She feels taller as she stands in the kitchen at the Olinskys. Taller in a way that doesn't just revolve around her height. Hell, if she's actually thinking about it in terms of inches, she doesn't think she's grown since she was in high school. Well, not vertically, at least. But it's a feeling of growth all the same. Maybe mental growth, she supposes. Or emotional. Her perspective seems to have shifted in the time she's spent away from the house, as if it had been years since she'd last been here, rather than months. Maybe it's the sight of Rowan in the kitchen instead of Elle that's making her feel odd, or the mere fact that, with her middle sticking out like there's a weather balloon stuffed under her shirt, it's more difficult to maneuver around the benchtops and cabinets. Or maybe it's just that so much has happened since she'd last been here. Whatever it is, the house feels warped somehow, like a mirror image rather than the original.
It's not uncomfortable, exactly, or unsettling. Just odd. But as she looks around the room, she feels comforted by each familiar trinket and piece of furniture - the cuckoo clock on the hutch, the photos tacked to the fridge, the tins full of homemade biscuits on the bench, coffee stains at the bottom of Rowan's cup. "Don't ruin your appetite." Mr O warns, breaking the silence. Kate pulls her hand away from the tin she'd touched, wrapping it around herself once more.
"I won't." She promises, the words punctuated with a yawn as she leans back against the benchtop. The afternoon sun is filtering in through the windows, the world outside shades of pinks and gold. "I was just looking."
Mr O pauses his movements, glancing at the tin too. "Any luck, Elle'll be back and baking in a couple of days." He murmurs, more to himself than to her. And once again she's struck by the depth of their love for each other. For a moment, he simply stares at the tin, as though his gaze might manifest her, healthy and present, in front of them both. But then he drags his gaze away, turning to retrieve a knife from the block on the counter. "Why don't you go and sit down? You can watch some telly if you want. I'll call you when dinner is ready."
Kate smiles at him, shaking her head. "If I sit down, I might never get up again." She barely stifles a second yawn and, more for something to do rather than any real thirst, she moves to one of the cupboards. Grabbing herself a glass, she fills it at the tap and cups it between her hands. They've spent the last few days at the hospital, only coming home when visiting hours end. And although she's so delighted to see Elle healthy and be able to just talk to both the Olinskys, tiredness is seeping into her bones.
Mr O looks up from his chopping board, frowning at her. "There's filtered water in the fridge." He tells her, nodding to the appliance. Kate glances towards it obediently, even though they both know she won't retrieve it, and takes a moment to examine it. For as long as Kate can remember, it's been covered with photographs and postcards. As Kate looks at it, her gaze fixes on one of her school photos - a teenaged Kate from another life. Except that it wasn't, really. Ten years. God, so much had changed.
It's odd. Like looking at a photograph of a long-lost sister rather than herself. She feels so far away from that girl and who she'd thought she'd be, not anything like the thirteen-year-old who'd been determined to prove herself, to do well and get away. "I like tap water better." She murmurs, her throat suddenly dry, and she takes an unnecessarily large gulp of water to cover the awkward moment. Several droplets drip down her chin. It's not as if the statement is a lie, really. She's always preferred the crisp taste of water straight from the pipes, regardless of what temperature the filtered water was served at. The Olinskys had always shook their head whenever they spotted her as a child, cupping water in her hands from the tap. Something about the cool freshness was more satisfying. Another bad habit, she supposes. "Besides, at least I have a glass this time." She raises the glass like a peace offering. She draws comfort from the way he smiles at her comment. She's found herself doing that lately, analysing his reactions to his words, desperately trying to gauge how he's feeling, and how she can make it up to him.
For the most part, things have been better. She'd left the motel room in favour of the guest bedroom at the Olinskys. There have still been awkward pauses in conversations as they skate around the identity of Shrimp's father, and Kate's desertion, and she knows those particular wounds will take more than a few days to heal. But for now, there's humour too, and smiles. And that old easy flow of jokes between them both that make her feel as though things will eventually be okay. "You're a bloody smartarse." He mutters, the corners of his mouth still twitching, but otherwise says nothing more on the subject as he turns back to the recipe book open in front of him and his chopping board. He moves quickly, dicing vegetables like a TV chef, and Kate is reminded that, despite Mrs O usually being the one found in the kitchen, it was Rowan who'd taken cooking classes and bought recipe books galore. Elle would generally cook the daily meals, and cook them well, but when Rowan was able to, he'd experiment and make the most elaborate and exotic dishes, just because. "You know, you should be paying attention to this." He nods at the recipe book in front of him. "What are you going to feed this kid?"
Kate rolls her eyes, because her utter lack of culinary skills had been brought up many times before. "Well, I think I get a free pass for at least the first six months." Kate reasons with him. He shakes his head in amusement, chopping onion at a speed that, if Kate had have attempted, she would surely have lost fingers. Waving her own hands in exasperation, Kate adds, "Oh, come on, O! Everyone is at me about my diet like I'm living off takeaway and cat food. I do eat healthy."
"Salads and sandwiches aren't a balanced diet, you know." He chastises.
"Of course it is. Meat, carbs, iron, healthy stuff, sauce. The five food groups!" She ticks off each on her fingers. "Besides, I don't think I'll be sitting at home with a newborn and cooking..." She fumbles around for the name of a random dish, "Artichoke stuffed beef tenderloin."
"That doesn't mean you can't put a bit more effort into your cooking." He raises an eyebrow in her direction, still effortlessly chopping, and adds, "And I'm making you stuffed capsicums, I'll have you know. Very easy to cook once you know how. I'm sure you could manage it in Canberra too."
Kate adopts a mocking wince. "I don't think I've got fire insurance."
"Funny. Get over here. Core the capsicums while I chop these?" He catches her alarmed look and adds, "Take the seeds and middle-"
"I know what 'core' means!" She cuts him off, staring in alarm at the knife and capsicums. They scared her a whole lot more than pirates and FFVs. "I'm just scared you'll stuff me into an apron. Can't we just accept I'm no cook and move on? I really like my fingers!"
He shakes his head at her in exasperation. "Kate, what are you going to do when this baby grows?"
"Play with it! With all my fingers!"
He slides another chopping board her way. "You do know they eventually require solid foods?"
"Well, I'm familiar with the concept, I suppose." Kate quips. "But then I was thinking I'd just sell it online and start again."
He drops the capsicums into her hands with a wry smile. "Has anyone ever told you you're stubborn?"
She grins. "Once or twice."
He narrows his eyes in her direction. "I could make it an order, Lieutenant?"
Kate winces. "Low blow, Commander." She mutters, reaching for a knife. "Low blow."
They watch old taped episodes of M*A*S*H while they eat their food, the mindless repetition of the familiar show interspersed with Mr O's disapproving stares at the amount of cheese she'd dumped on her food. He'd always been like that, taking offense at the slightest addition of salt or sauces. Kate was too hungry to care (and really, the cheese was awesome). Plus, realistically, this increased need for salt really was Shrimp's fault. (Though she squashes down the slight twinge of shame she feels at the amount of times she's justified certain food choices of late by blaming her pregnancy)
It isn't until they've made their way through three episodes that they resign themselves to the washing up. The lounges are so comfortable that it's a huge effort to even pull herself to her feet, but she takes control of the washing up while Mr O wipes up. While Mr O was an amazing cook, he was also an extremely messy one, and Kate has to steadily wash her way through plates, cutlery, measuring cups, bowls and saucepans. "Anything in the kitchen you didn't use?" She teases.
"I never claimed to be tidy." He looks around at the pile of washing. "Geez, Elle would have a fit if she saw this." He pauses for a second, and then speaks with far more hesitance than Kate has ever heard in his voice. "Kate, Elle and I have been thinking..." Immediately, she tenses up, because nothing good ever seems to come from words like that. Suddenly finding herself paying more attention to a sink full of bubbles and plates than she normally would, she feels her heart begin to beat faster.
"Is this really a conversation we need to have now?" She interrupts, not looking up.
"You're going home on Saturday." He points out. Kate flicks her head in acknowledgement fo the deadline. "Besides, you don't even know what I'm about to say."
"I assume something about how I should move to Sydney?" Her voice is quite calm as she voices the question, but under the water her fingers flex, trying to dispel some of her angst. It wasn't exactly a huge leap to make. After all, Kate had used their computer to check her emails and had seen the internet history of child care in Sydney and careers at the base, not to mention the many whispered conversations between the Olinskys at the hospital that would cut off when she returned to Elle's room.
"Okay, so you know what I'm about to say." He concedes, setting the tea towel on the bench top. "Look, we know that you're capable. But even if you were here for... for six months or so? Just to get into a routine with the baby. We could clear out the back room and... and you'd still have your own space-" She makes a noise to interrupt, but he plows on. "We'd be here to help if you needed it. Elle and I could help you out with babysitting if you decided to go back to work and... and you wouldn't have such a huge financial burden on you." Kate's fingers scrub at a particularly stubborn piece of food. "You'd be able to focus more on the baby and then reevaluate your future in your own time."
She'd known that this would be proposed. She'd just hoped it would be later. "I know you want to help, but-"
"It's not just about help. There are good schools and... and nice parks. Libraries-"
"They have them in Canberra too." Kate murmurs.
"We want you both to be safe."
"And we will be." Kate sighs and pulls her hands from the water. Droplets trail down her fingers. She ignores them, turning to face Mr O. "I really, really appreciate the thought. But... but I need to do this. Sydney... it's not the place for us."
"And Canberra is?" He asks softly.
She tips her head. "For now, at least." She knows, realistically, that a one bedroom house is not a long-term solution. But it's enough for now. "I'm happy there, Rowan."
He bows his head in acceptance of her words, even though it seems as though it's costing him a huge effort. And she's reminded of her first few weeks in training, how he'd insisted on her contacting them at every chance she had, just to let them know she was okay. They'd always wanted to protect her. "Alright. I suppose I knew the answer already. But... I think you need to consider the cost of doing this alone."
"I have friends there. A support system." She assures him. "It's small, but it's there."
"That's not what I meant." He looks at her seriously, the washing up long since forgotten. "Kate, I think... I think you should sue him for some sort of child support-"
"No." Kate interjects firmly.
"Kate, this child is not just your responsibility! He should at least be contributing something to-"
"No!" Kate repeats, folding her arms across herself, as though trying to prevent his words from reaching the baby. "I've told you. The guy is not involved."
"Kate, I saw how close the two of you were. And... being in the Navy together and seeing-"
"What?" Kate feels her heart thudding in her chest. There was no way he knew. How could he? Unless... had Libby said something to him? Or Boxer? Surely not. But if he'd heard it from someone else, then they were both screwed. And she hates how her voice shakes, knows that if he says his name, her voice will confirm everything. "What do you mean, how close we were? You don't even know who..." She trails off.
She's waiting for him to say his name, to confirm that he knew all about her stupidity, her recklessness, her utter disregard for the rules. But instead, he heaves a heavy sigh. "If that Boxer is not willing to do the decent thing and-"
She actually sags in relief. He stops, looking confused at her reaction. She shakes her head. "Boxer is not the father." She almost laughs as she says it, glad that, at least for now, the secret is still a secret.
Mr O seems unwavering in his resolve. "You don't need to protect him-"
"I'm not!" Kate enunciates the two words. "Boxer and I have only ever been friends. He's... he's like a brother to me! And as for child support, I'm fine. We'll get by."
"Raising a baby is expensive-"
"I know that!" Kate rakes a hand through her hair. "Look, I know it's not going to be easy, and that you're only trying to help. I have a budget, and a bit of savings and... and with maternity leave and work I can... I can get by." Even as she says the words, she finds herself questioning them. Would it be enough? She hates how she's second guessing herself, hates that she's suddenly afraid again. "And I promise you, I'm not protecting Boxer. He and I have only ever been friends."
He's silent for only a few moments, then he adds, "What about Nick? Or that Toby guy? Is it him?"
"For God's sake, Nick was just a friend, and I haven't screwed Toby in about two bloody years!" She snaps, and Rowan flinches. "You want to add more names into the mix, or are you done?" She slams a coffee mug into the water with more force than she'd intended. Water splashes across the top of the sink, trailing down the cupboard. A moment later, she feels bad for snapping at him. Taking the tea towel, she presses it against the edge of the bench, trying to stem the dripping water and wishing she can stop the damage from the words as easily. "Look, I don't want to argue. Nor do I want to go through the list of everyone you think I might have slept with." He has the good grace to look as ashamed at her. "Please. Just... just drop it."
For a moment, Kate is sure that he is going to say something else, some other angry retort. But he seems to reconsider, bowing his head. "I'm sorry." He murmurs, and when he looks up at her, she's surprised to see tears pricking his eyes. "That was unfair." He seems to be struggling to find the words. "It's just... hard. Five minutes ago you were... were running in school sports carnivals and... and excited about getting your pen license. And now... now you're a woman. About to be a mother..." He trails off awkwardly.
She's not entirely sure what to say after this. Maybe because they've broached that unspoken boundary that they always had. It was always Elle who Kate spoke to about relationships. Never Rowan. Truth be told, Kate was surprised that Mr O had even knew Toby's name, considering he'd certainly never met him. Not that Toby had ever been a serious relationship, anyway. Just someone she'd met at a bar and would only see whenever they happened to be in the same town. Which, considering he was a sales rep that traveled Australia, was never very often. The only reason Elle even knew about him was because they'd happened to bump into him one day shopping. But Mr O had never involved himself in Kate's romantic life. In fact, Kate knows that, if she hadn't currently been pregnant, or just confirmed that she'd slept with Toby, he would have carried on convincing himself that she was still a virgin.
"I'm sorry too." She murmurs, even though she's not too sure exactly what she's apologising for. Growing up, perhaps. Or running away, or snapping at him just then. Mostly, she's just sorry that he's here now and she's reduced strong Commander Rowan Olinsky to tears. Mike's name is on her lips, and she so desperately wants to be able to trust him, to give him that one piece of information he feels he so desperately needs. But she knows she can't. "You're still my Dad." She murmurs, because it's the only thing she can say. "No matter what."
"I think Rose is a beautiful name." Elle announces to them both, mutely handing the small cup of fruit to Mr O. He peels back the label obediently, before handing it back to her. "Don't you think?"
"I suppose." Kate agrees hesitantly, shifting her chair slightly so that she's out of the warm sunshine now flooding in through the window of Elle's hospital room. Lately she's been finding her body temperature almost as temperamental as her, so that she's boiling hot one minute, and freezing cold the next. She hadn't exactly brought along a wide selection of clothing either when she'd packed, but she'd made a mercy dash to kmart and was now, at least, in clean clothes, even if their maternity clothing wasn't quite her usual style. Unconsciously, she fiddles with the hem of her shirt.
"What's wrong with Rose?" Elle presses, taking her movement for evasiveness or disagreement.
"Nothing!" Kate assures her. It's the truth, really. There's nothing wrong with the name Rose. In fact, Kate finds she rather likes it. She doesn't love it, exactly, in the way she feels she should love any name of her unborn child. "I just... I kind of hope I'm having a boy." Once she admits the words, she wishes she could stuff them back, because she has no real reason to wish this, aside from her own disastrous relationship with Donna.
She knows it's an odd thing to say, and braces herself for the confusion or digging at any reason why this would be the case. Elle seems to accept the response however, shifting slightly in the bed before asking, "Well, then. Have you thought of any names for him?"
"You don't like Shrimp?" She asks, blinking innocently at her. Day by day, Elle has been looking more and more like her old self, and had been told that if her condition remained the same, she could be discharged the next day. "Not really, no." It's a lie, because she's found herself thinking of one name in particular, more and more. Flynn. More and more, she's found herself imagining a little boy with Mike's floppy brown hair, running around just as manically as Tony. And she's always imagined him as Flynn. But she knows she can't say the name aloud. A moment later, however, she finds herself contradicting this very thought. After all, why shouldn't she be allowed to name a son Flynn? It was a name. Just a name. There was no reason that Mr O would automatically connect it to Mike.
"Kate?" Mrs O presses. Kate snaps herself back to reality.
"I'm just... just trying to wrap my head around being a Mum, you know? It's..." She trails off awkwardly, forcing herself once more to get it together, to be normal. "Ah, there's a few names I like. But I'm not sure. Not until I see them, anyway. Naming them before... it sort of feels like jinxing it. Until I'm holding them in my arms..." She falls silent again, slightly ashamed, even though she's said nothing wrong.
There's an awkward silence, and Kate realises that, out of all people, Elle Olinsky might just be the one to understand this. Kate doesn't know exactly how many miscarriages she'd had, and she knows she'll never ask. There's a small silence, in which the weight of everything unsaid between them seems to swell. And then Elle nods curtly. "We always liked Felix. For a boy." The name Flynn is once again on the tip of her tongue, but Elle changes the subject. "So, you're still intent on leaving tomorrow night?"
"Yes, she is." Mr O interjects, before Kate has a chance to answer. She turns and smiles at him gratefully. Though he obviously wasn't pleased with her continued insistence that she was returning to Canberra, he had refrained from voicing any further protests after their argument the previous night. It was almost as though they'd both reached a truce, with neither of them agreeing with the others' point of view, but choosing to move past it in favour of keeping the peace.
"Yes." Kate affirms, smiling gratefully at Mr O. "I've got to get back to work on Friday. And I have plans on Saturday."
Mr O's eyebrows shoot up as he catches her eye. "You... you have plans, do you?"
"Yeah." Kate grins as he splutters anxiously. "With a lovely young man, actually."
He and his wife exchange glances. "And... and these plans are?" He stammers, looking unsure if he wants to know the answer.
Kate has to smother the laughter that bubbles inside her as Tony answers the door. Flicking her tongue into her cheek, she fakes a look of curiosity as she peers at him. "Uh, where is it were going again?" She queries, tipping her head to the side as though in deep thought.
"You're so funny." Tony rolls his eyes, although a smile splits his own face. Kate takes a step back as he pushes open the flyscreen door and steps onto the front porch to stand next to her. "I like dinosaurs, okay?"
Kate keeps her look of confusion upon her face. "Oh, do you? Cos... I thought we were headed to the mint? Geez. Egg on my face, hey?" Tony sticks his tongue out at her and tugs down the hem of his dinosaur print shirt, and Kate hastens to reassure him, knowing that the joke has gone far enough. "Nah, you look awesome, Tony."
"Is it too many dinosaurs?" He asks, looking uncharacteristically concerned. Along with his dinosaur print t-shirt, he has dinosaur shorts, dinosaur shoes and even dinosaur shoelaces. To complete the look, he is also holding a backpack patterned with, of course, dinosaurs. "I just wanted to be in the spirit of the day and everything."
"Definitely not, Tony. I wish they made dinosaur stuff in preggo sizes." Tony seeks out her gaze, but seems to detect no further malice in her eyes and smiles as Heidi appears behind him, a gurgling Ellie seated on her hip.
"Kate, if you're too tired to take him-" She begins, but Kate holds her hands up to stem Heidi's spiel.
"Oh, definitely not! I am a huge dinosaur nerd and this has been the only thing getting me through this ridiculous week. Besides," She turns her gaze to Tony. "It's our birthday present to each other, right?" She'd discovered that she and Tony's birthdays were only a fortnight apart and, after she'd found herself watching Jurassic Park with Tony, they'd both made plans to visit the National Dinosaur Museum together.
Heidi looks slightly disbelieving, but agrees all the same. "Okay. Well, as long as Tony didn't pressure you..." She trails off as Tony pushes open the door and races towards Kate's car without a second glance. "Enjoy!"
"Okay, all I'm asking is how do scientists know what dinosaurs sounded like?" Tony presses, hands gesticulating wildly as Kate glances in the rear view mirror. "I mean, everyone reckons dinosaurs roar, right? But what if they purred or... or squeaked or made some other weird sound that humans have never even thought of before?" Tony punctuates the thought as he slaps a hand upon his legs. Kate laughs as she flicks the indicator on to turn onto their street.
The dinosaur museum had brought out her inner geek, and Kate had unashamedly purchased a dinosaur onesie from the gift shop for Shrimp, hoping that they would have at least inherited that one interest of hers. "I think that is a question worthy of a future paleontologist."
He nods eagerly, flicking through the book he'd bought, full of skeletel images as well as artists' renderings of each species. "Hey, maybe Shrimp should have a dinosaur name." Tony turns the page. "What about Rex? Or Raptor?"
"Steg." Kate suggests, and Tony roars with laughter. "What?!" Kate presses.
"Steg McGreg." He chuckles, and Kate joins in the laughter.
"Oh, that's more tragic than just calling him Shrimp." Kate concedes, as they pull into her driveway. She's exhausted, ready to crash on her lounge with a good movie and spend Sunday resting.
"You could be having a girl." He reminds her. "Although... you reckon Steg can be for a girl as well? Hey, you have people here."
"What?" Kate frowns, not following the change in conversation. In response, Tony raises a hand and points towards Kate's front door.
"There." He nods in the direction for emphasis. "Look. There's someone there."
Kate follows his gaze, and her jaw drops as she recognises who it is.