Melting Magnets

Chapter Twenty-Six

She's Quite Unusual

"Do you want to talk about that?" Deborah's words rang through the room. Slowly, Olivia dropped the pen she had been holding, her eyes focused on the words she had scrawled on the notepad before her. She knew, without looking, that Deborah's gaze was fixated on her arm. She'd discarded Fitz's button-up earlier, lounging at the glass patio table in a wine-coloured cami. The way her arm lay on the table had exposed the scars criss-crossing the delicate skin of her inner elbow.

"I'd rather not." She didn't talk about the scars. Or the cutting. Not with her therapist. Not with Fitz. Not even with Viti. It was her secret - her escape. Sure it had been a while since she had worked up the courage to run a blade across her skin, but it didn't mean she didn't still have thoughts. Sometimes.

"Are they recent?"

Olivia continued to study her writing as if it were the most fascinating thing present. Thinking back to the evening after Fitz's fight with her mother, right after Thanksgiving, she shook her head. They weren't that recent. And that had been the last relapse she had had. Although it had been a regular part of her life in France, she had been able to suppress the urge, for the most part, here.

"Don't tell him?" Olivia finally lifted her head, turning her dark, imploring gaze to the older woman. Her heart sank at the brief, conflicting look that passed Deborah's face.

"Olivia, I am ethically and legally bound to report incidences in which an individual appears to be of harm to themselves or others." Deborah interlaced her fingers on the glass tabletop, twisting the black, titanium ring on her thumb.

"You're going to tell him?"

"No. At the moment, you do not appear to be of harm to yourself and you admitted that the scars are not recent. With that said, I do want you keep what I said in mind."

"I want to tell him, but…" Olivia's gaze fell to her hands.

"He isn't going to judge you, Olivia. I like to think I raised my son better than that."

Olivia nodded. Deep down, she knew Fitz wouldn't judge. He'd be overattentive and more mindful of leaving her alone, but he wouldn't judge her.

"I'm going to tell him. Eventually."

Deborah glanced at her from over the tops of her glasses, shuffling the papers that lay before her on the table, "I would suggest sooner rather than later. Healthy relationships aren't built on keeping secrets from one another."

"I know."

The two went back to quietly working side-by-side. Olivia was ironing out the final details for the employee outing, asking for Deborah's input occasionally. Deborah, for her part, was sifting through what looked to Olivia to be a very serious report. There were graphs, monetary figures, and plenty of small print.

Olivia's attention fell on the sliding glass door as it opened and Fitz stepped onto the patio, his cell glued to his ear. Smiling at her, he acknowledged her presence as he placed a hand in his pocket, leaning against the brick of the house and speaking in hushed tones. Deborah glanced over her shoulder at her son, pulling her glasses from her face and laying them atop her stack of papers.

"Getting anything accomplished?" Fitz pecked Olivia's cheek after he finished his phone call, taking an empty seat between her and his mother.

"Quite a bit."

"We both have," Deborah stated, "And now, I think you and I need to have a conversation."

"You've been going over the reports."

"We were close, Fitz. So close. Why would you pull the plug on this project? You've never been one to bow to the president."

Fitz's intense blue gaze fell from his mother, focusing on the woman beside him instead. Deborah sighed, shaking her head, slowly as she questioned:

"What did he say?"

"First he threatened to pull all government contracts. When I called his bluff, he threatened other methods. He has quite a few ties to Dhinga, mom…"

"And doesn't like that my research was about to make all psychiatric drugs for schizophrenia obsolete."

"I didn't want to pull the plug, mom, but I'm not the only one I have to worry about anymore." He reached under the table, placing his hand on Olivia's knee. Moving her hand under the table, she laid it atop his, rubbing his thumb.

"Have you talked to Huck?"

"He's working on it, but for now: the project is effectively dead. It has to be."

Deborah nodded, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. Pursing her lips, Olivia turned toward Fitz:

"So your company has government contracts?"

"We design and build most military-grade equipment, surveillance, and have an extensive medical research team that works, more than not, in tandem with the CDC and military. It's high-profile, extremely sensitive, and entirely confidential. On the surface, for the press, we're a law firm that developed an established real estate profile-presence."

"You're technically not supposed to tell me what you do, are you?"

"Not without you being an employee and well-vetted by my security team as well as the government. Not to mention the NDA that I'm supposed to have signed by anyone receiving that information."

"He must like you a lot," Deborah winked from across the table, "He even made me sign that paper."

"You're an employee, mom."

"You wouldn't even tell Mellie what you do," Deborah pointed out, shrugging off his comment.

"She doesn't know?" Olivia turned her attention to the man holding her hand.

"She only knows the official public description of Grant Enterprises."

"And I'm not supposed to tell anyone?"

"I would prefer that you not, but there's nothing stopping you."

"That's not necessarily true."

"Oh?"

"I love you, so I wouldn't blurt that out to anyone."

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her palm, "I love you, too."

/

"Mama?" Fitz entered the dim den, peering out the window to see that Olivia was still swimming lazily around the pool.

"Yes?" Deborah turned her attention to her son, resting the book she had been reading on her knee.

"Do you still have grandmother's ring?"

"The gold one -"

"Yes."

A smile crossed Deborah's face and her eyes twinkled as she raised a hand in an attempt to cover the grin on her face: "You want to give it to her."

"If it's okay with you."

Placing her book on the table by the chair she was reclining in, she used the arms of the chair to push herself into a standing position. Without saying a word, she rounded the chair, crossing the room, and threw her arms around her son. Pulling away, she held him at arms-length, her hands on his elbows.

"I never thought I would hear you ask for it. I was beginning to think I would have to pass it down to one of your cousins."

"Giving it to Mellie wasn't right," he began, explaining why he was just now asking for the piece, "I want Olivia to have it."

"You're going to propose?"

"Not yet. I asked Eli and he gave me his blessing. I want to promise her that, one day, I will ask her to marry me."

"She's a lucky girl," Deborah patted his shoulder, moving back toward her chair, "And I'm not just saying that because you're my son."

"I'm the lucky one."

"I'll have it shipped to you sometime this week. I'm flying to Vermont, Monday."

"You don't have to rush about it. As long as I have it by the end of the month. I planned a two-week trip to Africa for her. She doesn't know about it, yet, and I want to give her the ring while we're there."

"Africa?"

"We're going to be doing conservation work while we're there. She loves that stuff."

Pulling her glasses from atop her head and settling them on the bridge of her nose, Deborah sat on the chair she had vacated earlier, "You know I love Mellie, so I don't want you to take this as any form of slight toward her, but there is something…wholesome and innocent about Olivia. I can't wait to call her my daughter."

"Soon, mama. Soon."

/

"What are you up to, beautiful?"

Olivia turned her head briefly at Fitz's voice, acknowledging his presence in the doorway of the bedroom before turning her attention back to the flat screen hanging on the wall. Her legs were bent, feet dangling in the air, as she lay on her stomach, attention focused on the video game she was playing.

"Trying not to die," she answered, truthfully. He chuckled, moving fully into the room and sitting beside her, the soft mattress dipping under his weight. Moving a hand to her butt, he placed his hand on the round, firm skin that was barely covered by her silk pyjama set.

"I forgot I even had that game," he commented as she swore, tapping furiously at the controls. She was doing everything she could, backing her character away from the large, animalistic beast on the screen, as she fired round after round at the creature.

"It's not even that old," she stated, breathing a sigh of relief when the virtual creature fell and other characters came filling out of the old museum building in the game, congratulating her on her victory.

"My mom likes you." He trailed his hand over her butt, under her shirt and began rubbing circles on her heated skin.

"I like her."

"So, I was thinking that the two of us should take a vacation before your fall semester starts."

"Oh?" she rolled onto her back, tugging his hand free of her body and interlacing her fingers with his. She was quick to press pause on the controller before tossing it to the side.

"A nice, romantic trip to Kenya. We'll work with the Rocha Conservation."

"Have I told you before that you're perfect?" Olivia grinned, giggling when he leaned over her, bringing his lips to hers.

"Not nearly enough."