Hemlock Grove
Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)
Genre: S/V, AU
Summary: Sydney Bristow only had one goal for her trip home to Hemlock Grove, a place she has not been in over eight years. Of course, once she arrives back in the small town atmosphere any hope of getting in and getting out quickly is lost and the hope of rekindling an old romance is gained. [15]
Disclaimer: Sydney, Vaughn, etc are properties of JJ Abrams and ABC.
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Chapters 1-10 // Chapters 11 - 15 + Epilogue
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Prologue
“You got married?!” exclaimed Amelia Vaughn, shock and horror filling her eyes as they shifted between her son and apparent daughter-in-law before her.
“Isn’t it great?” Michael beamed. He snaked his arms around his wife’s waist and gave her hip a gentle squeeze; she smiled back at him.
“But Sydney is only eighteen years old! And she just graduated high school last week!” Amelia insisted.
“We love each other,” Sydney chimed in with an explanation while giving her new husband a gooey-eyed look. “Besides, I’m still going to Penn in the fall; my plans aren’t changing,” she assured the elder woman. They had it all planned out and were not nearly as rational as Michael’s parents made it seem.
“So you’re going to quit working in the shop?” Michael’s father, Bill, demanded. He was referring to his shop, Vaughn’s Auto Repair, which was the only car-related store within the limits of their small town of Hemlock Grove, Pennsylvania.
“No, of course not. While Sydney’s in Philly, I’m going to keep working and stay here and work on the house,” Michael smiled.
“HOUSE?!” Amelia and Bill asked in unison.
“Yeah, we bought the old Branson property,” Sydney told them. They had just closed the deal that morning, making the down payment using the money from Sydney’s salary from the grocery store, and from Michael’s full time work at the auto repair shop.
“That run down shack?!” Amelia asked, her horror turning to nausea. “You cannot live there! It doesn’t even have any plumbing or electricity!”
“Yes it does, Mom,” Michael groaned at his mother’s melodramatic attitude. “It’s just a little run down. I’ll fix it up, though,” he assured her. Amelia threw her hands up in the air, obviously fed up with their actions, and disappeared from the room. She could not believe her son and his girlfriend of two years were acting so foolish.
“It’s all going to work out fine,” Michael said to his father.
“I hope you’re right, son,” Bill said before walking off in the direction his wife had just disappeared.
“It is going to be fine,” Sydney told him, knowing he would be slightly hurt from his parent’s obvious disproval.
“Yeah,” he said, giving her a half smile and then kissing her. They had a plan and, as long as they stuck by it, everything would be fine.
Chapter 1
“…get ready cats and kittens – we’re flashing back to 1981 with Rick Springfield’s Jesse’s Girl here on-”
Sydney Bristow groaned loudly as she punched the seek button on her car’s radio. She absolutely hated 80’s flashbacks, especially when it came to music (and fashion trends). She had lived through the decade and was in no rush to relive it in any form.
She settled on a station playing soft rock before relaxing back into the seat of her rented BMW. Living and working in New York City she had no use for a car on a day to day basis, so it would have been an utter waste to own one. In fact, the only time she drove was when she went on a business trip and rented a car at her destination. Even that was not all that frequent. That day was no business trip, though; it was her first vacation in years. Then again, vacation was the wrong word. Typically, a person looked forward to a vacation and planned it weeks in advance. Sydney was not exactly looking forward to her trip back to Hemlock Grove after being away for over eight years. She had not planned her trip, either; it was more of a spur of the moment decision to do something that was a long time coming.
Cruising down the tree lined roads of northern Pennsylvania, Sydney was careful to watch her speed. Years earlier, during her reckless youth, she sped along similar narrow roads by her hometown. One time, while fiddling with the radio, she lost control of the vehicle and slammed it into a very large pine tree. Miraculously, she was unharmed, but the car was not so lucky. After an endless verbal lashing from her father, Sydney was scared straight enough to know that going seventy miles per hour on such a road was not a wise decision to make.
As Sydney drove towards her home town, her mind drifted back to the last time she was there. It was Christmas 1998 and as much as she wanted to stay at the University of Pennsylvania over their four week semester break, she knew she had to come home to visit her father. Her mother had died before she was thirteen years old and since she had no siblings her father was the only family she had.
During that month’s worth of time, she rarely left her house, not wanting to inadvertently run into him on the streets. She wasn’t ready to talk to him, not yet, not after what happened. Confrontations were not her strong suit at all. Then again, avoidance was not usually something she did either, but in that particular case avoidance was definitely preferable over some horrible confrontation. Their confrontation would be horrible too; there was no way around that.
After that break was over, though, she never returned. Of course she had seen her father when he came to visit her at school or up in New York City, which he tried to do at least twice a year – once on her birthday and once again at Christmas. They spoke over the phone, too. As for setting foot back in Hemlock Grove, though, she just could not bear it. At first, it was too soon. Then, as time passed, it would have been too awkward, something she just could not bear.
Now, at the age of twenty-eight, she realized she had avoided that confrontation for far too long. At that point, it was just downright pathetic that she was afraid to speak with a man she had known practically her whole life. There was nothing frightening about him (except perhaps when his favorite baseball team was on a particularly painful losing streak), so she needed to get it over with, lest it continue on forever. It was going to be horrible, that she knew, but at least it would be over with and she could move on with her life.
For the most part, Sydney had moved on from her life in Hemlock Grove. She was a successful financial advisor working for one of the foremost financial firms in New York City. She had an apartment in a high rise, wore designer clothing and expensive jewelry. This was a complete one eighty from her life in Hemlock Grove, where ‘designer’ meant the Martha Stewart Collection from K-Mart. Not to mention the fact that a job like a financial advisor would be nowhere within the town limits.
The only thing left tying her to Hemlock Grove was him, and with that visit she was going to sever that tie. Though it made a part of her very sad, it was time to break the bond; there just wasn’t anything left anymore.
When she pulled off the highway onto the road that would take her straight through the middle of Hemlock Grove, butterflies began to fill her stomach. In her mind, she began imagining all the possible reactions he would have when she confronted him. In many of these instances he would yell until his face was red and his brow crinkled beyond repair. Most likely, this was the most accurate of all the scenarios, which was why her trepidation was growing with each traffic light she passed beneath.
Finally, after many hours of driving, she arrived at her destination. She parked her car along the street, not wanting to block the gravel driveway exit point, before taking a deep breath an exiting her car. As she walked up the front path, she found that, not surprisingly, the Vaughn residence had not changed very much over the years. The flowers in the bed surrounding the house had grown significantly, and there was a new rocking chair on the wrap-around porch, but otherwise it was identical; this made her smile inwardly, hoping that the house occupants had remained steady as well.
Her hand trembling ever so slightly, she knocked on the wood frame of the screen front door. Through it, she heard dishes clinking as someone rose from the brunch table to see who was interrupting their mid-morning meal. When Amelia Vaughn appeared in the hallway looking just as Sydney remembered her, Sydney smiled at her and waved ever so slightly.
“My goodness! Sydney that isn’t you is it?!” Amelia asked excitedly.
“It’s me,” Sydney confirmed softly, adjusting the purse strap over her shoulder.
“Oh honey look are you! It’s been so long!” Amelia said. As she pushed open the screen door, it creaked loudly, but it did not faze either of the women as they embraced each other warmly. “My goodness child you are skin and bones! Come inside and have something to eat!”
“Oh I don’t want to impose on your-”
“Nonsense,” Amelia cut her off with a wave of her hand. “You’re coming inside and you’re going to tell us all about your time in New York. Your father told us that you were working up there at some big fancy firm… I can’t remember what it is that you do though…something with numbers…”
“Financial advising,” Sydney informed her.
“Yes that! Oh I don’t know how you do it but I’m just so happy to see you!” Amelia said pulling her into yet another bone-crushing hug. Then, she pulled the younger girl into the house, nearly ripping Sydney’s arm off with her fervor.
Once inside the house, Sydney was overwhelmed with a sense of family, despite her still fluttering nerves. She had spent many, many days in her youth in the family room at the Vaughn residence in which she stood. After her mother’s death, Amelia became sort of a replacement mother in her life. Not keeping in touch with her during her time in the big city was definitely one of the regrets Sydney had.
Looking around the familiar environment, Sydney caught a glimpse back into the kitchen, where there was a distinct six-foot-one-inch figure slinking behind the refrigerator out of view. She would have to deal with him in a moment; there were still more hugs to be given out.
“Sydney we were thinkin’ you were never gonna come back,” Bill Vaughn said as he, too, gave her a hug.
“Well I’m just so busy,” she said as a weak defense. True, she was busy, but after eight years that was not exactly a valid excuse. “This is the first vacation I’ve ever had,” she laughed.
“They’re working you to the bone up there - just as I suspected. You need to come back here and get a more relaxing job – maybe at the bank,” Amelia smiled at her.
“Nice try,” Sydney laughed softly, winking at her. “I do love my job though – a lot. It’s fun and I don’t mind being busy; it’s nice for once.”
“Well we’re glad you’re happy dear,” Amelia smiled at her before giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Now how about you come and get something to eat? We’ve got pancakes and bacon and hash browns and muffins – all your favorites,” she enticed. Weekly Sunday brunch at the Vaughn’s was a must. When she still lived in Hemlock Grove, Sydney only missed it if she was too ill to even sit up properly; it was absolutely her favorite meal of the week.
“Wow I haven’t eaten like that in a long time,” she laughed softly, knowing that as of recently her lunchtime meal consisted mostly of coffee, coffee, more coffee and sometimes an occasional salad or cup of yogurt. She followed Amelia into the dining area where he was sitting at the table, staring intently at his plate. Only when she sat across from him, did he look up and lock eyes with her.
“Hi,” she said timidly.
“Hi,” he echoed almost silently. Then, he turned his eyes right back down to his lap.
Sydney sighed inwardly as she reached for a plate to pile pancakes onto. Of course her first meal with her husband in nearly nine years was going to be very awkward. She merely hoped it wasn’t going to be painful as well.
Chapter 2
It was obvious to the elder Vaughn’s that their son was absolutely not in a talking mood, not that they could blame him for this. However, so things did not become too painful, they took it upon themselves to keep the conversation flowing along with the food.
“Sydney you only took one piece of bacon – here take more,” Amelia said, holding out the plate to the much thinner girl beside her.
“Oh no, no, one is plenty,” Sydney assured her. Glancing down at her plate she found that thanks to Amelia it was nearly overflowing; that was more food than she ate in a typical day during her New York City life. Then again, the differences in the two cultures showed. In Hemlock Grove, being a dainty eater was frowned upon, which partly explained why Sydney weighted ten to fifteen extra pounds while living there.
“So, Sydney, tell us,” Bill began, “in New York were you one of those people that you hear about leaving the house at eleven pm to start the evening?”
“No, definitely not,” Sydney laughed softly. “I have to be at work at seven-thirty in the morning; by eleven o’clock I’m getting ready for bed.”
“Sounds reasonable, but what time do you get home from work?” Amelia asked.
“Sometimes not until after six,” Sydney told her with a slight cringe.
“My goodness those are long hours!”
“I know,” Sydney laughed softly, “but I’m working towards a promotion right now and, hopefully, if I get it, I won’t have to work as much.”
“I hope you do get it,” Amelia smiled at her.
Bill agreed with a nod. “Boy if you’re that busy it’s lucky you had time to come here!”
“I made time,” Sydney smiled at him.
“So why did you come?” Michael asked, looking up to her. He had otherwise been completely silent, save an occasional squeak from his fork scraping against his plate. Now, it appeared, he had finally gathered his thoughts enough to make his voice heard. “I mean, if you’re so busy and all, why did you come? Because obviously you are busy. So busy in fact that you couldn’t even pick up a phone in eight years. Wow, that is busy,” he said, staring her down. Though his tone was flat, it was dripping with underlying bitterness.
While Bill and Amelia held their breath, Sydney calmly set down her fork. “Perhaps we should talk about this outside,” she said to him.
“Fine,” he grunted, standing up quickly as he threw down the napkin in his lap. Sydney stood in a lady-like fashion, picking up her oversized purse on the way before following him out to the front porch. “So?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.
“I think you know why I’m here,” she said softly,
“Um, no I’m pretty sure that I don’t because if I knew why you were here I wouldn’t be asking why you were here!” he snapped.
“Fine,” she sighed, resting her purse down on the nearby railing as she spoke. “This has gone on too long so I just… well, here,” she said, handing him a brown folder held together with a large black clip.
“What’s this?” he asked, refusing the time and taking a step away from her.
“Just take them,” she said, jabbing at his chest with the folder.
“No,” he refused once more. “What are they?”
“Divorce papers,” she said simply.
“D-Divorce papers?!” he laughed in an almost amused manner. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Why…would I be kidding?” she responded with utter confusion. After all, for the later eight years of their marriage (which was a marriage only by legal status since they were in no means married in any other form) they had not seen or spoken to one another. She had dated people in that time and was positive Michael had done the same. For all intensive purposes they were already divorced; it was time that fact was made a legal one.
Michael shook his head with disgust. “You show up here in the typical Sydney fashion – expecting everyone to drop everything and bow down to you so you can continue being queen of your own Sydney Universe. In eight years you never called you never wrote hell, you probably never even talked to your father either! You just disappeared one day and that was it so why should I bend over backwards to help you when you sure as hell haven’t cared about me in the past decade!”
“Jesus Christ Michael I’m not asking for a kidney!” she exclaimed with frustration. “I would have thought you wanted this too! Whatsamatter? Hemlock Grove not producing women who will cook all your food and do all your laundry for you? Looks starting to fade in your old age? Don’t you want to get married again thus need to be divorced so you can do that?”
“Do you?” he challenged. She said nothing. “Well you know it’s funny. I don’t think I’ll be getting married again…Yeah, got married once…really didn’t work out so well. Actually, it was rather awful.”
She growled at him and thrust the folder towards him once more. “Just sign the damn papers Michael and then I’ll go back to New York and you don’t ever have to think of me again – which, clearly, is what you have been doing for the past eight years!”
Michael took one look down at the folder and seemed unimpressed. “I don’t think so,” he said casually.
“What?!” she screeched.
“I don’t think so,” he repeated, more slowly for her benefit. “No, I think you need to spend some time around these parts. You never know, it may do you some good. Carrying around that big head of yours must be exhausting; maybe some time around here will deflate it a bit…”
“What about the divorce?!” she shrieked at him.
Again he looked at the folder saying, “I’ll sign ‘em when I’m good and ready.” Then, with that, he pushed past her and walked off towards his car leaving Sydney fuming on the porch.
Once he had sped off, kicking up dirt and gravel in his wake, the screen door creaked open and Amelia appeared. “C’mon dear; finish your breakfast and tell us more about your job,” she encouraged softly. She was acting as though the previous argument between her son and daughter-in-law had not taken place at all. Of course, she had heard the whole thing, but was pretending as though she hadn’t; the typical small town way.
“Yeah, okay,” Sydney mumbled, picking up her purse and the divorce papers before following her back inside. She would just have to deal with Michael another day.
Chapter 3
After finishing up her brunch with the Vaughn’s, during which Michael was not mentioned at all, Sydney left, promising that she would not leave town again without at least stopping by to see them once more. If Michael’s attitude continued as it was, though, it appeared she would not be leaving for quite some time.
After leaving the Vaughn’s, Sydney drove to her father’s house, the house in which she grew up, which took all of three minutes time. She parked her car in the driveway bedsides the white paneled van that belonged to her father. He was an electrician for Hemlock Grove and the surrounding area and the van parked in their driveway (which, unfortunately, was their only means of transportation in Sydney’s teen years) bore his name and profession in large block lettering. Naturally, this was a source of embarrassment to Sydney over the years and she avoided riding in that van at all costs.
After grabbing her luggage from the backseat of her vehicle, Sydney headed up towards the front porch, taking notice that as her father’s hours as an electrician increased, the paint quality on the front of the house decreased. She made a mental note to offer to pay someone to repaint the house for him while she was staying there.
Just a moment after she rapped on the screen door, not wanting to just barge in even if it was her house, her father came to the door looking just as surprised as Amelia had been. “Sydney, what are you doing here?” he questioned, opening up the door and ushering her inside. While they spoke at regular intervals, even discussing a time when he could go and visit his daughter during that summer, Jack was under the impression that Sydney would never be returning to Hemlock Grove, at least not in that decade.
“I came to divorce Michael,” she said simply.
“Oh,” Jack said. While he did not dislike Michael as a person, Jack was never a fan of Sydney’s marriage to him. He did not have a problem with their relationship as a whole, though; he merely felt that no one should get married as long as they were still in their teen years. In his mind, it was foolish. “How’d that go?”
“Not well,” Sydney sighed. “But I didn’t expect it too.”
“Right… did he at least sign the papers?” Jack asked.
Sydney scoffed. “No, of course not and he was a real jerk about it too. I’ll just have to try again tomorrow,” she resolved.
“Or…you could do it through a lawyer,” her father suggested.
“No, I have to do it this way. I mean, I can’t honestly blame Michael for being a little jerky. After all, I’m the one who hasn’t spoken to him in eight years,” she sighed, glancing around her father’s home. In eight years it had not changed one bit. The same pictures still adorned the walls. Her mother’s knick-knacks still rested in the exact same spots on the end tables. Aside from the fact that her father appeared to have purchased a new recliner, all was the same.
“He didn’t bother to call you either,” Jack pointed out. Not once had Michael approached him and asked for Sydney’s contact information. Not that he would have given it out very willingly to the younger man, but he would have at least respected him a tiny bit more.
“He didn’t have to, Dad. I’m sure the rumor mill around here was spinning a thousand miles an hour; he knew I wasn’t coming back,” Sydney sighed. “It doesn’t matter, though; its in the past. Mind if I stay here a few days?”
“You can stay as long as you’d like,” he smiled softly at her. She thanked him and gave him a quick hug before taking her bag down the hall towards her childhood bedroom. There, time stood still as well and, aside from a few more inches of dust across everything, nothing had moved an inch.
Slightly miffed that her father had not vacuumed her space in all that time, Sydney took it upon herself to make the area livable once more. She cleaned, dusted and, as she did so, remembered fondly the times that corresponded with each and every memento she had.
Hanging down from the corkboard above her desk was the lei given out at the post-graduation celebration. The small area of Hemlock Gove had one school building for grades seven through twelve (the younger students were housed elsewhere) and Sydney’s graduating class only had forty-three people, the largest class the school had ever seen. Needless to say, everyone knew everyone else – all the stories, all the secrets, all the drama. Since Michael graduated two years before she, Sydney attended the post-graduation festivities alone (they were only for the graduating seniors; no dates allowed). That night was one of the few they spent apart doing separate activities, so it held a certain amount of loneliness for her. She did manage to have some fun, though, particularly when she won the raffle and was able to take home a hundred dollar gift certificate to Sears. Sydney laughed softly at the recollection that that had been the highlight of her evening.
While dusting she passed more knick-knacks and trinkets including photos of herself and her mother when she was younger that brought tears to her eyes. When she came around to the other side of her bed, she found the only new item in the room: a cardboard box overflowing with some of her clothes and other belongings. One look in it and she knew it was from the home she briefly shared with her husband.
Since during the early (and only) stages of their marriage Sydney was attending college and moving in and out of the dorms, she had never officially moved into the house they shared. This was also because their house was a ‘fixer-upper’ in every sense of the term, and was not exactly a suitable living environment for them, especially not in extreme temperatures due to the holes in the walls and roof. Therefore, very few of her belongings were actually in the house at the time of their split. This was probably a good thing considering it appeared that some of them were now broken or shattered, most likely a result of Michael’s disapproval of the way their union ended. Signing, Sydney kicked the box aside; she would go through it later.
Once all the cleaning and dusting was complete, she curled up in her bed to take a much needed nap; it had already been a very long day.
Chapter 4
After spending a very pleasant evening at home with her father, Sydney had a surprisingly unsatisfying nights sleep. When she first moved to New York City, it had taken her weeks to adjust to the constant sound of traffic, sirens, and loud neighbors, all of which were virtually nonexistent in Hemlock Grove. Now that she was back, though, she had to readjust to falling asleep in the quiet, as ironic as that seemed.
Another thing that kept her tossing and turning the majority of the night was the concern that maybe Michael would not be as cordial as she hoped with regard to their divorce proceedings. Perhaps he would decide that he wanted something out of their dissolved marriage like spousal support or emotional damage reimbursement. After all, at present she had a great deal more money than he did. The Michael she married nearly ten years earlier would not have sought out such things. However, the Michael at present…well, she wasn’t sure, but she needed to find out as soon as possible.
After eating a very light breakfast consisting of only coffee and a single piece of toast, Sydney showered, dressed and debated her course of action. She knew without a doubt that Michael would be working at his father’s auto garage; finding him was not the issue. The problem was that after eight years she could not simply stroll into the center of town, where the garage was located, unnoticed by all the town residents.
Undoubtedly, the majority of the people would be aware of her presence after the public fight she had with Michael the prior day plus the brunch she had at Amelia’s. In fact, she was shocked that people had not come knocking on the door to see what she was up to. Then again, perhaps they were not that brazen; nosey, yes, but bold, not always.
As much as she wanted to simply slip in, get her divorce, and slip right back out again, she was far too familiar with the workings of a small town to believe that was possible. Still, she hoped to make as tiny a splash as possible on the local gossip radar. Though she knew they would gossip wildly no matter what happened, she always preferred to stay out of the main lines of conversation since it was rather unnerving to walk down the street and know that everyone around was whispering about you. Sadly, that had happened shortly after she and Michael eloped; that event had rocked the whole town.
Upon convincing herself that staying cooped up in the house was not her style, Sydney grabbed her purse and headed out the front door wearing the most comfortable shoes she owned. She was going to walk through town and answer any questions fired at her on the way so long as they weren’t too personal. That way, she would get all the bad out of the way all at once and she could have peace for the remainder of her stay in Hemlock Grove, or as much peace as she would ever get while staying there.
As she walked through the streets of her former neighborhood towards the main road, she was surprised how empty they were. It was the beginning of summer and she would have expected dozens of children to be out on the streets playing with one another like she had done during her youth. The only person she saw outside was one lone boy bouncing a basketball in his driveway. Considering that it was only the second week in June, it was possible that some of the students were still in classes. Then again, she supposed they may have just been inside playing video games as children tended to do.
The first town hangout she came across was Hemlock’s Diner, the main eatery in the area. Amelia had been the head waitress there for as long as Sydney could remember and she debated stopping inside to say hello, but she quickly rethought that decision knowing it was not a good idea to walk into the den of a lion covered in blood. Instead, she crossed the street and continued walking, knowing that it was very likely everyone seated by the dinner windows was staring and pointing in her direction.
After just another minute of walking, Sydney had her first encounter with residents of Hemlock Grove dying to speak with her. Mae’s Daze was the local barber shop salon and a favorite hangout of the sixty-five and over crowd. There, Sydney found a few former educators from Hemlock High who were anxious to find out how she was fairing in the big city. She was glad to talk with them for a few minutes before pressing on; she was just a few minutes from the center of the town and Vaughn’s Auto.
After trudging up the high leading to the town center, Sydney came to a dead stop. Straight ahead should have been the old, rather rusted Vaughn’s Auto sign that had been there for nearly half a century, ever since Michael’s grandfather had opened the shop. Instead, she saw a bright shiny new sign displaying Vaughn’s Used Cars & Auto Repairs. Exhaling with mild disbelief, Sydney increased her walking pace, anxious to see the changes that had occurred in the usually stagnant town.
As she neared the recently (at least recent within the past eight years) remodeled building, her jaw began to creep towards the pavement. Vaughn’s Auto Repairs as Sydney knew it was a worn down garage on the street corner capable of housing three cars at once. A tiny office was attached to the building, but it was mostly unimpressive. Now, it seemed, that garage had been torn down and rebuilt into a very modern and crisp structure. Also, the Vaughn’s had expanded further down the block to another building surrounded by a parking lot filled with about fifteen used cars, all for sale. Utterly amazed, Sydney hurried across the street and began to wander through the rows of cars.
“Can I help you?” asked a young, well dressed man who was obviously a salesman. Sydney vaguely recognized this fellow as a person she attended high school with, though he was a few grades younger than her.
“Oh…uh… no, no I just came to see-”
“Sydney! I was hoping you would drop by!” Bill Vaughn grinned as he crossed the parking lot to greet her. “C’mon, c’mon let me give you a tour.”
Sydney stepped forward and allowed Bill to guide her with an arm around her shoulders as they made their way to the new garage-slash-office building. “Bill I… I had no idea that you were planning on expanding this way…”
“Well to tell you the truth I wasn’t,” Bill chuckled. “You know me – I’m old and set in my ways. I was perfectly happy just running that garage…but Michael convinced me to do otherwise.”
“M-M-Michael?” Sydney stammered in utter shock. She had no idea that he had such ambitions. Then again, the last time she was in contact with her soon to be ex husband he was a bit too wrapped up in fixing up their house to think of anything else.
“Yes Michael. Right around the time you-” Bill stopped himself short, cleared his throat, and changed his line of speaking, not wanting to say ‘around the time you left’. “Just as you were probably movin’ to the big city, Michael came to me with this crazy idea. At first, he just wanted to update the garage a bit – which I couldn’t really argue with since it was in a rather poor state. Then, he just kept talkin’ about expansions and...well, you know him when he gets his mind on somethin’ its hard to get him off of it. Like a dog with a bone that kid,” Bill laughed.
“Yeah,” Sydney exhaled.
“Well anyway, it took us a few years to get everything done but here we are. It’s goin’ well, too,” he smiled.
“I’m very glad,” Sydney said. Then, she was silent as Bill showed her around their new office and garage. Part of the tour was the (in Bill’s words) swanky office he shared with his son. Sydney took notice that both of the desks in that room were empty, and she was just about to ask where Michael was, when she found her answer.
“What are you doing here?!” Michael asked with disgust as he walked into the office carrying half a dozen bags of McDonald’s food. Obviously, he had run out to get lunch for himself, and possibly a few others judging by the amount of food he had.
“I came to find you,” she said, trying to maintain as polite an exterior as possible. Meanwhile, Bill slunk back into his office, feeling it was best to remain behind closed doors.
“Well you shouldn’t be here; I’m working,” he snapped, tossing the bags down on a nearby empty desk.
“I just wanted to talk; we have to talk,” she said.
“Well I don’t have anything to say.”
“Look, Michael,” Sydney said, her tone growing progressively sharper as she became more and more irritated with his attitude. “I don’t know why you’re being such a jerk about this but-”
“ME?! You’re calling me a jerk. You are calling me a jerk?! Oh that’s rich, that’s real rich Sydney. You know what? Why don’t you just get the hell out! You don’t see me coming to your work and making your life miserable!” he insisted.
“Fine!” she snapped at him before storming out of the office and slamming the door behind her.
Chapter 5
“So,” Jack asked when he walked into the kitchen and found his daughter stirring a pot on the stove, “how was your day?”
Sydney grumbled under her breath. “You mean you don’t already know?”
“Well,” Jack said slowly, “I did hear something between a rather public confrontation between you and Michael…”
“You mean in the middle of his father’s used car dealership? Uh, yeah…meanwhile, when they hell did that happen?! Since when is Michael such an entrepreneur?!”
“I don’t know what you mean…”
“Bill told me that it was Michael’s idea to branch out into the used car business,” Sydney explained further.
“Oh, well I hadn’t heard that. It doesn’t surprise me, though. Since you’ve been gone Michael’s been rather focused on his work,” Jack told her.
“Well apparently that’s made him a royal pain in the ass,” she muttered. Her father gave her a disapproving look, mostly towards her language use. “Well it’s true! I don’t understand why he won’t just sign the divorce papers. You’d think he would want to get on with his life. I mean, he’s been dating…right?” she questioned.
“I really wouldn’t know,” her father said, raising up his hands in defense. “Perhaps Michael just wants some time to get used to the idea of divorcing you.”
“Dad, seriously?!” Sydney laughed in disbelief. “Its not like we were happy as can be and then suddenly out of the blue I asked for a divorce. We haven’t even been in the same state in eight years!”
“But that’s the thing,” her father challenged. “This is out of the blue. You two had gotten used to just coexisting married only in name. Now, suddenly, you’re ending it. You’ve probably been thinking about this for quite some time, but as far as Michael knew, you were just going to stay married forever and never come back and ask for a divorce.”
With this new information, Sydney sunk slowly into a nearby chair. Her father did have a point, a very good one, too. She had been thinking about the divorce for about a year. It took her a few months to go to a lawyer and then a few months after that to sign the papers herself and then nearly six months before she worked up the courage to face Michael in person. It was unfair of her to just show up out of the blue and expect Michael to sign the papers immediately. She knew him better than most people and she knew that he was not a spur-of-the-moment guy. Well, he had been, but only one instance in his life: when they eloped. He needed time to think and weigh the consequences, so it was only fair the she give him time to do that with regard to their divorce.
“Your right, Dad, your right. I’ll let Michael cool down for a day and then I’ll go over to his house and speak with him calmly,” she emphasized.
“Good girl,” Jack smiled at her. “So what did you make for dinner?”
“Don’t get too excited, Dad,” she laughed softly. “It’s just soup. I’m afraid I lost all my cooking skills when I gained all my financial ones.”
“Nonsense, they’re just rusty. I’m sure if your life depended on it you could whip up a mean dinner,” he smiled.
“I suppose I could,” she smiled back; she had missed being home, even if it was just a tiny part of her doing that missing.
~*~
For all of Tuesday, Sydney did not bother Michael, at all. In fact, she didn’t bother much of anyone. She stayed in the house and just relaxed for the first time in a long time. She watched some TV, but since her father only received a handful of channels (he was not much of a TV fan) and she was not interested in soap operas that was very short lived. She moved on to some pleasure reading of old novels she found in her room, ones she had not read since high school.
For dinner Tuesday evening, she and her father went to the Hemlock Diner, which was her first ‘public’ appearance. She knew that Michael never ate at that diner unless forced to by her, so it was a safe location. Safe in the ‘at least we won’t have another awkward encounter where we’ll yell at each other’ respect anyway. She, however, was not safe from throngs of people asking her the same questions over and over and over again. She politely answered all of their queries, though she was so busy talking to everyone in sight she could hardly eat any of the dinner she ordered. Luckily, Amelia packed it up for her to take home in a nice plastic container with extra mashed potatoes just the way she liked them.
On Wednesday, Sydney tried once again to contact Michael. Not wanting yet another public humiliation, she called the used car dealership before stopping by unannounced. By speaking with Michael’s father, she found that he had the afternoon off. Apparently, he would be waiting for some sort of repair man, Bill wasn’t sure what.
With this information, Sydney grabbed her car keys and headed towards her former place of residence. She would have called ahead but that would have given Michael time to flee the premises. Not to mention the fact that she did not have a phone number since when they lived there one was not available. She merely hoped that when she arrived, Michael did not have his shotgun ready to take some shots at her rented car.
The former Branson property they bought to be their very own was located on the outskirts of town. The two acres of land consisted of mostly woods along with a small stream. To access the house, one needed to drive down a narrow lane cleared through the trees; the house itself was not visible from the main road due to the dense brush. Because of this, Sydney was not able to catch a glimpse of it until she was right on top of it; then, she gasped.
To say that Michael had fixed up the house would have been an understatement. Fixing up implied that it went from a hole-filled shack, to a place where one could live comfortably without fear of being rained on through the roof. Michael had made the house gorgeous with soft yellow paint and dark blue shutters that Sydney loved. He even had a small garden growing along the front porch, though Sydney suspected that was probably Amelia’s doing.
After string at the house for a solid five minutes, Sydney got out of the car, making sure to grab the file folder with the divorce papers on the way. She walked up the white painted porch and knocked twice on the front door. It opened rather quickly (most likely because Michael was hoping it was the repair man being shockingly on time), but when Michael saw who was standing on his doorstep he tried to shut it again.
“Michael stop,” Sydney commanded, jamming her foot in the doorway so the door could not shut. “We need to talk.”
“You’re not welcome here,” he growled.
“Really? Last time I checked I paid for half of this place,” she challenged. His look softened ever so slightly. “It looks beautiful by the way.”
“Don’t try and butter me up,” he snapped.
“I was just telling the truth,” she said honestly. He muttered something she couldn’t hear before stepping aside and letting her in the house.
“What do you want, Sydney?” he asked in a rather defeated way. She held out the folder as her answer. “I told you I’d sign ‘em when I was good and ready!”
“When, exactly, will that be?” she questioned. “I can’t just stick around here, you know; I have a job to get back to.”
“Well far be it from me to keep you here. Lord knows I couldn’t do it the first time,” he snapped. “Why don’t you just go now? I don’t want you here and I’m waiting for someone!”
“The repair man; I know,” she said softly, still stung slightly from his comment about being unable to keep her there. Amazingly, he was not one hundred percent of the reason she did not return to Hemlock Grove. At least in part, she was doing it for herself; her career.
“No, not the repair man,” he said. She gave him a questioning look. “Well, yes, the repairman but someone else, too…a-a woman!” he insisted, pointing at her.
“A woman?” she raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded firmly. “A woman is coming here at one thirty on a Wednesday afternoon? What is she, a hooker?” He gave her a rather glaring look. “I see…so what is this woman going to do when she gets here? Is she a maid?”
“No, she’s not a maid. I’m capable of cleaning my own house,” he said, gesturing around. Sydney looked around the room and saw that while it was not harboring any mold or small rodents, she would not exactly have called it ‘clean’.
“Really?” she challenged.
“Yes…I’ve just been busy lately…”
“With this woman?” she asked, mocking him slightly.
“Yes! Yes I’ve been busy with her and she is coming over this afternoon so…so we can have sex,” he said sounding progressively more idiotic by the moment.
Sydney could not help but laugh at this. “You are pathetic.”
“Not as pathetic as you,” he retorted childishly.
“I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes. “Look, if you just sign the papers I’ll go. You never have to see me again.”
“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you,” he said, his eyes narrowing towards her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Heaven forbid you’d have to come back to your old hick town after living in the big city with your posh, swanky friends. I bet when they ask you were you grew up you don’t tell them the truth, or you tell them the whole town burned down just so they don’t know where you came from.”
Sydney glared at him. “Excuse me, you don’t know a damn thing about my life in New York.”
“Oh I think I do. I think you go to work everyday and you work for those slimy CEOs embezzling money from everyone and you schmooze fancy clients so they’ll give you lots of money and you take them out for dinner and drinks…and then you go home to your empty apartment and count your money because that’s all that matters to you in your empty, empty life. You have no friends. You don’t want any, either. You just want your money. After all, that’s why you left here, isn’t it? Couldn’t stand being middle class any longer…”
Tears brimming in her eyes, Sydney forced herself to stand firm. “Why don’t you just go to hell Michael!” she shouted.
“Why don’t you just get the hell out of my house!”
“Fine!” she shouted, throwing the envelope containing their divorce papers at him.
“Fine!” he retorted, but his response was muffled by the slamming of the front door as Sydney left as quickly as possible.
Chapter 6
As Sydney stomped her way out of Michael’s house, she realized driving was probably not the best idea, so instead of getting in her vehicle, she walked pass it and towards the woods where a narrow path awaited her.
After ten minutes of fighting her way through overgrown brush and tree branches, Sydney arrived at a clearing. Before her flowed the narrow but fast moving stream that ran through Hemlock Grove. Part of the reason Sydney and Michael decided to buy the Branson property a decade earlier was the bridge going across that stream. For some reason, the two of them loved that bridge; it was where they shared their first kiss; it was a symbol of them. Tears returned to Sydney’s eyes once more as she walked up one side of the bridge and stood at the top, leaning against the railing. As she looked out across the moving water, she couldn’t help but be washed over with memories of her youth.
As was the nature of a small town, growing up, Sydney knew practically everyone just as practically everyone knew her. She had a fairly typical childhood with the exception of her mother passing away from cancer when she was just twelve years old. After that, her mother’s close friends, Amelia among them, took it upon themselves to make sure that Sydney still had an adult female presence in her life just incase she had questions that could not be answered by her father.
Because of this, Michael was almost always around. Of course, when she was twelve and he fourteen, they did not have very much in common at all and thus hung out only on rare occasions. The summer before her sophomore and his senior year of high school, though, that all began to change.
Late in August, the two of them were attending the MacDougal brothers’ end of summer bash. There, for the first time, Michael saw Sydney in a different light. This may have been in part because she was wearing a scandalously red bikini and, at the age of seventeen, he was apt to notice such things, but then again, she was Sydney, a girl he knew to be the sweetest in the whole world.
Shortly after that party, Michael showed up at Sydney’s house and invited her on a walk with him. She, having no idea of his growing feelings, was confused by this and even more confused when he kissed her on that bridge. She blushed furiously and asked him what was going on at which point he so eloquently told her that he hoped they could “you know, do stuff sometime…or something.” Luckily for Michael, Sydney had been fully smitten with this comment, despite what it lacked in vocabulary.
Once school began, the two began to date regularly, and it was no secret around their fair town that they were a couple. Michael’s parents were thrilled since they already thought of Sydney as a daughter. Sydney’s father, however, was a bit more cautious towards their relationship, but Sydney felt this was simply because Michael was her first real boyfriend and he was not too fond of the idea of her dating at all.
By Christmas, after barely a few months of dating, they both knew that their relationship was something special. Though Sydney was rather inexperienced when it came to her love life, she was not anxious to date anyone else; in her mind Michael was the perfect guy. Michael felt the same way about her.
After he graduated, he went to work in his father’s shop. In his mind, there was no other option. While his grades were not bad by any means (he averaged Cs), he never had the desire to seek further education. Sydney felt this was mostly because his father constantly brought up the subject that they would run the shop together after he graduated, and Michael felt he was to do this out of family obligation. Plus the fact that he had no specific career wishes gave him little motivation to do otherwise.
While Sydney had no problems with Michael’s chosen career path, her father did not feel the same way. He did not think it was appropriate for his daughter, who would be attending college after she graduated, to continue seeing the town mechanic. Sydney scolded him on this point, stating that a person’s job did not matter; all that matter was who Michael was as a person and that happened to be the person she loved the most.
For the most part, things did not change for Sydney and Michael as Sydney continued her high school education. The only major change was that on Valentines Day during her senior year, a year and a half into their relationship, they finally crossed the intimacy barrier, a first for both of them. A month and a half earlier, on Christmas Day, Michael had given Sydney a promise ring and with it came the promise that, one day when they were ready, they would be married.
In July, after Sydney graduated, a giddy evening filled with wine they stole from Michael’s parents’ house led to the two of them eloping the very next day. Of course once they sobered up they realized they needed to have a very detailed plan or their marriage would not work out at all. Two hours of discussing and arguing later, they had one and went to their parents to discuss it.
Naturally, all three of their parents were shocked and mildly horrified at their decision. For weeks the atmosphere in both their households was very tense. Sydney’s father forbid her to stay at the Vaughn’s and would not allow Michael in their house despite their legal marriage. They lived separately as the town gossiped around them about a potential annulment.
Eventually, Michael’s parents came around and were actually happy about it, mostly because Sydney and Michael were practically over the moon themselves. They managed to talk Sydney’s father into at least being civil and allowing the newlyweds to stay in Michael’s room, like they planned to while their house was still unfit for inhabitation.
The first year of their marriage was very difficult, but they were better people for making it through. Like she planned, Sydney went off to college five hours away from her husband. Due to financial constraints, they were not able to visit more than one weekend a month, which led to many lonely nights. The up side of this was that Michael was able to get a significant start on their home before the winter months kicked in.
After celebrating their one year anniversary still happy and in love, Sydney and Michael felt as though from then on everything would be smooth sailing. They had made it through the hardest part and everything else would be easy, or so they foolishly thought. Little did they know, the worst was just about to begin.
A mere two days before Sydney needed to return to Penn for her sophomore year, she and Michael were continuing to work on their house, when they got into a fight. Sydney was concerned that their house would not be done by that Christmas as she would have hoped. She was not looking for much, either, simply a place to sleep where they would not die of hypothermia overnight. Michael argued back stating that he was working as hard and as fast as he could, but with a full time job that was not always easy.
Sydney left for school still not speaking with her husband after the angry words they had exchanged. A week later, she did call to apologize, stating that she would see him in a few weeks during her first break. He accepted her apology and gave one of his own, but they hung up still feeling the strain on their relationship.
The next time they saw each other it wasn’t the same. They were silent, not knowing what to say to make it better, feeling it would only get worse. Working at their house again, they argued once more, speaking the last words they would ever speak in eight years.
“…how can you yell at me for not being finished when you are clearly not doing your share?!” Michael demanded of his wife, throwing down his hammer out of frustration.
“Me?!”
“Yes you!”
“Michael, I’m going to school five hours away. What the hell am I supposed to do?! Come pound a few nails after class?! That’s impossible and you know it! This was our agreement: I would go to school and you would stay here and work on the house,” she told him.
“As far as I can recall, that was your idea and I don’t remember agreeing to it,” he said.
“Funny ‘cause you did,” she muttered.
“Well it’s not fair! How can I do all this work all by myself when I work all day long too?!”
“And you don’t think I’m working?! You think I’m out drinking beer at night and laughing at my poor lowly husband back home?!” she snapped.
“I didn’t say that,” he hissed. “I’m saying you need to pull your weight here.”
“And I’m doing that by going to school so I can make money so we can afford this nice house,” she returned. He turned away, shaking his head. “You know what I think this is about? I think you resent the fact that I’m going to school and you’re stuck here.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he spat.
“You’re damn right it is! You had your chance Michael. You could have gone to school and I would have supported your decision to do that, but you chose not to; you chose to stay here. That was your decision and now you have to live with it. I chose to go to school so I could make something of myself whereas you chose to stay here and be a mechanic and now that’s all you’ll ever be - a worthless mechanic covered in grease! At least I’m doing something with my life!”
“Get out!” he shouted.
“Gladly!”
Tears streaming down her face at the recollection of the worst moment of her life, Sydney leaned heavily against the railing. She wished she hadn’t run; she wished she could take it all back, but she could not. That was her decision and she had to live with it.
Chapter 7
Wallowing in regret there on the bridge, Sydney did not even notice that Michael had entered the clearing, even though his feet were making rather echoing crunching noises on the ground as he broke twigs in his path. He walked towards her and stood at the foot of the bridge, but still she did not look up. Finally, to call her attention, he said softly, “I thought I might find you here...”
She jumped slightly at the sudden noise and glanced over to him, surprised he was there. “Oh…my car…,” she sighed, realizing it was still parked out in front of his house.
“Yeah,” he said, walking two steps up the bridge, “I figured I’d either find you here or dead in the woods somewhere… I decided to be optimistic.”
Sydney laughed softly and looked towards the stream flowing beneath them. “You mean you weren’t optimistic that I was dead in the woods somewhere?” she asked dryly.
Taking two steps towards her, he made something very clear. “I would never, ever want you dead Sydney,” he told her seriously. She looked over to him cautiously. “And I’m sorry for what I said back at the house. I was being mean on purpose and I shouldn’t have been…”
She gave him a soft smile. “I guess we both have a lot to be sorry for,” she sighed. Then, looking down at her hands on the railing, she noticed something for the first time. “Hey…its not here,” she said with confusion, her fingertips rubbing across the wooden railing.
A decade earlier, Sydney and Michael had carved an emblem to them and their relationship in the wooden railing of that bridge. Since it was the location of their first kiss, they thought it was appropriate to carve, SB + MV forever into it so that the memory of their relationship would always be preserved no matter what happened later in their lives. Sydney remembered fondly the hour the spent with a screw drive and a hammer, etching the crooked letters into the railing. They never told anyone about it, either, mostly out of fear for being charged with vandalism. Now, looking down at the bare wood void of any sort of markings, Sydney couldn’t help but feel very sad.
“Nah, a storm a few years back totally destroyed this bridge; it had to be rebuilt,” Michael explained simply.
“Oh I see,” Sydney nodded. At first she thought that maybe Michael, in his anger, had removed it along with every other memory he had of them together. But, if the bridge was destroyed by a storm, then there was nothing any of them could do about it.
After silence hung between them for a few awkward minutes, Sydney turned to Michael and said sincerely, “I’m sorry I hurt you…left and didn’t call. I was stupid…”
“Yeah well that’s nothing new,” he teased lightly with a grin. She rolled her eyes and gave him a light shove. “Don’t worry about it; it’s in the past. C’mon back to the house and I’ll make you some dinner – I promise to be unarmed at all times.”
“Dinner?” her brow wrinkled. “But it’s only…,” she glanced down at her left wrist only to see that she had forgotten her watch that morning. When she arrived at Michael’s earlier it was barely after two o’clock; she was unsure how much time had passed as she stood on that bridge.
“It’s almost five o’clock,” Michael informed her.
“Oh,” she laughed softly, “I didn’t realize… yeah, dinner sounds nice. Thanks.”
“Of course. While we eat you can tell me about life in New York,” he said as they began the trek back to his house.
“Oh you mean where I have my Ebenezer Scrooge existence?” she asked. He blushed slightly and turned away, which caused Sydney to laugh inwardly.
For the remainder of their walk through the brush they did not speak. Michael did hold tree branches out of the way for Sydney to get by, though. This simple reminder of his gentlemanly qualities instilled by years and year of nagging on Amelia’s part made Sydney smile; she really had missed how they used to be when she lived in Hemlock Grove.
“You seriously did an amazing job on this house, Michael,” Sydney spoke when they walked out onto the gravel driveway facing the house. “I am very, very impressed.”
“You had that little faith in me?” he asked. His tone did not indicate hurt, though, for he was teasing her.
“No of course not!” she insisted. “I just didn’t expect…this. I thought you’d make it livable for yourself but this…it has flowers and fresh paint…,” she let her voice drift off as her words were once again consumed with amazement.
“Well I can’t take all the credit; Mom did the flowers,” he admitted. Then added, “but I water them!”
“I’m sure you do,” Sydney laughed softly. Then she followed Michael into their former abode and took notice that it was significantly cleaner than it had been a few hours earlier. Apparently, Michael used the time he was waiting for the repairman to arrive to straighten up the messes accumulating on the floor, coffee table, and pretty much every surface area of the home. “So do I get the fifty cent tour or what?” she questioned.
“Tour yourself; I’m starting dinner,” he said simply before disappearing back through the house. Sydney watched him go before she began walking around on her self-guided exploration. It appeared that in her absence, Michael had removed some of the walls in the home, opening it up to a more spacious living arrangement. The main room had once been two separate, smaller rooms. Sydney felt it looked much better the way Michael made it, though.
After wandering around Michael’s worn sofa and taking note that he had very few knick-knacks around, she made her way down the hall towards the two bedrooms the house had. The one, as she suspected, was completely empty aside from a few boxes randomly placed on the floor. The other was the room Michael used as his bedroom. It appeared he purchased a new wood frame bed that did not match at all with the beat-up dresser across from it, but Sydney knew full well that Michael did not care for such home décor trivialities; as long as it functioned he was happy.
“Looks like you got a pretty nice bachelor pad here,” Sydney said as she joined Michael in the kitchen.
He laughed under his breath. “Bachelor pad, right,” he rolled his eyes slightly before handing her a beer. “I throw wild parties every night, have tons of women here, orgies – you know, the unusual.”
“I’m sure,” she said before taking a long drink from the bottle in her hand.
“So…,” Michael said after a few minute long silence. “New York… is it what you expected it to be?”
“Not at all,” she said honestly. “It was much harder to get used to than I thought it would be. It’s so different… no one talks about you or gossips on the street about how terrible Henry Reid’s toupee is…”
“That must be tragic,” he said with obvious sarcasm. They both laughed. “But I’m sure there’s gossip around the office. You know, things like, ‘Oh my god, did you here how Sydney Bristow totally pulled a Monica Lewinski when she was under the boss’s desk and-’”
“Michael!” Sydney screeched, punching his arm rather hard. He whined and backed away from her. “That’s disgusting…although you do have a point – people did gossip about who was sleeping with who around the office.”
“Scandalous!” he mocked.
She rolled her eyes at him. “So what about here? Big changes goin’ on?”
“Oh yeah, tons,” he emphasized dramatically. “Haven’t you heard? We’re not the most popular hangout spot in northern Pennsylvania. Yep, we even got our own little dot on one of them fancy map things!”
“You must be proud,” she sighed.
“I am indeed,” he smiled.
“No, seriously – your dad…used cars… I never saw that one commin’. What gave you that idea?” she asked.
Michael turned away and said as evasively as possible, “What? No… what made you think I had somethin’ to do with it….”
“Uh, your dad,” she said in an ‘isn’t it obvious’ tone. “He told me it was all you.”
“Nah he’s just sayin’ that…,” Michael said, still avoiding her gaze. “It’s no big deal really… it was just something…”
“Sure,” Sydney said in a rather uncertain tone. She was positive Bill had not lied to her when he told her that it was all Michael’s idea. The only thing she could not understand was why Michael was so unwilling to take credit for his idea. The Michael she knew would have been glad to admit any idea was his, so long as it was successful, of course.
Sighing slightly, she sat down at the table centered in Michael’s kitchen; it certainly was going to be an interesting evening.
Chapter 8
“So, how long did it take you to finish the house?” Sydney asked as she reached in to the refrigerator to grab another beer. For some reason, being alone with Michael was making her extra thirsty. Of course, this was probably stemming from her nerves. Sure, so far they had been cordial, but she was just waiting for that polite barrier to snap and the claws to come out once more.
“Depends on what you mean by finish,” Michael responded.
“Um,” Sydney hesitated, not sure how to make ‘finish’ any more clear. “Finished? Like done? Complete? No more tools lying around?”
“Well I wasn’t sure if you meant done done, or livable done,” Michael said. Sydney shrugged, indicating that she did not care which meaning he choose to explain. “Well, I was living here by…March I guess – so just about six months. But as for completely one hundred percent done… probably another year. My dad was laid up so I had to put in extra hours at the shop and help my mom with stuff, so I didn’t have as much free time,” he explained.
“Laid up? With what?” Sydney asked.
“Broken leg and arm… yeah he didn’t have the car lift secured and it fell on him,” Michael said with a slight cringe. Sydney grimaced back at him. “Yeah, he was in pretty bad shape for a while.”
“I’ll bet…that’s terrible. I…I didn’t know what happened,” she said rather awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.
“Yeah, well, you weren’t here,” he said. Though he could have, he did not use a tone to purposely make Sydney feel guilty about her absence; he simply stated a fact. “Anyway, the house got done and… and I think it’s pretty good if I do say so myself. It’s at least livable.”
“You did a great job,” Sydney assured him.
“Well thanks,” he smiled softly.
As they waited for dinner to cook, they chatted pleasantly about various topics. Mostly, they alternated telling stories about their lives from their eight years apart. Michael told Sydney about some of the more interesting escapades that resulted from converting an auto repair shop to a used car dealership as well as the interesting and unique used car dealers they met while researching the endeavor. In turn, Sydney laughed her way through stories about the richer-than-God clients she had come in contact with, one of whom desperately wanted to invest his money wisely so he could double it and buy a gold plated toilet that, apparently, he had always wanted.
They continued to chat as they ate, but they were interrupted by Sydney’s father calling her to ask where she was. She informed him of her location and he laughed, warning her that he was not keen on bailing her out of jail that evening. To this, Sydney rolled her eyes and assured him that she and Michael were being perfectly civil; no one would end up in jail that evening.
“Oo who’s this?” Sydney asked as she made her way to the sink with her now empty dinner plate. She spotted the picture hanging on a bulletin board on the wall and went over to investigate. “She’s pretty,” she commented at the blonde Michael had his arms around. Both of them were grinning for the camera.
“Oh she’s no one,” Michael said quickly, yanking the picture off the wall and putting it face down on the desk.
“Michael you don’t have to lie to me. You can tell me the truth; what am I going to do – freak out and ask for a divorce?” she teased with a smile.
He rolled his eyes slightly. “Well she was just someone… we had a thing for a few months and then she went back to Philadelphia where she lives…”
“Why was she here at all?” Sydney asked.
“Her parents live here; they were sick,” he explained simply. Sydney nodded in understanding. “So what about you? Anyone special?”
Sydney snorted. “Uh, no; definitely not.”
“Sworn off men for good?” he asked.
“No,” she laughed softly. “Just… I dunno. I dated a few guys, but they were all too metrosexual for me. I need a guy with a bit of an edge.”
“Edge like… nose ring and motorcycle?” Michael questioned.
“Oh be still my beating heart,” Sydney teased as she fluttered her eyelashes; Michael laughed. “No like… a guy who doesn’t feel the need to get a manicure every week.”
“Ew,” Michael grimaced.
“Exactly! I like a guy who knows how to use his hammer – not in that way sicko!” she shouted at his wicked grin. “I’m serious!”
“I know what you mean – you want a manly man with a hammer and a shotgun who brings home dinner in the flat bed of his pickup truck and then chops it up with his hunting knife and cooks it over a fire he built himself,” Michael said.
“Uhhhh…. Not quite, but closer,” Sydney laughed. Really, in her mind she was picturing Michael, who could obviously use his hammer seeing as he practically built the house she was standing in, but also had enough romanticism in him to bring her a bouquet of flowers for no reason at all except that she was beautiful.
“Hey you know what you should do before it gets dark? Go check out the garden out back,” Michael nodded towards the door in the kitchen which led to the back yard.
“But the dishes…”
“I’ve got ‘em,” he smiled.
Sydney nodded before making her way out to the backyard. There, she found a large circular garden, containing a trio of bushes and dozens of flowers in between. She suspected that it had been doing professionally since it appeared far too perfect for Michael’s or even Amelia’s talents, but it was beautiful none the less. Off to one side of it stood a wooden bench swing that Sydney had never seen before. Judging by the fact that the wood appeared to be in very good condition, she guessed it to be only a year or two old. The top plank making up the swing appeared different than the others, but from a distance Sydney could not tell why. As she approached, she saw the wood clearly and gasped softly.
There, atop the swing, was the very railing containing the SB + MV forever carving. Sydney reached out her hand and touched it gently, utterly amazed. Not only had Michael salvaged this item from the wrecked bridge, but he had used it as the center peace for the beautiful swing in his back yard.
“Thought you’d like that,” he said softly from behind her.
Sydney turned around and shook her head in disbelieve. “You…kept it,” she said as more of a question as to why he had done so.
Michael nodded, and walked past her to sit on the swing. “Yep… they were good memories; I didn’t want them to be thrown away.”
“Did you make this?” Sydney asked as she sat down beside him.
“It’s supporting our weight, so what do you think?” he responded. Sydney laughed softly. “No I had a friend do it.”
“Well it’s amazing. All of this is amazing… you did a wonderful job Michael,” she smiled at him.
“I’m glad I have your approval,” he smiled back at her. Then he turned his eyes towards the carving of their names. He traced his thumbs against it very gently before smiling to himself. “Remember the day we did this?”
Sydney laughed. “Yeah…god we were crazy, huh? I mean whose idea what is to do this anyway?”
“Uh, yours,” Michael pointed out with a laugh.
“It was not!” she gasped.
“Was too,” he laughed. “Remember, you wanted to do it in a tree like they did in some movie and I said that’s stupid because a tree would grow and our letters would be grown over. Then you suggested something that couldn’t grow and we came up with the bridge.”
“Oh yeah,” she laughed softly. “We were still crazy though.”
“Nah we were just…in…love,” he said slower once he realize what words were coming out of his mouth. Both of them feeling the tension, they looked away from each other and out towards the circular garden before them.
“You know,” Sydney began after a minute of silent, “I’ll always…I’ll always love you Michael. No matter what happens, that’ll never change,” she said, venturing a guess to see his reaction. She saw that he was not looking scared or angry; he was smiling.
“Yeah, right back atcha kid,” he said. She laughed softly and shook her head at him. To seal their conversation, Michael leaned over and kissed her cheek gently. Instead of pulling back quickly, though, his face lingered against hers, his nose brushing against her cheek.
Feeling rather reckless or perhaps the affects of the two and a half beers she had at dinner, Sydney turned her head and kissed his lips briefly, just to see what it was like once more. Her one quick kiss was returned by a slightly longer one by Michael, which was followed by an even longer one until they were heavily making out there on that bench.
“Michael I…,” Sydney broke their kiss for a fleeting moment of logics to take over. That was quickly replaced by her increasing desire to kiss him once more and feel his hands on that sensitive spot on her neck once more; that spot that drove her absolutely insane. Her words were lost as he swept her into his arms and continued to kiss her while they stumbled their way back to the house.
Chapter 9
Hours later, Sydney awoke in a sleepy daze, unsure of what time it was. Glancing up at the illuminated clock beside her she saw that it was barely nine o’clock. That was far too early an hour to go to bed, which was ironic considering she had just woken up from an hour long nap. Then again, that nap was proceeded by some rather strenuous activity that warranted a rest.
She groaned slightly as she rolled over onto her back, debating whether she should get up or ask Michael for the remote to the TV across the bedroom from her comfy position. In doing this, she realized that the other half of the bed was empty. She sat up straight and began looking around the room. It was dark now that the sun had set, but she could see a faint light filtering down the hallway.
As she slid out of bed to go investigate the whereabouts of her husband, Sydney took the sheet with her, tucking it tightly around her body. She shuffled her way out into the hall, blinking rapidly at the contrast in lighting from the dark bedroom to the well lit sitting area. There, she saw Michael seated on the couch in his boxers and white t-shirt, his head resting on his chin, his elbow on his knee, staring blankly out into space.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Sydney asked softly.
“Nothing,” he sighed, glancing up at her only briefly. “Nothing I’m just…sitting.”
“Well why don’t you come to bed?” she suggested. “You can sit there.”
“No, I don’t think so…,” he sighed. “We…we shouldn’t have…we shouldn’t have,” he repeated, shaking his head.
“Why not?” she questioned. In her mind, dozens of different reasons why their previous actions were ill advised were swimming around in her head, but she wanted to know specifically what he was thinking about.
He looked over to her with an expression that said, “There are about a dozen things wrong with this situation, all of them screamingly obvious.”
“Well, it happened,” she said simply. “It happened and we can’t take it back now.”
“No, we can’t but…,” he sighed not completing his thought. Then, he stood off the couch, running his hands through his hair as he did so, and turned his back on her.
“You…you want me to go…,” she said, her words coming out as more of a factual statement than a question. “You don’t want me to stay… why don’t you want me to stay,” she said softly. Of course, her query was meant to stay inside her mind, but it slipped out by accident. While she knew what they had done was not the best decision, she was perfectly happy with having that night as just a wonderful night and worrying about the consequences in the morning. Apparently, Michael did not feel the same way.
When after a few minutes of silence Michael had not responded or turned back around to face him, Sydney rotated one hundred and eighty degrees and shuffled her way back to the bedroom. She shut the door behind her and began to sort through the pile of clothes on the floor to find the ones she had shed, all the while coaching herself not to cry. She just had to make it out the door and into the car; then, she could let the tears flow freely. When she emerged from the bedroom a minute later, Michael was blocking her path looking very serious.
“You think I don’t want you? You think I haven’t wanted you here these past eight years? You think I wasn’t just waiting for the day when you would come back and say you were sorry? I was,” he told her. “I was and… and just because you broke my heart I didn’t stop loving you. Sometimes, I hated myself because I still loved you, but I did love you… I love you enough to know that it was better you stayed away. You belong in New York, you don’t belong here with the stupid greasy mechanic,” he said in a rather defeated tone, lowering his eyes to the ground.
“Michael no,” Sydney choked out, her tears practically blinding her as she stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on his arm. He recoiled away from her. “No, Michael, no I never meant that. What I said…I’ve regretted it for eight and a half years. I was just mad and young and stupid but I did not mean that. You’re not stupid…or greasy,” she added.
“But I’m not good enough for you, Syd. I’m not good enough. You went to college. You have your fancy degree and I… I just work at a car dealership. Two people like that…they don’t get along – they wouldn’t get along. Sooner or later their differences would divide them.
“Our parents were right all along. We got married too young; we weren’t thinking about the long term. Sure, we had our stupid plan, but look how it turned out? We grew apart, which was inevitable I suppose,” he sighed sadly. As he paused his speech, he walked over to the coffee table where the brown envelope containing the divorce papers sat. He picked it up, pulled the tab open and slid the papers out.
“You belong with some fancy person in New York. Someone who can afford a nice penthouse and a luxury car to drive. You don’t need to be with the small town hick you dated during high school,” he said sadly as he picked up a pen and held it to the paper at the signature line.
“No! No!” Sydney shouted, rushing over to him and yanking the papers away. “How do you know what I need?! You don’t Michael, you don’t. Your job means nothing – it has nothing to do with what kid of person you are. Ten years ago I didn’t realize that, but now I do. I get it now. I get it! Wearing a high powered suit just means your paycheck has a few more zeros than everyone else’s. It doesn’t mean you’re a sweet person. It doesn’t mean you’re a kind person. It doesn’t mean you make me laugh or you build me a house with yellow siding and blue shutters just like I wanted,” she sniffed, tears now rolling down her cheeks at even intervals.
“I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry – God, you have no idea how sorry I am that I said those things and I stayed away so long…but you know why I did? You know why it took me eight years to come back here with those divorce papers? Because I didn’t want it to be over. I didn’t want it to end because I was scared of losing the one love I ever had; scared that I would never have one like it again. And you know what? I won’t. I know I won’t and… and now that I’m back here I don’t want it to end. I…don’t,” she said, tearing up the papers in her hands and letting the pieces fall to the floor.
“Sydney,” Michael said in a warning tone.
“I know, Michael, I know – its insane and I don’t really know what exactly I’m thinking right now except that I want to try us again. We worked once, didn’t we? We worked once so we might work again, right? I just want to try before we end it once and for all. I mean, don’t you? Don’t you want to try? If you don’t I’ll leave but if you do…,” she let her voice drift off on a hopeful note.
Michael sighed as he walked over to her and took her hands in his. “I…I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m not sure…I need some time to think about it.”
“Right, right of course,” Sydney nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll just, uh, leave you and-” she stopped when she tried to pull her hands out of his but he would not let her.
“No, you can stay,” he smiled softly. “Let’s just go to bed; we’ll talk about it more tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she agreed with a soft smile. Then, he led the way back to their bedroom.
Chapter 10
The next morning when Sydney awoke with Michael’s arm tucked around her waist, she had to remind herself that she was not eighteen years old; she was twenty-eight. It had been so long since she and Michael awoke that way, she needed to remind herself it wasn’t a dream. It was real and, hopefully, it was a new beginning for them.
Still waking up, Sydney breathed in deeply as she stretched out her limbs and rolled towards the center of the bed. There, she found Michael was watching her with a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” she whispered.
“I forgot how beautiful you are when you sleep,” he said softly. She smiled at him, blushing ever so slightly. He leaned over and kissed her forehead sweetly. “I’ve gotta get ready for work. You wanna meet for lunch at twelve thirty?”
Sydney nodded in agreement and then shut her eyes to try and fall back asleep as Michael slid out of bed and made his way to the shower. Of course, she was entirely unsuccessful in catching some more Zs, but that was alright; the view of Michael’s toned-just-the-right-amount body while he dressed was more than a worthy trade off. “Don’t forget to lock the front door when you leave,” Michael reminded her as he finished dressing.
“Since when do we lock our doors in this town?” she asked dully.
“Since a few years ago when some guy driving through the town stole a couple thousand dollars worth of stuff outta people’s houses,” he pointed out. “See you later.”
“Bye,” she yawned before rolling over onto her stomach and trying to fall back to sleep.
~*~
Later that morning, after Sydney finally forced herself from bed, dressed, and left Michael’s house, she arrived at her father’s only to find that he was sitting at the kitchen table sipping on some coffee. Apparently, he had the morning off. “Just getting in?” he questioned in a fatherly tone.
“Dad, I’m twenty-eight; you can’t use that tone with me,” Sydney sighed to him before making her way over to the half-full coffee pot.
“Can’t a father just ask where his daughter has been all night long?” he asked innocently.
“You can except you know exactly where I was,” she told him.
“You mean you were with Michael all this time?!” he gasped. Sydney gave him a look. “What?! How was I supposed to know where you were? You could have gone someplace else after eating dinner with Michael. Or, he could have tied you up and left you in a closet.”
“And why would he do that?” she raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well I have no idea,” Jack said, chuckling softly. Sydney laughed as well. “So…all night at Michael’s…”
“Dad, you’re reaching,” she groaned slightly. He continued his innocent stance. “Seriously, I have nothing to tell you. We’re… in limbo; all bets are off.”
“I see. Well you have a nice day; I’m off to work,” he said, getting up from his seat. He then kissed her forehead gently on his way out the door.
Sighing slightly, Sydney took a long drink from the cup in her hand. If her father was already pressing her for information she didn’t have to give, she did not even want to begin to imagine the reaction of the rest of the town.
By the time she cleaned up the kitchen, showered and dressed, it was nearly time to meet Michael for lunch. Sydney set off on a stroll through town to the used car dealership. As she walked, she had the peculiar feeling that eyes were watching her as she went It may have been just her paranoia, but if they were doing this she knew exactly the reason why; undoubtedly someone would have seen her car leaving Michael’s early that morning, a clear indication that she had spent the night. After their public fight, it was no secret in the two their feelings towards one another, at least during that time. Now that things had changed…well, everyone would be abuzz with gossip.
“Hey, you ready to go?” Sydney asked as she poked her head into Michael’s office, where he was seated at his desk scribbling down on a paper in his infamous barely-legible handwriting.
“Just a second,” he said, not looking up. He finished jotting down whatever he was writing before looking up to her with a smile. “Ready. Where do you want to eat?”
“How about that new place down the road?” she suggested. “Joe something or others…why are you making that face?” she questioned his grimace.
“Food’s nasty, like really nasty. It’s shocking they’re still in business,” he said.
“Oh…well then you pick; I don’t care,” she shrugged slightly. Michael nodded and led the way out of the office, ignoring the whispers coming from the people they passed on the way. He opened the passenger side door of his truck for Sydney and let her climb inside before shutting it and walking around to the driver’s side.
“So question – if you’ve got all these presumably nice used cars, why do you still drive this pickup truck?” Sydney asked.
“First, I happen to like my pickup truck. It allows me to haul things around – like you, for instance,” he smiled at her. She rolled her eyes. “Second, if my pickup is taken away that is the first step to letting go of my hometown hick edge and, if I recall correctly, you said yourself that you liked that edge.”
“Eh, yeah, but I could live without the pickup – how about a minivan instead?” she teased. Michael winced as though he had been physically injured by her comments and Sydney couldn’t help but laugh. “I was joking.”
“I hope so,” he said very seriously.
A minute later they pulled up at their destination: a sandwich shop directly across the street from the dinner. To Sydney, this was definitely a preferable option over the diner. Eating there would have resulted in the being hounded by so many questions they could not even eat their lunch. The sandwich shop was more of a carry-out place with very little seating, therefore at any given time they could only be cornered by one or two customers max.
After getting their sandwiches, they returned to Michael’s truck where they could eat in peace, even if everyone walking past them on the street did stare for an uncomfortably long amount of time. “So, uh, you maybe wanna go out to dinner tonight? Something nice,” Michael suggested.
Sydney gave him a rather impressed look. “Two dates in one day?”
“This isn’t a date; this is lunch,” he said simply.
“What about tonight?”
“That would be a date,” he laughed.
“Alright, I’ll be there,” she smiled at him.
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Chapters 11 - 15 + Epilogue