Of Mistletoe And Christmas Carols
Two : Where The Lovelight Gleams
It takes all of five minutes for everyone to come around to the idea of Christmas karaoke; even Astrid has signed up for a round of Jingle Bells. Peter, Olivia and Elizabeth quickly escape to the kitchen just as the opening lines of Frosty the Snowman reach their ears, accompanied by a chorus of spirited voices.
"Well, that was embarrassing." Peter states flatly as he looks at Olivia, speaking for the both of them. Her cheeks are flushed, a residual blush from Walter's little announcement lingering in her complexion. She nods in agreement as Elizabeth laughs and sets down two plates of chocolate cake on the kitchen island where the three of them have gathered around.
"Oh, humor him," She smiles brightly. "Walter's just a little excited and I must say, so am I."
"We know, Mom." Peter tells her as he digs in, having waited all year long for his mother's special Christmas chocolate cake. Across the table, Olivia does the same. Elizabeth watches them fondly, the way she always does when they do something that mimics their actions as children.
"First grandchild and all that," Peter adds after downing about half a slice.
"Yes, this little one's been a long time coming." His mother smiles with a hint of excitement in her eyes as she places two glasses of milk on the table, her way of telling Peter to slow down. He catches the message and shoots her a boyish smile before gobbling down the rest of his serving. Olivia, who's only just gotten halfway through, pushes her plate to Peter. He shakes his head with a smile and pushes it back.
"You've got to eat now, Liv. Can't deprive the little Bishop of chocolate. That would just be mean." Olivia is just about to form a protest when Elizabeth squeaks out a tiny 'oh', causing both of them to turn their attention to her.
"It's just," Elizabeth smiles sheepishly, her eyes suspiciously bright. "You're calling her Bishop." Olivia suppresses the urge to roll her eyes; she's only seven weeks along but everyone insists the baby is a girl. She'd gone through some of the Bishop/Bishoff family trees with Peter a few days ago and had pointed out that there hasn't been a Bishop girl for five generations, but Peter had simply smiled and said something along the lines of when do we ever go with the flow? And so it was decided that she's carrying a baby girl.
And then Elizabeth's words sink in and she blurts out a question before she can even think it through. "Of course she's a Bishop. What else would we call her?"
Peter grins triumphantly at Olivia's subconscious acceptance of the baby being a girl and turns to his mother, waiting for her answer. Truthfully, he's quite puzzled too. Their baby being a Bishop seems like a given.
"Dunham?" Elizabeth supplies promptly. "It's just… I know people in your situation, Olive, and some of them… well, they end up giving their children their own names."
"My situation?" Olivia quotes curiously. Blood rushes to Elizabeth's cheeks, tainting her skin a shade that even Peter has never seen before. His mother does not blush. It is simply the way of things.
Finally, she speaks up although her eyes remain fixed over Peter's shoulder, on the wall where a tile has been chipped.
"Unmarried."
"Oh." Olivia breathes, taken aback. Peter almost groans out loud.
Thanks, mom.
"No, no, it's not a bad thing!" Elizabeth hastily explains herself. "I'm not condemning you and this family… well, we're far from traditional or anything of the sort. Walter and I are perfectly fine with this. We were just… concerned. About the baby." She finally meets Olivia's eyes and smiles reassuringly. "Everything is perfect, Olivia. We're alright with this, we really are."
Olivia nods with a strained smile but Peter can tell that the more his mother speaks, the more she doubts her words. It's not that she thinks Elizabeth is lying, simply that his mother is now bringing to light a whole can of worms that they hadn't even realized existed.
So he gets up from his chair and crosses the room to Olivia's side, helping her out of her chair. "It's okay, Mom. We know you're okay with us. 'Livia just gets tired sometimes."
He sounds perfectly pleasant, with a smile to boot, but his eyes, hidden from Olivia and fixed on his mother's, beg her to just let them go. She hesitates before nodding just once and he exhales in relief.
"C'mon, sweetheart, let's get you away before they start with Rudolph." He teases as he supports Olivia, referring to the singing that's still going on in the main part of the house.
For once, Olivia doesn't put up a fight and allows Peter to lead her away, stopping only to flash a small smile at Elizabeth. "She's your granddaughter, Aunt Elizabeth. A part of the family. I would never take that away from you."
Elizabeth smiles as her eyes swim with tears. "Thank you." She says, sounding choked up. Olivia nods and with one last smile, she lets Peter walk her out of the kitchen. Elizabeth watches as they leave, presumably to hide upstairs. She remains in the kitchen, leaning against a counter for support as she tries to compose herself. Walter barges in a few moments later.
"Oh, Elizabeth, you must join us for-" He comes to an abrupt stop when he notices his wife's present state and quickly crosses the room. "What's wrong, dear?" His eyebrows furrow in concern as two hands come to rest on her arms.
She shakes her head and smiles brightly at her husband. "Oh, Walter," She sighs happily. "She's a Bishop. She's going to be a Bishop."
"Olivia?" Walter exclaims excitedly, his smile growing to match hers. Elizabeth briefly considers correcting him but she just knows it's only a matter of time.
"And the baby." She nods.
"This is wonderful news!" Walter announces with a laugh, engulfing her in a hug. "Wonderful news! This is the best Christmas ever!"
"At last!" Peter exclaims with exaggerated relief as he shuts the door behind him, leaving them in isolated peace and quiet.
"My head was pounding." Olivia agrees with a grimace, sitting down on Peter's old bed. He settles in next to her and turns to her with concerned eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me, Olivia?" He chides, wrapping an arm around her to pull her closer as she rests her head on his shoulder.
Olivia sighs contentedly and closes her eyes. "It was nothing," She claims dismissively. "It's already going away."
"If you say so," Peter mumbles into her hair, trying to quell his concern. Olivia nods and they lapse into silence, both unsure of what else to say when they're so blatantly avoiding a subject. They've never been big on words, really – sure, they could spend entire afternoons talking to each other about their hopes and dreams and fears and nightmares, but they're equally comfortable just sitting together in silence. Or they usually are, anyway. Peter decides that this awkward silence is just ridiculous and decides to broach the subject.
"So… I guess we're officially living in sin." He jokes nervously, earning himself an amused chuckle.
"What would the neighbors say?" Olivia mocks in a scandalized gasp. She shifts and moves away from Peter to look him in the eyes.
"You knew though, right? You knew I would never have done that to you." She says firmly, because he should have known, he should know, that she would never do that to him. To them. She knows why single mothers give their babies their names. Protection. Insurance. If anything ever goes wrong, at least they won't lose their children. And this may sound naïve and childish and just plain stupid, but she doesn't believe she'll ever need insurance against Peter. Yes, there might come a day when for whatever impossible reason, they're not dying to spend every last second together; a day when they would willingly give this – them – up. But she and Peter are more than a couple, or lovers, or anything a usual pair would be labeled. She's known Peter since she was eight. He's been her friend, her rock, her anchor, her partner, her everything. And she's done her best to be there for him at every turn. The bond that they have – it doesn't just go away. It doesn't go away, period. She knows it and Peter knows it and so she really, really hopes he hasn't spent the last month secretly worrying about her denying their child his name.
Peter smiles softly, the kind of smile she's only ever seen him use with her, and nods as he brings one hand up to cup her cheek. She places her own over his, assuring herself that of course Peter knows, of course Peter understands.
"I know." He says simply. "I know you would never do that to me, or my mom, or Walter." He leans in closer, one hand still holding her eyes in place so that they don't waver from his own. "And I also know," He gulps softly, a motion that she shouldn't have noted but does, because she sees everything when it comes to him. And then he speaks and his nervousness makes sense as everything falls into place. "That we're forever, Olivia."
Forever is a word they haven't used in a long time. When they were small, they used to think that they could hide away from the world forever. He wouldn't have to face his mother's bad days and she wouldn't have to face the monster she called her stepfather, and he wouldn't have to sit through Walter's experiments and she wouldn't have to work so, so hard just to keep the people around her alive. They would just hide, in that field of white tulips, forever.
And then they grew up and they realized that things change, life happens, people die – nothing is forever.
Except them. Peter and Olivia. Time and time again, they've beaten the odds. He was supposed to die but he didn't. She was supposed to be kept away but she wasn't. They were supposed to be separated but they weren't. He left her but then he came back. She pushed him away but then she let him in. And somehow, twenty-odd years later, they're still those two kids, in a white tulip field, sitting in a patch of scorched grass as they stare at the moon, somehow – inexplicably, impossibly, irrevocably – linked. And she can't see them ever being anything else. They're forever, they really are.
"I want to be with you every day of my life. I want to wake up with you and go to sleep with you. I want to spend every moment in between with you, and live with you, and raise babies with you, and grow old with you. I want you forever, 'Livia."
She wants to cry because even years after everyone had stopped calling her a freak and the Bishops had given her a normal life, she'd never envisioned this for herself. She went to school and became an agent and she saw her whole life ahead of her, early mornings and late nights and protecting people and being lonely. And here he is, this perfectly imperfect man, who drives her crazy and pushes her too far and knows all the worst parts of her, who wants to live with her and build a family with her and die with her, and even then it won't be the end because they're forever.
He studies her, takes in every last detail of the way her eyes swim with tears and her breathing hitches irregularly like a sob has blocked her throat and her lips quiver with hesitation and being overwhelmed and he knows, he just knows – not now. Someday, but not now.
"Plus I really, really want you to make an honest man out of me." He jokes with his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against hers, and she laughs until it almost sounds like a cry of relief.
She surprises him; she always does.
"Yes." She states so confidently, so powerfully that he pulls back immediately and gapes at her. She laughs and cups his face in her hands, keeping his eyes on hers. "Yes, I'll make an honest man out of you." She grins and it's infectious, and before he knows it they're both laughing and crying and holding onto each other for dear life.
Finally, they settle down and catch their breath, eyes shining with joy and adoration and love and he holds her close because this is it, he gets to keep her and make her laugh and love her.
He gets to marry her, only they haven't discussed that part yet.
And suddenly it's all wrong.
"So…" She speaks just as his mind starts racing a hundred miles a minute, pulling away to shoot him a smile. "We're…" She can't say it, can't get the word engaged past her lips because damn it, he's messed up again.
"No," He shakes his head resolutely, hastily explaining himself before she can feel hurt. "Not this way, 'Livia. I've already messed up so much and you deserve better. This time, I'm doing it right. I promise you I will, just not now, not like this, not because my mother brought it up and we decided what the heck."
She studies him for a brief moment and nods. "Okay." She says casually, simply.
"Okay?" He breathes incredulously. She smiles and laughs softly, reaching for his hand.
"Okay." She repeats confidently before elaborating. "I know you need this, Peter. I would be fine just making it official right here, right now but it wouldn't be right. And I trust you to get it right so… okay."
He surprises her by crashing his lips to hers, pulling her back to him and holding her in place by her waist. She brings her hands up and links them at the back of his neck, clinging to him as he chuckles into their kiss.
"What?" She pulls away, sounding amused. He smiles and keeps his arms wrapped around her waist, seemingly studying her for a few seconds before speaking up.
"You amaze me." He confesses and she smiles, ducking her head and resting it against his chest.
"I love you." She sighs happily because there is nothing else to say, and he pulls back to tilt her head up and capture her lips with his once more.
They don't go back down to the party.
Luckily, Walter is too occupied singing Jingle Bell Rock for the fourth time to notice.
So this one's for all of you Polivia people, especially amynoemi. I'm sorry, sweetie! Polivia makes me suffer too, making me wait to see where they're going! They just took their time with this chapter. Let's hope they hurry up with the next one; it's the last.
The title is a line from I'll Be Home For Christmas and was chosen because I had no other what else to pick, basically. And it seemed fitting… sort of.
As usual, reviews and thoughts are much appreciated and will keep me warm this winter now that I've run out of hot chocolate.
E Salvatore,
December 2012.