This time, she was the one knocking. However, she felt the same emotion that she had when Derek first knocked on her door. Anger. Frustration. Fury. After he missed her performance, Zola had cried, and then refused to eat tea, and then insisted that she slept in the same bed as her mom. And that was all Derek's fault.
"I'm not sure he's in, honey."
Meredith looked round to see a rather old woman, a bag of shopping in one hand and a key in the other.
"Mmm?"
"There was an ambulance here last night. I don't know what happened, but they took him away and I haven't heard anything from his apartment since. But I've been out shopping, so I can't be sure."
"An ambulance?" She repeated.
She nodded as she placed her key into her apartment's door. "Oh, yes."
"And you're sure it was him?"
"I talked to his mom briefly and she said they were going. I'm not sure why though. I'm afraid I have to get lunch going now - it's already so late. Maybe try again tomorrow?" She suggested.
"Carolyn?"
"Yeah. Pretty sure that's her name." She confirmed before heading into her home to cook lunch.
An ambulance. What would he need an ambulance for? How bad was whatever bought him in? How long was it going to be until he was back? Was she supposed to be calling hospitals, looking for him, or was that desperate? Was that something a wife would do? Was someone who was basically divorced even supposed to feel this anxious and, frankly, sick at the thought of their ex-husband being in such a bad condition that they required an ambulance? She didn't know.
So she sighed, and left.
"Meredith!"
She spun around at the call to see Derek stood in the hall outside his door.
"Hi. Sorry." He apologised with a slight smile. He looked down. "I had to re-sling my arm so it took me a while to get up."
"What the hell happened to you?" She asked as she approached him. His right arm was wrapped in white plaster, and held against his chest by a black fabric sling.
"I may have tripped." He confessed - lied - sheepishly - falsely sheepishly.
"Tripped?"
"Down the stairs." He continued. "It was on the way to Zola's performance because, yes, I know that I missed that and I truly am so sorry."
"Ever heard of a phone?" She asked. Although she instantly excused him from missing the performance - falling down the stairs and being taken away in an ambulance was a more than reasonable response - he hadn't yet provided an excuse for not contacting her.
"I didn't have my phone in the hospital, and I went straight to bed when I got in, and have been asleep since."
"It's two o'clock in the afternoon." She pointed out. Zola's concert was early, so unless he was waiting more than five hours in the ER, he should have got back in time for a regular adult sleep schedule.
"Concussion." He explained - lied. "It's grade two, but I'm fine. Oh, and I had a CT and it was clear, before you ask."
She sighed. He'd had a rough night. "Well, you better get sat back down."
He winced as he removed his sling, and placed his hand on the stack of pillows he had put on his lap.
"You okay?"
"Mmm." He agreed, although he didn't particularly sound like he was telling the truth. "Just hurts to move then it's fine again."
She sat down next to him now she knew he was okay. "What is it?"
"An extra-articular nondisplaced distal radius fracture."
"Also known as a broken wrist." She returned. It sounded so serious the way he put it.
"Yeah. Or that." He agreed with a quick smile. "I tried to catch myself but ended up snapping my wrist instead which was...not so smart."
She smiled. "Regular six weeks?"
He nodded.
"Your neighbour told me Carolyn has been staying here." Meredith said out of the blue. The thought hadn't exited her mind since she heard the older woman mention her.
"Mmm. She was supposed to be visiting for like a week for a quick holiday, but she's been here for a while now."
"I think you're lying."
He swallowed. "What?"
"Why did you fall?" She asked. Her reply made no sense, but she knew that it was the best way to get him to talk. Otherwise, they'd be small talking for ages.
"Why did I fall?" He echoed, confused.
"Did you trip or did you fall? That's what I'm asking."
His eyebrows creased. "What's the different between a trip and a fall?"
"A trip is an accident where you, say, aren't paying attention and overshoot a step. A fall is...you faint or feel light headed. And you fell, didn't you? You didn't trip."
"I don't...why do you think that?"
"You haven't seemed well recently, Derek. Just...something about you has just been...off." She returned.
"I'm fine."
"I really don't think you are. Derek-" She sighed, thinking. She had no idea how she was going to put this. "I think there's something going on, and I think it might be why you left me and the kids, as well as why Carolyn is here."
He swallowed, but didn't speak.
"I think it's something specific but it might be something else but-" She swallowed. "You really didn't want that chocolate cake on the day that you first saw the kids. Then you were coughing in the toilet and I have a horrible feeling you were actually throwing up. Then you refused to do something physically draining with the kids. And...Derek, you are so thin."
He couldn't help but feel his heart rate accelerate at that.
"I know I'm not your wife anymore, but I'm really, really worried about you...I think you have an eating disorder. Bulimia, specifically but- I'm not sure."
"Allergies." He spat out after a long second of silence.
"Allergies?" She repeated, confused.
"I'm struggling with gluten and dairy." He lied before smiling at the humour of it. "Both of them, because one apparently wasn't enough."
"Oh." She breathed. "Struggling how?
"Eating, digesting...keeping it down."
"So you were throwing up in the toilet?" She concluded.
He swallowed. "Chocolate cake is uh- a big no go." He expained, which one of the first truthful things he had said.
She sighed. Idiot! "You could have told me."
"Well it was early days, I wasn't quite sure what was going on then."
"So, I'm assuming you've been to a doctor?"
"He wasn't very helpful. But he did help me figure out exactly what it is that I can't eat. Just not sure if it's actually an allergy or digestion generally." He explained. "But I had a scan, so it's not...not something scary."
"Well, cancer would be a pretty good excuse for you leaving me."
He smiled. "It would, wouldn't it?"
"I understand that it's hard for you to figure out your meals now, but you can't just not eat."
"I do eat."
"Then you need to eat more." She answered simply. She felt like she could lean on him and he'd fall over. "And I'm really sorry to ask this but...I mean- you do know that you are alarming thin, right?"
He gulped, and nodded.
"And you know that from when you look in the mirror, right? Not other people telling you?" She pressed, worried about something along the lines of Body Dysmorphia. "Because you have always have been skinny but...nothing like this, Derek."
"I know. And I wish I wasn't but just...I can't eat anything I like anymore."
She sighed. "I get that. And I know the selection of foods you can eat in the gluten- and diary-free section is really crappy, but you really, really need to put on some weight."
"I'm trying. I promise."
She smiled. She thought she was going to have to drag him out of here and put him in a psych ward. But no. Just some stomach trouble. "Okay. And please keep trying. Have you had lunch yet?"
"Yeah."
"With that weird cheese and the gross bread?" She suggested.
He couldn't help but laugh. "I thought you were supposed to be encouraging me to eat."
She smiled. "Right. Sorry."
"An apple juice and lemonade for the love birds."
"Oh. No. Not love birds." Meredith corrected.
"Oh-" She breathed, looking surprised. Her cheeks turned red. "I apologize."
Both of the pair smiled awkwardly at the mistake, and the young waiter rushed away, flushed with embarrassment.
"Poor girl." Meredith sighed.
"Yeah." He agreed. "But um...she does have a point; this does feel a little like a date."
"So what you're saying is you're going on a date?" Cristina summarized.
"We're just meeting up without the kids. That's all. It doesn't mean anything more than that. You know I'm still pissed. Not about the play thing, but the abandoning thing."
"Sure you are. You're definitely not just still in love with him." She sighed through the phone. "I believe you."
"It's meant to be a catch-up where we don't get interrupted by small screaming children." She explained.
He smiled. "I do love the children though, no matter how screamy they are."
She nodded in agreement. At the end of the day, they were their kids. Well, her kids. Her and his kids. Not theirs. There was not plurals anymore. "So, how's the eating going?"
"Okay, I suppose."
"I know it's not what you want to hear, but you still don't look very well.
"Thanks a lot." He said with a smile. The best way to deflect was to turn everything into a joke. He had learnt that.
"I'm just worried. I'm allowed to be worried about-" My husband. The love of my life. "-my kids' father."
He swallowed. "And how about you? Are you okay? I mean- I think you look okay- better than okay- I just mean generally."
She smiled as he made a very similar...mistake to the one she had a few weeks ago. "I look better than okay, huh?"
He smiled. He couldn't help it. "You always look better than okay, Mer."
"At first, I dismissed it. I thought that that didn't make sense, so the patient must just have been lying."
"Right."
"I mean, you know how many people come to the ER just looking for drugs and they don't have anything actually wrong with them."
"Yeah."
"So I told my intern to rerun the bloods because I was so sure that something had just gone wrong. I mean, have you ever had a patient with that kind of number for their WBCs?" Meredith rambled as they walked side by side down the street. They occasionally stopped to look at the window of the shops, and even less frequently actually entered, as they were mainly going to continue their chat.
"Yeah."
"You have?" She asked as she spun around to look at him.
His eyes shut. "I mean- sorry. Um- no. I'm agreeing that it's a really high count."
"Are you okay?" She asked, worried. "You really don't look okay."
"Fink I'm coming down with something." He muttered. "Or maybe I'm just tired. Sleeping well with a broken arm is hard."
She placed her hand against his forehead. "Maybe when I said you looked sick, I was right. I'm not sure you're in the range of a fever, but you're definitely too warm for this kind of weather."
"Mmm."
"You um-" She looked around, and spotted a stone wall. That was the closest to a bench she was going to get. "You sit on that wall over there, and I'll go and get my car. Okay?"
He really wanted to say no, and point out that it was quite a long walk back to the car park. But he didn't have the capacity to do that. "Okay."
"Hey guys." Meredith greeted as she walked into Zola's bedroom to find both of her kids, along with Maggie who had been babysitting them. "Just so you know, Daddy is downst-"
"Daddy?" Zola repeated excitedly as she jumped up.
"Yes, but I'm afraid you can't see him."
"Why not?" She wined.
"Because he's not feeling well. He's just here for a little bit until he feels a little better, but we gotta let him just rest for now, okay?"
Zola sighed, but then submitted, "Okay, Mama."
Meredith smiled briefly before heading back downstairs. She didn't look over to where Derek was sat on the sofa, and instead headed to the kitchen, wondering what in the world she could give him that was both free of gluten and dairy.
This is the last chapter before we find out what's going on.
What are we placing our bets on?
