It's been almost a year now since I nervously posted the first chapter of this, not sure about the response it would receive. To say I've been blown away by the love would be an understatement. So many of you have been supportive and encouraging me, even through long waits as I struggle with real world things and with getting the chapter just the way I want it. Thank you all SO much and a particular shout out to patrickpopp, who gave me my first review and has continued to encourage me at every new update.

Pick Up or Aisle 10: Chapter 18

Returning the chart on her final patient of the shift, Lucy smiled when she noticed a familiar figure in the waiting area. She paused, studying him as he looked around the room.

Finally, his gaze came to rest on her. He smiled, and she found herself smiling in return, a warm feeling settling in her stomach.

He got up and crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of her. Hands in his pockets, he looked down, relaxed smile in place.

"Fancy meeting you here," she quipped with a saucy grin.

"For once, I don't mind being in an emergency room, since it means getting to see my beautiful fiancee."

"And that is the only reason I ever want to see you in my emergency room," she told him.

"I'll do my best."

"Heading in to work already?" she asked.

"I usually head in early to beat the worst of the traffic," he told her. "This morning, I realized that my granddaughter had a good idea, meeting you for breakfast, and I thought I would do the same, since your night shifts and your need for sleep mean we're not getting to see each other as much."

"True."

"I know you have plans with Nicky and Eddie and you need to get home and get some sleep, so we can make it pretty quick." He reached out, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "But I'm missing spending time with you," he admitted, wondering to himself when that had happened.

"Me, too," she agreed softly, pressing her cheek into the palm of his hand.

"I certainly hope I'm interrupting something here," a voice said.

They turned to find a man in a white coat leaning against the reception desk. He gave them a knowing grin.

Lucy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Just making breakfast plans, Chuck," she told him, looking at her watch, "Since I was off shift 5 minutes ago."

He nodded, all business again. "Anything I need to know?" he asked, picking up a tablet to study the wait list.

Stepping away from Frank, she filled him in on the night's activity, signed off on paperwork, and wished him a good day.

Plans set, the couple went their separate ways, him to claim a table at the restaurant, her to change. She arrived to find him studying the newspaper over a cup of coffee. He was watching for her and welcomed her with a smile, folding his paper before rising. Pulling out her chair, he leaned down to kiss her softly before returning to his place across from her.

After placing their orders, Frank cleared his throat and looked at her.

"How's the packing going?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Like I said, there's really not much to do. You've seen my house. I live a pretty minimalist lifestyle. Your place is already fully furnished, so I guess I don't really need to move any of that stuff."

"We can shift stuff around, if there are pieces that are important to you or that you really like. We'll make room."

After a moment, she shook her head. "I don't have much in the way of personal mementos or things, A few pictures. The stuff from the mantle. Oscars stuff."

She looked to gauge his reaction and he nodded.

"That's all boxed up. My clothes are packed up, with the exception of a few things for the next few days, though I'm probably going to need to buy a few things pretty soon. Have the hospital order me some new scrubs."

Frank started to say something, then shook his head.

"Yes, My clothes are starting to not fit right in places," she told him.

"Can't see any difference," he said.

"Good answer."

He smiled. "I've been educated on the proper response to comments about changes in the female body."

"Good."

The conversation paused as the food was brought out, tasted, and declared satisfactory by both.

"Have you made arrangements for movers?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It seems a waste. Right now, I only have a dozen or so boxes and I can move those in my SUV."

"Does that include your office? Books? Desk? Other furniture?"

"No. That's nor really urgent and I might actually need to hire help for that. I realized going up and down the step ladder with my arms full of books is probably not a good idea."

"Definitely not," Frank told her sternly.

"The problem is, as a single woman living alone, I'm always a little bit leery of having strangers come into my home to do things."

"That's wise. I can probably get Danny and Joe to come help. Maybe Sean, too. Get things boxed up and over to the house. Danny's got a van, too, so they can take a load of boxes, too. And if you do want to bring some of your bigger things, furnish your office, we'll figure something out."

"I really don't want to impose," she told him.

"It's no imposition," he countered. "It's what family does for each other. We want you to have what you need to feel at home."

"Thank you."

"In fact, Pops is busy consolidating stuff in the kitchen to make room for your stuff there," he added.

She toyed with the food on her plate.

"Are you sure? Because the kitchen isn't really big and I know that's his space and I don't want him to feel like I'm trying to move in or something."

"You are moving in," he reminded her.

"Exactly. I'm moving into his house. I don't want him to feel like he's being pushed aside for me or my things."

He reached across the table and took her hand. "Our house, Lucy. Our home. We want you to know that you belong there. To feel safe and comfortable."

"I know. And I appreciate it. It may take some time, though."

"He's looking forward to having you there. We both are. He cooks, you bake, which he has explained are very different things. And we know that baking is important for you. You work in a high stress field and you need an outlet for that. And if that means we have to eat a few extra desserts, then so be it," he told her with a smile. "It's a sacrifice we'll just have to make."

"What about you?" she asked. "You also work in a very high stress job. How do you deal with it?"

"Alcohol."

"Very healthy."

He flashed a smile. "Never in excess. I've also been known to head to the firing range and take out a few dangerous paper targets."

"Revenge for all those paper cuts," she laughed.

"And fishing, of course. There are few things more relaxing than tossing out a line and waiting for the fish to bite. Do you fish?"

"I have. I love camping and depending on where I am, I'll usually catch something to supplement what I bring with me."

"Camping, huh? What kind of camping and where?"

"Cabin or tent. Or sometimes, just out of the back of my SUV. I'll take a few days here or there at one of the parks or beaches around here and take a week or two for a road trip during the summer."

"So, you'd be up for a fly fishing trip to Alaska?"

"Sounds amazing."

"We'll definitely have to do that, then."

"I'll look forward to it."

He sighed heavily. "I also walk."

She looked confused.

"Because of the stress."

"Walking is good."

"Usually at night. Sometimes most of the night. Instead of sleep."

"Insomnia?"

He nodded.

"Often?"

A shrug. "More often than I like."

"Have you seen anyone about it?"

Another shake of the head.

"Reagans don't do that."

"Don't do what? Mental health?"

"You know. Therapists. Talking. Drugs." He looked up at her. "Not that there's anything wrong with any of that for people who need them. I just don't."

"So…weak people?"

"I didn't say that," he corrected. "It's not like I look down on people who seek help. I mean, even Danny saw someone for a while. Anger management. Strongly recommended by internal affairs."

"Did it help him?"

"Maybe? It wasn't too long after Linda died. That, on top of his time in Fallujah. Losing his Mom. Joe. He just needed a little extra support for a little while."

"What about you? You served. Probably saw things. Buried your mother. Your wife. Your son."

"The whole therapy thing didn't work for me. I tried it a time or two, but in the end, I managed just fine on my own."

When she didn't speak, he continued.

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with therapy for people who need it, but I didn't. I don't.

"Because you're strong."

"Because I can handle it."

She started to respond, then shook her head and dropped her gaze to her meal.

"Of course you can."

He reached across the table to touch her hand.

"I know you said something about having some counseling when you were younger. I'm glad it helped you and I truly don't think it's a sign of weakness. You are one of the strongest people I've met," he assured her.

She squeezed his hand and smiled slightly. "Thank you."

"It just wasn't for me."

They finished breakfast, talking about their plans over the next few days. When they had finished, he paid the tab and walked her to her car.

"You okay?" he asked as she dug her keys from her bag.

"I'm fine."

"Because you got pretty quiet in there. After we talked about the therapy stuff."

"Sorry. Just tired, I suppose," she assured him, not meeting his gaze.

He gently placed a finger under her chin and lifted it so he could look her in the eyes.

"Talk to me."

She looked at him a moment, then sighed.

"We had an attempted suicide brought in last night, so the mental health stuff is really on my mind right now, I guess."

"Attempted. That means you were able to save them, right?"

"We got him stabilized and sent him into surgery. He may pull through, but I'm not sure we did him any favor."

"Why not?"

"It was ugly, Francis. I'm sure you've seen what happens when someone puts a gun in their mouth and pulls the trigger. Sometimes they don't angle it just right and they survive, like this one did. The amount of damage done is going to cause long term issues for him."

He pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry."

She relaxed against him, finding comfort in the feel of his arms around her and the pressure of the soft kiss he pressed onto the top of her head.

Finally, she pulled away and looked up at him.

"Thank you. For breakfast. For the hug. I needed that."

"Any time," he told her, reaching to brush her hair back from her face.

He kissed her, then opened her car door.

"Sleep well and have fun shopping," he told her as she slid into the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition.

"Fun and shopping don't generally go together for me," she told him, rolling her eyes. "I don't suppose I could get married in jeans and a sweatshirt?"

"I'm not much for shopping either, though I did have a recent grocery stop that ended up changing my life."

"What a coincidence," she laughed. "So did I."

He grinned. "As far as I'm concerned, you can wear anything you like. I thought you looked pretty cute in my sweatshirt and socks," he told her.

"I wonder if that would make me look more like a gold digger or less?" she contemplated with a laugh.

Frank shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lucy. There were a lot of comments made that were out of line."

"It's fine," she assured him. "As long as you know the truth."

"I do. If anything, it could be construed that I'm the gold digger, since you make more than I do."

She waved off his comment. "No worries. I know you're far more interested in my body than my money," she told him.

He shrugged and grinned. "Well, it is a very nice body."

She grinned back at him, then rested a hand on her stomach.

"For now, anyway," she replied.

He leaned down to look her in the eye.

"Growing our children won't make you or your body any less beautiful," he told her.

"Just keep that in mind when you have to help me out of chairs or help me put on shoes and socks because I can't reach my feet," she told him, a smile on her face, but a glimmer of worry in her eyes.

He locked his eyes on hers, his expression serious.

"Absolutely."

She studied his eyes, finally accepting the truth she saw in them, and nodded.

"Thank you."

XXXXXXXXXX

Eddie's checkup had gone well and the doctor had told them he would see them again in another month. On the drive home, she studied the newest ultrasound pictures they had been given.

"I can't believe he's going to be here in just a couple of months," she commented.

"I know," Jamie replied, a trace of irritation in his voice.

She turned her attention to him.

"What's that about, Bub?" she asked.

He blew out a breath and glanced over at her.

"Sorry. It just seems like it's going so fast and I just don't feel anywhere near ready for him to be here," he admitted.

"Really? 'Cause it seems to me that I've been pregnant forever," she countered, smoothing her shirt over her rounded belly. "I can't remember the last time I could actually look straight down and see my toes."

"They're as cute as ever," he told her with a smile.

"They're fat," she protested. "Just like the rest of me."

"You're not fat," he countered. "The doctor said your weight gain was right on target. Which is really good since you started out by losing weight."

"Yeah. I'm certainly glad to be past throwing up at the very thought of food."

"Me, too," he told her. "I really hated seeing you so sick and not being able to do anything about it."

"I know." She reached over and squeezed his hand.

"I was glad to see your blood pressure was good," he added. "I was afraid it would be high with all this crap my dad and that woman are pulling."

He pulled into a parking space, then went around the car to help her out. Hand in hand, they rode the elevator to their floor. She closed and locked the door, then turned to face him.

"It's Lucy."

"Huh?"

Frank's fiancee. Her name is Lucy, not that woman. And if my blood pressure was up, it wouldn't be because of them or anything they're doing, it would have been because of you and the crap you're pulling."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"It means," she told him, matching his defensive stance, "that I've not been myself these last few months and haven't been a very good wife."

"You're a great wife," he told her.

"No, I haven't. Our relationship has always been about supporting each other and backing each other up. But it's also about accountability and calling each other out when needed and I haven't been doing that."

She sighed and continued. "This whole pregnancy has not been the way I envisioned it. I've been stressed and insecure."

"Yeah. Me, too," he admitted.

"I know. And I've been trying to not add mine to yours by keeping it to myself and not upset you."

"That's not how it works, Eddie. We share. Help each other through."

"I just felt like you were carrying so much. Working the long hours and trying to take care of me and the cooking and cleaning and trying to get us into a house. I didn't want to make things worse for you. I didn't want to say or do anything to upset you or make you feel more pressured."

They had both moved to sit at the table and he reached out and took her hand.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like that."

"It wasn't really anything you said or did. I just heard so many people talking about how pregnancy and having kids put more stress on their relationship. Even my mom warned me not to be needy and demanding because you already had a lot going on."

"You're one of the least needy people I've ever known, Eddie Janko-Reagan," he told her with a laugh. "And the only place you're demanding, I have no problem with whatsoever," he added, nodding towards the bedroom.

She smiled back, then shook her head.

"My point is: I've gone all Stepford Wife trying to be something that you never asked me to be and I haven't been what you did want me to be. Your partner."

"Sure you have been."

"I haven't. I know you've been stressed and frustrated, and you've gotten abrupt and short tempered and pissy and I haven't called you out on it."

He leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I have not."

"Yeah, you have. I've let it go because I hoped it would pass and I know this is a lot, but I realized it's not fair to let it go. It's not fair to me and it's not fair to all the others who have to put up with your pissy attitude and it's not fair to you because, frankly, you're starting to cross from pissy to asshole territory."

"You're calling me an asshole?"

"Not quite, but dangerously close."

"Because I don't like that woman? Sorry. Because I don't like Lucy?"

"Because you accused your dad of cheating on his wife."

He had the grace to look slightly abashed at her reminder.

"I never met her or saw them together, but I know without a shadow or a doubt that he loved her'

"Loves her," he interrupted.

"Loves her deeply and would have never cheated on her."

Her voice softened and she reached for his hand again. "But she's been gone a long time and Frank deserves a chance to have someone in his life again. If anything ever happens to me, I certainly don't want you to spend the rest of your life alone."

He shook his head and started to speak, but she continued.

"Not right away, of course. But I want you to have someone."

"I could never love anyone else the way I love you, Eddie."

"Of course not. Someone else would be different than me, so you would love her differently than you love me. Not necessarily more or less, just different. And that's okay. In fact, that's good."

"And maybe, I'd be okay with it if I thought they actually loved each other," Jamie told her. "But this marriage isn't about love, it's about manipulation and lies and her using him and he refuses to see it."

"What do you think she's lying about?"

"All of it. The chance meeting. The sex 'just happening.' The pregnancy. The fact that it's too risky to do a paternity test. It's all just too neat and too much to her advantage," he told her.

"You think she planned out the whole thing? With the gangbangers? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds, Jamie?"

"Okay, maybe not all of it," he conceded. "But it seems to me that she certainly took advantage of the situation and his nature. His need to look out for people. Take care of them. She saw that and used it to manipulate him."

"You really think so? Because the Frank Reagan I know is a pretty savvy guy when it comes to reading people."

"He is. Smart and level headed. And I just don't buy the whole 'swept up in the emotion of the moment, explanation," he told her.

"You don't think that kind of thing happens? Fear turning into passion?"

"Not really," he told her. That's just something lazy writers use in a movie or television program when they don't want to take the time to let things move along naturally between characters."

She studied him for a moment.

"Do you remember the morning we got engaged?" she asked.

"Of course. One of the happiest days of my life."

"And the night before?"

"One of the happiest nights of my life. As well as one of the most exhausting."

"And the day before?"

He shook his head. "Not the same thing, Eddie."

She tilted her head slightly. "Really? Because it seems pretty similar to me. That guy tried to kill you and came pretty close to doing it. When we got home that night, we barely got the door closed before we were going at each other. Pulling clothes off. Needing to touch. To connect. We didn't even make it to the bedroom the first time. Or the second time."

"But we were already in an established relationship, Eddie. Living together."

"And they had been talking and flirting with each other, according to your dad. They were clearly attracted to each other."

"They had known each other for a couple of hours when they fell into bed together!"

He shook his head. "Look, I really don't want to talk about Dad's sex life and I don't want us to argue over this. She's not important enough."

"But she's important to your dad, Jamie. She's going to be a part of this family. Going to be his wife. The mother of you younger siblings."

"Danny, Erin, and Joe are my only siblings," he told her. "And just because she cons my Dad into marrying her doesn't make her family."

"De Nile ain't just a river in Africa," she muttered. "Technically, it does, Jamie. Whether you like it or not. And, it's not up to you. This is Frank's life and his decision. And this seems to be what he wants."

"You'd be okay with some gold digger going after your dad? As long as it was what he wanted?"

"First of all, a gold digger would have to be pretty stupid to go after my dad. Between his time in prison, the fines, and the restitution, he's not exactly an ideal target for someone looking for a sugar daddy. Mom had some old family money that the courts couldn't touch, so that's what they're pretty much living off of. Secondly, my dad pretty much WAS the gold digger. Going after people to get their money for his scheme."

Jamie got up and went to the cabinet, grabbing a couple of glasses and filling them with water. He set one in front of her, then leaned against the counter.

"Why are we even talking about this?" he asked, taking a drink. "I'm sure we can find a better topic of conversation."

"Because I love you and I love your family and I really hate seeing you at odds with Frank and Henry." She took a deep breath. "And because I'm going to see her this afternoon and I'm wanting to do it with an open mind."

He stared at her.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I feel for her. And I feel bad about not being more welcoming. I knew your family pretty much, but becoming a part of such a tight, close knit family is a bit unnerving. I also understand being pregnant and a little insecure all the while trying to make it in a professional boys' club."

"Why would you set this up, knowing how I feel about her?"

"I didn't set it up. Nicky actually called me yesterday. She said she was feeling really bad after Henry's comments on Sunday, so she went to the hospital to see her after her shift ended. They had breakfast together and got to talking and Nicky offered to help with all the last minute stuff for the wedding. They're going dress shopping today and she asked me to come with them."

"And you agreed."

"I declined at first, precisely because I knew you wouldn't be happy about it. Nicky said that she really likes her and she wants me to get to know her."

He snorted. "If you saw some of the guys Nicky has dated, you wouldn't have so much faith in her judgment on such matters."

It was her turn to snort in response.

"You do remember that we swapped dating horror stories a few times on those long shifts, right? Not to mention double dating a time or two? We've both had our share of bad choices there, Jamie."

"I suppose," he admitted in a low voice, resuming his seat across the table from her.

"Anyway, Nicky pointed out that Lucy and I have a lot in common. We're both about to become mothers."

"Allegedly," he muttered.

She decided to ignore him and continued.

"We're both intelligent women, working and succeeding in fields traditionally seen as jobs for men. We both want to help people. We're both cute blondes," she added with a grin.

"You are anyway."

'''And we both adore your father and grandfather."

"If you really cared about them, you'd want this woman as far away from them as possible," he told her.

"But they care for her, too."

"They've been conned by her. They feel sorry for her because of the lies she's been feeding them."

Eddie shook her head. "That's not what I saw. They both jumped to defend her. She and Frank were touching. A lot." She reached across the table to take his hand again. "LIke people do when they care for each other."

"But it's an act on her part."

"In your opinion."

"And Erin's."

"It's what Frank wants," she retorted.

"So, you're just going to let Conor have whatever he wants, even if it's not good for him or is dangerous for him? Because he wants it?"

"Of course not," she replied. "As parents, we will make those decisions for him. While he's little. But there will come a point where those won't be our decisions to make for him. And they've never been, where your father is concerned. He's an adult and gets to make his own decisions. Just like you and I do."

"But he's making a bad decision."

"Again. Your opinion."

"You're okay with it? With him marrying a total stranger we know nothing about. Just because she claims to be pregnant with kids she won't even prove are his?"

"That's why I'm spending time with her today, Jamie. So I can get to know her a little bit and form my own opinions about her. And they both said that testing is not a risk they're willing to take. Just like we decided, in spite of my age related risks," she reminded him.

"I know. But Dad's got a lot more at risk. His income. His pension. His part of the house. He could be on the hook for child support for the next 18 years, even if the kids aren't his."

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him.

"Is that what this is about? His finances? You're worried about this affecting what you might possibly inherit at some point?"

"Of course not," he answered. "He doesn't owe any of us anything. I don't even know what his plans are for any of it when he's gone. As far as I'm concerned, he can spend every last cent of it. I just don't want her leaving him and Pops without in their final years. They've worked too long and too hard to be cheated out of everything by some con artist."

"I'm sure that's not going to happen."

"Come on, Eddie. We've both seen it happen way too often. Some lonely guy, including some very intelligent, competent ones gets taken in by a pretty girl with a sob story and she takes him for everything he's got."

"So, you think your dad is lonely?"

"Not lonely, exactly. I mean, he's got all of us."

"But there are needs that we just can't meet for him." Jamie made a face and started to speak, but she held up a hand to forestall him. "And I'm not just talking about sex. There are things you can share with your significant other that you wouldn't want to burden your parents or children with."

"Maybe. But she's not right for him."

She cocked her head. "Why are you so convinced she's a bad person?"

"Why are you so convinced that she's not?"

"I'm not. At this point, I don't have enough information to decide either way. But I trust your dad. And I owe it to him to have his back."

"Why do you feel you owe him?" her husband asked curiously.

"Because he told me he would always have mine."

"He did?"

"Before he walked me down the aisle at our wedding," she explained. "I was so embarrassed to ask him after that speech he gave at the rehearsal dinner about me being independent and not belonging to anyone and all that. But I told him that I was having this recurring nightmare about tripping on the hem of my gown and face planting in front of everyone."

She took a drink and continued.

"He didn't laugh at me or tell me I was being silly. He just told me he'd always have my six and offered me his arm."

"I admit I kind of wondered how that happened but never got around to asking."

"That's how it happened. And he's kept his promise."

"I guess."

"You guess? He and Henry spent several days taking care of me either here or at their house when my morning sickness was so bad I could barely function and you had work you couldn't reschedule. He's also the one who took me to the hospital when it got really bad and they ended up admitting me for fluids. He sat with me while we were waiting for you to get there. He told me that everything would be okay and that I was a great mom."

"Yeah. And I appreciate that."

"But not enough to feel like you can support him."

"It's not that simple, Eddie."

"Then explain to me so I can understand what makes it so complicated," she pleaded. "I need to know what you're having a problem with."

He looked at her in disbelief. "My 60 something year old father had a one night stand with a woman young enough to be his daughter. She's now claiming to be pregnant by him…with twins, no less…and he's planning to marry her, even though he barely knows her and has absolutely no proof that he's the father and you don't understand what my problem with the situation is?"

"I just don't understand why you're taking it so personally. This isn't about you, you know. Or your mom."

He stood up, shaking his head. "I'm going for a run."

"You're just gonna leave?"

"I just don't want to have this conversation right now," he told her, heading into the bedroom to change.

When he came back, she stood up and walked to the door with him. She reached up to caress his face.

"I'm sorry, Bub. I know this is hard for you."

"I just can't…not now…"

"Ok. I'll be gone when you get back, but I know that your runs help you clear your head, so I want to give you one more thing to think about."

"Eddie."

"No, just hear me out."

He finally nodded.

"You asked me if I would give in to our son. Give him everything he wants, whether it's good for him or not. Whether I think it's good for him or not."

"Sorry. That really wasn't fair."

"No, it wasn't. Along the same lines, though…when a time comes…and it will come…when he makes a choice that you don't agree with, will you withdraw your support and love for him? Are those conditional on him always doing exactly what you want him to do?"

Before he could reply, she stretched up to kiss him.

"Have a good run. Be careful out there. I love you."

Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers for a moment, then sighed.

"Love you too."

Placing a kiss on her lips, then on her stomach, he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes, then headed out the door.

She watched him walk away, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his concerns and her heart hurt along with him.

Feeling the baby stretching, she rested her hands on her belly, drawing comfort and joy from the reminder of the life growing inside of her.

"There's nothing to worry about, Conor. Our family is going to be just fine."

She wasn't sure whether she was trying to reassure him or herself.

And that's another chapter complete. The Eddie/Jamie conversation gave me problems and I reworked it several times, trying to more towards some reasonable explanations for their out of character behavior. I think I'm finally comfortable that it feels like them. I hope you agree. As always, I appreciate the time you took to read and would love to know what you thought.