...Something went wonky with my previous update; so here's a re-upload! Thanks everyone for catching it! Would love to hear from you (replies keep me motivated to write!)
17
"Hey!" Stephanie greets from behind the counter. "Late afternoon pick-me-up?"
She smiles, leaning against the empty counter. "Yes, please." She had felt fine that morning, but as the day slipped away from her, an unsettling feeling seemed to overcome her. "Something with ginger?"
Stephanie gives her a worried look as she prepares her tea. "Are you feeling ok? Should I call Sam?"
"Just a little tired," she reassures, just as a familiar presence engulfs her. "Better make it two." The bell above the Bistro chimes, and she turns to meet Abigail as she walks in. "Hey," she greets, welcoming her hug. "I've missed you," she confesses.
Abigail gives her a tight squeeze before pulling back. "I doubt that; Sam's not keeping you company?" She teases with a smirk.
"He's been great company." Stephanie slides the two cups of tea towards her, and she thanks her, offering one to her cousin.
Abigail grins at this, accepting the tea. "I'm glad...is there ginger in this?" She opens the lid to smell the aroma emanating from to-go cup.
"I had a feeling I wouldn't be the only one needing it today."
Taking a sip, Abigail links her arm with hers, leading her to a table. "So you feel it too, then?" She nods, letting the heat from her tea warm her hands; they've been cold all morning.
"It has to be Weld," Abigail reasons. "He has to be in Middleton."
As much as she didn't want to believe it, it had been the only reason that made sense.
"Are you worried?" Abigail questions.
"Yeah," she admits with a sigh. "I can't feel his intention, only his energy..."
"...which isn't exactly rainbows and sunshine." Abigail takes a sip of her tea, shaking off the heaviness that's settled between them. "Let's change the subject! Martha was telling me about the Merriwick exhibit; I can't wait to see it."
The Historical Middleton event has crept up on her quicker than she realized, only a few days away. "I got a sneak peak the other day and it's amazing." She recalls the photo of her great- grandmother. "Do you recall anything about our great-grandmother having a brother?"
Abigail shakes her head. "Not that I know of. Why?"
She leans back in her chair, pondering it. "I came across a photo of her with another man that wasn't her husband."
"A mystery man."
She smiles. "That's what Grace said."
Abigail checks her phone for the time. "I've got to get back to the shop...see you soon?"
"Of course," she reassures. "Stay safe." "You too."
...
There's a handful of customers in the Bell Book, but Cassie can't seem to focus on much else but Weld. She smiles welcomingly as they mingle throughout the shop but she can't muster to chat or offer her advice. Slipping her phone from under the counter, she sends a quick text to Grace just to check in. Her next text is to Sam.
Something doesn't feel right.
He doesn't respond right away which means he's probably with a patient.
Exhaling, she attempts to recenter herself.
"Hey...are you ok?" Tara questions, coming to stand on the other side of the counter.
"...I don't know," she answers truthfully. "I guess I'm not feeling like myself today."
Tara's expression grows worried. "Why do you call it a day, then? I can close up here."
"You don't mind?"
Tara shakes her head. "Not at all. Go home; get some rest."
She's sure to give her a grateful hug before gathering her things. Her phone buzzes from her pocket on her way out the door, and she reads the text from Sam.
Are you ok?...I'm with a patient right now.
She wants to hear his voice, feel his touch.
I'm ok...missing you. I'm heading home.
She slips her phone back into her pocket, heading for her car.
...
He had been more than worried since Cassie's text, and the minute his last patient left his office, he was out the door behind them. He's grateful that what little traffic there is in Middleton is slow, and he's able to make it home quicker than usual.
Letting himself in, he tosses his bag on the floor by the door, his keys in his pocket. He sheds his coat on he way to the kitchen, tossing it on an empty stool at the breakfast bar. She doesn't sense him coming, and when he runs his hands up her arms, she startles.
"It's just me," he soothes.
She turns into him and he's got her in his arms as she exhales. He breathes a little better too, and he takes a few minutes to just hold her.
"Something's wrong, Sam," she says softly. "I can feel it."
Cradling her to him, he presses his lips to the crown of her head. He catches the hitch in her voice, the subtle way her grip tightens on the back of his shirt. "Tell me what it feels like," he coaxes gently.
Pulling back, she shakes her head wiping her eyes. "I don't know how to explain it."
"I need you to try, Cassie...I can't fix this without your help."
Her gaze softens and she inhales deeply. "It's a heaviness inside of me...like something...or someone...has this hold on me."
He's not sure that he's understanding what she's trying to tell him, and his confusion must have crossed his face because she pulls away, moving to the living room. He follows, sitting on the coffee table in front of her.
"It's Weld," she says softly.
He's taken aback. "You think he's done something to you?" He's immediately running through possible narcotics that fit her symptoms.
"Not in the way you're thinking," she clarifies. "Then I don't understand," he admits.
She rises from the couch, putting space between them again. He sits for a minute before turning on the coffee table to face her. She's pacing a little and he's not sure he's ever seen her so restless.
"Not everything can be explained through Western medicine."
Her gaze settles on his and he recognizes that this will be defining moment in their relationship, just like it always has. "Ok," he responds encouragingly. Her relief is palpable and he's rising from the coffee table, reaching for her. "Ok," he reassures again. She melts into him and he holds her tightly. "What do you need me to do, Cassie?"
"He's here. In Middleton...I can feel it."
He's not going to question how she knows this. "I'll call Derek."
...
"There you two are," she greets from the kitchen, checking on the crumble she has in the oven.
Nick tosses his backpack on the couch, before joining her. "It smells amazing in here! What are you making?"
"Blueberry crumble," Grace answers, sliding onto a stool at the breakfast bar. Nick gives her a look. "Seriously?"
Cassie smiles, removing the oven mits from her hand, placing them on the counter. "It's blueberry crumble."
Nick shakes his head, checking his phone. "I'm going to figure out how you do that someday...is my dad around?" His phone chirps serval times in his hand before it starts ringing. Nick silences it, shoving it in his pocket.
"He's in his study...everything ok?" She questions.
"Everything's fine," he reassures, heading down the hall.
Grace waits until they hear the door open and close behind him before speaking. "His mom has been texting and calling him non-stop for the past 2 day...he wouldn't tell me why."
She nods, tending to the stew that's just about finished on the stove. "It might be best to give Nick some space to work things out with his parents."
Grace gives her a questioning look. "Do you know why his mom's calling incessantly?"
Anding a dash of thyme, she stirs the pot gently. Of course she knows, but telling her daughter that Sam's ex-wife is less than thrilled at their relationship is not going to fix anything right now. "Sometimes it's best to stay out of other people's stew."
"Is that your subtle way at saying, 'mind my own business'?"
Wiping her hands, she comes to lean across the counter from where her daughter sits. "Everyone has enough on their plate as it is; trust that Sam, Linda and Nick can work whatever it is out."
"If you say so," Grace comments skeptically. "...is there a reason why you're baking?"
She had hoped that her daughter hadn't noticed. While the heaviness has dissipated, she can't shake the worry she feels.
"Does it have something to do why you randomly texted me at school today?"
"I've got some things on my plate, that's all."
"Want to talk about it?" Grace offers.
She smiles, reaching across the counter to take her hands in her own. "Maybe later?" Grace nods, squeezing her hands. "I'm going to go start my homework."
...
Sam is so engrossed in the charts and medical files in front of him he hardly hears the knock on the door until Nick's head is peaking around it.
"Got a minute?"
"Yeah, of course," he closes the files in front of him, removing his glasses. "Everything ok?" Nick closes the door behind him, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "You be the judge."
He holds the phone out to him, and he takes it, scrolling through 37 text messages from Linda. Are you safe?
Are you hurt?
How long has your father been sleeping with her?
Is she staying at the house?
Has he stayed at her house? Nick, answer me please!
The phone starts ringing in his hand as he's scrolling, and Linda's face flashes across the screen. "Do you want me to answer it?"
Sinking into an armchair, Nick sighs. "Be my guest."
He accepts the call, placing the phone to his ear.
"Thank God! Are you alright? Nick don't ever scare me like that again!" She berates.
"Nick's fine," he answers. "A little exasperated, but fine."
"Sam? Where's Nick? Why do you have his phone? Put him on the phone NOW!"
He looks over at his son who is shaking his head. "He's busy at the moment, but I assure you, he's fine-"
"-Sam I'm not playing around-"
"-neither am I Linda," he inserts. "You've texted him 37 times! Did it ever occur to you that he was in school?"
"It takes 2 seconds to text back-"
"-keep this between us, Linda; don't put Nick in the middle of this."
"You effectively did that when you started sleeping with her!"
Nick's faces turns red and he looks anywhere but at him. "I'm going to hang up now. I'll also be turning off NIck's phone. If you wish to speak to him, call the house, after dinner-"
"-you can't do that!-"
"-Goodbye Linda." He hangs up, holding the power button until it powers off. He tosses it to him, and Nick catches it in his lap.
"She's going to call the house any minute."
He walks over to the landline that's in his office, turning the phone on to tie up the line. "Now she won't until after dinner."
Nick laughs. "That's so old school."
He leans against his desk, crossing his ankles. "Want to talk about it?"
"I'd rather you both just leave me out of it."
He's avoiding his gaze and he waits a minute before speaking. "Do you feel unsafe, having Cassie and Grace here?"
"No! Absolutely not, Dad, come on! How could you even ask me that!...I mean, Grace is a pain in the butt on a good day, but I love having her and Cassie here."
He nods. "OK...listen: if you want answer any of those questions your mother's asking you-"
"-it's none of her business, Dad-"
"-you can," he finishes. "I've got nothing to hide."
Nick's silent for a minute before the recognition crosses his face. "She's going to try to take me from you, isn't she?"
He chooses his words carefully. "You're mother is always going to do what she thinks is best for you-"
"-except what is actually best for me," Nick corrects, jumping from the armchair. He paces the room. "This is so messed up! I'm not leaving! I'm not leaving Middleton! I'm not leaving you!"
He's unraveling in front of him and Sam pushes away from the desk stopping Nick with his hands on his shoulders. "You're getting ahead of yourself-"
"-how can you be so calm right now?!" Nick interjects.
"Is that what I'm projecting?" He jokes.
Nick deflates a little, and his cell phone buzzes from his desk.
"The last thing I want to do is put you in the middle of a custody hearing. For now, I'm going to believe that your mother is reacting to what's going on in Middleton right now."
His phone continues to buzz across the desk.
"Once the MPD find Weld, your mother will be more apt to listen to reason." "You're hoping," Nick points out sarcastically.
He crosses his fingers, moving to his desk to grab his phone. The hospital's number flashes across his screen, and he's already answering it. "Dr. Radford..."
"Hello Dr...this is Jesse from the emergency room...look, I'm sorry to call you, especially when you're not on call-"
He shakes his head. "-it's fine. What have you got?" "Blunt force trauma."
"Vitals?"
"Stable, but the patients o2 levels are steadily dropping. X-rays show something lodged in the lung."
"I'm on my way." ...
Nick is first to emerge from the study, and Sam is a bit of a whirlwind as he gathers his scattered belongs around the house.
"Everything ok?" She asks.
"I've got to go to the hospital...a patient needs me...have you seen my keys?" He's sliding on his coat, looking through the dish on the end table in the hall.
"Check your left pocket."
Patting his left side, he pulls the keys from his pocket holding them up. "I'm probably headed for surgery, so I don't know what time I'll be back..."
Nick's found himself in front of the tv, seemingly used to the urgency in which his father is scrambling to get out the door. She's caught a little off guard, not sure what to do or say. "Ok...I hope everything turns out alright. Text when you can?"
He leans in for a kiss, and an overwhelming sense worry settles inside of her.
"I will," he assures. He's halfway to the door before he stops, turning on his heels. "Oh!...don't use the phone!"
Nick laughs from the couch.
...
She takes her time filling his fancy kettle, searching the cupboards for the tea he's sworn he's purchased just for her. She spies the camomile tucked beside his coffee filters and she smiles a little. He's missed dinner and the early evening has slipped away into the night, and she can't shake the unsettling feeling she had when he left.
While the kettle boils, she checks her phone for what feels like the millionth time from a text from him.
Nothing.
There's footsteps above her and they carry down the hall and the stairs until Nick is in the kitchen, standing in the fridge. "Is there anymore of that crumble left?"
"In the container in the back," she smiles.
He helps himself, grabbing a spoon hopping up onto the counter. "Has my dad texted you?"
She shakes her head. "Not yet."
Nick nods, taking a rather large bite of crumble. "He's a terrible texter when he's in the ER...even more when he's in the OR. Just so you know."
Under normal circumstances, she's sure she wouldn't worry as much as she is. The doorbell rings, and Nick is hopping off the counter to answer it. She follows, standing in the hallway as he opens the door to Derek and Brandon.
"What's wrong?" She questions immediately.
Nick closes the door behind them as they both step into the living room.
"I got Sam's message," Derek starts. "I'm sorry I couldn't get back to him earlier; we found Weld's car behind the brewery."
Everything tilts a little and she grabs hold of the arm chair for balance. "Where's Grace?" Brandon questions.
"She's upstairs," Nick answers. "What does this mean?"
Derek doesn't answer his questions. "Have you spoken to Abigail recently?" Her mind is racing. "I...we met at the Bistro...earlier today."
"Is Sam here?" Brandon asks.
She shakes her head. "...he got called into the ER a few hours ago."
Derek nods, reaching for the mic on his shoulder. "Copy dispatch? Contact Hillcrest for a location on Dr. Radford."
"What's going on?" Nick demands. "Is my Dad in danger or something?"
Derek exhales, giving Nick an empathetic look. "I'm sure your Dad is fine...Cassie, could we talk in private?"
Nick is about to protest when Derek's mic cut's in. "Copy chief?"
"Go ahead," Derek responds.
"Dr. Radford isn't at the hospital...shift has changed and they are unsure of when he left."
Derek shares a look with Brandon, who's already on his way out the door. "Copy dispatch... Officer Russell is looking into it."
Nick's got his phone to his ear and they can all hear it as it rings and rings and rings. "...pick up, pick up," he urges.
Tbc