Monday – December 22
Michael arrived at the office early as usual. Opening his desk, he pulled out the paperwork he'd need to start the day and turned on his computer. As he waited for it to boot up, he adjusted the papers on his desk. And then he adjusted them again. He just couldn't quite get them to sit in the right position.
Realizing what he was doing, he stopped himself. This is what he did, what he always had done, when he was nervous about a situation. He found some detail to focus on and put his whole energy into it. The problem was, the thing he was nervous about rarely ever just went away. And what was on his mind this morning wouldn't either.
Sara had been mentioning for the last month how they should invite Matt and Vicki over. He'd been finding ways to put it off until last night when she'd cornered him. He'd agreed to ask Matt and Vicki to come over for New Years Eve. If they didn't have plans of course. He was hoping they'd have plans. Unable to explain to himself why he was nervous about them coming over, he'd been unable to explain to Sara who'd finally had enough of his tap dancing. Her voice rang in his ears, "Michael they've been nothing but nice to both of us. It's the least we can do. It's what friends are supposed to do. Don't you want that? Friends?"
That was the question. Did he want friends? On some level he remembered what that was like, having friends, but that was so long ago. Could he have that again? He didn't have any more time to ponder the question though as Matt walked through the door.
Matt smiled. "Morning Michael. Guess your excited since this is your last day this week. The rest of us are here for another day." He laughed.
Michael cleared his throat and walked over to Matt. Placing his hands in his pockets he began, "Just hoping to get through the week."
"Oh that's right. Your getting divorced tomorrow." Matt lowered his voice to a whisper for this last part, even though they were the only ones in the room. He'd been amazed Michael had shared with him one day about his soon to be ex-wife, but he doubted anyone else at the firm had been privy to this information. "Your not expecting any problems are you?"
"No. I mean at least my lawyer isn't."
Matt smiled. "Well that's good. I know you and Sara are in a holding pattern until that's done."
Michael shifted on his feet. "Yea we are." Clearing his throat again, "Uh Matt, Sara and I were wondering if…you and Vicki…had any plans…for New Years Eve."
"Uh no. Not really. I mean we usually just stay in and have a little celebration of our own watching the ball drop in Time Square. Were not really party people." Matt paused and looked at Michael. "Why?"
"Would you like to come over to our place? Sara thought…"
Matt didn't let Michael finish. With a large smile on his face, "We'd love to. Vicki's been talking ever since the barbeque about having you guys over so this would be perfect. Just let me give her a call really quick."
As Matt reached for the phone to call his wife, Michael made his way back to his desk as his other co-workers started filing in. He heard Matt talking quietly on the phone. A few minutes later, Matt hung up and turned to Michael. "We're on. What time?"
"I'm sorry?"
"What time do you want us to be there?"
"Oh." Michael thought about it. Sara would probably want to have dinner. "How about six. We can order pizza or something."
Matt laughed. "Six will work. And pizza's fine." With that both men turned their attention to the days work ahead of them.
Pulling his briefcase onto his desk, Michael looked down at his watch. It was three thirty and he needed to get going. He'd hoped to not have to take any work home with him over the Christmas break but that wasn't going to happen. He still had at least an hour or two of work to do and he had to meet his parole officer in thirty minutes.
Sorting through the paperwork on his desk, he put the items he'd need into his briefcase and filed the rest away in his desk. Satisfied he'd gotten everything, he snapped the clasp closed on his case and reached behind him to grab his suit jacket.
As he turned back around, he saw the new receptionist Lisa walk into the office only to stop short right in front of his desk. "Oh," she said. "I thought you'd already gone."
Michael gave the young girl a smile. She'd only been there for a couple of weeks but he liked her. She was good at giving him his messages in a timely fashion unlike the prior woman. A month ago he'd received a direct call from the Ms. Halley, Mr. Davis's assistant, saying her boss had been trying to reach him for two days and had left him several messages. He'd of course apologized to her and gotten Mr. Davis's questions answered immediately. When he'd finished his phone call however, he'd went to confront Molly and find out why he hadn't been given his messages. She simply said she'd forgotten and he'd very firmly told her that was not acceptable.
The next morning he'd been asked into John's office to inquire about what had happened. In the end, Molly had been asked to come in as well and explain her side of the situation. John ended up agreeing with Michael and felt he was justified in his agitation at not getting messages from a client in a reasonable amount of time. Michael didn't know if he'd ever forget her response. She looked at Michael and then at John, "I just can't do this anymore. I..I can't work with criminals. I just can't." And with that, she left his office, packed up her things, and had not returned.
Reaching back to get his over coat, "Nope. I'm still here. At least for a minute or two more."
"Oh. Mr. Davis just called and said he had a few questions regarding the e-mail you sent him this morning. I told him I'd thought you'd already gone but he sounded like it was kind of important so I was going to have someone else give him a call back."
Lisa handed him the message and he glanced back down at his watch. He needed to leave, but he couldn't just let his client wait until after the holiday. So with a sigh he thanked Lisa for the message and reached down to pick up his phone. "Hello Bill. It's Michael Scofield. I heard you had some questions…"
By the time Michael walked into the drab government building where he met with his parole officer it was four ten. He was ten minutes late. Outside Mr. Sonksen's door, he slipped out of his overcoat, slung it over his arm, took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Come in." was the curt reply.
Michael opened the door and stepped inside. Continuing to look down at the papers in front of him, the older man said dryly, "Your late." Finally looking up at his parolee and setting his pencil down, "Well are you going to waste more of my time or are you going to come in and sit down. And shut the door."
Closing the door, Michael walked in and sat down, but said nothing. "So Mr. Scofield, you do realize that part of your parole means you have to show up for these little meetings of ours. On time."
"Yes sir."
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Looking down at his watch, "Your twelve minutes late. Do you have an explanation?"
"I'm sorry Mr. Sonksen. I had to return a call from a client before I was able to leave."
At first there was no response from his parole officer. Then he heard the man chuckle. It was a new sound as the man across from him had never even broken a smile in his presence over the last six months. "Well Mr. Scofield, I'm inclined to believe you. Given you've been nothing but punctual in the past. And your not exactly one of my "normal" parolees, now are you?" Shifting the papers on his desk he continued. "Plus I'm feeling generous today what with the holiday and all. So is there anything new to report? I see you're scheduled for court tomorrow."
Although Michael shouldn't be surprised his parole officer knew he was due in court tomorrow, the fact he'd brought it up surprised him. "Yes sir." Michael had learned from previous experience he'd have to provide more than just agreement. "My divorce is being finalized tomorrow."
Mr. Sonksen just nodded. "And how are your current living arrangements? No changes?"
"No sir. No changes."
"Job is going well?"
"Yes. Very well."
"Good." Mr. Sonksen became silent again as he made some notations on the papers in front of him. The questions, aside from the one about his court date tomorrow, were always the same. "Well if you don't have anything else to tell me Mr. Scofield, we're done here. I have other people to see."
Michael got up from his chair, "Oh and Mr. Scofield…lets make sure were not late next week shall we?" With a nod, Michael quietly left the office.
Heading out of the building, Michael rushed to his car. Ducking inside out of the bitter Chicago cold, he glanced down at his watch again. It was already after four thirty. He was going to have hurry if he was going to pick up Sara's present before picking up her at the hospital. Quickly putting his car in drive, he headed towards the jewelry store.
Michael pulled up to the employee entrance of the hospital with two minutes to spare. He had no idea how he'd managed to pull that off though. When he'd arrived at the jewelry store, luckily everything had been ready for him. All he'd had to do was sign for the item and be on his way. It was now tucked safely in his left coat pocket until he had time to stash it away once he arrived home.
As soon as she came out of the building, he saw her. Her auburn hair was blowing in the chilly December wind. Head thrown back in laughter, she was talking to her friend Mary. Seeing her turn her head in his direction, her eyes took on a warm tone the minute she saw him and she smiled that beautiful smile full of love that was only for him.
A few feet from the car the women stopped to say their goodbyes. After a brief hug, Mary turned toward the parking lot and her car. Sara opened the car door letting a breeze of cold air into the heated warmth. Quickly closing the door behind her, she grabbed her seat belt and turned to snap it in place. Hearing the click letting her know the belt was secure, she began to turn back to the front only to be stopped by Michael's hand on her arm.
A split second later, his mouth was on hers; the sound of her breath leaving her lungs audible in the small space. Bringing her hand up to lay on his chest, she eagerly responded to the spontaneous kiss.
He moved his hand up her arm to frame her face. Wanting desperately to take their kiss to the next level but aware of where they were, he pulled back slightly resting his forehead on hers.
She felt the absence of his lips immediately; the warm air of the car no replacement where his soft lips had been. She slid her hand up to cup the side of his face, mirroring his action by using her thumb to caress his cheek. Letting her thumb travel over the lips that had so recently been pressing against hers, she allowed herself to get lost in the depth of emotion she found in his eyes.
Just then she heard some commotion behind her as a group of nurses, talking and laughing, brought them back to reality. Both reluctantly moved back to their seats as Michael put the car in motion.
Leaning her head back against the headrest, Sara closed her eyes. Sometimes she still felt this life she was leading with Michael was a dream. Lost in her thoughts she heard him ask her what she wanted for dinner. "How about Italian? We haven't had that in a while." Then Sara smiled, "Well that is unless you count pizza."
Never taking his eyes off the road, he smiled back. "I know the perfect place." Three blocks later, he turned down a small alley heading toward a small Italian Bistro he'd frequented years ago.