Covetous pt. 30
"You're not what I expected?"
Michael stood at the foot of a hospital bed, concentrating on the chart that hung on a little hook. He was incredibly relieved to see that his projections had been right, and that the white blood cell count was dropping back to normal levels. That was good - it was better than good. He ran a hand through his mussed hair and yawned loudly, unable to hide his exhaustion because he knew he looked the part.
Last night had been hell! His headache never fully left, probably due to the overwhelming heat that was beating into this city like a well placed fist. He paused, chuckling at the image of a giant boxer's glove pummeling the unsuspecting world below.
You're losing it, man!
He had awoken early, and was surprised to find Natalie asleep at his side. Then he was angry and confused because he was surprised! He needed to get a grip over his rampant fears and speculations before they did some serious damage to.... He frowned, not knowing who they would damage more?
There was no way to ignore that he was unhappy about John's relationship with his wife. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that his brother would ever do something like that to him, but he also couldn't help the jealousy that was quickly taking front and center in his thoughts. There was something going on...something...and he didn't want to know what it was.
Instead he stared at the slumbering redhead who lay peacefully in their big bed, and remembered the day that she smiled from across an aisle and pledged herself to him for life. Their dreams had been so in sync that he never once doubted his desire to marry her and share his life with a truly beautiful and amazing woman!
He was frowning again, stuck in the past which somehow kept bleeding forward into the future? It wasn't much later that he stepped out on that wonderful woman and he couldn't explain why he did it? Sure, Lindsay was the thrill that filled a growing hole inside, but John had said something while they were camping together that he could no longer shake.
...If you need a thrill then go bungy jumping, Mike!...
There were a lot of things that he could have done differently to fix his restlessness or whatever, but he chose Lindsay and now he couldn't help but regret it. He hurt her, he definitely hurt his wife even though she didn't know it yet, and he could still see the look of disappointment in John's eyes when he confessed his knowledge about the affair.
...I saw you with Lindsay...
He swallowed, finding his mind in a basement with a ghost whose opinion mattered more than he wanted to admit.
...I know that you made a promise to Natalie...to God...
...I'm a shitty human being Mike, but I've never pretended otherwise. You know better than anyone what I've done...what I'm capable of doing, but at least the only person I hurt in my world is myself and I've never promised to love someone and then go and fuck someone else...
He wasn't ready to hear the truth then, but he understood it now. He shouldn't have thrown John's lifestyle into the fight, but he reacted, feeling cornered and more than a little surprised to be caught. It wasn't fair to laugh off the anger and hurt because his brother lived his life...differently...and most especially because he wasn't wrong in his blame.
Mike's brain hurt. Thinking about John made his head worse. He sighed, feeling the weight of the air as it pressed around. His involvement with Lindsay was the catalyst to his disaster - the mess of his own making - because if he never cheated on his lovely wife then would he be standing here and worrying over the intentions of a long lost brother?
"Hello?"
His head snapped up, blinking to the here and now, and to the conscious young woman who was watching with interested green eyes. Green! He had wondered what colour they would be? "I'm sorry," he muttered, clearing his raw throat. "I'm Dr. McBain." She grinned, and he felt that weight on his shoulders lighten just a bit.
"Yeah I know," she answered, eyeballing the silver name tag on his white lapel.
He absently touched it. "Oh...yeah." Her brown hair was tangled and he smiled as she tucked it behind her ears.
"I said," she pushed with ease, "you're not what I expected?"
"What am I?" Her cheeks were pink and he felt his heart soar at the sight. Colour was good, it meant that her vitals were holding their own. The young lady shrugged, struggling to sit up, and he darted over to help her because she just got out of neural surgery a few days ago. When she was settled, he instantly took her slim wrist and felt her pulse. It was strong and even and his grin widened.
"So do I pass the test?" she asked, glancing from his touch on her arm to his bright eyes. She couldn't help but laugh when he stepped back awkwardly. "A shy doctor huh? Another thing I didn't expect?"
He crossed his arms, and stared at her with a steady and curious gaze.
Sandra rubbed her eyes, trying to get used to the brightness to the room. She felt strangely fine, although her stomach would disagree since it was rumbling as though she hasn't eaten in a month. Has it been a month? "How long have I been here?"
Michael got a sympathetic expression and pulled a chair to the side of her bed. "What do you remember?" he asked carefully, watching her physical signs while they talked.
"I remember getting on that damn bus and I remember a freakin' semi truck coming straight for us!" She swallowed, and her throat was dry and raw. As if he was reading her mind, he poured some water and passed it without a word. "Thank you," she mumbled, surprised by her comfort level after awakening in a strange hospital room with an even stranger man. "You look like hell!"
He chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. "It's been a rough couple of days, but you look pretty fantastic Sandra. I'm very happy to meet you."
She blushed and then felt annoyed that she was blushing. "You didn't answer my question."
He licked his lips. "Not long. I want to answer all of your questions, but first I need to examine you."
Her lightness evaporated. "Forget it, I'm fine now."
"How do you know?" She was aggitated, but that was understandable given the situation. He was pretty confident that it would pass.
"I just know." she insisted, stubbornly. She was tired of being poked and prodded like a science fair project. Hospitals sucked.
Mike waited a moment, giving her time to calm a bit, and maybe giving himself a chance to decide on how to broach things? "Sandra, how about I make you a deal?" She didn't speak and he smiled softly. He couldn't help but see a little of John in her. "How about we have a conversation, and while we do that you let me check a few things out? No needles, I promise."
She stared in silence for a long time. "You don't have to talk to me like I'm an infant."
"I didn't mean to do that."
She sighed, feeling a tiredness creeping in despite her desire to stay awake. "What's your name, and don't tell me Dr. McBain?"
"Michael."
She held out her hand and watched as he carefully accepted it, shaking slowly. "Sandra Polson. Nice to meet you, Mike."
"So is that a yes?"
"Yes."
He slid the chair closer and reclaimed her hand, reading her pulse while he told her the gory details of her stay at Llanview Hospital. He eased onto the mattess and sat at her side, while flashing a small light into her big eyes. Everything seemed normal. "Are you nauseous...dizzy? Are your eyes blurry?"
She frowned, waiting for him to find her before answering his annoying questions. "When you said we'd have a conversation, I had higher expectations."
Michael blew out a quick breath and reclaimed the chair at the side of the bed. Obviously she was fine, and he liked her damn it! "Sorry."
"So? Are you going to tell me why you look like you're the one who just woke from a head injury?"
"Wow. Say what's on your mind, Sandra?"
She laughed and seemed to relax a little, and by association so did he. It was amazing to be here and talking with her. That wasn't a given and she definitely beat some pretty hefty odds. "I told you already, it has been a rough couple of days."
"What's her name?"
He stared in shock for a brief second, before his mouth moved on its own. "My wife's name is Natalie, my recently ended affair's name is Lindsay, my newly educated on my affair sister in law's name is Jessica, and my long lost brother's name is John, who may or may not be in love with my wife?"
She sat perfectly still, tumbling that information around in her head for a minute. Well, she had asked for conversation? "Wow, busy guy."
He hid his face in his hands, slightly mortified by his impromptu and possibly libel confession to an active patient in his care. "Ugh, and clearly sleep deprived as well." He stood quickly but she reacted and he stopped to keep her from attempting to get up. With this girl there was no way to know whether she'd actually try? "Easy." he said, steadying her and waiting for her to catch her breath. "It's a little too soon to make sudden movements Sandra. Are you alright?"
"Yes. Just don't... I'd like you to stay." He nodded and sat and she felt her heart begin to slow. "I feel like it's been forever since I've talked to someone." Suddenly she felt like an idiot! "You're probably busy, and..."
"...I'm not." he interupted firmly. He didn't want to go anywhere at the moment. "I'll talk your ear off, but only if you promise to sit there calmly and not try to leap any buildings in a single bound."
She chuckled. "Whatever you say, Clark Kent."
"What does that mean?"
"I've heard that you saved my life."
He was touched by the belief, but it wasn't entirely the truth. "You saved yourself Sandra, and I tried to help a little, that's all." They stared softly. "Besides," he began, lightening the mood, "you've been unconscious so how could you have heard anything?"
She laughed again, enjoying the way he put her at ease and so quickly. "It seems that Dr. McBain has a pretty substantial fan club, because I woke earlier for a few minutes and heard nurses talking." She grinned playfully. "That's why you were such a surprise. I was expecting a dark haired Superman with the strength of ten men and unrivaled healing abilities."
Mike laughed hard, imagining that in his head, complete with Superhero costume. It really made his whole morning. "Wow. Sorry to disappoint you."
She shook her head in amusement, holding his watery eyes. "Who says I'm disappointed? I've always been partial to reality myself."
"This from a law student?"
She glowered. "Watch it, Doc. Your people would be lost without my people." She chuckled, holding her stomach. It was a little sore from the laughing.
A voice boomed over the PA, and they both cocked their heads to the sound of his name. He was being paged to his office.
Mike sighed softly, standing at the side of her bed. "I wish I was the hero type, but that's not who I am."
She didn't believe him. "Don't be so sure. All the best superheroes are the one's who are the most screwed up." She returned his wide grin, and her heart thumped when he sat again, ignoring his call. She liked him and she liked not feeling alone in this big place.
He didn't know what to say at first, and that was more than a little awkward. How could he have confessed his messed up life to anyone...to a patient...and one that quite literally regained consciousness a few minutes ago? "Listen Sandra, about before..."
"Is this the part where you try and brush me off?"
He blinked in surprise. "No. This is the part where I feel like a complete jackass for dumping my problems on you when you have your own stuff to deal with." What was he doing?
"How about you let me focus on me, since you have to admit that I AM fine like I said, and then maybe you can continue to treat me like a person and not another chart?" She stared hard, waiting for his answer. "What do you think?"
He didn't know what to think or how to feel, and so he stopped trying to figure it out. For some unknown reason he could talk to this girl, and a voice in the most distant part of his brain was saying ridiculous things like, maybe that's why he was her doctor...and maybe that's why she lived when she shouldn't have...and maybe he just needed this?
Michael ran a hand through his hair and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He watched her watching him and it felt familiar again. "You know, you remind me of my brother sometimes? Just in the way you move...the way you see things?" He shrugged. "It's silly I guess?"
"Do you love your wife Mike?"
He straightened, surprised by the question even though it was pretty logical given the confession that he blurted out like a desperate moron. "Yes I do Sandra, and I know what you're thinking?" She didn't talk and he felt a resentment...much like he did when he was talking to John. Damn it! "Lindsay was a friend, and she also happened to bring a little excitement. It wasn't supposed to matter."
"Judging by the look of you right now, I think it's safe to say that it did." They stared, and she could practically see him struggling with every word in his muddled head. "I'm not a shrink or anything though."
"No, you're not wrong. Of course it matters, and it took my pain in the ass brother to point it out to me!" He stood, aggitated and needing to move. "You know, I'm not used to being the brother that gets the looks of disappointment. John is the one who has always lived on the edge, and he likes it there. I NEVER wanted that so what the hell? Why would I risk losing a life that I've wanted for as long as I can remember over some random sex?" His heart was pounding in his chest.
"Michael," she blurted quickly, needing him to sit because his motion was making her queasy.
He stopped short and saw a look on her face that made him go cold. He was at her bedside in a hurry and checking her vitals. They were elevated but stable, and he relaxed enough to slide back into the chair softly. "No more pacing. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." He paused, meeting her eyes evenly. "I'm never thinking."
She really liked this man. "So tell me something Dr. Mike? How would you feel if your brother and your wife were in love?"
"How would I feel? Are you kidding me?"
"Nope."
He couldn't think. "Look, let me stop you right there. John wouldn't do that to me. You don't know him, and he has done a lot of bad stuff but he would never do that to me. Period."
She dropped her eyes for a second, not sure how hard to push this? "Michael, I know that things are pretty confusing for you right now, but I wonder if you realize what the truth seems to be?"
He didn't understand what she was saying?
She swallowed and continued nervously. Her voice was soft and her eyes were filled with the concern that she was feeling. "You keep mentioning your brother to me."
"Yeah, and? We're talking about my marriage and how he might be in the middle of that."
She shook her head slowly. "No. You're talking about your brother but have said very little about your marriage actually. You say you love your wife, but that's the only mention of Natalie." He was watching her nervously now too, and it broke her heart a little bit. "For example, you insist that John wouldn't do that to you...fall for your wife...but you haven't said whether you think Natalie would return the feelings?"
He stood again, swallowing the lump in his dry throat. "She wouldn't... I don't think that..." Why couldn't he spit out a fucking sentence. Why couldn't he breathe? "Natalie is amazing, and we were so in love when we got married! That doesn't just go away!"
Sandra waited, uncomfortable with how to proceed here. She wanted to help him the way he helped her, but it didn't seem likely at the moment. Not until he wrapped his head around the truth of what was happening in his crazy life. Just as she opened her mouth to try again, another announcement resounded down the hallway of her ward.
Michael willed his heart to calm. He stared at her for a long minute, and then he smiled as warmly as he possibly could. "This wasn't supposed to turn into a therapy session, at least for me. Maybe you should bill me?"
She couldn't keep the grin from her lips. "Well maybe I will? Or maybe you could come back again and sit with me?"
"I could," he agreed, slightly shocked that she wanted anything to do with him at this point. "Alright, I'm gonna go and do some real work. I want you to lay down and sleep, because it really is the best thing for you right now and it will get you out of here faster." She nodded, yawning and laying back on her pillow in comfort. He went to the doorway. "Thank you Sandra," he said softly, but she was already sleeping and he watched her for another minute. His guilt was manifesting itself in strange shapes these days, but he felt grateful for her. Her words were hard to hear, but he heard them. Now he just had to process them.
Michael walked the hallway carefully, navigating it on instinct more than awareness. He was still in that hospital room with a very special young woman. She saw things that he didn't, which would no doubt make her an exceptional lawyer, and he shook his head in amusement while he moved. His mind was stuck on her words. What would he do if John and Natalie were in love?
The point was moot, since there was no way that his brother would ever do that to him. He knew him, trusted him completely. Liar. Michael frowned, stepping from the elevator that took him to his office floor.
Mary was nowhere to be found, and his frown deepened, darkening his face and demeanor. He went to her vacant desk and quickly found the answers he was looking for. She had a family emergency that needed attending and would be back in an hour or two. He sighed, running a palm over his face while entering his office. The space was covered in shadow, but he didn't turn on the light. The wood clicked at his back and he felt like he could breathe for the first time today. In here he was alone. In here he didn't have to be anything for anyone, not a doctor, not a husband...or a brother.
He flopped into his chair, sinking into the leather and closing his weary eyes. Maybe now would be a good time to disappear for a bit? He could slink away into a nearby closet and claim a cot for an hour. Sleep had to be better than reality?
A sharp ring flooded the solitude, piercing the air with the wake up call that he couldn't ignore. There was nowhere to hide because his life was an ongoing mess, and he sighed again, reaching for the cold receiver. "Dr. McBain," he answered softly.
There was a long pause - one that would normally have him hanging up rather than wasting time - but he didn't move a muscle. He simply waited, understanding intuitively that this wasn't a wrong number or a crank call. The weight of his exhaustion was replaced by the growing ice of fear surrounding his heart. He waited in the thick silence until four little words changed everything, and then he hung up.
Michael stared at the phone with wide, bright eyes.
I'm at the beach.
He swallowed nervously, wishing that he wasn't so terrified about his future. He stood and slipped off his lab coat, hanging it on the rack near the door on his way past. He walked the hall and reclaimed a crowded elevator car, undoing the tie that was beginning to feel like a noose around his neck. He nodded to the nurse at the front desk, but offered no explanation to his departure. Instead he walked to the staff parking lot and climbed into his van.
...I'm at the beach...
He drove toward another clandestine meeting, hating how common it was becoming in his day to day life. What would happen once he got there? He had no idea and couldn't even guess, which was the truly terrible part - that and the self-loathing. He drove toward another unkown.
His eyes were on the road, but his concentration was far, far away. Irony was shadowing him at every turn, because it was quickly becoming apparent that this type of life - the exciting and secret rendezvous that promised more than the mundane - was not the stuff of dreams afterall. He wanted the happy home and the normal go to work. He wanted to be bored like everyone else, and he wanted to erase all the pain that he caused with his selfishness.
If only the realization had hit before the damage was done?
Michael kept his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel. All he could do was face whatever came next, and it was fast approaching. He would find it just beyond the next exit.
John followed through the front door of the restaurant, taking the opportunity to scan the new environment with fresh eyes. It was a quaint establishment, not particularly impressive or high-end, but hardly rivalling Crossroads either. There were cushioned wooden chairs around the light pine tables, and they were different shapes and sizes and designs. White marble lay at their feet and white paint covered the sparse walls, which were very lightly dressed with local artist's paintings. His gaze zeroed on the tiny plaque at the bottom of a nearby frame - The Gallery - and he smiled. He liked the vibe, surprised that there was such an instantaneous comfort because he was never quick to warm to new things.
His eyes strayed, watching as Natalie and her mother walked to the far corner to claim what would ultimately be their table. He wasn't surprised to see that it was the best spot in the place. There were high and wide windows from floor to ceiling, and they overlooked the sand of an untouched beach. It seemed obvious that this stretch was privatized since there weren't scores of families or bikini clad patrons camped out around the building, and especially in this heatwave. He stared in silence, appreciating the stunning river view which allowed bright light to shine all around. The restaurant was located on the outskirts of the hopping city, but he could understand the effort to come here for a meal. There was something captivating about this little place?
The tables were adorned with small bouquets of simple daisies, but it was their unique vases that truly caught the eye. They stood proud from their unusual glass holders. Each bunch rose from an old ketchup bottle, now clean save the telltale label, but it somehow added to this entire scene? He tried to wrap his mind around the head-shaking mentality that Victoria Davidson would be eating at a restaurant that utilized condiment bottles as decoration.
He couldn't help but compare Natalie with her mother. Physically they were very different. Natalie's fiery hair was down around her shoulders, while her mother's short hair was as perfect as he remembered. She wore a light sun dress, baring just enough skin to allow some semblance of comfort in this heat, while her daughter was in tiny white shorts and a tight yellow tank. He swallowed. Noticing Natalie's attire was a very bad idea.
They were both strong women, capable of accomplishing just about anything they set their minds too. His one encounter with the Media Mogul told him everything he needed to know about the type of family the Buchanans were, and about what he could expect from this intimate lunch. She would lead the way pretty quickly. He intended on letting her. It was her right to worry about her family, and the last thing he wanted to do was get in the way of the relationship that mattered more to the stubborn redhead than she would openly admit. Besides, despite Natalie's worry over their shanghai'd afternoon, he wanted to give her a moment of normalcy. It was the very least he could do after everything she has given him.
They settled and the ladies sat against the mighty window, staring at one another from across the table. He took a chair to the side, trying not to dwell on how uncomfortable he was with his back toward the room. That was uncontrollable. He learned a long time ago never to expose himself, but this wasn't like his usual world at all. It was a nice restaurant in a nice area of town, and there was no cause for alarm regardless of the gooseflesh at the back of his neck. He absently rubbed it with a shaky palm.
Relax!
No one would sneak up on him here. The only danger came from an observant and patient eye, which seemed fixed on him even now. John swallowed, eagerly accepting the ice water that was being offered by a young waitress. He could feel his pulse racing through every vein.
"Thank you," Vicki acknowledged, with ease.
"You're welcome Mrs. Davidson."
John blinked, surprised that the two were so well-acquainted, but he had to stop judging the daughter and so why not the mother as well?
Vicki chuckled lightly, facing the nervous guest at her side. He was decidedly uncomfortable, but even more so since their arrival. "I hope everything is alright John." He didn't speak right away, once again proving how very different he was from his charming brother. "We could always go somewhere else to eat if..."
"No, this is fine." He twisted in his seat, glancing quickly behind him before refocussing on his hostess. "This is better than I'm used to," he joked, smiling shyly and then taking another large sip of his drink. God, I need a beer!
Natalie was silently observing the two as they talked, and had made a decision at the house to let John deal with her mother since it was his boneheaded idea to accept the offer of lunch. However, as he squirmed in his chair and twitched nervously, she began to see that this went way beyond a surprise meal with a parent. There were lines under his eyes and his hands were moving around, clutching his jeans, the napkin, the water glass - anything within easy reach. She saw a flush over his skin, and her heart began to pound in her already tight chest. It was a look she recognized. It was the same look he wore when he was telling her about Borneo and the horrible things that happened there. "John," she began, staring into his bright eyes when they landed on her in surprise. Clearly he expected to be ignored, and she felt a little sad about that. "Do you mind switching seats with me?" He blinked, but she could see the gratitude in his jittery gaze. "It's a little too bright for me here," she offered by way of explanation.
He nodded slowly and moved to the window, already feeling the growing tension in his body begin to fade. He felt more secure, more in control with the solid wall at his back, and scanned the few patrons in the room who were doing everything they were supposed to be doing. He watched them eat and laugh and talk, and not one of them paid their table a single second of attention. Not even for a moment was there a danger of an attack. He knew that...always knew that...but there was no settling the alarm in his brain, not even with logic.
He refocussed on Natalie, wanting to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. She understood what he needed and was giving it to him, and he felt a strong pull toward the tiny woman who had more power over him than anyone ever has before. He forced himself back to the present, and his eyes darted to a patient and waiting Vicki. Now was not the time to get lost. He cleared his throat. "You come here a lot I guess?"
She smiled softly, nodding. "I have a lot of boring newspaper meetings and a staff that are partial to the food." She stared out the window for a moment. "The view isn't too bad either," she added, unable to hide her amusement. "Were you worried that I would drag you to the Country Club?"
He returned her easy grin. "A little," he admitted openly.
"So how have you been occupying your time in Llanview, John?"
It was a simple question...a completely innocent query...but the answer was anything but innocent. He straightened, wishing that a hole would open up and swallow him. "I've seen a few of the sights...gone on a few runs..." This felt like the worst kind of torture, and that was something that he knew about intimately. "I like it here." He took a slow breath.
She stared, appreciating the way he held her gaze even though it was pretty apparent that he didn't like to talk about himself. "I guess you've been spending a lot of time with Natalie?"
He didn't move right away, and knew that it would be the wrong thing to do anyway. "Yes ma'am, I have."
Vicki smiled widely and drank the last of her refreshing water. "Have you had a chance to see The Gallery, or spend any real time with your brother?"
Natalie sighed softly. "Mom, give the guy a chance to breathe between questions." The waitress returned with a bottle of chilled, white wine and some starters. It was obvious that John was surprised since they didn't order a thing yet, but she knew her mother. The food would keep coming, likely ordered in advance via phone, which told her everything she needed to know about this date. It was a trap, an ambush. It was an interrogation, and nothing as menial as ordering food was going to interfere with any best laid plans. She felt her first stirring of anger.
Vicki chose to ignore the barb and proceed. She didn't know John, but how could she come to know him if they didn't talk? She smiled across the table. "Am I bothering you? I've been told on more than one occasion that I'm too nosy, which is probably why I love the newspaper business so much."
He shook his head, feeling a strange mix of warmth and apprehension. "It's fine. I'd be curious too if I were you."
"Why is that?"
"I drop in out of the blue, keep my life pretty close to the vest, and wind up spending a great deal of time with both of your daughters." His lips felt dry and his heart was pounding, but there was no way he would look at Natalie. That was the kiss of death. This woman would see what he couldn't show if he looked at the stunning blue eyes that were threatening his defenses. "Maybe you have the right to wonder about Michael's long lost brother?"
She eased into her chair and crossed her arms, incredibly impressed with his assessment of the situation. There was no hostility, at least not from him, and she knew that her first impression was the correct one. He was very likable.
Her smile held strong, even though her thoughts were turning to the more practical side of things. She definitely liked John McBain, but that didn't erase the mystery surrounding him. It didn't stop her worry from taking control, because she had one daughter with a wide heart who already trusted him enough to consider him a friend, and another - the wrong one - who felt very protective of this man. She couldn't help but wonder just how friendly they were while Michael was away.
"Mom, you're treating this like some kind of interview or something? I thought this was supposed to be a friendly lunch?"
Vicki blew out an annoyed breath, and stared hard. "Well I guess you're right sweetheart," she began earnestly, "so shall I redirect my attentions to the appropriate person?"
She froze, feeling not unlike a deer in headlights. Idiot! She sat back and crossed her legs, preparing for the fight that would be impossible to avoid. It was, afterall, the real purpose of this afternoon. "I'm not avoiding you. You're being paranoid."
John sat in his chair, perfectly quiet while things took a very different turn at their table. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved to be out of Vicki's crosshairs, or if this was decidedly worse? What he did know was that he was very, very uncomfortable. His eyes strayed, searching the empty beach in a useless attempt at distraction, but to his utter surprise, didn't have to fake interest in the view outside the little restaurant. "I'm sorry," he stammered, standing awkwardly, "but I think you need some time to talk."
"What?"
He blinked, aware that Natalie was not only stunned into silence, but also furious that he would even think of abandoning her. He sighed, staring into her angry eyes with regret, already knowing that this had to happen. "I'm sorry," he said again, meaning it wholeheartedly.
"Thank you, John." Vicki said, grateful to have a moment with her daughter. She smiled in encouragement, and watched as he sauntered toward the restrooms and then out of sight. She stared at Natalie, who was working herself into quite a tizzy. "Honey," she started, "I'm sorry if you think I'm..."
"...being a bully?" She couldn't believe it! He left. He left her alone to fend for herself, and this entire situation was his doing in the first place. "You didn't have to drill him like Uncle Bo does his criminals."
She laughed openly, quickly losing her patience with the attitude across from her. "Oh come on Natalie, stop being so melodramatic. I was hardly shackling him to the chair and shining a light into his eyes." She swallowed some of her wine. "There are a lot of questions surrounding him. How do you suggest I find out some answers, if I don't ask?"
"Why grill him at all? He's Michael's brother! He's here for a visit! What more do you need to know - maybe his social security number or the name and address of girlfriends he's had in his life?"
Vicki sat in her seat and watched as an unexpected aggression took hold of her daughter. Eventually, the bright colour of her cheeks begin to fade and the panic that was so powerful a second ago, began to lose its grip. When she was confident that things were back under control she reached out and took her daughter's trembling hand. "Sweetheart, I love you."
Natalie was losing it! A single tear slid over her cheek and she absently wiped it away, but there was no hiding it. Her mother saw everything, which was the real problem here. There was so much tucked down in the shadows. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I freaked, but you're acting like a reporter and I'd rather you act like my mother."
She sat straight, surprised by the harsh words. "Natalie, I'm always your mother."
This was getting worse, not better. "I know that, alright, I know...it's just... I'm such a mess, and now..."
Vicki was more worried than ever. "Darling, look at me." She waited for her to follow the instruction. "Tell me what's going on with you."
Natalie couldn't breathe. "There has been a lot of stuff lately, and that's all it is. John showed up and Michael's been at work a lot. I've decided to go back to The Gallery full time, and I haven't had a lot of time...to process..." She stopped talking long enough to take a needed breath. "I haven't been avoiding you. I promise."
"You used to be able to lie better than that."
"I'm NOT..." She stopped, biting down on her lip so that she didn't flip out all over again. Their eyes locked together in a fierce battle of wills, and it took a lot to keep her growing anger in check. "You always think you know everything!"
"Not everything, but I do know you."
"I'm fine," she managed through gritted teeth, "and everything is fine. You don't have to worry." There was no retort, which was little comfort, but at least she was no longer pushing. "What?" Natalie finally asked, hating the silence as much as the interrogation.
"If you need to talk, I'm here."
Her eyes softened, along with some of her anger. "I know that."
Vicki eased up. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so much like me," she confessed, buoyed by the quiet laughter that helped to crack the tension between them.
"I bet you do," she teased, smiling and taking a small bite of the crab on her plate. "I meant what I said though, I'm fine. I really am. Everything is going to be just fine."
Her alarm bells were beginning to chime again. "Okay," but she didn't really believe it. There was a sadness enveloping her heart, because whatever it was, would hurt. She had a sinking feeling that there was no stopping it either. "Okay," she said again, wanting to shake the girl until she confessed everything. She wanted to help her, but it was clear that it wasn't wanted right now.
Natalie took another tentative bite of crab. "So what do you think?" she asked nervously.
"About what?"
"About my going back to work full time?"
She took another sip of wine. "I think it's interesting."
There was a long stretch of silence, and with every ticking minute her aggrevation soared to the surface. Nat tossed her napkin over her semi-full plate with flare. "So what does that mean?"
Lord, give me strength. "It's just that two weeks ago you were perfectly content with your life, so it begs the question, why now? What's changed?"
Natalie could barely contain her frustration. "Is it so hard to be happy for me instead of suspicious? I've changed, and I want more with my life. What's so bad about that?"
She lowered her voice, trying to smooth things out before they got into another heated discussion. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to better your life, and of course I'm happy to see you try..."
"But?"
"...but I'm also trying to figure you out." She could see the wheels turning frantically, searching for some meaning to her words. She smiled softly, once again taking a shaky palm for comfort. "You're all over the place, darling. Your emotions are up and down, and you are making serious decisions about your future. How can I not worry?"
She blew out a soft breath. "Can't you just let me handle things my own way?"
"I AM Natalie, but I'm still your mother and want to help you!"
She slowly retracted her hand. "You can help me by trusting me."
Vicki stared at her head-strong daughter for a long time. "Alright, you want me to back off then I'll back off. Only you need to remember that I'm here...whenever you need me."
She swallowed. It was hard because there was a large lump in her dry throat. "I know that, mom."
She leaned forward, crossing her arms over the edge of the table, and held the wide-eyed stare that was waiting for more. "I have one more question for you, and I'd appreciate a truthful answer."
This was the point where she wanted to run screaming from the restaurant, but when she saw the genuine concern directed at her it was impossible to flee the way she longed to do. "What?" she snapped, nervously.
"How are things with you and Michael?"
That was probably the least preferred question that the woman could have asked. Her blood raced, elevating her nerves at a rapid rate. "He's been at work." she croaked, averting her eyes to the napkin that was crumpled in her tight hand.
Vicki could see that she wasn't going to get the honesty she had hoped, and it pricked a little to think that a lie was preferable to her knowing the truth about her own daughter. "Eat your crab, Natalie," she ordered, resuming her lunch.
"Mom...?"
She shook her head firmly, effectively ending the sentence in its tracks. She needed time to deal with her disappointment, and she needed silence to put together all the tumbling pieces in her head.
Natalie sighed, eating although there was zero hunger involved with this meal. She hurt her mother's feelings, but it was a necessary end because the woman was too close to the truth. It was too soon to explain that her heart belonged to another, and it was definitely too taxing to think about the ensuing judgement that would come down on her and swiftly. She was having an affair. She was an adulterous.
That was not a conversation she was ready to have yet, and especially with Victoria Davidson.
