Notes:
Re-beta'd and cut a little.
Big Thankyou to everyone who's still with this! Playing around with this is so hard but I love it! I have a near-week off coming from Thursday. ANd Yes, hopefully it'll be mainly spent writing about these two lovely morons and continuing with all the loose ends I've left lately.
Chapter Ten.
For Donna, picking a dress over forty was ...challenging to say the least.
And it's not that she doesn't look great in one, on the contrary, consistent yoga in her twenties until now has finally done it's job over the years.
It's what it, the dress,represents.
A lack of longevity. A Second Time…
Doing it all over again...
She'd never been in a rush to get married. Even the first time. And she supposed before that, that when and if she did, that it would be forever. Final. Like great leather shoes and or an LBD.
Turns out...she was more naive than even the trigger happy shotgun brides…
Now, she thought she's already found the perfect dress.
The Galia Lahav. Mark Ingram Atelier. An appointment that took her an arm and a leg just to nail a meeting with them.
"What do you think?" The sales assistant asks, looking at her cheerily.
She hadn't told anyone she was going to a second fitting.
Not Rachel.
Not her Mom.
Not even Cassie.
God knows, not even her sister.
In all honesty she didn't want the roadblocks. Her mother's awkward questions. Her intuitive daughter hitting a nerve. Rachel holding back her keen eye and tastefully level perspectives. Her sister's...well.
She's still ignoring the fact that she's even standing here.
She looks in the mirror; admiring the silk charmeuse and graceful pleats that drape to the floor.
She doens't even glance at the designer.
But it's simple.
It's Elegant.
Refined.
Perfect, it seems.
So, it's a taker. Like so many things in her life.
The Trouble really starts,
With two parents.
Both utterly and separately in love with their daughter.
A daughter, who's somehow not waiting to be picked up from school today.
And a father,
In an all too sobering situation...
Harvey's hands are sweating as he reaches for his phone; a strange tension in his stomach that he suspects is akin to worry.
He flips through the phone to find her number; like he's dialing a stranger as his eyes roam up and down the street.
"Hey Harvey. Everything okay?" The familiar voice says on the other end. It's momentarily soothing, despite things.
"Donna, Cassie's not at school." He blurts out, swallowing; his face looking to Ray next to him as he sidles up to the front of the car.
"What?" He hears hey say down the other end, a slight crack in her usual telephone manner. "What do you mean? Did you check with reception?" She asks.
"Yeah they say that she left with all the other children." He sighs.
"Well, were you not there waiting for her?" He hears the alarm rise in her voice.
He sighs, mentally swearing at himself. "I was in traffic, Donna." He argues.
"Harvey, she could be anywhere by now!" Her voice peels with indifference towards him; a pressured anger in the back of her throat that he can almost visualise the shape of.
"Donna," He says gruffly, trying to abate her rising panic. "I'll find her." He says, putting down the phone.
He knows it's a rash decision but her yelping on the phone isn't going to solve anything. With any luck she'll call the police right away.
He sits for a moment, his mind unfocused, and overly alert.
Where would the world's weirdest kid go, if she could go anywhere?
Within a fifteen minute walking distance. Or taking the bus.
He stalks whites walls and coloured drops at a pace; darting past the clean line sculptures and wandering doscents; scouring the large puddles of children ; all various ages and obviously on school trips that have over run their usual shedules..
Luckily, the Guggenheim was close enough. She had to be here, he thinks, pacing through into the exhibit they'd been to: Kandinsky.
He can almost see a painted picture in his head; her, standing there, looking innocent and curious until she spots him.
His heart is hammering in his chest when he enters the large gallery room.
She's not here.
He's lost their child.
He lets out a heavy huff, trying to calm himself as he makes his way back to Ray, who's parked out front.
"Any sign?" Ray asks him as he slides into the back with a huff.
"Nothing. I told the museum to keep an eye out. They're going to call if they find anything." He says, flipping open the phone once more; his fingers scrolling through the log of previous calls.
It's calming, seeing her name, as he presses the phone to redial. He surmises that hearing her voice, might not be quite as soothing.
"Any sign of her?" Donna immediately asks through the phone.
"No. I checked the Museum. Central Park." He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where else, Donna?"
"I've checked the park by our house. I've called her friend's parents. No one's heard anything, and no one remember's her leaving. I called the school. They say that she just...slipped out when the bell rang. I told them they'd be hearing from my lawyer." She adds bluntly.
"Yeah, I'll on that...look." He says, a pressure riding up his nose that he traps with his thumb and forefinger. "Tell me what to do?" He says as the car pulls away from the curb.
"I…" He hears her stutter on the other end.
"Donna." He says, the name heavy and levelling in his throat.
"Harvey. I'm...as lost as you. I have no idea." He hears her say.
He frowns, as another call blares on his phone.
"Does she know my number?"
"No? Why?" She replies.
"Uh...I have another call. I'll call you back." He says, diverting to the other call.
When the line connects and he hears a man's voice, he immediately groans, closing his eyes.
"Right. Do me a favour...keep a constant eye on here. She's Houdini." He says tiredly, dialling Donna's number once more.
"Donna?" He calls into the receiver.
"Hey. Did you find her?" She asks, the panic cracking through her business-like facade.
"You are never gonna believe where she is."
Typical. Women, he thinks.
He glides through the lobby at a pace; the usual red tropical arrangements lighting up the Reception.
He spies the golden hair popping just above the counter.
"Dad!" Says a voice, as a little nose, and two rosy cheeks and chin rest on the low counter.
All the anger in his being dissipates at the mere sight of her.
Just like her damn mother...
"What the hell are you doing here?" He says; a small but irritable edge to his voice as she skips around the counter, slamming into his legs.
"You were late." She says matter-of-factly.
"I…" His words falter in the face of a correct statement. "I was...late. But you can't just leave school if I'm late, honey. You have to stay there." He says, trying with all his might not to get extremely angry at her.
"Why?" She asks, looking up at him inquisitively.
"Because it's dangerous for a five year old to be wandering the streets."
"I didn't wander. I got a cab." She smiles then, proudly almost.
His eyes bulge, a look of shock on his features as he looks down at her. "What do you mean, you 'Got a cab?"
"I took some money out of my piggy bank this morning. You know...just in case." She shrugs evenly.
"What are you? An investment banker? So you just keep money in your school bag for cab fare?"
"Yes?" She frowns. "You were late last time." She says delicately.
"Come here kid," He sighs, beckoning her to sit at the lounge seat by a table of browsable magazines, as he nods thanks to a very helpful Security man.
"Why did you come here? Your mother is worried sick about you. I've been looking all over town for you. Your Mom called the Police."
Hers eyes widen then. "She did!?"
"Yes. Because you didn't call us. Either of us."
"I dont have a cellphone."
"Well...maybe we should change that…" He mumbles to himself. "Listen," He says, tapping her shoulders. "In future. If I'm late. Get the reception at school to call me. You can talk to me any time. And I'll give you a play by play. But, you cannot, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, young lady, take a cab, by yourself."
He lessens the intent of the lecture when he sees her soften slightly, forcing the guilt into his heart like a true sucker. "You ever see me take a cab?"
"Nope." She answers.
"Exactly. So...if I'm late. What are you to do?" He asks.
"Have reception call you." She parrots.
"And if your mom is late,"
"But Mom's never late."
"You're missing the point." He sputters. "If either of us are late, you stay at school. Do I make myself clear?"
"I'm sorry." She says.
"Is that a yes?"
"Yes Dad." She nods.
If Donna had been there she'd have seen her resemble him almost entirely at that moment...
He sighs then. She looks so small and twice as ashamed as he'd expected.
"You know what. I understand why you came here. You got a cab, and although that's not safe, it's safer than the bus, or walking. So well done for that. But let's this be the last time you take public transportation, huh? At least until you're fifteen?" He asks, ruffling her hair.
"Sure, Dad. And…"
"What, Cass?" He sighs, relaxing finally.
"Try not to be late again." She says, sliding off the seat cushion. "It happens a lot."
"I'll try. But I'm a busy man, kid. Sometimes there's traffic." He reasons. "Now," He says, reaching in his pocket. "Do you know how to use a phone?"
"Yes." She nods.
"Okay. You know about the 'call log'?" He asks, waving his phone at her.
She smirks, giggling slightly. "Of course I do."
"Call your Mother, and tell her you're sorry for worrying her." He says, finally relaxing.
"Then can we get ice cream?" She asks, eyes brightening.
"Only if you don't tell your Mom." He says. "And don't tell her I said that."
They decide that it's best to let her stay at Harvey's for the night, being that she was so adamant to get there in the first place.
She's been like that lately, wanting to be at his more than at her own home. He supposes that she's just...comfortable here. He's comfortable. She's comfortable.
They are a, little two-person family, of sorts, and he never really realised that before.
Her Mother's the only one separate from that now, it seems.
He always assumed - before Donna got pregnant - that if they had a girl, that his life would be practically over because then there would be two Donna's walking around and the world just wasn't equipt to deal with that in a double measure.
Luckily, she was very much a mix of them. She was shrewd like her Mother, and looked like her mother, apart from the eyes. Her forthrightness matched her mother's, but her attitude was more like him.
They were like two peas in a pod some days, and other days they were like Donna and he had been in their working relationship. Seamless and bouncing off of one another with vigor.
He's never been more proud to be a father, as he looks over to see her curled on the sofa; her pale blue polka dot onesie on and a green blanket laced around her limbs. She had popped out of bed, her blanket in tow as he was watching midnight poker and stood in front of him like it was all his fault. And instead of battling her, her reasoned that she could sleep on the couch.
He smirks, moving to scoop her up and out of the comfort of the sofa to carry her to her bedroom.
She doesn't so much as twitch. Now that she gets from her mother, he thinks to himself with a smile.
Donna could sleep through an invasion...
He pads down the hallway, latching the door.
Although he's not worried, he's now found that you can never be too careful.
She is Houdini after all…
He double takes at the slightly soft knock at the door.
When he opens the door, he's surprised to see Donna standing there, wrapped in a coat. His eyes slide down her sweat-pant clad legs, then to a pair of rather fluffy green slippers.
"Cute." He remarks, smirking as he looks to her.
She's apologetic looking but her hair looks like she's just stepping out for the night.
"Hey. Sorry...I just...needed to see her." She smiles tightly.
In a strange way, he understands. Having just had his little girl stretched out on the sofa for over an hour.
He nods, indicating behind him. "I just put her to bed."
"You just," Her eyebrows raise accusingly.
"She got up." He defends. "I let her sleep on the couch with me."
"Oh." She says, relaxing out, before walking past him.
He watches as she all but tiptoes into her bedroom, the pink glow of a night-light setting off the otherwise watery looking room. He watches as she leans over, observing their daughter with a small smile and a sigh before tiptoeing back out to meet him.
They walk automatically to the kitchen, as he switches the coffee machine on, the counter tops bathed in low under-lighting..
"She's a...very smart kid." He observes.
"Yeah. I don't think we can keep up with her much longer." She admits, scratching her head.
"Oh, I don't know," He disagrees, smirking.
She's right. They can't. He's definitely too old for this...
"You can't be late again." She tells him. It's a warning, but a delicate one coming from her.
"I know. But," He excuses. "She has to learn to listen to us. I'm going to buy her a phone."
"Really? You think that's best?" She gawps, her eyebrows raising as he watches control her rising volume a the revealing information..
"Well, she clearly doesn't trust authority. So I figure, getting her a phone for emergency calls only will…you know." He gestures.
"Harvey, she's barely six years old." She says, bending slightly at the hip.
"Yeah, but she has the intelligence of a nine year old. So I figure that if we give her all the opportunity to communicate, then she'll do that, rather than go on a little wander again."
She sighs, his reasoning solid enough for them both. "No Internet." She warns.
"Obviously no internet. I also told her not to get a cab again. But to call us, if we're late. And to more importantly, stay at school."
"You mean, if you're late." She accuses.
"Give me a god damn break, I am the head partner at a top law firm!" He whines slightly.
She gives him a look, groaning as she looks away from him just to blanch out her retort.
"You want a coffee?" He asks, changing the subject.
"Actually, I need to go to bed." She says; the acknowledgement of such causing her to stifle a yawn, her shoulders crunching slightly as she tries to relax them, making her way to the door.
"You know you can crash here if you like?"
"Funny." She says, rolling her eyes.
"I mean it. I'll take the couch." He says evenly.
She sighs, looking tiredly at him for a moment.
It could swing either way, he thinks.
Finally she says "Not with your shoulder." Beckoning him."Come on…" She encourages. "Just don't grope and we'll get along smoothly." She throws over her shoulder, padding off to his bedroom.
He shakes his head, flicking off the coffee machine as he follows her, watching a trail of shoes and a coat and a wrap-around cardigan all splayed across his carpet like a breadcrumb trail until he sees her already under his sheets and on his - that used to be her - side of the bed.
There's something telling in his eyes that is all at once met with an unapologetic look from her.
"Don't be such a baby." She says, throwing a pillow at him, that he catches instantly.
"Your on my side." He remarks, flicking the light switch before getting into the bed.
She smirks, amused by his comment. "I think we both know that that is a lie. This is clearly my side." She plays, pulling the cover to her, her eyes shutting deliberately.
He groans, throwing her a look before rolling over onto his side, away from her.
There is something constant and soothing and memorable about the sound of her annoying snore.
He smiles to himself in the darkness.
Typical...
When the morning comes, he feels warm and bathed in light and terribly comfortable with an arm wrapped around his-
He double takes, his eyes flicking to the hand that's peeking out under his. The feeling of two very warm breasts tucked up against his back and lots of hair against his neck.
He tries to disconnect from the growing warmth in his gut and carefully peel himself off of the offending arm. It's delicate, painstaking work, but much like her daughter she is unperturbed by any movement, as he slides out of bed, walking to the bathroom to get a little distance.
It angers him slightly that she comes here. That in these strange moments where she wants to play house, he lets her. And more than that, he actually enjoys it. Enjoys the memories it invokes.
It makes him feel undervalued. Regardless of their past, he's doing his best and yet she's…
Having her cake. And eating it. But leaving just one little piece of him on the side, on a plate that no one else is going to pick up and finish.
He quashes the need to go back in the room and partake in a much needed relief of all the frustration she's built up in him and instead flicks on the shower; the immediately hot steam filling the room and his head with the sound of white noise.
It's soothing and gives him the focus he needs. The hand sliding down his stomach does the majority of the work.
Let her deal with her daughter staring at her over his bed and asking why she's suddenly there, he thinks.
That...is not his fight.
Donna wakes to a false sense of security. Warmth suddenly ripped from her like departure of the womb, her chest is suddenly cold and her heads suddenly on a pillow that was not designated hers.
She feels the bad choices line together, as she spots her exact location and the prominent surroundings. New York City's skyline being the most obvious one.
When she hears running water, she deduces that she's got about three minutes if Harvey's in the shower, and even less time than that if Cassie is awake. She jumps into action, grabbing her shoes to toe them on, before throwing her cardigan around her shoulders like a scarf and collecting her coat as she darts into the kitchen.
She sighs with relief at the absence of her daughter for the first time in a day, as she places her coat on a breakfast stool and flicks the coffee machine on. She spies the '07:05' on the digital clock located on the oven.
In the finest time ever recorded Cassie wanders into the kitchen, double taking at her mother.
"Hi Mom?" She frowns.
"Hey kid. You're up, finally." She says, an odd Harvey-ness about her delivery.
"How long you been here?"
"Oh about...fifteen minutes. You were sleeping, sweetheart." She gambles.
"Yeah," The little girl yawns, passing her to sit on a breakfast stool beside her coat.
She relaxes. "You want breakfast? I could take you out?"
"In sweats, Mom? But you never leave the house in sweats." She argues.
"Yeah, well. I wanted to see you." She shrugs, hoping her game face is enough to get her through breakfast alone.
"I'll take her," He hears Harvey's voice pass him as he walks to their daughter, giving Cassie's hair a little scrunch in the process. She notes he's dressed, shirt, pants, but no tie.
When her eyes meet his, his mask is fully up. She feels the pit of her stomach drop.
"Okay…" She nods. "That gives me time to get ready." She says, looking to Cass. "Now, little Houdini. Stay with your Dad and I'll see you this afternoon when I pick you up," She says pointedly as she leans in. "At school," She presses, kissing the girl's head. "Where you will be waiting inside by reception. Am I clear?" She asks, an adult lace of humour in her words.
"Yes Mom." She says, receiving yet another kiss from her mother.
"I'll see you at work," She says to Harvey, watching as he nods evenly, picking up a cup of fresh espresso.
The lift down to the ground floor is a sobering one.
It's not the best way to start the day…
Notes: Okay, so I said I'd add people back in. I will. Just..next chapter. Thanks for sticking with it and as always feed the kitty! A~