A Love Story
21)
Kendall Hart-Slater was in hiding from her husband… still, he'd decided to be all hide-y first, damn it! Since the Incident—this was what Kendall had named it as she'd stormed through her home, swearing, trying to keep from crying at her stupidity—he'd closed himself off. And, very suddenly, Kendall found herself shoved right back out of her understanding of him.
She hadn't realized, completely, how much of him he'd let slip forward since the marriage, how much of his humor and amusement had been willingly open to her and her gaze… how much of himself had been opened to her. But, now, she was beginning to get just how much.
She'd managed to get a hold of him when he'd left for work before dawn the next morning. After a whole night of waiting for the unmistakable sound of his door being opened, she'd heard it and torn out after him; when he'd walked right past, she'd latched an arm around his, tried pulling him back.
He was completely closed off and she suddenly cold; not physically—although she did feel rather chilled out in the biting early air—but in some deeper, more painful way. Somewhere deep down in her bones and blood, tainting the way she felt in everything. It felt like she was cut off from something, like some fragile, sacred link had been snapped.
Now, with her bare feet sticking to the frozen cement, she kept her hand on his arm, staring at his face and trying to find his gaze. It was there but there was nothing soft and sweet in his hazel eyes… his gaze, calm, was just that, cool, emotionless… unfeeling… Kendall's hold, tight, loosened slightly at the painful sight of that kind of nothingness.
She'd seen it before, that unfeeling nothingness… he still regarded many people in town with that emotionless stare of strength and, if they were stupid enough, they found themselves awarded, if they looked deep enough, with pure and simple disgust… he was a man who saw you, saw even those parts of you that you didn't want seen by others.
Zach had taken it away, Kendall realized with an abrupt clarity. She hadn't even become conscious of it but he'd decided she was worthy of something other of nothing at some point between Vegas and the Incident… now, once again, she found herself regarded with a carefully constructed Poker face.
The words she'd selected over the last hours, words to sooth his male pride and wounded heart, fell away and her mouth worked silently, searching for more… but there were none. Nothing there, nothing for her to say… nothing she could say… she stared down at the hand she had on his arm, at the fingers latched onto fabric.
Even through the coat and jacket and shirt, she could feel the muscles of his arm, tight. It was absurd, especially right now, but Kendall found herself thinking back to some of the words exchanged in Las Vegas, the time before their elopement… she wondered how many different job he had done…
Zach said that he'd done all kinds of work before settling in Vegas, said that he'd been to Australia andTahoe and god only knew where else… well, Zach knew all the places he'd been to, didn't he? Would he ever tell her? Very suddenly, with a very large amount of need, she wanted to know about him. She wanted him to tell her things about life before Vegas… maybe even before he'd left?
This thought, a thought that came to her as she felt his gaze on her tangled curls, came with another, more intense, more powerful and far more frightening thought… it might not have struck other women the same way but the reality that Zach Slater, her husband, was a man was like getting hit with a sledgehammer between the eyes.
He was a man… as in… man…
Zach had piqued her interest before but that, no matter how irritating, was natural; she was a woman and he was a man and it was completely natural for her to notice that and appreciate it… maybe even react to it if she'd ever wanted to. This, however, was very much a different understanding.
This was shaper, clearer and extremely strange for her to experience in the middle of January in her wrinkled up dress from last night and with her legs beginning to quiver from the cold… or was it the cold? It was an unexpected, shocking understanding that he was a man and that, in so many ways, he belonged to her. It sounded silly, even to her, but it was true.
Yet, even for the sake of jealousy, her mind couldn't comprehend anything other than the fact that Zach Slater was a man… it was stupid, how much this little nugget of truth was affecting her but she couldn't help it… couldn't fight it… and besides, damn it, didn't that ring on his finger mean a connection to her?
Her eyes finally tore from her hand on his arm, met his eyes… it was just a second, just a fraction of a heartbeat but it was there, a ghost of something that no one else would have picked up. She did… she caught it, caught the crack in the perfect mask he wore… he had a good Poker face… but he was teaching her how to play Poker, teaching her how to play Texas Hold'em and Blackjack, teaching her to shuffle.
She read him… she read him as easily as he read her when she tried to beat him, read him the way he read everybody else… little catches of him and what he gave away before he could stop himself… it was a wonderful, beautiful feeling… at least for the split second before she got all.
Hunger, want, need… desperation for her… and then there was something else. Underlying all that want he had, underlying how much he wanted her, right now, there was something else… and that right there scared the living hell out of her. And, like the bright woman she was, Kendall bolted.
Releasing her hold on him, she stepped back, darted away from him, standing in the still dark courtyard… strange, how much could be said without words, how much could be communicated without sound between two people. Now, standing there, watching each other with wariness, they shared a powerful understanding.
He wanted her, wanted her very, very much and she knew that he wanted her and she also knew that his want had more to it than just lust for a woman… she knew lust and, more than that, she knew what a look of love meant… knew how dangerous and painful it was.
She turned away, averting her face from him and he finally bolted, striding past her and leaving her to wait like the coward she was. Still, even after he was gone, she found that her ability to breathe had been seriously hampered by her little discovery. Damn it, why the hell did he have to love her!
He woke to the smell of eggs, woke to the smell of sausage and cheese and coffee… oh, more than anything else, he woke to coffee. His Cooney side responded to things like pancakes and eggs and ham, but, sadly, his Cooney instincts had been the first thing he'd attacked after his eyes had been opened to Babe. They had betrayed him, left him open to her pretty smiles and sparkling eyes and, oh, how they'd paid for that betrayal.
His Chandler side, in so much control for the past year, responded to one simple thing when they awoke from their status as a sleeping dragon within even the most peaceful Chandler. Even Stuart, sweet, gentle lovable Stuart proved to be a right bastard until he got his coffee… then all was right with the world and back to painting and baking he would go with a bright smile and happy eyes.
Now, JR woke to coffee, as previously stated. From his place in what felt like a toaster oven, he opened his eyes cautiously, and, moving for a few minutes, found himself burrowed in what had to be a pile of heated blankets… honestly, he felt like any minute he would pop his head out of his nest and start dancing to "I'm all right".
His clothes stuck to his form with sweat and he would need to gargle with acid before he talked to anyone but he found that he hadn't felt this good in months… almost since he could remember. Even his happiest moments with Bess had been tinged with the ever-present fear for her safety and a growing desperation to make the walls stop closing in.
Hoping that the gopher music wouldn't start, he peeked out with one eye… too bright, yes, but not a bad sight really. Sunshine, softened through hazy curtains, fell on his cocoon of warmth and, managing to look past the golden light, JR searched the room. He had to get out of here, had to get cool air in his lungs and, yet, he didn't really want to. So what if he was baking? At least it was a nice way to go.
His Cooney side would have rolled over but, finally, the scent of coffee—and his Chandler half's response to it—proved to be too much for him. With a quiet, defeated groan of annoyance, he rolled the other way, studying the door that stood so very far away… hey, wait… who said he had to be cold, anyway?
He hadn't done it in years, not since that last Christmas before she left but he did it now. Worming his way off of the bed, he managed to keep his blankets tight around him as he took tiny steps toward the door… yeah… who said he had to be cold now! It was with a superior snort of triumph that he reached out and, using an edge of the blanket, managed to turn the knob without his hand freezing at the cold metal.
JR Chandler resembled a hornet's nest as he headed down the hallway towards the bathroom. Getting into the bathroom without losing his blankets proved to be feat but he managed it, slamming the door shut with a quiet "hah!" under his breath… nobody kept a Chandler from what he wanted damn it!
Well… except for his mother.
He found himself staring down at the sink and at the pile of clothes there, including the note written with that familiar curly hand-writing… "JR—after you change, go put the blankets back on the bed and make the bed. This does not mean toss the covers down. This means, as you and Cady so mockingly mock me, moving around the bed stuff to make it look decent. Do this and you have coffee waiting."
Dixie martin was too smart for her son's good… and, apparently, for Cady's own good. Still, he had to admit defeat. And, as baffled as he was at how she could possibly have clothes for him, he wanted coffee more than he wanted heat. Nevertheless, actually letting the wrappings drop proved to be a battle of wills… his wills. Finally, though, he managed and, deciding that she didn't need any hot water, promptly began to steam himself in the shower.
As ordered, he made the bed and only then, with the gopher song running through his head, he got to the kitchen, finding himself greeted by the sight of Cady unhappily picking at the remains of her bagel… so, Mom still insisted that her kids had at least one bagel a week. Cady offered him a longing hopeful look but he shook his head with a grin and, unhappily, she took a bite of the thing, scowling.
"You slept like a log."
He looked up from his happily appraisal of Cady, met his mother's gaze and she smirked slightly, nodding upwards. "You? You fell into the bed and were asleep before you actually even hit the bed."
"Yeah…" He paused, glanced back at Cady, who was attempting to get the dog to eat it; he apparently didn't like wheat bagels and continued to stretch up and put it back on her plate. It was such an amusing sight, the two trying to make each other eat it because they sure didn't want to. "Yeah. I haven't been sleeping well."
"Well… as I said before you started to fall asleep on you cookie crumbs, I mean to fix that. Anyway, here," she said and handed him a mug roughly the size of a cauldron, with enough cream and sugar in it to cause sugar shock. Still, coffee was coffee and he took a gulp, ignoring the way it scalded his tongue and throat.
Taking a seat at the table, he watched silently as the dog finally had enough and carried the shredded bagel to his food bowl… and dropped it with a soft yet annoyed whuff of sound, before trotting out of the kitchen. Cady's hopes that, by some miracle, her mother wouldn't notice the little battle that had just ended, was stopped at the door by her mother's chirp of "You'll have extra green beans for breakfast."
It was with loud stomping that she stalked away, heading after her pet with annoyed huffing… once again, JR was left with thoughts of Bess… would that have been her, three years from now, huffing and stomping as she tried to not eat the stuff he'd picked out for her? Would that have been his son?
He heard her move, watched as she reached past him to take Cady's plate and clean it… it was so perfect, the sight of her moving around the kitchen. It wasn't the right kitchen, it wasn't the one he remembered but she was the right one… any food remains were swept off and the plate itself was set into a stack.
He watched, silently, as she settled into the seat beside his, smotthing her blouse as she watched him with the beautful eyes he saw every time he looked in the mirror... she needed her necklace, she needed that star back there where it should be. He'd put it back soon, fasten the chain back around her neck. But, for now... "How... ahem, how much do you remember?"
"Um..." She laughed nervously, ran fingers through curls. "I know everything about you is clear. It's just crystal, you know? I've got, just, years of memories with you. And they're all perfectly clear, just... perfect."
He took another sip of coffee, swallowed it carefully, savoring the taste of how she made coffee. He'd started wanting to drink coffee at the tender age of 12 and, while Tad and Jamie had giggled like the nitwits they were, Dixie's great Cortlandt brain cells had gone into overdrive. He got his coffee, but after all the milk she put into the mug, all he got was about a third of a cupful, always decaff. They had both won. "What do you remember about all the rest of them? What do you remember about Tad and... and my Dad?"
"Little things... little flashes of moments. Same with Adam... although most of my moments with him seem to have more to do with fighting over you than the love and devotion memories I have with Tad." She frowned, cocked her head in an amused look as she picked threads of the table clothe. "Although I also have disturbing memories of trying to protect you from a pack of wild Dobermans."
He set down his coffee, awarding his mother with a sharp laugh. "The Dobermans? Oh, Mom... you remember that? You had no reason to freak like you did! Uncle Palmer always keeps his dogs well-fed and they are the most well-trained and sweetest animals alive!"
"Yeah... well, all i saw when I came in was you sitting in the middle of a pack of wild dogs that were slavering over you and uncle Palmer was yelling that you were a natural and I just panicked!" When he continued to laugh, she crossed her arms over her chest with an irritated sigh. "So glad you're getting enjoyment out of this, honey!"
"I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, resting his head in his palm. "Really, it's just. It was very fun back then and it's even more funny now. The look on your face while uncle Palmer insisted that I was a natural... he even had me brand new leashes and everything... I think he's afraid Petey doesn't have enough Cortlandt in him. I think he's grooming me as an Heir."
"Oh, Lord, you going around with Dobermans, cornering people who irritate you..." She covered her face, flushing. "I can see it so easily!"
"I don't know... I'm proud to be considered as the next generation of Cortlandt royalty! It's falttering."
She just snorted and he smiled, taking a sip of his coffee again. "What do we do now? I mean, where do we go from here?"
"How about home?"
AN: I get a feeling that a few people are afraid that, in my fic, Babe the Saint will be getting off Scott-free. This is simply untrue. I am sure I am not the only one who felt betrayed by how the Baby-swappers got off with a few hours of mopping while JR has to still put up with their holier than thou attitudes. This will NOT happen in this fic! I have a lot of the big reveal written out in a notebook and it was, in fact, the first part of this fic that I came up with. The entire Chandler family will be uniting to get back JR's son and there will quite a few surprising alliances in the big reveal! I really think most of the readers will enjoy. The line between JR's real family and the one who left him to go chase and protect Saint Babe will be pretty clearly drawn and, while it won't be happening any time soon, I don't want anybody to think it isn't coming! Okay, anyway, thanks ever so for the feedback from the last chapter! My computer's been acting kind of schitzo, so there might even more grammatical errors than usual... sorry!