A/N: Honestly, just like 100% extra-gooey fluff. Thank you, truly, for reading (or rereading) this beast of a story, if that is something you did in this absolute dumpster fire of a year. I have other things I am planning on sharing (or re-sharing) in the near-ish future, but as this is truly my fic!baby, this one and the original version will always hold a special place in my otherwise cold black heart. This fic has/had a sequel as well (more just like a series of one-shots), and although that is not next on my list to write or revisit, it's not off the table. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Chapter 60. For a Long, Long Time
It's the sixth night in a row they've gone for a walk, and even though they do the same route each time, each time still feels a little like the first. Kate and Henry will sometimes pick out a new detail – penguin window clings they hadn't noticed before or a festive garden stake that was mostly hidden under fresh snow the previous night, for example – but for the most part, they marvel over the same holiday decorations and make the same exact comments.Christmas makes everything more magical though, and eight and two are such fun ages, Addison thinks. Not that there haven't been moments recently where she'd love to lock the kids out of the house, because there definitely have been. She and Mark agree the holiday season is exhausting with children. Fun, yes, but exhausting.
These nightly walks are calming though. Their neighborhood has been utterly transformed this December. Snow-tipped wreaths hang from front doors; seasonal greenery and bows are twisted around iron railings; a few lingering dreidel banners droop from visible mantles; colorful lights are stretched snugly around windows; and acrylic snowmen, reindeer sets, and assorted inflatables (Kate's favorite is the snow globe, and Henry likes the polar bear one) are displayed on stoops and walkway steps.
"Just look, Henry," Addison warns. Her son is balanced on Mark's shoulders, and she has issued this reminder each time they pass beneath one of the trees lining the sidewalk. At his newfound height advantage, Henry is tall enough to graze his fingers against the starlight spheres and ornaments (plastic, at least) dangling from bare branches. "Looking and no touching." Not for the first time, Addison feels a sharp pang when she remembers that Henry – her baby – will be three next month. She already feels wistful for age two, even though many, many things about Henry will not change just because he will turn three. Addison is certain her son will still want to make cars or houses out of discarded cardboard boxes, fold his fingers near his ears when he's tired, and say "oh thank you" instead of just "thank you." He will still think chocolate milk comes from brown cows and he won't wipe his mother's kisses off his cheeks just yet.
"Mommy?" Henry says, neither acknowledging nor ignoring her request. "Will Santa -"
"It's too early for him to come," Kate interrupts, knowing exactly where this is heading. Her parents would have probably needed to hear the rest of the question. "We have time to put out milk and cookies. Plus, Santa only comes when kids are sleeping…not when they're outside."
"That's definitely right," Addison says. She glances down at her daughter, who is rather sweetly holding her hand this Christmas Eve. Kate peeks up at her with a conspiratorial grin. She started making inquiries last month and eventually reached the conclusion there is no Santa. But, luckily, she knows not to ruin this for her brother and seems to delight in making the season special for him.
"Back home?" Henry pipes up when they reach the end of the block.
Addison and Mark exchange a smile. "Back home," they answer, whispery clouds of breath shadowing the warmth of their words.
"Dad…" Kate looks back at the beach, where her mom and Henry are comfortably situated under the canopy tent. Henry actually fell asleep a few minutes ago, body stretched out like a starfish – a miracle, according to both parents. Kate sees her mom hold up a hand in an encouraging wave. Kate tries to smile in response, even though there is no way her mother can see her smile from here. She can't wave back though; she's much too nervous to let go. "Dad?" She says again, voice sharper, not sure if he heard her over the rumbling of the ocean.
"My feet are still touching the ground," Mark answers calmly. As soon as the water reached Kate's shoulders, her arms and legs went around him, tangling like stubborn seaweed. He can't remember the last time he held her like this. At least four years, Mark figures. "I promise I won't go any further. And if you want to go back to shore, that's okay, too," he adds as gently as he can. Kate was the one who wanted to try to swim out here (or at least wanted to want to), but only if Mark came with her. She's grown several inches in the past year, but in this moment, at age nine, she looks so young and so old all at once. Mark notices the droplets of saltwater on her exposed skin, a series of atomic seas clinging to her narrow shoulders. The end hairs of her red ponytail – the same head-turning color as her mother's – have been moistened by the water.
"Henry would like to be this far out. He probably…" Kate tries to sound good-humored rather than embarrassed that her brother would not be worried, nor would he be sitting on their dad's hip if they switched places. "He probably wouldn't even want to hold onto you…" she mumbles the last part, feeling like a giant baby. And she never used to be a giant baby about going past her knees in the ocean.
Which is exactly why I wouldn't bring that little maniac this far out, Mark thinks.
"That's because Henry is three. He just thinks of the ocean as another place to play," Mark tells her. "He doesn't think about it the way you do. You've learned about it in units at school, and in other things you've read." Mark doesn't say the words Kate has mentioned several times recently: currents and undertows. He can't remember their daughter ever being afraid of swimming in the ocean before this trip, but he and Addison have come to the conclusion it's not an unusual fear to have pop up. And it's not as easy to resolve as a toddler-Kate being afraid of the vacuum cleaner; they showed her there was no way the vacuum could suck her up. Kate's sudden apprehension about everything lurking under the ocean's surface is a bit more valid.
"I'm not afraid," Kate says, voice quivering. "I'm not."
"I know you're not afraid. You're very brave. But…just so you know, you're safe with me. And you can tell me if you want to go back." Mark waits, but his daughter doesn't say anything. He hears her rushed intake of air though when they briefly lift up with one of the waves. "Hey, Kate? Tell me five places you want to visit one day. Don't think about it too hard. Just name five places. I know you're not afraid, but sometimes it helps to think about other things instead of the things you're…not afraid of."
"Okay. Um." Kate looks at him, blue eyes and dark lashes blinking in the sunshine. It's the first time in the past few minutes that Mark has seen take her eyes off the shoreline. "Australia. Italy. Alaska. The Galápagos Islands – I don't actually know where that is, but I like the name and I bet it's really pretty there. And, um. Somewhere where I can go inside a sea cave. Oh, and Egypt. I want to see the pyramids. Well. That's actually six."
"Six is fine. Those all sound really good to me. Let's see what else…name five things you can see on dry land right now."
"Just things…or can it be people?"
"People, too. Whatever you want."
"Okay. Mommy. Henry. The canopy. Our house. And…" her mouth slashes into a grin as a giggle overtakes her. She technically can't see it from here, but she knows it's still on their porch: "Drew's sandal."
Mark laughs at this last one, too. Savvy and Weiss and the twins were here for a few days, but had to cut out early for a summer get-together with Weiss's side of the family. "Now…" Mark shakes his head. "Are you sure you want to marry a boy who isn't smart enough to remember to check to make sure he's packed both sandals?"
"Dad. You forget things all the time and mom still wanted to marry you."
"That's true. Hey, did I ever tell you Cape Cod is where I proposed to your mom?" Mark gestures towards the parchment-white sand. "Not too far from where your mom and Henry are right now. We were in the water, though – just up to our ankles."
"You asked Mom to marry you while you were in the water?"
"Yep. And it was raining, too." He smirks when Kate wrinkles her nose. "I know it seems weird, but it was a good proposal. Ask your mom if you don't believe me."
"Was I there?" Kate asks, of course wanting to know where she fits into all of this.
"You were with Aunt Sav and Uncle Weiss. We were all on vacation together, but you stayed with them at a hotel one night so I could propose to your mom. We went and picked you up the next morning though so we could celebrate together. It's kind of tough to hold a baby and propose at the same time. And it was good practice for Sav and Weiss – the twins arrived not too long after that." He pauses, watching her closely. "You doing okay, buddy?"
"Yeah," Kate answers. She has no intention of letting go, but Mark can tell she's more relaxed in his embrace and a little less anxious. "It's weird to think there was a time that me and Em and Drew weren't friends. Like a time that I didn't know them. And that there was a time that Savvy and Weiss didn't know them, either. Because…" Kate inhales deeply so she can catch her breath. Mark still feels right in his assessment that she's a little less anxious, but only a little. She's working through something in her head in that thoughtful, contemplative way of hers, but she tends to speak quickly like her mother when she's nervous. "Like, because…Mom was pregnant with us, so we weren't surprises. And Mom said that you guys loved me and Henry before you even knew us. So, before we were actually born."
"That's true."
"Savvy and Weiss didn't know for sure that Leslie was going to ask them to be Emmy and Drew's parents though. So they really didn't know the twins before they were born. Except, actually…" Kate pauses, considering something. "They did know they wanted to adopt a baby or babies, so maybe they did love their kids before they knew them…in some sort of way. I mean, I loved Henry before I knew him." Kate shrugs, water sluicing off her forearms. "And so maybe I loved Emily and Drew before I knew them, too…which means so did Savvy and Weiss. I think maybe you can love someone before you actually get to be together forever."
Mark smiles. His gaze flickers towards Addison. "I think so, too."
They're enjoying this more because they never get to do this. Well, that's inaccurate, Addison thinks as they exchange slow, lusty kisses. She didn't quite finish the thought once the groping beneath the sheets started, shortly after her husband kissed her awake. The truth is they still do a lot of this. But they don't get to do this in the morning, for the most part. Not when the desire to sleep in as late as they can manage on a weekday trumps anything else, and not with a ten year-old and a four year-old who are loud and needy all the time, especially in the morning when they are trying to get out the door.
But this is the weekend and their kids are far, far away at the moment. Everything in their Vermont rental home is quiet this morning, save for heavy breathing through slow, deliberate thrusts, and the slight rasp of the mattress wiggling beneath their tangled limbs. Side-by-side this time, they have the opportunity to alternate between holding each other close and exploring each other more freely with their hands, to build up the pleasure gradually (as opposed to a still-really-great, but more frantic pace behind a locked bedroom door), to see everything they are doing to one another where they are connected, and to preserve a meaningful, deep connection.
The end is anything but gradual though. The repositioning of a leg, the seizing of muscles, and the caressing of a few well-placed fingers ensure that they come together, voices heady as they reach an explosive, staggeringly enjoyable finish.
"Hi," Addison murmurs breathlessly, cuddling into Mark's chest when he rolls onto his back, using a hand to tug her with him. "And, wow…good morning."
"Hi and good morning yourself." His fingers play with her hair, still soft but now a bit tousled. Addison cut it shorter a few weeks ago, and though she likes the change, she is planning to let it grow out again. "What do you want to do today?"
"Sleep some more. And sleep with you some more. FaceTime the monsters at some point. And whatever else you want to do. You can take me somewhere nicer tomorrow night for dinner though since that will be our actual anniversary." She hears Mark make a noise of agreement, and feels his chin bobble above her head as he nods. Addison closes her eyes, and though she is sleepy, she can't quite fall back to sleep yet. And Mark is still running a hand over her upper back, so she knows he hasn't gone back to sleep yet either. "Mark?" She asks quietly. She opens one eye just enough to see snow curving to the ground outside their window. "When did…when did you know that you wanted me to be yours?"
"That's a cheesy one."
"Are you surprised?"
"No," Mark replies truthfully. "But I guess I expected it more on the eleventh or twelfth anniversary. Not number tin."
(The ten-year gift is tin. So this year is their Tin-iversary, according to Mark. They both know it isn't serious when Addison threatens to divorce him over his stupid puns, but she continues to make the threats anyway.)
Addison pouts a little at this accusation. "You think I'm going to be a little weird on the day it ends up being eleven years? And on year twelve when I officially have my longest marriage streak ever?"
"No, not think." Mark brushes his lips to her hairline. "I know you're gonna be a little weird, Red. But in a cute way."
"Well, at least it's a cute-weird, I guess. Anyway, back to my original, cheese-filled question."
Mark thinks he's answered some version of this before. Slightly different wording, he figures, because she has a freakishly good memory. And at any rate, it's hard to pinpoint. One day he just knew that he loved her. He loved her then, as he loves her now. So he tells her this much.
"But I guess…" Mark adds. "I know the feelings started well before this, but to give you a concrete example, there was this day when we were walking down Lexington. We just had lunch at some Italian place. It was supposed to be the three of us, but Derek wasn't able to make it. And as we were leaving the restaurant, because you're you, you were wearing heels while it was still icy on the ground. It was at the end of December, I think. Or actually, yeah, it definitely was, because we were talking about how weird the time between Christmas and New Year's is. So it would have been a couple months before…"
"I kissed you and you kissed me back," she finishes. It's more involved than that, of course, but that's how they think of it now.
"Right. And at one point while we were walking, you stumbled a bit – the shoes thing. And probably a few glasses of wine, too. So like the devilishly handsome superhero that I am though, I caught you before you ate it, and I just remember…I didn't want to let you go." His words soften at the end. "What about you? I know it's different for you, but…was there a particular moment?"
Addison smiles. "More like…a bunch of little moments. I think I loved you long before I allowed myself to think it though, let alone say it. The first night I slept over at your place though, when you held me. And then there was this one morning early on where we were spooning and you kissed my shoulder while you thought I was sleeping – it was really sweet. And when you helped me breathe. And when you took me to Cape Cod for the first time. But I guess more than a moment, it was mostly just that…you saw me. I might not have noticed as much before we kissed for the first time, but not long afterwards it dawned on me that every time I had felt invisible in my thirties, there you were – seeing me. You always saw me."
"Okay, you win, Red. Or lose, depending on your perspective. Your thing is cheesier."
"Maybe just a little. But since I'm not invisible and you still see me -"
"Hey…" Mark grins when she starts to climb on top of him. "I thought weird pick-up lines were my thing."
"Trust me: they still are."
"Fine. Ten more minutes!" Addison calls back from her spot on the beach blanket when the kids start to whine and thoroughly protest yet another request from her that they come out of the water – knee-deep only when no parents are in the ocean with them – so they can pack up for the day and head back to the house. It's another weekend in Cape Cod, late summer. Today the eleven year-old is sassy and the five and-a-half year old could do a much better job of listening. "Just…" she lowers her voice so only Mark can hear. "Just please shut up and leave me alone for all ten of those minutes."
"Amen," Mark answers. "Might as well let them have the extra time though. It'll be their last swim for a while." They are heading back to the city tomorrow. They plan to come up to the Cape a few more times in the fall and are going to be here for Christmas with Addison's mother, but it will be far too cold to get in the water again until late spring.
Addison smirks at this comment. "Not if your son has his way in a few months. The other coastline might be snow-less, but that doesn't mean the water is going to be warm…not that this will stop him."
"Right. He told me California, but he didn't say -"
"Monterey. Specifically, the Monterey Bay Aquarium. There's a kelp forest there that's supposed to be like three stories tall. He's excited to see the otters, sharks, and jellyfish, but he keeps coming back to the kelp – no idea why. And then he wants to put his feet in the Specific, aka the Pacific Ocean. And then I guess we'll hit a few other coastal spots while we're out there."
"California in the winter," Mark grins. "Lucky you guys. And lucky little guy, getting to go on a special trip with his mom. We're those parents, aren't we? The obnoxious ones who pull their kids out of school, like, right after winter break?"
"It's just one trip while he's in Kindergarten. Plus…babies don't keep. And neither do littles," she says, voice prickling with emotion. Kate and Henry are both so big now, and watching this happen feels like pride, warmth, and heartache all at once.
"You're telling me. What's the deal with the older one, by the way? She's been doing this weird hair-flipping thing in front of Andrew lately."
Addison laughs. "I think the word you're looking for is flirting."
"Please just kill me now."
"Nope. Sorry, Mark, but if I have to suffer through the pre-teen and teen years, so do you."
"Both asleep…" Addison announces that night when she comes back downstairs. The beach house stairs creak beneath her feet, and outside, rain is lightly falling. Thankfully the rain held off until they were inside for the evening. "Rosie, too."
Mark nods and gives her a smile. "Good. Not that that's going to be us anytime soon. Coffee after dinner was a terrible idea."
"True. We are kind of stupid sometimes. Hey though…" she grins. "Wanna do something else that isn't particularly well-advised?"
"I…think so?"
She smirks. "Good answer. Wanna go hang on the porch swing for a bit?"
"I'd love to."
Mark gets settled on the swing first, and then holds his arms out for his wife. It will be eleven years of marriage this December. And twelve of being together. Eleven and twelve beautiful years. Challenging and grueling at times, yes. But mostly just beautiful. Mark asked Addison recently while they were figuring out a few trip-related things for their family, if she wanted to do something special for their eleventh anniversary, something different than an expected weekend in Cape Cod or maybe Vermont. No, she told him. Cape Cod was perfect.
"This makes me think of you," Addison says quietly, voice cutting over the rumbling of the ocean in the distance.
"What does?"
"Oh, you know. The rain. And Cape Cod and the porch swing. There are a lot of other things that make me think of you, too…but mostly it's just the rain. Everything that first year with us, and then you proposed in the rain, but it's mainly just…when Kate was born, do you remember what you said?"
Yes. This one actually has stuck with him.
"I do." Mark tucks a wispy strand of hair back behind the ridge of her ear. "That it's raining and we're a family."
"Yeah. It's raining and we're a family," Addison repeats. She leans up on an elbow to kiss him, long and soft. Mark kisses her back, entangling his tongue with hers and holding her against him.
"As much as I'd like to stay like this forever…" Addison murmurs later, words sounding dream-like. She has lost track of how much time has passed, so focused she has been on this time with just her husband. "If one of the kids wakes up and needs us…"
"Yeah," Mark agrees. It's not likely to happen, but there's always a chance.
"A few more minutes first though." Addison settles back down on his chest. "I don't want this to end quite yet," she adds. Mark wraps his arms around her. They lie quietly, each noticing that at some point, the rain stopped and the brooding clouds parted overhead. Stars shine back at them now.
The end.
