RP:And So It Goes
Part of the Through A Glass, Darkly Arc
Summary: Three part rp involving the unfolding drama of Kanze's Unicorn Water Hot Tub, Nude Celebrity ice sculptures, Candice Snow, and a new addition (hopefully the last) to the already expansive Landon empire.
I spoke to you in cautious tones You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much My silence is my self defense
But if my silence made you leave Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you And you can have this heart to break
So I would choose to be with you That's if the choice were mine to make
And so it goes, and so it goes And you're the only one who knows " *
Part I
Landon Real Estate
Candice didn't plan on showing up at Hudson's office. She'd received Hudson's letter Maggie, the woman in charge of staging, after arranging the flowers on the kitchen table just so. She'd planned to wait to open it but giddy with the thought that he'd accepted her offer floods her with teenage level excitement. He took the picture home, fell asleep beside his tired, pregnant wife and thought about her photo. The tasteful yet playful posture, showing a little but promising a lot more. She snuck off to one of the many first floor bathrooms and opened it greedily.
She showed up shortly after to the real estate office, chatting pleasantly with the receptionist while she's waited for an audience with Hudson. He was a busy man, after all. Once allowed past the barrier of desks and employees, Candice slinks in through a crack in Hudson's office door and it opens with a fanfare of groaning oak. She looks up at him, trying to read his expression but failing, and decides to start with a smile. “Hope I'm not interrupting,” she lets herself in, finger tracing the velvet chair backing with precision. “I just got your note and thought it might be best discussed in person?” It sounded like a question to give him the illusion of a choice. He'd ‘allow’ her to be here since she didn't outright demand it. Her blonde hair is on point, in humble tumble curls and she's dressed in a smart asymmetrical dress with bold lines and chunks of color.
Hudson begins the day with an efficient sense of resolve. He will fire Candice Snow. He sends a letter to her first thing and settles into clearing the paper from his desk. It's a productive morning, and he'd nearly forgotten about her when she struts in confidently after being let in by Joanie. Right. He looks up with a harried expression of appraisal. His immediate thought is that she looks well put together, stunning even .. and far too overconfident in this interaction. He releases a small sigh, his brow creasing. "Yeah," he agrees, holding her gaze. He begins to recite the practiced talking points that he always uses in these situations. "Listen, I'm afraid it isn't good news. I have to let you go, Candice. This is part of a reduction in force, not linked to your performance, which has been good." The knives of the corporate world were sharp too, but they didn't look it. He briefly remembers the conversation with Valrae in the nail salon in Larket, when he'd had to let her go too. That hadn't gone so smoothly. There'd been no blaming it on anything other than what it is. Between them and now, though, Hudson's operation has grown more sophisticated, more lawyered. They were his soldiers too. Though he's got no reason to fear that she'd run to the press, he won't give Candice Snow ammunition to come at him or his wife. "I can write you a reference, obviously. Or put you in touch with people, my neighbor, who could help you re-launch your career."
Candice perches on the edge of one of the chairs on her side of the desk. She keeps her chin up, lashes curled and lowered, while she listens. For whatever reason, the former actress doesn’t look the least bit surprised or flustered by this news. She knows it has nothing to do with her performance, every house she touched sold just as quickly. Candice had an eye for designer layouts and expensive tastes. She knew how to appeal because it was appealing to her. Hudson was the same way, he just didn’t know it yet. He can bark all he wants about refusing her offer but it’s clear he’s considered it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t need to fire her. So either, his wife knew and he was in trouble or his wife didn’t know and he didn’t want to be tempted. Either way, it’s not a hard no. It’s a fluid answer, steeped in saying the right words for the situation. “Of course,” Candice nods with patient understanding, resting her palm against her chest. “I’m flattered you think so highly of my work.” She didn’t have the same relationship with Hudson that Valrae did, not that she knew much about that to begin with. When he offers to connect her with his neighbors, the infamous Wests, she perks up further. “Thank you, I’d love that.” The meeting won’t be overlong. That’s not how cat and mouse games work. She stands, straightening her creaseless dress in an effort to let him shamelessly look at her petite frame. “I appreciate all you’ve done to help me,” the undercurrent of the sentiment is prickly. Did she mean with his actions with Sterling or his agreement to give her this peon level job in the first place? “Your assistant, JoAnne, is positively lovely. It was nice working with you.” She waits a beat, halfway towards the door, and looks over her shoulder at him robustly. “I look forward to working more with you in the future.”
Hudson is relieved when the news that she can no longer work for him seems to land safely on Candice, that she seems hardly surprised, even, perhaps relieved. Either way, she is extremely gracious in her response. Must be that actress training, the suppression of ugly emotions has to come in handy. He smiles ruefully at her, feeling appreciation toward her in the end. Was it all really that easy? So Sterling was gone, and Candice wasn't an evil mastermind, just barking up the wrong tree for her next sugar daddy. Turns out they're both adults and she can take his rejection. "Well, thank you, for your understanding," he says, and stands when she does, giving her a second to adjust her clothing before reaching out across the table to shake her hand. He sees and hears what he wants to, and processes her thank you as relating to her recent welcome in Cenril, and that alone. "You'll land on your feet, I think," he says, a little playfully, in a tacit acknowledgment that she's still glamorous and beautiful and perhaps wasting her time staging houses. "And yeah, Joanie's great. She'll set you up with the Easts. Anyway." He offers her a tidy smile, the sort that concludes a conversation, but she doesn't need it, she's on her way out. She makes an amicable parting remark about working together one day, and he continues to be relieved that this has been so easy. "I'm sure our paths will cross again, even Cenril can feel small sometimes," he replies. "Take care."
Part II
Four Reasons Hotel, Cenril
News of Kanze’s art exhibit floods the papers. Every day for the past week articles have run predicting the hush hush project and highlighting other famous reveals through the course of his (and Kam’s) career in the spotlight. Word on the street is that it’s for a new performance piece and art experts have been invited, along with a slew of celebrities including but not limited to Mayor Uma, Saylor Twift, Rianna, Candice Snow and Beunce. The Landons are also, predictably, on the guest list. Their carriage arrives to the magically lit and positively LIT Four Reasons hotel. A plush red carpet’s been rolled out for the arriving guests and paparazzi line the roped off areas to howl questions as they pass. To Alvina, the sounds whirl by in an incoherent blur of noise. Hudson helps her out of the carriage, sporting some hip celebrity mom get up. It’s a white, low cut dress that appears to have no bra attached. Gold ropes bind the dress to her ribs, letting the loose fabric flow out around her stomach. To add a flirty flair, the dress was also designed to have a slit cut up one side, exposing a sliver of thigh. Alvina does not feel flirty or flair-y. She feels swollen and tired, but the Easts were their neighbors and they supported them both professionally and personally. Once inside, the lobby is hot with stark white spotlights overhead. There’s a table with champagne glasses stacked in a pyramid fashion with the top glass magically overflowing to fill the others in a neat waterfall. Waiters circle with large plates of exotic and expensive food. The closest one Alvina can see looks like Duck confit wrapped in gold leaf…? In one corner is a gigantic (but still to scale) nude ice sculpture of Kanze. An equally large and lifelike sculpture of Kam compliments it in the opposite corner. Music bumps from a glittering room down the hall and ahead a throng of people are gathered for the unveiling of the ‘art’ project. Alvina is already tired and leans into Hudson’s arm as they go. A group near the dance floor pop a bottle of champagne and spray the Kanze display, screaming with laughter over the dull beat.
Candice, on the other hand, arrives alone and draped in a slinky gold number with matching heels. She struts down the red carpet, smiling and waving as reports ask her soft questions about her life and potential come back as an actress in Cenril. No one asks about Sterling and she’s pleasantly surprised. Once she makes it into the lobby, she helps herself to a Kam Cocktail (which obviously included too much vodka) and circles the room making small talk and laughing with exaggerated amusement at any man’s jokes. She spots Hudson out of the corner of her eye, circling with his swollen wife, and chuckles privately but doesn’t approach them. Kam is calling for everyone’s attention on a stage draped in a giant white cloth. “I just want to say how proud I am of my husband’s accomplishments.” All the guests turn to clap in her direction while she recaps what the press has already reported about the project; the title of the piece was ‘Famously’ and was supposed to shine a light on the industry as a whole. A political piece, if you will.
Alvina, unable to partake in cocktails, watches a waiter stop nearby with a tray with mini chocolate mousse cups sprinkled with tiny miniature gold coins. She plucks one off the tray, eats it in one bite and then snags another while no one is looking. If she’s going to be out and pregnant, she should be able to get away with this.
Hudson wears the same tuxedo to every event. Incidentally, it is also the same tuxedo in which he got married. Being a man is a great hack for simplifying getting dressed for a fancy shindig. In any event, he is sure to compliment how Alvina looks in her dress, which he can tell was selected by a member of their PR team. Because there's no way Alvina would have chosen this for herself, much less found the energy to go suss out evening maternity wear.
She's moderately less grumpy than usual, despite the late stage of her pregnancy. Maybe going to a party is fun on some level. They circulate throughout the room, saying hello to various other important people in the creative industry, eating whatever is presented to them by the circling waitstaff. Hudson is drinking champagne, not a lot, just enough to be pleasantly buzzed and tolerant of conversations with strangers. He's playful and affectionate to Alvina, too, that always happens when either one of them has been drinking. It's more fun when both of them are. As the night wears on, she visibly grows more tired.
Kam's speech is very consistent with her and Kanze's brand. Hudson privately judges all of this, and knows without consulting Alvina that she is too. Later they'll laugh about how it's ostentatious. Attention-seeking. Proper rich people are more discreet, relatable. Like them.
These statues are ridiculous. "I'm thinking that the smaller segments of ice are probably going to melt faster ..." Hudson gestures at the crotch region corresponding to the large statue of Kanze, but Alvina, possibly disinterested in this conversation, has stolen away to grab chocolate mousse cups. He waits for her to return and she does. He catches a glint of gold in the corner of his eye and knows it to be Candice. He'd seen her earlier. She looks very glamorous, very actressy, and they'd not spoken to her because there were plenty of other people to talk to.
"My man," Kanze claps Hudson on the corner. "A few of us are going to smoke in a heated tub filled with unicorn blessed water. You in?"
Hudson nearly sprays the mouthful of champagne he's just sipped. "Why .. would I want to do that?"
"Supposed to cure depression," says Kanze, as if the math were obvious.
"I know, but I'm not depressed," says Hudson, "But I might be, if I thought about bathing in unicorn blessed water - like what is that exactly - with a bunch of dudes, though."
"I got that good naga stuff," says Kanze.
"Oh, well .. I think Alvina is tired, Kanze, we're gonna head home. Great party, though, we love the ice statues. Really, super classy event, congratulations, man."
"Alright, man," Kanze claps them both on the shoulders, putting himself between the two of them. Evidently he's had a bit to smoke already. "Alvina, you look beautiful, babe. Huds, I'll catch you," and with that, Kanze is gone.
"Close one," comments Hudson to Alvina.
“I'm sure they paid to have them enchanted so it didn't melt in an ‘suggestive’ way.” Alvina replies, brushing hair out of her face. She's having a hot flash and moves closer to the carved ice. If she wasn't wearing white, she might just hug the statue’s weird ankles. Pregnant women should get to do whatever they want whenever they want to.
Kanze appears and Alvina's face lights up with supportive approval. “Just marvelous,” she winks at Kam who wasn't far behind. Alvina agreed with Hudson. This event was showy but the sort of thing people expected from celebrities. People love the story of it; impossibly lavish parties with ridiculous decor or entertainment. At the end of the day, the Lanson’s just preferred to shake a few hands and settle back in at home with their sizeable property. Not in excess - it had to make a statement about their rank in the world.
Her ankles are swollen and starting to puff up in her heels. She can walk fine but it's becoming a chore to balance her unusually inflated existence. She sighs, nearly trips, but Hudson holds her and helps get her stable. Kanze compliments her appearance, as is polite, then dips off to his unicorn hot tub party. “Babe I'm... Exhausted. I think I'm going to head home.” She can see hesitation on his face so she continues to confirm it. “It's okay, Marge is still with the kids, she'll stay with us until everything is settled down.” Alvina leans over to kiss the side of his face, Candice watching from a conversation a few clusters away.
Candice had several conversations about different performances looking for a leading lady. One of Kanze’s men even asked if she had any dance experience. Like she would swoon to be a back up dancer to this pompous man. She's laughing at a horrible punch line when she spots Hudson escorting her back outside. Duty calls, after all. She spares him one more glance before refilling her glass.
When they reach the carriage, Alvina kicks off her heels and loosens the belt against her ribs. Somehow this magic dress continues to walk the line between modesty and suggestiveness. Milo appears from the other side, ready to receive instructions.
“Baby why don't you stay and hang out with Kanze? In the unicorn... Whatever?” He was having a good time chatting up other powerful types and it's good for the brand if he hangs around. Unfortunately, it's even better if he hangs out with the BOYS. Sexism is real and alive. “I love you,” she says in a tired, sing sing way meant to alleviate any guilt he might have about staying. She pulls one of his hands over her stomach and sighs. “Tell your father goodnight.” There’s no response from the baby because it was likely sleeping. Perfect time for it. “Okay, see you back at the house.” She smiles, letting Milo close get in.
Hudson knows that Alvina doesn't feel great, that she just wants to give birth already and have it be over. He feels a small amount of disappointment, because he is mildly inebriated and still enjoying himself at the party. For all its crass show of wealth it wasn't bad. The people watching in particular was something else, it was fun to rub elbows with famous bards and entertainers in this lavish setting. Even so, it's time to go. He walks her outside the hotel, only to have her offer to let him off the leash for a minute. "Well, I don't have swim trunks," he tells her, gesturing at his tux. Truth be told, he would like to get into that good naga stuff. That feels like a solid plan right about now, but he won't rub it in her face. If only Alvina weren't pregnant, she'd be having a better time too. She holds his hand to her stomach, and he smiles, feeling buoyed by alcohol and also affection for her. "I love you too," he leans forward to kiss her. "Goodnight, baby, thanks for letting me be a Youth." Milo's there, to lead her to where their personal carriage is likely parked. He holds up a hand in a wave and watches her go before making his way back into the party.
Kanze is still in recruitment-mode for the unicorn water hot tub experience, which means that Hudson hasn't missed the boat. There's a private suite elsewhere in the hotel that's reserved for this, and as Hudson had hoped, with a hospitality suite offering free swim clothes. This has to be the most juvenile thing Hudson has done in ages. Hudson finds himself seated and passing the pipe to Rijanna, long-time official celebrity crush of his. She's stunning and refreshing down to earth, both self-deprecating and a terrific oversharer. "So like, what do you do?" she asks him, after they'd attempted to talk about new music she's working on.
It takes Hudson a moment of laughing uncontrollably at the question to answer her, "I'm Kanze's neighbor."
"Yeah, but like what does that mean? Do you have a job?"
"Yeah, I have a job. Is this question a joke?"
"No, it's not a joke! Your mom is a joke!" and with that, Rijanna stands in the hot tub, and everyone pauses their conversations to look at her. "Can we get some chips in the tub?" She's beckoning at the hospitality people. "Hello. Can we get food in here." A bag of chips is tendered to her, and she sits, holding it just above the water. "Thank you," she says, her mouth full almost instantaneously.
"You remind me of my wife," observes Hudson, scooting closer to reach into the bag himself.
"Excuse me!" Rijanna calls over to Kanze, who is master of ceremonies insofar as the pipe is concerned, "Who is this guy I have been talking to?`"
"Ri, that's Hudson Landon."
"I know his name!" exclaims Rijanna, indignant. "I mean what does he DO?"
"He's the MOB," says Kanze, with certain gusto.
"I'm not the mob," says Hudson, to Rijanna. "I'm in real estate."
"Well, one of you is full of it."
"My wife's going to love that you didn't know who I am," offers Hudson. "You're our favorite celebrity, you know, after our neighbors."
Alvina side eyes Hudson’s protest about swimming trunks. She bets Kanze has a thousand pairs he’d let her husband borrow, at worst. A hotel with a hot tub has to have a plan for these kinds of situations. He thanks her for letting him ‘be a youth’ and she laughs. She’ll replay his cute expression a few times while she’s getting ready for bed.
The party turns away from Kanze’s art project when the bard and his wife fashionably disappear. Left with the industry people that had time to loiter, Candice wandered off. She saw Hudson leave with his wife, and knew a more exclusive party to celebrate THIS party was taking place. She stops in a seemingly abandoned hotel hallway to adjust the clingy fabric of her dress when Rijanna walks by, dripping wet with a bag of chips.
The two women reappear in the hot tub suite, arms linked and howling over alcoholic milkshakes. “This woman –“ Candice gestures at Ri without taking in the whole room “- does not give a…” Her bright eyes settle on Hudson Landon and she sputters, melting her surprise into another laugh. They were drunk. Rijanna introduces her new friend Candice as if she need introduction. Kanze’s eager to get another woman undressed and into his hot tub (while respectfully still loving his wife very much, but he’s not a dead man and can look all he wants damn get off his back). A swimsuit is produced and Candice, behind a screen and buzzed, pulls her dress overhead and slips the swimsuit on.
...
Alvina's home and in bed within the hour. Marge handled all the good nights with the children so all Alvina had to do was peek in on their sleepy faces. Children were the most precious when they slept. Marge heads out and Alvina runs a safely warm bath (she knows you can't take ultra hot baths this far along) and lounges there until she falls asleep.
...
“Candice Snow,” she coughs, handing the ‘good naga stuff’ back to the host with her introduction. Then, finally, she looks at Hudson and smiles. “I see you know this scoundrel.” She wrinkles her nose and slips into the hot tub by Rijanna. They are giggling about the mechanics of milk shakes in hot tubs and snuggling up suggestively close. The two women look like they’re already –very- good friends.
“What does that dude DO?” Rijanna asks Candice, who seems to know him.
Candice laughs as if that’s the most hilarious thing anyone’s ever said. “He’s the mayor of Cenril.”
Hudson watches Rijanna stand and leave, and he's not the only one either. He's feeling good and there's no harm in looking, it's not as if anything's going to happen. "She's cooler than I imagined," he tells Kanze, who agrees and launches into an unrelated story of how he's recently become very religious and would like to start a church.
It's a relief when Rijanna returns, although Hudson does a double take when he sees who's with her: Candice Snow, who apparently is changing into a swimsuit behind a screen. "Do you two know each other?" he asks Rijanna.
"Why, do you two know each other?" she responds, and noisily drinks from her milkshake as she slides into the hot tub beside him.
No time for him to get witty, Candice surfaces a beat after that, introducing herself. Conversation dies out as the two women cuddle up to 'discuss milkshakes.' Hudson stares, unblinking, and knows he's pretty far gone. He's surprised when the conversation comes back to him. He laughs a rattling laugh.
"You're a troublemaker," he says to Candice. He addresses Rijanna next, "This woman? She's a troublemaker."
"How is she a troublemaker?" Rijanna wants to know.
"Oh, she knows how she's a troublemaker," says Hudson.
"There's a story there," murmurs Rijanna, into her metal straw.
"Sorry I had to fire you," Hudson says, apologetically, to Candice.
"You fired Candice?!" demands Rijanna.
"I did," says Hudson, "for the sake of marital peace." He gets up, water sloughing off of his person. "I'm going to get another drink. Do any of you guys want one?"
Alvina is fast asleep as Candice Snow laughs at Hudson’s calling her a troublemaker. “I didn’t do anything!” She objects, turning her pleading eyes to Rijanna to defend her. “If anyone’s a troublemaker it’s you!” Candice points at Hudson and laughs. “Rijanna, tell him.” The actress pouts, burying her face on Rijanna’s shoulder, pretending to cry.
Rijanna ignores this. “Get me one.” The bard looks at Candice, then back to Hudson. “Two.” Candice might like one too.
Kanze changes the topic of conversation back to his church founding idea but Rijanna gets bored quickly and changes the topic to a juvenile game of Kiss, Marry, Kill sampling various celebrities to make it interesting.
“Kanze,” Candice slurs, setting her milkshake glass aside to give the bard her full attention. “Okay, so obviously your wife is excluded for the sake of fun.” Sorry Kam. “Let’s do...Uma, Saylor, and Rijanna.”
Kanze doesn’t hesitate to answer. It’s just a game and his wife isn’t here yet. Plus she’d love that he said they were having a bunch of kids and she’d forgive him. Hopefully.
“Uma for the kiss,” he throws out shamelessly, “then I’d marry Rijanna and get rid of Saylor.”
Candice looks scandalized. “What?! Of all people?! Saylor Twift?!” Is he serious?
The game rotates around to Hudson on his turn and Kanze sets him up with a fun one. “My man,” He claps Hudson’s shoulder. He’d walked back in on a grand affair. “Kiss, Marry, Kill… between My Wife, Rijanna, and Candice.” Rijanna and Candice both snap their necks to look at Hudson for his reply. This loading question is sure to cause no hurt feelings.
In his current state, Hudson can't deal with the complexity of drink orders, and so he returns bearing multiples of the same drink, a carbonated type of malt liquor in a can. It tastes like fizzy candy and doesn't seem likely to make him that much more drunk. In any event, it's very refreshing inside the hot tub. He'll happily sip this and listen to the tail end of Kanze and the women debate Uma, Saylor Twift, and Rijanna.
Hudson finds himself laughing into his drink as Kanze tosses Saylor, much to Candice's shock and awe. "Drama," he pronounces. "Uma's really great, actually. Extremely competent and intelligent woman. Also very caring. Definitely has mom energy. I don't know, in my 'old age' I find that attractive." He grins shamelessly and shrugs: evidently now that he's mildly inebriated, he'll gladly objectify his puppet mayor. "I mean she's a family friend, I'm not crushing on her, but Kanze clearly sees what I see. With the mom energy. I can see why he chose how he did."
"Mom energy!" Kanze cries out, in a toast.
The game pivots to Hudson, since he's just rejoined the conversation. "Oh, man," his brow furrows as he takes in those options. "Am I answering realistically or like we're in a fantasy land?" He grimaces cartoonishly. "Oooooh boy," he says apologetically, "I'm sorry, I'm killing your wife," he informs Kanze. "You know I think she's amazing, but her family, man, all that attention in the press. Realistically, would not work for me."
"With your real estate business," Rijanna teases him.
Kanze is shaking a finger at him. He doesn't seem too offended, merely feigning moral outrage.
"What do you want me to say? I got three good options, I'm trying to answer the question!" exclaims Hudson. "Kam's not exactly discreet. And also, I don't wanna creep on my neighbor's wife. I don't know when that could come back to haunt me."
Kanze barks a laugh.
"I mean realistically," Hudson continues, squinting at Rijanna and Candice as he considers them, "Realistically probably marry Candice. I think she's the closest analogue to my wife."
Now it is Rijanna's turn to throw her head back, outright cackling. "This guy answers by comparing us to his wife. I can't even be too mad." She pulls herself up onto the ledge of the magically heated tub. "I'm going, peace," she announces, and then hops out, taking her things with her to change in a spare room across the hall.
Candice’s exaggerated laugh melts in with the rest of the group. She winces when Hudson says he’d kill Kam. Kanze takes it well though. Hudson’s admission that he’d pick Candice is soured by the addendum that it’s because she’s most like his wife. The actress isn’t like Alvina Landon! She’s a whole different breed of woman. She keeps playing with Rijanna’s hair, pondering a proper response,until the other woman throws her head back to laugh. The mindless repetition of touching Ri’s braid dies. The bard, without warning, peaces out of the tub. Candice stands up in the water, leaning over the edge to wave an exaggerated goodbye. Once it’s just the three of them and Candice settles back down in the water, Kanze appraises her again.
“Your turn.” He pops his chin in her direction.
“Who are my candidates?!” Candice laughs, offended she isn’t provided options while she takes Rijanna’s drink off the tray Hudson brought.
“Obviously me, my boy Hudson aaaand,” Kanze gestures at the aforementioned ‘boy’ and grapples for a third. “Jason DeFrom.” Candice snorts a laugh into her beverage and the door opens again. This time it’s Kam and she looks annoyed.
“Babe,” She gives Hudson and Candice a stare each to acknowledge them. “Saylor’s lawyer’s are here…” She winces. This news is unexpected. Kanze explodes out of the hot tub, the game forgotten.
“She should be HONORED.” He grunts, doing minimal towel work and scrambling out of the room to change. Kam hovers a minute, not sure what to say to Candice.
“Can you believe it? I think he did a fantastic job capturing her likeness in his art display. He is right - she should be honored. I guess she's just jealous my butt looked better.” She waits a beat, shrugs and then heads back out the door. "I can't help that I am blessed!" She shouts across the hall at Kanze, who will eventually surface dried off and dressed. “Oh, hey, Huds, tell ‘Vina we’re ready to be godparents.” Kam gives him a wink and then she’s gone, leaving both Hudson and Candice alone in the magically heated tub.
“I’m gonna have to kill Kanze, no offense.” She raises her glass towards the now closed door. “He’s a bit like Kam. A lot of drama for very little pay out. This, for example.” She laughs, finishing her drink and then hauling herself out to hit the bar again. She’s feeling good. Very good. She has Hudson all to herself for a brief period of time and she doesn’t want to waste it. There’s no discussion about what drinks she’ll bring back, only that she is grabbing more of those sugar blasted types that make your mouth dry. She hands one to Hudson when she returns, deciding to sit on the edge within his reach, letting her bare legs dangle in the water. “Jason is cute, definitely has the dad vibes. Looks like he could fix a roof or something.” She pretends to mull it over, chewing on her straw. “But he’s also losing hair in the front.” Her fingers flip her own hair back vainly. “So I guess that leaves you as my husband.”
Hudson turns at the sound of Kam's voice, not believing what he hears. He doesn't know Saylor that well despite him and Alvina owning a 'vacation' property near her, and doesn't have a view on why her lawyers would be here. He feels defensive for his friend and true neighbors, Kanye and Kam. This all becomes illuminated very quickly: Saylor is upset about the ice carving of her? Say it ain't so. It's art! Is this a big deal? His head swims, slow to process how this could even happen. "People need to take it easy, good luck out there," he says, as there's a scramble for Kanze to head out with his wife. "You got it boss," he clicks his tongue affirmatively in response to Kam's joke about being made godparents. Alvina surely will pump the brakes on it, provided he even remembers it tomorrow, but in the moment it seems like a grand suggestion.
Candice has pivoted back to the game, and Hudson can't help but laugh. Kanze is the obvious kill choice, and she's waited for him to leave the room to say so. "He's a good guy, but he's all over the place," Hudson concedes, watching her get out and go to the bar. That's his cue to finish his drink, so he does. Candice is good company, and impressively gracious considering he fired her. Turns out: everything's fine, everyone can stay in their lane.
Candice returns with a fresh drink for both of them, and he has to turn slightly in the water to talk with her since she won't get back in. She declares in her deadpan way that in this particular hypothetical she'd marry him, and he barks a laugh, emboldened to comment, "Such enthusiasm. In case I had any delusions the other day was anything other than transactional. You're a real gangster, Candice, I hope you would have pretended to be more into me than that. Was I even your first stop?"
Candice bears an offended look when he asks if he was her ‘first stop’. “You’re a handsome man, it wouldn’t take much persuasion for me. What do you want me to say?” She shrugs, as if that’s a socially acceptable comment, and takes another sip of her drink. She’s clearly amused by being called a ‘gangster’. She brushes her hair away from her face again, letting her fingers linger on her cheek while she thinks.
“Yeah Kanze’s nice but I don’t think I could hold down his whole…” Circular gesture towards the closed door, “...energy.” Naked ice sculptures of famous people wasn’t her idea of ‘art’, though she’d appreciated being on the ballot originally (or so Kam had told her at the party). Only, now that it’s just Hudson and Candice, she feels a certainness that she can cozy up to him within reason. Continue to water the seed of curiosity in him. How did her lips taste? How would she feel covered in a thin gossamer blanket of sweat beside him? Candice pinches the corner of her lower lip between her teeth and considers Hudson anew. It’s all in good fun. They can stay in their lanes. If she wandered a bit, he can always pull away. Her painted nails tap against her glass thoughtfully. “Where’s your wife?” Did Alvina really leave or would his pregnant wife barge in here any second and demand to leave?
Hudson snorts faintly as Candice tries to praise his appearance. "'Persuasion,'" he mutters. He'll take the flattery, won't question it in the moment, where it feels nice, but he notes the strangeness in her reply, including that she didn't answer the question. She seems to vacillate into herself, not really all that committed to talking about how Kanze can be too much, before asking about Alvina. He cants his head to look up at Candice. "She's pregnant and her feet hurt and she didn't feel like dealing with drunk people," he says by way of explanation. "She went home." He drinks from the beverage she'd brought him, relishing in the cool freshness of it against the heat from the water. "Probably should head out soon in a minute myself," he adds. He considers her question, and her, anew. She'd asked that for his reaction. He'll give it to her. He sighs dramatically, climbing out and roaming about the room. "Oh, I see you, Candice. Still trying to cause trouble," his tone is thick with amusement. He finds a towel and drapes it around himself. "Don't tell me there weren't any wealthy and powerful men out there at the party who could give you what you wanted?"
Candice smiles graciously, setting her half finished drink down on the edge of the tub and devoting her full attention to what Hudson’s saying. “I don’t envy her for that.” Being pregnant. Once was enough for Candice. Aubree was a shining part of her life but she doesn’t know if she’d get pregnant with Sterling’s child if she could do it all over again. He gets out and wrangles a towel to roughly dispel the fancy Unicorn water as if it was common well water. Knowing Kanze, though, there’s no proof this isn’t normal water. No sense in blowing it out of proportion. Candice turns and slides gracefully down to the floor, choosing this exact moment to grab a towel herself and linger near Hudson while he accused her of causing trouble. “I know my place.” She laughs, feigning despair while dabbing water off her shoulders. It’s bad for the skin to just drag the towel across it like a heathen. She’s dabbing at her neck when he asks about the other men at the party and she stops, turning to approach him with narrowed, sultry eyes. “Funny thing,” she adds a mirthless laugh, “What I want is you.” Candice is shorter than Hudson, not comically, but in a way that makes her seem small and fragile by comparison. So when she leans in to kiss him, it’s with the expectation that he’ll let her. That he’ll grab her by her shoulders to break it after the fact and tell her all manners of things men say when they feel guilty. But he’d like it. He wanted her to do it. That’s why he kept bringing up other men. He was testing her. Wanted to know she still wanted him. She’ll play the game, she knows the rules well. “You’re the only one who can give me what I want.”
Hudson snorts at Candice saying she knows her place. He's not decided on that yet. Now that they're alone and she's making remarks, he is revisiting his earlier assessment that things are tidily squared away with them. She's still thirsty, but now he's drunk and enjoying the attention. He is too slow to react to her closing in for a kiss, it happens in slow motion, but he does indeed take her by the shoulders to ease her back. It all has the effect of ruining the safely flirty atmosphere for him. "Candice," he says her name with disapproval, releasing her to wipe his mouth to remove any traces of her lipstick left after that very short lived kiss. He checks his hand afterwards, frowning at the little smear of color there. "You know," he tells her, "I think everyone's had a bit much, I should probably get going." That's his nice way of shutting this down. She's clearly not used to being turned down, and who can blame her, look at her. He doesn't want this to be contentious. He just wants to be home with Alvina, he's out of his mind and it feels like so much work to get there, and out of this awkward situation, he should have left earlier. He's lucky that the staff had already left, and nobody was here to see that. He wipes his mouth again and, seeing more lipstick, remarks, "And .. before I go I clearly need a mirror." He roams out of the suite area and into the connected bedroom, finding a mirror in the adjacent bath. He wets a wash cloth and wipes Candice's somewhat tenacious lipstick off and then gulps down several generous mouthfuls of his drink. His reflection looks damp and wild eyed back at him. He needs to get dressed and leave, but he doesn't remember where he put his clothes. They're probably in the other room, with her. "Candice," he calls out, leaving the glass on the counter as he heads back through the bedroom. He nearly stumbles over the bed. "Oh, I might be drunk," he realizes outloud, sitting for a moment as the room spins around him. He just needs a second to get his bearings. "Candice," he calls out for her again, "my clothes in there? Can you bring them?"
Candice watches Hudson with a falsified frown, her lipstick smeared just so on his lips. She watches him try to wipe it away hurriedly, remove the kiss from existence so he didn’t have to confess it to his wife. Their lips barely touched, he stopped it before it happened, Candice came on to him, he is the innocent one in this scenario. In his mind, that is. Candice sees it differently. They’ve been doing this song and dance for a while and he both likes and dislikes when she takes the lead. She wagers his wife is passive and Hudson would appreciate a woman that takes initiative. His words ring hollow in her ears. They are the proper lines one says in these situations. They are merely playing their parts now. And she, Candice Snow, was an excellent actress.
Hudson shuffles off to the bathroom and she lingers near in the hallway, listening for the moment he’ll change his tune. He’ll make a big show of wanting to leave but kneel at her feet when she insists otherwise. She counts off the seconds, silently, on her fingers while she waits in the silence before he calls her name. With a smug grin, she kicks off the wall she’d been leaning into and hears him stumble out into the bed. He’s saying he’s drunk; another element of deniability for what they both wanted. He calls her name a second time and she scoops up his clothes and saunters into the room in slow motion. “Here you go, honey.” Her tone as light and sweet. Candice isn’t the least bit alarmed. It all just makes her that much more confident she’ll get what she wants in the end. “Here, let me help you onto the bed.” And she tries, taking his arms and sitting them both on the edge. His clothes lie behind them, in a crumpled pile. She sits next to him calmly, reaching out to rest her hands over one of his. “It’s okay.” She whispers, grazing her lips against his ear. “We’ll say this never happened.”
Hudson is thinking he will just rest here for a second. He's not sure how he got so drunk so quickly, but it'll pass. If he focuses on one stationary object in the room, he will regain his bearings. This is so stupid, to be this drunk, at his stage in life. Candice appears and helps him lie down and he is grateful for it. His awareness of her movements is fuzzy, and he belatedly realizes that she is touching him, nuzzling his ear, or something. Though he can't find the energy to swat her away, he does manage to grunt with disapproval. "Candice," he slurs her name, before murmuring, "no cuddling." But it feels nice and it's fine, everything is fine. If he just shut his eyes for a second, the world would simply stop.
The next morning finds Candice and Hudson still in the same hotel room. The memories of the night before are a blur. Who’s to say what happened? If Hudson asked Candice, she’d say ‘nothing’ in her gracious and sweet birdsong way. There’s no denying the facts though. Hudson and Candice both occupied the same hotel room overnight. They were both in states of undress (as in undressed, there’s no mitigating that). And they were both here, lying in a hotel bed, stuffed under the sheets in a messy tangle of limbs. Or Candice’s limbs are tangled all over him. She wakes up first, hair feathered from sleep, and leans up on her elbow to brush stray hairs away from Hudson’s forehead. She clutches the sheets against her while she does so with a modicum of modesty. The rest of the room, still up for review, is trashed. All the decor on every possible surface have been pushed off into the floor like a herd of cats went wild. Two vases are broken. All the champagne glasses are shattered. The unicorn tub is still there, luke warm and suspiciously cloudier than the night before. Candice congratulated herself, once again, for this predictable turn of events while she waits for Hudson to rejoin her in the land of the living. He was going to have one hell of a hangover.
Hudson dreams about Valrae. He dreams that he lets himself into her house in Larket, the house which had always been a foreign place to him, because they had never existed in that house, only her and Irenic. Her cat weaves in a figure eight around his legs before leading him into another room, where Valrae is seated on the floor and painting in watercolors, her long blond hair framing the parchment beneath her. She looks up when he approaches, and out of the shadow of her hair it's her face, that is, her old face, the face from before she died and was given a new body. She smiles and is radiant for it. "Huds."
He doesn't step any closer. "Val, I think I might be messing up," he tells her. And like that, her smile extinguishes itself.
"No, oh, Hudson, no." Her smooth brow creases with concern, and she pushes herself to a stand, padding over to him in her bare feet. She takes the watercolor painting with her. "You see, look?" She shows him the parchment, but the dream won't let him see it. The colors run onto the floor.
"I can't see it, it's making a mess," he says. A brackish water is pooling at their feet.
"No, no, look," Valrae is gesturing at the painting, but Hudson sees nothing.
"I can't see it, Val, stop making me look at it," he snaps at her, his expression crumpling with the sharpness in tone. "And put it down, it's making a mess," he sounds exasperated. Valrae's gaze drops to the colors dripping onto the floor, but she doesn't act to lay the paper flat. An impatience rises within him. "Can't you stop it?" he demands.
"No, oh Hudson," breathes Valrae, her voice pregnant with empathy, her arms reaching - both of them, the parchment now nowhere in sight - to pull him closer, into the circle of her arms. She is warm and smells of lavender.
The hug cracks something inside of him, and he murmurs, at length, "Val, I think everything's about to go to hell, and I'm afraid." And so he voices a thing that has long lurked dormant in his mind. The thing that he can't tell Alvina, his mum, the women and men who work for him, his children - all the people who rely on him to be Hudson Landon, their fearless leader in control of the proverbial ship, day in and day out.
Valrae stays wrapped around him for a moment before she responds simply, "It's okay." He lifts his cheek from where it rests against her hair, pulling back to look at her. She smiles, but her face is Candice's face, and her voice is Candice's voice: "We’ll say this never happened."
... She's touching his face, and Hudson groans in protest, turning onto his side away from her. He feels like he got hit by a carriage. They could sleep a little more. It's the weekend. This reflexive reaction to being rudely awakened by a woman whom he assumes to be his wife doesn't last long. A baseline awareness of his foreign surroundings catches up with him some seconds later, and he jerks upright, gazing at Candice, who is wrapped in only a sheet and seemingly unbothered by the alarmed expression that's seized his features.
Of course he asks what happened, the words coming out in a sleep-logged jumble. He asks her even though his appraisal of the room and their present circumstances is answer enough. Her playful response of 'nothing' does nothing for him except stoke a sudden contempt, and he gets out of bed. Everything's on the floor, his clothes, the towel, broken ceramic and glass from some vases that had been on the tables. Ignoring Candice on the bed, he carefully steps around the messes and begins to pick his things up, attempting to dress. His mind unsolicited begins to recreate the details. He must have dozed, and then woken to find Candice there, and ... His skin feels overly warm. Where had he found the energy ... He should never have stayed alone with her. His mind begins to replay the conversations that he remembers. That stupid game. He'd thought he had his flirting under control, he wishes he could recall the moment where his resolve had bent, and finally broken.
It's late morning, which means Alvina is already up, his children are already up ... That realization feels like a sledgehammer to the chest. He sits down on the mattress in his boxers. He looks at Candice, her slender figure still wrapped in a sheet, glamorous even with her eye makeup raccooned. "Seriously, I don't remember," he tells her, matter of fact. "And I'm not saying," he gestures at the broken things on the floor, "Uh, clearly I was taking an active role at the time of." He clears his throat. "I just want to know, how .. what .."
Candice watches Hudson knowingly. “We’re both adults here.” She offers him the line without mockery as she turns, throwing her legs off the bed in the opposite direction and stretching. Then she simply gets up and saunters, unhurriedly into the bathroom to fix her hair and smooth out her messy makeup. She hears his question from the bedroom and paused, balled up washcloth in hand.
Her purse was still on the counter from the night before. She pulls her bag open and starts reapplying her lipstick. “I don’t know what to tell you honey.” There’s empathy there, she feels bad he’s hurting. She also takes a blow to the ego. How could he be so remorseful? If he was going to ruin his marriage it might as well be with a beautiful woman like her. Candice finishes her lipstick and reappears, leaning her shoulder into the door frame. She’d tugged a towel loose from the rack and wrapped herself up in it. She frowns at him. “I don’t remember much either, or I’d fill in the blanks for you.” She looks up from his place on the bed and surveys the scene with a grimace. Kanze is not going to love that the room was trashed if he ever found out. “We all had a little too much to drink.” Her frowns stays put while she moves around the glass shards and the water puddle left behind by overturned flowerpots. Her dress is nearby and it’s easy enough to snag it and pull it overhead in one smooth motion. In the same motion, she tugs the towel away. Surprisingly dexterous for a hungover woman. She searches the mess for her shoes but can’t see them. “Are my shoes over there?” She calls over her shoulder with an easy tone. She isn’t panicked or scrambling. “Oh, this is yours.” Candice tosses his tux jacket on the bed beside him.
Hudson watches Candice leave and attempts to resume collecting his things and dressing. He's found his socks and pants. A dread is pooling inside of him at the thought of having to go home and face Alvina. Does he lie to her, or does he tell her the truth? He reaches inside of himself for the wolf, but all he encounters is a bristling deathly silence.
He messed up.
Candice at least has dropped the flirty routine in the face of what is obviously remorse on his part. He snorts faintly, lacing his shoes, as she mentions not remembering much herself. Of course she doesn't. Or maybe she does, she just doesn't want to tell him now. "Just great," he comments quietly, facetiously. He sits on the bed again to button his shirt, his gaze dully tracking her movements as she very easily maneuvers into her own clothing from the night before. Not weighed down by guilt, evidently. She asks about her shoes, and he answers in the affirmative, producing them from a bench at the foot of the bed. "Thanks," he collects his tux jacket in return and pulls it on.
He doesn't know where his bowtie or cufflinks are and doesn't have the energy to look for them. The cufflinks for sure are blending into the patterned carpet somewhere. He gets off the bed, coming around to where Candice is. He gives the broken things in the room a once over and then heaves a long sigh, turning to look at her like it pains him. "Please keep this between us," he tells her. He sounds tired. He is tired. He doesn't want to go home. "We had too much to drink. I'm sorry." He's not ready to go home. He appreciates the empathy in Candice's expression, and isn't oblivious to the fact that it may be wounding her pride somewhat that he's not thrilled they slept together. "Sorry," he repeats. "I like you just fine, Candice, I mean obviously .. I just really didn't want to do that to Alvina. So. No offense. Please don't say anything."
The more Hudson shows remorse the more it irks her, though it isn’t something he can read in her expression. She wants to snip at him in a way that’ll repair her injured pride. They clearly had a TIME and he’s flustered about his wife. Do you know how many people would *fall over dead* if they had the chance to enjoy an intimate night of breaking furniture and getting trashed. Still, she tries to maintain a sliver of dignity in the face of his apologies and ‘good husband’ schtick. “*I’m* sorry,” is what she says instead. “It’s no excuse but I’m dealing with my own mess of things. I didn’t meant to drag you down with me. The flirting was safe and appealing but it should have stopped there.” The actress sits on the edge of the bed to strap her shoes back on. It’s an intricate wrap and zipper number that she navigates flawlessly but any onlooker might assume it’s a magic trick. While bent over, she finds his bowtie and tosses it towards him without looking. She’s also found her earrings, which she’s putting back in when he begs her not to say anything. “It’s not a great look for me either.” She remarks, a bit perturbed that he’s only thinking about himself. Hudson must expect the ‘famous’ Candice Snow to lure men away from their wives. It was her MO after all. Right? “I want to stay out of the public eye, it wouldn’t do me any favors to rat us out.” Candice stands, combing her fingers through her hair to make sure she looks presentable. She navigates the hotel wreckage and docks near the door. “I’ll go ahead so we aren’t seen together.”
Hudson grunts knowingly as Candice apologizes and engages in her own Monday morning quarterbacking. He wordlessly accepts his bowtie when she brandishes it, making this remark about how it's 'not a great look for her' to have slept with him. He remembers something she'd said the night before, about how it was him she wanted. Perhaps she's salty now. Or perhaps she meant the remark in relation to the press learning of the tryst in general. He's too tired and filled with dread to figure it out. And he doesn't care. "Thanks," is all he says to Candice's assent to keep things quiet. She offers to go first, and he gestures that she go right ahead. "I'll wait half an hour. See you," he says. He loiters uncomfortably in the same place until she's left the room.
Then he realizes dressing had been pointless, because he really should shower. He kills time that way, standing unmoving under the water and letting it run off of him for a long time. He feels numb, like his reality belongs to someone else.
He doesn't want to go home. He normally handles gymnastics with Harper on Saturday mornings, and no doubt Alvina's anxiety over him being absent has either peaked as a result of the deviation from the routine or, more likely, calcified into rage. She'd have cross-examined Milo, gotten the papers, scanned them for mentions of violence out of worry that he was hurt or killed. Then, likely seeing nothing, she'd have drawn a different conclusion, the accurate one. She'd have found a way to park the kids with his mother, or a backup sitter, and would be lying in wait for him when he got home.
Part III
Landon Estate
Alvina isn’t home when Hudson gets there. It’s Milo trotting down the driveway, instead of an enraged wife, to assess Hudson’s condition. “Boss?” He says by way of question, relief and confirmation. Marge stands on the porch, looking out at the driveway with a pinched expression. Their carriage is up and waiting for him. Though Hudson looks tired and pale, Milo takes his arm and turns him around towards the carriage. “Your wife. We gotta get going.” Milo informs his employer in a low, apologetic tone.
The carriage ride is both short and excruciatingly long. Milo arranges to drop off the carriage with another one of their men outside so he can lead Hudson the rest of the way. Whatever happened last night, the head of the Landon Empire looked worse for wear than Milo’d ever seen him. Day light filters through autumnal trees growing in spotty cracks of cobblestone right before they enter the clinic. Healers and nurses buzz around under the sickly smell of bleach. Without context, Hudson looks to be on the verge of a breakdown. “She’s fine.” He promises when Hudson starts asking about Alvina. “She went into labor last night.” Milo didn’t need to clarify that they’d been looking for him ever since. So there was no ‘Alvina tearing through newspaper articles’. It was more ‘Alvina in labor wondering where the hell her husband ran off to during said labor.’ Milo takes a quick detour by the vending ice boxes and hands Hudson a cool glass bottle of water to drink without making eye contact.
Alvina’s three rooms down towards the end of the last hallway. It’s quiet here, the finest in Hospital Accommodations. Charlotte, Milo’s mate, is the only person waiting with Alvina when the men appear. She looks caught between relief and outrage that it’d taken him so long to get here. Milo shrugs silently, what did she want? He couldn’t find him! Isn’t it Milo’s -job- to find him? No, in fact, it is not Milo’s job to find the Hudson in the haystack. That aside, Alvina’s asleep, face made paler by the glow of hospital light. An empty roller crib sits next to her, a fluffed blanket providing a buffer between the glass and presumably the child that should be there. Milo and Charlotte move away and out of the room, keeping their eyes on the back of Hudson’s head all the while.
Cenril Hospital
Hudson had spent the whole way over there mentally drafting, in the fog of his very hungover mind, what he intended to tell Alvina. Except when he arrives, it would appear she's absent. Presumably for labor-related reasons. Well, that's not a great look.
He and Milo don't really talk in the carriage ride over, apart from exchanging a few words in which Milo confirms exactly what Hudson figured. Alvina's been having a baby. Hudson spends the rest of the ride looking out the window and appearing extremely hungover. At the hospital, they lurk by the watering area, his tuxedo attracting a small bit of attention. Knowing it to be tacit advice that he should attempt to look less shattered, Hudson accepts a bottle of water from Milo and drinks it.
Alvina's asleep when they go see her, which is a relief to Hudson. He ignores the static between Milo and mate as he sits in the empty chair. There's no baby in the crib, but that doesn't mean there's no baby. Charlotte would have been upset, not merely annoyed, if there'd have been no baby.
She doesn't look very angry at him in that bed. Maybe she'd never had time to grow angry at him and wonder. He begins to pivot on what he'd intended to do, which was to be honest with her and ask for her forgiveness. Maybe the better approach now is to just bury it forever and never ever do it again. Or at least bury it until all of this is passed. Maybe unburdening himself is actually the selfish thing to do.
He waits for a nurse, to ask about the baby, but he's so tired he ends up falling asleep in the hospital chair.
The nurse comes in once, while both the Landon’s are sleeping, to check on Alvina. The second time, the nurse has to wake Alvina up to ask her how she’s feeling and give her fluids and medicine. She’s well received and Alvina can’t figure out why they’re whispering until she catches sight of Hudson asleep. In the same clothes he’d worn the night before. Alvina whispers an inquiry to the nurse. ‘How long has he been here?’ The nurse shrugged, ‘He was here during the last check, so two hours?’. It was her best guess. Once the women conclude their hushed conversation, the nurse approaches Hudson and gives him a gentle shake. “Momma’s awake.” She offers him an empathetic smile. He had the look of an anxious, exhausted new father if she’d ever seen one.
While the nurse addresses Hudson, Alvina’s trying to catch sight of him but can’t move around much. Her body is, predictably, trashed but the third times the charm and she knows what her limits are as she tests them. Can she twist that way? Nope. Can she lean this way? Only a little. The nurse doesn’t linger for Hudson’s questions but she promises to send the doctor in briefly as she leaves. And then she does. She leaves Alvina and Hudson alone.
Alvina, per the rules of pregnancy and giving birth, is flooded with a wide variety of emotions. Powerful things, pushed to the edge of all extremes at once. She’s filled with boundless love seeing he’s okay, with unquenchable rage that he was missing, with bitter anguish that she’d cried out for him so many times only to be greeted by empty air and Charlotte's apologies. She doesn’t know what to say or try to express first. All the feelings jumble on her tongue, threatening to choke her. In response to the confusing swell of untangled emotions, she starts to cry. She hides her face behind her hands and exhales his name with a single question.
“Where were you?”
Hudson is sleeping slumped to one side with his mouth open, his neck crunched inward to put the weight of his head on his shoulder. It has the effect of looking goofy and rendering him rather stiff when he starts to stir, the conversation in the room starting to rouse him, and Alvina herself finishing the job when she starts to cry. It takes him a second to process what's happening, but when he does, he sits upright in the chair.
"Hey, you're awake," he says, as if he was always awake himself. "Oh, babe," seeing her tears makes him wonder if she can smell his guilt, even though that's not a real thing. He exhales a curse roughly in response to her question. "I'm sorry, I passed out like an idiot twenty year old," he says immediately, knee jerk reacting. "I'm here now. Inexcusable, I know, sweetheart I'm sorry, I suck, I never wanted to miss this." He scoots his chair closer and reaches for her hand to try and kiss her knuckles. "I never want to drink again. You OK?"
At the very least, he can't tell her the truth here. And like that, he locks himself into a lie. It had been easy. This is the thing about their relationship: he does horrible things in connection with his job all the time, and he omits mention of, or lies about, them to her. Except the arrangement is usually that he's supposed to do that, because for her to know the horrible things would put her in harm's way. He's not supposed to lie to her about them, but right now that's what instinct tells him he must do, and it comes naturally.
Alvina doesn’t want to be soothed so easily. She hates that he can apologize for being gone and causing her so much pain and frustration. She hates that she could be soothed by his words if she wants to be. Stubbornly, she holds out and doesn’t melt into his sheer existence but she does let him touch and kiss her hand. She lets him lie without knowing he is, truly, because she doesn’t want to be alone in this hospital room anymore. He was a werewolf for Sven’s sake. She knew better than anyone that their metabolisms process alcohol differently, more efficiently. There’s no way he drank too much to keep up with Kanze and his celebrity friends. His excuse and apologies don’t mean anything (they mean a little, she wants the apologies to make it better). She believes them, for now, anyway. She’ll lie to both of them.
“I was so scared!” She grunts at him, eyes wet and powerless under her hands. She was so -mad- at him for making her feel this way. Dealing with him coming home at two in the morning, reeking of alcohol and covered in confetti would have been okay because that was her expectation.Their silent agreement that he would stay out and be a children but still come home when it was done. The nurse comes back in, bringing Alvina more water and a fresh pack of tissues. His wife’s face is red and raw. Of course she’d be crying during labor, it’s intense and she no doubt had another C section. It’s easier this time, with the werewolf healing but it’s psychologically exhausting. More so with Hudson missing. The Nurse has a name tag that reads ‘Margaret”, smiles between the two of them before looking up at the disheveled Hudson and asking if he wants to see the baby. No doubt he has questions on gender and overall health that they can answer down in the nursery ward.
She was scared. The words wring Hudson's heart. He kisses her knuckles again, that being the safe move because for a second there it all seems too obviously fake. "I know, I'm sorry, baby," he squeezes her hand. He is saved from having to say more. A nurse comes in, bustling with purpose, and after a brisk appraisal invites him to see the baby. He nods. He'll take the break, and even though he has spent the last stretch of Alvina's pregnancy having trepidation about the baby having werewolf features, he feels in himself a yearning to meet and love this new child. His expression softens again, the anticipation overtaking the guilt that had worn him down all morning. "I'm sorry," he repeats, to Alvina, giving her hand another squeeze. "I love you. I'll be right back, I'm gonna go see the baby." And with that, he takes his leave of her, following Margaret into the hall.
Billy Joel, And So It Goes *