A/N: After this chapter, we'll pretty much be deviating from the Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice plot lines completely (with the exception of characters). Just one more heavy chapter - don't come for me! It's necessary for where this story goes.
Chapter 2
It came at the right time; Addison's arrival in Connecticut that was. It had taken all day to get on the plane in Seattle and a redeye back to Connecticut to make it there by the next morning. The cab driver twisted his head around to look at her in the backseat. "This is the correct address, right Ma'am?"
She peered up at the old brick mansion that held all her childhood secrets. A feeling of nervous energy she thought was lost on her crawled along her spine. "Yes, this is the house. Thank you."
A cloud of exhaust welcomed her when she stepped out of the cab. Her heels left a sunken track as she punctured her way through the snow to the front door, tugging her Louis Vuitton suitcase behind her.
"Addison," Bizzy acknowledged when she opened the front door.
"Hello, Bizzy." Addison dug her manicured nails into the palm of her hand to alleviate the nerves nestling themselves inside her stomach. "It's cold," she noted, hoping for an invitation inside, but she wasn't sure whether she was referring to the winter weather or her mother's greeting.
Bizzy opened the door wider, and Addison was embraced with the warmth of the burning hearth from the living room. "So, you finally nailed the coffin shut on your marriage, I take it." The heavy wooden door closed behind her with a quiet thud, sealing off the whistling wind outside.
Addison slipped out of her coat and slid her leather gloves off, one finger at a time. "It's good to see you too, Bizzy."
"Well, what do you want me to say, Darling? You married a man not suited for the Montgomery lifestyle. It caught up to you." She turned her back to Addison and moved gracefully from the foyer.
"I know. The Montgomery's look the other way," she muttered under her breath as she followed her mother to the living room. Visions of watching her father shut his office door or wave goodbye to her from the sailboat with a younger woman hanging on his arm flooded her memory. Somehow, despite all her efforts, she turned out to be just like the Captain. And she hated herself for it.
"Pinot?" Bizzy asked, wine bottle already in hand.
"Cab, actually." Addison studied the newest artwork displayed along the walls. Paintings of peonies and ballerinas in dark hues and heavy strokes stared back at her.
There was a quiet pop as the cork released pressure and Bizzy eased it out of the bottle. "I'm actually glad you came." She poured a generous amount in what could only be described to as a fishbowl of a wine glass. "Susan is not well."
She walked the glass over to Addison and paused upon seeing her cheek up close.
"Derek's work?" She asked disconcertedly as she handed the glass over to her daughter.
Addison half mindedly ran her fingers over the bruise on her cheekbone. "No," she replied quietly.
Bizzy paused for a beat and then resumed her disclosure. "Well, Susan has cancer. The aggressive kind." She took a long sip of her sauvignon blanc, licking her lips after she pulled the glass away. "A little more concealer, Darling. It's not becoming," she said in one beat.
Addison set her wine glass down, choosing to ignore her mother's ladder remark. "Susan has cancer?"
Bizzy said nothing as she moved to one of the claw-footed armchairs and took her place there like a hawk perching to hunt its next victim. "They're operating on her in a few hours. I'm going to the hospital soon."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Addison sat in the adjacent armchair, crossing her ankles delicately like her mother had taught her.
"Don't be silly. I'll be fine." Bizzy responded, but she adjusted the collar of her shirt, a nervous habit of hers that Addison had picked up on long ago.
She knew not to question her mother, though. "Very well. I'm going to unpack my things. Call me after the surgery." She retrieved her wineglass and made haste to find safety in a locked room in that maze of a house.
Addison stood outside of her old bedroom. The door was closed, keeping the stale air trapped inside. She slowly turned the handle and the door creaked open to reveal a much different room than the one she had left behind so many years ago.
There was a cherry wood dresser where her white vanity had been and a California king sleigh bed where her embroidered one had once been. She remembered using thumb tacks to stick love letters from the boys in her class to the backside of her headboard. Those had been removed before college, but she longed to read them again, to remember a simpler time.
The glass doors leading out to her balcony were the same, but terracotta curtains now hid the view of the garden, which she was grateful for. The inky blackness of the garden at night always had a foreboding presence that unnerved her when she was younger. She pulled the curtains aside to reveal a snow blanketed balcony and the same garden view she always had growing up, but now there were rose bushes where a weeping willow once stood and a koi pond where a rod iron bench had sat.
She closed the curtain again and pulled back the covers to the unfamiliar sleigh bed. It was comfortable enough and she was too worn out for her intensive skincare routine. Sleep beckoned to her, and she wasn't even able to turn out the lights before her body demanded rest.
(*)Veins protruded from the flexing arms that pinned her arms down so hard, she was sure they had coagulated with the fibers of the bedsheets.
"Please," she tried to cry, but her voice only came out as a whisper. She struggled to worm her way out of his vice grip, and she repeatedly threw her head back violently against the mattress with her efforts. "Please-"
Addison was startled awake by a buzzing on the nightstand table. She sat upright as her surroundings came into focus. She reached for her phone that had lit up the room and wiped her sweaty brow with her free hand.
Her childhood bedroom was washed in an orange sorbet from the morning sun, and she squinted through the sunlight and the harsh LED light on her phone to make out the missed call and voicemail notification from Derek.
She sat up straighter in bed as she brought the phone close to her ear and pressed play on the voicemail.
"Addison, where the hell are you? Richard told me you were sick, but I'm guessing that's not the case." There was a pause, but she wasn't sure if it was coming from a place of anger or concern. "Just, call me back when you get a chance. I know we left off on a bad note at Joe's. I'm not sure what's going on. I know I said I loved Meredith, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you or didn't mean it when I said I decided to stay with you to work on our marriage. I-" there was rustling in the background and the sound of someone asking him a question. "I have to go. Call me." The line cut and she was left alone in silence again.
She pulled up her messages and typed 'In CNCT. Susan is sick' to Derek and then deleted it. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be berated with questions and confusion when she hadn't had time to process what had happened herself. Instead, she called Bizzy.
The phone rang and rang and then finally went to voicemail. She hung up before it went through and put her phone face down on the nightstand table. There would be time for all of that. Right now, she needed a drink, and she didn't care if the sun had barely made an appearance.
"Good morning," Addison greeted the housekeeper as she unscrewed the cap to a Bailey's bottle.
The housekeeper acknowledged her with a small smile and nod before disappearing into one of the back rooms. Staff for her parents always knew how to keep to themselves. Certainly, the younger attractive women.
Addison poured a shot into her coffee mug and then another shot for good measure. Her day-old makeup felt tacky on her face and her hair was mussed from her restless sleep, but the idea of taking a shower seemed impossible. She knew she would have to before Bizzy got back unless she wanted an earful of insults.
She studied her elongated fingers wrapped around the coffee mug, as well as the chipped red nail polish on her fingernails. She wanted to tear off the subtle reminders of Christmas night. Her normally steady, sure surgeon hands shook as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips and tasted the sweet bite of Bailey's. She looked around the kitchen at baked goods and fruits, but food was as unappetizing today as it was the day before.
With a deep sigh, she resigned to her childhood bedroom again and stood in the doorway of her attached bathroom.
An unfamiliar fear prickled at the back of her neck. "It's just a shower," she spoke aloud, frustrated with herself. But the walk-in shower loomed over her, taunting her with the threat of having to see her bruised and marred body again. After drinking the remainder of her coffee in one swig, she turned the shower head on and adjusted the temperature before she clicked the lights off and stripped down.
In the darkness, she finally found relief from the warm water as it cascaded around her body. There was no need to scrub her skin raw now, for she basked in the blackness that made her feel like a ghost: invisible to the world, invisible to herself.
As she soaped her hair and body, she felt tears well up in her eyes and she allowed them to flow freely and disappear into the water.
With each body part that she washed, an image of that haunting man touching her there flashed before her eyes. She held her breath, willing herself to push past the thoughts. She would not allow that nameless man to take away her sanity.
She squeezed tears out of her eyes, forcing them out as though it would end her crying sooner. She took a breath and found it difficult to get air in. Another unsteady intake and she felt herself going lightheaded.
Enough, she decided. She turned off the shower head and stood in place for a beat, gathering herself and trying to even her breathing. She had done these exercises enough times with her patients to recall the steps.
Deep breath in. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Release. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Deep breath in-
Buzzing from the bedroom broke her trance and she stood erect, listening to be sure that it was her phone, and she wasn't hearing things now. The buzzing continued and she stepped out of the shower, careful not to slip. She felt around for a towel and wrapped herself securely in it before going to retrieve the phone.
'(2) missed calls from "Bizzy",' she read. She plopped down on the bed and rested her phone on the nightstand next to her before pressing 'Call Back' and 'Speaker.'
There was a soft click from the other end, indicating Bizzy had answered the call, but she said nothing.
"Bizzy?" Addison asked uncertainly into the phone.
She could hear shaky breathing and then another pause before, "She's gone."
Addison opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
"Susan is gone," Bizzy clarified unnecessarily.
"I'm so sorry, Bizzy. I know how important she was to you."
"You know nothing about how important she was to me," she spoke cruelly. "You should have been here. You should have done something more. You're a doctor, for God's sake."
Addison cleared her throat. She was aware her mother grieved in her own way, did most things in her own Bizzy way and she could not fault her for facing this in similar fashion. "I would have been there with you. There's nothing more I could have done that those doctors didn't do, though. You know they did everything they could." She picked up the phone and took it off speaker before putting it to her ear. "I didn't know how bad it was, Bizzy. I'm so sorry."
"They didn't do enough. They didn't save her." She bit angrily into the phone.
Addison could tell her mother was moments from breaking dishes or necks, whichever became available first.
"I'm sorry," Addison offered quietly, like a child disappointing her mother all over again.
There was a click, and the line went dead.
Bizzy didn't come back to the estate until late that night.
Addison had left her several voicemails to no avail and resulted to calling both the Captain and Archer, informing them of what she knew. She had made herself a cocoon on the living room couch, waiting to hear from her mother or for her to return home.
When the front door finally opened, a stone cold Bizzy walked in as though nothing was wrong.
"Bizzy," Addison climbed to her feet tiredly. "I've been waiting for you and calling you all day."
"You needn't worry." She shrugged her coat off and hung it on the coat rack by the door before turning back to Addison.
"You know, she was the only person I've ever loved" she said gravely, her eyes dark and calculating like a shark's.
Maybe Bizzy needed her for the first time in her life. Maybe Addison needed her mother now more than ever. Either way, Addison didn't expect anything in return when she offered her heart to her mother on a platter.
Addison stepped closer to Bizzy and gingerly took her hand in her own. "You know I'm here with you. I know- I just, I know I've never said it before and you've never said it to me, but I'm going to say it now." Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. "I love you," she let out hoarsely.
Bizzy's eyes tracked hers and she slowly pulled her hand back and clasped hers together. Though distant, Addison caught a glimpse of the tears pooling in Bizzy's own eyes.
"Go, get some sleep, Addison. I'll be alright," she encouraged. As she walked past Addison, she stopped in her tracks momentarily to place a hand gently on her daughter's shoulder. And then she was gone again.
It was enough for Addison to know that her mother appreciated the gesture she had made, the sacrifice of being vulnerable.
She turned around to say something again, but Bizzy had already disappeared upstairs. How long had Addison stood there, reveling in the warmth from her mother's touch that had only lasted mere seconds?
The singsong of birds in the morning woke Addison. She stretched her body as she sat upright and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, thankful for the dreamless rest she had had.
She pulled the covers back and climbed out before flipping her phone over to see another series of missed calls and texts from Derek. There would be time for that. She flipped the phone back over and got dressed quickly.
Down the hall, her mother's door was closed and uninviting, but she had a restless urge to check on her after their interaction the night before. Her mother was grieving a loss that Addison didn't quite understand, but she wanted to be there for her in any way that she could manage in her own fragile state.
She swallowed hard and built up the courage to knock on the door, but there was no answer.
"Bizzy?" She called and knocked again.
No answer.
"Bizzy?" She asked again as she creaked the door open and stuck her head inside.
Her mother was still asleep, but her body was angled in such a way that she appeared-
Addison pushed the door open fully and tripped as she tried to move faster than her feet would take her. She fell against the bedside, staring in horror at her mother's greyed face and lifeless eyes.
Empty pill bottles laid askew across the nightstand and a note was tucked neatly against a picture frame of Bizzy and Susan sharing a margarita under the Santorini sun.
Addison tore her eyes away from her mother to pick up the note with trembling hands.
'Dear Addison,
The necklace is for you. Apologize to my housekeeping for the inconvenience. And when people ask, tell them I died in my sleep. The truth is… too embarrassing.
-Bizzy'
Addison choked out a soft sob and laid her head against her mother's ribcage, willing her heart to beat again.
"What have you done, Bizzy?" She whispered through tears.
Ch.3 coming soon. Thank you for R&R.