Work Text:
Instead of the radio, a medley of Cooper voices plays on the ride home from Thornhill.
Alice is the quiet one for once as she soaks in her family. Polly goes on about her short stint as a Blossom with Betty and Hal interpreting every few seconds with questions. The three of them talk over one another, yet Alice still hears everything. Of course she does. The three of them are the three most import things in the world to her. Their voices play as if in slow motion, letting her absorb every word. Her blood is still rushing from her run in with Clifford and Penelope, but for the first time in months, the hole in her heart feels full.
Hal’s smile takes over his entire face. She wonders how lonely he’s been these last few weeks, sleeping on the old sofa at The Register that’s seen better days and better nights - and it’s fair share of afternoon delight - with no company. Every few seconds he looks to the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of their girls in the backseat.
It’s the first time in nearly four months they’ve all been together. The Cooper family reunited at last.
Well, not quite reunited.
Hal looks to the mirror again, that perfect smile never faltering. She fights the urge to reach out for his hand. To hold it, rub her fingers over his knuckles. To let him twist her wedding ring on her finger, one of the silent ways he says ‘I love you.’
She wants to hold his face, rub the bit of scruff there before he shaves it away in the morning. She wants his hands on her, to pull her close. She wants to be kissed. She wants to feel loved again. To feel wanted. She wants things to the way they were before.
Before what though?
Before the brick? Before the fight? Before Polly’s pregnancy? Before her own?
She may still be wounded, but she’s not angry anymore. Not angry at anyone but herself for letting this go on so long. For letting everything go unspoken and fall apart.
Hal pulls into the driveway as Polly recaps a tale of discovering Clifford’s wig collection. He makes no attempt to unbuckle his seatbelt as the rest of them do. Betty and Polly each open their doors and pause, mouths ajar.
“Mom -”
“Dad -”
“Betty.” She looks looks next door instead of at her kids. Fred’s garage light is on and she prays Archie isn’t in the middle of a 2 am jam session. “Go make up Polly’s bed for her. Please.”
“I want to sleep in Betty’s room tonight.” Polly sounds firm but her voice breaks. “Please, Mom?”
Betty’s voice is hopeful. “Dad, are you -”
“How about,” Hal’s hands are still on the steering wheel as he cranes his neck to look in the backseat, “I stop by tomorrow night to see you girls?”
She senses the protests from her daughters before their mouths even open and she shushes them.
“Come inside, Hal.”
He looks to her for the first time since they left Thornhill. His eyes wide and jaw slack, he tries to read her but she keeps her face as neutral as possible.
“It’s fine, Alice,” he finally says. “It’s late. I have an early morning.”
“Go inside, girls.”
Betty and Polly say good night instead of goodbye, which means they know how this will end.
Good.
She waits for the front door to close. Hal’s mouth is still open, words caught on his tongue. Her teeth bite the inside of her cheek as she tries to keep her expression blank. For once, she wants him to make the first move.
“I’ll sleep in the basement, Alice, if that’s okay with you.”
She shakes her head, her ponytail swinging back and forth. “Do you know how hard it is to fall asleep in an empty bed?”
He offers her a wry smile. The smile of that boy she fell in love with twenty-odd years ago. “Probably easier than falling asleep in the office.”
“It’s not.” She reaches for his hand and squeezes. “We both know you can fall asleep anywhere.”
They meet halfway down the front seat. With her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her, she feels safe at once. She’s sixteen all over again, back in his first car with the same long bench seat. Perfect for parking at Miller’s Point and teaching nice Northside boys all that Southside girls had to offer. Perfect for long drives and conversations and affirmations and her learning there was so much more a boy could want from her than just her body.
Hal’s chin comes to rest on the top of her head and he rocks her slowly.
“Oh, Al.” Her heart swells at the nickname he hasn’t used in years. “I am so sorry. The Blossoms. I should have told you all that back when -”
“I don’t care about the Blossoms.” She speaks against his soft his shirt. “Polly’s home. She’s safe. That’s all I care about.”
“Stealing those files from Tom. I should have said something.”
She thinks to how she sent two teenagers to break and enter into a home just a few days ago. If she’s honest, she’s impressed Hal did it himself. “I’ve done worse, Hal. You were just protecting us.”
He pushes her just enough away that he can look her in the eye. “Dinner the other night. I knew what Betty was up to. I shouldn’t have come.”
“No. No, it’s good you came.” She strokes his face. His eyes close and her husband melts under her touch. “The Register. The - the brick. I lost it. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He slides her hand over his lips and kisses her knuckles. “You can take the girl out of the Southside,” he teases.
“Don’t you dare finish that thought.” But she laughs. She laughs like she hasn’t in months. He pulls her in again and he smells like the office. Ink and dust and coffee. The smells ingrained into him since he was just that dorky kid editing the Blue and Gold.
“I want to come home, Alice,” he whispers into her hair. It’s still up in a ponytail and his fingers twist around the ends of her curls. She wants to pull it free and let him play with it. “I want us to be a family again.”
It’s all she wants to hear. She nods her head and he grips her tighter, afraid she’ll get away from him again.
His voice is soft, low when he speaks. “About back then. High school. Homecoming.” He clears his throat. “If I could go back, do things diff-”
She presses a finger to his mouth. “Don’t,” she whispers. “It was a lifetime ago. I don’t want to restart this talking about our regrets.”
He sighs when she takes her finger away. “I do regret it though.”
“Me too.” She sees the curtains move in the living room and she knows Betty and Polly are checking on them. “But I don’t regret this. I don’t regret you, Hal. Or this life we have or the family we made. I love you.”
He presses a kiss to her lips. Soft at first. Shy and gentle like so many of those kisses he gave her early in their relationship. She deepens it herself and when she pulls away some time later, the curtains in the living room are still, her girls satisfied their parents are okay.
They stay out there for some time more, enjoying the closeness of the front seat even though their bed is a short walk upstairs. She feels sixteen again, in love for the first time and never letting go.