13
She's aware that he's awake next to her as his fingers trace a continuous loop from the small of her back to her shoulder. As much as she wants to drift off back to sleep, she can sense the change in him: he's distracted.
Nuzzling into his neck, she draws closer to him. "Want to talk about it?" She whispers.
His fingers still and his chest rises and falls deeply.
She waits.
"…I misdiagnosed a patient….I thought it was just a broken wrist but I missed it. I missed the fracture in his growth plate and now I have to send a 4 year old into major surgery…..the emergency room is chaos and the nurses are over worked and I can't find the solution." He exhales and it's a minute before he continues. "….and I'm probably going to lose my job as chief of staff at Hillcrest."
Pulling back, she sits up to meet his gaze. "What?"
He shrugs, rubbing his eyes. "I couldn't convince Amy to stay-"
"-they can't fire you over that-"
"-Yes they can," he interjects. "I've been doing a pretty lousy job as of late."
She sits with her back to him, the sheet tucked to her front.
It's happening again.
It always starts this way.
The people in her life, their lives start to unravel. They're little things at first, inconveniences. Those little things turn into big things. They always turn into big things.
Her parents.
Jake.
Ryan managed to escape relatively unscathed but his career was put into jeopardy.
And now Sam.
She can't do this to him.
The bed dips and he's sitting next to her. His hand slides up the bare expanse of her back and what she wouldn't give to just fall back into bed with him and forget everything going on outside of these four walls.
"Don't tell me this isn't my fault, please," she says softly. "Because it is. It always is." Before he can question her, she slides out of the bed, grabbing his tshirt on the floor slipping it on.
"What does that even mean?" He questions.
She doesn't respond, heading to the bathroom closing the door behind her.
. . . . . . . . . .
"I'm starving; I hope they have more than just cereal." Nick follows Grace into the elevator, slapping the button that will take them down to the dining area.
"I thought you'd be used to cereal," Grace teases.
He shakes his head as she laughs beside him. "It's the breakfast of champs," he defends. "but even champs want eggs and bacon every now and then."
The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open. "If you say so," Grace comments.
The dining area is relatively empty and Nick spies the waffle machine before they've even turned the corner. "Yes!" He exclaims. "A waffle maker!" He knows Grace is rolling her eyes beside him, but he doesn't care. He's been dying for waffles for weeks now. As he pours the batter into the iron, Grace helps herself to some fruit and yogurt before heading towards the coffee. "Can you get me some too?"
Grace gives him a look, but grabs an extra mug for him. "Do you think our parents will be down anytime soon?"
The wait for the iron seems forever, and he taps the counter impatiently. "I wouldn't count on it; it's the first time they've actually been alone for more than a few hours at a time."
"For how many chairs," She points out dryly. "And I did not need that idea in my head!"
Nick laughs, the red light flashing on the iron. Scooping his waffle on a plate, he loads it up with butter and syrup before following Grace to an empty table. "Well I meant that they didn't have to worry about guests and patients and kids and probably are enjoying the extra sleep, but since your mind went there…"
Grace tosses a strawberry at him and he laughs, dodging it. "Change the subject please before I die of embarrassment!"
He takes a large bite of his waffle, grinning at her as he catches Cassie coming off the elevator. His dad isn't with her, and he nods towards her. "No pillow talk I guess."
Grace looks over her should, and in seeing her Mom, blushes harder than he thinks he's ever seen her blush. He bursts into laughter, and Grace reaches across the table to smack him in the arm.
"Everything ok?" Cassie questions as she approaches their table.
"Just peachy," Grace answers, retreating to her yogurt.
He's still grinning and he greets Cassie good morning. "How'd you sleep?"
"Very well, thank you for asking," she answers. "Do they have anything good?"
"A waffle maker." He points over to the counter. "Not as big as the one at Grey House, but still good."
Cassie smiles. "Sounds good."
As she makes her way over to the breakfast bar, Grace kicks him under the table. "Ow! What was that for?!"
"Just because!"
He catches his father coming off the elevator and he can tell that something's off; he hesitates a minute before making his way into the dinning area. He stops to grab a coffee before joining them at their table.
"Morning," he greats.
Cassie joins them, and it's pretty obvious to him that something's different between the two of them.
"Morning," his father greets back, taking a sip of his coffee. "How'd you two sleep?"
"Nick snores. Like a freight train," Grace comments.
Nick shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "I'm not that loud."
Grace shakes her head, sipping her coffee. "Yes you are."
"Well, now that the guest room is free, you can sleep there when we get back then."
"I think we're going to go back to Grey House," Cassie announces.
The table goes silent and he looks to his Dad. There's surprise on his face and it's pretty clear he didn't know about this decision.
"We are?" Grace questions. "What about the giant whole in our front window? What about Wells?"
"I spoke with George this morning and the window has been fixed-" Cassie explains.
"-So being sitting ducks for a madman is alright?" Grace questions angrily.
"Grace," his dad cautions gently.
Cassie continues. "Derek assured me that we'll be safe there. I'm not going to let him scare me from my own home."
The table is silent, and Nick looks to his dad expecting him to say something, only he doesn't.
"I'm going to go finish packing." Gathering her plate, Cassie excuses herself, leaving the dining area.
"Dad, you're seriously not going to let them go back to Grey House, are you?" He questions immediately. He looks over at Grace who quickly wipes the tears from her eyes. "It's not safe there!"
His father exhales, rubbing his jaw.
"Dad!" He prompts. "Do something!"
Sam raises a hand, gesturing for him to calm down. "I'll see what I can do."
. . . . . . .
She hears the door click closed first, before she sees him in her periphery. She doesn't acknowledge him knowing that it will bother him.
He's told her enough about his arguments with Linda that she knows what buttons to press.
"Can we talk about this?" Sam questions.
She continues to pack her bag, keeping her back to him. "About what?" She can practically hear his teeth grinding and she can feel the tears prick the back of her eyes.
"About you and Grace going back to Grey House."
Abandoning her suitcase, she walks past him heading for the bathroom. "There's nothing to discuss." There's a moment of silence where he's routed to his spot and his hands go to hips.
He's waging what to do next.
She remains silent, gathering up the few things that have managed to accumulate on the bathroom counter. He's there in the doorway and out of the corner of her eye, she notices that his hands are deliberately in his pockets. Crossing his arms had been a natural response for him, a way to guard himself, to avoid being vulnerable.
Her throat tightens as she focuses on gathering her toiletries.
"It's not safe there-"
His voice is even, steady and it undoes her a little more. "-Grey house is my home, Sam," she cuts off. Brushing past him again, she heads back to her suitcase.
"Grace doesn't feel safe there, Cassie," he implores.
Her heart aches and she quickly wipes away the tears that have welled in her eyes. "….she can stay with Brandon and Tara-"
"-She can stay with me," he sighs. "You both can. Cassie, don't do this."
Her hands still.
She can't hurt him.
Not like the others.
"We shouldn't have done this….any of it," she replies softly. "This was a mistake." She can feel the air shift between them, the magnitude her words have had on him. "…I shouldn't have rushed into this, I've worked so hard to stand on my own two feet and my life was…." Her voice catches in her throat and he capitalizes on her minute of hesitation, crossing the room to stand beside her. His chest is at her shoulder and she dips her head, avoiding his gaze.
"Mistake?"
His voice is filled with so much hurt that she fumbles with her suitcase, tugging the zipper closed.
Her hands are shaking with the sob she's trapped inside of her.
The suitcase thuds to the floor as she tugs it behind her, creating the much needed space between them. "I'll wait downstairs," she manages to choke out, before leaving the room.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Nick's gaze is expectant as he steps off the elevator and he focuses on getting to the front desk to check out. The concierge slides the paper work across the counter and he's on auto pilot, signing and returning their keys.
She's waiting by the doors, her back to him and all he wants is to have her back upstairs, the way the were last night.
Together.
Mistake.
The word stings.
He had gone back and forth more times than he can remember in the past about whether or not exploring a relationship with her was worth loosing her all together. He had always told himself that they answer would be yes, but now he's not so sure.
Thanking the concierge, he gathers his bag, gesturing for Nick and Grace to the same. Neither of them say anything as they head out into the parking lot. She's got her own suitcase in her hand, and when he comes beside her, he takes hold of the handles. Their hands brush and her grip is tight.
It's a standoff for a split second, but her grip loosens allowing him to take the suitcase from her.
. . . . . . . . . .
Picking the lock to Grey House is terribly easy.
That's the thing about small towns: old houses and too much trust.
He hasn't seen any of the Merriwicks around town, and her shop has been in darkness since he had decided to redecorate it. Their absence has given some time to plan his next steps.
The bed and breakfast is quiet, surprisingly. After he threw that brick through the front window, he anticipated several officers patrolling the house and street.
Making his way to the kitchen, he finds a vase filling it with water. He has finally found the flowers. He takes more care than necessary to arrange them on the table, before he makes his way throughout the rest of the house.
From his pocket he produces a small vial of oil. If he's lucky, it will have the same affect as the flowers.
Carefully, he shakes a few drops into every candle he finds before heading upstairs. Her bedroom isn't hard to find. There's more candles and he shakes several drops into them. There's lotion and perfumes left on the night stand, and he adds a few drops in each for good measure.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Sam bypasses Grey house, pulling into his own driveway instead. As he parks, the car is deathly silent.
"Well?" Nick prompts.
"Thank you, for the weekend away," Cassie says softly. "…you both have been incredibly supportive, and I know Grace and I are so fortunate to have neighbours like you both in our lives."
He steels a glance at his son in the review mirror and the confusion is clear in his eyes.
"Cassie- you can stay with us," Nick implores.
Cassie smiles, reaching back to take his hand. "Thank you for the offer. I need to be at Grey house right now."
Opening her door, she slides out heading to the trunk to gather her bag. Grace follows, and Nick is sliding into the middle seat, glaring at him.
"What did you do? What did you say?" He demands.
"What?"
"How did you mess this up?" Nick questions angrily. "I told you! I asked you not to mess this up!"
Tears have welled in his son's eyes, and Sam turns in his seat more fully. "Nick-"
"-this was the one thing that felt right since moving here! And you've ruined it!"
The trunk opens and Cassie and Grace's conversations filters into the car, silencing them both.
"Mom, you can't be serious!" Grace demands. "Wells is still out there!"
"Derek and Brandon have assured me that we will be safe," she reasons, grabbing her bag from the trunk.
Grace tugs hers out, reaching up to close the trunk. The door slams shut, and Nick opens his door, slamming it behind him.
He sits for a minute, exhaling.
He watches Cassie as she makes her way over to Grey House. Nick grabs Grace's bag, heading inside his own house.
What has he done?
tbc