To Laugh Again
FAN FICTION EMERGENCY-
Note: the stories Joe tells to Lynnette really were on some of the episodes I've watched.
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Scene 8
"Dad, what were you thinking arguing with Samantha when she wanted to get you help?" Lynnette stood by Edgar's bedside along with Joe.
"I just figured I'd overworked myself." Admitting it was more hadn't been on Edgar's top priority list until Joe had ordered him to listen to Samantha.
"And what would you have done if Joe and I weren't home? We could have easily decided to stay elsewhere." Lynnette put one hand on the railing and the other on her hip.
"Considering everything, where else would you two have been?" Edgar chose selective hearing with his reply.
"That's not the point." Lynnette's jaw set hard. "Tell me, what would you have done?"
"Been up a creek without a paddle?" He pretended to ask a question and was met with a glare, causing him to lift up his hands in resignation. "Okay, okay, I'll listen to Samantha next time."
"Won't give you a choice next time," Samantha declared as she walked in the room. "I'll just call station 51 instead of wasting my breath." She held up a piece of paper and grinned. "Johnny gave me the number." Edgar said nothing.
"Seeing as how your father is in good hands, let's slip out of here before anyone comes up with a reason for me to stay." Joe turned to Lynnette, who willingly concurred.
"Once Kel releases you, I'll swing by the house to see if you are listening to doctor's orders and to Samantha. Serious options will be discussed if you aren't." His daughter promised him it was no idle threat.
"Yes, Mother." Edgar grinned as Lynnette made a face, but then joined Joe in heading out of his room.
"Joe and Lynnette, what are you two doing here?" Dixie came towards the couple heading down the hallway. As soon as the question came out of her mouth a no-duh expression raced across her face. "Your father, right?"
"Yes, Ma'am." Lynnette gave Dixie the most apologetic expression she could muster. "Sorry if Dad is being a pain."
"I've dealt with worse." The head nurse then shooed them out the door.
With the hospital behind them, Joe took Lynnette to a local dance hall he'd frequented regularly since his late wife's death. Lights fully lit the dance hall and people of all ages gathered around tables chatting. A few hands waved Joe's way when he came through the door with Lynnette on his arm. "People seem to know you here. How often do you come anyway?" Lynnette asked as yet one more person called out his name.
"Every Friday night, and quite a few Saturday mornings. The ones I don't work anyway. My attendance has dropped lately due to my getting caught up with you." Then he grinned. "But since you dance I think we can get that set that date back into place."
"You're on." Lynnette loved the idea of having date nights that continued after the wedding.
"Kristopher, Jeanette, Hillary and Paul, this is Lynnette - my wife." Joe kept his arm around Lynnette as if to say 'don't try to take her, she's mine'.
"Joe, I think you just sent more than one heart dropping to the floor." Kristopher rubbed his short, well-kept, speckled beard as he chuckled and slightly tilted his head towards a group of white-haired women at the table who were now bemoaning the fact the widower they'd had their eyes on was sporting a wedding ring on his finger and a wife on his arm. Just then the music began to play.
"Let's go." Joe easily gathered Lynnette into his arms as he began to dance.
Lynnette had forgotten what it was like to be dancing on the arm of someone with flesh and blood and it felt a lot better than dancing around the house holding a mop. Joe's footsteps seemed natural to follow and his humor was great. He proved it by telling her about the times he 'lifted' a curse from some patient convinced their conditions were beyond medical reach. He also explained how Dixie's toe had been busted by an x-ray machine rolling over it. "Dr. Brackett and I said we thought we might need to amputate and Kel called it a hit and run."
"That's just too funny." Lynnette wished she'd been in the room when Dixie was being looked at by the men.
Turning off the storytelling, Joe began unashamedly flirting with Lynnette through the dances he did. Whether they were doing the tango, fancy- footing it to a salsa, or simply matching their footsteps to a calm waltz, his face never left hers. Through his moves Lynnette knew her words at been taken literally, and could not blame him for not covering up how he felt.
"I think I need a break." Lynnette spoke between heavy breaths as they finished up yet another fast-paced dance.
"That's an order the doctor can fill." Joe smiled and showed Lynnette to 'his' table.
"So, who's the pretty lady?" A man with short black hair and matching beard stopped at the table and leaned slightly forward. His dark eyes were not inviting and Joe saw Lynnette fold her hands on her lap and felt her increase the pressure of her shoulder against his.
"Charles, this is Lynnette…my wife." Joe shot his steady gaze straight at the man's inappropriately drooling eyes.
"Oh." The man instantly stood straight. "No one told me you were getting remarried. I didn't get an invite." The man lifted his hand to his heart - as if that act alone would convince anyone he was sincerely hurt.
"We kept it small." Joe looked at him and didn't bother telling him that there had actually been close to one hundred guests.
"Anyhow, congratulations. I can't stick around; I see some other new people I wish to welcome." With that the man walked away as if sweeping a large cape behind him.
"Are you sure he doesn't have pointy teeth and suck blood?" Lynnette asked as she let out a huge breath.
"Yes, I am, but promise me one thing all the same." Joe lifted his wine glass.
"What's that?" Lynnette lifted her own.
"Don't invite him to my funeral." Joe's own shoulders shuddered of their own accord.
"Only if you promise not to let him come to mine if I go first." Lynnette fought against her skin crawling against that particular thought.
Joe and Lynnette decided to leave before Charles could return to torture them. The building cried when the couple left as if saying, 'Thanks, now I have to deal with the creep on my own.' It received no sympathy from either one.
With dancing over with for the day, Joe drove Lynnette to his favorite part of the beach. Should anyone desire to go bare-footed, the sand wasn't too rough. And it wasn't too crowded during the day - evening hours were a whole different ball game. Lynnette delighted Joe by declaring his spot gorgeous.
"No wonder you like to come here." Lynnette slipped off her shoes and walked with them in hand. "Did you and Carrie used to come here?" No hints of jealousy laced her tongue.
"Yes, with our friend Rue and her late husband, Brad." The two found a deserted picnic table and sat down to keep it company. "We'd come every spring, summer, and fall." Joe chuckled. "I think my Carrie and Rue would sneak down here in the winter too."
"How long were you and Carrie married?" Lynnette straddled the bench she was sitting to face Joe, who was looking out over the ocean as a gentle breeze brushed along the side of her face.
"Twenty-five years." Joe thought Lynnette's nervous habit of designing figures with just her hand on any flat surface was due to uncertainty of him being ready to be remarried. "I assure you, I am past any grieving stage and am ready to put that part of my life behind me." The smell of the ocean's salt was ignored as he kept his mind on the woman sporting his ring.
"It's not that." Lynnette twisted her lips and wasn't surprised when he once again laid his hand over her moving one.
"What is it then?" Puzzlement shone on the man's face.
"I…" Lynnette's volume went down and a long slow breath came out of her mouth. "I wasn't lying when I told you, Kel and Dixie I couldn't care less about the talk going on about us, but.." Her hand wanted to move, but Joe's stayed in place as he prompted her to go on. "Everyone's yakking I can ignore, but I'm having difficulty with one in particular."
Joe asked if her father was one, and she shook her head no. "Well, who is it then?" His gut instinct told him who it was, but still he waited for her to hand out the name.
"Rue." Lynnette looked back up at him. "She didn't exactly say it, but I can tell she seems to think I'm not being fair to you. She even asked me not to make you wait a year. And your actions today at the dance hall did back up my father's opinion, so..." Unconsciously, the woman let the sentence hang in mid-air as she held her breath.
Joe sat a little straighter and then straddled the bench himself. "I love Rue like I would my own sister, and - bless her - she really does do what she thinks is right, but this is one time she should have kept her big mouth shut." His free hand kept Lynnette from lowering her gaze. "What you said about my actions while dancing is true, but you are not being unfair. I was the one that suggested a year. What time table you decide to come join me in my bed is totally up to you." His eyes remained soft, but darkened in sincerity. "Lynnette…" His tone took on the one he used to reassure his patients they were getting the best care he could give them. "I don't want you lying next to me or touching me in that manner unless you want it one hundred five percent." His eyebrows raised a little and he tacked on, "Put Rue into the same category as everyone else, especially when it comes to the way we run our religious marriage - and the legal one we will have. Got it?"
"Got it." Any nervousness which had been hanging around blew off with the wind which had picked up.
"Let's go see if we can find any 'treasures' before the wind gets too harsh." Joe kept hold of Lynnette's hand as he spoke and they both rose. "I always carry around two sacks. One for junk and the other for anything good uncovered. I seldom find much of anything, but it's a very good way to unwind."
Treasure hunting turned out to be more enjoyable then Lynnette had thought. They found the normal junk like bottle caps, paper sacks with leftover lunch and broken bottles which automatically went into the bag labeled garbage, but they also found "goodies" like unbroken sand dollars, sea shells, and even a thin - genuine - golden chain with no name on it.
"That looks like a pretty high-end piece of jewelry." Lynnette studied the item. "Guess we best turn it in to the nearest police station." Joe agreed and looked at his watch.
"How about lunch? And then we go swimming? I happen to know of a pool that is readily available." Joe was talking of the one at his own house.
"You're on." Lynnette willingly took his hand as he led her to the most comfortable, hidden, diner in which to eat their lunch.
OOOOOOO
Scene 9
"Open that quart of paint and put it on that wall, and Joe will break every bone in your body," Lynnette sternly told her stepmother who insisted faded pink was a good color for the dining room.
Samantha let out an irritated sound before spouting off, "It would impossible for him to do that."
"Oh, and why is that?" Lynnette leaned her hand against the wall and shot her a kindergarten teacher's look.
"Because, by the time you got finished with me, all he'd have access to was my corpse." Samantha grabbed the bucket and asked with annoyance in her voice as she began climbing the stairs, "Is the guest bedroom across from Joe's still okay to touch?"
"Of course, just leave his room alone." Lynnette had promised him that, no matter how much redecorating she did, his door would stay shut.
"Oh, if I must." Samantha was curious as her stupid mutt to know what was behind that wooden door, but even she wasn't crazy enough to mess with someone else's house. While her stepmother was having to settle for redoing the guest room, Lynnette turned her attention to the details of the rest of the redesigning of the house.
All the brass in the front room was being labeled for a garage sale even though there really wasn't all that much. An end table, a lamp, and one clock. The only exception was one with tiny little roses under it's glass dome shaped cover. The fireplace with white brown brick all around it would only be sporting porcelain knickknacks and the miniature grandfather clock given Lynnette by Rue. The front room would then be pretty much all wood; even the comfortable couch was outlined in the stuff.
The front room may not have had much to be labeled, but the downstairs? Oh, that was a nightmare. No wonder Joe had admitted to ignoring it for so long. It wasn't just one end table that was glass and brass, it felt like the whole room was. The knickknacks, the shelves, the clocks… crud the couch was too - okay, so that was an exaggeration, but as shiny as its arms were, it might as well have been. Tackling the job was no pleasurable dream.
Both women got so busy they'd have forgotten to fix dinner, only Edgar called and asked what he was supposed to cook. "That man can't make toast." Samantha put on her coat. "I best get home so he doesn't burn the place down."
As Samantha walked out the door, Lynnette went into the kitchen. She'd been so busy she'd forgotten to pull any meat out to thaw. Thankfully, it just wasn't her views on marriage she'd picked up from her mother. The skill of knowing fast meals was another. A simple casserole which looked as if someone had slaved hours to make was slapped together and was just being pulled out of the oven when Joe walked in the door from a twelve-hour shift.
"Mmmm, smells good." The man walked over to the table and sat down where Lynnette had just set the dish. Lynnette joined him as he said grace and then dug in herself.
"Johnny called earlier. He said something about a party tomorrow night at station 51 for Cap. Asked if we'd be there. I told him I would, but that I couldn't give any guarantees on you." Lynnette spoke between bites of food.
"Yeah, I heard about that at the hospital. I was going to call him and tell him the same thing." A wife having to make plans that didn't involve her husband, even though she hoped he would be able to come, had always been a downside to working in the medical profession - so Joe had always thought.
The meal was filled with either Joe letting off steam about having to treat 'crackpots', as he called the cases where Kel had to come and ask him to pretend to lift curses, or Lynnette telling him about Samantha's wanting to paint the whole house crème-colored pink.
"Crème-colored pink? The whole house?" Joe visibly shuddered. "Praise be, you only let her do the guest room in that color."
After the meal was over, Lynnette cleared off the table while Joe went downstairs to watch TV. However, it did not take long for her to join him on the couch to watch "The Waltons", which brought on Lynnette's question of how many children Joe and Carrie had wanted. "At least four, not too sure about seven." Joe chuckled as Lynnette let out an 'Amen'.
Joe then turned Lynnette's question back on to her. "So, were the three you had the amount you wanted?"
"No," She admitted, not realizing how her face fell at the answer. "But with the way things turned out, I guess it was for the best." She then turned her attention back to the scene being played out on the screen.
Lynnette did not realize how tired she was and fell asleep within minutes. First her head began to tip to the side and then Joe found it resting on his shoulder. He couldn't help but allow a mile-wide grin to spread itself across his face as she next turned in her sleep and laid an arm across his stomach. Turning his own face back to the television set, he lifted his arm and put it around her shoulder before getting comfortable enough to watch the rest of the show.
Patience, Joe, patience is going to pay off. With that thought in mind, Joe ended up falling asleep himself before the show was over.
