Maybe It's Better This Way

Chapter 11: Most of the Time

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It's official this story actually hates me. I have a fight with it every time I work on it. It's putting years on my life trying to untangle my timelines and endless sections that refuse to match up! Consequently your patience is appreciated!

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That week passed very slowly. Kirsten refused to let Sandy spend all his time at home with her but he often fixed it that way; bringing files home and scheduling meetings so that he could be back for lunch or home in the afternoon. Kirsten herself felt useless away from the office, she had nothing to do, not that she felt like doing anything at all. The boys were at school during the day and they hardly needed a mother, now she'd lost the chance to be one again.
Most of the time she didn't get up in the morning; she couldn't face it. It was a lot easier to force herself out of bed when the sunshine wasn't streaming in through the windows, mocking her melancholy. The woman who had once loathed a moment spent in bed unless it was with Sandy now used it as a shield. It was so much easier to hide in the cocoon of the covers and if her husband jeopardized this fragile safe-zone there was always the closet. She didn't want to move on she just wanted to forget. Go to bed and wake up as though none of this had happened, go back to how things were before. Last night she had caught Sandy crying in his study, embarrassed by his tears she had crept away unseen, guilty for not comforting him. She wondered why she hadn't cried. She had cried over Ryan's sheets and Seth's letter, dampening the cotton, smudging the ink with her tears. Yet now she just felt empty, a dried up shell that simply ached inside. But perhaps it was better that way. As long as she didn't cry she was okay.

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'Don't hang up!' the voice on the line said urgently, half-demand, half-pleading. And so Ryan found himself on the phone with Caleb Nichol for the second time in less than a week.

'Uh…Mr Nichol? I'll get someone,' he offered, wondering which lie he could use to get one of the Cohen men to the phone or whether he should just hang up. Caleb had been ringing constantly since Kirsten had come home and Ryan had avoided the phone on principle.

'No!' the harsh voice stopped him in his tracks. 'I mean, you're fine; if you'll agree to talk to me.'

'Um…sure.'

'Seth and Sandy won't talk to me anyway.'

'They're angry,' was the matter of fact response.

'And you're not?'

'I am but…'

'I understand Ryan and I appreciate you talking to me. I just really need to know about Kirsten.'

'You don't know?'

'Not enough. I've only seen her once since…since…'

'You were at the hospital?'

'Yes.' Caleb sounded exasperated.

'We didn't see you.'

'I had to keep out of Sandy's way, no point both of us having to be hospitalised.'

'He is pretty upset.'

'And I respect that but she's my daughter,' he said protectively.

'She's his wife,' Ryan shot back.

'I know,' Caleb answered, working to not sound mutinous about it.

'When did you see her?'

'Wednesday.'

Caleb thought ruefully of the brief interlude with his daughter.

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Sandy had just left the hospital room, shadow circled eyes showing more than tiredness, broad shoulders bowed. Caleb took the opportunity to slip into the room. She reminded him of her mother in the hospital bed, curled up facing away from the door, away from reality. The memories hurt. He wondered if she was sleeping but somehow he doubted it. Nonetheless, he stood and watched her 'sleep' for several minutes. Caleb Nichol wasn't one for religion but he thanked whatever deities listening that she was here. But he was angry that this time there was no one to blame. Except himself.

When things went wrong for him there was hell to pay but now he couldn't do anything. Being the shrewd businessman he was, he knew he wasn't entirely to blame but for once he couldn't escape from his part in the mess. While he couldn't control the preeclampsia that could have taken both lives, he knew the miscarriage was, for the most part, directly attributable to him. His demands, his behaviour, his stupid argument. If there was anything he hated it was failure, losses and not being in control. He would have been angry with the doctors for failing to recognise the signs, but they were the same doctors who had saved her. They only person he could really be justified in hating was himself, the other factors in the loss of the baby; her age, her stubbornness, the sickness, were of minor importance when he faced the negligence on his own part; he hadn't even known. No suspicions, nothing. He hated himself for that and no doubt Kirsten did also. But right now the guilt had to be put aside, he had to see her. See where things stood between them or whether this was it.

They had fought throughout her childhood and bitterly when she was a teenager, too alike to get along; both headstrong, proud and intelligent. Kirsten liked her independence, always wanted to be more than just his daughter. As she grew older their arguments became more divisive and when she left for Berkeley their relationship was irrevocably damaged. Of course, it hadn't helped that he had stayed angry so long and failed to walk his eldest daughter down the aisle. Over the years she had threatened to cut him out of her life several times and he had always managed to wheedle his way back in. After college, after Sandy, after the wedding, when they'd stayed in Berkeley, when he'd pissed her off over the years; treating Sandy like trash, working her too hard, insulting Ryan, after the Heights case, making Julie CEO, after Lindsay, the list went on. But this time was different and he wasn't sure he could forgive himself, never mind expect Kirsten to.

Kirsten shifted position, slowly, painfully, eyes, as he had suspected, were open and fixed momentarily on her father in surprise before sliding away, The hurt and resentment in those blue orbs continued to haunt him.

'Kirsten,' he stuttered helplessly, watching as she turned away biting back a moan of pain at the movement.

'Go…away,' she had forced out, her jaw clenched, whether to stop tears, against pain or simply in anger he couldn't tell but the eyes focussed on the ceiling were unnaturally dry.

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't want to hear it,' she spat. 'Not get out before I press the call button and have you removed.'

Caleb knew when he was beaten yet he hesitated. His daughter's breathing was laboured, the outburst having had emotional and physical effects. It was the reappearance of is son-in-law at the other end of the corridor, dressed in his court suit and glancing at his watch, that sent him off in the opposite direction, hoping the gentle wheezing in his daughter's chest would subside if he wasn't there to agitate her.

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'Mr Nichol?' Ryan's voice was a mixture of confusion, awkwardness and polite exasperation.

'Afraid I was thinking there, what did you say?'

'I didn't.'

'Oh yes, you're the quiet one.'

Ryan didn't respond.

'Well, ahem…is Kirsten…?'

'I…don't think she's ready to talk to you yet.'

'I know, just tell me how she's doing.'

'Well um, the doctors said she had to rest and Sandy's made sure she has.'

'Has she said anything about me.'

'Uh no…she's been very quiet.'

'How quiet?'

'Sort of…mute.'

'Oh dear. After…after my wife died she got like this. Sandy was the only one she'd talk to.'

'Not this time.'

'If there's anything I can do.'

'With all due respect Mr Nichol, I think you've done enough.'

Caleb didn't appreciate the boy's tone but knew he was right.

'Do you think I've lost daughter and granddaughter?'

Ryan swallowed uncomfortable, this was a surreal conversation. He guessed grief and guilt did strange things to people because Caleb Nichol firstly talking to him and secondly baring his soul was the last thing he'd expected when he picked up the phone. But with Sandy refusing to answer any calls in order to avoid the Newpsies and Caleb, and Seth still in bed, he hadn't any choice but to answer the persistent ring. Kirsten, even if she had been in a fit state to converse, was ignoring her family, never mind the telephone.

'I deserve to lose them both.'

'Yes, you do but…I also know that it wasn't all your fault so you don't…and I guess deep down Kirsten knows that too.'

'Maybe, well… Thank you Ryan.'

'You're welcome?'

'Do you think I could uh, maybe call you again, keep updated?'

'Um…sure.'

'Poolhouse extension is 461 right?'

'Yeah,' Ryan answered absently. Caleb calling him on the private line. To quote Seth that was almost too minty for words. He accepted more thanks and a brusque goodbye before being left with the dial tone.

Yes. Definitely far too minty.

Fuck. Forget Seth's alternative vocabulary. When the hell had he become Caleb Nichol's personal confessor?

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The next day there came an impatient rap on the door and Sandy found his mother-in-law behind a bunch of flowers. 'I'm here to see Kirsten,' Julie announced, ignoring Sandy's protests, merely thrusting the bouquet at him and stalking towards the bedroom, 'she might just need a chat woman-to-woman.'

Sandy looked uncertainly at the flowers, initially smiling as he recognised Kirsten's favourite flower and thinking how strange it was that Julie had become such a good friend. From Julie Cooper irritating neighbour and evil Newpsie to Jimmy Cooper's ex and manipulative bitch, then she had morphed into Julie Cooper-Nichol, Newport's most powerful woman, one half of the gruesome twosome, hilarious mother-in-law and usurper of the CEO position, before further transforming to become a confidante and friend.

But at the same time he had niggling doubts about the flowers. Flowers had always been special to Kirsten but not always for the right reasons. They meant the endless wreaths after her mother's death and the apologetic bouquets from her husband when he was in the doghouse as well as the bunches of daisies her son brought her as a child. He didn't know how she would react to these.

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'How're you feeling?' Julie asked matter-of-factly. Kirsten debated not answering but the sharp blue eyes above her demanded a response. 'A little sore,' she found herself replying unexpectedly.

'And up here?' Julie asked, tapping her vibrant head with a long, perfectly manicured nail. 'The same I guess,' Kirsten mumbled, 'if that makes any sense.' Julie gave a tense smile but the other woman had turned away.

She reached out and tilted the blonde head back towards her. 'Don't do this Kirsten, don't shut me out.'

Kirsten swallowed. 'It's nothing personal. I'm doing it to everyone, even Sandy.'

'He's worried.'

'I'll be fine. I just need some time and space. Two concepts the Cohen clan doesn't seem to appreciate…except the Cohen-Atwood component.'

'I guess Ryan understands what you're going through.'

'I hate that I'm dragging all those issues up.'

'Kiki, this isn't your fault!'

'That's debatable.'

'Have you talked to Sandy?'

'No.'

'Why not? He's going through the same thing.'

'Also debatable.'

She didn't quite know what to say in response to that so she changed tack.

'Did it hurt?'

'What?'

'The…you know…'

If she hadn't been feeling so wretched Kirsten would have smiled at that. Blunt, invasive, personal questions were Julie's forte.

'Um…I was unconscious; first naturally then medically so I didn't really…feel anything. I guess things were pretty uncomfortable when I woke up but I was uh, more preoccupied with the emotional pain.'

Julie squeezed the older woman's hand and changed gear again.

'Think about it this way Kirsten, you escaped from eighteen more years of guard-duty. And all of those awful baby-related things; swollen feet, stretch marks, labour pains, sleepless nights, nappies, nightmares, worry…Can you imagine me going through that again?'

'I'd rather not Julie; you are married to my father.'

Julie sniggered, 'Sorry, I guess not!

'There are so many things that make it worth it though,' Kirsten disputed.

'What? The pregnancy 'glow', seriously, it's overrated.'

'I meant after that.'

Her stepmother considered for a moment, 'Hmm I don't see it. Kids are sticky and icky; always puking and peeing and wanting to eat.' Julie barely restrained from saying a Summer-esque 'eww'. 'They're only cute for a couple of years and then they become teenagers.'

'Oh I don't know,' Kirsten sighed, realising Julie wasn't going to understand. 'I guess I'm just suffering from premature empty-nest syndrome.'

'You're too sweet Kiks, I couldn't face it; kids give you wrinkles in all the wrong places.'

Kirsten laughed at the flippant comment but the sound was hollow. Everything Julie had mentioned was worth it. She would have given anything to have that baby.

Julie watched the desolate look creep back across her friend's face and sighed. It was going to take more than a pep-talk and a few lame jokes to make Kirsten smile again. Julie's Kirsten would never spend a minute longer in bed than she had to; this one looked like she needed several days sleep.

'I should go or Sandy will be complaining,' she said, bending to kiss Kirsten. 'I'm so sorry and I think you should know Cal is too. I didn't know he had a real heart till now.' And with that Julie Cooper-Nichol was gone.

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