Chapter Text
Every morning Mel’s alarm goes off at 4:30am and she chooses to have a good day. Before she even opens her eyes she tells herself she will have a great day. Her mother used to tell her that a positive outlook was all she needed to turn a bad day into a blessing. Unfortunately for her, it was getting harder to find the silver lining nowadays.
Her sister was her best friend and she had pulled away from Mel, discovering a new level of independence that surprised both of them. Becca was living her life to the fullest, just like Mel always wanted her too, she just didn’t expect it to hurt so bad. It manifested under Mel’s skin like a familiar rejection. She was used to people leaving her, she just never expected Becca to be one of them. Which was unfair of course, Becca wasn't abandoning her, her priorities have simply shifted from rewatching Elf every night with her sister to spending more time at the center or out with her boyfriend.
Mel was thrilled for Becca, she really was, she was just lonely. She found it hard to connect to most of her coworkers, and realized she didn’t know her own interest. She had spent her whole life making sure her sister was happy she never bothered to learn what she liked. She and Becca went to the Ren Faire every year and Mel knew she loved that. She also knew she loved history and going to all of the museums in the city was a highlight of moving to Pittsburgh. Especially being able to catch the train into Philly for a long weekend of American History.
She tried to find other hobbies, but hasn’t had much luck. She’s a terrible artist, with no motivation to improve. She wanted to volunteer at the local animal shelter, but it turns out she’s deathly allergic to cats, so that was a no. She made sure to leave the shelter a monetary donation when she knew it wasn’t going to work out. The next thing on her list to try was baking. After work she was going to stop at the grocery store to get all of the ingredients to make cinnamon rolls so she could have a fun brunch by herself in her apartment, with warm cinnamon rolls and watch her favorite movie. Finally being able to break free of the Will Ferrell choke hold she was in trapped for years was the highlight of Becca’s new hound independence.
Just like every other morning she’s thirty minutes early for work, by the time she makes it to her locker. She takes an earlier bus than necessary in case of delay. She is usually the first person from the day shift to arrive and Abbott always calls her out on it. Telling her thirty extra minutes of sleep helps brain function, or stopping for a coffee on your way in is a good way to prioritize your own well being. He’s right, but Mel likes her routine. This morning though, she’s not the first day shifter here, Dr. Langdon is already at his locker, putting his backpack away.
Frank, which she would never call him to his face, is another reason it’s been harder to keep her sunny disposition. Imagine meeting a person that seems to speak a language only the two of you know on the most anxious day of your life and then he disappears without a trace for ten months. When he first left, before Mel knew the story she tried to ask Dana for his email address or phone number, so she could bounce questions off of him only to be shut down immediately. Santos had filled her in on what happened a week later and her heart broke for him. At the VA she grew a rapport with a few addicts so knew he didn’t have an easy road ahead of him. She wished him well, but figured he wouldn’t want to hear from someone he had just met in the middle of withdrawal and recovery.
When he came back ten months later, though, it was like no time had passed between them. He remembered things she told him that first day and she seemed to be the only person he was still comfortable with. He’d made his amends, but not many people were ready to fully trust him again. Nobody except Mel. Which is how they became basically attached at the hip. He would pull her on all of his interesting cases and she would tell him about the medical journals she was reading between patients. It was almost perfect, she had a friend and he had a confidant. It would’ve been perfect. If only Mel wasn’t desperately, disgustingly in love with him. The kind of love that makes your vision tunnel until they’re the only thing you can see. It was exhausting to pretend she didn’t feel that way.
He took little pieces of her soul home with him each day, took them straight home to his wife and kids. God, she was so stupid she knew he was married, the gold ring around his wedding finger was a dead giveaway and her heart still betrayed her, but Mel King was nothing if not honorable, especially at the expense of herself. She would never tell him how she felt, she would grit her teeth and thank the universe for letting him orbit around her at all. It would’ve been easy, this was not her first rodeo with unrequited love, if only he hadn’t made it so damn difficult.
Reaching her locker she sees a yellow travel mug sitting at the top waiting for her, a homemade London Fog latte. Back in college Langdon worked part time as a barista and still loved making drinks. He asked for her coffee order when he first came back, and she told him while she wasn't partial to all the caffeine in coffee she did love a London Fog latte when it rained. All these months later he always brought her one when the weather permitted, in a yellow travel mug because yellow is a happy color that always made him think of her. She grabs the cup, and takes a long drink. It’s heaven in a cup, it warms her from the inside out. She holds it with both hands letting the subtle warmth that bleeds through the insulation bring life back to her numb fingers.
“Scale from one to ten, how did I do?” Langdon asks, sliding up to her and leaning against the lockers crossing his arms over his chest, so the veins in his arms are extra prominent. She swears he does that just to drive her crazy.
“Ten. It’s always a ten.” She tells him.
“Ah, so there’s still room for improvement.” He says.
“What, how?”
“If it was really good you’d give me an eleven.”
“That wasn’t a number on your scale.” Mel hates it when she feels like she’s missing some social situation that comes easily to others. She does best when everyone is honest; she doesn’t have to jump through hoops to be part of a conversation. It’s why she loved science so much in the first place, it ultimately led her to medicine.
“I know, but one day I will make you a latte so good, it will leave the scale in the dust, just you wait.” He doesn’t wait for her reply before he leaves the locker room with an easy smile, that makes her heart flutter. So yeah, Mel was a little obsessed with Frank Langdon. Between his kind eyes and perfect hair she was a goner from the moment she met him and then the cherry on top that sealed her fate was he was nice to her. Really nice to her, in ways she’d never been shown kindness before. Within hours of knowing he'd become her anchor. He was quick to offer his help or when he deemed help unnecessary, words of encouragement.
By the time she gets the chase to check the clock she’s an hour away from the end of her shift. It’s been a busy day, but not a heavy one. She’s been able to save all of her patients and even got to pick a few hundred pieces of glass out of a teenager's arm who thought if jumped through a window the glass wouldn’t cut him too badly. He had forgotten to factor in the momentum that would have him rolling through the shattered pieces. She is just sitting down to chart, when she sees Dr. Langdon again. He’s leaving against the desk talking to McKay about some sporting event that happened the night before. He smiles down at her when she turns the computer on.
“Long time no see, any good cases so far?” He asks, sliding her a protein bar he’d packed just for her. It was his new thing. He’d found out she has a hard time eating breakfast because she’s not hungry in the mornings, but then forgets to bring lunch. It’s more for his benefit that’s what he tells her, that she gets hangry. She accepts the bar and immediately tears into it, not realizing how hungry she really was.
“Nothing too exciting, you?”
“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’ making her laugh. “Any fun weekend plans?”
“I’m going to teach myself to bake, actually. I’m cautiously optimistic about it.”
“Woah woah woah. What kind of baking are we talking about? Like pre-made Pillsbury cookie dough or a multi-tier cake?” His brow quirks up and he’s leaning forwards, like he’s on the edge of his seat to know the answer.
“Um, I’d say somewhere in the middle. It’s cinnamon rolls. Not Pillsbury, from scratch.” He lets out a low whistle at that, impressed. She preens under his praise.
“I would kill for a homemade cinnamon roll.”
“Oh, well I’m not sure what your schedule is like this weekend, but you're welcome to stop by and grab one, or stay and you can join me in watching The Princess Bride in my pajamas.” The offer is out of her mouth before her brain even catches up to the thought. His eyebrows shoot up at the offer and she knows she’s over stepped. He’s married with kids of course he’s busy on a Saturday morning. She opens her mouth to try some damage control, but he speaks first.
“So are the pajamas a required element or is it more of a comfort thing? Like If I showed up in sweats instead of flannel pajama pants would I still be invited in?” His question catches her off guard and she just stares at him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, but is he joking about the dress code or the entire invitation? She decides to be brave and try her own joke.
“No dress code required for the confection, but if you want to watch the movie you better look cozy.” It seems her bravery pays off because now he’s smiling at her like she’s the sun after a week of rain.
“What time and can I bring anything?” He asks.
“I need to warn you I’ve never baked before so this could be terrible.” She needs to manage his expectations, she’s got less experience than a beginner.
“I don’t believe that, you’re good at everything.” He gives her a little wink that makes her heart flutter. She glances down at his left hand to remind herself he’s married, but he’s not wearing it today? Huh, he must have put it in his locker or something. He’s still married and Abby is all but a red headed supermodel, they’re both so good looking it only makes sense they ended up together. Plus Abby is nice. They’ve only met a handful of times at work related events, but Abby made sure to make pleasant conversation with Mel at each one. Usually about the kids or Louie the labradoodle, but Mel always enjoyed it. Then she would go home and vomit from the guilt of loving another woman’s husband.
“Let’s say 11 o’clock and it’s going to be gloomy and frigid, I wouldn’t say no to another London Fog.” He just gets the chance to agree, before Dana is calling him to the ambulance bay.
“Don't forget it’s raining, I’m driving you home!” He throws the reminder over his shoulder as he follows Dana out the door. It’s her favorite part of storm season, Frank insists on giving her a ride so she doesn’t have to wait for the bus. If he had it his way he would drive her to and from work everyday, but she didn’t think her heart could take the extra forty minutes alone with him everyday. So they compromise with rides during frightful weather only, but Frank does try his best to renegotiate terms when he thinks she’d be amenable. He hasn't won yet, but she knows it’s only a matter of time before he wears her down. She’s helpless when it comes to him. Is it still people pleasing if you want to give in too?
…
When their shift ends he’s waiting for her by the lockers, wearing his coat and trusty Pittsburgh Penguins hat. He shucks off her scrub top so she’s just in her purple thermal shirt and throws her puffer on top and zips it up to her nose. She grabs her backpack making a move to sling it over her shoulder, but Frank stops her, takes the bag and carries it by the top handle and leads her to his GMC that has the best heated seats. She can see her breath when she moves to buckle her seat belt and shivers when the metal of the buckle meets her palm. Frank disconnects from the blue tooth so she can play her freezing temperatures playlist, which he calls sad girl hour, but she finds it comforting. He must too because she catches him humming along every time it’s on.
Mel watches the rain hit the passenger window as Frank drives. She really did love the rain, it was a reset, it washed away everything ugly and left enough to try again. That’s what her life felt like right now, Becca was more independent than ever and now Mel was staring down the horizon for the rest of her life. The rain in her heart has cleared and she was left with the chance of a new beginning. Even if baking wasn’t her new passion she still had a whole list of ideas. She would be okay, even if she was lonely.
“Hey, what are you thinking? You look too sad for someone who’s off tomorrow.” Frank tears her from her looping thoughts. He’s smiling softly at her, before bringing his eyes back to the road. They stop at a red light a second later and he looks back at her with gentle eyes. He’s always gentle with her, she loves that about him.
“If baking isn’t my thing, maybe I’ll try learning French.” She looks down at the center console a little sheepish.
“C'est une bonne idée!” He exclaims grinning wildly when her eyes go wide.
“Since when do you speak French?” She asks him incredulously. It would be something she’d remembered about him.
“I definitely do not, but I did take two years of it in high school. If you learn you can give me a refresher, then no one in the ED would ever be able to figure out our secrets.” He’s really laughing now, the corners of his eyes crinkle and his head is thrown back just enough where he can let the laugh escape, but still keep his eye on the road.
“Yes, because we have so many secrets to hide.”
“I have a few, don’t you?”
“Just one.” She blushes at the omission, thankfully he doesn’t appear to notice her sudden shyness.
“And if you learn French you can tell me and I’ll be the only one who will ever know.”
“Are you sure Jack doesn’t speak French?” She’s pretty sure Samira told her that Dr. Abbot likes to whisper little words of devotion to her in French when they’re alone.
“Jack doesn’t count, he’s a night walker.” Frank waves his hand dismissively.
“But whatever Jack knows, Samira knows and vice versa.” Her reminder makes him stiffen with concern, but recovers quickly.
“You’re right, we should learn Russian instead. Then Jack would really be suspicious of us. He’d think we’re sleeper agents or something.”
“I thought the idea was to keep suspicion off of us.” Her brow furrows, losing track of the conversation.
“Where’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” Then it dawns on her.
“Joke?” She asks him.
“Joke.” He confirms for her.
“It was a good one.” She tells him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“Thank you, honey.” He returns the smile.
He’s extra affectionate today. Frank has always used pet names with her. Sweetheart is most common when he’s joking. Honey is more wholesome moments, and baby? Baby is only used when there’s something earth shattering happening. She’s only heard it once, when she’d fainted in the middle of the ED and woke up on a gurney with him hovering over her, begging for her to open her eyes. That’s when he’d found out about the not eating breakfast thing. He had been so worried, touching her face whispering in her ear she needed to wake up. Please baby, I need you to wake up. Over and over again until her eyes met his. He had tears welled in his baby blues and she had been so confused.
As with every car ride they share, this one is over too soon for her liking. He pulls up to her brownstone and puts the car in park. He never rushes her out the door. He often starts new conversations and they end up loitering outside her building for ten more minutes until she finally leaves the warmth of his car. Today, she’s eager for a shower though, so she loads up her stuff and promises she’ll see him tomorrow. She waves him goodbye when she makes it into her building’s lobby safely, giving him the okay to leave.
…
Much to her own pleasure it turns out baking is the science everyone says it is. With clear instructions she has this whole baking thing in the bag. The dough proved wonderfully and the filling was astoundingly simple. Who knew something so good only took a handful of ingredients. She puts the rolls in the oven to bake and sets a timer when she hears a knock on her door. He’s fifteen minutes early. She rushes to the door, hangs her apron on its hook, pulls her hair free of the messy bun she had it in to keep it out of the food, and opens the door. He’s standing just outside her door, in blue flannel pajamas and black slippers, holding a London Fog latte in a yellow travel mug. He looks a little stunned to see her and she reaches for her messy hair, trying to smooth it down. She ushers him in and takes her drink.
“Your hair is down.” He sounds a little dreamy to her ears, he must still be tired. He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook, still looking at her.
“For authenticity. I get headaches when I sleep with it back. Do not worry, I had it up while I was baking.” She hopes she can placate some of his worry, but he just keeps staring at her.
“Dr. Langdon, is everything okay?” He chokes out a cough and nods.
“Yes, of course. Sorry. It smells incredible in here, Mel!” He seems to come back to herself and she relaxes, letting the worry fall off of her shoulders.
“Thank you, I just put them in so it will be a while. Do you want to start the movie while we wait?”
“As you wish.” He says winking at her and she laughs at the reference. They head to the couch and Mel grabs the sage green blanket flooded over the back of it. It’s her favorite, the perfect ratio of softness and warmth. She sits crisscrossed and throws the blanket over her lap. Langdon sits next to her reaching for the matching black blanket that she’d brought out from her bedroom earlier thinking he’d want it. She’s glad to have been right. Reaching for the remote she presses play on the already queued movie.
“What are Tanner and Ellie’s favorite movies?” Mel asks. Becca never lets her talk during movies, so she’s using her new found freedom as an act of rebellion against her sister. What Becca doesn’t know can’t get Mel in trouble.
“Tanner is a big fan of Cars and Ellie loves Tangled at the moment." He grins. His face always lights up when he talks about his kids.
“Tangled is my favorite Disney movie. I even have a Repunzel costume. I bought it for Halloween last year, but I also wore it to the Ren Faire this year. I added fairy wings for some flair at the Faire. It was a huge hit.” Mel is rambling, Frank’s eyes seem to be both staring intently and glazing over. Is she boring him? He clears his throat, shaking his head a bit.
“I’m not sure what your Halloween plans are this year, but I think you would make Ellie’s life if you went trick or trekking with us dressed up as her favorite princess.”
“That would be really fun, but I don’t want to impose on you and Abby.” Mel says, biting her lip suddenly nervous.
“Don’t worry about that. I have the kids this Halloween and you couldn’t be an imposition on me if you tried.” He says dismissively.
“Oh, is Abby working?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. Since the divorce we’ve had a don’t ask don’t tell approach on everything not kid related.” He shrugs easily.
“I’m sorry what?” Mel couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“Maybe it's a little immature, but it works for us. She doesn’t want to hear about hospital stuff and I don’t care about her marketing job either. Sometimes she tells me about her dates, asks for advice and I tell her about you.” He’s blushing now and her heartbeat is roaring in her ears.
“Me?” it’s less of a questioning tone and more of a disbelieving squeak.
‘Of course, you. You’re all I can think about most of the time. Sometimes my thoughts escape and then I’m on a tangent about the latest article you’ve sent me or how much you love tangerines, but god forbid someone give you a navel orange.”
“They’re too much of a commitment.” She argues.
“I know, honey.” He smiles at her, amused.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were divorced?”
“I asked you to go apartment hunting with me. You even picked out my couch!”
“I thought you guys were just moving to be closer to work!”
“No, Mel. Abby and I are divorce, and have been for six months now. I’m so sorry. I thought you knew. I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I wore my ring to work for a while so I wasn’t the guy with a drug problem and a failed marriage, but I stopped wearing that too.” He holds up his left hand in emphasis and she almost reaches out to touch his hand. Instead her timer goes off and she flies off of the couch tripping only slightly from the blanket her legs are tangled in and checks the oven. The rolls are golden brown and smell incredible. Once they’re on the counter cooling she places her palms on the counter and lets her head fall forward. He’s not married. He’s in her apartment on his day off in pajamas and he’s not married. Her head is swimming by the time she feels Frank’s presence next to her.
“Mel, do you want me to leave?” Frank asks her, his hands out in front of himself like he’s resisting the urge to touch her. His face is contorted with concern and Mel feels the sting of tears she doesn’t understand behind her eyes. She shakes her head, hoping it’s enough for him to understand. He seems to be on the same page because he reaches for the waiting bowl of cream cheese frosting she’s already made and the pink silicone spatula and asks if he can help frost.
“I think if we frost them now it will just turn into a sticky mess.” She tells him and he looks a little dejected at the refusal. She wonders if this is what Tanner and Ellie look like when they’re pouting too.
“Come on, let’s start the movie over. I missed my favorite part.” She tells him and leads him back to her couch.
“As you wish.” He jokes again and then a daydream flashes before her eyes, a future halloween where she’s Buttercup and he’s Westley. The thought is shaken from her head when he covers her back up with her sage blanket and restarts the film. She snuggles into the couch leaning her head against the cushion and her face towards him, he mimics her pose mirroring her so their foreheads are almost touching.
“You remind me of Buttercup you know.” Frank breaks their silence a quarter through the movie. She decides to pause it so they can have the cinnamon rolls before they get cold. When she gets up, he follows, she hands him the bowl of frosting and the spatula.
“Really, how?” She asks
“Well the hair for one. Princess hair, as Ellie would call it. Buttercup is unwavering in her loyalty and determination, just like you.” He says, being careful to frost a completely even layer over the pastry.
“I don’t think I’m either of those things.”
“Of course you are. You had a million reasons to turn your back on me and you haven’t. Don’t even get me started on how passionate you got about learning every single thing about gluten intolerance so you could cook for Adam when he came over for the first time. You deep cleaned your kitchen for hours, that’s textbook determination, sweetheart.”
“Well if I’m Buttercup your Westley.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why’s that?” Now done with the frosting job he takes a lick from the spatula while he turns to lean against the counter to look at her. She busies herself getting plates and forks for them.
“You never give up, no matter how bad the deck is stacked against you. You’d do anything for the people you love. Plus you’d look really amazing in a pirate costume.” And now she’s thinking about her dream Halloween with him again. Maybe instead of Halloween he’d let her drag him to the Ren Fair all dressed up. He was a fan of reenactments; it wasn't that far of a jump. They dish up their confections and take them back to the couch. She cuts a piece off and pops it into her mouth and it’s delicious. She made cinnamon rolls and they were amazing! Looking back they were pretty fun to make too so she’s going to check baking off as her potential new hobby she’s already brainstorming what she can make next.
“Oh my god, Mel! I think you have two callings in life; emergency medicine and baking. This is the best dessert I’ve ever had.” He has frosting on his face and he’s already eaten a quarter of the giant roll. She takes the complaint and they finish the movie and treat in a comfortable silence, making little comments here and there. He doesn’t shush her like Becca would and she asks him follow up questions to his observations. It’s all so easy with him. She could do this forever. The credits roll and she doesn’t want him to leave.
“Do you want to make it a double feature? I’ll order us pizza for dinner. Any toppings you want.” It’s like he read her mind.
“Yes. I really do.” She feels her face break into a smile that rivals his, something warm blooms in her chest and she thinks she could live in this moment forever.
…
“So Jacob smells like a wet dog and Edward glitters in the sun? Of course she picks Edward!” When she had suggested they watched Twilight she had no idea just how engrossed he would get. He agreed a little reluctantly, but he was completely sucked in, giving her his theories and telling him that Rosalie and Emmett needed their own spin off movie, which she agreed with. Rosalie was her favorite character though so she was biased. They had gotten closer as the movie went on, first Frank sunk deeper into the couch extending his legs on the small ottoman, Becca used when she was building legs while she watched TV. Mel didn’t understand it, when there was a perfectly good coffee table she could use, but who was Mel to question Becca’s artistic process. Then Mel laid across the couch, her head resting on a throw pillow next to Langdon’s thigh. Which is how she had ended up with him playing with her hair, running his fingers through it and his nails gently rubbing her scalp. I felt like heaven.
Mel tried to stop all of the sighs she wanted to voice, and was mostly successful in her efforts. Except for one. She had let out a breath of pure satisfaction that had modified her to her core, but Langdon just repeated the movement. At some point she must have fallen asleep, because she feels him rubbing her arm, trying to wake her.
“Hey, honey.” She opens her eyes and looks up at him. He’s hunched over her, twisted to face her in a way that cannot be good for his back.
“Hm, sorry I fell asleep.” She sits up, rubbing the remainder of sleep from her eyes, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the lights.
“It’s no problem. Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest?” He asks.
“No, no, I want the pizza I was promised. Ham and sausage. Becca only ever lets us get pepperoni, this is my chance to have my favorite, I’m not wasting it.” She’s petulant when she’s tried and hopes she doesn’t sound too insane. He’s looking at her with a bemused smile so he must find her attitude ridiculous.
“As you wish, spidermonkey.” While her sleep fogged brain puts the joke together he has his phone out, calling in the order.
“Pizza’s going to take a while. Do you want to put on the next movie?”
“I don’t know, it’s very Jacob centered. Can you handle that?” She doesn’t want to start a movie he hates and risk him leaving. She wants him to stay forever.
“I think I'll manage.” He smiles and she starts the movie.
The pizza takes over an hour to get to them, but it’s still warm and the cheese pull is everything she wanted it to be. They put the box on the coffee table, tucking their legs under themselves so they can pull the table flush to the couch so they can eat it on the couch without plates. The thought process is absurd, but they go with it anyway. He hates New Moon, spends the whole movie complaining about Bella’s irrationality and Edward’s cowardice to leave her alone over a paper cut. Sure Jasper attacked her, but they knew he had terrible control! They could’ve worked through it. She listens with a smile on her face, hanging on his every word.
“The next one is my favorite in the series. It’s the best of the books too.” She tries tempting him to finish the series.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“I highlighted all of the Cullen siblings really well. Rosalie talks about her backstory.” He opens his mouth to respond, but his phone starts blasting Baby Shark. He holds up his hand for her to hold on while he fishes the phone from his pajamas pocket.
“Hi Tanner!” He says when he answers the facetime call. His eyes are alight and his smile is infectious.
“Daddy, I checked three books out of the library today. Look!” Tanner’s excited voice comes through the phone loud and passionately.
“Amazing, kiddo! Which one are you going to read first?”
“All of them!” Then Tanner and Frank break into laughter. Mel’s heart swells as she listens.
“Where’s your sister?”
“She fell asleep in the car. Mommy put her to bed.” Tanner fills his dad in. Frank checks his watch and whistles.
“It’s late, buddy. You need to go to bed too. Okay? I love you so much.”
“Love you too. Hang on, Mommy wants to talk to you.” There’s a bit of static through the phone as it’s passed to Abby.
“Frank, that’s not your apartment, there’s too much color. Where are you? Are you at Mel’s?” She hears Abby’s voice, it’s so smooth she could have a fortuitous career in narrating audiobooks if she wanted to. Her stomach starts to ache with guilt again, but they’re not married anymore so it fades just as quickly as it formed.
“Abby, stop it.” He has a warning tone she usually only hears when there’s a bilgerant person in the ED.
“Alright, touchy. I just wanted to confirm that you're taking the kids to the P-A-R-K tomorrow.” Abby laughs him off.
“Yes, I’ll be there at ten. I’ll make sure to feed them lunch before I drop them off.”
“Thank God, Trevor from work finally asked me out for coffee. We’re meeting at eleven. You know the worst part of our divorce is losing my built-in barista. Now I have to pay for my coconut water americanos. It’s a crime.”
“Truly devastating. I have to go now, but I do want to hear about the date when I drop the kids off.”
“Tell Mel I said hi!” Abby laughs as Langdon hangs up on her. He lets out a breath, running his hands through his hair.
“She's not surprised you’re here?” Mel says, before she can overthink it.
“Of course she's not. After my kids, you’re like the most important person in my life.” He’s looking her deep in the eye and she’s overwhelmed with the intensity of his gaze.
“Oh.” Is all she can think to say, until her brain reconnects and she quickly adds. “You’re important to me too. Really important.” He extends his hand, palm up, inviting her to hold his hand. She places her hand in his and he holds it tightly, like it’s grounding him.
“Would you like to come to the park with us tomorrow? I would love for you to meet my kids.”
“Can we get ice cream after?” She teases him.
“Oh they’re going to love you, sweetheart.” The endearment catches her off guard so she has to ask.
“Joke?” She tilts her head as she asks and his eyes go wide, he shakes his head.
“No. Never a joke. Not about something as important as this.” His thumb is rubbing the back of her hand soothing her worries, until she’s a ball of warmth under his touch. They sit in the glow of their new found feelings, until she yawns.
“I should go, it’s getting late.”
“But I don’t want you to Dr. Langdon.” She retorts. It sounds whiny to her own ears.
“What do I have to do to hear you call me Frank? I’d settle for hearing it just once, honey.” He lets go of her hand and cups her face. Then she does something she will blame solely on her altered state from lack of sleep until the end of her days. She leans in until their faces are breaths apart and says.
“Kiss me.” And he does. His lips meet hers in a kiss that is so chaste and full of adoration she could cry. It’s her perfect kiss. Light, loving, and with him. Too soon for her liking he pulls away. She tries to follow his lips, but he holds her back gently, still holding her face.
“I believe you owe me something.”
“Please, Frank.” Her voice cracks, she needs him to kiss her again more than she needs her next breath. He groans, but reconnects their lips, firmer this time. It’s still just as wonderful as the first time. Eventually they part for air, she’s blushing and he’s grinning like a man who’s won the lottery. He helps her put the coffee table back, and puts the leftover pizza in her fridge, even though she told him it was his pizza so he should take it home. Now they stand at her front door trying to get the courage to part from each other. He’s holding her in a soft embrace, his head on top of hers.
“I’ll be here at nine to pick you up. Can I bring you anything?” He asks into her hair. He seems to have a slight obsession with her hair she’s never noticed before.
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.” She feels his chuckle shake through him.
“Four hot chocolates, coming up. Hot chocolate and ice cream, are you trying to bribe my kids through me?”
“Maybe I just have the pallet of a kindergartner." She finally leaves his arms and opens the door for him.
“Goodnight, Frank. Text me when you get home.” He kisses the top of her head on his way out.
“Goodnight, spidermonkey.”