Snapshots of a life, lived

Feelings

NOTE: Spoilers for the 3/1 9 p.m. episode.

I know I'm not the only one who felt a little heartbroken when Autumn said, "You don't want me around the office anymore?"

Winter could tell the moment Autumn walked in that she was in a bad mood. That was nothing new — the third trimester had been rough hard on her. Her ankles were swollen, her feet hurt, her back hurt, her hormones were going wild. She was not happy. That wasn't really a surprise.

What was a surprise was the tears Winter saw in her eyes as he approached her.

"My love?"

"No," she said flatly, pushing past him and going up the stairs. Even Caddie knew to give her space; he simply hovered around Winter's feet and meowed. Winter heard the water turn on; Autumn must have been running herself a bath.

"All right, Caddie. Let's get you something to eat."

Winter fed Caddie and made some tea, listening to Autumn shuffle around upstairs. The water turned off eventually; he waited until he was sure she was settled in before taking her tea up to her. She'd left the bathroom door open; an invitation for him to come in, if he wanted. The smell of vanilla hung heavily in the air before he even walked in.

"Autumn?" he called, peeking into the bathroom. His heart broke when he saw curled up in the water, face pressed into her knees as she cried. "Oh my love..."

He set the tea aside and stripped so he could climb into the tub behind her — the water was almost boiling hot, but he did his best not to pull back or hesitate — and pull her into a hug. Autumn relaxed into him slightly, but refused to lift her head. Winter didn't push; he held her and kissed each freckle on her shoulder until she finally laughed a little.

"Bad day?" he asked.

"Everyone hates me," Autumn whispered into her knees.

"I am sure that's not true," Winter protested, frowning.

"Marjorie tried to convince me to go on mat leave halfway through the day and was apparently so sure she would manage it that she told Charlotte to buy donuts so the staff could celebrate me being gone." Winter bit down the anger that threatened to well up. Autumn didn't need his anger. "Everyone is so busy being afraid of me and trying to push me out that it doesn't seem to matter what I want."

"To be fair... it might help if you let Marjorie take your bat." Autumn finally raised her head to look over her shoulder and glare at Winter. "But that's not the point. My love are you even happy being in the office?"

"Yes." The answer surprised Winter somewhat. "I enjoy my job and it feels like it's the only thing I have any control over at this point. I'm tired of people trying to push me out."

"Have you tried telling Marjorie that?"

"I shouldn't have to explain myself just to make everyone else happy."

"No," Winter agreed. "You shouldn't. I'm sorry."

Autumn sighed, finally unraveling a little and stretching her legs out. "But if it really would make them all happier... maybe I should just go."

"Take tomorrow off," Winter said, shifting so he could begin massaging her shoulders. "Stay home, cuddle with Caddie, relax, and see how you feel after. You know as well as I do that you shouldn't make decisions right now."

"Hmm," Autumn's hum turned into a soft groan as Winter found a particularly tight knot and started working on it. "That's probably a good idea."

"I'm known to have those sometimes."

* * * * *

"Marjorie."

Marjorie looked up from her computer to see Winter standing in the office door, arms crossed. He did not look happy. "Hello, Winter. If this is about the shifts next week—"

"I'm not thrilled about being on early every single day, no," Winter said. "But that's not what this is about."

"Ah, okay. Then what can I do for you?"

"You can stop trying to get Autumn out of the office before her scheduled mat leave."

Marjorie winced. Winter folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response. "I just thought maybe she would be more comfortable—"

"No, you thought you would be more comfortable if she was gone." Marjorie winced. "And I get it. She's hard to be around. She is well aware of that though without her self-proclaimed best friend and sister constantly trying to get rid of her."

"I'm not trying to get rid of her," Marjorie protested. "But do you really think she's happier being in the office on her feet all day rather than at home?"

"Probably not," Winter admitted. "But she's happier making her own choices rather than being forced into it because no one can stand to be around her."

"I have never said I can't stand to be around her."

"I'm sure you haven't, but do you really think that's not what she's taking away from this?" Winter asked. "You could have the purest, most non-self serving intentions possible, but your intentions don't matter if Autumn walks away from the interaction thinking you just don't want her around."

"Okay," Marjorie relented. "I see your point. I'm sorry."

"Don't tell me, tell Autumn. And stop trying to make her leave early. And for the love of god don't make it sound like you're going to celebrate when she's gone. Can you imagine how that sounded to her? She has feelings believe it or not."

Marjorie's expression fell. "That wasn't — oh god." She covered her face for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Okay. Apologize to Autumn. How many sausage rolls do you think this will take?"

"Some things can't be fixed with sausage rolls, Marjorie," Winter said. Marjorie grimaced.

"That sounded so weirdly ominous. What do I do, then?"

"Figure it out for yourself. I'm not giving you all the answers."

Winter left to start his shift. Marjorie looked back at her computer, sighing heavily. She knew she had messed up yesterday, but it had never occurred to her that Autumn would take it so personally. Why wouldn't she, though? Anyone else would. And Autumn was human, even if she liked to pretend she was above all that.

It really was going to take more than sausage rolls to fix this situation.