A/N:Thank you for reading and reviewing! Keep the Addek Revolution going! (See more notes at the end of this chapter)
.-.-.
Some Bright Morning
3. by the bright riverside
.-.-.
After years of jostling for figurative space, they spend the flight jostling for literal space instead.
The narrow row Derek is forced to share apparently wasn't built with the Shepherds in mind; there's no room for two people approaching six feet to sit comfortably or even cross their legs without unavoidable, unwelcome contact. And Addison being Addison, she has to cross and recross her legs multiple times. The third time the razor-sharp tip of her stiletto bruises his shin he breaks his vow of silence and turns to her with annoyance.
"Can you just sit still for a minute and stop stabbing me with those ridiculous things?"
Addison doesn't say anything, but she does a show of recrossing her legs, forcing him to shove his feet hastily into the narrow strip of rubberized floor that can't really be called an aisle.
"So you're going to be mature about this," he comments, deciding to leave his feet propped in the middle of the plane, daring the flight attendant to tell him it's a safety hazard. He could use a drink. He could use more than one drink, actually, but the sole comfort in the lack of passed champagne is how much Addison is probably dying for a glass even more than he is. He's never known her to be comfortable in anything but first class.
"We've reached cruising altitude," the flight attendant announces from her pull-down seat. There's no need for voice amplification even though the flight is noisy; the attendant is basically sitting in their laps.
This is the signal Derek has been waiting for. But no sooner has he taken blessed relief of his seatmate, shaken out his paper, and read half the front page, when the flight attendant's shadow falls across the broadsheet.
"The Captain has started our descent, sir."
Derek glances up. "But we just…"
"I'll need to ask you to take your assigned seat again."
It takes every ounce of willpower he has not to roll his eyes.
Addison raises her eyebrows at him when he returns to her row. "Back so soon? I knew you would miss me."
"Just move over," he mutters, waiting for her to redirect the dangling weapon she calls a shoe; surprisingly, she does so without protest and just stares out the window. He looks too, as he slides into his seat and clicks his belt shut again.
What he sees is glimmering water. A lot of it. All around them. It's undeniably beautiful, but as the descent turns steep, he starts to wonder about the plan. Unless this is a seaplane, they're getting dangerously close to-
"Are we landing in the river?"
"I sure hope not," the pilot calls from the cockpit, his tone conversational. "But you can take over if you think you can do it better."
This is why cockpits should have doors.
"You are such a backseat driver," Addison mutters through gritted teeth next to him.
"Oh, am I embarrassing you?" Derek raises his eyebrows. "I didn't think you were capable of shame."
She blushes a little bit at this and goes back to staring out the window.
Derek practically levitates when the plane hits the ground and bounces upward, a curse escaping his mouth before he can stop himself. Addison, who seems to have been expecting the jolt, is annoyingly unruffled. He glares at her.
"Welcome to Beaufort Grove," the flight attendant says cheerfully as Derek tries to rub out the crick in his neck that's probably whiplash. "Beautiful landing, Captain," she adds, and Derek could swear he sees her wink.
When the pilot stretches his way out of the cockpit – he's practically too tall for the tiny plane - he gives Derek a very unimpressed look. "Let me help you with those, ma'am," the pilot says warmly to Addison, stepping in front of Derek to unload her bags himself and carry them down the little metal staircase. Derek hastens to grab his own luggage and watches from open door of the plane as the pilot turns and offers a hand to help Addison mince step down the last few stairs.
Again, Derek has to work hard not to roll his eyes. Addison was always good at acting helpless when it suited her. Actually asking for help, when she needed it? Not so much.
"You'll pass on my condolences to Big Randy," the pilot is saying when Derek steps onto the tarmac, holding one of Addison's hands in both of his as Derek watches with mild interest. "And tell the others I'm thinking of them."
"I will, of course I will. Thank you so much, Captain Eaves."
"Beau should be here in a minute," the pilot says, glancing between Addison and Derek. "Do you want me to wait with you, or…"
"No, it's fine." Addison smiles at the pilot, then follows his gaze to Derek. "Oh, don't worry about him. He's just sulking."
Derek glares at her; the sun seems to be glaring back off the hot surface of the blacktop under his feet. He glances around at their surroundings. The airport – more like an airstrip, or maybe just a strip – is tiny, and seems to grow straight from the riverbank at its edges. It's just water, marsh, and then the solid blacktop they're standing on now. Theirs is the only plane; about fifty feet away is a weathered-looking white wood structure with darkened windows. If there's anyone in there he can't see them.
"Sulking?" The pilot shakes his head. "Married to a fine woman like you? He should be appreciating, not sulking."
Derek doesn't bother to hide his eye roll this time. "Addison," he says with exaggerated affection, "did you forget to tell your new friend why I'm sulking?"
"Thank you so much," she says hastily to the pilot. "We won't keep you any longer."
She waits until the pilot has made it most of the way to the little white building before she turns back to Derek. "Get it out of your system now, okay?" Her voice shakes a little. "Just … get it out there. I don't want to upset Savvy, Derek, and you said you would-"
He holds up a hand to stop her. "I know what I said. We're not on the island yet, are we?"
"No," she admits, "but you obviously can't resist a cheap shot."
"Just like you couldn't resist screwing my best friend in my favorite sheets." He pauses and then smiles slightly; he feels a little better already. "Okay, that one should last me a few minutes."
"Those aren't your favorite sheets, Derek-"
"Don't," he interrupts.
"Fine." She turns away from him, then turns back. "Captain Eaves was being nice."
"Excuse me for thinking you can handle your own bags, Addison. You're a world-renowned surgeon, not Scarlett O'Hara."
"Just forget it, Derek. Just … we're not going to do this in front of Savvy and Weiss, you did say…"
"I keep my word, Addison," he stresses I in a way that makes her exhale sharply, clearly getting his meaning.
She pulls her sunglasses down for a minute to stare at him. "Derek-"
But a loud, deep voice interrupts them before she can finish.
"Would you look at what Captain Eaves dragged in!"
Addison turns at the voice. "Beau!"
Derek doesn't recognize the very tall, very blond man striding up to them. He's wearing a blue chambray shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms, khaki shorts and water shoes and he's unencumbered by luggage. He looks, for all intents and purposes, like he doesn't have a care in the world.
"You are a sight for sore eyes, Miss Addie." Derek watches as she steps into the man's offered embrace. He holds her away for a moment and seems to be studying her outfit; with her lightweight black coat thrown over her arm, she's dressed in a fitted black skirt and a black and white blouse. "What's all this you're wearing? You going to a funeral or something?"
Neither Addison nor Derek speaks for a moment.
"Come on, you know Auntie Kate would have laughed at that."
Addison smiles. "That's true, she would have. Beau … I'm so sorry."
"Thank you, honey." He rests a large hand on her shoulder. "Means a lot that you're here."
"Of course."
"Well, there you go." Beau looks her up and down again. "And we're glad to have you, but I don't think those shoes are gonna fly on the island..."
Addison follows his gaze and laughs a little. "Don't worry, I'm changing before we push out." She points to the bag resting on the pavement beside her – or, because it's Addison, resting on those little gold knob things that protect the fabric from touching the runway. God forbid a bag touch the ground.
Derek clears his throat slightly and Addison turns to him. "Sorry. Derek, this is Beau, one of Savvy's cousins – "
When Beau clears his throat this time, Addison smiles and says, "okay, one of Savvy's best cousins, and Beau, this is Derek, my, uh, my husband. You met at Savvy and Weiss's wedding but that was years ago, so..."
Derek looks at the other man with some doubt. Savvy and Weiss's wedding was so long ago now that he can't remember her side of the family other than their being tall, large, and blond, with a lot of interesting nicknames, so he supposes Beau fits the bill.
"Hasn't been so long that I'd forget the prettiest bridesmaid there," Beau says, winking at Addison.
Addison can't seem to help smiling at this, her voice an obviously flattered coo. "Thank you, Beau, but I think we can all agree Augie took that prize."
"Hey now, this is Georgia, not Arkansas," he says, grinning, "so I'll thank you to leave my little cousin out of this."
Derek turns away, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder and wondering if he can convince Captain Eaves to fly him back to Seattle in that tiny deathtrap.
When he turns back to the other two, Beau is looking at Addison with an expression Derek can't identify. "Been a long time since you've seen the island, hasn't it, Addie. Not since-"
"Yes, it's been a while," Addison says quickly, cutting him off. Derek notices her throwing him a glance and a little nod from Beau. He files the information away to consider later; presumably she's doing it to annoy him.
"Well." Addison smiles tightly. "I should go and change before we head out."
Beau nods. "And you, Addie's-husband? You gonna change? No monkey suits allowed on the island."
Derek looks down at what he's wearing – not a suit, but dark slacks and a button-down shirt. He wouldn't have minded wearing jeans, but Addison beat any impulse to dress casually for travel out of him years ago and apparently it's going to take more than a month, even three thousand miles away, for him to be reprogrammed.
"I wasn't planning on it," he admits.
"You're fine," Addison says to him, giving him what he supposes is intended to be a reassuring smile, but most of it drops from her face when she sees his expression. "Don't worry about it. Beau, just – be nice to him while I'm gone."
"Where are you going, anyway?" Derek doesn't see any place to change.
Addison points to the weathered structure Derek noticed early.
"It says flight crew only," Derek notes.
"Not very creative, is he?" Beau doesn't look impressed. "Go on, there's a beautiful powder room just past that door. Captain Eaves wouldn't have it any other way, and I'll keep your husband company."
Derek winces at the thought.
.-.-.
Addison closes the door behind her, heart speeding up. That was close.
The island is going to be difficult. She knew this, she anticipated it, but … there are so many things unsaid between them, some that need to be said and some that, as far as she's concerned, should never be said.
Leaning against the bettered wooden door, she forces her breathing to slow down, remembering that this is just the beginning.
Spending five days in close quarters with her estranged husband – who obviously can't stand the sight of her? It's not like Savvy wouldn't do that for her and more. Not like she hasn't already.
Twisting her rings around her finger, Addison reminds herself that this is about Savvy. It's about her friend. Everything else can wait.
.-.-.
"Now that's more like it!" Beau, who has made nothing more sinister than casual conversation about the weather in her absence, looks up and beams as Addison approaches the two men.
Derek looks up, confused.
The woman standing in front of them looks completely different from the one who met him at the airport: her long hair is piled messily in a clip on the top of her head, she's wearing soft, summery-looking pants that hang loosely almost to the ground, a drapey knit top that leaves most of her arms exposed, and casual flat sandals that lop four inches of height from the amazon who tried to intimidate him at the Charlotte airport. She's holding a large straw hat in her hands; where she was keeping that in her luggage he has no idea, but Addison's packing skills are legendary. He remembers his nieces dragging them into his mother's den at Christmas to watch Mary Poppins and pointing when the singing nanny reached into her carpetbag to pull out one improbably large item after another: Look, just like Aunt Addie!
"Doesn't she look lovely?"
Derek glances at Beau, who raises an eyebrow at him.
"The island isn't exactly a stiletto sort of place," Addison says, almost apologetically.
"You could have warned me before I left," he can't help retorting.
"You could have answered my email," she snaps back.
He scowls, annoyed with her for impressing upon him that casual clothes were inappropriate for travel - and annoyed with himself for not being able to shake it. It's one of the things he knows she's retained from her mother's none-too-gentle tutelage in her formative years – cold cream was another; it was old fashioned even in his own mother's time but Addison always refused to use anything else, and he's not blind enough to deny her skin seems happy with it. It's been a revelation to sleep in a bed that's not scented with that light but penetrating fragrance, the same one all sixteen years he slept next to her. She's nothing if not faithful to that stuff.
At least she's faithful to something.
"I hope you packed some other things," Beau is saying, gesturing toward Derek's bag. "There's not much formality on the island. Do you … get outdoors, much?"
"Derek loves to fish," Addison says innocently.
"Do you? Good man." Beau nods approvingly. "We'll be fishing off the island, of course, someone has to feed the hordes of hungry Beauforts."
"Beaufort?" Derek glances at the little wooden sign with peeling paint:
welcome to beaufort grove
Beau turns to Addison. "How much does he know about the island?"
Addison shrugs apologetically, which irritates him, but then everything is irritating him right now as the sun bakes the back of his neck and he wishes he could rip off the shirt he's starting to sweat through. Hopefully it will be cooler on the island.
"I'll give him the basics," Beau promises, "but let's get going."
There's a moment where Derek wonders if he'll seal his fate with the whole extended family by leaving Addison to carry her own bags, but only a moment: Beau takes both her bags and then offers her his arm gallantly. This time, with only Addison looking at him, Derek indulges his desire to roll his eyes and sees the exact moment Addison decides not to stick her tongue out at him.
Here's to civility.
His sunglasses mute the strong rays just enough for him to make out the little mahogany boat waiting for them at the end of the wooden dock.
"The runabout," Addison beams. "She looks great."
So Addison can talk about boats, when it suits her.
Beau loads their luggage into the storage under the backseat; then, bracing one foot on the dock, he offers Derek a hand into the boat.
Derek pauses.
Beau shrugs. "I don't mind if you'd rather fall in, if you don't mind getting soaked."
Putting his pride aside, he lets the other man help him into the back seat before Beau turns and all but lifts Addison into the seat beside his. Showoff.
"So." Beau turns around. "Before we get going and it gets loud, just the basics: you landed in Beaufort Grove, this is Beaufort Dock, and we're headed out to Beaufort Island."
"I thought it was called-"
"St. Cera's is the name," Beau says patiently, "but that's a long story for another time involving a hurricane and a sacrifice and … let's just say it might as well be Beaufort Island. Beauforts have owned it forever."
"Forever," Derek responds faintly.
"Forever," Beau confirms. "The first Beaufort bought it from King George himself." He grins. "Not the only time a Beaufort bet on the wrong horse, but … can't say the island wasn't a good purchase. It's served us well over the years."
"Is it … settled?"
Beau chuckles. "Depends what you mean by that. Lots of wildlife. Some of it even human. Usually a couple of Beauforts – as needed," and he and Addison exchange a glance at this, "and there's the conservation project and then to raise money and keep things going there's Reeds."
Addison's facing away from him in the front seat, apparently looking out at the river, her posture tense and stiff. Typical, she was never comfortable in nature. For a petty moment Derek hopes their accommodations will be exceptionally spare and rural. He wouldn't mind sleeping in a tent for that.
"What's-"
"We should get going," Beau interrupts. "They're waiting for us. You understand."
And he pulls on the ripcord without another word.
.-.-.
Addison watches Beau's broad, tanned forearm working the controls, gently increasing their speed as the sleek mahogany boat cuts through the water. Cool little droplets fly up and refresh her sun-warmed skin. She closes her eyes for a minute, remembering what it feels like.
"Still love this trip," Beau comments, having to speak loudly over the motor. "No matter how many times we do it."
When she opens her eyes, Beau is smiling at her. "I wasn't more than five the first time my daddy let me drive it myself, sitting on his lap but still helming."
"Savvy always said you were a good driver," Addison smiles back.
"She had to, she begged me to teach her. I don't think Uncle Randy could've lasted five minutes with his baby girl behind the wheel. And then she moved to New York City," and Beau's pronunciation makes clear what he thinks of that decision, "and doesn't even have to drive anymore."
"How's she holding up?" Addison asks the question softly, but he hears her.
"She's strong," Beau says after a moment. "And she's got her whole family around her – or she will, once you get there."
Addison feels tears springing to her eyes. The sheer emotional generosity of Savvy's immediate and extended family never fails to astonish her, even after all these years. She was not-quite-eighteen when she first met them, didn't even realize how parched she was until she started drinking greedily from their seemingly unquenchable stream of love and understanding.
A warm hand touches her arm. "You all right?"
Beau is looking at her with concern she can see even around his sunglasses. His deep, honeyed voice is comforting. Slowly, she nods. Sitting in the front like this just with Beau, the husband who hates her relegated to the back, she almost feels okay. Derek did promise to keep himself in check on the island. So if they can just get through this journey…
Beau slows the boat down as they approach the narrow wooden dock Addison remembers, well-worn posts extending into the sparkling water that carries them, and surrounded by a curtain of low hanging tree branches like a leafy canopy. The sun is too strong to see much past the dock, just the beginning of green and gold bursts of reeds, thick and marshy, giving the entrance to the island an otherworldly look.
"Addie!"
Addison holds a hand up to shade her eyes at the familiar voice and a hazy figure comes into view, the sun making a crown behind her blonde head. Sunglasses obscure most of her face but there's no mistaking their owner. Despite the sad circumstances, despite the guilt that's pulsing through her veins, Addison can't help the instinctual reaction she's always had just to hear her name in that welcome tone: her mouth curves into a smile.
"Addie and Derek!" Savvy holds out both her arms toward the approaching boat. "You made it!"
…that's one way to put it.
A review is worth a thousand words! (and this story is a lot longer than that). More questions raised, I know, but this is only chapter three. I'm really enjoying exploring this particular time in the Addek marriage. Next chapter up soon!
Patsy - in response to the question in your review: no, I've never written under another name, and those aren't my stories - but that's so funny about the Georgia island! My island moved around a fair bit, and I only settled on Georgia last minute for climate reasons, so any barrier island will do. Are you the Patsy who read and commented on When I Grow Up? Either way, this story is Addek, but I will definitely be writing more MerDer in the near future, especially my favorite brand (MerDer and Maddison with their progeny) so I hope you'll stay tuned.
Title from I'll Meet you in the Morning by Albert E. Brumley
