Author's Note: In this chapter, Grace's family speak a bit of Hindi. 'Mami' means aunt. 'Betta' (pronounced bet-ha) is an endearment which means, roughly, 'my dear child'. Thanks again for your reviews!
The car pulled up in his driveway and Neil hurried to the door, yanking it open.
"Dad!" the familiar young voice of his boy echoed out of his mother's car window.
"Hey, laddie," Neil moved to his son's door, opening it. His heart panged as he watched how carefully Jake got out. Thanks to the medications he was on, as well as the illness itself, his son's joints ached, making him move like an old man. In Neil's mind, Dr Lawson's promise that it would cease couldn't be fulfilled quickly enough.
Jake threw his arms around his father, tucking his head into Dad's neck and breathing in his familiar smell. He'd gotten used to spending a lot of time with his dad while in hospital and speaking on the phone to him over the week hadn't seemed sufficient.
"Missed you, son," Dad's quiet voice sounded in his ear.
"Missed you more," Jake told him, drawing back to give and receive a peck on the cheek and one of Dad's prized almost-smiles that made his eyes go all warm and smiley.
"Hi, Pippa," Neil got back to his feet, greeting his ex-wife courteously with a peck on the cheek. "Coffee?
"Yes please, Neil," Philippa Pearson smiled at her former husband. Despite their best attempts to avoid each other, Neil had simply fallen asleep at Jake's bedside too many times during the course of the first phase for them to have been successful in ignoring each other. After a few awkward encounters, they'd each been surprised to find while it still hurt, the memory of a five-year old anguish paled into insignificance next to that of watching their son lie close to death on a hospital bed. They'd healed.
"Go on in, I'll bring the lad's bags ," he told her, unloading the small suitcase and backpack from the boot of the car. Jake reached out for his backpack, before helping his dad close the boot.
Jake immediately rushed upstairs to put his things away, giving Neil a moment alone with Philippa in the kitchen.
"I've been seeing someone," Neil said quietly, setting the kettle on.
"Oh," was all the response he got, so he turned around. Conflicting emotions spread across his ex-wife's face. "Sorry, it's just…"
"Weird," Neil finished with a nod.
"What's she like?" Pippa asked after a brief, awkward silence.
"She's, uh," the small goofy smile cut her deeply, even though they'd been officially over for five years (unofficially, far longer than that, if Pippa was honest with herself) and she'd been remarried for two. "She's something special. Puts up with me."
"What's her name?" Pippa pried.
"Grace," Neil told her. "We, uh…we work together. Have done for three years now."
Another stab at her heart, and she resolutely pushed down the memory of a much-younger, anguished Neil telling her he wanted them to have the warmth and intimacy he'd had with another woman.
"Oh," she said again, taking a moment to prepare herself for the answer that would hurt the most. "Are you planning…are you planning on introducing her to Jake?"
It was a huge relief when Neil shook his head, but his next words crushed the foolish hope that maybe it was a fling. He never had flings – it was all or nothing for him.
"Not yet," he said. "I want Jake settle in a bit first."
"So this doesn't change anything for you?" Philippa asked, thinking to the custody agreement they'd hashed out on the phone over the last few weeks. It had hurt, but it was essentially a reversal of the previous agreement: Jake would live with Neil in England after the consolidation therapy concluded and she returned to Spain. She'd get him for holidays, and have access any time she chose to come up for the weekend. The trickiest stage was managing the transition, but they'd eventually agreed to above all be flexible with weekdays – with Neil working, he couldn't very well take custody of Jake who needed someone at home. Still, Neil had been eager to look after him on weekends, a condition she readily agreed to as she needed a break. But when this had been discussed, Neil had made no mention of Grace.
"Of course not," he said quickly and firmly. "He's the most important person in my life, just as he's the most important in yours. Grace knows about him, she's okay with him, and if it gets to a case where Jake's not okay with her or she's not okay with him, he comes first."
The strained conversation was interrupted by the slow thump of their son's footsteps as he entered the kitchen, settling himself on one of the stools and demanding a hot chocolate.
"Mami!" Anjali beamed as she opened the door. "Mum, it's mami!"
"Let her in, Anji," her sister yelled from somewhere in the back of the house.
"Hi, Anji," Grace said, giving her niece a warm hug. "How are you? How's school?"
"Good and lame," was her response as Anji stood back, letting her aunt through the door. "Mum's in the kitchen with Ravi. Priya went out with some friends."
Grace shut the door behind her and made straight for the kitchen. Her sister stood there, finishing up breakfast for her nephew. Ravi was six, and judging by the mess on his face, he'd had a big breakfast of a great many things covered liberally in tomato sauce.
"Hi Anita," Grace said. "Hey Ravi!"
"Mami," Ravi grinned at her, moving towards her to hug her but a sharp word from his mother stopped him.
"Hai," she chided. "You're covered in tomato sauce! Wash before giving her a hug."
Ravi sheepishly ran to the bathroom, and Anita threw her hands in the air.
"My mad brood aside," she said with a laugh, hugging her sister. "How are you, Gracie? That boss of yours still giving you a rough time?"
Grace hesitated. This was going to be a long conversation.
"It's complicated," she said, drawing back from the embrace.
"Oh god, you haven't slept with him, have you?" Anita shrieked with a mixture of horror at the implications and utter glee at the potential for drama in her older, responsible and usually steady sister's life.
"Anita!" Grace hissed, blushing. "No I haven't."
Anita eyed her sister sharply.
"Why do I have a feeling there's a 'yet' at the end of that sentence?" she sighed, moving to the kettle and brewing tea. "No, no, this will be a long conversation. We'll have it in the garden."
Away from the kids, Grace acknowledged as Ravi ran back into the kitchen, wrapping himself around her legs.
"Hello, betta," Grace greeted him warmly. "How are you?"
"Good!" Ravi said. "My teacher's put me up a reading grade this week!"
"Well done!" Grace said to this proud announcement.
"Ravi, Mami and I are going to talk now in the garden. Go and put your plate away, then you can play," Anita told him. Ravi nodded.
"Okay," he said, running back out of the kitchen.
"Ravi!" her sister raised her eyes heavenward. "Plate, ha?"
Ravi sheepishly turned back, putting his plate in the sink, before rushing out again. Grace repressed laughter, accepting the cup of tea from her sister and following her out to the garden.
"All right, Gracie," her sister said after a moment. "Tell Aunty Annie everything!"
"He asked me out," Grace said, tracing the pattern on her teacup.
"And you said yes," Anita surmised correctly. "After weeks of moaning to me about what an ass he's been to you and you say yes?"
"His son had, has, leukaemia," Grace told her, and her sister's critical glare changed abruptly. "Jake went into remission on Monday…Neil told us all on Tuesday and apologised. Then he asked me on a date."
"Dating your boss," Anita said quietly. "That's…Anushri, that's dangerous territory."
The use of her 'Indian name' cut, as it was intended to, reminding Grace that while their Father was somewhat flexible, at heart he was a traditional man.
"I know," Grace said, pushing down a stab of anger. Anita was simply being a concerned sister and couldn't know how much she'd agonised about asking Neil out. "We're taking it slowly. It took him till Thursday to kiss me. I just…I can't talk about it with anyone from work, obviously."
Anita nodded approvingly, her sisterly concern mollified for the moment. Her mind turned to the gossipy angles.
"Well, then, tell me about him," she urged. When Grace hesitated, she rolled her eyes. "Come on, you're absolutely dying to, and with three kids, I need to live vicariously!" Grace laughed, before settling back more comfortably and doing what she had indeed been wanting to do for a while: gush stupidly about Neil Manson.
"What were you and Mum talking about?" Jake's question broke the companionable silence. The three of them had had coffee, in Jake's case, hot chocolate, and discussed the new living arrangements before Pippa had left to catch her flight to Spain. Jake was now seated on the kitchen counter swinging his legs into the cabinet as Neil prepared some cheese and tomato sandwiches to be toasted for lunch. "Before I came into the kitchen."
Despite the inconvenience and embarrassment it often brought, Neil felt a surge of pride in his son's perceptiveness. He remained quiet for a moment, trying to think of the best way to introduce the topic, having not anticipated his son would bring up Grace before he'd had a chance to tell him.
"After we got the news on Monday," he smiled at his son, who returned it broadly. The news of Jake's remission was still treasured and somewhat surreal. "I did something that I had been too scared to do before you got sick. While you were sick just wasn't the right time…" he paused again, trying to say it in a way that would make sense.
"What did you do, Dad?" his son's impatient voice interrupted him.
"I asked a lady I like a lot out on a date," Neil answered, deciding simple and honest was the best way to go as he regarded his son's face closely, eager for his reaction.
