Walt heard the shower shut off and waited a few more minutes until he heard the bathroom door open. He got up from his chair and stepped over to the bedroom door. Just as he was about to knock the door opened and Vic stood looking at his raised hand.
Walt stared at her; how could anyone make a pair of oversized running shorts and t-shirt look so sexy? He shook his head to bring his attention back to the situation at hand. As he lowered his arm and cleared his throat, "Uhm, here," he stepped passed her, over to his closet, and removed the new robe along with the slippers, "Put these on, you'll be warmer."
"Thanks." Vic didn't think the cabin was all that cold but thought Walt might be uncomfortable with her wearing only the light material of the running clothes.
He held the robe for her as she slipped both arms in and then he wrapped the robe and his arms around her and spoke into the back of her neck, "I built a fire. The front room is much warmer. I'll leave the door open so the bedroom will warm up soon."
"Okay. But can we keep the bedroom door closed? I like a cool room to sleep in. Makes cuddling nicer."
He kissed the back of her neck and her damp hair, "Done."
Vic turned and kissed him deeply then used his arm to steady herself as she slipped her feet into the slippers, "I'll leave you to your shower."
Walt said nothing as he watched her leave the room. Before he lost himself in thought he headed for the bathroom, grabbed another towel and a hair brush from the cabinet and took them out to Vic. He saw her finger combing her hair by the fire and was pleased with himself for thinking to take her the towel and new brush Cady had left the day before. "Will these help?"
She looked up and smiled in surprise, "Yeah they will." She let her fingers glide across the top of his when she took the towel and brush, "Thank you."
He ran his thumb down his fingers, along the same path her fingers had taken, and look at his hand before meeting her eyes, "Yep." He looked back at his fingers, almost as though he were mesmerized, and then headed for the shower.
Vic couldn't help but smile to herself. She knew he was trying to be open and flexible, but the smallest things were having noticeable effects on him; causing bouts of jittery nerves or other obvious mental distractions.
Awhile later Walt came out dressed in a pair of sweatpants, a dark t-shirt, and bare feet. He sat on the coffee table near Vic who was still close to the fire in the rocking chair. She got up and stepped between his knees and kissed him briefly before moving around behind him to brush his hair. She hadn't said anything to him about what she was going to do. He was surprised and leaned forward a ways and turned to look at her; reflexively running a hand through his hair.
"Sorry, I just thought since it was wet this would help it dry faster."
"No. No, no, uhm it's fine, I uh, just wasn't expecting that that's all."
Vic held her hand out to him, "Come here."
Walt took her hand and let Vic lead him to the rocker she had just vacated. He sat down facing the fire and she started to gently brush his hair and fluff it up with her fingers. She noticed he had clearly toweled a good deal of the water out of his hair but it was still damp. As she worked her way from one side, around the back of his head, and over to the other side she realized he had somehow managed to lower his head straight down; she had never seen anyone do that before. The move set his head in a way that prevented it from bobbing about while she brushed. Vic leaned around and peeked at his face. Walt's eyes were closed and his features were completely relaxed, so much so she thought he had fallen asleep. She continued to gently brush and fluff his hair not wanting to stop for fear of waking him. He just looked so peaceful; she couldn't help but continue her attentions to his hair. A few minutes later she made her way around to stand in front of him, she wanted to watch him awhile while he slept. Keeping her movements steady and consistent she stepped carefully between his knees. Vic was startled when she felt Walt's hands on her hips; she hadn't seen him move.
She sucked in a lungful of air as his hands pressed against the robe at the same time he spoke, "Dry yet?"
"Huh? Uhm, yeah, yeah." She started to step back but he pulled her closer.
Walt wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his head lightly to her chest, and quietly requested, "Can we go to bed now?"
"Yep."
Again she started to step back but Walt did not release his hold, "Vic?"
She threaded her fingers through his hair, "Hum?"
"Thank you for coming home with me."
She leaned her head down and kissed his hair, "Let's go ta bed cowboy. It's been a long day."
When she moved he did too, he slipped an arm around her waist and walked with her to the bedroom. Vic untied and removed the robe and Walt hung it back in the closet as he nodded to the bed, "Choose a side, I'm not picky."
Vic stepped out of the slippers and crawled in to the nearest side of the bed. Walt slipped into the bed on the other side and immediately reached for her; she wiggled into his arms, "Walt?"
"Yep?"
"There is nowhere else I'd rather be, than home with you."
He brought the blankets up around her shoulders and held her close, "You gonna be warm enough?"
She hugged his chest, "As long as you're here."
"I'll be here."
She snuggled into him a bit more as he reached to switch off the lamp. It was only a matter of minutes before they both drifted into sound sleep.
Walt woke with a start, he was alone in bed, his body tense and he feared his mind was playing tricks on him again. Reaching over he flipped the light on and scanned the room; he was most definitely alone in the room. Light from the lamp split the threshold to the bathroom; that too was empty. The pleasure of dreams becomes torment in the light of day; their loss disquieting and painfully raw. He threw the covers back, swung his feet to the floor and vaguely noticed he was wearing his sweatpants; a practice he reserved for the depth of winter, not early July. Frustration gnawed at him; he shoved his hands through his hair, around his neck, and drug them back across his jaw. He scrubbed his face and then rubbed eyes with his fingertips before he forced himself to stand up and head for the bathroom. After his immediate morning routine of bladder relief and hand and face washing; he froze when he realized the towel in his hands was new, there was a door on the small room, and he could smell coffee. Coffee? Walt scanned his surroundings again, then spun and looked about his bedroom once more. New cabinet, hamper, towels, sheets; Cady and Henry had been there. The signs of their spring cleaning were clearly evident and there was the coffee too. Was it a dream? Or wasn't it? He followed his nose through the front room where the smell of bacon joined the coffee. A light might have been on in the kitchen, being as late as it was in the morning; it may have only been the sunshine through the window. Purpose moved him forward but disbelief tempered his speed. Walt stepped to the doorway of the kitchen and scanned the room. He could not restrain the rush of air that emotion forced from his lungs; his sigh resonated in the small room.
Vic turned to face him with a smile that faded when she saw his expression, "Walt, are you okay?"
He stared at her, his head ticked one click to the side, his gaze narrowed on her face but he said nothing.
She set the pan with the bacon on an unlit burner and walked over to him, "What is it? What's wrong?"
Still he stared but he could not formulate a sentence; let alone a complete thought.
Vic placed a hand on his arm, "Walt?"
The contact was like being struck by lightning; real, unmistakable, and powerful. Walt pulled Vic into his arms and buried his face in her neck. Her hair and the robe she wore were soft and comforting in their incongruent attempt to smoother him. He drew her close and raised his face to avoid suffocating. Breathing in a steadying breath he spoke in a hushed almost reverent tone, "I thought I dreamt last night; a vivid, beautiful dream that ended with waking to an empty reality." He clung to her as though his life depended on it.
Vic stroked his back, "It wasn't a dream Walt. It happened. I'm here." She said any reassuring thing that popped into her mind. She could feel his head move up and down against hers as he nodded in agreement. After a few minutes she asked, "You have many of those dreams?"
She felt Walt's back muscles tense but he relaxed his embrace. His body language saying a verbal response would not be forthcoming.
When he eased his hold on her Vic turned from him; figuring he needed a little space, "Here let me get you a cup of coffee, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."
She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him, without making eye contact, before returning to the stove to finish fixing breakfast.
Walt sipped his coffee and watched her for a while, allowing the relief to settle in his bones and his mind to sort out his thoughts.
He set his cup down on the table and stepped up behind Vic, wrapping his arms around her waist, "I'm sorry that wasn't a very good good-morning."
"That's okay," she said.
"No it isn't," he replied as he leaned forward slightly to try to kiss her.
Vic said, "I have coffee breath," as she leaned back from him just slightly.
"I'm sorry I've upset you." He said and he started to release his hold on her waist.
She grabbed his hand with one of hers, "You didn't."
He stopped his movements and asked, "Are you sure?"
She said "Of course I'm sure. Why?"
He leaned around again and said softly, "Because I'm trying to give you a good morning kiss and you don't seem to want me to."
"Oh no that's not it! Honestly, I was just concerned with coffee breath."
He gave her a faint smile, "Had my coffee too."
She leaned into him then.
Walt shifted his weight slightly so he was looking her square in the eye and asked, practically in a whisper, "May I kiss you Vic?" The emotion in his eyes, an almost haunted expression, kept her from speaking; she merely nodded her head and then dropped her eyes to his lips.
His kiss was very gently but it spoke to the depth of need inside of him. It was not a sexual need; his heart was open to her and he was clearly showing her his profound vulnerability.
Walt released her lips but kept his arms around her waist as he leaned his head next to hers and asked softly, "What can I do to help?"
"You're doing it," she said and placed her hand back over his at her waist.
"I meant with breakfast."
"Me too. At least for another minute, maybe two, and then you can bring me a couple of plates."
"Okay tell me when."
She leaned back against his chest and shifted side to side a little and purred, "Not yet," causing him to chuckle at her as he drew her closer to him and nuzzled her neck.
Once their served plates were ready Walt set them on the table and turned to envelop Vic in his embrace, "Good morning," he said before he gave her a very slow deep exploring kiss.
"Is that how you always say good morning?"
Walt gave her a look as if to ask 'how long have we known each other?'
Vic smiled, "Right. How many hundreds of mornings have you said good morning to me? And it was never like that."
He looked at her not wanting to mention Lizzie's name but wanting to make sure that Vic knew this was not something he made a habit of; he spoke in a deeply reverent tone, " I haven't said good morning like that since Martha."
His voice had trailed off and was barely a whisper as he said the name.
Vic told him with equal reverence, "Walt I'll never find fault with you talking about Martha, it's not like being divorced. Just because Martha died doesn't mean you quit being her husband. That love, the bond and unity were not suddenly gone because she was." Vic hugged him tightly and added quietly near his ear, "Don't ever be afraid or avoid mentioning Martha. Sharing a memory, even making a comparison with Martha is bound to happen. You're still her husband she will always be your wife."
Walt returned her hug and managed to speak around the lump he felt growing in his throat, "Thank you, Vic."
Vic nodded her head along the side of his. She had to finish what she started or she might never say it at all. With a steadying breath she plowed ahead, "Shit Walt, Sean and I had been fighting a losing battle to try to salvage a marriage we both knew was doomed before we ever got here. With the papers signed I felt relief, less stress, I was single, free, liberated; all positive stuff. But when Martha died all you felt was married and … lost." She squeezed him once more and then changed the subject, "We should eat while it's still hot."
They sat down to eat but Walt had not commented on what she had said beyond the 'thank you' and he had not made eye contact with her since sitting down to the table. So Vic thought she should explain her thinking some. "Look Walt, I didn't mean you haven't moved beyond that or that you haven't learned to be single again it's just that, well you still felt married but you suddenly weren't. That's a lot to deal with and I don't think you should have to give up all that Martha was to you just because we're, well, whatever we are."
He met her eyes, pulling one corner of his mouth back in a small smile when he heard her uncertainty of labeling them, "You suppose we could call us 'a couple'?"
Vic graced him with a broad smile, "Yeah, 'a couple' sounds good to me. You okay with it?"
He ginned back, "Yep."
