"Uncle Harvey," Garret practically yells while staring at his food, "Is Aunt Donna your girlfriend?"

Harvey smirks as he offers the redhead an 'I-told-you-so' glance. Kim made so much food that the table is overflowing. He says, "Yes, she is."

"Cool," Garret says, his attention entirely returning to the food in front of him.

He has a full day ahead of him, so he's carbo-loading. It helps that he has Donna with him but he still isn't entirely optimistic when it comes to his mother. She must sense something because he feels her hand on his leg. She squeezes his leg reassuringly. It helps to calm his nerves but only a little.

He hasn't spoken to his mother since his father's funeral. He has done as much as possible to steer clear of her. Throughout his entire adult life, they've never really spoken and he's never really given her a chance. He wants to make things right but he isn't entirely sure he has it in him. Everything inside of him hopes that Donna being there will help him.

He's nervous though. What if his mother doesn't want to see him? She could blow him off and decide to have nothing to do with him. He deserves to be heard out, he thinks anyway.

They finish their breakfast, helping clear the table as much as possible before they head up the stairs for their jackets. She doesn't say anything, surprisingly letting him lead them at his own pace. If he were honest, he would say he wants to get this done and over with. He has little faith that this will go well.

He knows that at this point, he's the one who is closed off, even though his mother stopped trying to get into contact with him years ago. He gets that she is his mother, will always love him, will always be open to the possibility of reconciliation with him, but he has so much to say to her. And not all of it is good. He knows he can be rather combative at times and the only person who keeps him in check is Donna.

"Are you ready?" She asks him.

He wants to be honest. He wants to say that he isn't ready. That he's going to say the wrong thing. That he's still angry at her. He's angry all of the time. But he knows that what he has to do is forgive her so that he can have a trusting and honest life with Donna.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he admits.

He stands stock still, hands at his sides, eyes locked on the yellow painted door. His palms feel sweaty, humid, as he holds his breath. Attempting to summon the courage to knock, he swallows and balls his hand into a fist. It doesn't work. He quickly turns his upper body around to look behind him, but the taxi that had dropped them off is gone. Just as he leans his weight onto one foot so he can turn around and run, run, run as fast as he can, he feels soft and delicate fingers wrap around his wrist and slide down to his palm.

"You can do it," she whispers into his ear, her upper body leaning against his upper arm, "I have faith in you."

He nods slowly, suddenly no longer feeling like the cowardly lion. He turns his body back towards the unfamiliar door, devoting his attention to it as he lifts his raised fist to the door. She squeezes his hand tightly, silently encouraging him to knock. He does so, with limited strength, at first, before he knocks once more with more force.

Waiting for someone to come to the door, he turns his head to look at her, silently pleading with her for comfort. She nods instantly, her red hair framing her face. She looks beautiful in the spring sunlight, hem of her dress flowing around her thighs, and he momentarily forgets where he is as he absently wonders how he got so lucky.

The door being pulled open scares him from his reverie, the thought abandoned for another time as he looks at the graying man before him. It takes a moment for his brain to kick into high gear and piece who this man is. For a moment, Harvey feels betrayed all over again at the realization that Marcus sent him over here without even a proper warning. He feels his breath catch in his throat, a panic attack passing through him quickly and almost unnoticed as Donna squeezes his hand again, reminding him that she is in fact here. And that she has all of the faith in the world in him.

"Is Lily here?" He squeaks out. He feels like that same 8 year old boy he always seems to become in the presence of this man. He suddenly feels like he is being judged. If there is a falter in his appearance, will Bobby even see him as man?

Bobby, however, seems shocked. He seems to cower in his shoes beneath Harvey's gaze. His ego puffs up a little at the response as a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. Then he remembers exactly what he'd walked in on like a fucking lightening bolt.

"My mother," he repeats more sternly.

"Of course," Bobby mutters, taking a step back, "Please, come in."

With great reluctance, Harvey steps into the house and away from Donna. She releases his hand as he steps over the threshold, but he feels her hand between his shoulder blades as she follows behind him into the house. He releases a shaky breath, turning to look at Donna as Bobby shuts the door and goes further into the house.

He stares at Donna, almost too afraid to look around the house and see any sign of his mother and Bobby's life together. He tucks his hands into his pockets, and wavers onto his heels, quickly pushing his weight back to his toes. Donna smiles reassuringly and offers him a smile. He hears a scream echo throughout the house and his head snaps towards the noise instinctively.

The sound of his mother coming into the entryway sounds like a herd of elephants and he can't even brace himself for the way she throws herself at him and nearly collapses to the floor. He, again, looks at Donna pleadingly. He isn't sure how to handle this, what he is supposed to do about a crying woman. He's never been very good at comforting someone who's crying.

He feels his mother's arms around his neck, but he doesn't have it in him to return the favor. He keeps his arms at his sides, his hands balling into fists as he clenches his jaw tightly. Donna gives him a warning look that makes him unclench his fists. Reluctantly, he lifts one hand and places it on his mother's back. He pats gently until she releases him.

"Oh my god," she shrieks, "Look at you. You look fantastic."

"Thank you," he replies politely. He takes a step back, putting some space between them as he gets closer to Donna. He knows that he's using her as a shield, as a protective barrier, but he needs her. "This is Donna. Donna, this is Lily."

"Pleasure to meet you," Donna says, stepping forward to take Lily's hand.

He watches as Donna shakes hands with his mother, still not exactly sure how this should go. He knows he needs to get something off of his chest before this can be a fun visit. He knows Donna, always charming and polite, would normally embellish so much and offer kindness and comfort. She would say something cliché along the lines of "Harvey's told me so much about you," which would be a lie. He's told her very little. He actually hasn't told her much. Mostly everything she knows was all gossip from his father.

"Thank you, Donna," his mother replies, "The pleasure is all mine."

He can't help smiling. Although he doesn't much care for his mother's approval, he does hope that his mother is as taken by Donna as he is taken by Donna. There is a reason that she's always been his number one.

Donna returns to the space beside him and he immediately leans closer, his shoulder lightly touching hers. For some reason, he wants to tell his mother everything, like how Donna is his girlfriend and that she's given him the best memories of his life, but he doesn't want to validate her. He has to tell her something, he just doesn't know what. He looks at Donna, who immediately locks eyes with him. She gives him a curt nod and he feels her lightly press her hand against his lower back.

"I'm actually here," he starts slowly, turning his attention back to his mother, "Because I have something that I need to say."

"What is it Harvey?" Lily says calmly.

"I've been afraid of letting someone in my whole life because of you," he says. His voice is almost too calm. He's scaring himself. He feels Donna smooth her hand across his waistline, the movement reassuring him even more. He swallows. "I was scared that everyone would do to me what you did to dad. I was scared to trust anyone because I knew if anything went wrong then it would hurt. I have to forgive you because it's time for me to move on."

"Harvey-"

"Wait," he interrupts, "Let me finish."

His mother nods slowly.

"I'm lucky enough that I've had someone beside me for twelve years that I could trust, someone that I let in without ever meaning to," he says. He takes a deep breath, turning his head to give Donna a quick glance. She's nodding gently, tapping her hand against his back and ushering him to continue. "But because of what I witnessed, it took me a lot longer than it should have to admit to myself, and to her, that I was in love with her."

"I'm really sorry, Harvey," his mother says softly, "I never meant to hurt you. But I want you to know that you hurt me. Shutting me out of your life hurt me."

He tilts his head, annoyance creeping up inside of him. His jaw clenched like he's preparing himself to say something he might possibly regret, when he feels Donna slip her hand into the crease of his elbow. He looks at her and releases an exaggerated breath. He nods his head slowly, turning his gaze back to his mother.

"Then I'm sorry, too," he mumbles. He offers her a tight smile and a small nod as he steps away from Donna's comforting touch. He lifts his arms and steps towards his mother, wrapping her in an embrace. "I'll have to check with Marcus, but perhaps you could come over for dinner?"

"That sounds wonderful," she replies.

"You did great," she says, once they've stepped away from the house and onto the sidewalk. He pulls his hand out of his pocket and reaches for her. He slips his fingers between hers and tugs her hand to his mouth. He kisses the back of her hand. He watches her mouth split into a smile as they slow to a stop at the street corner. "You were calm and kind. It was nice to suggest dinner."

"I don't know how I feel about it yet," he admits, "I don't actually know that I'm ready to forgive."

"I'm going to say something I've never said before," she replies. He looks at her sharply, gaze tightening as he studies her for a moment. He knows why she's never said anything, but that doesn't mean he hasn't always needed to hear it. He nods slowly. "She's your mother, yes, but she's still human. Not everyone can be perfect, Harvey."

"You are," he replies cheekily.

She glares at him, but there's a playful sparkle in her eye. She twists her lips for a moment. She says, "Despite what you may believe, nobody is perfect, and it isn't fair to hold anyone to that standard or else they will fail you every time. Your mother did something awful, but it's time to move on. It's time for you to let someone love you and trust that they'll be truthful with you."

"Wow," he baits with a smirk, "Your motives sound like they could be a bit selfish."

"Could be," she seems to agree, "But maybe that's because after being with you, I can't imagine not being with you."

He smirks, tugging her towards him. Her free hand settles in his hip and he's immediately pulling her in for a kiss. His knuckles brush over her jaw and he kisses her softly. He can't remember ever being like this with anyone in these familiar neighborhoods. She's making him go soft.

"Can I show you something?" He asks. She nods gently, her forehead lightly brushing against his.

He leads her to the baseball field, the very one that he had the conversation about leaving the DA's office with his father. His father had told him something along the lines of what Donna had told him. His father and Donna would have been two peas in a pod, thick as thieves. If he had overcome whatever it was that was holding him back, the two would have been constantly conspiring against him in his personal life. It would have been satisfying.

The ballpark is packed with Saturday softball league, mothers and fathers and various siblings running around without a care. The concession stand is open and the line is relatively long. He leads her to the benches outside of the field. Teams are warming up, but a game hasn't yet started so there seems to be plenty of seats on the bleachers.

He silently gestures for her to climb the bleachers ahead of him. The wind picks up as she does this, blowing the hem of her dress up just slightly, so she quickly finds an empty seat about 4 rows up and near the edge. She leaves enough room for him to sit on the outside, which he quickly does, hands resting gently against his knees. He watches as she crosses one leg over the other, the milky skin of her leg being exposed just a bit more. When she catches him, he shrugs in response.

"So this is where I spent every Saturday growing up," he says, "Or at least until I blew out my shoulder."

"How old were you?" She asks. He feels her foot hit his calf.

"I was seventeen. When I was thirteen I started to do some competitive baseball, but me and some friends would usually come out here Saturday evenings still," he explains. He smiles as he reaches over and courageously settles a hand on her thigh. "Dad and Marcus would sometimes come out to join us. It became this huge ordeal."

"That sounds like fun," she says. Her fingertips slide over the back of his hand, and tap against his wrist. He wonders how many times some guy has taken her back to his hometown and shown her all of the places he went when he was a kid. "I love how close you and your dad were."

He smiles carefully, trying not to go to that place where he thinks about his dad and lets it take over his mood. He shouldn't. He has every reason in the world to be happy right now. Especially when he's here with Donna, showing her some of his favorite memories.

"Baseball was big to us, all of us," he replies, "I always imagined my own kid would be as into baseball as we were. But..."

"You've thought about that?" She hums, "Kids?"

"I," he pauses to take a deep breath, "One of the reasons I was mad at my mom was that I felt robbed of that option. I had a great dad who believed I could be as good of a dad as him. But with what happened with my mother, I was afraid to trust someone."

"You trust me," she says gently.

"You could break me, you know?" He asks. It's the rawest thing he's ever said. She looks at him with wide eyes, but furrowed eyebrows. He feels her hands circle his as she brings it closer to his torso. He says, "No one has ever had me like you do."

"I wouldn't," she says, "I couldn't. I don't want to find out what life would be like without you."

"So," he hums with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, "We have a deal then?"

He thinks, to have and to hold.

He thinks, to cherish and respect.

He realizes they've lived their lives with loyalty to one another that much resembles wedding vows. He watches as she pushes her back straighter and she leans towards him. She places her lips on his and he thinks about how soft her mouth is, with a peach lipstick that tastes a little like the fruit. When she pulls back from the soft kiss, she's smiling and dropping their hands into her lap.

"Do you want to pick a kid and cheer for them like he's ours?" She ventures. He looks at her with a quitter eyebrow, like that's a creepy thing to suggest. And it is a little weird, but he appreciates her gesture like it's an omen to their future. "For practice?"

"Let's do it," he replies.

He's been trying to contain himself around the kids ever since his mother and Bobby showed up. It isn't necessarily the problem of his mother, but of Bobby being there. The man's presence just sort of rubs him the wrong way.

Regardless, he just can't accept that maybe his father wasn't the love of his mother's life after all. Not if she's been with Bobby all of this time. He supposes that he's never really sat down and thought about that Ancient Greek myth of soulmates but, even as an adult, it's still difficult for him to wrap his head around the fact that maybe his mother and father just weren't meant to be.

His father had always been a whole-hearted believer in love, even until the day he died. He was a zen man, without much hostility, anger or bitterness towards his mother. Harvey knew that he harbors more bitterness towards her than his father ever died. He felt like he had been robbed from trusting people.

Of course, standing haphazardly by while Marcus grills hamburgers and hot dogs, he watches Bobby run around the backyard with Garret like they do this every weekend. And they probably do. His mother, meanwhile, holds Jackson in her lap and rocks him back and forth while talking to him about lord knows what.

He sips on his beer as Donna and Kim come out of the kitchen carrying various add-ons for their meal, including a stack of potatoes a mile high. He thinks, for a moment, that this almost looks normal and the only thing missing is his own kid being thrown into the mix.

His eyes briefly close, and he sees a little red headed girl running around in the herd with Bobby and Garret. He's annoyed, for a nano-second, that Bobby is even present in this vision before he is instantly sorry that his father had to miss out. In this vision, he's also holding a little tyke in one arm while sipping on his beer like a seasoned parent. He knows instantly that he dwelled on his anger for too long.

He opens his eyes and feels them glazed over with tears. He swallows and turns on his heel, not even acknowledging that Marcus has finally chosen to speak. He avoids anyone looking at him, and sets his bottle down on the table as he goes into the house and rushes right through to the other side. He's met with a different gust of wind than the one in the backyard, and he drops down onto the porch, knees pulled up to his chest as the soles of his shoes press against the top step.

He drops his head into his hands, leaning his elbows against his thighs, and just reminds himself to breathe. The day with Donna had been enlightening. They'd pretended to be parents in the crowd, and they had shared something he had never shared with anyone before. He learned that she already knew enough about softball to be a hardcore athlete mom. He also learned that he felt like they had missed out on so much by not being together until now.

He hears the door creak behind him and he releases a deep breath from within his chest. He lifts his head, extending his hands out passed his knees, pressing his elbows into his legs. He knows who it is without even looking. He feels her sit down beside him, so close that he's forced to lean to the right. She seems so small beside him. She slips her hand through the space between his arm and his side, sliding her fingers over his wrist until her fingers thread with his.

"What's happened back there, babe?" She asks, barely audible.

"I was just thinking," he admits. He finally lifts his gaze to her. He knows that she can see through him, can see the glassy look in his eyes. He forces a smile onto his face. He says, "It's a shame my dad had to miss all of this."

"It really is," she agrees, "But your mom is here. And she's great with those boys."

"She is," he mutters, "I can't help feeling like I...we missed out on something."

"Like what?" She asks.

"We could have been a family," he says. He almost convinces himself.

"Honey," she starts softly, "This isn't all on you, okay? It's on me, too. I wasn't ready either. We can still have that. I know you love me, Harvey. Do you know that I love you?"

"Yes, of course," he says.

"Then we can still have a life together," she replies, "Stop inferring that I'm old."

"What? I didn't," he says defensively. She bursts into a grin. He shakes his head slowly. He stares at her for a few moments, her hand squeezing his tighter. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we didn't really miss our chance."

"You can never lose what's meant to be," she says.