Chapter 5
Meredith looped her multicolored, knit scarf haphazardly around her neck, juggling her bag and taking a moment to pull her hair from beneath it, before she eased the door to Sadie Shepherd's room open. It was pitch dark except for the dull swatch of light by the monitors, and the only reason Meredith could see the little girl was because of the contrast between the stark whiteness of the hospital pillow and the inky blot of her hair upon it. She edged over slowly, careful of the soles of her shoes to keep them from clicking too loudly, and peered at the machines.
All seemed well. Her heart rate was lower than normal, but that was expected. Her oxygen level was good, too. Her breathing was regular, a little shallow, but regularity was the important factor. Meredith nodded satisfactorily, readjusted her bag, and was just out the door to leave when a bright white light pierced the darkness.
"Meredith?" Sadie asked weakly, rolling over slowly. Meredith turned back.
"Yeah, sorry, go back to sleep!" she whispered, but watched as Sadie sat up and pulled the iPod buds from her ears.
"I wasn't really asleep." She assured her sluggishly as she lethargically clicked on the bedside light, flooding the room with an artificial yellowish hue.
"I just came to check on you. You're doing really well, kiddo." Meredith observed with a smile. Sadie seemed relieved. Meredith looked at the device on her lap.
"Did you just get that?"
Sadie looked at the shiny, white-plated player.
"Yeah. My mom's friend, Savvy, said I couldn't be a real New Yorker in the long run without one." She said with a sad smile. "She got it for me to travel here with. I only have a hundred fifty songs on it so far."
Meredith moved back into the room and sat on the unoccupied neighboring bed.
"Oh believe me, they'll fill up fast. I've had mine for a few months and I already have over a thousand songs on it."
"Wow!"
"Yeah…but this afternoon it broke," she reached into her bag for the dormant iPod, cursing herself for letting it slip from her grip during lunch. "And I tried resetting it but nothing seems to work."
"You must be upset. I've only had mine for a few days but as soon as it's out of my reach I get a little nervous." Sadie said with grave seriousness. Meredith laughed at the thoughtful crease in her brow, a trait that, among others, was obviously one bestowed upon the child by her mother.
"I'm hoping tonight when I get home I can go online and figure out how to fix it." Meredith shrugged, checking her watch. "Well, I'm going to get in trouble if I keep you up too late. Do you need or want anything before I head out?"
Sadie tinkered with the iPod in her hands. "No…not really."
"You sure?" Meredith asked, tilting her head.
"Yeah, I'm okay." She bit her lip. She didn't mention how when she had woken up before, it had been harder than before to breathe. But she was okay now—well, better than before anyway—and she didn't want Meredith to worry. She liked her when she was more like her friend, and less like her doctor. She had a lot of experience with doctors. But she also didn't want Meredith to call her parents and have them worry. Her dad hadn't shaved in two days and had a scruffy black shadow clinging to his face, and her mom had taken to pulling and twirling her hair, something Sadie knew she only did when she was really upset. And it was all because of her. So she stayed silent.
"Well…all right. I'll be back before you're up, tomorrow, and I'll see you then. Sleep well, Sadie." With that, Meredith pushed herself off of the bed.
"Bye, Meredith." Sadie said sweetly, smiling.
Meredith exited, but instead of making a beeline to the elevators like usual, she stopped at the nurse's station.
"Keep an eye on the little girl in room 747. If anything changes significantly, page me."
After the episode in the car had ended and they had sufficiently loitered in front of Sushi Go-Go long past the legal limits, Derek and Addison had driven in silence to the Doubletree down the street from the hospital where they had carelessly dumped their few belongings upon their initial arrival in Seattle. The car idled in the valet port, and they remained silent, the purr of the engine the only sound.
When the well-dressed but weary valet wrapped a white-gloved hand on the window, Derek jumped. Sluggish from considerable emotional catharsis, they both moved slowly from the car, and stood on the curb of the hotel even after the car had glided away.
"I need a drink." Derek said finally, in a barely audible murmur. Addison hugged her tan camel coat against her, and shivered.
"I don't. I'm going to bed." And she disappeared into the revolving doors. Derek watched her retreat, and as soon as the elevator doors slid shut around her, taking her from his vision, he turned on his heel and walked into the chilly, saturated Seattle night.
"The usual?"
"Actually, I'm taking it easy tonight. Just a beer." Meredith replied, easing her weight onto the stool and slinging her bag over the one next to her. Joe nodded with a smile, and produced a Killian's Irish Red from below the bar. Meredith popped the lid, took a long, leisurely pull from the small mouth of the bottle. Before the beer bottle hit the bar top, George hit the stool on the other side of her. He didn't speak at first, only shook his head and moved his beer in his hands, a sure sign of anxiety.
"What's the matter, George?" Meredith inquired. He continued a vague shaking of his head, and Meredith peered around him, asking, "Where's Olivia?"
"Olivia!" he spoke finally and definitively, as if that answered all of her queries. Meredith raised an eyebrow and grabbed his arm.
"George! You look like a palsy patient! What's wrong? Where's Olivia?" she asked, as if speaking to a child. He snorted and took a shallow sip of his beer.
"She's…she's at the house." He said, tight with tension.
"Okay…and why is she there without you?"
"Because…because she's asleep and I left."
"Why, George?"
"Because…" he took another drink, a deeper one. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"Well let me clear it up. You're at a bar, alone, at night, while your girlfriend is asleep at home in bed. Whatever else you're doing can't be good." Meredith explained, ignoring her beer. He shrugged agitatedly.
"I know, I know I should be there with her…but, I just don't know." He looked at her with his sorrowful, Bambi-like expression she found endearing in a brotherly sort of way. "What if she's not the one?"
Meredith frowned.
"Seriously?"
"What?" he exclaimed.
"You've been with Olivia for almost a year now! She's hopelessly in love with you, and never once have I ever heard of you thinking of her as any less than the woman of your dreams. What changed?" when he didn't respond, only took a drink and avoided her glance, she tilted her head, understanding.
"Is this because she moved into the house?" His continual avoidance of her eyes and another vague shrug gave her the answer.
"Oh George, don't be typical." Meredith implored, taking a swig of beer again. "Seriously, why should her moving in bring all this doubt into the relationship?"
"Because now it's…it's serious!" he nearly hissed the last word, being horribly guyish about the entire thing. Meredith rolled her eyes.
"Okay, think about this: Would you rather she move out?"
"No!" he answered immediately. "I mean, I don't think so."
"Do you like seeing her in the morning when you wake up?"
"Yes."
"When you go to bed?"
"Definitely."
"How about if tomorrow when you woke up, she was gone. How would you feel then?"
A few beats passed before he looked at her.
"I'd feel crappy. Really, super crappy."
Meredith tossed her arms.
"There you go. Whatever happens will happen. But the bottom line is, you want to live with Olivia and she wants to live with you. So live together you shall." She took a victorious pull from her beer, and George nodded slowly.
"I guess. But is it really that simple?"
"Why not? Why not for once, just keep relationships simple?" Meredith asked, reverting more to rhetoric. "In my experience, they only really get fouled up when we bring erroneous variable into them."
George heaved a sigh, and then drained his beer.
"Okay. I'll go home and get into bed with the woman I love." He mumbled, but a smile tugged at his lips.
"Good night, George." Meredith dismissed him with a singsong voice. He smiled sheepishly, grabbed his bag, and headed out. Meredith nodded again with satisfaction and raised the beer to her lips once again.
"This seat taken?" a voice, alarmingly familiar asked. Without bringing the beer down, she moved her eyes over the rim of the bottle to see Derek Shepherd. Fighting the intense surprised reaction of her body, which would result in choking on the beer in her mouth and ungracefully spewing it all over his silk shirt, Meredith took a hard swallow and shrugged.
"Only if you sit in it." She replied smartly, though noting the tautness in his features. He slung a sleek jacket over the bar and eased next to her.
"What can I get you?' Joe asked, his interest peaked by the devastating attractiveness Derek Shepherd permeated from his very breathing, even in this elevated state of anguish and worry.
"Double scotch, single malt." He replied, the usual order rolling easily from his mouth. Joe nodded, and sauntered off when Derek directed his gaze to Meredith.
"So, Doctor Grey," he said with misery in his voice, "What's your story?"
Meredith, her beer empty but still clutched in her now damp palm, raised her eyebrows.
"My story? I don't have a story. I'm just a girl in a bar." She replied, watching as Joe handed the tiny, amber-filled glass to Derek. He took a sip, never breaking his stare.
"Oh, c'mon. Everyone has a story." He returned with a crooked humorless smile.
She could only smile in return.
"Well you go first."
Derek pressed his lips together.
Where should he start? Do a David Copperfield, describe his driven, obsessive parents that had incessantly pushed and prodded him through his childhood and early adulthood? Or should he start in adulthood, with his optimistic, naïve, love struck marriage to Addison, the arrival of Sadie, and his rise to fame as the best neurosurgeon on the East coast, possibly the country? No, that was cliché. How about when said marriage seemed to dissolve into the background of his priorities, along with—though he only now admitted it—parenthood in lieu of his career? No. That was par for the course. His story for why he was in the bar at that hour talking to this woman was much more recent.
After taking another tug of liquor and allowing it to burn its unique path down his esophagus, he spoke.
"Two days ago, I found a love note for my wife that I didn't write." With just enough melodrama, he pulled from the pocket of his jacket the note he had found two nights before amongst Addison's work. He placed it on the bar, and Meredith read it quizzically.
Addison,
I don't regret my behavior.
I hope you don't, either.
He doesn't deserve you.
You should be with someone who does.
Love, Jamie
"Who's…Jamie?" she managed, pushing the note slightly more towards him. He looked at it and shook his head.
"An intern that works for her."
"Are they…I mean, were they…"
"I thought so." He responded quickly, signaling nonverbally for Joe to fill his glass again. "But she told me tonight they didn't."
"And you believe her?" Meredith queried, sourness exploding in her stomach at the idea of marital infidelity as memories of her parents' problems washed over her.
"I do." he nodded, taking a sip from the refreshed drink. "I mean, of course I doubted it, but the more I think about it, when I found that, I didn't give her much of a chance to explain. Hell, I didn't give her any. And when I think about her when I found it, she was trying to tell me something, but I..."
"Well…what did you do?"
He pressed his hands to either side of his head and closed his eyes.
"I laughed." He murmured. Meredith cocked an eyebrow.
"That's not…the usual reaction."
He was silent for a few moments.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this." He murmured.
"Because I'm listening." She returned with a shrug.
"I…I laughed because…I should have been shocked. Outraged. Jealous. But…I didn't feel any of those things." He mused, opening his eyes and removing his hands from his head to grasp his glass. "I was just…a voice in my head told me I should have been expecting this. That, in reality, I was almost as responsible for it as she was. We…I…she…we haven't been the closest these past…years."
"Work?"
"That, and just…everything. I—both of us—were just a little absent. And that little grew to very. And then, somewhere, very became completely." He finished the drink, finally, and flipped the glass over.
Meredith considered this. It was a typical story, one that could unfold among any two successful married people. Especially if they happened to be doctors. Sometimes, the results were disastrous, as it had been for her when a very similiar situation gutted her family when she was five. Here was essentially the same instance—with a little less complication, seeing as apparently Mrs. Dr. Shepherd hadn't actually had an affair like Ellis Grey had. But the fact still remained, that when this kind of gulf was allowed to expand, people found themselves in bed with a stranger every night, but unable to grow closer, as would normally take place were the other person actually a stranger suddenly brought into their life. No, this was an inescapable kind of distance.
This realization, Meredith deduced, after almost twelve years of marriage, coupled only the next day by the discovery of Sadie's arguably obvious health issue, had obviously been destroying the Shepherds. It would explain Addison's depressive resignation, Derek's listless hopelessness, and especially, Sadie's well-masked melanchol.
"And now, what?" she asked, allowing him the opportunity to refuse to answer. He blew a breath from between his lips and once again met her gaze with a devastated smile.
"Now…my wife wants a divorce. And I can't even blame her. I have become…indifferent. Cold. Detached. And our marriage is, basically, a shell of what was once a really great love." He dejectedly rolled his shoulders, and Meredith scowled, thinking suddenly of George.
"You did love her, then?"
"Yes, of course."
"Do you still?"
He knitted his brow sadly. "I do."
"Does she still love you?"
This time he hesitated. "I don't know. I just don't know. I think so."
Meredith shook her head.
"You have to find out."
He blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"You have to find out!" she insisted, yanking his jacket from its resting place, and tossing it on him.
"But…" he bumbled, but Meredith cut him off.
"It's my turn, for my story. You want to know why I'm in this bar? It's really a much longer story, but it boils down to one thing- giving up."
Derek was still bewildered. "I don't understand."
"Look," she spread her hands in pedagogic manner. "My mother—an amazing surgeon. Not so amazing was she as a mother, and definitely not as a wife. She had an affair. I don't know if was really an affair or if she was in love, but in the end, she told my dad and made him leave. She told him to. And you know what? He did. He left. He went quietly into the night, because that's what she wanted. But you know what? That was bullshit. He never once considered fighting her, finding out if she still loved him. He just gave up."
Derek's face had caved in with understanding, and anguish.
"I'm sorry." He murmured uselessly.
"Don't be!" she said with a dismissive hand motion. "Because really, it's unchangeable at this point. There's no going back, for my father. He let his marriage, love, and child go like it was nothing—like it have never been anything. If he hadn't done that, and I hate to speculate on ridiculous what-ifs, but if he hadn't done that, maybe their marriage could have salvaged. Maybe I would still have somewhat of a relationship with him. Maybe he wouldn't be this abstract figure I only imagine. Maybe, I wouldn't be sitting here right now, in this bar, by myself."
Derek's mouth slid open, but Meredith cut him off.
"I know, it's oversimplified and Freudian, but really, you never know what could have been. We know what was. And you have a chance, a real chance here, to fight indifference and make the future better for you, your wife, and for your daughter. You still love your wife—maybe she still loves you, too. If she does, you have to fight. Because it's what should be done. Because you can't just…quit on people you love when there's still love left. That, quitting, is worse than any indifference."
A long moment of silence drew between the essential strangers, Derek's head muddled with discontent and confusion, Meredith's whirling with memories painfully etched in her heart.
Before either could speak, Meredith's pager exploded in cacophonous melody, sending her shooting from her seat.
"What is it?" Derek asked, his doctoring instincts peaked. Meredith squinted at the tiny print, and the blood drained from her face.
"It's—it's Sadie."
A/N: I don't really have anything to say, at this point. I didn't include much Addison here, but I had some fun with Meredith. As whiny as she can be, she's a pretty interesting character to work with. Hope this was enjoyable, and you'll be inclined to share your response with me and, more importantly, keep reading! More is in the works!
PS: the iPod defectiveness in the beginning, unfortunately, is a mirror of life. Anyone who knows some remedy (anything, anything at all, including magical spells) that will revive an iPod from sudden nonresponsiveness and could impart this knowledge to me via e-mail or messaging would be loved forever! Thanks!
