Gibby slammed the phone down, picked it up, threw it through a window. He collapsed on the couch. Carly knelt there, all question marks and knitted eyebrows. With his face in his hands, he explained. His baby sister was in the hospital. They said her heart wasn't strong. He couldn't go. Mid-terms. That internship. Work. No money for the plane ticket back to Washington. Nothing he could do but sit at the incubator anyway.
And she might not even make it to the morning.
An angry and broken Gibby needed someone strong, but Carly never felt so helpless and weak.
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The sky looked sad. On the way, Spencer said it was the appropriate weather for these things. Carly didn't think so. She would have appreciated some sunshine, some unexpected wildflowers around the bend in the road; something nice, life affirming. She found Gibby with his brother—Gup was getting tall. Twelve already? No way. His mom was as expected, but glad to see them, even Spencer.
The coffin was tiny. Heartbreaking. The stone read Baby Grace Gibson.
Thunder in the distance, a flash, rain; Gibby draped a heavy arm around Carly's shoulders, whispered to the sleeping stone lamb, "Bye, Sis."
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He loved every inch of Carly, but he loved her lips the most. Whenever he needed something to hold onto, his lips held hers eagerly and she let him in, in every single way he could be, let him disappear into her. Then came the softly spoken words riding on her breath through those lips, the comforts, the promises, the things that made his back tingle and his breath catch.
No matter how many times she told him, it always felt like the first time, felt like it couldn't be real because she was too wonderful.
She loved him back.
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He let himself into her apartment with the key she'd given him. She was taking a shower. He knew she would be—like clockwork. He pulled the rubbery spider from his pocket. It was hairy and as big as his face, and so real looking it'd freaked him out on the store shelf. He slipped into the bathroom. Smothering laughter, he lowered the spider over the curtain rod and let it dangle by fishing wire. He didn't have to wait long.
She screamed. Then she was naked, slippery in his arms. He laughed, carried her out to the bed, "Gotcha!"
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Sam's newest boyfriend knew a guy who could get the show a fully trained monkey. His name was Oscar. He was sweet and so was Gibby. So it was surprising when they didn't get along.
At first, no one believed Gibby that Oscar had it out for him. A hidden camera proved it, got some hilarious footage for the show at the same time. Oscar was too popular to let go, even if Gibby might be scarred by the monkey's ruthlessness.
The monkey's or Sam's? Oscar didn't buy that thing himself!
It was just a little blow torch, Sam defended.
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Why? Gibby asked, What did I do?
Nothing! Whoa, this was harder than she thought. But she'd made her decision. There was a big world out there with a lot of people in it and sometimes, if Carly was brutally honest with herself, she wanted to see it. Not that Gibby wasn't a blast. Not that she wasn't perfectly happy.
Why go, then?
She was afraid of thirty years from now, when she looked back… She didn't want any regrets. Just for a year, she promised. He gave a forced smile, nodded.
It lasted six months.
"God, I missed you!"
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Carly ditched her carry-on to gain speed, met Gibby air-born, thank god he didn't fall down. She wrapped all her limbs around him. People in the airport were staring. Let them. This was a miracle, oughta be witnessed. The miracle of Carl Shay seeing the world and still choosing Gibby. He'd had himself convinced she'd prefer New York City and Italian underwear models. But now, her lips—God, her lips—were on his. Home.
Sam snorted nearby, took a picture on her phone. Not for devious reasons. She just thought it'd be nice for them to have the moment recorded.
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He was graduating. It was time to pick a city and find a job. She could do the show from anywhere, where did they want to live? Seattle was their home, dripping and familiar. They'd been away long enough.
Apartment hunting, the stress and competition, brought out the worst in her but landed them with a sweet deal, space for her to do the show in, and extra room for "an office or whatever." He grinned, asked her to please be patient with the "or whatever" part. Other stuff would come before that, anyway.
"Want you to myself for awhile."
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Gibby was nervous before his interview. Carly rubbed his shoulders, straightened his shirt.
"You're exactly what they need. They'll see that," she kissed him on the cheek, rubbed off the lip-gloss left behind. He went in. Carly waited at the zebra exhibit, couldn't help but laugh when they bleated, wondered if they were white with black stripes or black with white stripes. Gibby would know. That was why he was perfect for this job.
He was the vet they were looking for. Seattle Zoo hired him. They had an awesome apartment, time still to do the show. Everything was perfect.
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…Patty-cake Patty-cake: the elaborate hand games never got boring. They were the only couple in Seattle who could do fifteen different routines flawlessly, one after the other, super-fast...
…or word-games. The refrigerator kept Scrabble scores on the front, not just pictures….
…or planning iCarly together…
…or pillow talk…
…TV just wasn't a major past-time. Wasn't like they didn't have cable (they were actually wasting money paying for it) and it wasn't like they didn't try to get sucked into the same shows all their friends wanted to talk about. It was just easier to get distracted by their own things.