Sunday on a Saturday Afternoon - 17/20
The white envelope lay in the center of the coffee table, an innocent white rectangle that held either hope or despair, not that Addison wanted to be that dramatic. She stared at it, rubbing her hands together in anxiety.
---
Addison had always wanted a child. She had planned things out from the moment she had unwrapped her first baby doll on Christmas morning. After agonizing over a name for more than a week, she finally settled on Eloise, after her favorite child heroine.
Maybe now and then she would joke about a name like Carson, and how it could be both a name for a girl and for a boy, but in reality, she liked simple old-fashioned names. For a girl, the name Mary had a nice ring to it, and for a boy, Jack, after her father.
Addison had asked if Alex wanted to name their child after one of his parents, and he had ruefully shaken his head and told her that Jack and Mary were perfect names. Addison almost hoped for twins.
She started to get excited when she saw little baby booties in department stores, instead of the wistfulness that usually filled her thoughts at the sight of tiny clothing. Alex often told her not to get too enthusiastic as she wasn’t even pregnant yet. Addison would smile and rub her flat stomach, and he would catch her hands in his own, place a kiss on her forehead and whisper, “Soon.”
---
It was unassuming and Addison kept glancing at the clock to see just how late Alex was running. She was itching to open the envelope, and cursed the promise to wait for him.
---
Alex did not have any issue with trying to get Addison pregnant. Besides her job and their relationship, it was one of the most important things in her life, and it meant a lot of sex for Alex. She managed to take some of the romance out of it by spouting fertility statistics at him, but he was able to tune that out for the most part.
Their bathroom was no longer stocked with the best condoms money could buy, but instead ovulation sticks and pregnancy tests, which Alex left alone. Addison’s nightstand was stocked with books covering the best ways to get pregnant, which, Alex pointed out, were probably full of things that Addison already knew anyway. “I just want to make sure,” she would tell him, before returning to her book.
---
Her apartment building was not particularly loud, but every bump and sound made her look towards the door, expecting to see Alex come through it. He doesn’t, and it’s heading towards thirty minutes past the time he was expected.
---
Alex made it clear that he didn’t want to show favoritism towards either gender and banned anything in baby pink or baby blue from entering their apartment. He gave Addison the choice between light green or yellow, two colors that assumed neither sex. Addison chose green, and Alex was positive it was because it matched her coloring better. She just said it reminded her of spring without reminding her of Easter, and spring was a season she liked.
Alex secretly did have names picked out. He knew that the name of their child would be far more important to Addison than it would be to him, but he couldn’t help but wish that there could be a little Max or Eva Montgomery-Karev in the world. Maybe if Addison could pull off quadruplets.
Babies terrified him a little bit. Every day he worked with small children that couldn’t breathe or had organs that weren’t functioning well. He met mothers who hadn’t meant to get pregnant or who didn’t seem like they should be trusted with an infant. As much as he tried to convinced himself that any baby he and Addison brought into the world would be the perfect specimen of a child, there was the fear that he would have to rush little Jack or Mary into surgery as soon as Addison pushed it out.
---
The door opened, and Alex walked in, his posture screaming that he was exhausted and tired and wanted nothing more than to slump on the couch with a beer. Addison twisted her fingers nervously, and he met her eyes, pleading for a few minutes of peace before they opened the envelope.
---
Addison asked Alex what his favorite childhood memory was, growing up. He didn’t want to tell her that beating the shit out of his father had been a highlight, so he related the memory of a morning that his father had been out of town, and his mother had gotten it into her head to bake cookies. He had a long walk to the bus stop in those days, and she had handed him a fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookie to carry in his mittened hand for the journey. Addison set about trying to find the best chocolate chip recipe, asking all of the employees of Seattle Grace. Nurse Tyler surprised everyone by having better cookies than Izzie Stevens.
Addison’s favorite moment as a young girl had been the day she was home sick, and her father had taken the day off to stay with her. He let her choose a book off of one of his shelves, and tucked her into his bed and read aloud from Gone with the Wind until she fell asleep, a small trail of drool staining the pillowcase. She had woken hours later to find his arm still curved around her, his head drooping in sleep. Alex heard the story and looked for bookcases at IKEA for their child’s room.
---
Addison offered him a few moments of respite. He hung up his coat and sorted through the mail. Everything he did before joining her on the couch seemed like it took a year, and Addison was sure that she had aged a great deal from the wait.
---
Because they were both doctors and because Addison had books and because they weren’t having any luck, Alex made the unfortunate suggestion that they visit one of the fertility specialists at Seattle Grace. Addison had been insulted at first, at the idea that she, a board certified OB/GYN, would need help fertilizing her eggs. Alex just did his best to convince her that it was just a precaution. He suggested that it might be his fault that nothing was happening, pregnancy-wise, and Addison took comfort in that.
So they were tested. And Addison knew that it took a while for results to come out, and she had insisted that the results get mailed, so that she and Alex could find out simultaneously. If the news was good, she would want him there to celebrate. If it was bad, she would want him there to hold her hand. Alex felt the same way; Addison should be there for his relief and excitement as well as for his disappointment. They were in this together.
---
Butterflies filled Addison’s stomach as Alex sat next to her, his thigh touching hers. She picked up the envelope, her hand shaking, and sucked in her breath. Using her forefinger, she opened it and unfolded the paper slowly. Alex leaned in to read over her shoulder.
Her face crumpled, her hand went limp. Turning away from Alex, she let the paper fall back to the table, no longer a signal of hope or possibility. He did the only thing he could think of, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly, his chest to her back. She gripped his arms, the strength of her hold on him making him grimace. He felt such frustration and regret for a child that wouldn’t ever be.
“We could always -” he started, and Addison coldly cut in, “No.” He felt her body shiver with the effort of keeping herself together and pressed his face into her hair. “We’ll be all right,” he whispered, hoping that was one promise he could keep. They sat that way for a long time, not moving, not speaking, the only sound shuddering breaths and fragmented sighs.
[ Chapter Eighteen]
---
Addison had always wanted a child. She had planned things out from the moment she had unwrapped her first baby doll on Christmas morning. After agonizing over a name for more than a week, she finally settled on Eloise, after her favorite child heroine.
Maybe now and then she would joke about a name like Carson, and how it could be both a name for a girl and for a boy, but in reality, she liked simple old-fashioned names. For a girl, the name Mary had a nice ring to it, and for a boy, Jack, after her father.
Addison had asked if Alex wanted to name their child after one of his parents, and he had ruefully shaken his head and told her that Jack and Mary were perfect names. Addison almost hoped for twins.
She started to get excited when she saw little baby booties in department stores, instead of the wistfulness that usually filled her thoughts at the sight of tiny clothing. Alex often told her not to get too enthusiastic as she wasn’t even pregnant yet. Addison would smile and rub her flat stomach, and he would catch her hands in his own, place a kiss on her forehead and whisper, “Soon.”
---
It was unassuming and Addison kept glancing at the clock to see just how late Alex was running. She was itching to open the envelope, and cursed the promise to wait for him.
---
Alex did not have any issue with trying to get Addison pregnant. Besides her job and their relationship, it was one of the most important things in her life, and it meant a lot of sex for Alex. She managed to take some of the romance out of it by spouting fertility statistics at him, but he was able to tune that out for the most part.
Their bathroom was no longer stocked with the best condoms money could buy, but instead ovulation sticks and pregnancy tests, which Alex left alone. Addison’s nightstand was stocked with books covering the best ways to get pregnant, which, Alex pointed out, were probably full of things that Addison already knew anyway. “I just want to make sure,” she would tell him, before returning to her book.
---
Her apartment building was not particularly loud, but every bump and sound made her look towards the door, expecting to see Alex come through it. He doesn’t, and it’s heading towards thirty minutes past the time he was expected.
---
Alex made it clear that he didn’t want to show favoritism towards either gender and banned anything in baby pink or baby blue from entering their apartment. He gave Addison the choice between light green or yellow, two colors that assumed neither sex. Addison chose green, and Alex was positive it was because it matched her coloring better. She just said it reminded her of spring without reminding her of Easter, and spring was a season she liked.
Alex secretly did have names picked out. He knew that the name of their child would be far more important to Addison than it would be to him, but he couldn’t help but wish that there could be a little Max or Eva Montgomery-Karev in the world. Maybe if Addison could pull off quadruplets.
Babies terrified him a little bit. Every day he worked with small children that couldn’t breathe or had organs that weren’t functioning well. He met mothers who hadn’t meant to get pregnant or who didn’t seem like they should be trusted with an infant. As much as he tried to convinced himself that any baby he and Addison brought into the world would be the perfect specimen of a child, there was the fear that he would have to rush little Jack or Mary into surgery as soon as Addison pushed it out.
---
The door opened, and Alex walked in, his posture screaming that he was exhausted and tired and wanted nothing more than to slump on the couch with a beer. Addison twisted her fingers nervously, and he met her eyes, pleading for a few minutes of peace before they opened the envelope.
---
Addison asked Alex what his favorite childhood memory was, growing up. He didn’t want to tell her that beating the shit out of his father had been a highlight, so he related the memory of a morning that his father had been out of town, and his mother had gotten it into her head to bake cookies. He had a long walk to the bus stop in those days, and she had handed him a fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookie to carry in his mittened hand for the journey. Addison set about trying to find the best chocolate chip recipe, asking all of the employees of Seattle Grace. Nurse Tyler surprised everyone by having better cookies than Izzie Stevens.
Addison’s favorite moment as a young girl had been the day she was home sick, and her father had taken the day off to stay with her. He let her choose a book off of one of his shelves, and tucked her into his bed and read aloud from Gone with the Wind until she fell asleep, a small trail of drool staining the pillowcase. She had woken hours later to find his arm still curved around her, his head drooping in sleep. Alex heard the story and looked for bookcases at IKEA for their child’s room.
---
Addison offered him a few moments of respite. He hung up his coat and sorted through the mail. Everything he did before joining her on the couch seemed like it took a year, and Addison was sure that she had aged a great deal from the wait.
---
Because they were both doctors and because Addison had books and because they weren’t having any luck, Alex made the unfortunate suggestion that they visit one of the fertility specialists at Seattle Grace. Addison had been insulted at first, at the idea that she, a board certified OB/GYN, would need help fertilizing her eggs. Alex just did his best to convince her that it was just a precaution. He suggested that it might be his fault that nothing was happening, pregnancy-wise, and Addison took comfort in that.
So they were tested. And Addison knew that it took a while for results to come out, and she had insisted that the results get mailed, so that she and Alex could find out simultaneously. If the news was good, she would want him there to celebrate. If it was bad, she would want him there to hold her hand. Alex felt the same way; Addison should be there for his relief and excitement as well as for his disappointment. They were in this together.
---
Butterflies filled Addison’s stomach as Alex sat next to her, his thigh touching hers. She picked up the envelope, her hand shaking, and sucked in her breath. Using her forefinger, she opened it and unfolded the paper slowly. Alex leaned in to read over her shoulder.
Her face crumpled, her hand went limp. Turning away from Alex, she let the paper fall back to the table, no longer a signal of hope or possibility. He did the only thing he could think of, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly, his chest to her back. She gripped his arms, the strength of her hold on him making him grimace. He felt such frustration and regret for a child that wouldn’t ever be.
“We could always -” he started, and Addison coldly cut in, “No.” He felt her body shiver with the effort of keeping herself together and pressed his face into her hair. “We’ll be all right,” he whispered, hoping that was one promise he could keep. They sat that way for a long time, not moving, not speaking, the only sound shuddering breaths and fragmented sighs.
[ Chapter Eighteen]