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rainbowfic2012-05-03 12:04 am
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2012-05-03 12:04 am
Entry tags:
- author: kat,
- color: blush,
- color: rose,
- story: in the heart,
- style: graffiti,
- style: miniature collection,
- style: paint-by-numbers,
- style: portrait,
- style: reimagining,
- style: saturation,
- supply: acrylic,
- supply: canvas,
- supply: feathers,
- supply: frame,
- supply: glitter,
- supply: modeling clay,
- supply: nubs,
- supply: seed beads
Rose Saturation and Blush 13: Roses in December
Author: Kat
Title: Roses in December
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Rose saturation, blush 13 (on your arm) with Isana's paint-by-numbers (Gail and Nathan, realizing they’re totally in love.)
Supplies and Materials: Portrait, miniature collection, acrylic (For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool/By making his world a little colder - Hey Jude), feathers (Your character makes a personal discovery), modeling clay (love), reimaging (First Impressions/Impressing, Falling, pretend), nubs (What Happened, Peace), seed beads, graffiti (May Flowers), glitter (define what love means to you), canvas, frame.
Word Count: 6000.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Gail and Nathan, through the years.
Warnings: character death, much sexytimes, some mild ableism and sexism.
Notes: HAHA SATURATION PWNT. FOR GREAT JUSTICE. It took me a freaking hour to code all this. I hope you're happy.
25. Love thou the rose, yet leave it on its stem.
This blind date thing made Gail uneasy. Dating with an infant was hard enough, and she had easy access to babysitters. Dating with a toddler who could and would raise an unholy fuss if she felt unhappy with how things were going would be wretched.
It was more than that, though. She had a daughter, now, and however much Ivy drove her mad, her child was still the most precious thing she'd ever had. Forever and always, Ivy would come first. She had to.
Still. This man was a father, too. Maybe he'd understand.
It was worth a try, anyway.
--
Nathan hadn't dated since Melanie.
And yeah, half of that was because he'd been hurting, and that was long over. But there was still Aaron, still his son, who looked up at him with such trust in his eyes that it made Nathan's heart quail.
Aaron wasn't like his mother; he didn't have the ability to pack up and leave when Nathan failed him. And the thought of disappointment in those eyes felt like a punch to the gut.
This woman with her clever green eyes and her two-year-old daughter, he thought she might understand.
He hoped she did, anyway.
2. A relationship is like a rose, How long it lasts, no one knows.
She did understand, and he let out a long, silent breath when she said so, on their second date.
"I have to put my daughter first," she was saying, over coffee, her sharp green eyes worried but resolved. "If it comes down to you and her, I will always pick her."
"And so you should," he replied, immediately. "I'm glad you said it first, come to that."
She tilted her head to the side, eyes suddenly merry. "Most men don't see it your way."
He thought of Aaron, and smiled, albeit a little sadly. "Most single men don't have children."
--
"You'd be surprised," Gail said dryly, and steepled her hands. "So where do we go from here?"
He shrugged, stirring his own coffee absentmindedly. "Wherever it goes, I assume. Wherever we want it to go."
A safe enough answer, in its own way. "And if it has to end because of the children...?"
"No hard feelings," he said, with gratifying speed. "If it ends, it ends. If it doesn’t..." He trailed off, looking suddenly thoughtful.
Gail looked away from him, down at the plastic table. She wasn't ready for that yet. "All right," she said. "Let's see where this goes."
8. Beauty without virtue is like a rose without scent.
He didn't push, and she was more grateful for that than she could say.
She'd dealt with pushy men her whole life. Her father, God bless him, who meant well, but still tried to shove his daughters onto his favored path. Douglas, who had just been so forceful that he sucked people along in his turbulent wake. Brad, who... well, the less said about Brad the better.
And here was Nathan, easygoing, who took the lead sometimes and followed her at others. Dating him was less like a battle and more like a dance.
She could get used to this.
--
It was remarkably easy, being with Gail.
Not that keeping up with her wasn't work. She was like quicksilver sometimes, all energy and shifting moods, from bright to ruthless in the blink of an eye. At least he never had to guess her mood-- she would tell him, and probably at length.
And yet it was precisely that trait that made everything easy. If she was upset, if she was tired, if she was angry or happy or amused, she told him. It was up to him to react correctly, but she at least would tell him.
Easy as breathing.
17. A rose is a rose is a rose.
For their sixth date, he took Gail sailing-- he borrowed Davy's sailboat and took her around the harbor, showed her the landmarks, let her wave to the tourists on the Statue of Liberty ferry. She didn't love it the way he did, but she still laughed at his jokes, leaned over the side of the boat in evident enjoyment, undid her hair and let the wind blow through it as he tacked back to the pier.
He didn't know where they were going. There on the water, watching the sun spark her hair into brilliant flame, he didn't much care.
--
Nathan loved the water, and sailing. She could see it in his face as he moved around the boat, pulling some ropes, loosening others. He wore a lifejacket-- because, he'd told her, he wasn't stupid-- but he looked so at home she didn't think he'd need it, on the off-chance that they capsized. Which also didn't look likely.
There was something beautiful about his face as he turned into the sun, half-closing his eyes against the wind. She wondered if he looked at his son that way.
She wondered if he looked at her that way.
She hoped he did.
28. If I had a rose for every time I thought of you, I'd be picking roses for a lifetime.
About three months into their relationship, after he'd met Ivy but not long after, Nathan started popping into her thoughts with increasing frequency.
Some inappropriately timed fantasies, of course, and something had to be done about that, but they didn't catch at her. No, that was the others. She thought of him while she was playing with Ivy, or when she heard a joke she knew he'd love. She thought of him when she made dinner, or a cup of coffee. She thought of him--
She thought of him all the time.
Something had to be done about that too.
--
Nathan found himself picking up little things because Gail would love them. Not even things he'd choose for himself-- a scarf, a pretty little glass vase, a flower, a pear. Things he'd seen her with, things she'd talked about, things he just thought suited her taste. He didn't always buy them, but he always picked them up,
He'd never done that with Melanie. Which was an awkward thought to have-- he didn't, as a rule, compare them. But there it was; he felt like he knew Gail better now, after three months, than he'd known Melanie after three years.
Huh.
23. Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk.
Nathan hadn't been this tipsy since the night Aaron was born.
"College," Gail said, when he asked her. "An ill-advised party. 'S Kim's fault." Which, since it was Kim's husband's fault he'd gotten drunk the last time, he could believe.
He said so, and added, "They're birds of a feather."
Gail giggled, a pink flush rising in her cheeks, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. "Me too," she said. "I like feeling... I like feeling loose."
"Lush," he said, affectionately, put his arm around her waist, and enjoyed the way she snuggled up against him, cushy soft and warm.
--
Gail felt all loose and lazy-boned, comfortable in a way she hadn't been for too long. Not drunk-- she'd never liked the loss of control that came with being drunk-- just tipsy enough to slur her words a little, and cuddle in closer to Nathan than she'd ever managed before.
"We should have sex," she said, contemplatively, and made him choke on his drink.
"What, now?" he asked, when he'd finished coughing.
"No," she said, dragging out the vowel, and kissed his cheek again. "When we're sober. But we should have sex."
"I won't disagree," he said, ordering another beer.
15. Man is harder than iron, stronger than stone and more fragile than a rose.
Ivy was at her grandparents', and Aaron with his mother, and Gail had Nathan all to herself, his sweet crooked smile and broad chest, his big hands cupping her breasts, his mouth against her neck.
She loved to touch him. She hadn't realized how much she'd love it, but every second her hands were on him was a new little miracle, his muscles hard under her hands, his eyes hot with desire. Mine, she thought, and "Mine," she said, and laughed when he growled against her hip.
Then his mouth was on her, and colored lights flashed behind her eyes.
--
"Go slow," she said in his ear, when he nudged against her, "it's been a while."
Nathan laughed breathlessly and said, "Me too," then let himself sink into her, a slow and gentle slide. Her nails dug into his shoulders, small pinpricks of pain against the glory of her body. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, until she let out a small gasp and threw her head back, baring her throat, hands flitting from his chest to his hair.
He wasn't going to last very long, tight and melting-hot as she was.
He'd make next time better.
29. Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.
He wasn't sure when she became indispensible.
Probably it happened gradually, sneaking up on him like a wave. All he knew was that one morning he rolled over and reached for Gail, and was shocked by how automatic that motion was. She spent the night very rarely; there was no reason to expect her there, and yet he did.
At work, he filed things away to tell her later. He counted the days between dates. He started calling her in the evenings, just to hear her voice.
"You're gone, Nathan," Davy told him solemnly, and that was when he knew.
--
She knew she loved him because of Ivy.
It wasn't because of Ivy that she fell in love, though his obvious adoration for the bright center of her life certainly didn't hurt. It was just... he loved her daughter so much, as if Ivy was his own child. He was certainly a better father than Ivy's biological parent had ever been. And she could see them so easily in ten years' time, Ivy a sullen teenager, Aaron rolling his eyes at her foolishness, and she and Nathan just trying to survive Ivy's adolescence, together.
Oh yes, she loved this man.
9. How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill?
"I asked you once," she said abruptly, a year in, "where this was going, and you said wherever we wanted it to."
He stiffened a little in his seat, but she saw no sign that he'd understood. "Yes," he said. "We said a lot of things then."
Oh. She bit her lip, reminded herself to be brave, and said, "I know... I know where I'd like it to go."
Nathan cocked his head, a silent invitation.
"I would like," she said, "to stay with you, for a very long time. For the foreseeable future at least. Does that sound good?"
--
He'd remembered another part of that conversation and braced himself for an ending, not a beginning; he hoped she didn't take his huff of surprised air the wrong way.
"It sounds good," he said. "It sounds very good. I love you."
She smiled, the bright, happy smile that made her unutterably beautiful. "I love you too," she said, and came over to sit on his lap. "It occurs to me that we probably should have said that sooner."
"Several months," he said, putting his arms around her waist. "But I won't complain if you don't."
She laughed, and kissed him.
5. You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.
He brought Aaron over one sunny summer afternoon, as neat and tidy as he could make a nine-year-old. Aaron kept twitching at his tie, but he did not complain; in fact, he didn't say a thing, just watched everything with big brown eyes and a thoughtful expression.
Nathan thought of Ivy's boundless energy and bossiness, and winced inwardly as he knocked on Gail's door.
Please God let it go well. Please God, let them like each other. Nathan was probably going to propose to Gail regardless of the outcome of this meeting, but it would be easier if...
Please God.
--
It was a good thing Aaron was as easygoing as his father, because in no time at all Ivy had him firmly under her thumb, towing him around her room, showing him her favorite toys, imperiously directing him to do this or that. Aaron looked slightly bemused, but he went along with it; he even seemed to be enjoying himself.
"Thank God," Gail said under her breath, and poured herself a glass of wine.
"One for me too, please," Nathan said, and smiled at their children. "I'm glad they're getting along."
"It's a very good sign," Gail agreed, and poured.
3. A single rose can be my garden...a single friend, my world.
They went ring-shopping the day after he proposed-- by accident, which Gail didn't ever intend to let him forget-- standing arm-in-arm at jewelry counters, examining the offerings. Most of them were too flashy, too expensive, or both. After a couple of hours, Gail was beginning to think she'd have to settle for a plain gold band.
The last saleswoman heard them out, then said, "I think we can help you," reached over the silver diamond rings and picked up a gold band, etched with an abstract leaf pattern.
"That's it," Gail and Nathan said together, and smiled at each other.
--
Her wedding band made him think of her, subtly pretty, deceptively simple, an inexpressible beauty just under the surface. His was much less symbolic in and of itself; just a plain gold band, wider than his first, and a bright gold to match Gail's, but otherwise essentially the same.
In and of itself, it was just a ring.
On his hand, it meant so much more; a second marriage, a commitment he never thought he'd make again, a heart he hadn't thought to have. Gail's heart in his keeping, his in hers.
Nothing, he thought, was ever just a ring.
4. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
It wasn't the sort of thing you could lead up to easily, so he didn't bother.
"I want to adopt Ivy," he said to Gail, sitting beside her a week or so before the wedding. "After we're married."
She looked up sharply at him. "You don't need to do that," she said.
Nathan shook his head. "I don't think I need to do it, I want to." From love, and more... if something happened to Gail, he wanted a claim on Ivy no one could contest. "I feel like her father already, Gail. I just want to make it official."
--
What was she supposed to say to that? Start with the obvious. "I love you," Gail said, and watched his face relax into a smile. "I don't see any reason why you shouldn't adopt her, if it's what you really want."
He reached over and took her hand. "It's what I really want."
"Then she should have your name," Gail said, decisively. "Since I'm not changing mine. We can hyphenate. Ivy Hirschfeld-Kendall."
"Has a nice ring to it," he said, and kissed her. "Can I tell her?"
She laughed at the boyish eagerness on his face. "Of course," she said.
18. The rose is a flower of love. The world has acclaimed it for centuries. Pink roses are for love hopeful and expectant. White roses are for love dead or forsaken, but the red roses, ah the red roses are for love triumphant.
Gail wasn't much for roses. They seemed overdone to her, lovely, but cliché, overly expensive, and a sign of little imagination. But some things were cliché for a reason, and some clichés still had meaning.
She chose forget-me-nots and violets for the wedding proper, the bridesmaids, pews and centerpieces, because she liked the colors, and because they were relatively inexpensive. She carried them in her bouquet too, because she believed in consistency.
In among the violets and the forget-me-nots, she carried one red rose, and before she tossed the bouquet, she pulled that one out.
She also believed in love.
--
When they shook off the wedding party and the guests, sent Ivy off with her grandparents and Aaron off with his mother, and were finally, blessedly alone, Gail gave him the rose she'd carried in her bouquet.
"What's this for?" he asked, accepting it, and running his fingers over the velvet-soft blossom.
"For you," she said, smiling. "Because... I don't know. It just felt right."
Nathan smiled at her, then looked at the rose cupped in his hands. "It does feel right," he said. "Everything feels right today."
"Then it is right," she said, and he'd never believed her more.
16. The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.
Gail kept snorting over her book, once or twice even covering her mouth to muffle a giggle. Eventually his curiosity got the better of him, and he put his own book down. "What are you laughing at? I thought that was a romance novel, not a comedy."
"That's what I'm laughing at," she said. "Corrugated abs, indeed."
"What?!" He took the book when she offered it, and scanned the marked page, feeling his eyebrows rise sharply. "My God. You weren't kidding."
"Nope," she said, brightly. "Honestly, though, any sex scene that involves the word 'undulating' tends to make me giggle."
--
He snorted, shaking his head. "As well you should. You do many things in bed, but you don't undulate."
Gail contemplated her husband for a moment. "No," she said, and leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "I squirm."
She was rewarded by a slight quickening in his breath. "You do squirm," he said, after a moment.
"I don't, ah, 'make a pleading sound' either," she said. "I just beg."
Nathan looked at her for a moment. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
"About time you caught on," she said, and yelped happily when he hauled her into his lap.
12. Love is like a rose. It looks beautiful on the outside...but there is always pain hidden somewhere.
The fight started because she wanted a baby, but it wasn't really about that.
"We can't afford one," Nathan had said, brusquely, as if that was that, even though she hadn't meant right now. In a few years, maybe, when he'd moved up in his firm and she'd gotten her promised raise. But he'd just dismissed it, like it wasn't even a possibility.
And yes, maybe she'd been a little snappish when she asked him to pay attention, but he hadn't even listened to her. He still wasn't listening to her.
She didn't think she could face him right now.
--
He still wasn't sure why they were fighting.
It wasn't financially possible to have a baby now, even if they both wanted it-- and he wasn't, at this point, sure that he did want another child. They had two brilliant and lovely children, after all.
But Gail hadn't been interested in listening to him. Instead, she'd accused him of not listening to her-- ha!-- and stormed off without letting him get a word in edgewise.
If this was the way their fights were going to go, he wasn't sure he could handle it.
At least he knew she was angry.
22. Be a rose which gives fragrance even to those who crush it.
She came back about half an hour later, looking somehow both annoyed and sheepish. Nathan looked up at her warily. "Are you going to snap at me again?"
Anger twisted her face briefly, then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "No," she said. "I didn't know I had snapped."
"It sounded like it," he said, less warily, and patted the couch.
She sat down, folded her hands in her lap, took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I walked away. I didn't want to shout at you."
"Okay," he said. "Apology accepted. Why were you angry at me?"
--
Seriously?
She closed her eyes and took another breath. He was asking because he genuinely didn't know. "I felt like you were being dismissive."
She heard him doing his own deep breathing. "Well, I certainly didn't mean that. It just... I feel like we're not ready for that discussion yet."
"For..." She checked herself. "Not ready how?"
He shrugged. "Financially. Emotionally. I don't know."
Gail looked down at her hands. "When will we be ready?"
There was a long, tense silence.
"I don't know," he said, at last. "But I promise I will tell you."
She supposed she'd take that.
21. The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns; the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the rose.
Gail slammed her stack of papers on the table and said, "My God, I hate my job."
Nathan leaned over the chair to kiss her cheek, and said, "Good evening to you too. What's wrong this time?"
"Parents," she snapped. "Why isn't my child reading yet? Why is my precious child only counting to ten? What's wrong with you?" She inhaled, forced herself to calm down. "What's wrong with them, more like. Ivy was reading at four."
"Ivy is brilliant," Nathan pointed out. "Do they usually blame you?"
"Yes." She signed, leaned forward and pinched the bridge of her nose.
--
Ouch. Nathan circled around behind her and began massaging her shoulders. "Can you make them go away?"
"No," she said, and leaned back towards him. "Keep doing that. No, I wish I could."
"Hmm." He applied a little more pressure. "So why do you keep teaching?"
"The kids are wonderful," she said, slightly muffled. "I love watching their eyes light up when they get it at last. I think..." She stopped, and then said, affectionately, "You bastard."
"Hmm?"
"Making me feel better like that." She turned in his arms and kissed him. "I love you."
He smiled. "Love you too."
10. But he that dares not grasp the thorn / Should never crave the rose.
They offered him the promotion on a Friday, and gave him the weekend to think about it.
"I have no idea if I should take it," he told Gail, that evening. "It's more money, but... it's also a lot more work, and a lot more travel. I don't know if I'm ready for it."
Gail took both his hands in hers, squeezed them. "You are ready for it," she told him, earnestly. "You're very good at your job, and you deserve this promotion. You deserve everything they're giving you. Take it."
He smiled at her. "I will then," he said.
--
Nathan took one look at her face and jumped to his feet. "What is it? Gail?"
"Roger Berquist offered me a job in the Department of Education," she said, feeling stunned.
"Holy shit," Nathan said, and came forward, beaming. "Congratulations, that's amazing!"
"I know, but..." She bit her lip. "It's a big step. Not even a step, it's a jump. A skydive. And I don't know if I have a parachute."
He looked at her for a moment, then said, "Gail, you're married to me. You always have a parachute."
She smiled at him, and felt a bit less stunned.
19. There is nothing more difficult for a truly creative painter than to paint a rose, because before he can do so he has first to forget all the roses that were ever painted.
In the middle of work, Gail realized that she was late. She was never late.
She couldn't wait to get home, or even for her lunch break; she ran to the department store down the street, bought a test, and took it back to the bathroom by her office.
Five minutes later, she bolted out of the bathroom, collected her things, told her boss she'd be out for the foreseeable future, and hailed a cab.
Nathan had taken the day off. She wasn't sure why, but she was grateful for it when she found him sitting at the kitchen table.
--
"I'm pregnant," Gail said, and Nathan's whole world shifted.
He'd been about to ask why she was home in the middle of the day, but that seemed fairly irrelevant now. Instead, he said, "You're sure?"
She beamed at him. "Test was positive. I'll have to get a blood test to be sure, but..."
"But you're pregnant," he finished, joy bubbling up in his chest. "Oh my God, Gail!"
She laughed, the same joy he felt bright in her voice, and tumbled into his lap, kissing him fiercely. "I'm pregnant!"
"You're pregnant," he agreed, and lifted her up on the table.
14. The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.
"From this interview," the therapist said, carefully, "I can reach only one diagnosis. Are either of you familiar with Asperger's Syndrome?"
From the way Gail stiffened beside him, he was fairly sure that she did. "I'm not," he said, worry closing over his throat. "What does it mean for our daughter?"
The therapist sighed. "It means she's on the autism spectrum. She'll always have trouble socially, understanding and talking to people. The sensitivity issues will continue. She may become irrationally obsessive about minor subjects."
His baby. His poor baby.
Nathan closed his eyes, and put a hand to his heart.
--
Later, when Summer was in bed, they talked.
"It's good to know," Gail said, softly. "We can help her now."
"She'll need it," Nathan said, rubbing his forehead. "God. Autism."
Gail looked sharply at him. "She's still our daughter. She's still Summer. We just have a name for it, now."
"I know," he said, and gave her a quiet smile. "It's just... she'll have it so hard."
True enough. She took his hands. "Summer will be fine. She's our daughter. She'll be her intelligent, beautiful self, and she'll be fine."
"I hope you're right," he said.
She knew she was.
6. Life is a rose; beware of the thorns.
Gail came home upset and frightened, rubbing her shaking hands across her face, and found her husband in their bedroom. She didn't-- couldn't-- dance around the subject. "Nathan, someone tried to frame me for embezzlement."
"Holy Jesus," he said, and went to her, pulled her tight against him. She burrowed into his arms, still shaking. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she said, "Jake caught him, but God, I can't stop shaking. Why on earth would someone do that?"
He held her tighter-- she closed her eyes and pressed her face harder against him. "I don't know, love. I don't know."
--
Later that night, Gail still tucked against him, Nathan stared at the ceiling and had an epiphany. "Do you suppose..." he started, and trailed off. Maybe she didn't want to talk.
"Suppose what?" she asked.
No help for it now. "That man," he said. "Who tried to frame you. I think it might not have been personal, just... I think he just hated that you were female and his boss."
"Oh." She hummed for a moment. "You know, I think you're right. If it wasn't personal, if it was just because I was there... that helps."
He could understand that.
1. Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.
Someone was talking about Gail in the admin bullpen. Nathan detoured.
"...mean, really, she should have expected it," the newest guy was saying to Rita, who looked alternately amused and horrified, as Nathan came up behind them. "Having sex where just anyone could see her."
"You're an idiot," Rita said.
"It was a twelfth-story office," Nathan added. The guy whirled, horror crossing his face. "And if you're going to be sexist about my wife, you can clean out your desk now."
"You can't fire me," the guy said, weakly.
"I think you'll find I can," Nathan said, and walked away.
--
One of the reporters, Alicia Witt, pulled her aside after the conference. "Seriously?" she asked. "Off the record, that was really your husband?"
Gail narrowed her eyes. "Yes. It was our anniversary and I hadn't seen him in awhile."
"I get that," Alicia said, and disgust crossed her face. "But you could do so much better."
Gail stared at her until she removed her hand, then said, "If you say anything like that ever again, consider yourself banned from all future press conferences."
"Oh, come on!" Alicia said. "I was only joking."
"It's a terrible joke," Gail said, and left.
7. The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.
Her mother called her just after dinner, her voice choked with tears.
Gail didn't know what Nathan saw in her face; whatever it was, he shooed the kids out of the room, then put his arms around her. "Your father?" he asked, softly.
She said nothing, because there was nothing she could say. Her father had been sick for so long, it was inevitable. They both knew that, she and Nathan.
But it still killed her inside. Her daddy was gone.
She buried her face in his shoulder. Nathan didn't bother with words; just rocked her and let her cry.
--
The anniversary of his mother's death was a tough one.
Not that he didn't grieve his father, but Daniel Kendall was a misty, semi-heroic figure in his memory. He'd only been eleven, after all, and his father had been gone for a year before that.
But his mother-- he remembered every agonizing moment. She'd been in so much pain when she died.
Gail knew. He didn't know how, since he'd never told her, but she knew. She generally took the kids somewhere for the day.
He loved her so much sometimes, he didn't know how he could breathe with it.
26. Why is it no one ever sent me yet one perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it's always just my luck to get one perfect rose.
It was really annoying how Gail always seemed to know just what to get him for his birthday.
Well, pleasing, too, because it spoke to how well she knew him and how much she loved him. Annoying, because he always felt like he couldn't return the favor. He got her flowers, always, because they made her smile, but that didn’t seem like enough. She enjoyed plays, so sometimes he got her tickets, dinner out, a private night for the two of them.
Come to think of it, she seemed to like his presents well enough.
He was still annoyed, though.
--
Gail adored her husband, she really did. She loved every sweet smile, every well-timed hug, every soft or passionate kiss. But if he didn't stop getting her the perfect present without any effort at all, she was going to smack him.
It was aggravating. She would agonize for days over what to get him, and though she would eventually manage something that he loved, she never managed quite the same level of nonchalance he had. He just seemed to know what she wanted, magically, and got it for her.
The bastard.
She didn't know how she could love him more.
11. The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.
The whole family gathered for their twentieth anniversary, children and adopted children, Gail's sister, Nathan's best friend. There was a massive party which neither of them had to plan, a sit-down lunch and a dance party in the afternoon, and then, miracle of miracles, all the guests cleared out. Ivy and Gina even took Summer for the night.
They had sex, of course. Gail didn't know about Nathan, but she still wanted him, more with every smile he gave her. Afterwards, she lay in the circle of his arms, and thought drowsily that the twenty-first anniversary would be even better.
--
Twenty years. He'd never thought they'd make twenty years.
Well, he had, when he'd thought about it. It just hadn't been something he pictured on a regular basis. One day at a time was enough for him, but one day at a time piled up, and here they were twenty years later, still in love, still wanting each other as much as the day they'd married.
He looked down at Gail, her tousled red hair loose across his chest, and smiled. Some things never changed. He'd never stop loving this woman.
He hoped their twenty-first would be just like this.
20. But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.
Nathan's best friend was named Davy Spillane. They'd been in the Navy together, mustered out together (Nathan because of Aaron, Davy because he wanted to run a sailing business), watched baseball and drank beer together. They'd been each other's best man. They talked about a lot, too--jobs, children, wives (Davy's was named Emma, and she frankly terrified Nathan).
But there were some things even Davy didn't know about, some things he only talked about with Gail. Regrets. Heartbreaks. Private joys.
Davy was still an excellent friend. There was no changing that.
But his best friend was really named Gail.
--
Gail's best friend was named Kim Mulcahey, and as obnoxious as she could be sometimes, she'd been there for Ivy's birth and she had introduced Gail to Nathan. For that, she would forever be precious to Gail.
It was interesting, though, as her marriage went on, how much she talked about twice; once with Kim, once with Nathan. She got different viewpoints, of course, but it was remarkable how often their opinions coincided. And if she could only talk to one..
She loved Kim dearly, and she always would.
But if she had to choose, she would always choose Nathan.
24. One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon-instead of enjoying the roses blooming outside our windows today.
She found Nathan staring into the little trunk where he kept his regrets, a thoughtful but (thank goodness for small favors) not upset look on his face.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, pausing beside him and looking down past his shoulder.
He started a little, and twisted to look up at her. "Oh, nothing. Just looking at this." He picked up his first wedding ring. "I was thinking maybe it was time I got rid of it."
Gail smiled down at him. "If you're ready," she said, "I'm glad."
He blew her a kiss, and shut the trunk.
--
Ivy called around six in the evening; Gail ended that call with an oddly thoughtful look on her face.
Nathan regarded her for a moment before he decided to ask. "What was that about?"
"Her biological father is dead," Gail answered, distantly. "I'm... trying to decide how I feel about it."
He blinked. He'd never met Bradley Spitzer, but he'd heard plenty. "Not sad, I hope."
"No..." She drew out the vowel, thoughtfully. "No. Not happy, either. Actually, I don't feel much at all."
He shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"Not really," she said, and smiled at him. "Hasn't for years."
27. Footfalls echo in the memory, Down the passage which we did not take, Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden.
"You know," Nathan said thoughtfully one day, "I almost didn't go on that date. The one Kim set up."
Gail raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Why not?"
"Aaron, mostly." He propped his chin on his hand, staring out the window. "You know. I didn't feel like I should be dating when I had him to think about."
"I do know that feeling," she said, sounding rather wry. "I’m glad you did decide to go, though. I don't know where I'd be without you."
"I don't know where I'd be without you," he said, and stretched. "Nowhere good, though. That's for sure."
--
She didn't tell him, but after that first date he almost hadn't gone on, she had almost not called him.
She didn't tell him because it had had nothing to do with him. He had been wonderful, a prince among the frogs she'd dated until then. He had been so wonderful he was almost too good to be true.
She'd gone home and she'd watched Ivy sleep for an hour, trying to decide what to do. Trying to decide whether to take the chance.
She was so, so glad she had. Her life would be so much colder, without him.
30. God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December.
"My favorite memory," Gail began, "is that picnic. You remember, the one where you first met Ivy? She was so little then."
"I remember," Nathan murmured, and she caught a fleeting smile on his face.
"The one we took Ivy and Aaron on after they met, too. It was such a pretty day, and the leaves were falling." She touched the leaves engraved on her wedding ring. "We felt like a family for the first time. I remember that. We felt like a family."
"I remember," he said again, stroking her hand. "It was a beautiful day. In all senses."
--
"Mine," he said, after he'd thought about it for a while, "is that day we all went to the Cloisters, the four of us. Ivy was actually behaving herself and Aaron was taking pictures of everything, and we got to sit in that beautiful courtyard and smell the flowers, you remember?"
"I do," she said, softly. "Ivy and Gina still go there."
"It made an impression on her too," he said, smiling. "Yes. It was another one of those beautiful days. Do you think we'll have another?"
"I think we'll have hundreds more," she said, firmly.
He almost believed her.
13. Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness, know that, like life, things sometimes must fade, before they can bloom again.
Gail was behaving rather mysteriously, lately.
She was upset, though she was trying to hide it, and it bothered Nathan that she wouldn't tell him that she was upset, much less why. That had been the one thing he had always been able to rely on from her: in forty-six years of marriage, she had never held back. But she was doing so now.
He'd ask her tonight, he decided. When she got home. He'd cuddle her against his chest and he'd ask her what was wrong.
He'd be there for her. He always had been. He always would be.
--
She sat with him for a little while, after.
She'd never been uncomfortable with the dead, and anyway this was Nathan, or his body, at least. She'd spent almost half a century with him; she could never be uncomfortable around him. They knew almost everything about one another. What was there to fear?
She wasn't sad yet. She would be, she knew, soon. She'd have to tell her children soon, tell them everything, and that would break her heart.
But for now, she was still with him. She'd be with him again soon, permanently.
How could that make her sad?
Title: Roses in December
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Rose saturation, blush 13 (on your arm) with Isana's paint-by-numbers (Gail and Nathan, realizing they’re totally in love.)
Supplies and Materials: Portrait, miniature collection, acrylic (For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool/By making his world a little colder - Hey Jude), feathers (Your character makes a personal discovery), modeling clay (love), reimaging (First Impressions/Impressing, Falling, pretend), nubs (What Happened, Peace), seed beads, graffiti (May Flowers), glitter (define what love means to you), canvas, frame.
Word Count: 6000.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Gail and Nathan, through the years.
Warnings: character death, much sexytimes, some mild ableism and sexism.
Notes: HAHA SATURATION PWNT. FOR GREAT JUSTICE. It took me a freaking hour to code all this. I hope you're happy.
25. Love thou the rose, yet leave it on its stem.
This blind date thing made Gail uneasy. Dating with an infant was hard enough, and she had easy access to babysitters. Dating with a toddler who could and would raise an unholy fuss if she felt unhappy with how things were going would be wretched.
It was more than that, though. She had a daughter, now, and however much Ivy drove her mad, her child was still the most precious thing she'd ever had. Forever and always, Ivy would come first. She had to.
Still. This man was a father, too. Maybe he'd understand.
It was worth a try, anyway.
--
Nathan hadn't dated since Melanie.
And yeah, half of that was because he'd been hurting, and that was long over. But there was still Aaron, still his son, who looked up at him with such trust in his eyes that it made Nathan's heart quail.
Aaron wasn't like his mother; he didn't have the ability to pack up and leave when Nathan failed him. And the thought of disappointment in those eyes felt like a punch to the gut.
This woman with her clever green eyes and her two-year-old daughter, he thought she might understand.
He hoped she did, anyway.
2. A relationship is like a rose, How long it lasts, no one knows.
She did understand, and he let out a long, silent breath when she said so, on their second date.
"I have to put my daughter first," she was saying, over coffee, her sharp green eyes worried but resolved. "If it comes down to you and her, I will always pick her."
"And so you should," he replied, immediately. "I'm glad you said it first, come to that."
She tilted her head to the side, eyes suddenly merry. "Most men don't see it your way."
He thought of Aaron, and smiled, albeit a little sadly. "Most single men don't have children."
--
"You'd be surprised," Gail said dryly, and steepled her hands. "So where do we go from here?"
He shrugged, stirring his own coffee absentmindedly. "Wherever it goes, I assume. Wherever we want it to go."
A safe enough answer, in its own way. "And if it has to end because of the children...?"
"No hard feelings," he said, with gratifying speed. "If it ends, it ends. If it doesn’t..." He trailed off, looking suddenly thoughtful.
Gail looked away from him, down at the plastic table. She wasn't ready for that yet. "All right," she said. "Let's see where this goes."
8. Beauty without virtue is like a rose without scent.
He didn't push, and she was more grateful for that than she could say.
She'd dealt with pushy men her whole life. Her father, God bless him, who meant well, but still tried to shove his daughters onto his favored path. Douglas, who had just been so forceful that he sucked people along in his turbulent wake. Brad, who... well, the less said about Brad the better.
And here was Nathan, easygoing, who took the lead sometimes and followed her at others. Dating him was less like a battle and more like a dance.
She could get used to this.
--
It was remarkably easy, being with Gail.
Not that keeping up with her wasn't work. She was like quicksilver sometimes, all energy and shifting moods, from bright to ruthless in the blink of an eye. At least he never had to guess her mood-- she would tell him, and probably at length.
And yet it was precisely that trait that made everything easy. If she was upset, if she was tired, if she was angry or happy or amused, she told him. It was up to him to react correctly, but she at least would tell him.
Easy as breathing.
17. A rose is a rose is a rose.
For their sixth date, he took Gail sailing-- he borrowed Davy's sailboat and took her around the harbor, showed her the landmarks, let her wave to the tourists on the Statue of Liberty ferry. She didn't love it the way he did, but she still laughed at his jokes, leaned over the side of the boat in evident enjoyment, undid her hair and let the wind blow through it as he tacked back to the pier.
He didn't know where they were going. There on the water, watching the sun spark her hair into brilliant flame, he didn't much care.
--
Nathan loved the water, and sailing. She could see it in his face as he moved around the boat, pulling some ropes, loosening others. He wore a lifejacket-- because, he'd told her, he wasn't stupid-- but he looked so at home she didn't think he'd need it, on the off-chance that they capsized. Which also didn't look likely.
There was something beautiful about his face as he turned into the sun, half-closing his eyes against the wind. She wondered if he looked at his son that way.
She wondered if he looked at her that way.
She hoped he did.
28. If I had a rose for every time I thought of you, I'd be picking roses for a lifetime.
About three months into their relationship, after he'd met Ivy but not long after, Nathan started popping into her thoughts with increasing frequency.
Some inappropriately timed fantasies, of course, and something had to be done about that, but they didn't catch at her. No, that was the others. She thought of him while she was playing with Ivy, or when she heard a joke she knew he'd love. She thought of him when she made dinner, or a cup of coffee. She thought of him--
She thought of him all the time.
Something had to be done about that too.
--
Nathan found himself picking up little things because Gail would love them. Not even things he'd choose for himself-- a scarf, a pretty little glass vase, a flower, a pear. Things he'd seen her with, things she'd talked about, things he just thought suited her taste. He didn't always buy them, but he always picked them up,
He'd never done that with Melanie. Which was an awkward thought to have-- he didn't, as a rule, compare them. But there it was; he felt like he knew Gail better now, after three months, than he'd known Melanie after three years.
Huh.
23. Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk.
Nathan hadn't been this tipsy since the night Aaron was born.
"College," Gail said, when he asked her. "An ill-advised party. 'S Kim's fault." Which, since it was Kim's husband's fault he'd gotten drunk the last time, he could believe.
He said so, and added, "They're birds of a feather."
Gail giggled, a pink flush rising in her cheeks, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. "Me too," she said. "I like feeling... I like feeling loose."
"Lush," he said, affectionately, put his arm around her waist, and enjoyed the way she snuggled up against him, cushy soft and warm.
--
Gail felt all loose and lazy-boned, comfortable in a way she hadn't been for too long. Not drunk-- she'd never liked the loss of control that came with being drunk-- just tipsy enough to slur her words a little, and cuddle in closer to Nathan than she'd ever managed before.
"We should have sex," she said, contemplatively, and made him choke on his drink.
"What, now?" he asked, when he'd finished coughing.
"No," she said, dragging out the vowel, and kissed his cheek again. "When we're sober. But we should have sex."
"I won't disagree," he said, ordering another beer.
15. Man is harder than iron, stronger than stone and more fragile than a rose.
Ivy was at her grandparents', and Aaron with his mother, and Gail had Nathan all to herself, his sweet crooked smile and broad chest, his big hands cupping her breasts, his mouth against her neck.
She loved to touch him. She hadn't realized how much she'd love it, but every second her hands were on him was a new little miracle, his muscles hard under her hands, his eyes hot with desire. Mine, she thought, and "Mine," she said, and laughed when he growled against her hip.
Then his mouth was on her, and colored lights flashed behind her eyes.
--
"Go slow," she said in his ear, when he nudged against her, "it's been a while."
Nathan laughed breathlessly and said, "Me too," then let himself sink into her, a slow and gentle slide. Her nails dug into his shoulders, small pinpricks of pain against the glory of her body. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, until she let out a small gasp and threw her head back, baring her throat, hands flitting from his chest to his hair.
He wasn't going to last very long, tight and melting-hot as she was.
He'd make next time better.
29. Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.
He wasn't sure when she became indispensible.
Probably it happened gradually, sneaking up on him like a wave. All he knew was that one morning he rolled over and reached for Gail, and was shocked by how automatic that motion was. She spent the night very rarely; there was no reason to expect her there, and yet he did.
At work, he filed things away to tell her later. He counted the days between dates. He started calling her in the evenings, just to hear her voice.
"You're gone, Nathan," Davy told him solemnly, and that was when he knew.
--
She knew she loved him because of Ivy.
It wasn't because of Ivy that she fell in love, though his obvious adoration for the bright center of her life certainly didn't hurt. It was just... he loved her daughter so much, as if Ivy was his own child. He was certainly a better father than Ivy's biological parent had ever been. And she could see them so easily in ten years' time, Ivy a sullen teenager, Aaron rolling his eyes at her foolishness, and she and Nathan just trying to survive Ivy's adolescence, together.
Oh yes, she loved this man.
9. How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill?
"I asked you once," she said abruptly, a year in, "where this was going, and you said wherever we wanted it to."
He stiffened a little in his seat, but she saw no sign that he'd understood. "Yes," he said. "We said a lot of things then."
Oh. She bit her lip, reminded herself to be brave, and said, "I know... I know where I'd like it to go."
Nathan cocked his head, a silent invitation.
"I would like," she said, "to stay with you, for a very long time. For the foreseeable future at least. Does that sound good?"
--
He'd remembered another part of that conversation and braced himself for an ending, not a beginning; he hoped she didn't take his huff of surprised air the wrong way.
"It sounds good," he said. "It sounds very good. I love you."
She smiled, the bright, happy smile that made her unutterably beautiful. "I love you too," she said, and came over to sit on his lap. "It occurs to me that we probably should have said that sooner."
"Several months," he said, putting his arms around her waist. "But I won't complain if you don't."
She laughed, and kissed him.
5. You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.
He brought Aaron over one sunny summer afternoon, as neat and tidy as he could make a nine-year-old. Aaron kept twitching at his tie, but he did not complain; in fact, he didn't say a thing, just watched everything with big brown eyes and a thoughtful expression.
Nathan thought of Ivy's boundless energy and bossiness, and winced inwardly as he knocked on Gail's door.
Please God let it go well. Please God, let them like each other. Nathan was probably going to propose to Gail regardless of the outcome of this meeting, but it would be easier if...
Please God.
--
It was a good thing Aaron was as easygoing as his father, because in no time at all Ivy had him firmly under her thumb, towing him around her room, showing him her favorite toys, imperiously directing him to do this or that. Aaron looked slightly bemused, but he went along with it; he even seemed to be enjoying himself.
"Thank God," Gail said under her breath, and poured herself a glass of wine.
"One for me too, please," Nathan said, and smiled at their children. "I'm glad they're getting along."
"It's a very good sign," Gail agreed, and poured.
3. A single rose can be my garden...a single friend, my world.
They went ring-shopping the day after he proposed-- by accident, which Gail didn't ever intend to let him forget-- standing arm-in-arm at jewelry counters, examining the offerings. Most of them were too flashy, too expensive, or both. After a couple of hours, Gail was beginning to think she'd have to settle for a plain gold band.
The last saleswoman heard them out, then said, "I think we can help you," reached over the silver diamond rings and picked up a gold band, etched with an abstract leaf pattern.
"That's it," Gail and Nathan said together, and smiled at each other.
--
Her wedding band made him think of her, subtly pretty, deceptively simple, an inexpressible beauty just under the surface. His was much less symbolic in and of itself; just a plain gold band, wider than his first, and a bright gold to match Gail's, but otherwise essentially the same.
In and of itself, it was just a ring.
On his hand, it meant so much more; a second marriage, a commitment he never thought he'd make again, a heart he hadn't thought to have. Gail's heart in his keeping, his in hers.
Nothing, he thought, was ever just a ring.
4. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
It wasn't the sort of thing you could lead up to easily, so he didn't bother.
"I want to adopt Ivy," he said to Gail, sitting beside her a week or so before the wedding. "After we're married."
She looked up sharply at him. "You don't need to do that," she said.
Nathan shook his head. "I don't think I need to do it, I want to." From love, and more... if something happened to Gail, he wanted a claim on Ivy no one could contest. "I feel like her father already, Gail. I just want to make it official."
--
What was she supposed to say to that? Start with the obvious. "I love you," Gail said, and watched his face relax into a smile. "I don't see any reason why you shouldn't adopt her, if it's what you really want."
He reached over and took her hand. "It's what I really want."
"Then she should have your name," Gail said, decisively. "Since I'm not changing mine. We can hyphenate. Ivy Hirschfeld-Kendall."
"Has a nice ring to it," he said, and kissed her. "Can I tell her?"
She laughed at the boyish eagerness on his face. "Of course," she said.
18. The rose is a flower of love. The world has acclaimed it for centuries. Pink roses are for love hopeful and expectant. White roses are for love dead or forsaken, but the red roses, ah the red roses are for love triumphant.
Gail wasn't much for roses. They seemed overdone to her, lovely, but cliché, overly expensive, and a sign of little imagination. But some things were cliché for a reason, and some clichés still had meaning.
She chose forget-me-nots and violets for the wedding proper, the bridesmaids, pews and centerpieces, because she liked the colors, and because they were relatively inexpensive. She carried them in her bouquet too, because she believed in consistency.
In among the violets and the forget-me-nots, she carried one red rose, and before she tossed the bouquet, she pulled that one out.
She also believed in love.
--
When they shook off the wedding party and the guests, sent Ivy off with her grandparents and Aaron off with his mother, and were finally, blessedly alone, Gail gave him the rose she'd carried in her bouquet.
"What's this for?" he asked, accepting it, and running his fingers over the velvet-soft blossom.
"For you," she said, smiling. "Because... I don't know. It just felt right."
Nathan smiled at her, then looked at the rose cupped in his hands. "It does feel right," he said. "Everything feels right today."
"Then it is right," she said, and he'd never believed her more.
16. The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.
Gail kept snorting over her book, once or twice even covering her mouth to muffle a giggle. Eventually his curiosity got the better of him, and he put his own book down. "What are you laughing at? I thought that was a romance novel, not a comedy."
"That's what I'm laughing at," she said. "Corrugated abs, indeed."
"What?!" He took the book when she offered it, and scanned the marked page, feeling his eyebrows rise sharply. "My God. You weren't kidding."
"Nope," she said, brightly. "Honestly, though, any sex scene that involves the word 'undulating' tends to make me giggle."
--
He snorted, shaking his head. "As well you should. You do many things in bed, but you don't undulate."
Gail contemplated her husband for a moment. "No," she said, and leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "I squirm."
She was rewarded by a slight quickening in his breath. "You do squirm," he said, after a moment.
"I don't, ah, 'make a pleading sound' either," she said. "I just beg."
Nathan looked at her for a moment. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
"About time you caught on," she said, and yelped happily when he hauled her into his lap.
12. Love is like a rose. It looks beautiful on the outside...but there is always pain hidden somewhere.
The fight started because she wanted a baby, but it wasn't really about that.
"We can't afford one," Nathan had said, brusquely, as if that was that, even though she hadn't meant right now. In a few years, maybe, when he'd moved up in his firm and she'd gotten her promised raise. But he'd just dismissed it, like it wasn't even a possibility.
And yes, maybe she'd been a little snappish when she asked him to pay attention, but he hadn't even listened to her. He still wasn't listening to her.
She didn't think she could face him right now.
--
He still wasn't sure why they were fighting.
It wasn't financially possible to have a baby now, even if they both wanted it-- and he wasn't, at this point, sure that he did want another child. They had two brilliant and lovely children, after all.
But Gail hadn't been interested in listening to him. Instead, she'd accused him of not listening to her-- ha!-- and stormed off without letting him get a word in edgewise.
If this was the way their fights were going to go, he wasn't sure he could handle it.
At least he knew she was angry.
22. Be a rose which gives fragrance even to those who crush it.
She came back about half an hour later, looking somehow both annoyed and sheepish. Nathan looked up at her warily. "Are you going to snap at me again?"
Anger twisted her face briefly, then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "No," she said. "I didn't know I had snapped."
"It sounded like it," he said, less warily, and patted the couch.
She sat down, folded her hands in her lap, took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I walked away. I didn't want to shout at you."
"Okay," he said. "Apology accepted. Why were you angry at me?"
--
Seriously?
She closed her eyes and took another breath. He was asking because he genuinely didn't know. "I felt like you were being dismissive."
She heard him doing his own deep breathing. "Well, I certainly didn't mean that. It just... I feel like we're not ready for that discussion yet."
"For..." She checked herself. "Not ready how?"
He shrugged. "Financially. Emotionally. I don't know."
Gail looked down at her hands. "When will we be ready?"
There was a long, tense silence.
"I don't know," he said, at last. "But I promise I will tell you."
She supposed she'd take that.
21. The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns; the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the rose.
Gail slammed her stack of papers on the table and said, "My God, I hate my job."
Nathan leaned over the chair to kiss her cheek, and said, "Good evening to you too. What's wrong this time?"
"Parents," she snapped. "Why isn't my child reading yet? Why is my precious child only counting to ten? What's wrong with you?" She inhaled, forced herself to calm down. "What's wrong with them, more like. Ivy was reading at four."
"Ivy is brilliant," Nathan pointed out. "Do they usually blame you?"
"Yes." She signed, leaned forward and pinched the bridge of her nose.
--
Ouch. Nathan circled around behind her and began massaging her shoulders. "Can you make them go away?"
"No," she said, and leaned back towards him. "Keep doing that. No, I wish I could."
"Hmm." He applied a little more pressure. "So why do you keep teaching?"
"The kids are wonderful," she said, slightly muffled. "I love watching their eyes light up when they get it at last. I think..." She stopped, and then said, affectionately, "You bastard."
"Hmm?"
"Making me feel better like that." She turned in his arms and kissed him. "I love you."
He smiled. "Love you too."
10. But he that dares not grasp the thorn / Should never crave the rose.
They offered him the promotion on a Friday, and gave him the weekend to think about it.
"I have no idea if I should take it," he told Gail, that evening. "It's more money, but... it's also a lot more work, and a lot more travel. I don't know if I'm ready for it."
Gail took both his hands in hers, squeezed them. "You are ready for it," she told him, earnestly. "You're very good at your job, and you deserve this promotion. You deserve everything they're giving you. Take it."
He smiled at her. "I will then," he said.
--
Nathan took one look at her face and jumped to his feet. "What is it? Gail?"
"Roger Berquist offered me a job in the Department of Education," she said, feeling stunned.
"Holy shit," Nathan said, and came forward, beaming. "Congratulations, that's amazing!"
"I know, but..." She bit her lip. "It's a big step. Not even a step, it's a jump. A skydive. And I don't know if I have a parachute."
He looked at her for a moment, then said, "Gail, you're married to me. You always have a parachute."
She smiled at him, and felt a bit less stunned.
19. There is nothing more difficult for a truly creative painter than to paint a rose, because before he can do so he has first to forget all the roses that were ever painted.
In the middle of work, Gail realized that she was late. She was never late.
She couldn't wait to get home, or even for her lunch break; she ran to the department store down the street, bought a test, and took it back to the bathroom by her office.
Five minutes later, she bolted out of the bathroom, collected her things, told her boss she'd be out for the foreseeable future, and hailed a cab.
Nathan had taken the day off. She wasn't sure why, but she was grateful for it when she found him sitting at the kitchen table.
--
"I'm pregnant," Gail said, and Nathan's whole world shifted.
He'd been about to ask why she was home in the middle of the day, but that seemed fairly irrelevant now. Instead, he said, "You're sure?"
She beamed at him. "Test was positive. I'll have to get a blood test to be sure, but..."
"But you're pregnant," he finished, joy bubbling up in his chest. "Oh my God, Gail!"
She laughed, the same joy he felt bright in her voice, and tumbled into his lap, kissing him fiercely. "I'm pregnant!"
"You're pregnant," he agreed, and lifted her up on the table.
14. The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.
"From this interview," the therapist said, carefully, "I can reach only one diagnosis. Are either of you familiar with Asperger's Syndrome?"
From the way Gail stiffened beside him, he was fairly sure that she did. "I'm not," he said, worry closing over his throat. "What does it mean for our daughter?"
The therapist sighed. "It means she's on the autism spectrum. She'll always have trouble socially, understanding and talking to people. The sensitivity issues will continue. She may become irrationally obsessive about minor subjects."
His baby. His poor baby.
Nathan closed his eyes, and put a hand to his heart.
--
Later, when Summer was in bed, they talked.
"It's good to know," Gail said, softly. "We can help her now."
"She'll need it," Nathan said, rubbing his forehead. "God. Autism."
Gail looked sharply at him. "She's still our daughter. She's still Summer. We just have a name for it, now."
"I know," he said, and gave her a quiet smile. "It's just... she'll have it so hard."
True enough. She took his hands. "Summer will be fine. She's our daughter. She'll be her intelligent, beautiful self, and she'll be fine."
"I hope you're right," he said.
She knew she was.
6. Life is a rose; beware of the thorns.
Gail came home upset and frightened, rubbing her shaking hands across her face, and found her husband in their bedroom. She didn't-- couldn't-- dance around the subject. "Nathan, someone tried to frame me for embezzlement."
"Holy Jesus," he said, and went to her, pulled her tight against him. She burrowed into his arms, still shaking. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she said, "Jake caught him, but God, I can't stop shaking. Why on earth would someone do that?"
He held her tighter-- she closed her eyes and pressed her face harder against him. "I don't know, love. I don't know."
--
Later that night, Gail still tucked against him, Nathan stared at the ceiling and had an epiphany. "Do you suppose..." he started, and trailed off. Maybe she didn't want to talk.
"Suppose what?" she asked.
No help for it now. "That man," he said. "Who tried to frame you. I think it might not have been personal, just... I think he just hated that you were female and his boss."
"Oh." She hummed for a moment. "You know, I think you're right. If it wasn't personal, if it was just because I was there... that helps."
He could understand that.
1. Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.
Someone was talking about Gail in the admin bullpen. Nathan detoured.
"...mean, really, she should have expected it," the newest guy was saying to Rita, who looked alternately amused and horrified, as Nathan came up behind them. "Having sex where just anyone could see her."
"You're an idiot," Rita said.
"It was a twelfth-story office," Nathan added. The guy whirled, horror crossing his face. "And if you're going to be sexist about my wife, you can clean out your desk now."
"You can't fire me," the guy said, weakly.
"I think you'll find I can," Nathan said, and walked away.
--
One of the reporters, Alicia Witt, pulled her aside after the conference. "Seriously?" she asked. "Off the record, that was really your husband?"
Gail narrowed her eyes. "Yes. It was our anniversary and I hadn't seen him in awhile."
"I get that," Alicia said, and disgust crossed her face. "But you could do so much better."
Gail stared at her until she removed her hand, then said, "If you say anything like that ever again, consider yourself banned from all future press conferences."
"Oh, come on!" Alicia said. "I was only joking."
"It's a terrible joke," Gail said, and left.
7. The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.
Her mother called her just after dinner, her voice choked with tears.
Gail didn't know what Nathan saw in her face; whatever it was, he shooed the kids out of the room, then put his arms around her. "Your father?" he asked, softly.
She said nothing, because there was nothing she could say. Her father had been sick for so long, it was inevitable. They both knew that, she and Nathan.
But it still killed her inside. Her daddy was gone.
She buried her face in his shoulder. Nathan didn't bother with words; just rocked her and let her cry.
--
The anniversary of his mother's death was a tough one.
Not that he didn't grieve his father, but Daniel Kendall was a misty, semi-heroic figure in his memory. He'd only been eleven, after all, and his father had been gone for a year before that.
But his mother-- he remembered every agonizing moment. She'd been in so much pain when she died.
Gail knew. He didn't know how, since he'd never told her, but she knew. She generally took the kids somewhere for the day.
He loved her so much sometimes, he didn't know how he could breathe with it.
26. Why is it no one ever sent me yet one perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it's always just my luck to get one perfect rose.
It was really annoying how Gail always seemed to know just what to get him for his birthday.
Well, pleasing, too, because it spoke to how well she knew him and how much she loved him. Annoying, because he always felt like he couldn't return the favor. He got her flowers, always, because they made her smile, but that didn’t seem like enough. She enjoyed plays, so sometimes he got her tickets, dinner out, a private night for the two of them.
Come to think of it, she seemed to like his presents well enough.
He was still annoyed, though.
--
Gail adored her husband, she really did. She loved every sweet smile, every well-timed hug, every soft or passionate kiss. But if he didn't stop getting her the perfect present without any effort at all, she was going to smack him.
It was aggravating. She would agonize for days over what to get him, and though she would eventually manage something that he loved, she never managed quite the same level of nonchalance he had. He just seemed to know what she wanted, magically, and got it for her.
The bastard.
She didn't know how she could love him more.
11. The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.
The whole family gathered for their twentieth anniversary, children and adopted children, Gail's sister, Nathan's best friend. There was a massive party which neither of them had to plan, a sit-down lunch and a dance party in the afternoon, and then, miracle of miracles, all the guests cleared out. Ivy and Gina even took Summer for the night.
They had sex, of course. Gail didn't know about Nathan, but she still wanted him, more with every smile he gave her. Afterwards, she lay in the circle of his arms, and thought drowsily that the twenty-first anniversary would be even better.
--
Twenty years. He'd never thought they'd make twenty years.
Well, he had, when he'd thought about it. It just hadn't been something he pictured on a regular basis. One day at a time was enough for him, but one day at a time piled up, and here they were twenty years later, still in love, still wanting each other as much as the day they'd married.
He looked down at Gail, her tousled red hair loose across his chest, and smiled. Some things never changed. He'd never stop loving this woman.
He hoped their twenty-first would be just like this.
20. But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.
Nathan's best friend was named Davy Spillane. They'd been in the Navy together, mustered out together (Nathan because of Aaron, Davy because he wanted to run a sailing business), watched baseball and drank beer together. They'd been each other's best man. They talked about a lot, too--jobs, children, wives (Davy's was named Emma, and she frankly terrified Nathan).
But there were some things even Davy didn't know about, some things he only talked about with Gail. Regrets. Heartbreaks. Private joys.
Davy was still an excellent friend. There was no changing that.
But his best friend was really named Gail.
--
Gail's best friend was named Kim Mulcahey, and as obnoxious as she could be sometimes, she'd been there for Ivy's birth and she had introduced Gail to Nathan. For that, she would forever be precious to Gail.
It was interesting, though, as her marriage went on, how much she talked about twice; once with Kim, once with Nathan. She got different viewpoints, of course, but it was remarkable how often their opinions coincided. And if she could only talk to one..
She loved Kim dearly, and she always would.
But if she had to choose, she would always choose Nathan.
24. One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon-instead of enjoying the roses blooming outside our windows today.
She found Nathan staring into the little trunk where he kept his regrets, a thoughtful but (thank goodness for small favors) not upset look on his face.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, pausing beside him and looking down past his shoulder.
He started a little, and twisted to look up at her. "Oh, nothing. Just looking at this." He picked up his first wedding ring. "I was thinking maybe it was time I got rid of it."
Gail smiled down at him. "If you're ready," she said, "I'm glad."
He blew her a kiss, and shut the trunk.
--
Ivy called around six in the evening; Gail ended that call with an oddly thoughtful look on her face.
Nathan regarded her for a moment before he decided to ask. "What was that about?"
"Her biological father is dead," Gail answered, distantly. "I'm... trying to decide how I feel about it."
He blinked. He'd never met Bradley Spitzer, but he'd heard plenty. "Not sad, I hope."
"No..." She drew out the vowel, thoughtfully. "No. Not happy, either. Actually, I don't feel much at all."
He shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"Not really," she said, and smiled at him. "Hasn't for years."
27. Footfalls echo in the memory, Down the passage which we did not take, Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden.
"You know," Nathan said thoughtfully one day, "I almost didn't go on that date. The one Kim set up."
Gail raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Why not?"
"Aaron, mostly." He propped his chin on his hand, staring out the window. "You know. I didn't feel like I should be dating when I had him to think about."
"I do know that feeling," she said, sounding rather wry. "I’m glad you did decide to go, though. I don't know where I'd be without you."
"I don't know where I'd be without you," he said, and stretched. "Nowhere good, though. That's for sure."
--
She didn't tell him, but after that first date he almost hadn't gone on, she had almost not called him.
She didn't tell him because it had had nothing to do with him. He had been wonderful, a prince among the frogs she'd dated until then. He had been so wonderful he was almost too good to be true.
She'd gone home and she'd watched Ivy sleep for an hour, trying to decide what to do. Trying to decide whether to take the chance.
She was so, so glad she had. Her life would be so much colder, without him.
30. God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December.
"My favorite memory," Gail began, "is that picnic. You remember, the one where you first met Ivy? She was so little then."
"I remember," Nathan murmured, and she caught a fleeting smile on his face.
"The one we took Ivy and Aaron on after they met, too. It was such a pretty day, and the leaves were falling." She touched the leaves engraved on her wedding ring. "We felt like a family for the first time. I remember that. We felt like a family."
"I remember," he said again, stroking her hand. "It was a beautiful day. In all senses."
--
"Mine," he said, after he'd thought about it for a while, "is that day we all went to the Cloisters, the four of us. Ivy was actually behaving herself and Aaron was taking pictures of everything, and we got to sit in that beautiful courtyard and smell the flowers, you remember?"
"I do," she said, softly. "Ivy and Gina still go there."
"It made an impression on her too," he said, smiling. "Yes. It was another one of those beautiful days. Do you think we'll have another?"
"I think we'll have hundreds more," she said, firmly.
He almost believed her.
13. Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness, know that, like life, things sometimes must fade, before they can bloom again.
Gail was behaving rather mysteriously, lately.
She was upset, though she was trying to hide it, and it bothered Nathan that she wouldn't tell him that she was upset, much less why. That had been the one thing he had always been able to rely on from her: in forty-six years of marriage, she had never held back. But she was doing so now.
He'd ask her tonight, he decided. When she got home. He'd cuddle her against his chest and he'd ask her what was wrong.
He'd be there for her. He always had been. He always would be.
--
She sat with him for a little while, after.
She'd never been uncomfortable with the dead, and anyway this was Nathan, or his body, at least. She'd spent almost half a century with him; she could never be uncomfortable around him. They knew almost everything about one another. What was there to fear?
She wasn't sad yet. She would be, she knew, soon. She'd have to tell her children soon, tell them everything, and that would break her heart.
But for now, she was still with him. She'd be with him again soon, permanently.
How could that make her sad?
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EPIC BROWNIE IS EPIC.
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