Author's Note: So, I was sitting at my kitchen table the other morning, and was surprised to be staring face-to-face with the saying, 'When it rains, it pours.' Was anyone aware that they put that on Morton salt cans? I nearly fell over with surprise. It was just so random. Anyway! The reviews! Oh, they make me so happy! Maiden-Of-Life, I'm holding you to your promise of cake and brownies! I'm thinking confetti cake with vanilla icing- Hmmmm! I'm glad you all liked chapter sixteen, and don't mind the detour to look at Blair's dad and her relationship. Thank you for reading, and reviewing, I've never gotten such a hugely wonderful response for one story before, and it's absolutely amazing! Here's chapter seventeen, enjoy!

Chapter Seventeen
"Lately I just can't shake it
I count the days in seconds and minutes
Hours and hours are subtle
As shards of glass in the skin
So lay with me
I could use the company
You could help me ease
These bones
Are like maps and keys
Where they took their hits
And they felt those teeth
And there's a story hidden
Underneath
If you dig in deep
Will you find relief?"
-Dashboard Confessional

The morning of Thanksgiving found Dan bitter and cynical, but it had nothing to do with Blair. Upon walking out of his bedroom, he found his father and his sister fighting. A pot of something thick and brown was bubbling over on the stove, unnoticed, and a can-shaped mound of cranberry sauce was leaning precariously in a porcelain bowl, forgotten. Rufus held a wooden spoon in his hand, and he was gesturing with it as he spoke, looking slightly ridiculous. This amusing fact went unnoticed by Jenny, who was so busy looking angry, red in the face, that she probably wouldn't have laughed at anything at that moment. So, Dan slipped onto one of the counter stools, virtually sitting between them.

"How can you even think about doing this?!" Jenny shrieked, hardly noticing Dan.

Rufus laughed incredulously, shaking his head, "It's Thanksgiving- This is what we do-"

"Mom's not here! How can we even pretend to celebrate when Mom's not here!"

"Jennifer," he said, his voice hoarse. "We can't wait on your mother forever- Our lives have to move forward sometime."

She shook her head, looking even more angry, ready to jump out of her skin, "She's not dead!" she shrieked. "She's coming back!"

"I highly doubt that!" Rufus barked, uncharacteristically loose with his temper.

So, the truth was out. Their mother probably wasn't going to come home, and the marriage probably wouldn't be mended. Dan looked at the table, eyeing the grain of the wood, trying to work out that mess that he felt his life was becoming. He had the urge to call Blair, to ask if her mom was home, could they meet at her house, just so he could vent about his mom's leaving, just so he could hear her give him some snarky comment about divorce while playing with his hair- Something- Anything!- To ease this anger toward the woman who had given birth to him. But Blair couldn't be the relief that he wanted, she was in France, she was ashamed of him.

Jenny's chin trembled, and her eyes filled up.

Dan waited.

With one lingering look at Rufus, she turned and stalked to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Rufus sighed, finally putting the spoon down. He looked up, as if noticing his son for the first time, "I'm sorry Dan-"

"Why?" he asked. "It's Mom, not you."

The bitterness was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. How could she leave them? How could she abandon her children without even caring? It was one thing to leave someone you had once loved, but to leave your children, and not even try to call or visit them for weeks at a time? It made him want to clench his fists and grind his teeth. He thought his own mother would be better than that. But, he knew, things aren't always as they seem.

His father turned down the heat on the stove, making the bubbling slop cease its movement. Rufus said, "I didn't know how to go about this," he rubbed his forehead. "With your mom not here- I'm trying really hard to seem like I have it together, Dan, but I'm lost."

"Yeah, you're not doing a very good job of hiding it," he said with a smirk, hoping the sarcasm would ease his dad's confusion, as much as his own.

Rufus nodded, "What should I do?"

"You're asking me?"

His father only stared at him.

What would you do? he asked himself.

You're married to Blair, and you have two kids, he swallowed, feeling his stomach go involuntarily nervous. She left you to take some time to herself in Hudson. The scenario was playing out in his head, making his anger multiply. It's Thanksgiving and she's ditched you all, and you don't know what to do- everyone's falling apart over a holiday and you all just want a definite answer. What do you do, Dan?

"Go to Hudson," Dan said with definition.

Rufus stared at him, "What?" was all he could say.

"Go to Hudson, talk to Mom," he instructed. "You don't have to reconcile, but you need to figure out what the hell is going on, and what's going to happen. If not for yourselves, than for Jenny and me."

For a moment, his father couldn't say anything, only stared at his son, hardly blinking. Then he looked away, his eyes roaming around the room, thought working its way behind his eyes. He walked slowly toward the stove and absently stared into the pot of dormant goo, pensive. Dan only stared at his father, waiting to see what he would do, all the while, thinking about Blair and what would happen if they were in such a situation. He decided that he wouldn't let her get away with it. Even if she had gone to France instead of Hudson, he would go there, and he would talk to her and figure it out. Should I go there now? Dan wondered. Talk to her and figure it out now? No, he shook his head, It's France- You don't have the money for that, you and Blair aren't married, and besides, she's ashamed of you, don't give her the satisfaction.

Suddenly, Rufus turned around, "You're right," he said, nodding. "I'll go to Hudson and figure this all out," he immediately started for the door, but stopped midway. "But it's Thanksgiving- I can't leave you guys-"

"Dad, I don't think Jenny wants to celebrate anyway," he shrugged slightly. "She and I will do something fun- Don't worry."

Rufus hesitated, "Are you sure?"

Dan stared at his father, "Would you like me to buy your train ticket for you?"

"I'll take the hint," he said, grabbing his jacket and wallet from an armchair. "And thanks, son," he said, before leaving the loft all together.

When the door closed Dan sat in silence, the bitterness in him fading slightly. Would Blair leave if they had children together? Could they ever work out that way together? enough to get that far? He shook his head, asking himself why he was asking such heinous questions. Lifting himself off of the stool, he walked over to the bowl of cranberry sauce, picked it up, and slid the wobbly cylinder into the garbage.

He muttered to himself, "Hope you're enjoying France."

Blair woke up before her father or Roman the following morning. A dull headache was pounding in her brain, and her mouth was dry and cottony. Uneasily, she lifted herself up, sitting against the pillows, grimacing. She pulled her cell phone from where it was sticking into her thigh against the mattress, and she flipped it open. Because she didn't have any new messages, she absently flipped through her call log. With a lurch of confusion and anxiety, she noticed she had sent an outgoing call to Dan, at around dinner time in New York. Wincing, she noticed that the call had lasted longer than two minutes, which meant she and Dan had spoken.

"What the fuck did I say?" she hissed in the early morning light of her room.

Her stomach tossed worriedly, remembering her fight with Dan, wondering if she was glad things could end so easily. She wondered if she could just ignore him when she returned and everything would go back to normal, as if they had never been together. I couldn't, she told herself, and then shook her head violently. You're in France to get away from all this shit- Stop thinking about it!

With determination, yet distraction, in her actions, Blair pulled back the covers of her bed and pulled on a sweatshirt from her suitcase. Wearing only socks, shorts, and a baggy sweatshirt, she left the room and crept down the hallway, careful not to wake up her her father, or especially Roman. She descended the stairs and made her way into the enormous kitchen. Fumbling around in the dark, she managed to find a light switch, and the kitchen fell into bright, awkward light. Feeling anxious and annoyed, she stumbled around the kitchen, looking for a bottle of water. She finally found one in a new case in the adjoining back hall. It angered her that she didn't know anything, or where anything was, in her father's new home. It made her even more anxious about her father's relationship, to know that she was so detached from it.

She took a sip from the bottle, until her mouth wasn't so thick and dry anymore, and then she left it on the counter, leaving the kitchen all together.

Wanting to learn a little more about her father's French life, she wandered into the living room, and then to the desk against the far wall. Meador had been sleeping under the desk, but he was now lying awake, staring at her. Silently, Blair walked up to the desk and peered at the papers that were littered across the top. She knew that there was no way the desk belonged to her father, it had to be Roman's- it was too messy.

She was about to stop looking and go back to her room, when a phrase caught her eye.

Legal Adoption

Feeling suddenly cold all over, with her heart pumping angrily, Blair stepped back toward the desk, and snatched the papers into her hand.

Upon closer inspection, Blair found that the papers were really a packet of legal documents and contracts, all pertaining to the adoption from a Hungarian orphanage in Budapest. The nausea felt too close to contain, but she thought of Dan, of how he would think she was just being selfish and unfair, that the papers didn't actually mean anything, so she swallowed hard and dropped the packet. Next, she picked up a different paper, looking for something to distract her. But this paper was about a boy named Franz, from an orphanage in Germany. She dropped this as well, almost like she had been burned, and stomped across the room, slumping onto the couch.

It could just be Dad's- He's a lawyer, she told herself.

It was on Roman's desk.

It doesn't necessarily mean anything.

It might.

She began to chew at her nails, wishing that she had someone to talk to, someone to distract her or make her feel a little better about the situation. As if sensing her unease, Meador shuffled over and put his head in her lap. At first, all she did was look at the dog, cringing at the feel of it's fur on her bare legs. Then she actually placed her hand on his head, and scratched his ears a little. He was trying to be nice- to help her- she wasn't going to deny that when she appreciated the gesture- although she would never openly admit it.

Apparently running away doesn't solve your problems, it only creates new ones.

Brook, Lyne, and Sinker, a classically corny diner that was two blocks from the Humphrey's loft, was smattered with different characters on the national holiday. Two of those characters happened to be Dan and Jenny. Neither teen was really in the mood to celebrate Thanksgiving, or even eat out at a diner with the other person, but they were doing it, because it was a holiday, and because it was too depressing to stay home and sulk. Dan stared at the soup and sandwich in front of him, hardly wanting to eat. He kind of wanted to throw the bowl of hot liquid at the wall. Jenny was picking at the limp lettuce in her salad, looking miserable and restless.

Feeling as if it was his duty as big brother to make things somewhat okay, Dan said, "Jen, I'm sorry things are so shitty today-"

"Save it, Dan," she cut him off quickly. "I know it sucks, but whatever- Don't apologize."

He sat back against the booth, putting his hands up, "Okay."

She looked at him, "Aren't you pissed?"

"No, I actually prefer to spend Thanksgiving in a diner-"

"I mean about Mom," she said, cutting off his sarcasm.

He saw the deep curiosity within her eyes, the longing for someone to know what she felt, to feel the same emotions, to have someone to confide in. With his shoulders slumping forward, Dan sighed.

When he looked up, he said, "I'm mad at her- Of course I am."

"So, how can you go on like nothing's happened?" she demanded, as if none of it made any sense to her.

He shrugged, "I try not to think about it," he bit into his lower lip. "But it's not so much the fact that Mom left us that pisses me off- It's the not knowing what the result will be."

She looked at him.

"Is she coming home, or isn't she?" he shook his head as he said it. "She's keeping us suspended here, between this limbo of doting mother and divorce and that's what gets me."

Jenny's chin quivered slightly, "Do you think they're going to get a divorce?"

"I don't know," he said softly, his voice rough and weathered. "If it means that Mom will finally be honest with us and stop fucking around- Than I hope they do."

"How can you say that?" she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Our family would break apart!"

He paused, shaking his head, "Jenny, if our parents aren't meant to work out than they're not meant to work out- We've been fine with just Dad all these months."

"You've been fine!" she hissed. "Dan, I need a mom!"

"Jenny," he tried to explain. "She's not going to be out of our lives- You'll still have Mom- Things will just be different if they decided to break up."

She looked miserable, sitting there, ignoring her salad, and she said, "I hope things work out."

"Yeah," he said, hardly referring to his parents anymore. "Me too."

Blair and Harold were kicked out of the kitchen after they had finished making their pumpkin pie. Roman wanted to work on the things they had kept ruining, without them under his feet the whole time. So, deciding that they could spend some quality time alone, Harold insisted that they go for a walk, and he'd show Blair around the property. She was not looking forward to it in particular. After sitting in the living room with Meador for some time that morning, Harold had come downstairs, ushering her into the kitchen for breakfast. He had made her an omelet, with onions and cheese, peppers and bacon, talking to her, on and on, about what he planned to do with the gardens and the vineyard once summer came around. She hardly listened to him, giving him one word answers as she tried to eat her food slowly. Again and again, he asked her if she was okay, and repeatedly, she told him she was fine. Then, after finishing four pieces of toast and the omelet, the thought of adoption made her so anxious that she felt her stomach toss, and the food rise. Telling her father she had to pee, she raced from the kitchen and made it into the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom, finding herself hunched over the toilet, heaving desperately.

Now, as they walked behind the house, around trees that grew, bent and stark, along the frozen dirt of the November ground, Blair tried to keep from running away. She had always been close with her father, loved him with all her heart, but it was hard for her to even walk beside him, when she was so close to this new life of his. She couldn't deal with the fact that he had this new house, had this new lover, she couldn't bear the thought of him adopting a child, a child that he would raise with a man. How could she deal with sharing her father, especially when he was across the Atlantic?

When the house was a fair distance away, and they had been walking in a ten minute silence, Harold spoke, "You're awfully quiet."

"Yeah," was all she said, by way of a reply.

"Blair," he put his arm around her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

She wriggled out of his grasp, feeling restless, "Nothing."

He slowed his pace, looking at her.

"What?" she snapped, annoyed.

Harold shook his head, "Don't tell me nothing's wrong, Bear," he stopped walking all together. "What is it?"

"I'm fine- God!" she tried to stomp forward, but he didn't follow her. She whirled around, staring at him expectantly.

"Blair," he began, walking up to her, stroking her hair slightly. "You woke up early, you ate a lot at breakfast, and then you disappeared into the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes-"

She cut him off, "So?!"

"Don't tell me you weren't making yourself-"

She whipped away from him, taking a step back, "Jesus! You and Mom are never going to trust me around food or a bathroom ever again, will you?"

"I have a right to be worried, Bear-"

"Don't you 'bear' me!" she said, her voice cracking under the weight of tears and anxiety.

He looked at her strangely, as if he couldn't figure out where any of her anger or hostility was coming from. This only made her even more angry, as if he should know, as if he should be able to guess. Blair was fuming, and her father could tell, just from the way her lips were pursed, her eyes unwavering and wide, and her nostrils flaring with angry breath. The air between them was charged with tension, vibrating with silence. She wanted to lash out at him, and she was sure she would, but for now, all she did was stare at him, waiting. The cold air around them was visible by the steam that filtered before them every time they breathed. And as they stood there, under a tree with a crooked trunk, Blair realized how much she wanted some peace of mind.

Her father's voice sounded so hurt, so broken when he spoke, that her emotional barrier cracked, "Where is this coming from? What's gotten you so angry?"

She didn't lash out at him, only stared.

"There's no room for me in your life anymore," she said quietly, her voice shaking. "You're trying to cut me out-"

"Blair," he took a step forward, but she took one back. "That's not true."

She shook her head, "I feel- I feel as if your whole life with Mom was something you hated- Like you never wanted to be in New York, never wanted her, never wanted to work where you did, never wanted me..." she trailed off.

He didn't say anything, only looked at her, regret and heavy sadness clear on his face.

"It's like you've transplanted yourself into a new life- Like you want to get rid of everything for good."

With a genuinely worried voice, Harold said, "Blair, I don't regret my life in New York," he reached out to her, but pulled away when he saw her flinch. "I'll admit, I wasn't living the life I wanted, but I was happy with you and your mother."

"Not happy enough to stay," she mumbled.

He sighed, "I found a man I loved, and I felt that I couldn't deny myself what I knew anymore," he tried to smile. "If I could have Roman and you and your mother all live under one roof, happily, than my life would be complete."

She stared at him, realizing just how ludicrous the very idea sounded.

He chuckled, as if reading her mind, "That's not possible- I know-"

"But you left us," she shook her head. "How could you want to be with all of us?"

With bravery in his movements, he took her shoulder in his hand, "I love your mother- Not in the way a husband should love a wife, but I love her," he shrugged. "She's my best friend, and it kills me that I hurt her- That I hurt you- but I was killing myself living that life. I thought it was only fair if you knew the truth."

Blair didn't respond, only looked at him, trying to make sense of everything, trying to figure it all out.

"I'm not trying to replace everything, I'm just trying to start over for myself," he told her, moving his hand to stroke her cheek fondly. "I still want you and your mother in my life-That will never change- I could never replace either of you."

The fear and anger bubbled up inside of her.

Faintly, almost in a whisper, she said, "But I saw the adoption papers on the desk in the living room."

His shoulders fell, and he sighed.

"You're going to adopt- With Roman?" her voice warbled as she asked the question. "Replace me with some foreign kid-"

"Blair, don't jump to conclusions-"

She cut him off, finally lashing out, "You move out here to France! You and your lover buy yourselves a fucking vineyard! And now you're adopting some kid from Russia or whatever?!" she shook her head, stepping away. "Don't tell me you're not trying to change and replace everything you had! Don't tell me I'm jumping to conclusions!"

"Blair," he said sternly, giving her a serious look. "Listen to me."

Without looking at him, she stayed silent.

He continued, "Roman was looking into those adoptions- I don't want to adopt a child with him yet, I'm not ready," he told her. "Roman is eager to adopt because he doesn't have any children of his own, but I have you, and I'm happy."

She swallowed.

"Maybe one day Roman and I will adopt," he shrugged. "But if we do, it will because I want a child with him, not because I'm trying to replace you."

A cold wind blew between them, and Blair shivered.

Harold pulled her into a tight embrace, "I could never replace you," he whispered. Then, teasingly, he said, "Even if I wanted to replace you, you'd be too stubborn."

She laughed a little against his chest.

After a long pause, he said, "I don't know if your mother is ready to get along with Roman and I yet, so we can all be friends again, but, I'm hoping you will be able to pass this weekend without feeling strangely about it," he slowly rubbed her back. "Roman is a good man, and he is so eager for you to like him."

Blair laughed a little, finding the beautiful Frenchmen, like a dog or a small child, trying to win her approval. She hadn't noticed it before, but he had been quite attentive to her every need, had tried to joke with her and take her side when having conversations with her father. He had even tried to coax her into learning some lines from Breakfast at Tiffany's in French, even though she basically knew them already. He wasn't trying to steal her father away at all. Sure, Roman was in love with Harold, but he knew Blair was his daughter, and he wanted her to like him, to approve of him. Roman just wanted them to get along, like her father did.

"I'll give him a chance," she said lightly, jokingly.

He grinned, kissing her on the head, "Thank you, Bear," he squeezed her tight. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered.

And they stood their, enjoying a hug that had been long overdue, finishing a conversation that needed to be had. And now that the air was lighter, Blair was sure she'd be able to relax and enjoy her stay in France, without worry or anxiety at her throat anymore.

Dan was sitting in his room, in silence, staring at an unfinished, scratched out poem of nonsensical words, when he heard a knock at the door.

He turned and called, "Yeah?"

Rufus walked into the room slowly, closing the door behind him. Slowly, he walked over to Dan and sat down on his bed, his movements slow and measured. It almost seemed as if he was too tired, too emotionally drained to walk at a normal pace, so he had to do it all slowly. When he was seated, he sighed, rubbing his chin a little, and he looked at Dan.

"I spoke with your mom," he said.

Dan waited.

His father continued, "We thought about working it all out- But, we've changed, things have changed," he explained. "I think we'll be getting a divorce," he said, looking away from his son for a moment.

"Oh," Dan replied. "Have you told Jenny?"

Rufus looked surprised that Dan was so nonchalant about it all, but he said, "N-No, not yet- I think I'll take you both out to dinner tomorrow and-"

"Dad," he cut him off. "You'd be better off just telling her now- She deserves to know."

With finality, but a slowness, in his actions, Rufus nodded, and then finally stood up and left the room. When he was gone, Dan closed his notebook and hunched over to his bed. He nearly collapsed, face-first, into his pillows and rumpled sheets. The world felt like it was spinning around him. Sure, he had been expecting his parents to break up, but now that it was officially announced he couldn't help but feel a little affected by it. And how would this change things for the family? Would he have to live between his two parents? Would he have to change schools? Would he have to live with his mom in Hudson? He couldn't leave the city, his school, his friends- Blair.

When her name entered his mind, he froze, punching the pillow below him, wishing everything was simpler.

Author's Note: Sorry it's been a while between updates, just finished school and there was drama with finishing a final and not going in one day- Whatever. Hope you liked the chapter! I'll try to have the next one up sooner! Reviews are always adored.