The Cragen Residence, Olivia's former room

Andrew Hamilton sat sullenly on the bed that he would be sharing for the foreseeable future. My life really bites. First, the Feds bust my dad, then our so-called friends drop us like toxic waste, then we have to sell the house and half of everything in it---including my PC---and then we move to Losertowni, and my folks are like, not talking much and now---

Just then, his Uncle Don entered, closing the door behind him. "First of all, you're not in any trouble, 'Drew," he said gently as he moved to the bed. "Second, I want to help, whatever's bothering you." He sat down beside the preteen, his expression compassionate.

Sighing, the boy looked down at the floor in front of him. "How? You can't change anything," he said gloomily.

"What do you want changed?" Don's tone was patient.

"How about what happened last night?!" Andrew's frown deepened, his face reddened.

Concerned, Cragen inquired calmly, "How much do you know?"

"Last night, we had just gotten in bed when Dad gets a phone call," the boy said rapidly, "and then he calls Paula from across the street to come over, but before that he looks in our rooms. I pretend to be asleep, so he kinda peeps in and then leaves in a hurry later without a word. I try to stay awake 'til he returns, but I go to sleep anyway and wake up to find Dad in the kitchen frowning at his cup of coffee. And I ask about Mom because she wasn't in her room---I checked already---and he, he says she 'got hurt' coming home from the café and that she's at Cousin Liv's resting or recovering or something, but he doesn't about it. He just kept saying that she was 'fine' and 'just needs time and space to rest' and we can talk to her later. Then he makes us pancakes, and he lets us eat up 'em in front of the TV like always, but I know something's up because he tells us to go play with our friends before we made up our beds---and plus I know about her freaking boyfriend!" His last words came out choked, and now her turned to face his uncle, bleary eyed. "Did…he do...something to her?!"

"Andrew, by 'he,' do you mean---"

"Phil! She calls him Phil!" Sobbing, Andrew moved into his uncle's offered arms, wetting his shoulder with flowing tears.

Holding his nephew, Don rubbed his back and thought: Having Marge, Maddie, and Johnny go back with Theo was definitely a good idea!

After the boy had cried, calmed down, and accepted a glass of water, Don gently resumed the conversation.

"I'm sorry about everything, Andrew," he said sympathetically, his arm around his shoulders, "and I really do want to help you as best I can. Do you have any questions you need answered? Things you don't feel ready to mention to your father?"

"Well…I don't…really want to know about…last night…but…but how bad…?" He looked at his uncle inquiringly.

"She's not injured seriously," reassured Don. At least not physically. "And Cousin Liv is with her, anyway."

Andrew sat in silent thought for a few minutes. Then he asked: "Can I speak to her? Not now, later, I mean."

Olivia's residence, 8:30PM

"…and then we made milkshakes!" Johnny's laughed so loudly that Nessie had to hold the receiver away briefly.

"What kind did you make, honey?" Nessie's easy manner belied her mood.

"Strawberry and banana split ice cream!"

"Yummy! That's three treats in one." Then she heard a voice in the background.

"OK, Mom, I have to let Andrew talk now. Bye! And get well soon!"

"Bye, sweet pea, and I will!" Her eyes filled.

There was a pause. She heard her niece's voice call out and pictured the dark-haired nine-year-old scampering after his cousin to play a game or watch TV. Then she heard her older son intone: "Mom?"

"Hi, Andrew," she managed lightly, eyes closed tightly in a vain attempt to dam her tears. "Are you…keeping up with your brother?"

"Yes, and I…but I'm still worried about you."

"Honey, I'll be all right." Somehow she managed to keep the tears from her voice. "I just need a little rest for a while."

"And then what, Mom?" His voice had a quiet urgency.

"Everything will be better, Andrew," she managed soothingly. "You'll see. Things will get better. In the meantime, you keep behaving yourself and help Aunt Marge and Uncle Don with your brother, OK?"

"Sure, Mom," he agreed grudgingly.

"All right, now, I need to speak to your uncle. Love you!"

"Back at you, Mom."

After a pause, Don said: "Nessie."

"Oh, Don, what am I going to do?!" Her tears streamed freely as she moved to sit down on the nearby living room chair. "I mean, I don't want to lie to him, and I certainly don't…I don't like what's going on with me! I don't like how I feel---I can't get any respite, not even from sleep! I keep dreaming about it and him and, and I don't know where to go from here! Don, it's not like after the funeral---I just can't hold things together anymore!" Anguished sobs followed.

"Nessie, is Olivia there?" the captain gently inquired. After a pause, Olivia's voice said: "Daddy?"

"I know you heard your aunt, and I also know how you can help her."

"Then you know me very well, Daddy," his daughter replied with gentle resolve. "I'll do everything I can."

Nessie was sitting on the guest room bed when Olivia silently entered. Her red eyes were fixed sightlessly straight ahead, but she had momentarily ceased weeping. As her niece carefully sat beside her, Nessie monotoned almost inaudibly, "I remember the first time we took you to a fancy dinner at a 5-star restaurant. I could see that you weren't accustomed to so many menu items and so many utensils. So I guided you through the meal." Slowly she turned her head to forlornly face the younger woman. "Now…I need you to guide me. Please?"

"As long you need me," the ADA replied kindly, gently covering her hand. "As long as you need me."

i Andrew is angrily and disrespectfully referring to Staten Island. The opinions of this former resident of Manhasset do not reflect the author's.