For the next week, Cat did whatever she could to make JC believe she was comfortable in his/their house.  She went for a swim every morning, usually before JC even got up, and spent the days trying to familiarize herself with the house.  The center had been twice its size, of course, but she'd really only spent time in a few areas.  Here, she had free run of pretty much wherever she wanted.  It was a lot to take in. 

The one thing she hadn't managed to do was spend a full night in bed with JC.  Every night, she waited until she was sure he was asleep, then snuck down to sleep on the couch for as long as she could.  It wasn't for lack of trying - each night, Cat tried her hardest to will herself to sleep, but whenever she felt close, JC would move or make a noise and she was wide awake.

By the time the weekend rolled around again, she was just starting to get restless (there was only so many times she could roam aimlessly about the house) when JC asked if she wanted to help him downstairs.

"Most of the construction's done, so now we're just waiting on the sound equipment and finishing touches," he told her.  "But I could use some help unpacking things and organizing."

Back at the Hollywood house, JC's studio was his veritable sanctuary.  Cat was allowed down there, of course (unless the red light over the door was on, which meant anyone who even knocked had potentially thrown thousands of dollars of recording down the drain without knowing it), but she'd never felt particularly welcome.  In the studio, JC was all business and it made her nervous, so she usually stayed away.  JC asking her to help with something studio related was unprecedented.

"Are you sure?" she asked, loading their plates from lunch into the dishwasher.  "I don't want to screw anything up."

JC laughed.  "You won't.  Come on."

Cat followed him down the hallway past the stairs that led to the back quadrant of the house.  There was another bedroom down there (making a total of five) and another wide room that JC called the den that overlooked the far side of the backyard.  Additionally, a lone door led to a set of hardwood-stairs down to the basement.

"I need to get carpet put on these," JC muttered, seemingly to himself, as they made their way down. 

JC opened the door that led into the basement, ushering Cat inside first.  It looked like, at one point in time, the underground space was a nicely arranged area, whether used for a family room or a game room (though Cat wasn't sure why anyone would need yet another room to use in this enormous house).  Now, however, it was in a relative shambles - the part of the room that would function for mixing and holding all the other important equipment that cost more money than Cat could even begin to imagine, was wholly unfinished, with large gaps in the countertops waiting for soundboards and computers and what not.  The soundproof glass that would separate that area from the live room was missing, but beyond the countertop lay a wide space, large enough to hold every type of instrument, but for now was only home to a baby grand piano and a couple of amps stacked in the corner.  The room had already been carpeted and soundproofed, and a vocal isolation booth had been sectioned off in the corner closest to the studio.

"It's a work in progress," JC said from somewhere behind her.  "I should be able to get most of the equipment in by next week."

"It looks great," Cat admitted.  It seemed like this basement was much bigger than the one at the Hollywood house.  There was even a set of built-in shelves off to the side of the studio.  "What are those for?"

"Those are what I need your help with," JC said.  He motioned towards the unopened cardboard boxes in front of the shelving.  "I thought, since I had the room, I'd keep awards and whatnot down here."  He shrugged.  "I figured you'd be better than I was at deciding what looked good where and...you know."

Cat had seen all of JC's awards before, of course - though at the Hollywood house, he'd had an entire room devoted to them.  When they were dating, she'd been unsure of what to expect upon her first visit to his home.  Would he have Grammies just lying around all over the place, like paperweights?  But she'd been surprised when he'd shown her a small spare bedroom upstairs that functioned as his awards room.  It really wasn't much, and JC himself admitted that he rarely went in there.

"It's a place to put things that I'm not really sure what to do with," he'd said.  "I'm sure there's a more creative way to display them, but...I guess I'm not sure how to do that without seeming showy."

His clear concern for her feelings about him and his celebrity status had been touching for Cat.  It was obvious that he was proud of what he had done with NSYNC, but not in an overbearing way, and it didn't seem like that was an easy feat. 

The studio seemed like a perfect place to put all of these awards and trophies - a place they could be adequately admired without being the center of attention.  "Okay.  I can do that."

She sat on the floor to unpack the boxes, JC in a chair nearby to help her unwrap everything from nests of packing peanuts and bubble wrap.  It was weird for Cat to see all of this stuff up close and handle everything from a Nickelodeon Kid's Choice Award to an MTV Moonman.  It was sort of surreal.  Additionally, Cat felt strange about this stuff as it had occurred across a span of JC's life that she wasn't at all familiar with.  She hadn't ever been much of a pop music fan, although she would have been just about the right demographic for the music's fanbase.  When Cat did have time to listen to music in college, it was mostly the alternative radio stations typical to most campuses, or oldies (a holdover from growing up with her dad).  She'd heard of NSYNC, sure, just like she'd heard of the Backstreet Boys or Madonna, but she hadn't even known what their music sounded like, let alone what the actual band members looked like, or that she'd be married to one of them someday.

Once they'd unwrapped all of the trophies, Cat set them aside to be determined for shelving later.  She wanted to get a feel of what else there was to display before she started making arrangements, and there was still a whole box left. 

"What's in here?" she asked, already pulling it towards her. 

"Um.  I don't know," JC admitted.  "It may have gotten stuck down here by mistake."

Inside the box, Cat found a stack of old vinyl records beneath a few framed photographs.

"Oh, jeez," JC sighed, rubbing  his temples.  "We don't need to put this stuff out."

"What is it?"  Cat pulled out one of the photographs and unwrapped it before he could get it away from her.  "Oh...wow."

"Don't," JC pleaded, trying to look serious even as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.  "Seriously."

A laugh bubbled up from Cat's throat, uncontrollable, as she set the framed photo down on a shelf and reached for another.  "These are definitely going up."

In the box was a collection of pictures from JC's "dance days" - photos of him in sparkly costumes and funky poses, interspersed with headshots from his Disney Channel years.  Obviously somebody (Cat was guessing her mother-in-law) had taken the time to lovingly frame each one and pack them away carefully.  Cat had never seen any pictures like this, even at JC's parents' home in Florida, and figured this box must have been buried somewhere in JC's old garage, untouched for a very specific reason.

"Come on."  JC sighed and leaned back in his chair as she finished unwrapping and setting out the small collection of frames.  "There's no way I'm leaving those out, honey."

Cat couldn't help but smile to herself as she emptied the rest of the box.  JC called almost everyone "honey", so it wasn't necessarily a special endearment, but she was pleased to find that her heart still warmed a bit when he said it.  That had to be good, right?

"What are these?"  She pulled out the stack of records at the bottom of the box and held them in her lap.  JC raised his eyebrow at her.

"Those are records."

"I know that."  Cat shot him a look.  "Why were they in the box with your old pictures?"

"My mom probably boxed them up from their old house." 

He held out his hands and Cat handed him a stack of the records, keeping a few for herself.  Some looked fairly old - there was a Rolling Stones album and another by Elton John. 

"Some of these were my dad's, I think.  But this one was mine."  JC held up a worn Janet Jackson record and Cat smiled.  She knew more than anyone that JC's music preferences ran towards cheesy R&B, every time.

"We should put these out," Cat suggested.  "Maybe even frame a few."

"Okay," JC agreed, handing her the rest of the albums.  "Whatever you think.  I'll take the box of dance photos, though."

Cat spent the remainder of the afternoon dusting down the shelving units and polishing trophies while JC finished putting up the acoustic tiles in the vocal booth.  It was easy, relaxing work, and Cat felt good about being able to help out in some way rather than just sit upstairs and watch Friends reruns.

At one point, JC disappeared upstairs to find something and returned with a cordless phone in hand.  Cat hadn't even known there was a landline - he used his cell phone for everything. 

"It's for you," he said, holding the phone out towards her with his hand over the mouthpiece.  "It's Adam."

Cat blinked, unsure for a moment of how to respond.  "Oh.  Thanks."

She wiped her hands off on her shorts and took the phone, hesitating for a moment, but JC went right back into the vocal booth without lingering.  She went upstairs before pressing her ear to the receiver, anyway. 

"H-hello?"

"Cat?"  Her brother's voice sounded abnormally far away - Cat couldn't remember the last time she'd talked on a telephone.  At the center, everyone who'd wanted to see her came to visit and they'd talked in person.  She hadn't had a phone in her room, but there was one in the lobby if she needed to get a hold of anyone.  Which she never did. 

"Um, hey."  She wandered into the den, which was dim and cool.  The only furniture inside was a half-filled bookshelf and a leather armchair, which she sank into. 

"Hey."  Adam paused for a moment, and Cat could picture him biting his lip.  "So, you're home."

"Yeah.  Yeah, I got home last week."  Cat drummed her fingers on her knee awkwardly.  "Didn't JC call you?"

"He did, but I was kind of waiting for you to call," Adam replied, as if that should have been obvious.  "So was Dad."

"Sorry."

"That's all you have to say?  Sorry?"  Cat rolled her eyes, already frustrated.

"Yeah, I'm sorry.  Sorry that this is the first time I've ever checked out of rehab.  I guess I don't know the protocol yet."

"Don't get defensive," Adam sighed.  "I didn't call to give you a hard time."

Then why did you call? Cat thought about asking but didn't.  She and Adam typically got along alright, but it took effort, usually more on her end than his.  "Okay.  So what's up?"

"How are you?" Adam asked, thankfully sounding genuine.  "Do you need anything?"

Cat looked around the empty room, picturing the rest of the house in her mind.  Did she need anything?  An unopened box sat nearby with Cat's books written on the side in JC's handwriting.  If he had it his way, JC would make sure that she never needed anything ever again.  "No, I'm fine.  I'm doing fine."

Adam asked about the new house and Cat told him about it in vague detail, spending more time discussing the beach rather than the interior. 

"So you like it," Adam said. 

Cat nodded, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see her.  "Yeah, I like it.  It feels more like home than the house in Hollywood."

The conversation reached a little bit of a lull and Cat could practically hear Adam rubbing his temples. 

"Well, look.  Dad wants to get together, but he also wants to give you your space.  So...when you're ready...I know he really wants to see you."

"Okay."  Cat's father was a no-frills kind of guy, and she could count the number he'd visited her at the center on one hand.  She didn't take it personally, though - she knew it was hard for him to see her in a place like that.  "Maybe we can have dinner somewhere.  You, me, and Dad...and JC, probably.  Oh, and Lindsay."

Adam cleared his throat.  "Yeah, Lindsay and I broke up like 6 months ago."

Whoops.  "Sorry."

"It's alright.  I just started dating a girl from work.  It's pretty casual, but maybe I'll invite her."

"Sure," Cat agreed, trying her best to sound easygoing.  "Maybe next week?"  She briefly wondered if she should run this by JC first.  Was this one of those couple things she hadn't been married long enough to get? 

They decided on a day and a time and a restaurant, one of their father's favorite Italian places in San Pedro.  "So, you'll be there?"

Adam sounded so disbelieving that Cat sighed.  "Yes, Adam, I'll be there.  I'm not trying to avoid you guys, I'm just...it's taking some time to get used to being normal again."

"Alright," Adam said slowly.  She could tell by the hesitation in his voice that he didn't understand, but she didn't know how to make him understand, either.  "Well, see you next week."

After they hung up, Cat sat in the chair for awhile, staring at the ceiling.  The sunlight came through the closed blinds on the window in slits, making a flickering pattern on the ceiling, so she watched it move until the rolling in her stomach calmed down.

When she felt stable enough to get out of the chair, Cat sat down next to the box of books with her name on it.  She pulled the packing tape off and opened up the top.  Her books were inside, just like the label professed, and right on top was the thick Citizens of the Sea book her father had gotten her for her tenth birthday.  The cover was scuffed and the pages were worn with overuse, but seeing the book again sparked such warm and happy memories of childhood in Cat that she actually picked the book up and hugged it close to her. 

She was still holding the book with one arm, and poking through the rest of the box with her other, when JC appeared in the doorway.

"I meant to unpack those," he said.  "I guess I just never got around to it."

He sounded a little nervous, as if he was afraid that he'd hurt her feelings, but Cat just shrugged. 

"It's fine.  I like unpacking books."  It was true - there was something magical about taking the time to stop and leaf through each one, smelling the old book smells, finding long-forgotten bookmarks and dog-eared pages, and then placing them lovingly on the shelf in alphabetical-by-author order.  At least, that's how she preferred to do it.

"So, Adam called," JC said, still leaning against the doorframe and clearly trying hard not to be nosy.  "Everything good?"

"Yeah, fine."  Cat considered telling him about Adam's attitude about her not calling sooner, but for some reason she held back.  She wasn't sure why - she'd used to complain about her brother to JC all the time.  That had been one of the nicer things about being married, having someone around to listen to you rant about crap that no one else was really obligated cared about.  "Um, I told him we'd go to dinner with my dad next week.  Wednesday."  She looked up to gauge his reaction.  "Is that...okay?"

JC nodded.  "Yeah, definitely."  He shuffled his feet a bit on the cream colored carpet.  "I, uh, talked to your dad the day before you came home.  I think he just wanted to give you your space."

That seemed to be the general consensus between Adam and JC, but Cat knew the truth was that her dad really didn't know at all how to handle this situation, so it was easier to just stay away. 

"Are you done downstairs?" Cat asked, ready to change the subject.

"Yeah, pretty much."  He stifled a yawn.  "You wanna watch a movie?"

Cat glanced at her pile of books waiting to be shelved, then back at JC.  He looked so inordinately hopeful that she couldn't possibly turn him down.  "Sure."

As usual, they sat next to each other on the couch, with about a cushion's worth of space in between them, JC wielding the remote as he scrolled through the Pay-Per-View choices at light speed.

"How about this?  Or, this one?  I heard it was good from...somebody.  Oh, this one got great reviews."

Cat could hardly keep up so she pulled a throw blanket over her knees and shrugged.  "They all sound good."

JC chose a movie and tossed the remote to the side.  Cat shifted to get comfortable, curling her legs under her and leaning back.  Her head bumped JC's hand, tossed over the back of the couch behind her, and their eyes met.  Cat almost opened her mouth to murmur an apology, but something told her JC didn't want to hear that.  He smiled at her, reaching down for a moment to brush her hair out of her eyes before putting his hand back where it was. 

Cat turned back toward the TV screen, her heart in her throat.