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The Reminiscing Process	By : DarkKitty27 Category: S through Z > Secret Window Views: 2832 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Secret Window, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Miss Me?
- 2-Bedtime
- 3-Tradition
- 4-Alone
- 5-Bliss
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter 4: Alone

When Lizzy awoke the next morning, Mort was already downstairs locked in his office. He typed, angry at himself. 'Mort, you idiot. She's your best friend's daughter. Mort, you asshole, taking advantage of her like that. She doesn't want you....Maybe she does..' He thought back to last night when she had allowed him to kiss her...throw her against the wall. She had never once protested. "Maybe she was too scared," he typed, "maybe she hates you now and doesn't want to tell you to your face. Or maybe it's just you being a chicken shit. Or maybe it's not..."

Mort heard a soft knock at his office door, "Mort?" Lizzy muffled through the door, "I'm going into town....I made you breakfast, if you want, it's staying warm in the oven....I'll be back around 2:00...okay??"

Mort cleared his throat, "Yea...okay."

Lizzy walked out the door, almost shivering from the cold, detached tone of his voice...'He must hate me' she thought, holding back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. She hugged her arms around herself and walked to her car.

When Mort was sure she had gone, he unlocked his door and looked around the small house. 'You are such a chicken shit', he told himself, 'you're avoiding her! How childish!'

"I'm not childish," Mort said, opening the oven to find a plate covered in tin foil. He opened it up and dug at the scrambled eggs with a fork. 'She might think you don't like her, what if she thinks you hate her?!'

"I DON'T!" Mort screamed at the voice in his head, "I like her, a lot....but she can't feel the same way about me. I'm old and....I'm practically her uncle."

'Yes only practically.'

"I don't know, I can't just ask her about this...it's seems so.."

'Dirty? Strange? Unusual? Weird?'

"Weird, it seems too weird. And uncomfortable."

'You know, you will have to talk about this some time, letting these things fester is unhealthy.'

"I know....I know that," Mort chewed on a slice of toast.

'When? I want to know when.'

"Tomorrow, I guess, tomorrow. I need time to figure things out."

'I thought that was what we were doing?'

Mort got angry throwing his fork to the floor. "Would you just leave me alone?!"

'You are alone...'

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Lizzy returned that afternoon, Mort locked himself up in his office. He avoided her the entire rest of the day until nightfall. Around 9:00 he headed upstairs for a quick shower, and, newly dressed in a clean black undershirt and fresh boxers, he went back to his office to read.

At 11:00, he grew sleepy and decided to head upstairs. As he approached his room, he saw the bathroom door at the end of the hall open. He could smell the steam and he blinked as he saw Lizzy step out clad in only her small robe. His dream flashed before his eyes and he rushed into his room quickly, unintentionally slamming the door. Lizzy heard the door and turned quickly enough to catch a a glimse of his feet. She tied her hair in a loose knot and sighed. She would have to talk to him in the morning.

Lizzy woke with a start and looked at the bright red letters on the clock on the bedside table. 2:04AM. She'd only been asleep for about 3 hours and she'd had a nightmare. She dreamed that Mort was standing in a long corridor, calling out to her, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't reach him. She rubbed her arms at her sides, the cold making them pimple with gooseflesh. She pulled on a pair of deep red pajama pants and tip toed over to her door. She opened it slowly and looked out into the hall. The house was deathly silent. She felt the sudden need to be with Mort, to have him hold her and reassure her like he had done so many times before...when she was little. But things were different now. She padded down to Mort's door and tapped softly with a loose fist. "Mort," she whispered. "Mort, are you awake??"

Silence. She turned the knob, slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside.

The room would have been pitch black if not for the glassy blue stream of the moonlight that spilled through the window. Lizzy could see the outline of Mort's body, loose under a dark blue quilt. From her stance in the doorway she could see his wild hair poking up in tufts from where his head lay on his pillow. In the silence she could hear his steady shallow breathing, in and out, in and out. Lizzy stepped forward, the wooden floor creaking slightly as she walked. She winced and stopped to listen for any sounds of his wake.

There were none, so she continued until she reached the edge of his bed. His face was turned away from her, the covers pulled all the way up to his neck. "Mort," she whispered softly. "Mort?" No response. Lizzy tentatively reached forward to shake him. An adrenaline pumped through her--she feared he might wake with a start and scare her out of her wits. She found his shoulder and gently shook him. "Mort, wake up," she whispered a little louder. She heard his breathing hitch and his body shifted. "mmph...what?"

"Mort, it's me."

Mort turned over, squinting from the moonlight and adjusting the sleepy blur in his eyes. "Lizzy?" he sounded confused, then it seemed as if his memory filtered back to him. "Lizzy," his voice was clearer now and less groggy as he looked at her tiny form. "What are you doing up? go back to bed."

"I...I had a bad dream, I needed to see if you were okay," she said looking at him with cautious eyes.

"I'm fine Liz, you can go back to bed now." His voice sounded sharp and she was a bit hurt that he was trying to keep her away. Her lip quivered and she felt tears well up across her eye lids. "I can't sleep...I..can I sleep with you?" Her voice sounded sad and choked, and Mort tried not to feel sorry for her. He knew this wasn't a good idea. "Lizzy," he sighed and propped himself up on an elbow. "I don't think that's such a good-"

"Please?"

Her voice was distraught and there was a whimper in the back of her throat. He couldn't turn her away. Mort sighed, and shifted far over to the right side of his bed. Lizzy pulled back the covers and slipped in his bed, the mattress squeaking slightly under their combined weight. Lizzy laid on her back and blinked up at the ceiling. She turned her head to look at Mort, who lay on his side, his back facing her. "Goodnight Mort."

"Goodnight," he mumbled back. She grew tired of receiving the cold shoulder from him, especially now when she needed him most. She turned on her side, slid over and pressed herself against Mort's back. She curled her body around his, wrapped her right arm over his waist and rested her cheek against his side. She felt his body go rigid. "Liz," his voice was like a warning as he turned onto his back. Lizzy said nothing, she just curled against him, rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arm around him. She nuzzled her head against his chest, breathing in then out in contentment. Mort sighed, seemingly frustrated, and his body struggled to relax beneath her. His muscles gave, Lizzy pulled closer to his warmth and together, they drifted off to sleep.
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The Reminiscing Process