Chapter 12
The painkillers knocked Buffy out, and the sun was bright when she awoke the next morning. She tentatively tested her ankle. A little tender, but nothing serious.
She showered and dressed, taking the steps at a slower pace than her usual morning bounce.
“Morning, Grammy.”
“Good morning dear.” Her grandmother hugged her close. “Are you sure you’re alright? How’s your ankle?”
“Nearly good as new. I’m fine, really.”
Her grandmother turned back to the pancakes she was flipping at the stove. “I am honestly shocked that Regina Thurber didn’t raise her son better than that. His father went and got him last night after we called them. Owen won’t be pulling a trick like that again anytime soon.”
“Gram, it’s okay. It’s not like he really did anything to me. He just had a little too much to drink.”
Her grandmother huffed as she slid the last of the fluffy stack onto a plate and carried it to Buffy. “Butter and syrup? And he was responsible for you, told us he’d look after you. At least you had the sense to get out of that truck. I shudder to think what could have happened if William hadn’t found you when he did.”
His name made a tight knot in her stomach that she was sure even pancakes couldn’t displace. “Well, fortunately he did. And no more parties for Buffy. I’m all partied out for the summer, I think.”
She cut into the stacks, trying not to think about the night before. Not one bit of it. Focusing on syrupy goodness instead. Much less complicated than declarations of love or announcements of impending departure.
Her grandmother continued to fuss around the kitchen, hovering while Buffy ate, until she was ready to laugh at the obvious scrutiny. “Grammy, I’m fine.” She stuck her ankle out and rotated it. “See? It‘s barely sore this morning. You don’t have to mother-hen me.”
She swallowed the last syrup drenched bite, then got up, ignoring the slight twinge, and walked gingerly over to the sink. Her grandmother dropped a quick kiss on her forehead as she took her plate. “I know, dear. I just don’t know what we’d do if something happened to our little Buffy.”
Buffy let the warmth of the words wrap around her. This morning, being little Buffy was a role she was happy to slip back into. “So are you getting excited about this weekend? Are you all packed, yet? Need for me to help?”
Her grandmother hung up the dishcloth. “Buffy, after what happened last night, we were thinking perhaps we should cancel our plans.”
There was no way she was going to let them miss their anniversary, not after more than fifty years together. “Gram, that’s crazy talk. You’ve been to that bed and breakfast every year since you got married. It’s only, what, like two hours away? You and Gramps are going. I told you, I’m fine.”
Her grandmother sighed. “I told Henry that’s what you’d say. But, Buffy, we’re going to have my friend Eileen come and stay with you at night, at the very least.”
She crossed her arms indignantly. “Gram! You promised this year I wouldn’t have to have a babysitter. For goodness sakes, I am a babysitter at home, I certainly don’t need one here.”
“Buffy, I know that you’re quite capable. But I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
Her grandmother sounded as though she were wavering a little. Buffy pressed her advantage. “Grammy, Mom has to go on overnight buying trips for the gallery and I stay alone then. If I can stay alone at home, surely I’d be okay here. This is Sunnydale. I’ll be safe as houses. Come on, Gram, you know Eileen doesn’t want to have to come stay out here. I’ll stay right here and be a little angel. No wandering Buffy, cross my heart.”
Her grandmother looked conflicted, but the cajoling had its desired effect. “Alright. I think you’ve proven that you can watch out for yourself. But I’ll leave all the numbers and you call if you have any problems, alright? We won’t leave until Friday afternoon, and we’ll be back early Sunday morning.”
“See, that’s no time at all. What can happen in a day and a half? You just worry about having a good time, okay?” Buffy gave her a wink. “Remind Gramps why he married you, yeah?”
She gave a giggle as she eased out the door to her grandmother’s mock indignant reproach, “Why, Buffy Anne Summers!”
Spike rubbed his eyes and loosened his tie. Between the couple of hours of sleep he’d gotten the night before and the drive this morning, he was already exhausted. But there were only a few more hours of meetings now, and then he could go crash out at the hotel.
“Mr. Aetherton?”
He turned to the blonde secretary who was smiling flirtatiously at him. “Can I help you?”
“You have a message.” She tucked the scrap of paper in his hand and walked away, putting a little extra oomph in her step for his benefit. He failed to notice. She’d taken down the number of his grandfather, and the accompanying message: Call as soon as your meetings are through tomorrow.
He wondered what that was all about.
“Will? We’re ready to start back.”
“Thanks, Bob. Be with you in a moment.” He tossed back the rest of his black coffee and headed back into the office.
The caffeine gave him a boost and he found his concentration improving as the afternoon drew to a close. He realized that their work this summer was even more of a success than they’d thought as he listened to the various members of the committee discuss the findings and give their reviews of the report. Mr. Summers was going to be very pleased to hear this. As was his grandfather.
“So we’ll meet back here tomorrow to talk about the next phase?” Professor Jenners announced at he closed the meeting.
Spike nodded his assent. “Bright and early.”
He walked out into the intense California sun, sliding on his sunglasses against the glare. He was tired, but he had one more stop to make. Time to buy that ticket back home.
Buffy clicked off the flashlight and dropped it beside her as she laid back and stared at the stars. It was quiet tonight, even the crickets seem to have stopped their tune, and the gurgle of the stream was muted. The moon was almost full in the nearly cloudless night sky and she traced the paths of familiar constellations in the heavens above.
She let her mind drift as she watched the stars. Things were coming to an end. Her father was back from Spain. He’d called today, to check in, apologize for not coming up earlier. She’d accepted the words for what they were worth, as well as the promise of the trinkets he’d brought her as souvenirs.
He’d be coming to take her home in two weeks.
The thought of leaving made her stomach flip. Here, she felt safe. Here, things didn’t change. As long as she was here, she didn’t have to play ping-pong between her parents. Didn’t have to be a senior and make life-changing decisions about classes and SATs and college and life.
Except, that wasn’t exactly true anymore and she was too old to pretend otherwise. Nothing stayed the same forever, not even Sunnydale. Her grandparents wouldn’t always be here. She could see the tremble in her grandfather’s hand, the lines around her grandmother’s eyes.
And she’d changed this summer. For better or worse, this thing with Spike, the push and pull between them, the romance and heartbreak, it all blurred together, leaving her a little older, a little wiser.
But still so very lonely.
The little girl in her wanted to stomp her foot and snarl at him for being a coward and running away after telling her he loved her. If you really loved someone, you didn’t do that. You stayed, you sacrificed, you made it work. Somehow.
The nascent adult in her countered that she was expecting a lot if she thought that. He had a life somewhere else. Family she’d never met, friends she’d never seen. He had a future elsewhere and so did she.
Guess that meant love really didn’t conquer all. She snorted ungracefully. Big surprise that. All it did was give you blinders for awhile. And hers were off now.
She rose to her feet and clicked on the flashlight, picking her way carefully on the uneven path towards the house. Her feet slowed of their own accord as she passed the door of the old garage. He wasn’t there to give her a soft smooch and send her floating up to her room as he had so many nights before. And he never would again. Come Monday, all she’d be left with would be a few memories.
She lingered at the door, debating with herself for only a moment before standing on her toes to fish the key from above the doorjamb. She slid the lock free, and left off the lights as she slipped inside and made her way over to the empty bed.
He’d tossed the blanket over the sheets in some limited attempt at making it appear neat before he‘d left. She drew back the covers and sat down. Remembered the night of the Fourth, when he’d carried her here, tossed her down and given her a taste of something she didn’t know how to stop craving even now.
She buried her face in the pillow then, breathing in his lingering scent, the unique fragrance of him that was burned into her memory. She curled around the pillow, letting the tears come. She knew this was foolish, really. To be in tears over a summer romance, a fling, a dalliance that had been meant to fade as sure as the leaves changed their color and the frost touched the ground.
As her sobs slowed and she caught her breath, she wiped at the traces of salt that remained. Maybe it was better that he was leaving. She hadn’t thought it would be this hard. She hadn’t thought she’d fall in love.
She’d been so stupid.
Spike slid the key card impatiently in the lock. “C’mon, c’mon, open.” The lock obligingly switched to green and he flung open the door as he hurried to the phone and dialed in the series of number to reach his grandfather. He checked his watch. It was late, but Grand should be up. He’d be expecting his call.
“Grand? I didn’t wake you, did I?” He couldn’t wait to spill the news. “Grand, they think it went fantastically well. They’re convinced that it’ll allow us to use the hybrids we’d wanted for that new vineyard without risk that the whole thing’ll get wiped out in a season. It‘s exactly what you and Mr. Summers had hoped for.”
He worked loose the buttons in his shirt as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line.
“I absolutely think you should go ahead with the plans. If those reports came back as solid as you say, there’s no reason to wait. The market’s perfect for expansion, I’ve done some exploring in the area and there are several vineyards that could be acquired reasonably.”
He tossed the shirt in the corner and flopped back on the bed before sitting bolt upright.
“What was that again?”
Even over thousands of miles, there was no mistaking what his grandfather had just proposed.
“You want me to stay here and oversee the development? But what about finishing up with school?”
His grandfather hadn’t thought of this yesterday, Spike could tell. He’d already started the wheels in motion to get him a leave of absence, to set him up with the necessary visas and finances. To fully become a part of the Aetherton empire, something a few years ago he wouldn’t have thought possible given his past screw-ups. He fought the sting of something that felt suspiciously like tears against his eyelids as he realized just what this offer from his grandfather meant.
“Are you serious? Do you really think I’m ready for this, Grand?”
“I have absolute confidence in you, William.” The voice reaching across the distance had no hesitation.
“I’ll need you to come back soon for us to work out the details on this end. Why don’t you go ahead and take the next week or so, finish up with Henry and get yourself set up in L.A? I’ll tell Mary to have accounting set you up with expenses.” His grandfather paused. “That is, if you want this, William. I’ll give you time to think it over, if you prefer.”
Spike was still clutching the phone in disbelief. “Grand, are you sure you’re feeling okay? Cause I thought I heard you just offer to let me head up the new division.”
His grandfather’s deep laugh sounded in his ear. “Will, my boy, don’t doubt yourself. I wouldn’t have offered you the job if you couldn’t do it. You’ve been working for the company in some capacity for years now. This new label was your brainchild. I’ve got someone there now who could handle it, but he doesn’t have your passion for the project. So I’m willing to take the chance, if you are.”
After another moment of silence as Spike tried to compose his thoughts, his grandfather gave him some breathing room. “William, I know it’s a big decision. Take the weekend, think it over. If you want, look around a bit, I’ll call Lilah and have her pull up some rental properties, let you see what’s on the market, there. You can call me on Monday.”
“I will. And thank you, sir.” Spike placed the receiver down slowly, staring at the molded plastic as though it would somehow offer an explanation. He could stay here next year, probably longer. Work on his dream project. He missed home, but he’d grown used to the warm California days and bright nights.
And then there was the flashing neon sign tap-dancing in the corner of his brain. Buffy.
He hadn’t ever considered that this could happen. From the first time he’d kissed her, he’d always known they had an expiration date. But now? They had time. If she was willing.
Would she be? Things in Sunnydale were so much less complicated, days and nights that drifted along, and things here . . . wouldn’t be. It hit him then, hard. Bugger. He’d be dating a high school student, worried about proms and homework, while he juggled meetings in the corporate world with accountants and attorneys. It all seemed almost too surreal to even contemplate, and made him suddenly feel very old.
He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed, remembering the beauty of her wide eyes as she’d whispered the question – could he ever have loved her. He’d told her that he already did.
And that meant he’d be a fool to not at least try. Maybe it’d be more than they could handle. But if it wasn’t . . . he sat up abruptly and grabbed his suitcase, tossing clothing inside with total disregard.
If it wasn’t, it would be the best thing that ever happened to him.
He’d planned to spend the rest of the weekend hanging out with friends, but this changed everything. He needed to see her. Tonight.
Buffy waved at the door as her grandparents pulled away. They were so cute. She shook her head, crazy kids. If only everyone were so lucky.
She wandered back into the living room and pilfered around on the bookshelf, looking for a distraction in the paperbacks there. Just what any female with a bruised heart needed - a little fantasy romance. Perfect.
She ran up the stairs and threw on her swimsuit, grabbed the bodice ripper and a blanket and headed down to the stream to while away the remaining daylight hours.
By the time she’d gotten about a hundred pages into it, Buffy was ready to toss the book into the stream.
Isabella was a simpering idiot. So far she’d been kidnapped, tied in a cave, ravished, and then abandoned by Raoul, and now she was welcoming him back with open arms? Ready to be at his beck and call after he’d treated her like crap? Please. And if Raoul flexed his pecs one more time, she thought she’d scream. He sounded like a muscle bound meathead.
Now if she were coming up with the perfect hero, she’d make him lean, with muscles that you could feel dancing beneath the surface of his skin. Not too tall, with clear blue eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless day.
The words swam a little on the page and she laughed at herself. Who was she kidding? She’d make her hero Spike, right down to that little scar on his face that made his perfection that much more real. And she’d have more ravishing.
“Buffy?”
She jumped. Okay, fantasizing was one thing, but she might just have crossed into hallucinating.
“Buffy, you down here?”
She rolled over on the blanket to see the object of her imagination in front of her and sat up quickly. “Spike? What are you doing here? I thought you weren‘t coming back until Sunday?”
He ignored her questions and dropped to his knees in front of her, eyes alight. “What if I told you I wasn’t leaving?"