The Memoirs

Whitney had been awake for nearly eight hours now. He'd gotten up just like he usually would for school, before remembering that he wouldn't be going to school. He reached out for the phone, touched it once before he realized, he wouldn't be talking to his Chloe either. Frankie the rubber duckie was still sitting on the table beside the bed, and Whitney squeaked him once before climbing into the shower.

Then, silent breakfast with his mother, and he did the dishes without comment, drying everything in the drainer, stacking it neatly in the cabinet. After breakfast, he changed out of shorts and into jeans and boots, then went out into the back yard. There were fallen limbs, rotting leaves and broken branches, tons of debris from the blizzard and the hard winter and he threw himself into cleaning it up.

He hauled wood until his shoulders ached and his muscles burned. He took his father's axe out of the garage and started breaking up the bigger pieces, stacking them to the side until he could get his hands on a chipper from the store, or from the rental place. Sweat ran as he worked without a word, no music in the back yard, rake leaning against the fence and waiting for him as soon as he was finished cutting.

As long as he sweat, nobody could tell he was crying.

And that's just where he was when Lorry returned home. Dark was falling, dusk lighting the sky with a hundred colors, and the scent of encroaching rain heavy in the air. It would be here before the weekend was over, she'd known the moment she'd locked up at the store.

She'd driven home in the old 87 Toyota Camry her husband had bought the year he'd opened the hardware store. Elton John's Kiss The Bride had been playing on the oldies rock station, and it had brought a teary smile to her lips. She and her husband had danced to the song at their wedding, so long ago, and it only made her think about all the times she'd danced to it with him in their living room, John sitting on her husbands shoulder... and in later years, wrapped around his waist like a burr.

So if she cried a little before she came into the house, it was her business.

What she didn't expect, however, was not to find her little boy. She had dried her tears, snuffled her sniffles, and had heard the ax falling, over and over, a moment later. She turned into the dining room, and let her gaze travel outside, to where her little boy had… cleaned the entire backyard in the time since she'd left that morning. They'd both been ignoring it, as it had been her husbands favorite thing to do, and the three apple trees weren't swamped with weeds... the flower bed she'd once loved so dearly carefully cleaned away. She opened the screen door and carefully stepped out onto the beautiful wooden porch Jack and her son had built themselves two summers before, as a birthday present to her. "John?"

"I'm out here, Mom." Whitney stuck his hand out from under the porch and waved. "There's some loose boards under here that I'm replacing; watch your step."

"John, what.." She stared, plaintively, at the crisp, clean backyard, and simply shook her head. She stepped around the boards that had been lose for a year and wrapped her sweater a little easier around her, crossing her arms across her breasts. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the porch." His voice was muffled as he was still under it. "Then the swing is next; I'm going to have to go to the store and get new bolts and new chain, and one of the boards has warped. And we're out of waterproofing seal; I've done most of the deck, but I'll have to get a new can tomorrow and finish up out back. Then I'll move to the front."

"John... you didn't have to do this, sweetheart." She came down the ten steps leading to the backyard itself, and peeked under the porch, stepping up beside him. His shirt was sweated through, lips cracked, and she gently touched his hand. "John, son. You didn't have to do this."

He flinched. "I had to do something. I couldn't just sit around all day and do nothing. Which reminds me, tomorrow? Before you go to work, I'm going to need you to take me over to the rental place, cause I need a chipper. If I get the stuff chipped fine enough, I can bag it up and sell it at the Farmer's Market cheap."

"John." The flinch had her hand coming back, to hold closely to her heart. "Son, you don't need to do any of this. Its too soon, baby. You don't have to do this, if you don't want to." She reached out, then, and turned his chin towards her. "You're my son. I know what you're doing."

"I do wanna do it, Mom. I should have been doing it all along instead of letting it pile up."

She just… she sighed, softly. "Nights falling. Finish what you're doing and come in to clean up, okay? I'll get dinner ready while you do so."

"I'll be in in a few." Whitney slid himself back under the porch, and until he could get back out here in the morning, he just braced the unsteady planks carefully. Deep breath of muddy-scented air, and he pushed back out again, pulling himself to his feet. His shirt and the back of his jeans were covered in mud, but he'd anticipated that. He stripped off the dirty clothes and left them folded over the porch rail, and changed into shorts and a clean undershirt, leaving muddy boots by the door so nothing was tracked in the house. "I'm here, Mom."

She glanced up at her sweaty, exhausted son as she filled the pot for noodles, and nodded towards the steps. "Go shower, son. I'll leave this to boil while I get into house clothes."

"I'll watch it, Mom. Go ahead and shower; I think I can handle cooking noodles." He gave his own nod. "I can shower when you're done."

"I'll wait until after supper, sweetheart. On, with you." A moment, as she looked down at the pot, and her lips...they twitched. Just a little. "Mr. Sullivan and Chloe are going to come over to eat with us, I hope you don't mind."

His head shot up. "No, I don't mind. Not at all." He tried his hardest not to show how excited his was, but his eyes just shone brightly.

Lorry's lips spread and the young girl she'd once been came out in her smile, as she motioned towards the steps. "They'll be here at six thirty. Its nearing five and a quarter now, so you'd better hurry."

"I'll be right down." Whitney leaned over the table and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Thank you." He pounded up the stairs in a hurry, slamming the door to the bathroom and barely restraining a loud whoop. Instead, he jumped in the shower, scrubbing everything he owned clean, under his nails down to the bottoms of his feet, washed his hair thoroughly, and was grinning to himself when he got out.

He appeared downstairs, twenty minutes later, washed, combed, and dressed up in the nicest shirt and trousers he owned.

She had just added the sour cream and butter to the stroganoff pasta she was making when she caught a whiff of her husbands cologne. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned, glancing over her shoulder and looking...at her son. Who looked so much like his papa in that moment, his light blond hair combed perfectly, wearing the clothes that always looked just a little too baggy on his slender, strong frame, and her smile was just a little teary as she offered him the spoon. "Come take this? I'm going to go clean up myself, get out of these wrinkled clothes."

"Got it, Mom. Go on, get cleaned up." Whitney took the spoon and a potholder, carefully stirring the noodles as he stood in front of the stove, picking up a dishtowel and throwing it over his shoulder. "I promise, I can handle the noodles." A little grin. "I left a lot of hot water for you, don't worry."

A little smile back, and she reached up to press a kiss to his cheek as she started up the steps. She was bone weary but was up for this, for her son. And seeing Gabe was always the highlight of her day, as she rubbed her fingers through her hair as she entered her bedroom. It was picked up but not neat, and she straightened a few things as she passed before sitting at the bedside. Picked up her bedside phone and dialed Gabe's number from memory, as she got to her feet and opened her closet. Something casual, comfortable, but feminine. Christ.

Gabe picked up the phone on the third ring. "Sullivan residence."

"Don't you just hate telemarketers?" She began, as she pulled down a pink sweater and began to hunt down her light blue jeans. "I was making dinner and got four calls. So I thought, why not call Gabe? At least its intelligent conversation and not monotone eighteen year olds."

"Hey, Lorry." That brought a smile to his face. "Just four calls? On a good day, we get about eight or ten, and usually by then Chloe's fed up and starts getting creative in telling them where to stick their telephones."

She chuckled at that, as she found her jeans and laid them on her bed, as well. "Are we still on for six thirty, sweetie?"

Soft sigh at her words. "If you're still sure this is a great idea," he said back. "I haven't told Chloe yet."

"I sure do, sweetheart." She said it softly, as she unbuttoned her blouse, phone tucked between chin and shoulder. "I think we need to talk."

"Did Whitney do something today? Is that what this is about?" He covered the mouthpiece of the phone as he raised his voice. "Chloe? Sweetie, you might want to take a shower, we're going out to dinner!" he called, and then turned back to the phone. "I'm still not sure this is a swell idea, but I trust you, Lorry."

"I had a lot of time to think about our kids, Gabe. I think...we need to see them together, in action. Jack and I had a lot of problems with our parents when we first began to date... I don't want our children to go through what we did, and hate us at the end."

"Lorry? I think we know enough about our kids'... action, to last us a lifetime, don't you think?"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

Gabe sighed. "Yeah, I know it, and you know what I mean." But he sighed. "We'll be over there."

"Perfect." She chirped it, cheerfully, and hung up.

Their was nothing better to listen to when one had the blues than Whitney Houston. And yeah, so maybe Chloe had been crying into her pillow when her dad called her. Get ready to go out. She didn't want to go out. Her face was a mess from all the crying she'd done today, eyes puffy and skin bloated, nose red, and she was just... not. So she didn't move when he yelled, just turning her face from the door and turning the page in her book.

Gabe listened to the quiet, realized that Chloe wasn't getting ready, and sighed. He got up from the bed and walked down the hall, knocking on the door. "Chloe?"

"Yeah." Nothing further than that, just tucking the blanket up higher on her shoulder.

"Come on, sweetie. We're going out to dinner."

"I dond wand do." She said amidst her stuffed nose, rolling over and sitting up as she pushed a tissue up her left nostril...and left it their. Couldn't fucking breathe. "Ged oud."

"I'll tell Lorry that you didn't feel like going then," he said quietly.

A loud, loud thud as she fell off the bed, flew to her feet, and tiny pounding feet rushed to the door. She threw it open and stared at him with the tissue still lodged in her nose, staring at him. "Whad?"

"We're going to dinner at Lorry's house, but if you don't feel like going, I'll call her back and give her your apologies."

Her eyes widened. a lot. And she tugged the tissue out of her nose. "When?"

"Six thirty tonight. That's why I yelled for you to get ready, cause you've only got... about twenty minutes before we leave to take a shower and change clothes."

She just stared at him for a long moment, to make sure he wasn't lying to her. And when he didn't move, she just nodded, suspicion sliding into her face as she regarded him. Her dad didn't want her with Whitney… but they were going to his house? "What's this about?"

"Lorry wants to see you two together. She didn't come out and say it, but I guessing that Whitney had kind of a rough day... not unlike someone else I know." He relented then. "There's nothing ulterior here."

She nodded, slightly. She hated his guts, and she wasn't past letting him know it. Her expression was dark, a little cold, and she nodded. "Alright. I'll be ready."

"Good. I'll be waiting downstairs for you." He closed the door to her room, and went slowly down the stairs.

He still wasn't quite over her hating him, but he couldn't let her see that it was bothering him like this. He was the dad; it wasn't supposed to bother him.

Only it did.

As soon as she heard him going down the steps she stripped where she stood, through the lock on her door, and all but flew to her bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, on the dot, she was ready. Deep blue jeans, and a Old Navy white t-shirt that had a scooped neck and baby blue designs on the front. She swept her short hair into a small clip to the side, leaving it straight, and slipped on her earrings and watch. She pushed on her tennis shoes, tugged on a gray zip down hoodie, and pounded down the steps. Her room was a mess but she had firmly closed it behind her, ignoring the house. She'd not left her room all day, made do with her stash of Doritos under her bed, and she didn't bother looking now as she stood by the door, waiting for her father.

Gabe sighed as he picked up his keys from the table, looked at them, and held them out to his daughter. "You want to drive?"

She just shook her head, ignoring them as she looked off to the side at nothing.

Gabe pushed the door opened. "Let's go then."

She stepped out into the night ahead of him, tugging her sweater around her a little more as she stood carefully on the front stoop, waiting for him. Their old clunker sat waiting for them, and she just tucked her arms under her breasts to keep herself warm. She was ecstatic, but she sure as hell was not going to show it. She was about to see her lover, and her fingers all but tingled with her joy.

Gabe locked the door to the house, unlocked the car doors, and held the door open for his daughter. "Chloe... I know you're angry at me, but can you be civil to Whitney's mother?"

She turned back and said, without a hitch, "As much as you might think so, I'm not a barbarian and just because I have sex doesn't mean I've lost my manners and turned into a two dollar street hussy." And she turned, climbing into the car and crossing her arms.

"All right, Missy, I've had just about enough of this." Gabe slammed the car door. "You either start treating me with the respect that as your father, I've earned, or you can get your butt out of the car this instant."

"Or what? You'll ground me? Move me away from the people I love? Forbid me from leaving my bedroom? Haven't got much to lose." She said very calmly back.

"Or you'll not see Whitney again. Ever." Very calmly said back in return. "Or at least, until you're old enough to go out on your own, earn your own money, and hold your own house. Because if you don't start treating me with the respect that I've earned, I'll start treating you like the spoiled little brat you're acting like."

"I can't believe you even have the nerve to tell me I'm acting like a spoiled brat. How else would you like me to act? Nod meekly and listen to everything you say? As it is? Pretty sure I won't see him again after tonight. So you know what, dad? Take all of your righteousness and shove it. You can't threaten me, you've already made very sure that what was left of my life is gone. I've got nothing left to lose, and I'm not going to lose my self respect and nod and smile to something I know in my heart is wrong."

Gabe calmly turned the ignition off. "Out of the car, missy. I tried. I tried to do it Lorry's way, I tried to be nice to you and not say anything about you seeing Whitney tonight, and all you can do is backtalk me and smart off to me. Get in the house. Now."

"What else do you want me to do?" She cried, turning to face him. "What else do I have?! If I go see him tonight its to break up with him! If I were smarting off you'd have already hit me. You're taking me to Gotham, how much else more clear do you want things?"

"You're not going to Gotham, you little brat. Lionel told me today that Mr. Wayne doesn't want anyone going with him. Now get out of my car, and get back in the house. I don't want to hit you, Chloe, but I will if you don't shut up and get out. Now."

"Then why did you let me cry all day?! WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO ME?" She half screamed it, voice at… very high decibels as she cried all over again. "Why did you make me feel all these horrible things?!"

"BECAUSE EVERY TIME I TRIED TO TALK TO YOU YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO ME!" Gabe bellowed back. "YOU IGNORED ME ALL FUCKING DAY!" He drew in a sharp breath. "You've been going out of your way to hurt me, Chloe, and I saw no reason to have more contact with you than was absolutely necessary."

"I HATE YOU!" She screamed it right back at him. "I hate you, I HATE YOU! You don't give a SHIT about me, you think IM TURNING INTO MOM! I ignored you because you RUINED MY LIFE!"

Gabe did something he hadn't done since Chloe was eleven.

He slapped her.

"Get out of my car."

The sting of it was worse on her pride then her face, and she threw the car door open, slamming it shut as hard as she possibly could. She hated him, as much as one person could hate another, for turning her life into a nightmare in a days worth of time. She knew she was being irrational but she didn't care. Period.

Gabe opened the glove compartment and took out his cell phone. He slowly dialed Lorraine's number with a shaking hand, and breathed in and out slowly.

Whitney was just taking the noodles off the heat when the phone rang. "I'll get it!" he yelled upstairs, to his mother in the shower. He picked up after four rings. "Hello?"

Gabe gritted his teeth. "Let me speak to your mother."

"She's in the shower, sir." Whitney swallowed hard, spine straightening even though Gabe wasn't even in the room.

"Then fucking well go and get her out," he snarled.

"Yes, sir." Whitney swallowed again, and hurried up the stairs, pounding hard on the closed door to his mother's bedroom. "Mom? Mr. Sullivan's on the phone, he sounds urgent!!"

Lorry looked up from her soap bubbles and quickly rinsed off, wrapping her thick terrycloth robe about her as she stepped out. She wrapped it up tightly, pushing her hair into a towel, and opened the door to her son, taking the phone and motioning him back downstairs. "Gabe? What is it, sweetheart?"

"Chloe and I aren't going to be coming to dinner after all," Gabe said softly, leaning his head back against the headrest, and raised his hand to look at the slight red mark from where it had impacted his daughter's face.

Chloe just… sat herself on the stoop of the house and set her head in her arms, closing her eyes as she cried. She'd tried, God knew she had, but he treated her like she was ten years old. He treated her like she was brainless, and she wasn't brainless. She wasn't dumb, she wasn't stupid, she was smart, and everything he'd said to her had hurt. The sting from the slap burned her cheeks and made the tears fall harder, as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Oh, no. Is everything alright? I know you've been having trouble with the car..." Lorry knew it wasn't car trouble as soon as she'd called, and she sighed softly as she sat at the edge of her bed.

"Oh, I only wish it was the car. Chloe threw a bit of a tantrum tonight, and I threw one right back at her."

A soft sigh. "What happened, sweetie?"

"She yelled at me, I took it just as long as I could, and then I hit her and told her to get out of the car and go back in the house." Harsh exhalation. "I haven't been angry enough to hit her since she was eleven, Lorry."

"You know, when we first started going to the meetings together, I never, in a million years, would have thought Chloe would have been harder than Whitney." She said softly, as she pushed a droplet of water off her forehead. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. Go talk to her. If you both want to still come later, that's fine, too. If not... we can do it another day."

"If I talk to that girl of mine again, I'm going to end up throwing her out on the street. I've never been this angry with her before. Ever." He closed his eyes, and didn't look in the rearview mirror at his little girl crying on the steps.

"Oh, sweetheart. Well... let it calm down a little bit. It might be that you both are working from the same place, only at different angles... if that makes sense. Talk to her, explain to her why you're angry. She'll do the same to you... remember, what Dr. Bryce was saying."

"What does she know, she drop-kicked an orderly."

"She might have, but she's got a degree in child psychology, and she knows what she's saying, sweetie." Lorry wanted so badly to hug him, and sighed instead, softly. "Call me again. I'll be up late, I've got some work and email to catch up on."

Whitney had gone downstairs, but he'd picked up the kitchen extension to listen in on. When he heard that Gabe had hit Chloe, he very calmly hung up the phone, and went up the stairs, pounding on his mother's door.

"Hold on a moment, sweetie." She cupped the ear piece. "I'm on the phone, John!"

"I don't care if he's her father, if he lays another hand on her, I'm going to rip him to pieces!" Whitney bellowed through the closed door. "I'm going to get her. And if he wants to try and stop me, I'll beat him and see how he likes it!!"

"JOHN!" She thundered it, hanging the phone up as she climbed to her feet. She rarely screamed... hadn't for many, many years, but this boy drove her to distraction when he had the chance. Her towel fell from her hair, her cheeks flushed with fury, and she threw open the door. "Go to your bedroom. NOW. I don't care if YOU are my son--you do NOT listen in on my personal phone conversations, you do NOT do what I don't allow you to do, and you WILL not get in the way of this, are we perfectly understood and clear?"

"No, Mom! I'm not going to let him hit her!" He stood his ground. "I'm sorry I listened in, but when I heard him, I thought I might get to talk to Chloe, or at least hear her in the background! I'm sorry that I listened in, but I'm not going to let him mistreat her like that!"

"He's not mistreating her, dammit, its her father and he'll do what he feels is best for her." She glared at him. "You will not get in the way of this, or he's never going to let you see her again, and neither am I. So stop. Go, sit downstairs, and LET ME resolve this. Clear?"

"He is mistreating her. Chloe doesn't deserve to be hit. Nobody does, I don't care what they did." His knuckles were white on the door frame. "Don't ask me to not protect her."

"I'm asking you to stay out of it. You are too young still to see when there are delicate situations, John Whitney Fordman, and I will not have you getting in the middle of this." Another glare at her dearest son, as she pointed towards the stairs. "Go. I'm going to call him back, and if you ever come up here screaming like the house is on fire again, I'll wear your behind red myself, little man."

"Fine. But if you don't talk some sense into him, let me go and get her?" he pled. "I'll take her to Lex's. She can stay with Shayla. I won't even bring her back here."

Lorry didn't even say a word, just pointing to the stairs.

"I won't let him hurt her again," was the last thing he said, and he went back downstairs.

He picked his keys up from the table, and stuffed them in his pants pocket, waiting to hear the result of his mother's phone call.

She watched him go, glaring at her son all the way, and took a deep, relaxing breath. Her hands were shaking like leaves, and she pressed them close to her heart for a good long moment, gazing a the ceiling with the door at her back. "Oh, Jack. Why did you leave me with this?" She sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting at the edge and simply hitting redial, her throat bobbing softly as she waited.

Gabe hadn't moved from the car when he answered the cell phone. "If that boy of yours comes over here, I'll run him over. Nothing personal, Lorry." Didn't even bother with a hello

"You'll do no such thing, and you know it." She had to lay down, as she was shaking too badly, and she leaned back into her pillows, taking a soft breath.

"Of course not, but it's a nice image to contemplate."

"Gabe!"

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry." A pause. "I take it he was eavesdropping?"

"Was. I gave him a lecture he won't soon forget." A beat. "I'm shaking like a leaf."

"I've got an idea. Call me radical. Leave the kids at home, go out, get drunk, and hop a plane to Acapulco. Hear the beach is lovely this time of year."

"I've had a two piece waiting for ten years." She said without a beat, and laughed a little as she pressed her hand to her forehead. "Gabe, what are we going to do?"

"Leave the kids at home, go out, get drunk, and hop a plane to Acapulco."

She laughed again. Couldn't help it. "I mean aside from that."

"Well... I'm going to send mine to a monastery. Or a nunnery, if there's any still around these parts." Gabe sighed. "Because I'm beyond talking to her right now."

"You're her dad, Gabe." She said it, softly. "You're never beyond talking to her. So go do it, make up, and come eat the five gallons of pasta I made."

"Lorry... if I talk to her one more time tonight, she's going to mouth off to me, I'm going to slap her again, and it's not going to be pretty from there on out. Because I don't like hitting my little girl. But I also won't be mouthed off to." He sighed. "I never thought I'd say this, but I wish Chloe were handling this the way Whitney seems to be."

"Whitney's being very internal about it." She said it, very softly. "Ever since Jack died, he's been like that. It used to be that he'd tell us everything, mouth off, though he's always been a very good kid, just like Chloe. But since the funeral, he's been...a model child. Quiet, good, good grades, good temperament. He's never once raised his voice or talked back until Chloe came in the picture... and that's how I know he loves her. And if she's anything like you, then she loves him right back."

"I tried. I tried to get her in the car to come over to dinner tonight, but she wouldn't shut up, Lorry. Every word out of her mouth was mean, antagonistic, and I'm sorry I hit her, but good God, I'm not a saint." His hand clenched around the steering wheel.

"Mixed signals, Gabe. Dr. Bryce taught us this... you've got to go in and see what the real problem is. She said that when kids are confronted with problems, they don't know how to deal with them, and lash out in any way possible."

"She hates me for ruining her life. I'm assuming that means, grounding her, keeping her away from Whitney, and trying to move. Which, by the way, fell through."

"Maybe she's angry for something else." Lorry said it softly. "Go talk to her. I'll be here, call me."

"If I send her to your house tonight, you'll know why." He hung up, rolled down the window, and tilted his head out. "Chloe? Come get in the car."

She didn't hear him, because she was sniffling too hard and looking for a tissue in her little shoulder purse. She took one out and blew into it, hard, letting out tiny sobs all the while, and rubbed her face with her sleeve.

"CHLOE!" he shouted. "Now!!"

She jumped, nearly fell off the step, and looked up. She was done screaming back, so she just got back to her feet in anger, walking back over, throwing the door open, and slamming it behind her. "Don't. Scream. At me. Anymore."

"Then I expect you to answer me when I call you and speak civilly to me."

"You didn't call me." She shot back, still rubbing her tissue over her nose and refusing to look at him.

"Yes, actually, I did. I calmly rolled down the window, leaned my head out, called your name, and asked for you to come and get in the car. You ignored me."

"Maybe you shouldn't think the worst of people, has anyone ever told you that?" She pushed her tissue into her pocket and crossed her arms loosely across her chest, looking at the dash board.

"Maybe I wouldn't if I hadn't been given good reason to."

"We can't forget that I'm a slut, a spoiled brat, and Mom."

Deep breath. "Chloe, do you want me to slap you again?"

"You did it once, doing it again won't hurt anymore."

"I was an idiot to listen to Lorraine. Apparently you're determined to be a little ass about things tonight. That's fine. Get out. I'm going to Lorraine's to have dinner tonight."

"That's all I am to you. You don't even care." She just shook her head as her chin trembled, and opened the car door again. "I'll be in my r-room." She let the door shut and went into her purse for her house key, digging through it until she reached the little chain at the bottom, and climbed the porch steps all the way again.

Deep breath. Counting to ten. Cranking the car. Pulling out of the driveway.

One circle around the block, counting to ten every step of the way.

And Chloe curled up on her bed, as soon as she climbed the steps. Tore off the earrings, the hairclips, the little angel chain around her neck. Pushed her shoes off and scrubbed her face clean of makeup, before falling onto her rustled sheets. She could feel Clark raging in her heart and knew he was as angry over this as she was, but she also felt Lex, much stronger, and felt his understanding.

She rolled over, facing the dark window that led to the tree outside her bedroom, and didn't even have the energy for tears anymore. Just stared at the glass, carefully tucking her stuffed puppy doll to her chest. She'd been a smart mouth, but she couldn't help it. At all.

After his drive, Gabe got out, walked up driveway, and unlocked the front door. He locked it behind himself, went to the liquor cabinet, unlocked it, poured a very, very large shot of whisky, and drained it in a single shot. He locked that back up, took a deep breath, and climbed the stairs.

Sometimes, being a single parent sucked ass hair.

He knocked on Chloe's door very calmly.

She didn't even bother saying anything. The door was open, just shut as much as it could be without closing, and she stared at the glass, pressing her pillow under her head. Her fingers viced in the pillow, tightly, her body loose while her teeth gritted. "I thought you were going to go eat dinner."

"If you thought I was serious about leaving you behind, then you don't know me very well," Gabe answered, coming into the room. "Because no matter how mad you make me, I wouldn't leave you to starve."

"There's food in the house. I'm not incompetent."

"Did I say you were?"

"You insinuated it. You do it a lot."

"And you flat-out say things to hurt me. I'd say we're both even on that score, wouldn't you?"

She didnt say anything, just tucking the little dog closer to her chest and pressed her cheek down into the fluffy head as she looked outside, watching the rain begin to come down.

And stared, for a long moment. Her thoughts were very quick, adding everything together, piecing what she'd seen, all of the little files and folders of her head coming together until... "Clark can control the weather." She whispered it to herself, and sat up, as she felt his anger, and watched the lightening streak the sky.

"What did you say, Chloe?" Gabe didn't hear her, just saw her sit up and take notice of the angry thunderstorm outside.

A moment. Her father was still here. She looked away from the raging storm and looked to the side… shaking her head and setting the dog in her lap. "Nothing."

Gabe sighed. Tried another tactic. "You want to tell me what's really bothering you?"

"Do you even care?" She shot back, looking down at the pound puppy in her lap.

"Would I be putting up with this crap if I didn't?"

"You'd be asleep on the couch in front of a basketball game."

"Exactly. And yet, here I am, trying to wade through the verbal abuse you're slinging at me to try and find out what the problem is."

"The real problem? Do you want to know?" She turned then, and looked at him for the first time that night, straight in the eye. "You called me a slut, you think I'm a slut, because of what happened. That you would think that of me, Chloe, who's done everything to make you proud and happy, and this one time I fall, and you call me a slut, you compare me with Mom. I'm not Mom."

Gabe sighed. "You know something, Chloe? This did upset me. And this did disappoint me. And yes, for a few minutes there, I did wonder. But do you want to hear something? You couldn't have upset me and disappoint me, if I weren't proud of you, and if I didn't love you so much. You ever think of that?"

"Of course I thought of that, I'm not a stupid bimbo airhead." She cried it back. "I'm not incompetent, I'm not stupid, and I can think. And the fact that you had to wonder, you had to think that I'd ever be some sort of slut, says more than any words could."

Gritting teeth. "No. You're not a stupid airhead. You are a seventeen year old girl, who has the unfortunate tendency to let her mouth run off with her at the worst times, like when her father is trying to talk to her." Another deep breath. "If I didn't think you having sex was a bad thing, then I wouldn't be a father."

"I know what I did is wrong. I know what I do is wrong. But having my own dad wonder if I'm a slut or not hurt me. Do you understand that? You treat me like I'm stupid all the time." She didn't know how else to explain it, as she turned back around, legs falling off the side of the bed.

Gabe felt a pounding behind his eye and wondered vaguely what an aneurysm felt like. "Chloe, you're not stupid. You have one of the most brilliant minds I've ever seen. What you do have is impulse control problems. You see something, you do it, and you don't think about the consequences. And then when someone calls you on them, they're being mean to you, or treating you like you're stupid. Sweetie... if you know it's wrong, don't do it. And don't get mad at me for having to punish you for something you know wasn't right."

"Its not wrong. Being with Whitney is not wrong. In fact, everything about it is right. Everything. And you know, maybe I do have impulse control problems, but I got them from you. You don't even know what's going on in my life… I can't remember the last time you asked me. I'm seeing Whitney. I trust him, and I love him, and no one is going to take him away from me, not even you." She didn't even look at him, as she watched the torrential rains falling. "Maybe I have a quick mouth, but everything out of it is the truth."

"I can remember a time I didn't have to ask, Chloe. And it wasn't that long ago, either." He sighed. "I can remember a time when you wanted to talk to your dad about what was going on in your life. Every day you were bursting to tell me what happened, who was cheating on who, who was dating who, what the next big break in the Torch was. And suddenly, one day, my daughter doesn't want to talk to me anymore. I guess Dad's not cool enough anymore. So I didn't pry. I figured that if you wanted me to be a part of your life, you'd let me know."

"Since the baby died." She said softly.

He shook his head. "I don't know about that. I just know that one day... you stopped talking to me, Chloe. And I never knew what to think after that."

She looked up at him. "One of my friends had a baby. But it died. I was there when it did, I saw the blood. It happened at home, and there was just… so much. Whitney and I, we didn't know what to do. My friend... cried. So much. Broken soul. That's when everything changed. Everything, in every aspect, changed."

Gabe was quiet. "It wasn't you, was it, Chloe? I have to ask."

She shook her head. "It wasn't me."

"And I believe you." He was quiet. "Is this why you're angry at me, Chloe? Because I didn't chase you down then and ask you what was wrong?"

"I'm not just angry at you, dad, as much as you think its just you." She just shook her head again, and lay back down, watching the sky light with lightening. "That baby shouldn't have died. His parents loved him so much, even before they knew he was going to be born."

Gabe stared out the window, but instead of watching the storm he was watching his daughter's reflection. "No baby should have to die," was the only thing he could offer.

"No baby should have died that came from them." She corrected instead. The fight was gone, her tears were died, and she just pressed the dog closer to her chest, closing her eyes.

"Who was it?" Gabe asked softly. "Shayla?"

She just shook her head softly, as she watched her father's back without emotion. She wanted… to roll over, and make everything, everything, go away. "I can't tell you."

"Okay. I respect that." He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

For what it was worth, she didn't flinch. But she didn't move, either, just staring at her stuffed dog, as the rain poured outside.

He sighed. "You want to try dinner again?" he asked softly.

"If you're going to yell, no." She said into her dog, turning her face the other way and sniffling softly.

Pause as he counted to ten. "I won't yell if you don't smart mouth me like you did before. Deal?"

Hard sniffle, as she thought it over for a long moment. She could keep her mouth shut until she saw Whitney. She could. As in… not say a word. "Alright."

"I won't even complain if you want to sit next to Whitney at the table." He got up from the bed. "Come on?"

She nodded and sat up, rubbing a hand over her face... her chest. "I'm going to change." She had to. Couldn't go looking the way she did.

"The green dress always makes you look pretty," Gabe said softly. "Brings out how bright your eyes are."

She shrugged a shoulder gruffly, and without looking at him climbed to her feet and went into the bathroom. Running water sounded a moment later as she waited for it to warm, and went into the closet off the bathroom, looking at her clothes. She didn't want to wear the stupid green dress, but as she looked at it, and the other clothes she had hanging to be worn, it was the best.

FUCK.

It took her ten minutes this time, to get her hair swept up, and the dress on. Slinky heels, tall ones but not too dressed up, and a soft light green sweater over it. She put on the necklace Whitney had given her ages ago, her rings, and the drop earrings, before she left the bedroom and went downstairs where she could hear her father.

Gabe was making coffee. Irish coffee. And the keys to the car were sitting on the table. "You want to drive, Chloe?"

"No." She shook her head, and the smell of liquor reminded her acutely of the night of Clark's party, and how much fun they'd had. Ever telling her dad? No. She gathered her little purse close and pressed it to her chest, waiting by the kitchen door and not looking up. If she didn't open her mouth, she'd get to see Whitney. Okay. Check.

"Chloe... you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not... I'm not some ogre." He downed the coffee in a single gulp. "I'm still your father."

Didn't. Say. A word. Just pressed her lips together and fought to chew on the soft red lipstick, just tucking her purse closer and turning from the door, to wait for him by the front door.

Hard sigh, and Gabe picked the keys up from the table. "You can call Lorry on the way and let her know we're coming; the phone's still in the car, okay?" He held the door open once again, and prayed to whatever Deities were listening that this trip went a little more smoothly than the last.

She opened the umbrella and stepped out on the porch, waiting for him and staying quiet as she nodded simply, looking up as the thunder rolled.

Gabe quietly walked out to the car, ignoring the rain, and unlocked the door. He slid behind the driver's seat, then flicked on the headlights and the wipers, and made sure that the passenger side was unlocked, and he put the telephone on the dashboard.

She took it from him as soon as she slid in beside him, and set it in her lap as she put her seat belt on. Picked the phone up and dialed, setting it beside her ear as she looked down and ignored the left side of the car.

Whitney barely let the phone get through a full ring before he snatched it. "Hello?"

His voice...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! She just barely kept that vocalization quiet, though, as she said softly, "Hi, there."

"Chloe!!" His breath choked off in his throat. "Are you okay?"

Her throat filled with tears as she nodded… knowing he couldn't hear her as she spoke. "Yes, I'm fine." I'm fine baby, I'm fine, Christ how I miss you. " We're on our way, okay?"

"Okay, good!" Whitney gripped the phone tightly. "I miss you. I can't... I can't wait for you to get here."

"I know. I can't say much." She said softly, hoping he'd understand her dad was right there, as she tried so much not to cry. "We'll be there soon."

"I know. Neither can I." He paused, and his throat was tight. "I'll be waiting for you. But... Mom's glaring at me. I have to go. Hurry." He hung up, and looked at his mom. "Chloe and Mr. Sullivan are on the way."

Lorry's eyebrows came up, and she barely restrained from smiling at his lost puppy look as she turned to lower the heat under the meat she'd put on to stew. The table was set, the glassware out, and she motioned towards the cabinet in the living room across the kitchen island. "Get the wine out for me? 1978, its a yellow bottle."

"Okay." Whitney nearly leapt over the low couch as he hurried into the living room, and he carefully pulled the bottle of the small wine display, and then carried it back to the kitchen. "Here you go, Mom."

"Open it, for me? And set it in the ice bucket to chill, their by the table. Did you set out the good silverware?" She finished the meat and with the careful hands of a woman who'd cooking for many years, ladled it into a large ceramic bowl, to be set on the table as well.

"Yeah, Mom, I did. I set out the good silverware, I set out the good napkins, and the good plates." He grinned as he popped the cork on the wine bottle with strong fingers. "There. Didn't even need a corkscrew." Hearing Chloe's voice had lifted his spirits immensely.

And could she ever tell, as she watched her now cheerful son move about with a spring in his step. Good God. She looked at the ceiling a moment...wondered if she'd ever been such a love sick teenager, realized... yeah, she had been, and sighed softly as she picked up the bowl with mittens with rubber duckies all over them, walking ti the table.

Soft whistle as he situated the bottle in the ice bucket, and oddly enough, he was whistling "Rubber Duckie." It was the only song he knew by heart who's tune he could carry, and he sat out two glasses, one at his mother's place and one more for Mr. Sullivan.

Just as he was doing it her ears caught a car parking outside, and she lifted her head to her soon, watching him for his reaction. She was curious to see her baby's reaction, and her eyebrow came up as she did so.

His whistle died in mid-song as he heard the car crunching gravel in the driveway, and he dropped everything in his hands, ice skittering across the table as he jammed the bottle in the rest of the way, glass rocking on it's base before settling as he tore through the living room. He nearly tripped over the footstool by the chair, but jumped it like a tackle block and wrenched the front door open, hand slamming hard into the wall as he flipped the switch for the porch light.

And there she was. Tears streaming down her face before she even saw him, hair kind of damp from the rain, umbrella on her arm, and she looked at him, for a single moment. Just looked at him. Let out an ear splitting shriek and launched at him, not caring that she flew off the ground in the process, and locked her arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as she could and just… sobbing.

Whitney's arms locked around her waist as he lifted her up, holding her as tight as he could, not caring if he was squeezing too tight or what. He just held her tightly, swinging her around in a little circle, hand on the back of her head and holding her face to his shoulder as he tightened his grip on her even further, rubbing his cheek against her neck and kissing her shoulder lightly as he held her.

Lorry watched it very quietly from behind her son. The young woman crying, her son holding her tightly, and she looked passed them at Gabe, shaking her head as her eyes twinkled softly. She offered him her hand to come past the two kids. "Hi, Gabe. I'm really glad you could make it, sweetheart."

"Make it? No problem. Not killing my daughter? More of a problem. but, I promised that I wouldn't yell if she wanted to sit next to Whitney, so I can't yell at this either." He followed her into the kitchen.

Chloe let go of him only so her heels could click on the hard wood floor and she could bring him in for a kiss. One, two, three, four, hard kisses as she squeezed him, tightly, and she just... she was so much more HAPPY, and she just wanted to die in joy. Her sweet lover, and she hadn't seen him in a whole 29 hours, and she kisses him all over again, hugging him tightly to her.

Whitney returned every kiss with one of his own, his hands stroking through her hair, touching her face, her back, everywhere he could touch and hold her to him, breathing in perfume, tasting Chloe skin, and not. letting. go.

"I missed you." She sobbed it softly into his mouth, as she ran her fingers through his hair, over his back, and wrapped him close to her again, rocking with the embrace. "I m-m-missed you so much."

Lorry's lips were twitching very, very softly as she led her friend into the kitchen, and offered one of the wine glasses she'd poured when Whitney tore out of the dining room, handing it to him gently and offering a stool. "Take a seat. You look like you're ready to commit murder."

"I missed you, baby. More than you'll ever, ever know." He kissed her again, stroking her shoulders and arms, holding her tightly against him as he did. "I missed you."

"Murder? Yeah. That sounds like a nice option."

And because he did look so miserable, Lorry pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek and chuckled softly, shaking her head and sipping her wine. "Gabe, there isn't anything we can do." A beat. "I feel so old. My mother and father did this very thing to me when I was eighteen."

"We are old, Lorry." Deep sigh. "We're old, they're young, and there's no middle ground here. What the hell do we do?"

She peaked around the wall, where they were still hugging each other, the front door still hanging partially ajar, and set her head back on her chin as she looked at her dear friend. "That's the hard part. My mother side is telling me to... move Chloe to Bermuda, Whitney to China, and forbid them to ever see each other. But the woman side, the girl who had a high school sweetheart, grew to love him, and married him, producing this beautiful child... that side says I can't be too hard on them."

"I'm all for the moving. I hear Bermuda's nice this time of year, and I could use a tan." He raised his wine glass and studied the level of deep burgundy liquid in it. "I'm not gonna go and rehash what you already know, Lorry, but my high-school sweetheart didn't turn out all rosy and sweet like Jack did."

She knew all about Christine. Everything the woman had done to her family, to her daughter and husband, and she reached out to gently cup Gabe's hand underneath hers. "I know, Gabe. But Chloe isn't her. She's a good girl, with a strong head."

"And a smart-ass mouth."

Lorry's lips spread, again, before she could help it. "Dr. Bryce would say that... you'd know something about that."

"Just because Dr. Bryce didn't like me telling her to drop-kick her own ass, doesn't mean I have a smart mouth," Gabe pointed out. He resolutely did not peer around the corner at his daughter.

Oh and Lorry laughed, her voice soft and tinkling as she climbed to her feet for him, coming around the corner. "Whitney? Chloe, we're going to eat. Come on, kids, you can cry later. Come help me get the rest of this food on the table."

"Okay." Whitney's voice was muffled against Chloe's shoulder as he finally kicked the door shut. He didn't let her go, not even to lock the door as he kept her held tightly to his chest.

But Chloe did, when she felt Whitney's moms eyes on her, and she let him go but didn't in any way get away from him, rubbing her damp eyes with her fingertips as she grasped his hand with her free hand. A few sniffles and she smiled at the woman a little, very shyly, as she cleared her throat quietly and looked up at Whitney.

Lorry smiled at the both of them and motioned them towards the dining room, turning back around and walking back into the kitchen. A tap on Gabe's shoulder to remind him to stay calm, and she took his glass and her own into the dining room.

Whitney grabbed her hand like it was his only lifeline in the world. His fingers laced tightly through hers, and he didn't move from her side as they walked. He stayed tightly beside her and with her, towering just a little over her and glowering at Mr. Sullivan.

Gabe looked the young boy up and down. Broad shouldered and lean from football practice and grueling games, Whitney was nearly a head taller than he was. "Good evening, Mr. Fordman."

"Mr. Sullivan." Whitney's answer was on the wary side of respectful.

Chloe didn't look at her father, just keeping Whitney's hand tight in her own as she set her purse down, following Ms. Fordman into the dining room instead as she stayed as close as was physically possible to her lover. The rain had slowed down outside but in no way stopped, and she looked up at Whitney quietly, mouthing softly, 'Its Clark.'

Whitney looked down. "What's Clark?" he asked in a low whisper, keeping her tugged back beside him.

Her finger just pointed outside as the thunder rolled across the valley, and smiled a little shakily at Lorry. "I... can I? Do something?"

Lorry just shook her head gently. She'd watched the little relaying of information, not saying a word as she bumped her hip against Gabe's to make him smile, and grasped the big bowl of vegetables before finally coming to the table. "Their. What would you both like to drink?

"Iced... iced tea, if you have it?"

"Sure." Lorry glanced at her son. "John?"

"Tea's fine, Mom. You need any help?" Whitney didn't look at all happy with the prospect of moving away from Chloe, but he would if his mother needed help.

Gabe got the hip check, but scowled.

"Not at all, dear, take a seat." She stepped back into the kitchen, and gave her friend a pointed look as she pointed for him to get glasses from the cupboard. She took out the large iced tea pitcher, as well as some lemons already cut in a Tupperware bowl.

Whitney sat down in his usual chair, and pulled Chloe down to sit in the chair beside him, holding her hand and resting their clasped fingers on his leg.

Gabe scowled again, but got the glasses down, four of them, and set them at each plate. His scowl darkened at the clasped hands, but he didn't say a word.

Yeah. She wasn't going to cry, and she sure as hell wasn't going to look at her dad, as she wrapped her fingers tightly through Whitney's... glanced up at him, and quickly wiped the lipstick marks off his cheek before her dad saw, before back down. A cleared throat and she smiled up at Ms. Fordman as she entered again.

"Here we are. iced tea...iced tea." She poured them easily, set the plate of lemon slices in between both glasses, and took her seat beside Gabe.

"Thanks, Mom." Whitney squeezed Chloe's hands gently in his. "Not quite the way I envisioned it, but... here's to a family dinner."

Chloe nearly choked on her own tongue as her eyes went wide, looking from Whitney, to her father, to Lorry, and then giving her sweet, beautiful lover a swift stomp on the foot with her heel.

Whitney yelped at the stomp on his foot, and glared at his girlfriend.

Gabe didn't say a word. "Lorry, can I have another glass of wine, please?" He held out one of the large tea glasses.

 

-fin-

go on to the next part