Author's Note: I haven't updated in so long and I'm sorry - I haven't forgotten about this story and yes, it is meandering to an eventual conclusion! Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed and asked about it. It's quite a different tone to the rest of my stories at this point, so capturing that isn't always easy. I hope you like this excessively long chapter and will let me know what you think.

Alice could never quite make out, in thinking it over afterwards, how it was that they began: all she remembers is, that they were running hand in hand, and the Queen went so fast that it was all she could do to keep up with her: and still the Queen kept crying "Faster! Faster!", but Alice felt she could not go faster, though she had no breath left to say so.

(Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass)

Chapter 11

How It Was That They Began

A smile breaks across her face as she opens the door wide to her unexpected visitor. "You know, surprises aren't great for pregnant women."

"You hung up before I could tell you!"

She drops to her knees and, with the door still wide open, speaks directly to Addison's growing midsection. "Hi there, little lady. I'm your Auntie Amelia."

Addison endures her chatter for a while - ruefully admitting to herself how much she'd missed it - before extending a hand. "You coming inside, Auntie Amelia?"

Amelia whirls through the apartment, decisively pointing out what needs to go and what should stay before parking herself on the white leather couch in the living room ("Definitely has to go"). She pats the cushion and Addison settles in next to her. "Amelia, I'm thrilled to see you, but-"

"Shh. Presents."

She reaches into her bag and withdraws a pair of tiny pink ballet slippers. They're adorable, miniscule, but - "Your niece is ten inches long right now."

Amelia shrugs.

"She'll grow into them. Oh, and I don't want her to feel pigeonholed, so - here." Amelia withdraws a tiny, butter-soft baseball glove. Addison laughs.

"Anything else?"

"Well, literacy rates are terribly low these days." Amelia rifles in her bag again and withdraws a book.

"Where the Wild Things Are?"

"I always identified with Max."

"That's doesn't surprise me. And what's this one?" Addison turns the unfamiliar book over, then reads the title with a laugh: "It's Fun to Fly on Airplanes."

"I figure the kid will be bicoastal. I mean, if Auntie Amelia stays in Los Angeles."

"As opposed to...?"

"I was just saying."

"Right." Addison stacks the gifts neatly on the coffee table. "These are great, Amelia. Thank you. And - what did you say you were doing here?"

"Visiting my proto-niece. And you."

"That's all?"

"Seriously, Addison, you'd think you didn't get a lot of visitors."

Her last visitors were the Bennetts, so...

"Not a lot I'm happy to see."

"I'm going to stop in and say hi to my old mentor at University-"

"I knew it!"

"But no surgeries. These-" she flexes her fingers "-are just for my niece."

Addison looks at her quizzically, then shakes her head. "You can't feel her kick yet."

"No?"

"When she does, you'll be the first to know."

Amelia tucks her feet under her, settling back against the cushions. "I'll take it."

X

The rest of the night disappears into sparkling pomegranate drinks Addison has perfected ("very refreshing") and sisterly catch-up. Amelia is laughing her way through Addison's descriptions of her interns clustered around her trying to determine the sex of her baby.

"Wait." she stops. "What is the wedding ring test?"

"Oh, you know. We did it for Nancy when she was expecting Sean." She motions with her fingers as she describes it. "You tie your ring to a thread and then hold it over your belly, and if it goes side to side it's a boy, and if it goes in circles it's a girl. No wait, maybe it was the other way around."

"Did it work for Sean?"

"It predicted he'd be a girl," Addison admits.

Amelia laughs.

"And he's still not a good test taker. Didn't he take the SATs three times?"

Amelia's tone is very neutral, rather carefully so: "Are you caught up with all the kids now?"

"Not all of them." Addison picks up the small baseball glove again, runs her fingers over the soft leather. "Nancy's. You know, I've been talking to her a couple of times a week."

"Oh."

"Are you going to call her, when you're here?" Now it's Addison's turn to keep her tone neutral.

"Probably not."

"Amelia..."

"Addie, you're pregnant." Amelia grins, leaning back and propping her feet on the coffee table. "Pregnant! Let's talk about something happier than my dysfunctional relationship with my sisters - not counting you, of course."

"We're not dysfunctional?"

"It's a happy kind of dysfunction."

X

Pomegranate spritzers have given way to Thai food and both women's feet are propped on the coffee table when Addison checks her watch and groans. Getting up tomorrow is going to be - interesting.

"You tired?"

"Nope." Addison draws a weary arm across her eyes. "It's just midnight."

"Good. So." Amelia beams, drawing her legs underneath her on the white leather couch. "Fill me in on the guy drama, Addie."

"What? There's no guy drama. I've been sort of occupied here, growing a human." She gestures at her belly.

"Come on, if I know you, you've made some time..."

Addison studies her hands. "There was a guy..."

"I knew it!"

"Don't get too excited. It's pretty spectacularly over." She gives Amelia a quick summary of her very brief relationship with Tom.

"He ran scared?"

"You can't really blame him, Amelia. Most men his age aren't jumping to sign on for a pregnancy, much less a poorly hidden one."

"You're doing the single mom thing, huh?"

"Not like I have a choice in the matter-" she's single, so very single, and she's made her requirements clear "-but yes, that's the plan."

X

Amelia trails her to work the next morning, and Addison hasn't even downed her decaf when they're chased down in the hall on their way to the cafe.

"Dr. Montgomery!"

She closes her eyes briefly.

"You're off my service, Gardener," she says when he reaches them. "Remember?"

"I know, but I heard Mrs. Cobleigh was back for her oopherectomy and I wanted to assist, if..." he trails off, seeing Amelia. Addison nods encouragingly.

"She was my patient for her hysterectomy, and I just thought she might feel more comfortable with someone she knew assisting you."

"I'll consider it." Addison presses her lips together, rather touched and not wanting to show it.

"Who's the toddler?" Amelia asks brightly.

Addison rolls her eyes, making reluctant introduction. "Dr. Gardener, Dr. Shepherd."

Amelia holds out her hand. "I'm her sister-in-"

"Don't bother," Addison interrupts. "I'm sure he already knows. He's memorized my Wikipedia entry."

Amelia's eyes widen. "Memorized?"

"More like updated." Gardener smiles at Amelia. "But only when it's really important. Did you read Dr. Montgomery's article on fetal viability in the last JAMA? I thought it was one of her best."

"I read it." Amelia nods slowly. "I liked it. What are you, her agent?"

"No. Just a fan. Nice to meet you, Dr. Shepherd."

Amelia tucks her hand into Addison's arm as they walk away. "This hospital is weird, Addie."

"Weird?"

"I thought I'd leave the touchy-feely behind in L.A."

"Yeah." Addison pauses on the mat to let the automatic doors reintroduce them to the sun. "You know, I think I just stopped noticing after a while."

X

It's wonderful to see Amelia. It is, though she's somewhat embarrassed to think it, as if Amelia's brought a bit of the west coast sun with her, tracked some of the Pacific beach sand back into her life.

But something is up.

Addison knows her face, her expressions, like you can only know someone you've loved through puberty, someone you taught how to use condoms and how to wear heels and how to straighten her hair without burning the edges.

They're sitting outside on the terrace - outdoor space is deeply coveted in the city, even when it overlooks an urban landscape. Addison props her feet on the little table in front of her and lets her gaze settle on the East River.

"What haven't you told me?"

"Nothing!" Amelia protests, a little too quickly.

"Amelia." Addison touches her wrist. Amelia's wrists are so small, such delicate turns of bone. Derek was built similarly, though he never liked her pointing it out. Their hands were exactly the same size, Addison's sturdy wrists a sure match for his watch.

"It's nothing, Addie."

"Amelia, I know you." Addison persists gently. "I can tell when you're - look, remember when I did your hair for prom?"

"That feathered monstrosity? Who could forget it?" Amelia grins and Addison almost lets herself fall into the memory. Amelia was anxious, hands trembling a little - with the benefit of hindsight, she thinks Amelia might have been swigging more than pepsi to calm her nerves. But she'd melted under Addison's hands, equal parts grateful and excited.

"Well, you didn't like the first one. Remember, with that side part-"

"It looked like a combover!"

"It looked elegant," Addison chastises. "But anyway, you pretended you liked it because you didn't want to hurt my feelings..."

Amelia shrugs.

"But it was so clear you were disappointed. It was written all over your face. So-"

"So you redid it."

"With the feathers."

"The feathers," Amelia smiles, recollection flitting across her blue eyes.

"My point is, there's something else that you're not telling me."

Amelia is silent for a moment, and Addison is considering giving up when she speaks, quietly. "I slipped."

Addison nods. In the distance, she watches a man and a woman slide together into a taxi. They could be going anywhere.

"It started at Charlotte's wedding, I just -

Addison is still listening but her heart is thumping fast and cold. In some ways her love for Amelia has always been mixed up with fear: Worrying she'd feel left out at her brother's wedding. Worrying about the pack of cigarettes she saw in her purse. Worrying she'd never see her laughing little surrogate sister again, that she'd stay swallowed up by the the drugs and the anger. Worrying that rehab wouldn't take. Worrying that their newly strengthened bond, nurtured under the bright Santa Monica sun, was too fragile to last.

"Addie, don't." Amelia is touching her arm now, gentle little surgeon's fingers. "It was just a slip. Not a fall."

Addison nods, but it's the hormones maybe because she feels tears behind her eyes. She closes her lids. A car horn sounds.

"Look, I wasn't going to say anything. I didn't want to worry you."

"I worry anyway," Addison manages. She opens her eyes to see Amelia's face very close to hers. "I worry about you, I - I love you, Amelia."

"I know." Amelia draws a deep breath. "I love you too, Addie, and I - I guess I can't tell you not to worry about me, huh?"

"Nope."

"How about this, then: I'm worried about me too. That's what's different this time. Okay? I slipped, but I caught myself. I didn't fall."

"Okay." Addison lets out a breath, feeling for a moment like they're breathing as one. Sisters. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, ex-

"Amelia!" Addison grabs her hand, presses it to her belly. "Feel that!"

Amelia drops to her knees in front of Addison, unmindful of the cold flagstone under her legs. "Oh my god. I felt it, Addie, I felt it!"

The first kicks. They sit there, Addison in the wrought iron rocker, Amelia kneeling at her feet, both of them marveling, their hands splayed softly across Addison's flesh waiting for another sign from the life within.

X

"You sure you don't want to come?" Amelia tucks her hair behind her ears, carefully fastening dangling earrings.

"I doubt I can keep up with you and your med school crew. I'll be at Savvy and Weiss's; they're more my speed." Addison's tone is light, but she studies Amelia's eyes, hoping what she said was true. That it was a slip. That she's back on her feet.

"How do I look?" Amelia turns, propping a hand on her hip, showing off her halter top.

"Like someone who'll be home by midnight," Addison attempts.

"Two," Amelia barters with a grin.

"One." Addison rests a hand on her belly. "We need our sleep."

"I'll be as quiet as a mouse. And I can stay at a hotel if that's easier."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. Addie." Amelia looks up at her, eyes clear and bright. "I know you worry, but - you have to trust me too, okay?"

Addison closes her eyes briefly. This melange of pain and love and fear, the tug at her heart when Amelia walks out the door, ballerina-straight posture and braver than even she knows. She rests a hand on the swell of her belly and realizes it's all just beginning.

X

She realizes something is wrong as her finger rests on the buzzer. There's a silence she's unaccustomed to, and when Weiss opens the door his eyes are dark and grim. She sees the back of Savvy's bright head in the open-plan den and before she turns around to greet her she hears it.

Savvy is crying.

The sound cuts right through her but before she can say anything, little footsteps patter down the stairs and directly in front of her.

"Hopie," Weiss cuts her off at the pass, tries to scoop her up but she runs to her mother.

"Mommy," Hope clambers into her lap and wraps her arms around her neck. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry," Savvy tries to catch her breath and Addison and Weiss exchange helpless glances over her head. "I'm sorry, baby, Mommy's just feeling sad."

Hope snuggles closer. "Why are you sad?"

"Mommy's okay," Weiss reassures her, one hand on each of their heads, stroking blond and black hair simultaneously. "You're both okay." He reaches for Hope. "Come with Daddy now and let the big girls talk."

"Go ahead, sweetie," Savvy says huskily. Hope plants a wet kiss on her mother's face. "Don't be sad, Mommy."

Savvy holds her for a moment longer, then relinquishes her to Weiss's arms. He hoists Hope with one hand, squeezing Savvy's shoulder with the other. Savvy watches their retreating backs.

"I didn't want her to see me so upset, I just can't - I -"

"Savvy, what is it?" Addison covers one of Savvy's hands with her own. Fear laps at the corners of her mind - the diagnosis they'd dreaded. "Sav?"

Savvy draws a long, shuddering breath. "He's sick, Addie."

"Who's sick?" Her mind races. "Weiss?"

She hiccups and Addison leans closer, brushing Savvy's tear-streaked cheek with her own. The tears make the years melt away, and under the moisture and flushed cheeks Savvy's the freshman dumped by her arrogant half-back boyfriend. Her swimming eyes are the same ones that locked on Addison's in the meat-locker chill of the OR. Confessing what she wanted: a lifetime with her husband. Addison's own breath hitches. Not Savvy. And as Savvy murmurs, "no," she realizes it's not Weiss either. But-

"My baby." Savvy leans forward, giving the weight of her head to Addison's shoulder. Addison has one more flash of confusion - not Hope - not the perfectly healthy little girl who just bounded into the room minutes ago - but then Addison realizes what she means. The beautiful little boy whose picture she saw on her first dinner with Savvy when she got to New York. It feels like years ago, but it wasn't. The adoption that's taking too long, the red tape-

"What happened? Sav?"

"He's sick," she whispers. She leans back wiping her eyes. "Sorry, Addie-"

"-don't be sorry-"

"-I need to get it together, I just - they kept pushing us off. The agency. And now they let us know he's sick but we can't go there. Our visas won't - and so it's delayed again, and they're not even sure when they can operate." She details his condition, Addison automatically sifting her layperson's description into the medical bare bones.

"I'm afraid I'm not - that I'm never-"

And her fear hits Addison in the gut. No, slightly lower, because she can't even imagine this pain. Addison has her own fears for the child she is carrying, but Savvy's child isn't nestled in the security of her own body. He's separated by distance and politics and she can't hold him to reassure herself, or look into his sweet sleeping face. She can't even do what Addison does now, automatically, for comfort: rest the palm of her hand over the strong beat of her own child.

Addison takes Savvy's hand again. This is her best friend's child, and nothing - not distance, not politics - should be permitted to cause this pain.

"Let me make some calls," Addison says. "One of my old teachers is on the board of One Child One World. Maybe they can do something."

X

Walking to work the next morning, sipping herbal tea and pondering the easy give and take of old friendship, she surreptitiously crosses her fingers in the pocket of her light jacket. Under her fingers she can feel her daughter move, just slightly. We need this one.

And then her cell rings.

"He's coming here!" Savvy cries into the phone. "He's coming to Miami for the surgery. Addie, you're a miracle worker. You're amazing."

The good news washes over her. "Sav, that's wonderful."

She's barely slid into her chair, patient files propped on her desk, when her phone throws another surprise at her.

Three days after their disastrous dinner, it's Tom calling.

"Addison," he sighs. "I was afraid you wouldn't take my call. Listen, I need to explain-"

"I understand," she says quickly. "Look, you didn't sign on for this - there's no need to explain. You've been great, and just take care, okay?"

"Addison, wait. Did you read the paper today?"

She thinks. "Science Times, yes."

"The actual paper - the front page, the business section, that kind of thing?"

"No." But it's on her desk and she glances at it. "What's - oh." The merger is splashed above the fold; Tom's firm prominent in the first paragraph.

"I left you and went right into a conference room. I haven't been out for three days."

She skims a few paragraphs in and sure enough...

"I'm sorry, Addison. Blackout policy. We can't - no phones, no emails, I can't even call the dog-walker myself without a two-degree separation."

The last few days fall into place. There will be time later for self-exploration, but she wonders - just briefly - at how quickly she assumed she'd been rejected. Set aside.

"Addison, you still there?"

"Yeah." She switches the phone to the other hands. "Um, congratulations on the deal."

"Thanks. I really am sorry about the unfortunate timing. And, to revise a phrase, I'm getting too old for this - stuff."

They speak at the same time: "I just assumed - " "I understand-"

He breaks off with a chuckle.

"Look, I have to take my team out tonight. Tradition. Not like we haven't had enough togetherness, but - tomorrow night?"

"I'd like that. My sister-in-law's in town, though-" and she's not sure how long she's staying; it's Amelia, after all.

They make tentative plans for next week.

X

Spring is in the air, warm and fresh. The light breeze carries a wealth of possibilities. There's a touch of humidity curling the ends of her hair, and, of course, there's love.

The kind of love that can only blossom between a four-year-old and her new idol.

That's right - Hope is in love with Amelia, and Addison is trying not to take it personally. It's not replacement, not rejection. Not really. It's just a four-year-old entranced by Amelia's long, wavy hair, and a neurosurgeon who never lost her taste for preschoolers' games. Hope bestows it on her like a crown: "You can be Belle."

"Is that the one who's always reading?"

Hope nods.

"Cool."

"She's been waiting for a Belle," Savvy says approvingly, smiling at Addison and sweeping her own Princess Aurora-hair out of her eyes.

"Great," Addison says grumpily, loading hummus onto a serving dish. She's served up her own competition, bringing Amelia by for an early dinner. Savvy hasn't seen her in years and welcomes her with typically open arms. Amelia is lovable; that's certain.

"Don't worry Addie." Savvy piles grainy crackers around the edge and scoops a handful of grape tomatoes out of the strainer to join them. "Ariel is still a very important princess."

"She doesn't even have legs!"

"So, you have enough for both of you."

"Did someone say something about legs?" Weiss leans around the doorjamb. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yes. The six of us are fine."

Addison and Savvy make eye contact and Addison counts it out: the two of them ... and their legs. Savvy is consumed with giggles and Addison grins to see her so lighthearted. They fly to Miami on Thursday, and the prospect of seeing the baby seems to have left Savvy somehow both exhausted and energized.

Weiss puts an arm around her and snatches a grape tomato with his free hand. "What did Addie put in the hummus?"

Addison gulps, remembering a pan of brownies a decade and a half ago, a moonlit swim, the four of them in the pool at Bizzy's summer house, delighting in how disapproving she would have been. She can almost feel the geysers of hot water from the filter, the hot tang of chlorine and the way her head swam along with her limbs.

Back in the present, Addison can't help laughing. "Everything's okay, Weiss. Except apparently I'm jealous of a Disney princess."

"Well." Savvy recovers, chomping on a baby carrot. "Motherhood makes you do strange things."

"I'm not-" but, she reminds herself, the gentle swish of the little mermaid inside of her reminding her that yes, she is.

X

After the hummus is long gone, they relax in the den with the windows open wide to the spring-scented air. The change in temperature, seasons and time feels poignant to Addison as she watches Hope play with Amelia and rests her hand on the life within her.

The adults talk about plans for Savvy and Weiss's trip to Miami. Addison half-smiles, realizing she should probably include Amelia in that group, but then again, as she hears a loud whoop from the corner where Amelia and Hope are engaged in some sort of princess tag - maybe not.

Hope jogs over, having heard her name, and rests a little arm on Addison's leg. "Where are you going?"

"Addie's not going anywhere," Savvy explains. "Remember, we talked about it, Mommy and Daddy are going to Florida so we can-"

"I want to go to."

Savvy reaches for her. "This is going to be just a grown-up trip, sweetie. But maybe next time-"

Hope pulls away, and grips Addison's hand. "Then I want to stay with Addie." Hope hangs on to her hand. "And 'Melia."

"Hopie," Savvy says patiently. "Remember when we talked yesterday? You're going to stay with Aunt Molly, and-"

"No!"

"Honey," Savvy turns to Weiss. "A little help?"

"Hope, you are going to have lots of fun with Aunt Molly and your cousins."

"I want to stay in my house."

Weiss lets slip the syllable that sums up everyone's expressions: "Oy."

Hope lounges against Addison, defiance all over her little face. Addison almost smiles and then Hope jumps away with a squeal.

"Hopie?"

"Something bit me!"

"Honey-" Savvy reaches for her and Hope trots quickly into her arms.

"Addie's belly bit me!" She points, eyes wide over her mother's shoulder.

Addison puts a hand to the bump in question and feels a strong answering kick. "Hope, it's okay. That was just the baby saying hello."

"Really?" Hope slides off Savvy's lap as quickly as she climbed on. "Hello," she says bravely, standing in front of Addison. Tentatively, she reaches out a little hand and Addison places it gently on the swell of her belly.

"She might not say hello again right away, but -"

"Oh!" Hope squeals again, this time with pleasure. "She bit me again!"

"Kicked," Savvy corrects gently. "Addie, I didn't realize she was already kicking."

"As of yesterday." Addison gestures welcomingly at Savvy, leans back in her chair, and lets her daughter's rapid socialization ease the tension of the previous conversation.

At the door, light jacket around her shoulders, Addison hovers while Amelia says good-bye to Hope. "Sav - Why can't she stay with us?"

"What?"

"I mean, we'll stay with her. She wants to be in her own bed, and go to school - we can do that."

"Addie, no. It's too much."

"I'll help." Amelia unfolds her legs from under her and joins the adults.

"Are you sure, Addie?"

She looks at Savvy's face, the shining eyes so reminiscent of Hope's, and is more than sure.

X

Thursday comes fast. "Okay, Addie, you can still back out -"

Addison shakes her head. "We're in it, Sav. And you already emailed me six pages of instructions, so-"

Savvy laughs. "Sorry. Right. So, the nanny will be there too; she's going to stay all three nights, and if you need anything-"

"-I have an alphabetized call tree. Got it."

"Addie, we have a kid." Amelia grins as the door closes behind Savvy and Weiss.

"We have a kid," Addison repeats as Hope veers at top speed from her bedroom with armloads of coloring. Savvy pointed out that it was better if Hope didn't see the door close; Addison pocketed it, filed away with other bits of mothering information she'd taken from Savvy since arriving in New York. Lord knows her own mother hadn't given her any useful nuggets of information unless teaching your children to mix drinks and then disappear for the rest of the night counted.

"It will be good practice." Amelia busies herself tracing Hope's hand on a large sheet of paper, Hope giggling as the crayon - pink, of course - tickles her fingers.

Hope gives Amelia another tour of the house and they lounge on the chaise in Savvy and Weiss's room, framed pictures of laughing Hope decorating the walls.

"Addie, can we have pizza for dinner?"

The thought nauseates her, but she smiles at Hope's pleading eyes. "Sure."

"'Melia, look what I can do!" Hope clambers onto her parents' big bed.

"Hope, are you-" Addison trails off.

"Jumping is fun!"

"This is a great kid," Amelia announces. "I like this kid."

"What kid?" Hope asks with interest, bouncing on the bed.

"You, kid!" Amelia says. She hops onto the bed next to Hope.

"You can't jump!" Hope giggles. "You're a grownup!"

"Wanna bet?" Amelia jumps a few time and Hope falls over in laughter.

Addison looks from one grinning, dark-haired face to the other and grips the back of the chair for support. She has a date next week. She has an unanswered invite to a Shepherd family barbecue. She has a child in her belly and two on the bed. She has no idea what tomorrow's going to bring.

And as the laughter and jumping intensify, she realizes she's perfectly okay with all of it.

Next time: Addison and Amelia get lots of practice, Savvy and Weiss get to see their son, and Amelia gets an interesting offer.