Safe & Sound

Climbing up the steps of the flat building this afternoon is a bit difficult considering the heaps of bags in her arms. She tries to balance as her purse strap slips from her shoulder to the crook of her elbow. It’s bothersome, but she knows she's been through far worse than this when grocery shopping. On the landing, she struggles to fit the key into the lock and she can feel her patience beginning to wane, but thankfully there's someone behind the door now who saves her from having to struggle any longer.

''You should've called me from the car,'' Harry rushes to relieve her of the heavy brown bags, ''I would've come outside to help.''

''I forgot I could,'' she chuckles.

Together, they bring the items inside, although Harry carries most of them. It surprises her how easy he makes it look, as if there are merely feathers in each one.

''I bought everything the nurses suggested,'' she sighs when everything is sprawled onto the kitchen counter, ''Organic, clean, all-natural, nothing from a box besides the eggs.''

''Do you think she'll like it all?'' Harry asks, eyeing a bag of asparagus that he can't even imagine Addison eating despite how her doctors insist that she keeps a strict healthy diet during these last few weeks of her recovery. So far, she's been eating packaged meals from the hospital and the occasional bite of home cooked food mostly from Anne.

''She might not like it, but she'll eat it anyway without complaints. She's always been like that.''

He nods in understanding, proceeding to help her put the food away. Neither of them talk about how much it all cost, but in the back of her mind Kennedy knows the receipt in her pocket reads the highest amount she's ever spent. Harry makes it a point with her not to worry about it. Combined, they have more than enough, at least for the time being.

''Your dad called,'' he tells her when they're nearly finished, quietly so as not to wake Addison in the other room.

Kennedy's eyes widen. ''What? He called you?''

He nods. ''He actually told me not to tell you. Like that was going to happen.''

''What did he say?''

''He wants to have dinner tonight.''

It takes a moment for the information to settle and Kennedy sighs, motioning down at the food.

''Alright, we'll have to keep Addie here. She can't have outside food. Do you think your mum would want to babysit? I'm sure he'd want to see her but---''

''Kenn,'' Harry sighs, taking her hand. He doesn't look her in the eye and she knows what that means.

''Oh. Just you.''

''I have no idea why,'' he defends, ''He just said to meet him at this place downtown because he 'wants to talk.' I told him I was going to tell you. I don’t think he believed I would.”

Kennedy can't fight the quickness of her heart right now. The idea of Harry and her father alone in one room doesn't sit well.

''It'll be okay,'' she nods, mostly to persuade herself, ''Just try not to talk unless he asks you a question. Don't talk about politics. You can mention the wedding. He already knows. God, okay---Make sure you let him pay the bill because he feels insulted if---''

''I'm not afraid of him,'' he tells her honestly.

Even now, she wishes she could say such a thing. Even now that her relationship with her father is looking up, he's still Dr. Richard Ellis and Kennedy's still not sure if you can honestly teach an old dog new tricks.

''I'm just going to go there, hear what he has to say, and be done with it. It'll be fine.''

He brings the hand in his up to his lips and presses a kiss to it, knowing that its ring finger still needs to be taken care of.

''And if he tries to skin me alive, I'll call you,'' he smirks.

''That's not funny,'' she warns even though she's already laughing. ''Don't die, okay? I need you at the altar.''

He winks. ''I won't. You have my word.''



Upon entering the restaurant, Harry almost laughs to himself seeing that of course, Richard Ellis would pick something extravagant---this time, something French---and of course, everything on the menu will have a price tag to match. He takes solace in knowing that none of this rubbed off on Kennedy, although he knows he'd probably still love her just the same if it had.

When he finds the table and the man sitting at it in a suit, he's suddenly thankful that Kennedy made him wear this dress shirt, one of the more posh ones that he owns. Richard rises to shake his hand firmly.

''Harry,'' he greets, ''Pleasure to see you.''

Harry clears his throat. ''You as well, Dr. Ellis.''

''Please,'' Richard ushers to the chair closest to him, ''The waiter will be around shortly with the Chardonnay.''

Harry realizes he's a bit out of his league here because he has no idea what Chardonnay even tastes like. His French is rusty, but he manages to order something modest and earns the satisfaction of impressing his dinner partner. Such a feat was never possible before, even for the man's own daughter.

''So, Harry, how is Addison? Is her recovery running smoothly? Bone marrow transplants take quite some time to adjust to.''

''She's alright,'' Harry answers, ''She sleeps a lot, but we were told to expect that. We're thankful for anything better than it used to be, to be honest.''

Richard nods. ''Absolutely. I was surprised when Mrs. Cox---I’m sorry, your mother---told me about how quickly they released her from inpatient.”

“It’s Mrs. Twist now, actually” Harry smiles, receiving a pleasantly surprised expression in return.

“Ah, so she remarried. Good. I’m sure it’s not too late for a wedding present.”

Harry squints a bit. “A few years late, but it’s alright.”

He’s surprised that Dr. Ellis chuckles loudly. “Speaking of weddings, Kennedy called me yesterday. It appears that congratulations are in order.''

''Thank you, sir,” Harry smiles down at the napkin on his lap.

''I insisted that I help to pay for the wedding. Of course, she insisted against it. Ellis girls are quite stubborn, are they not?''

He chuckles, but Harry wonders how he could even know that considering how little time he spent with her.

''Do tell your mother thank you for planning the party,'' he continues, ''Being back in touch with Kennedy is comforting.''

''I will,'' Harry nods, ''How are things at the hospital?''

''Adequate, I'm told. I've been on leave since Rosetta passed.''

Harry worries he's stepped where he shouldn't step. ''I'm so sorry for your loss.''

Richard's eyes fall to his lap, but he nods in thanks for the condolence.

Some time passes in quiet. The low buzz of the restaurant is the only noise they hear for a short while until Harry neatly sets his fork down and crosses his hands.

''Dr. Ellis, can I ask something and get an honest answer?'' he asks.

Richard sees the seriousness in his eyes. ''Of course.''

''Why did you invite me over here?''

He looks across the table for merely a moment, but to Harry it feels like ages.

''I know you don't trust me, Harry,'' he tells him, ''I understand. I haven't been there for her as much as I should have been. But things are different now. I invited you here to tell you that you have my blessing. Although I know you don't need it; you two would marry despite it. But you have it.''

Out of habit, Harry looks for dishonesty. Some ounce of betrayal. It wouldn't be surprising. But he doesn't find any. Not yet, at least.

''Why not tell Kenn?'' he asks.

''I didn't want to worry her,'' Richard asks, almost amused, ''The concept of her fiancé and his future father-in-law together, conversing, must surely frighten her. At least that's how Rosetta was back in our days.''

Harry can almost smile because he's quite right.

''Well, thank you,'' he tells him, ''For the invite and for your blessing. It'll mean a lot to her.''

The waiter comes by to retrieve the empty plates of chateaubriand and coq au vin, relieving Harry because it means he's almost gotten through this meal and, surprisingly, he’s still alive.

''You have matured, Harold,'' Richard boasts as he pours himself another glass of wine, ''You've become quite a noble man for doing what you're doing.''

Harry's momentarily confused. ''Doing what I'm doing?''

''Certainly, anyone would say that taking responsibility for something you were never obligated to take responsibility of is a true mark of nobility.''

Instantly, Harry knows he means Addison and he's not quite okay with how he calls her a something.

''Kennedy came to you in need and you took in her child like she was your own.''

''She is my own,'' Harry corrects him, ''And even if she wasn't, I would still take her in, but not for 'nobility.'''

Richard is the one who seems confused now. ''Your mother told me she was ra---''

''She was,'' Harry doesn't want him to say the word, ''But Addison is biologically mine, not theirs.''

''So, you're doing this because it is the right thing to do, I take it.''

Now, Harry has to control the little bundle of anger building in his chest.

''I'm marrying your daughter because I love her. Why is that so hard to believe?''

It's obvious that such anger is also building in Richard.

''Because the circumstances are different now. I wasn't aware she was your child. I wasn't even aware that you two were sexually acti---''

''You weren't aware of a lot in her life, Dr. Ellis. With all due respect, this shouldn't change anything. She was still...raped and you still didn't believe her. And now you want to sit here and tell me that you only came back to mend things because you pitied her, and now that the truth isn't what you thought it was, you see her differently?''

''The circumstances are different,'' he repeats, ''I was told that---''

''The circumstances are still the bloody same. You know, for a second there, I actually believed you. I actually thought you were done hurting her and now you'd at least act like you love her instead of writing a check and hoping it takes care of it all. Are you sure you're not the one who stayed for her out of obligation?''

Dr. Ellis's eyes widen in surprise. ''How dare you insinuate such a thing.''

“How dare you treat her like this,” Harry spits, “You ruined her life.”

“I ruined her life? You’re the one who got her pregnant. If it wasn’t for you, she’d still be living in our house without the burden of having her own child. If it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have been friends with that sister of yours and she wouldn’t have gone to that godforsaken party of hers.”

“Because of me,” Harry repeats, almost amused but also in disbelief. He’s otherwise speechless towards all of what Richard Ellis has just said. ''Well, thank you very much for the company and pleasant conversation.'' His voice drips with sarcasm. ''If you'll excuse me, I have to get home.''

Harry opens his wallet to take out the money he needs to pay for his meal just to give the man the discomfort. Immediately after setting the bills on his placemat, he rises.

''And one more thing.'' He takes a step back. ''Don't ever call me Harold again.''



In all of his time spent in Kennedy's flat, he's never had a night when he couldn't sleep. Not like this. Every night, the comfort of knowing she's right beside him makes him welcome sleep easily. Knowing Addison isn't far either always gives him a peaceful night's rest. But tonight, he's wide awake. He stares up at the ceiling, replaying the words Dr. Ellis said this evening over and over in his mind. When he came home, he couldn't bear to tell Kennedy the truth about what happened. He doubts he'll ever tell her, especially after seeing the bright smile erupt on her face at the idea that the two of them got along. It just sickens him to think that her father could be so cruel. Harry can't even imagine doing such things to Addison.

Gently, careful not to wake the woman asleep beside him, he removes her arm from around his waist and separates from the duvet. He figures a drink of water may calm his anger enough to get some sleep.

Sitting at the dining room table, he knows that the best thing for them all is probably to pretend like last evening didn't happen. Maybe the illusion of a true relationship with her father is all Kennedy needs. Even if it's a lie and even if she knows it, at least she wouldn't be hurt.

An hour passes, maybe two, and he doesn't realize that Kennedy can tell when he's in bed and when he's not. She emerges in the hallway in her nightshirt, hair going in different directions but eyes alert.

He can't help but smile when he looks at her.

''You alright?'' she asks, concerned.

He nods, motioning to his glass and forgetting it's now empty and dry. ''Got thirsty.''

''Oh.'' He knows it's her grogginess that impedes her logic at the moment. If she were fully conscious, she'd take one look at that glass and know he's lying.

She begins to approach him and instinctively, he opens his arms, letting her take a seat upon his lap.

''Addie was so cranky while you were out,'' she tells him, ''Moaned and groaned for hours. She didn't even want Charlie.''

''I think she gets scared I won't come back.''

Kennedy tightens her grip on him. ''She has no reason to be.''

''I left twice,'' he remembers quietly, ''First, when you told me, and we all remember the second time.''

''There's a difference between leaving and not coming back. You always came back.''

He smiles, thinking her logic must be intact now.

''So did you.''

At the wrong time, she yawns. ''I was gone for much longer.''

''Four weeks, four years, what's the difference?''

''About a thousand days,'' she answers quietly, closing her eyes.

''Move in with me.''

She reopens her eyes to see him absolutely serious in front of her. “What?”

''We already live together,'' he points, ''And my flat's bigger. We can even make the storage into another bedroom for Addie. Just until we get settled and find a house, you know?''

With a smile, she rests the side of her face against his shoulder.

''Okay.''

''Well, that was easy. I should ask you important things in the middle of the night more often.''

She laughs sleepily. ''I love you, and I love that you had a good time with my dad.''

He intertwines his fingers with hers.

''Me, too, Kenn.''



To Addison, the sound of her mother's voice during her lullaby has always been flawless. But only recently has she discovered how that much more beautiful it sounds mixed with Harry's. She fights the sleep she desperately needs just to hear them sing like this for a bit longer.

Come morning, she's told that they won't be living in this flat anymore. They're moving somewhere else, somewhere bigger. Her immediate guess is the hospital, but her mother assures her that's not it. She's never known another home, but what she does know is that anywhere where her parents are, that's where she belongs as well.

''Are you going somewhere?'' Addison asks quietly when Harry comes into the kitchen, already dressed when she's so used to having breakfast with him in his pajamas.

''Yeah, but I'll be back,'' he smiles, looking around at the plate of organic, whole wheat pancakes and pitcher of manually squeezed orange juice on the counter that Kennedy woke up so early to prepare. ''Where's Mama?''

''She went to the bathroom,'' Addie answers, ''Where are you going? Can I go with you?''

His smile grows and he approaches her at the table. ''I'm going to see my mum. She has something for me that I'm going to pick up.''

''So, can I come?''

Remembering how Kennedy's warned against taking the child outside too much, he gives her bad news. ''Not this time, but maybe next time, okay?''

Her eyes fall. ''Okay.''

When he's about to lean down and attempt to cheer her up, her mother enters the room and grins at the pair.

''Morning,'' she greets on her way to the refrigerator, ''You starting your job hunt?''

''Yeah, just leaving now,'' answers Harry.

He doesn't ignore that Addison's already caught his lie. There's no way he's going on a job hunt at his mother's place and Addison is smart enough to see that something doesn't fit here.

''Good luck,'' Kennedy tells him, ''It's not easy.''

''I know. Hey,'' he turns to the child and looks her in the eye, winking just slightly. ''I love you.''

She doesn't even flinch, deciding that she trusts him enough not to mention anything. ''You, too, Daddy.''



''You think she's going to like it? Maybe I should just get a new one like I planned.''

He paces uncomfortably along the length of his mother's bedroom as she retrieves to the vanity, merely chuckling at his nerves.

''If she doesn't, you can do that,'' she advises him, ''But she will, so there's no need.''

''How do you know?''

Her fingers wrap around the tiny box and she rises to display it to him in the palm of his hand.

''Because it's one-of-a-kind,'' she answers, ''Just like her.''

With a trembling hand, he lifts the lid and sees an entirely new ring compared to the one he saw growing up.

''I took the diamond and had it put onto a matching band,'' she tells him with a smile, ''She'll like it.''

''You didn't have to do that.'' He can't pry his eyes away from how truly beautiful the piece is. He realizes he can't wait to see it on her finger.

Anne smiles warmly. ''When you give it to her, make sure you tell her the story behind it.''

''Don't you think you should?''

She shakes her head. ''This is your moment, love.''

He sees a sparkle in her eyes that he's never seen before. Maybe glimpses of it over the years, but never like this, and he knows that all of this makes her nearly as happy as it makes him.

''Thank you,'' he tells her honestly, ''For everything.''

For perhaps the millionth time throughout his life, she leans in to softly take hold of one cheek and kiss the other.

''It's my pleasure. Now, go back there and then call me after you do it because I want to know how it went, alright?''

He suddenly sees where Gemma gets it.

''Alright,'' he laughs, ''But I should probably wait a bit longer. She thinks I'm looking for a job.''

''You need a job?'' Anne creases her eyebrows together, ''Why didn't you tell me? Robin has---''

''No, no. I don't need a job. Well, not right now anyway. But she couldn't know I was coming here to get her engagement ring, could she?''

''You could have just said you were coming for a visit. What's she going to say when you come back with no job?''

''Something like 'it's alright, honey, you'll get it next time' most likely,'' he smirks.

Playfully, Anne smacks his shoulder.

''Go home to your girls,'' she laughs, ''And then call your mother.''

On his way out of the room and down the stairs, he chuckles and she scolds him for it. Before reaching the door, he spots his stepfather sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen. He greets him, but he says nothing more. Robin knows exactly why he's here and the reason behind his visit sits nicely in Harry's hand but uneasy in Robin's mind.

''Love you, Mum,'' he tells her in the doorway, kissing her cheek, ''And thank you again. You're the best.''

After merely brushing off the compliment, she waves adieu to her son and the family heirloom now resting in his pocket. In the depths of her heart, she hopes it will be given to Kennedy Ellis in love and that love won't ever be broken.

Harry drives back down towards the flat, unable to contain his smile even behind the wheel. He can't wait to see the look on her face when he shows it to her. He can't wait to see it finally on her finger, a symbol of everything they've been through and will continue to endure together in their lives. He sees it as a gateway to the future, something he thought he would never have, especially with her.

He considers stopping for a bouquet of roses or a box of chocolates. But he knows that Kennedy is beyond all of that. She doesn't need it. She'd probably just blush and stare down at her shoes like she always does, and he predicts she'll be embarrassed enough being presented with the ring so unexpectedly.

After pulling into the parking spot and double-checking that he has the precious cargo still hidden in his pocket, he exits the car. The walk up the stairs and through the landing is wobbly as he can barely feel his legs amidst his excitement.

He enters the flat with the spare key she gave him and is surprised when she isn't already at the door, waiting for him.

''Kenn?'' he calls out although quietly, thinking it must be so quiet because their daughter's asleep, ''I'm home.''

He sets his keys and wallet down onto the coffee table, but something bright on his phone catches him off guard. He reads a list of at least four missed calls from her and curses under his breath that he forgot to turn up the volume.

''You lied to me.''

Startled, he whips his head around and meets her stare. She’s standing feet from the bedroom door with her arms wrapped around her torso. She looks like someone he thought he'd said goodbye to long ago. Someone he didn't think and hoped would never return. But he can't pinpoint why she's returned.

''Sorry, my phone was on vibrate and I couldn't hear you call. Is everything---''

''You said everything went so well with my dad,'' Kennedy interrupts, her eyes glassy and disappointed, ''He called me and told me you walked out on him. You lied to me.''

Harry takes an unsteady breath. ''Kenn, you don't want to know what happened, okay? It's better that you don't know.''

''Is that what our lives are going to consist of, Harry? More lies?''

''I did it to save you from---''

''You even told me you were job hunting today. Who comes home from a job hunt in an hour?''

The ring box in his pocket begins to feel heavy.

''It was supposed to be a surprise,'' he says, delving in to get it, ''I went to my mum's for it and I didn't want to tell you.''

He displays it, still closed in the palm of his hand. He expects her to smile or lighten up her eyes, but she remains in a tortured frown and her pupils are wide.

Immediately, she does the last thing he thinks she'll do.

She breaks down into tears. Convulsing, hyperventilating tears.

''No, please don't cry.'' He rushes to approach her, but now he's worried. ''Why are you crying?''

She tries to talk, but her voice catches during each attempt and with each second that passes, it feels as if her sobbing worsens.

He realizes this must have less to do with what he thinks.

''I'm sorry,'' he pleads before her, ''I shouldn't have ever lied and I should have told you about your dad, but I was just trying to save you from getting hurt. Please, don't cry. I'll fix things. I’ll call him and I promise I'll---''

''Harry,'' she can finally make out, breathless and seemingly hopeless.

He was frantic before, thinking that this outburst was his fault, but now her weak stance is telling him it's more than that. She can barely keep her balance, trying not to collapse against him.

Barely, he talks in a whisper. ''What's happened?''

She's nearly inaudible when she says the words.

''Addie has a fever.''