"For What It's Worth…"
Hey Guys! Here's a new story. I hope you guys enjoy it!
As Mellie scrolled through the headlines on her tablet, she shook her head and cursed herself silently for being that stupid. "How did I not know?" she thought to herself. "Thirteen years of my life gone down the drain! I should have known better." She believed that the huge divorce settlement would bring her some type of comfort, but it didn't. It only made things worse. In her mind, the settlement was more like hush money than mad money. While Charles was more than generous in her alimony…after being blackmailed by Cyrus of course…and in the splitting of the mutual assets, she couldn't help but feel like it wasn't enough for what he put her through.
"Mrs. Vanderbilt," called a young woman as she tiptoed into Mellie's study. "Mrs. Vanderbilt?"
Mellie looked up to find her assistant nervously rocking on the heels of her feet. "Yes, Jeannie?" She answered as her fingers continued to run across her tablet searching for the headlines pertaining to the divorce. She wanted know how bad the media was raking her over the coals today.
"The movers are here, and I need to know what's going to London and what's going to back home to North Carolina…"
"Jeannie, everything is going to North Carolina. The place in London is already furnished." Mellie glanced back at her tablet and continued scrolling the headlines.
"Oh," she muttered. "…and Governor Beene is here. He wants to speak with you…"
Mellie took deep breath and leaned back in her chair. Cyrus Beene was the last person that she wanted to see right now. "Ugh," she grunted. "Give me a few more minutes, and I will be right out." The young woman nodded her head in acknowledgement and left as quietly as she came in.
Mellie looked up at the vaulted ceiling and closed her eyes, so she could gather her thoughts before meeting with Cyrus. "You can do this," she thought to herself. "The worst part is over. You made it through that terrible marriage…and the messy divorce. You can handle one social visit from Cyrus Beene." As she stood up from her chair, she smoothed the wrinkles out of her charcoal slacks and adjusted her pearls. She quickly walked through the study and down the stairs to the living room.
"Uncle Cyrus," she smiled as she reached out for his hands "How are you? How are James and baby Ella?"
"Hey kiddo," greeted Cyrus as he grabbed her hands and pulled her into a hug. "They're fine. Ella just started walking, so we're baby proofing the mansion right now. And James is James. He has really taken this First Gentleman thing to a completely different level. What can I say? My husband loves going over the top! You should stop by the mansion sometime. I know that they both miss you-"
"Uncle Cy," interrupted Mellie as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I miss them too, but I just need some time to myself to figure things out. I want to stay out of the public spotlight, and a trip to the governor's mansion wouldn't be in my best interest."
"I know." Cyrus leaned down and placed a kiss on Mellie's forehead. "But, we're family. There is no judging at the Beene-Novak household. We love you, and we just want what's best for you…"
"I know," whispered Mellie as she squeezed Cyrus a little bit tighter. "Anyways, what are you doing in Manhattan? Because the last time I checked, the governor's mansion is in Albany…unless you had it moved." She asked questioningly.
"No, it's still in Albany," answered Cyrus. " I stopped by because I need you to sign some papers." Cyrus unwrapped his arms from around Mellie's waist and reached into his coat pocket. "It's just a basic nondisclosure clause and the property transfer agreement for the Newport cottage." Cyrus handed over the papers and watched as Mellie read over them.
"Then, everything will be over?" Mellie asked hopefully as she started pacing around the living room.
"Yes," answered Cyrus with a weak smile as he took a seat on the sofa.
Mellie grabbed a pen off the coffee table and quickly scribbled her name on the dotted lines. Once she finished, she handed Cyrus the papers and exhaled deeply. "It's over."
"It's over," confirmed Cyrus as Mellie took a seat next to him. For the next few minutes, they sat in silence and watched the movers pack up the apartment. It wasn't until Cyrus's detail knocked on the door that they came back down to earth. "Well," started Cyrus. "That's my cue. I guess it's time for me to go." Cyrus stood up, buttoned his blazer, and walked towards the front door. "For what it's worth…" He called over his shoulder as he began turning the knob. "It wasn't your fault. Real men don't bully their wives, and they definitely don't have affairs with escorts. Don't worry, Charles will get his one day…and you will love again, and it will be the best thing that ever happened to you. I promise. Good luck in London kiddo." Without another word, Cyrus opened the front door and quickly shut it. As he forced his way through the crowd and to his motorcade, he was met by a mob of reporters and mind-numbing camera flashes.
"Governor Beene!" yelled an ABC reporter. "How is Mrs. Vanderbilt today? Is she okay? Did she try to commit suicide?"
"What about the settlement?" asked another one. "Is it true that Mrs. Vanderbilt will now own the Biltmore estate and Newport cottage?"
"Governor Beene!" screamed a New York Times columnist. "Do you have any comment on the drug abuse allegations made by Mr. Vanderbilt on Anderson Cooper last week?"
Cyrus shook his in disbelief. "What vultures!" he thought to himself as he climbed into the SUV. "…and that damn Charles is going to pay for this!" Cyrus hit his hand on the window and took a deep to calm his rage. Maybe sending Mellie to London was a good idea.
Meanwhile in London…
As Abby placed the last bowl on the table, her teenage sons rushed into kitchen. Somehow, they always had sixth sense when it came to these things. They immediately started loading their plates with food.
"Stop," she ordered as she poured another cup of coffee. "You guys know the deal. No eating until everyone is at the table…"
"Who's missing?" asked Grant as he looked around. "Dad's at work already…Gage is in the playpen…and Grayson is right here. Who's missing?"
"I don't know," teased Abby. "I thought we had an extra houseguest. You know, six feet tall…curly brown hair…super intelligent…kind of looks like me and you. Does that ring any bells?"
Both boys blew out an exaggerated sigh and rolled their eyes. "But Uncle Fitz is still asleep," complained Grayson.
"Well, did you wake him?" countered Abby as she walked over to the playpen to pick up her youngest. "That would be the nice thing to do, so he doesn't have to eat cold food..."
Once the boys realized that Abby wasn't bending on the rule, they gave in. "I'll do it," huffed Grayson.
"Thanks," smiled Abby as she placed the toddler in his high chair and strapped him in. "…and be nice to him. He's had a rough a few months."
A few seconds later, the boy returned with a big smile. "He said that we can eat without him." Both boys immediately dug in and started stuffing their faces. "And Mom, Uncle Fitz said that he's not feeling well and asked me to ask you to bring him a screwdriver."
"A screwdriver?" questioned Abby. "What does he need with a-" Abby stopped midsentence when she realized what Fitz really wanted. "I'll be right back," huffed Abby as she stormed down the hallway. "…and pay close attention to your brother. Make sure that he doesn't choke."
As Abby approached Fitz's suite, she could hear him heaving into the toilet. "Just like old times." She thought to herself. It reminded her of their days in prep school when they would party hard and get drunk on the weekends. Fitz could never hold his alcohol, so he would spend Sunday mornings throwing it all back up.
"Rise and shine!" screamed Abby as she busted through the door. "Breakfast is on the table! We have scrambled eggs with cheese…oatmeal….a pound of bacon…and buttered toast. Yum! It smells so heavenly out there!"
"Abby," groaned Fitz as he leaned against the toilet. "I can't…too much….stomach hurts…" Fitz tried his best to suppress his urge to vomit but couldn't. He buried his face in the toilet and let it all out.
"You look terrible…worse than Spring Break of '99 when you did tequila shots of some sorority girl's stomach in Brazil, and I didn't think that was possible." Abby walked into the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel from the rack. "The looking worse part not the shot taking part. The shot taking part is definitely possible. I've done it. " she clarified as she took a seat beside him. She handed him the towel and waited for him to say something.
"She called last night," admitted Fitz as he laid his head against the toilet. "Apparently, she's pregnant."
"Fitz," whispered Abby as she started to rub his back. "Is it…" she trailed off.
Fitz took a deep breath and looked at Abby. "She doesn't know. The doctor puts the time of conception around our drunken one night stand and within a week of when she did this other guy."
"Fitz, I'm sorry." She apologized. "Have you decided on what to do?"
"No," admitted Fitz as he shook his head. "I told her that I wanted a DNA before I even consider talking about this baby."
"…and if it's positive? Will you take her back?"
"Probably," admitted Fitz. "I've always wanted to be a father. She was the holdout…and despite all of shortcomings, I still love her. She is the love of my life."
"Fitz…"
"I know. I'm pathetic," laughed Fitz as shifted his weight.
"No, you're not. We've all been there."
"Really? Then, why do I feel so alone?"
"Because…that's life. But…for what it's worth, I think everything will be fine. Fitz, you could move on from her at any time. You just need to put yourself out there. I promise you that there is someone out there who is ready for a family and is willing to settle down with you. "
"Really?" asked Fitz.
"Really," confirmed Abby as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest. For the next few minutes, they sat there in silence and reflected on their lives up to that point. How could two siblings have completely different outcomes in life? Fitz deserved a family just as much as she did.
"Can I ask you for a favor?" announced Fitz breaking the silence.
"Sure…what?"
"Can you tell Mom before she reads it in the tabloids?"
"Noooooo!" answered Abby as she stood up. "No, I am not telling mom that you got your ex-wife pregnant. I told her about the engagement, about the divorce, and about you decision to move to London. It is time for you to be a man and tell her yourself."
"But Abby," whined Fitz. "You are so much better at delivering bad news. You are always so focused and…I get in a room with her, and she gives me those puppy dog eyes. Then, I forget all about my problems because I don't want to disappoint her. You're used to that look. I'm not. "
"Well, you better get used to it because I am not telling Mom about this…"
Thirty minutes later…
Abby picked up the phone and dialed the one number she hated dialing. As the phone rang, she looked at Fitz and rolled her eyes. "You owe me BIG." She mouthed.
"I know," he whispered. "I will watch the boys this weekend, so you and Harrison can do whatever it is you two do…"
When the call connected, Abby inhaled deeply. "Mom," she breathed out. "I know. The boys just keep me so busy. Anyways, I have to tell you something before you read it in the tabloids…" She took another breath and slowly exhaled. "No, mom. I am not getting a divorce, and I am not throwing my life away by being married to Harrison." She took another deep breath. "No, I'm not pregnant. Don't worry. Harrison and I will not be having another 'bastard' any time soon. He got 'fixed' after Gage was born." Abby leaned against the counter and tried to control her temper. "Mom…Fitz got Olivia pregnant!" For the first time since the conversation started, their mother was speechless. "Mom?" asked Abby. "I understand, and I will give him the message. Goodbye mother."
"What message?" asked Fitz as soon as Abby replaced the phone on its charger.
"She wants you back in the states…"
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