章節 114: 114. Moving Week
AN: Sorry for the delay. I really wanted to get the entire move into one chapter, so it ran pretty long. Barring complications, the next chapter should be up much sooner. And, for those waiting for another chapter of HWA, I don't have a timeframe, but it's in the works... BIG thanks to everyone reading for your continued support.
"This is kind of boring."
Derek chuckled. There wasn't a single drop of paint on the wall yet, and already Meredith was bored. "You're the one who wanted to do this ourselves," he reminded.
Standing on the small stepladder above him, Meredith made a face. "I want to be able to look back and remember doing it. I just...never thought it would be this boring."
"It's been less than two hours," he pointed out as he passed her a long strip of painter's tape.
"Well, it feels like longer." She turned and reached up to press the tape along the line of the ceiling for protection while they painted. "I get the expression now."
"What expression?"
She hopped down and dragged the stepladder several feet along the floor. They'd repeated this process numerous times already as they'd taped the ceiling, doors, windows and baseboards everywhere else in the condo. The living room was the last room, which was good because they were running low on tape, despite the fact that his wife had made fun of him for the number of rolls he had bought in preparation to their painting.
"Watching paint dry," she responded as she stepped back up the ladder and reached for another strip of tape.
"We haven't painted yet. There's nothing to watch dry."
"I think I can make the connection."
He laughed as he ripped off a strip of tape and handed it to her. After Meredith had returned from work that morning and they had said a proper goodbye to the living room floor, he had taken her out to breakfast. They had then returned to the house and loaded all of the painting supplies into his car and driven to their realtor's office to pick up the keys. More than two hours later and they hadn't yet cracked open a can of paint.
Meredith finished with the tape and jumped down again. "One more," she mumbled gratefully, dragging the stepladder down to the only empty space left. "I think we should have paid someone to set up for the painting, and then we could do the painting without putting up with this crap."
"Next time."
She giggled.
He passed her the last strip of tape and smiled at her satisfied sigh when she finished applying it. "Four rolls of tape later and we're finally ready to actually paint," she said, standing on the step stool, still staring at the last strip of tape she had applied.
"Almost ready to actually paint," he corrected.
She turned around. "We've taped every freaking surface in this place. What could possibly be left?"
"Well, unless you plan on painting the hardwood floors, we still have to lay down tarps."
"Right." She nodded. "Tarps should be easier than tape."
Derek smirked. "Yeah, except we should really tape them down..."
Still standing above him, she placed her hands on her hips and glared down at him. "I hate you."
"You love me," he countered.
"I hate tape," she continued. "Tape is stupid."
"Mature."
"I hate painting."
Unable to stay away from his wife while she was being so adorably annoyed, he reached for her hand and tugged until she cracked a smile and stepped down the ladder. The moment he was standing on the ground beside him, he snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her. She kissed him back and then released a laughing breath against his lips.
"You're trying to distract me," she accused.
He chuckled. "I should have done this from the start; a kiss for every piece of tape."
"That would have taken twice as long. And knowing us, we would have gotten preoccupied and forgotten all about the painting..."
"Good point." He pecked her lips once more. "Do you want to take a break before we start painting?" He asked, knowing once they started painting there would be less opportunity.
She offered him a tired smile. "Yeah. Five minutes would be nice."
"Want a drink?"
"Yeah, a drink would be good."
"Not making fun of the cooler now," he commented, purposefully prodding her. Knowing they wouldn't have a fridge to keep drinks cold, and knowing they would want cold drinks, Derek had packed a cooler into the back of his car. Meredith had made fun of him when they had had to stop for ice after picking up the keys.
Meredith giggled. "Definitely not. Having a neurotic husband comes in handy."
Derek rolled his eyes as he crouched down beside the cooler he had left by the front door and pulled off the lid. "I am not neurotic."
"Suuuuure," she drawled.
He ignored her, not taking the bait. "Water or soda?"
"Water."
Pulling two bottle of – cold – water out of the cooler, he shut the lid and stood upright.
"Thank you," she murmured, as she took one bottle from his outstretched hand, and then stepped into his space and brushed her lips against his.
"You're very welcome." A stray lock of hair had evaded the pony tail holder she had used to pull the rest of her hair back and was hanging over the corner of her forehead beside her eye. His fingers twitched and he couldn't help but reach out to tuck the strand behind her ear. She leaned into the soft pressure of his fingers and he smiled, brushing his thumb against her cheek. Her skin was soft under his touch and even though her eyes shone with tiredness, they still sparkled as they met his. "I love you," he whispered.
She smiled softly at him. "Yeah?"
He leaned closer. "Yeah," he breathed, kissing her again.
"Mmm, I love you, too," she breathed back.
"We finally have our new home," he whispered.
Tucking herself against him, Meredith sighed. "Yeah."
He closed his arms around her small frame. "We can take a longer break if you want. Painting can wait." He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd called her a trooper the day before. Her strength and determination amazed him. If he'd worked the week she had, the last thing he'd want to be doing today was paint.
"If we don't get it done today, we'll just have to do it all tomorrow." The condo was large. They hadn't expected to get the entire thing painted in one go, but they'd hoped to get the main rooms – kitchen, bedroom, living room – done on the first day. He was just thankful the walls had already been primed. There was no way they'd be able to do every wall twice.
"Then it takes us an extra day. This is our home for as long as we want it. There's no hurry."
Meredith stayed silent in his arms.
Derek pressed a kiss to the side of her head, but said nothing more, knowing she was contemplating his offer. And he wouldn't blame her if she took it. They could lay the tarps and leave the painting for the next day. An early night would do them both some good.
After a long moment, she shook her head. "No, I want to start now. One room at a time and see how far we get."
"Okay." He pressed another kiss to the side of her head before releasing her. "How about we start in the living room?"
Having purchased large rollers, the painting went surprisingly fast. With its open concept and floor to ceiling windows, the combined living room/dining room was the right place to start and in less than an hour the walls went from stark white to soft beige. The kitchen, their next adventure, was also relatively easy to paint. Without any appliances to paint around, the kitchen walls quickly became light blue to match the navy counters. They split up next, Derek painting the spare bedroom and Meredith the office.
"Beat you," Meredith chided from the doorway to the spare room.
Derek glanced away from his third wall to meet her eyes. "I didn't know we were racing."
"You're just saying that because you lost."
He chuckled. "It wasn't a fair competition. The office is smaller than the spare room."
She rolled her eyes. "You're just a sore loser."
"Fine, if that's the way you want to win..." He trailed off on purpose, knowing his competitive wife wouldn't be able to let it go.
"I hate you."
"You know, we've only been married for four months and I've lost track of how many times you've said that to me today. Should I be concerned?"
Meredith laughed. "I love you as well," she added.
He joined her in laughing. "Why don't you move on to the bathroom? We're almost done this floor." He turned back to the wall he was painting, expecting Meredith to leave. Instead, he heard her soft footsteps move towards him.
"I am glad we're doing this," she murmured as her small hands snaked around his waist and she pressed her front against his back. "Painting kind of sucks, but at the same time...I'm having fun."
"Me too," he said honestly. "Though, pretty much anything is fun with you."
He felt her lips against the back of his neck. "Corny."
"But true. I wouldn't do this for all the girls."
She giggled. "Thank you for doing this with me."
Derek paused in his painting to lean back into his wife's arms. "It was a good idea for us to do this ourselves," he told her. "Good memories."
She pressed her face into his back, right between his shoulder blades. Her smaller frame pushed against his as she sighed and her arms tightened around him.
With a smile, Derek allowed his wife her moment and returned to painting, knowing this was all a much bigger deal to her than him. To Derek, this was a welcome step forward. He looked forward to the privacy of living with just his wife. And he loved the combination of modernism and character that the condo offered. He looked forward to this place being his new home. Meredith, on the other hand, had never truly had a place to live that felt like home. She had enjoyed living in her mother's old house with him and her roommates, but her history with the house prevented it from ever being a place she could feel completely safe and at home. This was an opportunity for her to feel at home, probably for the first time in her life. So, even though she looked forward to the move for the same reasons as him, she had even more to gain.
After a long moment, she sighed and withdrew her arms from around his waist. "I'll go start on the bathroom."
Derek let her go without a word, and quickly finished with the last wall of the room. By the time he joined Meredith in the bathroom, she was on her second wall.
"I beat you," he mocked.
She shot him a look. "Unless you painted a room down here that I didn't even know existed, I'm lapping you."
He laughed. "How's it going in here?"
She scrunched her face. "Okay, but there's a lot to paint around, so it's a little slow."
"Maybe it's you that's slow," he prodded with a smirk.
She stopped painting the wall and turned to him, the paintbrush held out between them like a weapon. "Excuse me? I am so the superior painter in this marriage."
He ignored the paintbrush, certain she was joking. "Now there's something to be proud of..."
In one moment she stood glaring at him, her eyes sparkling, and in the next moment she reached out with her paintbrush and smeared his chest with light green paint.
Taken by surprise, Derek glanced down at himself, and then back up at his now smirking wife.
"I've wanted to do that for hours," she announced, clearly pleased with herself.
He reached for the paintbrush, but she shrieked and pulled her hand away. Stepping forward, he reached again and managed to catch her flailing arm by the wrist.
"No!" She laughed as he pulled her hand down so it was between them, still holding the wet paint brush.
"Now, where should Meredith paint herself?" He asked, as if contemplating. He pressed her hand closer to her own face so that the brush tip was only inches from her cheek.
She giggled, but held his gaze, her arm relaxing in his grasp as if she was no longer fighting against him. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh, I would dare," he countered, leaning in closer.
She smirked, and before he could react, she pushed her hand towards him, catching him on the chin and neck with the paintbrush.
Shocked at the turn of events, he stood motionless for a moment, chastising himself for letting his guard down – he should have known her plan the moment she stopped fighting – and then moved forward. Momentarily forgoing the fight over the paintbrush, he pressed his chest against hers, sharing the green paint she had smeared across her chest.
"Derek," she cried through her laughter.
"You started it," he countered, wiping his chin off on her shoulder, not even caring that she was wiping whatever paint was still on the brush off on his back.
"You were asking for it."
He laughed and pressed her back against the wet wall behind her.
Meredith shrieked. "Cold!"
"This will warm you up," he murmured against her lips, before kissing her soundly.
She gave into the kiss, relaxing in the space between Derek and the wall. The paintbrush fell to the ground – good thing for the tarps. He pressed against her with a groan. She moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer to her. He reached out to brace himself on the wall, but his hand slipped on the wet surface.
He pulled away breathing hard. "Maybe not the best place to do this."
Meredith giggled. "You totally ruined my painting job."
"We can repaint." He made a face at his now green palm.
"It's a good thing we're not wearing any clothes we want to keep," she said dryly.
Derek smirked at the fact that he had totally won the paint fight. While she had gotten his chest, his chin and a few swipes on his back, she had a matching smear on her chest, paint on her shoulder, a matching green chin from their kiss and her entire back, from head to toe, was covered in green. "Good point," he said, reaching to wipe his wet hand across the fabric covering her breasts.
Meredith rolled her eyes. "Now that's mature."
He pecked her lips before releasing her and stepping back.
She made a face as she peeled herself off of the wall and then turned to survey to damage. She giggled at the outline evident in the paint – her form and Derek's handprint. "It looks very dirty."
He chuckled his agreement at her outline on the wall. "How about we finish downstairs and call it quits for the day? We can paint upstairs tomorrow."
"Okay."
He smiled and reached his dry hand to wipe the paint off of her chin. "You're cute in paint."
"So are you," she said, mirroring his actions by wiping the paint from his chin. She then smirked and wiped the end of a finger on the tip of his nose.
He laughed, but restrained himself from retaliating. "You feel better now?"
She nodded.
"Truce?" He held out a hand.
"Truce," she said, shaking his hand, "For today, anyway."
Used to waking to the sound of an alarm or pager, Meredith was momentarily disoriented after waking on her own accord. Sun was streaming through the window. It was later than Meredith had been able to sleep in for a while.
Blinking the fuzziness from her eyes, she glanced at the alarm clock. It was just after nine in the morning. She yawned and stretched.
And winced.
A groan escaped her mouth and she curled her arms around her small frame.
"Mer?" Derek whispered from behind her, his voice filled with sleep and quiet as if he wasn't sure she'd actually made a noise.
"Ouch," she complained, closing her eyes and willing herself back to sleep where she'd been blissfully pain-free.
She felt the bed move as Derek shifted behind her. And then his arm snaked over her waist and he pressed against her back. "What?"
"Every freaking muscle in my freaking body hurts," she declared.
Derek settled around her. His breath was hot against the back of her neck. His body was solid against her back and his arms were comforting around her. Even his legs were warm against hers. "I'm sore, too."
"Painting is stupid."
He chuckled. "It was your idea..."
"Well, you should have stopped me. Isn't it your job as my husband to stop me from doing stupid things?"
He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. "Mer, I wouldn't dream of trying to stop you from doing anything you have your heart set on doing."
With a huff, she turned in his arms, wincing at the movement. "Are you calling me stubborn?"
Derek smirked. "Yes."
Despite her determination to glare, she cracked a smile. "I wish we could just stay here today. It's so warm and cozy." She burrowed against Derek's chest to prove her point and sighed, her face tucked into the crook of his neck.
He rubbed her back. "We can stay here, if you really want, but that means we won't finish painting, which means we won't be able to move in as soon as we want. And it means we'll miss the appliance delivery, which I'm sure will piss of the store, so it'll be at least another week before we have appliances, which means-"
"I get the point," she cut him off.
He hugged her to him and then released her. "If we hurry we can get the upstairs painted before the delivery truck shows up."
"Okay," she mumbled.
Derek rolled out of bed and stood. "Are you getting up?"
"I want to, but I can't move. Everything hurts. The back of my legs, my back, my shoulders, my arms." She sighed. "I feel like I ran a marathon."
He chuckled. "If painting for a few hours feels like you ran a marathon, then you're really out of shape..."
She managed the strength to lift her head and glare at him.
He lifted his hands in mock surrender before she could say a word. "I'll go get you some ibuprofen."
"Please," she agreed.
Derek leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek before leaving the room.
Laying her head back down, Meredith sighed. "Painting is stupid," she mumbled to herself.
After leaving the condo to dispose of the last of the painting gear and supplies they had gone through, Derek let himself back in and immediately chuckled at the sight. They had brought in and stacked a number of area rugs that morning, and right in the middle of the stack was his wife, laying flat on her back, her eyes shut, and her arms and legs splayed at all angles. She, like he, had changed out of her 'painting clothes' now that the upstairs had been painted to match the downstairs. She was now dressed in jeans and a green top that he thought brought out her eyes. Tiptoeing over to her prone form, he gently lifted one foot, meaning to tickle her abdomen with his toes.
"Don't even think about it," she warned, not even bothering to open her eyes.
"What makes you think I'm planning on doing anything?"
Despite the fact that her eyes were still closed, he sensed she was rolling them. "Because I know you."
With a smiled, he settled himself on his back beside her and reached for her hand.
"Painting is done."
"Painting it done," she echoed. "Finally."
He smiled at her relief. Despite the muscle pain she'd woken up with that morning, she'd still spent the morning proving she could paint faster than him while they completed the upper level. "So, I'm thinking when we build the house we'll hire painters?"
"Maybe. It wasn't that bad."
He laughed. "Can you even move?"
She made a face. "My arms are killing me. Why are you not in as much pain as me?"
"Maybe because you're overly competitive and went as fast as you could to beat me. I know to control myself."
"Smart ass."
"Not that I'm complaining," he added, purposefully baiting her, "You saved me from being as sore as you. I guess I should be thanking you."
"I hate you."
He chuckled at her flat tone, having lost count of the number of times she'd said that to him over the past two days alone. "I guess this just means I win."
She sighed, but said nothing.
He echoed her sigh and squeezed her hand. "What do you want to do now?"
"Lie here."
He laughed. She had yet to so much as open her eyes. "As much as I love lying here with you," he squeezed her hand again, "It's not very productive."
"Shouldn't the appliances be here by now?"
He glanced at his watch. It was a little after one in the afternoon.
"They said between twelve and four. So, hopefully soon."
"Other than that all we planned on doing today was cleaning, right?" They wanted to clean the bathrooms and kitchen before they started to move their things in.
He nodded. "And we could lay out the rugs," he said, patting the pile of area rugs underneath them.
Meredith released his hand and shifted. For a moment, he thought she was going to get up. Instead, she turned towards him. "In a few minutes," she agreed, leaning her body into his and settling her head on his shoulder. She reached her arm across his chest and lay contentedly against him.
Derek waited until she stilled before looping his arm around her small frame. "In a few minutes," he agreed easily, knowing he'd lay like this for hours with her if that was what she wanted.
She drew a deep breath and slowly released it. "This is comfy."
"Yeah," he agreed, "Though it will be more comfy once we have a couch. Or a bed."
She giggled. "It is kind of empty in here." Now that the walls were coloured, the rooms seemed incredible bare.
"Not for long." Some of their furniture was set to be delivered the following day.
"Hmm," came Meredith's response. She splayed her fingers against his chest and rubbed her thumb across the material of his shirt.
Not feeling an ounce of tension in her body, Derek left her to her silence, knowing she needed it to absorb all the changes that came with moving. She had to internalize her feelings first, had to be able to make them make sense to herself, before she could verbalize anything to him. It wasn't that she was keeping him out of her thoughts; it was that she wanted to feel everything with him, but didn't always know how. She needed to let the jumble of feelings roll around in her head until they could be named. Happy. Sad. Afraid. Hopeful. Anything. After a lifetime of not allowing herself to acknowledge her feelings, she needed some time now to understand them before she could share.
At each step and delivery, the move became more and more real. He didn't expect her to have anxiety about it, but knew his wife wouldn't be who she was if she didn't feel the changes. He'd learned a long time ago to let her feel the changes and wait for her to come to him with her thoughts.
Closing his eyes, he sighed, enjoying the feeling of having Meredith so close. With their hectic schedules he'd learned to take advantage of the moments he could. If the delivery truck didn't arrive until 3:59 – which was a good possibility in a 12-4 window – and Meredith didn't initiate getting up, he was content to lay right where he was until then.
"I like it here," Meredith declared suddenly.
He opened his eyes and smiled. "I like it here, too."
"I wasn't sure how long it would take, or if it was something that I had to work at or would just happen."
"Liking it here?"
"Having it feel like home here."
He felt the breath leave his chest at her words. His biggest struggle with being her partner was remembering that not only did she not have the same experiences as him, but hers hadn't even come close. She hadn't felt a lesser degree of 'home' to her childhood dwellings; she hadn't felt it at all. With his background it was hard to remember that her perspective was so very different that he would never have even considered her perspective on things had he not fallen in love with her. He had to actively remind himself to rethink and reconsider so many things he took for granted in life.
"You feel like home here?"
"I think so," she said quietly.
His heart tugged at her statement. So new was she to this that she wasn't even sure what it should feel like. "I think so, too," he said, encouraging.
"I know we've only officially owned it for, like, twenty-four hours, and that it's, well, empty..." She trailed off with a giggle. "But I like it here. It feels comfortable. And I can imagine us living here."
"We'll make lots of good memories," he promised, imaging their future in this home. The early mornings and the lazy Saturdays. The nights where they'd be too exhausted from their jobs to do more than order in and curl up on the couch together.
Pushing herself off of him, she scooted up and brushed her lips against his. "We already are."
"Corny," he whispered, echoing the playful teasing he'd been on the receiving end of a lot lately.
She giggled, and his heart swelled at the sound. He'd done that. He'd made her happy. She pulled back, but he pressed his hand to the back of her neck, insisting on one more kiss.
Meredith laughed against his lips between what became more than one kiss.
When she eventually pulled away, she sat up beside him, hip to hip, facing him. "I guess we should get some work done, or we're never going to get moved in."
He sat up and mirrored her position. "Slave driver."
She giggled. "Where should we start?" She patted the rugs underneath them. "The rugs?"
"Sure," he nodded.
She stood. "We should probably sweep the floors first, huh?"
He glanced around the room as he stood, noting the dust and bits of debris that had accumulated on the floors. "Good point." His gaze found the walls and the lines of green separating them from the floors, ceiling, windows and doors. "And we need to pull down the tape before we sweep the floors, cause it's just going to dump dried paint dust onto the floors."
Meredith followed his gaze and made a face. "I forgot about the tape." She sighed. "After we spent so much time putting it up."
"We could leave it up there," he suggested.
She smiled. "It would be an interesting decorating choice."
"It wouldn't really go with the furniture we picked out."
"But we'd be making a statement."
He chuckled. "I'm just not sure what kind of statement..."
"Okay, let's do this thing so we can be done with the stupid tape forever."
Biting his tongue to keep from reminding her that they'd need to remove the tape from the upper level the next day, Derek walked over to the small pile of miscellaneous things they had brought for their moving week; cleaning supplies, paper towel, garbage bags, the cooler, and so on. He pulled two garbage bags out of the box and passed one bag to his wife. "I'll race you," he joked.
She smiled as she took the offered bag. "Racing is a bad idea. I don't want to risk pulling paint off with the tape, because the last thing I want to do is have to repaint."
"You're just afraid because you know you'd lose."
Her body quivered ever so slightly. She took a slow, deep breath.
Derek smirked, knowing he'd hit a nerve. She was fighting her own competitive side that was urging her to accept his challenge.
"You're the slow one," she finally retorted. "I don't want to embarrass you."
He debated a moment before decided to push her a little further. "Hey, it was your room we had to finish painting last night before we left. If you'd been able to keep up, we could have left sooner."
"Repainting," she clarified. "We had to finish repainting it. And the only reason we had to repaint it was because you destroyed a perfectly good wall of paint!"
He laughed at the memory of her outline in the green paint on the downstairs bathroom wall. "We should have taken a picture."
She giggled. "It's good that we didn't. It looked a little porny."
"What's wrong with that?" He prodded.
Ignoring his question, she turned to survey the living room. "Okay, how about you start low and I'll start high."
"And we'll meet in the middle," he added playfully.
She shot him a look that screamed 'if I didn't love you so much...'
"Yes, dear," he added.
With another playful smile, she retrieved the stepladder from near the door and dragged it over to the edge of the wall. He watched her step up to the top and carefully peel a long line of tape off of the edge of the ceiling. She rolled the tape into a ball, climbed down the ladder and shoved the tape ball into the garbage bag. She then dragged the stepladder down to the next strip of tape and climbed up to the top. However, instead of reaching for the tape, she turned to him, hands on her hips. "Are you going to help?"
He smirked. "You're sexy on a ladder. I'm a little distracted."
She cracked a smile. "Seriously, Derek, you're just proving how slow you are."
Refusing to take her bait, he moved to the other side of the room and started peeling off all of the tape in reach.
They were nearly finished when there was a knock at the door.
Having just climbed to the top of the step ladder, Meredith glanced at him. "The appliances?"
He glanced at his watch. 2:17PM. "Maybe." He padded over to the door and swung it open. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. Instead of some unenthusiastic delivery man, he found his wife's best friend.
"Cristina," he greeted.
She nodded at him. "Hey."
Stepping out of the doorway, he waited until Cristina crossed into the apartment before shutting the door.
"What are you doing here?" Meredith asked, stepping down the ladder.
Cristina slipped off her shoes and joined Meredith in the living room. "This place is huge," she commented, turning in a full circle. "When you said it was an apartment I was expecting less than a thousand square feet. This has got to be more than two."
"Yeah, it's...not little."
"The colour looks good," Cristina added.
"You picked it out."
Derek smiled at that. When Meredith had told him Cristina had had an informed decision on paint colours, he had barely believed it.
"Appliances here yet?"
"Soon."
"Good, I didn't miss the delivery."
Meredith laughed. "I thought you were joking about that."
"I wouldn't have given up a surgery for it, but..." She trailed off with a shrug.
Furrowing his brow, Derek spoke up. "You came to watch our appliances get delivered? Do you have some thing for appliances that I don't know about?" He glanced to Meredith and then Cristina.
"It's not about the appliances," Cristina explained. "It's about the men delivering them."
"I don't underst-" He cut himself off as a wave of understanding washed over him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You came here for the sole purpose of gawking at delivery men?"
Cristina shrugged, clearly unbothered for him to know.
He turned his attention to his wife, who blushed slightly and avoided his eyes.
Shaking his head, Derek smirked. "Why don't you give Cristina a tour?"
Meredith took the out and quickly ushered her best friend down the hallway that led to the office, spare bedroom and downstairs bathroom, situated on one side of the large, combined living room/dining room. On the other end was the kitchen, pantry and laundry room. Upstairs was the loft-style master bedroom, complete with walk in closets and an on suite bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub. The outside terrace on the lower floor was several times deeper than the average balcony and stretched most of the length of the condo. Upstairs, the master bedroom had its own small, private balcony.
Able to hear giggling and talking, but no actual words from down the hall, Derek chuckled. He didn't understand their relationship, but he respected it and was grateful for it, for Meredith's sake. Leaving them to their chatting, he turned back to his task of removing the tape.
After far longer than it should take to show someone three empty, undecorated rooms, Meredith and Cristina appeared from the hallway.
"...And this is the dining room," Meredith announced with a wave of her hand to the left side of the room, "living room," she waved at the middle, "kitchen," she waved at the right side.
"I like the view," Cristina commented.
"It's even better from upstairs," Meredith said, enthusiasm lining her voice as she led Cristina to the stairs that would lead them up to the master suite. And then there was more laughing.
Derek chuckled, not minding at all being left with the last of the tape in the very large room when his wife was able to be so excited with her friend.
With just one more strip of tape to go, there was another knock at the door. This time it was the appliance delivery. Derek had to bite back a smirk at the sight of the delivery man standing on the other side of the doorway, clipboard in hand. Likely in his mid to late fifties, he was forty pounds overweight, bald, and wearing very faded jeans and a wrinkled, ripped tee shirt. Probably not exactly what Cristina was hoping for. He actually had to cough to mask a chuckle at Cristina's expression when Meredith and Cristina came down the stairs.
"We have two more deliveries tomorrow," Derek whispered to his wife's best friend. "Are you free between 10 and 5?"
"Shut up, McDreamy," she hissed.
"Our fridge is sad," Meredith announced.
"Then we should send it back. I specifically requested a happy fridge," Derek quipped.
Meredith glared at him.
He chuckled. "Why is it sad?"
Meredith motioned him over to her side of the open door. "See," she said, waving her hand at the emptiness. Three bottles of water stood in the very large door and a single apple sat in the middle of the top shelf. After the appliances had been delivered and hooked up the day before, Meredith and Derek had finished removing the tape from the rest of the downstairs, cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms, swept the hardwood floors, vacuumed the carpeted rooms, laid out the area rugs, and then emptied the remaining contents of their cooler into their shiny new fridge before heading back to the house for the night.
Derek nodded his agreement. "It is a little sad. One of us has to be here all day for the deliveries, but the other can maybe make a grocery store run?" There were two deliveries planned for the day; the living room, dining room and kitchen furniture, and the wrought iron patio set they had picked out for their downstairs terrace. The bedroom and office furniture were expected the following day. And then the day after, Friday, Meredith and Derek had to return to work. They were each working Friday and Saturday, with the following Sunday and Monday off work. Their goal was to get as moved in as possible by Thursday night.
"Good idea."
"But you know what we need to do right now, don't you?"
She shook her head.
"Pull the tape off the upstairs walls."
She made a face. "I'm really starting to hate tape." Having only painted the upstairs the previous morning, they hadn't touched the tape yet.
"It'll be quick," he promised, "And then no more tape."
Meredith smiled and bumped his hip with hers. "Okay." She shut the fridge and led the way up the stairs to the master bedroom.
Derek was pulling his third strip of tape off the wall when Meredith walked behind him, brushing his back as she did so. He shot her a happy smile. The moment he turned back to the wall and reached for another strip of tape. Meredith made a noise that sounded like a muffled laugh. He glanced at her, but she was looking away from him, focussed on the opposite wall. Several strips of tape later, the same thing happened. Meredith walked by him again, brushing his back with her hand. Again.
He glanced at her again.
She covered for a laugh with a cough.
"What are you planning?"
"Nothing."
"I don't believe you."
She laughed, her eyes filled with humour. "I'm not planning anything."
"Then what are you doing?"
She simply shrugged and turned back to the wall.
When she attempted a third pass, he spun towards her. She jumped and quickly dropped her hands to her side. He took in the clearly guilty expression on her face. "Seriously. I know you're up to something."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
He allowed his eyes to slowly travel down her body, taking in every detail, looking for some indicator of what she was up to. She raised her hands, as if to exert her innocence. He followed her movements, taking in the small amount of tape in her hand. The tape. It had something to do with the tape. But what?
He glanced at the walls. She'd taken down a substantial amount of tape. But there was only a small amount in her hand. Where had she put the rest?
With a sigh, he realized what she had been doing. He reached behind himself to pull several strips of tape off of his back. "Mature."
Meredith laughed.
In retaliation, he pressed a strip across her abdomen, and then another across her breasts.
"Who's the mature one now?"
With a chuckle, he stepped forward and pressed his lips to hers. The tape could wait.
The first delivery arrived at eleven in the morning, and Meredith and Derek spent an hour directing the delivery men on where to place furniture. They then spent another hour removing the protective coverings. At a little after one in the afternoon, Meredith collapsed onto their brand new leather couch.
"Oh my God," she murmured, "This is the most comfortable couch ever."
Derek padded over to her and nudged her hip with his knee. Meredith rolled onto her side and shifted closer to the back of the couch. Derek lay on his back beside her, and she snuggled against his warm body. "This is the most comfortable couch ever."
"You're pretty comfy, too," she added, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck and closing her eyes. "I never want to move."
His arms closed around her and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Me neither."
"We have furniture."
"We do."
The dining room now boasted a table, chairs, sideboard and hutch, the living room a couch, love seat, two lazy boys, side tables, a coffee table and an entertainment centre, and the kitchen a small breakfast table, chairs and square shelving unit.
"And we'll have the rest tomorrow," she added. Their bedroom furniture. Office furniture. Bedroom furniture for the spare room. A table for the front hall. Shelving units for the panty and storage room.
"Mmm-hmm."
She smiled and snuggled a little closer to her husband's warmth. Her head had been a mess of swirling thoughts and emotions for days now, and these short cuddling sessions were helping her take a step back and just be for a period of time. She felt so safe in his arms that she could delve into her mind and start to make sense of what she was feeling.
She was less sad about leaving her roommates than she had expected – she'd lived with Izzie for well over a year and Alex for close to six months – but maybe that was something to come. She hadn't actually spent a night away from the house yet, so missing her roommates could just be delayed.
Apprehension was something else she had expected to feel. She'd tried to keep it from Derek as best she could, knowing there was nothing for her to actually worry about, but she hadn't been able to push it from her own mind. It wasn't the moving as much as the unknown. She didn't know what 'home' was supposed to feel like, so what if she moved and felt nothing? Or what if after the move she missed the house? And what would it be like to live with just Derek? Yes, they had been living together for months and months, officially, and longer, unofficially, since the day she'd held her hand on a bomb and demanded they always sleep in the same bed. And yes, they'd been married for four months. But still. Getting married hadn't changed the way they'd lived their lives. It had changed her name and the appearance of their left hands, but nothing more. They'd still lived in the same house with the same people. This was like taking off the training wheels. This was real. Just him and her in a new home. She'd expected to be apprehensive about that, maybe even a little intimidated. Sometimes she felt like she didn't know how to be a real wife.
But she wasn't feeling intimidated or apprehensive or even stressed by the change. She was happy and looking forward to the future here in this place. She was making plans in her head for what should go where and what they still needed to get. She was grateful they'd found such a nice place to live. She appreciated that she and Derek had similar tastes, which had made decorating decisions easy. She was even feeling a little proud of herself, of them, for getting through this change so easily.
Even with all of the good things she was feeling, there was something else. Something she couldn't put her finger on. Something she couldn't separate out from everything else, analyze and label. It was both constant and fleeting, like it was there all the time, but changed constantly with everything else she was feeling. She felt it in her chest; a lightness.
Derek shifted slightly, drawing Meredith's attention. She smiled and pressed her lips against his neck softly, before smiling again. His arms tightened around her, as if he understood everything. She had feelings she couldn't yet understand. She needed time to label them, to understand what they were. She wasn't struggling. She loved him.
Lifting her head, she met his eyes, prepared to try and share with him what she was feeling, but his expression stopped her. Deep blue knowing eyes met hers. His lips curled into a tender smile.
He did understand, then.
She returned the smile, taken aback by how well he knew her. Though, she mused, maybe that was a two way street. She had found herself more and more being able to know what he was thinking or trying to tell her without him saying a word.
Laying her head back down on his shoulder, she sighed, her chest overwhelmed with that unnameable lightness again. But for right now, she would bask in the unknown feeling rather than try to analyze it.
Derek swore under his breath as a badly swung hammer strike clipped the very edge of the head of the nail, sending the nail falling to the ground. Being a surgeon, he avoided physical handiwork as much as possible for good reason. One minor accident could, theoretically, end his career. Even the slightest nerve or structural damage to a surgeon's hands could be devastating. But he hadn't hesitated in pulling out the hammer and two nails to surprise his wife. He'd been planning this for over a week.
He was just glad she wasn't here now to see him struggling with such a simple task. She'd left over an hour ago before to pick up some groceries and other smaller things they would need and now had places to put. Soap, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner. Shaving cream. Dish soap and laundry detergent. Shower curtains. Kleenex, toilet paper and paper towels.
Bending down, he picked up the small nail and then held it up the pencil mark he had made minutes earlier. The first nail had gone into the wall without any theatrics. Four light taps with the hammer and voila. The second, though, was causing him grief. This would be his third try.
Holding the tip of the nail to the wall, he tapped the head several times with the hammer to anchor it into the wall. He then cautiously removed his fingers and hit the nail several more times, and then one extra time for good measure. Stepping back, he surveyed his handiwork with a self-satisfied nod.
Placing the hammer onto the coffee table, he reached for stone frame he and Meredith had bought in the Bahamas. She hadn't mentioned the frame since they'd returned from the trip, so he wasn't sure if she'd forgotten about it. In the excitement of deciding to get married and then the stress of returning to work and adapting to her second year of residency, he didn't blame her if she had forgotten. He hadn't, however, and the frame now boasted his favourite wedding photo. The two of them stood together on the edge of the beach, the water lapping at their feet, smiling softly at each other, having just said their vows. His arms were around her, and she was leaning back slightly in them. One of her arms was looped loosely around his neck and the other hand rested against his chest, right over his heart. The pose was comfortable and intimate and made Derek smile every time he looked at it.
Derek carefully placed the frame onto one of the nails he had hung and shifted it back and forth until it hung straight. Then he stepped back and smiled at the sight of it hanging on the wall. The first decoration of any kind to go up.
Glancing at his watch, he sighed. He had gone to get the frames out of their hiding place in his car the moment Meredith had left, but as soon as he had brought them up to the condo and located the hammer, the delivery truck had arrived with the patio furniture. He hadn't expected Meredith to be gone so long, but was grateful she had. It gave him a chance to hang the pictures before she got home.
Home.
He smiled at the realization that this was the first time he had thought of this place as home. The sight of their wedding photo on the wall just cemented the concept. There was just one thing missing.
He reached for the second, larger, frame. The one his family had given them as a wedding present. He hung it on the wall beside the wedding picture. Twenty-six smiling faces stared out at him; his mother and stepfather, four sisters, four brothers-in-law, nine nieces, five nephews, and his wife and himself. His family.
Their family.
The memory of how well everything had gone in New York the previous week washed over him. In their first trip, Meredith had clearly been accepted, but in their second, she had become family. She had been accepted and welcomed by even his distant family. She had been mothered by his mom. She had even helped talk his sister down on her wedding day. Lauren had told him at the reception just how much of an effect Meredith's words had had on her.
There was a shuffling sound at the door, and Derek turned away from the wall and hurried to help, smirking to himself at the timing.
"Hey," Meredith greeted as he swung the door open, her hands and arms supporting more bags than he could count. "Thank you," she said, stepping across the threshold. "I was trying to decide what to put down so I could open the door."
"Do you want me to take something?" He asked, following as she shuffled towards the kitchen.
"I'm pretty well balanced." She continued to the edge of the kitchen and crouched down so that everything would hit the floor at the same time. After sliding every handle off her arms she stood.
"Did you buy out the store?" He joked.
She laughed. "This isn't even everything. There's more in the car."
"My wife, the shopaholic."
She rolled her eyes and sidled up to him. "Be nice. I even bought your muesli without being asked. And skim milk."
"You really do love me," he bantered.
"I do." She hooked her hands behind his neck and leaned in to kiss him.
"Mmm, I love you, too." He ran settled his hands on her shoulders to kiss her back, and then ran them over her shoulders, down her arms, to her hips.
"Did the delivery come yet?"
He nodded. "We have furniture outside now."
She smiled. "I want to see," she declared, momentarily abandoning the groceries and hurrying across the living room to the floor-to-ceiling windows. She got halfway across the room when she stopped.
He followed her gaze as he caught up, smiling when he realized she had noticed the photos.
"You put the pictures up," she whispered, now moving towards them.
"I wanted to surprise you," he said. She stopped a few feet from the wall, and he tucked himself in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. For a long moment they stared together.
She said nothing.
"If you want them somewhere else, we can move them." He'd picked a prominent wall, and with her silence wondered if she would want them somewhere else.
"No. They're perfect right where they are. I just..." Her body trembled in his arms. "They're just what I wanted." She turned in his arms. Her eyes were moist, but sparkling. "You promised me a wedding picture, and now we have it and a wall to hang it on. And we have a...a..."
"A family picture?" He offered.
The tears in her eyes overflowed her lower lids. "Yeah."
He wiped his thumb across her cheek. "We're going to have dozens of pictures up there one day," he promised. "Hundreds, even."
She giggled. "I think we'll need bigger walls for hundreds."
"Then we'll get bigger walls."
"Yeah...I think there's a level-of-space issue there..."
He chuckled. "Well, then, when we run out of wall space, we'll know it's time to build the house."
She pecked his lips. "Sounds good."
Meredith slowly turned the doorknob and silently pushed the door open part way. She ducked her head through the opening, and smiled when she didn't spot her husband in the immediate vicinity. They had brought two loads of things from the house together, and then separated. She had gone to pick up a third load of things while he had gone to pick up dinner. Derek had suggested that since they now had tables, they could eat at the new home before driving to the house for the night. But Meredith had other ideas. The moment she'd seen the pictures on the walls she'd been overwhelmed with the feeling that she now associated with 'home.' Despite the fact that their bedroom furniture wouldn't be delivered until the following day, Meredith wanted this to be their first night in their new home.
On her trip to the house, she had picked up a few remaining boxes, as planned. She had also pulled their pillows and bedding off of the bed and stuffed them into the backseat.
"Derek!" She called.
No response.
Cautiously, she pushed the door the rest of the way open. A wall of boxes stood by the back wall, waiting to be unpacked. A few had already been opened, and a small number of personal items had been placed around the room. A full garbage bag sat by the door, beside a half full bag. Unopened boxes of small appliances, pots and pans, dishes and cutlery sat on the kitchen counters. The only thing that had been taken out of its box was the coffeemaker.
The apartment certainly looked different now than it had just the day before.
"Derek?" She said again.
Still no response.
She spotted takeout containers from their favourite Italian restaurant sitting on the counter. He was definitely back.
Hurrying now, she scooped the pile of bedding off of the floor by her feet and padded quietly across the room to the living area. She laid the sheets and blankets down on the throw rug in front of the couch and dropped the pillows down as well. Who needed a bed when you had a living room floor? It had certainly never stopped her and Derek.
"Mer! Is that you?" Derek's voiced filter down from the upstairs loft.
"Nope!" She called back jokingly. "Not me."
She heard his footsteps on the stairs, so she met him at the bottom.
He offered her a wry smile. "Funny, you look like you."
She kissed him. "Ready for dinner?"
"Absolutely. I'm starving. I was just putting up the shelves in the closets."
"Good idea. We'll be completely moved in before we know it."
He pressed a kiss to her cheek before heading for the kitchen. "That's the plan."
"How would you feel about staying here tonight?" She asked they began opening takeout containers together.
"And christening the living room floor?"
She narrowed her eyes as she surveyed him for a long moment. He hadn't so much as glanced towards the living area since he'd come down the stairs.
He smirked. "You do remember that the upstairs is a loft, right? That means you can see down over the ledge.
Meredith glared at him. "You were spying on me?"
He shrugged. "Only a little."
"I hate you."
He laughed out loud. "I love you, too, dear."
Despite her best efforts, she laughed as well and bumped his hip with hers. "Living room floor?"
"I think that's a great idea." He kissed her. "Very us."
Hours later, after dinner, after unpacking everything they could, and after finally christening the living room floor of their new home, Meredith and Derek lay quietly together, catching their breaths.
"Wow, that was..." Meredith trailed off, unable to come up with a suitable adjective.
"Amazing?" Derek suggested.
"Amazing," she agreed.
He rolled towards her, his arm stretching across her bare abdomen. "You're amazing," he whispered, pressing several kisses to her lips.
"Hmm," she murmured, "I think it's us who are amazing."
"Extraordinary, even."
The term clenched around her heart. She closed her eyes and breathed. There was a time when she had thought she'd never live up to her mother's expectation of extraordinary. Now she had her own. And she was living it every day. "Extraordinary," she whispered back.
Derek pulled the covers over their bare bodies and pressed against her with a sigh. She turned away from him so he could spoon her, and once they were settled, she threaded her fingers through his.
She felt his lips against the back of her neck and squeezed his hand. "I love you," she whispered. It wasn't something they said all the time, but now, their first night in their new home, she felt the need to say it.
"I love you, too, Mer," he said, "So much."
"So much," she echoed.
His arm tightened around her for a moment and she sighed. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. Her husband. Her partner. The love of her life. And this was the home they would live in for the foreseeable future.
They'd gotten through so much to get here, but she would do it all again if she had to. This was worth it. This feeling of safety, of love and hope and happiness. The lightness in her chest swelled again. The training wheels were officially off, but she had no doubts that they would continue to be the happy and secure couple they had become; a couple with a past, present and future.
Future.
She smiled, thinking of all the experiences to come in their new home. All the good memories they would make, none of which would be overshadowed by memories of long ago.
The lightness swelled stronger, and she released a laughing breath as she was finally able to label it.
Relief.
She had made it. She had overcome everything; her parents, her childhood, her fear and issues. The restrictions of living in her mother's house had been the last to go. Learning to be a partner within those walls had been therapeutic, but now was the right time to move on.
"What're you thinking about?" Derek murmured behind her, his breath hot against the back of her neck.
"Just that we made it."
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