i'm tryna keep my faith

                                    “Yeah, handsome in a kind of bond villain way, you know?” Blair tilted her head with a wry grin which was followed by a playful cackle. She knew that it wouldn’t be long until they were exchanging their life stories like a game of Monopoly. Both of them on a subconscious wave length that whiskey was the only way it was going to happen. Her weak, thin arm linked through Chandler’s, practically dragging him to the direction of Bootleggers and she grinned up at him with a slight shake of her head. “This is exactly why I suggested whiskey. Plus, I can’t wait to hear about frat boy Chandler. Surprised Danny didn’t fill you in on why I left…how much do you know already?”

                             Ghosts could be a paranormal event but really, Blair was certain they were just faces from your past that you saw after years. Chandler, however, was anything but a ghost. His words and kindness had never faded from her memories over the years. “You left too?” she grinned to him with an impressed tilt of her head. “Looks like both our plans got fucked up and we landed straight back at the start, huh?” Blair laughed. “I found a grey hair the other week so I’ll be catching up with your old-man ass.” a boyish slap on the back to her friend was delivered and she nodded to the suggestion. “Sure, coffee works. I always got time. You in the mood for something more along the lines of a whiskey, though?” 

“Uh, excuse you, I think the streak really makes me look handsome,” Chandler said, laughing. He’d been worried she might have gotten awkward talking about how much time passed, or telling her too much about his life in the interim. He didn’t wanna pry. Except that he did, he wanted to know everything. He’d have to tell her everything, too, but he could already tell Blair wouldn’t judge him. Maybe laugh at how he wasn’t as pristine as he’d have liked to be. 

Served him right, really, for trying to be such a moronic ‘good influence’ type as a teenager. “Whiskey sounds great, and I can tell you all about the college and the-” Chandler stopped. “Just realized, I’ll only tell you mine if you tell me yours.” 

                                 When Blair left Frostford all those years ago, it was a spur of the moment decision that she hadn’t managed to let a lot of people aware of. Only now did she feel some guilt for not reaching out to Chandler, guilty enough to actually allow the embrace. Awkward and stiff, Blair’s arms opened to take him in briefly and she laughed slightly. “Think it’s like fourteen, yeah.” she smiled to him, an actual warmth behind her eyes that usually would not be there for anybody else. “Sorry about just running off on you. Had a once in a lifetime opportunity in Cali, y’know? Couldn’t pass it up. But on the bright side, least I managed to get my valley girl accent back.” she said drily, obviously sarcastic as she laughed. “How’s it been here for you? Let me guess, it’s sucked without me.”

That she actually leaned in to hug him warmed his heart; Blair wasn’t a hugger, and he hadn’t given her much choice, he’d just told her. He still knew her, his old friend; at least that hadn’t changed. “No guilt, B, don’t worry about it.” Chandler pulled away, trying to get a good look at her face. She looked tired, and obviously a decade and a half older, but hey— she still had great hair. 

“Not the best, but I was gone for like ten years, too, so you know. I don’t know everything. Hey, those California opportunities came with good things, right? You look good. Not as many grey hairs as me, that’s a plus. Lemme get us some coffees and we can talk,” Chandler said, checking his watch. “I’ve got some time, how about you?” 

It was only after the fact that she’d found out her dad had taken Chandler around the farm of all things. This had set her nerves into motion in the worst of ways and had left Hazel bombarding her mother with questions she was sure she didn’t know how to answer.

 It didn’t stop her though. Why on Earth would dad do that? We haven’t even been on one date! And so on and so on. By the point where her face was turning red and she was truly starting to panic, her mother had grabbed her by the shoulders and had in simple words, asked her to calm the hell down. It wasn’t like she could stop him, after all. 

But it had sent her on questions of her own, how had her dad even known? And she had to wonder about Lyla’s meddling and how far it had gone, suddenly she found reason to blame everything on her and there was the sudden desire to exact revenge for what she’d done, not that she was actually certain she’d done anything at all. 

Still, despite all of this, the idea that her dad had probably taken Chandler on the intimidation tour of the farm which started and ended with Tiny’s bullpen, and the thought that out there was that mint julep drinking wench spreading rumors about her, she’d still agreed to go out with him on a real date, though she hadn’t known what to expect when he’d told her to dress comfortably. As if there was another choice. 

Of course, she was the one to answer the door and she might have bolted right out of it had she not already known that her parents were already asleep. Farm life had made them early risers. And god help the stupid smile on her face when he was standing on the other side of the threshold, she had to ignore the fact that she had butterflies in her stomach again like she was sixteen and getting ready to go on her first date with Toby Jameson. 

“Now Dr. Heine I think you might be tryin’ to get me drunk,,” she closed the door behind her and managed a smile, one that seemed to be only reserved for him, hesitant but excited all at once. “I happen to know a perfect spot for a nighttime picnic,” she told him and automatically linked her arm with his as if it had been something she’d done countless times. “What kinda sandwiches did you bring?”

“Oh no, no,” Chandler said, laughing as he looked up to the sky, his eyes twinkling once he could look at her again. Not that he had any intentions, but he wanted to spend some time with her without the adrenaline rush and the fearlessness of alcohol. Three beers each over the course of a few hours would be perfect, just enough to make it easier for her to laugh at his terrible jokes. “Don’t say that on your daddy’s porch, or he’s gonna come out here and have some more words with me.” 

But she was here, wasn’t she, and he didn’t know if it was because he had something akin to a crush, at the grand old age of thirty-three, but she looked beautiful, the moon reflecting in her dark hair, her lips pulled into that big, bright smile. 

It took him ten seconds of staring at her to realize that he, Chandler, had put that smile on her face, and he had a matching one to boot. How long had it been since someone had looked at him like that? It almost took his breath away. She took his breath away when she linked arms with him, absolutely comfortable with his elbow against hers, them shoulder to shoulder. Like they’d been doing this forever. He could go along with that, even though what he wanted was to swing his arm around her waist and pull her in for a kiss. They’d been moving too fast— he could act like a gentleman, one who could treat a woman to a beautiful night out of conversation without leading her to an alleyway. 

“Pulled pork,” he said. Despite everything he’d just thought about, Chandler went against his best judgment and pulled his arm away from hers, doing exactly what he wanted, his arm swinging around her waist, hand landing at her side. “There’s onions in them, though, you might wanna kiss me before we start eating. Just trying to keep your best interests in mind.” 

Call the Midwife had popped up on his Netflix screen the other night, offering him a very friendly reminder to literally call the midwife he knew, one who was very kind and had sent quite a few clients his way in his few years practicing in Frostford again. Obviously his parents knowing half the town helped, but Aoife’s reputation meant clients trusted her, and now that she was trusting him and putting her money where her mouth was, Chandler wanted to show some appreciation. 

And also just generally be her friend. 

He’d brought muffins and his daughter, often a codependent pair. 

“Hello Aoife,” Chandler said, taking Reese’s hand in his and waving it. He was carrying her, his hip never popped out quite enough to make it all that comfy for his daughter, but she liked being carried and he liked knowing he still could. “Reese thought we should bring you some muffins while Rafe’s at kindergarten. Isn’t that right, sweeheart?”

“Hi Eve!” Reese chimed in. “We have muffins!”

He was joking, mostly about Remy. His cousin, of course, had at least one brain cell all to herself. Chandler wasn’t so sure about Kent. They’d always been attached at the hip, or if they hadn’t, it was some kind of Mandela effect, thinking of Kent when Remy was around and Remy when Kent was around. Kind of nauseating. 

Kind of heartbreaking. 

Almost felt like Remy’s relationship with Kent was stronger than his relationship to his wife had ever been. 

The whole teenage feeling wasn’t gonna go away. No matter what Mads liked to tease him about, Chandler didn’t realize his age by looking in a mirror. It was the spot on his left hand where a ring sat for four years, the photos of his wife hung up around the house. Growing older hadn’t happened in his mind, it happened when he watched Reese start to walk and Rafe start school and Maddy graduate from law school. 

But if he only remembered he was thirty-three when he was around his kids, or at work, then when he wasn’t around his kids or at work, and he was just around Hazel Rollins, it made sense he felt seventeen. 

Fitting, then, that her father had taken him aside during the Fall Festival and forced him on a nice long walk. What are your intentions with my daughter, Mr. Rollins had asked, and he’d picked a time when Rafe and Reese weren’t even around to be his protection. Chandler had been so intimated he’d called the man ‘Mr. Rollins, sir’ every single time he’d had to respond. 

What were his intentions? Was he supposed to have any beyond the very real want to spend more time with her? Spend time just the two of them, figure out every single thing that could make her laugh and try and achieve them all himself? 

‘I’d like to spend time with your daughter, sir,’ Chandler had said, ‘if she’d like to do the same.’ 

Which brought him here, to Mr. Rollins front porch, where Mr. Rollins’ daughter, for whom Chandler had intentions also lived. The moon shined brightly as it hung in the sky. His kids had decided they wanted to insist on a sleepover with their cousins, and they were only going to be able to do that for a handful of years before life started to get in their way. He’d had no choice but to say yes. He’d also wanted to. Made it easy for him to go grab a six pack of what was essentially alcoholic apple juice, a gingham blanket, and some pulled pork sandwiches. 

When the door opened, Hazel behind it instead of her father (proving God did exist, even if Chandler didn’t go to church every Sunday), 

“Wanna sneak out?” He grinned, holding up the Angry Orchard in one hand and the large paper bag with the blanket and sandwiches. “I figured you might wanna join me for a nighttime picnic.” 

closed for @chandlerheine​ 

kelsi turned her head toward the doorway, “hey!  sorry for calling you out of the blue, but i found this in the classroom and figured he might need it for homework.”  kelsi didn’t give much homework, but there was an upcoming spelling quiz that chandler’s son would need his notebook to go over things for.  she held out the notebook and turned to look at him with a smile.  “i didn’t see it ‘til after pick up, otherwise i woulda made sure he took it with him.”

Not that kindergarten was going to make or break college admissions or anything, but what an excellent start for Rafael to make on his education. Six years old, barely into the kindergarten year, and forgetting his homework. “Thanks, Kelsi,” Chandler said. “Sorry to make you stay later just for my knucklehead. Or am I supposed to call you by something more formal?”

@chandlerheine​

Madison hadn’t seen Chandler in awhile but figured if she went to his house, she had a 50/50 chance of seeing him. She parked her car and walked up to the door and turned the knob open. “Chandler! Anyone! Aunt Maddie is here and she is hungry!” She replied with a small laugh. 

Yelling. Immediately. Mostly from his son. Rafe with a towel on his head, tucked behind his ears so he could pretend to be an Egyptian pharaoh, barreled towards the front door. “Who enters! Speak your name!” 

Chandler looked at his sister, who apparently hadn’t needed a key to get in, and shrugged, “Just be glad he’s not asking you for a password. He almost didn’t let me go to the bathroom yesterday.”

The park was full of kids and parents, people he knew and didn’t really want to get stuck talking to when he had time to just sit back and watch his kids run around like maniacs. They were turning out to be quite close, the two of them, even though their age difference felt so large now. Chandler sometimes overheard Rafe tell Reese a complete lie about their mother, his imagination running wild. Even though they both knew the truth and knew exactly what she looked like, Diana in death had turned into, a various times, a glowing angel ( though that wasn’t far from the truth ), a princess of a faraway land, or whatever animal came up to them that day. So far this week, Rafael had informed his sister that four different dogs were actually just their mom, so four different times this week, Chandler had had to face two incredibly cute children with big, bright eyes and pouts and tell them no, they couldn’t adopt someone else’s dog— or any dog.  

Reese’s yelling pulled him out of his thoughts of his wife and his kids, and Chandler looked up to find his kids laughing with their cousins, Reese pulling Tommy towards the jungle gym as he toddled behind her. Toddlers. Too adorable. 

Chandler smiled at them, looking just behind Tommy to find Ava, Tanner’s sister, standing next to his son, niece, and oldest nephew. He waved at her before pushing off the park bench and making his way over to her. “You,” Chandler said laughing, pointing at her. He squinted, pretending to not remember who she was. “You look very familiar to me.”

“I’m not saying you need permission from anyone to talk to me. I just meant I don’t want to start any more arguments.” If it was going to cause tension between Owen and Chandler, Tanner was fine with being ignored by Chandler for one night. What his Mama had gone around saying about Hannah was unforgivable. He resisted the urge to steal a glance in Owen’s direction. Whether the other man was completely ignoring him or throwing death glares in his direction wasn’t going to change much. Tanner knew Owen was angry with him either way. “Remind me to tell my mama that again, not that she’ll listen. She’s gone and stuck herself right in the middle.” Making things infinitely worse. “Yeah, I hope so. Guess that’s one we’ll figure out sooner or later. Hannah doesn’t hate me and that’s what matters most right now.”

“People are gonna do what they’re gonna do, Tanner,” Chandler said, shrugging. “Owen’s not gonna start a fight with me about it. Owen doesn’t fight. He may have some strongly worded thoughts sent your way though. So you should watch out.” 

He did understand Tanner’s worries, however, especially since they’d once played such a large part in his considerations for his own marriage. What would the people say? How would the children cope? Would they be able to find happy marriages after each other, their children part of two families and never fully belonging to their own? He’d never wanted his marriage to shake out this way, with the absolute loss of Diana, but would he have had the courage to walk away from something unhappy? Reese had been the result of them leaning in to their unhappiness, trying to bury their own incompatibility with the distractions afforded by a full house. 

Something about this struck her, the idea that he’d thought about her leaving her reeling, it was a bit too much for someone that she’d only kissed a few times in just one day and she had to remind herself to get her shit together. As cute as they’d been a few days before, acting like they were in the tenth grade, she had to realize that they weren’t. “Not everywhere,” she told him with a small smile, trying hard not to dwell on the idea that he’d asked about her. “Not at the clinic. Or at the bed and breakfast. And I only work on the farm durin’ the holidays,” Still it was seeing Chandler with his kids and how much fun they were having that was her favorite part of working there. The smile she wore was a dead giveaway that she was all too flattered by his compliments and the rosy tint on her cheeks gave away that maybe she’d been a little too affected by something as simple as a wink.

Her stomach fluttered at being allowed a peek into his daily life and she hated the millions of ideas that had bombarded her mind. Something about seeing him so domestic was so attractive. “I’ve seen lots of lions at the zoo,” she told Rafe and watched with too much amusement at the exchange between father and kids. It was like she was a part of something special just by watching this. “But anyone can be a lion, you know what’s really cool is a pirate.” She knelt down to tap him lightly on the forehead above one eye. “I can give you an eyepatch right here.” 

Her attention was turned to the younger of the kiddo and Hazel nodded. “If that’s what you want, then a princess it is. Although I bet you’d make an awesome unicorn, too.”

So maybe she didn’t work everywhere, and even though she had a smile on her face as she corrected him, Chandler still started to second guess himself. Had it come off the wrong way? Had he seemed creepy, or dismissive? No, no. He’d just been trying to say she worked hard and she was likable, that she could fit in anywhere. 

Who wouldn’t want to see that smile every single day? 

Oh boy, too much, he couldn’t say that, not in front of a very large-eared Rafael, practically Dumbo the elephant. Also since they’d gone on 0 dates and had one very passionate makeout in an alleyway. 

He was thirty-three years old and he forgot that fact every single time he was near her. Chandler had winked at her in public for God’s sake. Luckily, he didn’t have to think much about what to say because his children, the angels that they were, took care of that for him. “I can be a pirate,” Rafe said easily. “Rawrrr Arrghh. Same noise.” 

Not quite, Chandler thought. But his son was six. 

“I wanna eyepath, too,” Reese said, naturally, lighting up at the thought of copying her brother. Unicorn idea from 10 minutes long forgotten, Reese put one hand up in front of one of her eyes, the other on Rafe’s. He swatted her away. 

“We can’t be the same thing, you’re a baby, I’m not a baby.”

“I’m not baby!”

Chandler kneeled down to their level, and Hazel’s, catching her eye as he tried to bite back a laugh. They were full-time entertainment, these two. “Rafe, if you let Reese be a pirate princess, we’ll go to the zoo, and we can even ask Ms. Rollins to come so she can show you her favorite lions. How’s that sound?” He looked to her and raised an eyebrow, arm around his daughter’s waist. “Would you like to introduce your lion friends to Rafael over here, Ms. Rollins?”

“Mud. Mud?” Of all the choices for Kent to get snagged on, mud baffled him into a silly face of confusion while he worked it all out in his head. It only took about fifteen seconds for the epiphany to hit. “Mud pies. Got it. Totally understandable.” The thought was waved off and he was onto the semantics and spatial analysis as to how a matchbox car might be consumed, as one does, while mimicking Chandler’s motions with his hands in comparison to his mental image of a matchbox car. While it was a fair argument, Kent wasn’t ready to abandon the theory completely. “On my person? Nah, I’m smarter than that.” Another arguable point. “But I mean, you figure, of all the toys to try to eat – what would you go after? At least they’ve got a slick kinda body to ‘em, right? Meant to be aerodynamic or whatever. I’m sure as hell not about to scarf down a lego with those pointy corners.”

“Mud pies,” Chandler said, using his free hand to shoot a finger gun at Kent. He had to stop patting Reese’s head, since he couldn’t really do both at the same time. An oddity of the human brain. It was a calm day, not quite cold while still chilly, a bite in the air. What else would he be doing if not exactly this? 

He thought about one of Rafe’s matchbox cars. “I mean they’re kind of bulky, right? They won’t shift to fit a kid’s mouth. Legos are more painful but some of the pieces are smaller, so a kid like Rafe, or even this one,” he said, tilting his head towards his daughter, “could probably swallow it with minimal damage to the throat. Probably couldn’t feel the corners at the swallow. I don’t even think your mouth is big enough to fit a matchbox car.”

“Then.. I’ll save you, don’t worry about that.” She chuckled, shaking her head as she glanced over to his children at the comment. Lena let a smile grace her face at the scene; it was quite endearing, really. She’d never thought much into having kids, but she was sure every parents adored their little ones more than the next.

Thinking for a moment, she shrugged at Chandler. “It’s more about what I decide to do. I have a flexible schedule, but I always take overtime. And come in on my days off.” Lena made a face when she thought about how much she really worked. “I really like the sound of that.”

“My white knight,” Chandler said, nodding. “I thank you in advance for your service.” He was always more likely to exaggerate than not, a habit of spending so much time around children and trying to make them feel understood. Chandler was lucky that it only helped him come off as good-natured to adults rather than simply an idiot. 

“You work too much,” he told her. He worked a lot, too, but he didn’t like to come in on his days off unless there was an emergency. Time with his kids was precious, and he didn’t want them to feel the absence of both parents. “What would you do on your day off if there wasn’t a maze to go through while you were drunk or a reason to go into work, hm?”

Lena looked at Chandler incredulously, and rolled her eyes at him speech. “You go around, you know.. like one by one so you get to pet all of them, that’s the idea.” She told him as if it were obvious. She looked over at Chandler’s daughter, who seemed to be having the time of her life, and she chuckled at the mess she managed to get on her at the same time. It was an adorable scene, really. “Oh, God no it’s not the best part, I’ve just never been able to enjoy the petting zoo at any festival because I’ve always been working.” She told him, before grinning. “So I figured I’d do it first, get it out of the way, then move onto the fun things like the maze, and alcohol. So it’s a good thing we have the same thoughts.”

“What if more than one comes up to me, Lena?” Chandler looked back at his kids— two pigs were next to Rafe now, at the other end of the cage with his grandmother, and another goat had joined Reese. “Clearly my bloodline doesn’t understand what ‘one goat’ means.” 

He didn’t keep track of who went to events like this, (though he had been thinking a lot today about how he hadn’t seen Hazel yet), but Lena did work a lot. “You should talk to one of your bosses, I don’t know who any of them are, about a more flexible schedule so that you don’t miss the chance to get drunk in the maze every year. I did that once, it was messy.”