Book Three, Part Twenty-Four: I Forgive You
Meredith's Point of View
"That was really good." Derek said, as he finished the rest of his dinner.
"You mean compared to high school?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"No…well, yeah. A certain memory comes to mind." He smirked.
"Oh come on! I was sixteen! How was I supposed to know not to put metal in the microwave?" I asked.
"Um…Mom. I have known that since I was five." Mia piped in.
I threw her a mock glare. She just smiled and got up to gather our plates and take them to the sink.
Little Smart Aleck.
I looked over to Derek where his eyes were trained on Mia. I turned back to Mia and watched her dance all over the kitchen, cleaning it up.
"She is so full of life." He murmured.
I looked at him curiously.
He gave me a sideways smile.
"You have to remember I just met her. You have known her her whole life."
"True but that doesn't make me any less amazed." I pointed out.
"I didn't mean it that way." He said immediately.
"No, I get it." I told him. Then an idea struck me. I got up and held my hand out for him. He smiled as he took it and grinned even wider as that familiar electricity jolted us. I rolled my eyes and led him to the living room. I indicated that he should sit down on the couch. I strolled over to the bookcase and grabbed a thick red leather covered book. I sat down next to him and offered it to him.
He looked at it.
"What is this?" He asked.
"Open it." I told him with a smile.
With one last look at me, he did. He looked back at me with tears in his eyes and then back down at the first of many pages of the book. His finger reached out and he traced the fourteen-and-a-half-year-old memory.
He let out a shuddering breath and hung his head. Then the crying started in earnest. Loud, racking sobs. Sobs so loud that Mia rushed in from the kitchen in alarm.
"What did you do to him, Mom?" She asked accusingly.
"What makes you think I did something?" I asked.
"You are calm, and he is crying bitch baby tears." She pointed out.
"Watch your language." I admonished.
She just looked at me.
"Do something." She demanded.
"Derek…Derek?" I sighed. "She was five minutes old in that picture. She was a little stubborn, made me wait hours before she came. It was an indication of things to come apparently." I shot her a look. She came over and sat down on the other side of Derek so that we flanked him. "They just put her in my arms. She was all pink and small."
"She was beautiful." He said shakily. "She is beautiful."
Okay he was talking now, that was good.
"I didn't know what to do with her. I mean, they don't teach you how to be a parent. There are books but that only helps so much." I flipped the page. "Oh, this was her first diaper change. Messy of course. And that is her first smile. Now Dad said it was gas, but I think differently." Another page. "My mom holding her for the first time. She crapped all over her. I high fived her."
"Mom!" Mia said.
"What? Your grandmother has the tendency to piss me off." I said.
Derek chuckled.
Another page.
"Her first bout with baby food. Hawaiian Delight if I remember correctly. She always was a good eater. Oh, and here is her eating strained beets. Not her favorite." Another page. "First time rolling over. First time sitting up…and falling over. It took her a while to get the hang of it." I explained.
We turned page after page. Her first steps, her first time running, her first time falling, her first haircut, her first day of preschool, her first day of kindergarten, first lost tooth, her trip to Disneyland, her first slumber party, all her birthdays, all her memories, all our memories…I shared them all. With the one person who couldn't be there, but desperately wanted to.
I closed the book and looked at him.
"Thank you." He said sincerely, his eyes still a little glassy and red.
I smiled and nodded in Mia's direction. She was curled up, sleeping soundly on the couch.
"We need to get her to bed." I told him.
I went to wake her up, but he stopped me. He stood up and then leaned down to scoop her up.
"Lead the way." He instructed.
I led him to her bedroom, decorated in muted yellow and cream. He gently placed her down on the bed and covered her up, kissing her forehead when he was done.
"I love you Daddy." She murmured.
"I love you too, baby. So much." He choked out. I wiped a few stray tears from my face.
He walked over to me when she started breathing deeply again.
We just stood there looking at our link, the person where past, present and future met.
"I should go home." He said.
"It's late. Sleep in the guest room." I said.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
"We just went through a really rough day. And then a very emotional night. You don't need to drive all the way home tonight. Stay." I said.
"Yes." He accepted.
Once again, I was leading, this time to the guest bedroom. "Everything you need is in there. Mark probably has a pair of shorts you can wear to bed."
At his hesitant look, I rolled my eyes.
"The pissing match is over. He is staying at Lexie's tonight, much to their mutual satisfaction, I am sure." I teased.
"Are you really alright with that?" He asked.
"Yes. I am." I said simply.
"Good. I am just going to go…in there…to bed." He stuttered, backing away from me.
For the life of me, I don't know what happened to me in that moment. Maybe it was the horrifying experience of having a gun at your head, or the emotional ordeal of sharing the most important part of your life with someone you have a past with, but before I knew it, my hands were in his hair, his back was against the wall and my lips were on his.
It was a kiss, fifteen years in the making. It was desperate, it was passionate. There was no gentleness, no softness. This was raw and emotional. The kind of kiss that makes you forget to come up for air. The kind of kiss where your teeth clash together and your saliva mixes, but you don't care because you are so addicted that you don't need air and who the hell cares about slobber at a time like that.
Too soon it was over. We both panted and gasped as we looked at each other and I wanted nothing more than to drag him to my room and do it again and again but knowing I had an impressionable daughter and that we were moving too quickly but not quickly enough and it was all feelings and confusion and all I could say in that moment, all I wanted to say, was three little words but not the words one would expect.
"I forgive you."
Three words, however, that meant more than anything else to the person standing in front of me.
Three words that would change our lives more so than they already have.