Brody: Christmas Eve

Hello, friends!  I know you're all waiting patiently for more on Lauren and Alex.  I'm working on the next one but it's not ready to go today.  So here is a short mini-bonus Brody post!  I'll have the next Lauren post up tomorrow, and a Kinsley post either on Thursday or this coming weekend sometime.
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I trusted I would wake up before Liv's alarm, and I did.  I almost always did.  I shifted carefully and snuck out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt off the floor so I wouldn't have to open drawers and risk waking Liv.  Eddie (luckily) stayed quiet, padding gracefully out of the room after me.  I was surprised he even came with me, usually he stays put wherever Liv is.

It was Christmas Eve morning, and we were flying out to Wisconsin a bit later to spend the holiday with Liv's family.  We'd both been so busy lately, though, that we'd hardly had any time together.  She was busy getting ready for her transition at work, and I was busy getting things moved and starting to make some changes to the way my company was structured.  Throw my weekend away and Alex's accident on top of everything, and it had been a really wild month.  We were both exhausted, and I'm not sure Liv was even looking forward to going home today.

So that's why I'd waited until she fell asleep and reset her alarm for an hour earlier.  She already had it set earlier than it needed to be, probably so she could micromanage me and make sure I had my shit together.  Our travel styles don't mesh at all.  I'm so sick of the inside of DIA that I prefer to spend as little time there as possible, but that makes Liv crabby.  We manage, somehow.  This morning she'd be pleasantly surprised because I was actually all packed already.

Anyway, I'd set her alarm a bit earlier and hoped I'd still wake up earlier than that.  I did, of course.  Once I was downstairs, I turned on the fireplace and headed into the kitchen.  I let Eddie out and put some food in his bowl for when he came back in, then turned my attention to breakfast.

I went all out.  Omelets, french toast, sausage, fruit, and even freshly squeezed orange juice.  Why not?  I turned the Keurig on when I heard Liv stirring upstairs, and I had a cup of coffee ready when she came clomping down the stairs.  For being so small, she sure makes a lot of noise when she walks around this house.

"Did you change my alarm?" she grumbled, coming into the kitchen.  She looked ridiculously cute with her hair still messy and the sleepy, irritated look on her face.

I grinned at her, which made her narrow her eyes more.  She was definitely not a morning person.  "I sure did," I answered.  I handed her the cup of coffee I'd made and said, "Here.  Go sit.  I'm making breakfast."  She took it silently, let Eddie in, then turned towards the living room.  Eddie looked seriously torn between his breakfast and Liv, but decided to wolf down his food before trotting out to join her.

By the time I was done with breakfast, Liv had woken up a little.  She was curled up on the couch under a blanket with Eddie (yes, Eddie was under the blanket too...spoiled as hell).  "Seriously?" I asked, looking at Eddie.  He blinked up at me, then laid his head on Liv's arm, not breaking eye contact with me.  That dog's heart belonged to her.

"What?" Liv asked with mock innocence, trying to keep the smirk off her face.  I just shook my head and chuckled, setting down plates on the coffee table.  "Did you reset my alarm so you could make breakfast?"

"Yes," I replied, turning to go back into the kitchen for the rest of the food.  "I wanted to spend a little time with you before we had to go to the airport.  We've hardly gotten to see each other lately, and this weekend will be crazy."  We were flying out today and back on Sunday, and I knew it would be a busy weekend.  "Then it's back to work right away."

"It's true," she agreed.  She yawned, then said, "I'm not even mad that you made me get up early."  I laughed and sat down next to her.  "Merry Christmas," she said, smiling.

I leaned forward and kissed her.  "Merry Christmas, Liv."  We ate our breakfast and caught up on each other's lives.  I wasn't kidding when I said we'd barely seen each other.  Liv started to take the dishes out to the kitchen when we were done, but I stopped her.  "I've got it.  You just enjoy your coffee and your spoiled dog."  Eddie opened one eye and looked at me disdainfully.  "Seriously," I muttered, chuckling.  She didn't protest, and I gathered our dishes.  Then I grabbed her Christmas gift (part of it, anyway) off the counter and went back into the living room.

I sat back down and smiled as I handed her the envelope.  "What's this?" she asked curiously.

"Part of your Christmas gift," I replied.  "Open it."  She grinned and slid her finger under the flap of the envelope, loosening the glue.  She pulled out the card and opened it, taking out the travel vouchers I'd stuck inside.  "It's been so crazy lately that I thought we could use a vacation together," I said.  "I know things will be nuts for you in your new position, and you won't be able to take any time off for awhile.  And neither will I.  Things should be better for me by the end of March, so over your school's spring break, we can go wherever you want."

She looked up at me and started laughing.  "What?" I asked, confused.

"Hold on," she said.  She shifted Eddie, who grumbled in irritation.  When she stood and headed upstairs, he jumped down off the couch and bounded up the stairs after her.  I just shook my head.  Eddie liked me just fine, but when given the choice, he always chose Liv.  I was grateful for that, since it really did help me worry less about her when I was gone.  I knew he'd take good care of her.

After a minute, Liv reappeared, coming back down the stairs.  Eddie walked behind her at her pace, looking comical as he tried to keep himself from succumbing to his forward momentum and knocking them both down the stairs.  Liv grinned at me and handed me an envelope.  Then she turned to Eddie and commanded him to "go lay down" while pointing at his bed.  He cocked his head and seemed to consider this, then begrudgingly went over to his bed next to the fireplace and curled up.

"Part of your gift," she said to me, motioning to the envelope that was now in my hand.  I tugged her down into my lap and she curled up against my chest while I opened the envelope.  I flipped open the card and read what she had written, then I started laughing too.  Inside the card she had written a promise for a long weekend trip anywhere I wanted to go, once both our schedules allowed.

I set the card to the side and wrapped my arms around her, kissing her temple.  "I guess we both want the same thing for Christmas, huh?" I asked.

"I guess so," she replied, and I knew she was smiling.  She wiggled loose from my grip and shifted so she could kiss me.  After a long kiss, she said, "Well, thank you.  Now we have a couple things to look forward to."

"You're welcome, and thank you," I said in response.  I kissed her again, and we enjoyed our last 15 minutes before we had to start getting ready to leave for the airport just snuggled up on the couch together.

(Now) Brody: Uphill Battle

I sighed and looked at my phone.  I could hear Liv's voice trail off as she went downstairs.  She was talking to her parents, and from what I heard before she moved out of earshot, it sounded like her mom was much more excited today than she'd been at first yesterday.  I was relieved.  Despite my little show of confidence yesterday, I was definitely worried that her parents wouldn't be thrilled.  I know Liv claimed they loved me, but they barely knew me.  I also knew they were a little overprotective and we hadn't been together that long, nor had I asked for their blessing.

Not asking for their blessing had been a very calculated move.  I knew it would potentially make for having to smooth things over with her parents, but I also knew that Liv would view me asking their blessing as asking for permission and wouldn't like it at all.  I understood that a lot better since she had explained what it had been like growing up with parents that were fearful for her safety on a regular basis.  She'd spent so much time resisting--but ultimately bending to--what they wanted that she was pretty set on living her life without their input now.  I had thought about pros and cons, but in the end, since I was marrying Liv and not her parents, I had made the choice that was better for Liv.

I was also a little worried this entire wedding would be an uphill battle.  In our casual conversations about it (plus in little asides here and there), Liv made it fairly clear that she wanted to get married in the mountains.  I didn't know if that would change when it came to actually planning a wedding, but I do know that there aren't any mountains in Wisconsin.  I didn't know her parents well enough to know if they'd be upset if Liv decided she wanted to get married here instead of at home.

I turned my thoughts back to the phone in my hand.  I needed to call my brother.  I felt a tiny bit of relief that I didn't have to call my dad, but it was instantly replaced by a stab of guilt.  I should be sad that I don't have a dad to share this news with.  Instead, I'm relieved because I won't have to bust my ass to protect Liv from him.  That's not really the thought that a loving son should have.  I shook my head to clear it, and stabbed my finger at Ken's name in my contact list.  A brief lag, then the number popped up on my screen along with text that said, "Calling Ken".

It rang one and a half times before his voicemail suddenly picked up.  I felt a flash of irritation, because I knew he'd declined the call, sending me to voicemail.  As his recorded message played, I debated if I should leave the news in the message or just ask him to call back.  I didn't have much time to think, and when the recording beeped, I said, "Ken, it's Brody.  I called to share some news with you.  I proposed to Liv this weekend, and she said yes.  So we're engaged.  Give me a call, bro, because I haven't talked to you in a long time."

It was a stupid message, and I felt sad as I hung up.  I wanted the Ken from before Heather's death back.  My best friend.  My big brother.  The one who took care of me and beat up the bigger kids for me and shielded me from the evidence of my dad's failures as a family man.  This Ken was one that was rude to my girlfriend, sent my calls straight to voicemail, and never called or visited.  To be fair, though, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd called him in the last year.  It was hard, because I was always worried I wouldn't get sober Ken.  Even worse than remembering the dark, scary years of Ken's drug and alcohol use after Heather's death was the fear that one day they'd return.  It was easier to just not call and pretend to be oblivious.

I turned my attention back to my computer to try to get some work done.  I'd just gotten my brain focused back on press releases and public appearances when my phone rang.  I glanced at it, reached to silence the ringer, and then looked again.  It was Ken, calling me back.  I picked up.

"Hello?"

"The fuck is wrong with you, that you leave news like that in a voicemail?" I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.  He got harder and harder to read as time went on and the space between us grew bigger.

"Well, I had to choose between leaving it in a voicemail and taking the chance that you'd just not call me back and hear it from someone else before you heard it from me.  Lose-lose situation," I responded smoothly.

"I would have guessed you would have sent Jen to do your dirty work," he retorted, taking a stab at me for not calling him when Dad died.

"You don't call her back either," I pointed out.  She'd called him 3 times, he hadn't called any of us back.  Not me, not her, not Mom.

"Yeah, well, that fucker can rot in hell."  I cringed, my mixed feelings about our father stabbing me again.  I wasn't surprised that he felt that way, but I was surprised at the next thing out of his mouth.  "Sorry, Brody.  I know....well, I'm sorry."

"Thanks, man."  I didn't know what else to say.

A long silence stretched out, and I felt the gap between us widen painfully as neither of us spoke.  "So," Ken said finally.  "The girl from Thanksgiving, huh?"

"Yeah," I replied.  "The girl from Thanksgiving.  Her name is Olivia.  Liv."

"I remember her name.  I wouldn't have been such a dick to her if I'd have realized you were for real with her."

"That's a generous admission," I joked.  "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

He chuckled, and I felt instantly lighter.  "She's too good for your sorry ass, you know that, right?" The edge was gone from Ken's voice, and I laughed with him.  "She took my shit like a champ.  I approve."

"That's a relief, I won't have to beg Don to take that expensive diamond back."

He paused, and his voice sounded strange when he spoke again.  "I hear she handled the bastard's bullshit well too." Even now, after his death, he couldn't acknowledge our father without swearing.

"She was amazing both times she had to deal with him," I agreed.

"Don't fuck it up, little brother."  It was the most brotherly thing he'd said to me in years.  His voice was actually warm when he said it, and it made me smile.

"I'm trying not to," I replied.  "Any tips?"

At that, he burst into laughter.  "You're still an asshole.  Good to know that some things don't change.  Look, I have to get going, but I'm glad you called.  And Brody?  Congratulations."

"Thanks, Ken," I said.  We said goodbye and I hung up, feeling strange about the way the conversation started, but relieved at how it had turned out.

I turned back to my computer, determined to focus on getting some work done now.  I'd promised Liv that every Sunday from noon on was "us" time, with no work, but since we'd spent Friday, yesterday, and this morning together, she'd insisted on me getting some work this afternoon.  I tried to protest, but I sensed that she needed some downtime to recharge after the crazy and slightly overwhelming weekend we'd had, so I'd taken her up on it in the end.

I was just starting to think about taking a break when a light knock on my office door made me look up.  Liv was leaning against the doorframe, smiling at me.  "Hungry?" she asked.  "I think I'm going to make some dinner."

"Yeah," I answered, returning her smile.  "Want some help?"

"Sure," she replied, coming into my office.  She cocked her head a little and said, "Did you talk to your brother?"  She sat down on a clear spot on my desk and kicked her legs a little, bumping her toes gently against my shins.  I slid a hand down her bare calf and gripped her heel, pulling her foot into my lap.

She sighed happily as I began to massage the arch of her foot.  "I did," I answered carefully.  She arched one eyebrow as if to say, "okay, annnnnd?"  "It went...better than I expected."  I don't know what I was trying to avoid talking about my brother with her.  I always wanted her to be more open with me, I should probably give her the same.  But for some reason, talking about my relationship with my brother was just hard.

"That's good," said said.  She was still watching me curiously.

I moved her foot back down to dangle and took the other one.  "I wasn't sure what to expect, and it didn't start off very well, but by the end it was better.  He was sure to let me know that you're too good for me."  She looked surprised.  "He's used to women coming in and out of my life--both by my doing and theirs, but mostly mine.  And he's...Well, he's just Ken.  In his own weird way, he was probably trying to protect you from me.  Now that he knows for sure that I'm serious, I think things would go a lot differently."

"Hmmmm," she murmured, not sounding convinced.  And I couldn't say I blamed her.

"I know," I replied.  "I don't expect you to have any positive feelings for him until he earns them."

"I'm open to giving it a shot," she said, finally.

I wrapped my hands around the tops of her calves and pulled my chair closer to her.  She propped one foot on either armrest of my chair as I let my forearms rest on her thighs.  Her hands slid from my wrists all the way up to my shoulders.  "Thank you," I said graciously.  "That's all I can ask of you."  I moved my hands to her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of my desk.  My fingers slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and brushed across her bare skin.  I dropped my head down and pressed my lips to the smooth skin of her leg.

"I'm hungry," she protested half-heartedly.

"So am I," I replied, lightly biting her inner thigh.  She wound her fingers into my hair, keeping my head close to her leg.  "Food?" I asked.  I caught the edge of her shorts in my teeth and tugged gently.  "Or....?"  As I waited for her to decide, I slid my tongue along the skin just below the hem of her shorts.

"Food can wait," she groaned, wrapping her legs around my back and pulling me even closer.  She lifted her hips so I could pull her shorts off.

"Good decision," I said with a grin.

"We'll see about that," she teased me.  "I'm awfully hungry so you'd better--" she stopped with a sharp intake of breath as my mouth roamed to flesh that had previously been covered.

I paused and looked up at her.  "Make it worth it?" I finished for her.

She nodded, tightening her fingers in my hair.  "Oh, I will," I promised.

(Now) Brody: Appreciation

I pushed open the door to the small jewelry shop in Colorado Springs and paused for a second, taking in the familiar sights.  I was missing a lot of work time to come here, but my mom has known the owner forever and I don't think I'll ever feel right about buying jewelry anywhere else.

I was greeted cheerfully by an attractive woman who was probably in her early 30s.  She was the type of woman that I would have turned on the charm for a year ago.  But now?  Nah.  I was glad it wouldn't be painful to look at her, but other than that, I just hoped she knew her diamonds.

She started to ask me what she could help me with, but was interrupted.  "Brody?  Brody Adler?  It's about time you stopped in here!"  Don's booming voice carried across the store, empty of customers except for me.

"Hi, Don," I greeted him.

"Don't you 'hi, Don' me, young man.  Get over here and give me a hug!  I haven't even seen your mother in ages, how is she?"  I laughed and walked towards him, obliging him.

"She's hanging in there," I replied, once we had separated from our brief man-hug.  "Doing pretty well, actually.  I'm going to take her out for lunch after I'm done here."

"Good.  You tell her to come visit me.  What can I do for you?  Surely you don't need one of those?"  He motioned to the engagement rings I was peering at through the glass.

I chuckled.  "Not quite yet," I said.  "Soon, maybe.  Today I just need...something.  I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for."

"Uh oh, sounds like you're in trouble," he said knowingly.  "What did you do?"

I smiled.  "No, not today.  This is a 'just because' gift."

"Always a good choice.  Necklace?  Earrings?  Diamonds?  Something else?"

"I...don't know," I said.  I really didn't have much of a plan.  "A necklace, maybe.  Diamonds, definitely."

He nodded and put a hand on my shoulder, guiding me towards a display case a few down from where I was still absently gazing at engagement rings.  "Have a price point in mind?"

I looked through the glass of the case at the necklaces.  "No," I replied.

"No?" he asked, surprised.

"No," I repeated.  "I'll spend whatever I need to on the right piece."

"Well, I'd be remiss to argue with that.  Tell me about the lucky lady," Don said, watching me as I slowly walked the length of the display case, looking at what he had.  "I bet she's pretty.  In fact, she must be something really special if you're here."  This was the first time I'd ever come to see Don with intentions of buying jewelry for anyone but my mother.

I looked up and him and grinned.  "She's absolutely gorgeous, Don.  I'm the lucky one.  She's a therapist--she works with a lot of teenagers.  I don't know how she does it.  I can't stand teenagers."  Don laughed.  "She's brilliant and intuitive and funny.  She's also crazy stubborn and hot-tempered, but I love it most of the time.  She's a tiny little firecracker."

Don nodded, listening.  "What do you think about this one?" he asked, pulling a necklace from the display case.  He laid it on the counter in front of me.

I ran my finger along the white gold chain and shook my head.  "It's beautiful, but it's not her," I said.  It was too flashy for Liv's tastes.   It was something I'd probably buy for someone I wasn't as in tune with, for someone whose tastes and preferences I hadn't bothered to get to know.  He nodded and put it back.   Don waited patiently as I walked back and forth, pausing when I saw something that caught my eye.  Finally I said, "That one.  Middle row, third from the right."

Don pulled out the necklace and laid it on the counter.  I picked it up and inspected it carefully.  It was rose gold, with a reasonably sized, simple pendant.  The pendant had pave-set diamonds around it, and there were two larger diamonds and a pearl nestled within the pendant.  "Yes," I said.  "This is it."  I didn't even bother looking at the price tag.  It didn't matter.

Don grinned.  "Excellent choice.  That one is a custom design that was made just for my shop.  You won't find a duplicate anywhere.  Do you want to look at anything else?"  I shook my head.  I didn't need to stand here and agonize all day.  This was the one.  He took it back and motioned to the lady that had greeted me originally, who was now cleaning the display case glass.  She got to work getting a box while Don walked over to the register tucked back in the corner.  He hit a few buttons then told me the total.  I didn't even blink as I handed over my JP Morgan Palladium card.

Don's employee appeared next to me with my purchase, beautifully gift wrapped.  "Thank you," I said graciously.  She smiled and disappeared.

"Well, son," Don said, clapping me on the back as we walked towards the door.  "I hope she loves it.  If she doesn't, bring her here to pick something else.  I'd love to meet her anyway."

"She'll love it," I said confidently.  I said goodbye to Don and walked to my car.  I called my mom and let her know I was on my way to get her.  When I arrived at her house, she walked outside before I could even put my car in park.

I parked quickly and jumped out so I could open the passenger side door.  She hugged me tightly and kissed my cheek before climbing in.  Once we were headed back towards town, she said, "I could have met you in town, you know."

"I know," I replied.

"You haven't even told me why you were in town.  And on a work day, no less."

"I was paying Don a visit," I said.

"Don?" my mom asked.  "Brody, did you buy...?"  She trailed off, looking at me to confirm or deny.

I chuckled.  "A ring?  No.  Just a necklace."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw disappointment flash across my mom's face before she arranged it back into a neutral expression.  "Maybe someday I'll get some grandchildren," she said wistfully, gazing out the window.

I rolled my eyes and almost laughed at her abnormally dramatic (and not terribly believable) statement.  "You know we don't have to be married to make that happen, right?"

She glared at me, a rare look from my placid, good natured mother.  I tried to keep the smirk off my face but failed.  "You do want to marry her, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes, mom.  I absolutely want to marry her.  But I'm pretty sure she's not ready, and I'm not interested in rushing her.  I learned the hard way not to rush her."  My jaw flexed involuntarily as I thought of the night I proposed her moving in with me.  That was not an experience I wished to repeat any time soon.

"Hmmm," my mom said.

Taking her cue, I rambled on.  "I think she's almost ready though.  I really do.  I think Mexico helped."

"So you had a nice time?"

"Yes," I replied.  "It was really great.  Perfect, actually.  I wish we were still there."

"Then why are you making that face?" my mom asked pointedly.  I glanced at her and saw her face screwed up in a frown, impersonating my own impression.

I snorted.  "I was just thinking about how much work I'd have waiting for me when I get back from this little excursion."

Now my mom frowned for real.  "You can't do this forever," she said.

"I don't want to do it forever," I replied.

Either she didn't hear me or she didn't believe me, and she continued.  "You work way too much.  It's not good for you, and I can't imagine it's good for your relationship."  I nodded, agreeing.  "It was fine when you were young and single but you need to start thinking about where you want your priorities to lie going forward."

"Mom, I know," I said.  She gave me a skeptical look.  "I do," I insisted.  "I can't just work less, it doesn't work that way.  I have to make big changes to get there.  But I'm not taking new clients, I have someone actively recruiting staff, and I'm grooming Pete to be able to some day step into the role of managing all the day-to-day stuff.  I don't want to get completely out of the day-to-day, but I do want to be mostly focused on bringing in new clients and our relationships with other agencies and professionals--attorneys, agents, the media.  That's what I like the most, it's what I'm best at, and I can make that happen on a much more reasonable schedule.  I don't want to be at the office until 9 and then working from home until all hours of the night.  Someday I want a family, and I want to be actually present in their lives."  I left, "unlike my dad" unspoken, but the words still hung heavy in the air between my mom and I.

My mom didn't say anything for several seconds and then she nodded.  "Does Olivia know all that?"

I shrugged.  "Kind of, I guess.  I mean, she knows my goal is to not always work this much.  And she's seen me make big changes to the way I do things to improve our relationship.  She knows I'm not taking new clients, but I guess I haven't really told her the rest.  I feel like I make so many 'it won't always be like this' promises that I need to be careful of how often I'm doing that, because I don't want the words to end up feeling empty."

I thought my mom would lecture me on communicating, but instead she just said, "You've worked really hard to get to where you are, and I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom," I replied.

My mom dropped the marriage/grandchildren/working too much conversation and we had a nice lunch.  Towards the end, when she made the third off-hand comment about "a friend", I finally put it all together.  "Mom, are you...dating someone?" I asked in surprise.

She studied my face carefully before giving a curt nod and saying, "Yes, I guess you could call it that."

I grinned broadly.  As far as I knew, my mom hadn't dated anyone even semi-seriously since she and my dad had separated, so many years ago.  She was trying to play this off like it wasn't a big deal, but I could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.  "Mom, that's great!" I said happily.  "I'm happy for you."  I was curious who he was, how she'd met him, how long, but I knew if she wanted me to know those things, she'd tell me.

"Thank you," she replied.  Her cheeks were rosy, which was as close as her olive toned skin got to blushing.  "He's a bit younger than me, but he's a very wonderful man."  Then she promptly changed the subject and I knew that would be all I got from her now.

We finished our lunch and I brought her back home, then got started on my way back to Denver.  While I drove, I called Jen.  I didn't know if she'd be done with work or not, but I figured I'd try.  "Hello, my dearest brother who is so good at staying in touch," Jen said sarcastically when she picked up.  "I feel like it was just yesterday when we last talked."

"Hi Jen," I replied, ignoring her dig.  It had been awhile.  I'd like to think we'd spoken since we were both in Miami after dad died, but aside from a few texts, I guess we probably hadn't.  "How are you?"

"I'm pretty good," she replied, softening.  "I had today off, so I don't have much to complain about.  How about you?"

"I'm good," I replied.  "I just had lunch with mom.  And Liv and I went to Mexico a couple weeks ago, so I don't have much to complain about either."

"Yeah, Mom told me you guys were going to Mexico.  How was it?"

I filled her in and we talked about random things for awhile.  Then I said, "Did you know Mom is dating someone?"

Jen laughed.  "I did, actually.  Or rather, I had a suspicion.  She never quite came out and said it, and I didn't ask, but it sure sounded like she was dating him."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked indignantly.

"It was hers to tell, not mine," Jen responded reasonably.  "And anyway, maybe if you called me, I would have."

"Hey," I protested, not willing to get raked over the coals for something that was a two-way street.  "The phone works both ways."

"Fair point," she replied.  "We've both been really busy, I guess.  I've been traveling a lot for work."

"Are you seeing anyone?" I asked.  "Now I feel like this is a question I have to start asking everyone when I haven't talked to them in awhile."

Jen snorted.  "No.  I was, for a little while, but it wasn't very serious and it didn't really work out.  Actually, he ended up being a huge asshole."

"Sorry, Jen.  Want me to fly out and kick his ass?"

She laughed.  "No, but at least you're asking now, and not just threatening boys on the playground when they so much as looked at me."

"Someone had to watch out for you," I replied indignantly.  "None of those boys had honorable intentions."  I could almost hear the sound of her eyes rolling.

Jen and I talked almost my entire drive back to Denver.  It felt good to catch up with her.  At the end, she suggested that Liv and I come out and visit sometime.  I agreed and promised to talk to Liv about it.  The best part was that she didn't lecture me about working too much, and she didn't mention marriage or babies or rings.

I took a quick detour into town.  I'd decided to pick up some things for dinner.  Liv was a great cook, and had been making sure that there was always something to eat when I got home.  If I had been at work late enough that I just ate there (if I remembered to), then I'd take it for lunch the next day.  She'd usually eaten already by the time I got home, but she'd always sit with me while I ate.  I always thanked her and tried to show her how grateful I was, but I was worried that she'd soon start to feel like she'd moved in to do all the work around the house, and I didn't want that. The couple times I'd been done with work early enough to have a chance at eating with her, I'd picked something up so she didn't have to cook, but it wasn't quite the same.  I wanted to sit down and eat with her tonight, and I wanted to cook.

After a quick perusal of my favorite grocery store's meat counter, I picked two New York strips, then grabbed some stuff for a salad and some potatoes.  Outside of breakfast and the basics, I had a pretty limited repertoire of things I made well, and steak was one of them.  Luckily, Liv loves steak as much as I did, so she doesn't seem to mind.

When I got home, I had a couple hours to work before I needed to get dinner started.  On Fridays, Liv's last client usually left at 5, then she'd stay to finish up her paperwork and she was usually home around 6.  So I figured I had about 2 hours before I needed to get the grill on and get the potatoes on, and I could do a little more work while those cooked before I needed to put the steaks on.  I didn't even bother opening my email, because I knew it would just distract me from the more urgent things I needed to get done.  When I got a text from Liv that said, "Stopping at the grocery store, anything you want me to grab?" I only responded, "Thanks, but I'm good.  I'll see you at a reasonable time tonight :)"  I didn't want to ruin the surprise too much.

Her stop at the store bought me an extra 30-45 minutes, and I managed to finish all the things on my to-do list that would have otherwise gotten me out of bed at 2am to finish before I could get some real sleep.  I was relieved, because now I could enjoy my evening with Liv more freely.

I'd just put the steaks on when I heard the garage door opening.  Excellent timing.  Liv walked into the kitchen, where I was opening a bottle of wine, and smiled.  "What are you doing home already?" she asked, looking surprised.  "When you said 'reasonable time' I figured you meant around 8 instead of 9."

"I was already here when I sent that," I said, returning her smile.  I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her close enough to kiss.  "I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate everything you've been doing lately.  This doesn't come anywhere near close to making up for all the work you've done around here, and your patience with my schedule, but I just want you to know that I notice it and I'm grateful."

"I don't expect you to make up for anything," she replied, "but I do love coming home and getting to spend time with you, especially when it means I don't have to cook."

I kissed her again and handed her a glass of wine.  We went out onto the deck and I flipped the steaks, then we both sat with our wine and talked about our days.  Or, she talked about her day.  I talked about some of the work I'd done.  I'd fill her in on the rest later.

A few minutes later, the steaks were done and I set them on a plate to rest while I got the potatoes off the grill and brought the salad out.  Liv started to get up to help but I shook my head and told her the only thing she was doing tonight was enjoying her wine and her steak.  And not to brag, but I cooked the steaks perfectly.

We took our time eating and finishing our wine.  When we were done, I grabbed Liv's plates plus the other random utensils and dishes scattered around before she could.  I took them into the kitchen and put everything on the counter, then turned to her.  "Don't even think about doing anything with these," I instructed her.  "I'm going to wash them tomorrow, because I'd rather spend the rest of the evening with you, and doing them now will take away from that."

She held up her hands and smirked.  "No problem, I won't touch them.  It'll be hard, but I think I can manage.  You know how much I love to do dishes."

I laughed at her sarcasm and wrapped an arm around her waist.  "I appreciate your commitment to avoiding your favorite things for me," I replied.  I kissed her, letting my hands drift from her waist over her hips then up her back.  She pressed her hips against me and gripped my shirt tightly in her fist, and I pulled away before we got too carried away.  "Hold on," I said.

"Why?" she asked, pouting.  She ran her hands down my chest and stomach and paused at my belt.  It took all my willpower to take a small step away.  She looked puzzled.

"Because, you need to open this first," I replied, pulling the gift wrapped box out of my pocket, where it had been since I left Don's store.

She looked at the box, then back up at me.  "What is it?" she asked curiously.

I smiled. "If I tell you, that kind of defeats the purpose of it being wrapped," I teased her gently.  I held it out to her.  She took it tentatively, as if scared it was going to burn her.

She looked up at me again, the puzzled look still on her face.  "Did I forget some occasion?" she asked, worriedly.  "Because I do that shit all the time."

"No," I said laughing.  "Just open it, would you?  It's not going to hurt you."  I pulled out a chair from the dining room table and motioned for her to sit.  Then I sat next to her.

She tugged at the ribbon, a little squished from being in my pocket for so long.  She got it off and slowly unwrapped the paper.  She set the paper aside carefully and lifted the top off the box inside, then sucked in a sharp breath.  "Oh," she said softly, looking at the necklace.  She ran her finger along the chain, then looked up at me.  "Brody, it's gorgeous.  Thank you."  She still looked puzzled and then she said, "I love it, it's amazing.  Please don't take this the wrong way, but...why?"

"Why not?" I asked, echoing the words from the card with her flowers from last week.  That didn't seem to stifle her curiosity.  I took the box from her hands and took the necklace out.  I motioned for her to turn and she did, pulling her hair out of the way so I could put the necklace on her.  "Because I love you.  Because I appreciate your patience.  Despite the changes I've made in my work schedule, I'm well aware that there are more that need to happen in order for things to be ideal.  And you've changed your expectations and been a lot more flexible with my schedule and I'm grateful."

I paused as she turned back around to face me.  "But, there is one thing that this is not, and I want that to be really clear."  She furrowed her brow and waited for me to continue.  "This is not an attempt to compensate for the lack of time I've been spending with you the past couple weeks.  It's not an apology or a bribe to keep you happy about something you shouldn't be happy about.  It's just a tangible way I can show you that I love you and appreciate you."

She smiled finally.  "I already know that you love me and appreciate me," she said.  "And I'm usually happy to do what I can to make things easier around here, since I have more time right now.  But I'm certainly not going to argue with this."  She lifted the pendant of the necklace and looked down at it, then brought her eyes back up to mine.  "Or with any part of tonight, for that matter.  It was an awesome surprise, thank you."

"You're welcome," I said.  I stood and pulled her to her feet.  "Now, if you'd like to pick up where we left off, I won't stop you this time."

(Now) Brody: Special Agent Finn

This is the bonus post for last week, sort of.  If you haven't already read yesterday's post on the regular storyline, don't miss it.  

Warning:  This post has some tough stuff in it.  If you might be sensitive to reading about the death of a family member and would rather skip it, you won't miss anything important from the main storyline. 

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I looked at my watch.  It was after 7 already.  I looked at my list of things I had hoped to accomplish before leaving and decided to wrap up what I was currently working on and do one more thing, then take off for the night.  No sooner had I turned back to what I was doing when my phone rang.  I glanced at the screen and when I saw "Private" I answered quickly.  A lot of my clients' numbers showed up that way.

"Good evening, Mr. Adler."  I recognized him immediately.  That calm, confident, smooth-as-silk voice could only belong to someone that worked for the U.S. Government.  When I didn't say anything, he continued.  "This is Special Agent Finn, from the Miami field office of the FBI.  We've spoken--"

"Yes," I cut him off.  "I know who you are."

"Well, Mr. Adler," he continued smoothly, "I'm sorry to be the one to have to deliver this news, but your father's body was found this morning."

He certainly didn't sound sorry.  He sounded just as-- "Wait, what?" I asked suddenly, as his words finally sunk in.  "You found his body?  So...he's dead?"  

"I'm afraid so.  And I'm sorry you had to find out over the phone.  Normally we prefer to deliver news such as this in person, but given the circumstances, I made the decision to give you the news sooner rather than later, even though that meant we had to do it over the phone."  He was completely unruffled.  Calm, smooth.  I wondered if they taught people that in the FBI academy.  How To Speak Like a Government Agent 101.  "I realize you probably have some questions, but I'm afraid that I've given you all the information that I can for now.  Would you like me to inform the rest of your family, or would you prefer to do it yourself?  You might want to give your father's attorney a call as well."

My mind was reeling.  On a surface level, I understood his words.  Their meaning was clear.  But they weren't quite sinking in.  They rested in limbo between conscious understanding and unconscious realization and it seemed as though they were blocking the rest of my brain from being able to function normally.

"Mr. Adler, I realize this is overwhelming news.  Would you like me to inform the rest of your family, or would you prefer to do it yourself?" He repeated the question in a perfectly patient tone, but I imagined that he probably rolled his eyes and sighed silently in his plush Special Agent office 1700 miles away.

"I'll do it," I snapped.  I didn't want his offensively unperturbed composure anywhere near my mom or sister.  I guessed I'd have to call Ken too. 

"That sounds like a good idea," he replied placidly.  "I'll contact you when I have more information for you.  Good night, Mr. Adler."  And then he hung up.

The first feeling that hit me after he hung up was a rush of anger.  Anger at Special Agent Finn, at my dad, at myself, at everything and nothing.  When the initial surge faded, I realized I needed to make some phone calls.  I picked up my phone and dialed the numbers easily.

I was surprised when Liv answered cheerfully.  I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the screen.  I hadn't really thought about who I was calling, I just called.  When I told her what happened, she immediately said she was coming to get me.  I could picture her hopping around, pulling her shoes on with one hand, the phone in the other.

When I hung up with her, I dialed again, this time paying more attention to the numbers.

"Two hour time difference, my dearest brother," Jen said in greeting.  I looked at my watch and realized it was close to 10pm in Philadelphia.

"Sorry, Jen," I said.  "But..."  I stopped.  I hadn't thought through how I was going to do this.  I didn't have words for it, and the last thing I wanted was to come off as compassionless as Special Agent Finn.

"Brody?" Jen asked.  "What's going on?" She sounded nervous now.

I took a deep breath.  "Jen, the FBI agent that was working on Dad's stuff called me.  He said...they...well, they found...goddamnit!"  I bit out the curse harshly after stumbling over the words too many times.

"Is he dead?" Jen asked softly.  Thank God for my sister's perception.  "Brody?  Say something."

I realized it had been several seconds since her question had been asked.  "Yeah.  ...Yeah, he's dead."

Jen was silent for a concerning amount of time, then said, "Did you tell Mom?  Or Ken?"

"No, you're the first person I called."  That wasn't entirely true, but I wasn't sure how Jen would feel about me telling Liv before I told my family.  "I was going to call Mom next.  And Ken..."

"Let me help," she said gently.  "I'll tell Ken.  Tell me what you know and I'll call him.  He probably won't answer, but I'll try."

"I don't know anything else.  Special Agent Finn isn't the most helpful guy."

"Okay.  I'll call him anyway.  You'll call Mom?  Are you going to head down there?  I assume there are things to get in order.  I can meet you down there and help."  I had never been so thankful for my sister's detachment from our father.  She was able to be reasonable and logical right now when I couldn't be.

"I can call Mom," I confirmed, sounding a lot more confident about that then I felt.  "I'm going to try to get a flight out in the morning.  I'll let you know."  

We hung up, and I dialed my mom's number with shaking fingers.  Get a grip, I thought to myself as the phone rang.  Delivering the news to my mom didn't happen any easier or more gracefully than it did with my sister, but I was relieved when it was over.  My mom immediately requested to join us in Miami.

"Why?" I asked bluntly.  "You didn't love him anymore."  It came out far more harshly than I intended, but in that moment I didn't even care.

"You're right," my mom said, not even phased by my attitude, "But I love you, so I'm coming.  And don't you dare argue with me." 

"Fine," I huffed.  "But if you're coming, I'm paying.  I'll book the tickets.  And don't you dare argue with me." 

"I wouldn't dream of it."

After I hung up with my mom, I texted Jen to let her know that Mom was coming and that I'd give her our flight info when I had it.  She texted back that she hadn't been able to reach Ken, but she'd booked us two hotel rooms already.  She offered to share with Mom, which I appreciated.  I had a feeling I was going to need my space over the next week.

Next up was Dad's attorney.  He gave me the news that Dad's house had been foreclosed on and the bank was giving us one week to get personal items out of the house before they auctioned it.  It didn't even occur to me to wonder how the bank already knew about his death.  I was still on the phone with him when Liv walked into my office.  I hung up, frustrated by the attorney's urgency in pushing me to get down there as soon as possible, and turned to Liv.  I thought that having her here would be calming, but it made me feel manic.  For some reason, as soon as I looked at her, all the things I needed to the do in the next 12 hours and the next week swam into my consciousness and I started to feel anxious.

She sat with me while I did the things I needed to do, and didn't even bat an eye when I told her I was leaving.  Her only concern was if I was okay to drive down to my mom's house.  I wished that I could appreciate her more right now, but I just couldn't.

I stopped at home and packed quickly, robotically.  I left when my suitcase was full, not even paying attention to if I had enough underwear or the proper clothes for Miami right now.  I could buy anything I didn't have.  The only thing I made sure to pack was a pair of gym shoes, some shorts, and a couple t-shirts.  I was halfway out the door before I realized I still had my suit on, and I left my suitcase on the porch and the door half open to go inside and change.  I pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and a hooded sweatshirt in my room with the lights off.  The darkness felt safer.

I don't remember much of the drive.  I got to my mom's in one piece and I guess that's what mattered.  My mom pulled the front door open before I could even get out of my vehicle.  I quickly texted Liv before I got out, so I didn't forget.  Then I walked towards the door and my mom.  She hugged me tightly and I tolerated it, but I really just wanted to be by myself. 

"Have you eaten?" she asked me as she ushered me inside.

I paused.  "I don't know," I answered honestly.  "I can't remember."

She looked concerned.  "I'll make you something."

"Fine.  Can you just...can you give me some time?  I'll eat something in a little while, okay?"  She leveled a very mom-like stare at me, and I relented a little.  "Please.  I promise I'll eat before I go to bed.  I just need to blow off some steam, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed.  "I'll see what I have."

I went downstairs to the room where Mom still kept my old punching bag and the treadmill. I went straight for the punching bag and quickly wrapped my hands.  I didn't need to injure myself on top of everything else that was going on.  I beat the shit out of the bag until I could barely lift my arms anymore.  I bitterly reflected that the last time I did this was after I had threatened to cut my dad out of my life--to pretend he was dead--if he didn't start treating Liv with respect.  As I thought about how I wouldn't have to pretend now, I began to laugh.  I wasn't really sure why I was laughing, and it stopped as I pushed the thought from my head.

I briefly considered going back upstairs, but I could still hear my mom moving around.  Instead, I pulled off my sweat-soaked shirt, wiped off my face, and started up the treadmill.  I ran until my legs hurt just as badly as my arms, and then a little bit longer just for good measure.

I listened carefully once I stepped shakily off the treadmill.  I didn't hear my mom anymore.  She must have gone to bed, which meant it was safe for me to go upstairs.  There was a note on the counter.  "There's some chicken and rice in the oven, salad in the fridge.  Please eat.  I went to bed, but I'll be ready to go by 7.  I love you.  You can wake me up if you need anything else."  I disregarded the food and went up to "my" room.  I grabbed some clean shorts and a t-shirt and then got in the shower.  I stood under the hot water until it wasn't hot anymore, then dried off, got dressed, and headed back towards the kitchen.

I opened the oven, and the smell of lemon and garlic hit me.  I suddenly realized how hungry I was, and pulled the plate out.  I opened the fridge and pulled out the salad.  While I was shutting the door, a bottle of tonic water caught my eye.  I grabbed it too, then found a lime in the fruit bowl and the gin in the liquor cabinet.  Gin and tonic, the only alcohol besides wine that my mom drinks.  Whatever, it would do.  I made myself a very generously poured drink, then sat at the island to eat.  

I ate quickly, and drank even faster.  I got up halfway through to make myself another drink.  As an afterthought, I added just one more splash of gin at the end.  And another.  I frowned as I took a sip.  "Tastes like a fucking Christmas tree," I muttered before taking another drink.

By the time I had my dishes in the dishwasher and was walking up to my room, I had a decent buzz.  I had hoped it would help me sleep, but all it did was make my thoughts uninhibited.  I fought off the thoughts of my dad that entered my head, but it was useless.  Some were happy memories:  learning how to throw a football as a kid and going to his games.  Some were less than happy: the dinner that Liv and I had with him, and the night he showed up at my house asking for help...the last time I had seen him alive.  Eventually, my brain settled on a loop of the threats I had made to him to protect Liv from his assault of intrusive, disrespectful questions.  Over and over I remembered myself telling him, "I will pretend you're dead, and I won't be sorry."

Not quite aware of what I was doing, I reached for my phone.  I dialed numbers that I still remembered by heart, even though it had been months since I'd last dialed them.  His voicemail picked up right away, and I started to shake when I heard his voice.  When it beeped, I said in a shaky voice barely louder than a whisper, "I should have helped you when you asked.  I didn't think I'd be sorry, but I am.  I am sorry."  I stopped then, wondering what the hell I was doing.  He'd never hear this.  He'd never know I was sorry.  I hung up the phone and laid in the darkness, staring in the direction of the ceiling.  I dialed the numbers one more time, and this time, as I listened to his voice on his voicemail message, tears began to gather behind my closed eyelids.  When it beeped I hung up, curled my body around the phone, and cried for the first time since Heather had died. 

(Now) Brody: I Told You So

I slaved away so you guys could have two posts this weekend.  Actually, I'm procrastinating, and this is an excellent way to do it!  If you didn't see that I posted yesterday, you should go read that post first.  I hope you enjoy this peek into Brody's thoughts!
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As much as I wished she wouldn't have done it, I get why Liv let Lauren move in.  Despite my anti-roommate protests, I would have done the same for Alex or Kevin or Christian in a heartbeat.  And I was still trying to wrap my head around Lauren and Alex dating, so I knew that Lauren moving in with him would be a questionable choice at best.  But when my stubborn-as-hell girlfriend found out she had gotten more than she bargained for, I wasn't shocked.

To be honest, it had its benefits.  I got to spend even more time with her, which was good.  I just took on a couple new high-profile clients and I was putting in extra hours again to make sure everything went perfectly.  It was worth it for my company's reputation to continue to get better and better, but it meant seeing less of Liv.  For her part, she was being surprisingly understanding about it.  I think knowing that I wouldn't unexpectedly have to travel helped a lot.  Plus, while I was spending more time at the office, my phone was ringing less after-hours, which meant fewer interruptions into the time I did get to spend with her.

We were also spending more time at my house.  While Liv's house is convenient and close to things to do, restaurants, and work, I loved my house.  I bought it for a reason.  It was sort of an impulse buy.  It was only the third house I looked at, and I put in an offer before I even left the showing.  When I walked in, it felt like mine, and it had everything on my "must-have" list, and almost everything from my "would be nice" list.  Turns out that there were already a couple offers on it, but I was bound and determined so I made an offer over listing price right there on the spot.  Two weeks later we closed and it was officially mine.  Luckily, the inspection had come back positively too; I would have been pissed if I'd had to walk away because of expansive soil damage or something.

It was a no-brainer for me to give Liv a key to my house.  I anticipated some frustration with her new roommate and it seemed like a logical next step.  Plus, I did have her key.  I was a little surprised that she had decided to use it already, but after seeing the mess that Lauren was capable of, it made sense.  But the first couple times she elected to spend a night at my house instead of hers, I had to fight an immature urge to say "I told you so."

The day that she started to just wander around my kitchen like it was hers, taking things out to make something to eat, was the day I started imagining what it would be like if it was hers.  Actually...ours.  Of course I had thought about living with Liv before...hell, I had thought about marrying Liv, having kids with Liv, being old with Liv.  But that was all sort of "what if?" fantasy.  As I stood in the doorway of my kitchen, watching her pull seemingly random things out to put together into a meal for us, I could actually imagine living with her.  Here.

It worried me that she was seemingly so against Lauren living with Alex.  I had no idea where she stood on someday moving in with me.  As far as I knew, she hadn't really thought about it.  I wasn't sure how I felt about that.  I wanted to marry her.  I may not have a lot of actual relationship experience but I know what I want, and just like my house, Liv has everything on my "must-have" list, and most of the things on my "would be nice" list. 

We had planned for Liv to spend the weekend at my house, and when I came home on Friday to Liv and dinner, I was sold on wanting to live with her.  Look, I'm not a 1950s jackass that expects dinner on the table when I get home, but I dare anyone to deny that coming home to a beautiful woman and an amazing dinner already prepared is one of the best ways to end a long week.

I figured it was as good a time as any to broach the subject.  She was irritated with Lauren and clearly making herself at home here, so why not?  I intended for it to come out a little more experimentally and a little less "hey, why don't you move in here next week?", but I was nervous and it came out less as a suggestion of something to explore, and more as a suggestion for an immediate solution to her problem.  And when she said it wasn't a good idea, I thought it would help to provide reasons that it was, which just made it seem even pushier. To top it all off, it all came out very matter-of-fact, which is not the best way to invite someone you love to live with you, I quickly discovered.

Of course, once we got into the conversation, the way she just balked and shut it down completely pissed me off a little.  It wasn't even a conversation.  It was me putting myself out there and her shutting it down, over and over.  And then I made the mistake of bringing up John.  That wasn't fair, but I was committed to this angle now, so I couldn't just drop it.  If I had just let it go...

But I didn't.  I don't know why.  Maybe I was hoping that if I pushed hard enough she'd show some real feelings.  Some plans or hopes for the future.  Brilliant plan, huh?  It clearly worked out well.  And I was truly surprised when she suddenly declared she needed to leave.  There was nothing about that idea that I liked.  For one thing, it was nearly midnight and the roads were bound to be even worse than they had been when I got home at 8.  For another, driving while upset is a terrible plan.  But what scared me the most was a weird feeling that if I let her walk out the door right now, this wasn't going to be okay.  For some reason, I just felt like this would resolve better if she stayed here and we talked about it in the morning.  There was something so final about her leaving without this resolved, especially since I had no idea what was going on in her head.

But everything I said just made me her angrier and I finally gave up.   I had no idea what to do to make it better at this point.  I just wish she would have let me drive her.  I tried to not let myself worry for at least 20 minutes, because that's the amount of time it takes to get to her house from mine with good road conditions.  I stared at the clock after that.  Knowing that it had taken me nearly 40 minutes to get home from work, I knew that would be a reasonable estimate for her too.  Probably a little more, because my vehicle handled the snow better than hers.

Every minute past 40 made me more and more anxious.  I started thinking about my sister's accident, and cursing myself for letting her go.  I should have made her stay.  She would have been absolutely livid, but at least I'd know she was safe.  By time time 50 minutes had passed, I started to feel sick.  I tried to reason with myself that it made sense for it to take her longer because more snow had fallen.  I told myself that she grew up driving in snow and was a smart, good driver.  But I couldn't push from my mind the pictures of the scene of my sister's accident that had been so carelessly published in the local paper.

At the 57 minute mark, I was putting on my boots.  I had all but convinced myself she was stuck in a ditch or dead in a fatal accident, and I was going to go find out.  My phone vibrated as I grabbed my coat off the back of a chair, and I looked at it, not sure whether to feel panicky or hopeful.  I sighed in relief when I saw it was her and that she was home.  I felt like an idiot for letting myself get all worked up about it, and I just sat for several minutes trying to slow my heartbeat before I pulled off my boots and headed upstairs to try to get some sleep.

I tossed and turned restlessly for over an hour before I finally fell into a light sleep riddled with dreams of mangled cars and flashing lights and dead bodies.  I woke up pretty early, feeling like I got hit by a truck.  I checked my phone optimistically, hoping a text from Liv would be waiting.  Nothing.  I decided I wasn't going to be the first to flinch here, and hauled myself to the shower.

I headed into the office because I had plenty to do and needed to keep my brain occupied.  I was glad to see that the plows had been out overnight and the roads were much better.  I let myself into the office and turned on my computer, dreading the large amounts of emails I probably had.  The one line I had drawn for myself was that I wouldn't check work emails when I wasn't at work, or working from home.  I didn't get them on my phone.  I didn't check them while I was laying in bed or sitting in front of the TV.  If there was an emergency, I would get a phone call.  Anything that could wait long enough to be communicated in email form could wait until I was actually working.  Of course, that meant that I collected huge amounts of emails over the weekends and even overnight sometimes.

At first, the longer I went without hearing from Liv, the more irritated I got.  But as lunchtime drew nearer, I realized that I had approached last night's conversation all wrong, especially since I had no idea how Liv felt about potentially someday living with me.  I knew I needed to give her the space she'd asked for to process last night, but I wanted her to know that I was willing to have a conversation when she was, so I sent her a text just asking her to call when she was ready.  To my surprise, she called me back within 15 minutes.  We made plans for her to meet me here.

I was surprised by her appearance when I met her near the reception desk and led her back to my office.  She wasn't wearing any makeup, which was rare for her, and she looked pale and drawn.  I figured she had slept probably about as well as I had.

I made sure to apologize right away, wanting this conversation to get off on the best foot possible.  The last thing I wanted was for us to argue again, and I knew that if neither of us had slept, it would be easy to slip down that path.  I knew she was upset, but when she started to sob, I was confused.  I had no idea what to say because I didn't know what was wrong.  And I was frustrated, because I just wanted her to tell me what was going on.

When she confessed to the accident, several feelings pulled at me.  Anger that she had been stubborn enough to leave last night and that I had been too weak to stop her, frustration that she couldn't just tell me what she was feeling last night, fear at the memories of my sister's accident that still hadn't sunk back into the depths of my subconscious, relief that she was okay, and a weird, bitter vindication that I had been right to be worried.  I hadn't been ridiculous in my anxiety last night.  I had been right.  I almost laughed then, until the reality hit me that she had gotten really lucky.  All these feelings fought within me while I squeezed my eyes shut, deciding what I wanted to say.  I went with the safe choice and hugged her while saying, "I'm glad you're okay."

We worked out plans for the weekend, and I got Liv a blanket and pillow so she could nap while I finished stuff up.  I tried to wake her after about an hour, but she just groaned and turned her head.  I let her sleep while I did some more work.  I still had no idea where she was on moving in--except that she was definitely not considering it for now, which was fine.  I would be perfectly okay with her moving in tomorrow, but I had no desire to push her into something she wasn't ready for.   I was curious if she had any sort of timeline in mind, but I knew I had to let this blow over before I tried to bring it up again.  Either way, I was ready for a serious conversation about the future.  I just hoped that she would be able to have that conversation at some point soon.

(Now) Brody: The Trouble with Promises

As promised, a bonus post with Brody's perspective on work and recent events. 
________________________________________

I hung up the phone and swore.  Liv was going to be so pissed.  Like, not speak to me for days pissed.  I never should have promised no work this weekend.  Then again, even if I hadn't promised that, she'd still be pissed. 

I could hardly blame her.  My phone would not stop.  I felt like I had spent enough time on planes in the last several months to be able to fly them myself.  I don't think Liv was exaggerating when she said we haven't spent a day together without my job interrupting since I've been back from Miami.

I'm just as frustrated as she is, but at least I expected this.  Maybe I should have done a better job of letting her know what she was getting herself into by coming back to me.  But it's too late for that now, and I had a plane ticket to book.

I texted her to let her know I was on my way.  As angry as she was going be, I knew it would only be worse if I didn't tell her in person.  On the way there, I tried to think of a way to soften the blow, but then I realized that that thought was ridiculous.  There was no way to make it suck less.  I was just going to have to apologize and weather the storm.

She didn't really yell.  She almost didn't cry.  But I was surprised at the vitriol with which she let me know exactly how angry she was.  Sarcastic, insulting Liv was not my favorite incarnation of her.  When she called me a control freak, I damn near walked out of her house right then.  The only reason I stayed was because I wanted to try to resolve things as much as possible before I left.  Apparently that wasn't on her agenda, and it was probably for the best.

By the time I walked out, I was pretty thoroughly pissed, and pretty close to not being able to hold it back anymore.  I was also really unhappy about leaving while we were both still so angry, though I recognized the necessity in letting it be for now.  So the first thing I did when I got to my car was turn off my phone.  It was nearly dead anyway, and I didn't want to be tempted to answer if she called.  Us talking now would only push this further in the wrong direction.

I had been sympathetic to her side of the situation before I had talked to her, but after the scene in her living room I was much less so.  Was she completely oblivious to the fact that my other option was to be in Miami and not be with her at all?  All these phone calls, these last minute trips, were because I wanted to be back here...with her.  Also because I wanted to be away from my dad, and own my own business, but Liv was a significant portion of the reason I wasn't living in Miami with a cushy office job and minions to do the grunt work.  I thought I'd made that pretty clear, but apparently it wasn't clear enough.   

By the time I actually got on the plane, I was much less angry and started to think about what she had said.  Did I really need to always be the person that handled these things? The constant phone calls and traveling were draining and they were interfering with my relationships.  Not just with Liv, but with Alex and Kevin and my other friends too.  But could I really push that responsibility onto someone else?  Interrupting someone else's life?  And then there was the fact that these clients that were calling at all hours were all high needs, high profile clients that needed to be handled very carefully.  Could I trust anyone to take care of them?  Was I a control freak?  It wasn't being too controlling if you wanted to be sure that your business was handled perfectly, right?  And if I really was the only one that could do it... but was I?

I had planned on trying to catch a few hours of sleep on the plane because my client's attorney wanted to see me as soon as I got into town, but now that these thoughts were rolling around in my head, any hope I had for sleep was lost.  By the time I landed, I had managed to talk myself in a circle at least three dozen times, and I was tired, frustrated, and stressed out about the situation.  While I waited for my rental car, I turned my phone on so I could let Liv know I was here.  I didn't want to potentially start any important conversations now while I needed to work, but I knew even if she was still pissed, she'd worry if she didn't hear from me.  But when my phone turned on, the battery icon flashed at me and then my screen went black again.  And I could see my charger very clearly in my mind, sitting on my desk.  Shit.

I drove straight to the attorney's office.  I'd have to pick up a charger when I was done.  By the time I left his office, I was pissed off again.  I had half a mind to tell my client he needed a new fucking attorney that didn't call me down there every time my client looked at someone wrong.  I absolutely did not need to be here for this, and the attorney had majorly inflated the situation when he called me and asked me to come down.  I probably wouldn't have been as mad if the situation hadn't caused a big fight with Liv, and I calmed myself down enough to get out of there without doing anything but smiling and letting him know I'd get right to work.

I found a hotel and was too tired to do anything when I finished my work but crash.  I realized once I was in bed that I had forgotten to pick up a phone charger.  I'd go tomorrow.

It was mid-morning by the time I managed to drag myself out of bed.  I finished up the work I had to do, sent a couple emails, and booked a flight back to Denver for this evening.  Then I went out in search of a phone charger so I could call Liv.  Maybe we could still salvage some of this weekend.

When I got back, I plugged in my phone and let it charge while I showered.  When I turned it on, I saw I had a voicemail.  I was guessing it was from Liv, and I just called her back before listening to it.  My call went straight to her voicemail, and I was confused.  Was she purposely avoiding me?  I called my voicemail to listen to her message.   "Brody, Lynn was in an accident.  She's in the hospital and I'm about to fly to Madison.  Please call me when you get this...I'm sorry for the way I acted.  I was out of line.  Please call me.  I love you."  I felt like I had been kicked in the gut.  The message was eerily like the message that I had gotten from my mom the night Heather died, minus the hospital part, the flying part, and the apology.  I was so shaken up by it that it took me several minutes to actually process the information in the message.

As soon as I did, I forgot about Heather.  I tried Liv again, still voicemail.  I had no idea what time she left her message.  Was she flying right now?  I called the airline and unsuccessfully attempted to sweet talk my way into a flight change without a fee.  When that didn't work, I tried throwing my weight around.  When that didn't work, I sighed and paid the damn fee.  The only way I could get a flight that day was to fly into Milwaukee and drive, so when I got off the phone I got back on my laptop and rented a car.

Then I tried Liv again, even though it had only been 15 minutes.  Still straight to voicemail.  I pulled up google and typed her dad's name (good remembering, huh?  I was impressed with myself) into the search box.  Within seconds I found his work number and was dialing it.

"Hello, this is Chris," came a crisp, baritone voice.

"Hi, my name is Brody Adler, and I'm Liv's boyfriend," I introduced myself awkwardly.  Not the best first conversation to have with your girlfriend's dad.  "I got a message from her saying she was flying to Madison, but I've been traveling myself and I have no idea when she left it.  I'm trying to get a hold of her, but her phone is off."

"Well hello Brody Adler, Liv's boyfriend." he replied, and he sounded cheerful.  "I've been trying to get a hold of her as well.  She's here in town though; I got her at the airport this morning and dropped her off at the hospital."

"I'm flying into Milwaukee this afternoon and driving up there," I said.  "Can you tell me where I can find her?  And is Lynn okay?"

He proceeded to give me the address of the hospital on campus and directions there from the airport.  He gave me the limited information he had about Lynn, and it didn't sound good.  "It's snowing pretty good here," he warned me, "so drive safe."  I assured him that I would, thanked him for the information and his time, and hung up.  My flight time was in two hours, so I quickly packed up my stuff and left for the airport. 

I spent most of this flight worrying about Liv.  I knew how much she cared about Lynn.  She had to be a wreck.  In the back of my mind, I knew that a conversation needed to be had about my commitment to work, if it was reasonable to make any changes, and if we would be able to deal with this long term, but for now I just wanted to be with her. 

It was indeed snowing pretty good when we landed, and a quick check of my still barely charged phone told me it was supposed to continue through the evening.  Of course.  I tried to call Liv again, still straight to voicemail.  I picked up my rental and programmed the hospital address into the GPS and took off.

I was nearly to Madison when my phone rang.  I answered without looking, hoping it was Liv.  It turned out to be Chris.  "Hey, can you do me and my wife a big favor?" he asked after I'd answered.

"I'll do what I can," I replied, curious.

"You might already know this, but Liv has a tendency to forget to eat when she's upset.  Can you try to make sure she gets something to eat?  If you can actually get her to eat, I'll be impressed, but if you could at least try, we would appreciate it."

"Liv, not eating?" I asked, surprised.  "Of course, I'll pick something up."

"I know, it was sometimes the only way we could tell if she was sick or upset about something," Chris replied with a chuckle.  We hung up and I marveled over the foreign idea of Liv not eating.  When I got close, I stopped and picked up some food.  I realized that I hadn't eaten much either, and ate mine while I drove the rest of the way.

It almost took me longer to find a damn place to park than it took me to drive there.  I was so sick of traveling and I wished that nothing from the last 24 hours had happened.  I just wanted to be back in Denver with Liv.  I walked inside and found an information desk, and they were able to direct me to the ICU waiting area.

I didn't see Liv at first, but then I noticed her laying across a few chairs.  She looked like she was sleeping, and she was flanked on one side by a good looking guy and on the other by a tall redhead who was curled into a ball in her chair and also appeared to be sleeping.  I approached their small group and crouched down in front of Liv.  I didn't want to wake her.  "You must be the boyfriend?" the guy asked.

"I am," I replied, cocking an eyebrow at him curiously.

"John," he said, holding out his hand to me.  Ah, John the Ex, I assumed.  I shook his hand and introduced myself.  "She's going to be awfully happy to see you, I think," he continued.  "She's in rough shape."

I pushed her hair out of her face and she stirred.  I squeezed her shoulder gently.  "Liv," I said softly.  Her eyes flew open and she sat up.  I was completely taken aback by her appearance.  The shadows under her eyes were so dark that if you looked quickly, it looked almost like she had been punched in the face.  Her skin was pale and drawn, except around her eyes where it was red and puffy.  It was obvious that she was miserable, and I hurt for her.

I hugged her tightly as she threw her arms around me, and any lingering anger I had from last night faded immediately.  I was a little thrown off when my proffered food sent her into a sobbing fit.  While she was crying, John filled me in on the fact that Liv hadn't slept since she had gotten up yesterday morning or eaten since the night before.  That certainly didn't help anything.

I pulled her over to a quieter corner of the waiting room and sat her down.  She choked out a scattered, emotional apology and we talked briefly about last night before I prompted her to eat.  She took the sandwich and ate silently, and I was surprised, since Chris had warned me it might not  happen, and John had said he couldn't get her to eat earlier.

I was relieved when the tall redhead told us we needed to leave.  I was exhausted and Liv clearly was too.  We both needed to be in bed.  Not that I thought either of us would get much sleep tonight.  Liv wasn't exactly good at sleeping when she was stressed out.  Then again, who is?

She seemed dazed and almost in a trance as I led her to the elevator and then the car.  I wished that there was something I could do to make this better, but the whole situation sucked and there was nothing any of us could do but wait. 

Liv's mom bombarded her with questions before we even walked in the door, and I wanted to tell her to shut up and back off a little.  But Liv dutifully filled her parents in, and then willingly sat down to the food her mom had saved for us, so I kept my mouth shut.  I was happy when Liv said she wanted to go to bed when we were done eating.

As I suspected, neither of us fell asleep easily.  I was too busy thinking about how I was going to better balance work and life and Liv, and even if I could have fallen asleep, Liv was thrashing around all over the place.  After one more crying fit, I finally got her settled, laying still against me.  The exhaustion must have finally won out over the stress and anxiety and her head got heavier against my chest as she fell asleep.

That gave me a little more time to think about what I was going to do.  I knew I had to make some changes, both for Liv's sake and mine.  I couldn't keep up this pace for much longer without losing my mind.  As I laid there, waiting for sleep, I started to formulate the plan I should have made months ago.

(Now) Brody: Meet the Parents: Dad

I woke up suddenly when Liv shot out of bed, and I was confused and concerned.  In the dark room, I could just barely see her standing next to the bed.  "Liv?" I asked, worried.  "What's wrong?"  When she didn't answer right away, I sat up.

She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and finally responded.  "Nothing, nightmare.  Sorry.  I'll be right back."  As soon as the word "nightmare" was out of her mouth, I felt an overwhelming urge to hit something, hard.  Preferably Jordan's smug, cruel face.

When she slipped back into bed and curled up next to me, I could feel her shaking still.  "You're shaking," I murmured softly, wrapping my arms around her.  "Must have been some nightmare."

"Jordan," she whispered, and the confirmation of my suspicions just fueled my anger at him.  If I ever get the chance to get my hands on him again...

But right now, I have other things to deal with.  "Do you want to talk about it?"  When she shook her head, I was selfishly relieved.  Had she wanted to talk, I'd have gladly listened, but my anger at Jordan didn't need anymore prodding.  I focused on trying to soothe Liv, which was a much more productive use of my energy right now.  I felt her tense muscles start to relax as I massaged her scalp and neck, and her head grew heavier against my chest.  But try as I might, I couldn't lull her back into sleep.  She spent the next several hours tossing and turning before she finally stilled.  I looked at the clock and saw it was already after 5.  Looks like we were both going into dinner with my dad on a shitty night's sleep.

I finally fell back to sleep too, but woke up again around 8.  I tried to decide if I'd be able to get up without waking Liv, who was thankfully still sleeping.  Her hand was on my arm, and I tentatively moved my arm.  As soon as it moved, Liv stirred.  Shit.  I'd stay here for awhile then.  I laid there for nearly an hour until I could stand it anymore, and then slowly pulled my arm out from under her hand.  She didn't move until I got carefully out of bed.  Damn it, so close.

"What time is it?" she asked, blinking sleepily at me.

"Almost 9," I replied softly, smoothing her hair off her forehead and kissing her gently.  "You should go back to sleep if you can."  She nodded and shut her eyes.  I quietly pulled on shorts and a sweatshirt and left the room. 

My mom was the only person moving around and I found her in the kitchen.  "Good morning," she said, smiling brightly at me.  "How did you sleep?"

"Not good," I admitted, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the coffee pot.  "Liv had a nightmare, and we both had a hard time falling back asleep.  This coffee is really good."

"Thanks, it's from the coffee shop in town that I like.  A nightmare?" She looked concerned, and I almost smiled.  Leave it to my mom to be worried about someone that she's just met.

"Yeah, she has them sometimes," I replied.  I changed the subject, asking what time Ken's flight was.

"It's at 11.  Jen is taking him to the airport right now.  She said she had a couple errands to run and she'll back by lunchtime.  Does Olivia like French toast?"

"She does," I replied.

"Do you want bacon or sausage?" Mom asked, surveying the fridge.

"Sausage," I answered automatically.  Mom raised an eyebrow at me.  "Liv doesn't like bacon.  But you can make either, she won't mind."

"Sausage it is," she replied with a broad grin.  "Brody, Olivia is lovely.  I'm so happy you brought her here to meet us.  I'm sorry that Ken couldn't act more appropriately, though I wasn't exactly pleased with your behavior in response, either."  She tried to give me a disapproving look, but failed, her face cracking into a slight smile. 

"Frankly, Mom, Ken's lucky that all I did was kick him under the table," I grumbled.

"Oh really?  And how are you going to handle your father tonight then?  Because I'm sure Kenneth will look perfectly pleasant compared to him.  Do you really think it's wise to take her with you?  She can stay here and keep Jen and I company, you know.  We'd love to have her."

"I've told her that she has that option if she wants it," I replied.  "I'm not going to push her into it if she doesn't want to go.  But...she needs to know.  Mom, I love her, and if she can't deal with him, then I need to know now."

My mom paused her egg whisking and looked at me, surprise evident on her face.  Then she smiled, slowly.  "Do you think she can handle him?"

I laughed drily.  "I'm actually a little more worried about him handling her.  She's a force to be reckoned with when she's angry.  She could make any man miserable, even him.  Hopefully he doesn't piss her off too much." 

"I take that to mean you've pissed her off and been made miserable, hmmm?" my mom asked, her voice gently teasing.  "Shame on you."

I could barely contain my laughter at my mom's scolding.  "Shouldn't you be on my side?" I asked indignantly.

"Absolutely not.  What is it that they call it?  Girl code?"  I nodded and burst into laughter, no longer able to contain it.  My mom nodded curtly, still keeping a straight face somehow.  "It's girl code.  So you be nice to her, or you'll hear it from her, me, and your sister!"

"I guess I'm lucky that Liv is an only child," I grumbled.

"Oh, you certainly are," my mom said ominously.  Then she cocked her head towards the ceiling and said, "I think she's up.  Take her some coffee, I'm sure she'll appreciate it after a poor night's sleep.  Breakfast will be ready in about 15 minutes."

I poured a cup of coffee, added some creamer and a little sugar, and walked up to the room we were sharing.  I opened the door and slipped in.  Liv was nearly dressed (damn) but she looked exhausted.  I gently tilted her chin up to examine her face and kissed her on the forehead.  She smiled at me as I handed over the coffee.

"Did you get any sleep?" I asked her, even though I knew the answer.

"Not really, and I'm guessing you didn't either," she replied contritely.  "I'm sorry."

"I slept some," I said shrugging.  "Better than you, I imagine."  Leave it to Liv to be up in the middle of the night with a nightmare bad enough that she bolted out of bed and was still shaking for 15 minutes after, but then still be concerned about how I slept.

We went downstairs for breakfast, which perked her up considerably.  After my mom disappeared with her "things to do," I suggested we go for a walk.  Liv happily agreed and we bundled up and headed out.

We had fun exploring and while we were playing in the snow at the park, she finally looked relaxed and happy.  She'd been so stressed out lately from work and her anxiety about this weekend, it was good to see her smile and actually have fun.  By the time we got back and showered, she looked awake and bright again and I was relieved.

Then, when we were leaving to go meet my dad, she looked much more relaxed than I felt.  I could tell she was nervous, but she didn't seem nearly as stressed as she had been on the drive down here and when I told her about the dinner.  I probably shouldn't have sprung that on her, but if I had told her sooner, she just would have worried about it longer.

I wasn't surprised when we found out my dad was already there, and I knew it would be strike one against us, even though we were still ten minutes early.  I was surprised to see a young woman sitting next to him.  I couldn't help but wonder how much he'd paid her to be here tonight.

I swallowed my irritation when my dad didn't stand up to greet us.  It was an obvious exercise of his imagined power and I suddenly wished I would have left Olivia home with my mom and sister.  Liv was perfectly polite when introduced and my dad nothing but start to grill her.  I couldn't resist jumping in, and was shocked by his admonition, complete with accusing me of manipulating both her and him.  He accused me.  Of manipulating people.  I was so surprised by the entire exchange that I couldn't even formulate a response before he was back to grilling her.

His questions and responses were each tinged with just enough disdain and contempt to be obvious to me but not so much that I had something concrete to call him on.  I sat in awe at Liv's composure.  She was fielding his questions perfectly, politely, and even tried to make conversation with his...date.  I wanted nothing more than to jump in and rescue her from his barrage of questions, but I knew it would make it worse for both of us.  Plus, Liv was really holding her own.  There wasn't a trace of annoyance on her face, and the only answer that made me pause was her very short, "I'm not," and subject change in response to my dad pointing out that she doesn't look Italian.  It was obvious to me that was not a subject she'd be elaborating on tonight, and I made a mental note to ask her about it later.

When he started asking about what her parents did, I'd about reached my limit, and I cut in.  He snapped back at me and then continued asking questions.  Liv gave me a small smile and squeezed my leg reassuringly and I was again awed at how she was handling this.  I was impressed and grateful and quite frankly, I'm not sure I'd ever loved her more than I did right now.

Then my dad asked how many children she had.  Not "Do you have any children?" but "How many?"  A blatant implication that she was just like anyone else I'd ever...been with.  That she was a whore, a slut, perhaps using me for my money because my dad tended to assume that about every woman.  Liv had proven she could handle the benign questions, as contemptuous as they were, but I was not going to allow him to make these types of insinuations about her.  I was absolutely done with this idiocy and I didn't care what the repercussions would be as I snapped, "Enough!" at him.  It was far too loud for the setting we were in, but it got his attention.  He met my eyes and we stared each other down for several seconds before the server came to the table to take our order.  

After he left, Liv murmured that she was going to find the restroom.  I stood and pulled out her chair and when she met my eyes she smiled.  She still looked perfectly calm and put together, which was more than I could say for myself.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I turned to my father.  "How fucking dare you," I growled at him.  He raised his eyebrows in an expression of surprise that might have fooled someone that wasn't related to him.  "I will not sit here and let you insult my girlfriend any further.  This stops now, or we go."

"I was simply making conversation, Brody," he replied calmly.

"You and I both know there isn't an ounce of truth to that statement.  You can drop your shocked and innocent act.  You've spent 30 years pushing me around, but now it's over.  And if you think for one second that I will let you push someone I love around, you have another thing coming.  If you really feel the need to be a sneaky, underhanded asshole tonight, do it to me.  I'll take it.  Hell, I'll take it with a smile and a 'yes sir', but you will not fucking do it to Olivia anymore."

Now my dad's face looked vaguely impressed.  "Well, well," he replied, the corners of his lips turning up in a slight smile that looked nothing short of menacing and evil.  "No wonder you finally found the balls to stand up to me.  It's just too bad it's a woman that has you utilizing your skills.  Women come and go."  He glanced dispassionately at the young woman sitting next to him, who frowned in confusion.

I leaned forward and said, still angry, "You are finished with your bullshit tonight.  If you so much as insinuate that Olivia is anything less than a perfect fucking angel and the most wonderful person in the entire world, we are done.  Not just with dinner.  With you.  Forever.  You will get nothing from me.  I will pretend you're dead, and I won't be sorry."

Now my dad looked genuinely surprised.  I admit that the last sentence was a little over the top, but that was the only way to drive home a point with my father.  And I know, that as much as he acts like a complete asshole with no care in the world for others, he would not be pleased to never speak to me again.  Who would he control then?  "You really do love her," he said softly, his tone one of wonderment--not his usual tone at all.

I looked up and saw Liv approaching.  "Yes," I replied.  "I really do love her.  More than I thought possible.  So remember your manners."  My dad gave me a curt nod, and I forced my face to relax as I stood to pull out Liv's chair for her.  As I sat, I gave him one last hard look.

Of course, my dad couldn't do anything just the way someone else wanted, especially after being threatened.  So instead of just being polite and nice the rest of the meal, he took what I demanded of him and ran with it.  He shut out his date and me, and focused all his pleasant attention on Liv.  He was nothing but polite, friendly, and charming, so I couldn't even say a word about it.  At least it was clear that he took my threat seriously, even if he still had to get his stab in at me.  That's okay though, I told him I would take it, and it was better me than Liv.

When he cheerfully asked about dessert, I was still too angry to even entertain the idea.  I was reasonably certain that I would have been better able to handle this whole situation if I hadn't started my day at 2am with serious anger towards Jordan.  Fucking Jordan.

When Liv offered to drive, I gladly took her up on it.  I didn't think she'd appreciate my angry driving.  It was definitely better if she drove.  I was thankful she was perceptive enough to not try to talk to me.  I couldn't even remember the last time I had been this angry, and the last thing I wanted to do was snap at Liv just because she had the bad fortune to have to be near me right now.

When we got home, I stalked straight downstairs without a word to anyone.  I knew my mom and sister would take care of anything Liv needed, and right now I needed to burn off some of this anger so I could tell her how much tonight meant to me.

I pushed open the door to the room with my bag and the treadmill.  I tugged off my stupid tie and took off my shirt.  I liked this shirt.  It didn't need to take the brunt of my anger.  Over and over I slammed my bare fists into the bag, feeling every hit reverberate painfully up my arms.  I hit the bag until Jordan and my dad faded out of my mind, and all that was left was the amazing way that Liv dealt with the entire evening.  I knew that she'd hold her own.  If I hadn't been confident in that, I wouldn't have taken her.  But I couldn't have anticipated the grace with which she'd handle my father--and me for that matter.

I stopped, finally, my arms shaky and feeling like overchewed gum, my hands throbbing angrily.  I leaned against the wall, examining my knuckles and considering all the ways that Liv had blown my mind in the few short months we'd been together. 

When she walked into the room with a smile, teasing me about my hands, I was relieved.  I wasn't sure how she'd react to my anger.  Granted, she might not have had such a nice response if she had heard what I'd said to my dad while she was in the bathroom.  I hoped she wouldn't ask about it.  I wouldn't lie if she did, but I definitely preferred her to not know how low I'd stooped to get him to act semi-appropriately. 

Liv seemed to sleep great that night, but I didn't.  I tried to go back to sleep after we had sex, but just as I drifted off, my phone rang.  I rolled carefully out of bed and answered out in the hall.  It was a quick call, but I knew I wasn't going back to sleep.  I wandered downstairs and found my mom in the kitchen again.

My mom greeted me with a cup of coffee and once I was settled with it, she asked, "Well, how'd she do?"

"She was amazing, Mom.  I knew she'd be okay, but she was unbelievable."  I grimaced and said, "Actually, she handled him much better than I did."

My mom pursed her lips, then asked, "What did you do?"

"I lost it," I admitted.  "Only once, and not in front of Liv, at least.  He was being absolutely awful to her.  I was so angry.  After he essentially implied that she was a gold-digging whore, I chewed him out.  And I....I threatened him."

"Brody," my mom chided.  "Dare I ask?"

I put my head in my hands, miserable at the memory.  "I told him I'd cut him out.  Never speak to him again.  I said...I said I'd pretend he was dead and I wouldn't be sorry."

My mom simply stared at me for a moment, then said, "Well, what's done is done, no sense in beating yourself up over it.  I'm just sorry you let him get under your skin so badly."

"I just couldn't understand why he was being so awful to her.  I expected him to be a jerk, but he was far beyond that," I said, frustrated.

"You really don't know?" my mom asked, looking surprised.  I looked up in confusion.  "Honey, he's threatened by her.  You were the only one left in this family that he had any control over, and that was just because of the company."  I considered this.  My mom and brother hadn't spoken to him in years, as far as I knew.  And my sister only did when she had to.  I was stuck under his thumb as long as he was my boss.  "You know he called me, right?"

"What do you mean? Called you when?" I asked, still confused.

"Hmmm, I believe it was when you went down to sort of the mess with his manager?  The first time, before he offered you the shares and new position.  He asked me if you had been seeing anyone.  He knew.  I think he was worried about losing his control over you."

"So, he...what?  Offered me the position and shares as a last ditch effort to keep me under his thumb forever?" I asked, astounded.

"I think that's exactly what he did," my mom replied calmly.  "And when you defied him by not only not taking the position, but buying him out, you sent him into a serious tailspin."  I gaped at her, stunned and disappointed in myself for not figuring it all out sooner.  "Are you okay?" she asked me.

"I'm...I don't know," I muttered.  "I'm going downstairs.  To the treadmill.  If Liv gets up, will you keep her occupied?  I just need to wrap my head around this."

"Of course, sweetheart.  I was thinking brunch at 11 before you leave, is that okay?"  I nodded.

I slipped silently into our room, being as quiet as possible while I grabbed socks and my shoes.  Liv didn't move, and I was glad she was sleeping.  She needed it.  I looked at my watch.  It was just after 9, giving me plenty of time to pound out some miles on the treadmill.  My arms and hands were sore from my punching bag assault the night before, but my fingers and knuckles were surprisingly only a little swollen.  Good form, I guess.  Now I could make my legs hurt too.

I ran at a brutal pace for 45 minutes, only stopping when I was worried that my legs would actually give out.  I hadn't spent enough time running lately, and my body was protesting.  I felt a million times better now, though.  I flexed my arms and stretched my legs, savoring the soreness that represented the anger I had worked out. 

As nice as it was to see my mom and sister, I was relieved when Liv and I headed out.  I was also relieved that she wasn't interested in going out and that she wanted to spend the night with me.  I couldn't imagine a better way to round out this insane holiday weekend than sleeping in my own bed with the woman I loved.