Chapter Twenty

It had been a while since he had a day this hectic. First there was a meeting with the gallery accountant, then discussing inventories and future schedules, and in the middle of it all, endless phone calls and messages back and forth with Oliver about yet another setback on the Life benefit. When he saw Maureen and Libby enter the gallery, he couldn't believe how late it was.

"You look exhausted," said Maureen, shaking her head in dismay as he pecked her cheek. "Have you even eaten?"

"Not since breakfast," he found himself admitting, thinking how funny it was that now she was the one chiding him. She, on the other hand, looked radiant, even though he knew her days had been no short of mad since she'd started her new job. Although she was still worriedly skinny, she was slowly going back on the right track, much to his relief. "How was school, Libby?"

"It was okay. We're going to see dinosaurs next week!"

"That's amazing, you'll love the museum."

"And," Maureen interjected, "I met Scott," she singsonged, grinning mischievously at him.

"You never," he gasped. Scott had been a fixture in their home ever since Libby started school. He'd never seen the kid whenever he picked her up from school; honestly, he was beginning to fear he was an imaginary friend.

"Yup. And you'll never guess – "

"What have we here?" hollered Tammy, who had just appeared from the kitchen in the back. "Could it be my favorite Munchkin back from school already?"

Libby squealed in delight at the sight of Tammy, and rushed past him into her waiting arms. That was another revelation, how Tammy had taken to her so quickly despite her initial reservations. Watching the two of them interact was so incredible he'd often hoped he could just leave a camera next to them and let them do their thing. Already Tammy was given a much more detailed description of Libby's day at school than he just did. Pretty soon they settled on the floor by the counter, where Libby emptied the contents of her book bag, letting Tammy look at her library books. He rolled his eyes at Maureen, reached for her hand, and led her to his office in the back. It wasn't much, but it was their first moment alone in a while and beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Hi, you," he smiled at her after closing the door.

She smiled bashfully back, squeezing his hand which she still held. "Hi yourself."

"I miss you."

"I know. This is ridiculous. You'd think we'll see each other more now that..." Her voice trailed off as her phone buzzed in the depths of her bag.

"Here we go again," he mock-groaned as she murmured an apology and left his hand in search for her phone.

"It's not work," she said after glancing at the screen. There was a different sort of smile on her lips now. "You won't believe who I just met."

"Who?" he asked, sitting down by his desk. She typed a reply on her phone, then dropped it back inside her bag and came to sit on his lap without him having to ask.

"Benny."

"No way."

"Way. And that's not all." He listened to her tale with awe. Benny, Scott's dad, still in touch with Joanne? Maureen speaking of him so fondly? He pinched his thigh, then flinched.

"What are you doing?"

"Just wanted to make sure I wasn't daydreaming; this so surreal."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"The last I've seen of him was in Collins' funeral, but he never came near us. I think he was afraid Roger would lash out again. I've never seen him since."

"Funny how neither of us bumped into him on pick up times at school. It was nice seeing him. Weird, but nice."

"I sure hope I left a better impression than weird, but nice when we first met here," he teased her, squeezing her waist a bit. She squeaked and held on to his neck so she wouldn't fall off the chair.

"You know it's not the same," she countered, nuzzling his neck. "Besides, you were a bit of a jerk, it's lucky we even saw this through."

"Hey! I was... caught off-guard." How could he ever explain to her what it was like? That the person he had tried his damnest to shut out of his life for so many years was suddenly there? All those feelings rushing back with no control over them whatsoever?

Luckily, for the time being, he was off the hook. There was the echo of approaching footsteps, and then Tammy and Libby showed themselves in. Maureen ruffled his hair before climbing off his lap reluctantly. Tammy smiled at him angelically from over her shoulder.

"We should go," she said, hoisting her bag back on her shoulder. "Baby, have you got everything?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"I'll try to be home around seven. I need to sort out this Life thing, we might need to postpone the benefit again."

But when he was finally able to catch Oliver on the phone, it turned out the issue was resolved and a date was finally set, for mid-May. Everything was finally falling into place, he thought smiling as he let himself into the apartment.

"Hey guys, I'm home!" he called, dropping his messenger bag by the coat rack near the door. Libby rushed towards him, already in her pajamas, and he swept her up in a hug. "I told you I wouldn't be late for Story Time." It was his favorite time of day. He looked over Libby's shoulder, but there was still no sign of Maureen. "Maureen?"

"Mommy made you dinner," Libby informed him. This was odd. Usually she'd pop out just to say hi, even if she had something on the stove.

"Why don't you go pick a book for us to read, and I'll be right there?" he told Libby, slowly putting her down. He watched her disappear down the hall before he sighed wearily, then headed into the kitchen. And there was Maureen with her back to the entrance, staring at the darkness outside the window. She didn't seem to hear him come in, which he found strange but didn't think too much of. He wrapped his arms around her, laying his chin in the crook of her neck. "Hi, you."

Her body went rigid, and she was out of his grip before he could even register her movement. She murmured a hello, but she could barely meet his gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Your dinner is ready. I'm going to take a shower."

"My dinner? Aren't you..."

"I'm not hungry," she cut him off, and her tone was so curt he could hardly believe it was the same woman who was all smiles mere five hours before. There was something very cold and distant in her eyes.

"Maureen – "

"Mark!"

"I'm coming, sweetheart," he said softly, his eyes still on Maureen, who was stubbornly trying to look away. He lingered there a moment longer, hoping she would say something, but then left the kitchen with a sigh. He had no idea what could have happened for her to give him the silent treatment, but this was so reminiscent of their previous relationship that he felt compelled to put some distance between them. It may have been cowardly of him, but it was traumatic back then and he worked too hard on himself for him to fall back into it again.

He was amazed with himself for being able to read for Libby without missing a single word because his heart wasn't in any of it. His mind was working furiously trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with Maureen. He couldn't stand it when she was avoiding him like this, and so out of the blue. He'd associated such mood swings with the old version of her; he'd certainly not witnessed it since they met in the winter. There must have been something to trigger this. She seemed so happy earlier.

The apartment was very quiet when he finally left Libby's room. The bedroom door was shut, and as much as he wanted to walk in and clear this thing out, he shouldn't do it on an empty stomach. But he seemed to have lost his appetite. For the past three weeks they'd been making the effort to have dinner together. Sure, he returned so late tonight that it was already Libby's bedtime, but sitting alone like this just felt wrong. Besides, he was still wondering.

Finally, there was no putting it off any longer. He washed the dishes, made sure the door was locked, then with some trepidation headed towards the bedroom.

Maureen was sitting cross-legged in bed with what had become a fixture on her nightstand ever since she arrived. When he unpacked the last of the boxes in preparation of their arrival, he finally unearthed Collins' book, the one which had her postcard in it. Giving her the book had reduced her to tears, and she'd hardly parted with it since. Now she had it in her lap, but she lifted her eyes for just a second before bringing her attention back to it. But it seemed her attention was slippery as well, for she shut the book and gently put it back on the nightstand. He suspected that if it was any other object, she would have tossed it aside with a huff.

"I don't want to talk about it," she declared, pressing her knees to her chest.

"Don't want to talk about what? Will you at least tell me what the hell is wrong?"

She chuckled; the sound was bitter. "Oh, that's right. Because we tell each other everything, don't we?"

"I... used to think so," he replied slowly. There was certain mockery in her question, and now that he looked more closely, there was hurt in her eyes. The observation caught him somewhat off-guard because she never let anything get to her. What happened to have caused her such pain?

He sat down on the edge of the bed, careful that his knee wouldn't touch her foot. If she wanted to keep her distance, he would respect her wishes, no matter how much he wanted to pull her into his arms and put a stop to this. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong if you don't want to. But if I hurt you somehow... I want to be able to apologize, at least," he said gently.

He had braced himself for another snappish remark, but instead he was shocked to notice a tear rolling down her cheek. She wiped it off angrily. "I'm fine," she murmured, looking away from him.

"Like hell you are. Why are you pretending everything's okay when clearly – "

"Am I not doing it well enough, Mr. Superior Director? I must be losing my touch." She was crying openly now, nearly sobbing actually, and he just sat there helplessly, unsure what he'd done or how he could make it stop. "How dare you talk about pretending when you are the one – "

"What are you even talking ab – "

"Cut the crap, Mark, I found the papers."

"You found what pa – Oh." Shit. Oh, God. This was not how she was supposed to find out about him wanting to adopt Libby. No wonder she looked so wounded. But at least this he could fix. He hoped. "I wanted to tell you. I intended to tell you when I came over to visit you on Libby's birthday. It didn't really work out according to plan. I should have said something sooner, but..." His voice trailed off helplessly. He didn't even care that the fact she knew about the papers meant that from some reason, she looked through his stuff. He knew she would never invade his privacy that way on purpose. She must have had a reason to go into his study. And the papers were right there on his desk for weeks now. He should have told her before, but ever since they got there, he just never found the time.

The silence stretched, as if she was considering his explanation of sorts. Then she looked up at him, looking the most vulnerable ever seen her. "Just tell me one thing. Are you doing this because you actually want to, or because it will be the perfect way to get back at your mother? Are you trying to buy my daughter's love, like when you gave her that necklace you told me nothing about?"

"What? How can you ask me that? What does my mother have to do with this?"

"She has everything to do with this! Don't you realize how it looks like?"

She didn't know he was considering the adoption way before he was telling his mother any of it. In different circumstances she might have had a point, but didn't she know him? Didn't she trust him enough to know he'd never do that?

He reached out to touch her chin, making her face him. She tried to resist, but for once he was insistent. "Maureen, listen to me. I will never use Libby to get back at my mother. I want to adopt her because I love her, because I want to be her father as much as I want to be your husband. It has nothing to do with my mother." He hoped it sounded at truthful as it felt. She still looked skeptical, which frustrated him to no end. How could she think he could ever… Unless… "There's something else, isn't there? Something else is bothering you?" Her bottom lip began to quiver, but he wouldn't let her look away. Fresh tears filled her eyes. A sob escaped her as she finally nodded. He let go of her face and reached for a box of tissues. "Tell me," he pleaded.

"I spoke to your mother."

He just stared at her as the final piece of the puzzle finally fell into place. Because of course this was his mother's doing.

"She called here by accident and I thought I'd give her a piece of my mind. Not my finest moment," she said into a tissue before blowing her nose. He waited for her to pull herself together before wrapping his arms around her. She no longer tried to resist. Her still damp hair felt cold against his skin as she snuggled closer, all but burying her head in the crook of his neck as he slowly rubbed her back.

"What did she say to you?"

"Exactly what you said to you, apparently, only you never bothered to share it with me. If you did, at least I would have been prepared when she threw it all at me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. The accusation stung, but he felt as if he deserved every word. "I thought I was protecting you. I wasn't expecting her to call here and tell you all those things herself."

"I don't even know why I care. I shouldn't care. I knew how she felt, so it shouldn't come as a big surprise, but listening to her saying it…"

He hated that his mother had this effect on her, although Maureen was probably her perfect equal when it came to strength. He could only guess that his mother's attack included Libby somehow. It was the only reason he could think of for Maureen to appear so wrecked. And she was absolutely right. He should have warned her.

"I'm sorry. I know it's stupid to cry about it."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry I didn't tell you she knew about Libby. I didn't even mean to tell her, not until I could make her be reasonable about this."

"Yeah, I don't think she'll come around in our lifetime." Something close to a smile appeared on her lips. She reached out and ran a hand over his five o'clock shadow. "I know you'll never use Libby to get back at her. I don't know why I said it." Her tone was softer now; the storm had abated. "I'm sorry about before. You don't deserve any of it."

"It's fine. I get it." In a way Maureen was doing exactly what his mother thought she was doing, with him. But that was where the resemblance ended. "I don't want her to ever come between us. This is exactly what she wants."

"Well, we're just not going to let her." The determination in her expression was comfortingly familiar. He nodded his agreement. "That doesn't mean you're off the hook about the necklace, by the way."

He flinched guiltily. "Too much?"

"It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her," she admitted. "I just…"

He knew what scared her. "You know I'll never walk out on you. Not if I can help it."

"I know. If you ever hurt her, I'll hunt you down, no matter where you run off to."

He didn't even crack a smile. "If I ever hurt her, I'll deserve nothing less." He hesitated, then asked, "So now that the cat is out of the bag in the worst way imaginable… is this okay with you? The adoption?"

She nodded without hesitation; he breathed a sigh of relief. "With just one condition."

"What?"

"I don't want any more secrets. I'm done."

"No more secrets." He held her gaze, holding up his pinky. It made her giggle.

"You're such a dork," she said, giggling. She grabbed his hand and pulled him closer for a kiss.

Well, hers was definitely the better way to seal the vow.