Thanks for all the kind words about my first fic "Just to See." This will be a multi-chap story as well! I don't own New Girl or anything associated with it.
Nick rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands for what seemed like the millionth time since he woke up. It was one of those perfect Los Angeles Saturdays, the kind that made Californians ooze smugness; the kind of weather that inspired beach traffic, brunch crowds and annoying Facebook posts. Why would I ever leave L.A. when this is what February looks like? Barefoot in the park the week of Valentine's Day, life is rough! The sun was slanting through his window with reckless cheerfulness. Even with the curtains drawn, he could have penned a novel, deciphered something on graph paper, found a missing contact lens. The weather's resolute perfection made Nick's misery all the more pronounced.
A missed call from his Mom is what woke him up before seven. He saw his phone light up, read the caller ID and aimed a little shout of annoyance at his pillow. It's 6:49 a.m. Ma! I can't deal with your crazy this early. Nick pulled the covers over his head, but had a hard time willing himself back to sleep. His Mom hadn't left a voicemail, which made him feel a little funny, so after 20 minutes of tossing and turning, he gave up and called her back.
She answered on the first ring and there was no scolding in her tone. She didn't admonish him about being lazy or tease him about not being a morning person. Her voice sounded strange and hollow. Something was up. She wearily told him his Dad was gone. A heart attack she explained; too many beers, too much stress, too many years dodging creditors and bookies. Nick couldn't figure out what to say or even what to ask. He told his Mom he loved her and that he'd be on the first flight out that had room.
Two hours later, Nick was still in his room. He hadn't climbed back into bed. Instead, he attacked the clutter in his bedroom with uncharacteristic ferocity. He vacuumed, hung up wayward articles of clothing, made a pile for Goodwill, filled a trash bag with crap he didn't want and dusted every single surface in reaching distance. He straightened his books, CDs, movies, picture frames and was just about to attempt to turn his mattress when he heard a soft knock at the door.
"Hey Nick, everything ok?" Jess called. "I've been hearing some confusing early morning bustle from your room and figured it was probably a robbery-in-progress, 'cause why else would you be up and moving by 9 a.m.?"
Nick opened the door to a smiling Jess, who looked more cheerful than should be allowed in a pair of jeans and a bright green t-shirt decorated with applique lemons. She proffered a cup of coffee and then gasped at the state of his room.
"Nicolas!" she exclaimed, smiling. "What's gotten into you? This place is pristine!" She walked into his bedroom, aghast, and checked out the full scope of his early morning cleaning. "Do I smell lemon Pledge? Are these vacuum tracks? Are your shoes grouped by color?" Jess turned to look at him, her smile fading a little. "What's going on?"
Nick opened his mouth to speak, but was surprised to find his throat was desert dry. He gulped some of the hot coffee Jess had brought him and it scalded a little strength into him. He sat down on the edge of his perfectly made bed and looked up at Jess, who now looked downright alarmed.
"My Dad's dead Jess," Nick said. "I just found out, my Mom called this morning."
Jess clapped a hand over her mouth and blinked back a few shocked tears before getting a grip on herself a dropping next to him.
"Oh Nick," she said softly. "Oh God, I'm so sorry; how terrible." She put her hand on his shoulder and just left it there as they sat quietly. Her hand was like a little, reassuring friend, warming him the tiniest bit through his old blue t-shirt. A few moments passed before she spoke again. "Ok, so what do I need to do?"
"What?" Nick asked. "What do you need to do?"
"Yeah, I figure you probably have a lot on your plate right now, so how can I help? Do you want me to look for flights to Chicago? I can call the bar and tell them what's going on and how about I run your suit and a couple dress shirts to the one-hour dry cleaner? Also, I'm a tremendous packer."
Nick stared at her in disbelief. She hadn't asked him how his Dad had died. She hadn't tried to pry him open and unlock his feelings. In true Jess form, all she asked of him was permission to help.
"Jess, that's really, I mean, I really appreciate…" his throat closed a little and she waved him off.
"It's nothing. You'd do the same in a minute." Jess said looking him straight in the eye. "How about this? I know you probably have some people to call and things to figure out. Do you want me to start with flights? How about something that leaves tomorrow before lunch?"
"Yeah, that's good. See if you can find something semi affordable," Nick finished, blushing.
"Absolutely. Don't worry; Chicago isn't exactly in high season during the month of February. Ok, I'll check in with you in an hour, sound good?"
"Yeah, that's great. Jess, thanks."
He turned to look her full in the face and his stomach clenched a little. They'd had an interesting couple of weeks. Their heart stopping kiss after True American had changed everything. Sure, they'd both backed away from each other and tried to brush the kiss off as a one-time "mistake," but the electric pull between them in the days since told another story. They'd been spending more time together than usual, and each little joke, each flirty touch seemed amplified now. Nick wasn't ready to admit what it was exactly that he felt for Jess, but right now, as he took in the tenderness of her gaze, the concern in her face, he knew it was more than just attraction.
"I'm happy to do it. Nick, I'm so sorry this happened." With that, Jess slid her arms around his neck and pulled Nick into a warm hug. Hugs weren't usually his default, but he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and clung on like a drowning kid to a life preserver. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, you can do this, you can get through this.
Jess pulled back, gave him a steadying smile and walked in the hall. "See you in an hour."
Exactly 60 minutes later, Jess popped her head in his open door. Nick was already exhausted from playing the messenger. He'd made about 15 calls in the last hour. Repeating the same, grim information time and time again was taking its toll.
"Hey Nick, I made you a little late breakfast," Jess held out a plate laden with a fried egg sandwich and two mini muffins. "Do you want to eat in here or in the kitchen?"
"In the kitchen definitely," Nick said following her out. "I need to preserve the integrity of my clean room." His first attempt at humor was a little weak, but it felt good to try. "Thanks Jess," he said as he dug in. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."
"No problem. So are you ready for flight information?"
"Lay it on me."
"Ok, well luckily I had a lot of miles stored up from flights home to see my parents and girl's weekends with Cece, so I got us two free non-stops into O'Hare that leave tomorrow at 9:15."
Nick stopped eating. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I just thought, you know it's hard to do this stuff and I had all these airline points saved and you know, I'll get a hotel, I just thought it might be easier to travel with someone. I can help with errands and stuff in Chicago and then disappear when you need to have family time. But I can just cancel mine, I mean, if this is stupid. You might not want me around and I don't know, I just thought…"
Jess halted her rambling monologue to catch her breath, but before she could crank up again, Nick took her face between his hands and stroked both thumbs across her flushed cheeks. He tried to convey the strength of what he was feeling with a look and his gentle touch, but didn't know if it was enough.
"Thank you Jess. I'd love you to come." Losing his nerve a little, he released her and turned back to his breakfast. "Those flights sound great."
Jess cleared her throat and came back to herself. "Good, then it's all settled. I'll run your clothes to the cleaners and then help you pack. By the way, Schmidt and Winston will fly in later, once the service is set."
Nick opened his mouth to protest, but found he really didn't want to. As Jess bustled off to gather up his one and only dark suit, Nick felt the first prickle of grief sting his eyes and gouge his throat. His Dad was gone; and "a little broken" Nick Miller was supposed to pick up the jagged shards left behind. He didn't know what he was doing; he wasn't sure how he felt, and now his friends were putting their lives on hold to support him. His heart swelled painfully in his chest. He didn't deserve it.
Sunday morning dawned a little chillier than Saturday. He had hauled his black suitcase and Jess' two, flowery totes down to the curb. As Schmidt had insisted on playing early morning chauffeur, they'd arrived at the airport in plenty of time. Settled at the gate, he looked over at Jess as she sipped green tea while immersed in her novel. It was a Swedish mystery called Echoes From the Dead and every now and then she'd gasp in shock or exclaim, No way! After watching her read an entire page with her hand covering her mouth, he let out of puff of laughter, breaking her concentration.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing really, you're just funny," Nick said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just that with everything you do, you just really go for it, you know? Like right now, reading that book. You're not just flipping through it, you're inside that story. You keep reacting to the plot and you're so immersed in what's going on, you keep drinking tea that's too hot and wincing."
Jess laughed. "Yeah, well I've always kind of been like that with reading. My Mom used to let me bring books to restaurants and the waiter would always have to say 'Miss?' like a hundred times before I'd look up and realize it was time to order."
Nick laughed. "I can see that. But it's not just reading. The way you jumped in yesterday to help out with this stuff, and right now, you coming with me? That's not just a normal friend thing to do." Nick looked down at his hands. "It really means something to me."
Jess reached over and laced her fingers through Nick's. He looked down at their joined hands and took a shaky breath.
"Nick, it means something to me too."
The crackly loud speaker announced it was time to board and Nick and Jess filed onto the plane. Once their stuff was stowed and they were buckled in, Jess turned to Nick with a nervous little smile.
"So, Nick, we've never flown together before, so one thing you should know is that take-off and landing are two phases of air travel that I'm not a big fan of."
"Is that so Jessica?"
"Yessir, so I may act a little clingy and weird, but once we're at 30,000 feet, I'll act normal again. Same goes before touchdown. So can you handle a little close proximity, just for a few minutes?"
Nick stretched his arm out, wrapped it around Jess's trembling shoulders and pulled her close. She immediately snuggled in, closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest. "Well, if I must, I must. You did spring for the tickets," Nick laughed.
As their Chicago-bound plane went airborne, Nick felt his heart lift just a little. Even though he was on his way home, where a tangle of upset and grief awaited him, at least he was headed there with someone who thought he was worth the trip.
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