186.

Noah meandered around the backyard with Sarah's phone on a Face Time call with Caroline. She was back from Atlantic City and promised she'd won "millions." It was pouring rain in New York and she was now hunkered down at home planning to catch up on Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy thanks to the DVR feature included with her cable package Brooke had recently shown her how to use. Before the shows, though, she wanted to know all about what the family had been up to, and Noah was more than happy to give her the run down.

"He's literally telling her every detail," Sarah said, "It's a little frightening how he remembers everything so well. Every second of every day."

"I wonder how far back he remembers," Brooke mused, "Like, does he remember before Dad? Or was he so young he doesn't even realize there was a time in his life when Dad wasn't around?"

"Livvie has a gazillion pictures," Sarah said, "I'm sure he's asked why Dad isn't in the early ones."

"How old was Noah when they met?" Justin asked.

Sonny quipped, "Negative twenty."

Justin rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"He was almost two, well, I don't know what date they use for when they got together, but let's say two," Brooke replied, "He was definitely two when we met him."

"What was that like?" G asked.

"Omigod," Sarah said, "It was so fun. We had a picnic in the park and I barely had a chance really to get to know Noah because I was spying on Dad and Livvie the whole time, but it was a blast. And, before that, we totally barged into the office. Remember, Sonny? We met you there!" Sarah heaved her head of blonde hair forward and retied her ponytail.

"I remember," Sonny grinned, "I was wondering why in the world Lieutenant Tucker's daughters were there. Now I realize I'm an idiot for not putting two and two together right then."

"How long was it a secret?" G asked.

Sarah and Brooke exchanged glances.

"A year?" Brooke speculated.

"At least," Sarah said.

"Damn that musta been tough," Justin said. He draped one of his skinny, gangly arms across Sarah's shoulders, "To be with someone but not really with them? Not for me."

Sarah tilted her head against his. "I don't know," she said, "There's something romantic about it. Like...it was a whole love story to themselves. I think Daddy got sick of keeping it all secret eventually, but, well, that was the price he had to pay."

Brooke chuckled sarcastically.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"You quantify everything," Brooke replied, "Even love."

"Everything is quantifiable one way or another," Sarah said, "And everything has a price. For example, what is the cost of Sonny staying here today? He will have to deal with his mother and sisters tomorrow when he's late dropping off Sof. And G? What is the cost for you?"

"I am getting nothing done at work," G admitted though she didn't sound the least bit troubled, "I have my laptop, I could work, I simply do not want to. Not here. I could maybe write a novel here but not plan benefits and events."

"Can you please sit me next to someone famous at the Benson Center thing?" Sarah said. "I don't care who it is. I'm so fascinated with the lives of the rich and famous. Who's the most famous person attending?"

"Probably the cast of the show."

"Oh, so...Wyatt's the big star." Sarah giggled at her own joke. Then, reminded they were in charge of the little humans, she leaned over for a glance inside the house. Wyatt and Maggie were still conked out together in the Papasan chair. They put up a minor fuss when Sarah tried to get them to go upstairs for their nap, so she let them stay there. Sofia was compliantly snoozing in the Pack and Play. "You can sit me next to Wyatt."

"I don't know that kids are invited," G said, "Although I did tell Noah he could be my assistant."

"A decision you will not regret," Sarah said. "Noey is the world's best assistant."

Brooke suddenly groaned and looked up from her phone to find everyone's eyes curiously focused on her. "Aidan," she said, "He blocked me from his Instagram. What did I do to him? He's not responding to my texts, blocks me on every social media. I don't get it. Are you blocked, Sarah?"

"I don't know and I don't care if a teenager wants to block me."

"He's graduated from high school!" Brooke said. "Well, maybe that's it. After he moved away we didn't keep in touch. At all."

"We tried." Sarah said of the few times they'd called Aidan's phone to check in and received one or two word answers to every question.

It hurt Brooke's feelings, but the lack of response annoyed Sarah. She and Brooke had stepped up to take care of him after Dave's arrest and their mom's passing, and the kid wasn't the least bit grateful. At least, that's how she saw it. Brooke gave the boy a little more grace.

"He sure changed," Sonny said, "Total goth."

"Total," Brooke emphasized.

"Went from preppy Long Island lacrosse player to the dark side," Sarah said, "Well, I guess losing a mother and having a con father will do that to you."

Sarah always spoke of their mother and the killing of Brooke's former student with such detachment, Brooke almost had to remind herself she shared Angela with Sarah and Aidan. To someone hearing Sarah tell the story, Angela was a stranger and Dave was a reckless asshole. Kyle, Brooke's student, was rarely mentioned.

"How long has it been since your mom died?" G asked meekly, as if she regretted the question a second after she verbalized it.

Sarah and Brooke exchanged another look.

How long had it been?

"Two years," Sarah said.

"Really?" Brooke asked incredulously.

"Yes," Sarah said, "Just over two years."

"How have I not-"

Sarah screwed up her face, "-don't beat yourself up about not remembering."

"But I do! How horrible am I?"

"Far less horrible than I." Sarah saw the anguish etched on Brooke's face and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, "Look, Brookey, I for one am not interested in marking dates of people's deaths. We take flowers to her grave on her birthday, do a grave blanket in the winter, we are good daughters. I really don't think it's healthy to recognize a death date. I think it's healthier that you didn't remember. You're moving on. Ugh," Sarah turned to G, and asked, half-jokingly, "How's your relationship with your mother?"

"I'm on vacation with people I didn't even know a year ago," G said, "So...that should tell you something."

"Yeah," Sarah said, "Moms are tough. Which is why I thank my lucky stars for Livvie. And for Carmen. Jus, your mom is perfect, too."

Justin smiled and nodded in agreement.

"And Sonny, your mom's a little wacko, but that's an Italian for you."

Sonny lifted his beer bottle to acknowledge the point.

"I guess," G said, "My relationship with my mom has always been me trying to prove I'm not a burden."

"What do you mean?" Brooke asked.

"Well, she and my Dad had kids really young. All I can remember is them working, arguing about bills, working, and going on vacation once a year to the beach. They weren't mean or abusive or anything, it was more like, we were all just trying to get to the next day. It was eighteen years of trying to get to the next day. And then I left for college and never went back, well, not for any extended period of time."

"You never had a real mother to talk to." Sarah uttered the sentence as a statement and not a question. She knew exactly what it was like to endure formative years with a distracted mother.

"No...I guess not...so now, here I am, almost thirty and the deepest conversations I've ever had with other people have been here after a night of drinking."

Justin shrugged and offered a compassionate smile. "Whatever works," he said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. Then, suddenly realizing Noah's voice hadn't been heard for several minutes, jumped up. Breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Noah in one of the Adirondacks, he called out to him. "Hey! No! Whatcha doin?"

"Watchin' Pearl at da dog hotel!" Noah replied with a huge grin. "She's SUPER HYPER!"

"Dog hotel?" Sonny asked.

"Yes," Sarah replied, "What did you think we did with her?"

"I dunno, a dog walker?"

"Oh no," Sarah said, "She's at the spa. She loves it there."

"A dog spa?" Brooke asked.

"Yes. It's lovely," Sarah replied. She caught sight of Ed and Olivia approaching from the beach. They each had two plastic bags in their hands. "Ope...Mom and Dad are back. Ten bucks says they have fifty pounds of shrimp we're grilling for dinner."

"Sounds good to me," Sonny said.

"I can't remember being without power this long," Brooke said.

"At least it's cool and we can open the windows. And the water's running," Sarah said. "I think it's a sign everyone needs to stay until the Fourth."

Sonny and Justin both mumbled something about having to get back, but G said nothing. Sarah had been drinking all day, and even though she sounded perfectly lucid, the invitation wasn't technically hers to make. G desperately wanted to stay longer. She was starting to relax and feel like herself again. She felt safe in the house and in the bright, airy guest room with the window seat. Somewhere between the house and the beach Noah had met his parents and shouted "CRAB BOIL!"

Despite not having electricity and the weather being subpar, the day had been one of G's favorites. And now, they were going to attempt a crab boil over the bonfire pit. G anticipated some gentle teasing and ribbing and funny observations from Noah. She was certain she and the others would be called upon to keep the little ones away from the flames and she pictured herself chasing Maggie and Wyatt around and around the yard until the twins eventually crashed into one another and collapsed in one giggly heap. If this had to be her last day in Delaware, she was determined to make the most of the evening ahead.

….

The farmhouse-style dining room table bore its share of nicks, dents, and scratches from years of use and abuse under the hands of children playing, painting, drawing, and constructing. At one point, after a six-year-old Maggie carved a small "M" with a butter knife at her place, Olivia decided to let each of the kids etch their own initial into the wood. She and Ed followed suit. Now, almost forty years later, the "O" and "E" were even more prominent at the ends of the table where nobody could bring themselves to sit.

"Everything's really good guys," Mia said as she gobbled a shrimp. "And the butter...what is this...garlic parsley?"

"Yes," Ava said, "I made it up with what we had. Not bad."

"Very very good," Mia said. She wiped dribbles of butter from the faces of her children who were flanking her on the bench. Noah was on the end, teetering on the edge. On the other side of the table, Wyatt and Ava each had their own chairs, but they were holding two of their four children in their laps. "Okay, guys, um, I know this is not the time, but I don't know when the time is going to be...but...we're either going to have to sit in Ed's and Olivia's seats or get a bigger table. And I don't think we want a bigger table."

Ava agreed with Mia. The two Tucker wives had been debating how to face many difficult changes, and seemingly little things like seating arrangements had been at the top of their list.

Wyatt and Noah locked eyes.

"We should probably see what Maggie thinks," Wyatt said. Even in adulthood, he always included his sister in decisions and often deferred to her.

"Mia's right," Noah said. "No matter what, the table stays."

Wyatt nodded. He looked out over the hand carved letters and the carbon copies of art projects. He remembered how his mother's hands gripped the serving dishes as she passed them on, and how his dad always looked straight into her eyes when he gave the dinner toast. There was always a toast. It didn't matter if they were eating take out Chinese or Pizza or feasting on what became Ed's famous surf and turf. There was always, always a toast.

Which they'd forgotten.

"Uh," Wyatt grunted, "We didn't cheers."

"TEERS!" Wyatt's two-year-old exclaimed.

He smiled at his daughter and kissed the top of her head. "We, uh, alright, I'll start."

"Okay," Noah said, relieved his little brother was taking over.

Wyatt paused and took a deep breath. His Dad was so good at toasts. At speaking his mind. At everything. He briefly considered sliding over to his seat, but, how dare he? Wyatt was nowhere near the man Ed Tucker was.

"A toast," Wyatt began, his voice shaking as if he were addressing a much larger crowd, the way it shook when he presented a paper or gave a talk even though he was never, ever, nervous about his work, "To Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, for taking a leap of faith and buying this house so we could have and will have all of these good times here. It's not the same," Wyatt choked up a bit, "But I'm sure they both want us here to celebrate summer, the Fourth of July, and carry on our traditions. Like this surf and turf which is, as Mia first said, very delicious." Wyatt raised his glass higher, "To all of us," he said, "But especially to Mom and Dad."

"CHEERS!"

…

"Well I think the crab boil was a success," Ed murmured into Olivia's ear. They were cuddled on the porch loveseat covered by a huge beach blanket and sipping what was left of the sangria. The others had faded quickly after dinner, barely making it through a cornhole tournament, and five minutes after they all decided to go to bed, the lights came back on. "Funny," Justin said as they made their way inside, "I started not to miss it."

Everyone nodded. Having no power for an entire day threatened perishables, but it had been a bit of an adventure, a little adversity, and they responded well. Ed kicked himself for not owning a generator and ordered one the next day, but they had plenty of propane to prepare meals and the crab boil had been perfect.

Olivia hugged Ed's arms to her chest. "The longer I'm here, I miss the city less and less."

"What are you sayin?"

"I would never take Noah out of his school. He loves it so much. And I love the city. I do. It's just...I never knew how to disconnect before we lived here, and now I do, and I like myself here. I like all of us here."

"Me too," Ed replied, "But I knew you wanted a beach place a few hours after we got to my place in Kill Devil."

Olivia chuckled softly, "That seems like such a long time ago."

"It was. Almost five years."

"That's not a long time. In five years we went from...oh shit we're living together for a week...to actually...living together."

"I think it's working out pretty well," Ed joked.

"Very well." Olivia buried her head further under Ed's chin. "Mmm...I might fall asleep."

"Okay."

Olivia smiled and closed her eyes. In the distance, the ocean rocked against the shore. Very faintly, she could hear the live band at the seafood shack starting up their set. She imagined the immediate coastline as a painting. A lot of chaos and nature, noise and neon from the boardwalk, but, somewhere in the landscape, there she was, secure in the arms of her husband, loving every sensation.

….

Ed set the bottle between two of the security door grates and muttered that some homeless guy would be incredibly happy to find the half-full pint of whiskey. He and Olivia agreed to get burgers at another pub nearby. It was a huge monstrosity of a place and they were sure to disappear in the crowd of soccer lovers, even as they sat at the bar. Despite the crowd, they found a spot near the front which had a terrible view of the television screens and was thus deserted. "You don't want to watch, do ya?" Ed asked as they pulled off their coats.

"No," Olivia said, "But thank you for asking."

"You into any sports?"

"I'm always a fan of New York teams," Olivia said, "But, I guess, not really. I tried to be a Mets fan when I-" She stopped abruptly.

Ed knew exactly where she was going. "-yeah, Cassidy was a Mets fan."

"How did you know?"

"He was IAB for ten minutes."

"Well, yeah," Olivia screwed up her face, "But I didn't get the vibe that you had all chatted about baseball very often."

"We didn't. He had a picture of the '69 team in his cube."

"Ah! Well, he's Mets. You're Yankees...why's that?"

Ed held out his hands, palms up, "I was born in the Bronx."

"And that forever labels you?"

"For us, yes."

They let several minutes pass. People watched. Tried to make sense of the soccer game. The bartender returned and Ed ordered another round. Olivia seemed distant. Not in a bad way, but, distant all the same.

"So, uh, you want to order, or-"

"Ed," Olivia grabbed his arm just above the wrist. "I want this not to be complicated. We're both thinking the same thing. I, just, I don't, I want this to be really simple. Does that make any sense? Everything in my life has always been tangled and blurry and, this….I just want this to not be that way."

Unfazed, Ed replied, "Tell me how I can make that happen."

"I don't want either of us to make it happen," Olivia said, "I want it to...happen. And it has, Ed. It has.

"It has?"

"I want us to be us," she said, "I want to let it happen. I don't owe anyone some big announcements. I don't want a show, Ed, I just...want us to be together."

"I want that too."

"Okay, so.."

"I think we have dinner?"

"Yeah," He dared to kiss her, "Let's have dinner. Then I'm gonna tell you about the ass beating I got when I got caught sneaking into Yankee Stadium."

"Ed Tucker broke a rule?"

"That was the last one."

….

Olivia made coffee and wandered onto the porch ready to be alone but finding G sitting on the swing. "Hey there," she said, taking note of the fact it looked like G had been there for a while. "Do you mind if I join you?"

G laughed, "It's your house. Of course not."

"But, my house or not, it means different things for different people."

"This is a great house," G said, " It's one of the best places I've ever been. I-"

"-then don't feel like you have to leave," Olivia said, "If you need to work, go back to the city. You can always go back to the city. But if you can make it work and be here, then be here. I see how much you love it here. And I get it. And," Olivia winked, "I think you can make it work."

"Well, my biggest project right now is...yours."

"Exactly." Olivia curled her legs under herself. "So I think you should stay a little longer." She drank her coffee and peered out into the ocean. "Like I said, stay as long as you want…"

G wanted to respond, but Olivia was almost zen-like, in her own little world. It broke when Ed showed up, said hi, kissed Olvia, and handed her another coffee which they sipped as they walked away, toward the beach. G watched them walk along the coast, out of sight. Olivia had practically melted into his arms. She was so happy to let him take her wherever on their walk.

"Who gets that?" She asked to no one. "Who the fuck gets that?" She said to the air in front of her. She ran into the surf and dove in, clothes and all. She'd seen a character in a movie do this once and it functioned like a sort of baptism-a rebirth and a fresh start. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH! FUCK FUCK FUCK." She bobbed her head in and out of the saltwater at battled against the power of the waves and her sodden clothes.

She scurried back to the house as quickly as she'd fled to the water. After drying off, she darted upstairs, quickly changed clothes, and went back downstairs.

She grabbed her coffee but sensed a presence. She turned around and saw Maggie's face pressed against the door.

"Hi Maggs!"

"I wayup, G!"

"Yep, me too, want a juice?"

Maggie nodded.

G gave Maggie a Capri Sun. "What else?"

"You sit," Maggie said with a glance at the porch swing, "An'rock."

G smiled and cuddled Maggie. "Okay. That sounds good to me."

…

#Tuckson