Just because. :)

Someone knocked on the door.

Carter automatically rose from his recliner in the living room, but looked at the door rather than answering it. The knocks had been timid and nervous, but at the same time they were anxious and pleading.

Why was he reading so much into the bangs on his door? Damn writer habits. He exited the living room and slowly opened the door.

Lucy Hardwicke stood before him, her blond hair vibrant in the darkness, her eyes glistening with tears and her arms crossed, a small duffel bag hanging on her shoulder. She was wearing dark blue jeans with a narrow, studded belt and a fitted white concert T-shirt.

"Hi." He said this nonchalantly, as if he couldn't see her jaws clenching and unclenching in an attempt to not fall to pieces.

She sniffed, shifted her posture like she always did in uncomfortable situations, and avoided his eyes. "Um…can I come in?"

Even if he hadn't seen the tears in her eyes, they were obvious in her voice. "Yeah, of course," he replied as if agreeing to baby-sit a little kid while the mom went grocery shopping. He stepped aside then shut the door behind Lucy once she crossed the threshold.

"You can throw your bag in my room if you want," he said when he saw her slide the strap down her arm.

She nodded once, still not making eye contact.

He watched her as she went down the hallway into his room, then reappeared moments later minus her bag. Her arms crossed again and she kept her eyes on the floor.

Carter put his hands in his pockets. "Do you wanna come sit down?" he offered, gesturing towards the living room. She passed him without a word and slowly sank into the armchair in the corner. She folded her legs under her so that she was sitting Indian-style.

He took a seat on the couch, facing her, but with the coffee table between them. He had a feeling she wanted space.

"So what brings you here on this fine evening?" He would keep it casual until she was ready to talk.

She chewed on her thumbnail, but didn't say anything.

Carter had never experienced a silence so stifling. He took a breath to change the subject. "You don't have to—"

"I was supposed to sleep at a friend's house tonight," she began suddenly, not looking up from the floor. "And my mom and my sister are on a trip with some neighbors. My dad said he had tickets to an out-of-town basketball game."

She stopped, but he said nothing. He knew she wasn't finished.

She took a deep breath. "I was at the sleepover, and everyone started smoking. I told them that I quit, because…" She trailed off, then changed her mind about something. "I told them no thanks, that I wasn't into that anymore. So they got pissed and kicked me out." Another pause. She absentmindedly rifled a hand through her hair. "I went home…I figured no one would have to know what happened, because I was supposed to be the first one home tomorrow, anyways." She clenched her jaws for a moment. "I got there and the lights were on…my dad's car was still in the garage…I went looking through the house to see what was going on."

Carter's heart skipped a beat when Lucy finally looked up at him.

"And I walked in on him and his lover."

She looked away after she finished the sentence, but he couldn't tear his gaze from her. She was biting her fingernail again. He could tell it was killing her to say this out loud.

"What did you do?" he asked quietly.

"I ran. I grabbed my stuff from my room, and I came over here."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "Why here?"

She shrugged, then looked at him with pain in her eyes. "I have nowhere else to go." She thought for a second, then continued. "And you're…you're good at this kind of thing. You know…talking and stuff."

The corner of his mouth twitched when she blushed at her comment, and he let out a small laugh. "Well, I wouldn't go that far, but thank you."

There was a long stretch of somewhat awkward silence.

"Want some mac 'n' cheese?" he randomly asked.

She arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"Macaroni and cheese. It's the ultimate comfort food, and The Cheesiest happens to be my specialty."

Her expression was comically confused and somewhat taken-aback. "Um…okay."

He rose from the couch and raised his eyebrows once. "Let's do it."

*****

"So…what's the verdict?"

Lucy stuck a final spoonful of macaroni into her mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "That might just be the best mac 'n' cheese I've ever had."

He smiled. "Well, I couldn't have asked for a better assistant."

She frowned, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "I handed you the milk and the butter."

"Both of which are vital to the macaroni-making process," he replied. "You'll be an outstanding replacement when I retire."

She smiled a little and looked down at her empty bowl, then rubbed her temples.

Carter drummed his fingers against the table. "You look tired."

She looked up at him briefly. "No, I'm fine, I just…have a headache."

He stood and put both of their bowls in the sink. "You're more than welcome to hijack my bed for the night."

"No, it's okay, I'll just crash on the couch or something—"

He held up his hands to stop her. "Hey, don't worry about it. Mi casa…" He stopped in mid-sentence. "Well, mi Grandma's casa es su casa. You're taking the bed."

Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. "Um…thanks."

He flipped his hand over in a don't-mention-it gesture. "Now go to bed—I don't want you passing out on me."

She stared at him for a moment, a look of he-wasn't-sure-what in her eyes, then finally rose from her chair. "Good-night, I guess."

"Mind if I join you for a sec?" he asked, catching up with her. "I have to grab some stuff out of my room." He reached the door a few strides before her and opened it, then gestured for her to enter. "After you."

As he rummaged through his dresser, she took a seat on his bed and began untying her shoes. Thunk. One shoe fell to the floor. He went across the hall and started brushing his teeth.

"Carter?"

Brush brush brush. He spit into the sink. "Yeah?" he called.

There was a hesitant moment of quiet. "I think I hate my dad."

"Why's that?" Brush brush brush.

"He grounded me for a week the first time he caught me smoking, yet he's having an affair."

Spit. "That's a tad hypocritical."

"Yeah, but…he brought her to our house. Our house, where our family is, where me and my sister and my mom live."

Brush brush brush. Spit.

"He wasn't there when my mom got sick. I was the one who had to call 911. I was the one who had to see her like that…lying on the floor."

Spit. He rinsed his toothbrush off and walked slowly back to his room.

"I had to tell the nurses that I didn't know where he was."

He stood in the doorway. She was sitting cross-legged, facing him, but staring down at her lap. Her voice was still louder than normal—she thought he was still in the bathroom.

"I had to hold my mom's hand and tell her everything was going to be okay," she continued.

He took a few more steps.

"He should've been there for her. He's her husband, that's what he's supposed to do…" She stopped and looked up when he sat next to her on the bed. Her eyes were red and glistening with not quite tears.

"He should've been there, not sleeping with some other woman," she said, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Carter draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him, and was surprised when she leaned against him.

More tears were coming. "She's more important to him than we are." Her voice was laced with pain.

"That's not true at all," he replied, rubbing her arm.

"You can't know that." She sniffed and took a deep, shaky breath.

"I know that your dad loves you."

She laughed without humor.

"No, seriously, he does. Some men just don't realize how their actions affect the people they care about."

There was a stretch of silence.

Lucy finally took a deep, shaky breath, but it caught in her throat. "He brought his lover to our house," she repeated to herself.

"Come here," Carter said softly, and he laid back on the bed, taking Lucy with him. She curled up against him, resting her head on his chest and letting the tears flow freely.

Lucy's hand ended up on his abdomen, and he covered it with his. He gently explored each crevice and fold of her palm, drew invisible designs with his fingertips, and traced the faint blue veins up to her wrist. As he did this her breathing slowed and became even, her tears subsiding, until he knew she was asleep.

He was starting to fall asleep himself when someone knocked on the front door. He carefully pried himself away from Lucy and made his way to the door.

Carter turned the knob and pulled. Mr. Hardwicke stood before him.

He put on a smile. "Good evening, Mr. Hardwicke."

He smiled back. "Hey, Carter." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Is Lucy here?"

"She is."

Lucy's father looked past him. "Thanks, I really need to talk to her…"

Carter pretended to be curious. "What about?"

He shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing. We just had a small misunderstanding and she ran…you know how teenage girls are."

Carter nodded slowly. "Yeah. What can you do?"

Mr. Hardwicke looked at him expectantly for a moment, but when nothing happened, he spoke again. "I'd like to see my daughter."

Carter feigned a look of sympathy. "Can it wait until tomorrow?" He gestured toward his bedroom. "She's sleeping right now, and I wouldn't want to wake her up…" He trailed off. "She looked pretty beat when she got here, I think she had a rough night," he continued, looking directly into the man's eyes.

Something flickered across Mr. Hardwicke's face, briefly darkening his expression. "What are you suggesting, Carter?" His tone was still light, but it was forced nonchalance.

"What makes you think I'm suggesting something?" Carter asked innocently. "Did something happen?"

"That's none of your business," he answered through gritted teeth. He was clearly trying to stay calm. "Now I would appreciate it if you would get my daughter so I could take her home."

"Oh, did your company leave?"

Mr. Hardwicke's eyes turned to ice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Carter smiled and looked down, nodding his head, then glanced back up. "You bastard."

Mr. Hardwicke just stared back at him.

"I know what happened, Lucy told me everything. How you lied about going out of town and then brought your lover over when you thought no one would find out. How you weren't there when your wife got sick, how Lucy had take care of her." Carter paused, then continued wiith a quieter voice. "Your wife has breast cancer, and while the rest of your family is trying desperately to cope with that, you're off cheating on her."

Mr. Hardwicke looked away, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"I'm gonna go back inside now," Carter announced, turning to the door.

"Carter—" Mr. Hardwicke began.

Carter glanced back at him. "I'll tell Lucy you stopped by." He stepped across the threshold and closed the door without another word.

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