Here is a nice short chapter ... winter "chapter that ate the world" machine never said. Thank you so much for all the feedback on this story. It's on my mind so much that I forget when I go a few days without updating. But I'll always come back. xoxo

more news from nowhere
…

"Ring the bell," Zola commands, standing on tiptoe but still unable to reach it.

Derek jingles his keys. "How about I just use these?"

"Bell!" Zola jumps up, trying to reach it, and Derek relents and lifts her.

Meredith pulls open the door just as the second chime hits, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Your daughter insisted," Derek says apologetically, leaning in to kiss her.

"My daughter." Meredith holds out her arms and Zola clambers onto her hip, snuggling close.

"Oh, yeah." Derek smiles at them, then shows Meredith the plastic bag he's holding. "She was my daughter when she was a perfect angel on our errands."

"Of course." Meredith shakes her head, then kisses Zola's cheek. "You found swimmies?"

"We found great swimmies."

Meredith sets Zola on her feet and they both her run into the living room, making a beeline for her pink plastic shopping cart.

Derek studies her tired face for a moment. "Mer … are you sure you want to …"

"Go swimming?"

"Well, yeah," he smiles slightly at her expression. "Well … to take Vivian with you, I mean."

Meredith raises her eyebrows. "She's not the bad seed, Derek. She's a scared little kid whose whole life has been turned upside down."

"I know that." Derek pauses. "She seems to hate me," he admits, and gives Meredith a brief synopsis of the previous night.

"She has sleep issues … and you were on her turf," Meredith shrugs.

"But Mark – "

"Yeah, I know Mark wanted you there, but I might be annoyed too if I woke up and some guy was in my house monopolizing my – stop laughing," she scolds him.

"I'm sorry." He holds up both hands. "It's just you do wake up and see me there a lot, and I guess I should be grateful you usually seem pretty okay with it."

She shakes her head. "Zola's excited to swim with Vivian," she says firmly, "and I think Mark seems like he needs a break. Don't you?"

"I think Mark seems … exhausted," Derek says, "and so does Vivian. And so does Addison, it goes without saying, I guess … no one in that family is sleeping much."

…

Derek leaves Meredith and Zola in the apartment sharing a bowl of cereal and fruit for breakfast and heads the short distance to the hospital. They've timed the morning carefully; he'll attend his mother's oncology appointment, then meet Meredith and Zola, as well as Mark and Vivian, before they head to the pool.

The appointment is brief and positive, Carolyn's prognosis bright and her discharge date set for the next day.

"You're such an overachiever, Mom," Nancy teases. Derek sneaks a glance at his sister's face to see her dark eyes shadowed. He wants to ask …

But he knows he can't.

"Let's go for a walk," Derek suggests, and his mother agrees readily. They're making their way down the hallway, his mother fairly slow but steady in the fluffy slippers Liz brought for her, when two familiar figures round the corner.

Vivian … hand in hand with Amy.

His mother stops walking.

"Hi," Amy says quietly. Nancy nods to her.

"Mom … you look good."

"Thank you, honey. Who's your friend?" Carolyn glances down at the little girl.

"Vivian," Amy says after a moment. She looks up at her name.

"She's Addison and Mark's?" Carolyn says quietly to Derek and he nods. "She's gotten so big. But of course she's theirs, she looks so much like Mark did as a boy. Look at that little face."

To Vivian she says, "hi there, honey."

Vivian backs up toward Amy, who rests her hands on her shoulders. "Viv … that's my mom," Amy tells her gently. "You saw her a long time ago, probably, but..."

But the less said about that wedding, the better.

Viv doesn't look impressed.

"I'm Zola's grandma," Carolyn offers.

Now Vivian looks more interested.

Mark rounds the corner then, his focus on his daughter; he doesn't seem to see assembled Shepherds. "Sorry, that took so long." He's holding Vivian's face between his palms, rubbing at what looks like a smudge of dirt, when he glances up.

Derek can tell the moment he notices Carolyn. The air prickles with … something, and Derek can tell Nancy feels it too.

"Mark," his mother says softly.

Each of them takes a step forward, and then – very carefully – they embrace.

There are tears in both their eyes when Mark pulls back. Vivian, looking confused, is shying back toward her father, who lifts her into his arms. She turns her face away from the gathered Shepherds.

Mark strokes his daughter's hair and just looks at Carolyn, silently.

Then they speak at the same time.

I'm so glad you're all right. That's what Mark says.

You have a beautiful child. That's what Carolyn says.

...

"Where's Daddy?" Zola asks.

"He's coming, Zozo."

"Where's Vivi?"

"She's coming too. Just another minute, I bet." Meredith snags the waistband of Zola's little shorts as her daughter tries to escape the lobby. "Hang on a minute, sweetie, you can get out all that energy at the pool."

"They're here!"

Zola crows with delight to see her friend as Mark and Viv – and Derek – push through the revolving glass doors; Vivian smiles shyly but hangs back a little.

Meredith is pleased to see that Vivian's hair is pulled back into two neat French braids hanging down her back. At least she won't have to worry about Viv drowning under that curtain of messy hair in the pool.

"Okay, baby, you be good and do what Meredith tells you," Mark is saying to Viv with the quality of a reminder, crouched down in front of her. "And be nice to Zola, she's … younger than you," Mark adds hastily, presumably thinking better of calling her little again.

Mark stands up again. "She, uh, she didn't sleep well last night, I'm sorry," he says quietly to Meredith. "If you don't want to …"

"We want her to come with us," Meredith assures him.

"Thanks." Mark looks somewhere between embarrassed and relieved.

He glances at Viv, who is currently sitting on the floor of the common space with Zola, admiring her new yellow swimmies.

"I, uh, I didn't tell Viv about … today," he says and Meredith can tell he means Addison's plan to check herself out of the hospital. "I don't want to upset her if she changes her mind."

"Has she changed her mind before?" Meredith asks the question automatically, then regrets its intrusive nature.

"She changes her mind all the time," Mark says grimly. "And I have to pick up the pieces."

His expression is dark. A little uncomfortable, Meredith changes the subject.

"Does Vivian have everything she needs for the pool?"

Mark nods. "She's a pretty strong swimmer, you know, she has deep water cert at the club. I told her she needs to stick with you guys in the water though."

Meredith hadn't really considered this. Maybe she should have. "Oh, okay. So she doesn't need any …" She gestures toward Zola's little swimmies.

"No. We never used them, actually, she started swimming on her own before we could consider it." He glances at his watch. "I should …"

"Of course. We'll check in with you later," Meredith assures him.

"Thank you so much." He glances over at his daughter, who's deep in conversation with Zola. "Viv … I'm gonna go."

She trots over, Zola on her heels. Derek joins them and Viv looks suspiciously at him, then addresses him directly.

"You're not going with us."

"Hey," Mark says sharply, "you're not going if you act like that."

Vivian doesn't say anything, just clutches the strap of her little swimming bag. There's an embroidered letter V on the front.

"Say you're sorry," Mark instructs her. "Viv…"

Vivian blinks and doesn't say anything at all.

"Then you're not going." Mark grabs her hand.

"No!" Viv pulls away and then glares at Derek. "Sorry," she mutters, not sounding very sorry at all.

Derek smiles briefly at her, then glances at Mark. "It's fine," he assures the other man.

Vivian, apparently not pressing her luck, gestures Zola back to the bench where they were playing previously.

"Sorry." Mark massages the bridge of his nose. "She's tired," he says, sounding a little defensive, even though neither Derek nor Meredith has said anything.

"It's fine." Meredith repeats Derek's words, seeing Mark glance over at his daughter again, looking worried. "She'll be fine," Meredith adds.

"Okay. Thank you," he says again. "Seriously, thank you – "

"Stop thanking me," Meredith says firmly. "This is a treat for Zola."

Mark nods, looking like he's trying to believe her, then glances at his watch again.

"I'll walk over with you," Derek says to him quietly, and he nods.

"Viv … I'm going, I'll see you later," Mark calls over toward the bench where the two little girls are chatting. Vivian glances up at him, then turns back to her play without saying anything at all.

He and Derek walk toward the door.

"Wait!"

They both turn at the pounding of little feet.

"You didn't say goodbye!" Viv is staring up at Mark with big wounded eyes.

"Yes I did, I just … ." Mark stops, sets his bag down on the ground, and lifts Vivian up so he can kiss her goodbye; she clutches him tightly.

"I don't want you to go," she whispers.

"Hey, it's okay." Mark rubs the back of her head. "You're going to go swimming. That's a lot better than hanging out with me."

Vivian is playing with the collar of his shirt. "Come with us."

"Not this time, baby. You're going to have fun with your friends while Daddy takes care of some things and then I'll see you later."

She considers this, then leans in to whisper something to him.

"Yeah, later. Tonight." He kisses her again. "Be a good girl and listen to Meredith," he says again, and Viv pulls away to join Zola.

Meredith beckons Viv back toward her and Zola; from where she's sitting, she can see the other men leave the lobby, and see Mark's head turn a few times, gazing back through the glass as if he's trying to catch a glimpse of his daughter.

…

Meredith and Vivian walk with Zola in between them, which seems to suit everyone's needs: Zola has the attention of her mom and her new friend, Meredith has some comfort that Viv isn't going to step into the street without a little warning, and Vivian … well, Vivian can keep some distance from Meredith.

In the locker room, Meredith corrals both girls, finds some space, and starts hanging up their streets clothes. Viv pulls off her shorts and t-shirt; she's wearing her bathing suit underneath.

Zola regards her with concern.

"Where's your yellow swimsuit, Vivi?" Zola asks as soon as she sees Viv's blue and white two-piece, and Meredith has to hide her smile at her daughter's suspicious tone.

Viv considers this. "At my house, I think," she says with a shrug.

"Oh." Zola studies her friend. "…okay," she says finally, as if she's given the matter much thought.

Meredith hides her smile as she ushers the little girls toward the pool, fitting Zola into her yellow swimmies.

"You like to swim?" Zola asks Vivian as they approach the water's edge.

"Yeah," Viv says, "but I didn't get to go in my pool really this summer 'cause …" her voice trails off. "'cause we were busy," she says, holding her little chin aloft and glancing at Meredith like she's daring her to push it.

"Then I'm glad you're going to swim now," Meredith intercedes smoothly. "Zola loves the water and she's learning to swim, right, Zozo?"

Zola is distracted by something, looking at her older friend and then down at her own self. "Vivi … where are your swimmies?"

"I don't have them," Viv says.

Zola looks down at hers again. "Take them off," she tells Meredith.

"Uh-uh, sorry." Meredith shakes her head. "No swimmies, no swimming."

Zola stamps her little foot.

"Zola," Meredith says calmly. "Viv is older than you are. When you're five, you might not need swimmies anymore either."

"No!"

"I had swimmies before," Viv says abruptly. "When I was littler."

Zola perks up a little at this. "You did?"

"Yeah," Viv says, reaching out a hand to touch them. "They were cool."

Zola nods, apparently accepting this, and Meredith leads both girls toward the water.

They both delight in the pool in their own ways. Vivian is a strong swimmer, and fast. She stays in the area Meredith demarcates but she's a blur of movement; Meredith gets the sense she's missed the water.

Zola bobbles on the surface in her swimmies, calling out to Meredith and Viv whenever she gets close enough, demanding they watch her swim and receiving accolades in response. Zola squeals with delight when Vivian stands on her hands underwater in the shallowest part of the pool, two little feet breaking the surface of the water.

"You're a really good swimmer," Meredith praises her when she surfaces.

Viv smiles a little.

"Hey." When Zola paddles away, Meredith gestures to Viv, who swims over. "That was nice of you, before … to tell Zola you used to wear swimmies."

Viv seems surprised by the compliment, but before she can respond the door from the locker room bursts open and they're no longer alone in the pool.

The newcomers are a tall blonde woman carrying a baby that she immediately props into an octopus-shaped floatie, and two towheaded children in matching swimsuits who cannonball directly into the pool.

The woman smiles sheepishly at Meredith. "They're a little rambunctious. They didn't splash your little ones, though?"

Meredith glances at Zola and Viv, neither of whom seemed troubled by the cannonballers.

"It's fine," she assures the woman.

The blonde glances down at Meredith's two-piece swimsuit, or rather at the part of her that protrudes over the modest bottoms. "Getting ready for your third, huh? I thought three seemed like a good idea once, too." The woman laughs, flashing a mouthful of white teeth.

"Oh, I – "

"Sorry to assume." The woman gestures to the baby in the floating tube in front of her, who is slapping the water with glee. "It's not as if I've recovered from this one yet, but …"

"No, it's fine. I'm pregnant," Meredith reassures her. "It's not just too many New York bagels. But – "

"They are good, aren't they? And the pizza," the woman says, turning in the water. "Taylor … Dylan … stay out of the deep end," the woman calls.

Zola paddles over and climbs onto Meredith, wrapping wet arms around her neck. "Who's that baby?" Zola asks with interest.

"Hi there, cutie pie," the woman smiles at Zola. "This is Mia."

"Hi, Mia," Zola responds, studying the baby's round face.

"Zola!" Viv swims up then with fast flipper kicks and Zola wriggles away from Meredith and splashes after her friend.

"Your oldest is quite a swimmer," the woman says. "Sorry, I'm Cyn. Well, Cynthia, but only to the law."

"Meredith," she responds, and the women both smile as they consider, and then reconsider, shaking wet chlorinated hands.

"She is quite a swimmer," Meredith says, glancing at Viv, "but I can't take credit. Only the little one is mine."

"Ah." The woman watches Viv and Zola for a moment. "I should have known … because they're playing so nicely."

Her gaze flickers over to the two blond children in matching striped swimsuits who appear to be trying to drown each other. "Taylor! Dylan! Be nice or we're leaving!"

"What was I saying about having a third?" Cyn smiles tiredly and strokes the baby's head.

Meredith smiles at the littlest one. She has a cheerful round face and impossibly long eyelashes.

"Actually," Cyn allows, "this one's calm as anything. Not like those two. I guess she knows her Momma already has her hands full."

Cyn pauses for breath and to stroke one of her baby's round cheeks.

"We're from Houston. My husband had a business trip out here and I challenged him to take all three kids – which seemed like a good idea at the time," Cyn explains, pausing to break up a squabble between her older children that involved both of them getting dunked. "But then I thought if the rest of the family is going to New York City, then I'm going too. And … we wanted a pool," she smiles.

This is … the mommy thing. Meredith is still getting used to it. Meet a new mom, flood each other with information. Cyn smiles encouragingly, indicating it's Meredith's turn.

"We, uh, my husband's mother had surgery and we came out from Seattle to … be here."

Okay, so I'm not quite fluent in the mommy thing yet.

"I hope your mother-in-law is doing well."

"Yes. She's doing very well, thank you."

"Good." The woman smiles. "Your husband's from back east?"

"Yes."

"So y'all are getting a chance to be with family here?" At Meredith's nod, Cyn beams. "And the swimmer? She must be a cousin?"

Actually … she's my husband's ex-wife's child who was conceived while they were still married except her father is my husband's ex-best friend.

"Basically," Meredith says with a weak smile.

…

Time slows down in the pool to splashes, and laughter, and occasional coerced bathroom breaks. Cyn's older two children – Meredith realizes she's not sure which is Taylor and which is Dylan – are tussling in the shallow end, making a fair amount of cheerful noise. The little boy darts away, then turns to throw water on his sister, some of it ending up on Zola, who squeaks with surprise.

Viv turns on the little boy angrily. "Don't. You splashed her!"

Meredith prepares to intervene.

"Sorry," says the little boy. "It was an accident."

Vivian seems mollified by this.

His sister joins the group. "Wanna play tag?"

Meredith watches Vivian consult with Zola, who nods.

"'kay," Vivian says, "but Zola's little so you have to play nice."

"Not little," Zola reminds her.

The little boy grins and looks at his sister. "Taylor's it!"

Taylor's the girl and Dylan's the boy, Meredith notes with some relief, watching the children swim together, Viv sticking close to Zola and pulling her out of the way when Taylor gets too close.

"My husband and I are both from big families," Cyn says. "We like to let them work things out on their own. Or as Jim says … either they'll get along, or they'll kill each other, but either way it will be quiet."

Meredith laughs in spite of herself.

…

With the Texans on a snack break and Zola happily churning the water a foot or so away, I'm swimming by myself, she told them proudly, Viv floats toward Meredith, then pauses, treading water in front of her.

"Meredith …"

"Yeah?"

"Do you love your baby?"

Meredith tries not to show her surprise at the rather strange question. She doesn't have to ask Viv which baby she means. "Yeah, I do."

Vivian glances over her shoulder, then lowers her voice. "More than Zola?"

Ah.

"No, not more than Zola."

"Do you love Zola more?" Vivian switches it up.

"I love them both … the most."

"But what if you had to pick?"

"That's not really how it works with parents and kids," Meredith tells her gently, hoping her discomfort isn't too obvious. "There's enough love to go around. More than enough. One day you'll see that when you have your own babies."

"I'm never having babies," Viv says firmly.

"You're not?" Meredith smiles at her, hoping to move away from the intensity of the moment. Viv's indignant expression is endearing.

"Nope. Babies kill you," Viv says matter-of-factly, and then she turns and plunges under the surface of the pool, swimming all the way to the other side underwater.

…

Carolyn is pensive when Derek returns to her hospital room. She's sitting up in the pink straight-backed chair with a blanket over her lap, and except for the absence of knitting and grandchildren and the omnipresent cedar scent of her drawer liners, she could be home at the house in Connecticut.

He leans over to kiss her cheek.

"She was already sick when she came to my scan, wasn't she." His mother looks at him for confirmation and Derek nods. "She didn't tell me, just … talked about the surgery. She didn't have to do that."

"She wanted to," Derek says quietly.

"She's too young to be sick."

Derek glances around his mother's hospital room.

"I've lived my life. My children are grown, most of my grandchildren are – " she stops, then smiles a little. "Except for Zola," she says.

"The twins are still young," Derek says, and the memory of Nancy's two youngest backing away from him in their frilly purple bedroom makes his stomach tighten a bit. Hopefully they're okay. Hopefully … Nancy knows what she's doing.

"The twins are still young," his mother repeats, her tone fond. "But they're growing up quickly. Do you know they have phones?" She says phones like it's a synonym for turning tricks on the street corner, but then again his mother resisted buying a cell phone herself for years until her three oldest ganged up on her.

He's aware the twins have phones. He has a bruise on his shin that won't let him forget it, a bruise he acquired trying to confiscate Joy's pink phone.

But they are young. Thirteen. Twelve? Either way, much too young to be caught up in Jesse's downward spiral.

Then again … Jesse's too young too.

"Is something troubling you?"

His mother used to ask him that when he was a teenager. She worried, he realized even then, that Derek would suffer the most without a father. No male parental role model. So she tried to get him along sometimes, in low pressure situations, driving him to baseball practice or asking for his help digging out the Christmas ornaments from the basement. Is something troubling you?

"My mother's in the hospital," he says.

"Come now." His mother gives him a knowing look. "I'm doing remarkably well, isn't that what Dr. Fairbanks said? I'm fairly certain I remember it correctly."

"You did make her repeat it twice," Derek teases.

"I'd make her print it on a sweatshirt if I could," his mother retorts. "Not bad for an old woman."

"You're not old."

"I'm older than a lot of the women here." His mother looks pensive again. "Is that what's bothering you? Addison being sick?"

He's not sure how to answer that.

"Mark looked worn out," his mother observes quietly. "He's been taking care of that little girl on his own…."

"With Amy's help," Derek reminds her.

"Yes." His mother looks down at the blanket on her lap. "Amy does penance in a lot of ways."

"Penance?"

His mother looks up and smiles briefly, then glances away, her well-known signal for this discussion is closed.

"Mark is having a hard time, I think," Derek says tentatively, "with everything. Anyone would, I know, but …"

"But he's Mark." Carolyn sighs. "I would imagine he's missed you."

Derek doesn't respond.

"What he did was terrible," Carolyn says quietly. "But I don't think he's ever been as close to anyone as he was to you."

"It's been – "

"- years, I know. It's just a hunch."

Derek considers this.

"Vivian is six?" Carolyn asks.

Her tone is light but Derek grasps the meaning.

"Not yet, I think. She's tall for her age," Derek says, as if that was what his mother was hinting at.

"Ah." Carolyn nods. "It must be difficult for her."

Derek thinks about Vivian's sad little face, the one that looks so much like Mark's from his childhood … except with the weight of the world reflected in it.

"Yeah," he says finally. "It is."

"Meredith has taken her under her wing ...?"

"In a manner of speaking." Derek pauses. "Vivan's not the … easiest child. Not that it's her fault," he adds, not wanting to sound like he's blaming a little girl for the unfortunate circumstances of her family. "It's … complicated, but Meredith was insistent on … helping her. I don't know why," he admits.

"Because she's a mother," Carolyn says simply.

…

Meredith and the girls outlast Cyn and her children and are soon the only ones in the pool again. After a quick break for a snack, they're back in the water. Meredith sits on the steps as Zola pokes one little foot into the pool and takes it out again.

"Cold!"

"It's warm when you get in," Viv says wisely, having already jumped off the side. She's treading water in front of them now.

Zola lounges against her mother, her cold little hands seeking warmth.

"That's my brother," Zola tells Viv proudly, patting Meredith's belly.

Viv's eyes skate over Meredith. "I have a brother too," she says.

"Like mine?" Zola's eyes widen. "In your mommy?"

Viv nods.

Zola's little face wrinkles with confusion. "Where's your mommy?"

"Zo…" Meredith prepares to intercede. "They've been through this before, and Vivian handled it well, but …

"In the hospital," Viv says. "'Cause she's sick. But it's her own fault," she adds without discernible emotion.

Meredith swallows hard, chilled by her words. It's obvious people have been talking around Vivian without realizing how much she picks up … or how much she retains.

"Viv," she begins carefully.

"Zola, try to catch me!" Viv says, and she swims off, purposefully slow to let Zola catch up and grab her, both girls' laughter echoing off the walls.

…

"The swimmers are back!" Derek smiles at them as he opens the door to the apartment. Zola jumps into his arms and he gives her a squeeze despite her dampness and the strong smell of chlorine.

"I'll get her in the bath." He leans over to kiss Meredith.

"Hey, Vivian," he adds, noticing the serious-looking little girl standing next to his wife, long wet braids hanging over her shoulders. "Did you have a nice time at the pool?"

She nods without looking at him.

"What's the plan?" Derek asks Meredith. "Is Mark –"

Vivian looks up at her father's name.

"I'm going to take Vivian home," Meredith says quickly.

"I can – "

"No, Zola hasn't seen you all day and I don't think she'll approve." Meredith smiles; Zola is hanging tightly to her father's neck, pausing in her stream of consciousness about their pool day to plant enthusiastic kisses on his face.

"Okay," Derek says. "You know where – "

She nods.

"Take a cab," Derek says.

"We will."

"How come Zola didn't come with us?" Viv asks as they walk through the air conditioned lobby.

"She's tired," Meredith tells Vivian. "Zola's littler than you, so she needs more sleep."

"Oh." Viv kicks at the curb with one of her little flip-flops. "Are we gonna walk home?"

"I think we'll take a cab."

"I can hail it," Vivian says.

Meredith smiles. "Go for it."

Vivian flags down a cab like a pro, gives the cab driver her address and then flops back against the leather seat like a tired commuter. The blaring commercial screen bursts on and Viv glances at Meredith. "My dad says having TV in cabs is barbaric," she says.

Meredith smiles again. "What do you think?"

"I like it," Viv says, turning back to the screen. She's engrossed in a colorful advertisement for a Broadway show.

The townhouse looks darkened when they arrive and Meredith is doubtful for a moment. Mark said he was home, but …

She lets Viv run ahead of her up the stairs, but then she turns back before Meredith reaches the door.

"Meredith …"

"Yeah?"

Viv looks pensive, and sad. Instinctively, Meredith brushes back some of her damp flyaways, tucking them back into her braids, and is heartened when the little girl doesn't draw away from her touch.

Vivian leans in a little closer. "Don't tell my dad what I said, okay?" Her voice is almost too quiet for Meredith to hear her.

"What do you mean, Viv?"

"He doesn't like to talk about babies," she explains. "You're not supposed to … I don't think he likes babies at all."

"Ah." Meredith pauses and then sits down on the stoop, patting the space next to her.

Vivian considers the offer for a moment and then sits down too.

"You didn't say anything wrong," Meredith tells her gently.

Viv looks conflicted. "Just don't tell him," she suggests.

"Viv…"

"He gets mad if you talk about babies. He doesn't want any more babies." Vivian pauses. "I think he wanted me … but I'm not sure."

Meredith feels her stomach tighten. The more Viv talks, the more she thinks she does need to talk to Mark about what his daughter seems to have taken away from his conflicts with her mother.

"Viv," she starts gently, but the little girl interrupts before she can finish.

"Let's go inside," she says.

Meredith hesitates, then stands up. Maybe she can get a moment with Mark alone after she drops Vivian off.

When they're both standing on the stoop, Viv pauses, one hand on the door.

"Meredith?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me swim with you." And her face moves into a genuine smile that crinkles up her blue eyes. For a moment Meredith glimpses the happy little girl she once must have been.

"Thank you for letting me swim with you," Meredith teases gently.

Viv nods, and then the smile drops off her face as she bangs on the door with one little fist before Meredith can stop her or suggest the bell.

Mark pulls the door open within a moment. "There's my mermaid." He lifts one of Vivian's damp braids and tickles her cheek with the end. "How was it?"

"Good," Viv says, handing him her little swim bag.

"Yeah? Good." Mark strokes the top of her head, looking distracted. "Thanks so much for taking her," he tells Meredith, who's followed them into the foyer, wondering if she'll be able to grab a quick moment with Mark. Maybe Amy is here to keep an eye on Vivian.

"Did she give you any trouble?"

"None. She was great," Meredith says immediately, noticing the little girl's look of relief. "Actually, um, I was wondering if –"

"Daddy!"

Suddenly Meredith notices that Viv is still standing exactly where she left her, eyes wide. Meredith is confused … but by the look on Mark's face she guesses he isn't.

"Vivi," Mark says calmly, reaching out for her, "c'mere, baby, I want to talk to you for a minute."

Vivian doesn't move. She's staring at the living room Meredith hasn't even really glimpsed yet other than to see that the lights are dim and feel the rather stale air.

She's not sure what Vivian is picking up on but her eyes widen even further.

"Mommy's home," she whispers. "Mommy's home?" She looks at Mark. "You didn't tell me!" Her tone is hurt and accusing.

"Viv, wait –"

It's too late; she's already turned and lunged for the stairs, Mark on her heels.

To be continued. Always. Enjoy? Have questions? When you were a kid, did you wear swimmies or just get tossed in the deep end like a Spartan? Review and tell me any of those things. Love to all of you, especially those in a southwesterly direction.