Work Text:
A few hours later, after not nearly enough sleep for a grown adult, Chris came bounding back into his bungalow on his way to the kitchen. He desperately needed some coffee, and hadn’t had a chance to fetch some for them before Mariska reminded him they needed to get back to their families.
”Just a walk, huh?” Sherman raised her eyebrows as soon as she caught his gaze.
Chris stopped mid-stride to look back at her from the threshold to the interior. He hadn’t noticed her curled up on the comfortable cushions that lined the couches on their porch.
“Chris,” she warned. “It’s a good thing the kids aren’t here this time. They’re getting older.”
“Yeah,” he grunted, barely hung-over, but feeling the late, or rather very early-morning, bedtime excruciatingly this time.
“You do realize they’re going to start noticing, right?” Sherman said as she sat up, her hands on her knees.
He made a non-committal noise, but turned towards her.
“I just think this is something we should talk about.” She was all business.
Chris nodded, coming back onto the lanai and taking a seat across from his wife.
“What do you want to tell them?” She asked him. Why did she always have to be so direct?
He floundered, not finding the words, his hands making motions that neither of them could interpret.
“Look, I’m happy for you.” And she meant it, despite everything they’d been through. She could understand the urge, and had to admit she thought they were cute together. “But you’ve got to stop pretending there isn’t something going on. You’ve got to get a handle on this. Next time–” He knew, next time they might not be so lucky. They could get caught by someone worse than his own kids, worse than his own wife.
“I know.” He exhaled like he’d been holding it in for ten years. “I just need time.”
Sherman looked at her husband like she was going to strangle him.
“I know, I know.” He held up his hands in defense. “I need time to convince her to tell the truth. Okay?”
His eyes, his whole body, pleaded with her. She’d given him so much grace over the years; he hated to continue doing this to her, asking so much of her.
Chris hung his head in his hands, and Sherman moved over next to him. Hugging a soft yellow pillow into her chest as she wrapped her other arm around his back and rubbed him gently. She always knew how to tell him it would be okay.
When he lifted his head, tears were in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She brushed it off. “Chris, we’re on the same page.” She rubbed his back some more while he pulled himself together. “Now, go get us some coffee and you can tell me all about it?” She patted his bottom as he got up and smiled to herself.
