I do not own Grey's Anatomy… If I had, it would have been an AWESOME season.
Japril: From A to Z
Chapter 10: Just Like You
I stood at the back of the auditorium and peered out over the mass of heads in front of me in search of one particular individual.
As usual, I was running behind. I had promised her that I wouldn't be late, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint her. She was my world and I to think that I would let her down yet again would be soul crushing. For the past few months, I'd let my work take precedence and it was affecting our relationship. I had taken on a multitude of responsibilities and my plate was indeed full. I was still head of the board at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, Chief of Plastics, completing my trial for spray on skin, taking on a greater role within the foundation, jetting to Boston several times a month and all the while, still handling cases and performing surgeries. These duties had come at the expense of my romantic life and most importantly, the time I spent with Harriet.
As if the thought of her alone conjured her image, I saw a small hand waving at me in the distance. Releasing April's hand, she sprinted toward me, a wide smile on her face that brought me joy. She was happy to see me and that's all I ever wanted from her.
"Hi, daddy," she gleefully says as she leapt into my open arms.
"Hey, peanut," I respond as I reward her with a series of sloppy wet kisses all over her face.
Giggling, she braces her hands on my face, "You came."
"Of course, I came. You think I would miss this special day? My Peanut is graduating from kindergarten. What kind of daddy would I be if I didn't show up?"
"A bad daddy," she says with complete honesty, her smile fading away.
I know I've let her down a lot lately. Missed activates, rushed skype calls and traded nights with April when Harriet was supposed to be at home with me. I don't know how it had all gotten so complicated. It started out slowly, an agreement to take on a case here, stepping in for my mother for a meeting there. At this stage, I felt like everything could come tumbling down on me if I didn't take stock of what was most important in my life and for me, one of those people was Harriet.
Just as I was about to reassure her that I had no intention of bailing on her today, April, the woman who had played the most influential and significant role in my life the last seventeen years appeared before us.
"Jackson, hey," she begins and frankly, I feel a bit awkward.
April and I hadn't seen each other, face to face in months. Harriet attended Seattle's prestigious Bush School, which was equidistant between my and April's new place of employment and we split our time equally with her. When it was my turn to have her, I'd pick her up from afterschool care on Friday evening and we'd alternate weekly as per our agreement.
Four years ago, April left Grey Sloan to pursue her own dreams. The day she came to me and told me that she had taken another position, I felt like the floor had caved in and I would go crashing to the depths below. My immediate thought was that she was going to take Harriet away from me and we would have to arrange some complicated custody agreement which would cause another riff in our relationship.
April had been going through a tough time for months prior to her announcement, but had come through the fire, stronger than ever. I had seen her at the beginning of her spiral and had asked her a few times what was wrong and if there was anything I could do, but she spurned me at every request. I admit, I didn't try hard enough, but in the end, she hadn't needed me at all. Sure, that revelation was a bit disconcerting as I had been her go to person for years. Even after the divorce, we'd lived together, co-parenting Harriet and April had helped me during one of the most difficult experiences of my life, confronting my father, Robert. After that fateful trip to Montana, things between us had morphed once again. We'd rekindled our sexual relationship which I now realize was a huge mistake. It wasn't that I didn't care and thought that it was casual, but truthfully, I couldn't define what it meant to me.
April always held a special place in my heart, regardless of what we were going through, so when we sat down on the couch that night and she told me that she couldn't do this anymore, I was speechless. The thoughts that bombarded me were overwhelming.
What should I have done? What was I supposed to have said? Did she hate me for not defining what we were? Did she not care about me anymore? And what did this business with Maggie have to do with her final decision to move out? Too many questions and not enough answers had been forthcoming, so I accepted my fate, and to make her happy, I didn't stand in her way.
That was the beginning of a tumultuous year for her and of my romantic relationship with Maggie. I often wondered, what role my decision to date her had to play in April's depression, if any. Though I secretly wanted her to show jealously at the fact I'd pursued the woman she told me I had a crush on, her casual response regarding the situation had bruised my ego. Sure, she'd made some snide remarks to me regarding our dating, but I attributed that to the crisis she was dealing with. Once she'd come through the worst of it, I confessed to her that Maggie and I had begun seeing one another and to my surprise, she was glad for me. To say I was shocked isn't an exaggeration. I don't know how I expected her to respond, but that wasn't it.
To say I knew April well was an understatement. We had lived, learned, and loved for fourteen years by then, so I knew all her subtleties. I knew that when she chewed her bottom lip, she was thinking deeply about a situation. I knew when she twirled her hair, she was being wistful. Often conjuring up images of happier times in her life. One's that usually involved me, and I hadn't seen her do that in quite some time. Then there were her eyes. The eyes that I knew as well as I knew my own. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul and if that's the case, then April's are the Rose window of the Norte Dame Cathedral in Paris.
I'd looked into those eyes when they were worried about passing the intern exam and board certification. I'd glanced at those eyes when we were across from each other in the operating room and they'd offer me silent encouragement because no one else knew but her that I was unsure. I'd peered into those eyes when they were hurt or angry after having to deal with unfair comments and teasing from our co-workers. I'd glared into those eyes when she came back from Jordan a second time and when she failed to tell me she was pregnant after we signed the divorce papers and the rage I'd felt I could barely contain had almost consumed me. I gazed lovingly into those eyes when she said I do when we eloped and when she lay beneath me all those times I worshiped her as we made love. So, I knew those eyes and when she told me essentially to go be with Maggie and all that those eyes presented was absolution, I was gutted.
Did I need her to say I was making a mistake? Did I want her to tell me that she still had feelings for me? To be candid, I didn't know what I wanted. What I did know was that she had released me from any obligations to her heart. She and I had gone through the ringer and it seemed we had finally moved on. Well, at least one of us had. I'd never tell anyone, let alone her that I still loved her, and I always would, but for whatever reason, we just didn't work, and it was time for both of us to move on apparently.
April was currently head of trauma at Northwest Hospital and Medical Center on the other side of town. Her schedule was just as grueling as mine it seemed as she'd managed through her tenacity and arduous work ethic to make Northwest the number one trauma center in the state of Washington and a model emergency room facility throughout the country. A fact that had ruffled many a feather at her former place of employment, yet secretly filled me with prideful joy. April had always been underestimated and that she had struck out on her own and prevailed was a big ole fuck you to everyone who had considered her second rate or counted her out, and yes, sometimes that included me. And though I couldn't voice my delight that she had succeeded in board or staff meetings, let alone have our peers catch wind of my enjoyment that she'd essentially won, I kept the secret close to the vest.
But today wasn't about the past. Today we were here to celebrate our little girl moving on to the first grade. I know, the entire event may seem silly, but this was a milestone in all our lives and I wouldn't have missed it for all the money in my bank account.
"Hey, April, how have you been?" I ask her.
I truly did want to know how she was doing. The mother of my children. My former person. My former best friend. My former lover.
Scrambling for me to lower her from my hold, I set Harriet on the ground.
"I've been good. Thanks for asking," she says. That same wide bright smile that I remembered gracing her delicate features on display, "Things at the hospital are going well. I've implemented a new intake procedure that I believe will be even more time saving and cost effective for the hospital and patients alike. I've been looking at a new property over on Roosevelt that's more spacious than where we live now. Oh, and Alice just had a new baby. It's a boy. She named him Caleb and he is the cutest thing I've ever seen. Well, besides Harriet of course."
I recognize that nervousness as she rambles on about topics that aren't relevant to what I'm really asking, but those she probably feels safest to share with me. What I really want to know is if she's seeing anyone. Not that the information has any bearing on the proceedings we're about to engage in, but still, I'm captivated. I think this is the first time we've been together that we've both been single since she departed. Not that it would matter to her. I just find it interesting.
By the time April left, Maggie and I had only begun dating and we'd dated off and on for the last three and a half years. We'd finally called it quits six months ago when she'd given me an ultimatum. Either I proposed to her or I let her go. So, I let her go. Don't get me wrong, I loved her, but I couldn't see myself spending the rest of my life with her. Frankly, she wasn't the one.
Maggie was a good person. She was sweet and had a child-like enthusiasm that she couldn't alter if she wanted to. In the beginning of our courtship, I found it cute, but as the years ticked on, it began to grate my nerves. She was smart, no doubt and she was a good surgeon, but I'd be lying if all the whispers I'd heard over the years hadn't played a part as well.
Maggie's biological father Richard, who was wed to my mother, Catherine. They had married years before we'd gotten together which technically made us step-siblings and our union had been the gossip of the hospital until this day. I ignored a lot of the side-eyes, the laughter, and the turned-up noses, but it did upset me when I'd hear our so-called friends making jokes behind our backs. The worse occasions came when we were out with our parents at functions and galas, then we'd have to look as their faces cringed in confusion at our family ties. In the end, Maggie and I remained friends and learned how to work together without incident, but the separation was the best thing that happened to us.
This put me in the predicament I was in now. Recently, my thoughts have been straying increasingly toward memories of the days I'd spent with April. I had let my feelings for her lie dormant while I was with Maggie because I felt I'd be cheating if I acknowledged, let alone verbalized them. Now that I was unattached, I spent countless nights longing to hear her laugh, to see her smile, to feel her touch and tonight, after the ceremony, I hoped to tell her how I felt.
"I'm so happy to hear that it's going well for you," I tell her. I want to say more but now's not the right time as Harriet's eyes stare up at me with curiosity and embarrassing myself in front of my five-year-old is not on the agenda.
"I saved us some seats near the front, so we can take plenty of pictures," she informs me.
She crouches down to adjust Harriet's cap and gown as we see the other graduates begin to assemble back stage. She kisses her forehead and ushers her along to catch up with her classmates. Just as Harriet is out of earshot, I start to open my mouth, not exactly sure what is going to come out of it when a man whom I don't know, walks up behind April, braces his hands around her waist and busses her on the cheek.
"Hey, sweetie. I made it," he says, and I wince internally.
April turns to greet him and gives him a big hug and the only thing I can think is, who the hell is this asshole?
The interloper in question is several inches shorter than me, looks to be in his late thirties and though I hate to admit it, is pretty good looking. Not as good looking as me of course, but still.
"Jackson, I'd like you to meet Dr. Fisher Court. Fisher, this is Harriet's father, Dr. Jackson Avery."
Fisher; which I think is a ridiculous name offers me his hand and though I know I'm being spiteful, I squeeze his hand hard when we connect.
"Uh, that's quite a grip you got there, Dr. Avery," he says as he rubs his sore appendage.
I try to keep the smirk from my face, but I know I've failed when I see April scowl at me.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ," I say, barely keeping the contempt from my voice, but remember my manners because I am an Avery for goodness sake and bad behavior would be beneath me.
"Same here Dr. Avery. I've heard so much about you and please, call me Fisher," he asks, but I don't return the gesture.
I know I have no right to be jealous, but I can't help myself. I had hoped to have a talk with April. See where she stood and hopefully convince her to have dinner with me and if not that, at least a cup of coffee.
"Fisher, works at the hospital with me," she says through gritted teeth, her displeasure with me apparent, "and when he found out that our Nugget had a ceremony today, I invited him to accompany me."
I cringe when she looks at him and winks knowingly and though I'm not a violent man, I have the undeniable urge to punch him in the face.
"So, what's your specialty, Fisher?" Frankly, I could care less, but I plan on at least being polite.
"Orthopedics. I've been at the hospital for ten years and…"
Blah, blah, blah is all I can think as I effectively tune him out and focus on April. She seems enamored by this… turnip as she listens to him wax poetic and the realization causes me to deflate.
I know I haven't communicated with April much in the last four years outside of discussions about Harriet, but I anticipated us rekindling some of that old magic we had before all the troubled times and even after when we she lived with me, it was good.
I wanted, no, I needed that back.
Evidently, he'd finished his spiel because April clasps my arm to gain my attention and sparks radiate throughout my system.
"Jackson, are you okay? You kind of zoned out there for a minute," she asks with concern.
"I'm sorry. I'm fine. I just have something on my mind," I lie as it's my only option.
"Okay," she says unsure, "well, the ceremony's about to start so let's take our seats."
I follow them as April loops arms with Fisher and without an inkling of guilt, I stare at her ass as it sways before me. She'd wore a yellow and white belted floral dress, her crimson hair in loose ringlets and the highest and sexiest pair of black open toed shoes I'd ever seen. My expression sours because I know she hasn't dressed that way for me, but for the man who was now lucky enough to hold her attention.
I take a seat on April's left side as Fisher settles in on her right. I can't help but notice as he takes of her hand and she pats his comfortingly, both seemingly oblivious to my presence. I want to be angry, but now isn't the time as they are about to begin, and I don't plan to miss a second of my beautiful baby receiving her honors. The event starts precisely at four o'clock, as indicated by the timetable and is scheduled for an hour.
The sounds of Pomp and Circumstance begin on the piano and thirty tiny feet march out on stage, heads held high. I beam as one curly haired girl breaks formation and waves excitedly at April and I in the audience and we wave back, just as enthused and I find it amusing that her dimples mimic perfectly her mother's.
They eventually take their seats and we are treated to a welcome speech by Principle Hardwick, You Are My Sunshine sung by very sweet, but offkey voices, a slideshow of accomplishments like field trips, class projects, sports activities and plays all set to the music of Louis Armstrong's, It's A Wonderful World. This is followed by a speech from a first-grade student who tells the class all the things they could expect as they entire this new phase in their lives. There is a final performance by the students as they recite a witty poem called Seven Wonders of the World by Patrick Winstanley and it all concludes with the presentation of diplomas and right before my Peanuts name is called, April thrusts her camera into Fisher's hands and instructs him to take pictures.
"Harriet Kepner-Avery," the principal announces and as her name is called out, April and I stand then clap enthusiastically, not caring that we are blocking the view of the parents behind us.
It all ends with some closing remarks and thanks, and the kids scramble off stage. Harriet barrels into us, her small arms wrapping around my and April's legs as best she can.
"I am so proud of you, Nugget. You did a wonderful job!" April says in congratulations.
"Are you proud of me, daddy?" Harriet asks me.
"Are you kidding me? I am the proudest daddy in the whole wide world," I swear to her and lift her so that she rests on my hip.
"Hi, Dr. Fisher," she says as she greets April's friend and for the first time, I hear the lisp as she says her s's that is created due to her newly missing two front teeth.
"Hello, Miss Harriet, and I have to say, your mother is right. You did a wonderful job," he says and tickles her tummy.
What a suck up I think as I roll my eyes.
"Jackson, I planned on a very special dinner for our Nugget in celebration and I'd like for you to join us," she offers.
I'm at once interested but it is tempered as I realize that, Fisher will be in attendance as well.
"That's okay, April. Peanut and I can do something tomorrow. I don't want to interfere," I attest.
She looks at me oddly and I don't have time to decipher it's meaning as Harriet whispers in my ear.
"Please, daddy. Please come eat dinner with me," she whines.
I can't deny her anything and the puppy dog eyes she is giving me win me over.
"Okay, baby, I'll be there," I vow.
"Yay!" she yells at the top of her lungs, "Mommy, daddy is coming with us."
"I know, Nugget. I think that's the best way to end our evening," she comments and my heart sores.
I don't know how to take what she means. It is because it will please Harriet or is it because she misses and enjoys my company. More than likely it's the first because her boyfriend appears to be glued to her side as he rests his palm against the small of her back.
"Well, you guys have a great time and you, Miss Harriet," he broadcasts, "I have a present for you."
Fisher reaches in his pocket and produces an expertly wrapped gift which is adorned with butterflies and its symbolism doesn't escape me.
"Thank you, Dr. Fisher," she responds with gratitude and holds it tightly against her chest.
I'm hesitant to ask, Fisher, but I'm curious, so I inquire, "You won't be joining us?"
"Unfortunately, no. I'm working the late shift, so I'll have to forgo dinner," he declares and again, kisses April on the cheek before he leaves.
We take the time to give our gratitude to Harriet's teacher, Ms. Thomas, whom she adores, while Harriet says goodbye to her friends. As we're heading out to our respective vehicles, one of Harriet's hand held by each of us, she asks April if she can ride with me. April, amazing mother that she is, agrees and I place her in her booster seat for the ride to her other home.
During the week she's at April's house, Harriet takes a private school bus along with several other children back and forth to school same as she does when she's with me during my weeks. On Friday's either I or April picks her up from daycare and alternate accordingly.
As I adjust my seatbelt, I look in my rearview mirror at Harriet as she fiddles with the small square box. It's not a particularly long ride, but long enough for us to have a decent conversation and for me to get some information out of her. I feel awful about what I'm about to do, but kids are nothing but honest and it's not like I'm going to ask her anything too revealing, and it registers to me that I'm being deceptive, but asking April directly is out of the question.
"Hey, Peanut," I utter with a pleasing tone.
"Yes, daddy?" she answers as she kicks her white patent leather shoes against the back of the passenger seat.
I quickly grasp them, and she giggles because she knows it drives me crazy and somehow, she thinks of it as a game. I release her, and she grins wickedly. She isn't a malicious child, just rambunctious. Same as I was at her age.
"Does, Dr. Fisher spend a lot of time at you and mommy's house?" I ask and cut my eyes to her rapidly to gage her reaction and as expected, her expression in full of innocence as she replies.
"Yes. He comes to my house a lot."
I know I'm overstepping, but I need to know, "Do you ever… see Dr. Fisher in the morning?"
She looks skyward as she considers what I'm asking, "No."
I take a calming breath and I ascertain that her answer no way implies that he doesn't spend the night with April, it's just that he may be gone by the time Harriet wakes in the morning. I want to figure out more of this mystery, but it isn't fair to her to stick her in the middle. I'm the grown up here and if I want to know something, I need to go straight to the source.
Fifteen minutes later, I ease alongside April's blue Prius and help Harriet inside. Their house is similar to the one she'd lived in all those years ago. A single story, two-bedroom, two bath bungalow style home with attached porch, decorated painstakingly in soft colors, with beach style furniture and overstuffed throw pillows to spare. It's cozy, warm and signature April. It made me wonder about what she said earlier when she stated that she was planning to move, and I worry that it was because she plans to move in with Fisher.
I watch Harriet unzip her gown and whip her cap off her head and jot toward her bedroom as the articles rest in the middle of the living room floor.
"Harriet Kepner-Avery," April bellows, "you get back in here and clean up your mess!"
"Yes, mama," I hear her respond from the back of the house.
She trots back out five minutes late, dressed in a white short-sleeved top with the words princess glittered in gold across the front and a pair of pink leggings, her favorite doll, Amy, tucked under her arm. She gathers up her items, stuffs them in a cubby April has designated for her at the base of a bookshelf and all I can do is snicker at her actions.
I catch April as she shakes her head, but I can tell she isn't upset if her stifled laugh is any indication.
"Jackson, feel free to make yourself at home," she tells me, "I'm gonna get out of this dress so I can start dinner. I'll be right back."
Harriet turns on the television and plops down on the couch as the sounds of Dr. McStuffins, a personal favorite of father and daughter, fills the space. We don't allow Harriet to watch a lot of television but an hour or two after school was permissible along with a few movies on the weekend if she's completed her schoolwork and chores during the week. We make sure she is well rounded. She spends time outside playing, has learned how to use a computer, attends All That Dance Academy where she learns ballet, tap, urban dance.
I sit down next to Harriet who is so focused on the television that she barely registers my existence, but all I want to do is go down the hall, walk into April's bedroom and help her get undressed. Not that she needs my assistance, but I'm willing to offer it anyway.
The most physical I've been with April in years is when we both attended the funeral of a colleague and we embraced each other in sympathy, but the thought of getting a glimpse of her naked body sets my loins afire.
April reenters the living room, her hair pulled up in a high ponytail and wearing a pair of grey lounge pants with a fitted black long sleeve top. It simple, plain and she looks absolutely stunning.
She begins busying herself in the kitchen and while Harriet is occupied, I thought this would be my best opportunity to speak to her.
Sidling up next to her, she jolts in surprise at my proximity.
"Uh, hey. What's up?" she asks, her brows scrunched together quizzically.
"Nothing. I just thought I'd help you prepare dinner," I respond coyly.
She stills in the midst of removing a baking pan from the lower cabinet and looks at me. I'm not sure what she is trying to figure out, but for some reason, I feel like I'm being scrutinized.
"Well, thank you. I appreciate it," she continues after a few moments, "I've pretty much got everything prepared. I just need to put it in the oven and set the timer."
"So, what are we making?" I ask in and effort to keep the conversation flowing.
"Nugget's favorites. Baked macaroni and cheese, roasted broccoli and garlic parmesan chicken," she states.
"That sounds good," I say then waver for a moment before I take a chance, "I mis your cooking."
"I miss cooking for you," she mutters, then I see her smirk and my spirits rise.
We putter around the kitchen, gathering ingredients, mixing components, cooking her recipes and we are in total sync as if we had never been separated. We engage in harmless chitchat and talk about my mother, her parents, her sisters, work and naturally, Harriet knowing that the elephant in the room in which we don't talk about is our romantic lives.
Harriet is still in the living room, completely enchanted by the miniature doc on the screen. We hear her as she recites lines and are delighted by her infectious belly laughs.
To break the tension between us, I pick a semi neutral topic.
"Thinking about moving, are you?"
"Yeah, I want something bigger. Four bedrooms and at least three baths," she affirms but adds nothing else.
She shrugs, nonchalantly and I wonder if she wants a larger place because of her and Fisher.
By the time dinner is almost ready, my interest reaches a boiling point and I take my shot. I want to bring it up before we sit down with Harriet. Our little girl is extremely smart and can sense when there's tension between us. I know I have no business delving into her personal life and I have no illusions that we are as close as we once were when she would freely confide in me and by taking this step, it could set us back even further. Currently, we are on friendly terms and the last thing I want to do is destroy that. We were once everything to each other. Even before we wed, we were confidants. I hate how it all crashed and burned, but I never fell out of love with April. Love strangely enough, was never our problem.
I screw up my courage and say what I need to before I lose my nerve.
"So, Fisher. Uh… is he your boyfriend?" I comment.
I expect her to respond right away, but all she does is stare at me in bewilderment then lets out a guffaw that confuses me.
"Fisher?" she says as if it's the first time she's heard his name, "Fisher and I are friends, not that it's your concern."
I've upset her and that's the last thing I want to do.
"I'm sorry, April. I didn't mean to butt in. I just… I."
I stop because I'm at a loss of what to say next and whatever expression is on my face, she seems to take pity on me.
She lets out a whoosh of breath as her shoulders sag, "Jackson, Fisher… Fisher and I met the very first day I started at Northwest and immediately hit it off. He welcomed me and made me feel at home. He took the time to get to know me and he understands me. He was like my unofficial ambassador and introduced me around to people that I am honored to call my friends. Jackson, it's different from Grey Sloan and though I miss a lot about working there, this hospital, those people embraced me for who I am and not for one day have I ever been made to feel undervalued, unappreciated or unwanted."
My eyes dart toward the floor as I am instantly filled with shame.
When we were interns, I was aware of the teasing and snide remarks that were heaped upon her and many times I was either a willing participant or stood by as witness to the often-cruel remarks. We became closer once we arrived at Grey Sloan née Seattle Grace Mercy West, even more so after the shootings and though the ridicule continued, over time I began to stick up for her. Hell, I punched Karev in the face for her. After our divorce, I confess, I wasn't by her side when she needed me. The Minnick incident stands out the most. So, to hear that she is content, leaves me with mixed emotions. I am thankful that she has found a family here in Seattle but saddened that her family no longer includes those at Grey Sloan.
"Jackson," she continues, "Fisher is my best friend. I love him…"
My breath hitches and all I can focus on is the buzzing sound between my ears. She loves someone and for the first time in what seems like forever, it isn't me.
"… but he is very, very much gay."
Though I am stunned by her words, somehow, I manage to catch the last bit of her admission.
"Wait, what? You and Fisher aren't a couple?" I ask shocked.
She chuckles because I'm sure I look absolutely befuddled.
"So, you're not seeing anybody?" I ask out of the blue.
Her head wobbles and her eyes widen at my forwardness.
"Uh, no. I'm not," she says as her brow creases.
"That's um… that's good?" I'm not sure why I question her, but I do.
"If that's how you want to look at it, sure. It's good," she responds.
We gape at each other, neither of us blinking when we are literally saved by the bell as the oven timer dings.
Looking away first, she turns to the flatware drawer and nosily fumbles for forks and knives.
"Can you grab some plates, please," she asks me.
I can easily move around her, but instead stretch so that my body towers over hers, her back at my front. I don't do it to intimidate, but to convey that I am comfortable with her and only want to be close.
I open the cabinet door and remove three dishes, then three glasses and leave to set the table. April instructs Harriet to go wash her hands and when she returns, she's rubbing her wet hands across her t-shirt instead of the hand towel she should have used then takes the cloth napkins April holds out for her and completes the place setting.
Harriet leads us in prayer before we dig in and while I don't participate, I do gaze adoringly at them both. Harriet dominates the dinner conversation, our little chatterbox, and it puts me and what I assume, April, at ease. She talks energetically about summer camp, attending first grade and friends she can't wait to see again. She regals us with jokes she's learned and a riddle she believes she has stumped us with and we play along for her enjoyment. We both heap praise on April and the amazing dinner she's cooked, and she rewards us her famous coconut cream meringue pie for dessert. I savor every bite and as we sit around the table, it hits me what I have truly been yearning for all these years.
This. This is what I want. My family back. I want April and Harriet. All of us together sharing a home. Building our future, together. I want to have more kids with her. I want to grow old with her. I want to marry her again and give her that field full of butterflies and the meant to be, mints. The difficult part is getting her to agree to my overall plan.
After dinner is over, Harriet helps to clear the table and she and I load the dishwasher as April hand washes the pans and Pyrex baking dish. When she's finished, she dries her hands with a dishtowel and my stomach suddenly does flips because I'm sure that she's about to bid me goodnight. I am pleasantly surprised when she suggests we pop in copy of Frozen 2 and have a movie night with Harriet.
We open her present from, Fisher as the movie starts, to find a sterling silver chain and dangling from it, a personalized with the letter H, a red, black, and silver ladybug charm. It's an appropriate gift as Harriet loves ladybugs as much as April loves butterflies. She insists she can't wait to put in on and I hook it around her neck.
Forty minutes later, our sweet baby, who is growing up far to fast before my very eyes, doesn't even make it to the halfway point as she falls asleep with her head in my lap. April gathers her up in her arms and I kiss her forehead before she takes her to changer her into her pajamas and put her to bed.
I wait patiently for April to return, my leg bouncing uncontrollably as I recline against the back of the couch. She returns ten minutes later, and I know for sure she's about to kick me out when once again, I am surprised when she offers me a glass of wine.
She turns off the television and we sit on opposite ends of the couch and the cushion between us feels like a mile-wide gap. It's oddly quiet as we sip the crisp white wine and we titter at the same time. I'm about to open my mouth to say something when she interrupts.
"I was sorry to hear about you and Maggie. I know you'd been seeing each other for a while and I know how tough it came be after a breakup. You seem to be doing well though," she says, her voice trailing off to a inaudible whisper.
"You heard about that?" I ask astounded.
"Yeah, well I know somebody who knows somebody and I overhead them talk about that hot Dr. Avery over at Grey Sloan and how he was on the market again," she says shyly and there's no way she can hide the blush as it rises to her cheeks.
"Trust me, I'm doing just fine. Maggie and I were good, for a while, but ultimately, she wasn't the one for me," I say and stare at her pointedly as she shifts under my gaze.
She doesn't say anything but brushes a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear and all I want to do is shake loose her ponytail and run my fingers through her hair.
I take the initiative and inch nearer. I can't stop watching her and consider what I'm about to do because I know deep down that I can't leave without saying anything to her.
"I miss you," I practically shout and I'm not sure if it's my volume or my declaration that scares her as she is clearly taken aback.
"You can't just blurt out things like that, Jackson, particularly when you don't mean it," she admonishes me.
"But, I do, April. I miss you," I take a beat, "I miss us."
Her body is aflame. Awash in a brilliant pink tinge, but this time, it's not the heated, healthy glow of a woman enamored by a crushes compliment, but an anger that is building from somewhere below.
"How can you say that to me after all this time? I left all those years ago knowing I did it so we could both move on and now, conveniently after you and Maggie are over, you tell me you want me? What game are you playing?" she says in a huff.
"I'm not playing any games," I assure her.
She stands, places her wine glass on the coffee table and storms off, but before she exits the room, I stop her with a light touch as I grip her forearm.
She spins on me, fire in her eyes and waits for me to explain.
"April, I blindsided you, I get that, but I've been thinking about this for a while. This isn't a hasty decision I've made in telling you how I feel. Yes, I miss our friendship. I miss our partnership. I miss talking to you about everything under the sun. My wishes, my issues, my desires. I miss kissing you. I miss holding you. Most importantly, I miss… being with you," I profess.
"No! No," she shakes her head in denial, "you're just being nostalgic and sentimental about the past. We're way beyond making a go of this. We've been through too much. Too many mistakes were made, by us both," she screeches then bows her head and when she raises it, there are tears in her eyes.
Like I wanted to do moments ago, I take her face in my hands, "April, I apologize. I know I caught you off guard, but I never should have let you go without telling you how I felt. When you gave me your blessing, I thought you were over me, but I've never gotten over you. I was afraid to be honest. Afraid that if we started up again, the outcome would be the same. Being with Maggie was easy, but easy doesn't mean perfect and easy wasn't good enough for me. There was no fire, no passion. She didn't challenge me. She was my safety net and I can't make excuses anymore. My heart didn't beat for her. It beats for you. April, it's always been you and it will always be you."
She bites the inside of her cheek in frustration, "I was so angry with you. Angry and hurt. When you started dating Maggie, it broke my heart. I'd only moved out a few months when you started dating someone at the hospital and it wasn't just anyone, it was a friend. It was a slap in the face. You don't think I saw how the two of you looked at each other. The way you smiled whenever she crossed your path. That your love grew while I was going through a crisis damn near killed me. I thought you didn't care about me anymore. But, I'm stronger and more confident now. So, don't lie to me just because you're scared to be alone. Don't tell me you want me when you don't."
I'm not a man who normally cries, but the sorrow and rage that emanates from her is overpowering. My eyes are wet, and I don't hide it or brush the oncoming tears away.
I'm not above groveling so I pull her close. So, close that our chests collide.
"April, I'm a different person then I was four years ago. We're different people. We've both learned and grown so much. I know that our problems won't disappear overnight and that's something we'll have to work hard on. We're going to need to fight. Not each other, but for one another. We can figure this out. We can make this work, Sweet Pea," I say as I bust out the nickname I'd so affectionately bestowed upon her on our wedding night.
I tilt her chin so that she doesn't misinterpret what I'm about to say as I recite the words that are etched in my heart, in my mind, and in my soul.
"April, I love you. I always have. I love everything about you. Even the things I don't like, I love. And I want you with me. I love you and I think that you love me, too. Do you?"
I stop breathing as I await her reply. I see her eyes as they consider if I'm being sincere. Deciding if she's willing to take another chance on us. Determining if it's worth the risk to put her trust in me again.
I don't have to wait long, and her answer is the best I could ever ask for as she stands up on her tiptoes, braces her hands behind my head, cranes my neck toward hers and kisses me full and hard on the lips.
Our lips part and she say's what I've been waiting for what feels like forever to hear, "I love you, too. You and me?"
She's left me breathless, but I manage to answer her without hesitation, "You and me."
A/N: Chapter title song – Just Like You by Keisha Cole
Sweet Pea is a nickname I decided to add to their history. Canon Jackson has never called April by this moniker.