Implosions
Pt 2/3

Having taken the time out to retrace where in God's name this thing went so totally wrong, as well as to marvel at his ex-wife's uncanny ability to smell an implosion through brick walls, Andy was none the wiser as to why Sharon had seemed lacklustre tonight. He hadn't dared to indulge in too much of a retrospective in case the two ladies decided to clash again over — or even worse, to agree on — his shortcomings. No, he had deemed two minutes sufficiently ample for cooling off.

Andy crossed the house with the mission to talk with her again, and, at some point, to slip in an apology. Though he was very much of the opinion that he had not been in the wrong here and was not the one needing to plan for an apology. Sure, he had been an ass if you looked at it so creatively, but she was over-reacting in her lousy mood. In his book, she was the unreasonable one right now. In her book too, his unhelpful subconsciousness helped, she most likely was.

The demon on his shoulder told him to ditch the understanding and go yell at her. It didn't sound appealing in the least. If anything, he felt bad for comments he hadn't even said. The temperamental part of him wanted to throw up at the wimpy idea. Maybe he couldn't just be mad with her, in any degree, any more. Wouldn't that be the kicker!

He stopped mid-chuckle to his own insane musings. She was standing in the corridor, pulling on her coat.

Running away.

Great.

Just absolutely fucking great.

"You going?" Andy asked with a sneer.

She didn't get the memo, luckily, only answering with her usual quietly determined tone, "I am. I'm sorry for — that."

"And not for sneaking off?"

"Well, that too. Tell them something came up and I had to go. Apologize."

"Shouldn't you go and tell them yourself?"

Why should he make any excuses for her? He had given enough excuses to his family already, so sorry for not feeling ecstatic over this prospect.

Briefly he congratulated himself for keeping his finely-tuned sarcasm to himself. Mild snark he could live with. The red-clad dude on his shoulder whispered praises for managing to be a shadow of his old self.

"Easier if not," she said mutedly and went through her pockets.

"Easier for whom?"

"Oh give it a rest, Andy!" The raised voice seemed to catch Sharon by surprise and she paused to stare at the wall to calm down. "Fine, I'm a coward for going without facing the disappointment I cause. I'm not in the right mindset to keep arguing or to offer measured apologies." She turned to tie the sash of her trench, biting out, "But you forget this is all a sham anyway, it doesn't matter."

"We are not a sham, Sharon," he had to object, vehemently. "Yeah, the perception of this is a sham, but the friendship is not." He made a split-second decision for good or bad. "Stay there."

"Andy, I —"

"Stay, there," he repeated sternly and left her.

Sharon couldn't hold in the surprise. First the man lies to her, then offers hurtful remarks about her life and next dares to order her about! The nerve on him!

She should leave. Go out, walk a block and call a cab. And block his number.

Why wasn't she going? Come on, Sharon, grab the handle and walk!

Or she should behave like an adult, apologize for ruining the night, leave, calm down and call to apologize and explain later.

Why wasn't she explaining anything? Trust him, open up, woman!

Yet she knew she was incapable of doing either. It would have been better to not come today. Cancelling wouldn't have mattered, still, for some reason she had wanted to come.

Andy came back shrugging into his jacket, paying no mind to her surprise nor her contemplation.

"Alright, let's go."

Sharon was even more surprised he wasn't surprised she had stayed. And she was surprised he was going.

"Andy, you can't leave," she managed to say as he passed her, "Stay, don't ruin the night."

He stopped in his tracks and straightened his collar.

"If you're going, I'm going."

"Don't be a stubborn ass!"

"I am and will forever be."

It was said with pride and it made her scoff.

"You are not blowing off your family for me. We can continue the fight whenever."

"I'm not blowing them off and we are not going to fight."

Again with the self-assured certainty!

"You are starting to get on my nerves," she warned him.

"Add the 'Lieutenant' if you like. No? So let's go."

Sharon sat down on the hallway bench with another scoff. When had she become the irritable one in their relationship? He didn't seem at all fazed. Apparently her irritableness needed some finesse to get to him. What a deflating thing to notice.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked of his shoes.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I'm a moody bitch. What's your excuse?"

"I'm a stubborn asshole who's not giving up on a friend," he told her softly.

"So rather you give up on your family time. Well," she blistered, "makes sense, you're practiced in it."

"Yeah, that's it. Feel better now?"

"No."

The quiet admission bowed her head and the way she stilled made it evidently clear that she was more hurt by her words than he was, so Andy crouched down and placed a palm on her knee. She hid her eyes from making contact with him.

"Look," he said keeping his approach as soft as possible to tell her he wasn't feeling as confrontational as he had pretend to be, nor was he taking her words to heart, "Sharon, we can keep having the impasse trading insults if that's what you want. We can sit here and sulk. Or you can give in, we'll leave and talk about what's really wrong."

"Or you can stop being an asshole and go spend the evening with your family," she started distantly before turning venomous again, "After all, it is what you needed. What you want me for."

Sharon realised she probably made a mistake with the verbs, but still offered him an icy stare.

Andy's return was an impassive one. He could wait, not every poke deserved a push back. She was vulnerable, she was lashing out and emotional in a way he hadn't seen from her before.

"What if I don't want to do this with you," she filled the silence, "have you considered that?"

He hadn't considered anything but.

"Well, let's have different choices. We both stay or we both go. Whatever happens then we'll negotiate later. Your choice."

"And I've made my choice! You stay, I go. Why is everything so damn difficult with you!"

Her vehemence forced the corners of his lips upwards. She was adorable, fighting free with lame sniping without realizing he had her no matter what. Without realizing there was nothing stopping her from going if she truly wanted to. Unless she wanted to delude the both of them into thinking a simple touch from him could literally ground her. Giddy with the laughable thought, his grin couldn't be stopped to the corners only.

"Because you're a stubborn bitch —"

"Dad? Sharon?" Nicole called out from down the hall, "I thought you needed to go." Getting no response, and having only heard her father, she stated plainly, "You're fighting."

"No, sweetheart," Andy contradicted, eyes still fixed on Sharon, the palm on her knee never moving an inch, "we are not."

"I can't believe it!" Nicole exhaled. "This was too good to be true. Mom and Dad in the same building for a dozen times in a row and no fights. Should have known it was just an act. Players changed."

The hurt and disappointment grated Sharon's insides and measuredly she tried to comfort her without taking her eyes off Andy, "Nicole, it is not what you think. I am trying to convince your father to stay."

"A fight is a fight, be it over cheating or newspaper sections," she stated plainly. "I'm getting so tired of this. The boys shouldn't have to hear all of the adults in their life constantly fighting. Why do I bother!"

"I — I'm sorry." Sharon broke the staring contest to plead with the distressed young woman. "This is all my fault. Please don't blame your father one bit. I am behaving poorly and he is trying to stop that. He is not fighting with me."

"Really?" Sharon instantly recognized the confrontational stance Nicole had adopted, largely because the girl's father had graced her with an identical one time and time again over the years. Even the tone was filled with the same challenge as she went to remark, "Bitch is a term of endearment now? Didn't use to be where I grew up."

Thinking of her and Andy's confrontations and the way the word 'bitch' had used to sound escaping him as opposed to how it had sounded just now made Sharon's lips quiver.

"In this case I think it might be," she barely managed to tell Andy before breaking into a full smile.

"Well", he said with a supporting smirk, being straight off on the same page, "traditionally my fondest thoughts of you include the word bitch or witch, so I guess it must be."

They laughed and Sharon reached to squeeze Andy's arm.

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted. Now, if you would be so kind as to give in as well, we could stop upsetting my children."

"I'm sorry, I won't give in. I am leaving, you should stay. I am nothing compared to your family," she tried to persuade him, "We can talk later, but you have so little time with them."

"If I stay, I'll wind up upsetting them even more by fretting over you."

"So, we're back at square one. I won't let you leave and you won't let me leave alone."

Andy stared at her in contemplation.

"We need to start thinking creatively. You could always stay. Yeah, yeah," he dismissed the protests she was gearing for, "not good company. But you could wait right there and not move your stubborn ass until your stubborn ass will be done."

"Or 'my' stubborn ass could surprise all of us and sensibly do as I tell him for once. I know, I know," she countered with a roll of her eyes, "why break a habit of twenty years."

"Standoff," he concluded with a smile.

"Standoff," she agreed.

"Or you could always ask the only rational person in the room?" They both turned around, completely having forgot Nicole listening in on their sparring. "The rational person here says," she pointed from herself to Sharon, "you, don't be stubborn. You're very kind to think of Dad and us first, but it's alright to put yourself ahead now and then. If Dad wants to do something nice and take care of you, you let him. And you," she pointed at Andy, "don't be so stubborn. You're not always right, so do as she tells you on occasion. Take care and don't let go of her. She's good for you. Go —"

"See," Andy interrupted his daughter with no little amount of glee, "even she agrees with me!"

"So you're both wrong," Sharon responded affectedly imperious, "You really should stay."

"Hey, rational person not done!" Nicole almost jumped on the spot to get their attention again. When she had it, she continued more levelly, "Now, if you two would stop bickering, leave and go make up, we could try a family dinner tomorrow, just the six of us, alright? Acceptable compromise?"

"Fine by me," Andy answered with a wild grin.

"No arguments from here," Sharon conceded.

"Good. Now, out," Nicole told them shooing Sharon to her feet and through the front door, "And if we could manage tomorrow without another lover's spat, it would be appreciated," she finished slamming the door closed behind their backs.

Standing out in the darkening Sunday afternoon, the wind carrying the echoes of sirens and traffic, they just stared ahead too dumbfounded to keep walking.

"She called this a lover's spat," Sharon mused after a minute.

"Yeah, I noticed." Andy sighed and shook his head in chuckles, "Well, this fight is asinine. Fight or whatever you want to call it."

The laughter came to bite back on his ass, since it got her to snap again, "You knew I don't like lies and still you chose to do it!"

"Hey, hey," he tried calming her down with both palms and a sympathetic tone, "Sharon, you aren't saying me playing dumb on dance terms is this big a deal."

"It isn't," she directed past his shoulder, "but it shows you can't be trusted. That I shouldn't think you're someone I could..."

The rest of it faded into the hum of traffic and wind. Andy waited for her to come back to the thought, to reformat it like her custom was.

When there was no second attempt, he prompted, "You could what?"

Her soft tone was gone, her pensive look turned to focus.

"Doesn't matter. A lie is a lie, to misquote your daughter."

Andy sighed, again. This push and pull was getting old. He wished she could either yell at him or talk to him, reasonably. Either or, not this mix of both. He was quickly finding he did have his limits where it came to her.

Last chance for nice and soft.

"Sharon, what is this about?"

She scoffed and looked away.

Fine.

Confrontation it is. Her choice.

"You can show your displeasure all you want, but I'm just as stubborn as you."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but it's none of your business."

"Sorry to say, but if it makes you bite my head off and upset my children, it is my business at least up to a point." Imitating her line, the one that started all this, in the hopes of getting her to relax again, Andy cocked his head and pried, not as gently, "So, would you like to tell me what's wrong or do you want to keep being difficult?"

"The latter, please."

Her terse statement led the situation to tense silence.

Fine. If she wasn't going to talk, he wasn't either. See how long she lasted.

Andy prepared for a long, long, standing around in his daughter's driveway.

He was happily disappointed not minutes later.

"Know that this is nothing to do with you," Sharon filled the silence softly, "it's just other things in my life."

Well, that cleared up a lot. Not. Women, he was never going to understand them.

Andy knew he was out of his depth. Something he didn't understand had happened. Something that made her run hot and cold and everything in between. In a way he was proud she felt safe enough with him to lash out, but in another way it painfully manifested how she wasn't safe enough. She felt the need to hide she was uncomfortable, conflicted and very much out of her depth too. That he understood, but for God's sakes, the woman could try opening up.

To achieve that, he tried once more. Gently, softly.

"Other things like what?"

"Like those crappy things that are none of your business."

"So why get hostile with me?"

"I'm not hostile!" she denied with explosive force which made her look away, in shame, he presumed: her emotional outbursts seemed to take her by surprise. "We should quit while we are not that behind," Sharon summed more evenly and stormed for the car.

As she reached the handle of the passenger's door, she closed the matter with an order barked over the roof.

"Get me home."