Part I: Before I Gaze at You Again
Disclaimer: Is it my fault that AMC doesn't take these characters off
the shelf long enough to play with them? No, it is not. AMC owns
these characters; I'm just having some fun! The subtitle is from the
musical `Camelot' (Before I Gaze…)
~ * ~ *~ *
Before I gaze at you again
I'll need a time for tears
Before I gaze at you again
Let hours turn to years.
I have so much forgetting to do
Before I try to gaze again at you.
-Before I Gaze At You Again
~ * ~ *~ *
Friday, November 7, 2003 – 10.56 pm
Upon retrospect, Liza Colby thought to herself as she sped
away from SOS, perhaps that was not the most tactful approach to
wooing Tad Martin. But, she reconsidered, a smile slowly spreading
across her lips and a blush creeping to her cheeks – it was amazing.
Meanwhile, at SOS, you could find a very astonished Tad Martin
surrounded by the Fusion females in full force; Greenlee, Simone, and
Mia as well as a very determined Krystal – who had an inkling that
this next conquest would prove to be a bigger challenge than
originally anticipated.
The evening did not start off as frenzied as it ended – until a mere
20 minutes ago, the night was going rather well. The Fusion group
gathered together for a pre-planning toast – with the Sexiest Man in
America contest wrapping up, and their summer/fall colours out in the
marketplace, the ladies had to plan the promotions for their upcoming
winter collection. A simple night of drinks and gossip before the
work began Monday morning. Or at least it was, until Tad Martin
entered, with a woman on his arm.
Now, it wouldn't have been so awkward – if the moment the twosome
chose to walk in, mid-snuggle, hadn't been the exact moment Liza
chose to look up from the table and lock eyes with him. This sight,
a slap to Liza's face, the salt in her wound that stung even more
than the Simone ordeal – silenced her mid sentence, which led the
entire table to look up expectantly at the two, leaving Tad no choice
but to introduce his date to the table of women smirking at them.
The five minutes it took for Tad to lead their way through the Friday
night crush of people was five minutes of furtive glances and catty
comments behind closed, grinning teeth between the w omen. "Oh my
God -" Simone began, "Does anyone know who she is?"
"Did anyone know she even existed?" Greenlee asked "Where did he find
her?"
"I didn't know he was dating anyone! I swear – take every male
stereotype…" Mia trailed off, shooting a sympathetic look in her
sister's direction, and raising the timbre of her voice, "Hey Tad,
fancy meeting you here - who's your friend?"
"Ladies, this is Krystal Danner. Her daughter and Jamie go to PVU
together."
"Hi – nice to meet you all." Krystal smiled. On the whole, she was
not an unattractive woman; long dark hair, fair skin, chocolate eyes –
and there was nothing in the six words she had spoken, but – there
was a definite chill in her demeanor felt by the entire table.
"Mmmm, the PTA's friendlier since our day, is it?" Liza shot up at
Tad, the bitterness in her voice double-edged, matching the daggers
she shot out from her eyes.
"Yeah," he began, "It's their new slogan." He laughed and began to
introduce the table to Krystal "This is Simone, Greenlee, Mia and Li-
za" This final introduction was interrupted by the woman in question
with her hasty and wordless retreat to the bar.
And so this was the scene for the next 15 minutes, Liza at the bar,
nursing her glass of whatever, and Tad, Krystal and the Fusion trio
at the table, and not a word being shared between the two camps.
Emptying her glass, Liza threw a few random bills on the bar counter
and pushed and shoved her way to the door – no 'goodbyes', no, 'I'll
see you later'. At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to
drive home and crawl into bed with a Bette Davis movie and a carton
of ice cream and just repress. It wasn't until she had made it to
the parking lot of SOS, and felt the cold November frost on her
cheeks, heard the crunch of the snow beneath her feet, and caught a
glimpse of herself running in the reflective windshields of the cars
lined up before her did she stop – stopped by an urgent question
of 'Is this how I want it to end? Without a fight?' Because, all
emotions aside, she had invested 20 years of her life into this man,
and maybe it came from love, and maybe it came from a sense of
ownership, but she was not about to let some random woman waltz her
way into town and usurp her 20 years of careful planning and
preparation.
So, in the end, we're not quite sure what prompted Liza to brave the
crush and crowd of SOS that second time, whether it was the wind on
her face waking her up, or the thought of the last 20 years being for
naught, or just a juvenile thrill of doing the impulsive (a quality
she missed about herself now) All we know is she marched herself
right back into SOS – only to find Krystal and the Fusion table
making uncomfortable and gawky conversation that was halted by the
reemergence of Liza, frantically scanning the club for a sight of
Tad, who was weaving his way to the bar. Path before her firmly set,
shoulders thrown back, Liza Colby marched her way to Tad, never once
removing her eyes off of him. By the time she reached him, he had
turned around, and caught off-guard by her sudden reappearance,
said, "Hey, Liza, you left here so-" He didn't have a chance to
finish that thought, the poor boy. He seemed to be distracted by
Liza, who had swiftly run her hand through his hair and then led his
head down to meet her lips with a hard and hasty kiss which slowly
began to evolve into something slower and more provocative, the two
taking time to meander through their passions and linger in their
longings, both forgetting that they were in the middle of a club,
with all of Pine Valley watching in on this moment. In fact, it
wasn't until after the bartender had placed Tad's drinks on the
counter and coughed did the two pull apart – and as suddenly as Liza
appeared from the crowd, she made her way through it once again,
catching Mia's eye and smirking. Perhaps the old Liza wasn't gone
completely?
And what about Krystal, watching the spectacle from the Fusion
table? The challenge had been set now – wordless, but obvious. "50
on Liza." Greenlee called out – placing a green bill on the table,
locking eyes with Krystal. "I'm in, too!" Simone cried. "Make it
100!" Mia chimed in. "Did you want to get in on this action,
Krystal?" Greenlee asked sweetly, waiting for an answer...
Part II: You Had Time
Disclaimer: ABC owns `em. The subtitle is from Ani Di Franco's "You
Had Time"; the lullaby is "Look for the Silver Lining" written by
Jerome Kern.
AN: I don't know if they made mention of what car Liza drives, but @
the time of meeting Jake in the woods - wasn't it a black Jag?
('Cause there was that shot of MW standing by it in this *amazing*
caramel colored coat)
~ * ~ *~ *
You are a china shop
And i am a bull
I guess everything is timing
I guess everything's been said
-You Had Time
~ * ~ *~ *
Thursday, November 27, 2003 – 7.12 pm
Mia shook the snow from her hair as she waited for the door to open
before her. She could hear everyone inside laughing and talking and
for the hundredth time that night, she wished she had accepted the
Martin's invitation to spend Thanksgiving with them. Instead, she
had chosen to go with Liza to the Chandler spectacle known as a
family dinner. Eventually the door was opened by Ruth Martin in an
apron and Mia was pulled into the warm house filled with laughter and
light.
"Mia, I'm so glad you decided to come after all!" Ruth exclaimed,
hugging the woman before her tightly.
"Actually …" Mia began sheepishly, "I can't stay - Liza's waiting
outside with Colby - we're on our way to Adam's."
"Let's hope they give you a program to keep all the ex-wives
straight," Tad called out, emerging from the now smoke-filled
kitchen. "Mom, I think that you'd better fix whatever dad did in
there."
"Well maybe you can join us for dessert, I made that pie you loved so
much -" A metallic CRASH interrupted her thoughts and at once Ruth
took off for the kitchen. "Joe!" At once, there was another crash
from the dining room and then a distinctly feminine and
familiar "It's all right" belonging to a woman Mia more than
suspected was Krystal.
Mia's eyes met Tad's, and widened with this tidbit of knowledge.
"So," Tad began, breaking the silence looming over them "What brings
you yonder?" he asked, sitting himself on the back of the armchair.
"These." She held out a large manila envelope - "They're the papers
you needed."
"Thanks." He took them, watching her eyes carefully, "What? You're
looking at me funny."
"Am I?"
"You are, Mia, so just spit it out and don't choke on it."
"Nothing. I should go; Liza's waiting for me."
"She's here?"
"Waiting in the car. So..."
"Thanks for the files - I appreciate it."
"No prob-"
"Mia -" Ruth rushed out. "Thank goodness you haven't left, come into
the kitchen, Joe wants to say hi."
"I should really be going - Liza's outside."
"Nonsense, she can wait another minute. Come in." Ruth grabbed Mia's
hand and led her into the kitchen, leaving Tad alone.
Liza was outside. That very thought enraged and delighted him - as
well as brought out a million and one other emotions. He hadn't seen
her since that evening at SOS when she had kissed him. Whenever he
would ask about her, Mia would just reply that Chandler Enterprises
kept her busy. Whenever he called her, she would never pick up,
never call back. So eventually he stopped asking and stopped
calling. And now she was outside. He pushed himself up off the
armchair and went to the window, peeking through the curtains. There
was her car - the black Jaguar with tinted windows. He grabbed his
jacket and slipped out the door calling out, "I'll be right back". He
lightly jogged across his snowy lawn and pulled up in front of Liza's
window. She was turned around, talking to Colby - he couldn't quite
make out the words, but he heard their familiar voices mingled with
music from the radio. Colby noticed him standing at once and waved,
prompting Liza to turn around. After a moment's pause, she rolled
down her window and smiled. "Happy Thanksgiving," she offered.
The silence loomed above them and eye contact was avoided at all
costs. "Mia'll be a moment - she just went to say hi to my dad."
"Ok"
"Ok"
More silence.
"After two weeks of nothing - all I get is a Happy Thanksgiving??"
Tad exploded, waiting for an answer which came in the form of Liza's
window rolling up and her jumping out of the car and slamming the
door. "Two weeks, Liza, of you not calling me back and ignoring me!
And now all I get is a Happy Thanksgiving?"
"I thought it was best, Tad -" she began sharply, her words taking on
a hardened tone, "One of us has to think."
"About what?" Their voices were ringing clearly in the cold air and
spreading as far as the wind could carry it.
"About THIS," she indicated to the space between them with her hands.
"What's this?" Tad asked, mocking her actions by flailing his limbs.
"What's going on?" a third voice asked. There stood Opal on the
porch, shivering. "Tad come back inside, Joe's asking where you keep
the gravy boat."
"It's in the buffet," he yelled, not wanting to be interrupted.
"I can't find it - show me," she shouted back, ignoring Liza.
Sighing, Tad tossed Liza one last look and left, muttering a 'Happy
Thanksgiving' over his shoulder.
Rather than calming down by the time he made it to his house, he was
even more enraged by what had happened, or rather, not happened with
Liza. He expected apologies and excuses, not random hand-flailing.
Storming through his door, he almost bumped into Mia who was slipping
into her jacket in a rush. "Is she freaking out?" she asked,
struggling to get her arm in the right sleeve. "She's freaking out,
right? She didn't want to be late and…" Mia leaned over and gave Tad
a quick peck on the cheek, said "Happy Turkey Day" and raced out the
door, slamming it in her wake only to turn on her heel and throw it
open again, "Oh, I forgot, Liza knew your family exchanges gifts
tonight so she wanted me to pass this along." She slipped something
out of her pocket and tossed it at him. "By-ye," she teased, smiling,
closing the door for a second time, leaving Tad alone with his first
Christmas gift of the season. He stared at the package in his hand
long and hard, as if he could see through the paper and into the
intention behind it. It was a silver wrapped jewelry box with
gunmetal ribbon, very masculine and very x-ray vision proof.
"Tad?" a voice asked, prompting him to turn around, "What's wrong?"
Krystal asked with a concerned expression painted across her face and
an apron around her waist.
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong, why?"
"You're just standing there looking at your hand. What is it?" Her
eyes perked up at the box, "Is it for me? Can I open it?"
"This?" he asked, holding it up. "It's nothing, forget it." He
slipped the box into his pocket, promising to open it at a time which
allowed him more privacy. "What smells so good?"
Thursday, November 27, 2003 – 10.38 pm
Winifred quickly led him up the backstairs – if Mr. Chandler knew he
was in his house, he'd have a fit, he never hide his hatred of Tad
Martin, but there was something sincere and honest about Mr. Martin
that she loved, (And it was this sincerity, and *not* the winks he'd
toss in her direction every so often that she loved she told
herself). "She's just putting Colby to bed now," she explained,
whispering as she led him through the darkened passage towards the
open door at the end of the hall with pink tinted light and soft
voices spilling out. "I can just wait here," he responded, settling
in a chair against the opposite wall, "Thanks Winifred, and Happy
Thanksgiving." Wishing him the same, she began to pick her way
through the darkened hall once again. Tad realized that from this
position, if he stretched a little to the left, he'd be able to make
out Colby lying in her bed, with Liza sitting beside her. They had
just finished a book that was being placed back on the night stand
and Colby was begging for her song, winding up the music box beside
her bed. After a sigh and a smile, Liza turned the lights off and
indulged her daughter who followed along a beat behind: "Look for
the silver lining, When ever a cloud appears in the blue…" Surprised
by the warmth and strength of her voice as she sang the sorrowful
song, Tad's curiosity was peaked – what else didn't he know about his
best friend? Based on her actions these past couple of weeks, it
seemed that everything was new to him. "Remember somewhere the sun
is shining, and so the right thing to do, as make it shine for you; a
heart full of joy and gladness, will always banish sadness and
strife, so always look for the silver lining, and try to find the
sunny side of life." By this time, Colby's voice had died off and
though he couldn't quite see her, he heard Liza shift and arrange the
covers over Colby and make her way out of the room, her back to him
as she eased the door shut. "Liza?" he whispered, hoping not to
startle her. "Its Tad". She froze a moment and then turned around,
trying to meet his eyes with a steely glance, if she could only find
his eyes. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to say thank you."
"It was nothing." She slipped past his seat and made her way down
the hall.
"It was." He rose, walking after her, "Can we talk?"
"I thought we already did that once?" she asked. "It didn't quite
work out."
"Just 5 minutes, I have something for you."
"I don't want it."
"You don't know what it is yet."
"I still don't want it."
"You're acting like you're Colby's age Liza, come on."
"If she gets to act like she's my age, it's only fair."
"I give up!" Frustrated, Tad grabbed his companion's arm and dragged
her down the back stairs with him and out the side door which led to
the patio, lit only by the miniature Christmas lights wrapped around
the railing. From here, all the sounds from the dinner party could
be heard lightly, as if everything was moving in a speed apart from
them.
Standing face to face and eye to eye, a tense moment passed between
the two before the silence was broken. "What do you want, Tad?"
"To say thank you." He brushed off part of the steps leading down
into the gardens and sat himself down. "Want a seat?"
Chin out and eyes set, Liza responded firmly, "No," which in Tad
Martin's addled mind obviously meant, "Sure, I'd love to," because he
brushed the step clear of snow and held out his hand to help her
down. Already turning to go back inside, it was the glint of metal
which caught her eye, cast off of Tad's wrist. "You opened it?" she
asked, almost in awe of seeing her gift on him. "Yeah-" She took his
outstretched arm and sat herself down beside him. She then took his
hand in her two own and examined his wrist – indeed there was her
Christmas gift, her father's platinum cufflinks with his initials
(and coincidentally hers) integrated as part of the design
element. "He was wearing them the first time I met him," Tad began,
shifting under the not entirely unpleasant sensation of Liza
unconsciously running her hands over his upturned palm. "He never
took them off," she replied, adjusting them to his shirt.
"These mean a lot to you, don't they?" She shrugged her shoulders
and dropped his hand in her lap, wrapping her arms around her to warm
up, muttering something under her breath. "What?" Tad asked,
slipping one of his arms out of his sleeve,
"Nothing."
"No," Tad started, drawing Liza close to him and slipping half the
jacket over her so that they were nuzzled together under the single
jacket, "You said something."
"I said," her voice murmured, as she let herself be guided by Tad to
rest her head against his chest, "You mean a lot to me too." She
stared down at the snow covered lawn, "Besides," she continued, her
voice stronger now, "I remembered how much you liked them." They
stayed like that for some time, silent and shivering and oddly
content under the one jacket. "Hey-" Tad nudged her, "I have
something for you too."
"You didn't have to."
"I know," he answered, slighted by the fact that Liza thought he
reciprocated out of need rather than want. "You don't think a lot
of me, do you?" he asked as a flat package appeared from out of
nowhere. "It's not that, Tad," Liza began, "It's just that, you
know."
"Know what?"
"Nothing."
"That's nice, I know nothing," he smiled, the gift hovering just out
of Liza's reach.
"Shut up! That's not what I meant and you know it!" she grinned,
snatching the package from his hand and proceeding to rip through the
matte gold wrapping paper. "No 'what is it'? No 'you shouldn't
have?,'" he teased watching her glee at the present – that is, until
she reached the actual gift – and then the glee slowly transformed
itself into something he couldn't quite place. In her defense, Liza
herself didn't quite know what to feel as the stared at the gift on
her lap. It was an elegant frame, black leather, holding a picture
of Tad and herself almost 20 years ago. It was a picture of them at
the prom. It was a picture she hadn't seen in a very long
time. "Wow. I didn't expect speechlessness," Tad joked, unsure of
what to say. After another silent moment passed, "Liza, say
something." Finally Liza brought her head up, a smile weakly spread
cross her face and a few random tears making their way down her
face. "Thank you Tad. Really. Thank you." With a gentle hand, she
stroked the picture beneath the glass. "You know how hard it was to
find that?" he asked, unsure of what to do with the tears, "It seems
every copy of this picture was destroyed by an unknown blond woman,"
he chuckled, wordlessly handing her a Kleenex. "Yearbooks with pages
ripped out, photo albums with missing pictures, you were pretty
thorough, weren't you?" he asked. "Finally, Tim Jordan - you remember
him, right? - said he found a copy in his mother's photo album,
although what we were doing in Tim Jordan's mother's photo album,
I'll never know."
"Isn't he in Seattle?" Liza asked, wiping away the tears, thankful
Tad didn't mention them.
"Yeah – so's his mother…" The silence crept back into their
conversation and eventually Liza smiled, "I should go back in." She
started shivering. "And you have a family waiting for you." He
nodded and she unwrapped herself from his jacket and stood
up. "Thank you for my gift, Tad." She held out her hand to help him
up – but rather than rising, he tugged her back down and in an
ungraceful heap, Liza landed sprawled on Tad's lap. "And Liza – you
mean a lot to me, too." And with that, their lips met.
Maybe this year there was a lot more to be thankful for?
Friday, November 28, 2003 – 3.24 am
"Hey Liza, you awake?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Mhhhhhh." she groaned into the phone.
"Good morning, Princess."
"Mmmmmhhhh."
"Turn on channel 7," the voice instructed her.
"Tad-" Liza began, sitting upright, and struggling to find the
remote "Unless it's…" Remote found and channel 7 on, Liza was
silenced by the swell of the music and blinded by the grey toned
light flooding the room.
"Where's all your whining now?"
"Shhhhh! This is a good part," Liza scolded him as she settled into
her pillows.
"It's the first 2 minutes!" Tad retorted, stretched out on his couch.
"Are you going to talk throughout the movie, `cause if you are, I'm
hanging up!"
"I'll be good."
"That's a good boy," she teased.
Settled down in bed and couch, the remainder of the evening was spent
like this, over the phone, watching movies and squabbling during
commercial breaks until the sun came up and each of them fell asleep
to the sound of the other's breathing.
Part IIIa: 25th of December
Disclaimer: ABC owns ‘em. The subtitle is from Everything But the
Girl’s
"25th of December "; the song hummed is Jann Arden’s “Hangin’ by a
Thread”.
AN: Ok – so it’s slightly delayed…but unfortunately, it’s not like
they’re
using Liza for anything else so…there will also be the mentioning of a
character which will be introduced later on…I hope you enjoy him as
much as
the characters will.
~ * ~ *~ *
And I see forests and its the 25th of December,
and my old man plays the piano for Christmas,
He plays the piano for Christmas,
And we're all there, all the aunties and uncles,
and the angle's on the top of the tree,
Up there on the top of the tree
-25th of December
~ * ~ *~ *
Wednesday, December 24, 2003 – 6.38 pm
‘The plan was simple’, Liza reassured herself as she slammed her car
door
shut with her foot. She would go to the porch, knock on the door,
deposit
the armload of gifts onto whoever opened the door and would march back
to
her car, pick up Stuart and Marian, and spend Christmas with the
Chandlers
and Colby. She would retire to her old bedroom and spend her evening
watching bad Christmas specials and working on the data files for
Chandler
Inc’s upcoming acquisition of Hunter Industries and Wei Securities.
The
blizzard would have no impact on her. She wouldn’t let it.
As she made it to the porch, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to
knock
at the door, her arms laden down with presents from Mia. This would
not be
the last thing to go wrong this evening. Liza kicked the door with her
foot, vowing Mia would pay her back for making her scuff her favorite
boots,
and for making Liza drop off the gifts she had forgotten, and on top of
all
that - for making Liza wait in the snow and suffer a bad hair day.
From
outside, she could hear the laughter and the yuletide joy emanating
from
inside the Martin house and it made her sick. To calm the swells in
her
stomach, she ran over her plan once more – so engrossed in her planning
perfection that she didn’t realize that the door opened before her.
“Santa-” the smirking familiar voice began, “You’re a little early.”
“Well,” replied Liza, thrusting the gifts towards Tad. “I didn’t think
coal
would weigh so much, but there you have it. Goodnight!” And with a
turn of
the heel, she began her decent down the porch stairs. “You can come
in,
you know.” Tad called out after her. “Have some eggnog and partake in
the
Christmas spirit.”
“Bah-humbug!” Liza replied from the lawn. “Besides, with such a
charming
offer like that, how could I accept?”
“Charming offer? You want a charming offer? I’ll show you a charming
offer!” And with a crash, Tad dropped the armload onto the floor and
grabbed
some snow from the porch and formed it into a snowball which he let
loose at
the back of Liza (which missed her by a mile) and shouted, “How’s that
for
charming, now are you coming in or not?”
“Well, Tad,” She bent down and formed a carefully crafted snowball of
her
own, “Someone has to show you how to not throw like a girl!” And with
perfect aim, she threw her snowball. It was truly a magnificent sight,
gliding through the air like that – that is until Tad stepped back and
the
ball hit Joe Martin square in the chest as he stepped in front of the
door
to see who his son was yelling at.
“Great arm, Liza.” He called out to her, wiping the snow off the
Rudolph
from his sweater.
“Thanks Doctor Martin.”
“Would you like to come in? We can discuss you joining the hospital’s
soft
ball team.”
“I’d really just prefer to crawl into a hole right now, but thanks for
the
offer!” She shouted back, humiliated beyond belief. (From inside the
house,
Opal’s voice was heard commenting on this.) “I’m afraid we’re all out
of
holes, but we have plenty of eggnog. Come in for a few minutes. Let
the
storm ease up.” After a moment’s hesitation, Liza sighed and agreed to
come
in. And from the moment that door closed behind her – Liza knew she
was in
for a very … evening (she couldn’t even think of the word to use to
describe
what sort of evening this would be) based on the Pine Valley citizens
which
were gathered in the Martin’s living room: Opal, Ruth, Mia, Simone
(Liza had
to hide her double take on *that* one behind the act of shaking off
some
snow), Jamie and Brooke. “Merry Christmas,” she offered weakly,
feeling
ill.
For the first hour awkward conversations abounded around Liza, none of
which
were aimed at her and her eyes trained to the storm outside the
windows.
She attempted to make a break for it at one point, rising and declaring
that
the storm had lightened, only to be shut down by Tad (who had spent the
past
hour with everyone *but* her), and being half-heartedly invited by Ruth
to
stay for Christmas dinner.
So began the second hour of her ordeal: being seated around the table
with
the Martins, keeping her head down and her answers limited to
monosyllabic
words. Feeling removed from her element and surrounded by people who
had
made no attempt to hide their contempt of her made Liza oddly quiet and
melancholic for Christmases past: Jake falling out of trees and
huddling
with her for warmth, sleeping on her father’s lap while they waited for
‘Santa’, and holidays at the dorms when they were in school. The
children
of the divorced and depressed gathered around to commiserate and
compare
horror stories. Liza was proud to remember she always won, thanks to
Tad
and Marian. A smile unconsciously rose to her lips as she recalled
spending
a Christmas eve with Peter in … a bar of sorts. Peter. Peter would
know
how to get through a night like this.
After picking politely at some of the food placed on her plate, Liza
quietly
excused herself and slipped into the Martin kitchen with her laptop.
It was
antisocial behavior, she realized, but necessary to get away from all
the
mindless chatter and the crackling logs and the heat rising from the
mashed
potatoes and the fire in the fire place. The kitchen was, strangely
enough,
cooler than the dining room and more peaceful. Here she could work on
her
documents in peace, she explained to herself, unpacking her laptop and
starting it up, her absence was probably welcome. Aside from the looks
of
pity tossed to her by Mia and even Simone, she had hardly been
acknowledged.
While that hurt in some bizarre way which she had never thought
possible,
Liza had learned a long time ago that hurt is useless. Best to keep
working
– eventually the hurt would fade and the millions would grow. So she
called
up a random playlist of music to block out the festivities and set
herself
to work.
An hour (or two, or possibly three) later (she really wasn’t keeping
track
anymore), the solace of the kitchen was intruded upon by the entire
clan,
their arms filled with dirty dishes and leftovers. Like an assembly
line,
they began the arduous task of bagging, foiling, wrapping and
tupperwear-ing
the remains. Liza continued to work for a couple of moment, but found
herself unable to concentrate once Jamie and Tad began a swordfight
with the
thigh bones off the turkey, flinging little bits of meat everywhere,
including Liza’s laptop screen which seemed to attract a particularly
greasy
piece of dark meat. It was at this moment her cell phone rang, sparing
the
younger Martin men her wrath. “Hello?” She picked up, ignoring the
glances
Ruth, Opal and Brooke tossed to one another over the turkey carcass.
“Jonathan? What time is it there? How is it going? In ENGLISH,
please.
The only German I know is ‘willkommen’ and ‘Goldshlager’!” (Somewhere
behind
her, Simone applauded her competitor’s drink of choice.) “What? NO!
That’s
ridiculous. He’s lying through his teeth! How do I know? Because
Wendy
just e-mailed me from Beijing with documents that show them getting rid
of
all their liquid assets. That’s how I know. Tell him you’re insulted
and
go to your room and pack up. You’re coming home. When he finds that
out,
he’ll stop you before you can put the little shampoos in your suitcase.
Call me back. Oh, and Jonathan? Merry Christmas.” She hung up, rose
from
her seat, took off her glasses and made her way through the bodies
where
Simone and Mia were having a particularly difficult time with the dish
washing duties they adopted. Smiling, she relieved them of their task
and
set them forth to help Ruth with whatever was left. “Oh Liza, don’t
worry
about that, I’ll do that in a minute” Ruth called from the living room
where
she was wiping the table down. “It’s alright Mrs. Martin, I don’t
mind.”
And with some half-hearted arguing on both their sides, Ruth left Liza
alone
in the kitchen to wash the dishes while Mia watched, perched on the
island
counter. “What are you doing?”
“Washing dishes.”
“That’s obvious, Liza. I mean, why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like this sulky child? A prissy princess? I don’t know – like an
idiot?”
“I’m acting in a manner in which they expect me to act. I hate to
disappoint, Mia, you know that.”
“How do they want you to act?”
“Like a bitch. Pass me that dish? It makes it easier for them to
continue
this vendetta they have. Thanks.”
“Do you hear yourself? Vendetta? They are not the Gotti clan, they
have no
vendetta against you. They treat you the way they do because you act
the
way you do.”
“You’re sweet, Mia. Sweet, but naive. They don’t like me. They think
I’m
… I don’t know … tainted trash set to destroy the lives of their little
boys. It’s not tonight, Mia-it’s always. They simply tolerate me.”
“They don’t still-”
“Don’t still what? Mia? Hate me for ruining Tad and Dixie’s marriage?
Corrupting Jake? And what they think is breaking him and Ally up?
They
have a list of wrongs I’ve done them, and if hating me makes it any
easier
for them to get over it, so be it.”
“So your contrition is to act like a snotty bitch? I’m sorry. I don’t
believe that. I think they really did want you to stay tonight, and
you
turned it around and made the entire situation awkward for them. I
think
they see through you Liza. I think they see through this act and know
that
you’re this amazing person.”
“Mia,” Liza lifted her wet hands from the sink and dried them on a
dishcloth. “Listen to this-” She grabbed her sister’s arm and dragged
her
to the door where they both listened carefully to Ruth, Opal, Simone
and
Brooke setting the table for dessert:
Ruth: Well it was nice of her to offer to do the dishes, I suppose.
Simone: Sure was.
Opal: But did you see how quickly she took off from the table? And how
she
didn’t even eat? Holier than thou, on Christmas, too.
Brooke: Maybe she wasn’t feeling well.
Ruth: Well then I hope the snow clears soon, so she can go.
Opal: And the looks she kept tossing to Tad?
Simone: I didn’t see any looks.
Brooke: It can’t be easy for her, here with us.
Simone: But I suppose I couldn’t monitor every glance she gave, right?
Opal: I just know the sooner she leaves, the happier we’ll all be.
Right,
Ruth?
Ruth: I suppose. It’s just that – why couldn’t she be sweeter or
something,
more like Mia or Simone, rather than –
Brooke: Herself?
Ruth: Well yes. I just don’t-
“Well, now what, Mia?” Liza asked as she returned to the sink. “Try
hearing
that – to your face – every day.”
“So, you’re going to hide in the kitchen? Let them keep saying those
things
about you?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“But – Tad doesn’t mind.”
“Yes, Tad does. Do you think it doesn’t affect how he sees me?
Knowing
what Ruth and Opal say about me, compared to what they say about you
two? I
won’t make him choose what to believe Mia, his parents or his friend;
because I know I would lose in a heartbeat.”
A moment of silence passed between the two sisters as Mia let Liza
compose
herself. Finally, she grabbed a dishcloth and moved towards her
sister.
“Here, let me help.”
“Thanks Mia- but you should go out. They’ll be missing you. Someone
has to
represent the Colby girls!” So Mia left her sister alone with the
dirty
dishes and a laptop full of music.
Liza didn’t actually mind doing dishes. It gave her a productive
excuse for
escaping the family activities as well as provided her a time to think.
She
got that so rarely nowadays with the upcoming acquisition; any time not
spent at the office was spent with Colby. Her mind raced in a hundred
directions, none of which she particularly enjoyed. She sighed and
continued the task at hand, all the while humming softly with the
music, “Oh
look at me, at all I’ve done, I’ve lost so many things that I so dearly
love. I lost my soul, I lost my pride, oh I lost any hope of having a
sweet
life. So I cry, cry, cry – oh the salt inside my body ruins, everyone
I
come close to…” Behind her, the door opened and someone made their way
to
the fridge. “My heart is barely hangin’ by a thread, hangin’ by a
thread”.
“So-” Tad’s familiar voice interrupted, “This is where you’ve run off
to.”
“Look at me Tad, I’m not running.”
Part IIIb
Disclaimer: ABC owns `em. The subtitle is from Everything But the
Girl's "25th of December "; the song danced to is Heather
Nova's "Paper Cup" - which is a BEAUTIFUL song!!!
~ * ~ *~ *
I miss you all
I wish I was
With you now
I wish
I was
-Hangin' By A Thread
~ * ~ *~ *
"So-" Tad's familiar voice interrupted, "This is where you've run
off to."
"Look at me Tad, I'm not running."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Tad, I'm up to my arms in dirty dishes," she laughed, trying to
lighten the subtext brought on by Tad's comment. "Believe me, I'm not
running anywhere!"
"So, what are you doing here?" He asked, lifting himself up onto the
island where Mia had just vacated.
"There's a snow storm, remember?"
"Ha. Ha."
"Hey, you're the one who asked, Tad."
"That's not what I meant, snot. What are you doing hiding out in the
kitchen?"
"I'm not hiding."
"No? `Cause that's not what it looks like from out there."
"I didn't realize my actions-"
"I didn't realize my actions-" Tad mimicked her, raising his voice
another 3 octaves.
"Hey, if you don't watch it, I'll make sure you speak like that for
the rest of your life, kid."
"Alright, alright, Butch. I'll back off." They sat in silence for a
moment and then Tad stretched across the island, lying down on his
back, in an attempt to reach the fridge. With some difficulty, he
managed to open the door and finally grabbed a can of soda and
shuffled himself upright and watched Liza as she washed the dishes
and swayed in time to the mellow music playing. "This is nice. This
music, I mean. What is it?"
"Just some songs, Tad. Nothing to get excited about."
"I don't know-" he began, leaping down from his perch, "it's kind of
nice." He held out his hand in a silent invitation to dance along
with him. "Come on. It's just a dance." His eyes twinkled towards
Liza, watching her mull over his invitation. Eventually, she lifted
her arms from the soapy sink and wiped them on a dish towel. "Uh-oh,
that's mom's nice towel. She's not gonna like you for that one."
"She doesn't like me to begin with."
"Oh," Tad began, grabbing Liza's hands and placing one on his hip, as
the music shifted into something soft and mellow. "I wouldn't say
that."
"Really Tad, what would you say?"
"I would say that this song is …"
"Is?" Liza implored him, peering up.
Wishful thinking I might be yours - Drifting on every step
"Is beautiful."
I'm always drawn to the dark horse – Sweet, sweet, oh nothing's
said - And every dream every is just a dream after all - And
everything stands so still when you dance - Everything spins so fast -
And the night's in a paper cup - When you want it to last.
They swayed together, arm in arm, floating away on the singer's
breathy voice.
Her head resting against his shoulder and his arms cradling the small
of her back.
Wishful thinking you might be mine - Every shiver sends - One
breath under the bridge of sighs - Bending where the river bends -
And every dream, every, is just a dream, after all - And everything
stands so still when you dance - Everything spins so fast - And the
nights in a paper cup - When you want it to last - And every dream,
every, is just a dream after all - And everything stands so still
when you dance - Everything spins so fast - And the night's in a
paper cup - When you want it to last.
Just swaying.
And everything stands so still when you dance - Everything spins
so fast - And the night's in a paper cup - When you want it to last.
Somewhere a phone rang. And the song changed. And Tad still held
Liza.
Until Opal, in her jingle-jangling glory burst into the kitchen
waving the phone in her hand, stopped in her tracks at the sight
before her. "Well, no wonder you were taking this long getting a
drink." Tad and Liza disengaged themselves from one another and Opal
pushed her way between them, silently relegating Liza back to her
sink. "Jake's on the phone, Tad. For you." She held out the phone
and smirked at Liza and ushered Tad out of the kitchen. From her
vantage point over the sink – she could hear the brotherly laughter
and chatter from the other members of the family and felt hollow. So
she continued to wash the dishes and wander in her thoughts.
"Yes. Jake, are you sure? If you're sure, she's right-" Ruth pushed
her way through the door, and ignoring the swift action of Liza
wiping her face with the back of her hand, handed her the
phone. "Liza? It's Jake."
"Oh. Thanks, Mrs. Martin." Liza wiped her hands on her apron and
accepted the phone.
"You've spent all evening in here, Liza. Come out."
"I will. I promise." She smiled and raised the phone to her
ear, "Hey you. Merry Christmas! Light any good trees lately?"
* * *
Eventually, Liza slipped the phone back on the cradle with dish pan
hands and made her way to the living room where the evening's
festivities had wined down. Everyone was sprawled across the floors
and chairs and couches, wordlessly watching the flickering fire.
After a while, Joe patted his wife's arm and suggested they all make
their way upstairs. "Oh, honey-" Ruth asked, standing up, "Where's
everyone going to sleep?"
"Well, Opal and I can share." Brooke suggested.
"Same with me, Simone and Liza" Mia offered
"Well, Opal, you and Brooke can share the guest room, and girls, you
can take the boys old room. Although that only has bunk beds, so…"
Ruth's voice died off
"Oh, don't worry about me," Liza spoke up, heading off Ruth's
suggestion, "I'll take the couch. I've still got a lot of work to
do."
"Well, if you're sure, then I'll just grab you some pillows …" And
with that Ruth and her entourage of overnight guests made their way
to the linen closet.
"We can share a bunk, Liza."
"That's ok, Mia. I've still got that last report to review tonight,
and it didn't help I was on the phone with Jake for so long."
"I know. I heard." Mia's voice took on a sing-songy quality.
"Please, Mia."
"What?"
"It's just that-"
"Yes?" Simone interrupted.
"Nothing – I was driving by the inn a couple of days ago and
apparently so was he. This has just always been our little joke."
"Whatever you say. Although one day, I want the whole story between
you two." Mia took the offered pillow and blanket from Ruth and
passed it onto her sister.
"Fine." Liza sighed, smiling at her sister. "Thanks, Mrs. Martin.
Good night, everyone!"
When she arrived back into the living room, she found Joe standing
above the fire, poking at it with his tongs. "Oh, Liza, sorry."
"No problem."
"Did you want me to douse the fire?"
"No, no." She answered, spreading her blanket over the couch. "It's
fine. I can keep an eye out on it. It'll die out on it's own, won't
it?"
"Eventually." He smiled at her, "I'm sorry you didn't enjoy yourself
tonight."
"I did. I did."
"Don't lie, Liza."
"I'm not. Parts of the evening were wonderful."
"And parts?"
"Look, Dr. Martin. I wasn't invited. This is a family thing. Your
family. And I was intruding."
"You know, Liza. They're never going to get used to you being a part
of Tad's life unless you intrude a little."
"I'm not really a part of his life, Dr. Martin, but thank you for the
advice."
"Yes, Liza. You are." He crossed the room and kissed her
forehead. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas." She echoed after him, watching him leave the
room. "And thank you."
She shifted her laptop from the kitchen into the living room and
began to work in earnest, trying to push Joe's comment out of her
mind.
* * *
A few hours later, with a self satisfied sigh, Liza Colby turned off
her computer and stretched out on the couch and turned on the
television and begun to flick through the channels until she found
what she wanted. Miracle on 34th Street. Black and white. A sleepy
smile spread across her face. For 20 years, she had never missed a
Christmas viewing of her Father's favorite film.
"You're still awake?" A voice asked from the darkened stairwell.
"Tad?!? You scared me half to death. What are you doing up?"
"I couldn't sleep. How `bout you?" He asked, walking into the room,
rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"I just finished."
"God – shove over." He plopped himself beside Liza on the
couch, "Ryan's working you like a dog!"
"I don't mind."
"No, you don't, do you?" He yawned and reached for the crumpled
blanket, draping it over him and Liza, who had curled up beside him,
her head on his chest. "So, what are we watching?"
* * *
Yes. They fell asleep like that – and it was only a few hours later
when Liza woke up to a still world. The snow had stopped and the
plows had been through. Careful not to wake the sleeping Tad, Liza
slowly lifted herself off of him and covered him with the blanket.
From beside the telephone, she grabbed a note pad and jotted down a
quick thank you note, placed it on the coffee room table, grabbed her
laptop and left.
Part IV: What Are You Doing New Years, New Years Eve?
AN: I love the Crystal Ball. Don't you? By far, my favorite one had
to be where Janet decided not to go and Trevor showed up at her hotel
room with a dress…Just thought I'd share. : )
~ * ~ *~ *
maybe it's much too early in the game
oh, but I thought I'd ask you just the same
what are you doing new year's eve?
wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight,
when it's exactly 12 o'clock that night
welcoming in the new year's eve.
-What Are You Doing New Year's Eve
~ * ~ *~ *
The Crystal Ball
Wednesday, December 31st, 2003 – 9.06 pm
"Are you ready for this?" He asked, watching his companion take a
steadying breath. "We go in there, we announce it, and in four weeks-"
"I run Chandler Enterprises."
"Bingo." Ryan slipped his arm around Liza's waist and painted a
smile on his face as the doorman opened the door to the ballroom and
announced their arrival. "By the way, Liza, did I tell you how
beautiful you look tonight?"
"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself," she replied through
smiling teeth, walking across the threshold. "Is it for Greenlee or
Kendall?"
"Who said I had to choose?"
"You, Ryan, are such a man," she shot to her escort, as the doorman
led them to Wildwind's ballroom.
"Why Liza, you say that like it's a bad thing…"
The couple was announced at the entrance of the ballroom, and
everyone who was anyone in Pine Valley turned to see the late
arrivals. They made a striking pair -- Ryan, with his chiseled
features and boyish smile, his natural charm contained in a smartly
cut tuxedo, and Liza, with her simple and sophisticated dress and
hair. Where every woman at the ball was decked out in blacks and
whites, frills and ruffles, diamonds and pearls, bouffants and stick
straight strands, Liza was clad in a simple Champaign-colored
cashmere dress, spotted with stray sequins of gold. Her hair, pinned
back in soft curves. A study in simplicity in this sea of excess.
They were seated in the centre cluster of tables, where the most
important, most wealthy and most dignified guests were located. As
Liza and Ryan set to work, schmoozing and networking with their
tablemates, they both cast an eye towards the outer tables, where the
least important guests seemed to be having all sorts of fun.
The Crystal Ball
Wednesday, December 31st, 2003 – 10.48 pm
The moment Liza dreaded was upon her.
The dessert plates were being cleared.
Dinner was marvelous, and the dessert was decadent. And they
provided Liza with the perfect excuse to ignore Tad Martin, who had
sent her three text messages asking for a dance, as well as cornered
her on her way to the ladies room. The thought of dancing with Tad
Martin was not an altogether unpleasant way of spending the evening,
but Liza knew the dance would lead to awkward small talk which would
only lead to awkward serious talk which would lead to the
unpleasantness she was dreading. An awkward sentence for an awkward
situation.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize that Ryan had
stood up and offered her his hand for the first dance. With a smile,
she accepted and together, they made their way to the floor. As Liza
and Ryan slowly spun and twirled, Liza kept an eye trained on Tad,
who was busy dancing with Krystal, yet kept holding Liza's eye
contact. The moment the dance was over, Tad dropped Krystal's waist
and begun to weave through the dancing bodies in an attempt to get to
Liza. Seeing this, Liza smiled at Ryan and released him from his
escorting duties for the evening to frolic with Greenlee or Kendall,
or both. Frankly, she thought, as she raced to get away from Tad,
she couldn't be bothered to keep up with which woman he preferred.
Hearing Tad call her from behind, Liza sharply turned into ladies
room and flung herself onto one of the empty settees and began to
wonder how she'd get herself out of this.
Unbeknownst to Liza *or* to Tad, was Opal, who was keeping an eye on
the situation herself.
She was not pleased.
She was not pleased at all.
The minute Tad let go of Krystal, Opal shot up from her chair and
begun to chase her baby boy in the hopes of talking some sense to
him. Her opportunity for this was catching him outside the ladies
room where he waited for Liza. "Come on, Liza," he called, smiling
politely at the women walking past him, "You're going to have to come
out eventually."
"Hush up, Tad," Opal hissed, lightly smacking his arm. "What are you
doing?"
"I'm-"
"Don't interrupt me, I know what you're doing, you are making a fool
out of yourself, Tad, by chasing Liza. What have I been telling you
all summer long? You stay away from her; you stay away from Liza
Colby. She has brought you nothing but pain in the past and she'll
bring you more if you meddle with her, mark my words Tad. Oh, you can
yuk it up now, Chuckles-" She slapped his arm again, harder this
time, "but your mama knows what she's talking about."
"Mama," Tad began, kissing Opal on the forehead, "thanks for the
advice, but I know what I'm doing. It's just a dance."
"Just a dance?" Opal muttered to herself as she left her son. "Just
a dance, he's just a damn fool, that's what he is…"
Inside the ladies room, Liza knew she had to eventually come out.
Word would be spreading already about how Opal had driven her to
cower in the powder room. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her
ear, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to face Tad Martin,
yes, but also to join Ryan for their speech in a few moments. She
threw open the door and stepped outside, ready to face the room.
"Happy New Years, Liza," Tad started, "fancy meeting you here."
"Happy New Years yourself, Martin," she replied back, trying to step
around him.
"Where are you going? Aren't you going to dance with me? Just one,
itty bitty dance? Take pity on me, please, pal?"
"Oh, but you brought that one," indicating to Krystal with her
eye, "all on yourself."
"Come on, one dance?" He batted his eyelashes and pouted his
lips, "For me?"
"Maybe later, Tad," she sighed and tried to step around him once more.
"Maybe now. Knowing you, you'll duck out later, come on, Liza. One
dance. It's just a dance. It doesn't mean anything."
"That's it, Tad, that's why I won't do it. Because it does mean
something to me." She stopped short. She didn't mean to be so blunt
about her hesitation.
"Come on, Liza, we both knew this talk would be coming, but tonight
of all nights? Come on, we dance, we drink some Champaign, and we'll
talk about it tomorrow."
"No, Tad, we won't. We won't talk about it because there's nothing
to talk about." Making her escape, Liza swiftly ducked around Tad
and joined the crowd in the ballroom. Tad followed, a step behind,
and gracefully grabbed Liza's arm and sat her down at an empty table.
"You are going to make sense soon. What are you talking about?"
"There is nothing to talk about."
"What about this?" He flailed his arms at the space between their two
bodies, mocking her words from Thanksgiving.
"This isn't funny, Tad."
"Yes, it is, `cause I have no idea what's going on."
"There is nothing to talk about, Tad. No matter what we talk about
there will always be other people influencing what you do."
"Like who?"
"Like your parents, and Opal, and Mia, and Simone, and Krystal, and
Jamie. Everyone will be pointing out how I'm not Gloria, or I'm not
Dixie, and you will hear that and you will know, you will see the
million ways I don't measure up to either of them. They were the
Loves of your Life, but-" her eye caught Ryan making his way over to
them, "you were mine. Just remember who loved you first." She
leaned over and lightly brushed her lips across his cheek, and then
rose to meet Ryan.
The Crystal Ball
Wednesday, December 31st, 2003 – 11.18 pm
"So I'd like to ask you all to give a round of applause to the new
President and C.E.O of Chandler Enterprises, Liza Colby." Ryan
stepped away from the podium and allowed Liza to move center stage.
After the applause died down, Liza cleared her throat and
began, "Thank you, I'll keep this short – Happy New Year's eve,
everyone!" This final announcement received an even louder burst of
applause and Liza and Ryan relinquished the stage to the band who
begun to play a selection of lively tunes. Politely pushing her way
past the congratulating well-wishers, Liza exited the noisy hall and
found herself in the ballroom's foyer. Finally, a moment to
breathe. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the cool marble wall,
trying to chill her flushed skin. She heard a door open, the sounds
of the party escape, and the echo of footsteps enter the room. Tad?
Her eyes opened eagerly – only to be disappointed by the footman who
stood there with her wrap.
"Ms. Colby, your taxi's waiting."
"Thank you." She smiled and slipped her wrap around her
shoulder. "And Happy New Y-"
Another door opened, and another burst of party sounds escaped, this
time, she didn't bother to turn her head.
"I never got around to telling you how beautiful you look tonight,"
Tad called out, stepping up and helping her drape her shawl around
her shoulders. "But you do, look breathtaking, tonight," he
stammered as she began to walk towards the doors, where her taxi
stood waiting.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Not to say you don't look wonderful all the time, just tonight…"
"What do you want Tad?" she asked, stepping out into the freezing
night air. The air was foggy, and not a star could be seen, but the
sky had taken on a violet haze from all the lights.
"I don't know. I want us. You? Me? Together?"
"Really? Well, a direct quote from the prophet Opal: You stay away
from her; you stay away from Liza Colby. She has brought you nothing
but pain in the past and she'll bring you more if you meddle with
her, mark my words Tad. End quote."
"So, you heard?"
"Half the town heard, Tad," Liza bitterly explained, "And the other
half will hear about it at the Glamourama.
"Why are you so upset? She's always treated you like this and it
never bothered you before. What do you want? Why are you so
demanding all of a sudden?"
"Just think about what you said, very carefully." She threw open the
taxi door and sat herself in and slammed it as hard as she could. As
if having an afterthought, she rolled opened the window. "And you
think I'm demanding and controlling, well, you're right. I am. But
I won't be apologizing for that Tad, because that's what has gotten
me this far in the world, and that's what has kept me sane when it
comes to dealing with you."
And with that, the taxi drove off, whisking Liza home and leaving Tad
at Wildwind.
The Colby House
Wednesday, December 31st, 2003 – 11.58 pm
Liza had no sooner stepped into her house and slipped out of her
shoes, did the doorbell ring. And though her first instinct was to
walk away, she didn't. Instead, she flung the door open and was
greeted by one Thaddeus J. Martin.
"You know you're insane, right?" he asked, stepping into her house
and closing the door, "Still," he said, literally sweeping Liza off
her feet, "I Love You." Laughing, he carried her up the stairs to
her bedroom, not certain he heard her response correctly:
No, you don't. But you will.
To Be Continued...
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