"Dawson Carolyn Pope! That is too much syrup!" Olivia Pope snapped at her daughter, looking up from her bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, she noticed her six-year old squeezing the bottle of syrup so hard that the woman's face displayed on the bottle appeared scrunched. Dawson jumped, apparently surprised that her mother had looked up from the lengthy acquisition she was rereading.
"They're dry," Dawson complained in her small high-pitched voice, staring pointedly at her cut up pancakes. Olivia raised an eyebrow and glanced at the clock on the stove.
"You have ten minutes to eat, c'mon Daws." Olivia said, in a softer tone this time. Dawson poked out her lip and began pushing the pieces of pancake around her plate, finally she dropped her fork and picked up her plastic cup full of milk. She took a sip and sat the cup down, looking at her mother thoughtfully.
"Mommy?"
"Huh?" Olivia asked, carefully highlighting a section of questionable language, then looking back up at her daughter. Dawson was examining her mother carefully; Olivia knew this look- Dawson was about to open a can of worms- which can of worms it would be remained to be seen.
"Why doesn't Daddy live with us anymore?"
Olivia closed her eyes tightly and looked down. So it would be the can of worms. Of course.
Olivia set down the stack of papers she was holding and cleared her throat. Last time Dawson had asked about her Daddy, Olivia had very little she was willing to say. There honestly wasn't much age-appropriate material she could share. Dawson had always been curious. So, when she was four, Olivia told her the story about when she was still pregnant with her. Olivia and her then-husband, Edison were trying to come up with a suitable baby name for their daughter- they'd just been informed of the gender. Olivia had never been the type to set aside a special list of names for her children, but she did know that she wanted her daughter to have a name that would be special. Edison threw around boring names, then he threw around names so outlandish, just to establish a frame of reference. Finally, Edison proposed the name 'Dawson' – his great-grandmother maiden name. Olivia wasn't sold on the name. But- as soon as she was born, and Olivia looked at her big brown eyes, Olivia had no doubt that she was meant to be a Dawson.
That was just about the most perfect story any single parent could have as an explanation. Especially to a feisty and persistent four-year old.
But this question?
Olivia wasn't entirely prepared. She could not make the story pretty, or neat or nice. She either had to tell her daughter the truth, and shatter her faith in all men at age six, or lie.
"Daddy and Mommy had a fight. And we agreed that it was best for us to live apart." Olivia said slowly, trying to make the words come out naturally.
Dawson blinked and grabbed hold of one of her puff balls, they were huge, and were barely able to be contained by normal ponytail holders, so Olivia had to be resourceful- a month ago she'd went to the store and got a huge container of ballies; they did the trick. Dawson twisted her puff in her small hand, her other arm cradled her face.
Olivia was crestfallen- oh how she looked like her father. Most of the time- thank goodness, she looked like Olivia. She had Olivia's natural confidence, Olivia's quickness. Her eyes were big and brown, framed by thick and uncontrollable eyelashes, and her skin was a creamy, even shade of brown. Even at six, she was the shortest girl in her class, also like her mother. What Dawson lacked in size, she made up for in personality- like Olivia.
However, it was times like these, when Olivia least expected it- that Edison would be sitting at the table with her. His examining gaze taking away any warmth in the room.
But, of course this wasn't precisely the case when Dawson wore the expression. She was a child. An absolute baby, and even if she was quicker on her feet than most six year olds, she'd never look at Olivia in any other way save for adoration.
"So where does Daddy live?" Dawson pressed, her expression softening.
Olivia checked the clock; 7:55. Dawson's school started at 8:30, and Olivia had to be to work by 8:45, 9:00 at the latest.
"We'll talk about this in the car, okay? Mommy needs to make her tea, and you need to go get your backpack and shoes on." Dawson slid out of her chair and slowly left the kitchen, Olivia heard her bare feet slapping against the wood stairs and exhaled in relief, beginning to clear the breakfast dishes as she put the teapot on and readied her mug.
"Mommy! Am I wearing the blue flats or my snappy snazzy ones?" Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember the shoes her daughter was speaking of.
"Um, Lovie you're wearing purple. So no blue shoes. Try the black flats."
Olivia yelled back, emptying Dawson's barely touched pancakes into the garbage disposal. She turned around for her cup and found her milk to be barely touched as well. Olivia shook her head; these days Dawson barely ate anything that wasn't drenched in syrup, cheese or ketchup. She pulled a PediaSure and Dawson's lunch out from the fridge and checked the clock; 7:59.
"Lovie! We have to go!" Olivia called, wiping down the table and replacing the placemats.
"Sweater or no sweater?" Dawson called back. Olivia rolled her eyes. Her daughter was a piece of work. Of course she came down to breakfast barely dressed, so that she could take every second of time that they needed to account for traffic.
"Dawson, grab a sweater and come down here please. Make sure you have your schoolbag." Olivia poured hot water into her mug, already waiting with two bags of green tea. She took two packets of honey and shook them, preparing to pour them in. She wanted to let the tea steep, but she was getting jittery; it took seventeen minutes exactly to get Dawson to school, and she had to go back across the city to her office.
"Dawson!" Olivia called, just as Dawson hopped down the stairs, dressed in a completely different outfit. She'd gone up in a purple tunic with gray tights, but was now dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, her crème sweater and army green jacket. Instead of the flats they'd been debating, Dawson had pulled on her smaller version of Olivia's brown shoe boots. Olivia crossed her arms.
"Seriously? Lovie, you changed your whole outfit." Dawson nodded, turning around at the landing of the stairs.
"Do you like?"
Olivia pursed her lips, trying not to smile. "Yes, Dawson I like. I bought you those clothes."
"Nuh-uh! Pop-Pop bought me these jeans." Olivia grinned despite herself.
"Okay, Miss Nuh-uh. Where's your schoolbag?" Dawson made her oops face and launched back up the stairs. Olivia said a Hail Mary for her own sake as she returned to the kitchen, emptying the honey packets and stirring the tea quickly before sealing the mug.
Olivia gathered the documents she'd been examining at breakfast and shoved them in her file folder, then into her briefcase. She took her pea coat and crossed the room to stand at the door, tapping her stiletto-clad foot. She checked her watch and almost swore- 8:05.
"Dawson! This is not a game you are going to be late for school again!" Dawson hopped, once again, down the staircase and onto the landing of the stairs, her tan leather backpack strapped to her back.
"I'm ready, Mommy. Take a chill pill." Olivia laughed, incredulous.
"Who taught you chill pill?"
"Cousin Austin," Dawson shrugged. Olivia shook her head, thinking of her best friend Abby's son- Austin.
Dawson hung on to the straps of her bookbag. As Olivia locked up the house, she noticed Dawson bouncing, and grinned. She didn't even try to deny it anymore- her six-year old was the love of her life. Dawson took Olivia's hand as they walked the path toward the driveway. Dawson was in love with her backpack, Olivia noticed. Her father, Eli had bought Dawson yet another thing she didn't need- Dawson had more clothes, shoes, toys and stuff than any six-year old Olivia knew. Dawson was now a hipster-baby. Thanks to the combined efforts of her family and friends. Olivia pressed the unlock symbol on her car key. Dawson pulled the back door open and hopped up onto her car seat.
"Lovie, take your bookbag off," Olivia said, trying to avoid thinking about what time it was. Dawson shimmied out of her bag and tried to buckle herself up, but Olivia always did it for her- and checked it twice. She could never drive without making sure Dawson was secure in her seat. Olivia pulled at her lap-band and nodded, kissing her daughter on her cheek. Dawson grinned as Olivia threw her briefcase in the passenger side and lowered herself in the car, pressing the button to start the engine. Olivia quickly navigated off of their street and toward Dawson's school.
"So finish telling me about Daddy."
Dawson said, crossing her leg. Olivia looked at her in her mirror and smiled at her crossed leg.
"Daddy lives lots of places. He moves a lot for his job." Dawson crossed her arms.
"You didn't wanna move with him?" She asked, leaning over to push her small hand to her cheek.
"It's not that simple, Lovie." Olivia said slowly, mentally thanking whomever that there was little traffic on their route so far.
"Okay." Dawson said. Olivia bit her lip; she had learned enough to know that, just like her mother, it whatever it was, was absolutely not okay. Olivia wasn't answering Dawson's questions to her liking, clearly.
"How's school been, Lovie?" Olivia asked, trying to get Dawson talking. They were nearly at her school now, less than five minutes away. Olivia checked the clock on her radio; 8:18. They were making great time.
"My teacher's nice. I guess. He's really tall. And he doesn't shout like Ms. Merrymade did." Olivia pulled into her daughter's school parking lot.
"He?" Olivia asked, putting the car in park and turning to face her daughter.
"What happened to Ms. Merrymade?" Dawson uncrossed her legs.
"She moved. That's what Mr. Grant said. That she moved and that he was our teacher for the rest of the year."
Olivia raised an eyebrow.
"Okay. That's interesting." Olivia said, unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting the car. Dawson squirmed as Olivia unbuckled her car seat. Olivia carried her schoolbag in one hand and took her daughter's hand in the other.
"Are you coming to meet Mr. Grant, Mommy?"
"Yep, Lovie, I have a little time this morning. See what happens when you're early?" Dawson giggled and skipped, jiggling Olivia's arm. They entered the school, and made their way to the main office.
"Hello, Ms. Pope."
Ms. Hendricks, the secretary greeted. "You want me to take Dawson back today?"
Olivia shook her head. "Not today, Ms. Hendricks, I've got some time this morning. I wanted to meet Dawson's new teacher. When did that happen by the way?" Ms. Hendricks leaned over scandalously.
"It's the most exciting thing- Ms. Merrymade met a fella on one of those dating sites for older singles. And she up and moved to the Côte d'Azur- ver-y fancy I hear. So cute! We were lucky to find Mr. Grant. His son is in his class. And he's just recently decided to start teaching again." Olivia laughed at the gossipy Ms. Hendricks.
"Well thanks for the scoop. I better get Dawson to class. See you tomorrow!" Olivia and Dawson set off down the hallway, displays of art projects and colorful bulletin boards lined the hallways. Olivia swung their arms, to get Dawson out of her mood- the mood she always had when Olivia personally walked her to class. Dawson was a pro if Ms. Hendricks or one of the other secretaries walked her to class, but she hated leaving Olivia at her classroom door. It was always a hard separation, no matter what Olivia did.
They arrived outside of Dawson's classroom. Olivia knelt down and hugged her daughter.
"What does Mommy say?"
Olivia asked Dawson as her chin wobbled, a clear sign that she was going to cry.
Dawson grinned, showing her missing tooth.
"Never let 'em see you sweat."
"Or…?" Olivia prompted.
"Or cry. I know Mommy." Olivia smiled and kissed Dawson on her small nose.
"I know you know, Lovie. Let's get in there." Olivia stood and took Dawson's hand. Dawson pulled open the classroom door with her other hand as they stepped inside.
"Hey Dawson! How're you today?" A tall, handsome and well-dressed man met Dawson at her eye-level- an absolute challenge and greeted her.
Dawson smiled. "I'm good, Mr. Grant, this is my Mommy, she came to meet you."
Mr. Grant smiled warmly at Dawson and returned to his height, taking Dawson's mother in. Of course, to Mr. Grant that was easier said than done. To take her in meant to absorb the sight of her high cheekbones, her even, gorgeous skin, her large doe-like eyes and her pink lips. Her body was another story- accentuated by the form-fitting gray dress, with the matching suit jacket. Her legs were long, despite her small stature, and her six-inch heels were probably more alluring than she meant them to be. Mr. Grant recovered from his completely un-innocent examination of Dawson's mother and smiled, extending his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs-"
He snuck a glance at her ring finger, only to find it empty.
"Ms. Pope. Olivia Pope."
"Nice to meet you Olivia Pope. I'm Fitzgerald Grant."
Olivia smiled and lingered on Fitzgerald's face longer than was appropriate. She snapped away from his blue eyes and leaned down to Dawson.
"Lovie, I've got to go, I'll be late for work. Have a good day, okay? I love you." Olivia wrapped her arms around Dawson and squeezed, kissing her on the cheek before standing up again.
"Dawson you can go hang your coat and bag up at your cubby. Class is going to start soon."
Dawson nodded and hugged Olivia around her waist before slowly trudging off to the cubbies.
"She's great- Dawson. I've only been here a week and she's the only kid who kinda makes me sweat." Olivia grinned, admiring her daughter from afar.
"Yeah, I've definitely taught her well."
Fitzgerald laughed shortly.
Olivia checked her watch and began walking to the door, Fitzgerald followed her.
"Thanks for coming in. And have a good day." Fitzgerald said, extending his hand again. Olivia took it, warmth spreading through her body, once again. She'd been able to ignore it the first time in the presence of her daughter.
"You too, Fitzgerald."
He smiled again, his eyes sparkling, almost enchanting Olivia.
"Fitz," He said to Olivia as she pushed open the door. Olivia turned.
"Huh?" She asked.
"Fitz, call me Fitz." Olivia cleared her throat.
"Bye, Fitzgerald." Olivia let herself out of the classroom, quickly hurrying down the hall.
Talk about hot for teacher.