Sorry for such a quick turn around here, folks. As hurricane Sandy heads my way, I don't know how long I'll be out of power, and I wanted to get this up for you guys before I am plunged into the darkness ;)Thank you all for your kindness. Xo a million times. Review.
Chapter 9
"So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold on as long as you like
Just promise me that we'll be all right
But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you
And we'll live a long life"
Mumford and Sons, Ghosts That We Knew
"Aren't you excited?!" Abby squealed as Ziva slid into the passenger seat of her best friends hearse, her breath making tiny puffs in the cold air.
"Yes- I suppose I am." She replied, buckling in. She took one last look out the window where Tony was standing on the steps to their condo, waving.
"Oh, this is going to be so fun! I'm so happy you guys are getting married! I always knew you'd end up together!" Abby continued to talk at lighting speed, and it calmed some of Ziva's nerves. Going dress shopping was not something she had looked forward to at all, but Abby had convinced her it was a necessary evil.
"So?" Abby pried, pulling her put of her reverie.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Ziva asked, blushing.
"I said, we're here." Ziva looked up at the small, elegant boutique. "Oh." Was all she could muster, but they climbed out of the car. Abby loped a long arm through hers as they trudged through the snow. "Loosen up. Lets have fun, ok?"
"Okay." Ziva agreed, and they entered. It was warm inside, and smelled distinctly like Chanel no 5, the perfume her mother used to wear. This put her at ease as Abby approached the woman at the counter. They began to look at the racks, and Ziva became instantly overwhelmed. Frills and lace and puffy skirts and flowers were not her thing. Abby could sense her change in mood and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's a lot, huh?" She asked kindly, smiling softly.
Ziva nodded. "Yes. I have never been good at shopping and this is... Not familiar to me. I do not know where to start."
"Well," Abby drawled. "What do you have in mind? Have you looked at any pictures?"
Ziva closed her eyes and thought about her own mothers wedding dress. Lace sleeves and a tight bodice, a full skirt that flowed at the waist. Initially she had thought about asking Eli for it, but had been informed by her Aunt Nettie that he had thrown it away years ago.
"Something simple, perhaps? Nothing too fancy, but-"
"Still elegant. Got it. Here- why don't you sit down and I'll pull a few things for you?"
Ziva looked at her skeptically. Abby smirked. "I know, no spikes or skeletons or black dresses. I'll be good, I promise."
Ziva sat down and thought about the oddity of this situation. Even as a little girl, she never saw herself settling down, getting married. Perhaps it was because she associated her own parents crumbling marriage with the institution as whole. As they would yell and accuse and point fingers, Ziva would huddle under the covers of her bed with Tali wrapped around her, a cocoon of peace in a household at war. But here she was, picking out a wedding dress in a fancy boutique in Georgetown without her mother, sister or daughter.
"Ready to try these on?" Abby asked excitedly, interrupting her daydream.
"Yes." Ziva said dazedly, and they followed the attendant to a back room.
The attendant was an older woman with gray hair, bright blue eyes and a kind smile.
"Would you like me or your friend to help you into a dress?" She asked, her long red fingernails tap tap tapping the doorframe. Ziva gulped. She didn't like people to see her naked, or close to it. Her body bore scars from years of battle and torture, and it made her very self-conscious. Her back was the worst, littered with the faded marks of cuts and stabs and whips and cigarettes. "I'll be fine." She decided and headed into the stall, head down.
The first few picks were beautiful, but not her. They didn't fit right and she felt plain, vulnerable even in such exquisite clothing.
"Try this next." Abby ordered, pointing to a hanger.
As she zipped it up, Ziva began to smile appreciatively. It was strapless, with delicate, lacy fabric and a silky, crème colored sash. It flowed just enough to give it body, but not too much to swallow her petite frame. She could feel tears forming as she walked out of the dressing room to where Abby was waiting. Her face lit up, and she began to cry too.
"Oh Ziva! You look... Stunning! Like a real beautiful bride!" She gushed, rushing forward to embrace her. "This is it. You have to get it. Tony's going to faint at the altar."
Ziva grins wide and looks at herself in the full-length mirror. She feels good about her body for the first time in years, and she can just see herself in this on her wedding day.
...
A thousand dollars, a glass of champagne and a hearse ride later, Ziva turns her key in the lock to find Tony on the couch, feet on the coffee table.
"Hey sweet cheeks!" He called, jumping up to kiss her on the mouth. "Did you find anything?"
She smiles. "Yes. And you cannot see it, so don't even ask. It's at the tailors."
He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout.
"Please?"
"Nope."
"Not even if I do the dishes and my laundry?"
She laughs. "Not even then."
He huffs lightly. "Fine. Then you can't see my snake skin tux."
Ziva raises her eyebrows. "If you actually wore that to the wedding, you know I would kill you on the spot."
"You don't want to show Sarah that kind of violence." He teases, but her face falls, heart heavy.
"No. I am glad she was raised away from all the violence I experienced as a child. It would not have been healthy." She wavers candidly. They plop back down on the couch and Ziva rests her head on his chest and wraps an arm around his waist. They sit in comfortable, warm silence for a few minutes, breathing deeply.
"Where should we go for our honeymoon?" He asks, kissing the top of her head. He wants to lighten the mood, lift her spirits.
She looks up at him. "Someplace warm and tropical and secluded."
"So Hawaii? Fiji? Or the Virgin Islands?"
"Let's go somewhere neither of us have ever been." She decides.
"Well I've been to Hawaii, but you might not want to count that out. It's really beautiful."
Ziva thinks about this, but shakes her head. "Everyone goes to Hawaii for their honeymoon. We can go another time."
"Okay." He agrees easily, happy at the thought of traveling all over the world with his wife to be.
"Let's go to Fiji." She decides. "It sounds lovely."
Tony grins. "I can live with that. Should we be nudists?"
Ziva jabs him lightly in the stomach with her elbow. "No thank you. I think we should lie on the beach and get massages and drink tropical drinks."
"Even better. But there will be some nudity, right...?"
"You are disgusting." She laughs. For the first time in months, years even, she feels hopeful and free.
"But you love me."
She sighs dramatically, and kisses him. "Yes. I love you very much."
"Okay, then don't get mad at me for this, but… I don't think it's so healthy for you to be talking on the phone with Sarah every day. For either of you. I mean, not that you shouldn't talk to her at all, but every time after you talk to her you're sad and depressed and I just think both of you need space to process your new relationship. You've got to set boundaries, Zi."
She pulls away quickly and stands, breathing hard. Her eyes are fire and she feels vulnerable, betrayed even.
"Do not tell me what to do. I am her mother- I have a right to talk to her whenever I want-"
"But that's the point, Ziva. Chana's her mom. And she called me, telling me that she wanted to limit the calls to once a week." He stands up so they are eye to eye, his palms facing upwards.
Ziva shakes her head, sad and utterly lonely. "That is ridiculous. She has no right! I waited twelve long years to even know my baby's name, and now she wants to take the relationship we are trying to rebuild away from me! And you! You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to help her keep Sarah away from me!" Her tone is acid, but her breathing is erratic as she fights tears and a panic attack.
"We're not trying to keep you away from her, but you need boundaries so you can both get on with your lives in a productive way! Chana says Sarah waits by the phone all afternoon and can't focus on her work!"
Ziva's nostrils flare, and her stomach flips as her heart clenches. "Are you calling me a bad influence?"
"No! I just-"
"Don't finish. I don't want to hear it." She decides, and shoves him hard back onto the couch, and runs out the door. She ignores him calling after her, and runs. She runs past the elementary school and the church and the stores and into the woods. It is sleeting now, but she can barely feel anything. Ziva shakes with the weight of her sobs, dropping to her knees and trying to gulp cold, harsh air into her burning lungs. She feels empty, betrayed, and utterly alone.
"It's not fair!" She bellows, her words echoing off the trees. "It's not fair!"
She cries so hard she makes herself sick in the damp wood, heaving violently with the weight of her grief. She does not answer Tony's calls, simply shoves her phone back in her pocket and trudges back to the main road, dull and shivering. She does not want to go back home, or to Gibbs, or Abby's. She wants to curl up in bed with Sarah and read a book. She wants to laugh on the beach with Tali and hug her mother and tell Ari just how much he meant to her. She walks for hours, ignoring the throbbing in her fingertips and the wetness of her breathing rattling in her chest. And when she can walk to more, she lies down on a park bench and looks at the stars in the black sky.
…
Ziva moans as she regains consciousness. Her throat is parched and her whole body aches, and her stomach is on fire. She pries her eyes open to find Eli standing at the end of her bed, watching her with disdain. Ziva's heart pounds and she looks for her baby. "Where is my daughter?" She croaks as she sees the plastic bassinet next to her bed is empty.
"I gave her up for adoption." He says simply, unimpressed.
Ziva's eyes widen in disbelief, her stomach twisting in knots. "You cant do that." She warbles, struggling amongst the pillows to sit up.
"I can, and I did. You are both better off without each other."
"Where is she!?" Ziva demands, frantic.
He shakes his head and opens the newspaper.
"Where is my daughter?" She cries again, louder this time.
"She is not yours." Eli says calmly, licking his finger to turn a page.
Her heart beats in her chest and she feels frantic, lost, ill.
Her cries and shouts summon the nurses. They have to restrain her to keep her in bed and someone pushes a needle into her IV and her eyelids droop. Grief and indignation and anger threaten to swallow her whole.
