Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.
Author's Note: Thanks for bearing with me – this is going a bit more slowly and is going to end up a lot longer than I expected. I'd say the story is maybe only 25% done at this point. Hopefully, the longer length will be a good thing. :) Hope you're enjoying it.
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When they got back to the house after their walk, it seemed empty and lonely without Bruno. Even George was subdued. Tim helped Al out of her coat and hung it up for her. He kicked off his boots and then looked around the kitchen.
"What do you want to do now?" he asked.
"Drink some Scotch and then take a nap," she said. "But that's not going to happen."
"Well, at least half of that's not going to happen," Tim agreed. "Want to finish reading The Great Gatsby?"
Al nodded and followed him into the living room. He sat down on the couch. She picked up the book from the coffee table and laid down, resting her head in his lap. Tim put his hand on her belly, hoping to feel some more kicking, and closed his eyes while she began reading. He listened intently to the sad ending, a funeral with almost no one in attendance and the narrator's musing on careless people. Tim looked down and saw that Al was on the last page.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms out further....And one fine morning –
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
"Well, that was cheery," said Tim wryly, running a hand through Al's curls.
Al gave him a thin half-smile.
"Do any of these literature books have happy endings?" asked Tim.
"Not really. Did you hate it?"
Tim shook his head. "No, it was a good story, complicated and sad, but interesting."
They were quiet for a few minutes, Tim slipping away into thought.
"What's wrong, Timmy?" asked Al softly. She put her hand on top of his and looked up at him, her forehead wrinkled with concern.
"I don't know. It just, that ending part, being drawn into the past. Do you believe that's true?"
"I think it depends what your past is. If, like Gatsby, you believe the great love of your life and your best days are behind you, then yeah, you are drawn back in a futile attempt to recreate the past. But if you don't believe that, then no. Point is, the choice is yours."
Tim nodded as he considered her words. They made a lot of sense. He took a deep breath and let it out as a slow, relieved sigh.
"Does this mean you don't want to name a boy Nick?"
"No, it's not that at all. I love the name Nick. Nicholas William works for me, as long as you still like it."
"I love it. We still need a girl's name though."
Tim looked around at all the books. "All these books, must be at least one girl's name that you like."
"I've been thinking about it for weeks, but haven't come up with any."
"Your grandmother, the Irish one you're always telling stories about? What was her name?"
"Maeve."
"That's real pretty. I can live with that. And your old last name makes a pretty good middle name. Maeve Collette. That okay with you?"
"Yeah. Gran would have liked that a lot. Wow, this was pretty painless," she said with a smile.
He smiled down at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Al sat up, turning around and folding her legs underneath her. She brushed the hair off his face, tucking it behind his ear, and then rubbed the back of his neck.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I'm just....I don't know....starting to get worried. Starting to wonder if I'll be able to do this. You know, I didn't exactly have the best role model for a father."
"No, but you did have a decent brother and you somehow managed to fill the gap, maybe partly with Jay and his family, maybe partly with football. You survived though and grew up into a good man. Don't you forget that."
Tim looked down, trying to get his emotions under control. Damn it, he thought, she's the pregnant one, so why am I having the mood swings?
"Sorry, Al, I guess it's just been a pretty shitty day."
She agreed with him and then leaned into his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. "Want me to distract you?"
Tim raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking we could make some popcorn and then go into the tv room and watch Terminator movies until our eyeballs fall out or our brains rot, whichever happen first."
"Tempting," he said, running a hand up and down her calf.
"Or maybe you have other ideas?"
He stood up and held out a hand to her. "Let's start with the Terminator and see where it goes from there."