Work Text:
Our House
I'll light the fire, you place the flowers in the vase that you bought today.
Staring at the fire for hours and hours while I listen to you
Play your love songs all night long for me, only for me.
Come to me now and rest your head for just five minutes, everything is done.
Such a cozy room, the windows are illuminated by the evening
Sunshine through them, fiery gems for you, only for you.
Our house is a very, very fine house with two cats in the yard, life used to be so hard,
Now everything is easy cause of you and our la, la, la...
I'll light the fire, while you place the flowers in the vase that you bought today.
Our House – Crosby, Stills, and Nash
March 19, 2010
“Are you sure you feel up to this, babe?”
“This isn’t exactly the time to be asking me that, sweetie. Not when we’re standing in front of the property and the realtor is parking his car…” Cam said with a smirk.
“I know, honey, I know, but the chemo has been kicking your butt this week…” Chris said, concern etched on his handsome face. Cameron had only just started chemo two weeks ago and her body was staging some sort of mini-rebellion against the powerful drugs that were now coursing through her veins.
“The move, the travel, the stress,” she said as she smiled and waved at the realtor, one Timothy Harper, a friend and colleague of her cousin Shannon. The realtor grinned at them then turned to lock his car. As he walked towards where Cam and Chris stood on the sidewalk in front of the Back Bay townhouse Cam had wanted to see, she said to Chris, “Doing all of this around the same time I started chemo was probably not one of my brightest ideas but,” she shrugged, “what are you gonna do? We couldn’t wait until the last minute to come up to Boston. I mean, you start filming in eight days and I wanted us both to be settled in by then. Driving here from Sudbury and back every day would probably be worse for me. I’m better off being closer to Mass General, you know?”
Chris nodded as he held out a hand to Tim Harper. “Tim, right?” he asked with a grin as the realtor shook his hand. “I’m Chris Evans and this is my girlfriend, Cameron Kennedy.”
Tim chuckled. “Hey, how’s it going? I would have known you two anywhere, not just because of Shannon being your cousin, Ms. Kennedy, but pictures of you two from the Oprah show have been on newspaper and magazine covers for weeks up here. After all, Mr. Evans, you are a hometown boy!” Chris laughed as Cam shook her head, a grin on her face. “By the way, these are for you,” Tim said as he handed Chris a venti-sized Starbucks coffee. Surprised, Chris grinned and said thanks as Tim handed Cam a bottle of water. “Shannon told me you’d just started chemo, Ms. Kennedy, so I wasn’t sure coffee would be good for you.”
“Coffee would have been okay, Mr. Harper, but water is even better. I have to be careful to stay hydrated. Thanks for this,” Cam said as she twisted open the bottle cap.
“First off, let’s drop the formalities,” Chris said. “I’m Chris, she’s Cameron, and you’re Tim. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” Tim said with a laugh. “So, Back Bay, huh? Great area and the houses here are pristine.”
“So I see,” Cam said as she glanced around her. The street they were on, Beacon Street, was lovely, with old, turn of the century townhouses up and down the block. It was no Greenwich Village – this area was much more sedate – but it was still very, very nice. She turned around and looked up at the house they were about to tour. “I love the bay window but…maybe it’s me, but I didn’t realize the house was completely attached to its neighbor.”
“Almost all of the houses around here are attached to their neighbors,” Tim said.
“Yeah, no, I understand that but what I mean is, 225 and 227 share a façade.”
“Oh, I see what you mean. Well, I can honestly say that you won’t hear your neighbors in 227 – the walls are very thick.”
“That’s good, considering Cam is probably gonna want to create some sort of music room in there,” Chris said.
“Not anytime soon, though,” Cam said thoughtfully. “That’s going to take some work, and I’m not sure I’m feeling up to that kind of undertaking just now.” She gave Chris a smile that was tinged with melancholy and he felt his heart twist in his chest. His poor, beautiful Cameron. He knew it had to be killing her to say that. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. And how sad that it was so much easier now to wrap his hand around her neck like that. No more burrowing under her thick ebony hair. On the first day of chemo, she went to her favorite hairdresser and had him give her a charming pixie cut. Naturally, Chris had accompanied her but it was hard – really fucking hard – to watch all that long silky hair he loved fall to the floor with every snip of the scissors. Cameron had reasoned that if she were to start losing her hair because of the chemo, it would be easier to deal with if it was short rather than watching her long hair drop into the sink every morning. Chris understood completely, he really did, but it didn’t make him any less unhappy about it. Still, it was her comfort, her peace of mind that was of the utmost importance. After all, hair grew back.
Tim looked at Cameron. “Music room? Uh, maybe I got my signals crossed but I thought you were only looking to rent the property for the duration of Chris’ film shoot.”
Cam shook her head. “I’ve decided it would be more prudent to buy.” She watched as Tim’s eyes lit up. Their buying a house meant a pretty sizeable commission for him. He grinned at them and swept his arm towards the steps leading up to the front door. “I see. Well then, let’s have ourselves a walk-through.”
An hour later, Tim left Chris and Cam in the front parlor to talk while he answered a couple of phone calls he’d gotten during their tour of the house. “So, a ghra, what do you think?”
“It’s…nice?” Chris said hesitantly.
“Yes, it is.” She waited for him to continue.
“It’s, um, really big.”
“Aye, quite spacious.” She could tell he was not enamored of the place but seemed afraid to say so, as though being honest about his feelings towards the house would hurt her feelings. Still, she wanted him to tell her what he thought; she didn’t want to lead his answers, so she waited him out. She knew he’d crack soon enough.
Chris could see that Cameron wasn’t going to help him along on this. She just stood there, eyeing him expectantly. “Babe, the house really is nice but it’s not…me. It’s really formal, all that dark wood and the wainscoting and the paneling and the marble…I feel like I should be walking around in a silk evening jacket with a snifter of brandy and a Cuban cigar. I don’t think I would ever feel entirely comfortable living here.”
“Finally!” Cam declared with a sigh. “That’s all I wanted to hear, sweetheart. I’m buying you a house so the first priority is finding something you can be you in. The minute I saw that staircase – while amazing – I knew this so wasn’t you.” She grinned. “That kitchen was pretty cool, though.”
“Oh, yeah, that I liked. It was bright and open and really airy, like the kitchen back in New York. That’s one of my favorite places to hang out, and the kitchen here would be a great place to hang, too. Wish the rest of the house had that same vibe.”
“Okay, so that’s a no.”
“Yeah, it’s a no.”
“Done. Let’s go find Tim and let him know then we’ll head to the next place.”
“And where’s that one?”
“Mt. Vernon in Beacon Hill. It’s a few blocks away from the Common.”
Chris nodded. “That’s a nice area,” he said as they walked toward the front hall. Tim was already there waiting for them. “So, what do you two think?”
“It’s nice,” Cam told him, “but it’s not our style.” She hid her grin as she watched Tim’s smile dim a bit. She had some idea as to how much this place cost so it was easy to guess that the commission would have been huge but considering she was prepared to spend millions, she figured he’d still get a nice chunk of change for his troubles, one way or the other.
“Okay, then,” Tim said gamely, “how about we take my car to the next house then I’ll drive you back to your car?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Chris said as he pulled open the front door and stepped out. Cam chuckled. He couldn’t wait to get out of this house. Tim gestured for her to precede him but she stopped and looked at him. “Tim, how much was this place actually selling for?” she asked.
“Seven point nine million,” he answered.
“Sweet Mother Mary. Whatever you do, Timothy, do not mention that to Chris unless you happen to have smelling salts handy.”
Tim laughed. “I won’t, I promise. The next place isn’t as pricey.”
Cam arched an eyebrow. Not as pricey? In Beacon freakin’ Hill? She had only been interested in rental prices at the time she’d seen the photos for this place and the one in Beacon Hill so she didn’t actually know the selling prices. Not that she cared. She was loaded and could more than afford any house they saw. Besides, this house was for Chris and if he wanted the Taj Mahal, she’d simply pull out her checkbook and ask, “How much?” She cocked her head to one side and said, “How is a house in Beacon Hill cheaper than one in Back Bay?”
Tim ushered her out the door as he answered. “Depends on the house, really. This one is big and it’s old, which is a major selling point, and it was renovated not too long ago, so that factors into the price. With the market the way it is, you never can tell what a Boston townhouse is going to go for. I would imagine it’s the same in New York. Shannon says you have a gorgeous 1845 townhouse in Greenwich Village. That must have set you back some.”
“Six million in 2003. It’s worth twice that now.” They made their way down the front steps to where Chris stood waiting.
“And it will probably be worth three times as much in another six years.”
“Probably, but I’m not selling it, ever. It’s staying in the family, come hell or high water.”
“Well, if you do ever decide to sell…” Tim said with a devilish gleam in his eye.
Cameron laughed. “Nope, not happening. I give that listing to you and Shannon will kill us both!”
Cam stood in the center of the rooftop garden of the Beacon Hill house and watched as Chris, his smile a mile wide, made his way back up the steps from the lower outdoor dining area. She chuckled to herself. She already knew there would be no need to question him about this house. This was their new home in Boston. This place was lighter and brighter than the house in Back Bay. Yes, there were touches of dark wood but it was in no way as abundant or overwhelming as the Beacon Street house. And these two outdoor areas for entertaining? She could almost hear them calling Chris’ name. And he was happily answering that call if his mega-watt smile was anything to go by. She arched a brow as he approached her. “Yes?”
“Oh, hell yeah!” came his enthusiastic response. “Everything about this place is amazing. And I know we both loved the kitchen and that great big breakfast nook. I can see us spending hours there harassing Nigel. All the bedrooms are big and, babe, there’s a gym! That’s going to make training so much easier once the Marvel guys get here. And you can work out, too. Dr. Rob said you need to stay as active as possible.” He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the lips. “I love it, babe, I really do!”
“Done,” she said with a smile. “Mo ghra, welcome to your new house.”
“Our house, sweetheart. Both our names go on the deed and on the mortgage.”
“What mortgage?” she scoffed. “I’m paying cash, or rather, with a cashier’s check, as soon as the lawyers on both sides do their thing.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Does this look like my ‘I’m kidding’ face, a ghra?”
“But you don’t even know how much this place costs!”
“So? I’m good for it.”
“Babe…”
“Chris, we’ve been through this.”
“Well, then, let me furnish it.”
“Honey…”
“Hey, I may not be worth close to a billion dollars like someone on this rooftop who shall remain nameless, but I’ve been working for close to ten years now and I’ve put away a nice chunk of change. I can afford to furnish a house, even one in Beacon Hill. The only thing you’ll be responsible for is your music room. That’s your domain and I wouldn’t presume to know what should and shouldn’t go in there.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “I know buying the furniture isn’t going to come close to what you’re about to drop on this place, but at least I’ll feel like I’ve contributed to our house. This is the first place we’ve chosen together and will be moving into together as a couple. I want to contribute something. Okay?”
Cam sighed then smiled. “Well, when you put it that way…” The rest of her words were cut off by Chris’ lips on hers. They shared a long, deep, heartfelt kiss and only pulled apart when they heard Tim’s footsteps on the metal stairs leading up to the roof. Chris gave Cam a quick, tight hug before they turned to face the realtor.
“So, what do you think?” Tim asked, although he was fairly certain he already knew the answer. Chris could barely contain his enthusiasm for the place during the entire walk-through.
“How much?” Cam asked bluntly.
“Five point five million,” came the equally blunt reply.
Chris choked on his own spit. Cam gave him the side eye then looked back at Tim and said, “Sold.”
A week later, Chris and Cameron were all moved in to their new place. True to his word, Chris furnished the whole house with the exception of the one room they designated as Cam’s future music room. He gathered a bunch of his friends and they put together whatever furniture needed assembling while Cameron sat in the wheelchair the oncologist at Mass General insisted she use on her bad days and “supervised” the boys. They had Nigel close up the New York house (which would be cared for by Isabella and her housekeeper) and come up to join them. As a surprise for Cameron, Josh Groban came up with Nigel, declaring that he was acting as the older man’s butler during the trip. Chris was grateful for Josh’s presence, as well as that of Nurse Linda and Nigel. He’d already started work on What’s Your Number? and was pleased that Cam had a solid team around her to look after her when he couldn’t be there.
Cam continued to have good days and bad days as her body became acclimated to the powerful chemo drugs she was being given five days a week. True to his word, Dr. Rob Shapiro flew up to Boston twice a week to monitor Cameron. He was pleased with her progress and was confident she could be scaled back to three sessions a week within the next two weeks. Although her good days were beginning to outnumber her bad ones, Chris hoped that scaling back her chemo sessions would ease up the beating her poor body was taking on her bad days. It broke his heart to come home from the set and find her in bed, covered up to her chin in blankets, wearing one of his heavier cardigans for both the warmth it gave her and the comfort she received just from breathing in his scent on his clothing.
One evening, he walked into the kitchen to find Josh, Linda and Nigel huddled together over cups of coffee and slices of angel food cake. Off to one side was a covered tray; it was obvious who that had been for. He lifted the cover and saw that the dinner hadn’t been touched. He looked over and met three pairs of anxious eyes. “Has she eaten at all today?”
“Just some broth and tea this afternoon, Mr. Evans,” Nigel said sadly.
“And she couldn’t even keep that down,” Josh said with a shake of his head.
“The Haldol isn’t working?” Chris asked Linda.
“It’s been kind of hit or miss,” the nurse answered. “She took one look at that tray and she turned away from it. I thought she was going to lose it right there on the bed but the moment passed.”
“We were waiting for you to get home so you could maybe get her to have some of the fresh broth Nigel made,” Josh said. “Linda gave her a Haldol about an hour ago so maybe…”
Chris sighed. “Maybe she’ll be able to keep it down. Okay, yeah. Nige, fix me a bowl. I’ll take it up to her.”
“Why don’t you sit and have your own dinner, Mr. Evans?” the butler asked.
“Nah. Let me take care of my girl first; I’ll eat later.”
Chris slowly opened the door to the shadowy master bedroom, which was illuminated only by the lamp on his side of the bed and that was on its lowest setting. He stepped all the way in and closed the door behind him. He turned back to the bed and found Cameron’s slightly glazed eyes watching him. “Hey, babe,” he said softly as he approached her, “I thought for sure you’d be out cold but I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
“I wanted to see you, a ghra. I missed you.”
Chris felt his heart twist. “Oh, baby, I missed you too. I was hoping you’d be well enough to come spend a little time with me on the set.” He set the bowl of broth down on his night table and climbed into bed with her. He brushed her bangs off her forehead and gave her a gentle kiss there. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired but, thankfully, not in pain or nauseous or anything. Believe it or not, I am a little hungry. Is that broth you brought in here?”
Chris smiled down at her. “Yeah. Do you want to try some?”
She nodded as she slowly pushed the covers down to her hips then, with Chris’ help, worked her way into a semi-reclined position with her pillows piled up behind her. She looked at Chris bashfully. “I feel kind of weak, a ghra, do you think you could maybe feed me? I’ll probably make a godawful mess.”
“Oh, honey, as if you had to ask. Of course, I’ll feed you.” He turned himself around on the bed so he was facing Cam directly then retrieved the bowl and spoon from his night table. For the next twenty minutes, he carefully spoon fed Cameron and felt elated every time she swallowed the broth and opened her mouth for more. When the bowl was empty, he waited a few minutes to see if he would have to make a grab for the bucket they kept by the bed for those sudden bouts of nausea that would occasionally sneak up on her. Five minutes passed and he saw her smile. “You okay, sweetheart?”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, my stomach is calm. I feel almost normal.”
Chris grinned. “I’ll take it.” He put the bowl and spoon back on his night table then adjusted himself on the bed so he was lying next to her, his head propped up on his hand. With his free hand, he reached over and interlaced his fingers with hers. “Did the broth make you feel a little better?”
“Much, actually,” she said, her voice a little stronger now. She turned her head and met his eyes. “Thank you, my love. You take such good care of me. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You know the words, babe. ‘In sickness and in health, for better or for worse.’”
She smiled at him. “But we’re not married.”
He brought their intertwined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. “Here we are, together, in our bed, in our house, with our love stronger now than it’s ever been. So, as far as I’m concerned, yes, we are married.”
She slowly leaned down as he leaned up and their lips met in a soft kiss. She pulled away slightly and whispered against his mouth, “Now who could argue with that?”