#i tried to conceive of monty smiling and boy it did not work for them

[lemonbrows]

awake again !

[mellicose]

That Woman Over There - The Last Chapter

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic - COMPLETE

Rating: PG-13, for mild profanity

Word count: 2500

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 |

“Hey you!” Alex said, running to the precarious bit of cliff where John stared at the horizon. “Ready for take two?”

He was silent. She squinted toward where he was looking, curious.

“You look like a Byronian hero,” she said, proud of herself at the reference, then laughed out loud when she heard what he was actually doing. “You’re disgustin’, mate!”

“I had too much champagne earlier,” he said, and winked. She turned around and waited for him to finish peeing.

“Let me borrow that bottle of water,” he said as he zipped up. She had one in her pocket.

“Keep it,” she said, and handed it to him. He poured the water over his hands. “Ever the gentleman. They’re just waiting on the priest. Encarnación’s ready.”

He smiled. “Encarnación. Alphonse really rubbed off on you,” he said.

“In more ways than one,” she said, and wiggled her eyebrow. He laughed. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m glad that you’re happy with the Frenchman,” he said. Now that she was working toward her dream, she was fiery with self-confidence. He felt fortunate that they were able to fix things so easily. After he came back from his ma’s, she was already back at house. Although he wasn’t ready to speak immediately, she waited until he was, which was hard for a woman like her. He was grateful for her patience, and to have his friend again.

“Seriously, though. You ready?”

“You're asking me that? You moved in with Alphonse after three months,” he said.

“It was mostly for convenience, and because Liv’s selling the house.”

“Sure,” John said, making a funny face.

“We ain’t getting married, though,” she said, shrugging. And they weren’t. But her body was telling her that things were going to change regardless. Soon. It’s why she had only lemon water at the pre-wedding cocktail party. And at bonfire the night before. Alphonse and her were going to Mexico after the wedding, and she planned to tell him there. She didn’t know how it would go. All she was sure of is that she was keeping the baby. Sh looked toward the small wedding party. Maude tugged playfully on Olivia’s frizzing hair - the breeze wreaked havoc on it. Liv slapped her hand away and went into her purse for a mirror. Monty was with Liv’s parents back in England. She missed him terribly, and now that she was up the duff, it made her feel a lot more sympathetic about Olivia’s decision to conceive, no matter the cost. At least they knew each other for a year before she got pregnant.

“What are you thinking?” John said, looking intently at her face. It pleased him to see that dating Alphonse gave her a glow - her cheeks were rounding out, giving her a softer, more feminine look.

She brightened up. “You excited?” She would tell John about the baby, but later. This was his day.

He waved his hands in the breeze to dry them. “Is it weird that it doesn’t feel like the second time around?” he said. He smiled and bit his lip.

“That’s a good thing,” Alex said. “Your love wiped the slate clean.”

He nodded. “I like that. I’m using it,” he said.

“I’ve realized after being with Alphonse that are all different kinds of love,” she said.

“Yeah?” he said, curious.

“I mean, beyond the obvious,” she said, referring to Liv being a woman and Alphonse being a man. “Even though you’re you and set in your ways, you can’t love different people in the same way. It’s impossible. You loved Mara in the way she allowed herself to be loved.” He groaned. She patted his back. “Sorry to mention her.”

“No, it’s okay. She was a part of my life for a very long time,” he said.

“And she tried to shoehorn her way in again!” she said. Not long after she moved to Alphonse’s, he called her late in the night, audibly shaken. She borrowed Alfie’s Beamer and drove to Bristol in record time. There, Mara sat in his living room, chattering away like nothing had changed. “I still can’t believe you let ‘er in.”

“It was cold and rainy. She brought her baby,” he said, referring to her daughter with the small time football player, Addie.

“For sympathy points, I’m sure,” she said. “She was a cute little button, though. Ginger as her mam. Either way, I let her know what was what in short order,” she said. She had given her a piece of her mind just as soon as she saw John’s face. “Did you ever tell Encarnación?”

“I called her right after you left,” he said.

“And what did she say?” Alex said. She looked at the water bottle in John’s hands, shrugged, and took it back for a sip.

“She didn’t say much, but she listened. For nearly two hours, I cried and babbled my stream-of-consciousness pain to her. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was the little girl, or Mara’s worn, faded face, or her genuine desperation. I thought my head would crack in two. I knew it might bother her, but I couldn’t not tell her.”

“Wow,” Alex said.

“Eh,” he said, nodding.

“Between us, bruv ... did you feel something?”

John sighed, but his face was peaceful. “I felt compassion. For Addie, mostly, but also for her. It hurt to see her so fragile and scared. I loved her so, so much. Deeply. She was my dream girl, Al. Ever since I was a boy. I remembered that, even though she wasn’t quite the same anymore.”

She looked at him sympathetically, although she didn’t feel any sympathy for Mara. She could only think of the condition she left him in after the divorce.

“Something shifted in me, though, as she spoke. I noticed she never mentioned Addie, although the little one was right beside her. She spoke of childish privations, and complained about how the football player 'didn’t treat her like she deserved'. Like I did. It left a sour taste in my mouth when I realized she meant that he didn’t put up with her horse shit. Maybe the meathead was a wiser man than me.”

Alex snorted.

“Even after having a kid, she still only thought of herself. Her comfort. Her desires. Her vapid dreams. And she definitely asked about my Mannism money. After being with Connie, I can’t even process that kind of selfishness anymore. It made me ill to be around it. She was my dream girl, but I’m a different man now. Maybe that’s where the tears came from. I was finally free of her.”

“Woo!” Alex said. “Is that why you were so keen on ring shopping that weekend?”

“Yep,” he said. “That little visit, and the way that Connie listened and understood after, helped me make up my mind. I’d be the dumbest twat alive ifI didn’t make her my wife - if she’d have me.”

“If she’d have me,” she mocked. “As if she wasn’t absolute and utter trash for you after the first day,” she said, and rolled her eyes.

“All I remember about the beginning is her smart mouth,” he said, but he smiled.

She squeezed his shoulder. “You are not wise to the ways of women,” she said enigmatically. “She was testing you, that’s all.”

“I think I passed,” he said giddily.

“I think you did, mate,” she said. Olivia waved at them and pointed to the priest, who had just arrived. “It’s time.”

John walked into the gazebo, where the priest in black vestments waited. Liv walked up, gave him a wide smile and winked.

"The bride's ready," she said, and stood behind him. She was maid of honor.

“Ready, son?” the priest said, and squeezed his shoulder.

“More than anything,” John said, bouncing in place and rubbing his hands together. He grabbed Alex’s wrist. “Got the rings?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, patting her breast pocket. The priest nodded at the person waiting to open the flap of the small pavilion where Connie waited with her father. Liv squeezed his wrist, and he took her hand. On the other side, Alex’s hand went in his.

The flap opened. The small crowd gasped in unison. Connie was a vision in white lace, and she held a bouquet of lilies. She smiled through the translucent, shimmering web of her veil. Her little cousins held down the diaphenous fabric of her skirts as she walked to the gazebo.

“Fuck me, she looks like a bride on the telly,” Alex whispered, then looked at the priest. His eyebrow rose. “Sorry, uh, your excellency.” She wasn't a religious woman.

John didn’t hear a thing. Without realizing, he opened his arms to her.

Connie squeezed her father’s hand. “Papa,” she said in Spanish. “I want to go to him, now.” They were only halfway there. He stopped, lifted her veil, and kissed her cheek.

“Go, chiquita.”

She gave him a kiss, then shoved her bouquet in his hands. “Hold my flowers.” She grabbed twin handfuls of skirt and half-walked, half-ran the rest of the way, to the amusement of the guests and the befuddlement of her cousins, who ran after her holding her train. She jumped the steps of the gazebo and into his arms with a giggle. He took her face in his hands and kissed her cheek.

“Nice shoes,” he whispered.

“You noticed,” she said. She pulled up her skirt to expose the holographic sneakers. “They’re my something blue. And pink, and purple, and silver…”

“Nice kicks!!” Alex said, and held up her hand for a high five. Connie slapped it hard. Liv sniffled. Her father caught up, and stood beside them.

The priest cleared his throat. “May we begin?” he said pointedly.

“Absolutely!” John and Connie said together, then laughed. They moved in front of the priest and held hands.

The priest held his hand up for silence, but the whispers increased. Her father reached out to her. “Chiquita-”

She was so shocked she let go of John’s hands. “Mami?”

Her mother walked across the field to the wedding party, alone. Her long, straight brown hair blew in the wind, and her resplendent white made Connie’s eyes water.

“Of course she’s wearing white,” her father said. He groaned.

“Maman!” Connie said again, and walked off the gazebo. The wedding party watched as the bride ran to catch up with her mother’s steadily moving form. John looked around, irritated, and ran after her, whispering his apologies to the priest.

When she caught up, she was panting. “You came!” she said, and threw her arms around her mother. “I thought you said you weren’t crossing the country for a Scot.”

Her mother patted her back awkwardly, and held her out at arm’s length. “You’ve gained weight.”

Connie nodded. “Yeah. I’m doing much better now. And John knows how to cook.” As John walked up, he noticed that Connie’s body language changed. She was no longer a grown woman, but a girl trying to please her mother. Her green almond-shaped eyes drifted over Connie’s dress, and her grass-stained shoes.

“Charmant, if a bit silly,” she said.

Connie swallowed hard. “How was your trip?” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Passable,” she said, in a French accent she refused to get rid of.

“Victoire,” John said, holding out his hand. She looked at it, but did not shake it. “Thanks for coming to our wedding ceremony.”

“She’s my only child. Of course I came,” she said, sweeping her waist-length silky mane of hair over her shoulder.

“But you said you wouldn’t,” he said. “She was very upset about it.”

“I was in one of my moods when she called,” she said, and shrugged. “She knows.”

“Did she? Because she cried for days,” John said.

“She always cries,” Victoire said. “You should’ve known her as a child. It was her favorite thing to do. Cry and cry, and suck on the corner of her favorite blankie in her crib.”

He looked at them both, disbelieving. First at her mother for her callousness, and then at Connie, for being so complacent about it. She was smiling, of all things.

“Vicky!” Connie’s father said as he walked up, holding his arms out. “What a pleasure!”

“For you, yes,” she said, looking at his short, barrel-shaped form.

“What a lovely white gown you’re wearing,” he said. “But don’t you hate white, mi amor?” her father said, smiling tensely.

“I reserve the right to change my mind,” she said, twirling and giving John a warm grin. “And a beautiful woman doesn’t need glitter and fanfare to look impressive.” She waved her hand toward Connie. John grunted. Connie squeezed his hand. His breathing slowed to normal.

“Why didn’t you come earlier? You missed the bonfire on the beach,” Connie said.

“I don’t do bon fires,” she said, pronouncing ‘bon’ in the most French way. “What is that, even? What happened to indoor entertainment? It’s much more civilised than drinking in the mud.”

“John- we like it here. The coast is special to us,” she said, but her voice was devoid of its usual confidence. “You remember the story, don’t you?”

“Sexe sur la plage and all that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Ouiai. How romantic.”

Her father’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“It was a bit - it was, um, a lot more than -” she cleared her throat. “He proposed to me here.” She held out her left hand. Her mother took it and looked closely at her engagement ring.

“ils sont le couleur de la pisse,” she said about the diamonds. They’re the color of piss.

“No, mama. It’s concentrated sunshine, like he is.” He fidgeted beside her. She squeezed his hand again.

“Whatever you say,” Victoire said. “Just wait until he stops shining so bright.” She gave her ex-husband a pointed look.

“Okay, Vicky. That's enough,” he said, touching her elbow.

“What are you talking about?” she said, looking innocently at John. "He's more handsome in person, isn't he, cariño?" he said to Connie's father. The grainy webcam didn’t do him a bit of justice.

John was done with the drama. “We’re pleased you’re here, madame, but I’d like to marry your daughter now,” he said, stepping forward. “I see clearly now where Connie got her beauty.”

“In a certain light,” Victoire said. She smiled as her ex-husband gently pulled her toward the wedding party.

“In every kind of light,” John said, and gave the woman a crooked grin. He kissed Connie’s lips, and they jogged the rest of the way back to the gazebo. The wedding party whispered as Victoire walked to the front and sat down, not even bothering to apologize for the interruption.

“Everything okay?” Alex whispered, giving the woman an openly hostile look. Victoire crossed her legs and ignored her.

“Fine,” Connie said. “Don’t let her bother you. She’s a bit mad, but I knew she would come,” she said. “I’m so happy. We’re all here.” She smiled dreamily at John, and his heart swelled with love. She deserved so much. And he meant to do everything in his power to give it to her, every day.

“Are you ready now?” the priest said, hiding his irritation. He had another wedding at 7 pm down the coast.

“I love you, sweetheart,” John said. “And you look so beautiful it hurts.”

She rolled her eyes in Victoire’s direction. “She feels bigger when she gets the last word in. I let her, to make her feel important.” He made a face, and she caressed him. “It doesn't matter anyway. Your lovely gaze makes all the rough edges of the world smooth.”

He kissed her hand tenderly. “Sweet talker.”

“You just wait,” she whispered. The priest cleared his throat again. They both turned to look at him and smiled.

“Let’s make this official, padre,” John said. “And make it quick. I don't want to wait a second longer.”

Epilogue

PS - Told you all the original story had good bones 😉