I'll be busy for the next couple weeks – leaving town, a job interview & going back to school etc. so I'm not sure when I'll be able to update. But this chapter is extra long to make up for it! Thank you for all your reviews!

Logan Huntzberger had the perfect life until his fiancée walked out on him. When she suddenly reenters his life again, Logan and his best friend, Rory, come up with a brilliant plan. But, when the plan works better than they ever could imagine, it could mean more than they all bargained for.

OoOoOo

Logan paid the cashier at the door as the lights swirled around him. Noise and people. That's what he needed. Lots and lots of new people. A girl in a white leather micro-miniskirt sauntered by him, and his gaze followed her. Yes, this was exactly what he needed.

He leaned toward the bar and laid a casual arm on it. "Scotch, please."

The bartender nodded before setting a glass down. He took a long drink as the lights spun around him.

"Is this seat taken?" a leggy blonde asked at his elbow.

"It is now," he said, turning to her as she smiled and slipped onto the barstool.

She leaned into his space after turning the stool around so she could watch the dancers. "You new here?"

"Kind of."

Her head bobbed in time with the music so that he couldn't be sure if she was acknowledging his statement or simply dancing to the music.

"You want to dance?" he finally asked after three more drinks of the scotch.

"Sure," she said, sliding off the stool with a smile.

By the time he left the bar at three a.m., he barely remembered anything other than the blonde who still hung on his arm.

"You shouldn't drive," she said, surveying him.

"Oh, yeah? What should I do?"

"Well, my ride left awhile ago, so we could take your car over to my place, and you could crash there for awhile."

"And how do I know you won't take advantage of me?" he said with a smirk.

"You don't," she said seductively as they reached his car.

In one alcohol-saturated breath, he turned on her and pressed her against his door, crushing his lips to hers. She didn't struggle to get away. In fact, her body wrapped around his, yielding to his hands with no question. When his lips dropped to her neck, she pushed him away gently. "We should go."

He let her lead him around the car, deposit him in the front seat, and slam the door. Quickly she went around to the driver's side and climbed in. "Just relax, we'll be there in five minutes."

OoOoOo

The sirens somewhere below him brought him back to consciousness as he blinked against the pounding in his brain. "Ugh."

One muscle at a time, he looked around, realizing instantly that he didn't recognize a single thing. It was then that he looked down at himself. He felt the sheet on every part of his body, and he slowly turned and looked across to the other side of the bed. Blonde hair fanned out in cascading patterns off a bare white shoulder. In disbelief and disgust, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

Being very careful not to wake her up, he pulled the blankets away and reached down to the side of the bed for his clothes. The first rays of sunlight washed the room in soft purple, but as he fought with his pant leg, he realized it wasn't the light outside – the walls were actually purple. This was why he always left in the middle of the night.

On the stand beside the bed lay his keys. Carefully he stood and without bothering to put on his shirt, he grabbed the keys, and stepped toward the door. Candid shots from the night before flashed through in no recognizable order. A short miniskirt, blonde hair, a dance floor swirling with lights.

He took one more look at the figure on the bed before quietly picking up his jacket from beside the doorway, opening the door, and stepping out into the hallway. He vaguely remembered the parking lot, but for all the searching of his mind, he couldn't clearly see the face of the woman who had obviously done more than just drive him home.

As he ran through the living room, he yanked his shirt on and then his jacket, knowing no matter how many layers he put on, they would never cover up last night. Once on the street below, the cold wind met his face, and he breathed in stale, musty air that was still lodged in his lungs from the night before. Forcing his legs to stay under him, he walked to his car parked next to the curb.

In one motion he was in the front seat with the motor roaring beneath him. He pulled into traffic, fighting with his brain to stay with him long enough to figure out where he was so he could go home.

When had things gotten so totally out of his control? Was it when Brian had shown up on his doorstep, or was it months before when Mandy had walked out the same door? Or maybe it was even farther back when she walked in. His heart turned over at that thought. He certainly hadn't been in much better condition that first night with Mandy.

In fact, their first few months were one big blur of alcohol, clubs, and each other. Only after Rory had pointed out how perilously he was living, did he come to his senses and cut out at least some of the partying.

As he rolled to a stop at a stoplight, the thought hit him that it was then that Mandy had started pulling away. It was only because he had chosen to propose that she had stayed around so long. The car rolled through the intersection. Looking at the whole situation in a much clearer light, he saw that Mandy wasn't about settling down. Mandy was about partying until your head spun off your shoulders or you wound up dead in some ditch. He had done that in college, he was tired of it now. He'd much rather hang out at home and have a drink with friends.

The farther he drove, the clearer the last two years of his life became. He saw her begging him to take her out clubbing even though he simply wanted to stay in and relax. His memories wound around to seeing her skulking down the stairs that last night.

"You're acting like you're 90!" she'd yelled at him.

"Well, you're acting like some idiotic teenager."

He saw the anger shoot from her eyes.

"That's it."

"That's what?"

"I can't take this anymore." In slow motion he watched her walk back up the stairs.

"What does that mean?" he yelled up the stairs after her.

In what now seemed like only seconds, she appeared at the top stair with her bag tucked firmly under her arm.

"I said, 'What does that mean?'" And now he could hear the fear in his voice although at the time, he'd thought there was only anger.

"It means you are not my father, and now, you're not my boyfriend either." With that, she had slipped the ring off her finger and placed it in his hand.

In a panic, he looked down at the ring as she walked past him to the door. "Mandy, wait."

He shook his head at the memory. Why did he want her to wait? They obviously wanted different things from life. She wasn't ready to settle down, and he wondered now if she ever would be.

The car turned into his parking lot and then into a space as he killed the engine. His head was pounding and doing everything in its power not to remember the night before, but it was right there, and somehow he knew it always would be.

However, for the first time in four months, he knew he would be all right again. He felt sure he could see Mandy now, and it wouldn't utterly destroy him. That, in and of itself, made life today worth living.

He climbed the steps to his apartment being careful not to jar his head anymore than was necessary. At his door he took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever might be on the other side.

However, when he pushed through the door, the apartment was completely silent. Thankfully, he locked the door behind him and climbed the stairs. His bed was going to feel very, very good.

It wasn't until he reached for his doorknob that he heard Brian. "You just getting in?"

Logan turned and met Brian, bleary-eyed just coming out of the bathroom.

"Yeah," Logan said, running a hand through his hair, knowing how he must look.

Brian shook his head slowly. "You're really going to have to introduce me sometime."

OoOoOoO

"So was Mandy there or not?" Rory asked Logan Monday afternoon under the canopy of trees as his story, sans the mystery woman's apartment, wound to an end.

Logan shrugged. "I don't know. By the time I got up again, it was just Brian."

"And you didn't ask him?"

"No, I figure the less I know, the better."

"Well, what happens when you walk in on them making out on the couch?"

"I'll just say, 'Hi, Mandy, nice you decided to visit again,' and then I'll go up to my room."

Rory shook her head in exasperation. "This isn't funny."

"No," he said as peace flowed through him. "It's life. Remember that thing you told me about going out and getting again. Well, I did, and it feels good."

Wordlessly she balled her wrapper up and tossed it into the trash. "Well I'm happy for you, I guess."

"You guess?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "There's a resounding vote of confidence."

She exhaled as her fingers gripped the bottom of the bench. "I just hope you're not kidding yourself."

"Kidding myself? About what?"

"About being over her."

"Wait a minute," Logan said in bewilderment. "First you think I should get over her, and then when I do, you think I shouldn't get over her so fast."

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did."

Rory spun her head so that her hair swung around her head. "I'm just saying I want you to be honest with yourself. Don't get over her because I said to, and don't lie to yourself about it either. You're just setting yourself up for a bigger heartache later when you finally do meet up with her."

Defiantly he rolled his wrapper into a ball and threw it over her head. "First of all, you give yourself far too much credit. Second of all, she's leading her life, I'm leading mine. It's not going to kill me to see her again."

"Even if she's with Brian?" she asked skeptically.

"Even if she's with Brian."

OoOoOo

It was the Friday after Thanksgiving when he had his first chance to test his newfound peace. Brian had gone to his family's place to celebrate, and with his parents in visiting family in New York, Logan had opted to stay home with a turkey TV dinner and football. Not that he would want to spend Thanksgiving with his family anyway.

In fact that's where he was when he first heard the sounds at the door. Puzzled he looked over to it and immediately froze. By the time his brain registered what was happening, it was too late to react.

"Hey, Logan," Brian said, following Mandy into the living room as Logan stood on rubber legs. "We're not staying, I just had to get my other shirt."

Logan stood, nailed to the floor, as they stared at each other. Logan disappeared up the stairs.

"Hi," Logan finally said after several full moments of silence.

"Hi." Mandy pursed her full lips together and then smiled tightly. "Umm, how are you?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'm good."

He smiled softly. "I'm glad."

Brian came flying back down the stairs pulling his coat back on. "I'm sorry. I completely forgot to introduce you two. Logan, this is Mandy, Mandy, Logan."

Logan would never have believed the composure he now exhibited but he held his hand out to her and shook hers politely. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," she said, smiling what he interpreted as a grateful smile. As soon as he dropped her hand, she turned to Brian and ran her arms around his back. "We should be going."

"Yeah," he said to her, and then he turned to Logan. "We'll be back late. Don't wait up."

"Have fun," Logan said from the spot where he still stood.

"Oh, we will," Brian said from the door just before pulling it closed.

Slowly Logan sat back down in the chair as the commentators continued their obnoxious banter. One step at a time he made his way down into the feelings rushing through him.

Relief was the overriding one, but there was also a sense of tranquility and a solid belief that he would, in fact, be all right.

OoOoOo

"I don't know what to say," Rory said, and he felt the softness of her gaze slide over his face.

"Mandy made sense for that time in my life, but that's not what I want anymore."

"Oh, yeah, and what do you want now?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Something real. Someone I can talk to, someone who looks good with or without a strobe light going, someone who fits with me." He leaned back on the bench and gazed up through the tree limbs. "Someone who make me feel good about my strengths, and helps me work on my weaknesses without rubbing them in my face." When he closed his eyes, the peace came over him again. "So, do you think she's out there?"

It was several seconds before she answered. "Yeah, I think she is."

"I hope so. I just wish I knew where to find her."

"Well, maybe you're looking in the wrong direction," she said softly.

He opened his eyes, and his gaze slid over her small features. "Oh, yeah? What direction should I be looking in?"

Slowly she shrugged. "I think you're going to have to answer that question for yourself."

OoOoO

A different direction. He had thought about her words most of the night. But what other directions were there? The nightclub scene was pointless and seemed only to lead to heartache and pain. There was work, but besides Rory, he didn't know all that many people there – none that he'd ever consider asking out. He thought about asking Rory if she knew someone, but he quickly dismissed that idea. She might send him to Dave's other cousin, and then he and Mandy would end up in the same family. There was a frightening thought.

He was still thinking the next morning when the alarm went off at five-thirty. "All major businesses will be closed today as well as all the schools. The snow is making it hazardous to…"

With one swipe, Logan hit the off button and slid out of bed. He reached out and pulled the blinds down with one finger. Instantly the blinding whiteness from outside stung his eyes to the cornea.

He let the blinds go and without bothering to put a shirt on, he walked out the door and down the stairs where he found Brian dressed in workboots and over-warm clothing.

"Where are you going?" Logan asked, puzzled.

"Time to shovel walks," Brian said as though this was the opportunity of a lifetime.

"Oh, yeah? Where?"

"Everywhere they'll let me."

Logan shook his head. "Why?"

"You come to people's aid in their desperate times, they remember you come spring," Brian said confidently.

"Oh," Logan nodded as he walked to the table and sat down.

"I'll see ya," Brian said with a slight wave.

Just as Brian reached the door, Logan looked up. "Hey, you want some help?"

OoOoO

Never. Not one day in his whole life had Logan been so sore. A hot bath, three aspirins, a heating pad, and Sports Cream – nothing had made one dent of difference.

"Man, wasn't today great?" Brian asked, handing Logan a beer from the refrigerator.

"Great," Logan started to say, but finished with, "Oww!"

"Did you see how grateful they were over at the hardware store? They couldn't believe it."

"They weren't the only ones," Logan said, tipping the bottle to his lips.

Brian fell to the couch. "If I could just arrange it so we'd have a dozen more of these storms, I'd have all the work I wanted come spring."

"If you arrange a dozen more of these storms, I'm moving."

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me didn't enjoy that," Brian said, his chest rising and falling with excitement.

"It was okay," Logan admitted as much to himself as to Brian.

"Yeah, uh-huh. I saw the way you smiled at old Mrs. Roselli when she said you'd be perfect for her granddaughter."

Logan smiled at the thought.

"That's what I thought," Brian said with a nod. "See, it feels good to be out there doing something that doesn't involve staring at a computer screen all day. Tell the truth."

"Okay, it was fun." Logan set the bottle next to his chair. "Just remind my body of that tomorrow morning when it's sitting at that computer again." He sat up and tried to stretch his back, but the effort itself sent screaming pain through his entire body. "I must be insane."

"That's part of the fun," Brian said with a smile. "Man, I hope it snows more tonight."

The next morning it wasn't two-feet of snow Logan found himself facing, it was six-feet of slush. City trucks had been out all night pushing the snow into the center of the streets so that big, glacial, icebergs were the only things visible down most streets. Traffic moved at a crawl all the way to Mitchell street, which itself was a maze of the brown-white ice stacked all along the sidewalks and curbs.

Carefully he turned into the parking lot and checked the clock on the dash. 8:14. He was late, but he was here. That was an accomplishment. He crawled out of his car and walked to the elevator as he folded and unfolded his fist, trying to work out the stiffness from work the day before.

When he reached his floor, he sauntered into the maze of cubicles and stopped by Rory's with a slap on the wall, but just as his wise remark about skipping school made it from his brain to his lips, he realized she wasn't at her desk. With a shrug, he walked the three more steps to his own cubicle and sat down at his desk to start a new day.

Logan listened for her all morning, but her cubicle was deathly quiet, and something in the pit of his stomach said he should be concerned that, which, of course, was silly. She had probably just chickened out on coming in. Not that he blamed her. He wished he had stayed home too.

Then he reached across his desk and his arm screamed in pain. Quietly he laughed. He was probably safer at work. Brian had left early this morning with two sacks of salt, a shovel, and a smile. Logan sighed. It must be nice to have a definite purpose in life.

"Here you go," Elliot said, striding into Logan's cubicle and dropping a stack of paper onto his desk.

"What's this?"

"The stuff for the features section."

"Features? That's Rory's department."

"Yeah? Well, she won't be in the rest of the week, so now it's your department."

Logan's concern leaped into his gut. "She won't be in?"

"She fell yesterday." Elliot shrugged. "Something about her ankle." Then he turned to leave. "Oh, yeah, I'll need a rough draft before you leave."

Logan looked down at the stack without seeing it. The second Elliot disappeared around the corner, Logan picked up the phone. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four. He was debating what message he should leave as the answering machine picked up.

"Rory? This is Logan."

"Wait!" she yelled just as an ear-splitting squeal cut right through her word. "I'm here. Just a second."

The squeal stopped short, and Logan shook his head to get his ear to stop ringing.

"Logan?" she asked with concern.

"Hi," he said suddenly at a total loss for words. "Umm, what're you doing?"

"Doing? Well, I'm sitting here in my pajamas watching three talk shows at the same time."

"Three? Now, that takes talent."

She laughed, and then her side went quiet as he stumbled through words he didn't know how to say.

"Do you need something?" she asked slowly.

"Oh, no. I…, umm, I mean, Elliot just told me you hurt your ankle or something. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, sounding slightly annoyed. "I guess I didn't hear about the whole city being closed yesterday, so I went in to work. When I got in, they sent me home, but I should've just stayed there, I would've been better off."

"What happened?"

"Oh, I fell going back up the steps to my apartment. Twisted my ankle good."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'll live, but I won't be walking on it for awhile."

"So, what, are you on crutches then?"

"Mostly I'm on the couch."

He laughed. "Watching talk shows."

"You've got it."

He thought about her couch and smiled. "Well, do you need anything? Can I bring you something?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I mean you sure don't need to be going out for groceries or anything."

"I'll manage."

Logan considered that for a moment. "Well, okay. If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"But if…"

"Logan!"

"What?"

"I'm fine. Now get back to work before you get fired."

He looked back at his computer screen wishing he didn't have to hang up. "Well, you'll call me if you need anything?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Promise?"

"I promise," she said with a laugh couched in the middle of the annoyed tone. "Now, get back to work."

They signed off, but as he hung up the phone, his gut told him things were not right. He thought about picking up the phone and calling her again, but he knew he would just get the party line about her being fine.

At that moment Elliot walked past his door.

"Hey, Elliot!" Logan yelled, jumping up.

"What?" Elliot asked, stopping.

"I'm going to work through lunch so I can get out of here early."

Elliot shrugged. "Beating the 5 o'clock home. Smart move."

Logan just nodded. He had somewhere to go, but it wasn't home.

OoOoOoOoO

The bags of Chinese food banged against his leg, and he fumbled with the gladiola-carnation bouquet in his other arm as he tried to reach her ring in button without dropping anything. He looked back down the slush-covered steps and wondered about her accident. It wasn't to difficult to see how a person could hurt themselves if the steps were the least bit icy.

"Yes?" her voice on the intercom said, startling him back to reality.

"Rory, it's me."

"Logan? What are you doing here?"

"Can I come up?

"Sure."

He heard the lock click and carefully he pushed through the door. By the time he climbed the flight of stairs, his coat was already becoming uncomfortably warm. It was funny because only the day before he had been so cold he'd thought he would never be warm again.

At her door he knocked and waited a moment before knocking again.

"Just a second!" he heard her call from the other side. "I'm coming."

When the door swung open, he took one look at her and was instantly glad he had come. "You look awful."

"Gee, sailor take me now," she said, hopping backward, each hop sending waves of pain across her face. She gripped the doorknob fighting to keep her balance.

He took one more look at her and walked past her into the apartment. "Where do you want these?" He held up the bouquet.

"There's a glass in the cabinet." Slowly she hopped twice pushing the door ahead of her.

"No vase?"

She shook her head as she closed the door and then hopping over to the couch. "I don't really have a use for one."

"Oh," he said, watching her as she carefully sat down and then gently pulled her leg up to the coffee table. His attention zeroed in on the swollen balloon that at one time had been an ankle. "Jeez, Ace, what did you do?"

"It was really dumb, trust me," she said, leaning aback and closing her eyes as the pain carved its way across her face.

He shook his head, glad that he'd decided to make this trip over to check on her. Not wanting to stare, he walked into the kitchen and rummaged through her cabinets before pulling a tall glass out and filled it with water. "Where are your crutches?"

"What crutches?"

"Your crutches." He set the flowers in the water and brought it back out to the living room where he set the bouquet on her television. "The ones the doctor gave you."

"Oh," she said as she examined the front of her pajamas carefully. "I didn't go to the doctor."

He stared at her in disbelief. "You didn't…Are you kidding me?"

Off-handedly she shrugged, "I didn't really have a way to get there, I mean with the snow and everything."

"So you just didn't go?"

"I'm okay."

However, one glance at her ankle told him she was definitely not okay. "Then we're going to go now."

"Now?" she asked, looking up in surprise. "No, it's not that big of a deal. I'm sure I'm…"

But he had already disappeared down her hallway.

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

It took him only two tries to find her bedroom. "You'll freeze if you wear that. Where are your sweats?" He opened her closet and quickly found a sweatshirt that looked comfortable.

"Logan, you really don't have…"

"Sweats," he said again from the end of the hallway.

"Top, left drawer," she said as the exhaustion and pain echoed through her voice.

"Here you go." He strode back into the living room. "You get changed and I'll put dinner in the refrigerator."

"You don't…"

He turned on her, the concern feeling a little too much like anger. "Change." He waited one more second to make sure she was going to comply and then he turned to the kitchen. Dinner would have to wait.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," he said, bending down to her car door at the minor emergency care clinic, as tiny, new snowflakes wound down around his head.

Her heart was pounding so hard, she had no doubt he would be able to feel it against his chest even through six layers of clothes. "This is silly."

He narrowed his gaze at her and she knew it was useless to argue.

"Fine." Carefully she wound her arms around his neck and like a breath, she felt herself lift from the car seat, and then she was floating. If it weren't for the unbelievable pain screaming through her ankle with every miniscule bounce, this very easily would've been the most perfect moment of her life.

He shifted his hold on her gently before looking down at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said although the sound barely made it past her throat.

Carefully he pushed her door closed and made his way across the parking lot seeming not to even notice her weight in his arms except that his steps were slow and measured as not to jolt her anymore than necessary. The icy patches scattered across the parking lot would've tried the patience of a monk, and yet to Rory it looked like Logan would walk through a minefield of ice patches to get her to that door.

Just as they got to the door, it opened and a small woman with a child's hand securely tucked in her own walked out. She held the door and smiled at Rory knowingly as the crossed in front of her. Embarrassment scorched across Rory's cheeks as she ducked into the scratchy wool of his coat.

At the desk he bent and set her on the ground gently but his hand never moved from around her waist. She wasn't sure if it helped or not because his cologne made her head swim, and when he was this close, it was difficult to think straight enough to keep her balance on a normal day.

"May I help you?" the receptionist asked.

OoOoOo

The clock on the wall wound around to eight as Rory's eyes fell closed, and her head dropped forward. Instantly he laid his arm over her shoulders and pulled her head to his shoulder. Pain can sap the strength out of the toughest of people, and she had been living with this pain for more than twenty-four hours. He thought back to the fun he was having the day before as she sat by herself in her apartment fighting the pain.

She should've called. He would've come over yesterday. Snow or no snow. He would've found a way to get there.

"Miss Gilmore?" the nurse called from the door.

"Ace," he said, wishing he didn't have to wake her up. "Hey, they're ready for you."

Sleep-blurred eyes looked up at him, and he smiled softly. "Come on. Let's get this over so we can go home."

OoOo

Her head felt like it weighed a ton as it fell back against the headrest in his car. She looked back at the pharmacy doors, and one small part of her smiled even as the majority of her berated herself for it. A twisted ankle she could handle, a broken heart was another matter entirely.

He was just being a friend. What had she told him, "That's what friends do for each other"? Well, that's all this was. A friend helping out a friend. That and nothing more.

However, her heart slammed against her chest the second it caught sight of him emerging from the store, ducking his head against the swirling snow, and hurrying across the parking lot. Deftly he opened the car door, stowed the crutches in the backseat, handed her a small brown sack, and slid into the seat.

"Man, it's freezing out there," he said, shaking himself off and then reaching for the starter. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, wishing the aching of her ankle wasn't taking up all her brain power. It would've been nice to have a few extra mind cells available to concentrate on remembering every detail of this dream come true.

They rode back to her apartment in silence, and once there, he helped her onto the crutches and across the parking lot. However, at the steps it was immediately obvious that if left to her own defenses, they would be making another trip to the doctor this evening.

"Here," he said, scrunching his eyebrows together in concern.

"No, I can get it," she said as embarrassment at her helplessness overtook her rational side.

"Yeah, and we'll probably both end up on the concrete." His gaze burned its way through her skull. "Here." He took her crutches from her and squared his body with hers. Gently he lifted her and shifted her only once before he looked at her. "Got it?"

She nodded. It was the only motion other than the jack hammering of her heart that her body could manage. Slowly, carefully he carried her up the steps, into the apartments, and then up the second set of steps. At her door he set her on the floor and kept his arm on her waist to steady her as unlocked the door.

"Here," he said, offering her the crutches, which she positioned and then ducked her head before swinging herself into her apartment.

Not once during the whole ordeal did she picture him following her in once she got back home, but he never so much as looked back down the stairs.

"Why don't you have a seat? I'll get dinner going and get you some water," he said as thought following her in as the most natural thing in the world.

"You really don't have to do this."

"Hey, don't feel too sorry for me, I'm only microwaving." He smiled ruefully. "Now, sit."

Rory sat wishing she had the strength to argue, but the second her body found the couch, she was glad he hadn't left. She heard the microwave whir to life and her stomach turned over. She hadn't eaten more than a few bites all day and her stomach suddenly registered that fact.

"Water," he said, reentering the room and offering her the glass and then opening the bottle of painkillers. "One or two?"

"One," she said, picturing herself passed out on her own couch with him cooking dinner in the kitchen.

He handed her the yellow pill and stood back as she swallowed it and the water. The microwave dinged and he looked back at the kitchen. "Don't go anywhere."

"Yeah, like I might sneak out and go dancing when you turn your back."

His gaze was serious although just underneath it was the trace of laughter. "I wouldn't put it past you." Quickly he turned and went to the kitchen.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she called in annoyance.

"It means," he said returning with the steaming plate of almond chicken in hand, "I can't believe you didn't call me yesterday."

She shrugged as she accepted the plate and chopsticks. "I was fine."

"Fine." He nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, right." He disappeared back into the kitchen only to emerge a few minutes later with his own plate. "Tell the truth, you weren't planning on going to the doctor were you?"

"I don't know. It was icy. Besides how was I supposed to get to my car? Fly?"

An exasperated growl emanated from his chest. "You could've called."

"And ruined your whole day of watching TV?" she asked, forking the food into her mouth. "I figured you deserved the day off."

His laugh sounded heartier than it had in months.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"I wasn't watching TV. I was shoveling walks."

"Shoveling walks?" she asked, choking on a sliver of almond. "You?"

"Yes, me."

She leveled a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

"Me and Brian," he said defensively. "You can even ask him. We worked all day. Shoveled like 30 walks between the two of us."

"Why?"

His shoulders reached for his ears. "Brian did it get his name in good with the people. I did it cause it sounded like something different."

Slowly her eyes narrowed at him. "I can't picture you shoveling walks."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not really into manual labor. I've known you for years and never once have I seen you shovel anything."

"How do you know?"

"You didn't even water the plant I gave you last year 'cause you thought you might get dirty."

Unconsciously he smoothed the tie on his chest. "That's at work."

Outwardly her attention returned to her plate, but inwardly she was picturing him shoveling walks, and she liked the way that picture looked. "So, tell me about this shoveling thing. Brian did the work and you supervised, right?"

"Actually, you would've been proud of me." A smile spread across his whole face, and she could see the pride of accomplishment shining from his eyes. "We started at the hardware store and worked our way around the block and then back around the other block. It was dark and freezing when we got back home, but it was so cool. Brian says during the summer we might start mowing lawns together."

"Mowing lawns?" she asked in disbelief.

"He figures we can get ten at least – to start with anyway."

"To start with?"

"Yeah, we can work at night and on the weekends – at least until he can get enough going that he can quit."

Quit. Somehow she hadn't see that wall until she smashed right into. Her gaze dropped to her plate. "And you?"

"Oh, I won't quit for another couple of years anyway," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Unless things go a lot better than he's projecting." He set his glass down on her end table. "You should see all the stuff he as. Business plans all mapped out, by the day, the months, the year. It's unbelievable."

"I didn't even know you liked lawns."

"Neither did I," he said as his gaze drifted far past her apartment walls, "but it was fun out there yesterday. You never know, I might be a lot happier than doing that than pounding on a computer and answering phones all day."

"Yeah," she said unenthusiastically digging into her rice. "You probably would."

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