Hi guys! Here is chapter 4! I hope that it is okay. I didn't have the opportunity to do a lot of editing. It's actually a small miracle that this even got written at all. It's the first week of a new school year (I am a school teacher) and I am honestly barely "staying afloat" at the moment! Anyway, I hope that you guys enjoy this bit. Please let me know what you think, or hell, just leave some encouragement! Thanks again for reading!
Opie did not manage to make it home for dinner. It was after ten when he finally rolled into his own neighborhood. Lila was probably going to be pissed at him, but he couldn't have helped it if he wanted to. Gemma had kept him at her house for hours and hours; not only forcing him to stay for dinner, but drinks as well. Then, he had watched and listened as went over paperwork and shop business and discussed who to hire and all sorts of other shit. He definitely appreciated all of her help with the paperwork, and he could tell that the company did her some good. Gemma had been like a mother to him when his own mother had left all those years ago. Opie might have promised Lila he would be home for dinner, but he couldn't in good conscience just drop in for ten minutes and then leave Gemma on her own again. He owed her way too much for that.
Still, he had no idea whether or not any of that would matter to Lila, who had been home, basically alone, with three kids for more than a week. She had gone from an independent, single mother of one to a full time mother of three in a very short amount of time. That was enough to make even the best mother completely insane, and though Lila tried hard, she was far from 'best mother' material. Sure, she cooked and cleaned his house and got his kids to school and everything, and he really did like her a lot, but at the end of the day she was still a porn star with a not so distant drug habit. His cell showed that he had missed six calls from her over the course of the day, so his best guess was that he was in at least a bit of hot water.
He parked his bike in the garage and was not at all surprised to find the house dark. It had been dark when he returned home every night for the past week. Though it was after ten, this was earlier than he had been coming home lately, and he had half hoped that Lila would be awake, but it looked as if the house was asleep. Maybe that is for the better, he thought. Maybe this fight can wait for another night.
Opie walked out of the garage and into the house, letting his hand brush against the door frame, marked in pen with heights and dates and initials. He entered the kitchen and was very surprised to find that everybody was not, in fact, already in bed. Lila sat alone in the dark at the kitchen table, half empty bottle of cheap wine and a plastic Hot Wheels cup on the table in front of her. One look at her and Opie knew that he had been correct in his assumption that she would not be very happy with him.
"Hey," he muttered, deciding to play it cool as he walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Kids asleep?"
She gave a hollow laugh. "It's 10:30 on a school night. Of course the kids are asleep."
"Good," he said, because really, what else could he say?
She picked up her cup and drained it, before refilling. "You didn't answer any of the times I tried to call you."
An automatic I know almost came out, but he held himself back. "Yeah, I was in Stockton this morning, then I had to deal with some Club stuff the rest of the day."
"I see," she said simply, before she fell quiet.
The two of them sat that way for a few minutes, and the silence was maddening. Lila wasn't drinking her wine and she wasn't saying anything, but the way she was looking at him had Opie on edge. It was as if she was staring right through him, and she could see every single thing that was wrong with him, and he just wanted her to fucking stop looking at him like that.
"Are you going to say anything else, or can I just go to bed?" he asked, irrationally hoping that she would just agree to drop this.
Instead, her eyes narrowed slightly with disgust and she shook her head, "You can be such an asshole sometimes, you know that?"
It was his turn for a humorless laugh. "Yeah, I really do."
Opie knew that he should say something or do something to fix this. He liked Lila, a lot. She didn't deserve to be treated like shit. He wanted, needed, this to work. Lila had been there for him at a time when he thought he wasn't going to make it. He was a single father with two children, his mom had bailed again, his dad was drunk all the time, and he literally hadn't been able to count on anybody else. Lila had come along and changed that. She had stuck around, for him and for his kids, and that meant something to Op. Right now, though, he felt like he was running on fumes, and he didn't know if he had enough to keep even himself on the right track, much less the two of them.
Still, there were things to be said. He was trying his best to string some word together, to thank her, to tell her that he appreciated her dealing with all of his shit. Hell, at this point, he would say almost anything to get that look off of her face. The words never came though, because just then, they noise of a door opening and feet rushing across the hall echoed through the kitchen. Lila sighed and quickly stood, abandoning her plastic cup of wine.
"What's going on?" he asked her, just before she could leave the kitchen.
She turned back to him and sighed. "Some kids in Kenny's class were making fun of him today. They told him that he had a ghost for a Mom, and he started crying. He told his teacher that he was crying because he was sick and wanted to go home, so she sent him to the clinic. While he was sitting in the clinic waiting for me to come pick him up, he must have actually picked something up, because he has been puking since about 3:00. Also, while I was at the school, the principal thought it might be a good time to let me know that Ellie is failing the fourth grade because all she does is draw pictures of unicorns all day, instead of reading and doing math and shit like that."
Opie wasn't really sure how to respond to any of that, so he just stared at her, trying to process all of this information. They locked eyes for a moment and he saw just how exhausted she looked. Before he could speak up and tell her to go to bed and let him handle things, the retching sounds resounded through the kitchen. "There are some leftovers from dinner in the fridge if you are hungry; Kenny didn't want to eat his. I am going to go handle this and then go to bed. Good night, Op."
When she made to leave the kitchen this time, he didn't stop her, even though part of him wanted to. Part of him wanted to hug her and tell her to go get some rest. Part of him wanted to go comfort and take care of his son down the hall. There was a part of Opie that still wanted to be the good husband and good father he knew he could be. That part of him was smaller than the part that just wanted to sit here in the kitchen and feel sorry for himself, so the good part never got to win.
His eyes once again caught sight of the door jamb, where the growth of his family was marked, inch by inch. He remembered the Donna marking the door from the time Ellie could manage to stand up on her own, and he could clearly picture the small, childish unicorn tattoo Donna wore on her right ankle. He couldn't let his eyes linger on the memory, so instead he got up and stuffed the leftovers into the microwave, even though he wasn't at all hungry. As he waited for the food to heat, he hoped beyond hope that wherever Donna was now, she couldn't see what he had become in her absence.
Chibs knocked softly on Tara's door, very cognizant of the fact that a baby lived in this house, and there would be hell to pay for waking the child. He had meant to come by and see Tara much earlier than 8:00 PM, but time had gotten away from him. He had managed a few hours of working on his bike, plus a bit of much needed laundry, before Fiona called, much to his delight. She had more than delivered on each of her earlier promises, and by the time they hung up, he had even more laundry to do. He should have come to check in on Tara then, but he couldn't bring himself to go play with a wee baby after a phone call such as that, so he showered thoroughly and made himself dinner before he went over, figuring that enough time had passed and he would be able to focus on Tara and Abel, rather than the words of his wife.
The door swung open and the sight of Tara almost startled him. She looked completely and totally..not like the doctor he knew and loved. She was dressed in what appeared to be the oldest pair of pajama pants in the world, along with one of Jax's SAMCRO t-shirts, decorated with a streak of what might be vomit on the left shoulder, and he barely resisted the urge to ask if it was hers or Abel's. Her hair was thrown up in a quick, lopsided pony tail that was utterly failing. The hair that had escaped looked to contain bits of whatever she was trying to make Abel eat. To say that she looked rough would be a definite understatement.
"Chibs," she said, and she looked surprised to see him and a little bit embarrassed too. "I'm sorry, did I know you were coming?"
He knew that he probably should have called. "Hey Doc. No, you didn't. Just thought that I would stop by and check on you."
"Oh," she said, her posture relaxing just a bit upon realizing that she hadn't, in fact, screwed up. "Come on in. Sorry that everything is a little bit of a mess."
He walked into the house, squeezing her shoulder. "Not to worry, Doc. I spend most of my time at the Club house. I am used to a bit of a mess."
She laughed a little bit at that and shook her head. Chibs followed her through the living room to the kitchen, where Abel was strapped in his high chair, smearing some awful looking neon orange colored baby food all over the tray. Tara sighed wearily upon seeing the boy.
"Come on Abel, I think you're done with this food for tonight," she said, grabbing a damp cloth and lifting the tray off the high chair. "I left him alone for one minute, and this happens. I swear, he is just like his father. Help yourself to a beer, if you want."
He smiled and did exactly that. Abel was not in any way happy about losing his 'dinner', and made his protests well known. Tara did her best to calm the boy as she cleaned him up, whispering soothing words that Chibs was almost sure the kid couldn't hear over his own screams. Once she finished wiping him down, she made him a bottle of apple juice and only then did the crying stop. Chibs watched in both sympathy and wonder. He could actually quite vividly remember what it was like to have a wee baby at home, but he was almost sure that Kerrianne never screamed that much, and besides, he always had Fi around for the hard stuff. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Tara was doing this on her own.
"You look like you could use this more than me," he said, offering her his mostly full beer.
She laughed, but shook her head. "Can't," she said, wistfully. "Pregnant, remember? In a few months, I will have another one of these running around."
"Yeah," he said, taking note of the strained sound in her voice. "You are doing great though, Doc. I mean it."
"I am glad that one of us thinks so," she smiled at him. "So, who sent you by? Opie, or Gemma?"
He should have known she would guess. "Neither, actually," he told her. "Went by and saw Jackie-Boy today. He asked me to stop in and check on you."
That definitely caught her interest, she straightened up, eager for fresh news. "How is he doing?"
"Well," Chibs started not quite sure what to say. "I suppose he seemed like he was doing okay, under the circumstances."
"Good," Tara said, nodding as if she were trying to convince herself. "That's good."
"Yeah, they are all sticking together and taking care of each other in there," Chibs told her. "He mostly asked about you and Abel. Wanted to make sure we were taking care of you."
That brought a real smile to her face, although it he wasn't mistaken, her lower lip was trembling. He was decidedly uncomfortable in the presence of crying women, but if anybody deserved a bit of a cry, it was probably Tara. She had been dragged through a lot of shit, and now here she was, alone, with an Old Man in prison and a kid and a half.
"I'm glad he is okay," she said softly, thankfully holding back any tears. "I know I should go visit him, but I am not sure if I can see him in a prison jumpsuit, behind bars, without turning into a sobbing mess. I figure I will give it a couple of weeks and let the hormones calm down first."
"That's probably a good idea," he said in agreement. "Whenever you are ready, you let us know. We'll take you out there. I know he would love to see you."
"Okay," she said simply, before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I really miss him, you know?"
"I know, Doc," he replied, taking a swig of his beer and thinking about his own missing half. "I really do."
Their conversation was interrupted by Abel, who was beginning to whine again. Tara sighed heavily, "He should be asleep by now. He still isn't used to being back home yet."
"Shit, I'm still not used to being back stateside yet," Chibs complained. "He will get adjusted before too long, don't you worry."
"I sure hope so," Tara said, adjusting Abel slightly in an attempt to comfort him.
Chibs looked around, feeling useless once again. The feeling was becoming more and more familiar to him, and he really hated it. He glanced back at Tara, before he spoke again. "Can I do anything for you, Doc? Anything at all to help?"
She sat up a little straighter, and bit her lip. He could tell that there was something she wanted to say, and he was glad when she broke down and spit it out, "Actually, I would kill for a bath. Do you, um, mind watching Abel for a few minutes?"
That surprised him, but it shouldn't have. Tara's every spare minute was spent with a tiny, needy person. If an hour or so alone was what she needed, he could give that to her. Besides, he liked Abel. "Of course I can watch Abel. As long as he doesn't need his nappy changed, we will be fine. Hand him over."
A huge grin broke out across her face. "Thank you so much, Chibs. He is clean and dry and he shouldn't give you any trouble at all."
"Of course he won't," Chibs replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
"If he cries, just give him his pacifier," Tara instructed, handing the boy over. "And, um, maybe try reading to him?"
"Reading, huh?" Chibs asked. "If he a literature buff already?"
"Not really, but I guess after his little Irish vacation, he just got used to the accents. I think it comforts him. We've been watching a lot of BBC lately, to put it mildly," she said, quite seriously.
"Makes sense," Chibs said. "I can't promise a passable Irish accent, but Scottish might do. I will try my best."
"Thank you again," she told him, and she surprised him with a hug. "I shouldn't be too long."
"Take all the time you need," he argued as he returned the hug and then shooed her from the room, glad that he was able to help out in some small way.
Once she actually left, he and Abel made their way to the living room. He looked down at the wee boy in his arms, who already reminded him so much of Jackie-Boy. "Alright lad," he said softly, looking around the room. "What'll it be? The New England Journal of Medicine?" blank stare "No? Too dry? How about Sense and Sensibility?" another blank stare "Yeah, too gay. I guess we are going to have to go with the old Harley parts catalog."
That actually got a gurgle and a toothless grin from the boy, so Chibs picked up the selection and parked himself in the recliner. He held Abel against his chest, and the boy listened with rapt attention as he read aloud, page after page, detailing different engine part offerings. The longer he read to the lad, the more clear it became that the boy was a Teller, through and through.