A/N: And at long last, Amy returns home! The joyous reunion happens in this chapter. Thanks again to all who have been reading and reviewing, and I hope that no one's bored yet!
Disclaimer: I still own nothing.
By the time the gallery showing was over, Amy was fast friends with Raye. The latter, who turned out to be the daughter of New York Senator B. Louis Harcourt, exchanged contact information with her by the end of the night, and it was rather nice to have someone else to talk to. They met for lunch twice before Amy had to go back home to Georgia, and her new friend's refreshing, down-to-earth sensibilities and candour enabled Amy to endure the rest of the trip, including being coerced into sitting for a portrait for Clemence.
The resulting artwork looked not unlike a knockoff of the paintings made by Picasso during his blue period and was completely unrecognizable as Amy except for two large, exaggeratedly long-lashed blue eyes peering out like the portholes of a ship. Clemence had not finished the picture by the time Amy was due to return home, but had declared triumphantly that she'd managed to capture the "spirit" of it. Amy was privately happy that she would not be trotted through another art gallery showing and be discussed and referred to as "the muse" by any more uppity strangers.
The woman's relationship with her father was open-ended and fashionably anti-matrimonial, as Clemence reassured her one day that she did not have to worry about gaining a stepmother, for in these liberated days and times such institutions as marriage were of secondary importance, and they both wished to focus more on their art. This declaration, on top of her experiences during the trip, made her understand that her father was simply not cut out for the role which life had thrust upon him. Marriage and family did not suit him, and he left a situation which he deemed stifling and intolerable to pursue his interests and freedom. Nothing that she was or could do would change it, but to let it continue to bother her made little sense, either.
All in all, it was with quite a bit of excitement and anticipation that she boarded the plane that would take her back home, and when she bid her father farewell at the airport, it felt like closure. After a few hours and the pilot's voice on the intercom informing them that they were about to land, please put seats back in the upright position and buckle up seatbelts, she found herself smiling.
Two blonde teenagers, one female and cheerful, the other male and somewhat spastic, walked together through the airport deep in conversation. Mina had eagerly supported Zach's idea to surprise Amy at the airport on her return, and was talking a mile a minute, giving him directions and bewailing the fact that his hair was sticking up in all directions.
"So, the plane touches down in about half an hour, and there is a gift shop right there, and you really should get her flowers! And WHY is your hair so messy? You look like a Treasure Troll. With a perm."
"Shut up, M-E-A-N-A," Zach grimaced, raking his fingers through the sandy-blond curls and failing utterly in smoothing them down. "I'll get her some flowers, sure."
She beamed, and chattered on about how sweet a gesture it was and how cute she thought him and Amy were together, and in his distraction and haste, he only noticed that the flowers he found were in various shades of blue and white, which suited Amy well. He bought the bouquet as Mina thumbed through a magazine and afterwards, they followed the signs in the airport to the terminal where Amy's plane was supposed to land.
Zach saw Dr. Elizabeth Mizuno the same moment that she saw him, and there was no way to avoid a conversation. Shuffling his feet in embarrassment, he walked forward, still lamely holding the flowers since the traitorous Mina had flitted off towards the direction of the bathrooms and left him to his fate.
"Hello, Zach," Elizabeth Mizuno greeted him with a kindly smile, and for the first time, Zach noticed how much Amy took after her mother. Dr. Mizuno had the same pale skin and Prussian blue eyes, the same fine-boned hands. The same slow smile curved across her lips as she held out a hand for Zach to shake. "It's good to see you again. You're here to see Amy, hmm?"
"Uhhh, yeah. I came with a friend. Mina Atherton. We both know Amy from school. And... yeah." The attempt to play casual was belied by the bouquet he still held, and Elizabeth Mizuno's smile grew.
"You know, you don't have to be so nervous around me," she remarked matter-of-factly. "I know that you like Amy. It doesn't bother me at all that you do. She's fond of you as well."
He coughed somewhat bashfully, but retained enough of his intrinsic charm to pull a white daisy out of the bouquet and hand it to her. "Well, thanks, I guess. I... uh, well, I'm glad you think so. And that it doesn't bother you. And... well, I kind of wanted to see her, because I think she was worried about the trip, and I know for a while she wasn't enjoying herself, and I'm hoping that she's okay and she feels better. And I hope she's not sad when she gets here. Because that makes me sad. She's usually so together. It's actually kind of intimidating if you think about it for a long time."
This ramble was neither sophisticated nor polished, but Amy's mother didn't seem to mind, and gave his hand a squeeze with her warm, capable one. "She'll be happy to see you, I'm sure."
"Well, maybe. I hope so, because it would kind of suck if she couldn't stand the sight of me or something. But I mean, I hope she's not upset because of the visit with her dad. I offered that she could have mine if she wanted or if hers pissed her off or something," Zach mumbled, reflexively running his fingers through his disordered hair again. "He might talk her ear off, of course. And... well, I just hope she's okay."
Amy's mom smiled, and there was a soft light of approval and affection in her eyes when she gazed at Zach. At that moment, though, before she could say anything in response, passengers started disembarking from the plane. And there, wearing dark jeans and ballet flats and following out a family of four, was Amy. Amy, whose skin looked luminescent against the dark sleeveless t-shirt she wore, who didn't look worse for the wear. Amy, whose long eyelashes brushed her cheeks when she blinked. Amy, whose eyes widened and lips curved up when she saw him standing next to her mother, and ran forward.
"Zach!" Her voice was light and almost giddy as she launched herself in his arms, and the radiance of her smile hit him like a fist to the heart. "Oh, I've missed you! I've really, really missed you!" A giggle escaped as his arms closed around her and he was submerged in the feeling of her, the tickle of her breath against his neck as she clung to him, the softness and scent of her hair against his cheek. He held onto her so tightly that he could feel her heart beating against his own, and his own heart stumbled.
It was only after a few eternities that the rest of the world came back into view, and he realized that there was a good chance he was crushing her, and he pulled back a step. It was also then that he realized that the flowers he bought came with a small card sticking out at a jaunty angle, which read "Congratulations, it's a boy!" and had a picture of a stork with a blanket-wrapped bundle dangling from its beak.
He bit off a swear word and raked his fingers through his hair again, but there was nothing to do but hand her the bouquet, which was looking also a bit worse for wear from the way it was held, a few fallen petals now clinging to the back of Amy's shirt. She, of course, noticed the card and laughed softly.
"I'm sorry, I bought them because they're blue and you like blue, and..." His ramble was cut off by a delicate fingertip, which she held against his lips even as she reached up to smooth down his hair.
"Thanks," she said quietly, moving her hand away from his mouth to take the flowers. The other hand remained tangled in his hair though, and for the first time somewhere public, in front of her mother and everyone in the terminal at the airport and Mina, whom he vaguely noticed in the corner grinning and snapping photographs at a mad pace on her cell phone, she pressed her lips to his. He forgot all about his nervousness, the incongruous card with the flowers, the fact that her mother was watching them with an indulgent and nostalgic smile, and kissed her back. There was nothing and no one else in the world. She was all right, she was back with him, elation flowing through them like intoxication, and he loved her.
"Oh." She was the first to speak when they pulled apart, and he noticed the redness of her cheeks and the contrite expression on her face. "Hi, Mom. Mina. That was rather rude of me, wasn't it? I'm sorry."
Neither her mother nor Mina seemed to mind.