TITLE: Cold Air Hellos and Goodbyes

AUTHOR: Marita Linde

TYPE: Drama/Romance, with some definite angst and a new category I like to call "Making Marita feel better".

RATING: PG

SUMMARY: A follow-up to the movie. Karen and Harry are trying to mend their relationship after what happened at Christmas-time. Things go slowly, but some things are "cleared up", and problems are fixed, and all that stuff. Eventually.

NOTES: Um, yeah. This fic was mostly just written to make me feel better because I felt sad for my Emmie and wanted to set my poor heart at rest. I want to believe it ended this way. Hee. I have no idea how much time elapsed between the scene at the Christmas pageant and when Harry gets back from the airport (I'm sure it says it in the movie, but I'm too lazy to look) so I made up four weeks. Oh, and I'm aware that Harry's characterization is way off, but even in the movie there's like... nothing to go on, so.

THANKS: Brian, who talked to me about sheep, emus and samurai as I wrote this fic.

Karen hadn't looked her husband in the eye in three weeks. He'd come out of this disaster a man on a mission, hoping to mend what he'd selfishly broken between them. He'd even taken the time off work. But there was so much anger and disappointment inside her that she found herself not co-operating with his efforts. He'd planned dinners, she'd escaped them. He'd tried to hold her at night in bed, she'd shoved him off. He'd tried to be romantic, she'd laughed it off. Finally one afternoon he came home from work and announced he was going on a one-week business trip to the US to look at new possibilities for ad campaigns, and she'd let out a long-held breath of relief. Finally, some time to think.

Sometimes she hated the way she was. When something was wrong with her she was usually the only person who knew it, and it took extreme effort for her to be able to talk about anything even remotely uncomfortable. The entire three weeks after Christmas, all she'd wanted to do was sit Harry down and scream at him until her lungs gave out. But there was no chance. He was always planning things, smiling at her, kissing her on the cheek. She didn't have the strength to go out anywhere with him and she wouldn't raise her voice in front of the children. So she was trapped. And she was going insane.

He'd left that day. She, Bernard, and Daisy had driven him and he'd said goodbye, the strained regret showing in his face, poking out through the lines in his skin. She'd been so happy to see him go, and now, alone in the silent house, she could finally cry. Heaving sobs shook her shoulders and she collapsed in the nearest chair. Gosh, it felt so good to finally cry, really weep. Her life was all about pretending when he was around, not wanting to see the guilt in his eyes when she betrayed the slightest hint of sadness. Now that he was gone she could finally let it out, finally begin to heal.

One week later

"Hello, darling, how are you?" Harry greeted Karen at Heathrow airport, and she let him kiss her on the cheek.

"Fine, I'm fine," she said, still not looking at him straight. He looked happy, more hopeful, but the guilt was still there.

They exited out of the airport and he put his hand on her back. She stiffened instantly, without thinking she wouldn't let his warmth seep into her. He noticed it, too, she could tell by the way his face hardened, but he left his hand there.

They arrived at home and Harry offered to put the kids to bed. Karen raised her eyebrows in surprise, putting on a fake smile just to let him release some of the tension she knew he was holding in. She walked into the bedroom and had begun to take her shoes off when something on the cupboard caught her eye. Her Joni Mitchell CD. She'd been listening to it all week and crying to it, but she didn't want Harry to see it. She didn't want him thinking that she valued any gift he gave her. Surprised at her harshness but still hiding the CD, she wondered to herself if she would ever stop wanting him to feel guilty.

He walked in, and instantly there was a fog-like tension in the room. He smiled at her, took off his shirt, and she turned away. Gosh, it was like they were strangers all over again, guarding emotions and blushing over bare skin.

"How was your flight?" she asked softly. An ordinary question, she thought, a safe question.

"It was fine," he answered, "uneventful."

"A good thing, I suppose," she said, and smiled at him. He smiled back, grateful for even that, and sat on the bed. His shoulders sagged as he sighed heavily, his bare back to her, and suddenly a sadness enveloped her that she could not control. What had he done to them?

"Karen..." he started, and she almost stopped him. Instead, she sat on the opposite side of the bed and stared at the wall, her arms crossed. "If I had to say I was sorry every day for the rest of my life I would, you know that." He turned to her, touched her stiff, uninviting shoulder, turned her around. "We can't go on like this."

"No, you're right, we can't," she said, more harshly than she meant, and watched his blue eyes become more and more focused on her face. "But I can't just forgive you, Harry. I just can't forget this. Especially when I don't even know what really happened."

"I know. That's my fault. Those three weeks... I... well, I was just diving into everything I could think of that would make us talk, but I never thought of just... talking." He smiled, taking her hand. "I am daft, you know that. I'm an idiot."

"Why?" she asked suddenly, her hand tightening around his. "Why did you do this to me? Why betray me in such a personal way? What have I ever done?"

His face looked suddenly defeated, his eyes turned to the covers on the bed. "Oh, Karen, I was a stupid old man who was excited by a beautiful young woman's advances. I didn't think, I... There is no excuse, I don't know what to tell you. I bought that necklace because I wanted to see what could happen."

She turned to him. "Did you have sex with her?" When she really thought of it, she couldn't believe it had taken her so long to ask him that question. Even someone in as much denial as she was in normally didn't respond with the amount of restraint that she had. Not to something like this.

He shook his head. "I swear to God I didn't."

"Well," she sighed, deflated, tired all of the sudden, "that's a start, at least."

NEXT CHAPTER TO COME. (Don't worry, this is not resolved yet!)