A/N - Work, life, and all the other demands of my time are in full force. It's a short update but hopefully worth your time.
He pulls the letter from his back pocket and reads the addressed name, "Frank Price."
She nods but doesn't offer more.
He thumps the letter with his finger, "Different name?"
"Donna kept her maiden name. She's a professional woman, Walter." She sighs loudly, "It's a common practice."
He nods and says, "I know it is."
He squints looking off to the side and then back to her, this time thumping the letter against his hand like a judge with a gavel before returning it to his back pocket. The denim molds around the thin veil of truth.
"She mention any kids?"
"A son. They don't talk about him much but I gather from pieces here and there he was in the military."
He nods and asks, "Will you go down and sit with Jada for a while?" His eyes weaken while the memories fill and rush through his veins. "Even if it's just to appease me?" He asks.
"I'll think about it." She says.
"I never could talk you into anything. Could I?" The delicate words peel back the scab.
"You never talked much." She's says, "Unless my memories have betrayed me."
His bottom lip disappears deflecting the sadness that has existed between them for three decades. His eyes don't fall as she closes the door without either of them exchanging customary salutations.
Vic waits. She sees the slump of his shoulders. His eyes divert hers as he positions himself in the passenger seat of her truck. She turns, her eyes roll back, time slows. He notices everything about her. His brain catalogues the slope of her lips. He is confused. He is angry. He needs to find Donna. The seedlings of panic sprout way deep inside of his gut. The blade of his hand strokes his bottom lip from muscle memory. He closes his eyes to forge obstacles from the subcutaneous flow of energy that shield the soft texture beneath.
His eyes flash at the sudden sound of her voice, "What the fuck is your problem, Walt?"
"Nothing." He orders. "Let's go."
"Go where?"
"Back to the turnout."
She pauses remembering he is her boss then pulls even with Eamon and tells him to set up on the far side. Backing into the turnout her lips twist and pucker refusing to rail against his silence. Walt rolls the fabric of his jeans between his fingers and the cotton surrenders to his touch.
"You aren't going to ask?" He asks not looking at her.
"It's personal." She says and quickly adds, "It's none of my business."
They sit staring out of the front window long enough for the engine to cool and stop its rhythmic ticking.
"I wanted to marry her."
His words cut through. Her heart jumps into her throat just before it stops. She can control her breathing but not the flood of color to her face. She's conscious enough to pray he doesn't look at her and when his head doesn't move she takes a deep breath.
"Marry, who?"
"Heather."
Her relief isn't immediate and her steely eyes flash back to the road recalling the refined features of the robed woman that held his familiar attention at the door. He doesn't dare meet her eyes. He needs her approval, her understanding really, but he's not going to get it because he doesn't' deserve it. At least, not now. Not anymore.
It takes two swallows to get the knot to subside in her throat.
"You think this Desmond character is going to come back?"
"I don't think he ever left."
"The tracks didn't go through." She looks at him this time. She notices the lines around his eyes created by squinting instead of laughter and that makes her sad.
"Heather never misses a fashion season whether it's New York, Italy, or Iceland."
She waits for him to fill in the missing pieces and hidden secrets of his past but his lips seal.
"Let me guess. She was a model."
"Yup."
"Figures."
He keeps his eyes straight ahead as if he can't handle the pain of his failures in front of her.
"She's still in the industry. It's why she shouldn't be here."
Her lips twist and roll back around to ask, "What's the next play?"
"We wait." He says looking at her and adds, "and figure out why Donna wanted to be with me?"
"Fuck you." She says and he cocks his head.
"Vic." He says.