Chapter Two: Unanswered Questions

I felt the wry smile I frequently had for any given situation form upon my lips as I stepped into my apartment, an unfamiliar number with a Chicago area code appearing upon the caller ID upon my phone's screen. Swiping the green phone icon, I brought it up to my ear, hesitating for a moment, even though I knew perfectly well who was waiting on the other end. Finally, I inhaled and permitted myself to break the ice.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me, Lip," said the voice on the other end.

"Hey, Lip. Long time," I joked, reaching down and taking off the ankle boots that Kevin had insisted I wear, based on their description alone. "What brings you to my phone?"

"Well, you did just give me your number," Lip replied as I bent to pick up my boots and walked down the hallway of my unit with them. "I mean, if it's a bad time..."

"No," I interrupted him, shaking my head, and inwardly cursing myself because I soon realized he wouldn't be able to see that. "It's fine, really," I told him, placing my shoes in the rack I'd positioned on the back of my door. "How are you?"

"Still walking home," he told me as I put him on speaker so that I could get out of my outfit and into a tank top and shorts to sleep in. "But I do want to ask you something..."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, finding the sleep outfit I wanted and tossing my work clothes into the hamper at the base of my bed. "Ask me what?"

"Do you maybe want to get dinner or lunch or something sometime?" he asked.

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing at his informality of it all, although I could detect the fear of rejection behind his voice—minor in psychology, don't judge. "As a matter of fact, I just so happen to love getting dinner, lunch, or something," I tell him.

Lip laughs on the other end of the phone; I finish changing and take him off of speaker, plugging it into the charger upon my nightstand, maneuvering myself onto my stomach so as my phone could charge adequately. "So, I take it that's a 'yes'?" he asked.

I nodded, hissing, Dammit Davies, under my breath at my nodding. "I'd love to, Lip," I told him, knowing that it was likely that he could tell I was smiling from the tone of my voice. "I'm singing at The Alibi again tomorrow night—got to make some extra cash before my day job starts up officially..."

"Do you know when you start?" Lip wants to know.

"About a month," I reply. "Originally, I wasn't due here for another two weeks, so there was a bit of scrambling on the landlord's end—he's not too happy with me at the moment, me getting here several days early. But, I told you what happened between me and my mom, and, well, I just had to get out of there..."

"I get it," Lip tells me. "At least I had an older sister to step in and take all of us. Our mom left us and our dad... Well, he preferred the inside of a beer bottle than to any of us."

"That's terrible," I found myself saying. "But, I mean, Fiona sounds great. Always wished I had an older sibling, but it was just me. After my dad left, and my mom got remarried pretty quickly, her new husband worked all the time and she was always with the boys... She even enrolled me in summer school so that she, her husband, and the boys could take family vacations," I told him, and Lip made a noise of disgust on the other end of the phone. "But I did manage to skip three grades because of it, and by the time I turned thirteen, my mother couldn't be bothered to arrange summer plans for me. Had I been older, I would've likely started drinking or smoking pot or throwing wild parties. But I just sat there, surrounded by books...or with Jessica."

"Jessica?"

"The closest thing I had to a friend back home," I explain. "She had a big, close-knit family who always were inviting me to things. I got the feeling, at first, that they felt sorry for me, but they eventually just kept asking to the point where I felt like I belonged. It's a strange thing—a sense of belonging—you know?"

"If you're not used to it, sure," Lip replied, and I hear talking in the background. "Oh, hey, Ian," he says, and I immediately remember it is one of his brother's names. "Listen, my brother's home from work..."

"No problem," I reply. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll come tomorrow night—hey, maybe I can persuade Ian to come," he said, and I hear Ian muttering a sarcastic, 'Fuck you' in the background, all directed at Lip.

I laughed. "That sounds fun. Meeting new people is becoming my forte," I tell him. "It was really nice to meet you tonight, Lip."

"It was even better saying goodbye," he replied. "I've never had a goodbye like that, from someone I just met before."

"The fuck did you two do?!" Ian demanded in the background.

"Hi, Ian," I said, trying not to laugh.

"Scarlett says 'hi'," Lip informed his brother. "He says 'hi' back. Okay, I'm not going to bother you anymore tonight."

"You're not a bother," I assure him—he really wasn't. "But I should probably get some sleep soon, because I don't need to show up looking like I'm thirty-years-old. Kevin may throw me out my second night on the job."

"Can't have that," Lip tells me. "Okay. Goodnight, Scar."

I blush at the nickname. "Goodnight, Lip," I reply, hanging up the phone.

. . .

I spent the next several days singing at The Alibi, and spending plenty of time with Lip; true to his word, he'd brought Ian to my second show. Ian and I said hello, but my eyes were all for Lip and vice versa, and Ian took off soon thereafter so that Lip could walk me home. I was pleased when, on the night of my fourth show, that Lip reiterated his request to take me to dinner, and I accepted immediately. Our first official date was the next evening, before my next show, and we continued in this hum of things—us going out or just talking after my shows—for the next several days.

"Don't worry," he told me on the night of my fourth show. "I'm not going to try anything drastic immediately—learned that the hard way."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked as we walked back to my apartment. "How so?"

"Long story; maybe I'll tell you sometime."

"But why wouldn't you try anything drastic?" I wanted to know. "Who's to say that I would automatically be against it? I am over twenty-one, you know."

"Yeah, but you're not... You're just not like any of the other women I've dated," Lip tells me, obviously not wanting to bad-mouth his exes, or me, for that matter.

I scoffed. "Why? Because they were all gorgeous and I'm—"

"You're beautiful," Lip told me firmly, stopping me in my tracks. He took me by the shoulders then, holding me there for a moment before he leaned down and kissed me. "Trust me. I don't have a type, but I know attractive when I see it."

"Come the fuck on," I said, a laugh escaping my throat as I gently pushed him away from me, as I walked away from him. "Seriously. What did they have that I don't?"

"Oh, I don't know," Lip replied, hurrying to catch up. "Experience..."

Immediately, I stopped walking, and Lip turned around to regard me then as I stood there, my mouth hanging open. "I—what?"

Lip smiled. "Come on. You yourself told me that you never went to parties or anything growing up, and that Jessica was the closest thing you had to a friend. And that you spent all your free time reading law textbooks..."

I crossed my arms. "Yeah, well, I could've done something reckless, like had a one night stand or something!"

"You were too smart for that," Lip says, crossing back to me, and standing opposite. "I know it and you know it."

I lowered my eyes, gazing at the cracks in the sidewalk we now stood on. "Yeah, well... So what if I'm not...experienced?" I whispered the word, as if it was an expletive. "I mean, free country and all, right?"

Lip reached out then, tilting my chin up. "Hey, Scarlett, don't sweat it," he told me, leaning down and kissing me again. "I like you the way you are. And when or if you're ready to cross that bridge with me, I'll be waiting on the other side for the conversation."

The night after my fourth show was the first night off that Kevin gave me; I got the text when I woke up around eleven o'clock the following morning. Thinking quickly, I texted Lip that I had gotten the day off, just in case he was going to stop by the bar that night. Lip said that he had to pull doubles at work for the next four days and so he was unavailable, but he promised to squeeze in some phone calls.

I accepted the offer, and spent the day finishing my unpacking and organizing, and then drove to the recycling center to dispose of my boxes properly. I also stopped at the supermarket, buying a blender for myself to begin a juice cleanse that I kept promising myself I was going to do before I started work at the firm. Returning back to my apartment, I unpacked the groceries and began to organize my kitchen. As a going-away present, Jessica's family had given me pretty much every kitchen essential that I would need, a blender not included, thankfully, and so my kitchen area was beginning to shape up accordingly.

After Lip returned from his double shifts at work, it was as if we hadn't seen each other for years, and that was really saying something, because I'd never been a people person. We spent the afternoons of the next week together, and he came to most of my shows at night. Even if he wasn't at my show, he was always waiting outside The Alibi afterwards to walk me back to my apartment. We'd graduated from just walking stagnantly beside one another to holding hands as the week went on, and I thought it was all progressing very well.

On my third Thursday in town, I was getting ready to go for a run at seven a.m. when Lip called me rather unexpectedly. I yanked my earbuds out of my ears and out of their socket on my phone before I swiped the green phone icon and placed it next to my ear. Heart beating fast—as it always did when Lip was around—I tried my best to keep my cool.

"Hello?" I said into the phone.

"Good morning, Scar," he said, sounding as chill as they come.

"Hi, Lip. How's it going?" I asked, despite seeing him less than seven hours ago. "How may I help you this morning?"

"You said last night that you had the day off today, right?"

"Yes, yeah. Kevin told me during my intermission between sets."

"Cool," Lip replies, and I wonder how guys can be so nonchalant about everything. "Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to come by the house tonight."

"The house?" I asked, feeling awkward just saying it. "I, mean, uh, why?"

"I got stick babysitting Liam—my youngest brother," he explains. "Nobody else was available. I just figured you could come by after he's in bed. We could watch a movie or something."

He is trying to Netflix and chill me?! I thought to myself. Game on! "Sure, Lip, I'll come over, if you want," I replied, smiling to myself. "Around nine? Liam's bedtime can't be very late. He's still pretty young, isn't he?"

"Nine's great," Liam replies. "Just knock three times. If I don't come down, it means I'm putting him to bed. I'll leave my key somewhere where you can find it."

"Yeah. Okay," I reply, not altogether sure what Lip and I could get up to inside somewhere that wasn't The Alibi Room. "I'll see you then."

"See you, Scar," Lip replied.

I head downstairs from my apartment, plugging my earbuds back into my phone and pop them into my ears as I lock the main door behind me. Getting out onto the street, I make my way down the block at a good clip, knowing that I want to be out for at least an hour or two to work off the bar food I'd ingested over the past couple of days that could not have been good for me. Keeping a good pace, my sneakers pounding the pavement, I listened to the various bands of the 1980's pumping in my ears, cheering me on, and feeling at one with many of them, but mainly with Freddie Mercury.

I got back to my apartment a little after nine o'clock and immediately headed into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. Stripping off my makeshift jogging attire, I threw it on top of the toilet and gave my reflection a cursory glance in the mirror. I'd always worn a bit more weight than most young women should, but it hadn't seemed to deter Lip for some reason. Shaking my head, I removed the ponytail—taking a few strands of my copper hair with it—before I grabbed the nozzle of my shower and adjusted it accordingly before turning it on. Once the temperature was to my liking, I stepped inside, the warmth of the water bringing temporary, yet immediate relief to my joints, slightly achy from the run.

Once out of the shower, I decided to let my hair dry out naturally as I slipped on some comfy house clothes, and decided to look over my checklist for beginning my new job. Other than getting my Bachelor's and Master's Degrees and moving to Chicago, I was also required to register with a doctor to get a physical beforehand. I made a mental note to contact a local doctor the following day as I continued reading through the checklist, even pulling out my contract which informed me, yet again, that I would be making about one-hundred and sixteen thousand a year, as an Associate Attorney, which I was not upset about.

Rolling my shoulders, I decided to call the cable company that I'd heard was the best around and scheduled an appointment for the following week. While I didn't have cable, I did already have internet—as the landlord provided that for an extra hundred dollars a month, which Dr. Normal didn't have an issue with. I logged onto my laptop, updating various social media profiles, to let my few hundred "friends" know that I'd taken the plunge and was now living in Chicago. I smiled when I noticed that Lip had friend requested me, and had also followed me on various other social media platforms. I accepted his friend request and followed his, pleased that he seemed to want other ways to keep in touch with me.

I made myself some dinner at the allotted time—just some salad with chicken—and cleaned up the kitchen, with just enough time to freshen up before heading over to Lip's. He'd texted me the address and I would key it into the GPS system to ensure the quickest route. Once I was presentable enough to be seen in public, I left my apartment around eight-thirty, locking up the front door and heading around to get my car. Getting inside, I copied the address from the text message and into the GPS system, and found that it was not so far away after all. Driving down the sunset-splattered street, I could see why Lip was slightly apprehensive whenever I asked him about his childhood home.

"It's the ghetto," he'd told me firmly. "You don't want to find yourself on the wrong side of it at night. That shit could eat you alive."

I didn't care where he lived—it's not the houses that mattered, but the people who lived there. I parked in front of the correct one and got out of the car, locking it automatically and making my way up to the chain-link gate. Opening it slowly, I found I was not put off by the squeaking—it gave it character, I decided. Making my way up the concrete path, I walked up the stairs and found the key sticking out from beneath a flower pot, and decided not to knock, lest it disturb Liam, attempting to sleep. Bending down in the darkness, I retrieved the key and stuck it into the lock of the door, letting myself in, and shutting it behind me.

It hadn't been a particularly warm night, so I'd worn my leather jacket, which I slipped off my shoulders as I stepped into the living room. Hesitating for a moment, I perched on the edge of the couch, and felt a sense of belonging which I'd never in my life felt before. Sure, the house and properties around it were rundown, but it truly gave them character, and that was something you couldn't find everywhere. Where my childhood home had been stuffy, and I'd been relegated to a corner with a potentially outdated textbook, this one—however outdated and cluttered—had had some kind of love within its walls, hadn't it? Sure, Lip had said his upbringing had been questionable at times, but his siblings had loved him...

I heard footfalls on the stairs near the kitchen a moment later, and, turning, I saw Lip emerge from the wall next to them, and he looked shocked that I was there. I got to my feet, not knowing if I should have been sitting or not, and hesitated where I stood. Lip, too, stood there, almost as if he was unsure what to say to break the ice, so I decided for the both of us. Not knowing what came over me, I wished later that I could've plead insanity, but I just couldn't take the building tension between the two of us anymore.

"So, what do you want to—" Lip began, but I was much too quick for him.

The second before he'd begun to speak, I'd already begun walking towards him, heart in my throat and pounding in my ears. Just as he attempted to get to the last words that he was intending to say, I approached him then and latched on tightly. Our lips met immediately, and our mouths came open at once, and we were instantly pawing at one another with no intentions of stopping. When his hands came down to pull off my tank top, I pulled back and began to pull at his own shirt. Lip grinned down at me, grabbing me by the waist as soon as it came off, and lifting me up. He then deposited me onto the couch, the very one I'd been sitting on when he'd first walked in, and began to yank at my jeans, while I fumbled with his belt.

Lip looked down at me then, our eyes locked, and our breath heavy, our bodies anticipating what was to come. "What have you done to me, Davies?" he whispered.

I scoffed. "You should ask yourself the same question, Gallagher," I whispered, finding my fingers gently tracing the outline of his crotch, still hidden beneath denim.

"Fuck!" Lip hissed through his teeth, pulling me to him again, our lips meeting, as he managed to kick off his jeans and attempt to remove mine as well.

It wasn't the key in the lock that we heard, or the back door opening, but the next thing we heard we would remember for the rest of our lives.

"Lip, are you fucking kidding me right now?!" came the shout. "Liam is right upstairs and he's got pretty good hearing!"

I let out a scream at that, closing my legs to Lip immediately and, my face flushed, making a grab for my tank top. "Ian!" I shouted, getting to my feet, yanking up my jeans. "Under normal circumstances, I'd be totally against a guy walking in..."

Ian's dark eyes flashed to Lip for a moment before he ran his fingers through his red hair. "I'm going to go check on Liam," he said, straightening his dark blue EMT uniform. Turning back to me, he smiled. "It was lovely to see you again, Scarlett. Let's do it again sometime when I'm home to see you properly," he said, glaring at Lip before heading upstairs.

Lip's eyes flashed to mine as soon as Ian's footsteps had ceased. "What did your comment mean?" he whispered as I straightened my tank top.

I raised my eyes to his. "What do you mean?"

"About how you would have minded about other guys walking in..."

I give Lip a small smile, cupping his face, knowing that this could start an argument. "Nothing, just that I feel at ease with Ian. He's nice, not like your typical jackasses our age..."

Lip nods, accepting it as I get to my feet. "You okay?" he asks.

"Well," I say, making a grab for my leather jacket as he walks me to the door. "Suffice it to say this has definitely been an interesting and productive day."

"How so?" Lip asks.

"Well, I mean I've got most of my checklist done to start at the firm," I reply. "I still have to make a doctor's appointment to get a physical. Once the results are in, and I'm deemed healthy enough, all systems are a-go."

Lip hesitates for a moment as I open the front door. "And do you anticipate anything going haywire?" he wants to know, leaning against the doorframe.

I smirked, leaning in and kissing him. "I'm dating a member of the Gallagher family," I reply with a grin. "How could things not go haywire?"

Lip looked amazed at what I said. "Oh. Right."

I shake my head immediately. "Sorry. I thought we were... Forget it," I say, putting on my jacket to distract myself. "Not important."

Lip pulled me back against him, and I felt my entire body tense up as soon as it made contact with his. "I just didn't know if you would still want to see me after Ian walked in on the two of us just now."

"Dude, please, I could give a fuck," I reply, laughing. "Besides, the only think he could've seen is your ass. It's not like he got a look at my tits or anything else."

Lip grinned. "You're pretty sexy when you're being sassy," he tells me.

I bite my lip, unsure of the affect he has upon me. "Does sass deserve punishment?" I whispered, allowing the words to linger in the air for a moment.

Lip looked past me and outside and, satisfied, snaked his arm from my lower back to my ass, which he cupped for a moment, before bringing his hand upwards and slapping it. He grinned down at me as I felt my entire body spasm at the feeling of it, and I leaned into his chest to muffle my slight scream. "Have you learned your lesson?" he asked.

I nodded, raising my eyes to his. "I've learned tonight, Gallagher, but maybe I'll need tutelage on this matter further...in future."

Lip smiled slowly at my words. "Rest assured, it will be given."

I returned his smile before standing on my toes and kissing him. "Goodnight, Lip," I said, pulling slowly away from him and making my way down the stairs, towards my car.

"Goodnight, Scar," he replies, and he waits in the doorway until I've driven away.

. . .

I found an appropriate doctor in the downtown area and was relieved when the receptionist told me that they had gotten the referral from the firm—apparently, I'd picked their doctor without even trying—and that they could squeeze me in on Monday. I thanked the woman, taking the appointment before terminating the phone call. I spent the weekend singing at The Alibi and seeing Lip, and pocketing the promised stipend from Kevin. Pleased at myself for earning some kind of living, at least until my day job began, it helped pass the time until the morning of my doctor's appointment.

I waited in the sterile environment, feeling altogether unsure about another interaction with a stranger, but after meeting Kevin, Lip, and Ian, I began to feel better about living here. When my name was called at the appointment time, I got to my feet and went with the nurse, trying to feel adult about the whole thing. I mean, I carried a fucking leather purse—armed with a dead cow hanging from my shoulder, that had to make me an adult in some form, right? Maybe a heartless one, a thought said to me, and I rolled my eyes, brushing it off.

"You filled out the intake form?" the nurse asked.

"Right here," I replied, handing over the clipboard.

"Very good," the nurse said, taking it from me. She went over to the computer and filled out the information I'd given, compiled with the file that my former primary care physician had sent to this office. "Your former doctor was Dr. Diana Evanston?"

I nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"And she was your doctor from birth, is that correct?"

"Yes, she was."

"And you would say you received care from her that was standard?"

"Yes, I would say so."

The nurse nodded, asking me a few more trivial questions before reiterating to me that Dr. Fairfax would be in soon to complete my physical in about ten minutes. I thanked the nurse, and took the offered hospital gown and changed as soon as she'd gone. Hopping back up onto the exam table, I crossed my legs at the ankle, keeping my hands clasped in my lap. The wall had one of those old clocks that were at everyone's middle school built at some point in the 1950's—you know, the ones that click with every single second, and, if you focus entirely on that, it could become quite maddening.

The door opened a few minutes later and Dr. Fairfax entered the room. She was lovely; she had a peaches and cream complexion with the most platinum blonde hair I'd ever seen. Her eyes were the color of glaciers, and she had hands to match, but she was quite kind, albeit distant. She went over what the nurse had left for her after a few moments of introductions between us, asking me a few questions here and there.

"Are you on birth control, Scarlett?" she asked.

I flushed immediately. "No," I replied.

"Have you ever been on birth control?"

I shook my head. "No."

"May I ask why that is?" she wanted to know.

I sighed, my shoulders deflating. "I've never needed it," I replied.

"Never needed it?"

"No." I sighed. "I never had a boyfriend...up until... Well, I got my Master's Degree just recently and suffice it to say I never had a spare moment to date, nor did I want to date."

"There are other reasons to go on the pill, Scarlett."

I laughed. "I know. My stepfather's a doctor. I'm well-aware that women take them to clear their skin or to get their cycles to be regular, but I never found a problem with either of those things, if I'm being honest."

Dr. Fairfax nodded. "Well, you said you never had a boyfriend up until some point recently. Do you have a boyfriend now, Scarlett?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what you would call us exactly..."

Dr. Fairfax typed some more information into her file on me into the computer. "Have you two slept together?"

I laughed aloud again. "No. No, we were about to, once, but his brother walked in. Kind of killed the mood, if you know what I mean."

Dr. Fairfax laughed. "I do, believe me. But, Scarlett, if you see yourself eventually sleeping with this young man, you should be on the pill. The pill usually works after about a month, so if you find the right moment is happening, you're being advised by me to use a condom, and then perhaps a morning after pill, just in case."

"Oh, I wouldn't need the morning after pill, even if the condom was affective," I say quietly, and find myself lowering my eyes automatically.

"What do you mean?"

I raised my eyes back to hers again, feeling tears coming to my eyes as I encountered a line of particularly sensitive conversation. "I... I can't..."

"What is it, Scarlett?" Dr. Fairfax asked gently.

I sighed. "I was told when I was nineteen that I couldn't have children," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, but I knew that Dr. Fairfax heard me.

Dr. Fairfax threw me a sensitive expression. "Oh, Scarlett, I'm so sorry," she said gently. "I do suggest, however, that you get on the pill, for formalities sake. You never know—bodies can change at any time."

I sighed. "All right. I'll take it."

"Great," Dr. Fairfax says, putting in the information. She then gets up and examines me, leaving my private areas alone, as she says, they don't need looking at if I can't feel anything physically bothering me, which causes me great relief. At the end of the appointment, she snaps off her gloves and goes to wash her hands. "If there's anything else..."

"Actually, Dr. Fairfax, there is." I wait for her to finish washing her hands and for her to turn around and face me before I continue. "The thing is, I was adopted, and I recently found out that I was actually born here, in the South Side..."

Dr. Fairfax smiled. "I just thought you moved away here as a child..."

"At three months, when I was adopted," I explain. "I was wondering if maybe you knew how I could go about tracking down my biological family..."

"Of course," Dr. Fairfax said. "Check the courthouse for the records first—that's what I would do. You wouldn't believe how far back those things go."

"Thank you. I'll look tomorrow," I reply.

"Great," Dr. Fairfax says, shaking my hand. "You're quite healthy, Scarlett. You should be very proud to have achieved so much in your life."

I sighed, shrugging my shoulders as I moved to get my clothes back on. "Well, I just hope that when or if I get in touch with my biological family, that they can see past my achievements and just like me, or love me, for who I am..."

"Your adoptive family relied a lot on academia?" Dr. Fairfax guessed.

I scoffed, shimmying into my jeans and hopping from one foot to the other. "I was lucky if they bothered to look twice at me."

"Not a fun start to life?"

I turned and looked at her, managing to get my bra inside the gown to hook it. "Just bad parenting all around," I replied.

"So, you've got unanswered questions?"

I smiled to myself, taking off my gown and folding it accordingly before grabbing my tank top and shaking my head. "Oh, Dr. Fairfax, you don't even know the half of it..."