Chapter 12
"I love you." There is no "hello" or "hi", just his love when she answers the phone on the first ring. They're the sweetest words she's ever heard. The timbre of his voice washes over her, covering her body in his warmth and security. She closes her eyes upon hearing the declaration he's made to her over and over again; each time she believes them a little more, gaining strength without even knowing it. Words that a few have spoken to her, but never as complete sentences. There was always a "but" or an "and", with some sort of string attached, making her sing and dance for the scrap of what they were willing to give to her. At one point, before she truly understood what true love felt like, it was enough.
She says the words back to him, letting them roll of her tongue because they come so easily now, but only with him. Then, they sit in silence, clutching their telephones like they're clinging to the only reality they need. Perhaps that's exactly what they're doing because the world around them is swirling with chaos and danger, and they are what's real. What's honest and true. Unbreakable.
He sighs when he hears her tell him she loves him too. It feel so good, he has to ask her to repeat them, just to be sure he's not dreaming. She does. He knows they've always been difficult for her to say, and there were times when all she could do was put every ounce of emotion into a kiss, or an all night lovemaking session, doing things to his body that make him unintelligibly moan her name again and again. It bothered him in the beginning and made him feel insecure in their relationship. Like maybe she didn't say it because she wouldn't have meant them.
As their relationship grew, he came to understand that it was not about him. It was about her and how she'd been treated and used in the past. She doesn't talk about her upbringing or her family, something he hopes to gradually remedy. He knows the meaning of all of her gestures, and can read her like a book, but he doesn't truly know her. Not the way she knows him.
The sun has yet to appear and they're both feeling the stress of the upcoming day. She gets out of bed, bare feet shuffling around her bedroom, searching for the perfect, camera ready outfit. Knowing he will likely see her, she chooses one of her favorite suits, a special purchase he made because it reminded him of her. The separation is difficult and it's the little things, from his flag pin to her clothing choice, that bring them a little closer to each other.
"Did you get my draft?"
"Yes, I did. Perfection as usual. I just wish I was there when you wrote it."
"Why?"
"I love watching you work."
"Stop it."
"I'm serious. I love the way you pace when you're figuring something out. And how you look up when you're trying to find the right words. I love the way your eyes dart around when the thoughts are coming too fast and the deep breath you take as you organize them. Your mind is...I can't help it...it turns me on."
"Everything turns you on," she chuckles as she adjusts the temperature of her shower and plugs in her flat iron.
"Everything about you."
"Thank you. I think. How'd it go yesterday?"
"Oh, a typical day at the White House. Lots of fires. Not enough water. Cyrus is losing his mind. Mellie has lost hers."
"Nothing's changed."
"Not a thing. How was yours?"
She sits on the edge of their bed as she considers how to answer that question. She elects to keep it vague and asks, "Have you looked at that list of potential Supreme Court nominees?"
"Yes, and I agree that Newman is the way to go. I think we can get some Democrats onboard. We're going to need them. Care to clue me in on when we may have to use this list?"
"Stay tuned."
They have to let each other go, but they don't want to. They allow themselves a few minutes to pretend they aren't on opposite sides of town, stealing minutes from the people who elected him; they are lovers beginning their day with each other. When he finally speaks again, they both know it is time. "Have a good day, Livvy. Don't work too late."
"Why, are you coming to visit me?"
"Is that a challenge, Ms. Pope?"
"Goodbye, Mr. President."
After beginning his day on a high note, Fitz's day goes downhill fast. He used to believe the job was overwhelming, and maybe he wasn't cut out for it after all. It was too, for lack of a better word, political. Bartering away various pieces of his principles to get legislation passed, which always ended up being much less than he wanted and less than the American people deserved.
He realizes now the job, he loves. The challenge, he relishes. His first term was limited because every decision he made had to take into consideration how it would affect his ability to get re-elected. In his second term, he's ready to make a real difference in the lives of the American people. What's stressing him out is his very messy personal life and the impact it may have on his ability to be effective.
The Oval Office has become his sanctuary. He didn't think it would be easy; things have never been easy with Mellie, but he wasn't prepared for how difficult she would be. She has drawn her line in the sand, which includes remaining in the Residence. Which includes her office refusing to communicate with his. Which means no discussions with Cyrus about re-decorating Blair House, or anything having to do with her "displacement" as she calls it.
She has threatened to go to the press to tell them about her husband who is "throwing her out on the street", which couldn't be further from the truth. She has threatened to sit outside the White House gates holding an "I'm homeless" sign, a cute stunt that would embarrass her, just as much as it would embarrass him. Though her threats are empty, she is a loose cannon and until he can completely sever their ties, he has to be on guard.
He's instructed Cyrus to find any historical precedence for removing an "undesirable presence" from the White House. Find a law on the books and if one doesn't exist, find one that can be twisted to suit their purposes. Something, anything that will force her from the White House.
He has only himself to blame for the mess of his life. He knew from the first moment he met Mellie that she was trouble, but chose to ignore it because it was what his father wanted. He failed to realize all that a commitment to her would entail; he wasn't prepared to sell a piece of his soul.
His calendar is filled with meeting after meeting about the state of this nation, his upcoming speech which the world will be watching, outlines for legislation he hopes to pass within his first hundred days and never has he felt less prepared to do his job. He misses Olivia and her mind. Despite it all, does his best to wear the mask of a confident leader who has everything under control.
Before he can get too lost in his own thoughts, Cyrus bursts through the door, breathless. "Sir, we have a problem."
"What is it?"
Cyrus closes the door behind him and makes his way toward Fitz, plopping down in one of the chairs. "It's starting."
"You're going to have to stop speaking in code and say whatever the hell it is you want to say."
"The whispers. It always starts with the whispers and they get louder and louder, until it's a full chorus and they'll chase you from office, disgraced, and you can write that memoir every former President writes."
"What?!"
"Mellie. She's whispering to anyone in listening distance about your African-American lover."
"So? Her approval rating is in the twenties."
"Not to reporters. To Congress. I warned you her hue was a problem-"
Fitz knew she would make it about race, but he expected her to go to the press. His support within his party is already tenuous at best. "Who's she talking to, specifically?"
"The Whip. The Speaker. Committee chairs."
"And what's the response been?"
"Nothing yet. They'll focus group it. See how the public will respond. Blow the way of the wind. You know how it works."
"Do our own polling. I'll call Liv and let her know what's going on."
Cyrus shakes his head in disbelief. This President will be the death of him. "You are going to call your African-American girlfriend after I just told you there's a whisper campaign against her? Calls can be traced. The two of you aren't necessarily discreet when you're together. Any fool can look at video and figure out who she is to you."
"You let me worry about that. You worry about getting Mellie the hell out of this house and how we're going to respond to these racial attacks. Got it?"
Olivia walks from one end of her conference room to the other, appraising the men and women standing before her. She instructs some to tone down their makeup, others to button their shirt a little higher. Still others are told to straighten their hair.
She goes over a few basics with them, describes their roles. Gives them each a line to read and listens to the enunciation and pitch, helping where needed. When she is sure they're ready, she disappears into her office and lets her team take care of the rest. She watches as the group is hustled from the office by Abby and Harrison.
"Justin, are you sure you're ready for this?"
"Yes, ma'am." She tilts her head as she watches his face. She notices the tears in his eyes that he tries to blink away. He looks up and twists the watch on his wrist, struggling to find the right words. She doesn't pressure him as she gives him time to gather his thoughts. "You ever feel so alone and worthless, like no matter what you do, it's not going to be right?"
"All the time," she answers quietly, thinking of her own life.
"How do you cope?"
She laughs, "Wine. Lots and lots of wine." She gets a smile out of him. Her face straightens as she answers his question honestly, "You have to do what feels right to you. Live the life that feels right for you. We can't choose our parents. We can't make them love us. We do the best we can and if it reaches a point where people become toxic to you, you have to let them go."
He nods, still processing her words. "What's next?"
Chief Justice Jeffries sits in his office alone, staring out the window. He reflects on his journey from his wealthy Los Angeles suburb to the highest court in the land. He is living his dream.
The first couple of news vans catch his eye, but he doesn't think much of them. The Court is expected to rule on a three very big cases in the upcoming days, so he believes the press is setting up early, preparing to be the first on the air.
As more and more of them assemble, he grows increasingly concerned. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a petite woman with a fierce and powerful walk, followed by his son. Panic sets in immediately and he looks around, knowing no escape hatch will suddenly appear to take him away.
He hears her voice speaking with Molly, who is no match for Olivia as she stutters and stammers over her words. The Justice runs his fingers through his hair a few times before opening the door to his office to greet his guests. He thinks he is wearing his best poker face, but the visible beads of sweat and trembling lip give him away.
Olivia and Justin make themselves as comfortable as they can as they sit at the small, round table in his office. The Justice looks for a crack in her demeanor, something he can take advantage of. As a former attorney and now a judge, he prides himself on his ability to read people. In Olivia, he sees no weaknesses or cracks he can exploit; she is a woman who means business. "I had one dream my entire life, and that was to work in this building. I had a perfect score on my SATs. I was the youngest person to ever make partner at my firm. I've earned this."
Olivia listens quietly, counting the number of I's he used. She doesn't respect his game, but she sits back and allows him to dig a deeper hole from himself.
"Justin, your mother and I, we agreed. It was mutual. We loved each other, but it wasn't our time. She moved on. I moved on."
Justin sits up and leans forward, looking into a pair of eyes that look just like his own. His expression is cold and unforgiving and the nice, soft-spoken guy who first walked into Pope and Associates is gone. "She. Never. Moved. On," he says, carefully pronouncing each word. He gets up and looks out the window, which is Olivia's cue to speak up.
"Here's what's going to happen. I have my own cameraman just outside that door. You can read the statement we've prepared and resign. Or, we will march right out there to those gathering news crews that have been told there is a big story brewing, and give our statement. Either way, you will not be a member of the Court you so revere for much longer. You have 60 seconds to decide." Her poker face never lets on that the gathering reporters are in fact actors that she's hired.
When the President enters Cyrus' office, he's expecting to discuss progress on the Mellie front. He is expecting more judgement and quiet condemnation, which he will ignore. He is not prepared when his Chief of Staff turns up the volume on the television in his office, and instructs his boss to "sit".
He sees Justice Jeffries holding a piece of paper, hands shaking, tears in his eyes. There is no supportive wife next to him; there are no cute children in the background. Just him, and the paper, his eyes downcast, focusing on the words; it takes a few tries before he finds his voice.
He is resigning, he says, for the good of the nation. He has lived a lie and now, it is time for him to speak the truth. He acknowledges his past relationship with Angela, and their son, Justin. He speaks of personal responsibility and his failures as a father, and a man. He will work to repair his relationship with his son, he claims, because it is he right thing to do.
The tears are real, though he does not weep for the son he didn't claim until today. He doesn't weep for Angela, who will be hounded by the press once they figure out her last name. He weeps for himself and the legacy of disgrace he leaves behind. He weeps for the goals he will never reach, the impact he will never have. He weeps because it has all been snatched away in the blink of an eye.
Fitz smiles proudly, seeing Olivia's fingerprints all over the statement. It was the perfect balance between contrition and self-chastisement. She never ceases to amaze him with the way she handles situations and makes him love her all the more.
"Did you know about this?"
Fitz smiles smugly at his Chief of Staff, who is now looking in from the outside, "I may have had a clue."
"And you didn't bother to warn me? I'm not sure you realize how many things you have on your domestic agenda, not to mention all the hot spots around the world and this vacancy shoots right to the top of the list of our priorities. We've got to make a list of candidates. We've got to interview them. We've got to vet them."
"Liv already made a list. She did the background checks. We'll have our people go over them too. I'll give you our-"
"Our? Is she your co-President?"
"She is my partner. Now, on the Mellie front?"
"It's being handled. I'm handling it."
Something about the way Cyrus looks at Fitz, something in his eyes that doesn't sit quite right with Fitz. Just a slight movement of his eyebrows that give him pause. He shakes his head, gets up, and leaves Cyrus' office, making a mental note to start looking for a new Chief of Staff.
It's just past 11:00 pm. Olivia is lotioning her body when she hears the faint sound of her doorbell. She doesn't look at the time or wonder who it is; she already knows. She quickly throws on her robe and nearly runs down her hallway to answer the door.
She doesn't even look through the peephole and when she swings the door open, she reaches for his hand, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind him. Hidden from prying eyes, she kisses him with a ferocity that knocks him off balance. He returns her passion and for a few minutes, they are the only people in the world. When the finally pull apart, she takes his coat from him and hangs it in the hallway closet.
"Can I get you anything?"
"Just come and sit with me. Please." She doesn't need to be asked twice as she sits next to him. "Good work today."
"Thank you."
"How's Justin?"
"Not well. Jeffries basically threw us out of the office and thanked Justin for ruining his life."
"I never could stand that prick."
She laughs at his candor. "So, how was your day?"
"Busy." He lays his head on her lap, allowing her to massage his scalp. "That feels good. So normal."
"It is, isn't it?"
"Mmm," he says, as he closes his eyes.
They spend the next hour engaging in some of the most normal conversation they've ever had. From the confused weather that caused some flowers to bloom, then die, too early. To some of the decorating shows she loves, a guilty pleasure only he knows of, as he files away various tidbits. She tells him about the actors she hired to pose as reporters in front of the Supreme Court, and how she used that to convince the Justice that he would be the lead story on the news one way or the other.
They kiss and explore bodies that are so familiar. They taste each other's tongues, and skin, but they do not remove their clothing. They take their time reacquainting themselves. Most of all, they enjoy their quiet time.
Mellie is not a woman who gives up easily. She is not above using anyone to get what she wants, which, in this case, is to maintain the illusion of power. She feels her tenuous grip on the one thing she covets, slipping through her fingers and she never made a contingency plan. In her life, she has always been the thing that latched and leeched, never building a life for herself, or setting goals that weren't attached to someone else. She is simply lost.
As she sits in the darkness, cradling a glass of her father's hooch, she thinks. She refuses to acknowledge her role in the destruction of her marriage. It is Olivia's fault for being a predator. It is Fitz's fault for being weak. When she thinks about it, Olivia has left many victims in her wake, including her latest, Justice Jeffries.
They go way back, she and the Justice. When she called him earlier, he was as down as she'd ever heard him. He was angry, and defeated, one emotion she is familiar with, the other she is not. Defeat is not a word in her vocabulary.
She suggests they put their heads together and figure out how they can exact their revenge. After all, Olivia Pope is human and she has weaknesses, they just have to attack her where she is most vulnerable. This time, it cannot be Fitz because he and Olivia are united in a way they have never been before. She will have to find another weakness, so she's called in the best investigator she knows. If Mellie Grant is going down, Olivia Pope is joining her.