AN: This is the final chapter to this little story.
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!
111
Seth had called to let Jessica know that, just as he could see the end of the day approaching, he'd had an emergency appointment come up that had ended up being a referral to the hospital. She had been pleasant with him, as she always was, and promised that his supper would keep until he got home to enjoy it. Seth figured that people never talked much about the sacrifices a doctor's wife must make—especially in a small town like Cabot Cove—but they were there.
He was happy to see home, when he got there, even though it was much later than he'd anticipated, and he was happy to see Jessica. They might not have as much time before bed to spend together as he had hoped, but at least they had some—and, at least, she was home to sleep in the same bed as him.
Losing Ruth, Seth felt, had taught him to truly appreciate the most precious things in life—the little day-to-day things that it was easy to overlook sometimes. Those things were the memories, he'd found, that most seemed to stick with you when memories were all that was left.
He tried his best not to miss a single one of those moments, now, with Jessica, even though he knew that, naturally, he failed sometimes.
Those moments certainly included the warm comfort of falling asleep in bed next to her, simply knowing that she was his wife, and his love, and she was there with him.
When Ruth had died, the empty bed was what had been the most daunting reminder of her absence for Seth. He'd slept a night or two on various pieces of furniture throughout the house—a sofa or a chair. As long as he didn't "go to bed" and, instead, pretended to fall asleep wherever he might have been, he didn't have to face that she wasn't there, and she would never be there again.
Unlike some of the widowers that Seth knew—many of which had remarried far quicker than he had—Seth wasn't helpless. He could cook his own meals. He could clean. He could wash his own clothes. He could, technically, do everything for himself that Ruth did, but there was no way that he could fake her presence or the companionship that she offered him.
Seth realized, when Jessica had gone away for two nights, that he'd become entirely comfortable with having her sleep beside him. He'd missed her for those two nights.
He was happy, if nothing else, to fall asleep hearing her breathe next to him.
Of course, he also had hopes for a little more attention than that. After all, she had seemed to have that little twinkle of promise in her eye when he'd left her, and he was hoping that hadn't faded during his absence. If it had, he would understand, of course, but a red-blooded man could hope.
Seth came directly into the kitchen and immediately put his bag down in the corner, where they'd both finally agreed it could stay—at least until they had another Hazlitt wandering around the house whose access to things they would have to monitor carefully for safety purposes.
"Smells wonderful in here, Jess," Seth said, walking directly to where she had her back to him, standing at the stove. He put his hands on her hips and, when she made no move to say that displeased her, he relaxed and leaned to kiss the side of her face. Backing away from the greeting to go and wash his hands, he took her in.
Seth smiled to himself. There was no pretending that she hadn't dressed for him. She knew the things he preferred—not that he ever thought she was unattractive, and he'd have been pleased to see her in her most worn bathrobe—and she wore them specially for him, on occasion. Tonight, it was a green dress that reminded him of ones that were popular many years before. He let his eyes drift down her legs—Jessica had amazing legs—and smiled to himself to find that she was barefoot. The kitten heels that she usually preferred had been abandoned, it seemed. The truth of the matter was, though, that Seth found her bare feet sexy. It wasn't that he had any particular interest in feet, though he did love every part of Jessica, but rather that her bare feet seemed to be a promise that they were home, and comfortable, and they would stay that way.
"Jess—you look like a dream," Seth said, washing his hands at the sink.
She looked at him, really, for the first time since he'd walked in the door. She was preparing bread to go in the oven that, once toasted, would be garlic butter toast. He couldn't help but notice that there was a slight bit of aggression in her preparation of the toast, which signaled to him that she was frustrated with something.
"It's probably more of a nightmare," she said, "with everything that's gone wrong this evening."
"Nightmare?" Seth asked. "Whatever happened?"
"I suppose it's not that dramatic," Jessica said with a sigh. "But—it feels like it…"
Seth swallowed back his amusement and didn't point out that their baby was good at making mountains out of molehills for Jessica. She couldn't help her hormones, and Seth knew it wasn't helpful to always point out that she was being influenced by the little life growing within her.
"What happened?" He asked, again. She sighed, once more, in response, and paused in preparing the bread.
"Well—I stayed outside longer than I meant to, really."
"That's wonderful, Jess!" Seth said sincerely. "Woman—why do you look like the sky is falling? That's what I wanted you to do. That was the whole point of trying to make it a more comfortable place for you to spend time."
"But then, I couldn't find anything to wear that I thought you would really like," Jessica said. "I must have tried on a dozen things."
"You look beautiful," Seth said. "Really, Jessica. Beautiful."
She half-rolled her eyes at him, dismissing the comment.
"And then, just when I thought I had everything that I needed on hand to make you a wonderful supper of comfort food, I realized—I didn't have at least one ingredient for everything I could think to make. It was too late to call for a ride to the store, and I knew that it was best not to take my bike out…"
"Absolutely not," Seth said. "I don't care if we're eating peanut butter sandwiches, Jess. I don't want you riding that bicycle right now."
"I didn't," she said. "I just—made what I could, but it wasn't anything I wanted to make you."
"It's your spaghetti with meat sauce," Seth said. She frowned at him and nodded as though she were waiting for him to dramatically disapprove. "Jess—I love your spaghetti with meat sauce."
She sighed again. She hadn't started working on the bread again. She was standing there, bare foot, in the green dress that Seth loved and, apparently, she found subpar, with butter and garlic on her hands from her slightly aggressive buttering of the bread.
And Seth could hardly imagine a scenario where she could possibly take his breath away any more than she did, or make his heart swell more with appreciation that he, simply, was allowed to come home to her.
He reached his hands out, catching her arms, and pulled her toward the sink.
"Come wash your hands," he said.
She did so, and as she did, he kneaded the muscles of her shoulders and neck. She moaned appreciatively, and Seth did his best to put the thoughts out of his mind that naturally came flooding there when she made such soft sounds of approval at his touch.
"The bread is ready to be put in," Jessica said.
Seth laughed quietly, scolding himself for the fact that, sometimes, he was fully aware of never having grown up entirely.
"Something else is ready to put in, too," he teased.
Seth leaned and replaced his hands with his lips, kissing the back of her neck. She moaned again.
"What are you doing, Seth?" She asked.
"Greeting my wife, properly," Seth said. "Come here…"
He let her dry her hands, and then he tugged her with him into the living room. She came, but somewhat hesitantly.
"Seth—I didn't put the bread in…"
Seth let go of her only long enough to make a selection and get the radio playing a record for them to listen to. Then, he took her back in his arms and swayed her gently.
For a moment, she looked absolutely confused, and then the confusion melted away into a warm smile that broke with a little light laughter. She relaxed and sank into his arms.
"What are you doing, Seth?" She asked.
"There are things that are more important than supper, Jess," Seth said. "Like—dancing with my wife, after I spent two days wondering if she was even going to come back, or if she was going to leave me for the glamorous life of some man who calls his home an estate."
Jessica laughed, but she made no effort to pull away from him. She let him lead her in a dance that was barely more than an excuse for him to hold her close and sway her around the living room.
"Seth—you're not serious," she said.
"I'm very serious, Woman," Seth said. "A man like that—has a lot more to offer the illustrious J.B. Fletcher than I do."
"Seth! You're teasing me," Jessica said.
Seth heard it. Her insistence wasn't really insistence. There was a question there. She wasn't sure.
He smiled at her and squeezed her gently.
"A man needs reassurance sometimes," he said.
She softened before his eyes.
"Oh—Seth," she said, in such a tone that made Seth shiver. "You know I only went to meet him because of Grady."
"A-yuh," Seth agreed. "But he's a rich man, Jessica, with a lot to offer you that I'll never have."
She smiled.
"You have a great deal that he doesn't," she said.
"Oh?" He asked.
She nodded.
"You're—kind, whether or not you always want everyone to know that," Jessica said. Seth laughed quietly in response. "You're so handsome."
"He wasn't handsome?" Seth challenged.
"Not to me," Jessica said. "You're…so very thoughtful. Seth—what you did for me…I can't thank you enough."
"I don't want your thanks, Jess," Seth said. "I just want to—honor your memories."
She swallowed a few times, and Seth saw the tears puddling in her eyes. She was determined not to give into them, and he saw her fighting them back with a smile. Only one escaped, and Seth wiped it away quickly with his fingers.
"You're the greatest man I know, Seth Hazlitt," Jessica said. "And you might not be the richest man in Maine, but…you're the most important to me. You're my husband, and you're…you're the father of our baby."
Seth saw the quick flash of it as it registered in her eyes, as it always did. She was doing her best to adjust to it—to really believe it—but each time it came up, it was still something of a surprise.
Seth smiled at her.
"It sounds good to hear you say that, Jess," he offered. "Does it feel good to say it?"
She nodded her head.
"It's still hard to breathe when I say it," she confessed. She laughed quietly and he took the opportunity to sway her a bit more, tightening his hold on her for a second. He moved to kiss her, and she accepted without hesitation, deepening the kiss.
"Holding you, I'm feeling like the richest man in the world right now, Jessica," Seth admitted.
"You're flattering me," she said, raising her eyebrows at him.
"A-yuh, he said with a nod. "I'm trying, especially if it's taking."
"You need to let me go and finish getting your supper ready," Jessica said.
"Will it burn, Jess?" Seth asked.
He saw a flush of color come to her cheeks. She considered it and shook her head.
"The spaghetti was hot, so I took it off the eye so it wouldn't burn…and wouldn't be too hot to eat. I didn't start the bread at all, yet."
Seth requested another kiss, and she granted it. He reached a hand around, cupping her bottom and squeezing it. The sound that escaped her was something like a whine of appreciation, and Seth broke the kiss when he couldn't fully hold back his own reaction.
"As man of this house," he said, "I say—I want to have my dessert first, Jessica."
She smirked at him.
"I didn't make anything for dessert, Seth," she teased.
He groaned at her joke, rolled his eyes for her amusement, and then laughed, himself.
"I guess I'll just have to have what we have on hand, Woman," he said, squeezing her. "Spaghetti always tastes better after it's had a little time to sit. What do you say, Jess?"
"It's going to get cold," Jessica said.
"I like cold spaghetti," he countered. "Especially when—dessert builds up a hell of an appetite."
She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Bedroom?" She asked.
"Woman, I'll take you right here on the rug, if that's what you're offering," Seth said.
She laughed.
"I wouldn't want the carpet burn," she said.
"Couch, bedroom—kitchen table," Seth said.
"Now you're sounding more like a teenager," Jessica teased.
"That's what you make me feel like," Seth said.
"That kitchen table would never hold."
"But it would be fun breaking it," Seth said with a laugh.
"Some other time," Jessica said. "For now—let's go upstairs, Mr. Hazlitt."
"You don't have to tell me twice," he said, tugging her toward the stairs. "But—I'll take a raincheck on that table adventure, Jessica."
She laughed, and he pushed her up the stairs in front of him, pretending to rush her, but purposefully keeping a hand on her, just in case she tripped in her playful ascent. Her giggle—downright girlish—rang in the stairwell and made his heart beat faster.
"It doesn't get better than this," he mused, following her.
"I don't know," she teased. "If you're lucky…it's about to get a lot better."
Seth laughed.
"Good thing I'm feeling like the luckiest man in the world," he teased.