House of the Bakers

When I came home just before midnight, everything was quiet in the house. I was surprised because the children usually stayed awake longer. Or they had their headphones on and listened to music or played computer games. I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and inspected the contents. A bit of pasta salad was left over from supper, which I took and ate it straight from the bowl. Halfway saturated, I went up the stairs and listened. It was really quiet, so I decided to go to bed right away. As I carefully opened the door to the bedroom, I saw Brooke lying on her side, holding my pillow tightly in her arms. Smiling, I looked down at her. Even today, 18 years after our wedding, I was crazy about her. Maybe our sex life wasn't quite as exciting as it was when we were in our early 20s, but it was even more intense when we found the time for it. Right now, Brooke was working on a new 'Baker Man' collection, and I was busy filming my new movie. My dad had told me recently that he was about to retire from the film business, which meant even more work and responsibility for me. Brooke and I barely saw each other, and I had decided that we needed to change that. In one week was our 18th wedding anniversary, and I had a surprise for her that I hoped she would like. I was interrupted in my thoughts when Brooke opened her eyes.

"Julian?" She mumbled sleepily.

"Yes, it's me," I said with a grin. "Did you expect another man in your bed?" As she laughed softly and then pushed the pillow aside and hugged me instead, I quickly laid my lips on hers before she could turn back.

"Hm..." she murmured. "You taste like... pasta salad."

"You really know how to destroy a romantic mood," I said playfully indignant.

"Oh, I didn't know you wanted to seduce me," she smirked. "I think back then I would have recognized the hint. I'm a bit out of practice, can't remember the last time you seduced me."

"Then we should refresh your memory as soon as possible," I said with a grin and leaned over her. "And that's best done in the city of love."

"The city of love?" She echoed, confused. "You mean Paris?"

"Oui, madame."

"What are you talking about, Julian?" She asked with a frown.

"Our wedding anniversary is in one week," I said. "And I thought it would be nice to take a trip for a few days, just you and me. We haven't done that for a long time. I think, the last time had been after Izzy's birth."

"Well, the twins had only been 2 years old then and Justin was 6 and then the baby..."

"That's exactly what I mean," I interrupted. "We have never had time for ourselves because for the last 15 years we have been busy raising our children and going to work. I think we really deserve it."

"But why Paris?" She asked.

"Because I know how much you love the French language," I said with a smile.

"You remember that?" She asked in astonishment. "That's been an eternity since I told you about it."

"I haven't forgotten anything of what you ever have told me," I said, looking her deep into her eyes. "I know there is this list you made, what you wanted to do until your 30th birthday. And even if we're 10 years late now, I think we should cut some of that off."

"You're crazy, Julian Baker, you know that?" She grinned.

"Does that mean you agree?" I asked, looking at her expectantly. As she sat up and sighed softly, I knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

"If I agree and we fly to Paris, what do you think, how long will we stay there?"

"5 or 7 days maybe?" I shrugged.

"You want to leave the children alone for such a long time?"

I rolled my eyes. Of course, she had doubts because of the children. "Justin is 21, Jude and Davis 17 and Isabella is 15," I listed. "They are old enough to stay alone for a few days," I said firmly.

"I don't know, Julian. I don't feel good about it. Besides, Justin wants to move to L.A. in a few days. You probably don't believe that I leave the twins and Isabella alone here!"

Gradually her overprotection got on my nerves. "They're not babies anymore, Brooke," I said sharper than intended. "How are they going to become independent if you constantly coddle them?!"

"If you say now that I'm like your mother, then you can take your things and sleep on the couch!" She warned.

I rolled onto my back and groaned softly. "Okay," I relented. "I'll call my mother and ask her if she'll take care of the kids in the meantime, okay?"

"Your mother?" She raised her eyebrows in disapproval. "Your mother needs a babysitter herself!"

Promptly, I sat up and looked at her angrily. "Okay, enough of that! My mother is 66 and completely healthy! You're just looking for an excuse, why you don't want to go to Paris with me," I accused her.

"That's not true!" She countered in a loud voice.

"Yeah, it is!" I shouted back. "And you know what, I really take my stuff now and sleep on the couch, so you can have your way again, because it's all about you anyway. Don't take my feelings in consideration!"

"Julian..."

I heard her calling after me, but I had already taken my things and had slammed the door. As I stormed down the stairs, Isabella crossed my path. I could see from her expression that she was completely confused.

"You and Mom," she began hesitantly. "Did you have a fight?"

I stifled a sigh. "Go to bed now, Izzy," I said, ignoring her comment.

"I wanted to, but it was so loud." She bit nervously on her lower lip. "Are you sleeping on the couch now?"

I looked at my pillow and blanket and nodded hesitantly. "Yes, at least for tonight. And you're going to your room again, young lady," I said in an authoritarian tone. "Tomorrow is school. You have to be rested." But Izzy had always been persistent, even today there should be no exception.

"Are you getting divorced now?"

Shocked, I looked at her as I felt my stomach clench painfully. I quickly went to the couch, put my clothes down and gestured for her to sit down. "How do you come up with such an absurd idea?" I asked cautiously.

"Debby's parents get divorced," she confessed after a brief hesitation. "She told me a few days ago. And now she and her brother are split up. She stays with her mother, he comes to the father. And then they have to sell the house as well. And maybe Debby has to move because her mom can't stay in Tree Hill."

When I saw her eyes fill with tears, it almost broke my heart to see my little girl so unhappy. Although she kept emphasizing that she was too old to be cuddled by her parents, I spontaneously took her in my arms and held her. "Don't worry," I said as I gently stroked her long, dark curls. "Your mom and I won't get a divorce. I promise you that."

She raised her head and looked at me with her tear-streaked face. "You promise?"

I nodded and hugged her again. "I promise." When the door to the living room opened, I looked up while I still held Izzy in my arms.

"What's going on?" Brooke asked anxiously.

Izzy broke away from the embrace and got up from the couch. "It's okay. I'm leaving now."

I looked after her thoughtfully before turning to Brooke. "Izzy heard how we were fighting," I told her. "She's scared we'll divorce." I saw Brooke's eyes widen in alarm.

"Oh my God," she stammered. "Why does she think that?"

"The parents of her friend Debby get a divorce," I said softly. "And if you can remember, then she also experienced the same thing two years ago with another friend. No wonder she thinks we'll get a divorce someday, too." When Brooke walked over to the couch and picked up my pillow, I looked at her questioningly.

"I want you to come back to the bedroom," she said softly. "I don't want to sleep without you."

Hesitantly, I took my bed clothes and carried it back upstairs. While we were sorting our bed, Brooke gazed at me with a long look.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "You're right. We should think about ourselves just once. And if you still want to, I'd like to go to Paris with you."

I approached her smiling and took her in my arms. "I love you, you know that?" I said softly as I looked deep into her eyes.

"I love you, too," she confessed, then put her arms around my neck and pulled me closer until our lips touched.