Wendy woke up with a start, the early Colorado sunrise peeking out the windows in Stan's house. She looked up, noticing his arms were still around her. She slept comfortably against his chest, but that position couldn't have been comfortable for him. She slipped out of his embrace and laid him down on the couch. Stan stirred slightly, a smile on his face and Wendy couldn't help but admire once again how handsome he was…and sweet, caring, helpful, kind.
All the things that people would never use to describe Wendy. Especially with her former job in the public. Being around Stan had changed that, she wanted to return some of his kindness, but domestic stuff was not her strong point.
She went back to the table she was working at, she hoped Stan didn't see the lists she was making. She was planning out an intimate and possibly romantic dinner and party for the two of them the night of his birthday.
She learned her lesson with her frenzied cooking and planned to order gourmet Italian from the next town over and have it cook in the oven. She wanted to put up a cute banner, balloons, and streamers. She wanted him to have a special birthday dessert.
She wanted to give him whatever he wanted to make him happy. She knew it would be hard to leave the safety and comfort of his house. In her wildest dreams she wanted to ask if he would join her in Florida. Live in a simple beach house, take the dogs to play in the ocean every day. Be happy for once in her life.
She couldn't make him uproot like that, after a week of staying together. The media was right, she was selfish.
She made coffee now that Stan showed her how to use his simple Mr Coffee machine. She always had a Kurig in her past life and career. A cup of coffee for one, exactly the way she wanted it. Never thought to stop and think how everyone else would want it and how to share to make everyone happy. No wonder she was fired from politics.
So today was Thursday October 18th. Stan's birthday was tomorrow. When he left she would run to the neighboring town and order the food, pick up the cake, buy the decorations. She would get out of the house and hopefully not be recognized under her dark sunglasses and hair squashed under a ski cap. An old blue one with a red poof ball she found discarded in a drawer in the guest room.
One of Stan's dogs ran up to her and nudged her knee with his nose. She bent down and pet him on the head. She grew attached to these good boys and girls and would miss them along with Stan. She went to the back to make sure they were let out while she fed and gave them water.
Stan yawned and stretched and looked down to find himself tucked in but alone. He searched around before getting up.
Wendy entered and Stan again admired her when her hair was tousled and she was dressed down. "Sorry about last night." He said.
"I should apologize, your back and neck can't feel good in that position." Wendy said sheepishly.
"Nah, nothing a good shower can't fix. But you go in first. I told you I'd cook for you."
Wendy looked at him but nodded and went upstairs. Stan was slightly excited to see her with no makeup again and wondered if that made him weird.
He looked over his medical card, he was allowed a certain amount of dairy a week due to his vaganitus allergy and got a little extra for the month of October. Eating cereal with milk would be good again, but he felt sad that others had to go without.
Stan pushed the thought aside and went to the fridge grabbing eggs and orange juice. He never wanted to be completely useless in the kitchen and learned a few recipes from his mom. He looked through the fridge, inspiration sparking as he grabbed some English muffins and Canadian bacon to try and whip up an eggs benedict for him and Wendy. He'd use up the last of his butter for the sauce but he wanted to impress her.
Stan saw his phone light up. Eric Cartman on east coast time. Stan exhaled through his nose and picked up. "Hey, sup?"
"Happy Birthday, asshole."
"Thanks, ass master. It's not til tomorrow."
"The fuck? Martha. Martha! You're fired for getting my buddy's birthday wrong." Cartman screamed over the line.
"Dude, don't fire another receptionist on my behalf."
"Yeah yours was a charity case. How is Kenny's little sister working out?"
"Good vet, bad attitude. How many people have you ripped off since you got to work?"
"Come on Stan. I'm a hedge fund manager. I only care for the common good. You ever need some quick cash and need to put your house up as collateral. You know who to call."
"Not you." Stan rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the birthday wishes. Please don't scam me out of my house. I have to get ready for work."
"One more thing. Seems Karen and those mutts of yours aren't the only charity cases you're taking in these days." Cartman laughed.
"I'm gonna hang up on your ass."
"Why did Wendy go to you and not me? Aren't we both her ex boyfriends?"
"Okay I'll stop you right there, fatass. You were never together and she hates you. Don't ruin this for me."
"I'm sure you'll ruin it yourself, Stan. Last good birthday you had was at what? Age nine?"
Stan mixed his hollandaise sauce in a fury. "Well, maybe I'll finally get something I want for my birthday."
"I could hire you a stripper?"
"I'm good."
"Hooker?"
"I'm good."
"Is there anyone you want killed? I could arrange that for you."
Stan hung up on Cartman, he tossed melted butter in his sauce, making it splash against the back of his hand. He yelled a bit and wiped it off.
Cartman was an instigator and Stan was usually level headed when putting up with Cartman's bullshit. Stan wiped the back of his hand with a towel, he wouldn't have a serious burn. Just a little sting. Like when Cartman mentioned the kiss he and Wendy shared in elementary school, and she initiated it.
"Stan?"
He jumped again at the sound of his name, offering her the shower first had paid off as she appeared lovely in a simple sweater and jeans, drying her long hair in a towel. Skin on her face was fresh and red from the chill morning air. Stan wanted nothing more to get close and not let her go.
"Surprise." He smiled as he presented two plates of eggs benedict, expertly pouring the sauce. "Careful it's hot. I learned that the hard way."
Wendy sat down and grabbed his hand. "Ouch, does that burn hurt?"
"Nah I'm fine, might as well use the last of the butter."
He sat across from her and started to eat, the touch of her soft hand on his, but her concern was a bit annoying. But Stan hadn't had someone worry over him in a long time.
"What time is work for you?" Wendy asked, keeping casual. She wanted to get her errands done as quickly as possible without anyone seeing her.
"Um…ten minutes." Stan eyed the clock in the kitchen. He shrugged and gave her a grin as he took another bite of his breakfast. That smile made Wendy feel weak in the knees. "Karen's going to be pissed off at me whether I'm late or not. Should enjoy my morning."
"You're the boss." Wendy smiled at him. "I'm happy to share the mornings with you."
Stan took a deep breath, sharing the sentiment. He'd spend every morning with her if she wanted it. But she had her own exciting life, no room for a lame small town veterinarian. "We…share the evenings as well. Maybe more sometime?"
Wendy nearly choked on her food at this. Her eyes watered and she sipped her orange juice. "I'd love to, things aren't just right at the moment." She looked at him softly, blinking her eyes closed. Tears falling that can be blamed on the choking.
"Of course." Stan shoved the last of his eggs benedict in his mouth and chugged his coffee. He tossed the dishes in the sink and grabbed his keys.
"I thought you were taking your time this morning." Wendy said, knowing she had screwed up with her instinctual push back.
"I ah, forgot I have some cats to spay this morning. See ya." He didn't look at her as he slammed the front door. He let out a forlorn sigh as he got in his car. She knew he was lying but probably wanted the house to herself. She probably couldn't wait to get her own space again. He grumbled, trying to cover just how sad and lonely he realized he was, and having her there had broken something in him.
Maybe it was his heart.
Wendy stood in shock at his sudden exit. She was such a bitch. He was trying to do good on her and she pushed him away like she already did. She had this whole birthday surprise planned for him, and for what? To tease him? Then leave him? How awful she was. She wiped her eyes as she loaded the dishwasher.
Shane the blue healer came up to her and whimpered. He put a paw on her foot. She gave a little smile and bent down to pet the old dog. She would miss him, as much as Stan. She would get her shit together and make the most of the time she had with Stan and his dogs. Determined now she tucked her hair in the ski cap and put on the sunglasses. She dressed in a plain dark blue jacket and jeans, snow boots over and set out for the day to pick up her items in Middle Park.
Wendy got to the slightly larger city, an hour outside of South Park and parked her beat up car, slightly out of sight. She made her way down to the quaint grocery store to pick up some items and the cake she ordered for Stan. She walked down the aisles, going over if she should go full rainbow or stick to blue and red, Stan's favorite colors from what she remembered when they were young, or Broncos theme, which she was unsure if he would like or think is a little too kiddish.
Her basket ran right into contact with a tall, large man in a cowboy hat.
"Oh I'm so sorry." Wendy said quickly.
"It's okay, I'll let you go scott free if you give me a smile." The man said.
"Excuse me?" Wendy felt her face flush in anger.
"With a face as pretty as that, you should smile. Make the world like you more." The man teased her.
"Why should that matter?" Wendy grabbed a few items and threw them into her basket without looking. "I have to go." She moved her basket to the side but the man blocked her way.
"If you're not going to smile at me, at least give me a name, and a number." He grinned at her.
"Goddammit!" Wendy started to push herself backwards. She took the decorations in her arm to escape the creepy sexist guy.
She turned the corner just to overhear. "Man, women are so stuck up these days." The guy said to a passing by shopkeeper. "I was just tryin' to be friendly."
"Not with that one. She's that senator lady, the one who screwed us regular folk out of our milk!" The shopkeeper said back. "You could be as friendly as you can and just no winning with that type."
Wendy was fuming but tried to keep it under wraps. She went to the bakery counter. "Hi, I have a pick up for a custom cake." She slid the printed out receipt to the older lady behind the counter.
"Oh yes, the blue velvet cake with red buttercream. One moment." The lady went to the back to grab it.
The shopkeeper came behind the counter. "Name?" He drawled.
Wendy reddened again. "The other lady was already grabbing it."
"Name." The shopkeeper stood firm.
"Testaburger." Wendy said, looking down.
"Thought so. You see that shelf over there?" The shopkeeper pointed. "Milk was the one reason we got most of our customers in the store. You know why grocery stores keep the milk in the back? Because everyone needs to pick up milk but will see the other merchandise they need, turning a quick trip into a full blown grocery shopping spree."
"Okay." Wendy
"You see something funny for a grocery store on a Thursday morning? Usually this place is swarming with housewives with their babies, grabbing their groceries so they can make dinner for their husbands for the rest of the weekend? Now it's empty."
Wendy opened her mouth to talk back but was interrupted again.
"Worse yet? The milk goes bad so we end up having to throw it away. So the farmers sell us milk, we either order less which makes their profits go down but then it's a waste, or we don't sell which makes our profits go down if people aren't stopping in buying as many groceries. What do you have to say to that?" The shopkeeper glared at her.
The woman comes out with the cake now. "Buck, this lady has bought the most expensive custom cake."
"Yeah, I'm helping with your small business ordering a custom cake and groceries." Wendy says, anger rising now.
"I don't want your dirty politician money, I want my business back from good honest hardworking people, I want things to go back to the good ol' days, I want an apology for you taking away people's livelihoods, taking food off people's tables." The shopkeeper yells at her. "You…you're taking my job!" He screams at her.
Wendy simply drops the armful of streamers and balloons back in her basket and turns on her heel, out the front door. The man in the cowboy hat is hollering "took my job!" After her. Wendy books it into a run now to get as far away from the grocery store as possible.
Thankfully the little Italian bistro a few blocks over didn't hassle her and gave her the food she ordered. She paid in cash and didn't mention her name, already planning to answer Beth if asked.
Wendy walked through the streets of Middle Park, trying not to be seen by anyone at the grocery store again. She saw her car in the distance and cursed under her breath as she got closer. The old black sedan was covered in what smelled like rancid milk. A squashed blue velvet cake with red buttercream frosting smeared across her windshield and driver's door.
Wendy's hands shook in anger as she unlocked the car door and ran her windshield wipers. She knew she was being watched and high tailed her vandalized car out of there, on her way to the most secluded self serve car wash she could find.
Stan had closed the door to his office, knowing his appointments started at 11am unless there was an emergency. Karen smirked at him as he said to hold his calls.
He looked over at his phone again, teeth gritting. He lifted it to see if he could call Cartman back to tell him off. His phone lit up seeing it was a series of panicked texts from Wendy.
I'm sorry to do this. I got harassed at a grocery store and I'm too shaken up to drive.
I'll be right there.
Stan grabbed his coat and keys, knowing Karen was going to bitch him out again. He sheepishly walked to the front.
"Hey Karen, I have an emergency. Can you take care of my appointments today?"
Karen raised an eyebrow. "Yeah I guess. No surgery today. But Mrs. Johanssen is coming in to give her cats their yearly shots."
Stan ran a hand through his hair. "You can take care of that, right?"
"Yeah of course. Done it before." Karen said. Stan opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. "Some things have to get done around here, you've been taking off so much. I graduate from veterinary school in a few months. Took the initiative myself, no need to thank me."
Stan smiled and put his hands on her shoulders. "Karen McCormick, you have an attitude but you're a great assistant. This office will miss you when you graduate to open your own practice." He hugged her quickly, even if she was slightly weirded out.
"See you Monday!" Stan called out.
"See you. Happy birthday. Twenty eight is old!" Karen yelled back.
Stan took off outside and called Wendy quickly. "Hey where are you?"
"Off the road outside of middle park. I stopped to clean my car and ran into some trouble. Too upset to drive."
"Okay Wendy. I'm going to ride a taxi out there and meet you. Be careful. Close the door and lock the car."
"Okay, I'm used to it. I was living in my car before."
Stan's heart broke at her words. She deserved so much better. He called a local taxi and half an hour later was dropped off on a desolate road. He saw Wendy's car off on the side, as if she had crashed into a chain link fence. He ran up, worried since there was no sign of her. He found her laying down in the drivers side seat, all the way down, covered by a pink blanket. He recognized it as one that was on her bed all through highschool.
Worst of all, her mascara was streaking down her cheeks in thin trails. She couldn't go on, so she wrapped herself in her childhood blanket and cried herself to sleep.
Stan knocked softly on the window. He noticed some white streaks on the windows, but didn't want to ask. Wendy's eyes opened up in a start and she sat up, grabbing a tire iron at her side, holding it up before she got her bearings and saw it was Stan.
She sighed and unlocked the car door, nearly collapsing into his open arms. Stan held her close. "Wendy, are you hurt? What happened?"
Wendy shook her head and buried her face into his chest, another flurry of tears starting up. She just shook her head. Stan couldn't help but think of the first night she showed up on his doorstep, he just hugged her tighter. "It's okay. Let it out." He murmured softly into her hair.
"It doesn't matter. I can't go anywhere without someone recognizing me and then I get yelled at for taking jobs and harassed. I'm trying to just get through the day…it's hard."
Stan bit his lip. "I'll go get you a plane ticket right now. Don't worry. I don't want you this upset."
"No." Wendy cried even harder and clung to him. "No, I realize the only time I've felt safe, felt whole is when I'm alone with you. Don't let us be torn apart so quickly. I couldn't bear it."
Stan looked down at her in shock, keeping his arms tight around her waist. He noticed how close she was, pressed up against him and so vulnerable.
She stopped crying and looked up at him, wiping her eyes. Feeling so close to him, she slowly started to lift herself on her tiptoes and tilted her head slightly, arms going slowly up his arms and around his neck before landing a delicate kiss on his lips.
It was like a dam broke open, Stan held her tight, pushing her against the car window. She lifted herself in response, hips pressing against him. The kiss grew deeper, frenzied, she didn't realize just how much she needed and missed this. Those strong arms with a gentle touch.
Stan was surprised to hear almost a whimper from her, needing, pleading. His hand went up her face, cupping her face delicately as he pressed harder into the kiss. The old hat of his she was wearing slid to the side and fell, letting her long dark hair fall to her shoulders. He couldn't help himself and opened up the car door. Wendy fell back easily, her legs curling around his body. He pushed her into the backseat, Wendy flinging aside junk in the back seat to the car floor.
Before he could think, his hands were at his jacket, snapping it apart and pulling his shirt off. She was right with him, unzipping her own coat, blouse off a moment later, tossed to the side carelessly.
She looked at the man before her, her childhood sweetheart but all grown up. "I can't believe we're going to do this for the first time in years…" she says.
Stan was unbuckling his pants but stopped. "We don't have to. I want you to be comfortable." He can't believe these words are coming out of his mouth when it had been on his mind since she first showed up on his doorstep.
"I just mean…teens do it in the backseat of cars. It's so…" she looks around the secluded snowy road, the heat coming off Stan's body, her ready and wanting this but still hesitant. This didn't feel real and yet it did. It felt so right. "So perfectly romantic and fitting." She finished, pulling Stan down on top of her.