Chapter 27----The next installment of this cross-fiction is up, hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading and the feedback.

The flowers showed up at the Brick after she had finished watch the latest cut of the footage that Ed had shot for his film and had returned for lunch. Roses, mixed with some smaller flowers she couldn't quite place, arranged in a vase. She looked for a card.

"Real pretty," Shelli said as she walked on by, carrying a tray of hamburger plates.

C.J. nodded, her eyes taking in their beauty. Orange roses, which were her favorite color because they combined yellow, which meant friendship, with red, which meant love.

"I didn't know they grew up here," she said.

"They don't," Shelli said, "These got shipped in from the Lower 48 and flown in by Maggie this morning."

C.J. pulled one of them out of the vase and held it, taking in its sweet odor.

"I thought I'd find you here," his voice said from behind her.

She turned around still holding the rose and saw Matt walking towards her. She tilted her head at him as he approached.

"Where'd you find these," she asked smiling.

"One of our former clients," he said, "We found his daughter a while back. He owned a nursery."

"They're so pretty…"

"Not as pretty as you," he said, taking her in dressed in her jeans and pullover woolen sweater.

She smiled.

"Thank you for saying that," she said, sitting down at the booth and he joined her.

"It's not that hard," he said, "I've always thought you were a beautiful woman."

Shelli walked by and asked them if they were ready to order.

"There's a pretty mean soup that Dave's whipped up," she said, "vegetable and chicken, with plenty of spice."

"That sounds good," C.J. said.

Matt looked at C.J.

"Is it going to be enough," he asked.

She looked back at him.

"I had a huge breakfast this morning," she said, "The soup will be just fine."

Matt ordered a hamburger and some roasted potatoes and Shelli nodded, leaving them to go to the kitchen.

"So how are things with you," C.J. asked.

"I got most of the paperwork finished and faxed back to Murray," he said, "But whenever I think it's done, he sends another batch."

"He did a great time keeping the company running when you were dead," C.J. pointed out.

"Oh I've got a lot of faith in Murray's business sense," Matt said, "and I know things piled up when I was…dead but I thought when I turned the company over to charity, the workload would decrease."

C.J. chuckled.

"Houston, it's called being the victim of your own success," she said, "You're good at most everything you do."

"Not everything," Matt said.

She winked at him.

"You're good at some very important things," she said, "Trust me."

He smiled.

"I hope one of them is being a good father," he said.

C.J. picked up the emotion in his voice including more than a trace of wistfulness. She reached out for his hand and took it in her own.

"Houston, you're going to be a great father to our baby," she said, "I know that as well as I know anything else."

He looked away for a moment.

"You know my father wasn't there for me as often as he or I would have liked," he said, "but I knew he loved me. I wish he'd have lived long enough to meet his grandchild."

"I barely remember my father," C.J. said, "But I remembered how he took me to the park after school and we'd take some bread to feed the birds and sit on a bench together."

Matt knew that a part of her had never gotten over his sudden death when she had been just a little girl. He had grown up never knowing his mother so both of them knew what it was like being raised by only one parent. If he knew anything, he knew he wanted his child to grow up knowing and being raised by both of his parents. Somehow he understood that C.J. wanted the same thing.

"Houston, I want our child to know that he or she's loved by both parents," she said, "no matter what happens between us."

Shelli brought them their food and they settled down to eat with her words hanging between them. Matt watched her eat her soup, savoring the flavor bringing to her meal the same attitude she felt towards everything in life. The same quality which had attracted him to her as a friend when both were in elementary school and then later when they had reconnected after she returned from law school with her diploma and the will to help him build up his new company.

And then later when they had hooked up in an entirely different way.

"C.J., nothing's going to happen to us," he said, "except that we're going to raise our child together."

She looked at her soup.

"That's what I want Houston," she said, "I would never keep you away…"

"That's not what I mean C.J.," he said, "I want to marry you."

Her spoon made it midway to her mouth.

"Houston, I told you…"

He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"That you don't want me to stay with you out of a sense of obligation," he finished, "That's not why I'm asking."

She rested her chin on her hand.

"Then why do you want me to marry you?"

He paused, looking directly at her.

"Because I've been wanting that since that night we spent together," he said, "It doesn't have anything to do with you being pregnant."

Her eyes stung a little bit.

"It doesn't?"

"No, I just didn't have any time to tell you before I left you that night," he said, "And I didn't know I wasn't coming back."

She nodded, thinking back to that night before he had left her.

"I meant what I told you," she said.

"I know."

She bit her lip and looked away from him.

"You leaving me broke my heart in so many different ways Houston," she said, "I'm still trying to find it."

She thought he might protest her words but he just looked at her in silence and then slowly nodded.

"I know that too."

They had finished eating lunch and then C.J. had gone back to help Ed, stopping at Ruth Ann's store to satisfy a craving, as cliché as it sounded, for sweet pickles. The tiny elongated ones inside those tiny jars filled with briny fluid. She had woken up in the middle of the night and couldn't stop thinking about them. So she figured a jar of them kept nearby would be handy if she ever wanted one.

Ruth Ann just smiled when she found her jar of pickles and put them on the counter to pay for them.

"If you're going to be a pickle connoisseur, you couldn't do any better," she said, approvingly, "Tart, yet the right amount of brine."

C.J. sighed.

"I've been thinking of them since last night," she said, "I probably will start dreaming about them."

"How's Ed doing on his film," Ruth Ann asked.

"It's looking really good," C.J. said, "He made a few more cuts but really tightened the segment with the orchard lady."

Ruth Ann smiled.

"I can't wait to see it," she said, "Everyone's been talking about it."

"Well it's getting there," C.J. said, "But Maurice still has his heart set on that Hollywood style premiere."

Ruth Ann snorted.

"Maurice isn't content with letting Cicely just be Cicely but he's mellowed since he first arrived here."

C.J. chuckled.

"I can only imagine."

"So how did your lunch with Matt go," Ruth Ann asked.

C.J. brightened.

"We talked about a few things," she said, "We both were raised by only one parent and we want our child to have two parents."

Ruth Ann handed C.J. her pickles.

"That's certainly a decision that makes sense for the both of you to want for your child," she said, "but what about the two of you?"

C.J. furrowed her brows.

"I want him in my life," she said, "But I want him to be around to see his child grow up."

Ruth Ann shrugged.

"There's no guarantee that will happen no matter what he does for a living," she said, "Life can be really short or it can be really long. There's just no telling."

"I know," C.J. said, looking at her hands, "I was just so scared for too long when I thought I'd never see him again and he'd never know…"

"But he does know," Ruth Ann said, "and you need to give him a chance to show that he will be there."

C.J. nodded.

"I know," she said, "It's just that every time I look at him, I remember that last time watching him walk to the car after saying goodbye for just a little while and then the car exploding in front of me."

"It must have been awful," Ruth Ann said, "But those memories will fade and be replaced with happier ones if you just let them."

C.J. listened to what the older woman told her knowing that she was right.

Matt drove to Maurice's house to talk to him about a business deal that Murray had urged him to pursue with the ex-astronaut. He had left C.J. after lunch reluctantly but she had thanked him for the flowers and said that she would be joining some of the women for a book club meeting but would be free to see him afterward. Matt didn't begrudge her the time she spent with her new friends, because he knew they had provided vital support to her when she had been alone. He knew that his departure from her several months ago had left its mark on her and that she had tried to move past it but had found it difficult.

He drove up Maurice's impressive drive and parked his car. Maurice let him in the house and they sat in the living room to discuss the restaurant that Maurice had began in L.A. years ago before coming to Alaska. Fortunately Maurice seemed ready to sell it and the discussion had moved on to other subjects, albeit of the more personal nature.

"Do you know how to keep a spirited filly like C.J. happy," Maurice said, cutting to the chase.

Matt sipped the brandy that Maurice had poured for both of them after they had brokered business. Maurice's comments had caught him totally off-guard.

"Not that it's any of your business," he said, "But I've known her most my whole life and I think I know what makes her happy."

Maurice grimaced.

"That girl's got a lot of spunk," he said, "She reminds me of a gal I met while in the military. She was a nurse that I met when I picked up some shrapnel in Korea."

Matt nodded.

"She and I met when we were kids," he said, "We've been through a lot together."

"I'd make a play for her myself," Maurice said, "but for Barbara. Now there's a fine woman."

Matt looked at his brandy.

"She and I just got together only recently," he said, "but we were friends long before that."

Maurice nodded.

"That's often the best way to start," he said, "But you'd better pick it up if you don't want Chris to move in for the kill."

Chris. The deejay and poet who took C.J. out on a coffee date. The man that women in these parts flocked around and followed as if he were some Pied Piper.

"Chris and C.J. are just friends," he said.

"For now," Maurice said, "But Chris has a way with women and they painted a cozy picture last night."

"She had a good time," Matt said, "and that's what matters. It's been a pretty rough couple of months for her and I know how important her friends are to her."

"Chris might be interested in more than friendship," Maurice said, "Of course you can never really tell with him…one moment it's a beautiful woman, the next it's some artistic project."

Matt wasn't too worried about Chris but he wondered why Maurice had brought him up in the first place. He stood up to get ready to go, putting down his brandy glass.

"Look I'll have Murray get back to you with a better quote on the restaurant," Matt said, "It's been interesting doing business with you."

He left Maurice and his discussion about whether or not Chris had made a play for C.J. He didn't think he had anything to worry about it but it was as good a time as any to move forward with the next step of his plan.