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Whitney de Winter [Youngest Daughter] ([info]travelstheworld) wrote in [info]laterally,
@ 2009-05-06 20:15:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:! origins, [3] phillip cordon, [3] whitney de winter, | 001 |, | 002 |

[three] backstory – the big news; Philadelphia; WdW, PC
WHO: Whitney de Winter [YOUNGEST DAUGHTER], Phillip Cordon [PUSS IN BOOTS]
WHERE: Phillip's house, Philadelphia
WHEN: Friday, June 10, 2005; evening [backstory!]
WHAT: Whitney has some life-changing news to impart.
RATING: PG-13 at least.
STATUS: thread; in-progress


Even now, nearly a week after being told what was going on with her, Whitney still wanted to deny it and, in the face of being unable to do so, still wanted to avoid telling Phillip as long as possible in order to pretend it wasn't happening. This wasn't in her plans for her life – granted, very little of her life was planned one moment to the next, even now that she had started to ground herself with the friendships and 'familial' relationships formed among the Incarnates. Still, there were certain consistent factors in the inconsistency and this? Was not any part of that.

Exiting the car, her own tonight and not a driver, she walked to the front door of Phillip's house outside the city, took a breath and knocked. Other than necessary business transactions, she and Phillip hadn't spoken since the last time they'd broken it off due to the same reasons as always, as far as Whitney could see it – they just didn't mesh.

When he opened the door, she offered him a weak smile. "Hi."

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-06 08:25 pm UTC (link)
Phillip smirked when he heard Whitney's knock. He was expecting to wait another month or two before Whit agreed to see him or speak to him about something non business related, so this was a nice surprise.

She just can't stay away. He thought smugly.

Confident, wide strides led him to the door. He opened it, practically owning the doorframe with a cat-that-caught-the-canary look on his face. She was really here, back in the country, and seemingly unarmed, so that was already a nice start.

"Come on, Whitney." He said, finally stepping back. He was sure she would appreciate the fine dinner he had waiting for her. He'd picked up the meal at a fine restaurant, and had added candles and wine as well to reward her for coming to make up a month sooner than expected.

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-06 08:36 pm UTC (link)
That weak smile of Whit's morphed quickly into an expression of discontent at Phillip's whole posture and look. "Don't look so smug, for God's sake. I'm not here for whatever you're thinking," she snapped moodily, moving inside. This – whatever it had always been between them, attraction that refused to die for good or just simply insanity – had always had a pattern to it and she knew what he was thinking, that somehow she was beginning to come around to his side of things.

Setting her bag on an end table, she folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to sit down. Her preoccupation was so great by this point that she hadn't even turned in the direction of Phillip's dining room table. A low merow greeted her as Vixen leap up on the back of a chair, eyed Whit for a moment in a way that she could only label as a reprimand, then butted her head against Whit's abdomen.

The way Whit jumped away from the touch would have almost been comical under other circumstances.

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-06 09:09 pm UTC (link)
Phillip didn't want to sit down, however. The dinner was still warm in the oven, so he wasn't worried about that. Instead he went to the kitchen, pouring them each a glass of one of her favorite wines.

"She won't bite." Phillip said as he returned, smug amusement clear despite her earlier chastisement. She might not THINK she was coming here do 'whatever he was thinking,' but their little makeup sessions always ended that way. If she wanted to be in denial for a little longer...well who was that hurting? He set his wine glass on a table near his favorite chair, then went to Whitney. "She's not a dog, Whitney, she likes you, and she's trying to show you."

As though to compensate for Whitney's less than cordial welcome, Phillip leaned in to scratch behind Vixen's ears. "You're a pretty lady, aren't you, Vixen?" Even as he was making up to the cat with one hand, his other was offering Whitney the wine, to try to make up to her too.

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-06 09:58 pm UTC (link)
Already feeling a fool for the way she'd shied from the innocent feline touch, Whit only bristled more at Phillip's remarks. "Don't patronize me, I know she does," she said, reigning in a dirty look. She didn't want to fight with him right now, but the more nervous she got, the more fragile her hold on her emotions became.

The temptation of the glass offered to her didn't help. "No wine," she said, but the look of frustrated longing she gave the glass clashed with the rejection of the wine. Did she want a drink? Very, very much? Could she bring herself to down it and more? No, she couldn't, because any time she thought about it, she heard that rapid electronic cadence of the heart monitor.

"Is there bottled water in the refrigerator?" she asked, ingrained manners only barely stopping her from looking for herself.

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-07 12:08 am UTC (link)
"No wine?" Phillip asked, a somewhat surprised look on his face. She normally liked wine and a nice dinners....so what was the deal with bottled water now? Was she just wanting to grab something quick so that she could escape with minimal effort? Well he wasn't going to let her.

"But it's your favorite." He said coaxingly. "There's more in the kitchen too, with a real supper from Camille's. Sit down, take off your shoes...stay a while." Phillip was fairly certain that no matter what they did, she would end up staying anyway, so she might as well plan on it now so that they could spend the evening together and enjoy it instead of arguing back and forth. After all, she was here now, their fighting phase was over.

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-07 02:19 am UTC (link)
Shooting the glass one last desperate look, Whit turned away from it. "No, Phillip, water," she said, then marched into the kitchen to get it herself.

One of this things she had gone to see the doctor about was the nausea that had seemed to come and go, the timing of it not something that she had even considered as anything other than some strange illness. It was a typical symptom, the doctor had assured, and didn't keep to a specific timetable and often didn't conform to the stereotype, which had been far less reassuring.

When the nausea was there, it was typically in the evenings, responsible for putting her off a number of wonderful meals that she normally loved. And she loved Camille's. He knew she did and because he was so damned good at remembering the things she liked, she was nearly certain she caught the scent of one of her favorite entrees.

The reason she was only nearly certain was that she was forced to retreat from the kitchen back to where the air wasn't provoking her gag reflex. With a hand that trembled just slightly, she dropped into a chair and put her head between her knees until the twisting in her stomach passed.

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-07 04:47 pm UTC (link)
Phillip shrugged, taking a long drink out of the glass of wine she had refused. Maybe she was on a diet? He knew a lot of the "Bimbettes" that he spent time with dieted, but he'd never really pegged Whitney for being the kind of girl who put stock in that sort of thing. Oh well, if she wanted to guzzle water, there was more wine for him...and one good thing he could say for Whitney, her taste in food and drink was exceptional. As much as he might tease her about traveling all of the time, Phillip suspected that part of her allure was that worldly flair, the way she had seen so much. Flaw or not, Phillip found it fascinating...not that he'd ever tell her that. He suspected that if he ever told her just how interesting she was, how much he liked being drawn to her, he'd ruin their game of fighting and angry sex...and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Whitney came back from the kitchen looking much worse for the wear. She had her head between her knees and she looked like she was shaking. "Hey? What's wrong?" Phillip put his hand on her back, his brow furrowed in concern.

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-07 05:47 pm UTC (link)
This was not how Whit had planned this to go. She had intended to come here, tell him the truth and then absolve him of all responsibility while ignoring the likelihood that the most responsible, dependable person she had ever met would likely take the absolution of responsibility about as well as most would take the prompting to jump off a steep cliff. Still, this wasn't his problem and she wasn't going to see him make it into his out of some inborn sense of responsibility for everything.

"Nauseated," she said between gritted teeth, which was the honest truth about what was happening to her. When it had passed, she sat up again and then leaned back into the welcoming plushness of the chair, eyes closed. "Water now, please?" she asked weakly.

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-07 07:44 pm UTC (link)
Phillip looked confused for a moment after Whitney admitted she was nauseated, but he didn't hesitate to go get the water she asked for. He grabbed a bottle out of the ice box, then rushed back to Whitney, the worried look still on his face. He was less worried now that she was too caught up in the 'fight' portion of their relationship, and more worried about her. He didn't think it was anything serious--after all, as much as they fought, and as bad as things had ended between them, why would she come to him?-- but he did think it was bad enough that she could use some help.

"Why don't you go lay down?" he asked, any trace of too smug charm gone now and geniune concern in its place. "You can have my bed all to yourself, and I'll throw out the chicken and make you some soup or something."

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-07 07:55 pm UTC (link)
Taking the water, Whit uncapped the bottle and took several slow swallows before draining a good portion of it. The nausea was one thing, but the dry mouth and thirst was quite another. But she couldn't focus too hard on those aspects, because doing so meant thinking about the source and then her stomach knotted itself for reasons entirely unrelated to physical change.

Setting the bottle next to her leg, she opened her eyes and looked at Phillip, briefly shaking her head at the offer of his bed. That was how this predicament had come about, after all.

"Phillip, I need you to sit down before I bail out of saying this," she said. "Because I'm not sick."

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-07 08:29 pm UTC (link)
Phillip tried to reach for the bottle when he thought she was drinking too much. He knew the water would help, but too much and it would make her stomach churn and the nausea turn into full out vomiting. Before he could touch the bottle, however, Whitney lowered it and told him to sit down. He shrugged going to sit, but his heart was pounding in the base of his chest. Why was he so nervous? Whitney wasn't sick, it was probably just food poisoning or nerves at seeing him again or something...but something felt off.

His heart was still pounding as he sat down, and it was clear by the nervous look on his face that something had changed. "Alright, Whit, I'm sitting, I'm not making advances at you....what more could you want? You can go ahead and tell me what's up now. Did the stocks fall? Are the overseas branches suffering or something? You can tell me..." Phillip was clearly nervous, because instead of his smooth, careful words, his voice was rambling on and on with the thoughts fading one into the other.

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-07 09:03 pm UTC (link)
You can tell me. No, no she couldn't, which was what was tripping Whit up entirely. She wanted this over with, spoken and settled so she could retreat and force herself to deal with this, but the words to take care of it were beyond her. What was she supposed to start with, 'do you remember that weekend in April'?

Running a hand across her face, she finally started to speak. "I started to feel sick in Brazil about three weeks ago. I thought it was fatigue or just a bug, but when I got to France a week ago-"

Getting up out of the chair, Whit started to pace, first just in front of where they were sitting, then wider, trying to work up to telling him, "-I ended up having to see a doctor because I nearly passed out in the hotel lobby and when I put that together with the nausea, I thought there was something wrong with me. He told me there wasn't."

She didn't know why she was telling him such inconsequential details when the ones that were important were "birth control and condoms failed". Pacing certainly didn't help her nausea, but it was the only thing burning the edge off her need to flee the room, his house, the city and the country. New Dehlia was as good as Philly, really.

For God's sake, just tell the man. It's four words. Three if you don't start the sentence with his name. Two if you use a contraction.

She finally looked up at him.

"I'm pregnant."

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-12 02:31 am UTC (link)
I'm pregnant.

Although a logical conclusion given how much sex figured into their relationship, it was the absolute last thing that Phillip had expected to hear coming out of Whitney's mouth. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, the news that she had caught some international bug or that the overseas food wasn't agreeing with her anymore...but that revelation certainly wasn't it.

Pregnant.

She was having a baby.

HIS baby.

Phillip's jaw fell open.

He was going to be a father.

It wasn't a direct conclusion, of course. There was a small, small chance that Whitney was going to follow the two word revelation with "but it's not yours" or something like that, but Phillip knew her better than that. This was his child.

"I--" He trailed off, his smooth, feline charm gone for the moment. He felt like a cat flailing in mid air, trying to find the right position that would allow him to land on his feet. Trying and failing to make himself say something right. "Wow."

He thought back to his parents, and their long, happy marriage. His child would never have that. He and Whitney both worked so much, fought more, and she was always going here, there and everywhere. How were you supposed to take the kid to the doctor regularly when you were moving around all the time? When you had international conference calls? Didn't kids need doctors? Regular feedings? Clean clothes and diapers and...

There was no way one person could do all of that alone, Phillip realized. Not without a nanny, and Phillip certainly didn't want his child to be raised by a nanny. He wanted the kid surrounded by people who loved him, not people who were paid to be there. Because one person could never do the job alone, and because Phillip thought even with two people living separate lives on different continents couldn't hold a chance of raising a child the right way--the way his parents raised him--his next words were less of a question than a hopeful response to the fact that he had yet to make a real response to her revelation.

"Will you marry me?"

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-12 02:40 am UTC (link)
So shocked was Whit by his reaction that her own response to his question was immediate and straight from a gut now twisted into ten more knots because of what he'd just asked.

"No. Absolutely not!"

The idea of tying herself to this man whose respectable, dependable, stuck-in-his-ways nature frustrated, annoyed and angered her more often that she appreciated his qualities... it was absurd. The thought of it only sent her further into flight mode, leaving her pacing off to a point as far away from him as she could get without actually leaving.

She supposed part of her should have expected this reaction, but she hadn't thought that far ahead.

"That's not why I'm here, Phillip," she finally said when she could speak without the tone of her voice fluctuating wildly. "You had a right to know, but I don't expect anything from you, at all. Not money, not involvement and certainly not marriage."

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-14 02:56 am UTC (link)
Phillip blinked. He was from a very traditional, military family, and marriage was just the thing that people did when they had a child...especially when the two people were as particularly inept at parenting as he and Whitney were sure to be. Besides, Phillip was no ego maniac, but he didn't think the prospect of marrying him was bleak enough to inspire a 'No, absolutely not!' reaction. He knew of more than one of his "Bimbettes," as she called them, who would gladly marry him, but he didn't want them.

Did he want Whitney? Well...likely not in the way most people considered suitable for a husband and wife relationship. They fought almost constantly, managed to happily spend months apart, and yet somehow they always came back to one another. That likely wasn't the thing that ideal marriages came from and yet...

Phillip couldn't believe that she just expected him to know about this child and not do anything. Not give her money, not be there, not be involved...nothing. Utterly shocked by the multi level rejection and still reeling from the initial pregnancy news, Phillip just gaped at her, his mouth slightly ajar.

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-14 03:07 am UTC (link)
Looking at his slackjawed expression, Whit felt the twinges of sympathy, of how she'd acted the whole day and night after the doctor's news, and moved to pick up the as-yet-emptied wine glass that was his, passing it to him and making certain his fingers were secure around it. Once she had, she retreated again, but this time to keep speaking without the hesitance that had come before. The news was out, she'd killed his gut reaction in it's tracks and now she could focus on reassuring them both – or at least him.

"This isn't going to be a problem. Other than you and me, no one knows the paternity of this child. It won't affect your standing in the company or your public image. Any necessary paperwork can go without your information, or I'll pay off someone to keep the documents locked down."

Inhaling, she let out the breath twice as fast. "I'm the irresponsible de Winter daughter," she said, the bitterness there very faintly, "they won't be surprised I got myself knocked up, and even if my dear father persists in wanting to know who, I won't tell him. And my mother..."

That thought best left for later, she continued. "I'm financially stable in my own right, even without the greater family fortune. I'll take care of everything, Phillip."

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-14 03:25 am UTC (link)
Phillip felt anger rise at her words. "No. Absolutely not." He said, unintentionally mirroring her earlier statement. "I'm not going to let a child that's partially mine be used like some tool for people to hurt you, and I'm sure as hell not going to let the kid grow up without knowing who his father is."

His mouth was set into a firm line of determination, the one he normally reserved for tough business negotiations that he wasn't going to budge an inch on. Normally he preferred smooth, almost feline precision as he discussed a topic, but this time as far as Phillip was concerned discussion was over. He wasn't going to abandon a child, and he wasn't going to have her doctor documents and hide originals like the pregnancy was something to be ashamed on. It was a difficult situation, yes, something they certainly had never planned on, but he couldn't see how a baby between him and Whitney would be such a bad thing. He was a good man, and Whitney a clever, attractive woman who knew of his other life. Besides, he thought she was grossly underestimating her family. The de Winters had always treated Phillip like one of the family, and he couldn't help but think that a baby between him and Whitney would be a welcome thing to them.

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-14 03:36 am UTC (link)
It was Whit's turn to be slightly slackjawed again, pausing to again look at Phillip. What she found didn't please her, as she knew that damned look on his face, and she rarely liked it. Shed' been willing to give him an out, but she'd been in a state of delusion to think he's take it or accept her first answer. She was really not in the mood for that sort of game, him asking the same thing repeatedly, her answering the same over and over, though more colorful the longer the insanity went on.

"I'm not marrying you, Phillip, I don't care how badly that grates against your sense of responsibility. We can't even exist in the same space for long, we definitely can't expect that to be any better if we were married, and I'm not subjecting some child to some loveless, completely mad farce of a marriage."

Folding her arms over her chest, she regarded him darkly. "So what are you wanting, your name in the birth certificate? Me to accept your money? You to have custody on weekends you never actually have because you're a workaholic who sold his soul to the de Winter empire?"

It wasn't the first time she'd accused him of being a company man to the quick, but tonight that 'crime' in her eyes was taking on a whole new level.

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-14 04:01 am UTC (link)
Phillip's anger turned into full on rage. This wasn't something that either of them had planned on, but it was here now and both of them had gotten where they were in the company by thinking on their feet and adapting. Though he didn't raise his voice or throw a fit, there was a dangerous glint to his eyes that showed that the cat had metaphorically put out its claws.

"Maybe...but I'm sure those workaholic weekends would be a decent relief after all that time on the road. A kid needs a place to put down roots. They need to go to the same school for a while, make friends, go to the same doctor more than once..." Phillip knew, because though he loved his family, his childhood had sorely been lacking in consistency.

"Regardless of what you think, Whitney, I still have a soul. I am a damn good son and brother, and I'd be a half decent father. Did you ever think that's why we should consider this whole marriage thing? On our own, a kid would probably turn up with enough problems to put a shrink's great grandchildren through school, but together...together we might be able to do enough to make a decent parent."

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-17 01:35 am UTC (link)
"Not every person is you, Phillip," Whitney said, grinding her teeth. It was hardly as nasty a comment as it could be, but right now, when she'd already had several attacks of conscience in laying out her life – a life she couldn't give up unless she wanted to be miserable and crazy – in judgment of something a child should or shouldn't have. "Some children would love that kind of life, learning by doing, taught by history in person, having that much time with their mother..."

Shaking her head, she moved to get her shoes and bag. "I'm not marrying you, Phillip. I'm not subjecting some child to how completely dysfunctional we are together just to have the cute little image of a mommy and daddy and baby all together. I'd rather see this child deal with whatever comes with not having a nuclear family unit than have to suffer through parents who constantly fight and can't see eye to eye because they're so impossibly different."

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-17 02:04 am UTC (link)
Phillip let out a muffled groan of frustration when he saw her gathering her things as though to go. Damn it, why did this have to be so hard?

"Then don't marry me," he all but growled. "But don't write me out of this either. This isn't about how dysfunctional we are, this is about how dysfunctional it is to expect a child not to question where he came from. You might think I'm a soulless bastard, you might not need me, but I need to be here."

Perhaps it was Phillip's traditional upbringing, perhaps it was the loyalty that he inherited from his tale, but he couldn't just learn he was expecting a child and then take the easy route, the one guaranteed to leave his name untarnished. He wasn't one to take the easy path anyhow.

"I'll come with you, Whitney, I'll go to France or Russia or Zimbabwe or wherever you're gonna be that day, but you're not writing me out of this."

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-17 02:26 am UTC (link)
As emotionally at odds as she was right now, Whit could still hear the note of sincerity on Phillip's voice, which at least made her slightly correct what he was saying.

"I don't think you're soulless, I just think your life, your heart, your soul is wrapped in that damn company," she said, slipping her shoes back on. It wouldn't be a crime to everyone, but the de Winter family, her family, would always be an explosive sort of subject at times, especially combining that with Phillip, who was essentially her father's Golden Boy. She'd worked hard to carve a life out for herself that didn't involve being tied to a desk every day of her life and she'd never be the daughter they wanted because of it.

"But all right," she continued, letting out a tired sigh. "We'll figure out a joint custody agreement. I don't want you following me all over, because you could never be happy living like that. So we'll figure something else out. I'll have Leo draft an agreement and we'll go from there."

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-17 02:32 am UTC (link)
Phillip sighed. Draw up an agreement? Like a piece of property exchanging hands or something? It didn't sound right for a child, but he knew that she was right. Neither of them was really functional enough for a marriage, and no child would be enough of a glue to hold together two people so different. It wasn't right, but it was the best they could do.

"If you need anything..." he said, the words sounding almost lame to his own ears. "I know you don't need money or anything like that, but if you...if you need someone to go to the....the things..." Damn it, he thought, normally his words ran a hell of a lot smoother than that. "Or anything, let me know."

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[info]travelstheworld
2009-05-17 02:42 am UTC (link)
Whit found she didn't like his almost hesitant way of speaking, that it unnerved her greatly. None of this telling had gone how she planned, at all, and now that it was done, she only felt more overwhelmed, not less. As long as she'd only had to tell him, she'd only had to think that far ahead. Now the rest of it was looming alarmingly in front of her and she didn't like it, not one damn bit.

Jesus Christ, what have we gotten ourselves into?

Shaking her head slightly, she bent to pick up her bag. "I think we both should just take some time to think about all of this, for now," she said, then reached out and gripped the back of a chair to steady herself against the wave of lightheadedness.

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[info]pussinprada
2009-05-17 04:56 am UTC (link)
Phillip moved with catlike reflexes when he saw her falter and hold on to the chair. He rested a steadying hand on her back, fully prepared to catch her if what looked like dizziness turned into something more. It was bad enough that they had to deal with the stress of talking about this and fighting, but she had to deal with the physical symptoms as well. Damn it all to hell.

"Whitney?" He said softly. "Maybe you should sit down. You don't have to hurry out."

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