Chapter 7

Mags?

The name echoed dully in Ann's head as she stood by her father's bed, trying to process too much information at once. She hardly ever heard her dad use her mother's name, and he had never before made the mistake of calling Ann by it, even with their strong resemblance. But she knew she was not mistaken in what she heard; he had called her Maggie and was now looking at her in a way that felt foreign to her.

She squeezed his hand and looked him in the eyes, trying to hold back more tears.

"No, dad… it's Ann. Your daughter," she gently told him.

He blinked and realization slowly filtered into his eyes. He shook his head. "Oh, Ann. Of course, pumpkin, I'm sorry. It just… for a moment it felt like it was…" he trailed off, looking out at some point in the distance.

From another part of the room, she heard someone lightly clear their throat. She looked around to see Elli at the door, motioning to come over to her. Ann turned back to her father and let go of his hand, whispering that she'd be back in a moment. Then she got up and made her way out of the room and into the hall with Elli.

"Sorry, sweetie… I should have warned you. Your father seems to have suffered a concussion from his fall; it's very normal for a patient to experience some temporary amnesia if they were rendered unconscious at the time of the concussion," she explained. "He'll be confused for a day or so, but don't worry, he will gain all of his long-term memories back."

Ann felt as if a large weight had suddenly been lifted from her chest.

"Oh, thank the goddess. Will he remember how it happened?" she asked, sending a glance back toward him in the room.

Elli chewed her lip. "Hmm, probably not. At least, it's not likely. We already explained it to him when he woke up, as he had no idea what was going on or how he got here. His short-term memory is a different story; he may regain a hazy recollection of the last two days, but it is more probable that he won't remember them at all."

Fleetingly, Ann thought about the impressed look he had given Cliff earlier at the festival, and she felt a small stab of pain to go with it.

"Er, but is that the only problem? I mean, was he hurt otherwise?"

"Well, there's his leg…" Elli gestured toward him, and Ann took notice of the end of a thick protective boot protruding from under the blanket. "His right fibula suffered a break in two places, and he will have to undergo a small realignment surgery later this evening. It isn't dangerous, but he will be confined to bed rest for a minimum of two weeks, and then he will need to walk with crutches for at least three seasons. But it should heal completely with some weekly physical therapy."

Ann took this information in slowly.

"So he'll be unable run the inn…" she said, comprehending with a small amount of panic. Elli nodded sadly.

"I'm sorry, hun, but he needs to stay off it as much as possible. However, after a few weeks he should be able to accomplish limited activities. Duke's in a similar position with a radial fracture, although it's not nearly as severe…"

At Duke's mention, Ann's head snapped back from her father to the clinic hallway. She suddenly remembered that he was also there, in that very clinic, and that he was the one responsible for putting her father in that bed. Her temper flared and she had long stopped listening to the well-meaning nurse. So his arm was indeed broken. Served him right. She wished she could add to his injuries herself, but then she was struck by an even better idea.

She took off down the hallway toward his room without a word, leaving a stunned nurse in her wake. She burst into his room without knocking. Upon seeing the incensed red-head, Manna's and Duke's mouths fell open simultaneously in order to say something.

"I want you to hire Cliff," she blurted before they could protest her arrival.

"Wh-what?" Duke sputtered, obviously taken aback. She noticed he was clutching his right arm, which was in a sling.

"You heard me," she growled, making her way over to his bed and pointing her finger at his face. "You obviously can't pick all those grapes with a broken arm," she continued, trying to seem menacing. "So here's what I'm proposing. You hire Cliff, and you pay him full-time for at least two seasons, with benefits, or else I'm filing a police report on your sorry ass."

He looked taken aback for a moment, and then he sneered at her, unwilling to hear anything she had to say.

"Oh yeah? And how about I file one on you for assault?" he growled back at her.

"Because no one in their right mind would buy that," she replied, cooling down now. "How many witnesses were there in the square now? Including Harris, the town's only officer..."

He had shut up, but he stared daggers at her.

"Fine," he snarled, just above a whisper.

"Hm, what was that?" she said, leaning down toward his ear as if she hadn't heard him.

"I SAID FINE, DAMNIT!" he barked, spittle flying from his mouth. "But I'm not hiring him because of you, I'm hiring him because I'd lose my damn profit otherwise," he continued in defiance.

Manna, who had been sitting eerily silent in the corner up until this point, now spoke up.

"But Duke, honey, can we even afford to—" she began.

"Quiet, Manna. We'll hire the boy, or else the whole year's hard work is down the tube. And he's shown us more reason than her, anyway," he said, looking at Ann. "But he better do a decent job. If he screws up, or if I realize you two are in it together to try and rip me off, I maintain the right to fire him at any time. Got that?"

Ann nodded after a moment's consideration. "Fine. But I'm drawing up a contract later just so you don't try and weasel your way out of anything."

He grunted, and she was satisfied. She turned on her heel and started to head out of the room when he spoke up.

"Oh, and girl," he began, his gruff tone now softening slightly. "Give your old man my apologies."

Ann turned to him nearly in disbelief, but said nothing. She nodded curtly and then left the room.

By the time Ann had made it back to the inn that night around nine o'clock, she was dead tired and her head was pounding. She had stayed with her father up until the moment he was taken in for his realignment surgery, when Elli had urged her to go home and get some rest. She relented, but only because she was exhausted and aching herself, and so she left the clinic with a promise to her father to return the next day.

Karen, Cliff, and Gray were waiting for her at the bar as she entered the inn. She could hear Karen's voice cut off mid-sentence as she turned around to see Ann shuffle through the doorway, looking like a zombie. She was at her side in less than two seconds, giving her a quick hug and checking her over.

"So?" she inquired, her eyes showing her worry. "How is he?"

"He's okay," Ann muttered, just as Gray and Cliff had made it over to her as well. "I mean, he has a concussion. And his leg is broken—" At this, Karen inhaled sharply. "—but no lasting damage. He'll just be off his leg for a few seasons. And I'll have to run the inn by myself for a couple weeks at the very least."

Karen's eyes were wide, and both Cliff and Gray were looking away from her as they took in the news.

"Damn," Karen began, breaking the tepid silence. "Well, I'm off Tuesdays and Sundays, and I can help with the bar on the weekends… I wish I were more available but I have the store—"

"I'll help Thursdays," Gray chimed in. "And in the evenings, after work."

"I'm free all the time," Cliff added. "I can help out whenever you need me."

Ann couldn't help but give a tired smile at the generosity of her friends, yet she felt guilty about the fact that she couldn't remunerate them in any way.

"Thanks, guys. But Karen, you have the store to worry about, and you're busy enough with that as it is," she began. "Although I can use your help with the bar. Gray," she said, now turning to face him. "The old man works you to the point of exhaustion everyday, and I couldn't bear to put more on you. Though I'll gladly accept your help on Thursdays." She now turned to Cliff, hoping to deliver the best news she could of that day. "And actually, Cliff, you're not going to be as free as you might think," she told him, and she saw his look change to confusion. "I got you a job. At the winery. Duke will be paying you full-time for mostly picking grapes and whatnot, as he can no longer do the work himself for the next couple of seasons."

Cliff opened his mouth as if he were about to protest, but Ann held up a hand stubbornly.

"Look, I know you want to help here, and I know it doesn't seem like the best prospect in the world to work for that ass wipe, but the fact is that we can't pay you, and I'd feel too guilty taking advantage of your help without some type of payment. We also need the income, so we can't afford to let you stay and eat here for free. But look at it this way, at least you'll be making money off of Duke's own stupidity. And I can't see any other job opportunity opening up here in town."

After thinking a moment, Cliff nodded, resigned. She felt relief that he didn't argue with her, and hoped that working at the winery wouldn't be terrible. But she couldn't see him staying in Mineral Town any other way, and part of her selfishly couldn't bear the thought of him having to leave.

"So, all by yourself, huh?" Karen asked after a moment, diffusing the tension once again. "Well, if anyone can do it, you can, babe." She cracked a smile, bumping Ann with her shoulder encouragingly.

Ann returned her smile, feeling doubtful, but not seeing any other alternative at the moment. She thanked her friends again and told them she was going to call it a night. Karen gave her one last hug and took her leave. Gray told her to hang in there and left the inn, presumably to go and share the development with Mary. However Cliff lingered behind, waiting until the other two had shut the door behind them before speaking up.

"Thanks, you know," he began, looking slightly stoic but grateful. "I was just about to run out of cash, so…"

He looked off to the side as his words tapered off, and Ann could tell that money, or rather the lack thereof, was a sore topic for him.

"Don't mention it," she replied, brushing it off. "And thanks, you know… for catching me earlier. I mean, I probably would have been in a hospital bed alongside my dad right now if you hadn't…" she said with some color rising in her cheeks. "And then the inn would have really been in trouble."

He smiled at her. "Well, I guess we're even, then."

"Yeah, guess we are," she replied. She stood there, the tired part of her willing her to go to bed, but she couldn't bring herself to say good night just yet.

While she was still debating, Cliff turned to her with a look that showed he was exhausted, too.

"So, you want a beer?" he asked unexpectedly. "On me, of course."

She considered it, then agreed by nodding her head with a resigned sigh. They trudged over to the bar, and she sat on one of the stools while he filled two mugs from the tap, then pulled a bill from his pocket and stuck it in the cash register. He slid a beer over to her, then came around the bar and took up the stool next to her.

"Well, how is everything?" he asked, taking a sip from his mug.

She shook her head, taking a gulp from her own and letting the cool liquid slide down her throat.

"Hm, well, it could have been a lot worse. We're lucky only one leg was broken, and he won't need a wheelchair, but—"

"No, Ann. I meant how is everything with you," he said, looking over at her.

"Oh," she responded, her ears burning. "I guess I'm okay. Tired, though. It was a long day, obviously."

He held his gaze on her as she took another drink and continued to look down at the mug in front of her.

"Well, yeah," he said. "But tell me the truth. Remember how you wanted to be more straightforward? Well, now's the time. Lay it on me."

She laughed in spite of herself. So he remembered.

"Well, I'm miserable, and I don't think I've ever felt as many emotions in one day," she began, letting her last shred of embarrassment die away with a mix of sleepiness and booze. "I thought I'd lost my dad today, for one terrifying moment. And now I'm scared to death of running the inn without him. Oh, and I also lost my shit in front of everyone in town, so there's that. And now, I guess I feel… guilty. I can't get over that. Why do I feel so guilty?" she paused and took a deep breath. "It wasn't even really my fault, but some part of me keeps telling me it was. If I wasn't so damn stubborn…" she trailed off, rubbing her temple in order to stop the pounding in her head that had started up again.

"Listen, Ann," Cliff began after a moment, realizing she had finished. "No way in hell was this your fault. But it's natural to feel guilty, I guess. You were involved. But you didn't cause anything. So stop beating yourself up."

"But if I had just brought another ingre—"

"–no, it has nothing to do with what you brought. Duke's an alcoholic. Trust me, I've seen it before. He was just looking for some excuse to erupt."

"Still, I gave him that excuse."

Cliff put his hand on her shoulder. She ceased rubbing her temple.

"Ann, stop it. It's not your fault," he continued, his eyes boring into her. "You can't change what happened. There's no use in asking 'what if?' and driving yourself insane. It was an accident, you know? They happen."

"All right," she said, giving in. "Fine. Not my fault, I guess."

She finally let herself look at him, and he was smiling softly at her.

"And as for the inn," he continued, "you're going to do one hell of a job."

He raised his mug to her, and she clinked it with her own, finally returning his smile.

"Thanks," she said, feeling much better than she had since the festival. She drank down the rest of her beer then refilled her mug, letting the liquid comfort her. After a few minutes where the two sat reflecting in silence, sipping their drinks, she began to feel more brave.

"You know, I didn't really like you when you first came here," she admitted after draining her second beer.

"Oh really? I didn't notice," he said sarcastically, smirking at her.

She hit him playfully on the arm.

"Ha! Ok, well, you weren't exactly the type we were used to seeing around here," she continued.

"And what 'type' would that be exactly? Duke?"

"Well, no," she admitted, wondering at that herself. "But something about you just seemed so, I dunno, dark. Mysterious, maybe. Which I guess I mistook for threatening," she said, chuckling a little.

He gave a small laugh in return. "Hmm, yeah, all right. But wait, aren't dark, brooding guys supposed to be sexy?"

She cocked an eyebrow and shook her head. "Not when they're this cocky," she shot back, and he feigned being stabbed in the heart.

"Well, there goes my whole persona," he laughed.

She smiled and then suddenly turned serious, furrowing her brow and staring at the wooden surface of the bar.

"Cliff?"

"Yeah?"

Ann chewed her lip and then turned to face him.

"Why do you want to stay in Mineral Town?" she asked. She was feeling particularly brave and couldn't pass it up.

He looked down into his mug, tracing the glass rim with the tip of his finger.

"Well," he began, taking a breath. "I dunno, really. Something about it reminds me… of a place I lived when I was really young," he said, his brow furrowing and causing a shadow to fall over his eyes.

Ann's heart fell a little. She had been hoping for another reason, but what did she expect him to say? Because of her?

"Oh," she answered, trying not to let her disappointment show through. "I see."

"And the people aren't bad, either," he said, looking at her and smiling. Her heart did a little back flip in her chest. "Well, most of 'em, anyway…"

She laughed, not knowing how to respond, and took another drink.

They continued talking until Ann was halfway through her fourth beer, and her vision was starting to swim. The mixture of exhaustion, lack of food, and alcohol was starting to heavily take its toll on her, and she was starting to think that even the prospect of staying up and talking to Cliff was losing its allure. He was saying something, but she couldn't focus on what it was without her head drooping onto her arm and her eyelids sliding closed.

It wasn't until she was already in her bed that she had realized that Cliff had carried her there and was now pulling the blankets over her. She wanted to thank him, to let him know how much everything he had done meant to her, but her mind couldn't formulate the words and her tongue couldn't express them.

"You have a good father, you know," he said gently as he took her bow out of her hair, letting her braid loosen and come undone.

She nodded weakly. "Mmmhmm," she said. "What… what about, y-yooour's?" she asked as she let out a big yawn and turned over on her side to face him.

His face was turned away from her, and she could see his profile in the dim light as he seemed to quietly consider her question.

"Well, I don't really think of myself as having a father," he answered simply. And then he turned to her, and she could see his eyes soften even as she looked up at him in the dark. "Anyway, you should get some sleep," he said, setting her ribbon on the table next to her and turning to leave.

She wanted to give in to his request, to let her eyes shut and her mind turn off, but she was suddenly struck with the realization that she would be alone after he left, and it terrified her.

"Cliff," she called anxiously as he was nearing the door. "Um, can you stay… until I do?"

He nodded and made his way back over to her. He sat on the edge of the bed, a few inches away from her.

"G'night," she mumbled, turning over on her back and feeling instantly comforted.

"Good night, Ann," he replied.

Her last recollection was the soft touch of his hand moving the hair from her face as she drifted off to sleep.

AN: Well, couple things.

I guess I wrote this song a teensy bit more... fluffish... then I had intended, 'cause I was listening to the Love Actually soundtrack while I wrote it, and... argh. I hope it wasn't too terrible.

Second, I couldn't for the life of me think of a good one-word title for this chap. Anyone got any suggestions?

Thanks to those who reviewed, and those who are silently reading. ;)