A/N: Thank you thank you thank you for continuing to read. Keep it up 'cause it makes me speedy when you're read-y. And poetic, too. Now, back to the Island show, currently in progress... (And thank you Em68 for a line from you that you will recognize; couldn't resist...)
.-.-.
Some Bright Morning
5. glad and happy when we meet
.-.-.
Addison already feels uncomfortable trying to work the old-fashioned key into the lock while Derek's glare bores holes in her back and the sun beats into her hair.
And then the door swings open ... and it doesn't get much better.
Their room at Reeds is large and airy, with wide weathered floorboards and a graceful ceiling fan, but she can't help wincing when she sees there's only one the bed, covered in a sea green and white quilt, right in the middle of the room like it's laughing at them.
Derek brushes past her and then stops when he sees the décor, grimacing.
"At least it's … a queen, I think?" Addison studies the bed nervously.
"It looks more like a full. If that."
"Derek…"
"Forget it. You can take the bed and I'll sleep on the…" she sees the moment he notices there's no actual couch, just a series of assorted, mismatched pieces of antique-looking furniture, from a small brocade loveseat to a thinly padded marriage bench. No couch, and nothing long enough for even a curled up adult body.
Addison gestures toward the weathered floorboards. "There's always the floor."
"Why don't you sleep on the floor, then," he snaps.
"Derek … is it because I've been hanging around Savvy's family, or have you always been this much of a ... giver?"
He raises his eyebrows. "You want favors from me, after what you did?"
"No, not favors, I just…."
Her voice trails off. She doesn't know how to finish the sentence, she doesn't know how to be around Derek without being reminded of what a terrible person she is – which he's only too glad to do at any opportunity – so she just opens her bag for lack of anything else to do.
Being in this room with him is strange, uncomfortable in a way she didn't predict. They've stayed in so many hundreds of hotel rooms; even though they're fighting, she notices they've automatically taken the same sides they always do in hotels – that is, the opposite sides they take at home. She's already started unpacking, and finds herself leaving every other drawer in the bureau for Derek instinctually.
She starts to feel a little calmer as she unpacks; organizing has always done that for her, or maybe it's because Derek is keeping his distance over by the dusty bookshelves, jabbing at his phone.
"What are you doing?"
She jumps a little at his sharp tone and draws her hands back like she's been burned. It's not until she glances down to see what's angered him that she realizes her hands are in his suitcase. She's been unpacking for him, automatically, like she always does in hotel rooms when she's done unpacking her own bags.
"I'm sorry," she takes a step back, feeling her cheeks flush. "It was just … forget it." She turns away, swallowing hard.
Staring around the room for something to take her attention off how much Derek hates her, she notices a reassuring sign of modernity is a small refrigerator tucked under an antique table. Is that?
She opens it to find that it is, and she exhales a grateful sigh.
"What is that?" Derek is looking too, at a series of mason jars – there must be a dozen – filled with clear liquid.
Addison almost laughs. "It's white lightning. Savvy's family has been making this recipe for ages. They say it's better on the island because of the-" She stops talking, having a strong feeling Derek would either laugh or sneer at the phrase magical properties and she's not sure she can handle the latter.
Derek just studies the contents of the refrigerator.
"Moonshine, huh?"
She nods.
"Is it strong?"
She nods. "Very."
"Good," he says grimly, and turns his back, with no need to elaborate. We're going to need it.
She sits down on the side of the small bed, pulling out her phone, which has vibrated several times in the last few minutes as, presumably, it hits the island's newly added tower.
"Do you mind?" She sees she's sat on the strap of his bag without noticing.
"Sorry, I was just … " she turns her phone toward her as Derek approaches.
"Texting Mark?"
How could he know that?
And then she realizes her miscalculation immediately; he was just throwing stuff at the wall to see if it would stick.
But it's too late, because he can read her face and she sees the moment he figures it out too.
"You're unbelievable." He shakes his head. "You're still screwing him. That's who you were with the night I called you?"
"Derek, you left me," her voice trembles and she forces it to steady.
"With good reason." His tone is clipped, dismissive, but she stands up anyway, wanting to be taller to face the anger she assumes is coming.
"What about you?" She feels reckless, ready for offense as her best defense. She's never been good at standing still while he tears her apart and yet…
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, who is she?"
"Addison, either start making sense or stop talking to me. …preferably the latter," he adds in a mutter designed for her to hear.
"Who. Is the girl. You're seeing." She enunciates the words carefully and coolly.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Come on, Derek, you're obviously seeing someone. What else would have you checking your phone like a drug dealer?"
He doesn't answer.
"Are you saying you don't have a girlfriend in Seattle?"
"Like a drug dealer …" He mimics her words, shaking his head. "Nice, Addison. And yes. As a matter of fact I'm seeing someone. Not that it's any of your business."
"…oh."
That's all that comes out of her mouth – so much for a good offense.
She shouldn't be surprised, right? She goaded him into admitting it, after all. Or was she, like Derek, just taking shots to see what would stick? Now that it's out in the open she feels deflated, confused.
It makes sense, and yet … for some reason it makes her feel uncomfortable. Derek is seeing someone.
She tries to picture this girl and can only see a faceless woman – she adds scrubs, because Derek can't have changed so much that he ever leaves the hospital long enough to meet someone outside of work – and long hair, since Derek is predictable, but the face remains a vague blur. Then she sees Derek kissing the blurry-faced woman; sees them pulling each other into on-call rooms, laughing against the wall, looking at each other across a draped body in the OR.
Something small and sad stirs within her at the last thought.
Which is silly, because Derek has made it perfectly clear how he feels about her, and Mark is waiting for her in New York. She takes a deep breath; she needs bravado, needs it fast or she'll cry even if there's no reason to.
"So, tell me about your girlfriend."
"Addison … drop it."
"Derek, I'm just asking-"
"We're not talking about this."
"Come on, I asked nicely."
"Addison." His tone is very close to losing patience.
"Derek," and her plaintive tone embarrasses her a little, "you did say that we'd try to get along on the island. We're supposed to be getting along for Savvy and Weiss."
"Savvy and Weiss aren't here."
She sighs, suddenly very tired.
"Addison," his voice is calm, rather dangerously so, and he's back in her airspace. "You and Mark … in my house?"
"You mean the house you left without a word?" His face is so dark she actually takes a small step back. "No," she says quickly, and it's true; she hasn't been able to bring herself to touch Mark in the brownstone since that night.
Derek just turns on his heel and heads for the door anyway.
"Where are you going?"
"Out," he says simply, "and I suggest you don't follow me."
The door slams smartly behind him
.-.-.
Directly outside the door, their room opens onto a ground-level patio area held up with local-wood beams, a porch swing and plants helping themselves to wall space. From there it's a matter of steps down through the reeds to a deserted strip of sandy beach; he avoids that direction.
He just walks with no real purpose in mind other than putting space between himself and Addison.
Not so unlike the morning he drove away from Manhattan, he realizes.
It doesn't matter that she admitted she's still sleeping with Mark. A part of him knew all along, realized she wasn't in an on-call room when he caught her in the middle of the night to deliver the news about Savvy's mother. He has a new life in Seattle. A better life.
So it doesn't matter.
Aimlessly, he follows the path they came in on. It's so quiet here, peaceful, at odds with the thumping of his heart and the pulsing of angry blood in his veins. He's not angry – he has no reason to be angry – but he's tired of looking at her.
Eventually, he runs into the reeds near the dock. Past it, the direction he watched Beau and his gang of merry blonds, there's a curving dirt path. He follows it to a small clearing. Trees hang low around a roughly-shaped circle, there's a stone fire pit and graduated logs serving as benches. It's serene, nothing but nature sounds and-
And people approaching from the opposite direction.
"Derek." Savvy waves at him as she crosses the dirt path, her hand tucked into the large bare arm of a tall blond man. "You found us."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."
"You're never interrupting," she says fondly. "Welcome to the hearth; it's one of my favorite spots on the island. Derek, you remember my brother, Boswell, I know you've met a few times. Bos, Derek is Addie's husband."
Boswell, who has a trimmed blond beard and faded red shorts, gives Derek a look he's not sure how to interpret – but it doesn't scream welcome.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," Derek says, extending his hand to shake. Boswell stares at it for a moment, then takes it for the briefest of squeezes and a quick nod of acknowledgement.
So much for the southern manners that have Addison so enamored.
Savvy smiles at Derek, not seeming to notice her brother's strange behavior. "Where's Addie, anyway?"
I don't know and I don't care?
"Uh, back at the room, I think."
Savvy gives him a look of concern. "The room's all right?"
"It's fine, Sav, it's great. Don't worry about us, you have enough going on."
She smiles at him gratefully. "Ooh, let me just tell Addie that we're all down here, Bos is dying to see her." She reaches into her small straw bag and withdraws a cell phone. "And now that we can text … "
"Oh, sis, texting on the island?" Bos grimaces. "Well. I guess it's okay if it means Addie's coming, though."
Savvy smiles at him.
So much for getting away from Addison. Derek tries to gesture his way out of the area without being too obvious. "I should be getting…"
"Hang on," Savvy motions to him. "Oh, good, she's already heading out this way."
Derek glances back and forth between Savvy and the sandy path that would take him out of here. The time for decision passes quickly.
Addison, who is fast on heels, is apparently lightning speed in her sandals because she arrives quickly and a little breathlessly, giving Derek a nervous look.
Before either of them can acknowledge each other, Bos is swooping in.
"Addie, look at you!"His hug lifts her off her feet and he turns in a full circle, whirling her around with him. He scans her face once he's set her gently back down on her feet.
"How long has it been?" He shakes his head.
Addison smiles at him. "Too long."
"You're damn right it's been too long. Look at you, baby girl, you're beautiful." He pauses. "You still wearing that retainer at night?"
She laughs. "No. Not anymore."
"Okay, good."
.-.-.
It's good to see Bos and Addie together. Really, really good.
It makes her heart feel warm, and she needs that, because her heart has been a squeeze of fear and pain for the last two weeks.
Her brother and her dearest friend are smiling at each other now, joking around like they used to.
"Montgomery," he's teasing her and Addison corrects him, looking a little sheepish.
"Actually … it's Shepherd now."
"Shepherd?" Boswell, who should be well aware of Addison's married name, looks from Addie to Derek. "As in … big fan of sheep?" Bos studies Derek again, appraisingly, this time. "Yeah, you know … I can definitely see it."
"Bos," Savvy says reprovingly, resting her hand on his arm. Her brother and his runaway tongue. Addie shoots them both a nervous look.
"Wait … the two of you …?" Derek seems to pick up on what's unspoken in the air. "You've got to be kidding me."
"It was ages ago, years before I met you, Derek, is that all right with you?" Addie's voice sounds a little shaky. With good reason, too, and Savvy wonders if she should intercede.
"Oh sure, I don't mind if you sleep with people before we're married. It's when you sleep with people while we're married that I mind."
Bos's face darkens at this. "You know what? I don't think I like the way you're speaking to her. That's no tone to use with a lady."
"Well, she's not a lady," Derek says pleasantly. "So there's no need for concern."
Boswell takes a menacing step forwards.
Oh, brother.
Literally, that is.
Savvy rests a hand on Bos's arm again, a little more firmly this time. "Bubba, please. It's fine; it's just … how Derek is. He doesn't mean it. Right, Derek?"
Derek gives her an apologetic look and she grants him a small smile. So much for working it out. Well, she'll get Addie alone soon enough and figure out what's going on.
Bos just fixes Derek with a hard stare, then turns to Savvy.
"Let's go, baby girl, before I forget my manners."
He holds out an arm and Savvy links her hand through it, giving the Shepherds an apologetic look over her shoulder. Savvy turns back halfway down the path and sees Addie and Derek still standing there, apparently watching the siblings walk away. Savvy can't help but notice that for two people who supposedly can't stand each other, their postures are uncannily similar.
.-.-.
"What happened to Southern manners?"
"You're the rude one." She glares at Derek, who turned on her as soon as Savvy and Bos were out of earshot. "Derek, you said you'd be civil on the island. You upset Savvy."
He actually looks a little sorry, for once. "You know I wasn't trying to upset her."
"I know, it's okay." She finds herself wanting to smooth things over, to make things all right for him. It's a hard habit to break.
Turning her gaze, she stares out at the water. She can see a few smudges moving along in the blue, fishing boats, and for a moment she envies them their freedom. She feels frozen, her feet unwilling to leave the hearth but dreading going back to the shared room at Reeds where Derek's cold disgust with her permeates everything.
Derek's not moving either, his hands deep in his pockets, looking out at the water.
"What do you think of the island?" Her voice is tentative, and he doesn't answer.
Right. No small talk permitted.
But arguing is allowed, so she moves into his line of vision, forcing him to look at her instead of the water, daring herself to poke an open wound.
"So, is that why you picked Seattle? It wasn't random?"
"Excuse me?" He glances at her, annoyed, then looks away again.
"Is she why you moved out there to Seattle? This girl you're seeing. You knew her before?"
Derek shakes his head. "I think you have us mixed up, Addison. You're the one who breaks the wedding vows, not me."
She lets the words sting her. She'll take this back and forth over nothing, over being alone with her thoughts, so she props a hand on her hip and glares at him.
"Fidelity isn't the only vow, you know."
He turns back, biting at the line she dropped. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"it means you also took vows, Derek, and one of those was to love me."
"Oh, that's your side of the story? I didn't love you enough?" He laughs mirthlessly. "That's what you were thinking about when you got naked with my best friend?"
"You know what? Forget it." Her voice shakes. "So …" she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. "What's her name, anyway?"
He shakes his head with disgust. "Give it up, Addison."
"Isn't that your job?"
He glares at her now.
"I said we would be civil for Savvy," he snaps back. "For Savvy, not for you. And I have been civil, for that whole parade of … confederacy centerfolds you've slept with."
She inhales sharply. He doesn't understand, he can't –
"I never slept with Beau," she protests shakily.
"Now's your chance, then. Lucky you."
"Derek, he's married."
"Well, so are you, technically speaking, but that didn't stop you the last time."
Blood rushes to her cheeks and she thinks she'll be the one now to turn on her heel and storm off except that she sees a familiar figure heading toward the hearth – and all she has time to do is hiss a quick be nice.
.-.-.
"What's going on with those two?" Bos asks, once they're back at the Beaufort house's front porch. "It's tenser than the first time you brought Weiss to meet Grandmere and he wouldn't touch the ham croquettes."
"Bos!" She slaps him gently, then crouches in front of the aloe vera plant – her mother's green thumb was the best of all four Beaufort siblings, and she wants to take advantage of the soothing coolness for the sun on her shoulders . "You know Grandmere eventually came around," she reminds her brother.
"Sure, because that Yankee loves you. No one can can't hate a guy like that, sissy, not even Grandmere. Not even if he's the worst kind of Yankee."
"Boswell Sevier…" she begins severely, turning around and pointing a finger at him.
"A New Yorker, that's all I meant!" He holds his hands up innocently. "Listen, you know damn well I love Weiss. But speaking of Yankees … " And he pushes off on the porch swing again. "Back to those Shepherds. What's going on with them?" He moves his head in the general direction of Reeds and lifts an eyebrow.
"Addison and Derek? They're having some … marital problems."
"I'm not blind, baby girl, I didn't miss that part. Why are they here together, then?"
"Because they're good friends."
"You mean to you, or to each other?"
"Well … maybe both. They're here together, and they're … trying to work it out. I guess. I hope they are, anyway."
"Huh." He raises an eyebrow. "Didn't think Addie would end up with a sourpuss like that."
"He's not really like that," Savvy sighs. "It's kind of complicated."
"Really? He seemed a little green-eyed if you ask me. And that's not so complicated."
"Well, he doesn't know-"
"-good," Bos grins. "Let him wonder, then. What's his problem with Addie, though?"
Savvy shakes her head. "I can't gossip about them, Bos."
"Who are you and where's my baby sister?"
She presses her lips together and pretends to lock them and throw away the key, just like she has for the past thirty-cough-cough years.
Bos shakes his head. "A little white lightning will loosen those lips if I know you."
He pats the swing cushion next to him and she settles in. He wraps his arm around her and she leans her head against her brother's shoulder, letting a long sigh escape.
"I miss her," she says softly.
"Me too, honey. Me too." Bos pushes off with his foot – it was always his job to do that; he was always taller than she was – and they rock slowly.
"You think Daddy's okay?"
"I think he will be okay, Sav. I do. I think we all will."
"Bos … I'm scared I'm going to get sick," she confesses. "I know it sounds so selfish, thinking about that now, but…"
"Not selfish. It's not selfish at all, but why do you think that – you don't feel sick, do you? Savannah, I swear…"
"No, no," she says quickly. "It's not that … it's just, you know. First Aunt Cece, and then Mama, and … you know there's some research now, says there's this gene mutation that runs in families and gives you breast cancer, ovarian cancer. Makes it practically a definite you'll get it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And I took a test," she confesses. "Before I flew out here, I took a test for the mutation. I've been talking to the other girls and they're going to do it too." Her mother's brothers have two daughters apiece, making for six Beaufort girls altogether. "Millie's already given some blood, and the others are on board. All except Augie, she won't even hear me out."
"Augusta's stubborn, you know that."
"I know, but this is important. It's…" she pauses. "Bos … it could be life or death." She sighs "I know Augie hates doctors. I know. Has ever since …"
Her voice trails off. Her Aunt Cece – her blonde, laughing, elegant Aunt Cece, so much like her own mother, had fallen ill and passed so quickly it felt like a bad dream. She never even felt sick, that's what they'd all said over and over when they gathered on the island to say goodbye. Savvy was eighteen, barely started college, Cece's daughter Augie only sixteen. Her poor cousin had loathed hospitals ever since she lost her mother; it was all they could do to get her to deliver her own daughter in one, and no one could blame her.
The train of thought is interrupted by the buzzing of her phone. "Oh, Bos, Daddy's met up with Addie and them. Let's go."
.-.-.
Derek has a vague memory of meeting Savvy's father before; he looked familiar as he stomped his way up the path to the hearth, clearly a force to be reckoned with. He's tall and broad-shouldered, his blond hair mostly white now but still thick and somewhat untamed. Derek also remembers that he goes by the name Big Randy, and he recalls asking Savvy long ago whether there was a Little Randy. My brother, she said, looking confused, but not as confused as Derek felt. He'd never pressed the issue.
Big Randy shook Derek's hand and accepted his condolences once he joined them, thanking him for coming, but most of his attention has been on Addison since he arrived, sharing husky-voiced reminiscences with a smile as they stand around the cold firepit.
They all pause and look up as Savvy approaches. "Savvy!" Big Randy puts an arm out and pulls her into his side. Savvy, reasonably tall and statuesque, looks minute next to her father. "We were just talking about the day you and Addie met."
"When we made history." Savvy grins. "Fastest friends in the west."
Derek sees Addison and Savvy squeeze each other's hands.
"We met her on the same day, of course," Big Randy says, presumably for Derek's benefit. "First day of college. I'll never forget this one," he gestures toward Addison with a smile, "when we were moving you into that room, just unpacking all her things, doing whatever needed to get done – all by herself!"
Addison is still smiling back at Big Randy but Derek notices her posture stiffen just slightly.
"I said to myself, it's a good thing she's as tall as anything so she can reach those top shelves – she certainly had a lot of clothes to unpack."
Savvy smiles at the memory. "Addie always had the best clothes," she murmurs. Turning to Addison, she asks, "do you remember the-"
"-with the thing?" Addison finishes, laughing a little. "Of course I remember."
"And she unpacked it all by herself!" Big Randy spreads his hands, indicating a large job, still telling his story of the first day of college. "I remember saying to Katie, I said, we've spoiled our girl, look at Miss Savannah over there just fluffing her pillows –
"You always had so many pillows," Addison interrupts, smiling, and Savvy elbows her, laughing.
"-while we do all the work hanging and hammering. And here's her roommate just doing everything on her own. She didn't need her parents to hold her hand, just did everything all on her own."
Addison is still smiling, stiffly.
Big Randy turns to Addison. "Catherine loved you, you know," he says, and Derek sees her throat move as Addison swallows hard, then opens her mouth to say something.
She presses her fingers to her lips instead. "I'm sorry," she whispers.
Derek finds himself moves a hand slightly toward her, sheer muscle memory, and then quickly brings it back down. With it he forces down the unwilling mental picture of a seventeen-year-old Addison standing alone on the dusty-wood floor of the double dorm room he's seen in pictures, while Savvy's parents fussed over her.
She's fine.
And anyway, she doesn't need him ... she's made that perfectly clear.
You guys, why can't you just make up?! Sorry, got away from myself there. So, at this point, I don't think either Shepherd has a great idea of what they're actually feeling, but one of them is having some sentimental muscle memory, at the very least. And things are out in the open. Because they don't really need to hide them, since their marriage is over (OR IS IT) (IT'S NOT) To be continued. Pretty please keep reading and review; I love reviews like Derek is gonna love white lightning ...
PS Anyone else do the opposite-side thing in hotels?
PPS Sorry for the hyper post-story notes...
