Author's Note: Well, I shamefully haven't been attributing the songs to the artists who performed them originally. So just skip this, although you may be interested where they came from. I don't know. I just gotta do it. Lol.
Never Can Say Goodbye is the property of the Jackson Five.
What Becomes of the Broken-hearted? is the property of Jimmy Ruffin.
Baby Love is the property of the Supremes.
Come See About Me is the property of the Supremes.
Don't Make Me Over is the property of Dionne Warwick.
Tears of a Clown is the property of Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.
Tracks of My Tears is the property of the Miracles.
ABC is the property of the Jackson Five.
Stop! In The Name of Love is the property of Diana Ross and the Supremes.
I'll Be Around is property of the Spinners.
I Love Music is property of the O' Jays.
Quiet Storm is the property of Smokey Robinson.
You Keep Me Hangin' On is the property of Diana Ross and the Supremes.
Ain't Too Proud To Beg is the property of the Temptations.
You Can't Hurry Love is the property of Diana Ross and the Supremes.
Maybe Your Baby is the property of Stevie Wonder.
You're All I Need To Get By is the property of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell.
What's Going On is the property of Marvin Gaye.
I Heard It Through the Grapevine is the property of Marvin Gaye.
XX. Seven Rooms of Gloom
Seven Rooms of Gloom is property of the Four Tops.
I see a house, a house of stone
(Seven rooms)
A lonely house 'cause now you've gone
(Filled with gloom)
Seven rooms, that's all it is, seven rooms of gloom
(Just seven rooms of gloom)
I live with emptiness
(Filled with emptiness)
Without your tenderness
You took the dream I had for us
Turned my dreams into dust
I watch the phone never rings
I watch the door that never rings
Bring you back into my life
Turn this darkness into light
I'm all alone in this house
Turn this house into a home
I need your touch to comfort me
The tender, tender arms that once held me
Without your love, your love inside
This house is just a place to run and hide
Seven rooms, that's all it is - seven rooms of gloom
Rooms of emptiness
Without your tenderness
Don't make me live from day to day
Watching the clock that ticks away
Another day, another way
Another reason for me to stay
I need you here, here with me
I need your loving desperately
I'm all alone, all alone
In this house that's not a home
I miss your love I once had known
I miss your kiss that was my very, very own
Empty silence surrounding me
Lonely walls they stare at me
Seven rooms, that's all it is - rooms of gloom
I live with emptiness
Without your tenderness
All the windows are painted black
And wait right here until you come back
I'll keep waiting, waiting
Until your face again I see
The aroma of fresh-baked bread fills the house, a smell so fragrant it makes Jimmy stop his wheelchair in his tracks as he heads towards the kitchen. Saturday, the day Ashley would show up, get her stuff, leave, permanently. He'd been dreading this day ever since Spinner and Paige's get together. He watched Spinner trot in some boxes, a few cartons, some hangers for her. Jimmy stared at the boxes in the last couple days, sure they were just some figment of his imagination, wanting them to be, but no, they were there. It was even weirder seeing Ashley's car parked on the street when he came in from his parents' or coaching at Degrassi. Wheeling into the kitchen, he sees that Tia is already hard at work, cooking. She's tied her long, mahogany hair back into a long ponytail, trailing down to her behind. Jimmy almost feels bad for noticing, remembering that he's still technically married. He tries to guess her age. Maybe thirty, thirty-one, couldn't have been that old when she had Lisa. He's pretty sure she's recently divorced as well, and he can't help but wonder if she's feeling the same things, but he doesn't dare ask.
"Smells good!" compliments Jimmy, pretending he hadn't been looking at her.
"Oh, didn't see you there," says Tia. "Yeah, I made some roast chicken for tonight, then some vegetables, and now bread. I can bake a cake later if you'd like."
Jimmy laughs. "No, please don't. I'm really glad you're helping, but that's too much."
"I like doing it," says Tia. "I haven't gotten to cook for a man in years. Lisa, she won't eat half the stuff I make. You at least eat everything on the plate."
"I have a healthy appetite," says Jimmy, smiling. "But what you're doing is very much appreciated. Staying here until Lisa and I get back from practice, cooking, laund watching out for Leslie. Thank you."
Tia blushes, which makes Jimmy nervous, so he goes over to a table, pretends to read a magazine. Tia remains silent, pops open the oven, and takes out the pan without putting on a mitt. She squeals, drops the pan, the bread spilling out onto the floor. Jimmy quickly gets a washcloth from the dish drain, ice from the dispenser, and holds the compress over her hand.
"I'm such an idiot," moans Tia, squirming.
"Hold still," advises Jimmy.
"Thanks. Actually doesn't feel that bad anymore."
"It's the least I can do."
"Now I see why Lisa likes you so much. She just goes on and on about how you've improved her game. You're a great coach, and a good person."
Tia looks into his eyes, and he's surprised, surprised that he'd never really paid attention to her at practices or games, surprised that they're so sweet and inviting, surprised that he feels a warmth that is often missing from this cold house that he wanted to be so much different, surprised that he's feeling what he's feeling. Such pretty hazel eyes.
"Um," says Jimmy, backing away and shaking his head. "I've gotta go because Ashley's showing up soon. I don't think I should be here, don't want to make it awkward. Tell Les I said bye?"
Tia bites her lip, visibly timid. "Okay. I'll see you later."
"Yeah..later."
Jimmy leaves the room, thankful to hear Spinner's car horn, indicating that he's ready to drive him over to practice. Lisa's already outside, fumbling with her duffel bag. He wheels outside, takes one more sad glance at Ashley's car.
"Hope my mom isn't bugging you, Coach," says Lisa, as Spinner gets out of the car.
"No...she's cool," says Jimmy. "A really good cook."
"And a really good date," says Lisa, smiling, winking at him.
"Nice try, Lisa," he says, as she slips into the car.
"Just saying," grins Lisa.
Jimmy looks down, smiles to himself. It's too soon, he thinks, but nice to hear.
II.
"There was nothing at all, no, nothing at all, there was only a dream of you," sings Craig, ambling up the aisle, staring at some hammers, then a couple screwdrivers.
He hears a slight click, and sees Marco headed towards him, folding his sunglasses.
"I have one question for you," says Marco, rolling his eyes. "Why am I at Home Depot?"
"Because I called?" says Craig, innocently.
"Craig...," starts Marco.
"Okay, okay. Well, first, thanks for coming. I know you don't have the best impression of me presently."
"You're just a level above pond scum, and you only rose because I feel bad for Ash. She didn't deserve to be blasted like that by Jimmy. And you and her all over the press. It's insane."
"What!" says Craig, his eyes flashing. "What'd he say to her?"
"Nah, just forget it, man," says Marco. "Just tell me why I'm here."
Craig takes a deep breath, putting Jimmy out of his mind, focusing on this more joyful endeavor. Sydney had taken him to various areas, but as soon as he saw the one on the quiet Carter Avenue, he knew. A blue house with white shutters. Seven, spacious rooms. A wood-burning fireplace. A room he could turn into a studio. A huge room for Leslie. Not pretentious, but classy enough. Yep, it was perfect, and he speedily filled out the paperwork after Sydney gave him the conditions. After chastising Mickey for the news leak, Mickey apologized, felt guilty, agreed to supplying him with the money for the house. While Ashley and Liberty hammered out the details,he headed to the furniture store, started ordering things, flipping through the catalog, finally happy about something in the last couple days. There were still things he needed, and he is hoping Marco will help with the design and color scheme. Ashley was none the wiser, and that pleased him immensely. She'd finally have a nice, warm place to sleep, a less stressful environment, and the thought of waking up to her every morning made him want to dance around town, even though he didn't really dance.
"You're here, because I need your eye for design," says Craig, grinning at Marco.
"For what?" says Marco.
"I just bought a house. For me and Ash."
Marco groans, turns to leave.
"Marco!" exclaims Craig.
"You've...you've got issues, alright?" says Marco, whipping back around. "It's been like two weeks since you ditched El to be with Ash. Okay, I saw that coming, though I didn't like the way you handled it at all. And now you're buying a house!"
"Yeah? So?"
"Craig, you have to be the most...the most spontaneous...I can't figure you out. You have no definition."
"Thanks," jokes Craig, grinning.
"Stop joking. You know what I mean."
"But I need a space for me, Ash, Leslie. This is one spontaneous thing that'll work out for all of us."
"You're that optimistic Ashley will get custody? I know Jimmy's dad is going to pull out all the stops. As much as I admire Liberty's intelligence, she's facing a behemoth."
Craig scratches his chin. Of course, Ashley would get custody. What jury in their right mind would be unable to see that Ashley was a good mother, and that Leslie needed her? He sees it every time they're together.
"Are you going to help me out or not?" asks Craig.
"I don't know..."
"Ignoring that yes, I'm the biggest jerk on the planet for what I did to Ellie, ignoring that you don't agree with this, just please, please, please help. We're friends...usually."
Marco rubs his forehead, and Craig's grateful he seems to be mulling it over.
Craig picks up a pink lava lamp, shakes it. "Good?"
"Yeah, because you guys are so retro," says Marco, taking it and putting it down.
"I was thinking black, like really funky and modern," offers Craig. "I saw this cool, black bedroom on..."
"Did you get the memo that Ashley isn't goth anymore?" interrupts Marco. " She's going to want something more mature, earth tones maybe. Okay, now these are nice lamps."
Marco holds up a light, blue lamp with a white shade. Craig nods approvingly.
"How many rooms are there?"questions Marco.
"Seven. A kitchen, two bedrooms, a den, a basement, two baths," answers Craig. "Money is not an issue."
Marco raises his eyes in alarm. "Get a cart. No, three. We've got work to do."
III.
It all appears the same. The stairwell still creeks, you can still hear dogs barking from the other apartments, the hall still smells like a mix of Lysol and trash. Ellie pinches her nose, follows Sean up the stairs. All the way from Wasaga back to Toronto, they didn't say anything else. Ellie was too afraid to, but she has all sorts of questions. Did he hate her for keeping it in this long? He said he wanted her, and was that the case now?
They slept next to each other on the blanket, Ellie curled next to him, and Sean, by then dry, staring out at the water. She stared at his back until she fell asleep, knowing that they were both emotionally exhausted. Sean woke up with the sun, let her rest until she got up by herself. They stood, brushed the sand off, and headed back to his car, Sean awkwardly staring at the sand as they walked. When his car reached the city line of Toronto, Sean took a sharp left, which startled her. She finally asked where they were going, but before long, she had figured it out. The same landlord was there, glad to see them, said sure, go on up, though it's a bit messy. He handed Sean the key, and now he slips it in, turns on the light.
Their old apartment is completely empty, just dirt and paper all over the floor. Ellie shuffles through it, touches the wall where she used to mark off the calendar with all her appointments and where Sean would tape notes on a little board. Her favorite: Don't drink my chocolate milk. She only did that once, but it was a running joke with them. He wrote it about three times a week. She sighs. She missed those.
"It's like a tomb," whispers Ellie, then immediately wishes she chose a different word based on last night's conversation. "Sorry."
It didn't seem to have that much of an effect. Sean looks like he's in his own world, she thinks. Sean folds his arms, glances around the apartment. Ellie puts a hand on his back.
"Why are we here, Sean?" she asks softly.
"I'm just trying to figure out...you know, figure it all out," he says.
Ellie nods. She understands. That's what she'd been doing for the last several years, figuring out why it happened to her and to Sean, figure out how to make the pain go, pretty much aware that it might be permanent. But something changed last night, in the quiet. As she slept, she felt a gentle touch inside of her, almost like a hand stroking her heart. The weight had been lifted. It made her smile, and she awoke with a smile too.
"I wanted to be there for you," says Sean suddenly.
"I know," says Ellie. "That's what I...um..."
"You what?" prompts Sean.
"That's what I love about you. You're sweet and protective."
"I couldn't protect you then."
Ellie stares into his eyes, rubs his shoulder. "What you're doing now? Just as important to me."
Sean unfolds his arms, runs a hand through her hair, which makes Ellie's knees tremble. She puts her hands on either side of his waist, inches forward, and tries to put her mouth on his. Sean shrinks back, and Ellie listens to the wild beating of his heart.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry," stammers Ellie. "You're sad...and married."
"I'm sad...and married...and I'm scared," stutters Sean, turning red.
"I scared you?" says Ellie, her voice shaking. "I thought..."
"No, no, El," says Sean. "I'm scared because I want to kiss you back."
Ellie's mouth parts, her heart races.
"I go to your neighborhood, and I just walk around, hoping that you'll be in town. When I saw you that day...it was... I feel so stupid," says Sean.
Ellie feels a tear slide down her cheek, a smile trying to escape from her lips.
"What am I going to do?" whispers Sean, staring at Ellie. "Emma...Emma, I have so many feelings. It's like I'm stretched."
"I can't say," replies Ellie. "It's your heart."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to do what you want to do."
Sean begins to pace the room, but Ellie stops him after a couple minutes, hugs him. Sean hugs her back, his breath on Ellie's hair.
"You don't have to decide now," she whispers into his ear. "Just know I love you no matter what."
Sean holds her more tightly, as the light above them starts to dim.
IV.
Her car sits idly by the sidewalk, but Ashley passes it blankly, walking slowly to the house. Craig had offered to go with her, but no, she wanted to travel alone, to think. Truth is she stopped thinking as soon as he left to run some mystery errand. Where would she start? How could she tell Leslie all that needed to be said? She rings the doorbell, the ring too sharp for her ears. She's a tad shocked that the same woman answers, this Tia, but after dispensing some nice greetings, she goes upstairs, anxious and not anxious to see her daughter for what might be the last time. She half wished Jimmy was there, so she could curse at him, yell at him.
She knocks on Leslie's door, low music coming from the room. She doesn't answer, so Ashley presses through. The sight saddens her. Leslie stares out a sunny window, a gloomy expression on her face, tear-stained cheeks. Ashley's heart nearly stops. She goes to Leslie, sits on the bed.
"Hey, Les," she says, putting an arm around her. "I'm glad I caught you before you went to the party today."
"Not going to the stupid party," mutters Leslie.
"Really?"
Leslie looks at her, starts crying into her bosom.
"Aww, sweetie," says Ashley, holding back her own tears, stroking her back.
It kills her when Leslie pushes her arm away, stands, faces the window, her back to her mother.
"Leslie, I'm so sorry I was gone. I wanted to be here with you. I missed you so much," says Ashley.
"I can read!" exclaims Leslie, her back still turned. "I can read small words, and I know how to look up big ones!"
Ashley shakes her head, bewildered. What's she talking about?
"Leslie, I'm not understanding you," she says.
Leslie faces her, sniffling. "In the papers...you and Craig! And Daddy. Don't you care about Daddy anymore?"
Ashley feels numb, doesn't speak.
"I saw a picture of Craig in the paper, read it. I asked Lisa what sole custody means, and she told me. It means you can't see me anymore. Do you want to get rid of me like you did with Daddy?"
"No! No!" cries Ashley. "That's why I'm fighting for you."
"I don't want you to fight for me. You or Daddy. Why can't it be like it was? Why?"
Ashley can't hold the tears back anymore, tries to reach out for Leslie, who backs up.
"I love you, I love Jimmy, but I love Craig too," says Ashley.
"You said Craig was your friend, someone you knew in high school!" yells Leslie. "You didn't marry him. You married Daddy, so don't you love him more?"
Ashley clutches her forehead. "I love your father, just not like that."
"I hate Craig! I hate him!" says Leslie, running to her desk.
She picks up a small notepad, starts ripping out papers. Ashley grabs her, sees one page, reads the lyrics. She thinks back to when Leslie couldn't express herself at all, before the camp, before everything. All that expression she had worked so hard for...she was just ripping it up.
"Your lyrics," whispers Ashley, trying to collect them. "You don't want to keep them?"
"No!" screams Leslie, knocking the paper out of her hands.
"Leslie..."
"Craig's messing up everything. Why are you letting it happen?"
Ashley steadies herself, sits down, and pulls Leslie on her lap.
"You know how you love golf, but you just love music ten times more?" asks Ashley.
Leslie mumbles yes, wipes her tears.
"I love your Dad, care about him more than you think I do, but I love Craig and I can't let him go. I tried, and I can't."
Leslie lays her head on her mother's chest, her anger subsiding. Ashley kisses her forehead, rocks her back and forth. Jimmy can't take her away, she thinks. I'll fight, until I can't fight.
"You can't leave anymore," says Leslie, sniffling.
"We'll be together soon, Les. I promise," says Ashley.
"So Craig's your music?"
Ashley smiles through her tears. "Craig's my music."