A/N: Second to last chapter, guys. I've been trying to come full circle with these last two chapters. Hope you enjoy!
Elizabeth leaned forward in the passenger seat and tried to see out the windshield, but everything was covered in snow. She loved snow. She loved snow on Christmas, she loved taking walks in the snow with Peter and Satchmo, and she loved watching it fall when she was sitting somewhere warm with a nice cup of tea.
Driving in the middle of a full-on snowstorm? Not so much.
Especially not when it was her fault. Well, technically, it was her parents' fault.
They were celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary. Elizabeth's mom had always said that if they made it to fifty, they would go on a cruise. Just the two of them. With that in mind, she had decided that they would have a big celebration now for the 40th anniversary. She had found a beautiful lake resort and had invited the entire extended family to stay there for a weekend – their treat.
It was a wonderful idea and Elizabeth had been looking forward to it for weeks. But the day before, the entire Midwest had been hit by a massive snowstorm. Somehow, Peter and Elizabeth's plane had made it out of New York and into Chicago. But as soon as they had left the airport in their rental car, they seemed to have run out of luck.
The roads were getting worse by the minute. The windshield wipers could barely keep up with the amount of snow, which made it hard to see. The streets had been plowed at some point, but the fresh snow made any attempts at keeping them that way look like a fool's errand.
"They'll be closing the roads soon if this doesn't get any better," Peter muttered. He was driving at a snail's pace and still his knuckles were turning white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.
Elizabeth felt bad because she could see how much it stressed him to drive under these conditions. It took all of his concentration and training just to keep the car on the road. But she didn't know what to do about it.
And then the rear wheels of their car lost traction, causing them to skid for a moment before Peter got the car back under control.
"Hon…" Elizabeth said anxiously. This was no longer merely annoying. It was beginning to scare her.
Peter reached out to squeeze her hand real quick before putting both hands back on the wheel. "I'm stopping the first chance we get," he decided.
The first chance they got turned out to be a motel. They almost didn't make it onto the parking lot because of all the piled-up snow. But they got a room and fought their way from the reception across the lot towards that room. Once they were safely inside, Peter dropped their bags and exhaled.
"I know your father isn't my biggest fan, but conjuring up a snowstorm to keep me away seems a little excessive, don't you think?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Why would he do that? If you're not coming, I'm not coming," she pointed out.
"Right, fatal flaw in his logic. You should tell him that. Maybe that'll make this storm go away," Peter suggested.
"You're being silly, but you're right about one thing. I really do need to call them," Elizabeth said and reached for her phone. But there was no reception. She tried to use the landline in the room, but the phone was dead, too. Elizabeth picked up her cell again and carried it into every corner of the room, hoping to get at least one bar. No such luck.
She was heading towards the door when Peter stopped her. "Honey, what are you doing?"
"I'm not getting any reception in here. I'll try outside."
Peter shook his head. "You did notice the snow, right?"
"Honey, you know how they are. I need to let them know that we're okay, and I want to make sure that everybody else is, too. Thank God Maddie's been staying with them for the whole week…" Elizabeth said, about to open the door.
But Peter blocked it. "I'm sure everybody's fine or holed up somewhere like we are. If you go back out there, we could have just stayed on the road."
"I'll just be a minute," she assured him.
It didn't do any good. "Famous last words of everyone who ever froze to death in a snowstorm," Peter deadpanned.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at him, but she knew better than to argue with her husband about matters of personal safety, especially hers.
She put her phone away and sank onto the bed, heaving a sigh. "Now what are we going to do?" They were stuck in this cheap motel room that had a bed and a TV and not much else.
"We'll figure something out," Peter said, but Elizabeth couldn't share his confidence. She was worried about her family, disappointed that she wouldn't get to see them, and upset that she had stranded Peter and herself in this awful motel.
At least, it had its own bathroom and that's where Elizabeth disappeared to for a moment. Not too long, though, because the heating didn't seem to be working, and it was uncomfortably cold in there. She didn't dare to try the shower. She would bet dollars to donuts that there was no hot water right now.
When Elizabeth left the bathroom again, she blinked in surprise. The motel room looked a little different than just a few minutes ago. Peter had lit a couple of candles and turned one of their suitcases into a makeshift table with two plastic cups, a bottle of both water and wine, and some packaged food on top of it.
Before she could say anything, Peter walked up to her and wrapped her favorite cardigan around her shoulders.
"Where did all this come from?" she finally managed to ask.
"You didn't think I would drive us right into a snowstorm without packing for an emergency, did you?"
"So you brought candles?"
"No, those I found in the closet," he admitted. "And the wine is the one we were going to give to your parents, but I'm sure they'll understand. The food might look unhealthy, but it's high in fiber and protein, and rich in the good kind of fat."
Elizabeth chuckled. "Right, how could I ever forget that I married a little boy scout?" she said and leaned back against his chest. "Thanks, hon."
Peter rubbed her arms to warm her up and then led them over to the bed to sit and eat. He poured some of the wine into the plastic cups, and Elizabeth bit her lip so she wouldn't comment on that sacrilege.
After taking a sip, it was Peter, though, who noted, "This wine really is very good."
Elizabeth smiled. "Coming from you, that is saying something."
"Do I want to know how much this cost?" Peter wondered.
"Well, I was going to give that to my parents for their 40th wedding anniversary…" Elizabeth said slowly.
"So that's a no," Peter guessed.
"Pretty much."
"You could have warned me before I opened the bottle."
"I could have, but I always wanted to try this myself," Elizabeth admitted with a lopsided grin.
Peter shook his head at first, but then he shrugged. "Maybe that's the one good thing that came out of all this then."
"I don't know. This is certainly one of the most interesting dinners we've ever had," Elizabeth said, resting her head on Peter's shoulder.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Still, I'm sorry we didn't get to the resort to be with your parents. 40 years of marriage is definitely worth celebrating."
"Mm-hmm."
Peter turned his head so he could look at her better. "You don't think so?"
"Of course, I do. I couldn't be happier for them. It just reminds me of how old I am," Elizabeth confessed.
Peter laughed, but he quickly shut up when he saw the look on her face. "El, you're not old!"
Elizabeth sighed. "But I'm getting there. With gray hairs and everything starting to sag."
"I have never seen so much as one gray hair on your head," Peter insisted.
"Because I always pull them out before you can," she told him.
He gaped at her. "Seriously?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Honey, you know I will love you with gray hairs as much as without them. I'm sure they would make you look very wise."
"I don't want to look wise," Elizabeth said, grimacing.
Peter chuckled. "And as for the rest of it," he said, cupping her face and then letting that hand trace the line of her jaw and neck and trailing further down her chest. "I consider myself a bit of an expert on the subject matter, and I can assure you that everything is exactly where it's supposed to be."
Elizabeth smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Still, these kinds of thoughts weren't as easy to shake off as they used to be. "Thanks, honey, but mother nature isn't as forgiving as you. We've been married for almost ten years now, which is wonderful, but not even how much you love me can change what that means."
"What does it mean?"
"That I am getting too old for certain things." She paused before adding softly, "Like getting pregnant."
Peter's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't expected her to bring that up. "El…"
"It's been years," Elizabeth interrupted him. "I don't know what chance we had after we decided we wouldn't try IVF. But whatever chance we had, I'm sure it's pretty much gone by now." She wasn't sure why she felt the need to talk about this now. Perhaps because they had ended up in this motel despite having had an entirely different plan. Just like life had made other plans for them regarding who they were as a family.
Peter repositioned his hand on her chest until it rested right on top of her heart and they could both feel it beating. Then he looked back into her eyes. "You're not old, hon," he repeated. "But I can't wait for you to get old. With me. So we can be the ones celebrating 40 years. And if we don't have any children to invite, I'll still be the luckiest man on this Earth."
Elizabeth bit her lip, trying to keep a handle on her feelings, but then she just let go and allowed her smile to spread and her eyes to glisten. "I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one. Lucky that someone thought it worthwhile to steal a certain painting that once hung in my gallery."
"Definitely my favorite crime," Peter agreed with a grin.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Should an FBI agent have a list with crimes he actually liked?"
"It's an extremely short list," Peter assured her.
"Is Neal on it?"
Peter sighed. "I don't want to talk about Neal right now."
"But he's getting out soon, isn't he?"
"He is."
"Do you think he's changed?" Elizabeth asked.
"I don't know." Peter shook his head. "I hope so. I hope he gets out, marries Kate, settles down, and lives happily ever after."
Elizabeth smirked. "Do you actually believe that's what he's going to do?"
"Nope. But it's what I would tell him to do. I'd tell him it worked for me." Peter smiled. "Of course, that only works with the right woman."
"Then he would probably ask how he's supposed to know whether he has found the right one or not," Elizabeth argued.
"Easy. Let her see the real you, and if she still doesn't run for the hills despite all your faults and no matter what her father thinks, then she's the one," Peter said.
Elizabeth's eyes twinkled. "What about her faults?"
"Doesn't have any," Peter replied quickly. When she gave him a disbelieving look, he added, "Perhaps a penchant for buying ridiculously expansive wine."
She laughed into his shoulder before then looking up at him more thoughtfully. "When we got married, did you think this is where we'd be ten years later?"
"In a cheap motel room buried under ten feet of snow? No, can't say that I did," Peter answered.
Elizabeth nudged him.
"I don't know, honey. I just hoped that we'd be happy. Getting Satchmo, moving into the house, my promotion to SSA, you building Burke Premiere Events from the ground up… all those things turned out so much better than I ever could have imagined them."
"So no regrets?"
Peter shook his head. "None whatsoever."
"Not even if you could have been a Major League baseball player instead?" Elizabeth asked.
Peter snorted. "Depends."
Elizabeth lifted her head off his shoulder. "On what?"
"If a certain gorgeous blue-eyed brunette would have come to one of my games and met with me afterwards to ask for an autograph."
"I might have," Elizabeth conceded. "But what then? You probably would have given autographs to hundreds of women."
Peter frowned. "Hardly."
"Trust me, you would have," she insisted.
"Okay, but I wouldn't have asked any of them out on a date."
"You might not have asked me out either. As far as I recall, you took your time with that," Elizabeth said with a chuckle.
Peter thought about that. "I probably would have missed the right moment, but only because I would have been completely blown away by you. I then would have sent my agent to find out who you were so I could show up outside your door in a limo."
"A limo?" Elizabeth repeated, amused.
"With tinted windows so no one could bother us," Peter nodded.
"Very thoughtful. But we couldn't have driven up to La Cucina de Tua Nonna in a limo."
"No, my agent would have made reservations at some fancy restaurant instead, but it wouldn't have mattered because we would have never made it there."
"Oh, why not?"
Peter grinned at her. "Because we would have been alone together in a very nice limo with tinted windows, soundproof glass, and instant sexual attraction."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "On the first date? Don't you think you're just a little bit full of yourself?"
"I am a famous Major League baseball player, am I not?"
"Right, which would have made me wonder how many other women you had convinced to give it up in the back of your limo before me."
"I told you. I wouldn't have asked any of them out."
"But how would you have made me believe that?"
Peter huffed. "You're really making me work for this."
Elizabeth smiled innocently. "Well, if you don't think I'm worth it…"
"I would have invited you to come to my next game, best seats in the house, owner's box," Peter suggested.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, not impressed.
"I would have hit a home run for you and made sure you could have kept the ball."
Her other eyebrow lazily joined the first one.
Peter made a face, but then he relaxed into a smile. "I would have met you after the game and waited for everyone to leave, made sure we had all of Yankee Stadium to ourselves. I would have led you out onto the mound and asked you if you'd like to try and hit a ball. I would have been terribly nervous about touching you while teaching you how to hold the bat, because I would have realized that the other night in the limo had given you the wrong impression about me.
You would have laughed at me and I would have never heard anything more beautiful. Then I would have told you about my walkout song being 'I go to work', except that I would replace 'work' with 'Burke', and you would have laughed some more. Until I would have told you that it was my mother who came up with that song and that she had used it to convince me to return to baseball once when I had been about to call it quits. And that by playing that song, I could always have her with me, for every game.
Then I would have asked for permission to drive you home, and this time, I would have walked you to your door and asked you to forgive me for being a presumptuous jerk the other night," Peter finished, looking at her questioningly.
By way of answering, Elizabeth took his face in her hands and kissed him until they ran out of air.
"Wait, is this what happened in the limo or you accepting my apology?" Peter asked, laughter dancing in his eyes.
"I suggest you run with it and find out," Elizabeth replied.
Peter quickly moved the open wine bottle out of the way and shoved the suitcase and the rest of the food off the bed before pushing her into the pillows. The cold from outside had slowly begun to creep into the room, but Elizabeth felt none of it when she discarded her cardigan and pulled her sweater over her head.
Peter's skin was just as warm to her touch. His chest and stomach muscles were still taut and smooth, thanks to his FBI training routine, and Elizabeth loved to let her fingers trail all the way down to his waistband. With this heat of their own making pulsating strongly within her, from her heart to the apex of her thighs, she forgot all about the cold. And she realized that it had been ridiculous of her to fear that growing old would change anything about this feeling.
Her breath was already uneven when they paused for a moment before removing what little remained of their clothing.
"Thanks for letting me see you. The real you," Elizabeth whispered.
"Thanks for not running for the hills," Peter whispered back.
"Never," she promised before giving herself to him.
As she knew she would have done in any version of their story.
He only needed a couple of seconds to orient himself when he woke up. This wasn't the right bed or the right linens, but it was definitely the right woman next to him.
One of Peter's feet poked out from underneath the comforter, and it told him that the motel room had become ice cold during the night. But he didn't mind because the rest of him was perfectly comfortable and warm. El's soft body was pressed up against him and he had an arm wrapped around her to hold her close. She was still asleep.
In the early morning light that filtered through the snow-covered windows and hit her skin like hundreds of small diamonds, she looked absolutely glorious.
This was quite possibly the plainest motel room he had ever slept in. And there was a good chance that they were still cut off from the rest of the world. But Peter couldn't bring himself to care as long as he got to wake up next to El, knowing that they belonged to each other completely and would always be safe in each other's arms.
He was thinking about simply closing his eyes again and going back to sleep when El opened hers.
"I was kind of hoping we would wake up in that penthouse suite you would have rented from all the money you made playing for the Yankees," she muttered, burying her face in his shoulder.
Peter laughed. "I'm afraid not. All I can offer you this morning is an FBI agent who'd be willing to brave the cold out there to go and hunt down breakfast for you."
"I'll take the FBI agent, but I would like him to stay right here," El replied, stretching a little so she could kiss him.
Peter grinned and pulled her on top of him, making sure she remained completely covered by the comforter.
Which proved entirely pointless when a cell phone began to ring. Suddenly, El was wide-awake and jumped right out of bed. "My phone! That must be Mom and Dad. Where the hell did I put it?"
Peter might have answered her if he hadn't been completely engrossed in watching his wife, stark naked and clearly freezing, running around the room to look for her phone. When El noticed the amusement on his face, she chucked a pillow at him. He caught it, laughing, and El finally found her phone.
"Hello? Mom? Can you hear me?" she asked while Peter reached out to pull her back onto the bed and wrap the comforter around her so she wouldn't end up getting pneumonia.
"Yes, we're fine. We're in some motel off… actually, I'm not quite sure. Is everybody else okay?... Are you sure?... Yes, we're coming. We'll try at least… We will."
El hung up the phone and met Peter's questioning look with a helpless little shrug. "Mom says everybody's okay, but no one made it up to the resort yesterday, so she's cancelling the whole thing. She, Dad, and Maddie are still at the house, and they want us to come to."
"Well, I'd say our chances of getting back to Chicago are a lot better than going further North," Peter nodded.
"Do you think we can give it a try?" El asked hopefully. After speaking with her mom, she seemed even more impatient to finally see her family.
Peter got out of bed himself now in an attempt to look out the window. "It doesn't seem to be snowing anymore. If they had time to clear the freeway, we should stand a chance at least."
Excited, El stood and joined him, giving him a kiss. "Thank you."
"I'm making no promises," Peter warned her. He wanted to get out of here, too, but more than that, he wanted them to be safe.
El shook her head. "No, I meant for looking at me like I'm not old."
Peter laughed. "I've only ever looked at you the same way, honey, and that's not going to change."
She smiled and pulled him away from the window and into the bathroom. They took a shower together, which, incidentally, was the best way to stay warm. Dressed and ready they ventured outside for the first time in hours and spent several minutes trying to free their car from underneath all that snow. But the snow wasn't fresh, so Peter had hope. As long as they made it off this parking lot that hadn't really been plowed yet.
They managed, though, and, just like he had predicted, the freeway looked a lot better than it had yesterday. Most cars were still going more slowly than usual, but at least they were able to see where they were going. Making it safely to El's parents became an actual possibility. Which was good because El could barely sit still anymore.
When they pulled up in front of the house, Alan opened the front door to usher them inside.
"Hello, Dad." El happily stepped into her father's embrace.
"Are you okay, honeybee? We were really worried about you when we couldn't reach you yesterday," he said.
"I know. I'm sorry. The roads got so bad that we had to stop at a motel with no reception, but Peter took care of us," El told him.
"Hello, Alan," Peter said when his father-in-law's gaze went from his daughter to him.
"Peter," he greeted him in his usual curt manner.
El glossed right over their lackluster greeting. "So, where's Mom?" she asked.
"She's in the basement checking on our food supplies. She's afraid we'll run out when your aunt and uncle and your cousins arrive. She could probably use an experienced event planner to tell her that it'll be fine and that no one will starve to death. Because she's not listening to me."
El nodded and quickly made her way into the house. Peter was about to follow her when Alan held him back.
"Peter."
"Yes?" he asked, turning back around.
"Thank you for taking care of Elizabeth. I'm glad you're both here with us," Alan said.
Peter tried to hide his surprise, but he probably wasn't very good at it. "I'm glad to hear you think so."
Alan seemed to know exactly what was going through his head. "I know I'm being hard on you sometimes, Peter, but... you'll understand one day."
They shared a look, and Peter thought he understood what his father-in-law was saying. He wasn't sure if he still believed in it, but he appreciated the gesture all the same.
He picked up their bags and carried them upstairs into the room they usually stayed in. It was El's old room, but when they had first visited, Peter had been somewhat disappointed to discover that it had been converted into a guest room. El herself had insisted on it and done most of the decorating. It made sense, of course, but Peter wouldn't have minded a glimpse into his wife's early years.
When he made it back downstairs, he found Maddie sitting in the living room.
"There you are! We were beginning to think that you had fallen off the face of this Earth!" his sister-in-law welcomed him with a hug and a grin.
"Felt a little bit like it," Peter told her before sitting down next to her.
Maddie opened her mouth to respond, but she paused when her mother and sister came back up from the basement, arguing.
"Mom, it's your anniversary. You're supposed to be celebrating without having to do all the work. I thought that was the plan," El was just pointing out.
"Well, yes, but obviously that plan has changed. We've now told everyone to come here, but we hadn't expected guests so nothing's ready," Tina replied, too stressed to even notice that she hadn't said hello to Peter yet.
"Okay, but I can help with that," El offered, not for the first time if the exasperation in her voice was any indication.
Tina shook her head. "You're a guest, too."
"I'm your daughter and an event planner. This is literally what I do for a living," El reminded her.
"Exactly. You and Peter work all the time. I won't have you working on the weekend, too."
"But if we're not supposed to work, then you shouldn't either. That makes absolutely no sense!"
Both mother and daughter looked like they could go several more rounds, and Peter exchanged a concerned look with Maddie.
"Don't worry. I got this," she whispered before standing up and announcing, "I think we should play a game."
Peter furrowed his brow. "A game? That's your solution?"
"Elementary school teacher, remember?" Maddie winked at him. "Trust me. Works every time."
It did work insofar that the interruption surprised El and her mother enough to make them stop bickering. And when Tina turned around to look at her other daughter, her eyes also fell on Peter.
"Oh, Peter, oh dear, I'm so sorry. I don't know where my head is today!" She said while she rushed over to hug him. "You should have said something, you bad boy!"
"No need to apologize. This storm caught all of us by surprise," he said, cringing at the godawful nickname he just couldn't get rid of any more than those sweaters she kept knitting for him. Otherwise, she was the loveliest mother-in-law in the world, but that song and those horrible sweaters...
Peter had stood up to embrace her, but Maddie pushed them both back down onto the couch.
"Actually, this is perfect. Mom, you can sit right here. Lizzie, Dad, come sit over there, facing them," she ordered.
Alan slowly walked over to them. Funny how the psychiatrist in the family never seemed to be around when his wife and daughter were arguing. "What's going on?"
"It's your 40th wedding anniversary – that's what's going on! And now we're going to play a game to celebrate."
"You were serious about that?" El asked while she sat down across from Peter like she had been told. Peter hadn't figured out yet for what purpose.
"Lizzie, when have you ever known me not to be serious about playing a game?" Maddie replied.
Tina tried to stand back up. "But I don't have time..."
Maddie pushed her back down. "You took care of other people for 40 years. You have time, Mom, trust me."
When the four of them were all sitting, Maddie retrieved a bag from upstairs and handed each of them a small whiteboard and a marker.
"Um, I'm not playing," Peter said quickly.
"Of course, you are. This is a couple's game, and Mom and Dad need someone to play against. It's perfectly simple. I'll ask you questions and you have to write down your answers at the same time. Then you hold them up, and if your answers match, you get a point. The couple with the most points wins."
Peter's eyes widened. "I already hate this game."
"You haven't even played it yet!" Maddie protested.
"Don't have to. If I answer correctly and win, I risk upsetting my in-laws. If I give the wrong answer, I'll get in trouble with my wife. I'm pretty sure that's a lose-lose situation."
Alan removed the cap from his marker. "Sounds to me like you're scared, Peter."
Surprised, Peter looked at his father-in-law, but then he remembered that the Mitchells had always been into playing games. Probably because it was a valuable learning opportunity from a psychological standpoint. The only problem was, they all liked to win and hated to lose. Peter respected that because he was the same way, but not when it meant angering people who could make his life miserable.
It seemed he didn't have a choice, though. "I'm not scared. El and I only have to remember ten years, not 40, so I'm pretty sure we have the advantage here."
El shot him a look, surprised that he was taking on her father.
"The advantage of youth, perhaps, but also its weaknesses – overconfidence and a lack of experience," Alan replied.
"Peter and I have plenty of experience in a lot of things, some I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to hear about," El got on board, teasing her father.
"Oh, darling, that threat works both ways," Tina warned her with a chuckle, the nature of which Peter really didn't want to know.
Maddie clapped her hands. "I see we're all warmed up! Excellent. Then here's your first question. It's an easy one. On the day you met, who saw the other one first?"
Peter smiled to himself because he would never forget how El had literally taken his breath away when she had walked towards him in the lobby of the DeArmitt Gallery. She had done so lots of times since, but nothing would ever quite compare to that moment. Only that wasn't the question.
He wrote down, 'Same time.'
When he looked up, El had a guilty look on her face that told him that this was not going to go the way he had thought it would. Her board said, 'I did.'
"I might have checked you out from inside the office," El confessed before he could even open his mouth to ask.
"Oh, so when you told me that you had kept me waiting because it had been a busy morning…?"
"That was the truth, but also I had never spoken to the FBI before so I was stalling just a little bit."
Peter frowned. "I didn't realize I looked so terrifying."
"Honey, you didn't. The only reason I came out of the office when I did was that you looked so perfectly handsome," El said, causing them both to smile.
"Cute, but you still don't get a point for that," Maddie told them. Alan and Tina on the other hand were in agreement that Alan had seen her first. Maddie marked their score on another whiteboard. Peter had a feeling that the teacher in her was enjoying herself immensely. "Second question: What did you do on your third date? And no, not the first one, everybody knows that!"
Peter remembered the third date as well as the first one, but he glanced at El because he wasn't sure how detailed and truthful she wanted to answer this. She seemed to be writing a lot.
Maddie stepped right into his line of sight. "Eyes on your own board, Peter!"
Yup, definitely enjoying herself.
"Okay, let's see it!"
This time, Peter laughed when he saw El's answer. She had written, 'We cooked Tagliatelle al Salmone after grandma's recipe together at my place, had expensive wine the FBI had confiscated, talked late into the night, and in the morning, we got interrupted by my nosy big sister.'
Maddie clicked her tongue. "Insulting the game master is never a smart choice, sis. But I'll give you this one because I think it's funny how you both found ways not to say what you were actually doing."
Peter had written, 'Cooked dinner at El's place, talked, stayed over, met her family.' Despite El's earlier warning they had both opted not to go into the details of that particular night. It was enough that they both remembered it when they exchanged a long look while Maddie's attention was on her parents.
"Now, Mom, Dad, what's this?"
Alan had written, 'Took her dancing,' but Tina's board said, 'Took a drive to a lake for a long walk.' Peter smirked while they began to argue about who had gotten what mixed up.
His smirk disappeared quickly when he heard the next question. "What was your first fight about?"
He had no idea what qualified as their first fight in El's eyes. He was tempted to simply put down 'coming home late from work' because that seemed like a safe bet. But he had a feeling it might also get him in trouble. So Peter decided to choose something slightly more specific.
'Going too far in trying to protect El,' his board said when he turned it around. He liked that answer because it had a positive aspect to it, and Peter would never be sorry about protecting her.
Maybe that's why El smiled, even though her answer was, 'Trusting each other.'
Maddie shook her head. "Nope."
"Why not? You said our answers needed to match. These are two sides of the same coin," El argued.
"Then write that next time," Maddie brushed her off and focused on her parents.
Their boards said the exact same thing: 'Emily Meyerson.'
"Wow, there's got to be a story there. Who is Emily Meyerson?" Maddie asked curiously.
"She was your father's fiancée before we met," Tina answered, which was clearly news to both sisters.
El turned towards her father next to her. "You were engaged before you met Mom?"
"Or were you engaged until you met Mom? Is there a family scandal here we don't know about?" Maddie added.
Alan shook his head at both of his daughters. "Emily and I had known each other since childhood. It was a union that both of our parents wanted more than we did – which I realized when I got to know your mother. That is all."
"All you're going to tell us, you mean, because clearly, it was messy enough to cause your first fight."
"That is a very astute observation, sweetheart, but we still get a point, don't we? Which means we're pulling ahead," Alan pointed out.
"You can have this round. At least, Peter and I were only ever engaged to each other," El said, giving him a smile. Plus, they weren't very good at fighting, so Peter wasn't surprised they got this question wrong – according to Maddie, anyway.
Next to him, Tina leaned forward. "That is not altogether true, honey. You were engaged to Seth Parker once."
Peter's eyebrows shot up. "Who the hell is Seth Parker?" He had never heard of that guy before, not in a decade of being with El and not in the (never to be mentioned again) background check he had done on her that one time.
El rolled her eyes at her mother. "That was in second grade," she explained.
"All of second grade," Tina corrected her.
"Oh, I think I remember him!" Maddie chimed in. "You were holding hands all the time and he did everything you told him to do. It was hilarious."
More than a little intrigued, Peter looked back at El. "Who broke up with whom?"
"I don't remember." His wife shrugged, wanting to move on from this.
Unfortunately for her (but fortunately for Peter), her mother did not. "It was quite tragic," she told Peter. "It was Valentine's Day, and Alan brought home three roses, one for each of his girls. Maddie and Lizzie got very excited about that. But poor Seth Parker had no idea he was supposed to do something like that. So he didn't give her anything and she broke up with him, too young to realize that this was the first time her father had interfered."
"All I did was show her that she should aim higher than Seth Parker," Alan defended his actions.
"The poor boy was seven years old and heartbroken," Tina said, but she was laughing.
Peter meanwhile made two mental notes – one, to look up Seth Parker when he was back at work, and two, not to forget Valentine's Day ever again.
El seemed to read his mind. "Don't you even think about it!" she threatened.
"What? Getting you a rose for Valentine's?" Peter asked, feigning innocence.
"No, looking up Seth as if he grew up to become a serial killer," El clarified.
"You never know. I wouldn't even know how to go on after losing you," Peter said simply.
The look on El's face softened and she seemed tempted to get up and walk over to him, but Maddie intervened.
"Save it for later, guys. We have a game to finish."
And so they did, and there didn't seem to be an end to the questions Maddie had in store. Who had said 'I love you' first?
(El. Although Peter tried to make a case that he had said something along the lines of her being 'impossible not to love', which El informed him didn't count. To which Peter would have almost replied that it had been good enough for them to end up in bed together, but he remembered just in time that he was sitting right across from her father.)
Who surprised whom more frequently?
(Peter. Although the question didn't specify if that was in a good or in a bad way. He was pretty good at both.)
Who had been more nervous about the wedding?
(El. No argument there.)
Who usually gave in first when they weren't seeing eye to eye on a decision that had to be made?
(Peter. No argument there either, at least not once Peter reminded them of that time when El had insisted that they needed new curtains. Of course, Peter hadn't really given in so much as El had simply gone right over his head – and paid for it with a sprained ankle. Nevertheless, it had kind of set the tone for these situations. Now, Peter would always rather give in than see her get hurt.)
But Alan and Tina matched them at almost every turn. It was obvious why they had made it to 40 years and were still going strong.
Eventually, they heard a car coming up the driveway. "That must be Uncle Dave. Okay, final question then," Maddie said. "The one to decide it all. Everyone ready? What do you value the most in your relationship – what has it given you?"
Peter thought he had done well so far, not only because they currently stood at a tie, but because none of his answers had caused any serious quarrels with this wife. This question felt like a major one, though, and Peter was drawing a blank. How was he supposed to put into words what his marriage meant to him?
"Time's up," Maddie announced when they heard the banging of car doors outside. "Mom, Dad, you look rather sure of yourselves."
"For good reason, sweetheart," Tina replied sweetly.
And she wasn't wrong. Her board said, 'Our children,' while Alan had specified, 'Our daughters.' In hindsight, it had been the obvious answer.
"Lizzie, Peter, your turn."
El looked a little overwhelmed, but Peter wasn't sure if she was moved by her parents' answer or worried about her own. When they both turned around their whiteboards, Peter smiled. They looked very different at first glance, but essentially, it was the same answer.
El had tried to put the dilemma Peter had felt into words. She had written, 'Trust. Safety. Respect. Intimacy. Joy.'
Peter had written, 'Everything.'
"Good answer," El said with a chuckle.
"Not as elegant as yours," Peter admitted.
"And not the same," Maddie added.
"Of course, it is. 'Everything' includes everything that El wrote," Peter argued.
Maddie shook her head. "Everything and more than that."
"Well, there is only so much room on this whiteboard," El pointed out.
"Try to write smaller next time," Maddie advised her.
Peter looked at his wife. "I have a feeling this game is rigged."
"Be that as it may, I'm giving this point to Mom and Dad, which means we have a winner!" Maddie announced.
That very second the doorbell rang and prevented Alan and Tina from reveling in their victory, which was just fine with Peter.
Instead, everybody got up to welcome the new arrivals. In the typical chaos that ensued, El slipped away to go upstairs, and Peter followed her.
He found her in their room, looking for something in her bag, and he gently closed the door behind him. When El turned around, Peter held up his whiteboard that he had brought with him before Maddie could confiscate it.
It said, "Sorry we lost."
El laughed. "That's okay, hon. It is my parents' anniversary after all. They deserve to win."
"I strongly suspect that is exactly why they won," Peter said, sitting on the bed. "I hope your sister is more impartial when she's playing with her kids at school."
"Even if she isn't, I don't think they know that word yet," El replied and sat down next to him. "Anyway, I thought we did pretty good."
"More than good," Peter nodded.
"There's one thing I've been meaning to ask you, though," El said, taking his hand. "What did you mean when you said you wouldn't know how to go on if you lost me?"
Peter shrugged, surprised that she felt the need to bring that up. "Exactly that. That I wouldn't know how to live without you."
"But you know that I would want you to live, right? And not just for work either!"
"Well, work would be the only thing I'd have left."
"That's not true," El argued. "You'd have Satchmo, and all of our friends and family, and I'm sure, eventually, you'd find..."
"No," Peter interrupted her roughly, but he couldn't help himself. He was not going to go there, not even in a hypothetical scenario.
"Honey..."
"I thought the plan was to be your parents, not mine," he pointed out.
El smiled softly. "Yes, but you know what they say about the best-laid plans."
"That you should marry an event planner to make sure they all work out?" Peter said, pressing a kiss to her hand.
She burst out laughing, and the sound only confirmed that he wasn't interested in a world where it didn't exist.
El rested her chin on his shoulder. "In that case," she said, "this event planner plans to love you forever. Does that sound like enough time?"
"No," Peter said, kissing her forehead. "But it's a start."