Week 23 - Fix

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I'll be the high that never lets you down
the one you crave when no one is around
I'll be your smooth ride, that late night, your Walter White high
I'll be your first time, that's so right
Get you fallin' in love at the end of the night
With that good-ish, that long trip, that sugar on your lips
That favorite habit, gotta have it, you can't quit
I got your fix

----Fix, Chris Lane

Week Twenty-Three
Your baby is as big as a grapefruit

January 15, 2022

Cait entered the house after driving Connor to soccer practice with his club team. She had time to do a couple of things before she left for her yoga class. 

Connor was going to lunch and getting a ride home with one of his teammates, which would have her on pins and needles until he arrived. But she knew he was growing up and she had to let him have some freedom. And he'd seemed like he was in a pretty good mood that morning.

The minute she stepped in the door, she heard the string of profanities erupt from the direction of the nursery. She did her best to maintain a straight face as she stepped in the doorway. "Grayson," she frowned at her husband, hands spread across her baby bump, "they have ears, you know. Can't you keep it PG?"

"This is the stupidest design in history," he huffed. "How did you manage to pick out a crib designed by an utter and complete moron?"

He was sitting in the middle of the room, the contents of one of the boxes spread out around him. The toolbox that he almost never used was open and he was holding a screwdriver and studying an instruction book, which he suddenly turned as he examined it.

"I can just call someone-" Cait started.

"No, Goddammit," he snapped. "I can do this. It isn't my fault that the engineering is crap."

She wanted to ask exactly what a psychology major knew about engineering, but decided that probably wasn't the way to go right now. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"Just leave me alone," he snapped. "I've got an hour until I have to leave for shoot around. And keep the dog out of here," he added.

Cait snapped her fingers at Shooter, who had been laying quietly in a corner, seemingly shell shocked by the events taking place, and he obediently followed her into the kitchen, where she got him a bone. "Don't worry," she whispered to the dog. "We're both safer out here."

*****

"Any progress?" Cait asked, when Grayson finally emerged. 

"I don't want to talk about it," he frowned.  "I'll work on it more later today."

Cait held up her hands and then returned to the red pepper she was cutting up. Grayson went to get his bag and returned to the kitchen on his way out.

"Maybe Marsh can give you a hand when he gets here," she suggested gently.

"I got it," Grayson frowned at her. "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"Actually," Cait said quickly, "can I hitch a ride with you?  I talked to Marshall while you were closeted in the nursery and he's going to pick me up from yoga when he gets in.  He didn't want to come to the house when we weren't home, which I told him was silly but he insisted."

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