The Riverdog Award for Philip
Banner: RosDude
Pairing: M/L
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: Roswell and its characters do not belong to me, but are the property of Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, UPN and the WB. No infringement is intended.
Summary: Liz Parker is the classic good girl. She became a doctor like her parents wanted, did everything they asked and now, at 29, Liz feels like she’s hit a wall. Something’s missing. One day she gets a call that she's won the Grand Prize (A 7 day trip for 2 to Hawaii) in a contest she doesn't remember entering but since her love life is pretty much non-existent, she has no one to take with her. Then she meets a certain someone filling in for his father at the newsstand where she buys her paper every morning and decides, for the first time in her life, to take a risk. Liz asks Max Evans, a man she's just met, to go with her to Hawaii.
Note: Large areas of italics below denote the other person/people in a phone conversation.
So here's the deal...I told myself I'd never post more than one fic at a time, but since A Parker Family Christmas will most likely be going on forever
, and since I figured I'd already broken my own rule when I posted The Worst Day of your Life, I figured I'd start this one.So read...tell me what you think and as always...enjoy.
Chapter One
Liz Parker had done everything in her life the way she was supposed to.
In fact, if there was a picture in the dictionary next to the word “dependable”, it would be Liz. A good girl if ever there was one, Liz had never once talked back to her parents, had followed her father’s “suggestion” to create a ten year plan and stuck to it by the letter, and had enrolled in every possible extracurricular activity just to make sure her “dream” of being a doctor was possible.
Liz was honest, hardworking, clever and a great friend. She gave back whenever possible, often spending her free time tracking down funding for some of her sick kids when their parents couldn’t afford the treatment.
By all accounts, Liz had done everything right.
And yet, in what felt like a moment that was becoming all too normal for her, there she stood, locking the door to her office at the end of her work day, wondering where she had gone wrong.
It wasn’t that Liz was completely dissatisfied with her life. She loved her job as a pediatrician specializing in rare diseases (she didn’t know how anyone could be dissatisfied with healing sick kids) even though being a doctor was part of “her” ten year plan. She had great friends. Liz’s best friend Maria and Maria’s fiancé Michael in particular were so close to her, they were like family.
But something…no, Liz was pretty sure that it was someone…someone was missing.
And yes…she knew exactly how that sounded.
“I’m boring.” Liz let out a deep sigh and dropped her body into the left side of the plush loveseat, flipping her black heels off with her toes. She closed her eyes and heard a distinctly deeper sigh come from her right.
“You’re not boring.”
Liz cracked an eye and turned her head languidly to look at Michael who had his right ankle balanced on his left knee, half-empty bottle of microbrew in his right hand. He looked at her steadily as he twirled the bottom of the bottle slowly on his right knee and Liz shook her head.
“Yes…I am. I’m boring. I go to work and I come home or I go to work and I come here. I know that Chang, the man who delivers my Chinese, has a four year old son named Henry. I also know that based on the amount of Chinese food I order, I’m going to single-handedly put Henry through college. I’m boring. I’m routine.”
Michael sighed again and sunk a bit into the couch. “You’re not boring, you’re Liz.”
“Thank you Michael. That’s very helpful.”
Maria poked her upper body out from the kitchen, peering around a pillar. She had a polka dotted oven mitt on her left hand and a multi-colored striped apron on. She lifted an eyebrow at Michael and waved the spatula in her right hand at him. “Michael…if you’re going to counsel her, you need to be more helpful than that.”
Liz lifted her head to look over the back of the sofa at Maria and smiled. “Hi Maria.”
Maria smiled. “Hi sweetie. Bad day?”
“No…just…the same old thing.”
“Oh…well…you are you.” She turned and disappeared back into the kitchen and Liz turned to look at Michael, who threw his hands up helplessly and rolled his eyes.
“See? Me…” Liz pointed at herself. “Bor…ing.”
“For the last time…you’re not boring. You’re you.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“If you’d shut up for a second, I’d tell you.”
Maria’s head popped back out of the kitchen. “Don’t you tell my best friend to shut up!”
Michael shifted his body to more properly face his fiancée, letting his ankle slip off his knee. “She may be your best friend…but she was my friend first.” Maria grumbled a little and turned away, so Michael shifted his body once again, but this time to face Liz. “Liz…you’ve spent your entire life becoming what other people expected you to be. So now you’re twenty-nine years old and you have no idea who you are.”
“I know who I am, Michael. I’m a doctor-”
“And a great one…no one will say otherwise. But it’s your job, Liz. Your problem is not that you’re boring. It’s that you’ve let your job become everything you are.”
Liz sighed and sank down further into the sofa, if such a thing were possible. If she kept going at the rate she was, she’d disappear soon. “I guess I always figured if I did everything I was supposed to do, that my life would just sort of…create itself. And I thought it was, with Aiden, but then…”
“I know. I was there.”
Liz turned to look at Michael, a difficult feat due to how far down in the cushions she was, and saw him looking at her with sympathy. It wasn’t pity, and Liz appreciated that about her friend. Having gone through plenty of bad crap from his childhood, Michael didn’t believe in pitying anyone. Still…Michael understood pain.
“Well…not there exactly, but-”
“Are you happy Michael?”
Michael sank down into the cushions and met Liz’s gaze. “Yes. Maria’s crazy-”
“Thin ice, buddy!”
Michael sat up a little and turned his head in Maria’s general direction, shouting, “But I love her!” He rolled his eyes and said, “Geezus…I swear that woman only hears the bad things.”
“Did you just call me woman?”
“I said that woman. I’m pretty sure it’s not derogatory if I use the word that as an indicator. Shit…” Michael rolled his eyes at Liz and laughed. “One of these days…”
“See…that’s what I want.”
Michael smirked. “You want to fight constantly about stupid things like who forgot to buy milk?”
Liz pulled herself up in the couch cushions just a bit and said, “Michael…you look at Maria like she invented love. I want someone to look at me like that.” Liz sighed and looked away but she needn’t have bothered. Michael was the last person who would judge her. “Aiden never would have….but I wanted him to. So badly. Is that wrong? I mean…I know he-”
“Sweetie…” Maria kneeled down behind the green loveseat and rested her chin on her crossed arms. Her oven mitt and spatula were gone but she still had the striped apron on. “You wanted someone to love you. How can that be bad?”
“Well…” Liz let her statement drop there. Michael and Maria were both well aware of what part Aiden had played in her life, so there was no need to elaborate further. Not that that was something Liz really wanted to do anyway.
Michael growled. “Someone who doesn’t have an ounce of human being in him doesn’t deserve you.”
Maria put her hand on his upper arm and squeezed. Michael visibly calmed down and Liz smiled softly. “I know honey. I feel the same way.” She turned her attention back to Liz. “So maybe you just have to ask yourself what you want.”
“I know what I want, Maria. I want someone to look at me like Michael looks at you whenever you walk in the room, even when you’re arguing. I want to come home from work at the end of the day and have someone to say goodnight to other than Clyde or Chang, my delivery guy.”
Maria smiled and grabbed Liz’s hand, putting the brunette’s hand in between both of hers. Liz always loved it when Maria did that. It was like a smaller version of a Maria hug. “Then you’ll get it.”
“Did I just forget to become a person or something? All that time…when I was focused on school…did I forget to become a person?”
“No…it’s not that, Liz. It’s just that you were always so focused on becoming a doctor that you never gave yourself room for anything that might get in the way of that.” Maria shrugged but winced a little, as if saying the words brought her pain.
“Maria?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
Liz turned to face her. “Are you happy?”
“Yeah…I am.”
“I’m glad, but…”
Michael coughed a little. He was still getting over a cold. “But what?”
“I can’t help but feel a little cheated. I did everything I was supposed to. I worked hard, I excelled, but-”
“You’re not happy.” Maria squeezed her best friend’s hand.
“Isn’t it supposed to work like that?”
Michael shifted a little and drained the dregs of his beer. “There’s no guarantee that what’s supposed to make you happy, will. It’s life, Liz. You just have to stick your neck out there and live it.”
“You’re right. I mean…you guys were never a part of the plan. How did I get so lucky, anyway?”
Michael leaned forward and set his empty bottle down on the glass-topped coffee table. “I caught you in kindergarten, that’s how. By the time the plan was enacted in the third grade, I’d already ingrained myself on you.”
“Thanks again, by the way.”
“Valenti was a prick.” He snorted. “I bet he still is.”
“Coaster, Michael.” Michael rolled his eyes but did one better, standing to toss the bottle in a recycling can under the sink in the kitchen. “And your dad would never have dared splitting up the crime fighting duo that was Liz and Maria.”
Liz laughed with her best friend. It was true that Michael and Maria had been, by far, the best part of her childhood. And as much as Michael and Maria liked to protest, Liz’s parents loved both of them. If Liz were to add the time up, she would have found that Michael had spent more time at her house than his own, even having, on occasion, a reason to spend the night in a sleeping bag on the floor of the Parkers’ living room.
“Hey Liz…I just thought of something. The plan was a ten year plan, right?” Michael exited the kitchen, a glass of water in his left hand.
It was a rhetorical question but Liz answered it anyway, since she knew Michael well enough to know that was what he wanted. “Yeah…but you know that.”
He sat down in his old spot, pulling his right leg back up to rest his ankle once more on his knee. “Has it occurred to you that you’re twenty-nine now? Isn’t the ten year plan past its expiration date?”
Liz paused. Michael was right. “You’re right.”
Michael nodded. “You accomplished exactly what you were supposed to. You made your parents happy…hell…you made everyone happy. Now it’s time to focus on making yourself happy. No plan…no list…nothing.”
“Michael…I make a list for everything.”
“I know…believe me, I know. You made a list for me when I asked for your help in proposing to Maria. But have you tried…just…winging it?”
The oven timer went off and Maria got up quickly. “Have to get the lasagna out.”
Michael and Liz both got up from the couch and made their way over to the table. Michael set his glass of water down to the left of his plate and Liz noticed when she sat down that there was a glass of water by her plate and one by Maria’s as well. She smiled. It was this sort of small, considerate thing that made her love Michael just a little bit more than she already did.
“Is that what you were doing when you decided to take over that bar? Flying by the seat if your pants?” Michael shrugged and served himself some salad into a bowl on top of his dinner plate just as Maria walked in from the kitchen, lasagna in tow.
“You could say that, I guess. I knew it was a risk, but as soon as I saw the bar, I knew I had to fix it up.”
Maria set the lasagna down on a hot pad and, smoothing her skirt behind her bottom, sat down. “Do you remember what that bar used to look like? It was a mess. It really needed someone to love it again. Sometimes taking a risk really works out.”
“Okay…I get it. You don’t have to hit me over the head with it. You took a chance in loving something, not knowing if it was going to work out. But even then, you made plans and lists. You didn’t do everything on impulse.”
“Of course I didn’t. I’m not an idiot. And your dad taught me enough about business for me to know that doing my homework was half the battle. Still…in the end it was about listening to my gut. And my gut told me to buy the place, even though it meant no financial security and no set future.”
“The problem is that I’m the kind of person who reads up on the dangers of bungee jumping before I go.” Liz passed her plate to Maria, who served up a piece of lasagna.
“Liz…you’ve never gone bungee jumping.”
“I know that, Maria. But that’s the point. I don’t take risks. I’ve never taken a risk in my life. I don’t know how to.”
“So start tomorrow.”
“Maria…I told you. I don’t know how.”
“Well…if you’d shut up for a second, I’ll tell you.”
Michael paused in taking a bite from his garlic bread and said, “Oh sure. You can tell our friend to shut up but I can’t?”
Maria rolled her eyes at him but chose not to respond, focusing instead on Liz. “Here’s what you do. Tomorrow…just do one thing you wouldn’t normally do. Take a different route to work, even if you’re not sure whether you’ll be late. Eat breakfast out in a place you’ve never tried before. Whatever…just do something different. And see how you feel.” Maria settled back into her seat, satisfied with her advice.
Liz smiled at the body language but admitted to herself that the advice was typical Maria, and that meant it was good. Maria had a knack for advice, she’d always had, so it was a good thing she had listened to someone else long ago and become an advice columnist. The nature of her job allowed for more flexibility than others would have, and that had been a godsend for Michael when he was fixing up the bar and needed the extra help.
“Okay…I’ll try.”
“No…not try. Do.”
“Sorry.” Liz smiled. “Do.”
Maria winked at her and speared a forkful of salad. “That’s my girl.”
“Maria…this lasagna’s amazing. New recipe?”
“Thanks! Barefoot Contessa.”
Liz laughed. “So basically there’s probably a pound of cheese in here. No wonder it tastes so good. I’m going to have to work that off tonight. Extra time on the elliptical for me.”
Maria scoffed. “Oh please…you have the metabolism of a cheetah.”
“Maria…cheetahs are fast, but I’m not sure they have the fastest metabolism.”
“Whatever Miss Literal…you know what I meant. Oh! That reminds me.” Maria brightened and a smile stretched across her face. “I got the greatest letter today.”
-:-:-:-
Liz opened the door to her apartment and flicked the light on before hanging her keys on a hook by the door and hanging her coat up. An orange and white ball of fur weaved its way in and out of Liz’s legs, purring loudly. Liz smiled and set her purse down on the entryway table then bent down and stroked the cat’s back, letting her fingers run through the soft fur.
Clyde rubbed his head into Liz’s palm, enjoying the attention. Clyde was, in Liz’s opinion, the greatest cat ever. He didn’t bite or claw and he loved to be rubbed, but he wouldn’t put up a fuss if you stopped. He was a little on the fat side, and Liz was reminded of that once again as she picked him up and held him to her chest, but she wouldn’t change him for the world.
Clyde snuggled into her, rubbing his head under her chin and flexing his white paws. Liz giggled as Clyde’s wet nose hit her cheek, surprising her. He certainly had no trouble showing affection, and Liz liked that about him. Holding him snugly against her chest, she walked across her apartment and into her bedroom and set him down on top of her dresser. The tabby reached out for her at first but quickly settled down, lying on his side and extending his front legs off the top of the dresser as he watched Liz move around in her closet.
Liz changed quickly into her workout gear and walked out of her closet, rubbing Clyde’s back lightly as she passed him. He turned over and watched her as she picked up a hair elastic, pulling her hair back. She turned and her long ponytail whipped over her right shoulder.
“Well Clyde…you want to watch Jon Stewart with momma while she works out?” Clyde seemed to understand and sat up, looking at her briefly before he hopped down off the dresser and trotted out of the bedroom. Liz walked out after him and watched him walk in the opposite direction of her second bedroom and toward his food dish.
Okay…so maybe Clyde wasn’t completely perfect.
Liz flipped her TV on to Comedy Central. The Daily Show was just starting and Liz loved to work out to it. She stepped on her elliptical, aligning her feet, and started slowly, warming up before she went all out. A few minutes later Liz smiled at Clyde as he walked slowly into the room and sat in front of her elliptical machine, watching her with a sort of serenity that Liz would kill for. Clyde had it easy.
The orange and white cat tired quickly of staring at his momma and moved over to his navy blue cat bed; circling around the bed before plopping down in the center and starting to groom himself. Liz stared at her cat, his hair contrasting sharply with the fabric beneath him, and reconsidered her thought. While it might be fun for a while to be a cat, at the end of the day, Clyde was dependent on her for food, shelter and attention. Clyde the cat had no free choice but Liz the human did.
Liz started to increase her intensity as Jon told yet another joke at President Bush’s expense and she laughed. Her sweat was starting to bead on her skin, her heart was pumping and she could feel herself getting lighter the harder she worked. She enjoyed working out, feeling her endorphins rise, but she also liked the mind-numbing feeling of doing something she had done a million times before. It allowed her mind to clear, and right now that was exactly what she needed.
Michael was right. Her ten year plan had ended a year ago. So why was she still following it? She had to make a change and she had to start now. She had no desire to be one of those people who looked back at their life in another ten years, wondering what had happened. If she was already doing that now, she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to ask herself the same question, only with ten more years under her belt.
Maria was right too and her advice had been, once again, spot on. But the question was…what part of her routine should she change tomorrow? She considered changing her route to work, but that wasn’t really a feasible option. Walking was impractical because she lived too far away and she could take the subway or a cab, but because she had a meeting out of town right after a patient consult, neither would be a logical choice. Maybe another day they would, but tomorrow wouldn’t work.
She considered going out to eat lunch instead of having her receptionist order in for her, but quickly nixed that idea. Eating out would cut into her time with a patient consult and with her schedule as packed tomorrow as it was, she wanted to maximize all the time she could.
She could visit another newsstand tomorrow for her morning pap-
No.
That was one part of her routine that Liz was most unwilling to change.
Liz liked walking around the corner and seeing Philip standing there, waiting for her. She always got there at the same time and he always had the day’s papers waiting for her, usually with a wink and some sly comment about the day’s headlines. Liz left her apartment early just to have those five or ten minutes with Philip. Like a great cup of coffee, he always started her day off right.
No, Liz was definitely unwilling to give that up.
In the end Liz decided to leave earlier than normal and go out to eat for breakfast in the morning, a relatively safe option that wouldn’t adversely affect her routine but one still out of her comfort zone. Satisfied with her choice, she focused on the TV and saw Jon sign off, so she flipped the channel to a rerun of House that was already about halfway over. She laughed as the acerbic man once again commented on his boss’ backside and glanced over at Clyde, who simply stared back at her, blinking every once in a while.
She finished her work on the elliptical and was about to open her water bottle when her phone rang. Puzzled as to who would be calling her at 10:43 at night, she picked up the cordless handset and flipped it over, glancing briefly at the Caller ID.
Her parents.
“Hey mom…dad.”
Her parents were the kind of people who always talked on the phone at the same time on different handsets, sitting right next to one another on the couch. Liz could picture them now doing exactly that and she was sure they had Jeopardy or something like that on in the background, because they always did. It was something Liz imagined all parents did, although she was fairly certain she was wrong about that.
Hi sweetie! How are you?
Are you eating enough?
How’s work?
Any interesting patients lately?
Liz’s parents also had a habit of talking at the same time, something she hated. It wasn’t that she couldn’t understand them, they were saying the same thing after all, she simply hated the way their empty questions sounded, as if they were being broadcast in stereo. They always asked her the same questions and she always gave them the same answers. She hoped that it would have deterred them by now, but they seemed to not have noticed.
“I’m doing fine. Work’s fine and you know I can’t discuss confidential patients with you. Maria made lasagna tonight. It was good mom…you should ask her for the recipe.”
Maybe I will. So you’re really eating enough? And how are Michael and Maria?
Liz had no idea why her mom always asked her if she was eating enough. It wasn’t like Liz had ever been in danger of having an eating disorder or hadn’t always cleaned her plate. Still…her mother asked her this, every time they talked. Liz supposed it had something to do with your only child living on the other side of the country. She wondered if she’d ever ask the same question if she had a child. She hoped not.
“Yes…I’m eating enough. I’ll never starve with Maria around. They’re fine. Same as always.”
That’s good, that’s good…tell them we say hello. Is business still going well for Michael?
Ah…Liz had guessed this question would be next. Was it a trait of a dad that they always asked others how business was? Her dad did. Perpetually. She had never seen her father in a black tie situation, but she imagined that’s what he would ask, whether he knew the other guests or not. He’d known Michael for 24 years and still, every time, his first question was, “How’s business?”
“Good…good. The bar has really done well. It seems people missed it. It was a real loss to the community when it closed.”
Well…Michael has always had a good head on his shoulders. Good business sense.
Have they decided on a date yet?
“Still undecided, mom.”
Tell them to let us know when they have, alright honey?
“I will.”
This was another thing her mother had said in nearly every single conversation since Michael and Maria had become engaged. Liz liked to imagine what would happen if she didn’t tell them and they were notified of the date along with everyone else, in a wedding invitation or save the date card. Today she imagined her mother dangling her over a pool of man-eating sharks with laser beams on their foreheads. She wanted to giggle but held off, knowing that would immediately spark another conversation with her mother she didn’t really want to have.
Okay…well we don’t want to keep you. We know it’s late there.
Yes, honey, we shouldn’t have called so late. That was rude of us.
“Dad…it’s fine. You’re my parents.” Liz sighed. She hated this part of the conversation too; these words. She loved her parents. Why were they so worried it would be a bother for them to call?
Sleep well, honey.
Yes darling, sleep well. And have a good day tomorrow.
“Thanks…I will. You too.”
Goodbye honey.
Bye sweetheart.
“Bye. Love you. Sleep well.”
Liz clicked the end button on her phone and got down on the floor to do some sit-ups and stretches. She loved her parents and it was clear they loved her back but she wondered if maybe their relationship had been warped a little by the ten year plan. Maybe they had pushed a little too much or maybe Liz had resented them just a little for it, or maybe it was just what happened as you got older. Maybe parents and kids always grew apart. But that couldn’t be right. Maria was as close to her mom Amy now as she ever was.
Liz was careful to use her muscles to support her back as she lifted her upper body for each sit-up and when she was confident she didn’t need to focus on her technique any longer, she allowed her mind to wander.
There was always one question her parents never asked, and that was the question. Liz would never expect her father to ask that question, but she would expect her mother to, as much as she focused on how in love Michael and Maria were. But not once had her mother asked her that question. Not once since Aiden.
She wondered if her mother were afraid to ask. Though that seemed like a stupid thought, a mother afraid to ask her child something, it seemed both her parents were afraid to ask her a lot of things these days. Their relationship seemed to have been stripped down to its superficial bones. When did that happen? Did it start as soon as Liz went off to college? Or maybe it started the first time she decided not to go home for break. Or maybe, even, it was earlier, and they had started growing apart when Liz became a teenager.
Liz wondered if, by the way her mother carried on about Michael and Maria, whether Nancy was worried that Liz might never find anyone, never get married. Liz, by her own admission, was worried that she’d never find…him. Maybe Nancy was simply trying to respect her daughter’s wishes and not pry.
Done with her workout, Liz shook her head to clear it and walked back to her bedroom, Clyde happily trotting behind. Once she entered the room she pulled her cross trainers off and made her way into her bathroom, turning on her shower. Clyde hopped up on the bench at the end of the bed and watched her as she pulled pajamas from the bottom drawer of her dresser.
She stepped into the shower about a minute later and sighed, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the hot water hit her. She laid her palms flat against the back wall of her shower and, after a minute, opened her eyes as the water continued to beat on her back. What if she never found him?
Oh only child syndrome, lol 
But I'd love to see Isabel as a six year old to Max's sixteen - that would be awesome.
