Finders Keepers

Rachel braved a glance at Carl across the table. Dinner on the terrace had begun with such promise. Just the two of them with a bottle of wine, candlelight and no grubs. Then somehow they went from blissful to cold.

"I’ve already said I’m sorry Carl. What else can I do to make things right?"

"Don’t go."

She didn’t like his tone. It reminded her of the bad times. "We’ve already discussed this darling, I have to go. There’s no way around it."

"There’s always a way. And I for one do not recollect a ‘discussion’." His jaw clenched with fury. "Send someone else."

"I can’t."

"Then delay it. We’ve already postponed the trip to the Keys for this business. I must say I question the importance of this particular man and his company to Cory."

"We need Bradley Bailey on our side. It is imperative and I don’t know how much plainer I can make it for you."

Carl stood. "Please, why don’t you try. After all, I’m not the man I once was. Perhaps a third time will be the charm."

Rachel counted to ten, then counted to ten again. "We’re not fighting tonight. First you’re going to walk along the lake with me. Then we check on the grubs, go back to our room and make love. Then, in the morning, I’m going to Chicago, alone, for two days." She stood at his back, careful not to touch him. "Please Carl, I don’t want to fight. Not tonight," she whispered. Nothing would be solved from the little cease-fire, but Rachel was tired of the silent argument that had been brewing between them since the Fling. They definitely would take care of this once she returned.

Carl held his ground for a minute more before relenting. "We need to finish this Rachel."

"My thoughts exactly. And we will, but calmly. Hey, if you’re lucky we’ll manage the getaway to the Keys next weekend. If you’re really lucky, I’ll pack the two-piece."

"No, if I’m really lucky you won’t take a bathing suit at all."

"In your dreams," Rachel laughed and led him to the path.

THE Next Morning

"Good morning."

Carl turned at the sound of her voice. "Good morning Jules. Would you like something for breakfast?"

"No thanks." She took in the kitchen table still strewn with dishes. "Why did you call so early?"

"Sorry I woke you."

"No problem." He was different this morning. Quieter. "Where is everyone?"

"Rachel’s leaving on a trip today. The grubs are waiting for me upstairs."

"Ah." Now she understood. Her favorite patient was having family trouble. "You’re first appointment with me is today."

"If you’ve yet to guess, I’m canceling."

"Carl!" She didn’t like the expression on his face. "Don’t be so childish."

"No use arguing with me. Come on, let’s go upstairs."

Resigning herself to his mood, Jules followed.

*)*(*

Rachel rushed around the living room making sure not to step on the grubs as they played on the floor.

"Mommy, look!" Elizabeth held something up for Rachel’s approval.

"Uh-huh, it’s very good sweetie. Now where’s my briefcase?" The unresolved argument with Carl still weighed on her thoughts, distracting her from getting out the door and to the airport.

"The library!" Rachel raced from the living room only to find the contents of case strewn all over the library's floor. She dropped to her knees and gathered a few of the sheets with a trembling hand. Crayon and jelly smudges covered the once pristine report. Fighting to control her temper, Rachel shoved everything she could find into the briefcase and stalked back to the grubs.

"Cory! Elizabeth!"

Their eyes widened as Rachel showed them the closed case. "How many times has Mommy told you to never, ever play with Mommy’s things?"

Her words came out with a little more force than she intended. When the tears began to flow she knew she’d made a mistake. "Forget it. It’s Daddy’s fault."

"What’s my fault?"

Rachel turned sharply to find Carl and Jules in the foyer entrance. "My, my, my. Is it Thursday already?"

"What’s the matter with you Rachel?"

"With me? All I ask is that you keep them occupied while I get ready, but NO, you couldn’t possibly do that." She opened the briefcase to show him the grub’s handiwork. "You complain about my working all the time, but you just aren’t there for me when I need you."

"Bringing your work home is your choice, not mine."

Rachel ignored his cool anger and Jules’ growing look of horror. "Well, I wasn’t the one who chose to hide his condition. I wasn’t the one who chose to run away. I wasn’t in on any of it, but I’m the one who was left to deal with the consequences." Rachel threw her hands up. "I don’t have time for either this or you. I’m late."

"Yes," Carl remarked as she gathered her things. "Leave before you say something you truly regret. Far be it from me to stem the mighty Cory tide."

The door slammed on his last words.

He went to the crying children. "I’m sorry you had to witness that little display of marital bliss Jules. Come with me little ones." He sat on the couch and rocked them until they calmed.

"M-m-m-mommy’s mad," Cory choked out around his tears.

"Yes she is, but she’s not mad at you or Elizabeth. She loves her grubs very much."
Elizabeth scrubbed her wet face against his shirt. "We made pictures for her to take with her."

"I know sweetheart. Mommy understands." He cradled them until their cries faded and they were asleep.

"We’ve never argued in front of them," he explained to a speechless Jules.

"I was under the impression the two of you never fought"

"No one is perfect, especially me." Carl placed his children on the couch. "Would you mind watching them for a little while? I feel the need for some air."

"Sure."

"I shan’t be long."

He practically ran from the house, leaving a bewildered Jules alone with her thoughts.

 *(*)*

The harder his head pounded, the farther his long strides carried him from the Cory mansion. This time he knew why the headache was there and he knew he’d keep it until things smoothed out with Rachel. If they could manage to make things right.

He stopped at the top of a small hill as the pain intensified. As always the throbbing threatened to overtake him. He’d gone far enough, it was time to return.

As he moved to retrace his steps, the pain knocked him to his knees and left him gasping. This pain was new. It felt as though someone was trying to pierce his skull with a sharp spike. He fell forward as wave after wave washed through his body. The stars behind his lids disappeared only to be replaced with familiar images.

"No," he whispered to the trees as he felt the spike slip through, sending him spiraling into unconsciousness.