, it was time to bring her visit to a close. She bent over and placed the flowers down, nothing special – just a bunch of wild flowers, but the ones her mother loved to pull from the side of the road. She remembered chiding her once for that, sometime after her mother's confession, reminding her that it was a federal offense. Her mother told her that she was far too serious, and that was definitely a trait that she had inherited from her father, her real father. « Je t'aime, ma mère, je t'aime… » she whispered softly as she kneeled down before the marble stone, almost afraid that someone else might hear her. The picture placed on the corner of the gravestone still caught her eye, even after all these years and the anger that she felt. Her mother was stunning, that she had to admit. A raven-haired beauty, her Dad called her; or `my brown eyed girl' as her real father referred to her as when he had too much to drink, singing the song in its entirety when he wanted to make a scene. A scene wasn't what she was out to make this morning, so she said her goodbyes and turned away – not trusting herself not to cry, at risk of betraying the closure she insisted she had already found As she walked back toward where her father was parked, she thought about the picture. It was an old picture, old meaning before her mother was sick – before the chemo and radiation devastated her body and left the ruins of a beautiful woman. Seeing the picture again made her wonder why she couldn't look like her mother, why she couldn't have that legacy instead. The espresso brown eyes, the rich dark hair… it was just a distant memory… it wasn't at all what she saw when she looked in the mirror. Her years of teenage awkwardness were coming to an end, but even before her mother died she said she'd look like her father – a real stunner, the kind of person who walks past and you'd have to turn around to see them again. Once her secret was out, her mother freely attributed her daughter's physical characteristics to him, the man she referred to as her `real' father. The blue eyes, the perfectly symmetrical nose, the hair with just the slightest hint of red…it was all his contribution to the wonderful being that she was. He had also given her a passion for argument and an insatiable need for attention, her mother had divulged at least that much about her father. Before her Dad came back, her mother told her that she could meet her `real' father, and even made the arrangements to do so. That was then. Her father, or the man she believed to be, was all she had left. He was the man who was waiting for her there in the car. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and got in. He was holding the paper out in front of him, hoping the day's news would distract him from the imminent task at hand as he waited. His peppery gray hair and sleek bifocals gave him an educated look that she often wondered if her own father possessed. He was a business man, not of a large build but his personality could quickly fill any room. She had no idea how old he was, or what he did – her mother never told her that much about her `real' Dad. "Dad?" she wasn't trying to interrupt him, but he seemed a bit… off. Folding the paper, he forced himself to smile, "sorry…" "Are we going to go?" she looked back over her shoulder at the plots behind them, always feeling a bit anxious when the time came. "Everything okay?" he asked, waiting to hear the familiar `click' of the seat belt before he started the car's engine. "You know Mom," she said quietly, wiping her eyes. She tucked a long strand of hair back behind her ear, as her mother used to do for her. "That quote…on Mom's grave" she began, "where's it from?" Her father knew the answer, but it was one that he was hesitant to give. He worried she'd read too much into it, something she had a tendency to do. "So?" she looked at him, waiting. Another tendency was impatience, something that he long attributed to her father. "The Age of Innocence," he finally answered before turning up the radio. Music stimulated his thoughts, relieved his tension. His mind was elsewhere, already thinking ahead, about what he had to do, about who he had to meet. It took a minute for her to realize that they weren't headed back home as they pulled out of the cemetery and turned to the left. Instinctively, her suspicions took over as she watched the unfamiliar scenery change before her. Her father sat quietly beside her, his cool grey eyes locked on the road as he drove on. Though they had their problems, it wasn't like her father to act this way. He stayed in the car while she went to the grave, saying that he had been to visit just days before when she knew he hadn't – as he claimed a few earlier that he was out of town, leaving her with a nanny while he sought his escape. He suggested they come to the cemetery today only after remembering that he hadn't taken her on Mother's Day, far too wrapped in his work to depart…even for just a few hours. It seemed, in her mind at least, as if he just didn't care. Conversation between them had always been difficult, but her mother was a common subject they seemed to both enjoy. Usually, on the way to the cemetery, they'd share their memories and anecdotes as a way to lighten the mood. It was her way of holding on, keeping her alive. Today had been different; he didn't want to speak at all. When she tried to bring her up, this time he didn't respond. He said nothing, nothing at all, in return. They drove nearly the entire distance in silence. Silence wasn't what Paul Green wanted with his daughter, but it was all he could offer with such a heavy heart. It wasn't his decision to make the trip, on today of all days, but the guilt had finally caught up with him. It was one of his wife's last requests, one he promised to fulfill. Three years had passed since her death and he had found all the information he needed, yet he couldn't convince himself to go. He owed it to his daughter, and himself, for the truth to be known. Maggie had been honest with him from the beginning, it didn't take any test to prove that the child wasn't his – but it wasn't until after his former wife died that he realized he was left with the burden of reconciling the past, even if he didn't want to. After today, it would all be over – or so he wanted to believe. All Maggie had asked was that they meet, that Elizabeth knew who her `real' father was. He would allow for a meeting, but he wasn't about to give his child up… not without a fight. "Where are we going?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence that filled the interior of the car. Paul was at a loss for words, he didn't want to tell her why they had come – he wasn't ready for that. He looked at her, pained, "Elizabeth… I… uh…." "Is that why we're here?" Elizabeth looked at him, the panic apparent in her clear blue eyes. The signs all pointed in that direction, toward Pittsburgh. It's where her mother was from, where she worked – the place she loved. That's why she was buried there, even if her father had wanted her closer to their home in New York. Since her mother made her confession, Pittsburgh had become an almost mythical place; somewhere she had rarely been but heard so much of. As the tension moved through his body, Paul tightened his grip on the wheel, "we can't put this off forever…" "You told me we were coming to see Mom, you didn't say I had to see him…" she argued, her eyes already damp with tears. It had been a looming threat, one that Paul had mentioned only a few times since her mother had died. Usually it only came out when Paul was angry, when she was going through yet another rebellious phase – he'd threaten to call her father and send her to him. It was just a threat, just a way to make her change. At least until now. Careful not to take his eyes of the road for long, Paul turned to her, "I know, I know…I should've prepared you for this, but…" "But nothing…I'm not going…" she stammered, unwilling to reason. Elizabeth reached forward and turned the dial on the radio, raising the volume considerably. Paul knew that he shouldn't be angry with her, that Maggie was the one that he really had the problem with. This was difficult for them both, harder for him than he'd ever care to let on. Barely able to hear himself think, he turned down the radio and looked back at her, "Lizzie…." "Don't call me that…" Elizabeth returned snappishly, "just leave me alone…" "We have to do this, okay?" Paul wasn't going to budge; he wouldn't let her talk him out of it… not again. "No… no we don't…" she corrected him, "Mom's dead – she won't know if we go or not, if I never meet him…" Seeing that traffic was building up as they approached the bridge, Paul pulled over to the side of the road. He sat there for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Taking a deep breath, he began "we're here… and there is nothing more to discuss…you will see him today and we will go from there…" "Why do you want me to see him? He hasn't wanted to see me…" she yelled, the pain apparent in her voice, "Why? Why?" "He…" Paul tried to think of a way he could explain, a way he could somehow undo the damage that he and Maggie had done as they traded insults in their final years and invoked a helpless third party. He knew what he had said about her father and the secrets that Maggie kept, he knew how it all contributed to skewed image that she had of him. It wasn't fair to anyone, least of all Elizabeth. "That's because he doesn't know about you…" he added quietly. "If he cared, he would…" Elizabeth looked out the car window, contemplating an exit. Dangerous it was, but she felt more secure doing that than in moving ahead with a life she never wanted to have. "Maybe he does, you don't know that he doesn't…" Paul reasoned, unsure of why he was trying to protect the image of the man who contributed to the failure of his marriage. It wasn't as if the man walked away from his family, as Paul himself did, and he couldn't be held responsible for something he didn't know. Wiping her eyes again, Elizabeth just shook her head, unable to understand how he could justify fulfilling such a promise – as if he wanted to take away the only piece of her former life that she had left. On today of all days, it just didn't make sense. "Going to see him on Father's Day doesn't make him my father…" she sniffled, her body now shaking, "I don't want another Dad… or another Mom…" That's when it hit, the idea of someone taking his place, someone taking over his role. Up till then, it had only been a concept. Now he was putting flesh to the legend, a face to the name. He owed it to Elizabeth to do this, to let her know the truth and make the choice. She had to know that this wasn't what he wanted, to give her up. "I know that…" Paul whispered softly, "and no one is going to make you accept someone else as your mother or your father… this is just… it just needs to be done, you need to know him." "Why are we even doing this? Why now?" Elizabeth demanded, her emotions getting the better of her again "It's what your mother wanted…" Paul knew he didn't have to remind her, Maggie had made her wishes known well before she died. The truth about Elizabeth's paternity had been the last straw in the divorce, he had pleaded with her for years not to tell. "My mother has been dead for three years…" she said bitterly, "don't tell me what she wanted…" Exasperated, Paul brushed his hand over his forehead and took a deep breath, "please, honey, don't do this…" "Don't do what? Don't repeat what I was told?" she stammered. Getting no response, Elizabeth unhooked her safety belt and reached to open the car door, "you said it yourself that it wasn't worth it, when she tried to take me to him…" "I didn't mean…" Paul knew that he was partly to blame, that if he had let Maggie take her then – they wouldn't be facing this type of situation now. His foolish pride had gotten in the way, making him think all types of crazy things. Already confronted with losing his wife, the last thing he was going to do was lose his daughter. No longer listening to what he was saying, Elizabeth continued, "you said that you'd rather raise me yourself than…" "This is what your mother wanted, and it's up to me to make sure that it gets done…" Paul admitted painfully, "I promised her that I would help you…" "Why didn't you let her try and contact him before than?" Elizabeth angrily returned, a steady stream of tears sliding down her cheeks as she got out of the car, "why not then?" "I guess…I guess I don't know… when I came back, I…." Paul stopped himself there, not wanting to say something he might later regret. It was when he first came back, a year or so after Maggie's diagnosis that he learned she was going to take Elizabeth to meet her father. He told her he'd do everything in his power to prevent it, that he'd rather take his child away from her than let give his daughter to another man. There was no use in telling Elizabeth now, it would make no difference. In her mind, he was giving up the fight – he was giving her over to someone else. It wasn't fulfilling his wife's last request, but instead the last step in moving on with the rest of his life. Paul opened his door and got out, walking around the car to where she was. He knew it would be like this, that she'd one day resent him just as much if not more than she resented her mother. His heart was still heavy, and his eyes were damp as he approached her. "What difference does it make?" she asked him coolly, stepping away as he came closer. Though it would kill him, Paul knew what he had to say. He moved another step forward and raised his head, not bothering to wipe the tears as they fell. "Your mother wanted you to have your family…" he explained, his voice breaking "she didn't want you to have to be alone, not expecting me to stay…" "If she wanted me to have a family than she wouldn't have died…" Elizabeth wiped her eyes again, trying to regain her composure, "she just wouldn't have died…" "I know, sweetie, I know…" Paul took the reluctant girl into his arms and pulled her close, pressing his lips to the top of her head, "you better believe that if your mom was here, I'd make her sort this mess out herself because God knows I don't want to hurt you…" Difficult as it was to admit, Paul knew that to some extent, Elizabeth was right… about a lot of things. It wasn't her choice to be born as the result of an affair, or to be told the truth in her early adolescent years. She had spent her life living in the circumstances her parents had created; often a victim of their mistakes and the constant mistrust that they had with each other. None of this was her fault. It just wasn't fair. Today would be the beginning of a new life for them both, regardless of what her father said – he had promised her, his daughter, that. *~* *~* The road seemed endless. Each time he came back, the drive seemed a little longer. Though Anne had now been home for over six weeks, it felt as if only yesterday she was born. It was as if only yesterday his life had been turned upside down. Since Anne's birth, a lot had changed. He was no longer the man he once was, he had responsibilities and obligations – someone that depended on him, and needed him. It was a commitment, one at nearly 35 years old, he finally felt ready to make, regardless of his other mistakes. Driving gave him the time to think. The hospital wasn't far from his house, just under fifteen minutes in good traffic, but it was still a chance to be alone and reflect. That was just what he needed. Friday had been a disaster. Saturday hadn't been much better. Now, on Sunday, he realized just how bad it was. He hadn't been thinking at all. Anger forced him to act on impulse. It was a stupid choice, one that he didn't have to make. It was on days like that when he lamented ever having set foot in LSP, a time when he hated the job he'd chosen just as much as the man he became because of it. He just needed to think it out, to make it right… * What he had done, that evening could very well cost him everything – Nick knew that now. It all started with a very bad morning, leading into a night he'd only live to regret... The meeting with the board on Friday was at nine. He was met with failure by ten after, their funding had been denied. It took them that long to decide LSP's fate, he couldn't understand why. Jesse's mother called him at noon, to let him know that her son had been taken off life support and she'd soon be making the arrangements for his funeral, not that he would have a say. His guardianship ended when the plug was pulled, and now it was only a matter of time. At twelve forty-five he had a meeting with his father, one that Burton had asked for. He wanted to talk about the future of F&F. He felt as if his wounds had been re-opened, and now the salt was being poured in. His father talked as if he still was there, and it made him sick. The betrayal alone was hard to get past. Kate came by the office at three-thirty. The proposed merger with her clinic was off, she told him it was nothing personal but her decision was based on LSP's current financial standing and instability under a new director. She even had the nerve to suggest they try again later. To make matters worse, Anne had a fever that evening and was spitting up. Though Lulu didn't tell him not to come by, he just assumed there wasn't much point. It had happened before; it wasn't anything Lulu couldn't handle. All he asked was that she call if there was any change, then he would come right away. He didn't want to take out his bad day on his daughter, and he was in no mood to deal with whatever Lulu might throw his way. Earlier that week, she had mentioned counseling again, this time for Anne's benefit. Try as he may, he still wasn't convinced that talking to someone else would solve their problems. Her answer had been `no,' and there wasn't any therapist who could change that. He thought he was doing them both a favor by staying away that night. When he stopped for dinner at The Incline, Jake had been there. He was the last person he wanted to see. Talking about deals that had been made since his `departure' from F&F and the `best wedding Pittsburgh had ever seen.' He knew Jake was just saying it to agitate him, throwing it in his face that he now was living the `Fallin' life – it had gone to him, instead of its rightful heir. How he ended up at Grant Street Tavern that evening, he wasn't sure. When he ran into Walter McNeil, he couldn't remember. God knows he, Nick Fallin the alcoholic, shouldn't have been there. God knows she shouldn't have been there either. But they were. It was a mistake that shouldn't have happened. It was just that type of day. Perhaps he should've learned his lesson five months before. Maybe he didn't – there wasn't much incentive for finding the right path. All he was left with the next morning was a feeling of emptiness and guilt, and a note to call Walter at home to arrange for a meeting sometime soon. The hangover alone was difficult. He hadn't been that miserable for quite a while. Those days of a fast life were gone. Even after his most recent binge, it wasn't quite like this. Th next morning, Saturday, when he got to Lulu's, it hit him. Hard. As soon as he got in the door, she told him what Anne's doctor had said the night before, to come in if the fever didn't break. She had just spoken to him again. With a fever of 101.1, she wasn't getting any better. They were going to take her in. He knew that he was in no condition to go, but he had to. She'd be more worried about the baby than the state she found him in, of that he was certain. Sitting there, in the chair across from her in the hospital waiting room, all he felt was guilt. He didn't expect to feel that bad, he didn't think it mattered. He tried to rationalize that there was no formal commitment, they weren't really together. Point blank – she told him `no.' It reminded him of that day, the day of his father's surgery, yet somehow it was worse. For the first couple of hours, silence was all that they had. LSP, Kate, the board… none of that came up. She didn't ask how it went; he certainly didn't want to tell her. He knew it would be just another disappointment in her eyes. He didn't want to face that, not now. He could barely look at her. He worried; each time his eyes did meet hers, that she might see the truth. It wasn't until later, once Anne was back in her mother's arms and waiting to be discharged (the fever now broken, thanks to a cool bath and added patience on the part of the doctors) that Lulu asked him how he spent the previous evening, his first official night off from `daddy duty.' To say that he was at the office late was only partly true. It was where he went afterward that would get him in trouble. Once they got back home, to her place, he took a moment to remind himself that they weren't together. She told him `no'. It didn't make him feel any better. Not at all. Anne dozed on and off for a better part of the late afternoon/early evening, usually waking just long enough to nurse and spit up again. He tried to keep to himself, bringing in a stack of paperwork from his car for distraction. Lulu offered to help, but he didn't want her to. They talked about Anne, and the further tests the doctor wanted to run. The worst of the news had been dealt to them the week before; this was just another minor blow. That's when he remembered Lulu would be back at the office on Monday. He then felt worse; he knew there'd be problems. About 8:30, Lulu brought up the subject of dinner. She was willing to cook, if he was interested. He told her no, that he should get going. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew better. Though he tried to fight it, guilt was getting the better of him. Against his better instinct, he stayed until Anne's next feeding. Lulu backed off, she hardly spoke -- not that he would've said much in return. He held the baby while Lulu ate, his own stomach far too knotted to keep anything down. He didn't speak, almost afraid of what might come out. As he went to leave, he kissed his daughter goodnight, as he usually did. Lulu tried to say something, but he turned away before she was finished. He left, he didn't trust himself. Ashamed – maybe that's what he was. It wasn't until he went home that night that he realized the potential consequences of what he had done, if she were to find out. He knew that honesty was important to her, but not at that price. He didn't want to risk whatever balance they may have achieved, he didn't want to risk Anne. A mistake. That's all it was – but no judge would hear that as a valid reason, especially coming from a man like him. He was now a man of responsibilities and obligations, his daughter depended on him. Hell, Lulu did too. That night, he couldn't sleep. It ate away at him. All those nights he had spent staring up at the ceiling, lying there awake next to her… like that, but now he was alone. He didn't even have her there to go home to this time, so he could pretend nothing was wrong each time she asked. Distraught, he reminded himself, yet again, that they weren't together. She had, in fact, told him `no.' It didn't help him sleep. Nothing did, his mind wouldn't let him rest… * This morning, when the phone rang, he was sure it was her, calling to cancel the Sunday dinner. While he'd still see Anne, he thought Lulu might not come because of how he had acted the night before. She hadn't done that yet, but he thought it was possible. He knew the night before that he had a chance, a good one, and he blew it. Admittedly, he thought it might be better if she didn't come that afternoon. Even now, he still wasn't sure that he could face her. While he wouldn't ask her flat out not to come, he hoped in the back of his mind, that she wouldn't – at least not until he figured this out, at least not until he knew what to do…how to cover his tracks. But, there was still time. He didn't like what he felt, he wanted it to stop. Only then did it cross his mind that she probably expected this from him, that she was waiting for him to fuck up again. For all he had done, trying to prove her wrong – now she was right. He hated that. Why did it matter to him what she thought? After all, she was the one who told him `no.' As he pulled into the hospital parking lot, Nick resolved not to think about it anymore. He'd have to see her soon enough. He knew better than to tell her, any of it, there was simply no way she'd understand. It was just one mistake, his first since… No. He wasn't going to think about it anymore. Someone else needed him; someone else depended on him now. Getting out of his car, he sounded the alarm and slowly walked toward the entryway. Deep down, he knew if he had done something differently, Violet wouldn't be in this predicament. No child deserved this. He should've fought harder, he should've focused more. He should've kept Violet away from her mother, the task that had been assigned to Alvin before he died. Even if Lulu was still the director, he wouldn't tell her about this. She wouldn't understand how badly he felt. This time it was on him. He was angry she thought he belonged in this job. He hated Alvin even more for putting him in this position. This was the reason he was beginning to second guess his decision to take over LSP. The hospital was unusually quiet as he made his way up to the pediatric ward. He got to the reception desk and waited, impatiently. He really couldn't remember when visitation hours started, as they were different so far as parents of a newborn were concerned. "Yes?" a blonde-haired nurse looked up from the stack of paperwork spilled out before her. "I'm here to see Violet…" Nick's eyes moved around the room, completely uncomfortable in his surroundings. The nurse hesitated a minute, "are you family?" Shaking his head, Nick dutifully reached for his wallet and pulled out a business card for the nurse, "no, I'm the court-appointed guardian. Nick Fallin, from Legal Services of Pittsburgh…" "Keep it short, can't have many visitors in there…" she returned flatly. The nurse glanced over his card and paper clipped it to Violet's file. She turned back to the small box before her and retrieved a guest pass, handing it to Nick, "like I said, you're going to have to keep it short…" "Thank you…" Nick took the pass from her and walked away, trying not to put much thought into her less-than-pleasant demeanor. After all, she was only doing her job. He rationalized that had he been doing the job that he was assigned, Violet wouldn't be there now. As of late, the hospital had become a regular stop for him. Between Anne and his father, he certainly didn't have a shortage of visits. Even now, all these years later, he still felt uncomfortable. The time he spent there, as his mother was dying, seemed to be the only memory he retained. Nausea passed over him each time he entered. He was sure it was something that no one else would understand. There it was. Her room – number 327 in the children's corridor. Since the accident, or what he had referred to as such, he had been there just twice. It was too hard on him, worse than he expected. He didn't want to see her that way; he blamed himself for her condition. If what happened to Jesse was bad, this was 10 xs worse. No child deserved to be treated this way. At least Jesse had reached a point where he was no longer aware of his suffering. Perhaps Anne's arrival had made him more aware, had made him feel more. As he approached the door, Nick's heart grew heavy. It was on this case alone, the one that was supposed to be one of his last, that he thought to base his future at LSP. Taking a deep breath, Nick knocked. Though it was only partially closed, he thought he had no business intruding. "Hello?" a small voice called from inside. With his fingers clutched tightly around the brown paper bag he was carrying, Nick entered the room, "hi, Violet…" The chair, where he decided to sit, was across the room. There was no feasible way for him to shield his eyes, to block out the hurt and the pain that he'd witness sitting beside her. "You came…" Violet looked at him and smiled, difficult as it was for her to do. "I did." Nick hesitantly smiled and pulled a nearby chair around to her bedside. He sat down and placed the small brown bag in his lap, waiting. In his mind, the little girl owed him nothing. It was her that he let down. Nick was quiet, taking it all in. Even with the days Anne spent in the hospital following her birth, he felt no more acquainted with all of the equipment or the sterile scent. The hospital, like many other factors in life, triggered those memories – bad ones. To stop thinking would be impossible, Nick knew that. Each time Violet moved or shifted, a tiny alarm seemed to go off inside of him. He thought of his mother, mainly, and the days she spent locked up in a tiny cell that the hospital passed off as some type of `suite.' There was nothing comforting about the atmosphere, from what little Nick could bring himself to remember, and in the back of his mind he knew she was just waiting to die. He had grown to hate the hospital, with the little rooms and winding halls. With all the trips there, to see the various specialists and professionals who could do nothing, it certainly jaded his view of medicine. The idea of Violet having such a bleak future terrified him, and Nick knew that it was his responsibility to give the little girl the type of life that she deserved. He had already failed her once, and he swore to God that it wouldn't happen again. When, not if, she came out of that hospital, it would be with a new family – that was the promise he wanted to make to her. Nick couldn't say it, though, because he knew there were no guarantees. Her past was already troublesome enough when it came to a placement, but now there was this – a new trauma to be factored. There wasn't exactly a good market for children that society has deemed as `damaged goods.' "Where's your baby?" Violet asked softly, appearing as a mere shadow of her normally vibrant self. Her eyes were at a weary half mast, her hair pulled back into a messy braid. There were several bruises on her face, her cheeks still swollen from the blows she had received there. Oxygen flowed into her nose, her own breathing partially restored after the respirator had been taken off. The stitches in her lip were small, barely noticeable if you didn't know what had happened. Mercifully distracted from his thoughts, Nick turned to her. He quickly wiped his eyes, unaware if she noticed his tears or not, "I get to see her later…" "Oh," Violet breathed roughly, stopping herself to cough, "is she with her Mommy?" "I brought picture today, of her…" Nick announced proudly, trying to strike up a small conversation. It wasn't that Violet made him feel uncomfortable, not in the least, but her situation did – especially since he felt it could've been prevented. "You did?" Violet looked up at him, almost incredulous. It was usually her job to come up with the pictures. They were usually of the crayon and paper variety. "Yes…" Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. It was his new act of pride, to be able to show off his child. Years ago, this was never something he'd imagine himself doing – being one of those fathers who couldn't resist showing off a picture of his child and bragging to anyone who might listen. In his mind, Anne had changed that; with all the medical challenges she faced, it was a miracle she was even alive. Of course he was going to show her off... Clients at the clinic saw her picture on his desk, visitors at home found a few pictures as well. Lulu's home and his father's were much the same, Anne was everywhere. Luckily for him and Lulu, they found themselves with a photogenic child who never seemed to mind all the attention she received and appeared to be a natural in front of the camera. Go figure. Nick knew that was a trait she surely inherited from her mother (though Lulu insisted otherwise, her smile told a different story), as he himself had always been rather camera shy. Not long after Anne had been home, Burton told him that if his mother was still alive, she'd be worse than all of them when it came to taking pictures – he could easily envision her with that baby and a camera as her constant companions. Nick liked the thought, painful as it was. Burton also said that since she wasn't there, he was more than willing to be doting enough for the both of them and assume all photo taking responsibilities. And that's just what he had done. The picture inside his wallet had quickly become one of his favorites, a brief moment of happiness. It was taken at one of his father's Sunday dinners a few weeks before. As usual, he was needlessly apprehensive about the occasion. But, the tension seemed to ease through dinner and they, he and Lulu, both found themselves outside in the yard after dessert. Leave it to Burton to use the brief interlude as time to find a camera. Though he'd never admit it, Nick really did appreciate his father's gesture. Even now, a few weeks later, he was hard pressed to remember what it was that Lulu said in that moment that made him smile. He was holding Anne, asleep, with her tiny belly full and a fresh diaper. Neither one of them saw Burton coming, as they surely would've objected if they did. After all, they made their careers on objections and arguments. Lulu, because she didn't think she was fit to be seen in front of the camera yet – still feeling a bit swollen and awkward, though in his mind, maternity had changed her for the better. It seemed to have softened a lot more than her physical edges. He had decided, long before, that if given the opportunity to see her, he surely wouldn't complain about what was before him. And himself, just because pictures, especially of the family, weren't really his thing. Any hesitation he felt about the dinner seemed to be gone in that moment that the film captured – it seemed as if the world had in fact stopped, and they were in fact the center of the universe. Standing there, together, in the oversized and well-manicured yard, it seemed just that way. Close as she was to him, Nick could've sworn he felt her against his skin. He relished that feeling. The look in her dark eyes indicated that she shared the sentiment. It was seconds later, as he glanced down at their sleeping daughter that she said whatever it was that she did. Nothing sarcastic or ill-timed, not even something that he might misconstrue as something more, but something genuine – it really made him feel good. Apparently, he was so caught up in the moment that the words now eluded him. The image, however, did not. Snap. His father, Mr. Kodak himself, got his shot. There they were. Just the three of them. She said what she did and he smiled, his gaze cast down over their child. Her eyes were locked upon the two of them, him with their child securely in his arms. Her own smile was the most radiant he had seen in a long time. It wasn't the first time he had been on the receiving end of `that look' from her, it made its premiere just a couple of days after Anne was born – the first time Lulu saw him holding her. `That look' alone made him feel good. As if, somehow, there was still hope. Now, `that look' was captured on film and he wouldn't trade it for anything. He'd come to the conclusion that if they could stay in that moment forever, he'd die a satisfied man. There it was, on paper, proof that they could be happy together – if only for a moment at a time. Though it scared him immensely to admit it, the dinners seemed to be working well. The scene of the picture itself was a sign of progress, something he never thought they'd have. She was making an effort, that he could see. In the back of his mind, he wondered what had changed – it was something he didn't dare to ask. He took the moments, the dinners, and their nightly exchanges for what they were worth. Definite progress was being made, and seemingly in the right direction. Yet, he was still apprehensive, dreading the moment when the proverbial bough would break and his life would change yet again. Without further thought, Nick handed the picture, reduced to wallet size, to Violet for her inspection. "Is you a family?" she asked quietly as her tired eyes scanned over the colored image. Violet recognized the woman, but couldn't think of her name. She remembered her being at the office, there with Nick. The connection was made. "Sometimes I think so…" Nick replied with a twinge of melancholy, though he knew deep down that marriage wasn't always what made a family work – that trust also played heavily into its ability to function and thrive. Trust was something he regretfully acknowledged they didn't have much, if any, of. "Baby is little…" Violet commented as she traced over Anne's tiny form with her right index finger. "Yes, she is…" Nick took a quick glimpse at the picture and smiled, almost relieved that Violet seemed oblivious to the so-called defects in his child. If all she'd say was that Anne was little, he certainly wasn't going to argue or get defensive – they had at least influenced that much of her genes. Knowing he didn't have much time, Nick put the picture back inside of his wallet, trying not to think. He'd have his time with Anne later. Painful as it was, Violet smiled again, "cute too." Trying not to grimace as his eyes moved along all of the tubes and wires connected to her small body, he turned back to Violet, "how are you feeling today?" As if she were about to share a secret, Violet motioned him to come closer, which he did. Her whisper was slow and breathy, "I don't like this place…" "I don't either…" Nick forced himself to smile, he didn't dare make her any promises he couldn't keep about when she'd be out, or the type of family he'd like her to go home to. Violet's case had proved to him that some matters were just beyond his control. Even so, seeing her now, looking so small and defeated, Nick truly felt as if he had let her down, that the system had failed her. His mind was working, as it usually did, trying to think of the next best solution. But for Violet, there was no `next best.' She deserved a good family, a safe home, parents who loved her and could offer her a good life. Was that so much to ask? He was against her returning to her mother, but the judge was dead-set upon the promises of rehabilitation. Maybe it was her mistake instead of his. He fought the `good' fight as Alvin had called it, he made his argument in her best interests. It wasn't his fault that his words fell on dead ears, but it didn't change his guilt. As an addict, he could attest to the fact that rehabilitation didn't work for everyone – he and Violet's mother were no exceptions. Backslides happened all the time, the slightest change could set an addict off…all they needed was an excuse. It wasn't the actions of Violet's mother that put her in the hospital so much as those of the company she kept. Nick knew that. He also knew that it was his duty to make sure situations like this didn't happen, that the best interests of the child were met. He wanted to believe that her mother had changed, that this time she'd take care of the beautiful, healthy child that she was lucky enough to have – he wanted to put his faith in the system and make a difference in at least this child's life. That was the type of motivation he needed to stay with LSP. He failed. Per norm, words escaped him. Each time Violet looked up at him, he knew she was waiting for him to speak. Her big eyes followed him – he'd almost swear they could see inside of him. Nick didn't know what to say, how to make her feel better or apologize for what went wrong. Guilt plagued him. Reassurance was small and comfort even less. At least on the outside, she seemed better. Without warning, there was a brief knock at the door. A older, blonde nurse in pale pink scrubs entered the room, "Mr. Fallin…" "I'll be right there…" Nick looked quickly over his shoulder, acknowledging the woman. When Anne was in the hospital, he was continual thankful that there had been no intruders or interruptions, the nurses and doctors had let he and Lulu come and go as the pleased, knowing how important it was for them to be with Anne. His mind wandered back to the first days after Anne's birth… * That final night, that Friday six weeks before, after Lulu had been released from the hospital and the doctors wanted to keep Anne for observation, he saw a side of Lulu he never experienced before. He truly thought it would kill her to leave their child behind in her tiny isolette. It was hard for him to go home each night, alone, but it wasn't like this. He took Lulu home for a few hours that Friday afternoon, to shower and change. He tried to go to the clinic, get a few things done around the office while Lulu took a nap; but he ended up going back there, to her place, relieved to see that she didn't mind the company. That evening, they went back to the hospital and spent the rest of the night together with their daughter. Not much was said between them, most if not all of their attention was given to Anne. They took turns holding her, with Nick handing her off every couple of hours to be fed. Neither one dared to get up and go for more than a minute or two, if only just to stretch. Those hours were priceless, and had come to an end all too quick. If Anne had been in a room, instead of the nursery, they both could've stayed – but her ever fluctuating heart rate led the doctors to place her under supervision. They were told that if the night went well, they could bring her home the next day. For Lulu, it wasn't assuring enough. He tried to make himself understand what it must be like. Cry she did, Lulu even deemed herself to be an emotional wreck. It wasn't like her at all to display so much, especially in front of him. Although her emotions normally came as a trickle, this was a deluge. At the time, he found himself ill-prepared. If he had been near devastation with what she said in regards to marriage at the hospital the day before, that final evening `alone' left him more confused than anything else. He stayed with her, that night, at her place. He offered to call her mother, if she felt uncomfortable with him, but she said not to. She seemed to actually need him, and want him there. No more flinching, no more distance… only bits of hesitation, as if she didn't think he'd want to do this for her. He didn't know how to react; it wasn't at all what he expected. It was then that they spoke about specialists and nannies, over the light dinner that Nick had picked up for them – both starving and sick of the regular hospital fare. It was then that Lulu suggested he spend the evenings at her place with Anne, or that she could drop her off, and on the weekends he could keep her for the day, if he'd like. It was then that his curiosity led him to ask just how this would work, as she was nursing their daughter. In the back of his mind, he hoped it meant he'd still get time with her as well, he thought he wanted that. She, feeling a little better, made the joke that you don't have to take the entire cow, just the milk, prompting them both to laugh. It was something they hadn't done together in quite a while. She mentioned that for the first few days, it might be a bit awkward as Anne set her schedule, but he'd be welcome in her home. It was agreed that for now, nights would be spent with her, for feeding purposes and because Nick had to work. Maybe it was a bit selfish for him to wonder if some of his nights would be spent with her as well. It was then that he asked about Sunday dinners, preparing himself for her imminent refusal. She was quiet for a minute, little did he know – Burton had already asked. Much to his surprise, she accepted. The time was already set for that Sunday, Mother's Day. She warned him that Caroline had threatened to come for a visit, and Burton encouraged her to bring Mom along. It was then that he asked her to do this, the Sunday dinner, if not for him – for Anne and his own father. She agreed. For the first time in a long time, she seemed to understand him, how much everything meant. With the suggestions made that night, he was given a generous amount of time with Anne, more than he honestly expected. There was no fighting between them, perhaps just a bit of uneasiness and not knowing where to begin. That was their informal custody agreement; it was joint custody, with Lulu having primary physical custody (as mother's usually do), which was finalized later in paper form as a tangible sign of trust – something they both had to see to believe in. Though he thought he'd prefer to be with them all the time, it was an arrangement he could live with. The issue of their own trust fund wasn't discussed, though Nick had earlier conceded to allowing Lulu to make some contribution. He knew it wasn't the amount that mattered, but the act itself. She was still in charge, and that he wouldn't argue… there was no reason. However, he decided then that if something were to change between them, if they somehow ended up on the same page, then he'd expect differently. But for now, it was still just a matter of trust – some thing they both had to work on. It was then that Lulu mentioned her mother and Jerry had also put money into another account for Anne. He sensed, from how Lulu was speaking, that it had been Jerry's idea. He had come to Pittsburgh, without Caroline, to see Lulu and Anne – and seemed to be just as proud as his own father had been to see his granddaughter. Jerry had spent a rather long time speaking with Lulu, and Nick didn't think to question what was being discussed, his answer would come with time. They spoke about the house, the one on Amberson Place, and what was left to be done before Lulu and Anne could move in. There was still much to be decided about what went inside, and Lulu seemed to want far more input from him than he was prepared to give. It seemed, for the moment, she wanted him there as well. In retrospect, what she said at the hospital, about not wanting his name, no longer made sense. That night, she mentioned Anne's name, suggesting that `Anne Archer-Fallin' had a nice ring to it, now that she had a chance to think about it. She didn't say anything about their own status, and he didn't want her to. What she said about things not working, no longer seemed right either. Something was right, in his mind, they were there… together. Confusion was the only sentiment he was clear about at the time. He decided not to invest too much in what was being said, fearful it would again change. There was no lack of feeling between them, if anything – they both felt better, this was something new for them. They were actually talking…well; she did most of the talking, but they were quite possibly on the verge of communication. That was the first night Lulu had been ready to talk, and he was eager to listen. Work, as usual, was a staple of their discussion. Nick told her about his decision to take over LSP, but only on a `very' temporary basis. She felt the need to explain herself, and her decision to return to work part-time. She apologized, something he didn't expect, for how he found out – from Alvin instead of her. Instead of relishing in the moment, he chose to just say he was glad that she made the choice that she did. Her decision had nothing to do with him being in charge, but instead everything to do with being with their daughter. Knowing LSP was shorthanded, she offered to come back after six weeks, as scheduled – so long as Anne was in good health and they found a nanny by then. He agreed, knowing full well that they needed her there. He didn't want her to go back, preferring her to stay at home, but he wouldn't argue as it was her choice. It was, after all, her decision to make. When LSP's situation changed, they'd both be free to explore other possibilities. He took it upon himself to suggest that perhaps then she could just stay at home with Anne for a while longer, she said it was something to be considered. Their lives, for the time being, seemed to be pretty well planned. Anne was really all that mattered. It was a late night for them, neither one had realized how quickly the time went by. It was just after two in the morning when he offered to help her up to bed. She grimaced at the thought of climbing the stairs, but did it without complaint. He would've carried her, if she'd have let him… or even asked. She dressed for bed on her own, but he was sure he heard her wince when it came to changing her bandage. He pulled back the bedding and helped her in, just as he had seen the nurses do at the hospital. She thanked him for what he had done. For the moment, he wasn't sure just what it was that she was referring to. The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice told him she was sincere. Something prompted him to sit down beside her, barring any objections he might get. He sat there for a few moments, quietly, just looking at her. Her face was no longer swollen, her complexion returned. The pain seemed to be diminished, her painkillers reduced to the over the counter variety that the doctor recommended he pick up for her. Her shape reminded him of early in pregnancy, just a bit thicker around the middle – an area that, after the affair, he didn't get to see much of apart from her doctor's appointments. He hadn't seen the incision, and he wasn't going to ask, assuming she'd show him, if and when she was ready. The baggy pajamas were more for comfort than necessity. He was sure she'd be back to herself in no time, not that he minded the change. Feeling a bit daring, he stroked her hand lightly with his fingertips. In the hospital, it prompted the slightest flinch. Now, she seemed relaxed, very much at ease. She knew he was there, she saw him. There was a soft smile on her lips, and it wasn't the one she sometimes gave just to appease him, to fill his need. He knew this smile, this he trusted. He continued stroking her hand as she fell asleep. The simple gesture in itself was comforting for him, just knowing she let him be that close. While he would've given anything to be able to lie down beside her, staying there all night, he convinced himself that he was satisfied. Once her eyes closed and her breathing deepened, he leaned carefully in and kissed her brow. That too had sparked a bit of a flinch in the hospital, and only later did he learn that certain painkillers cause increased sensitivity, irritability and fatigue. Maybe he'd try again, but he wasn't sure when he'd get up the nerve. After a while, his own wariness began to take over. He forced himself to get up on his feet. Instinct led him to kiss her again, and just as before – there was no adverse reaction. He didn't close the door entirely, just enough to block most of the light in the hall. He made his way downstairs, to the couch. He was almost certain he wouldn't sleep. But he did. His mind and his heart were left somewhere upstairs. He wanted it that way. It was a good chance to disconnect. Morning came quickly. By the time he got up, Lulu was already in the kitchen. Her hair was up and she was dressed in a loose white linen tank and black linen pants. He knew that comfort was most likely her intent, but he thought he looked great for having just delivered a baby. Her smile was endearing, but still a bit uneasy. He feared, for a moment, she might say something about the night before, how he acted, how he touched her – but she didn't. He worried she might have changed her mind, about the custody or other arrangements they made, but she didn't. It made him think of her first days in his house, really living there – not just staying the night. There was a certain awkwardness, but no real discomfort. He didn't expect her to make him breakfast, since he usually didn't eat, but his coffee was ready and his bagel already in the toaster. He thought she might leave the kitchen, as he ate, but she didn't. He thought she might be distant, but she wasn't. He didn't know why she was acting like this. As he thought before, it didn't seem as if she minded the company. He didn't know what to make of it. It was like the first days together at his house, but different. They had a mutual need for each other this time that went far beyond the bedroom. Up since six, she had already called twice for an update on Anne. She seemed to be doing fine, and the nurse told her to take her time getting back to the hospital – their little girl was catching up on some much needed sleep. The doctor wouldn't be in till later any way, and she knew that Lulu and he could probably use a bit of rest themselves. Nick was relieved at the news, but even more so by the easiness he and Lulu seemed to have between them. The last thing he wanted to do was question how long this easiness would last. Doubt still plagued them both. Something had changed in her, he wasn't sure when or where, but something did. It seemed to be sometime between when she refused his name but then named their child after his mother. The baby took her mother's name, but it was Lulu herself on that very day that said a change could be made. It was that day that he saw her holding their baby for the first time, affirming what he already knew – that she was the one. It was on that same day that she so lovingly handed him their child for the first time, and looked at him `that way'. God was he confused, but he fully intended to bask in the warmth of her reception for as long as it would last. As they were leaving for the hospital, Lulu insisted they take her car as there was a stop she had to make. Unable to drive herself yet, she suggested that he enjoy the weather and put the top down as it was the last trip in the Sebring. During one of their last dinners before Anne's early arrival, he'd brought up the subject of her car. While he couldn't quite sell her yet on an SUV, she informed him that she was ready to trade her beloved convertible in for a `family' car. He offered to help out financially, expecting her to refuse just as she did. They reached a compromise, one of their first, and he took care of the details as the manager of the local BMW dealership was a client of his over at F&F. Though he'd have preferred to buy one brand new, she conceded on a pre-owned that was just a couple payments short of being an equal trade. He sold her on the safety features, but the clincher was the economic factor. Of course, before she had a chance to argue, he took care of those last few payments. He had hoped she wouldn't find out, but she did – and instead of being angry, as he assumed she might be, Lulu thanked him. It wasn't until a week or so later that she brought up the issue of repayment, and while he insisted it wasn't necessary, she thought that it was. In Nick's mind, `little things' seemed to be bringing he and Lulu closer together, he wasn't completely sure he wanted them to. Maybe Anne's arrival had been a catalyst for some type of change. They were forcing themselves no longer, taking life as it came. For now – whatever it was they had, it finally seemed to be working, or so he believed. The paper work was already settled, all she had to do when they arrived at the dealership that Saturday morning was sign the contract and turn in her keys. He took it upon himself to unpack the baby's car seat from its box and put it into the new car while Lulu asked her final questions. He felt she made a good choice, and told her so as they drove off the lot. He could tell she was bit uncomfortable, and asked her how she felt. She told him she'd be better once she got to see their little girl – and even moreso when she got to come home. That was a relief for him, he wasn't the problem this time. Once they arrived at the hospital, that's when his memory began to blur. It all seemed very surreal. Anne had been waiting for them, up just a few minutes when they walked in the door. The nurse said she was hungry, and though they had a few bottles that Lulu provided, they preferred Mom to do it so Anne could start to adjust. He remembered sitting close by, reaching out to stroke his daughter's soft cheek as she suckled, occasionally glancing up at Lulu to make sure this was okay. The doctor came and went, the nurses checked in, the specialist stopped by, but it was all about them. For the first time in a long time, it was about them… not what happened between them, or how either one of them screwed up. It was about them being a family, a concept he had only dared himself to think about… * That was one of his better memories from a hospital, being there that morning with Lulu and their daughter – that was what he wanted to think about, not all the bad – not the days he spent there with his dying mother, not the days after the accident with Lulu, not the days of uncertainty following Anne's birth. Even now, with Violet, he didn't really want to be there. Nick had to convince himself to come because he wanted to, because it was right… not because it was part of his job, a position that he still did not want to assume. Despite Alvin's pleas and Lulu's very unsubtle hints, Nick still wasn't convinced that this was the life for him. Money didn't enter the equation; it was a question of his own best interests. Somehow, he couldn't see himself staying in this job forever. It just didn't fit. "You gotta go now?" Violet asked quietly, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. Without looking up, Nick nodded, "I'll be back again soon…" "Bye…" she softly whispered, reaching out her hand to his clean shaven cheek. Feeling her gentle touch, Nick glanced toward her. He couldn't understand her warmth, the way she gravitated towards him – in spite of what happened, in spite of him letting her down. He attributed her behavior to naivety, assuming that she knew no better than to accept the only help she might get. He couldn't help but feel guilty, and rather unworthy of the trust she bestowed upon him. Nick forced himself to smile, "I promise I'll do what I can, to try and get you out of here… soon…" Already tired, Violet just looked at him, her eyes casting a rather incredulous glare. "I'm going to get you out of here, I mean that…" Nick waited a moment, as if he needed a moment to convince himself, "I mean it, Violet… I'm going to make sure you get the best family there is." "But… but…" Violet shook her head and took a difficult breath, "you said Alvin would do that…" "I know, I know…" Nick looked toward the door, knowing that her nurse would be out there waiting for his departure. He hadn't intended to stay as long as he did; he wanted to just drop in to say hello and leave. His morning was full, he still had a meeting with McNeil and a trip to the market before Anne arrived. The meeting was last minute, organized by McNeil after an impromptu run- in Friday night at the Grant Street Tavern. Nick didn't have it in him to say `no'. Maybe it was his pride getting the better of him. He knew he needed the job as much as Walter had claimed the firm needed him. If he could work his way back in, it would be nothing short of a miracle. The money would be nice, he knew that. So would the prestige. After all, it wasn't his father's firm, but a place where he could make a name for himself – that's what appealed to him the most. The trip to the market was a necessity, not by his own accord of course. With Sunday dinners now standard, flowers for the table were a staple. Somehow, the chore was delegated to him. For the first dinner, he chose a large bouquet of his mother's favorite flowers, hyacinths and orchids. Each subsequent week, he followed suite. It was just easier that way; he was never one for `hearts and flowers.' Burton had since added his own two cents, suggesting Nick buy flowers to cater to Lulu's tastes instead if his mothers, since she was no longer there to enjoy them. He was still pondering his father's suggestion – taking it with a grain of salt. He refused to believe that Burton was truly as naïve to his and Lulu's situation as he pretended to be. Turning his wrist, Nick caught a glimpse of the time. It wasn't until Anne was born that Nick learned a good lesson in punctuality, how he needed to be on time when someone else was depending on him. No more excuses. But, Violet had a way with him – she always did. As he got up to leave, Nick remembered the bag he had brought in for her. He opened it and handed her the small, bright box, "these are for you…" Carefully opening the familiar green and yellow box, Violet immediately recognized its contents, "new colors?" "And paper…" Nick placed the thick, colorful ream on her bedside table, only then realizing the inappropriateness of his gift as he saw the plastered arm she kept well-hidden under the sheet. He knew, deep down, that it was the thought of the gift that mattered most… but still, he felt he should've been more considerate to her needs. He knew her injuries and he should've kept them in mind. With a pained smile, Violet glanced up at him, "but I can't use `em yet…" "Soon." Nick shoved his hands deeply into the pockets of his khaki pants, his gaze focused downward, "bye, Violet…" "Dr. Miller would like to speak to you…" the blonde nurse gently touched Nick's arm, to get his attention, and pointed him towards the reception area, where a man in a lab coat and Elmo covered scrubs was waiting. Despite any personal reservations he might have, Nick walked over. From the way the doctor was looking over the file, he knew the news wouldn't be good. Extending his hand, Nick forced himself to look up, "Dr. Miller…" "Mr. Fallin…" Dr. Miller glanced down and shook his hand, his gaze quickly averted to the file that he was holding. "How is she?" Nick knew better than to ask. Dr. Miller closed the file, and bit down nervously on his lip, "you and I both know that bruises and bones can heal, but other damage goes well beyond the body…" "Right." Nick swallowed hard, those weren't t he words of reassurance that he had been hoping for. "She could be out by the end of the week, but that's being optimistic. Without a placement for her…" Dr. Miller was hesitant to continue, "without a family for her to go back to, someone to care for her, it's really hard to say how her recovery will go." To find a family to take her in, especially in this condition, was asking a lot. While Laurie and Suzanne were certainly good at what they did, Nick wouldn't expect a miracle. "I know…" he returned, sounding rather defeated. "Will you be handling her case still?" Dr. Miller asked flatly. "I, uh… well…" Nick didn't know what to tell him. He didn't know what to tell himself about his future. A wave of negativity hit him, and he better thought his reply, "I should probably get someone else on…" Dr. Miller glanced up at him, almost in disbelief, "oh…" "As well…" Nick corrected, instantly feeling bad for wanting to pass off his mistake onto someone else. He got her into this situation, and he owed it to Violet to get her out. The doctor offered what seemed to be a very forced smile, "accidents happen, Mr. Fallin, I know you were looking out for her best interests." "Right." Nick looked downward, unconvinced that he had made the decision in Violet's best interests. If he had done that, she wouldn't be there now. "I'll keep you updated." Dr. Miller reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out two business cards, handing them to Nick. "For you and who ever takes the case." "I appreciate it." Nick glanced quickly at the card and clutched it in his hand, turning to go. He still didn't know if he'd pass the case off or not. That he would decide later. As he walked toward the elevator, he felt no better than he had coming in. While it was good to see Violet on the mend, he knew that he was partly responsible for her condition. The thought of being so wrong unnerved him. If this was the future a career at LSP might hold, it wasn't an idea he was quick to embrace. Working at F&F, a financial loss for a client was one thing, but a human loss at LSP was simply unfathomable. It was times like this when he felt that maybe he'd be better off in the business world. Maybe a meeting with Walter would be able to convince him. At this point, it wouldn't take much. ~*~ In retrospect, the past year and a half hadn't been great. Career wise, he head never been better, but personally he was a wreck. Her accident. The divorce. His mother's illness. Her baby. His mother's death. And now this mess at Presbyterian. Of course he knew better than to get involved with a co-worker, especially at a hospital where he might want to stay. It was a mistake, plain and simple. If he stayed to get another promotion, he'd be her superior. He knew there'd be trouble. It wasn't as if she was trying to make problems, but he just assume avoid any possibility. Experience had taught him not to trust anyone more than himself. The job offer had been the only good news to come his way in quite a while. It wasn't until after he went back there that he decided to take it, feeling confident that it was the right choice. His friends in Columbus were gone, he owed it to no one to stay. In a profession such as his, it was all about doing your work, doing it well, and moving up. That's just what he was doing, it was nothing personal. As he removed the contents from his locker, Brian wasn't sure what to think. In a matter of hours, his life would change yet again. Maybe he wasn't ready. * A tall, thin young woman in green scrubs and a lab coat, with the name Dr. Gerwin embroidered on the breast, approached the receptionist desk, "Hey Leta, is Olsen in?" "He's in the break room, Jamie…" Leta, the older black nurse, looked up from the magazine she was perusing, "you know he's leaving, don't you?" The woman ran her hand though her short blonde hair, "that's what I've heard…" "You missed the party we had for him last night, he nearly did too when he got called in for an emergency nephrectomy…" Leta smiled, oblivious to the woman's unease at the news, "I'm gonna miss him round here…" "I'm sure you will…" Jamie swallowed hard, and looked toward the break room. Leta closed her magazine and got up from the desk, "I think he's still packing up, if you want to catch him before he goes…" "Thanks," she said quietly. Jamie glanced down at her watch, knowing she had plenty of time before her shift began. * His locker was nearly empty; there wasn't much in there to begin with. Somehow, he just didn't feel like it was a permanent fit. He liked his job, his co-workers were great, but there was still something missing. There he was, standing there in front of his locker, packing. His pale blue surgical scrubs, a lab coat. He looked no different than she usually saw him, certainly not like the man on the verge of changing his life yet again. Jamie opened the door, and walked toward him, "Brian, I just heard this is your last shift?" "Yeah, I'm going back East…" Brian bit down on his lower lip, caught off guard. He dropped his running shoes into the small cardboard file box and backed up against the row of lockers, waiting. Yes, he planned to tell her. He didn't want her to just find out. Time wasn't working in his favor, it usually didn't. They kept opposite schedules as of late, he honestly hadn't seen her. Once the sex stopped, there wasn't much left between them. "Just like that? Things don't go…" Jamie stopped herself there, part of her wanting to cry and the other part ready to swing at him. A relationship wasn't what either one of them wanted. It was sex, and the occasional drink together on a rare night off. But for him to just up and leave, without notice – that hurt, more than she was willing to admit. She had been the one to put it to an end; as to why, she still didn't know. Even now, when he had been there nearly a year, she didn't know much about his past. Truthfully, she didn't want to. It was easier that way, it left them compatible in the OR and the bedroom. A twinge of guilt passed through him, and Brian stared down at the floor, "I got a great offer; it's a great hospital just outside the city…" Being out East and being near the city, she knew where he was headed; there was only one place it could be. "You lived there before; you said you hated it…" Jamie stood there, waiting, "why are you doing this, Brian?" "My, uh… my ex-wife was from there…" he returned quietly, almost embarrassed by such a personal revelation at a time like this. Brian looked down at the picture he held in his hands. He didn't know why he kept it, why he bothered to put it up. Coming back to Columbus was supposed to be about starting over, about coming back to how his life was before she was in it. It was supposed to work out. If she had moved on, why couldn't he? Nothing made sense. Nothing about going to Pittsburgh now made sense. Maybe it was the letter that convinced him to do it, maybe it was just the idea of having someone he could call a true friend. That's what they were, before it got complicated. Perhaps that's why he kept the picture, it was taken back then. Before the dating, before the mistakes. It was just them. Her with her brilliant smile, him with his shitty grin. Not even the defeat of the Buckeyes could've ruined that day in his mind. Maybe that's when he knew that things had to change. That he'd have to change his ways to fit into her world. "Oh – your ex…" Jamie looked at him, as if in disbelief. The `ex' had come up in conversation once or twice, maybe more. She didn't understand his allegiance to her, why he was so persistent about maintaining contact with the woman who had supposedly broken his heart. Their communication was infrequent, Jamie knew that. His wife had moved on, she was with someone else. What surprised her the most was that Brian seemed happy to learn his ex was expecting, believing it was what she wanted and that she was going to be a good mother, the type he would've wanted for his children. She knew how upset Brian had been when he found out the diagnosis for her child when his former father-in-law stormed into town. The humiliation Brian endured that day was pathetic, the secrets of their marriage thrown out into the open as the drunken war vet made a scene and spewed obscenities in every direction. She knew the great lengths he had gone to get the ex some information on DS, to make his resources her own. It wasn't that the favors were unreciprocated, she gave him the references he needed to settle his mother's affairs out West, had a friend of hers in Santa Fe take care of things for him. She'd seen the card the ex sent when Brian got his promotion, and the words she found were those of a true friend – not a lover. When the ex had her baby, she knew he called the florist, ready to send a big over priced bouquet, but cancelled… not wanting to cross the line, to cause a problem. After his mother died, a card came to the hospital from the ex. Somehow it got opened before he read it. Maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was just a lack of understanding. Either way, it didn't matter now. Brian had made his choice. The ex had won. She wouldn't compete. "I've got a few friends there, at least, so…" Brian turned away from her, unconvinced himself of what he was saying. He had no friends there in Pittsburgh, just mere acquaintances and colleagues. He put the picture into the box of his belongings, on the top, he was nearly done. Her gaze scanned over what was visible of its contents, the basic supplies of a male doctor who spent every waking hour he could at that hospital, trying to pass the time. Deodorant, scrubs, a pair of jeans, an Ohio State sweatshirt, matches from some place called The Incline, his running shoes (another hobby which she knew he shared with the ex), a couple medical journals, a news letter for Down's Syndrome Awareness, and that damn picture. "When are you leaving?" she asked, as if hoping to buy herself a little time – at least to make up her own mind. "Today actually, I'm driving out tonight…" Brian reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out his stethoscope, putting it around his neck, trying to distract himself from the usual impulse he felt around Jamie. As he once told her, the woman they knew around the hospital as `the ex', it was a sickness. Jamie honestly didn't seem to mind, as if she had been suffering from the same affliction. Their schedules had been conducive to just that, nothing more and nothing less. It was her decision to put an end to it, there was nothing he could do. No commitment had been made; it was about companionship, fighting off the loneliness that plagued them both. Maybe it was time for him to go back on the Zoloft, he considered, judging by how his life was going. Pittsburgh was a big uncertainty, but it was a move he felt he had to make. It took a moment for Jamie to process the news, to accept that he was going to leave – weather she liked it or not. She had been avoiding him for weeks, and now she had to face the truth. "They told me, you know… about your Mom…" she started slowly, sounding very unsure of herself, "I'm real sorry to hear about that…" "She was sick, for a while, we knew it was coming…" Brian was sure that he had told her about his mother, as he had taken off quite a few days to be with her. There was only once when he thought to bring Jamie with, but then decided against it when she balked at the idea of having dinner with him. That's when he knew it wasn't serious at all, that the sex wouldn't turn into anything more. Maybe it was selfish to hold on, but he was lonely. "Even so…" Jamie knew why he said that, it was because he didn't expect to receive her sympathies. Come to think of it, Brian really never expected much of her, unlike everyone else. It was obvious that their conversation was becoming stilted. There was really nothing left for them to say. He glanced down at his box, and back at her, "listen, I'm still on the clock and…" "Right… well, good luck on your new job in…" Jamie couldn't even bring herself to say it, still unable to rationalize his decision. But, maybe she was the one who had been wrong. "Thanks," Brian raised his head and offered what seemed to be a partial smile, "it is Pittsburgh." "Pittsburgh?" she looked at him as if she were surprised, his secret finally out. Maybe his leaving would be better for them both. She was fairly certain that if he left Columbus this time, he wouldn't be back. His decision was made. "You've got a place there already?" Jamie asked, as if she cared. Closing his locker, Brian turned back to her, "yeah, I've got a condo, right on the river…great view, not far from Shadyside…" "Wow – nice…" Jamie looked at him indifferently, not sure what to make of the man who was standing there before her. The Brian Olsen she knew barely saw his apartment, let alone relished the view. "One of the perks of the new job, I guess…" Brian couldn't help but feel proud of his accomplishment; it was truly a step up. Yet, he felt a need to clarify himself; it was something he had to do before he left. He reached out his hand and lightly stroked her shoulder, "just so you know, there are no hard feelings, what happened…" Unwilling to listen, Jamie cut him off, "are you going to be okay?" "Yeah, I think so…" Brian retracted his arm and turned away, picking up his box from the floor. He set it on the break room table, and waited a moment. "Jamie?" "What?" Jamie didn't want to look at him, but she did anyway. Nodding his head, as if trying to convince himself, Brian smiled, "I'll be fine…" Before she could say anything in return, he was gone. He was making his way down the hall, back to his post-op rounds. In her mind, for Brian, it was business as usual. Away from Jamie, Brian allowed himself to think. He really didn't know what he was expecting to find back in Pittsburgh. Their lives were in different places, they were essentially different people. When he was there for his interview, he didn't dare pick up the phone. Now, he wasn't so sure. ~*~ END OF PART 3 TO BE CONTINUED