House of Stone (3/5)
professor!Andy Barber x student!single mom!reader
Premise: Spin-off/sequel to Wooden Façade; Settling into his new life as a bachelor, Andy is helping his brother Ari prepare for his wedding to their mother’s former nurse. Between wedding planning and teaching, you enter his life and your eccentric one-year-old daughter catches his attention.
Warnings: mentions of sudden death, divorce, familial conflicts, spousal conflicts, pregnancy, and Parkinson’s disease; Laurie Barber slander; teacher-student friendship; romantic/sexual tension; awkward and cringey moments; blindsiding siblings (Ari and Bunny are menaces to Andy); Andy wears glasses and is a hot professor
A/N: Important to note that the events of Defending Jacob do not occur before, during, or after this series. Andy and Laurie are divorced and Jacob lives with Laurie.
Thank you as always to @eightcevanscentral
Read Wooden Façade here
House of Stone Masterlist
Main Masterlist
By March, the spring semester is halfway through. With each passing day, you find yourself closer to the finish line, closer to graduation day. Closer to nights with Ivy, and closer to…
Your laptop chimes, startling you from the drowsiness making your eyelids heavy as you try to catch up on readings.
It’s an email from Andy, clearing up your confusion about a policy he lectured on last week.
You smiled, sending him a quick thank-you email.
He replies once more:
No worries. It’s late, you should get to bed. Goodnight, mama bear. Hope baby bear’s well. - AB
It was strange how being on a first-name/nickname basis with your professor changed the dynamic between the two of you so much. There wasn’t a need to be so proper when you emailed or spoke privately. You didn’t feel the need to stand on ceremony or control your reactions. When he cracked the occasional joke during class, you laughed freely, and he always looked right at you.
He checked in on you and Ivy more often, making himself available to meet with you to help with assignments at your convenience. It made things easier, alleviating the stress of needing to bend over backward to make meetings with professors on their schedules. Instead, you were able to find more of a balance between being a parent and being a student.
There was a part of you that couldn’t deny the giddiness that came with the new evolution of your interactions with Andy. You hoped it wasn’t just him being accommodating or kind; you hoped there was something more, something he recognized and felt too.
You knew it was silly to think that way. There was a clear line and neither of you have really crossed it. The closest instance of that was at your friend’s wedding in December when you danced with him. He got a little close, but nothing you felt was violating or uncomfortable. It felt…nice. Good, even, to be so near to him.
You liked the way he held your body in his hands. In the chaotic haze of your double life, you found yourself stabilized and almost carefree until Ivy cried. Even then, when you heard her, you weren’t so frazzled and worried as you had been in previous instances where you felt like you had to rush to her.
Sighing, you knew you could go on until 6 AM with these thoughts, your mind running towards a nonexistent finish line. You may never get answers to your ruminations. Or, if you do get answers, they may be the ones you don’t want.
It could all mean nothing to him. He could be doing this with no afterthought about you; something platonic to help you until you can fully stand on your feet as a paralegal.
Deciding to fully put your thoughts to rest, you shake your head and close your laptop, turn off the lights, and head to bed.
- - - – -
“Have a seat, Barber.”
Making himself comfortable on the chair in front of the dean’s desk, smoothing out his tie.
“What’s this about, Desdimone?”
“I’ll get straight to the point since you have a class in an hour; the university’s IT security team randomly audits professor’s emails to make sure everyone’s adhering to policies. HIPAA, appropriate behavior, you know the drill.”
Andy furrows his brows. “I don’t think I was aware of this.”
“It was in the contract you signed when we hired you and mentioned in your IT training during orientation when we onboarded you.”
Biting the inside of his cheek, he realizes he has no leg to stand on to argue and decides to get to the root of the issue. Though he can probably guess which emails have called him into question, he feigns ignorance. “So, I assume there’s a problem with my emails?”
Dean Desdimone pulls out a folder and places two pieces of paper on the desk. “They were audited this past week. These are the emails we found between you and one of your students.”
When Andy leans forward to read them, he spots your school email address at the top of the pages.
“You call her ‘mama bear’ and mention a ‘baby bear,’” Desdimone states in a matter-of-fact tone. “Care to explain?”
Andy sighs and relaxes in his chair; it’ll be easy to get out of this one.
“Miss Y/L/N is a single mom. I call her ‘mama bear’ and her daughter ‘baby bear.’ It’s just me acknowledging that.”
“Do you think it’s appropriate?”
“There’s nothing more to it than that. As you can see, everything we talk about is strictly school-related. Any discussion about her daughter is only as it pertains to her being able to attend classes or counseling meetings with me.”
Desdimone leans back himself, pondering his responses for a moment. He taps his fingers twice, not looking convinced.
“Come on, Desdimone, you know me. I’d never do anything like what you’re suggesting.”
The dean shakes his head. “I know you’re a good lawyer, Barber, and this university is lucky to have you because of that, but that’s about it. I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but if this continues, then I’ll have to take action and remove her from your class.”
Pursuing his lips, Andy agrees.
With that, he’s dismissed from the meeting, face flushing when he thinks about how just two weeks ago, he let another nickname for you slip.
He couldn’t help it. You’re soft, so sweet and he just wants to hold you all the time, like a teddy bear.
He remembers the anxiety that settled in his chest as he sent the email calling you that for the first time.
It’s no problem, Teddy. Goodnight. - AB
He was mortified, but you didn’t seem to be bothered.
It was dumb luck that he was audited this week and not last week; he needed to be more careful.
- - - - -
As students filed in for his evening class, Andy did his usual routine: busying himself at the podium with organizing his notes, making sure his bottle of water is filled, cleaning his glasses, and checking for last-minute absences in his inbox. He responded to students that greeted him on their way in but noticed something was missing.
Or rather, someone.
As his alarm beeped to signal the beginning of class, you hadn’t greeted him yet.
Pressing his glasses up his nose, he looks up to the third row of the center section, the second seat from the left.
It’s empty. You’re not there.
He looks at his inbox one more time, hitting the refresh button. There’s no email from you saying you’ll be late or missing class.
“Um…um,” he stammers, trying to find the words. “Let’s-let’s wait another five minutes before we start, just in case anyone else needs to trickle in.”
He feels like a fool saying that; despite giving you most of his attention, he knows what a full class for this evening time slot looks like: it looks exactly like the clustered arrangement of students in front of him.
But you not being there was enough to make it all look so empty.
He watches the door. He waits for his laptop to chime. He waits for his phone to ring; you never call, but maybe you will this time.
Five minutes pass, and he has no choice. Clearing his throat, he clicks to the first slide. “Let’s get started.”
- - -
As the last of his students exit the lecture hall, Andy’s worry escalates.
You never miss class. You never miss an opportunity to communicate what’s going on with you and Ivy. Whatever’s going on, it must be an emergency.
He begins to type on his laptop before halting suddenly and looking up at the end of the lecture hall. There, perched in the center of the ceiling behind the projection screen, is a camera. There are two others in the corners.
He can’t do this here. As he packs his things, he realizes he can’t do it anywhere in the school building. He’s been audited already, and with the meeting with the dean earlier, he suspects there’s already a red flag on his shoulder.
Deciding to not take any chances, he walks to his car and gets in. Opening his laptop again, Andy disconnects from the school wifi and uses the hot spot on his phone to get onto the internet, using a private window. It feels odd to have access to the information he’s looking for as he clicks through the university database, finding your name and phone number.
Looking around in the empty parking lot, he dials and brings his phone to his ear, listening to it ring and waiting for you to pick up.
“Andy?” you ask on the other side.
He clears his throat, “Hi, yeah. How’d you know it was me?”
“I…the phones do that now. With the Caller ID.”
“Oh, oh, right…” he trails off, feeling like an idiot. He changes the subject quickly, “I just wanted to check on you. You…you weren’t in class.”
“Yeah, um,” you begin. He hears a sharp inhale and your voice comes shakily as you continue, “I’m fine. Um, there’s just been a situation…with Ivy.”
His heart nearly stops. “Is everything okay?”
“Mhmm,” you hum, “She’s good. Safe.”
“Teddy…” Andy’s voice comes out like a warning, sensing there’s more that you’re not telling him. “What happened?”
You begin to sob, harsh breaths sounding like static in his ear. “I-I can’t talk about it, it’s hard.”
Closing his eyes, his heart squeezes and he knows he’d be risking a lot by offering, but he offers anyway. It’s almost instinctive; whatever’s hurting you, he needs to help somehow. “Do you want me to come over? Maybe I can help?”
You huff a little. “I think it’s a bit above your pay grade as a professor. It’s not much of a university matter.”
“If there’s anything I can do, I’m happy to do it. You know that. Anything.”
You’re quiet for a few moments. He pulls the phone back to see if the call is still going. Placing the phone back on his ear, he says your name.
You give him the address before hanging up. Starting his car, he drives over without a second thought.
Knocking on the door of your apartment, he’s barely begun to retract his hand before you open the door.
“Hey, come in,” you say, stepping aside and allowing him to enter. He can see how you’re still trying to put up a front, smiling while your eyes are red and swollen.
Shutting the door behind you, you offer him something to eat or drink.
“No, thank you,” he shakes his head, looking around at the small space you and Ivy call home. The kitchen lights are on, but there aren’t any dishes in the sink. “Have you eaten?”
He turns as he asks the question, facing you. You look guilty as you shake your head.
Andy walks into the kitchen, opening the different cupboards and cabinets before finding an appropriate pot. He goes through the drawers next, putting up a slotted cooking spoon and setting it on the counter. He fills the pot with water and puts it on the stove before turning on the fire.
“What are you doing?”
He opens the pantry door and scans the shelves. He pulls out a box of mac and cheese, salt, pepper, and a jar of pesto sauce.
“I’m making you dinner,” he answers, opening the fridge and taking out butter and milk.
He also grabs the neck of a bottle of wine, setting it on the counter and rifling through the cupboards again to find a pair of wine glasses.
Unstopping the bottle, he pours one for himself and one for you, far more generous than his own. He turns and offers you the glass.
You give him a sad smile, walking over and taking it by the stem. Clinking it against his, you both take a sip as the water heats up.
“Thank you,” you sigh after you swallow, leaning against the tiny island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Not a problem,” he smiles, placing his glass on the counter. Gripping the edges of the worktop, he leans back and looks at you. “So, what’s wrong?”
Pursing your lips, you take another sip before you answer. “It’s Troy–Ivy’s dad. It’s his parents; her grandparents.”
You move around the island and stand at the dining table, looking through a stack of papers. Up until now, Andy had thought they were just school documents. Now, giving them a good look and seeing the manila envelope with your name and address, he knows something more nefarious is at play. When you find the paper you’re looking for, you read it, then hand it to him with watery eyes.
Andy reads the top of the document and his heart drops.
“They’re making a play for custody of Ivy,” you tell him, your voice trembling as you wipe your tears. “They…they did this last year when she was born.”
“What do you mean?”
“They didn’t want anything to do with us when I was pregnant, especially after Troy died. But then, when they found out she was born, they were coming over every day.”
You laugh bitterly, looking up to the ceiling and shaking your head as if chastising yourself for being so foolish. “I thought…I thought I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Ivy, I had my aunt and my cousin, I had them.”
Andy dreads the “but…” that’s coming.
“They hung around for a week, and at the end, they said they were going back home. I thought they were coming around to say goodbye, but they brought boxes and tried to pack Ivy’s things. When I asked what they were doing, they asked me to give her to them. And I know grief can make people do crazy things, but asking a mother who just gave birth to give her baby to you? That really takes the cake. Because fuck me, right? Just forget the fact that I’m the woman who carried her for nine months and pushed her out of my vagina–”
You stop suddenly, seeming to catch yourself.
“Sorry, I just…” you begin to sob, “I’m so angry and I have no chance against them. They’re trying to claim custody and I would give it to them partially, but they were awful.”
You pause, pressing your hands to your face; Andy suspects the memories are replaying in your head.
“I lost Troy, too. And I think they’re only doing this because his birthday passed two weeks ago. They don’t know her. They don’t care about her. If they did, they would’ve been around, they would’ve been helping me this whole time. They wouldn’t have left me alone. They only care about salvaging whatever pieces of their son they can get and–”
You break down, hunching over and bursting into tears. Pushing off the counter, Andy wraps his arms around you, bringing you into his chest. You tremble in his hold but he keeps you secure against him, murmuring “It’s okay,” over and over again. Maybe it doesn’t feel that way, maybe it’s a bad choice of words, but he wants to do everything he can to make it okay.
There’s a pause in your sobbing and you pull back slightly to wipe your cheeks before leaning your head against his chest.
“I can’t lose her, Andy,” you mumble. “I don’t trust them, who knows what they’ve claimed to their lawyer? I have nothing, and if they take Ivy, I’ll have no one–”
He shushes you, pressing a kiss onto your forehead and stroking your hair. “Don’t worry,” he tells you, “You have me.”
- - -
Andy smiled bashfully as you complimented his genius in adding pesto to boxed mac and cheese. He made a point to clear the dining table of any pieces of paper to help you forget the court case for the time being.
“Thank you for this,” you tell him. “You didn’t have to. I warned you it was above your pay grade but I really appreciate it.”
He chuckles, scooping another serving before he shakes his head. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’m happy to do it.”
Smiling, you take another bite and sigh. You enjoy the silence with him, professor-student standing be damned. This was nice.
You hear whimpering from down the hall, more motherly instincts kicking in, making you get up from your chair and disappear down the hall to the bedrooms.
When you come back, Ivy is in your arms, bleary-eyed and wrapped in a blanket with her hair in all different directions. You smooth the strands down and bring her to the table.
“I think she knows that I’ve been stressed,” you say, sitting down. When she reaches for your bowl, you stop her to prevent food from flying everywhere. “Oh, no, no, hold on.”
“Here,” Andy says, reaching for her. He pulls her out of your lap and into his. Picking up his spoon, he shakes off excess noodles and brings the edge of it to her mouth, letting her feed easily.
She does her exaggerated hum of satisfaction, happily slapping his hand for more. “Mmm! Deedee!” she giggles.
“You want more?”
“Mo’!” she replies.
He laughs as he feeds her again, and you decide to just enjoy the moment. You and Ivy will have a hard few weeks ahead of you, but Andy reassured you that he would be there every step of the way.
You nearly burst into tears after she eats a few more bites and rubs her eyes. Yawning, she squeaks before pressing her face into Andy’s chest as her eyes close. He adjusts her in his lap to make her more comfortable before he continues to finish his bowl.
You can’t deny how he made it all better. With this looming over you and the prospect of losing your daughter, he holds all your pain in his hand, taking it from you and letting you see this.
If the judge could see the three of you now, they’d realize Ivy has everything she needs.
And so do you.
- - - - -
“Alright, baby bear,” Andy mutters as he places Ivy on her bed. He arranges the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in and comfortable. “Sleep well.”
He steps out, shutting the bedroom door behind him, and meets you in the living area.
“Thank you. I know I’ve been saying that a lot this evening, but I–”
“You know I don’t mind,” he smiles.
“Of course I do.”
Putting on his jacket, Andy picks up his work bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow about the case.”
You purse your lips, seeming to remember everything. It had all gotten away from you in the hour that you spent watching Andy cook and eating with him. “Yeah…I’ll…wait for the call.”
“It’ll all be okay,” he says, bringing you back into his chest, caging you between his arms to hide you from the sting of reality. “I promise, I’m gonna do everything I can to make this go our way.”
Pulling away, you look at him with a curious expression. “‘Our way?’”
“I…” he buffers for a moment, failing to find the right words to explain himself. The truth is, there is no explanation. “Your way. I meant…”
Your body surges as you throw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as you press your lips to his.
He’s stunned for a moment, frozen as his face reacts with raised eyebrows and flushing cheeks but his body doesn’t move a muscle. His heart races and he shuts his eyes, kissing you back the way he wanted to when he had you on the dance floor at his brother’s wedding.
The two of you pull away and you step back, covering the lower half of your face with your hands. “I…I’m sorry, that was uncalled for and wildly inappropriate. I don’t know what came over me–”
Smiling like an idiot, Andy doesn’t have the patience to listen to a bullshit excuse from you.
You kissed him. That was all the blessing he needed.
Sweeping you into his arms again, he kisses you once, twice, and a third time, loving the feeling of your hands in his hair as they creep up his neck, engulfing him in you.
You step back again, laughing shyly. “That was…”
“It was…”
“Nice.” “Good.”
“I agree,” he nods.
“Good. Um…”
“But we probably shouldn’t do that again.”
You nod as well, “Right, yes, I agree.”
“At least not until after you graduate.”
“Oh, yes, good point. After I graduate.”
“Because then you won’t be my student anymore.”
“Mhmm, yup.”
Silence falls over the two of you and you begin to walk towards the door. “Um, I’ll wait for your call tomorrow.”
Getting the cue, Andy nods and heads toward the door, stepping out into the atrium of the apartment building. “Yes, I’ll keep you posted. And I’ll see you next week. Don’t worry about the paper, by the way. If you need more time, I’m happy to give it to you.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary. But thanks, anyway.”
“Okay.”
He stands there and you look at him. Neither of you wants to say goodbye.
You blink, smiling at him and leaning your head against the door. “Goodnight, Professor Barber.”
“Goodnight,” he breathes. “Goodnight, Teddy.”
Lingering your gaze on him the entire time you close the door, you can’t help but lean against it as it shuts. You cover your face with your hands and smile, skin heating up in giddiness.
If it wasn’t for Ivy, Andy never would have made it to your apartment tonight. Things would have looked so differently for the two of you.
He gives you hope; a second vine crawling over your heart, protecting you from anything that could hurt you.
An ivy.
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