AN: Thank you for all of the positive feedback. It overwhelms me that people actually enjoy reading what I write, let alone follow a story and get excited for updates. I just want everyone to know that I am very appreciative and your support keeps me going. So, onward to chapter two.

Chapter 2

Elizabeth could barely see through her tears by the time she made it to her room. She threw herself down on the bed and sobbed. More than an hour passed before she calmed down to the point of being able to move. Elizabeth changed into her pajamas and went down to the bathroom to wash her face. The reflection that stared back at her was foreign. She didn't even know who the person in the mirror was. She was forced to look away. Trudging back to her room, Elizabeth crawled under the covers. Her pillow was soaked with tears, but she didn't even bother to turn it over, knowing there would be more to come.

The sun blasted in her window the next morning. She closed her eyes against the invasion and pulled her blanket over her head and lay, waiting for sleep to come again. It never did. Finally she gave up and sat up at the edge of the bed. Elizabeth felt horrible. Her eyes were itchy and they stung, Her throat was dry and she felt like there was an anvil sitting on her chest. She stood, and just that action sent pain radiating through her body.

Elizabeth would argue vehemently with anyone who said that grieving didn't cause physical pain. But what exactly was she grieving, her own situation or Henry's? She felt certain that by this point in time, she'd come to terms with her own predicament. If it was Henry's, why did she care? She wasn't sure.

She walked slowly down to the bathroom and turned the water on first, hoping that the shower would be somewhat warm by the time that she finished all of her other business. To call the water warm was a stretch, but she was certainly awake by the end of it. Wrapping her robe tightly around her she left the bathroom and walked down the hall. There was a steady thumping that caused her to wrinkle her forehead in thought. As she descended the stairs, she realized that someone was knocking, or maybe beating, on the front door.

If she'd been thinking clearly, Elizabeth would have ignored it, or checked in the peephole to see who it was, but she wasn't thinking at all and blindly opened the door. "Henry," she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you. Last night you were upset and I caused it, and I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry." He bowed his head and held out a bag. "And I brought you the ice cream and Oreos because we didn't get to have dessert last night."

An explainable calm enveloped Elizabeth, and a small smile curled at the corners of her mouth and she stepped back. "Come on in." She walked him into the lounge. "Let me run up and change. I'll be right back." A few minutes later, she came down the stairs, her still damp hair braided down her back, wearing gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Rounding the corner, she saw Henry standing in front of the window, looking out. The early afternoon sun filtered in around him, highlighting his muscular build, protruding Adam's apple, defined jaw, wispy brown hair that she was sure would curl if he let it grow much longer.

A warmth radiated from her chest throughout her body and she was suddenly aware that she was physically attracted to this man. She shook her head to clear those thoughts. Henry might think he wanted to make a second family, but she had no such desire. She firmly planned to reside in the boat she was currently in. Her parents were dead, and her brother had no real desire to be around her unless absolutely necessary. It was easier this way. No messy feelings, no chance of getting hurt or losing someone again.

Henry waited in the lounge while she changed. He sat, then paced, and finally stood at the window. He had tried to figure out what he was going to say. He couldn't say that he understood, or that he hoped it would get better. Everything he thought just seemed trite and even though he didn't know Elizabeth well, he didn't want to add to her emotional burden.

He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and found her standing in the doorway. He turned, "Elizabeth, I-" he started, but was interrupted.

"Let's just pretend that last night didn't happen, or at least the end of it. There isn't anything that either of us can say to change the other's situation, so let's just not worry about it, alright?"

"Agreed, but only on the condition that you accept my apology. I was running my mouth about something that I didn't know anything about. That was arrogant and overreaching, and I'm sorry I acted like I knew your situation."

She nodded, "Apology accepted. So what kind of ice cream you got there Mr. McCord?"

"Peanut Butter fudge ripple, which kind of begs to be eaten with Oreos."

"Most certainly," she grinned. She crossed the room and they sat down on the couch and ate and talked and watched a bit of TV and talked some more.

The sun started sinking quickly and Henry glanced at his watch, 5:00. "Have you eaten anything except ice cream today?"

"I had Oreos," she said sheepishly. "They're a grain, right?"

Henry laughed. "Not hardly. I was going to make dinner. Do you think I could talk you into joining me?"

"You could try," she said, her voice suddenly taking on a flirty tone that she wasn't comfortable with.

"Pizza. Homemade pizza." Henry's voice was low and sultry. She curiously wondered how he could make the word pizza sound sensual.

"Sold," she said. "Let me get my things." She dashed upstairs and grabbed her purse and coat. They walked a fair amount of the way in silence. "You're pretty good at Scrabble." she said. She cringed, "that sounded so stupid," she thought.

"You're better. In fact, I think you are the best player I've ever seen. Do you play a lot?" Henry asked. She was thankful that Henry was kind enough to at least act interested in the conversation.

"Not really. But I read the dictionary sometimes." Henry stopped in his tracks and looked at her.

"Really? You read the dictionary? Like front to back or pick a page or maybe letter of the day?" He sported a goofy grin and Elizabeth couldn't help but to laugh. She playfully pulled on his arm to keep him walking.

"Don't tease. It was this weird coping mechanism I had, especially in middle school and high school. Studying words took my mind off of other things." He studied her carefully, and Elizabeth became uncomfortable and tried to change the direction of the conversation. "Friends, arguments, bullies, that sort of thing. I just happen to have a decent memory." She shrugged it off. "I don't do it much anymore."

"Other things, huh?" She could tell his tone of voice changed and his intent was clear.

"Yeah, things I don't want to talk about, okay?" She hoped that was the end of it. She hated telling people, or even hinting, about her parents' deaths. It totally changed the focus of the relationship. Suddenly she became their next pet project. Make Lizzie more social. Find Lizzie a man. Get Lizzie laid. It was one of the reason she left Lizzie behind. She was Elizabeth now, for the most part, although there were a couple people who frequently called her Liz. She furled her lip. She didn't bother to tell them though. Elizabeth wasn't a person who put much energy into relationships that weren't going to mean much to her long term.

Henry watched Elizabeth as they walked and it was almost like he could see the wheels turning. When she didn't think anyone was looking, she wore her emotions on her face. He paid attention to the pain, embarrassment, sadness, frustration. They all came and went and then blank. She'd processed whatever it was he supposed.

"What do you like on your pizza?" Henry asked, hoping that he had things she would eat.

"I'll eat pretty much anything, but if given a choice, I'd prefer to skip green things," she said and Henry gave her a thumbs up.

Before she knew it, she was sitting on the end of Henry's bar, watching him make the pizza dough from scratch. As he turned and kneaded it, Elizabeth commented, "You must be able to rid yourself of a lot of stress doing that." He laughed and pulled her off the edge to join him. Within seconds, her sleeves were pushed up to her elbows and he hands were covered in dough. Henry added more flour and showed Elizabeth how to work it in. "This is satisfying," she murmured as she pushed the dough down and folded it over, again and again until it was just the right amount of elastic. That was Henry's term. She had no idea how to tell if dough was elastic, or why that would be a good thing.

Henry set it aside to rise and then got some Italian sausage to brown and instructed Elizabeth to cut some onions, mushrooms and peppers, "for his half," he'd explained. By the time she'd finished that, Henry had a sauce simmering and it was time to shape the dough. Henry cut the now rather large ball of dough in half and gave each of them a piece. They shaped their dough into something that might be construed as a circle and put them in the oven to start baking. After a few minutes, they topped their crusts and returned the pizzas to the oven.

"Do you cook like this all of the time, or is it just because you have a little more free time with the holiday?" she asked.

He grinned. "I like to cook for people. I often have people over so I can cook for them. I'm not much for leftovers though, so when I'm by myself I make easy things." They cleaned up and finished just as the pizza was done. Henry quickly cut it and they took slices to the couch where they turned on the Packers/Seahawks game.

Henry wouldn't have guessed Elizabeth as a sports enthusiast, but she most certainly knew what was going on on the football field. She cheered, made calls ahead of the officials, and high fived Henry. She said she wasn't a particular fan of either team, but it was evident that the Packers got her support because of her disdain for the Seahawks. She was elated when they won.

Henry sat back and watched Elizabeth, and he found that he was at ease with her. She was smart, but the draw wasn't just her intelligence. It was her desire to learn about new things, about people and what drives them, and what others find interesting. She was funny, sliding in silly one liners or making completely appropriate yet hilarious facial expressions. She was pretty, but when she laughed, her beauty went to a whole other level. It was almost like she was likeable when he met her, but everything one could see superficially was actually ten times that once you got to know her.

She turned and looked at him, still smiling, and in that moment he wanted to kiss her. No, he didn't just want to kiss her. He wanted feel her pressed against his body. He wanted to know the kinds of sounds she made when she was touched in just the right way, when he touched her. Henry blushed. He absolutely could not be thinking about those kinds of things. Elizabeth was completely off limits. There would be nothing that happened there.

Elizabeth noticed the change immediately. He'd been laughing with her as they watched the game. Then he went silent and she could feel him watching her, she turned and smiled and she wasn't sure she could read his thoughts until he blushed. Then, she knew what exactly what Henry was thinking, and she honestly couldn't say she was opposed, at least on a casual basis. "Henry, " she murmured.

Panic set in. He didn't know how to respond, but the look she gave him told him she might be interested. "I have a girlfriend," he said suddenly.