2
Before we examine and dissect what happened yesterday, why don't we take a beat and try to enjoy what happened yesterday."
She wakes, remnants of the distinct blue of his eyes, the smile on his face settling warmly inside of her.
Sam.
He's been on her mind more than usual the past few days.
Ever since the lake house.
Rubbing her forehead, she sighs.
It's been before then.
The way he challenges her. His passion for medicine. The way he weaves his fingers through hers automatically, perfectly. Their talks and the way he listens, truly listens. She's almost certain if Ryan hadn't showed up that night at her store, she would have kissed him. He's kind, and funny, and he adores her daughter.
In her head she understands why he wasn't able to meet her at the ferris wheel. She can't imagine the guilt and pain he's feeling. Her heart, on the other hand, is still disappointed. She had imagined them floating to the top, stoping there overtop of all of Middleton, just the two of them.
No ex-wives. No husbands. No kids. No patients, guests or customers. No should we's or shouldn't we's because they'd be there, together.
Rolling over, she stares at the ceiling.
She's not thinking of Jake, and a pang of guilt settles inside of her chest. What she shared with Jake was magical in every way. In many ways he had given her the home she had been searching for her entire life. He gave her Brandon and Lori. Grace.
She never thought she'd feel this way again.
Magical.
The tears well in her eyes, and she catches them before they have the chance to trickle down her face. "What should I do, Jake?" She questions softly.
She knows the answer even before the words leave her lips. She's always known.
Be happy, Cass.
She can feel him there with her, and she closes her eyes, letting his presence alleviate her guilt.
She woke up thinking of Sam.
The smile spreads slowly across her face.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
The coffee machine, he feels, is taking an extraordinarily long time to brew. It may be due to his impatience this morning.
All he can seem to think about is her.
The look in her eyes when he left Grey House last night.
He exhales, rubbing his jaw. It's been a long time since he's felt this way.
If he's ever felt this way.
He's unsettled. Impatient. He's talked himself out of just going over to Grey House at least a half dozen times since he's woken up.
Give her space. Time.
There's a reason why things didn't seem to work out with Ryan or John. What makes him think that things would somehow be different with him?
He can't help but think about how different things may have been if he had kissed her then, that night in her shop. He can't pinpoint exactly when things changed for him, but he can distinctly remember just looking at her and realizing something.
He's still trying to figure out exactly what that something is.
At the lake house, he was afraid of loosing her. It was the Maldives and he could see the excitement in her eyes, even when she spoke of her misgivings. The mere thought of Middleton without her, his life without her, didn't sit well with him. The idea of her spending all that time with John damn near drove him crazy. At the time he knew she wasn't looking for anything more, but he knew John's reputation: he wanted more.
She joined him at the lake house and they ended up hiking around the property. It was cold and snowy but her smile, the colour that filled her cheeks from the cold air; he would have hiked ten miles if it meant being in the presence of her glow. And then they were discussing paint and talking about the dig and the only thing he could concentrate on was how much he needed her.
If you're not taking chances, then you're not really living life.
He had been waiting for that opportunity to present itself since he had taken her horseback riding and it felt like time was running out. He kissed her then and he's thought of that kiss what feels like day and night since.
She kissed him back and that has to mean something.
The doorbell rings, and he glances at his watch, curious to who would be up this early other than him. As he makes his way down the hallway, he contemplates heading over the Grey House. He needs to talk to her. See her. Opening the door, it takes him a minute to register that she's standing on the other side.
"Cassie," he greets.
"Morning," she greets with a smile. "I was wondering if we could talk?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Can I come in?"
He laughs, shaking his head at himself. "Yes, of course. Come in."
She side steps him inside, and he closes the door behind them following her into the kitchen. The urgency in which he had to see her dissipates to only be replaced with words he's not sure he has right now, words he's sure he's hasn't used in a very long time, if at all.
"I wanted to finish our conversation…from last night," she begins.
He circles the counter to face her. She's got her fingers twisted together and her gaze is a little apprehensive as if gauging his response.
"I don't know if there's anything more to say, Cassie," He responds. "….when I first moved to Middleton, I had no idea what I was doing….I don't know what I would have done without you and your friendship….it means the world to me and I know there's this thing between us…this thing that…" Her eyes gaze back at him expectantly and he let's his voice trail off.
She makes him smile more than he can ever remember. Makes him want to share what he's feeling. Makes him just want to be better. She means more to him than he fully understands at the moment and if it comes down to loosing her or remaining friends, he's not sure if he can live with either.
"…If you're still waking up, thinking of Jake-"
"-Sam the only one I'm thinking about is you," she admits softly.
Everything inside of him stands still.
"I woke up this morning thinking about you. About us," she continues. "And how you've brought so much to my life. Jake will always be a part of my journey….What I want more than anything is to see where this journey goes with us."
"I want that too," he confesses.
"I don't want to loose what we have right now, either."
Silence settles between them and he knows that leap of faith is right in front of them. She's worried about what could happen and hell if he's not worried about the same thing. "….I don't know if I can be just friends anymore, Cassie."
"Sam," she sighs.
Inhaling deeply, he takes the leap. "I'm ready to take that leap of faith because you….you're who I wake up every morning thinking about."
She's closing the space between them, mating her lips to his. His heart nearly leaps out of his chest and he kisses her back gently. "Take the leap with me," He breathes against her lips.
"Yes," she breathes back.
"Cassie," he sighs. He feels like he's floating and electrified all at once. Like her light and goodness are coursing through him, intoxicating him. She falls into him, her hands framing his face in a tender embrace. He's got one hand around her waist, the other in her hair and he feels almost lightheaded.
Their kiss at the lake house had been spontaneous and tentative. Unsure. This is entirely different. There's a sureness in her lips, a wanting in how she leans into him that he thought for a long time, was in every way, one sided.
"Are you two going to come up for air anytime soon?"
She quickly pulls back abruptly, and it takes him a minute to register Nick standing in the doorway. She' blushing beside him and he turns towards his son who is trying to hide his grin. "Good morning."
Nick attempts to swallow his smile, too little avail, sitting at the breakfast bar. "Morning," he greets back.
She takes a step back and so does he, straightening his tie.
"Are you going to work today?" Nick questions.
Despite the space between them, there's a buzz of electricity that's simmering between them. It takes a great deal of restraint to not reach for her, tether himself to her somehow. "Yeah. There are some patients I need to see, but I shouldn't be too long."
"I should let you go then," she says softly.
"I'll walk you out."
"Bye Cassie," Nick smiles.
Cassie smiles back at him, laughing a little. "Goodbye, Nick."
As she heads out of the kitchen, he gives his son a look but he only grins back at him.
"I'm sorry about that," he sighs, laughing a little.
"Don't be. We weren't exactly discreet."
He stops her short of the door, taking her hands into his. The electricity slides up his arms, settling inside of him. "What are you doing later?"
"I have some inventory at the shop that needs to be taken care of, but other than that…."
"Let me make up for the ferris wheel."
Her eyes light up, and she bites her lip briefly. "What did you have in mind?"
"Dinner. Just the two of us."
Reaching for the door, she opens it, taking a step outside. "I'd like that."
"I'll pick you up. Around 7?"
"Sounds perfect."
Their hands are still twined together, and he rubs the back of her hand with his thumb.
She holds his gaze for a minute, before stepping towards him, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. "I'll see you later."
"See you later," he agrees, catching her kiss. He finally lets go of her hand, watching her as she heads back over to Grey House. He takes a minute to gather himself and his thoughts and everything that just happened between them. A leap had been taken and he's more than sure in his decision to do this with her. More sure than he thinks he's ever been in his life. A smile is etched on his face, and as he heads back to the kitchen, he's met with Nick's grin.
"Nothing more to say, huh?" Nick questions, echoing his fathers words.
"There might be a little more to say," he concedes, sliding onto a stool beside him. Steepling his hands together, he rubs his lower lip with his thumb. "I'm not sure when it happened, but Cassie means….she means a lot to me, Nick."
"I kinda got that idea….earlier," he jokes.
He laughs, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry you had to walk in on that."
"It's alright."
He looks over at his son. "Is it?….your mother and I haven't been divorced that long-"
"-You're different when Cassie's around."
He ponders his sons words. "Is that a good thing?"
Nick nods. "She makes you happy, Dad."
"Yeah, she does."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"That's a look I haven't seen in awhile," Abigail muses.
Hanging up her coat, she can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of her lips. She certainly hasn't felt this way in a long time.
He wakes up thinking of her.
She suspected his feelings weeks ago, even when it seemed like he hadn't quite figured them out yet. There has always been something there but the universe had a way of waylaying them both, first with Ryan and then Linda, their latest hurtle in the charismatic archeologist, John Dover. Her relationship with John bothered Sam, but it was the nudge he needed to open up to her.
It was the nudge she needed too.
She avoids hr cousins gaze, feigning innocence. "I'm not sure what you mean."
Abigail follows her into the kitchen. "Have you told Grace?"
"Told me what?"
Her steps falter for half a second, before continuing towards the stove, grabbing the tea pot. She quickly glances at Abigail who gives her a look.
"About the Merriwick exhibit," Abigail covers.
"We're actually doing it?" Grace asks excitedly.
Telling Grace.
She hasn't thought that far ahead, having only just reconciled her own feelings about Sam. "We Merriwick woman have a deep history here in Middleton," she reasons, filling the tea pot with water.
"One that's been long overlooked," Abigail adds.
"This is so cool," Grace replies in awe. "What can I do to help?"
Setting the pot on the stove, she turns to face her daughter. "Well, you could start by having a look in the old trunks in the attic. You never know what pieces of history you'll find up there."
"I'm on it!''
When it's just the two of them, Abigail turns to her. "Information like this has a way of spreading in a small town; you wouldn't want her to find out through someone else."
Her cousin, she knows, is right, but it's finding the right words to tell Grace that is proving to be a challenge. "I'm not exactly sure what to say to her," she confesses.
"I'm sure you'll find the right words," Abigail reassures.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Taking a deep breath, he centres himself, concentrating on the incantation and its energy. The incense and oils fill the room, and he breathes in deeply, letting the tingly, bitter smell fill his lungs.
"With this charm, set forth the power to hide my true intentions. When they look upon me, let them only see the good and not the evil in my heart. Let my presence debilitate their mind, body and soul, confuse and beguile them. Therein, keep my soul and thoughts secret so I may bring the Merriwick women down."
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Grace! Are you up here?"
"Over here!" She calls back.
Stepping over boxes and avoiding the stacks of furniture, Nick finds her sitting crossed legged on the floor, pouring over old photo albums. "What are you doing up here?"
"The Merriwick woman are going to be honoured at this years Historic Middle exhibit at the Museum. I'm just looking through these old boxes for items for the the exhibit."
He joins her on the floor. "That's pretty cool." Looking over her shoulder he laughs at the photos, in particular, the chunky baby he knows is Grace. "Is that you?"
"Wasn't I just the cutest baby?" She gushes.
"Chunky, maybe," he teases. She hits him in the arm, and he laughs. "I'm joking! You were adorable."
She gives him a look. "Nice save."
Pulling an album out of the box she's got on the floor in front her, Nick flips through it. "Wow. These are really old."
"Right?….look at that one." She points to a photo in his album of a women dressed in an extravagant gown. "That's Elizabeth Merriwick."
Nick looks at it more closely. If Grace hadn't told him otherwise, he would have sworn it was Cassie. "She looks like your mom."
"She does, doesn't she?"
He looks over at the album in her hands, and she's turned the page to reveal her parents wedding photos. "Is that your Dad?"
She looks down at the photo of her parents on their wedding day. "Yeah."
He picks up on the longing in her voice. "You miss him."
"Every day," she says softly.
"What was he like?"
Grace smiles. "He was the greatest. When I was younger he would bring me a yellow daisy….and he would say 'Grace, the only thing brighter than this flower, is your smile, so let's see it'…no matter how sad I was, it always worked."
"How old were you when he died?"
"11."
He can't imagine loosing a parent that young. His parents never seemed to get along, and the divorce was hard on him, but at least he still had them both. "I'm sorry, Grace."
She exhales, trying to smile. "Me too….I can't help but wonder what life would be like if he was still alive today."
"I probably wouldn't have walked in on your Mom and my Dad kissing this morning," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
"What?"
She didn't see the humor in his joke and the look on her face tells him she didn't know about their parents relationship. "You don't know."
"Know what exactly?!" She questions.
"I think there's something going on between them….my Dad bought tickets for the ferris wheel and asked your Mom to go with him. She didn't tell you?"
She can feel the heat rising in her face and she rises to her feet, wiping off her jeans. "They're just friends," she reasons.
Nick gets to his feet, returning the photo album to the box. "I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure friends don't kiss the way they did this morning."
Tears sting her eyes and she quickly wipes them away. Hurt doesn't even accurately describe what she's feeling in the moment, and she tosses the photo album recklessly into the box, leaving the attic.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"Plenty of rest and hydration, and you should be as good as new in a few days."
"Good as new, eh doc?" His elderly patient jokes. "At my age, I'll take it!"
He laughs, holding the door open for him in the exam room, following him out into reception area. "We'd all be so lucky to be as spry at your age, Mr. Johnson."
"I'll tell you the secret to my success."
They stop at the reception desk, and Sam listens intently.
"Find yourself a partner. Notice how I didn't say woman?" Mr. Johnson shakes his head. "Any man can find a woman, when what you really need is a [I]partner[/I], someone who challenges you, makes you laugh. Someone who drives you crazy."
Eve giggles from her desk.
"You find a partner, and well, your life will be golden," he advises.
Sam leans against the reception desk, pondering his words. "That simple, huh?"
"Simple!" The elderly man scoffs. "It will be the hardest thing you'll do in your life, doc. Once you've found her though, never let her go!" He's already heading for the door, and Eve calls after him.
"Hope you feel better soon, Mr. Johnson!"
Mr. Johnson waves in response, leaving the office with a little more spring in his step.
"He's so funny," Eve muses. "Did you know he and his wife have been married for fifty years?"
"Fifty years?" He echos in surprise. He and Linda barely made it ten, and even then, it was a challenge. "What's next?"
Eve brings up his schedule on her computer. "You have a half hour break, and then Mrs. Lawson is in for a follow up with her stitches."
He strums the counter, nodding. "Perfect. I have some calls to make. Let me know when Mrs. Lawson arrives."
"Will do! Oh, Cassie dropped this off for you!" She sets a container on the counter in front of him. "Corn Chowder!"
The smile is there and he immediately regrets not seeing her. "When was she by?"
"When you were in with Bobby Burke."
He sighs, remembering. The toddler screamed during his entire check-up; it was a wonder he could hear anything during the appointment. "Next time, let me know she's here-"
"-oh, she didn't want to interrupt you-"
"-I don't mind."
A smile spreads across Eve's face. "Is that a standing order, Dr. Radford?"
He can practically see the wheels turning in Eve's head and normally her chatty nature would be cause for concern with this kind of information. Only he doesn't want to keep this a secret. Keep them a secret.
"Yes," he answers decisively.
Eve's gaze widens, and she promptly writes it down. "You've got it!"
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"I don't think the order of Himalayan Pink Salt came in," Tara comments, opening another box.
Her phone chirps from her pocket, and she fishes it out. "Did you check that box over there?"
Thank you for the Chowder.
She smiles, replying back.
You're welcome.
He's typing back and she waits, a little impatiently, for his message.
…would have loved to see you.
Tonight :)
His reply is instant and she smiles at the simple message.
Can't wait.
"Who are you texting?" Tara questions.
She's pulled from her revere, and she slide her phone back into her pocket. "Sam."
Tara's expression changes, surprise written on her face. "He's got you smiling from ear to ear."
She hadn't noticed, and she attempts to change the subject. "Did you find the salt?"
Picking a box up off the floor, Tara moves it over to the other spices. "Yep; right where you said it would be."
Nodding, she returns to unpacking the assortment of essential oils that had come in. She picks up familiar scents like lavender and camomile, placing them on the counter.
"You two seem to get along well," Tara comments.
"We do," she agrees. Her noise tingles at a particular smell and she glances at the labels, trying to figure out the source.
"Brandon was telling me that Sam bought tickets for the ferris wheel."
She knows what her daughter in law is looking for: confirmation of her relationship with Sam. Abandoning the oils, she looks over at Tara. "You want to know if he asked me to join him."
"Did he?" Tara questions excitedly.
"He did-"
"-Cassie!"
She attempts to quell her excitement. "We never rode the ferris wheel; Sam had an emergency at the hospital."
Tara's face falls. "Oh. Well that's disappointing."
"Sam was needed elsewhere," she reasons.
"So are you two, dating?"
She's not sure how to answer Tara's questions. Everything seems to be moving faster than she can wrap her head around: one minute she and Sam are neighbours, friends, and the next she's kissing him in the middle of his kitchen. "I think we're just….seeing where things go."
Tara gives her a supportive smile. "You look a little overwhelmed."
"Is it that obvious?" She laughs lightly. "I haven't done this in a long time."
Tara comes to stand beside her, leaning against the counter. "I'm sorry if I came across pushy-"
"-it's fine," she reassures. "Sam and I….we're not exactly trying to keep anything a secret."
"It's nice to see you this way. This happy."
"It's nice feeling this way. This happy," she admits.
. . . . . . . . . .
He rings the bell to Grey House, surprised at the nerves that have settled in the pit of his stomach. He inspects the flowers he had bought one last time just as the door opens in front of him.
"Sam," Grace greets flatly.
"Hi…can I come in?" He questions unsurely.
She steps out of the doorway, letting him in. "You show up with flowers now?"
"They're beautiful," Cassie comments, coming from the kitchen.
He's taken aback a little as she joins them in the foyer. She's wearing…it doesn't even matter what she's wearing because the look in her eyes causes his heart to skip a beat. "Beautiful," he repeats softly.
"It's true," Grace says, surprised. "Were you even going to ask how I felt about it?" She doesn't wait for her mothers response, taking off upstairs.
Her door slams minutes later, and Cassie winces, letting out a sigh.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes.
She shakes her head, accepting the flowers from him. "It's not your fault. Could you give me a minute?"
"Of course."
With flowers in hand, she heads upstairs after her daughter.
. . . . . . . . . . .
She knocks gently on Grace's door.
"I don't really want to talk right now," Grace answers, her voice shaky.
"I need to do the talking, honey."
It's a minute before Grace opens the door. Her tear stained face tears at her heart and the guilt settles like an anchor inside of her. Stepping inside of her room she rests the flowers on her desk, sitting tentatively beside her on the bed. She's aware of her daughters body language, the way she hugs a pillow to her chest, turns her body slightly away from her. "I should have told you," she begins softly.
"Why didn't you?" Grace questions angrily. "I had to hear from Nick about you two making out in his kitchen!"
She doesn't react to her daughters anger, taking a deep breath. "I didn't know how," she says truthfully. "I wasn't looking for these feelings, Grace. I never thought I'd feel this way again, especially after what your father and I shared."
"Were you even going to ask me how I felt about it?"
"Of course I was….how do you feel about it?"
Grace turns to look at her. "I don't know."
She nods, brushing the hair off her shoulder. "Let me know when you do?"
Grace shakes her head, rising from the bed. "You may not like my answer-"
"-it still matters to me-"
"-does it?" Grace questions quickly. "Because it seems like all of Middleton knew about you and Sam before I did. Your own daughter."
"You're right, and I'm sorry."
Tears well in Grace's eyes and she quickly wipes them away.
"Honey," she soothes. "If you feel this strongly, Sam and I-"
"-and be the reason why you're miserable? No thanks," she cuts off bitterly.
The room is charged with her daughters emotions, and despite the anger in her words, her fear permeates the very walls. "I'll give you some time think," she suggests, rising from the bed. "When you're ready to talk, I'll be downstairs-"
"-I don't want to talk. Go on your date-"
"-Grace-"
"-He brought you flowers!" She cries. "He's downstairs waiting and I don't want to talk!"
It's the end of the conversation and to push more, would only makes things worse. "Alright….Can I at least have a hug goodbye?"
"I'm not in a very giving mood," Grace replies softly.
Nodding, she catches one of her own tears. "I understand."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
He's waiting for her in the kitchen and to her surprise, he's made a pot of tea.
"I thought you could use this," he answers, pouring her a cup.
It's a gesture she's done for him countless times, and she's touched that he would reciprocate the sentiment. "Thank you."
"So, how'd it go with Grace?"
She tries to smile, reassure him, but can't. She takes a sip of her tea instead.
"That bad, huh?"
"She's upset with me."
"About us?" He questions.
She nods, tears filling her eyes. "She's scared, but it's easier for her to be angry right now. She misses her Dad so much."
"I've never known loss like that," he comments.
"It's the worst kind of pain imaginable," she says softly. "It was hard enough loosing Jake….but watching Brandon, Lori and Grace loose their father…". Tears fill her eyes, and she wipes them away. "…there's nothing worse then knowing that your child is in pain and no matter what you do, there's nothing you can do to fix it for them."
He looks down, and she knows what he's thinking, knows what he's going to say.
"Maybe we should't do this."
"Is that what you want?"
"Of course it's not what I want." Taking her hand, he leads her into the sitting room guiding her to the couch. There's a box of tissue on the coffee table and he offers it to her before taking her hand in his. "This isn't about what I want; it's about what's best for Grace. What's best for you."
She wipes her eyes, and he interlaces his fingers with hers. It's such a simple thing, and yet it's meant so much to her.
It's the simple things she's missed the most.
The happiness she had felt earlier in the day is quickly replaced with a sense of loss she's not sure she can live with. "I don't want to lose you, Sam."
"Cassie," he soothes, enveloping her into his arms. "I'm not going anywhere."
She soaks him in, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. Everything between them has happened so fast, so strongly and she'd be lying to herself if she said it all didn't terrify her a little but the alternative? She can't live with the alternative. She doesn't want the alternative. She doesn't want friendship anymore.
She wants more.
The strength in his embrace settles her and when she finally pulls back, his eyes are so full of concern, she can feel it coming off him.
"So this isn't going to be easy," he points out. "Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty."
"Roseveldt."
He nods. "You're not the only one that can quote great thinkers."
He manages to make her smile, and she reaches out, cupping his face.
"I don't know a lot about teenage girls, but if I've learned anything on this parenting journey it's that they always come around in the end."
"I hope so," she sighs.
Kissing her palm, he settles back into the couch. "You can talk to me, about this, anytime. I'm a pretty good listener."
"The best," she agrees. She settles back into the couch as well, angling her body towards his.
He reaches out, tucking a tendril of her hair behind her ear. "…you make everything look so effortless, Cassie…you don't have to be that way with me, especially about this."
She know's that's the perception she gives off. In the weeks after Jakes death it had been easier to just smile and let all of Middleton believe that she was okay, then allow them to see just how utterly heartbroken she was.
Leaning across the couch he plants a kiss to her forehead, and she settles into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Tell me about Jake," he asks softly.
She smiles through the ache in her chest, closing her eyes. "You would have liked him."
He kisses the top of her head. "I think so too."
tbc