A/N: Time for some well-deserved family fluff with just a slight revelation to deal with.
you've got cucumbers on your eyes, too much time spent on nothing waiting for a moment to arise
"How come Max is going with Dr. Shepherd?" Annabel asks again, trailing a spoon through her bowl of cereal.
"Well, Max and Thomas like to play together, and that means we get to have some special time with just you."
Annabel eyes her warily.
"We missed you when you were staying in the hospital."
"But you and Dad were there all the time," Annabel points out.
Things I would never be able to say about my parents.
"True, but it's fun hanging out with you here. Like, did you know the hotel has a greenspace, which is kind of like a park, but a park you can take an elevator to?"
"No. Can we go?"
"We sure can."
"And I can wear my hat? So people don't look at me."
Addison's heart twists. "You can wear your hat if you want to wear your hat, sweetheart."
"They do look," Annabel says, apparently feeling the need to reinforce it, "'cause of the bandages. Even in the hospital they looked and other people had surgery there too. Even when I wear the hat, sometimes," she adds softly.
Addison reaches out to stroke her hair. "You're right, Bel. People might look. But if they look ... you can just look back."
"Look back?"
"Yeah, like this." Addison tosses her head and fixes her daughter with a carefree, even sassy, stare. "I'm Annabel Sloan, and you wish you had a cool hat like mine."
Annabel giggles. "I'm not going to do that, Mom."
"We'll see."
..
Thomas enters the apartment attached to his father's leg and giggling, but when he sees Annabel he turns and hides his face.
"He's a little shy," Addison tells her daughter, resting her hands on her shoulders. Annabel is hanging back herself.
"Thomas!" Max barrels through the suite at top speed wearing half of his turtle pajamas, dinosaur-head toothbrush in hand and plenty of toothpaste in his mouth. "Come and play with me!"
Mark appears seconds later. "Sorry," he grins. "He's fast. We'll be back as soon as he's decent." He scoops Max up and disappears again.
"Hi, Annabel." Derek smiles at her.
"I don't want an exam," Annabel says immediately, taking a step back. Addison squeezes her shoulders gently.
"Okay," Derek says cheerfully. "No exam, then."
Annabel peers up at him. "Really?"
"Sure." Derek shrugs. "It's up to you."
"But … you came here…." Her voice trails off.
"True." Derek looks thoughtful for a minute. "How about a game before I leave, then?"
Annabel looks interested. "What kind of game?"
"I don't know. What've you got?"
She shows him the abbreviated collection they brought to Seattle, Thomas breaking away from the group to play with Max; Derek selects Animal Friends.
Addison cleans up from breakfast while Mark watches the boys, keeping an eye on Annabel and Derek as they match pairs of sheep, monkey, goldfish, then try to find them again when the cards are reversed.
Derek looks up briefly from their game only once and winks at her.
Animal Friends. A memory game.
He's testing her memory.
Damn, he's good.
He's not done yet, either: next comes a staring contest in which Derek loses three matches in a row but Addison can see he's managed to track Annabel's eyes.
Then there's a brief game of tug o' war – a classic, Derek says – with a dishtowel in which he gauges her strength and then last but not least…
"Spit."
"Spit?" Annabel's eyes widen. "Yuck."
"There's no actual spitting involved," Derek assures her. "I promise. It's a good game. My sisters and I used to play all the time. Your mom knows the game, don't you, Addison? Chime in anytime; she's making me feel old."
"I do know the game. And you are old."
"Well then so are you."
"You're not old, Mom." Annabel stretches a hand out to her mother. "Play with us."
"How about your brother?" Derek exchanges a look with Addison. Max has been playing with Mark and Thomas in the other room.
"He can play too."
Derek takes Addison and Mark aside for a moment before they start. "You know how fast she is, is general, compared to max."
"Sure."
"Then watch them closely. It's easier to compare that way."
In the end they all play, sitting around the large table that once sported the equipment the three surgeons used to plot the surgery that saved Annabel's life.
..
The games over, all three kids back in the children's room with Max's train set – and music, to drown out this conversation – Derek sits across the table from both Mark and Addison. "So? How did she do?"
"She's usually a little faster," Mark admits.
"But not that much faster," Addison adds.
"Sounds about right. She'll continue to get stronger over the next few weeks. And months. So … you know we're going to take some precautions for the next two years."
Addison exchanges a look with Mark. "But she may never seize again," she says tentatively.
"That's possible." Derek nods. "And I hope that will be the case. It's also possible she'll have the occasional complementary seizure as the brain heals itself. The mass is completely gone; you know this. It's about keeping her from injuring herself now if she does seize."
They nod.
"We could try to induce a seizure, see how likely it is, but that's-"
"No," Addison says immediately.
Derek obviously expected that answer. "Right. I'd make the same decision. And we would still want you to take the precautions, so it's not that different. I know they talked to you about this before she left the hospital: yes, she's at risk for occasional complementary seizures, occasional migraines, for the next two years. Then the risk drops dramatically – same as any child her age. If she does end up with those effects, 90% of the time, it ends at puberty. So it won't be that many years."
Addison and Mark exchange another look.
"So, precautions," Addison says slowly.
"Precautions." Derek nods. "A helmet is the main one. Not all the time –"
Addison can see the relief in Mark's eyes and knows it's reflected in hers; she can only imagine how Annabel would have reacted to that particular precaution.
"- but when there's force with motion involved. Extra force, in other words. A bike – and I would hope she's wearing one anyway, when she bikes – sports - skating –
"And you said no ice skating for six weeks," Mark confirms.
"Right. The temperature is too low. No hot tubs, no jacuzzis, no steam rooms, no fjords. Save the skiing and the snowmen for next winter. But you know that. If it were up to me, I'd prefer her in full gear when she's skating, biking, scooting, whatever – elbow, knees. It's so easy to crack a bone that way, I've seen it too many times."
"Derek… thank you. For everything."
"Of course."
..
Addison kneels in front of her son, buttoning his raincoat. Mark is reading to Annabel in the other room, having said his goodbyes to Max and expressed his gratitude to Derek already.
"Are you going to be good, and listen to Dr. Shepherd and Dr. Grey? They're in charge."
"Yes, I will," Max says firmly.
"And you're going to stay with them if you go out somewhere, and not wander off, right?"
"Right!" He's fairly bouncing with excitement at the prospect of a day with Thomas, and has apparently decided that enthusiastic answers will get him out the door faster.
She has him recite his full name and her cell phone number, just in case, which he does.
Derek makes a show of checking his watch. "Okay, Addison, are you going to implant a tracking device or can I take him now?"
"Very funny. Yes, you can take him."
She gives Max one last hug; he trots off happily holding Derek's hand. She stands in the open doorway of their hotel suite until they've disappeared out of sight down the hall, struck by how unlikely this sight would have been just two weeks ago. And now, for some reason, it seems perfectly normal.
..
The green space explored, a reasonable amount of lunch eaten, PT exercises completed and medicine swallowed with minimal protest, Mark having departed for another brief meeting with Stuart, Annabel raises expectant blue eyes to her mother.
"What are we going to do now?"
"How about anything you want – within reason?"
She seems to be considering this. "Can we paint my toenails?"
Addison is surprised by the request; it's not something she's asked for before.
"Caitlin has painted toenails," Annabel explains.
Ah. Addison realizes that just as Max has tasted the joy of being the older child with Thomas, Annabel has enjoyed having a friend a little bit older. She knows older girls in New York, the teenagers who help out at skating, her coaches, but not like Caitlin, who, despite being the same height as Annabel - presumably due to her elfin mother - is a full year and a half older, with all the exciting maturity that entails: light-brown spiral curls all down her back and, apparently, painted toenails. Seattle has been a growth experience for all of them, it seems.
She smiles at her daughter. "Sure."
..
"I've been gone for an hour, and you've corrupted our child."
Addison follows Mark's gaze to the big chair in their bedroom, where Annabel is lounging on a fluffy white towel with cucumber slices on her eyes, grinning broadly.
Mark raises an eyebrow at Annabel's bright pink toes.
"It's organic and non-toxic paint," she assures him. "From the spa downstairs. Manufactured in Portland, even."
Annabel removes the cucumber slices and smiles at her father. "Caitlin has painted toenails," she explains.
"Oh, that makes sense then." Mark leans over Annabel to kiss Addison, then bends low to plant a kiss on Annabel's cheek.
"As long as my girls are having fun, I won't complain."
"Yeah, you will."
"Yeah, I will, but I won't really mean it."
"I love my pink toes," Annabel says. "Want us to do yours?"
"I think I'll pass." Mark smiles at her. "Maybe another time."
"Your dad gets pedicures sometimes."
"Really, Addison?" He glares at her with mock ferocity.
"You do?" Annabel's eyes are wide.
"They're men's pedicures, first of all, and I get them because certain people complain if my nails aren't perfectly smooth and are we really going to discuss this?"
"No," Addison says quickly.
"Yes," Annabel counters, giggling.
Mark frowns at his daughter. "Are your toes dry?"
She nods.
"Good." He lifts her off the chair and tosses her in the air, making her squeal. "That's how happy I am to hear you say yes … about anything."
..
"You're back!"
Max jumps into her arms as soon as she opens the door and she lifts him off his feet. "Did you have a good day, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, it was really good. Mommy…" His eyes widen. "Thomas has a dog." He sighs with ecstasy.
Derek smiles. "We do, indeed, have a dog." He glances around the suite. "Where's Mark?"
"He went for a run."
She sees something flicker in Derek's eyes and remembers they were together at the gym the day of Derek's hearing.
"He's a great dog," Max says happily, before she can say anything to reassure Derek. "He licked me and everything and he knows how to play catch."
"He is a great dog. You have good taste, Max." Derek glances at Addison. "I forgot to mention him before we left. Pete's very gentle. He loves children and eating shoes, in that order. Luckily our shoes are a little less pricey when they get destroyed."
A fair point.
"Can we get a dog? Please?"
Annabel, who has been standing by her side listening, clasps her hands together. "Pretty please?"
"It's not really fair to keep a dog in an apartment," she says, as she has before when this has come up. "Dogs need space. The Shepherds' dog has a lot of land to run around."
"Can we have a dog in Connecticut then?"
"And who will take care of the dog when we're in the city?"
"Mr. Madden," Annabel responds immediately, as if it's obvious. Addison smiles. Their caretaker has always seemed more like a cat person to her, actually.
"We'll see," she says.
"Thomas, come and play," Max urges, and Thomas trots off with him, Annabel in their wake.
"Just a few minutes, and then we have to go home," Derek calls after weakly and Addison flashes him a smile.
"Sorry about that," he says.
"About having a great dog, or about watching my son all day, or about the door-to-door service? Because I don't think any one of those things needs an apology."
"He's a great kid." Derek smiles, then pauses for a moment. "I … take it Max met your father."
Addison glances at him. "Did he say something?"
"Thomas was showing him our fishing boat out at the lake and Max said, 'My grandfather is captain of the sailors.'"
Addison stifles a laugh.
"The Captain wanted to meet the kids, and he did fly all the way out here … it was about five minutes."
"Addison…"
She looks up.
"Thank you, for calling him."
"After what you did for Annabel, it's the least I could do."
"It's a lot," he says and she can tell by the way he says it that he gets it. He remembers.
She's not sure how much time has passed, only that a curtain of darkness is surrounding her as she lies curled up on her side. Maybe it's nighttime now.
"Addison. Addison?"
She can feel the bed sink next to her, a hand resting on her hip, a gentle voice.
"What can I do? Tell me."
But it feels like he's talking to her underwater. She rolls onto her back, slowly, and gazes up at his face to see if it looks as blurry as it sounds.
"Addie? You're scaring me."
His hands are on her shoulders now, moving her a little. Not shaking her, just … moving. He's always gentle, and she tries to smile at him. She doesn't want Derek to be scared. He's so sweet, so good to her.
"What the hell happened today? With your parents? I knew you shouldn't have gone."
"Don't yell."
"I'm not yelling." She feels his hand on her face, gentle, moving her hair away from her heated skin. It's too warm in here. But it's also cold, and her teeth chatter a little.
"You know you don't have to go running when they call. Addison, you know that."
"I know," she mumbles. He's starting to sound very far away again.
"What can I do?" He moves his hand to her leg, squeezing gently. She knows he's trying to reassure her but it would help if he would stop being so blurry, so hard to focus on.
What can he do? She'd like to feel his arms around her and the solid comfort of his body against hers. It might make her feel more real, less blurry. Stay, that's what she would say if her lips would move, just stay with me.
"Addie? You want some company? Or you want some space? Help me out here. Talk to me."
But this is her fault. Derek didn't want her to go.
"Addison." She feels him fumbling for her hand. His is big and warm, like a blanket. Her fingers feel so cramped, so cold, like they can't unfurl. He manages though, unwraps them and winds them up with his.
She lifts her other hand to pat his blurry face. "I'm okay, honey. You go."
Derek studies her face for a moment. "He's still here?"
"Yeah, he's still here. He wants to have lunch. Which will probably mean staring at each other until one of us blinks, and I can't exactly drink a bottle of wine afterwards to forget it, not now that I'm a mom."
"You are a mom." He glances at her. "Addison, I, uh, I said some things, before…"
You two are perfect for each other, you really are. You both ruin everything you touch.
"Don't worry about it," she says quickly.
Two adulterous sociopaths? Those kids never stood a chance.
"I'm sorry. I was wrong, to take my frustration out on you, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things, and they're not true."
Her eyes widen. Derek Shepherd doesn't apologize for his sharp tongue, and she tells him as much.
"I apologize now," he shrugs.
"You're different." She smiles at him. "Meredith has been good for you."
He smiles. "Yeah, she has."
Addison moves to the window, watching a light rain fall. After a moment, Derek joins her, and they both stare outside at the spruces and the skyline.
"Anyway, I just meant … seeing you, with your kids, it's... you're nothing like them, you know?"
Addison glances over at him; she knows he means her parents. "I'm not?"
"You're not."
"You're not particularly young anymore, dear."
"So kind of you to notice." Addison drains her cocktail.
"Certainly not young enough to gulp a drink like that." She says "gulp" like it's a dirty word. "And you know sarcasm has never become you, dear."
"Sorry," she says sullenly, glancing at the doorway; she can't decide if she's desperate for Derek to come back or grateful he's getting a break from her mother. He certainly deserves it.
"Addison, all I'm saying is that if you're going to have children, it's better to do it sooner."
"Mother, I don't want to discuss this right now."
"Really, Addison, a little planning ahead does wonders. I know that's not your forte."
"Bizzy!" She sharpens her voice, only a little. "Please."
Bizzy raises her eyebrows, just slightly, in response. "I hope you don't speak in that manner to your husband's mother, dear. She'll think you were raised by wolves."
"I don't have to. My husband's mother is actually nice to me." Her voice shakes. It's not the retort she really wants to make, which is this: She would be right, Mother, because I was raised by wolves, and you were chief among them.
"Oh, Addison. You've never been very good at knowing what people think."
Her blood feels cold.
"Addison? Bizzy? I wasn't sure where you went. Everything all right?" Derek's voice cuts through the ice as leans in to kiss her on the cheek.
"Everything is fine, Derek," Bizzy says coolly. "Why don't you pour yourself a drink, dear, and I think Addison could use another one as well."
"Addie?" He nudges her gently. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, honey."
Bizzy leans in to murmur something to her as she walks out of the room. "Change of life babies are tacky, dear. Just keep it in mind." She raises her voice to be heard in the rest of the room. "Derek, Addison, I need to take a call in my office. I'll see you for dinner."
"Bizzy's not coming to Seattle too, is she?"
"No." Heaven forbid. "She's not the one with the NatMed contacts." She glances at Derek. "You know, he's staying in this hotel."
"I'll make myself scarce, then."
"You should be fine if you stay away from the bar."
"Good advice. I'll make sure to keep my distance. I had to deal with the Captain enough when I was married to you."
She hears a sharp little indrawn breath and turns around to see Annabel, who's apparently left the children's room so quietly she had no idea she was standing behind them, in full earshot.
"Bel…"
Annabel's blue eyes are fixed on Derek, wide with shock. "You were married to my mom?"
"Sorry," Derek winces.
Addison shoots him what she hopes is a forgiving look – it's not like she saw Annabel either – and gestures toward the children's room. "Can you just keep an eye on them so I can…"
"Of course."
In the big bedroom, she arranges herself on the easy chair under the window with Annabel in her lap.
"Oof," she says, adjusting her daughter's weight across her legs. "You might be getting too big for this."
"I'm not too big!" Annabel wriggles into a more comfortable position, then sits up. "See?"
"You're right." Addison brushes her dark hair back. "You still fit perfectly." She braces herself for the discussion. "Bel, about what…"
"You were married?" Annabel cuts her off, getting right down to business. "You and Dr. Shepherd?"
"Yes." Addison folds one of her daughter's little hands into hers. "That's not the way I would have liked to tell you, but a long, long time ago, when we were a lot younger, before I married your dad and before Dr. Shepherd married Dr. Grey, we were married to each other. Yes."
Annabel seems to be taking in the information.
"You got a divorce?"
"Yes, we did."
"How come?"
"Well," she shifts Annabel slightly on her lap. She hasn't had time to prepare so she shoots from the hip: "because even though we cared about each other we knew we, um, we weren't happy living together. And see how well it all worked out, now I have you and Max, and Dr. Shepherd has Thomas."
Annabel considers this. A look of concern flickers across her features.
"Are you and Daddy going to get divorced?"
"No. Never," she says immediately, mentally tossing all the child psychology books out the window. "We'd miss each other too much."
Annabel smiles a little at this. "Mommy … how come you didn't tell me before? About Dr. Shepherd?"
"We just had more important things to think about." She tucks a lock of hair behind Annabel's ear, avoiding the bandages. "Like getting you all better."
Annabel's head is slightly cocked, her thinking pose.
"Bel … what are you thinking about?"
"Just … it's kind of weird," Annabel says finally, wrinkling her nose a little bit.
Addison smiles. "It's kind of weird. I agree. You can ask me more questions if you have them, okay? This isn't our last conversation about it."
"Mom?"
"Yeah, Bel."
"If you and Dr. Shepherd were married, does that mean Thomas is our stepbrother?"
"…I don't think that's how it works, honey, because we're not married anymore."
"But Reed's mom and dad aren't married anymore and her dad is married to a new lady and the new lady has a kid and his name is Milo and Milo's dad is someone else, and Milo's still her stepbrother," she says this all in one breath. "Reed told me," she adds.
Addison tries to follow the logic. "Well … I guess it depends, then," she says, one of her go-to non-answers, which Annabel is beginning to pick up on based on her expression.
"Let's go back out and say goodbye, Bel, so Dr. Shepherd and Thomas can go home."
"Wait." Annabel touches her arm. "Can I ask you something else?"
"Of course. You can ask me anything."
Annabel toys with the cuff of her mother's blouse. "Is the Captain guy still here?"
"Yeah, sweetheart, he's still in Seattle."
"Are we going to see him again?"
Addison studies her little face. "You don't have to see him again if you don't want to."
"I know." Annabel looks up at her. "Was he a bad dad?"
This question feels harder to answer than it should. "He … wasn't around very much," she tells her daughter, figuring they have some time in later years to explore the difference between physical and emotional absence.
"Oh. Is he better now?"
"Well, he did come out here to try to help us," Addison says carefully. She's not quite sure where this is going, but she knows it's going somewhere. Annabel has always been thoughtful, methodical. If Addison knows her she's amassing information now to make a decision; she's not sure what.
"And he's nice to you now?"
Addison thinks about the handkerchief she stashed in her purse. "Yeah, Bel, he's nice to me now."
She nods.
"Do you want to ask me anything else, sweetheart?"
"No, I'm good. But, Mommy." She puts her little hands on either side of her mother's face.
"Yeah, Bel."
"He should have been nice to you when you were little, too."
..
Addison carries two plates over to the sink, then props her hips against the counter, studying Mark in profile as he takes in the information.
"So she knows the two of you were married, but you left out the details of her conception … right?"
"Very funny."
He doesn't look too horrified, thankfully, just continues calmly washing the dishes from dinner. Addison glances again toward the children's room, where Max and Annabel are playing.
"You don't think it's bad?"
"No. It was bound to come up sooner or later. How did she take it?"
"Pretty well. She … asked if we were going to get divorced too."
"What did you say?"
"I said no, because we'd miss each other too much."
He laughs, pulling her in for a hug. "There's a reason I've always said you're the smartest person I know."
She pushes him away, laughing too. "You're getting me all wet."
"Sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry at all.
"Anyway, I'm not smart enough to figure out what to do for Annabel's birthday," Addison says ruefully. "And she's expecting a surprise."
"Ah, but I can help there."
"You have an idea?"
"I do."
"You're amazing," she says when he tells her.
"The hotel concierge is amazing. Me … I'm a conduit. But I'll take it," and he pulls her toward him for a kiss that's nice enough she doesn't even complain about his soapy hands.
..
Before long, both the kids are sitting cross-legged on the big bed in Addison and Mark's room, freshly bathed, wearing pajamas, just a little too giggly for bedtime and seeming for all the world like they're home in Manhattan. "Me and Max want to sleep by ourselves tonight," Annabel announced at dinner, so they're just piled up, saying goodnight. Like they usually do. Like things are normal.
"Mom," Annabel bounces to her knees, one of her favorite moves – but one that makes Addison wince slightly, post surgery; still, she's on a bed, and she figures she'll pick her battles. Annabel is in a good mood, even consenting to the use of a monitor – they're not calling it a baby monitor – so they can keep an eye on her during the night.
"When are you going to tell me my surprise?"
Addison feigns confusion. "What do you mean, Bel?"
"You said!" Annabel flops onto the comforter. She looks to Mark. "Dad!"
"Addison, did you say Annabel's getting a surprise?" Mark furrows his brow.
"She did!" Max insists, quick to take his sister's side. "Mommy, you did too."
"I did?"
"You did," Annabel insists.
"Oh, right, I did."
"That's mean," Annabel pouts, and Addison reaches for her, hauling her into her lap and tickling her sides. It's hard to believe she carried Annabel inside her, that she was ever so tiny.
"You have a mean mom," Addison sighs into her dark hair with exaggerated regret. "I'm sorry."
"You're not really mean." Annabel wriggles around to see her, a big smile on her face. "But you will be if you don't tell me."
"Well," Addison says. "You know your birthday's on Tuesday."
"I know!"
"So we need to celebrate," Mark says, "by doing something exciting."
"What is it?"
"Skating."
She glances from parent to parent. "But I can't skate yet. You said."
"You can't ice skate … but you can roller skate."
"Roller skate?" Annabel's eyes widen.
"Like skating … but no ice. You still get a big rink, music, and it's a great place for a party."
A smile spreads across Annabel's face. "Roller skating," she repeats.
"Yup. And we'll be here in Seattle. So that means you can invite your Seattle friends to the party. Like the Shepherds."
"Dr. Girl-Shepherd too?" Max asks, Annabel nodding along with him.
"Of course."
"And Caitlin?"
"Yeah, Caitlin and Tess too."
Max beams at the mention of Caitlin's little sister.
Annabel shoots a glance at her father. "Me and Caitlin can still be friends?"
"Of course you can still be friends."
"But what about …" her voice trails off.
"Actually." Addison wraps her arms around Annabel, rocking her back and forth playfully. "Your dad and Caitlin's dad are friends now too."
"They are?" Annabel's eyes are wide.
Mark nods.
"Wow."
..
"Ah, there's so much room," Addison says, sighing and stretching her legs out in the big bed. "And no one is elbowing me."
"No one is elbowing you yet," Mark points out, and Addison smiles. They've always had an open door policy.
"So … roller skating."
"Roller skating." He grins at her.
She nods. "We're throwing a seventh-birthday party in three days at a roller skating rink."
"Addie … do you actually know how to roller skate?"
She hesitates. "How different can it be from ice skating?"
Mark pokes her side. "Remember the roller blading incident?" he's laughing apparently just thinking of the time he, Derek, and Addison attempted to roller blade in Central Park … without learning how to stop.
"Oh my god." Addison laughs too, at the memory. "That's completely different. Those things are … dangerous! This is like … vintage roller skates, at least in the pictures. Lots of wheels."
"She'll need to wear a helmet."
"I know." Addison glances at Mark. "You can tell her that part."
"You tell her," he counters.
"You."
She flops back on the bed. "I think we need some sleep."
"Not a peep." Mark indicates the baby monitor. "Look at those angels."
They do look pretty angelic, sleeping.
"It's hard to believe that angelic face is the same kid who put three rubber dinosaurs in the microwave in Connecticut," Mark adds.
"At least he didn't turn it on," Addison reminds him.
"True."
She kisses him goodnight a few times, but not so many that they won't be able to sleep, and sinks into the soft pillows. His arm is warm and comfortable around her waist and she's tired.
But she doesn't fall asleep. Mark doesn't either; neither of them moves or speaks, but each can hear the other's breathing.
"You're not sleeping," Addison says finally.
"You're not sleeping either."
She turns in his arms, settling against him. "Today was nice."
"Today was nice," he agrees.
"So why do I still kind of feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop?"
Mark pulls her closer. "I don't know. I feel like that too. But … I really do think we might be done with shoes for a while."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. We've moved on to roller skates." He chuckles and the movement of his body under hers makes her laugh too.
Press the review button and make me smile! Thank you, as always, for reading. A little light in this chapters - there will still be a few more things to wrap up and serious conversations before we end. Four more chapters to go, then the epilogue (I was wrong last time, sorry!). I'm going to miss these guys, but I promise not to drag it out too much.
Title lyric from First Aid Kit's When I Grow Up (couldn't resist).