Intertwining

by Morgan

Chapter Twenty-Six

I was born a child of grace

Nothing else about the place

Everything was ugly but your beautiful face

And it left me no illusion

I saw you in the curve of the moon

In the shadow cast across my room

You heard me in my tune

When I just heard confusion

All because of you

All because of you

All because of you

I am...I am

I like the sound of my own voice

I didn't give anyone else a choice

An intellectual tortoise

Racing with your bullet train

Some people get squashed crossing the tracks

Some people got high rises on their backs

I'm not broke but you can see the cracks

You can make me perfect again

All because of you

All because of you

All because of you

I am...I am

I'm alive

I'm being born

I just arrived, I'm at the door

Of the place I started out from

And I want back inside

All because of you

All because of you

All because of you

I am---U2, “All Because of You”

The days just seemed to be getting longer and longer, stretching on interminably, a series of obligations, while the nights vanished as easily as the stars behind a veil of dark clouds. Deadlines, classes, practices, cross-country flights, meetings, interviews, errands. At times there was barely enough energy left to breathe. Sleep was a foreign concept anymore. And at times in the morning, it felt like time had marched on without their knowledge, without their consent. Waking up with strange pains, and odd creaks.

They reached the apartment door at the same time that night. Haley fumbling blindly in her purse for the key, and Nathan holding an ice pack to his cheek. Groaning in frustration as she reached the dark bottom recesses of her purse and the elusive key had yet to show itself, she finally became aware of Nathan’s shadow looming over her.

“I have my key,” he told her, shifting the icepack into his other hand, to reach into his pocket.

After stumbling triumphantly, tiredly through the door Haley turned to study Nathan concernedly.

“What happened to you?” she asked worriedly, brushing her fingers delicately across the impressive bruise that had already formed across Nathan’s cheekbone. A grotesque mixture of purples, and blues.

“Two of the guys got in a fight today a practice while we were working on guarding. My face just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he answered wryly. Haley looked at him silently, a hesitant, questioning expression clear on her face. “And no, I didn’t hit him back. Although I was pretty damn tempted,” he answered her unspoken question.

Laughing a bit at his assumptions of her, she quickly feigned wide-eyed innocence, “I didn’t say anything,” she protested vehemently.

He simply shook his head, smiling slightly. “You were thinking it though.”

Assumptions that were true the vast majority of the time, not that he needed to know that. “I was doing no such thing,” she insisted haughtily, moving to the kitchen in hopes of locating food.

He stood behind her peering over her shoulder into the vast wasteland of their refrigerator, “Don’t even try that. I know you too well.”

She sighed as she turned around to face him, “Ok, there’s nothing to eat except leftovers.” Pulling out a Tupperware container from the back she offered it up for his approval. However, they both quickly wrinkled their noses in disgust as they saw the unidentifiable remains of what they could only assume had once been food.

“I am not eating that. You can’t make me,” Nathan protested petulantly.

Haley narrowed her eyes at his childishness, “Oh yea. ‘Cause I really had my heart set on it,” she examined the contents of the container, searching for clues to its original state, and settled for waving her hand over it, “that.” She sighed once more, “Takeout?”

“Sounds good to me. What kind do you want?”

“Whatever you want. My brain hurts too much too make any decisions.”

“How about Chinese?” he suggested as he reached across her for the take-out menu and the phone.

“Fine with me.”

Ten minutes later, Nathan hung up the phone after placing their order, and dragged himself over to flop onto the lush blue couch. Flipping through channels absent-mindedly, he continually switched the hand pressing the melting icepack to his cheek as it grew too frigid to bear. Haley on the other hand had disappeared.

“What are you doing?” he called out, as she walked towards him. Wordlessly, she removed the icepack from his hands, replacing it with a pack of frozen peas sealed in a Ziploc bag, wrapped protectively in a ratty, old yellow dishtowel, and walked back towards the kitchen silently. Nathan watched her ministrations quietly, and was in the same position when she returned. She joined him on the couch, unceremoniously sprawling across him.

“That bruise really doesn’t look good. A quarter of an inch further up and it would’ve hit your eye. Did the team doctor look at it?” she questioned him, draping her legs across his.

“Yes, Florence Nightingale. He said to just keep it iced for a while to keep the swelling down,” he answered her, wrapping his arm around the subtle curve of her waist.

“Oh, nice allusion there,” she responded impressed.

“Yea, I finished that book you had on her during the last stretch of road trips. I started to pretend to read it so I didn’t have to participate in some of the bullshit conversations going on, and then I ended up actually wanting to know what happened next.”

Nestling further into him, she laughed triumphantly, “I am going to turn you into a nerd yet.”

“Yeah, when I start watching a three hour documentary on Stalin on the History Channel for pure enjoyment than you can start worrying,” he teased her lightly.

“Hey, that was really interesting. Did you know that most of his public appearances were made by stand-ins because he wasn't as robust and healthy as his image suggested?” she retorted, a look of faked insult on her face.

“Whatever you say,” he replied as he shut the television off with an emphatic click of the remote. “Nerd,” he added, almost inaudibly.

“Jock,” she shot back.

They studied each other intensely, biting back smiles, Nathan breaking first. Pressing a kiss against her lips, he slid his lips across her cheek, “My love.”

Desire swirling plainly in her amber eyes, Haley remained still, her lips curling up seductively at the corners. “When does the food happen,” she finally asked, her voice tinged with an impatient whine. Nathan took one look at her expectant, questioning face, and burst into rough laughter, resting his face in the palm of his hands. “What? I’m tired, and my neck hurts from working on that paper all night last night, and my stomach keeps making strange noises, and I’m pretty sure I’m wasting away,” she pouted.

“I hardly think you’re wasting away, Haley.”

“Was that some sort of crack on my weight?”

He ran his eyes over her slender form, smirking. “Oh yeah, ‘cause you’re such a heifer, Haley.”

“Hey, I’m a good 140 pounds lighter than you, hotshot.”

“I’m also almost a foot and a half taller, shorty.”

Knowing she had been bested, she stuck her tongue out him at briefly, glaring at him. He rolled his eyes at her immature display, and pulled her closer to him, “You know I think you’re gorgeous, sweetheart.”

She refused to meet his gaze, crossing her arms across her chest. Turning from him, she stuck her chin in the air defiantly, “I’m not talking to you.”

“That’s fine by me. I can think of plenty of other activities that don’t involve talking,” he answered amused.

Swinging her leg across so she was straddling him, she ran a finger slowly down his broad chest, “Oh really?”

“Mmmhmm,” he murmured against her lips, breathing in her scent in a steamy kiss.

“I love your one-track mind.”

“I don’t have a one-track mind. I occasionally think about other things, like…”Nathan’s train of thought came to a screeching halt as Haley’s tongue darted out to taste the taut skin at his Adam’s apple. “Things I can’t remember when you’re within 50 feet of me, but I have been known to think about other things on occasion.”

Haley’s reply was cut off by the loud buzzing of the doorbell. “Yay food!” she jumped off the couch exuberantly, and ran towards the door. When she returned with the food, they settled back into each other, tearing madly into the steaming cartons of food. Midway through ravenously devouring an egg roll, Nathan paused suddenly and stood up. Walking away, Haley was left bewildered. Although she now had the opportunity to steal Nathan’s half of the crab rangoon, which tickled her with delight. Returning just as quickly as he had left, Nathan sat back down next to her. Holding a light blue card envelope in his outstretched hand.

“Here.  This is for you,” twisting his voice into a casual affectation, pretending to return to his food eagerly. But Haley could see that he was watching her from the corner of his eye.

Taking the envelope from him she saw Haley written across the front in his boxy, cramped handwriting. Opening it with a questioning look, she withdrew the contents of the envelope and remained in stunned silence when they came into view. Pulling them closer to her, for further inspection she furrowed her brow in confusion. “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously, not taking her eyes off the contents of the envelope.

“Yeah.”

“You know I was just kidding when I was talking about this before. I mean, I understand. I didn’t really expect that…”

“I know. I wanted to do this. We’ll have some time off, thought it might be fun,” he tried to appear nonchalant about the whole thing.

“It just doesn’t seem like your type of thing. I don’t want you to feel like you had to do this.”

“Honestly, it usually wouldn’t be. With anyone else but you, I’d be dragging my feet the whole way there, but I’ve enjoyed most things I’ve done with you. And I know how much you want to go.”

She smiled brightly at him, “Will you hate me if I drag you to art museums?”

He groaned, running his hand through his hair, “Do I have to?”

“You can’t go and not go see the art. And the monuments, and the castles. I mean there’s so much culture and history there that you…”

“I get the point,” he cut her off. “I knew I should’ve gotten involved with someone a lot less intelligent. I wouldn’t have to go to so many “enlightening, cultural” things.”

“You had plenty of opportunities to get involved with brainless sluts. Don’t blame me for your apparent misfortune,” she smirked winningly.

“I was just hoping that there might be, let’s say, other activities involved.”

She laughed loudly, “Please, Nathan. I thought you knew me better than that. It’s our honeymoon. We’re not going to be soaking up the cultural riches the entire time.”

“That’s my girl.”

“So it’s a fifteen day trip. Do you want to just stay in Spain, or maybe make short trips to Italy, or France, or Portugal?” Running to the bedroom, she returned with a traveler’s guide to Europe. “Oooh, we could go to England and Ireland, too.”

“Whatever you want to do, baby. You know a lot more about what there is to see.”

“It’s your honeymoon, too. You should get some input.”

“As long as you're there with me, that’s all I need. I just thought we’d start out in Spain since I know you’ve wanted to go there for a long time. Your being fluent in Spanish is also a big plus.”

“You’re too good to me,” she replied tenderly, holding the frozen peas against his cheek.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“For what is the beloved? She is that which I myself am not. In the act of love, I am pure male, and she is pure female. She is she, and I am I, and clasped together with her, I know how perfectly she is not me, how perfectly I am not her, how utterly we are two, the light and the darkness, and how infinitely and eternally, not-to-be-comprehended by either of us is the surpassing One we make---D.H. Lawrence”

Haley had successfully completed her first year of law school. Two of her professors had been very impressed with her work, and had suggested that she sign up for some of their advanced seminars next fall. Nathan had impressed the coaches and analysts with his rookie year with the NBA, the Sixers having finished first in their division and fifth overall. They had managed not to burn the apartment down with their attempts to feed themselves real food. They seemed to be getting the hang of the whole real world “bill-paying” thing. They had made a few good friends in the city, kept in touch with old friends from their respective hometowns, and from college. The weather the past few weeks in Philly had been beautiful, a sunny 75 degrees with a refreshing breeze blowing. Nathan and Haley’s relationship was better than ever. Everything was perfect. That should have been their first clue.

“Oh my god! Would you watch where you’re going! I knew I should’ve driven,” Haley was clutching the door handle, her knuckles turning white with fear, and she continually pressed her right food against the gray carpeted floor of the Escalade in a braking motion whenever she felt Nathan performed a “scary-driving maneuver.” This in the last twenty minutes had been about every three seconds.

“I am watching. I’d probably be able to concentrate a little more if you’d stop freaking out and let me drive,” Nathan bit back, holding the steering wheel in a death-grip.”

“Damnit, look at this traffic. The drive to the airport should’ve taken ten minutes. We’re barely three blocks from the apartment. We would’ve gotten there faster if we walked,” Haley grumbled, feeling her panic rising as she continued to watch the gridlock of vehicles noisily honking around them. She could only assume there was an accident up ahead. There could be no other explanation for this type of traffic at noon on a Sunday.

Nathan simply clenched his jaw. His patience was wearing thin, and he was trying his very best not to take it out on Haley, but seeing as how she was the only one around, things were not looking good on that front.

“And the honking! Stop it with the damned honking already!” Nathan seethed to himself, shooting death-rays into the guy in the Honda Civic next to him who seemed to have his hand super-glued to his car horn. Despite the cocky swagger, the bluster Nathan liked to put up, when it came right down to it, he was a small-town boy at heart. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to living in such close proximity to so many people. And the traffic. Oh god, the traffic. Traffic jams simply didn’t exist in Tree Hill. There really weren’t any major ones in Winston-Salem either. Haley had grown up in a small-town, but she had always been closer to the big cities, so she seemed to handle herself better in these situations. Not breaking down into panic-attacks like Nathan. Not that he was having a panic-attack or anything. He had everything under control. Really.

“I told you to pack before. But noooo, you had to wait until the last minute. And then of course, you couldn’t find your shoes. This of course wouldn’t have happened if you had put them back where they belonged in the first place. And now we’re late getting to the airport. I wanted to leave at 11:30 so we’d have plenty of time to go through security, so we wouldn’t be rushed, but now it seems as if everyone in the state of Pennsylvania decided at the exact same time that it’d be a swell idea to come to Philly and go for a drive. And now traffic’s barely moving. And we’re going to miss our flight. We’re going to miss our flight. I just know we are. This is really stressing me out. I can’t stand being late. I’m never late. Oh god, I think I just felt my blood pressure spike. Is that possible? This is so so stressing. I ‘m so stressed,” Haley rambled on, her knuckles remained clenched lily white, and her foot was doing a fantastic braking routine on the floor.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Nathan bit back sarcastically, his voice hard. “Stop fucking honking already,” he shouted, to no one in particular. And no one felt the urge to listen to him. “I’m doing the best I can here Haley, I’m sorry. But I can’t make the traffic go any faster. We were twenty minutes late leaving the apartment, there was no way I could’ve known the traffic would’ve been this bad.”

Haley was far too busy hyperventilating to pay him any heed.

Forty minutes, 5 near fender benders, and one annoying kid on a bike zipping in and out of traffic later, they arrived at the Philadelphia Airport. Rushing up to the airline counter to check-in, they waited impatiently while the agent searched for their flight. Haley’s stomach was doing world-class gymnastics as she noticed on the flight monitor that the flight to Detroit, the flight they should’ve been on was boarding. “Don’t panic Haley. You still have fifteen minutes before the flight is scheduled to leave. It’s probably just boarding for people who have trouble walking, and have small children. No need to worry. Everything is just fine.”

However, the airline employee’s hands were moving terribly slow, as if trapped in molasses, as she searched for their flight reservations. “I can’t find it,” she said matter-of-factly, as if she was telling them that her name was Mildred, which according to her name tag it was. She sighed, bored. She should’ve been taking her lunch break by now. But Carl who worked in the terminal was late getting back from his, and she couldn’t leave until he returned. That bagel she ate for breakfast had long since disappeared. Where the hell was Carl?

“What do you mean you can’t find it? I booked this flight over two months ago,” Nathan protested loudly.

“What was the name again? I may have typed it in wrong?” Mildred asked, still bored and hungry.

“Scott.”

“That’s a pretty common last name. First name to go with it?” her long manicured fingernails pecked away at the computer keys.

“Nathan.”  'Dear lord lady hurry the hell up,' Nathan yelled at her in his head. He was going to keep his composure; he was going to keep his composure.

At the mention of his first name, Mildred perked up, rumbling stomachs, and vanishing co-workers forgotten. Suddenly, she was eighteen again, puffing her chest out, and batting her eyelashes. “Nathan Scott, as in the…”

“Yes. Here give me a pen. I’ll sign something for you. Now, can you just find me my flight.” Nathan quickly replied, he was in no mood to flirt with middle-aged women who apparently couldn’t find flights that had booked two months ago. 'I am not going to flip out. I am calm and in control. Deep breaths, Nathan, deep breaths,' he chanted silently to himself, trying to remember the stupid breathing exercises from the pansy-assed yoga the coach had been forcing the team to do ever since the fight. He was no expert on these things but he was pretty damn certain his chi was still off-balance.

'Deep breaths, Haley, deep breaths.' Five minutes had gone by, and they were nowhere near getting on the plane. And they still had to go through security.

“Oh look! Here it is! Here are your boarding passes and tickets. Have a pleasant trip,” Mildred chirped, as if nothing had happened.

Nathan and Haley rushed to stand in the back of a long, snaking line through the security check-point. Rushed to stand and wait. And wait. And wait. Fifteen minutes, as they were finally nearing the metal detectors, a voice came over the loudspeaker. “This is the final boarding call for USAirways Flight 5883 to Detroit. Repeat the final boarding call for USAirways Flight 5883 to Detroit. All passengers should be on board the plane at this time.”

“That’s our flight,” Nathan told the security guard.

“Well, I’m sorry but you should have been here earlier. You have to wait your turn to go through the line like everyone else. There’s nothing I can do about it,” the burly guard took a sort of sadistic glee in Nathan’s crestfallen face.

'Okay, commence panicking now!' Haley screamed to herself.

Even sprinting through the airport to their gate, after they completed the security screening, they were too late.

“What do you suggest now?” Haley asked Nathan, bitterly.

“I don’t know. Ok, I don’t know,” Nathan ran his hands through his hair, trying to keep his face obstructed to avoid being bothered by fans.

“Let’s go see if we can get on another flight,” Haley suggested, calming down a bit. Flipping out on Nathan wasn’t going to get them to Spain. Although at the moment, it might make her feel a little better. Walking up to the gate agent, Haley smiled her best toothy-grin. “Hi, we just missed our flight and we wondered if it was possible if we could work something out. We were supposed to go Detroit to Amsterdam to Madrid. Is there any way we can do that?” Haley asked politely.

“I’m sure we can work something out. Let me just switch these reservations around for you, so you don’t get billed twice. Let me guess, you got stuck in traffic? I heard it was hell out there,” the agent answered pleasantly.

Haley glanced at her name tag, Katherine. Ok, Katherine was officially her new favorite person. She glared over at Nathan, who was still attempting to be inconspicuous. This wasn’t going too well for him considering he stood a foot above all the travelers bustling past them. Haley bet if Katherine had been driving they would’ve made their flight on time.

“Ok, I see you were flying first class. Unfortunately, all the first class seats on the next flight out to Detroit are booked. I’m going to have to bump you to coach,” Katherine calmly informed Haley.

“That’s ok…”

“I can’t fly coach,” Nathan cut her off suddenly, taking this opportunity to participate in the conversation again. Haley sent him ice daggers with her eyes, warning him silently

“Coach would be just fine. You’ll have to excuse him; he’s in a bad mood.”

“I’m not in a bad mood,” Nathan stage-whispered angrily. “Ok, I am. But that’s not why I don’t want to fly coach. It has nothing to do with me being a spoiled brat. I really don’t want to deal with people bugging me, and asking for my autograph the entire time.”

Haley paused. He did have a point there. She turned to Katherine with an apologetic smile, “There’s no way we could be in first-class? It’s our honeymoon and we don’t really want to deal with people bothering him.”

Katherine grew confused, shaking her head slowly, “Why would people be bothering…oh!” As Nathan turned to fully face her, understanding dawned upon her. “Oh my god you’re…”

“Sign something for her,” Haley ordered with a wave of her hand.

Ok, something had to be done. He figured he could flirt with attractive twenty-somethings. If he really had to. Life was so difficult sometimes. “Katherine,” he drawled seductively with his cockiest smirk firmly planted on face. “It’s very important that we fly first-class. Is there any way you could help us out? It would really mean a lot to me.” He leaned closer to her over the counter, attempting to ignore Haley rolling her eyes next to him.

“I wish I could, but unfortunately all the seats are taken. There may be a chance you can bump to first class on some of the connecting flights, but the flight to Detroit is full.”

“Are you sure?” Nathan pleaded with her, the smirk still clear and present.

“I’m very sorry,” Katherine informed him regretfully.

Nathan sighed loudly, “Ok.”

As he was taking the new tickets and boarding passes, Katherine leaned closer to him, “You have a very beautiful wife, Mr. Scott.” Nathan just groaned.

As they walked away, to find something to eat while they waited, Haley turned to him, “What was that about? Umm, hello, wife standing right there!”

“I was just trying to get us into first-class. Apparently, you should’ve been the one flirting with her anyway.”

Haley raised her eyebrows and started to laugh, “Oh, finally. Nathan Scott finds someone immune to his charms.”

“Ok, you stop that. But seriously, what are we going to do about the flight?”

“Buy you a baseball cap and hope for the best, I guess. There’s nothing else we really can do.”

“I have my Wake cap in my luggage.”

“Yeah, as if that's not a red-flag. Oooh, I know!  We could buy you a Duke hat. No one would suspect you to wear a Duke hat.”

“I am. Not. Wearing. A. Duke. Hat,” he insisted forcefully. “I will sign autographs the whole way to Madrid, shake everyone’s hand, I don’t care what I have to do, but I will not wear a Duke hat.

“Listen, I’m a Wake girl. But sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I’m sure the Deacon fans would forgive you,” she reasoned with him.

“I’m not doing it,” he crossed his arms defiantly.

“Fine.” They entered one of the souvenir shops at the airport, “How about a Penn State hat?”

“Their basketball team sucks. I suppose I can wear that, if I have to.”

“Thank you for the positive attitude, hotshot,” she responded sarcastically.

“It’s kind of hard with you on my case.”

Two hours later, as they finally boarded the plane for the flight to Detroit, they still weren’t speaking to each other, except to glare at each other. As he sat down, Nathan plopped down into the aisle seat, grabbing a magazine from his carry-on and ignoring Haley as she struggled to shove her suitcase in the overheard compartment. Nearly tripping over him, she fell into her seat with a thud, and glared even harder at Nathan. Considering it was over twenty hours before they finally landed in Madrid, it was going to be one hell of a long honeymoon. And they hadn’t even gotten off the flight yet.

Fifteen minutes into the flight, Haley was trying to keep as far away as possible from the snoring old man in the window seat next to her, who kept rolling onto her seat, while still maintaining her distance from Nathan, who was so not her favorite person right now. She had half a mind to get on a different flight once they landed in Detroit. And damn him, and his long legs taking up all the space. Nathan on the other hand, had his magazine so close to his face, it had practically become a part of it, to avoid the giggly females across the aisle who were oh-so-subtly giggling, whispering, and pointing his way.

“Move your legs,” Haley whispered to him, still not looking at him.

“I can’t. I’m not being squished for two hours anymore than I already have to. Besides, you have room. Move over on your own side,” he whispered back, his magazine still pressed to his face.

“I can’t. That creepy old guy keeps rolling onto me, he smells weird, too. And what are you doing with the magazine?”

“Those girls across the aisle keep looking at me.”

Haley craned her neck across him, to see the girls for herself. She was in no mood for this. “I’ll give them something to look at alright,” she muttered angrily.

Nathan tried his best not to laugh, his chuckles small, and nearly inaudible at first, but one look over at Haley’s pinched angry face, at the death glares she was shooting the girls and he lost it.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, no, of course not,” he barely managed to get out, his stomach hurt from laughing so hard.

“It’s not funny.”

“You’re right it’s not.” But yet he continued to laugh.

A small smile appeared at the corner of Haley’s face, “I guess it is a little funny. God, this is like the Griswalds take a honeymoon.”

“The who?”

“The Griswalds. They're the family that’s in all of those National Lampoon movies, where something is always going wrong with their vacations.” And she began to laugh.

“Yeah, this day has been a disaster so far,” Nathan conceded.

“But we’re on the plane, and we’re going to get there. Granted, a little uncomfortably, especially since that man seems not to have gotten the message that you only get one seat.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.  I made us late. We wouldn’t be dealing with this if it weren’t for me,” Nathan began to apologize.

Haley sighed and turned to him. “Don’t apologize. You’ll make me feel like an even bigger bitch than I already do. With the way traffic was, we probably would’ve been late anyway.” She looked around, and asked in a small voice, “So are we still not talking to each other?”

“I think I’d prefer talking to you, than trying to avoid looking at those girls the rest of the flight.”

“You know, I totally wouldn’t have blamed you if you had started flirting with them. I’m almost surprised you didn’t.”

“Ehh, even when I’m mad at you and not talking to you, I still like you better than anybody. You've officially ruined me for other women,” he concluded dramatically.

“Ok, if we weren’t on a crowded airplane, we’d totally be having a hot and heavy make-out session right now,” she whispered at him, with a coy wink.

“Well, coincidentally that’s what this trip is for...hot and heavy make-out sessions and more!” Nathan responded in his best game show announcer voice.

“I hate fighting with you, Nathan. I’m just..”

“Anal and hate to be late?”

“I am not anal,” she retorted huffily. Nathan simply raised one eyebrow disbelievingly. “Ok, maybe a little,” she conceded.

“Just a little?”

“Don’t press your luck buddy.” she warned him. “Or else I’m going to feed you to the piranhas across the aisle.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because then you’d be missing my hot body.”

She ran her eyes over his body, “Hah,” she scoffed. “I could do better.”

He looked at her silently for a moment, biting back a grin, “Sad part is, you probably could.”

Haley figured it was time to let the poor man off the proverbial hook, “Nah, you’re still at the top of my fantasy list. Trust me, I’ve been looking,” she answered with a slight smile. “Those girls can’t have you.  You’re my make-out buddy and no one else’s,” she proclaimed.

“Well, I’m glad I have a say in this.”

“Fine, hotshot. What do you want?”

“I think….” he shook his head forcefully. “No, I know I want you.”

“You have me.”

“I meant…”

Haley grinned at him, “I know what you meant. Only 19 hours to go until the Scotts officially embark on their honeymoon.”

“Oh dear lord.”

“Hey, none of that. And don’t think I feel so bad about being a bitch that you’re going to get out of going to the art museums. ‘Cause I know that’s what you were thinking,” she jabbed a finger into his chest to make her point.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

They sat there quietly for a few moments, in a much more pleasant silence than they had begun the flight in. However, Haley couldn’t seem to get comfortable in her seat. She glanced over at Nathan, who had his eyes shut, starting to drift off into sleep. “Nathan,” she whispered. No response. “Nathan,” she whispered a bit louder, shaking his arm gently.

“What?” he asked her, his eyes still closed.

“I can’t…”she began but by this time, he had opened her eyes, to see Haley trying to contort herself into a human pretzel away the man next to her.

“Oh for god’s sake, c’mere,” he rolled his eyes at her, and flung his arm across her back, pulling her into his side. Haley drew up her legs to the side of her, and settled her head against Nathan’s chest. Squirming a bit against him to get comfortable, she reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers. Breathing in his familiar scent deeply, she smiled contentedly. He was definitely her favorite person again. Ok, he had never not been her favorite person. Eh, potatoes, potahtoes

“I love you,” she whispered quietly against him, in a half-moan. Nathan had apparently fallen asleep, and was silent, his chest moving steadily up and down in deep breaths. But minutes later, she heard him whisper back, “I love you, too my anal retentive, hot-tempered, frustrating, incredibly beautiful nerd of a wife.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight 

Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house

Maybe you'll think of me and smile

You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse

Keep me in your heart for while

Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams

Touch me as I fall into view

When the winter comes keep the fires lit

And I will be right next to you---Warren Zevon, “Keep Me in Your Heart

      

       He was having a very pleasant dream, buried deep underneath the covers when suddenly he became aware of a weight pressing into his chest. Not to mention the unholy amount of sunlight streaming in through the window. He couldn’t imagine how there could possibly be any light when only moments ago he had shut his eyes in the velvety, inky darkness of the night. He felt like he was forgetting, but in the cobwebby recesses of his sleep-addled brain he was too tired to care. Something was missing. Let’s see, bed, comfortable Nathan being disturbed from a wonderful sleep. He clumsily patted the bed with his hand, realizing he had gone too far without running into anything. More specifically a small female body. And something was still suffocating him.

       “Rise and shine!” Haley chirped from her perch on Nathan’s chest, where she was currently sitting cross-legged like a maniacal Buddha.

       “Oh geez,” Nathan muttered, she was damned lucky she was so tiny. Watching her climb off of him with one barely cracked eye, he groaned, and attempted to bury deeper into the pillows.

       “Hey! No more sleeping. It’s time to get up. We have a lot of things to do,” she scolded him, running back to the bed as she witnessed his not-so-stealthy sleep-gathering maneuvers.

       “You’re scarily perky this morning,” he muttered, rolling onto his back and stretching his arms behind his head. He had yet to make an effort to actually get out of the bed. Baby steps, people, baby steps.

       “I’m just going to get plain scary if you don’t get your ass out of that bed,” she warned him. “Now.”

       Rolling out of bed rather ungracefully, he threw his hands in the air in surrender, “I’m up, I’m up. Don’t have a coronary.”

       “Get moving buddy, we have a lot to see today.”

       Groaning once more, he stumbled towards the bathroom, reaching blindly for his toothpaste, “Should I even ask what?”

       “I thought we’d go to El Prado today and look at the art,” she answered him, her voice full of an excitement he reserved for basketball, junk food, television, and well.... not art museums.

       “I should’ve just walked away. First three times I ever saw her, she was studying. That should’ve been my first clue. But no, I had to marry the girl and be forced to get up at the crack of dawn to traipse around art museums,” he thought to himself, as he leaned against the door slowly brushing his teeth.

       “Did you know that El Prado is the largest art gallery in the world, housing over 8,600 paintings. It began during the reign of Charles III, when he tried to create a single art collection under one roof, but it wasn’t fully realized until Fernando VII, who formed the Royal Museum of Painting and Sculpture on November 19, 1819,” Haley pleasantly informed him, as if she was a tour guide.

       Nathan on the other hand was struggling to follow her words, watching her quietly, his eyes glazed. “Ok, her mouth is moving. Something about Charles, something about November.”

       Haley oblivious to his lack of enthusiasm, or maybe because of it, forged on with her history lesson. “When the king died, and with the disappearance of the monarchy there was a problem with the inheritance and the unity of the collection. The museum then became national property. Over time the artwork has been through many challenges and was transferred several times during the Spanish Civil War, ending up in Geneva, Switzerland. The collection was later returned to Madrid during World War II. Today the art is housed in two adjacent buildings.”

       “She’s still talking! Keep up, Nathan, keep up. King dies, Spanish Civil War, Geneva, oops, missed a button on my shirt.”

       “The Villanueva Building and the Cason de Buen Retiro. Most of the artwork can be divided into four schools, according to the nationality of the artists: The Italian School, The Early Flemish School, The German, French, and Dutch school, and the Spanish School.” Toward the ends of her rambling she finally became aware that Nathan had stopped paying attention to her a long time ago. “Nathan.”

       He continued to stumble around the room, hoping that whatever clothing he was putting on, didn’t make him look like a circus freak.

       “Nathan!”

       “What?” he jumped startled, at the sound of her voice. “Huh?”

       “Were you listening to a word I said?” she asked with her hands on her hips, eying him critically.

       “Oh, look away, look away!” his brain warned him. “Of course I was,” he reassured her in what he hoped what an even voice, keeping his back turned to her, while he slipped on his shoes.

       “Really? What did I say?”

       “We’re going to see the paintings,” he answered, searching her eyes for confirmation. Deciding to run down his avenue, he grew more confident, “Lots and lots of paintings.” Then a thought occurred to him, and he tried very hard to remember the past ten minutes, and the beginning of her history lecture. He then grew very afraid. “Haley,” he began nervously, “exactly how many paintings did you say were at the museum?”

       “Over 8600,” she replied coolly, hiding her smirk. She was enjoying watching him squirm far too much.

       “Oh,” he replied in a small, stunned voice. “8,600? Do we have to see all of them?” he whined. “Why don’t we just stay here, Haley?” he pleaded with her, sliding up beside her, and wrapping his arms around her.

       “I can do that anywhere.”

       “You’re mean,” he pouted, but continued to try, tracing small circles on her clavicle with his tongue.

       “Yeah, well after over 3 and half years with you, ehh, you just sorta lose your appeal,” she shot back, in a slightly breathless voice that belied her statement. Spinning around in his arms so she faced him, she smirked, “Besides, I know you’re just trying to get out of going to the museum.”

       Feigning shock and insult, his eyes grew trembly wide, “Me? I would do no such thing.”

       Haley simply laughed.

       “Ok, remember senior year in college when I told you to just go ahead and take that art history course even though it didn’t correspond with your major or minor?” Nathan asked her.

       “Yeah,” Haley nodded.

       “Yeah, well, I totally take that back.”

       This caused Haley to laugh even harder. “Oh, relax. We’re not going to see all 8,600. Not all of them are on display. Besides, the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back here,” she finished matter-of-factly.

       Nathan regarded her carefully for a few seconds, his still-waking brain having trouble contemplating hits, subtle or obvious. And then with a flash he understood, and he was all but shoving her out the door. “Let’s get moving, woman! We have art to see!” he proclaimed forcefully.

       A few hours later, they were still trudging through the museum. Well, Nathan was trudging, Haley had broken into more of a subdued bouncy skip. He had managed to get trapped behind a noisy group of Japanese tourists, and was now several paces behind her. Turning around, she watched him fondly. He had been pleasant and patient the whole day. “Hey, you,” she beamed, reaching for his hand when he got up to her. “Do you really hate this? I know this isn’t really your thing.”

       He smiled at her, “Granted you’re kind of scary when you go into full-on smart-girl mode, but I’m used to it.”

       “Haha,” Haley dead-panned.

       “It’s actually,” he paused and shrugged, “not so bad, I guess. I’m fully awake now, and aware of my surroundings. Although I’m still not sure I’ve forgiven you for getting me up so damn early. Forget jet-lag, I’m pretty sure I was suffering from jet-stop. I definitely never want to see an airplane again.”

  “We have to get back on an airplane to get home,” she reminded him.

  “We’ll take a boat back,” he concluded.

  “Great, that way I can get sea-sick instead of being drooled on. You’re definitely sitting in the middle on the way back.”

  “Um, let’s review the facts here. I’m 6’7”. You’re 5’4”. You’re sitting in the middle. You were mostly in my seat anyway.”

  Haley scoffed, and rolled her eyes “Please, as if you didn’t enjoy it.”

  “Never said I didn’t.”

  After a few moments of silence, she questioned him again, “You’re sure this is ok?”

  “Yes, Haley,” he sighed exasperated. “Besides, I know how much you want to see this. You’re enjoying it. That’s enough for me.”

       They stopped in front of a temporary exhibit dedicated to Spanish artists through the years with a few works by Picasso on loan from other museums. A self-portrait of the artist in blue in particular caught her eye, “Picasso once said that, ‘Art is lies that tell the truth’”

       Nathan stood behind her silently, tilted his head to the side, and tried to fully absorb the impact of the artwork, “Ok, that makes little to no sense.”

       “I think he was saying that art is an expression of truth, of reality that we haven’t really considered before, or just shoved away. That we can’t always take things at face-value and sometimes the truth lies deeper than the surface.”

       Nathan came besides her, raising her eyebrows with an amused smirk.

       “What?” she asked him warily.

       “Nothing. You just never cease to amaze me.”

       Grinning at him, she rested her head on his shoulder, “In the same vein T.S. Eliot had said that ‘Great art can communicate before it is understood.”

       “See, now that I get.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

See you and me

Have a better time than most can dream

Have it better than the best

So we can pull on through

Whatever tears at us

Whatever holds us down

And if nothing can be done

We'll make the best of what's around

Turns out not where but who you're with

That really matters

And hurts not much when you're around

And if you hold on tight

To what you think is your thing

You may find you're missing all the rest

Well she ran up into the light surprised

Her arms are open

Her mind's eye is

Seeing things from a

Better side than most can dream

On a clearer road I feel

Oh you could say she's safe

Whatever tears at her

Whatever holds her down

And if nothing can be done

She'll make the best of what's around

Turns out not where but what you think

That really matters

We'll make the best of what's around---Dave Matthews Band, “Best of What’s Around.”

As the hot July sun, beat down upon them, Nathan sat draped artfully into his seat, slowly sipping on his soda thoughtfully.

“You know, I still think I’m getting the raw end of the deal here,” he remarked as he raised a hand to block the sun from his eyes.

“Why? I thought we could do something you enjoy since you went to the art museum with me yesterday,” Haley answered as she squinted as well, setting down a soda of her own.

“Except for one small problem, you actually enjoy sports. Well, at least a lot more than I enjoy art,” he pointed out simply.

“Well, it’s not my fault I’m easier to please than you. Besides, you’re lucky I like sports, or else I might not be coming to all of your home games.”

“Plenty of the other wives and girlfriends come and I don’t think they know the first thing about basketball,” he replied, tilting his head in various positions trying to stop the solar burning of his retinas. Apparently, the sun was closer to the Earth in Madrid. Okay, now he was seeing spots.  That probably wasn’t a good thing.

“The ones that aren’t actually interested in the sport come to gossip with and about each other, show off their new clothes, or surgeries and watch the guys get sweaty,” Haley stated matter-of-factly. “And not the ones that they’re actually with.”

Nathan’s retinal dilemma was forgotten temporarily as he turned to Haley, who was busy fiddling with her bracelet. Seeing his horror-struck face, she shrugged her shoulders, “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just an innocent bystander.”

“You’re a lot of things Hales, but innocent bystander certainly isn’t one of them,” he smirked, taking the opportunity to steal some of her food.

Smacking his hand lightly, she swiveled away from him, “Hey! Hands off the food! Go get your own. And I resent that implication I am very innocent.”

Staring her down for a few seconds, he nodded his head slightly, and turned back to the game, “Yeah, whatever.”

She smacked his forearm a little more forcefully this time, “Hey!”

Raising his hands in a signal of protest, he just grinned toothily.

“You’re completely right. You know the real reason I come to the games?” she dropped her voice into a stage-whisper, glancing around furtively. “I totally have the hots for number 17, Allen Keyes. He is just so damned sexy. Oh, and number 34. Ooh, and number 55, and number 3, and number 5.”

“And number 23,” he interjected.

“Who is number 23?” she asked. “I don’t think I know him. Ohhh, that’s you!” She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and thought long and hard about this,” Nope not 23. I’ll take the rest of them. Someone else can have 23, no need for me to be greedy.”

“Any of those guys tries anything and we’ll be looking for a new franchise to play with because I will destroy them,” he replied calmly, his eyes focused on the game.

Laughing she continued to eat, “Oh my big, strong protector come to save me! Besides, tall, cocky, basketball players who think they’re God’s gift to women don’t really do anything for me.”

He turned back to her, processing what she had just, “You just described me.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting you’re cocky?”

“I prefer to think of it as being confident. Hey, if you’ve got it flaunt it.”

Shooting him a disparaging look, she rolled her eyes slightly, “Did you just say if you’ve got it flaunt it? I don’t know you anymore.”

“You might be re-thinking that later on, I have the keys to the rental car.”

“Damnit! Alright, alright, I acknowledge your existence again.”

“So it’s safe to leave you alone with the rest of the team?” he questioned her amused.

“Oh god no!” she shot out disgusted. “I don’t want to be left alone with anyone who would marry some of the flakes I’m forced to sit with during the games.”

“So basketball players aren’t your type, huh? And what exactly is your type?”

“Gentle, brooding artistic types. Musicians typically. Nice, shy boys.”

“Oh, so I’m not nice?” he shot back with a grin.

“That’s not what I meant. Safe boys,” she replied, with a small shrug.

“Yet you married me. And I seem not to be your type, apparently,” he answered, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Chuckling, she laid a hand on his knee, “Shows you how much I know about my type. Trust me when I was younger you’re the last person I would’ve pictured myself ending up with. Now that I have perspective, it makes sense though. None of those other relationships lasted. I mean what’s really the purpose of dating a “type” when you’re only going to end up with one person. If those relationships keep not working out, then maybe you should start looking elsewhere.”

“Start looking to tall, cocky, basketball players,” he replied.

“Exactly. Except not to you, because you’re taken.”

“Damn straight.” And he seemed satisfied with this exchange. However, turning back, he was still concerned, “So I’m not your type,” he asked quietly.

“No,” she answered seriously. “You’re the love of my life. Everyone else just falls short of your standard.”

He smiled at her, kissing her gently on the forehead, and they returned their attention to the match before them. Still squinting futilely into the sun, but they struggled on valiantly. Finally, he could take it no more. “Ok, this kind of sucks.”

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, she stopped pretending she was fascinated by the sportsmanship display, “Oh thank the lord. You think so, too?”

Absorbing the fanatical, cheering crowd, the sizzling atmosphere, the wide, green expanse of playing field he sighed “It’s hot. I can barely see anything. And I really can’t get into this sport. I’d never thought I’d say that.”

“Me, too. I like my sports with a little more contact. I’m a hockey girl first and foremost.”

“Hey!”

“I like basketball, too hotshot, but you do realize I’ve never cheered for a team that you didn’t play for. I’ve been a Flyers fan for as long as I can remember,” she reassured him, leaning against his side. “I didn’t even get into basketball until college when I had to go to all the games because of being in the band.”

“And then you were entranced by me.”

“No, and then I had to listen to all the girls around me, ‘oh my god he’s so hot, blah, blah, blah,” she intoned in a nasally, high-pitched squeal. “Yeah, I get it, he’s nice to look at, move on ladies.”

“Speaking of squealing, what’s up with all the teenage girls?” he asked nodding his head, over to a large group of what appeared to be over-excitable teenage girls who were acting as if they’d seen the love-child of Elvis and the Beatles. Not that they’d appreciate The King or The Fab Four or any offspring thereof.

“Oh, David Beckham plays for Real Madrid. Apparently, he’s like the hottest thing ever. Or something,” she answered with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Nathan attempted to squint to take a better look at David Beckham who was currently on the field, but figured attempting to check out another guy was not a legitimate reason to destroy his precious vision. “The hottest thing ever?”

“That’s what they say.”

“And what do you think?”

“Honestly?” she thought carefully about her answer. “He’s a good-looking man.”

“Really,” he replied, attempting to keep his voice casual and even. “Ha, good looking my ass!” he thought to himself.

“Calm down there, jealous,” she patted his arm soothingly, smirking slightly. “He’s a little too much of a pretty boy for my tastes. He changes his hairstyle about every two weeks. I have this belief that guys should require far less maintenance than girls.”

“Yeah, well, if they're competing with you, they barely have enough time to brush their teeth,” he retorted.

“I’m just going to go ahead and take that as a compliment, whether you meant it as one or not. Ok, and I’m going to say something, and I know I’m going to regret it, and then we’re never going to mention it again,” she warned him gravely, looking him deeply in the eyes. “Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he joked.

“You are by far the best looking man I have ever seen,” she stated simply, watching his face for the expected look of smug satisfaction. One, two, three. There it was.

“Oh really” he interrogated with a raised eyebrow, that smirk she had come to know and love so well in plain view.

“See I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I mean you know you’re good-looking. I’ve seen pictures; you have always been good-looking. I for one think that it’s very unfair that you never went through an awkward phase. I think everyone should have to go through an awkward phase, gives you perspective.”

“And when exactly did you have your illustrious awkward phase?” he questioned her confused.

“Um, hello? Ninth grade. I believe you’ve seen the pictures. Need I say anymore?”

“What was wrong with you in ninth-grade?”

“Where do I even begin? My braces were still on, I couldn’t even tell you what was going on with my hair, and I pretty much defined the term ‘late-bloomer’” she gestured to her chest, “Yeah, not a whole lot going on up there.”

“You were cute,” he protested.

“In high school, guys like you didn’t take a second glance at cute. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“In high school, guys like me were screwed-up assholes who got off on hurting other people so they wouldn’t have to face themselves.” He glanced over at her, “And they were also idiots who couldn’t see an amazing girl.”

Smiling at him brightly, she laughed briefly, “See that’s why you’re my favorite.” Darting her eyes around, she considered speaking but then thought better of it. A few seconds later, she could bear it no longer. “Have we balanced out the ‘do something I like, do something you like’ card yet?” she asked him hopefully, her eyes wide and pleading.

Exhaling with barely contained glee, he jumped a little in his seat, “I thought you’d never ask. Maybe I just don’t know enough about the sport but I can’t take much more of this. He kicks it, then he kicks it, then they kick it in the goal. The excitement just never ends,” he dead-panned.

“We could go do something we both like,” she stared at him long and hard, nodding slowly until he got the message, tugging on his hand ever so slightly.

“And see, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Chapter Thirty

Take me down, to the underground

Won't you take me down, to the underground

Why of why, there is no light

And if I can't sleep, can you hold my life

And all I see is you

Take my hand, I lost where I began

In my heart I know all my faults

Will you help me understand

And I believe in you

You're the other half of me

Soothe and heal...

When you sleep, when you dream, I'll be there if you need me,

whenever I hear you sing...

There is a sun, it'll come, the sun, I hear them call me down

I held you once, a lover that once, and life had just begun

And you're all I see...

And trumpets blew, and angels flew on the other side

And you're all I see, and you're all I'll need

There's a love that god puts in your heart---Smashing Pumpkins “Take Me Down”

       Life was back in the pendulum of ordinary. Late September, the air was still frightfully warm, heavy with dampness. Another Indian summer.

He had always thought of it as a rather unremarkable time of year. As a child, basketball season had still been months away. His parents had started to close up the beach house for the year. He had never been excited by the prospect of a new school year, as he could imagine she would have been. She would have been the girl who sat in front of him in Trig, pencils razor sharp, uniform length, notebooks crisp and color-coordinated. Or the boy to the left of him in History, who read biographies of the characters that they weren’t going to be tested on. Just because. Just for fun. September was two months from his birthday. Three months from Christmas. One month from their anniversary. September had always been unremarkably ordinary. It shouldn’t have mattered to him. He should have been able to laugh it off, to dismiss it off-hand. But the pendulum had surreptitiously swung off-course. Foucault’s pendulum never actually made the daily rotation, marking the outline of a perfect circle day after day. The path remained consistent, linear, and unalterable. Rather, it projected the movement of the Earth below it.

       He stared at, tried to analyze it for clues. He wagered he had been sitting there, in the dimly lit apartment for a good two hours now. It felt like a lifetime. He barely noticed when the door opened and she stumbled in, burdened with grocery bags.

       “Hey!” she greeted him, dropping the bags with a loud thud on the counter closest to the refrigerator. With a quick grimace, she plunged her hand into the bag frantically, checking nervously to ensure the eggs were still intact. They were. “How was practice today?”

       “It was good,” he replied in a tone that implied it was anything but.

       Turning around to look at him, she noticed he was hunched over the kitchen counter, his chin resting on his steepled fingers, a cold look in his eyes. “I got the mail,” he told her as he watched her put the groceries away. He supposed he could help her, but he would probably just end wrecking her system. The green beans went in one place, the Swiss cheese in another. And he could never remember where she wanted the deli mustard. Her back was to him.

       “Ok,” she focusedd on the deli meats, taking them out of the store wrapping and putting them in Ziploc bags. Labeling them with the type of meat and date of purchase in permanent marker. She wished she didn’t know him so well, didn’t know his tone of voice well enough to suspect that he wasn’t talking about the mail. That he was trying to control his anger, fighting to retain the upper-hand. Then the blow comes.

       “Your letter from Duke came.” His voice was perfectly even, perfectly calm. Slightly bitter. She continued to label the groceries in her authoritative, bold, slightly angled handwriting. Her back was to him so he couldn't see her eyes grow wide, her breath falter a bit.

       “What—what did it say?” she asked with a false note of cheer, squeezing the marker tightly when she heard how unsure she sounded.

       “Well, I figured since you didn’t want me to know you applied in the first place, you certainly wouldn’t want me to read the letter.” His voice had become poisonously sweet. Watching her turn around, he all but shoved the letter into her unwillingly hands, his icy blue eyes mocking the small smile at the corner of his lips. “Go ahead. Open it,” he commanded her.

       Staring at the envelope for a few moments, she hesitated. But then began to set it into the pile he had reserved for the junk mail. She would throw it away with tomorrow’s garbage. “It doesn’t matter what it says. I’m not going.”

       “What was it for?”

       She hesitated again, fumbling awkwardly with her hands, refusing to meet his glance. “There’s a semester long program in the spring. It’s basically a hands-on internship. Everybody in the program gets assigned to a lawyer that has volunteered to participate as a mentor. The students spend the semester helping with an environmental case, and you report back to the rest of the group on what you’ve learned. The rest of the program is intensive classes that try to tie in the cases that everyone is working on with established standards in the legal community, previous cases and rulings, seeing it as part of the bigger picture.”

       “You took the time to apply. You might as well open the letter.”

       Her nails slowly traced the outline of the envelope, before tearing a jagged opening, and removing the contents. Quickly, she scanned over the letter before tossing it into the trash pile and returning to the groceries.

       “Well?” he asked, finally removing himself from the chair. “What did it say?”

       “I got in.”

  It was of no surprise to him.  He knew she would. “Why, Haley?”

       “I don’t know,” she answered him quietly, and they both knew that it was a lie.

       “Are you really that unhappy here? I told you that if you were, I’d try to get traded.”

       “That’s not going to happen, Nathan. The Sixers like you too much to give you up without a fight. And you’re happy here,” she answered him, her voice tinged with a sadness that he feared wasn't recent.

       “And you’re not? So you just apply to a school three states away behind my back,” he hissed out his accusations, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter.

       Rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly, she bit her lip and shook her head. “That’s not what it’s about. Please don’t make it sound like I betrayed you.”

       “Do you want to go—”

       “What?” she interrupted, confused.

       “Do you want to go to Duke?”

       “I can’t. You’re here and—”

       “That’s not what I asked,” he interjected sharply, cruelly. “I asked if you wanted to go.”

       “That’s not why I applied.”

       “So what, you just applied for shits and giggles?”

       “I don’t know if I’d put in those words exactly, but yes, I applied for shits and giggles,” she replied with a wry smile, her features twisted. “ I had forgotten I’d even applied truthfully.” She looked to the grocery bags for an escape but realized regretfully they had all been put away. Walking out of the kitchen without a backwards glance, she settled on the couch silently. Silently he stalked out behind her, and arranged himself beside her.

       “So what was it about, Haley? Why did you apply?”

       She paused before answering him, her eyes cloudy and desperate. “It was late March. I had gotten the application from one of my professors but had just shoved it to the bottom of my bag. I had been planning on throwing it away. The team was on the road and I was at one of those players’ wives charity events that I’d probably enjoy a lot more if some of the other women didn’t use it as a way to right their karma. I mean you can’t just shove money at a problem and expect it to go away,” she laughed bitterly, swallowing nervously. “Well, anyway, there was a woman there who was the wife of someone who had been with the Sixers a couple seasons ago. Matt Adams?”

       “Yeah, he’s with the Suns now,” he replied, not sure what former players had to do with hidden acceptance letters to Duke.

       “So I’m standing with Sophie Hoke, trying very hard not to roll my eyes at her when this woman comes up. She and Sophie squeal, hug, it was all very moving,” she dead-panned, "and then came the time to introduce me. 'You know Nathan Scott, well, this is his wife,' " she snarks syrupy sweet, her hair tossed behind her shoulder in a practiced Stepfordian imitation. “I’m not sure my first name was ever mentioned.”

       “So then you decided to apply to the program at Duke—because two women you probably wouldn’t like on a good day didn’t introduce you properly?”

       “I don’t even know why it bothered me so much. I mean, it isn’t like it hasn’t happened before. With them, I’m your wife before anything else. I just—I never signed up to be your trophy wife, beautiful, never a hair out of place, only speaks when spoken to.”

       “That’s not how I see you, you know that. Why didn’t you say anything before?”

       “You were happy. Everything was working out for you. I didn’t want to disrupt that with my petty little identity crisis.”

       “Your problems have never been petty to me. When did you stop being able to tell me everything?” he bit out from between clenched teeth.

       She started to reach her hand out to touch him, but retracted it when she noticed the tenseness of his jaw. “I never intended to go. I guess, I just needed— validation that I wasn’t slipping into some sort of cookie-cutter role.”

       “You could have told me that you were feeling this way. I just want you to be happy.”

       “I know you do. I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you,” she replied pleadingly, laying her hand on his forearm tentatively. “I just see this beautiful, perfect world that’s so empty with these beautiful, perfect, empty women who are just waiting to be saved. And it scares me sometimes because I never needed you to save me, never needed you to rescue me. Around them, I sometimes feel like I should be ashamed of the fact that I can take of myself.”

       “And you don’t need me,” he shot back bitterly.

       “No, that’s not it at all. You’re just—a part of me.”

       “You could have told me.”

       “You were busy. It wasn’t that important.”

       “It was important Haley. I don’t care if I have practice, or if I have a game. Your happiness means more to me than all that. You know what I see in the other women when we’re around them? Jealousy.”

       She laughed it off gently, “Yeah, because you’re there.”

       “No. I mean, yeah, maybe that’s part of it. But mostly because of you, because they know they’re empty and you’re—not. And that just pisses the hell out of them.”

       “Riiight,” she drawled out, unconvinced.

       “It’s true,” he cried in protest.

       “Okay, whatever you say,” she agreed with him half-heartedly, looking to change the subject. Which he does for her, rather suddenly.

       “Who would you say knows you the best?”

       Looking at him for clarification, as to why he was searching for obvious answers she answered him slowly, “You do.”

       “And if I know you..that you have aspirations beyond being a beautiful ornament...that you once compared Sophie Hoke to Lady Macbeth without the cunning...”

       Haley grins a bit sheepishly at this.

“...That you can manage to be beautiful without trying...that you watch as many of the Flyers games as you can, usually curled up on the couch in jeans and a t-shirt and curse at the television whenever you think there’s a bad call...that I trust you, have more faith in you than anyone...and that you’re a part of me...and that those other women don’t even come remotely close to being in the same category as you, you’d believe me, right?” he questioned her hopefully, encouragingly.

       “Sure,” she answered him when she could no longer stand the intensity of his gaze.

       “Oh, yeah because that sounded real convincing. Tell you what, we’ll go out to the court…first one to ten is right.  I win, I’m right. They’re jealous. You win and you can hold on to whatever crazy idea you seem to have.”

       “And how exactly is that a fair contest?” she questioned him disbelievingly.

       “It’s not. Which means I’ll be sure to win,” he quiped back cockily, grinning.

       “Fine. You’re on.”

  He was up 9-0 and she’d long since given up trying to challenge him. Turning back to her with a smug grin after he came back down from a dunk, he was she was standing in the center of the court unmoving, her arms crossed, eying his antics calmly. “Yea, yea, hotshot.”

       “Okay, this is it. Game point,” gripping the ball, he started to swivel away from her when he felt her hand creeping past the waistband of his shorts and promptly dropped the ball . “Whoa, whoa illegal contact!”

       Hearing her laugh behind him, he realized she had taken advantage of his surprised state, and the sound of the ball re-bounding onto the court after she sent it sailing through the hoop followed soon after.

       “You’re such a dirty cheater!”

       Shrugging, she caught the ball. “Hey, I had to do something to even the playing field.” She played on his shocked, indignant expression with a feigned wide-eyed innocence.

       Staring her down, he grabbed the ball from her hands with a tug, and moved to shoot the ball when he felt her leap onto his back, her arms hooked around his neck. The extra weight made his movements clumsy, but he returned to the free throw line dragging her behind him. He squared his shoulders to the basket and began to calmly dribble the basket, focusing his mind on the shot, ignoring what he supposed were her feeble attempts to throw him off-balance. He bent his knees slightly. “And that’s ten. I win.”

       Rolling her eyes at his celebratory antics, her smile was more prominent now. “You’re a professional player, and you just beat your wife, who has some of the worst hand-eye coordination known to man. I hardly think that’s a reason to break out the champagne. Next time, we’re doing something that I have a chance at winning.”

       “Like what—a spelling contest?”

       “Haha, no. I was thinking more along the lines of oh, I don’t know—strip poker.”

       “I guess that could be arranged. Haley...?” he started to ask, his question left uncompleted. But she understood and answered him anyway.

       “I’m ok. I really am.”

       His blue eyes were still on her brown ones, in a searching, penetrating lock.

       “And I’ll tell you when I’m not. I promise.”

Chapter Thirty-One

I know your eyes in the morning sun

I feel you touch me in the pouring rain

And the moment that you wander far from me

I wanna feel you in my arms again

And you come to me on a summer breeze

Keep me warm in your love and then softly leave

And it’s me you need to show

How deep is your love

I really need to learn

’cause we’re living in a world of fools

Breaking us down

When they all should let us be

We belong to you and me

I believe in you

You know the door to my very soul

You’re the light in my deepest darkest hour

You’re my saviour when I fall

And you may not think

I care for you

When you know down inside

That I really do

And it’s me you need to show---Bee Gees, “How Deep is Your Love.”

       Four days of misery. She’s been marking the days, solemnly placing a green X through the I Love Lucy calendar she had hanging on the side of the refrigerator. She would have liked to attribute the mood to the weather. It had been a week of drizzly, dreary emptiness, the sky gray and hopeless. Not the kind of warm, fuzzy gray that reminds you of your Grandmother’s hair or newborn kittens but rather nothing. The sky reminded her of nothingness. Three weeks ago, the final leaf descended from the maple outside their apartment, and now, the trees were bare and desolate against the sky. She knew however, that even in the warmest sun or the magical healing power of a true rain storm, she’d still be miserable. It was one week from Thanksgiving. She’d been lonely for eight days. Eight days a week. And it had been four days since her world changed.

       “Hey!” Nathan called out, as he set his bags down, weary from yet another grueling series of road games. “I’m home.” His third season with the Sixers was now well under way, and he had once again settled into the familiar if exhausting routine of practice, games, and appearances.

       “In the kitchen,” Haley responded, her voice muffled.

       Walking towards her, he found her meticulously sorting through a pile of bills. Kissing her briefly, he sank into the chair across from her, and momentarily rested his head against the chilling marble of the counter.

       Laughing at him, she continued to separate the bills into precise piles, hardly taking her eyes off the task at hand. “Rough trip, huh? You know, you really should do this. You’re the one with the finance degree.”

       “Yeah, but you look so cute,” he mutters trying to decide if he had enough energy to walk over to the refrigerator.

       “Oh, flattery will get you everywhere,” she mocked back.

       “So what’s new with you?” he asked casually, to which her ready response was to laugh.

       “I just talked to you yesterday. My life really isn’t that exciting.”

       “So that’s a whole twelve hours. You must have done something.”

       “Ok, let’s see. I got up, ate breakfast, and went to class. I talked to the guy at the auto shop. He said the car should be done by the weekend. The wheels were out of alignment. Talked to Peyton, Brooke, and Luke. And I’m pregnant.”

       His eyes that had been growing increasingly heavier snapped open suddenly to stare at her with confusion. Darting back and forth, between the refrigerator and her expectant, challenging face he felt as if he has stepped into a black hole. He remembered a desire for food, an attempt to remember the last time he ate. He thought it was probably at the Chinese restaurant the team went to in Dallas. He ordered the moo goo gai pan. He was suddenly no longer certain he was still awake. “What?” he finally managed to croak out.

       “I’m pregnant,” she repeated, and the words sounded strange to her. It was the first time she had uttered them out loud.

       “No. I heard you.” Then, he felt like he was drowning, gulping for air, struggling for the surface air. “How?”

       “What do you mean how?”

       “I mean—I know how. I just—I just thought you were being careful.”

       Stunned, she stared at him with open-mouthed shock, and was tempted to place a hand to her cheek to soothe the sting of his verbal shock. She resisted. “I was being careful? I was being careful?” her voice was icy and clipped. “I’m sorry. I must have missed the part where I impregnated myself.”

       “That’s not—this just isn’t a good time. Now’s just not really a good time to be having a baby.”

       “Well, I’m sorry it disrupts your life. I’m so very very sorry for the inconvenience,” she drawled sarcastically, bitterly. “I haven’t even finished law school yet,” she managed to choke out, before she retreated to the bedroom to leave him in desolate silence.

       Sitting there, his eyes steady and unfocused, he rested his head in his hand. Still struggling for air, there was a painful throbbing behind his eyes. But it was too quiet, and finally he rose. Sighing deeply, he started in the direction of the bedroom. He didn't know what he would say to her.

       Lying on her side in the middle of the bed, she had her back to him, her knees bent slightly. He watched her for a few, brief moments before making his presence known. “Hey,” he murmured softly, still standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed. She didn't answer him. “So I guess you’re not talking to me now?”

       “Yeah, that was the plan. And since you hate the idea of a baby so much, I’ll just not talk to you until it comes.”

       Gingerly, he settled in beside her on the bed, sitting upright against the headboard, her hair brushing against the outside of his thigh. “So you’re not going to talk to me for nine months. Might get pretty lonely,” he attempted to joke, but the words stick in his throat, bitter and painful.

       “Actually, only eight. I’m about three weeks along. I have plenty of other people I can talk to. Peyton, Brooke, some of the people in my classes, that couple next door, Luke,” her back was still to him, facing the blue wall. He remembered the night they painted it. Or rather he remembered the night she painted it while he made a personal game of seeing how many places on her body he could mark with paint the color of the sky after a rainstorm.

       “Luke? Luke’s my brother,” he protested.

       “What is this—the adult version of ‘I saw him first’”

       “Who’s going to take you to appointments when you’re too far along to drive?”

       “I’ll call a cab,” she bit out and the room was left in stony silence. Both tried to stifle their breathing, afraid of the heaviness in their midst. He didn't know when but he had started to unconsciously caress her back soothingly, kneading her flesh in small circles. And she had started to sob.

       “Shhh, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered as he stretched out beside her, gathering her into his arms, her back flush to his chest.

       “It’s not okay—it’s not. I’m just—I’m just so scared,” she choked out in a mangled cry, garbled with salty tears. He simply pulled her closer to him, resting his lips against the soft waves of her auburn hair. She smelled like apples. “I don’t know if I can do this. And I don’t want to do this alone.”

       “You’re not going to—you’re never alone. You always have me,” he breathed in her scent deeply.

       Rolling over to face him, she paused.  "Do you not want children? I mean I know we haven’t really talked about it—I just thought—thought we had a few years to figure things out.”

       “A family is all I’ve ever wanted,” he answered her simply, honestly. “You’re going to be a great mom, Haley. I’ve always known that.”

       “And where do you fit into this picture? I mean unless you were planning on me having another man’s kid.” She was tempted to laugh at his horror-stuck face, his loud gasp. “C’mon, be reasonable. Me being a mom, means you being a father. I’m not going to do this without you. I can’t.”

       “I just don’t know that I’m ready for that, Hales.”

       “You’re going to have to be because I need you.”

       “Me being a father—wow, that’s a scary thought. I don’t know the first thing about being a father. Don’t know the first thing about kids. I don’t want to screw up my kid the way my dad screwed up me. You know and then they’ll end up hating me, resenting me, only calling on the holidays. I just don’t want to mess this up.”

       “My parents aren’t exactly award-winners either,” she chuckled ruefully. “I guess neither of us had the best role-models in the parenting department. It’s a miracle we’re both not more messed-up. But you’re going to be a good father, Nathan. I don’t think there’s some sort of pre-ordained knowledge you have to have. I think you just have to know how to love your child. Without conditions or exceptions or boundaries. Just love them. I have faith in you.”

       “How?” he asks incredulously. “How can you be so sure?”

       “How do you know how to love me?”

       “I just—do.”

       Smiling tenderly, she rested her head against his chest. “That’s how I know. And you and I, we’ve done pretty well for ourselves, right? Gotten through everything life’s thrown our way because we’ve always had each other. You know, with you here it’s suddenly real. We’re going to have a baby, you and me. Those home pregnancy tests are probably the most anti-climactic things ever. You’re scared and nervous and thinking about all the ways you’re life is about to change, and all you get is a colored line. It’s kind of a letdown. I took five of them. Partly to be sure of the results, and partly just to check and make sure I wasn’t missing any of the fanfare. I had always pictured the moment being a little more—dramatic.”

       “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

       “It’s ok. I couldn’t go on any longer wondering. I just needed to know.”

       “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? When I called you earlier this week?”

       “This isn’t exactly news you tell someone over the phone. And your reaction in person was discouraging enough.”

       “About that—“

       She shushed him with a gentle shake of her head, “It’s ok.”

       “No, Haley, it’s not ok. I’m just—terrified and I lashed out at you and I’m sorry. But life’s been pretty amazing these last couple years. The two of us. I guess now it’s going to be just the three of us. Then again, the best parts of my life I never planned on, never expected.” He smiled down at the woman who had become his world, nestled into his side with her tiny, delicate hand curled over his heart. His breathing was steady and even, matching the rise and fall of her chest against him in perfect synchronization. “We’re having a baby,” he whispered in the sacred silence.

       “We’re having a baby.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Like a desert needs rain

Like a town needs a name

I need your love.

Like a drifter needs a room

Hawkmoon

I need your love.

I need your love.

Like a rhythm unbroken

Like drums in the night

Like sweet soul music

Like sunlight

I need your love.

Like coming home

And you don't know where you've been

Like black coffee

Like nicotine

I need your love,

I need your love.

When the night has no end

And the day yet to begin

As the room spins around

I need your love

I need your love.

Like a Phoenix rising needs a holy tree

Like the sweet revenge

Of a bitter enemy

I need your love.

Like heat needs the sun

Like honey on her tongue

Like the muzzle of a gun

Like oxygen

I need your love,

I need your love.

When the night has no end

And the day yet to begin

As the room spins around

I need your love

I need your love.---U2, “Hawkmoon 269”

The loud clanging of the telephone mercifully interrupted the staring standoff they were currently engaged in. With a swivel of her head and a pouty glare towards him, she hopped off the kitchen stool to answer it much to his chagrin.

“Hello”

“Hey, how’s my favorite sister-in-law?” Luke’s familiar drawl came over the line with a faint laugh.

Haley smiled in spite of herself, although Luke couldn’t see that through the phone lines. “I don’t know. Will I still be your favorite if I kill your brother?”

Lucas chuckled knowingly, all too familiar with the frustration Nathan Scott could produce. “Why?  What’s Lord Basketball done now?”

“He’s turned into some sort of damned nutrition nazi, that’s what,” Haley fumed, her words starting to run together in her excitement. The male Scott on this side of the phone line was quietly eying her ever-increasing hand movements as they swung wildly around the kitchen. “I’m a grown woman, right? I should be allowed to eat what I want, when I want it. But nooo, if I don’t get my five servings of fruits and vegetables a day, the world is going to tilt off-course,” she moaned dramatically. “I just want a peanut butter and honey and jelly and marshmallow fluff sandwich. Is that so much to ask for? And I swear if tries to slip me another vitamin—“ she threatened menacingly.

“Hey! I heard that!” Nathan called out.

“Well, you are sitting right next to me,” Haley shot back.

“So things are pretty normal around there?” Luke asked.

Haley sighed frustrated, looking around. “I’m just in a bit of a bad mood, I guess. But I place the blame entirely on your brother.”

“He loves you.”

Pausing for a few moments to think about this, Haley finally answered, “ I know, I know but don’t remind me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m trying very hard to be righteously indignant at him. He’s already tried to break out the pout, but I resisted.”

“You resisted the pout? You are a strong woman Haley Scott.”

“That’s what happens when you make me eat steamed vegetables for every meal.”

Lucas just laughed.

“Here, I’ll let you talk to hotshot. I think if he gives me any more dirty looks his eyes are going to fall out,” she finished more to Nathan than Lucas, passing off the phone to him without so much as a backwards glance and sitting down at the kitchen counter to determine if she glared hard enough at her lunch that just sat in front of her quietly taunting her, mocking her if it would disappear of not. It didn’t.

Minutes later after the Scott brothers finished their phone conversation, Nathan silently rejoined her at the kitchen counter. “You just eat. Your lunch is getting cold.”

Haley slowly surveyed her plate of grilled chicken, steamed broccoli, orange wedges, and tall glass of milk. What a fabulously well-balanced meal. “Oh, darn,” she muttered sarcastically under her breath.

“You really need to eat, Haley,” he answered, trying hard to keep the smirk that was playing on the corner of his lips under wrap.

She just simply glared at him, and took in his own lunch of a big, juicy bacon cheeseburger, potato chips, Oreo cookies and a beer. “You’re cruel. It’s not right to use the cooking skills I taught you against me. And how is it that you can eat that and manage to look like some sort of Greek statue and I eat a diet that would put Gwyneth Paltrow’s to shame and I end up looking like a beached whale with puffy ankles. It’s just not right.”

“A beached whale? You’ve gained less than five pounds, Hales. Besides, you’re pregnant. It’s normal for you to gain weight. You have to eat healthy so the baby can get as many nutrients as possible while it's growing.”

“I shouldn’t have let you read that book.”

“You should just think of it as the baby wants to eat this healthy food.”

“Okay, any child that really wants to eat rabbit food for every meal clearly does not belong to either one of us. Besides, I think the baby wants a peanut butter, honey, jelly, and marshmallow fluff sandwich. Yes, see. It’s kicking in Morse code. It’s really very desperate. You shouldn’t deny it, Nathan.”

“Eat your broccoli”

“I hate you,” she seethed as she stabbed the broccoli spear with a violent thrust of her fork.

Nathan watched her in amusement, smilingly slowly. “No you don’t.”

“I know,” she answered reluctantly as she braced herself to eat the nutritional marvel set before her. They ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the rays of sunshine streaming in through the kitchen window.

“What time to you have to be at practice?” Haley asked breaking the quiet.

Nathan glanced up to check the clock. “About half an hour.”

“And then the road trip is a week this time right?”

“Yeah—I don’t want to,” he started worriedly.

“Nathan, it’s fine. You have to go,” she answered him, laying a reassuring hand on his forearm.

“I know—it’s just that I worry about you. I don’t want something to happen to you or the baby and I’m not here.”

“We’ll be fine, I promise you. I may be forced to eat lots of food that is nutritionally useless, but besides that—“

“You need to remember to take your vitamins.”

“Aye, aye captain,” she mock-saluted him.

“I’ll call you to remind you.”

“Is that going to be a different time than the other phone calls that occur about every twenty minutes?” she teased him.

“Haha. You know I’m sure there will be plenty of women more than willing to talk to me,” he retorted.

Haley examined him carefully. “Ha, your idle threats mean nothing to me. In any case, I think the last thing that those women have on their minds is conversation.”

Nathan laughed loudly. “That’s probably true. Some of them are—wow—scary,” he concluded with a rueful shake of his head.

“I know, you lead such a rough life. What with all the gorgeous women falling at your feet.”

“And the most gorgeous one is at home.”

Haley smiled and blushed. “You are good.”

“What can I say? It’s a gift,” he shot back with a smirk.

“Oh! I meant to tell you, Mrs. Anderson from down the hall is going to be my partner at the Lamaze classes you can’t make. She had six kids, so she must be an excellent breather.”

Nathan stared incredulously, glancing around the spacious apartment. “Six kids?! I mean, this place is big as far as apartments go, but still—“

“She used to live out in the suburbs but her children are all grown now. After her husband died I guess the house just got to be too much for her to deal with.”

“Ahh,” he nodded in understanding. Then suddenly a thought occurred to him. “So she gets to deal with you making sarcastic commentary about the other couples in the class.”

“I guess so. I’m a bit nervous to see if she can fit into my bantering routine as well as you can but I have faith. I mean there is a art to the madness that is us.”

“We are amusing,” he agreed.

“Yeah, mostly to ourselves.”

“We make a good team.”

“We do.”

Hours later, Nathan returned home from practice to find the apartment darkened and no sign of Haley. Making his way over to the living room couch he found her curled up amongst her books snoring softly. Gently lifting her head off one of the books, he slid under her so her head was resting on his lap, and placed a blue and green fleece blanket over top of her. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured gently.

Stirring a bit, Haley rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly.

“Hey, you’re awake. I have something for you,” he told her as he handed her a small, brown paper bag.

Pulling herself into a sitting position against him, still wrapped in the blanket, she reached into the bag curiously. A small smile began to play across her features when she pulled out a pint of rum raisin ice cream, her favorite, and a spoon. “Are you trying to bribe me or something?”

Nathan smirked down at her, “Why?  Is it working? —

The urgent pressing of her lips to his cut him off .

“Oh, definitely.”

Chapters 33 - end

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