Ok, these characters are property of Rupert Holmes, and I THINK AMC, but I'm not too positive about that by now. I'll just say that they are. I got this idea when I was watching On the Air all the way through for the first time (yes, that was today). I was very sick this morning, and one can do a lot when she stays home from school. Unfortunately, I didn't start this story until 11:30 p.m. and that causes some problems with the whole "sleeping" thing, but oh well. :) This takes place after Klondike 9366 and before The Emperor Smith.
The diner was warm and when Hilary stepped in, she removed her coat and placed it on the back of her chair. She ordered a coffee and sat there, absent-mindedly drumming her fingers on the counter while she waited for it. When it came, she just placed her fingers around the cup, drinking a little every now and then. Her mind was occupied and she found it hard to listen to the man behind the counter attempt to make pleasant conversation. On her fourth, "Mmm hmm" he gave up and left her alone.
She had had another fight with Jeff that day. It was about some small, silly thing that she couldn't remember. She usually forgot their arguments the second she stopped venting. It was mostly her theatrical instinct that made her announce any small problem for the whole world. Actors needed to be noticed—that was all there was to it. The new girl, Betsy—'No,' she told herself, 'Betty,'—was actually no threat to her. She knew that. If she had been, Hilary would have made sure she knew that she wasn't to come within fifteen feet of Jeffrey. Of course, the station wasn't too big, but she would have to manage, she smiled to herself. Now, Celia Mellon, on the other hand...
She groaned slightly and leaned her hand on her hand. Sometimes she couldn't believe what Jeffrey did to her. Not that she was incredibly kind to him, but at least she didn't flaunt men in front of him. But then when is there time to meet someone outside of the station? Somehow, Jeff found the time. He actually told Gertie who he was seeing for lunch.
She covered her face with both hands. She must have looked a dreadful sight—a woman sitting in a chair at the counter of a diner, an empty coffee cup next to her and she burying her face in her hands. She had no idea if people in the diner knew who she was, and for once she didn't care. Her thoughts always went back to Jeff and he was the one person that could make her forget her ego for at least a time. Why do we keep having these fights? she despaired. That annoying little voice that always seemed to haunt her when her self-esteem was low said Because you don't love each other any more and rather than face that, you cover it with marital spats. She tried to brush the voice away, but she couldn't—she didn't know how. Jeff and I...we... It was hard for her to say 'love each other' because it had been so long since either had mentioned that that it got hard to even think it. Actually, she wasn't sure if they DID love each other.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the man at the counter asking, somewhat brusquely, if she was going to order another cup of coffee or leave. She stared at him, handed him some money, picked up her coat and left.
The chill outside caught her unaware and she brought her coat tighter around herself. It at least kept her from depressing herself further, although she knew that once she got back home and she saw Jeff, she would spend a sleepless night in bed wondering about them. So, she started to wander into a park, but seeing some rough figures, she veered off. The last thing she needed that night was to get mugged. Just finish off my night with a bang! she told herself wryly. However, she, being only partially serious, told herself that if she were mugged that might at least make Jeff notice her more. That had happened once when she was careless while attempting to cook and had burned her hand. Not seriously, but Jeff was incredibly thoughtful around her for the next few days. We barely fought during that time, actually. Jeff always had a tendency to want to help things that were wounded. When they had met, she had needed emotional comfort and that was part of what had drawn him to her. Now, though, she had built walls around herself so high that it seemed she would never show raw emotion to him again. I'm just protecting myself, she argued. If he weren't so philandering, I wouldn't have to do that. Again, the nagging voice spoke But why did he start doing that in the first place?
Frankly, she wasn't sure he actually did go out with other women. She knew that he had lied on at least one occasion. He had practically announced he was going to see some secretary for lunch, but when Hilary went out, she saw him sitting by himself at O'Malley's. She generally didn't go there during the day, and he knew that. She had just been feeling despondent. He never knew that she saw him—she had turned around and left as soon as possible. "Of course, she was probably in the bathroom, powdering her delightful little nose," she said sarcastically, drawing the attention of one middle-aged man walking by.
By the time she had walked to their house, she wasn't sure if she was feeling better or worse about herself. She had given herself an equal dose of good and bad and now she was simply confused. But, not wanting to wake Jeff, she walked in quietly, locked the door behind her and hung up her coat. She debated on whether or not to stay downstairs, but her yawning helped her decide, and she walked upstairs, conscientiously avoiding the creaky step on the stairs. She was at the top of the stairs when she decided to look into Jeff's room. He slept in the guest room down the hall and she generally never went down there unless she possibly wanted to throw something at him, but this time she wanted to talk.
She walked down the hallway—almost turning back once, but stopping herself—and softly opened Jeff's door. She started to say something, but she shut her mouth when she saw him lying in bed asleep. She rarely saw him like that anymore, and it brought back memories to her that she had forgotten for the longest time. She went to the bed and gently say down, being careful not to wake him. He started to stir and she hesitantly put her hand on his forehead, smoothing back his dark hair. He eventually relaxed and looked content. She kept her hand there for a little bit longer, but finally removed it. She could talk to him tomorrow.
She got up and left, stealing one more look at Jeff before shutting the door and going to her room. Someday they would have to end up talking about this. She just didn't know when. She sighed as she changed into her nightgown and debated going into his room again and sliding in next to him, but she decided against it. They had too many things to work out first. So until then, she would simply wait for the two of them to grow up.
THE END
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