"Thanks for dropping them off," she told him, without once looking him in the eyes.
"No problem" he responded, again no eye contact.
"What time should I drop them off next week?"
"Any time is fine really."
He walked off her porch and into his SUV. She watched as he drove off down the calm Everwood residential street.
"C'mon kids lets go inside." She told the young boy and girl that were staring up at her from their low height. As they ran inside, she closed the front door and walked inside her darkened house, turning on the lights as she went.
"Mommy, can we watch TV?" Her son asked
"Ok, but don't turn it on too loud, OK? Mommy's got a headache."
The boy gleefully ran to the living room and sat on the couch and promptly began to argue with his sister. After helping them decide on Arthur she went up to her bedroom and closed the door.
She lay down on the queen sized bed and stared over at the clock. 5:45. Only fifteen more minutes until the weekly, one-hour Sunday talk with her father. How she dreaded it today. She just wasn't feeling up to it,
She never really did. Ever since he got up and left. Just packed up his bags and left, with only a note to console her broken heart.
I'm sorry but I just had to go. I couldn't stand the fighting anymore, and I didn't even know what it was about. I never thought things would end up this way. Not with you and me. You and me were always meant to be. Ever since I first saw you, I always knew we'd end up perfectly. And we did. Until recently. And I don't know how it happened but I'm sorry if I hurt you or if I will in the future. Just know it wasn't intended. Give the kids my love.
That was all he had left her. And she saw him after he had filed for divorce, and she still saw him every week when he dropped the kids off at 5:40 p.m. on the dot each and every Sunday after his weekend with them.
But he didn't see her, he didn't look into her eyes, or longingly stare at her hair the way he used to. She sometimes wished he would. She always wished he would.
She had Jonathan six years ago. It seemed as though nothing could be more perfect. Just him, her, and baby Jonathan. But it could get better, or so it seemed, when, two years later, little Rachel came into the world.
Everyday she would be making dinner or even changing a diaper, and he would just walk into the room and swoop down and give her a big kiss, right on the lips. Most nights he did this dinner was ruined and they had to order take-out. They had take-out a lot.
Eventually they started having take-out less and less. His job was becoming more and more demanding, having him stay in the office until 9 or even ten sometimes.
He would come home and she would yell at him for not being part of the family. For devoting his life to his job that he didn't even like.
"You're turning into your father." She would scream at him, while blinded by tears.
"Don't say that." He would scream in reply.
"You are. You spend all day at the office. You're never home in time for dinner. You never come to Rachel's dance recitals and have you ever been to one of Johnny's T-ball games. You said you'd never turn into him, but look at you now. The only difference is, your father actually enjoyed his job. He didn't spend hours upon hours working at a job he never wanted, not caring at all about what he did. At least he cared about something. You—you don't care about work or family. What do you care about?"
" I do care about this family. And most of all, I care about you." He would scream back at her.
And she would cry and fall into his arms. Usually their fights were short, and ended with nights of passion in their bed. But she would always wake up in the morning, and instead of him giving her a kiss like he used to, there would be a note, saying how he had to get into work early and how sorry he was.
She tried ignoring it for as long as possible. And as he starting staying at work later and later and leaving earlier and earlier, their fights would keep the kids up for nights on end. This time, they were unresolved, and the next morning, there would be no note. But he would not be there.
Then one day, he came home early from work and the kids ran towards him and he hugged them and then walked upstairs, motioning with his eyes for her to follow him. She obeyed and followed him up the stairs and into their bedroom.
"I told the boss I had to cut back my hours at work so I could be with my family."
"Honey, that great!" She said, and gave him a big hug. She knew he was reforming; he had learned from his mistakes and was going to start being the father and the husband that he was meant to be from the day they got married.
But then she got offered a job, just a small job on the side teaching at a dance company. It was what she had always wanted. And when she started working longer hours, their fights were just as they had been when he had overworked.
"You're doing just what I did." He would scream at her.
"I gave up my life for this family while you worked all day. And now that I'm doing something that I actually want to do you go accusing me of something I'm not."
The fights were endless and they were always about the same things. Eventually, the subjects of the fights changed. It would be about not cleaning up the bathroom or not making the bed. Not getting the kids to school on time. They never talked anymore, they only yelled.
And then he left, without any warning. He packed up his bags while she slept. A divorce proceeded. She quit her job so she could be with the kids so she could be with them when she had them on the weekdays. She never talked to him except about the kids. She never talked to any man, except her father every single Sunday.
"How is my little girl?" her father sang into the phone.
"I'm tired and worn out and the kids just got home. Do you think it would be possible to chat tomorrow? Actually, on second thought, do you think you could come over here and watch the kids for me? I really need to get out of the house."
"Yeah sure I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Thanks so much dad."
"No problem sweetheart."
When her father arrived, she told him hello and thank you and ran out the door to her car. She jumped in and began to drive. She didn't really know where she was going. She was just following the maze that was the streets of Everwood. She drove past Main Street and Mama Joy's, past the Hart's house, past her house. She continued driving until she found herself pulling into an all too familiar driveway.
She found herself opening the car door, getting out and ringing the doorbell before she could stop herself.
"Dr. Brown hi! I know I shouldn't be here but I just went for a drive and I ended up here."
"Don't worry about it," he replied with a cheery look on his face. "Come in."
She sat down on the leather couch, waiting for something; she didn't know what. She watched as Ephram walked down the stairs and came to the piano, just inches away from her. However, he did not notice her as his fingers melted into the keys.
"It's sounds wonderful." She said, and he immediately stopped playing. "I haven't heard you play like that since you started working."
"I just started up again." He said, as he turned around and looked at her, straight in her eyes, for the first time in over a year.
She immediately looked away. She couldn't look into those eyes again without crying.
"Amy, look at me." He said, and she immediately followed the orders. How could she not? This was Ephram, the love of her life, her high school sweetheart, the father of her children. Her EX-husband.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here." She exclaimed, the intensity in his eyes making her cry.
"No, I'm the one who shouldn't be here." He said, and she became quiet, waiting for more. "I mean, look at me. I'm living here, in my father's house. I don't have a job, I never leave the house, except to sometimes buy groceries. I have no friends, definitely no girlfriend. The only time I'm ever actually happy is when I sit at this piano, and play my favorite song."
"What's that?"
"Amy's Song."
She went over to sit next to him on the piano bench. "Will you play it for me?" she asked, just like she had when they were still in high school.
He began to play. And he played the beautiful music like he had never played before. It was the best he had ever played. The music soared off the wall and the two were so caught up that they didn't notice his father leave.
As soon as the song was over she looked at him and he was just satring at the piano.
"Amy, there's something I have to tell you."
"What?"
He leaned down and kissed her. He kissed her with everything that had been building up inside of him for the past year. All the kisses he hadn't given her when he was at work or when she was. And she kissed him back. And somehow, they both knew, that everything was going to be alright.
This is my first attempt at a OneShot. I hope you liked it. I will be getting back to The Man of Her Dreams shortly. Please review. Flame are accepted and conductive criticism is preferred, although all reviews are great. Thank so much.
Xoxo,
Maya