Maybe It's Better This Way

Chapter: 16: Second Chances

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AN. July 2005: Not a very happy first part of chapter – sorry – feeling a little depressed at the mo – endoftermitus, v tired after sports day and a bit disappointed about not being a prefect…kinda knew I wouldn't (long story, big palaver) but I still hoped! Ah well…can be a rebel now lol!

AN. August 2006: I love all my darling reviewers. Sorry this was a little late – I got called into work randomly. Extra long to make up for it.

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Sandy Cohen was dreaming, only he didn't know he was asleep. The scene playing in his head was, at first, an exact replica of real life.

He and Kirsten were sat at the kitchen table, two mugs of decaf coffee (Sandy enduring a sympathy cup) and that morning's crossword in front of them.

'Renaissance painter, seven letters?'

'Raphael.'

'Five-letter word for 'content?'

'Oh-my-gosh!'

'Don't think that's it honey, Sandy said teasingly, not looking up.

'I didn't mean the crossword.' His wife spoke breathlessly, her eyes alight and a pink tinge across her cheeks. 'I felt her move. Sandy, she moved.'

Sandy's hands went immediately to the small bump, still secretly hidden by her clothes. 'I can't feel anything,' he complained jokingly, grinning at his wife's delighted face. He loved her being this happy, seeing her smiling face, hearing the laughter in her voice. They should have had another baby years ago.

'You probably won't; it's early yet and right now it's just like butterflies but lower down.'

He shifted his hands lower, lovingly smoothing them across her belly. She smiled self-consciously and rested her head against his, their lips meeting softly until Sandy broke away suddenly.

He'd felt it. Barely anything, just something, but so much at the same time; a slight fluttering under her skin, proof the baby was there.

'I felt it too,' he declared excitedly, leaning down and talking to her stomach.

'She can't hear you yet,' Kirsten giggled, 'you'll have to be patient.'

Patient. Patience. Waiting.

He hated waiting.

Suddenly he was in a hospital. The waiting room instantly recognisable by the ugly orange chairs.

Waiting for the baby.

He heard a newborn cry.

He woke and found his wife sobbing next to him.

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Kirsten woke in the middle of the night again; it was becoming a regular occurrence. It seemed as though the sleeping pills were better at making her drowsy during the day and early evening. The early hours were her new hell. In the darkness her thoughts crowded into her head and she'd try miserably to stop her silent sobs shaking the bed and waking Sandy. He always knew though; often he was already awake, lying staring at the ceiling. And when he heard her uneven breathing he'd only feel worse; those nights even Sandy's comfort wasn't enough in the engulfing blackness and whether he held her or not she would cry herself into exhaustion. Sometimes she let him try to soothe her but usually she was too upset and angry, petulantly shrugging his arms away. They would lie side by side, separated by a wide strip of mattress, Kirsten's quiet tears the only sound in the heavy silence between them. He could never decide which was worse, Kirsten accepting his embrace and still crying helplessly, or being turned away. Both options left him feeling useless, angry words he could live with, inconsolable crying just got to him.

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Night after night was the same and Sandy had to admit that although Kirsten had broken her silence she hadn't come to terms with any of it. The realisation that things were seeming to get worse rather than better was frightening, making him postpone taking action. However, a couple of days later he was forced to act.

The combination of grief, hormones and drugs; the medicine from the hospital, doctor-prescribed anti-depressants viewed sceptically by Sandy, and sleeping pills at Kirsten's own demand, meant she wasn't herself. More often than not the sleeping pills wouldn't kick in until it was too late and she was physically exhausted, then she'd drag herself groggily up in the morning only to cry herself into confusion because she was so tired and upset. So tired but unable to sleep for the guilty thoughts chasing each other round and round inside her head, for the fidgeting fingers betraying how much she really wanted, no, needed, a drink, for the guilt that wouldn't let her shut her eyes because of who she saw on her eyelids.

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Sandy was running an exasperated hand through his already wild hair as he frowned at a case file that should have been closed last week but he hadn't been able to concentrate on. His concentration was broken again by Kirsten rushing into his office. He leapt up at the sight of her flushed face, 'Kirsten honey, are you okay?'

She nodded, waving him away and nervously held out a plain brown envelope. He took it, still concerned but registering her shining eyes and the smile playing on her lips. He opened the envelope and drew out a single piece of card. He frowned, struggling to focus on the grainy image, 'Wh-what is it?'

'What does it look like?' she asked breathlessly.

'Well it looks like a scan picture, but…' he shook his head in disbelief as she nodded. 'Sweetheart, when did you get this?'

Her lip trembled as he put his arm around her, 'This morning, there was some mistake, and now…'

'Oh Kir,' he cut her off, 'you've got to let go. The baby's gone darling, I know it hurts but you can't pretend. I'm sorry.'

Kirsten drew back, tears filling her bright blue eyes, 'But…'

'This is an old picture isn't it?' he said gently, his voice rumbling in his chest.

'No, no, it's not,' she choked, unable to control her tears.

Sandy's heart broke for her again as he pulled her close and let her sob wretchedly in the haven of his arms. 'It's okay, shh baby, it's alright, it's all going to be alright,' he murmured, wishing he believed it himself.

That was the day he insisted on a change in medication; the cocktail she was talking had no apparent positive effects leaving the woman he loved a mocking mirage of who she used to be

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A few more days passed and Kirsten still wasn't herself despite seeming a little better after her prescription was changed. The outcome of a bitter row and Kirsten being frogmarched to the doctors again. She was apparently managing to cope but recovery is always a tightrope. Baby steps were the answer. She made the first concerning her father on a grey morning much like the one where it all began, more than three weeks since reality unravelled.

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'Well if it isn't my prodigal sister-in-law, reformed,' Sandy said, laughing into the receiver. 'How the hell are you Hailey?'

Kirsten looked up from her breakfast tray at the mention of her sister's name.

'…Good, that's great… No, Newport isn't the same without you! ….Flattery? Me? …Oh yes I'm keeping busy, too busy…ok maybe I do gauge it on how I often I get to surf in a week….bad business practice? Hailey Nichol I expected better from you… Your sister? She's right here, having breakfast in bed… Why? Um, well…' He noticed his wife's fixed glare and quickly covered up the near admission that not all was well. 'Just because I love her…. You not found yourself an honest man yet then? …Actually forget I asked that… Please, I'm too old for such stories… I'll hand you over to Kirsten. Take care Hail.'

'So breakfast in bed huh?' Hailey remarked. 'What is it, second honeymoon?'

'It's just Sandy, being nice,' she answered quietly.

'Oh really? Care to expand on that?'

'Um well there's black coffee, bacon, those little waffles I like so much, whipped butter, two fried eggs, fruit and OJ. He calls it the whaler.'

'Kirsten! Are you being naïve or cheeky?'

'What?'

'What's the reason for breakfast in bed? Tell me about last night.'

'Last night? Uh…'

'I'm your sister, you can tell me.'

'Oh…oh! Hailey! Nothing like you're thinking.'

'Boring. I know you're old but come on.'

She almost hung up, not able to deal with this kind of conversation right now.

'Kiks?'

'Let's talk about you Hailey. How's Japan?'

'Full of Japanese meaning I'm kind of a freak show but otherwise it's still great.'

'So tell me about the latest collection.'

Hailey chatted enthusiastically if someone absently about her job, her friends and the guy in the bar last night, whilst her mind worked overtime trying to work out what was upsetting her sister. As much as Kirsten hated talking about her sex life she usually got a few more details out of her. And she sounded subdued, too tired to argue.

'I'm getting the impression you're really not okay,' she said suddenly.

'Mmm that's nice.'

'Kiki are you even listening to me?'

That got her attention. 'You know not to call me that.'

'I also know that you're not listening to me so something's wrong.'

Kirsten hesitated but couldn't quite find the words. 'I'm fine,' she lied once again.

'Promise?'

'I'm tired Hail, that's all. It's been…a rough couple of weeks.'

'O…kay.'

'So is everything okay with you? What did you really call for? Knowing you it wasn't just to brag about the 'ikemen', in other words, hotties.'

'Well…' As Kirsten had suspected her sister wasn't simply making a social call.

'I was…I was thinking about Mom.'

Kirsten swallowed; she should have known this was coming. She'd marked her mother's birthday with private tears, surprised when Hailey hadn't called.

'It's just Susie's mom came out to see her and they didn't fight like Mom and I did…'

'Hailey sweetie, you've got to let this go. She forgave you for all that.'

'But we fought right up until she died. Why did I do that?'

'Because you two were too alike that's all.'

'Yeah I guess. You're more like Dad.'

'Mmm.'

'And yet it was always me and him against you and Mom, why was that?'

'He liked you best.'

'Yeah right. All I've ever done is piss him off.'

'He…he's proud of you, sorting you life out.'

'Not as proud as he is of you.'

'I wouldn't count on it.' Kirsten muttered feeling the conversation was getting too deep. Her sister's comments about the final months with their mom were hitting a nerve. Hailey had been angry, angry at being left out of the loop so long, angry at the cancer, angry that she couldn't do anything. Things hadn't been peaceful in the Nichol household as the family struggled to come to terms with the time limit on Katherine Cohen's life. Her sister's anger had spilled over to focus on the dying woman herself and the relationship had been fraught to say the least. Even now, years later, Hailey couldn't forgive herself for not making the last months of her mother's life more peaceful.

Katherine had understood; she knew exactly how Hailey felt. In a strange way the arguments kept her going; something other than the pitying looks of the Newpsies, the utter devastation in the eyes of her eldest daughter and the absence of her husband who buried himself in his work. Kirsten hadn't understood. Her anger came later, the inability to cope with reality appeared the moment her mother was gone. And then she knew how Hailey felt, wishing she'd done something other than tried to play mediator. It wasn't as if the pair had parted without being reconciled but Hailey was still guilty and Kirsten knew that she would be to. If her father died tomorrow she wouldn't forgive herself. And so when the conversation with her sister ended she didn't return the phone to the beside table.

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The phone rang at his desk, distracting Caleb from nothing other than his thoughts. The knowledge that he had perhaps lost his third and final daughter weighed heavily on his mind; suddenly his business empire seemed insignificant.

'Mr Nichol?' his secretary's voice suddenly filtered into his conscious. 'Mr Nichol?'

'Yes?' he barked, angry at being caught so distracted.

'Your daughter is on line one.'

'Kirsten?' he asked in hopeful surprise.

'Um…no, it's Hailey.'

'Oh…right, that's great. Put her through.'

'Mr Nichol…is uh, Kirsten okay? I heard…'

'You heard nothing.'

'I understand, just, send her my love.'

'I will do,' he answered, disconnecting the internal line and reflecting that while his new assistant wasn't Phyllis, she had a good heart.

'Hailey! It's good to hear from you.'

'Ditto but what's with the over-exuberant greeting?' she asked blissfully unaware that Kirsten was currently steeling herself to call their father and would find the line unavailable.

'Can't a father be happy to talk to his daughter who hasn't called for months?'

'You haven't called me.'

'Well…I…uh, I'm sorry Hail.'

'What is going on? Since when do you apologise rather than make excuses about work?'

'I was just…'

'You and Kirsten fighting again? That's the only thing I can think of that gets you in a state.'

'So how are you?' Caleb asked, ignoring her.

'Dad. I'm not six anymore tell me what's going on. I know something is up; I've just been on the phone to Kirsten and she was similarly more interested in my affairs.'

Caleb sighed wishing he hadn't answered the phone himself. 'I guess you're gonna find out sometime so…'

'Yes I am so spit it out.'

'Your sister….your sister was pregnant.'

'Really?' Hailey's shriek caused her father to hold the phone away from his ear.

'Yes but…'

Suddenly Hailey caught up. 'Was?'

'Yeah. Couple of weeks ago, preeclampsia and a miscarriage because we…had a fight; she lost the baby,' he came clean haltingly.

'Fuck. Dad!'

'I didn't mean to, it just happened and I didn't know she was pregnant and…'

'You think I don't know that? You'd never intentionally hurt her or me. Despite how paltry your latest cheque was…kidding!'

Caleb sighed and she guessed her brother-in-law had rubbed off of her. It was too early to joke.

'So Newport is as dramatic as ever huh?'

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It took four attempts to actually finish keying in the number and then he wasn't even there. At first she was angry. Angry that when she'd finally plucked up the courage and enough guilt to call, he was either not in or talking to someone else. Suddenly she was incredibly relieved that she didn't have to go through with this, and then immediately guilty for being glad. She'd come this far, she shouldn't back out now.

She left two empty messages before she finally managed to stay on the line long enough to speak. Kirsten steeled herself when the automated message played. How on earth she would ever face her father if she balked at his answer phone?

Caleb Nichol is currently unavailable. Please leave a message and someone from the relevant department will get back to you.

Kirsten wondered if he would bother to call back. She remembered the 'relevant department' who had returned her calls as a child. It had always been Phyllis, never her father himself. His assistant had answered hundreds of her questions and told her the lies to go with them.

He's in a meeting sweetie.

Yes he misses you.

No he doesn't like the nasty investor men.

I'm sure he'll call the minute he gets back.

He loved the calendar honey. It's up in office right now.

It was eight years of calendar making before Kirsten discovered Phyllis was the one with the string and picture hooks. That year she didn't make him one and he didn't even notice.

'…Dad,' she began. 'Dad, I don't want to talk to you but…' She swallowed uncomfortably, wishing she hadn't done this. 'But I-I should have told you. I just…wanted to say I know it wasn't all your fault even if I haven't acted like it,' Kirsten said in a rush, her voice cracking. 'I'm…sorry.'

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AN. Now I wasn't so sure about the office bit but I didn't want to leave it out after writing it! It's kinda odd but you have to remember that she's seriously distressed at this point.

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Angst whore? Moi? Never!

… (I didn't say the r-word!)

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