It had taken Fitzgerald Grant a long way to get to this place. Physically, emotionally and mentally this was the hardest decision he had made in years bar none.
It had taken a talk with his team of lawyers, the White House counsel, and his closet advisors.
Are you out of your mind? Cyrus had asked a few days ago when he had laid out his plan. He would go to Olivia's hideout, information he was thankfully able to acquire through her work associates. There had been a woman…brisk, aggressive and very liberal according to her. Abby? He could remember a lot of screaming and yelling at his secretary. And then she finally relented and gave the address…
For the last few months, he had access to the best spin doctors, lawyers and advisors on the planet. They had given him the best of advice and had made him a man who was the victim of a partisan attack by opponents, bitter about the last election. It had taken one speech…an emotional rabbling mess to send his approval ratings from dirt low to their normal levels again. Sure, he still had to sit through hours of depositions and questioning, watching stupid Dateline and Primetime specials with labels like "The President's Last Temptation…"
Not very original, if you asked me. He thought at the time as he sat in his study, watching the program. The ominous music, the pictures of him and Olivia in White House settings…the interviews by so-called experts.
This is so silly….and soon, the American people began to think so. Poll after poll showed that while the President was down with women, there were people sympathetic to a man who was clearly in love.
There's something to be said for this affair, if you can even call it that. I mean given the way some of these letters and phone calls transpired, can we even say this was just another powerful man entangled in a sordid sex scandal? This man seems like he is in love with this woman. Marriages fall apart all the time. Unfortunately for him, we live in a country where we hold our public officials' private lives in such high esteem that this unhappy man, drowning in a loveless marriage could not even get a divorce.
He remembered smiling as he watched that evening…Finally someone who understood his predicament. But the media expert would not be his only supporter. Despite his anger and disgust, Cyrus had been a good friend throughout the whole ordeal. He had listened carefully as poured his heart out, night after night. He didn't say much but his kind words let Fitz know he was there.
His children had taken a few weeks, incognito and spent time with him in the White House. Karen, his Karen, his little girl was disappointed in him. She yelled and screamed. Calling him selfish. But she eventually came around.
Looking at her that afternoon, her dark auburn waves, tall lithe frame and pretty face, she was a splitting image of her mother. But her eyes…those grey eyes were like looking into a mirror. Karen, the vivacious life of his two children had changed. A sports loving, talkative medical student at Harvard had matured. But she had known….she had always known.
Daddy do you think I'm stupid? I know you and Mother have never gotten along! But I had to know why? Why couldn't you just wait until you were out of office? And with Olivia of all people? Daddy, I like her! She's given me advice on boys, and birthday presents! Why couldn't you just cheat with someone I could hate!
Jerry, on the other hand, was more pensive, quieter of the two dealt with the affair by bonding with his father. Fitz saw himself in his son so much. He was like that at that age. He had internalized the scandal, pretending as though everything was fine, even wanting to play basketball with his father.
The pool report pictures had spoken a thousand words. Despite it all…he was a good father. Attentive to his children. But was he? He had spent so much of their lives away from home. But despite it all, they had stuck by him. Those weeks with them, watching movies in the residence, playing sports had given him a level of peace he had not felt since that day at the Cape Cod home months ago.
His relationship with Mellie on the other hand was non-existent up until a few weeks ago. He had finally brought himself to read the book. Agnes Davis and Anderson Pierce were their names but he recognized himself and Liv in these characters. They were portrayed as lovesick sex junkies. Throwing away power and the goodwill of the people for the thrill of the chase. A regular old Cleopatra and Julius Caesar for the modern era…
But some of the situations in the book were eerily familiar. This was not just the work of a talented author with an active imagination…the description of their homes, the scenarios were too precise.
Sure there had been a leak from the White House, one the investigation had not yielded results for but he had gotten an eerie feeling someone close to him had betrayed him…and he had an inkling of who it was.
Mellie for all her grace and poise had virtually no reaction to the scandal but to move out and file for legal separation. She wanted the home in Florida, the Park Avenue apartment and the home in Bridgehampton. He got to keep the ranch, the Cape Code home. She wanted the divorce after he left the White House.
There was no screaming, no fighting and no lectures. Just a flippant goodbye after days of packing, a press release and communication through his attorneys about stock option divisions and pre-nuptial agreements.
She did this…his mind screamed at him as he watched her from their bedroom window get into the limo and leave him for good. Even from the window, he could see a bit of a, dare he think it, a bounce in her step…like she was happy.
So that evening, he called his lawyers and informed him of his suspicion. And he knew the one person who could help him get to the bottom of this.
The Popes home was beautiful, Fitzgerald thought as he sat in the swanky sitting room, having tea with Doris Pope. It was warm, big yet a good size. Not as opulent as his homes growing up. He would have loved to grow up in a house like this.
"Son, I trust it you are here for a good reason. The last thing my daughter needs is the press asking her questions pertaining to your visit." Doris said coldly her eyebrow cocked as she observed him with a lawyer's mean. She had a smoky voice with a southern belle accent.
The resemblance was uncanny. The diminutive, yet hourglass frame, the smooth brown skin so free of any lines it was hard to tell that Doris was a day over 30. And yet she was almost 70 years old…that air of regal disposition, almost like an old fashioned movie star. However her eyes were very different from her daughters. Her eyes were hazel, and olive shaped. Almost cat like.
She must have gotten her eyes from her father…
"Yes ma'am." He said nervously. Despite how small this woman was, she gave off an air of power. And how could she not. He had read all about her. One of Washington's most famous lobbyists.
She leaned back into the soft tan couch and sipped her tea, her lips were pursed in a very Olivia-like manner.
"You know, I've never liked Republicans. I've dealt with a good chunk in my day, the lobbying business is full of them, but I thought you were different. You made sense, not to extreme… So I wasn't surprised when my daughter decided to work for you. I can tell you are a good man so I'm not going to be that woman who rips you apart for having an affair. I'm sure your wife has done that job already. And my baby, while still my baby is a grown woman. She knew what she was doing." She said looking him dead in the eye as if to challenge him.
Fitz nodded not really knowing what to say. Good! She doesn't hate me.
"Ma'am I can't say how sorry-"
She cut him off, flapping her hands as if she were wadding away the help.
"Boy, I don't need you apologizing and I don't need your groveling. You're too cute for that." She said matter-of-factly.
Fitz chuckled. Now it all made sense where Olivia got her moxy from.
"What I need you to do is go upstairs and talk to her. Not mess her around and baby her. But talk to her. The way you ended things was not healthy. And I haven't seen Liv this broken since her father passed." She said firmly as she motioned toward a large picture hanging over the mantel. It was a portrait of a young Olivia, dressed in a white gown and gloves dancing with a tall, handsome man in a tuxedo.
That must have been her cotillion…
"I'm sorry for your lost ma'am." Fitz said quietly as she poured more tea. She rolled her eyes.
"Boy, quit your apologizing for the last darn time! Unless you supplied him with the cigarettes and scotch you can save it. And, oh let me know if you asked him to work long hours, on holidays and birthdays. Or better yet, if you spend years forcing him eating his mama's collard greens and neck bones because he didn't like my cooking. That old fat bitch killed him, not you." There was that lip pursing again.
Fitz choked with laugher as he took a sip of tea. This woman was too much.
"Now, let's get upstairs before Liv comes down. And take your shoes off before you climb my stairs, I have white carpeting." She said as she began walking toward the mahogany spiral staircase. Fitz put his teacup down and followed her upstairs immediately.
"What did I tell you about my carpet! Shoe's off!"
She looked so small. Her hair was a wild forest of dark coils. And her face was thinner than he remembered. But those eyes, those chocolate big eyes were haunting. Sunken with sorrow.
"Fitz, what…what are you-" she began to ask him as she stroked his face. She looked so shocked, it were as though she had not seen sunlight in years.
"He needs to talk to you, so I will leave you two alone." Doris said softly. Fitz was enraptured in Olivia's face, drinking in her touch, he had forgotten Doris was still in the room.
"Umm…thank you Mrs. Pope" Fitz choked out through his tears. But as she left, she turned sternly toward the two of them, pointing a well-manicured finger menacingly.
"No smacking bellies? Understood?"
At that comment it was as though Olivia had morphed into a teenager. She pulled away from Fitz and rolled her eyes, awkwardly whipping away her tears.
"Mom!" She said embarrassed as Doris closed the door behind her, leaving them to each other.
The silence was so loud. All they could do was stare at one another…
"Umm…your mom is very…" Fitz began awkwardly.
"Southern? Pushy? Too much?" Olivia said with a cocked eyebrow, her tear stained face spreading into a small smile.
Fitz shrugged well humoredly. At least they were getting off to a good start.
"Smacking bellies? That's a little old fashioned"
"That's mom…" Olivia said. She says awkwardly. She was practically swimming in her blue Yale sweats combination.
She had lost a lot of weight.
Fitz looked around, taking the room in. It was so cozy he was oddly tempted to lay on the big canopy bed with Olivia and cuddle with her. But he could not do that, just yet.
"I know this is weird-" he began, his voice trembling. But as he spoke Olivia walked toward the crème nook, with its oak paneling and fluffy cushions and sat down facing him. She looked down at her toes, her feet swinging because she was too short for her feet to hit the white carpet.
"Livy…I'm here for a good reason." He said, trying to compose himself. He walked over and sat next to her.
"Oh?" she asked him quietly, finally looking up at him.
"I have reason to believe that Mellie was behind all this…" Fitz said forcefully. He had to stay focus. He could not get wrapped up in her presence. Or he would not be able to contain himself. At his statement her eyes widened with an almost childlike curiosity.
"What?" she asked confused, shaking her head.
He took a deep breath and placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb softly stroking her pretty face.
"Look I know it sounds crazy and I know this whole thing is nuts but I have been thinking…I have figure some stuff out. I know there was evidence and I know you. I know you probably haven't read the book, but I have. And there is stuff in that book that no one could know Liv, unless Mellie told whoever wrote this."
Olivia got up and began pacing the room slowly. It was a lot to process.
"Look, Fitz, I get that you want-" she said, facing him.
Fitz shook his head frantically. Now was no time to be skeptical. He could feel this in his gut. He knew Mellie…better than anyone.
"Olivia, I know this is insane, but you have to believe me. There is a passage in the book, I remember, it was Chapter 14…when Anderson calls out Agnes's name when he is having sex with his wife Catherine. Liv, think about it! Who makes that kind of thing up?"
"Umm…someone money hungry with a great imagination. Look, I've been trying to put this behind me and-"
"No. I know my wife Liv, and I know myself. That happened. I know because I remembered it. The words, the way we fought. It happened when Mellie tried to get pregnant. It happened when you left-"
Fitz choked, he could feel himself getting desperate to convince Olivia. She was so detached. So emotionally removed. She just stood there, her eyes glassy with tears looking confused.
What had happened to his Livy?
"Fitz, how did you even get here?" she asked quietly. Her head cocked slightly.
He took a deep breath. Let's hope for the best.
"A government car, two agents a sharp shooter and Cyrus's consent. You know me, and you know with everything that's happened, I would not just show up like this unless it was really important. I have a cell phone and if you want-"
"Tom. Tom was the one who betrayed us." She said firmly cutting him off.
Fitz's mouth fell open in shock…Tom? How did she know that?
"What?"
"The team figured it out. That's why he was reassigned. Or so his file will say. He's in Sweden. We found out he was contracted out. Former Black Opt member with a hacking hobby and proximity to a president he was getting tired of protecting, he was the perfect spy." Olivia said matter of factly. Slowly but surely, Fitz was beginning to see traces of his old Livy, the fixer coming back.
Fitz shook his head slowly, running a hand over his face. It was all making sense now….
"But if Tom was contracted out, think about it Liv, think about it, who else would have the proximity and the money to pull that off. Who else would feed that kind of information to him?"
Olivia shook her head and continued pacing the room.
"I've been thinking lately that it could have been Derek, maybe even his father who wrote the book. But where would a sitting United States Senator or a prosecutor get the time. But I've never thought of Mel, Fitz. I mean why would that even make sense?" She asked. It was as though she was thinking out loud rather than talking to him. He got up, walked over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Liv, you and I both know that if Mel wanted, she would fight tooth and nail to stay in the White House. Why the hell would she just move out? Why would she just move out so easily? Come on! My lawyers are willing to work with your team Liv. We could end this…expose her for what she really is!" He said forcefully, but she broke away from his grip, and began pacing once more.
"What's the point? The stuff in there was true anyway. So we expose her, if you are even right and then what? She gets more sympathy?"
Fitz could feel himself getting frustrated. He sat down to calm himself. Fuck! He stepped in front of Liv to stop her from pacing.
"Liv, even if we don't, we owe it to ourselves to find out who did this. Your mom has a copy of the book. Read it-"
But she shook her head forcefully, tears forming in her eyes again.
"No! I'm not doing that, I'm won't, it hurts-" But Fitz put his arms around her and put his lips to her ear. She felt so thin in his arms. That softness, the lushness of her curves were gone.
"Baby…Sweet Babe…listen." He whispered.
"Noo..ooo" Her cry was muffled and her tears were wetting his tee shirt. He held onto her firmly despite her trying to fight his embrace. But after a while she gave in, wrapping her thin arms around his neck.
Fitz felt himself calm with easy. It hurt to feel his baby like this, small and confused. She was so broken. It was as though she had withered away. But despite it all, he still could feel that powerful rush of love in his heart. They stood there for a while, embracing each other as Fitz rocked her gently, trying to calm him down. Sure, it would hurt now. But soon, this would be all behind them. If he had anything to do with it. Because he could not live in a world where Olivia Pope was as broken and scared as she was right now.