Thank for all the reviews on the last 2 updates, and waiting so patiently for the new update. Here it is! Would love to hear from you!
. . . . . . . . . .
Chapter 3
"How did you leave things?" Adam questions.
Sam leans forward on his forearms, looking at his hands. The tremors have calmed considerably since the tea Cassie made him. Or maybe it was just her presence.
He's not really sure.
"I made up some excuse about paperwork and she left." "How do feel about it all?"
The words are a jumbled mess in his head and it irritates him to no end that he can't string them together. Make sense of it all. The anger that always seems to be there bubbles just below the surface, and he sighs. "This isn't working."
"Just take a breath-"
"-I want to punch my hand through a wall right now, Adam," he bites off. "This isn't me."
"It's not," Adam agrees. "It's the trauma, Sam. Take a breath."
He inhales deeply through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. "I feel like I'm loosing my grip...like I'm loosing myself."
"When you feel like that, it's important to ground yourself. Spend time with Nick, go for a run...talk to Cassie."
Sam leans back in his chair, rubbing his face. "The medication isn't working."
"That's funny. I could have sworn I told you it wouldn't," Adam comments. "The side effects are a doozy."
"I'm exhausted, Adam...I can't sleep and when I do, the nightmares..." He shakes his head. "It's all I can do just to make it through the day."
"I'm going to prescribe you some natural remedies." Adam rises from his seat, heading towards his desk. "You can take them in capsule form, if you prefer." He scribbles something down on his prescription pad before circling the desk to hand it to him.
Sam looks down at the prescription. "Any chance these are chamomile, valerian and rooibos?"
Adam laughs. "That's exactly what it is. How'd you know?" "I didn't. Cassie did."
...
"So?"
Nick sighs, flopping down on the couch they've found at the Bistro. "Am I a terrible person for not wanting my own mother around?"
Grace sits beside him. "That bad, huh?"
"She hasn't even been here 24 hours and my dad is wound tighter than usual...she's constantly judging everything and I just know she's here to talk about him having full custody."
"Do you think she wants to change that?" Grace questions unsurely. "It doesn't matter what she wants-"
"-Nick-"
"-you wouldn't understand, Grace," he cuts off angrily.
The waitress has arrived with their drinks, and Grace thanks her, giving him a minute. "So explain it to me then."
Nick stares down into his smoothie. "...I think she just loves the idea of me. If she really loved me...she would have fought my dad harder for me the first time around."
She stares down into her tea, trying to find the right words. The truth is, she will never truly understanding what Nick is going through and she can't imagine what his childhood was like with the constant fighting. "I'm sorry, Nick."
"...what worries me the most is that she might actually win this time," he adds quietly.
Everything with his dad hangs unsaid between them and although the Bistro is bustling around them with activity, everything feels as if it's come to a halt.
"He's not ok, Grace."
She reaches out, placing a hand on his arm. "He could be getting help," she tries to reassure him. "Just because he hasn't told you, doesn't mean he's not."
Setting the smoothie on the coffee table in front of them, Nick leans forward on his knees, rubbing his face. "This is all so messed up...can we just...change the subject, please?"
She grips his shoulder in support, before heaving her own sigh. "Well...our world history project is due at the end of the week and we really need to get together with Courtney to plan it out."
"That's perfect!"
Grace frowns. "Perfect?"
"Yeah...text Courtney and see if we can go to her place after school to work on it...I need a break from my house."
Something inside of her agrees with him, and she smiles. "On it."
...
The display in his SUV flashes a text from Nick right before the speech feature kicks -in over the speakers.
Got a history project, due end of the week...going to Courtney's with Grace to work on it...probs won't be home til later
He pulls into the drive, parking. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he types back.
Let me know if you and Grace need a ride home.
Nick likes the message and he takes a minute to sit with how far they've come. When they lived in New York, it wasn't uncommon for him to arrive home to an empty apartment and spend half the evening calling his friends to find out where he was. He clicks on the message again, typing.
I love you
The bubble pops up immediately, followed by an eye roll emoji. He laughs.
Love you too dad
Turning off the car, he slides out the drivers side, slipping his phone back into his pocket. With Nick not home, it will only be him and Linda and after the day he's had, he just doesn't have the energy. Glancing over at Grey House, he notices her car is in the only one in the drive.
He cuts through the grass, circling to the door off of the kitchen. He spies her chopping vegetables at the island and her gaze is already turning towards him as he lets himself in.
"Hi," she greets with a smile.
"Hi," he greets back. Whatever she's cooking fills his nostrils and he inhales deeply. "It smells amazing in here."
She gestures to the stove. "I've got a roast in the oven, though it seems a bit of a waste now." He comes to stand next to her at the island.
"Grace is at Courtney's with Nick," he deduces. She nods. "And Abigail's out on a date and George is out with his bowling buddies."
"Grey House all to yourself."
"A rarity, I know," she echos his own words.
He smiles, looking over the vegetables she's got laid out in front of her. "Want some help?" Surveying what's left, she slides the carrots towards him. "Think you can handle those carrots?"
He chuckles at the amusement in her eyes, recalling an earlier time he was delegated to peel carrots in his smoke filled kitchen. He goes to the sink to wash his hands before unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves. "Carrots? I'm a pro."
She offers him the peeler, and he take it from her, getting to work. "How was the rest of your day?" She questions casually.
He tries his best to glide the peeler as smoothly as he can over the carrot in spite of the slight tremor in his hands. "Well...after you left, I attempted to power through some more paperwork."
"Didn't go as planned?"
"I managed to see to what needed my immediate attention...the rest..."
"Will get done when you're ready," she encourages gently. "Be gentle with yourself, Sam." He stills, looking over at her. "...I don't know how to do that."
She continues chopping potatoes. "That voice in your head? Start with telling it to be quiet." He smiles a little. "That easy, huh?"
"Not really," she answers truthfully. "It takes practice and time...the last few days, there's been a little voice in my head telling me that I'm never going to get those memories back. Every day I have to tell it to be quiet...some days are easier than others, but I keep trying."
He looks down at the peeler in his hand and the way in which his hand trembles. She reaches over, covering her hand over his. "Tell it to be quiet."
He can feel his throat tighten and he inhales deeply through his nose, exhaling through his mouth.
She gathers the chopped potatoes, dumping them into a waiting roaster, moving on to the peas. "What about you?" He questions. "How was the rest of your day?"
She takes a minute to think about it. "After I left your office, I went back to the Bell Book to help with the new inventory...Tara has been doing such a great job running my shop."
"But?"
She smiles. "I'm ready to get back to work. I just have to figure out how to tell Tara."
He senses what she's not saying. "And Brandon," he adds.
Her hands still, looking over at him. "He's lost so much already."
"He hasn't lost you, Cassie," he points out. "You going back to work isn't going to change that."
Sighing, she returns to snapping peas. "You're right."
"Easier said than done, though," he adds.
She laughs a little. "Well, it looks like we've both got something to work on for tomorrow, doesn't it?"
"I guess so."
She's done snapping peas and she moves to the oven to check on the roast. "Stay for dinner?" "I don't know, Cassie...Linda's been a thorn in my side all day-"
Sliding the roast back into the oven, she brushes her bangs out of her eyes. "-it's a good thing I didn't invite her, then," she replies.
There's a bit of mischief in her eyes and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. "I'd love to."
...
Linda fills her empty wine class, finishing off the bottle. She's annoyed.
Nick hasn't returned her texts or calls, and although Sam's car is in the driveway, he's not home. And it doesn't take a genius to know that he's next door.
With her.
She sips her wine.
Whatever it is that's going on between them won't last. She know's her ex-husband: small town living with small town woman are not his thing. The man also has the emotional rang of an adolescent boy, so there's that.
Sliding off the stool, she saunters through the house, heading down the hall. The door to his office is ajar and she doesn't give it a second thought. It's immaculately kept, but then again, she doesn't expect anything less from Sam: everything has a place.
God forbid anything be out of place.
Sipping her wine, she peruses the books on his shelf, taking out ones and inserting them back at random. Circling his desk, she fans out the files carefully stacked on top. They're all patient files and she has enough decency to leave them alone.
She makes herself comfortable in his chair, swivelling back and forth, sipping her wine.
"What the hell," she says to herself, setting her glass down. She starts with the side doors and only finds more files meticulously filed away and some office supplies. The draw underneath the desk top proves more fruitful.
There's a handful of prescription bottles and she reads the labels while fishing her phone out of her pocket. She snaps a picture of the labels for further investigation, deciding to read through his planner for the hell of it.
"Who's Adam, Sam?" She questions. "...he's in here an awful lot..."
Finishing her glass, she returns everything back to order, leaving the door ajar just as he had left it.
...
"That was delicious, Cassie."
She pours them both another glass of sparkling cider. "The company was pretty good too."
His gaze softens in that way she's seen so many times before and she's relieved. It had all felt so familiar, so right. Like how she remembers.
"Let me help you clean up."
He goes to clear the table, and she takes his hand instead. "Sit with me out back for awhile?...the dishes can wait."
"Sure."
Grabbing their glasses, she leads him out back. The sun has long since set and there's a slight chill to the air.
"This wasn't here before, was it?" He questions, gesturing to the swing that overlooks the garden.
"George has been busy the past few days," she answers. "What do you think?" His hand still intwined with hers, she leads him over to it, sitting.
He examines the wooden frame. "Did he build this himself? It's beautiful."
She curls her legs beneath her and his arm casually drapes over her knees. "He did...it is, isn't it?"
His gaze turns to settle on hers. "Pales in comparison."
His eyes have settled into the calmest of blues and she takes a second to just get lost in them. "Are you trying to sweep me off my feet, Dr. Radford?" She questions softly.
He leans in a little bit. "Depends."
Her gaze dips to his lips quickly. "On what?" "Is it working?"
"Depends," she echos back.
He smiles a little. "On what?"
"Whether or not you're going to kiss me."
He reaches out to brush the back of his hand down her check. "That so?"
She nods, her breath hitching in her throat. He leans in, pressing his lips to hers gently. It's tender and the warmth flourishes inside of her. Reaching for him, she places a hand on his chest, sliding up to cup the nape of his neck. His mouth opens the same time hers does and the warmth of his tongue sends tingles down her spine.
She's the first to pull back, rubbing her nose gently with his.
"So?" He questions.
She sifts her fingers through his hair, before moving to rest against his shoulder. "It's working," she admits softly. She can feel her words steady him and she twines her fingers with his that are on her thigh.
His lips press to the top of her head and he gives the swing a gentle rock with his feet.
Tbc
would love to hear from you!
