Status: active
Getting Caught in the Rain
9
That night, Harry arrives at the pub and finds the rest of his friends already sitting at a table, waiting for him. "Lads," he greets them as he pulls up a chair.
"You're late, Styles, where've you been?" his friend Nick demands.
He shrugs. "I dunno. Lost track of time, I guess."
He doesn't mean to sound hostile, but apparently he does, because Nick raises his eyebrows. "What's going on with you, then?"
"Oh boy," Niall says under his breath before Harry can answer. To Nick, he says, "Haz is all inconsolable because Olivia's gone for the weekend. He always gets like this whenever she goes to stay with Cara."
"Shut it," Harry gripes even though it's true. "I'm allowed to miss my daughter."
"How is Olivia?" Nick asks. "She's in school now, isn't she?" His extremely tall quiff wobbles slightly as he speaks. Louis is watching it with amusement.
Harry nods. "Yep. She's in Year 1 now."
"Does she like it?"
"She loves it."
"Of course she does," Louis scoffs. "She doesn't have to learn any maths, does she? The Quadratic Formula doesn't come until Year 11 at least."
Harry rolls his eyes. "She's four. She likes everything."
"Being four has nothing to do with it," Zayn says, grinning. "Olivia just genuinely loves everything." He's got a point. Olivia could find something wonderful about even the worst people in the world. Harry isn't sure if that's good or bad.
"Yeah," Louis agrees. "She likes Nick, for example."
"Stuff it, Tomlinson," Nick grumbles while Niall, Liam, Zayn, and Harry all snicker. Louis and Nick have that sort of love-hate-but-mostly-hate relationship going on. Zayn's always saying it's because they're both humongous dicks.
Liam takes a sip of his drink, and then his eyes widen as he looks over Harry's shoulder. "Whoa."
"Careful, Payno, Sophia's waiting for you at home," Zayn warns, amused. Liam hits him lightly on the arm, rolling his eyes.
"That's not it. Harry, isn't that Caroline over there by the bar?"
"Who's that? A secret lover?" Nick asks.
"Nah, that's Olivia's nanny. Harry pretends he doesn't think she's foxy," Niall fills him in. Harry's too busy swiveling in his seat to chastise him. Sure enough, Caroline is standing there by the bar, talking to the bartender, a girl in her mid-twenties with bright red hair and thick eyeliner.
"That dress is very form-fitting," Nick observes. It is.
"I suppose," Harry says, trying not to stare. He's never seen Caroline in anything except jeans and a t-shirt. But now she's standing there in a black dress and heels and red lipsick, for God's sake. He looks down at himself, in his white button-up and dress pants, and feels insanely stupid. As usual.
"We should call her over," Louis says, and before anyone can do anything, he's cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Caroline! CAROLINE!"
Caroline stops mid-conversation and looks around, her eyes finally landing on Harry, who waves meekly. She smiles and then, to his horror, begins to make her way over. "You idiot," he hisses to Lou, who looks pleased. "She's coming over here."
"Good," Louis says, rolling his eyes.
"Hi, Harry," a voice says behind him, and oh, shit. He turns and smiles at Caroline. "Hi boys," she adds.
"Hello," Harry says. "Fancy seeing you here."
She laughs a little. "Yeah, my friend Alicia is the bartender, so I just thought I'd come out and keep her company, have a night out for once. How are you holding up?" She directs the question at Harry.
He's confused. "Me?"
"Yeah," she nods, a small smile quirking her lips. "You know, with Olivia being gone and all."
Behind him, his friends cackle. Harry does his best to laugh. "Oh, you know. Hanging in there."
"Well, don't just stand there," Niall says once he's caught his breath. "Pull up a chair! Have a drink with us!"
"Oh," Caroline hesitates. "I'm not sure that would be, er, appropriate . . . " She glances at Harry.
Nick kicks Harry under the table. Harry says quickly, "Oh, no, I don't mind, really, I insist, stay, please."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh, yeah, positive. Unless you're, er, waiting for a friend or a boyfriend or something."
Caroline looks vaguely amused. "No, no boyfriend."
Louis snorts. Harry tries not to feel flushed as he says, "Oh, all right, well go on." He motions for her to sit down, so she does. Liam slides a drink over to her.
"So, Caroline, where are you from?"
As the night wears on, Caroline loosens up more and more, and Harry discovers that she's actually incredibly funny. She's attentive, too, listening closely to every drunken story Niall tells, even if they're just plain stupid.
They're all laughing, and before they know it, Zayn is reenacting some silly conversation he had with a student today, and Liam and Louis are attempting to sing along with the karaoke music playing overhead, and Niall is attempting to measure Nick's quiff, and Caroline is there beside him, warm and steady.
It's the best night he's had in a while, and he forgets to miss Olivia.
* * *
Harry wakes up the next morning a) with a hangover, and b) on somebody's couch. It takes him a moment to realize that he's not even in his own home. He's in an unfamiliar flat in who-knows-where. His keys and his phone are on the table next to him, though, and his shoes are neatly lined up on the floor, so he hasn't been kidnapped.
He sits up, ignoring the headache, and realizes that somebody put a soft blue blanket over him. The apartment is decorated with lots of pastel colors. Where the fuck is he?
He racks his brain and vaguely remembers leaving the club with Caroline and the boys and watching the five of them yell their good-byes and being left alone with her. He remembers walking with her in the darkened streets, saying how much he hates being home alone without his daughter, and Caroline telling him, her words slightly slurred together, "Come crash on my couch, it'll be fine."
He remembers sitting at the kitchen table with her, drinking wine and talking about how hard it was when Olivia was first born and Cara had left for London, how difficult it was to finish school with a baby and how stressed and scared he was (and still is).
Suddenly, there's a noise coming from the kitchen. Harry peeks in and sees Caroline standing at the stove, wearing a white t-shirt and cropped yoga pants, a pair of black frames perched on her nose.
He clears his throat and she looks over at him. She doesn't seem surprised, so that can only mean she remembers she offered to let him crash. "Hi," she says.
"Um, hi."
"I made banana pancakes. Do you want some?"
He knows this probably should not be happening, but he really does like bananas. "Okay. Sure." He stands up, stretching, and goes into the kitchen, sitting at the table. Caroline sets the pancakes down and pours him a cup of coffee.
"So, did you sleep okay?" she asks once they start to eat.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I slept fine. Thanks."
"No problem." She swallows. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I was probably a bit drunk, and offering to let you crash on my couch wasn't the best decision. I hope I don't seem unprofessional."
"No, no, of course not. I was drunk enough to accept it," he assures her. "If anything, I'm the unprofessional one." She laughs a little.
"It wasn't a bad night, though, was it?"
"Not at all," Harry agrees. "My friends like you a lot."
"That's good. They all seem very nice." Caroline smiles. "Niall kept saying something about me being foxy, though, which I didn't really understand . . ."
"Oh, God. Ignore him. He's weird."
She laughs. "Okay. Well, I'm glad they all accepted me. Louis especially seemed kind of iffy about me, so it's good that he loosened up, I guess."
"Oh, yeah," Harry says. He's not sure he should be telling this story, but it's just Caroline, sitting across from him and slowly chewing every bite of pancake she takes. "Yeah, Louis is Olivia's godfather."
"Really? I thought it would be someone like Zayn," Caroline says. "Not that Louis isn't great, but I just figured it would be someone more . . . responsible."
Harry snorts. "I suppose so. But ever since we met, Louis has always been kind of protective over Olivia. He feels kind of a connection with her, if you want to call it that. His dad walked out on him and his mother when he was a baby, and, you know, Cara fucked off to London when Olivia was like, six months. And even though they still see each other, I don't really think they have a relationship? Like a real one? Because Cara only sees her four days a month, and even then she sometimes goes away for shows and doesn't come back for like, months." He shrugs. "Louis just has always tried to be there for her whenever Cara wasn't."
Caroline has a little smile on her face. "That's sweet."
"Yeah. I mean, all of the boys are great, but Louis especially is like her big brother. She copies everything he does and says. He thinks it's great."
The two of them finish their breakfast and chat for a little more, until Harry says, "Well, I should probably go home and shower and then call Olivia."
"When is she coming home?"
"Around 5."
"Ah." Caroline stands as he collects his things, and then walks over to the door and opens it for him.
"Well, thanks for letting me crash," Harry says, grinning. "And for the pancakes."
"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay. Bye." Before he loses his nerve, he reaches out and gives her a one-armed hug, feeling relieved when she doesn't fight it. She smiles at him briefly before closing the door, and if Harry leaves the building with a small spring in his step, no one has to know.
"You're late, Styles, where've you been?" his friend Nick demands.
He shrugs. "I dunno. Lost track of time, I guess."
He doesn't mean to sound hostile, but apparently he does, because Nick raises his eyebrows. "What's going on with you, then?"
"Oh boy," Niall says under his breath before Harry can answer. To Nick, he says, "Haz is all inconsolable because Olivia's gone for the weekend. He always gets like this whenever she goes to stay with Cara."
"Shut it," Harry gripes even though it's true. "I'm allowed to miss my daughter."
"How is Olivia?" Nick asks. "She's in school now, isn't she?" His extremely tall quiff wobbles slightly as he speaks. Louis is watching it with amusement.
Harry nods. "Yep. She's in Year 1 now."
"Does she like it?"
"She loves it."
"Of course she does," Louis scoffs. "She doesn't have to learn any maths, does she? The Quadratic Formula doesn't come until Year 11 at least."
Harry rolls his eyes. "She's four. She likes everything."
"Being four has nothing to do with it," Zayn says, grinning. "Olivia just genuinely loves everything." He's got a point. Olivia could find something wonderful about even the worst people in the world. Harry isn't sure if that's good or bad.
"Yeah," Louis agrees. "She likes Nick, for example."
"Stuff it, Tomlinson," Nick grumbles while Niall, Liam, Zayn, and Harry all snicker. Louis and Nick have that sort of love-hate-but-mostly-hate relationship going on. Zayn's always saying it's because they're both humongous dicks.
Liam takes a sip of his drink, and then his eyes widen as he looks over Harry's shoulder. "Whoa."
"Careful, Payno, Sophia's waiting for you at home," Zayn warns, amused. Liam hits him lightly on the arm, rolling his eyes.
"That's not it. Harry, isn't that Caroline over there by the bar?"
"Who's that? A secret lover?" Nick asks.
"Nah, that's Olivia's nanny. Harry pretends he doesn't think she's foxy," Niall fills him in. Harry's too busy swiveling in his seat to chastise him. Sure enough, Caroline is standing there by the bar, talking to the bartender, a girl in her mid-twenties with bright red hair and thick eyeliner.
"That dress is very form-fitting," Nick observes. It is.
"I suppose," Harry says, trying not to stare. He's never seen Caroline in anything except jeans and a t-shirt. But now she's standing there in a black dress and heels and red lipsick, for God's sake. He looks down at himself, in his white button-up and dress pants, and feels insanely stupid. As usual.
"We should call her over," Louis says, and before anyone can do anything, he's cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Caroline! CAROLINE!"
Caroline stops mid-conversation and looks around, her eyes finally landing on Harry, who waves meekly. She smiles and then, to his horror, begins to make her way over. "You idiot," he hisses to Lou, who looks pleased. "She's coming over here."
"Good," Louis says, rolling his eyes.
"Hi, Harry," a voice says behind him, and oh, shit. He turns and smiles at Caroline. "Hi boys," she adds.
"Hello," Harry says. "Fancy seeing you here."
She laughs a little. "Yeah, my friend Alicia is the bartender, so I just thought I'd come out and keep her company, have a night out for once. How are you holding up?" She directs the question at Harry.
He's confused. "Me?"
"Yeah," she nods, a small smile quirking her lips. "You know, with Olivia being gone and all."
Behind him, his friends cackle. Harry does his best to laugh. "Oh, you know. Hanging in there."
"Well, don't just stand there," Niall says once he's caught his breath. "Pull up a chair! Have a drink with us!"
"Oh," Caroline hesitates. "I'm not sure that would be, er, appropriate . . . " She glances at Harry.
Nick kicks Harry under the table. Harry says quickly, "Oh, no, I don't mind, really, I insist, stay, please."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh, yeah, positive. Unless you're, er, waiting for a friend or a boyfriend or something."
Caroline looks vaguely amused. "No, no boyfriend."
Louis snorts. Harry tries not to feel flushed as he says, "Oh, all right, well go on." He motions for her to sit down, so she does. Liam slides a drink over to her.
"So, Caroline, where are you from?"
As the night wears on, Caroline loosens up more and more, and Harry discovers that she's actually incredibly funny. She's attentive, too, listening closely to every drunken story Niall tells, even if they're just plain stupid.
They're all laughing, and before they know it, Zayn is reenacting some silly conversation he had with a student today, and Liam and Louis are attempting to sing along with the karaoke music playing overhead, and Niall is attempting to measure Nick's quiff, and Caroline is there beside him, warm and steady.
It's the best night he's had in a while, and he forgets to miss Olivia.
* * *
Harry wakes up the next morning a) with a hangover, and b) on somebody's couch. It takes him a moment to realize that he's not even in his own home. He's in an unfamiliar flat in who-knows-where. His keys and his phone are on the table next to him, though, and his shoes are neatly lined up on the floor, so he hasn't been kidnapped.
He sits up, ignoring the headache, and realizes that somebody put a soft blue blanket over him. The apartment is decorated with lots of pastel colors. Where the fuck is he?
He racks his brain and vaguely remembers leaving the club with Caroline and the boys and watching the five of them yell their good-byes and being left alone with her. He remembers walking with her in the darkened streets, saying how much he hates being home alone without his daughter, and Caroline telling him, her words slightly slurred together, "Come crash on my couch, it'll be fine."
He remembers sitting at the kitchen table with her, drinking wine and talking about how hard it was when Olivia was first born and Cara had left for London, how difficult it was to finish school with a baby and how stressed and scared he was (and still is).
Suddenly, there's a noise coming from the kitchen. Harry peeks in and sees Caroline standing at the stove, wearing a white t-shirt and cropped yoga pants, a pair of black frames perched on her nose.
He clears his throat and she looks over at him. She doesn't seem surprised, so that can only mean she remembers she offered to let him crash. "Hi," she says.
"Um, hi."
"I made banana pancakes. Do you want some?"
He knows this probably should not be happening, but he really does like bananas. "Okay. Sure." He stands up, stretching, and goes into the kitchen, sitting at the table. Caroline sets the pancakes down and pours him a cup of coffee.
"So, did you sleep okay?" she asks once they start to eat.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I slept fine. Thanks."
"No problem." She swallows. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I was probably a bit drunk, and offering to let you crash on my couch wasn't the best decision. I hope I don't seem unprofessional."
"No, no, of course not. I was drunk enough to accept it," he assures her. "If anything, I'm the unprofessional one." She laughs a little.
"It wasn't a bad night, though, was it?"
"Not at all," Harry agrees. "My friends like you a lot."
"That's good. They all seem very nice." Caroline smiles. "Niall kept saying something about me being foxy, though, which I didn't really understand . . ."
"Oh, God. Ignore him. He's weird."
She laughs. "Okay. Well, I'm glad they all accepted me. Louis especially seemed kind of iffy about me, so it's good that he loosened up, I guess."
"Oh, yeah," Harry says. He's not sure he should be telling this story, but it's just Caroline, sitting across from him and slowly chewing every bite of pancake she takes. "Yeah, Louis is Olivia's godfather."
"Really? I thought it would be someone like Zayn," Caroline says. "Not that Louis isn't great, but I just figured it would be someone more . . . responsible."
Harry snorts. "I suppose so. But ever since we met, Louis has always been kind of protective over Olivia. He feels kind of a connection with her, if you want to call it that. His dad walked out on him and his mother when he was a baby, and, you know, Cara fucked off to London when Olivia was like, six months. And even though they still see each other, I don't really think they have a relationship? Like a real one? Because Cara only sees her four days a month, and even then she sometimes goes away for shows and doesn't come back for like, months." He shrugs. "Louis just has always tried to be there for her whenever Cara wasn't."
Caroline has a little smile on her face. "That's sweet."
"Yeah. I mean, all of the boys are great, but Louis especially is like her big brother. She copies everything he does and says. He thinks it's great."
The two of them finish their breakfast and chat for a little more, until Harry says, "Well, I should probably go home and shower and then call Olivia."
"When is she coming home?"
"Around 5."
"Ah." Caroline stands as he collects his things, and then walks over to the door and opens it for him.
"Well, thanks for letting me crash," Harry says, grinning. "And for the pancakes."
"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay. Bye." Before he loses his nerve, he reaches out and gives her a one-armed hug, feeling relieved when she doesn't fight it. She smiles at him briefly before closing the door, and if Harry leaves the building with a small spring in his step, no one has to know.
