A/N, do enjoy! This is my favorite thing yet...
When a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her. Sacha Guitry
He stared down at the phone, comprehending what had just happened, what he had just heard. She was getting remarried. She had just called, she thought he might want to know before he got the invitation, so it wouldn't catch him completely off guard. He had mumbled his congratulations, at least seeming as if he was happy for her.
She sounded absolutely giddy though, he could hear her grin through the phone as she talked about her new fiancé. She had thought a heads-up was appropriate. And she had launched into talking about how great things were going in her life, both with her new boyfriend and work, and how she was generally getting along better than she had in ages.
Completely oblivious to the effect it had on him. She had also asked him to dinner, to talk, and because Abby was coming back for the summer and for the wedding, to see what things were going to be like. Even though Abby had long since crossed into the majority, who got her when was an issue between them.
And he had agreed to go meet Maggie, meet the new fiancé. It was masochistic of him, but he was going. The two of them never had any real bad blood between them. He had been hurt by her leaving, but not hurt to the point of hate. They still could call each other friends-if nothing else they were completely civil to each other, and she had invited him to her wedding, just as he was sure he would invite her if he ever got remarried.
He laughed at the thought. If he ever got remarried. The if being the key word in that one. He looked at the clock. Quarter after five, he was meeting them at six. He could get down to the restaurant's in plenty of time if he walked, and he supposed the fresh air would do him good in clearing his mind. It was a nice September day, one of the ones where the weather is just cooling to the point of bearable.
He walked to the elevator and pushed the down button, waiting. He fidgeted, all but paced once he was ensconced in the small space. He never cared much for small spaces, he wasn't claustrophobic, but that didn't mean that he had to like them. It was even worse since every time he was in this one the only thing he could think of was riding it down wondering if he'd come back to a job. He had, but his mind still attached the elevator to the point of wondering what if.
He made the right turn out of the building and walked the familiar blocks down to the restaurant, thinking. He was happy for her, he supposed. She had moved on with her life, found someone else to love, he hadn't, it wasn't any fault of hers. He had gotten over her, they had tried the relationship thing again, and that had made him realize that he didn't want her again.
He ordered a glass of scotch from the bar while he waited for her to come. She would be here soon enough, but right now what he needed was a nice stiff drink. And the scotch was working quite well for that. He was halfway through it when he saw her walk in and she came right over to him, another man in tow.
He eyed the man on her arm as she introduced them. "Garret, this is Paul Whitford. Paul, this is Garret Macy." They shook hands, Paul with a grin on his face, not the type of a grin that meant he was up to something, but a truly jovial grin.
"So, Garret, nice to meet you." He nodded in response.
"Nice to meet you." He said as they claimed their table.
"So, what do you do for a living?" Paul asked and he shrugged.
"I'm a medical examiner." He smiled slightly as Paul tried to place why he knew that term.
"He cuts up dead people." Maggie described bluntly and he had no choice but to grin as Paul looked both interested and green at the same time.
"What do you do?" He asked the other man.
"I'm an accountant." Thoughts of Monty Python sprang to mind, but he wisely kept his tongue in check. They all ordered and lapsed into small talk.
Paul was a generally good natured guy. He found it hard to dislike the other man, he was very average looking, an all around good guy. Very much like Woody in that respect, he looked the stereotypical suburban king. And impossible to dislike. He tried to find a thing to hate about him, but found it harder and harder the more he talked to him.
He had to concede that if Maggie had someone else, at least she had found someone else that was good. "So Paul's sister and niece are going to be staying in our house, is it alright if Abby stays with you?" He nodded.
"Yeah." He agreed.
"She's coming in next week." he nodded again, and processed it. Maybe this was his chance to rebuild the broken relationship with his daughter. And Maggie did look really happy. Maybe this was the chance for him to start rebuilding his life and changing it, fixing it. He grinned and lifted his glass in a silent toast to whoever, whatever, was possibly turning his life into something better.