DISCLAIMER:
The wonderful original characters from
the CBS television series Scarecrow and Mrs. King are the property of Warner
Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions; they don't belong to me, nor will I
get one dime for writing this story. The story and all of the new characters,
however, are mine. Please don't archive without my permission. This story will
be archived at the SMK Fanfic Archive and at www.fanfiction.net.
All others—please ask.
AUTHOR: matahari2
SUMMARY:
AU – Sequel to Stormy Weather: Lee and Amanda struggle against
their toughest adversary.
TIMEFRAME: April, 2002
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: Please. Read and review.
STORMY WEATHER II
Chapter One – Holding Pattern
Stetson Residence – two days after Jamie’s return
The comforting scents of an all-American homemade
dinner still hung in the air, long after the majority of the partakers of said
dinner had exited the scene. Jenny had gone upstairs to catch up on the
homework she’d set aside for the last several days. Lee and Phillip had taken
the unusually warm, lazy Sunday afternoon as an opportunity to bond while
washing and waxing Phillip’s ’99 Corvette out in the driveway. Only Amanda and
Jamie remained. Pushing away from her place at the dinner table and picking up
both Jamie’s plate and her own, Amanda asked, “Are you sure you don’t want any
apple pie? Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No thanks, Mom—really,” Jamie answered, rubbing a
hand over his full stomach. “After all the fried chicken and mashed potatoes
and corn-on-the-cob, and everything else we had for dinner, I don’t think I
could manage one more bite.” As he followed her into the kitchen with their
silverware and glasses, he was quick to add, “It was great, though, especially
after all the meals I missed, you know. . .over there.”
“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’m glad you liked it,”
she said, with a sweet smile on her lips as she took the glasses and silverware
and put them into the sink. Amanda tried not to think about all that Jamie had
been through ‘over there’; she just wanted to enjoy having him home with the
family. She rinsed the last of the dishes and bent to place them into the
dishwasher, when she saw Jamie trying to stifle a yawn. “Pretty tired, aren’t
ya?” she asked, as she closed the dishwasher and flipped its lever.
“Mm-hm,” Jamie replied, holding his hand over his
mouth to cover another yawn. “Guess I’m still kinda jet-lagged. I think maybe I
better go lie down,” he said, as he turned and headed for the stairs.
“You go right ahead, Jamie,” she answered.
Stuffing her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans, she rocked back and
forth on her heels as she called up to him, “I’ll be right here if you need
anything!”
“Thanks, Mom. . .” he trailed off as he padded on
up the stairs.
Thinking that the room felt a little warm, what
with the steam from the dishwasher and the heat from the oven, she walked over
to the kitchen window and opened it a little ways to let in some fresh air. As
she started to sponge off the kitchen counters, she couldn’t help hearing two
male voices, apparently deep in conversation just below the window.
********
She heard Phillip’s voice first. “Sure is a small
world, isn’t it? I mean. . .go figure. My brother goes all the way to
Afghanistan, gets himself kidnapped by a group of Al Qaeda wannabe’s, and ends
up meeting one of my old friends from high school. Weird, huh?”
“Yeah. . .” Lee answered with a reflective smile
and a brief nod, “it is, at that.” He
focused his attention on the toothbrush he was using to clean the crevices in
the wheel cover and appeared to be deep in thought.
Phillip rubbed a chamois in wide circles over the
freshly waxed hood. Looking up from his task for a second, he said, “Hey, Lee.
. .can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Chief,” Lee answered from the opposite side
of the car.
“How could you not have seen me the other night? I
mean, I always thought you were a good, defensive driver. . .at least that’s
how you taught me to drive, and. . .”
Lee dropped the toothbrush and wiped his hand on
his jeans before he looked up at Phillip. He glanced at the ground for an
instant and slid his fingers down over the back of his hair. “Oh. . .you mean,
about almost. . .”
“Yeah,” Phillip interrupted, “the other night,
when you almost sideswiped this car on the Beltway! I mean I know you were
worried about Jamie at the time, but hey, we all were. So what’s up, Lee?”
“You do have a way of getting right to the point,
dontcha?” Lee teased, as he stood up to lean his back against the big old elm
tree. “Well. . .” he began, shoving his hands into his pockets. “To tell you
the truth, I wish I knew. See, it’s only happened two times while I was
driving—there was our near-miss, and another one the night before,” he
confessed. He kicked away from the tree and walked back toward the car as he
thrust a hand up anxiousy, saying, “Phillip, it scared me to death. . .
thinking you could’ve been hurt. . .and all because I couldn’t see your car
until it was almost too late!” He dropped his hand to his side and locked eyes
with his stepson as he said with all the sincerity he could muster, ”Hey. .
.I’m really sorry!”
“It’s okay. . .we both survived,” Phillip said,
holding up his hand in a wave of dismissal and concentrating on the car’s hood
once again. Then in a flash, he whipped his head up as he shouted, “Wait a
minute! Did I hear you say you couldn’t see?” He absently continued to move the
chamois around as he inquired further, “Was it like you suddenly couldn’t see
anything, or was it more like your range of vision was narrower than normal?”
“Yeah. . .” Lee started, gazing off into the
distance for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He turned his eyes back toward
his stepson, saying, “I could still see most things. . .just nothing, you know,
off to the side.”
Phillip nodded, then looked directly into Lee’s
eyes. “Let me ask you another question,” he began. “Have you been having a lot
of headaches lately?”
“What are you. . .psychic, Doctor King?” Lee
asked, with a wink and a lopsided grin. At Phillip’s no-nonsense expression, he
confessed, “Well, all right. . .yes. . .now that you mention it, I have been
having headaches. . .for over three weeks now. Seems like they’re the worst in
the morning. Usually they get better as the day wears on, but for the last
several days, they’ve just hung on. . .”
“And no amount of pain reliever seems to help,
right?” Phillip interjected, a concerned frown on his face. “Have you seen a
doctor yet?”
“No, but. . .” Lee started, but not before his
stepson the surgical resident could interrupt.
“No buts, Lee—you need to see a doctor right
away!” Phillip warned.
“Okay, okay. . .cool your jets, Chief!” Lee said,
moving his hands, palms down, in a ‘quiet down’ motion. “I already made an
appointment. . .Friday, 9:00 a.m. Now. . .are you satisfied?”
“I guess so,” Phillip said, in grudging
acceptance. “D’you tell Mom about it?” he asked, as he rubbed the chamois over
the sleek, black fender. He looked across the car into his stepfather’s eyes as
he waited for the answer.
Lee started to rub over the fender on his side of
the car as he considered his reply. “Well. . .she knows about the headaches and
the first near-miss accident, and I guess from what she tells me, you all think
I’ve been more than a little irritable lately.”
“You can say that again,” Phillip muttered under
his breath. Then he looked up, realizing Lee had probably heard him, and he
said aloud, pointing a finger at his stepfather and friend, “but seriously,
Lee, you keep that appointment, okay?”
“You bet,” Lee answered. “You know your mother’ll
see to it!” He heard a soft click, and looked up over Phillip’s head to see the
kitchen window closing. He rolled his eyes slightly as he went back to helping
Phillip polish the car.
********
After closing the window, Amanda filled a large mug
with water and placed it into the microwave oven, setting the cook-timer and
touching the ‘start’ button as she mulled over the pieces of the conversation
she’d overheard. Neither Lee nor Phillip had told her about their
almost-accident on the Beltway. ‘Probably didn’t want to upset me,’ she
figured, her eyes focused on a distant unseen object as she opened the box of
cinnamon tea bags. She couldn’t help remembering how shaken Lee had been by his
first near-miss on the highway, the night he’d followed her home from the
repair shop. She’d known something was wrong night before last, too, when he’d
looked so worried even as Francine had called to give them the good news of
Jamie’s escape. The microwave’s loud ding-ding-ding startled her, and she
shuddered in surprise before taking the mug out and dipping one of the tea bags
into it. She set the mug down on the counter top, taking in a few calming
breaths as she ran shaking hands down the sides of her jeans. She could tell
from his questions that Phillip must have suspected something about Lee’s
condition. . .something he might have learned in med school, or in his job as a
surgical resident. What could it be? In her heart of hearts, she wasn’t sure
she wanted to know—the possibilities were too frightening. Her brows drew
together as she thought about Lee’s every-morning headaches becoming worse.
That was definitely something she’d worry about until they had some real
answers. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.
|
NEXT CHAPTER |
