Disclaimer: I don't own 'Scandal'.
Chapter 2
Fix You
(24 hours earlier)
Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
Tears stream down your face
And I…
Tears stream down your face
I promise I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I…
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Fix You - Coldplay
Camille smiled into her cereal as she thought about the start of her summer vacation. No teachers or schoolwork to think about for three glorious months.
She was sitting across the kitchen table from her mom, munching down on corn flakes as her mom sipped on her morning black coffee. Camille smiled transformed into a cheeky grin as she began thinking about her immediate shopping trip with her best friend, Jessica Clarke, when she looked up to see her mom also smiling in a kind of dreamlike state.
"What you looking so pleased about?" Camille asked.
"Oh, nothing sweetie, just woke up feeling good about us spending quality time together over the summer months," Olivia replied, happily.
"Except it's my summer vacation and you're still working."
"I told you, I'm going to DC for three days, then I'm back and I'm all yours - I promise," she said, defensively, clearing her throat. Camille raised an eyebrow.
"You promise?" she mocked.
"Yes, yes, yes, I get it. I never make promises, but this time it's different. I've planned a big surprise for you this summer. I - it's gonna be good." Olivia seemed unsure as though she was trying to convince herself as well as Camille.
Camille narrowed her eyes, because her mom really wasn't the type to do promises; and something about her mom's statement was a little off.
"Don't be so suspicious all the time," Olivia said.
Camille shrugged and went back to her cereal; maybe her mom was right maybe she was over thinking things. After all Olivia was just going on one of her many business trips to Washington DC and there was nothing extraordinary about that. Since she was a baby, Camille was used to not seeing her mom for large periods of time due to her work. Camille looked up from her bowl when she heard Olivia start humming absently-mindedly. She casually observed her mom and a pair of warm luminous brown eyes looked back at her. Camille broke out into a crocked smile. She noticed Olivia's smile fade slightly and her breath hitched. Finally, she broke eye contact with her daughter.
Camille's heart slightly sank. She knew that look too well. Her mom was thinking about him and it made her silently mad. Camille wondered how a clever woman like her mother could allow one man - just one man - to reduce her to a quivering wreck. Olivia tried to conceal her feelings when it came to him, but not from Camille, who could read her mom's raw emotions. In fact her observational skill was something Olivia would comment on and often told Camille what an asset she would have been to her when she ran Olivia Pope & Associates.
In 2004 Olivia established OPA and operated as one of the most successful and sought-after crisis managers in her field. Her clients list included politicians, corporate folk, celebrities, as well as the ordinary Joe on the street. No matter what their status or profile, they all had one thing in common: they wanted fixing. And when you were having one of the worse days of your life, your best 'get out of jail card' was Olivia Pope and her formidable team of associates, who referred to themselves as Gladiators. Her career was legendary, just asked the man she made President - Camille's father - Fitzgerald Grant III.
Olivia never hid the truth from Camille regarding her father, and from an early age she knew he was a busy man with lots of important responsibilities that included looking after millions of Americans as state governor and then as president of the country between 2004 and 2012.
In the beginning, listening to her mother's stories made her view her father as though he was a super hero: protecting people from harm and making their lives better. She felt so excited and full of pride. Yet the same time Camille was confused by his absence and kept asking her mom why she couldn't meet and be with her dad like other children. It didn't help when she would see the occasional television footage of him with his other children: hugging and kissing them and declaring to the world how much of a family man he was.
Of course, Olivia understood her confusion and tried her best to explain that her father loved them both in his own special way. But a long time ago, before she had met Camille's father and she had been born, he had made a promise to his first family, and he was bound to keep that promise. So although he loved Olivia and Camille, they had to keep his love secret. But moms and dads are supposed to love and care for all their children, thought Camille, and if he loved them so much why would he want to keep them both a secret?
Four years later when Olivia made the decision quit OPA and hang up her goody-two-shoes 'white hat' and transferred her business into the hands of former District Attorney-turned-Gladiator Davis Rosen, Olivia said it had all been a part of her long-term strategy: to build a successful business, move on and spend more time with her daughter.
Camille was thrilled when her mom decided to quit OPA and be with her full-time. Much as she loved living with her 'Uncle Stephen' and 'Auntie Georgina' nothing could beat living with her mom, and for the first few months Camille was the happiest little girl on the planet. However their being back together soon took a nightmare turn.
Olivia and Camille had been moving around for a time and one of their pit-stops had been London. They had been living in the city for a month or so and it was a typical day. Camille had just had lunch and was sitting on the sofa in their living room, playing some made-up game with her dolls with the television on in the background. Olivia soon came in, ruffled her daughter's hair, and sat down beside her on the sofa. She began aimlessly flicking through the TV channels when she gasped out loud and froze. Camille instantly looked up at her mom, and followed her dumbstruck face to the screen. And there he was - her father. He was standing on the White House lawn proudly holding his newborn son, Teddy, and next to him stood his beautiful wife. Camille called her mom but it was like she wasn't there. The remote control slipped from Olivia's hand and went crashing to the floor as she tore out of the room in floods of tears. Camille jumped down from the sofa, and ignoring her scattering dolls, sped after her mom, asking her what was wrong. But Olivia just ran up the stairs, straight into her bedroom; and slammed the door in a distraught Camille's face.
Tearfully Camille slumped to the floor outside her mom's bedroom door in a state of shock. She began repeatedly knocking and begging her mom to open the door so she could see she was okay, because she was scared. But all she heard were the creaking floorboards from her mom's constant pacing in circles - a trait of hers, indicating something was wrong – and finally, total silence.
For the next six months Olivia fell into this pattern of behavior: locking herself away when her heartbreak over Fitz was too painful to bear. Camille was in pieces over her mom's unhappiness. She was confused as to why all of a sudden her mom was so sad about her dad. He must have done something bad, she thought. Or maybe she had? Maybe being his daughter was a bad thing. At times Camille wanted to call her uncle or aunt for their help, and on one occasion she felt desperate enough to want to contact her father. But deep down in her gut, the little girl held back, sensing that her mom's funny behavior wasn't something she should be sharing with anyone else. So she kept quiet.
Instead, Camille came up with her own coping mechanism. She would sit outside her mom's bedroom door constantly telling Olivia how sorry she was for making her sad and list all the nice things she would do to make her mom not be upset with her. Sometimes she would press her body up against the bedroom door with her arms outstretched and tell her mom she was giving her a big hug. But it didn't make a difference: Olivia remained closed off to her daughter.
Camille developed a habit of drawing pictures she called: Smile at My Picture. Taking her colored pens and pencils, she would draw images of herself and Olivia, family members, and friends. Sandwiched between the images she would write messages like: 'my special mom' and 'I love you'. She would create numerous drawings and neatly pile then up one on top of the other, and finally, she would carefully push each individual picture under the bedroom door. She'd then sit patiently by the door and wait and wait…and wait. Sometimes Camille would be sitting outside the door for so long, by the time Olivia was ready to come out, Camille would be fast asleep, and Olivia would have to carry her to bed.
As suddenly as Olivia's mood appeared, it disappeared, and she was back to her old self. She spent the following weeks apologizing profusely to Camille about her odd behavior. She fussed over her daughter spoiling her with new clothes, games, books, and toys. She expressed her gratitude to Camille for all her wonderful drawings, and now, whenever she felt sad, she would look at Camille's pictures to feel better because her drawings were like medicine. Olivia even brought a beautiful wooden box to keep the pictures safe. Discovering her daughter's artistic side, Olivia arranged for Camille to attend art classes and on the weekends they'd visited community art studios and make clay mugs and plates - to feed her daughter's new interest.
Olivia sat Camille down and carefully explained that because of the love she felt for her father, being away from him was sometimes so unbearable, that she found it difficult to be around anyone. But Camille must remember her father was a good man and he'd made a lot of sacrifices in his life to 'be the great man he was destined to be' and she shouldn't think too badly or blame him for Olivia's recent behavior.
Camille accepted her mom's apologies and treated her to plenty of warm cuddles and kisses. However it was too late, concerning how Camille felt about her father. Regardless of Olivia's assurances, Camille connected her mom's sadness directly to him, and any good feelings she had about her dad had slowly evaporated over the months her mom was locking herself away. She feared bringing up anything to do with him would trigger her mom's sadness, so she stopped talking about him and became monosyllabic whenever Olivia brought his name up.
Over the coming years she stopped thinking about Fitz as her father, which wasn't much of a challenge seeing as they'd never meet. It helped that - thanks to her mom's close friendship with Stephen and only long-term boyfriend, Jake Ballard - she enjoyed the influence of positive male roles models in her life. So she didn't believe she was missing out on not knowing Fitzgerald Grant III.
Looking up from her cereal at she suddenly felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest and she was breathing a little too quickly, so took a couple of deep breaths. She closed her index and middle fingers together to rub her right eye, and swept both fingers across her eyebrow in a rhythmical motion – a childhood habit to indicate she was angry, tired, or both. Right now she was angry.
Fuming her mother was too stuck on him, and at times it made her want to shake some sense into her. What was so darn special about him? He reminded Camille of the spoilt preppy boys at her school who walked around with a sense of their own importance and entitlement. He'd probably woken up one day and decided he wanted to be president and with the click of his fingers it happened. Just. Like. That.
Camille turned her attention back to Olivia and watched as she drained the last of her now lukewarm coffee, and got up to place her cup in the sink. She turned back quickly, and caught Camille still staring at her.
'What?" Olivia asked in her trademark abrupt manner, but she was smiling in good humor. Camille shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.
"Nothing," she mumbled into her half eaten cereal.
Olivia's shoulders slumped slightly. Maybe Camille was more disappointed about her latest work trip than she originally let on, she thought.
'I know this isn't exactly the ideal way for us to start your summer vacation." Olivia began. "But I'm going to make it up to you."
"Mom, it's fine. You're only gone for a couple of days and I've got my class tomorrow, and Jessie and I are going shopping at Woodbury for her Hawaii trip. Anyway, it's not the first time you've left me to fend for myself," she joked at her mom.
Camille knew Olivia felt reassured that she would be staying with her best friend. Camille met Jessica Clarke when she enrolled at Millwood a private school in Manhattan. Due to the academic progress Camille had made as a result of being home schooled she had been allowed to skip a year. However there were concerns her young age would mean she'd find it hard to make new friends. But from the moment Jessica picked Camille to join her team during gym class the two girls immediately bonded, and the year age gap was never an issue. Jessica and her family also lived a few doors away from Olivia and Camille, which allowed the girls spend a lot of their free time together and enjoy a close friendship.
"We'll have a good summer," Olivia said casually, but it came out a little forced. "I'll be back before you know it."
'Yes, Mom, you worry too much," she answered, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. Clearing the rest of her breakfast away, Olivia smiled at her daughter.
"I worry, that's my job, so sue me."
Camille finished her last mouthful of cereal and also took it to the sink and started washing up.
"Why don't you stick them in the dishwasher," Olivia suggested, looking at her watch. Her flight was in three hours and she needed to get a move on.
"No point, there's only a few things; plus no-one's gonna be here for the next couple of days," she replied running hot and cold-water taps. She reached for the washing- up liquid on the window ledge and pouring some of the thick green liquid onto the dishcloth, started washing up the few cups, bowls and plates from breakfast.
Olivia was smiling casually at Camille, taking in her daughter's smooth light caramel skin and her masses of dark curly brown hair with lighter brown streaks that hung down passed her shoulders, although today it was held in an untidy bun with a scrunchie. People actually thought she dyed her hair.
'You know how much I love you don't you?" Olivia said softly.
'I know. I love you too."
"My life has always been so complicated, but you're the one thing that's always made perfect sense. I hope to make up for all the times I haven't been around because of work or …' her voice faltered slightly as she studied her daughter's reaction carefully. She reached out to sweep back a loose curl behind her ear that had escaped from Camille's bun, and felt her daughter's body stiffen slightly. Camille began washing the cutlery, before turning off the both taps and wiping down the excess water and suds. Olivia knew if she so much as mentioned the 'F' word her daughter would shut down. It pained her, because she had to take a lot of the responsibility for Camille's attitude.
Reaching for a towel hanging on the sink door, Camille began drying her wet hands.
"I'm not gonna lie, I haven't had the most conventional upbringing, but I put that down to having a pretty special mom."
Olivia smiled broadly at Camille. Sometimes she could just burst with how much joy her gorgeous daughter had brought into her life. Out of the pain of the last few years she had been blessed with this precious gift. She slipped her arm around her daughter's waist and gave her a warm embrace.
"You are the best, do you know that?" she declared. "I just want you to be happy."
"Come on, soppy, let's go," laughed Camille.
"Yep - let's go." And mother and daughter set about collecting their bags and locking up the house. Walking down the concrete steps towards Olivia's car, Camille waited as her mom packed her suitcase into the car truck, and come back to rejoin her. They then walked together towards Jessica's house.
"You got all your pads, pencils and books for your class tomorrow?"
Camille nodded, and shifted her overnight bag more securely onto her shoulder.
'Yeah, I've got my homework with me," she said, knowing her mom had no real interest in her obsession with the arts. "Is that my surprise?" she mocked. "Are you taking me the Lourve in Paris?"
Olivia laughed.
"Why are you teasing me?"
"Because…"
"Because what?"
"Because I know how much it burns you that I'm not pouring over books on American history and politics. And I'm more tuned into MTV than CNN."
"Cam," began Olivia in mock defense. "I've always encouraged you to pursue your dreams. But you know if you ever did feel like talking about The Constitution or Tort Law, I'm your girl - that's all I'm saying."
And they both burst out laughing. As soon as they arrived at Jessica's front door it opened immediately, and when Camille saw her best friend, the two girls squealed, and she eagerly ran up the steps. Soon they were both embracing each other and chatting away excitedly. Olivia followed behind Camille, and Jessica broke off her conversation, for a millisecond, to say 'hello' to Olivia who returned the greeting, as she passed her to step inside and speak with Jessica's mom Leticia, who had just appeared in the wide hallway. The two woman discussed Olivia's trip and what the girls would be up to for the next few days. Olivia confirmed her contact numbers and arrival time back home. She turned to Camille to say a final goodbye.
"You look after yourself and behave - no rowdy behavior - I know what you and Jess are like when you get together," she scolded gently.
"Yes, Mom, love you too."
Mother and daughter looked at each other and smiled that knowing smile when you understand and love someone completely.
"Come here," Olivia, insisted, and they embraced in a long warm hug.
"And while I'm gone, stop growing," she joked, looking at her daughter at eye level.
"Aah, you worried I'm out growing you, shorty?"
"Okay, I've been mocked enough by you today - I'm gone. Love you. Love you. Love you."
"Love you too. Call me when you get to DC so I know you got there safe, okay?" Camille insisted.
"I always do, sweetie." She gave her daughter a last quick kiss and said goodbye to Jessica and Leticia.
Camille watched Olivia descend down the steps and as she reached the last step she turned back and mother and daughter gave each a smile and a final wave goodbye.
