Chapter Three: Where Home Really Is
Brooke smiled as her best friend's four year old son answered the door to her apartment, clad in a pair of overalls, his thumb in his mouth, his brown hair mussed.
"Hey Ben. Where's your Mom?" she asked, refusing to speak 'cutesy' to him and refer to Peyton as his 'mommy', something which had annoyed her thoroughly when she was young.
"She's not here," he said, letting Brooke step into the apartment and carefully removing his thumb from his mouth, wiping it on his Oshkosh overalls.
"Is Jenny looking after you?" asked Brooke, casting a glance around the apartment, painted and decorated in Peyton's original style.
"No, Daddy's here," explained Ben. He stuck out his hand to Brooke and smiling she took it, allowing the small boy to lead her to his father.
"Hello Jake," she said, stepping into his office while Ben ran off down the hall, his tiny feet making small thumping noises on the wood floor.
"Oh, hey Brooke. What's up?" he asked. Brooke stifled a laugh. At twenty-five, she was merely a more sophisticated version of her teenage self-designer clothing, admission to all the right parties because of her influential occupation. And Jake, who had made big money as a musician when he had been younger, was a mostly stay at home Daddy who did occasional work for magazines. Dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and bare feet, he was definitely the same Jake Jagielski.
"So where's Jenny and Peyton?" asked Brooke, hopping up to sit on a short filing cabinet and crossing her long, slim legs. She smiled, glad for her friend, when he didn't even glance at them or the cleavage exposed in her shirt.
"Jenny's actually in Tree Hill, visiting her grandparents for a couple of days, and Peyton is out talking with some guys who want to displayed her work in their gallery," explained Jake, leaning back in his computer chair, stretching his arms high over his head and yawning. Peyton had achieved minor fame through her art after her marriage.
"That's so awesome. Remember those comic strips she used to do, and now she's practically world famous? Oh, Jen's going to be back in time for Lucas, right?" asked Brooke worriedly.
"Of course, she's looking forward to the reunion. She likes you guys," said Jake, his eyes crinkling into a smile. In five days, the Jagielskis, the Scott brothers, and Brooke planned to have a reunion of sorts in Jake and Peyton's apartment. Nathan, Lucas and Brooke moved around so often that they were forced to keep in touch through emails instead of in person.
"Yeah. Me because I tell her about guys, and Lucas because he always buys her things," joked Brooke, slightly jealous under the surface that Jenny naturally liked Nathan, without him having to encourage it. She corrected herself quickly: everyone knew that Nathan needed more happiness in his empty life.
"And because she loves you," consoled Jake.
"I still can't believe she's old enough to go all the way to Tree Hill by herself," said Brooke.
"She's not. She should have an armed escort," said Jake staunchly.
"I'm guessing it was Peyton's idea?" asked Brooke, smiling her traditional twikle eyed dimple smile.
"What was my idea?" asked Peyton Jagielski, coming into the room.
"Oh, sending your daughter to die on a first class flight to Tree Hill. How could you, Blondie?" admonished Brooke, poking fun of Peyton's curly locks, which had grown back to their natural brown after she'd stopped dying them in high school.
"Ah, he's informed you then? She'll be fine," said Peyton.
"Sure, sure. So when's Luke getting here?" asked Jake, taking his wife's hand and pulling her onto his lap.
"In about two days. Why on Earth would he choose the train over a nice short flight?" wondered Brooke.
"The flight from San Fransisco to here is not exactly short Brooke," said Peyton.
"Definitely shorter than a freaking train. He'll probably encounter like…" Brooke cut herself off, pondering for a moment.
"What, old people who take the train?" teased Peyton.
"Or arsonists, you never know!" shot back Brooke.
"You sound quite worried about him," said Jake, trying to keep emotion out of his tone. Brooke rolled her eyes.
"Please, Mr. Peyton. Not in a million years. Which, by the way, is how long ago that was," said Brooke, smiling.
"Fine. How is your love life then?" asked Peyton. The two of them were surprised when Brooke, ever immodest, spared an embarrassed glance at Jake before launching into a tirade.
"Like, nonexistent. Guys are totally scared of girls more successful than them. Except for you of course, Jake. Tell them your salary, or your job, or you who work for and they're out of their! Guys want like stewardesses. So unfair. And anyway, there's not one I'd even consider sleeping with at my office," moaned Brooke. Peyton hid a smile.
"Is there anyone you'd consider doing more with?" asked Peyton, amazed yet unsurprised that at twenty-five, Brooke still showed no inclination to 'settle down'.
"Please. I'll leave domestic bliss up to you guys," said Brooke, glancing over at them, cuddling in his computer chair.
"Thanks. Now, do you want to stay for dinner?" asked Peyton.
"God, though you'd never ask. Yes, I'd like that. What are you making?" asked Brooke.
"Chinese takout. Take it or leave it," said Peyton. Brooke grinned, glad that despite her years of marriage, her brown hair, her steady, stable husband, she was still Peyton underneath.
"I'll take it. Get those sweet n sour noodles. I love those," said Brooke, leading her best friend out of her office and toward the kitchen phone.
"So, how are you feeling?" asked Brooke, with forced casualty, browsing through a takeout menu.
"Fine," said Peyton.
"Not like… nauseous or anything?" she asked, keeping up her nonchalant tone.
"Perfect," said Peyton, the corners of her mouth twitching as she dialed the phone.
"No weird cravings… moodswings…" continued Brooke suggestively. Peyton rolled her eyes, hiding her amazement at how well her friend knew her, how incredibly perceptive she was.
"I'm good. But you're very sweet. Do you mind setting the table?" asked Peyton, sweetness dripping from her voice.
"Not at all," said Brooke airily, easily locating the placemats in a drawer before grabbing a handful of cutlery. She was familiar with the Jagielski house, having spent so much time there.
Half an hour later, the four of them sat around the square table, eating their food out of the cardboard boxes, attempting to make conversation that could be followed by four year olds and twenty-five year olds alike.
"So, any hot parties you have to do anytime soon?" asked Peyton, biting an eggroll.
"Yeah. That guy from 'House of Wax' is having a birthday, but it's annoyingly low key. If you were a Hollywood star, wouldn't you have a big birthday?" asked Brooke.
"I would never be a Hollywood star," said Peyton.
"Yeah well I didn't mean you. Bennie here could be a Hollywood star," said Brooke, fondly ruffling her godson's hair.
"Not for your life. Jenny, however…" said Peyton, merely to provoke her husband.
"That's not very nice," said Jake. Peyton laughed, and leaned across a corner of the wooden table to kiss him lightly.
Brooke's smile fell, but only for a moment. She was happy for Peyton. Completely. She'd hoped almost as hard as Peyton had that everything that had happened would happen.
But she couldn't help wishing that it would happen for her, as well.
Author's note: Here's a spoiler: next chapter revolves around a scene that could be in 'Sex and the City', but not on 'Friends' or even 'One Tree Hill'. Get it?