Hello guys!
First of all I am so so sorry for this delay. But unfortunately this period is not very happy, I hope I'll be able to update more frequently. I really like this story and it means a lot for me. Thus, thank you so much for your beautiful reviews and for your kind words. You are the best and I swear I won't abandon you!
Before this chapter I want to tell you something. I'd like to explain Lexie and Mark's points of view. They are not mean and they are not the evil in this story. They simply love their Meredith and Derek very much and don't want them to suffer. Both Lexie and Mark had some hideous marriage experiences and so they are scared for Meredith and Derek. They only want to protect them.
Well, now enjoy this chapter and, as always, let me know what you think about it!
Meredith didn't sleep all night. Usually when people say that, they actually mean they woke up a few times, made a cup of tea and went back to bed.
But she actually didn't sleep all night.
And by four A.M. she eventually realized the horrible truth (after writing a loving and passionate proposal speech, including lines by Shakespeare, Richard Curtis and the Take That, and even filming herself making it): Lexie is right. Finn will never, ever, say yes. Thus, by six, she stuffed herself with all candies and chocolate she had at home and now she is slumped on a plastic chair, feeling nauseous and regretting it.
She studied logic at college and knows how it works. A=B, B=C, A=C. Premise one: Finn has no intention of proposing to her, nor to start a family.
Premise two: on the other hand, she wants marriage and commitment and, hopefully, one day, a baby.
Conclusion: she needs to be with someone else. Other conclusion: therefore, she did the right thing, breaking up with him. Further conclusion: therefore, she needs to find another man, who does want to make a life with her. Someone who wants commitment and kids and a dog and... and... and roasting a turkey for Thanksgiving and decorating a Christmas tree together... and why is that such a bad thing? Why is it totally and utterly off the agenda and unmentionable?
She takes a sip of coffee, in order to soothe her nerves. Meredith is as calm and logical as one could expect in the circumstances, which are that she had to catch the bus to Tacoma at 7:09 on no sleep and she' s about to give a recruitment talk to a hundred students in an auditorium that smells of cauliflower cheese. She is with her colleague George, in the "backstage" room to the side of the auditorium. They do a lot of these recruitment talks together: George does the science side, while Meredith does the general and economic stuff. There was time when George had a kind of crush on Meredith but now it's extinguished and they are actually good friends.
"Biscuit?" George offers her a chocolate chips cookie.
"No, thanks." Meredith shudders. She has already crammed enough trans fat and food additives into her body. Thank God the Grey genes: she has always been one of those women who don't get fat, just like her sisters.
In that moment, Leah, the college careers officer appears round the door. She is quite nervous and jumpy.
"All okay? We'll start in about ten minutes. Keep it quite brief. Nice and brief." She says nervously.
"We're happy to chat to the students afterward." Meredith states, hefting a pile of brochures out of her her canvas bag.
"Right." Her eyes are darting about. "Well, as I say, I'd keep it nice and brief."
Meredith almost wants to snap at her, she has come all the way from Seattle for this!, for God's sake. Most careers officers are delighted they'll take students' questions.
"So, normal pattern?" Meredith asks to George. "Me, you, clip one, me, you, clip two, questions?"
He nods and she hands the DVD to Leah. The recruitment DVD is the worst bit about their presentation, according to Meredith. It was shot like a 1980s music video, with bad lighting, bad music and people with bad haircuts. But is cost a lot, so they have to use it. Leah disappears to set up the DVD and Meredith leans back in her chair, trying to relax though her hands keep twisting together. Everything feels so crap.
She refreshes her lipstick, avoiding the sight of her bloodshot eyes, then hearing Leah's voice rising above the hubbub and a round of applause, she nudges George: "Come on! We're on!"
As Meredith strides onto the stage and sees their audience, she can't help but do a double take. Recruiting for a science company, she gets used to students who shamble in, hair unwashed, unshaved, with bags under their eyes. But these are stunning. There are immaculate and beautiful girls with long shiny hair, manicured nails and full makeup. Behind them there's a group of super-fit guys, their t-shirts bulging with muscles. Meredith can't speak because of astonishment. What kind of labs do they have there?
"They look great!" she murmurs to Leah and then she starts her speech about choosing a career at Blay Pharmaceuticals.
After the clips all became very clear. Leah confesses she made a mistake, sending the email about the presentation to the wrong set of students. She looked so nervous and upset because she invited to the convention trainee makeup artists and dancers, leaving out all the graduates in biochemistry, biology, business. At least Meredith understands why they are all so stunning and fit.
Thus, since giving a lecture on a career in pharmaceutical research appeared completely useless, Meredith and George start giving general advice and scan CVs.
Now, two hours later, Meredith has shared all the advice she thinks might help these guys and in return she has learned a lot about many areas she was totally ignorant of, such as: how to make someone look wounded in a movie, which actress currently starring one of the most popular TV medical dramas seems really sweet but is actually a total bitch to her makeup artist, how to do a grand jeté (failing on that one).
Now, a girl with pink hair is speaking about her eyebrows but Meredith's attention is drawn to another girl, sitting in the second row. Her eyes are red-rimmered, she hasn't said a word and she keeps blowing her nose.
When she gives a massive sob, Meredith decides she can't ignore her anymore.
"Hi," she says gently, waving to attract her attention. "Excuse me. Are you okay?"
"Stephanie's had a breakup." her friend puts a protective arm round her. "Can she be excused?"
"Of course!" Meredith promptly replies. "Absolutely!"
"But will she still get the credit related this lecture?" Chimes in another friend anxiously. "Because she's already failed one module."
"It's all his fault," says the first friend viciously and about ten girls nod in agreement.
"We were together for two year." The young girl gives another sob. "Two whole years. I even did half his coursework for him and now he's all like, I need to focus on my career." She weeps and Meredith stares at her, tears starting to her eyes too. She does know the girl's pain.
So she exclaims warmly: "Of course you'll get the credit! And I'll give you a special mention for turning up when you're clearly in mental distress."
"Will you?" Stephanie asks, giving Meredith a watery smile. "Will you really do that?"
"Yeah! But you have to listen to me, okay? You have to listen to me."
Meredith is feeling a gathering urge to speak off-topic. To convey a universal truth, not about careers, but about life and love. That girl needs to know.
Meredith suddenly feels noble and inspirational, like Hillary Clinton or Michelle Obama.
"Let me say one thing to you," she begins. "Woman to woman. Professional to professional. Human being to human being. Don't let a breakup ruin your life." Meredith feels so galvanized and so sure of herself. "You're strong." She ticks off on her fingers. "You're independent. You have your own life and, the most important thing, you do not need him. Okay?"
She waits until Stephanie whispers: "Okay."
"We've all had breakups." Meredith raises her voice to take in the whole room. "The answer isn't to cry. The answer isn't to eat chocolate nor plot revenge. You need to move on. Every time I've had a breakup, do you know what I've done? I've taken my life in a new direction, because I am in charge of my life." Meredith pounds her fist in her palm. "Not some Finn, Jackson or John who can't even do a smokey eye!"
A couple of girls break into applause and Stephanie's friend whoops supportively: "That's what I said! He's a waste of space1"
"No more crying," Meredith adds with emphasis. "No more tissues. No more checking your phone to see if he's called. No more stuffing your body with chocolate. Move your life. Fresh horizon. If I can do it, you can too."
Meredith grins, thinking Lexie would have been proud of her. Usually she is the one who gives Meredith and Molly advice about life and love, since she has always been the wisest and most rational one.
Stephanie sniffs: "But you're strong. You're amazing and I am not like you. I never will be, even when I'm your age."
Meredith is actually touched by the young girl's look, so full of wonder, though she doesn't have necessarily behave as if she's such a dinosaur. She is only thirty-three, after all.
"You will, indeed." Meredith says confidently. "You know, I was like you once. I was quite timid and I had no idea what I would do in life nor what my potential was. I was an eighteen-year-old kid, floundering around. I was lost. But then I went on my gap year."
Meredith has told this story many. Many times. At student events, at team-building seminars, at family dinners. She never gets bored of telling it, and it always gives her a tingle.
Meredith went on her gap year at eighteen years old. She finished high school and since she didn't have a clue about colleges and what she'd do in her life, she left Seattle and went to Europe with her friend Sadie Harris. They went everywhere.
London, Paris, Rome. Berlin, Madrid and Amsterdam. During the summer of the next year they arrived to Greece.
"I went on my gap year," she repeats, "and my whole life changed. I changed as a person. One pivotal night transformed me."
Meredith takes a few steps forward and looks directly at Stephanie: "According to me, during our life we all have special defining moments which set us on a path. I had my biggest defining moment on my gap year. You just need to have your own big moment. And you will."
"What happened?" She is actually agog, just like all the others.
"I was staying at a guest house on Ikonos, it's a Greek island. It was packed full of gap-year travelers and I was there all summer. That place was magical."
Every time she tells this story, it brings back the same memories. Waking every morning to the hot Greek sun dazzling her eyelids. The feel of seawater on her sunburned skin. Biking hung over peeling wooden shutters to dry. Sand in her trodden-down espadrillas. Music and dancing every night.
"Anyway. One night there was a fire." Meredith forces herself to come back to the present. "It was terrible. The guest house was packed with people, it was like a death trap. Everyone came out onto the upstairs veranda but no one could get down... everyone was screaming, there were no fire extinguishers-"
It is always the same flashback: the moment the roof fell in. Meredith can still hear the thunderous sound and the screams and she can even smell the smoke.
The room is utterly silent and George is attentively listening too, even if he already knew the story.
"I was up the tree house, thus I had a vantage point. I could see where people should be heading in order to save themselves. They had to jump off the side of the veranda onto the top of a nearby goat shed, but no one realized that. Everyone was panicking, so I took charge. I started directing people, yelling, waving my arms and jumping up and down to be noticed. Eventually someone saw me and they all listened. They all trusted me and followed my instructions. They were all okay in the end. It was the first time in my life that I realized I could be a leader. I could make the difference."
The room was still.
"Oh my goodness! How many people?" Stephanie whispers at last.
"Ten? Maybe twelve?" Meredith shrugs.
"You saved twelve lives?" She sounds awestruck.
Meredith tries to lighten the atmosphere: "Well, who knows? I am sure they would have been saved anyway. The point is, I realized something about myself." She claps her hands on her chest: "From that moment on, I had the confidence to go for what I wanted. I changed course, changed all my ideas. I can honestly say, it all dates from that point. That was my big defining moment. I became the person I am. And you all will have your defining moments too. You will."
Meredith always feels a little overcome when she tells that story. It was so terrifying. Meredith was really scared and panicky, desperate to be heard, knowing it was all down to her. She blows her nose and smiles around to silent faces. She did the difference. Whatever she does that's crap and stupid, she once did the difference.
Suddenly a blonde girl in the front row stands up: "You are the best careers adviser we've ever had. Isn't she?" She leads a round of applause and Meredith is astonished.
"I am sure I am not."
"Yes, you are," she insists, "You are ace! Can we say thank you properly?"
"It's my job. You are very welcome." Meredith smiles kindly. "It's been a pleasure to be here, though our odd beginning. Good luck with your careers and-"
"That's not what I mean." She approaches to the stage. "I am Cindy. Fancy a makeover?"
"Oh!" Meredith hesitates, glancing at her wristwatch. "I couldn't. I mean that's very kind of you-"
"Don't take it personally," says Cindy politely. "But you need it. Your eyes are red and puffy. Did you get enough sleep last night?"
"Oh." Meredith stiffens. "Yes. Yes, I did, thanks. Plenty of sleep."
"Well, in this case you need some different eye cream. Whatever you're using really isn't working."
She's peering closely at Meredith's face her. "And your nose is red. You haven't been... crying?"
"Crying?" Meredith tries not to sound too defensive. "Of course not!"
Cindy has ushered her into a plastic chair and is gently patting the skin round Meredith's eyes.
"I am sorry but your skin is in a terrible state." She beckons over a couple of friends, who pull equally dismayed faces at the sight of her eyes.
"Well, I've no idea why that is." Meredith aims for an easy smile."None. None at all."
"You must have an allergy to something. Or you use the wrong makeup, can you show me?"
Meredith reaches for her bag and pull the zip open , but it's stuck.
"Let me," says Cindy and reaches for it before Meredith can stop her. Shit. She doesn't want anyone seeing the massive chocolate bar she brought with her that morning and half consumed while waiting for George (it was a moment of weakness.)
"Don't worry, I'll do it." Meredith exclaims, grabbing it back. But Cindy's hand is already wrenching open the zip and so the whole thing gets jostled and jerked and the half-chocolate bar has been tossed out of the bag, together with a mostly drunk miniature bottle of white wine (further moment of weakness) and the shreds of a ripped-up picture of Finn (even further moment of weakness).
"Sorry!" Cindy says in horror, gathering the shreds. "I am so sorry! What's-" She looks more closely. "Is that a photo? What happened to it?"
"Here's your chocolate," volunteers anther girl.
Meredith wants to die. After her inspiring speech all these girls are facing her secret weakness. As Finn's eye is staring at her out of a fragment of the picture, she feels her insides heave with sudden grief. She can detect a few meaningful looks passing among the girls, but she doesn't have any words. She cannot find a noble and inspirational way out this one.
Cindy turns and surveys her bloodshot eyes again, then she springs into life and starts stuffing all the things back into Meredith's bag.
"Anyway," she says briskly, "the most important thing right now is making you look totally fabulous. Are you up for it?"
As her face is brushed and penciled by Cindy and her fellow students, Meredith is in a state of near bliss. They've sprayed her face with foundation and put rollers in her hair and they keep changing their mind about which eye look to give her, but Meredith is barely listening. She is in trance and doesn't care if she'll be late back to her office. She keeps drifting off to sleep and half waking up and her mind is swirl of dream and color and thought.
Every time she finds herself thinking about Finn, she wrenches her mind away. She's going to be okay, she just needs to take her own advice and find a new mission. Maybe she should travel.
Her thoughts keep drifting back to Ikonos. It was an amazing summer, indeed. At least until the fire happened, the police arrived and everything disbanded in chaos. She was so young. She was so thin. She lived in cutoff shorts and string-bikini top. She had beads in her hair. And of course there was Derek, her first proper boyfriend. Her first relationship. Dark hair and crinkly blue eyes and the smell of sweat and salt. God, how much sex did they have? Three times a day, at least. And when they weren't having sex, they were thinking about sex. It was insane, like a kind of drug.
Wait. Wait a minute.
Derek?
Meredith's eyes pop open and Cindy cries in dismay: "Keep still!"
It couldn't be.
"Sorry." She blinks, trying to stay composed. "Actually... can we pause a moment? I need to make a call."
She turns away, rummages for her phone and presses Kayla's speed dial, telling herself not to be stupid. It cannot be him. Obviously it's not him.
"Meredith, hi," comes Kayla's voice. "Everything okay?"
Why would he be calling after all this time? It's been fifteen years, for God's sake. They haven't been in touch since... since then.
"Hey Kayla. I just wanted the number of that guy Derek. The one who called yesterday while I was out, remember?"
"Oh yes. Hold on... Here we are." She dictates a mobile phone number. "Who is he?"
"I'm not sure... You are positive he didn't give a surname?"
"No, just Derek."
Meredith rings off and stare at the number. Just Derek. Just Derek. It cannot be him.
How many people are there in the world called Derek? About five zillion. Precisely.
Just Derek.
But that's the thing. That's why her breath is coming just a little short and she is instinctively sitting up straight in a more attractive manner. Who would call himself like that except her old boyfriend?
She punches the number, closes her eyes tight and waits. The ringing tone sounds. And again. And again.
"Derek Shepherd." There's a pause. "Hello? It's Derek Shepherd. Is anyone there?"
Meredith can't talk. Her stomach is doing a little dance.
It's him.
The first thing to say is that Meredith looks fabulous. The second thing is, she is not going to sleep with him.
No. No, she is not. Even though she has been thinking about it all day. Even though she has been gently fizzing just at the memory. Him. How it was. How they were together. She feels surreal and a bit light-headed. She can't believe she's going to see him. After all this time. Derek. She means, Derek!
Hearing his voice was like some sort of time-travel trigger. At once she was sitting opposite him at that rickety little table they used to commandeer in the evening. Olive trees all around. Her bare feet resting in his lap. A can of ice-cold Sprite. She had forgotten about her Sprite addiction until that very instant.
Since the, memories and images have been resurfacing all day, some vague and some fully composed. His eyes. His scent. He was always so intense. That's what she remembers most. His intensity. He made her feel as though they were starring in their own movie, as though nothing mattered except him and her and now. It was all about sensation. The sensation of him. Of sun and sweat. Sea and sand. Skin and skin. Everything was hot and heightened and... incredible.
And this, fifteen years later, this is- well. Bizarre. She glances at her watch and feels a little shiver of anticipation. Enough loitering in shop entrance. It's time to go.
They're meeting at a new fish restaurant in Ballard, which has had good reviews. Apparently Derek works nearby, doing something or other, Meredith didn't ask, which was stupid, so she had to resort to a hasty Google when she finally got back to the office.
She couldn't track him down on Facebook, but there was some website about a paper company, which apparently he's a director of. She is kind of surprised, since he wanted to be an actor when they were together, but she guesses it didn't work or maybe he just changed his mind. They didn't talk too much about careers or jobs back then. They were pretty busy with sex and how they were going to change the world. She does remember lots of late-night discussions on Brecht, who he was reading, and Chekhov, who she was reading. And global warming. And philanthropy. And politics. And euthanasia.
She approaches the restaurant, teetering a bit on her new high heels, feeling her hair bounce around her shoulders and admiring her immaculate manicure. As soon as Cindy and her friends heard Meredith was going on a date with an ex-boyfriend, they launched into a whole new level of activity. They did her nails. They dyed her brows. They even offered her a bikini wax. Of course, she didn't need that. She'd already been to the salon three days earlier, to get prepared for hot, joyous, post-proposal sex with Finn. Total waste of money.
She suddenly feels a painful, humiliated pang. She should invoice him for the salon bill. She should send it to him in San Francisco, together with a dignified letter saying simply, Dear Finn. When you get this letter-
No. stop it, Meredith. Do not think about Finn. Move on, move on, move on.
She grips her clutch bag more tightly, willing strength into herself. Everything is meant. It all has a pattern. One minute she is at her lowest ebb- the next, Derek is contacting her. It's fate. It's karma.
Although she is not going to sleep with him. Nope. She is not.
As she reaches the entrance to the restaurant, she whips out her handbag mirror and check her reflection one last time. Bloody hell: she keeps forgetting how great she looks. Her skin looks radiant. She has stunning new cheekbones, which Cindy somehow invented with bluster and highlighter. Her lips look fresh and luscious. To sum up: she is gorgeous.
It's the opposite of nightmare scenario where you bump into your ex-boyfriend, wearing only pajamas and a hangover. It's a dream scenario. She has never looked better in her life, and she is fairly sure she never will again. Not unless she hires ten makeup artists.
With a sudden little burst of confidence, she pushes open the restaurant door, to be greeted by a warm, inviting smell of garlic and seafood. There are leather booths and a massive chandelier and the right kind of hubbub. Not show-offy and obnoxious but civilized and friendly. A mixologist is shaking a cocktail at the bar and Meredith has an instant desire for a mojito.
She is not going to get drunk, she hastily resolves. She is not going to sleep with him ans she is not going to get drunk.
The maitre is approaching her. Here goes.
"Good afternoon. I am here to meet a... a friend. He reserved a table. Derek Shepherd?"
"Of course." He smiles and leads her a winding route through the restaurant, past about ten tables at which possible men are sitting with their faces averted. Each time, her stomach heaves with apprehension. Is that him? Is that him? Please not that one!
Oh goodness! Meredith almost squeaks. Here he is, rising from his chair. Stay cool. Smile. This is so, so, so surreal.
Her eyes are running over him, registering details at top speed. Slightly odd patterned shirt, he is taller than sh remembers. Thinner. His face is definitely thinner and his dark wavy hair is shorter now. There's a hole in his ear where his earring used to be.
"Well... hi there!" She greets him.
Meredith is satisfied at the way she sounds so understated. Especially since a bubble of excitement is growing inside her right now that she has had a proper view. Look at him! He is handsome! Just like he always was, but better. More grown-up, less gawky.
He leans for a kiss. A grown-up, civilized double kiss. Then he draws back and surveys her.
"Meredith. You look... incredible."
