69. The Dinner

A/N: I did a lot of research for this chapter and it was actually kinda fun! Beware! LOTS of foreshadowing in this chapter.

Forgiveness is a powerful thing, Meredith. Not only to make the other person feel good, but to heal you.

-Richard Webber

"I got my suit ready and good to go."

Emily winced as she pulled her strapless red dress up to her pits. Mark came up behind her in the mirror, zipping the back before gathering a fistful of her curls in one hand and kissing her neck.

"That's the thing, Mark," she began, turning around. His eyebrows furrowed together and she smiled softly at him. Cupping his cheek, she kissed his mouth chastely before heading out to grab her cream colored coat. Pulling it on and grabbing her bag, she headed over to where Everett was playing on the carpeted area in front of the couch. Upon seeing his mother, the child rolled onto his back, reaching to the ceiling.

Picking him up with a grimace, she settled him in his arms easily before peppering his face with kisses. "Hey, baby," she whispered. The baby wrinkled his nose, smacking his mouth with a palm and she laughed to herself, bringing him over to where his dad was still looking at her suspiciously. "I don't want you to go."

"What?"

"This is my family. Not yours. And while I love how you support me, this is something I think I have to do alone. With Noah."

"Em-"

"I'll be okay." Emily deposited her son in his arms. "He's hungry." Their son was still slapping at his mouth, sign language Emily and Mark had taught him a few weeks ago. It had made communication easier on their minds. Her husband was in a mood, and Emily already knew he was going to be like that for the rest of the night - an hour at least. It was common these days, for him to be pissed off for no reason. Emily knew it was his dad, but she didn't know if she was willing to talk right now. Especially with this dinner coming up. The mere event had been clouding her thoughts for a week. "Mark, don't be mad-"

"I'm not mad." Liar. Emily narrowed her eyes as Mark turned away. He set their son in a high chair, taking out a bowl to start dinner. "Go to your dinner." When she didn't move, he looked up and the hard glint in his eyes softened. "Go."

Her smile grew minisculely as she slipped her feet into heels and grabbed her keys. "I'll see you in a bit."

.

Getting out of Noah's car, Emily looked around. The Pink Door was Seattle's top restaurant - Italian, live music, entertainment like trapeze artists and tarot card readers, warm candle lighting. It was a restaurant Emily always wanted to go to since her intern year but never had the time or money to. And now she was really here.

And she hated it.

The valet gave Noah a ticket and her brother walked up to her, offering a smile. When she walked slower than usual, he frowned. She tentatively put her foot down and let out a sigh when it didn't feel like it'd snap.

"You alright?"

"Just sore," she lied. He smirked and Emily rolled her eyes. "Shut up. It's not the sex."

"Sure it isn't. Let's just go," he said just as the valet drove off with his car. Holding out an arm, her brother winked and she chuckled to herself, breath misting in the cold air as she looped her arm in his.

Walking in, they were greeted by the hostess before heading to the table they were assigned. Andrew and Carina were already there as Noah pulled Emily's chair out for her. Sitting down, the Moore siblings were handed menus.

"Where's your parents?" She heard Noah ask as her eyes raked down the menu. Italian names, all of which she knew how to read still. Somehow. Deciding on something simple, she set down her menu as she spotted a woman in the crowd. A tarot card reader was moving from table to table slowly, reading each person's cards and explaining their meaning. Smiling to herself, she watched as a waiter poured wine into her waiting glass.

"Oh." The word came out unbidden and Carina smiled where she sat across from her. "Did you order?" she asked in Italian before giving it a testing sip. The woman's smile grew upon hearing her mother tongue and Emily offered a half-smile in return.

"Yes," she replied in the same. Noah and Andrew looked up before setting their eyes back on the menu. "Good choice, no?"

"It is," she admitted and Carina chuckled.

"Mom and Dad should be here by now, and look - there they are." Andrew and Carina stood up again and only then did Emily notice that Carina's hands were shaking as they pressed against the table. Leonardo helped Sofia into her chair and Carina kissed her step-mom's cheek as Andrew embraced his father.

Noah and Emily looked at each other awkwardly, averting their eyes to the menu in sync.

"Thank you for coming," Sofia began in English and her old children looked up flatly. "I know you didn't want to come."

"We're glad that you're better." Noah took a sip of his wine and Sofia's lips pulled back into a forced smile upon hearing her son speak the language she had taught him since he was born. Emily was sitting just to the right of her mother who was at the head of the table while Leonardo sat across at the other head. The children sat along the length and a waiter came by once again to hand the new arrivals a menu.

"Dr. Shepherd really is the best there is." Leonardo diverted their attention to him and Emily nodded. "Thank you for recommending him to us."

"No problem." Noah set down his menu again and a waiter came by to take their orders.

"Have you all decided?"

Noah held up a finger. "A few more minutes."

"Of course."

Sofia looked around the table and frowned. Emily watched her face and then realized what, or who she was looking for.

"Something wrong?" she asked and Sofia's eyes flew to hers. She seemed half-spooked and Noah looked up. "Mark isn't coming. That's who you thought was coming right? Mark Sloan?"

"Uh, yes. Is there any reason why?" She was fishing for answers and Emily wondered if she should. There was no reason for Sofia to care, no reason for Emily to care. Noah's hand on her knee made her turn to look at him.

"Probably in surgery," Andrew proposed, cutting in. "He's an attending - must happen all the time." The brunette surgeon smiled at her half-brother. Saved from answering, she took a sip of her wine.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course."

"Are you two close?"

"Why do you care?" Emily muttered and the whole table froze. "Because it isn't Atticus? Well, surprise. Guess what? My life's changed."

"Yes, but that's precisely why I'm asking. I'm curious."

"You weren't exactly keen to let us know you were alive before." With a final, flat smile, Emily sighed and waved down a waiter. "You guys ready to order? I'm starving."

Noah sat up straighter, tugging nervously at his dress shirt. Carina's fingers tapped repeatedly against the table as Andrew cleared his throat for the third time this evening.

"I'm famished."

"So hungry."

"I would love to order."

The four children looked at each other, trying to come to some sort of agreement. For now, it appeared there was an alliance and Emily wondered if this night was a mistake.

.

Dinner was quiet. It was mostly Andrew and Carina talking to their parents while Noah and Emily sat there, eating their pasta while others spoke. The two were more than aware that they were given ample opportunity to join the conversation but they refrained from it at all. As their meals dwindled into the last bites, Noah finally shook his head with a bitter smile.

"Something wrong?" Emily asked and the conversation halted. Noah looked up, fire in his eyes as everyone stared at him.

"How can I just sit here and not ask questions?" he asked rhetorically. "I want answers. You know how easy it'd be to just send a message. Or to tell us that you're the reason. That you cheated first instead of us hating Dad. You do not know the nights I spent, wishing he were dead instead of sleeping. You do not know how many calls I missed from him until he gave up trying and now I have no idea where he is. I couldn't pick up even though I missed him more than I needed to breath because he hurt the one person I loved more than him."

"Dr. Moore-" Carina began but Noah cut her off easily with a sharp glare.

"No. No, do not cover for her. She needs to give me the answers I deserve. I didn't have to refer you to Dr. Shepherd, or convince Emily to transfer you to Seattle while her husband's father was there."

"Noah-" Her blood ran cold. The words came fast, harsh, blunt. Emily wondered how long this had been bottled up. Days, weeks, years? The mere thought had Emily nauseous. Setting down her fork with a clatter, she swallowed bile.

"I didn't have to stay. I have two kids to take care of and a wife. I have a peds ward to run. But I came here, because I still love you. Because you were my mom." Noah's face absolutely crumbled to dust as his voice grew thick. When he closed his eyes, stray tears escaped and he took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice quavered though he tried his hardest to avoid it. "And I sit here now, listening to you make jokes and conversation with your new son and daughter, and I wonder what kind of answers you can give."

"I don't have any," their mother whispered and Noah's fist slammed against the table.

"Well, you should!" Poisonous silence filled the air and Emily thought she would choke. "You should." Emily's wet eyes drifted from Noah to Sofia DeLuca. Her head pulsed with the live, cheery music that should not fit such an occasion and her lips trembled.

"Any of you care for a tarot reading?" The tarot reader who had been drifting from table to table had finally approached them, snapping the silence in two. Noah sniffed and wiped at his face as Emily turned to look at the woman. She was older, long wrinkles lining her face where she had smiled for decades.

"Yes." The word came out strangely from Emily's mouth as she raised her hand slightly. "Yes, I would."

"What is your name?" she asked as she shuffled.

"Emily Moore."

"What do you do?" the tarot reader continued. Emily looked to Andrew and Carina who shrugged and tilted a head respectively. She was alone in this.

"I'm a surgeon."

"And, what is your question?"

"I—" Stricken, she looked to Noah. He shrugged, hand on her shoulder and she turned back to the woman— "I don't know."

"That is bound to happen. Sometimes, we do not know the questions we need answered. Pick a card but do not look," the woman said as she shuffled the cards and fanned them out in her hands. Emily reached for the left side but felt a twinge in her soul. Go middle, it said. Retracting her hand, she bit her lip and reached forward to the center of the fan. Picking it up, she set the card flat against the table.

The woman shuffled her deck before setting it on the table. "Split it however you wish." Emily took three-quarters of the deck off for the woman who then placed the remaining quarter on top and continued shuffling. Then, she put three cards below the one she had chosen and set her cards aside.

"These cards represent your past, present, and your future," the woman began. Flipping the first card revealed a man in red walking away, while eight cups stood in the foreground. The sun appeared to be sleeping, cradled by the moon. The tarot reader hummed thoughtfully to herself as she flipped the next card. A man carrying long wooden rods, longer than he. They reminded Emily of sticks she used to pretend were wands when she was little. The last card flipped and she was met with the image upside down.

The tarot reader's eyes flitted to Emily's for a moment as if seeing her in a new light and the brunette wondered what it meant. The image depicted, of a man stabbed in the back by ten swords, dead as he lay near the river, probably meant no good. It definitely meant no good.

At last, the tarot reader reached for the card above these three, for the card Emily had picked. A pulse of excitement surprised her as she tapped her fingers against the table. What had she picked?

"Strength, ah, I see now." The card was of a woman in a white dress, petting a lion. Her hair was woven with flowers, flowers that also wreathed around her waist and down to the lion's mane. The tarot reader's fingers flitted to the first card. "Eight of cups. Ten of Wands. Ten of Swords."

"What does that mean?"

"You were one to walk away, Emily. When things got hard, you would run, for you did not want to wait. You did not place trust in others easily, for if you did, they would walk away with parts of you. It affects you to this day, I see. Perhaps a lover, perhaps a family member, they have caused great emotional turmoil within you. Perhaps both." Her fingers dragged over the man in a red cape, a sad smile to her lips. "You do not wish to confront it - you'd rather have release by avoidance. However, these problems are very real, and will continue to affect your life until you acknowledge their existence and deal with them.

"As you are now, you bare extra responsibility. You believe that no one should be left behind because of your past. You take on more work than you need to, but you do not know it. Perhaps you do not care. Do you feel tired? Exhausted?" Emily's eyes were pulled inexplicably to the man carrying the wands.

"It comes with being a surgeon."

"But is it something curable by sleep or is it something caused by burden?"

"It's a mix," Emily admitted and the tarot reader's smile had her continuing on. "But I know it'll be gone soon. Nothing lasts forever."

"Good. You understand you will reap rewards later. You do not seek instant gratification, although sometimes, you risk yourself out of hope that someone will stay. It is something you have learned from your past. You burden yourself in hopes of making yourself worthy. You would rather burn yourself out rather than share the load. Are you the boss where you work?"

Emily's mouth stopped working and it opened and closed repeatedly. Blinking, she tried to gather words to string into a sentence when Noah piped up.

"She's Chief Resident at the hospital."

"You must delegate those tasks. You are nearly at the end of a road. It would be a shame if your tire was to blowout before you reach the end. Should you crash, your pain will be insurmountable but if you do not resist, the end will come softer." The man stabbed in the back by ten swords, upside down to her eyes, seemed to mock her with its blood and implications.

"Are you saying I'm going to die?" Emily asked quietly and the tarot reader chuckled.

"No. Nothing I say is set in stone. Your card is reversed. You will be released from the pain you are in in the near future. You will see the light. Dr. Moore, you must welcome this end. It will be hard, it will test you, but you must understand that all happens with a reason. You are Strength," the woman murmured, tapping the woman with the lion, "but not outer strength. The inner strength you demonstrate can bring great leaders to their knees. You are persistent, for you know that patience is the greatest virtue, which with your compassion, makes you a great doctor."

"Thank you-"

"But there are moments when you do not have the strength within you - you must reprieve yourself. Yet, you will not let down your walls." The hairs on the back of Emily's neck rose and she stared down at that card. "Not even with the man you love. You turn to someone else - you think yourself a burden. You think if you tell him, he will leave you. You do not like to share pain as you think he has suffered enough. You are a loyal friend, Emily Moore, but you are not the most truthful of lovers."

"Wait. Where do you go off, insinuating that I'm a liar?" she barked and the tarot reader simply smiled. Emily's hand rolled into a fist atop Strength. Her mind flashed back to years ago, the building collapse, and the stillness of Tom's chest.

"Such anger, guilt, sadness. You must deal with these emotions as you see fit, but channel them wisely. You must live your life with forgiveness. If not for those who have harmed you, then for yourself. That is where true strength lies. Raw emotion is a powerful, powerful instinct, but tame them, as this woman has tamed the king of the jungle, and you will see with a clear mind."

A dry flower bloomed in Emily's mouth as the old woman began to gather the four cards. First, she gathered the three past, present, and future cards before reaching for the last one.

"Wait - may I keep this one?" the brunette surgeon asked and the tarot reader smiled with a nod. "Thank you. For giving me a reading."

"Of course, dear." And off she went, to another table and Emily held Strength in her hand, eyes on the lion as she took a glass of wine and drained it whole.

.

Getting out of the car again, she felt the world shift underneath her feet. Carina smiled, taking her hands and steadying herself. The woman had volunteered to drive Emily home with a promise that she'd be safe and now here they were. Leaning against Carina's rental, Emily sighed and flicked a strand of hair out of her face. Crossing her arms in front of her, her bag knocking into her legs, she looked up at her step-sister.

"Strength tells me more about you that my mother ever did," the woman said in Italian. So it was going to be this kind of conversation.

"Yeah? And what did she tell you about me?"

"I knew she was married before," Carina admitted, coming down to lean in beside her. "She said you were around my age. You were really smart. You knew how to survive on your own." Emily scoffed and Carina smiled in the winter night. "It's true. I thought you were so put together and I thought… you were this badass woman. It's so weird to finally meet you."

"I didn't even know you existed." Emily's eyes drifted up to the night sky. "So fifth year?" Carina nodded and Emily turned to look at her. "What are you specializing in?"

"Obstetrics and gynecology. You?"

"Ortho."

"Suits your Strength." Laughing to herself, Emily took out the card from her bag. Her finger ran over the glossy image.

"You need to go back to Italy. You're missing your fifth-year," Emily said and Carina smiled, breathing in the cold air. It must be different than what it was like in Italy.

"I am. I'm going back tomorrow." Carina tapped her foot, absently grating against the road. "Is Mark Sloan waiting for you up there?"

"Fishing for your mom?"

"Andrea told me you were married."

"I am. I have a son." Emily's hand fingered the necklace around her neck where her marriage ring was. "What else did he tell you?"

"Is there a chance you will ever forgive your mother?" Emily looked at her, throat cinching. Your mother. She pondered over the choice of words as Carina tilted her head. Though her hair was up, exposing her graceful neck, strands of curls still fell into her eyes and the woman pushed them behind an ear.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

"Yeah? And not a spy?" Her slight smile aimed at the ground, Carina shifted from one foot to the other. Emily shrugged. "I don't know. The tarot reader said I have to resolve my emotional turmoil. I don't know how I can forgive her. But I know I can."

"Then do it."

"It isn't that simple when I don't want to," she said and Carina curled her fingers over her keys. "Thank you for driving me back."

"Any time." Emily pushed off the car, walking towards the apartment building. With a final glance and wave over her shoulder, she went in.

.

Unlocking the door, Emily finally let her shoulders sag. Putting her bag on the island in the kitchen, she did a quick survey to see what the night was like. Dishes were in the washer or clean, no mess. So it must've been a good night. The TV was still on so Emily turned it off with one hand while leaning against the couch with the other. Throwing the remote onto the cushions, she pulled off her heels and headed for the bedroom.

The door was slightly open and no light was on. Mark must have been asleep already so she headed for her son's room instead.

There he was, sleeping with his dolphin squished in his arms. Running a hand over his soft hair, she leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"Night, bug," she whispered and Everett reached out blindly in his sleep, landing on Emily's nose. Kissing his tiny hand, she let it fall back and he rolled away, breathing so softly it wouldn't disturb a feather. Emily's heart raced, warmth filling her up as she walked back out as quietly as she could and into her own bedroom.

Mark was there, sleeping on his back and she smiled to herself. Shedding her jacket, she slid onto the bed and rested her whole body on him. His heat sliced through the frost on her skin and his beating heart brought waves of sleepiness into her eyes. Her hip stopped aching and she sighed, snuggling up against him.

"Em?"

"Mhm?" His hands came to her arms and she looked up. "Mark, are you mad at me?"

"No," he murmured and she resumed her position with her cheek against his chest. "How was dinner?"

"I am Strength." She leaned down to touch noses with him and his eyes closed. This moment of peace calmed her tumultuous heart and she sighed at the light pulling her heart back up from where it nearly sank to the pits of her stomach. So she really had to do it, huh. "I love you." Pulling herself up, she headed for the bathroom. "And it was okay." Mark's eyes opened and followed her, kinda confused but allowing it all the same as he flopped over and fell back asleep.

A/N: Part 2 out of 2 complete! Happy New Year, my friends! As always, I'm so grateful for every single one of my readers and I hope 2019 is full of joy and success!

Next: The Sloans finally find a house.