Part 10

She sleeps for awhile. When she wakes up again, she's wrapped in Cooper's arms, but he's out even colder than she was, and he doesn't stir. She delicately disentangles herself, stretches, unbuckles her seat belt and makes for the restroom.

"Hey."

Naomi, two rows ahead, looks up when she walks by. The seat beside her is empty. Naomi pats it, gives her an encouraging nod.

She sits. "Where'd Sam go?"

"Playing cards in Row 7 with Pete."

"Ah. Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Naomi laughs, then her face sobers again as she looks her up and down. "You holding up okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just that you and Addison seemed...I don't know. I had the feeling that you were affected by this."

"Now, don't you dare try and head-shrink me."

"I'm not."

"Cause you know I'm not the sharing type."

"I do. But you know that I'm the asking type."

"That you are."

"So, then we've both done our jobs."

She exhales, closes her eyes for a second. Then looks back at Naomi and sighs. "All right. One thing."

"Sure."

"It's something Cooper said. About feeling guilty sometimes, that he and I are better now, in some ways."

"Okay..."

"Guess I'm feeling that way too, about this. I mean, it's the most horrible thing that could possibly happen, for Addison. And there I am feeling just a little bit relieved that I have something else to think about. Does that...does that sound wrong, to you?"

"It sounds understandable. On both you and Cooper's part."

"I've just never really been the touchy-feely type, you know? It's not my natural inclination. Sure, I have feelings, just like anyone. But if you give yourself enough distractions, you can put 'em away a lot better than most people realize. And my whole life's been that way. I mean, is there any distraction more all-consuming than med school and being a doctor?"

"I guess not."

"But this...lately...I don't know. I've just felt like I've had more...more thoughts than I'm used to. More feelings. More...stuff. And all my usual tricks weren't keeping them away..."

"So you worked with Addison on Susan's case..."

"It was something to do."

"Now, come on. It was more than that."

"Yeah, it was. We had some unfinished business, Addison and I, and it got finished, and I suppose that's one silver lining. But more than that, I was just so relieved to have another crisis, and not about me this time..."

"Oh, honey, that's okay."

"Maybe. So, what am I supposed to do about this?"

"Well, you do what you are doing, I guess. Feelings are feelings, there's no right or wrong about them."

"Huh. Coop said that too."

"Well, he's right. Trying to stifle that or control that isn't going to get anyone anywhere. You just talk it out when you have to, and then you go about your business. And you've done that by getting on this plane to fly out and be there for her."

"So, that's it? It means I get a pass on the rest of this?"

"Like I said. There is nothing to pass you on. If it's any consolation, I do think you'll have to work for it, this time."

"Yeah?"

"It's easier, sometimes, to be yourself with someone who's not as close to your bullshit. If she cracks, my bet is she'll crack for you. You mind scooting out a little? I want to use the bathroom."

A day later, she's standing in the kitchen of Addison's childhood home, and she's having flashbacks not to the rape, but to her daddy's funeral, not so long ago, in a home just like this one. She's heading back up to bed with the drink she'd come to get for Cooper before she and Addison started talking, and she's suddenly overwhelmed with a snippet of grief she hasn't felt in a long while, and it comes on her so hard and so fast that she has to stop for a second to catch her breath.

"You're a stone bastard for leaving me," she complains to her absent father. "Thank the the lord you didn't do it this way, though..."

She turns toward the bedroom, then sighs, sets down the drink, and doubles back toward Addison's room. She knocks once, then pushes open the door. Addison is lying on the bed, fully clothed, wide awake, eyes glassy, vacant, but shining with tears.

She says nothing, just climbs onto the bed, lies down beside Addison and holds out her hand. After a moment, Addison takes it.

"I don't feel like talking," Addison says.

"Now, you know I'm not the talking type."

"And I am, like, this close to a total nervous breakdown here, so if a little bit of crying is gonna scare you away..."

"Seen worse. Done worse, if you want to know the truth, but you tell anybody, and I'll deny it."

"Yeah? You?"

"I bottle 'em up pretty good most of the time, but I do have feelings, you know."

"Yeah. Why do you do that, anyway?"

"What?"

"Bottle them up. Why do you do that?"

"Why does anybody?"

Addison props herself up on her arms, suddenly angry, and energized by it. "No, I'm serious. That's what my mother did. She bottled it all up so she could keep up the appearance of a perfect little life, and it ate her up alive, Charlotte. It literally ate...her...up...alive..."

"Addison..."

"No. It ate the rest of us up too, Charlotte. Do you see that? Archer and I, it ate us up too, and I don't get it. I just don't get why she did this and why it all had to happen..."

Addison breaks off, succumbs to the tears for a second, then with a loud sniffle, dries her eyes. "Well? Have you go anything to say to me?"

"Well, I think this very chat we're having is a perfect explanation. There are people...your mother was one, and maybe so am I...who through raising or instinct or both just find real emotion absolutely terrifying. And I think...no, I know, especially now, after what's happened to me, how hard it can be to deal with just your own feelings sometimes. But then you let other people into your life and you have to deal with their feelings too..."

"So, what, I'm supposed to feel sorry for her? Because she had to deal with us?"

"Feel whatever you want to, there's no right or wrong. Just don't make the mistake of thinking it's about you when it's kind of not."

"But that's the problem. It was never about me. Not even once in my life, for a second was it ever about me, and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do about that."

"Well, you look for that in some place outside of her, I'd guess. Is it ever about you, with Sam?"

The tears stop abruptly, and Addison looks stunned. "I...hadn't thought about it that way."

"Look, here's one thing I've learned from my recent trial. There are times you go through something that's so big it's almost outside of you, how big it is. You just...you can't even...well, you know what I mean."

Addison slowly nods. "Yeah. I think so."

"And you can't live in that, Addison, you just can't. So you take it moment by moment and just try to live in that instead. You tell yourself in this moment, I am safe. In this moment, I am loved. And if you need it to be all about you, and in this moment it is, then you live in that while it's here. Cause you sure can't live in the rest of it..."

"Charlotte?"

"Hmmm?"

"How often do you still say it? I'm safe, I'm loved...how often do you actually have to say it?"

"Less often than I did at first. But hey, it's not about me right now, is it?"

That, finally, gets her a smile. She lies back down again and holds out her hand. And again, Addison takes it.