Sorry for the wait, guys. I had my massive paper to finish and just couldn't get inspired. And then my computer broke. Hopefully I'll do better next time. I feel like this chapter is longer, though; so that's something. Of course, I could be imagining it, but . . ..
Disclaimer: Yes, I own no TV shows; I own no TV shows today.
Derek awoke slowly, glad it was the weekend. Despite what others may think Derek didn't hate his job, but even the mildly interesting world of media editing got boring after a while. Climbing out of bed, Derek lazed through his morning routine before moving to the kitchen for a late breakfast of cereal. As he ate, he noticed the message light blinking on his machine. Grabbing his bowl, he leaned against the counter and pressed the button, taking another bite as the familiar sound of the automated voice rang out. Moments later another voice replaced it.
"Derek," his dad said, sounding partially aggravated, partially amused. Derek suddenly realized he had forgotten to call. "I know the world of an engaged man can be hectic, but that's no reason to forget your old man. You should come over sometime. I don't want my eldest to loose his sanity this young." George chuckled and Derek rolled his eyes. "Give me a call."
The machine beeped, and Derek deleted the message, dropping his bowl in the sink as he picked up the phone and dialed home. His Dad answered on the third ring.
"Hello?"
"Hey Dad, how ya been?"
"Fine. How have you been? Too busy to call home, apparently."
"I'm calling now," Derek reminded, and George chuckled slightly.
"I assume you got my message?"
"Yeah." Derek ignored the fact that he was supposed to have called first. If his dad was ignoring it, why shouldn't he?
"So when do you want to come out? I figured we could watch a game, maybe order some pizza. You know, have a boys day."
Derek's eyebrow raised. It wasn't that he and his dad never watched a game together, but they usually weren't planned events. "Sure, Dad. What's the occasion?"
"I just thought you could use a break," George replied nonchalantly. Derek rolled his eyes and quirked a grin: his dad wasn't exactly the best liar. "And maybe we could talk a bit," George added casually. So that's it. Man to man talk. Derek shivered slightly. Those were never pleasant. "Wednesday alright?" Derek racked his brain, but knew he didn't have anything planned. He was pretty sure his dad knew, too. Might as well get it over with.
"Sure. But you're buying."
George sighed, but the comment was obviously expected. "You're going to have to start paying for things in a few months, you know."
Derek rolled his eyes again. "Yeah yeah. I've got a while left."
"Wednesday, Derek," his dad reminded.
"I've got it. Later, Dad." He waited for George's farwell before clicking off the phone, making a mental note to write the date down later. He washed out his dish and set it on the counter to dry, wiping his hands on his jeans and going to grab a soda. The front door swung heavily closed as he reached for a drink, and he abandoned his venture for the moment.
"Hey Marti," he greeted, peering from behind the refrigerator door as his sister let herself in. Only Marti had such a distinctive rattling of items when she entered. "What's up?"
"Eh, you know," she said vaguely, bending to grab the keys from where they had fallen to the floor and shoving them in her bag. He closed the refridgerator door and met her at the table. "Practice let out early and I had nowhere to go. Cameron lives out here anyway; he gave me a ride."
"And Cameron is . . .?" he asked, crossing his arms.
She rolled her eyes. "My creepy over-aged boyfriend," she said flippantly, watching him from the corner of her eye and laughing at the look that spread across his face. "No one, Smerek," she said, rolling her eyes. "Is my big brother worried about me?" she teased, sliding into a seat at the table and pulling a To-Go box from her purse.
He felt an annoyed sort of embarrassment rise, choosing to change the subject rather than admit his overprotective urges. "Why didn't you call Nora to pick you up?"
"Well, I would," she told him, setting some cookies on the table and un-wrapping the plastic. "But Dad and Nora are leaving today, remember? Their anniversary weekend?" She said obviously, pulling two sodas from her purse and sliding one across to him. "So I'm staying with Casey while they're off doing things I'd rather not know about." Derek chose not to think about that either. "I have drinks you know," he told her as he popped the top of his soda.
"These are better," she said simply, and he shrugged assent rather than try to decipher how. "Casey had a work emergency this morning, so I thought I'd surprise my favorite big brother with lunch. So here you are," she finished, breaking the lid off the box and dumping half the box's contents into it. "Lunch," she announced, reaching behind her to grab two forks from the drawer and pass one to Derek. He ignored the fact that he had just eaten breakfast and gladly accepted the meal. Cereal wasn't very filling anyway.
"So how are you getting back across town?" he asked with a raised brow. More likely than not, her next sentence would include either his car or his chauffeur services.
"I left Casey a message. Told her I'd need a ride in an hour," Marti responded, digging into her stir fry meal.
"And she's called back how many times?" he asked, shifting slightly in his chair.
Marti's eyes flickered interest, but her voice never changed. "Six. But I've let them go to voicemail. I already know what she'll say anyway. Why bother?" Derek shook his head at his sister's dismissal, wondering how she managed to ignore Casey's anger so easily. He could never seem to pass it up--not that he encountered it anymore. "I called Jennifer, by the way," she added, as if the statement was completely relevant to the topic. "Kendra hasn't asked my opinion since Wednesday," she told him, pleased, as she broke a cookie in half and popped it into her mouth. "She's still insane, but at least she's leaving me out of it." Derek nodded, wondering why he couldn't get the same consideration. "She's pretty cool," Marti added. "Jenny," she explained, causing Derek to raise an eyebrow and attempt to swallow down his food.
"She's insane," he finally said, giving his sister a pointed look.
"She's fun," Marti corrected, ignoring her brother's skepticism. "She came to my practice yesterday and we chilled after; she even let me drive her car," Marti said with a laugh, and Derek couldn't tell if it was from Jenny's naivety or Marti's enjoyment of near death experiences. He rolled his eyes. Figures they would get along.
"It won't happen again, I'm sure," Derek interjected wryly, and Marti shrugged in agreement.
"But it was fun. I commend her for taking the risk. I can't even convince you to let me drive, and you'll let me do anything." He rolled his eyes again. He let her do a lot, sure, but anything was stretching it. It's not like he had no sense of responsibility, even if it was minute. "She called earlier while I was picking up the food. I told her to come over later."
He did a double take. "You told her to come over?" Marti nodded. "Over here?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes."
"Smarti, why?" Derek groaned, irritated. "I want to avoid that woman as much as possible. You don't need to go telling her to come to my apartment."
Marti gave him a look that clearly said he was being difficult; considering she was the baby of the two, Derek somewhat resented it. "Come on, Smerek. Just because she freaked you out last time she dropped by, doesn't prevent her from dropping by again. She had to come over anyway. Kendra wanted her to pick up that stack of magazines she left on your coffee table."
"If she starts pestering me with questions or goes through any sudden mood shifts, I'm kicking her out of here," he warned.
She quirked a smile and shook her head. "Okay," she said plainly. Dropping her empty soda can into her equally empty Styrofoam box, Marti pushed it to the middle of the table. "But you'll have to get used to her eventually. I mean, she will be related to you," she teased.
"She'll be related to me every bit as much as Casey is related to me," he grumbled, ignoring the mental pokes his brain was sending him.
"Then we're all in trouble," Marti said under her breath, low enough that Derek missed it in his distraction.
They both glanced up at the sound of the door swinging open and subsequently shut. Marti stood and to greet Jenny and Derek slumped before pushing himself to his feet. Didn't anyone knock anymore?
Derek was relieved to find that Marti provided enough distraction to deter Jenny from her witch hunt, or whatever it was she had been doing. He was able to stay relatively free from conversation, and what he did engage in had nothing to do with either Kendra or the wedding. Soon enough, Casey arrived; his only guest to actually knock. They all stood and Marti jumped up to answer the door; Derek glanced at the clock, realizing with some nostalgic amusment that almost precisely an hour had passed.
"Marti," Casey began chastisingly as soon as the door was open. "How many times have I told you to keep a schedule? You can't just expect people to cater to you. I was in the middle of something important."
"Sorry, Casey," Marti responded, walking back to sit on the couch and sounding completely unrepentant.
Casey noted this and sighed. "Could you please show a little consideration next time?" Marti shrugged assent, though everyone who knew Marti knew she wouldn't do it, and Casey stepped into the room. Jenny stepped closer, watching her speculatively.
"Casey, hmm?" Jenny asked, quirking her mouth secretively and casually folding her arms.
"Um, yes," Casey responded, slightly confused. She shot Derek and Marti a questioning look; Marti smiled to herself as Derek shrugged. Jenny nodded to herself, perching herself on the arm of the couch and turning to Derek.
"So this is the stepsister?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling, intrigued. Derek pretended he didn't hear the hint of suggestiveness in her tone, instead walking over to drop in to his chair. He was debating whether to answer sarcastically or ignore the question completely when Casey approached, peering closely and looking surprised.
"I can't believe you still have that thing!" she exclaimed, amused disbelief mingling with disgust as she moved around Derek. It took him a moment to realize she was talking about his chair, and he realized with mild surprise that Casey had never been to his appartment. There was no reason to, and neither wanted to spend any time alone with the other.
"It's my chair," he answered plainly as she finished her examination of the old piece of furniture and moved back around to look at him.
"Come on, Derek. That thing has to be as old as your Dad's couch. Didn't Mom and George junk it when you went to school?" Surprisingly, her voice was more amused than admonitory, and Derek felt himself growing more comfortable as he responded.
"They tried to," he said with a snort. "They really should have known better." She raised an eyebrow and he explained, "I got Edwin to save it for me."
Casey shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Through what means of extortion?"
"I resent that," Derek told her, folding his arms across his chest. "He did it out of brotherly duty."
"And fear," she retorted.
"While that may be true," Derek admitted, "I did nothing that could be constituted as extortion."
Casey shook her head, but a small smile formed at the corner of her lips. Catching sight of the occupants of the couch watching them with interest, Casey suddenly straightened.
"Marti, we should go. I brought some things home with me, and I need to finish them tonight." Marti sighed dramatically and rose. Derek glanced at Jenny, wondering how he could make her leave. He was surprised when her eyes darted sideways and she stood as well.
"Why don't I walk out with you? I really should be going, anyways." Without waiting for an answer she slid her purse onto her shoulder and grabbed the magazines from underneath the coffee table.
Casey muttered a quick, "Goodbye," before heading out the door, closely followed by Jenny. Marti trailed them, a smile twitching as she waved goodbye to her brother and shut the door behind her.
Over the next few hours, Derek busied himself with television, email and food to keep his mind occupied. He even resorted to work, sitting at his desk and touching up a few things. He was restless, but he needed to do something. Shortly after the women had left, he had started thinking. That was rarely good, as it often led to realizations he would rather suppress. In this case, he had pondered his brief conversation with Casey; all it's inflection, all it's nuances. It was reminiscent of their old conversations, if less insulting, and Derek had spent the evening doing what he wondered if he'd ever be done with: avoiding memories.
It was a welcome distraction when his phone rang in late afternoon, and he couldn't help but feel relief to recognize Kendra's number.
"Hey, Der," she greeted when she heard him pick up; he could almost hear the smile in her voice, and lifted the corner of his lips in return.
"Hey Kendra," he acknowledged, clicking the mouse to pause his action and minimize the screen. "You at work?" he asked, swiveling away from his computer and leaning back in his chair.
"Yeah, I work late tonight. The boss wants me to rack up hours before we leave in six months." Her emphasis on the date was obviously sarcastic; he chuckled.
"Well, you know how much two weeks off can set you back in the fine world of retail clothing," he added mockingly.
"I know," she sighed. "It's completely nonsensical. But at least she's understanding. I'll make a romantic of her yet," she promised, the cheerfulness in her voice mixed with an undercurrent of determination. He almost felt bad for the woman; once Kendra made up her mind there was no stopping her. "Speaking of romantic . . ." she let the sentence linger, and he raised a brow. "I have plans after work."
"Really?" he asked, interested in what ways that involved him.
"Yes," she said coyly; then her tone shifted to persuasive. "Okay, I know this isn't how you want to spend your Saturday evening, but . . . I want you to come dress shopping." The smile fell from Derek's face and he fought the need to gag. "I'll make it up to you," she added enticingly, but he couldn't bring himself to register the thought.
"Kendra," he groaned. "How could I possibly be helpful dress shopping? Besides," he added slightly more helpfully. "I'm not allowed to see your dress."
"Not for my dress," Kendra explained, and he could practically see her rolling her eyes. "For the bridesmaids. You won't have to do much," she promised beseechingly. "It's just . . . Marti said this thing about the dresses we were looking at. And okay," she conceded, "they were a little Fairy Princess. But Jenny's made a few comments, too, and if you could just come along you could tell me what Marti would like. I mean, everyone else will basically wear what I tell them to." She could hear him sigh in reluctant annoyance and added, "Come on, Derek. It would barely take an hour. I don't get off 'til 7:30, and most of the good boutiques close early. Three stores, tops." She let the silence linger, and he rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. If he didn't go today, he would undoubtedly be dragged on a longer excursion sometime soon. Still he didn't answer right away.
He knew Kendra was getting anxious, so he finally muttered a low, "fine," as he rotated his head back to the wall.
She squealed excitedly, and though the sound in no way made it better, at least she was happy. "Thank you!" she intoned, pleased. "And I swear it won't take long. I'll stop by around 8 and we can take your car."
"Yeah, sure," he said noncommittally, resigning himself to the evening.
"Thank you," she said again, sounding more genuine.
"No problem," he replied feeling slightly bad. He supposed he should be involved in some way, and finding something his sister liked would be an easy if time-consuming task. Nonetheless, rationalizations did nothing to improve his outlook on planning the wedding, and, of all things, dresses.
With a sigh, he returned his mind to the conversation. "See you then," he said as a goodbye, turning back to his computer.
"I love you," Kendra said as her own farewell.
"Love you, too," he added before the reciever clicked in his ear and he absently snapped his phone shut and slid it into his pocket. He had a few hours yet to kill before the inevitable arrived.
No matter how he tried, Derek found he could not concentrate. His earlier thoughts of the past had been replaced with their antithesis. It wasn't so much that he was pondering his future than that he was distracted by it. He was starting to get that feeling again; closed in, pestered, suppressed. That feeling was never good where his ration was concerned. Derek hated feeling like he had no options, and he tended to do anything to avoid it. The last time he felt it in any large quantity had indirectly resulted in most of the difficulties he faced today.
It was before graduation, before everything that happened that summer. Things were always simple between Derek and Kendra: she came to his games, he suffered through the occasional shopping trip and they both worked through a few nothing fights, but they genuinely liked each other. Graduation distorted all of that. Suddenly it was all changes and the future and whether to get serious and what would happen when everyone left. It just wasn't fun anymore, and the fact that Derek had feelings for Kendra started to fade in the face of it. Sure, he liked her; but was it really worth the pestering and confusion and hopes for eternal declarations of love?
It wasn't like it was completely his fault; but in retrospect, Derek could see how his frustrations had taken a part in their breakup.
"Well if you really don't care, why bother?" she demanded, sitting erect from where she had been lounging on the bed only moments before.
"There's a difference between 'not caring' and not expecting too much," he pointed out, aggravated.
"Try, 'having no expectations,'" Kendra argued, staring angrily at him.
"Kendra, you're going off to your whatever-"
"-internship-" she broke in, annoyed.
He continued without missing a beat, "-and I'm going to school. Here. So forgive me for not wanting to wait around for something that's not coming back."
"If you don't want to be chained down, you could just say so," she told him, attempting to make him feel guilty. It worked, a bit, but he would never admit it. "I'm not going away forever and you know it."
"Indefinite and forever are usually related," he argued.
"But you could come with me. Or transfer next semester. Or something."
"Kendra," he said blandly, done with the conversation. "It won't work. It was a high school relationship. It was fun while it lasted, but really. Think about it," she quieted her attempts at interruption to watch him, almost confused. He knew he was over simplifying, but it was easier to get it over with however possible. "We're going different places, we're trying new things, we've never been that serious . . . I'm sorry," he ended with a shrug.
He expected more protests, but they didn't come. She just stared at him, as if she was trying to reason something out. Finally, she sighed. "Yeah. Sucks for us." She drew in a slow breath and gave a shaky laugh. "Bye," she whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek before standing and walking quickly towards the door. He leaned back against the pillows, relief at resolving the drama almost overpowered by a medley of melancholy emotions he would rather ignore. As Kendra pulled the door open and stepped hurriedly into the hallway, Derek was surprised to hear the faint sound of collision. 'Sorry,' was mumbled by two females, one tearful, one embarrassed. Derek glanced up sharply, a flash of blonde fading from his peripheral vision as he locked eyes with Casey. Then she bit her lip, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, and turned on her heel to walk out of Derek's vision.
And that was the easy part. End and beginning, Derek thought with a sigh. What a cliché. It wasn't a horrible breakup, as far as immediate consequences went; but much as he hated to admit it, age and a semblance of maturity had given him a better perspective on action and consequence. Regardless, he knew he didn't want another such experience. He just needed a little reminder of why he was marrying her. Nodding his head decisively, he began the process of shutting down his makeshift office. He glanced at his watch: 4:00. He would just have to meet her a little early.
Derek pulled into the employee lot behind the small boutique and walked around to the front. As he passed the storefront window, he caught sight of Kendra arranging shoeboxes on a shelf. He paused at the door, watching her. He had barely seen her in weeks, as she was planning the event on a limited time frame, and the time he did spend with her were usually distracted moments when she flipped through books and he worked on something. It had been a while since she had been . . . normal. Lately, the everyday things had been ignored. Shaking his head at the sentimentality, he pushed through the door.
Kendra glanced up at the ding of the door, surprised at Derek striding toward her. She set down her boxes and greeted him with a peck on the cheek before satisfying her curiosity.
"Derek, I told you I'd stop by your place. And it can't be seven thirty already." She moved to grab her phone from her pocket, but Derek cut her off.
"It's not. I figured you could ditch work. You know, tell your boss you feel sick or something."
She raised a brow. "Derry, you hate dress shopping. Why would you want to spend more time doing it?"
"Not for dress shopping," he explained, rolling his eyes. "For a date."
"A date?"
"A date," he confirmed. "We can still go shopping or whatever later," he promised when she gave him a look that obviously said he was avoiding something. "But really, Kendra. When was the last time we just . . . had a good time together?"
She gave him a searching look as if wondering what exactly he was thinking before allowing her face to shift into a smile. "Okay," she agreed with a shrug. Looking up at him, she added, "Sounds perfect."
Kendra was unable to convince her boss she was sick as the woman happened to walk into the room before Derek left, but he managed to sweet talk the begrudging manger into letting Kenra leave.
Climbing into the car, Kenra cleared off the seat and settled before turning to Derek. "So, where are we going?" she asked, raising one eyebrow at him as he turned the keys and the engine rumbled to life. "Out," he answered ambiguously.
"Meaning . . .?" she wondered, looking for something more concrete.
"Meaning I'm going to take my fiancée out for a bite to eat and a real activity that has nothing to do with wedding details. And then we can look at dresses," he added easily, knowing she would dislike his avoidance of that element.
Kendra raised her eyebrow and watched him expectantly. "Okay," she said after a moment. He grinned as he let his foot off the break and slid into traffic.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
Yeah, I decided Derek was being a little too harsh to Kendra. It's really just a matter of timing, but I thought I'd cut her a break. Plus it's relevent to the plot. I'm too tired to question my writing. Hope you liked it. Let me know what you think.
