203. Again, sorry for the long gap between chapters! This is probably my busiest time of year at work!
The first day Wyatt was scheduled to film fell on a weekday afternoon, later in the day, so he didn't miss school. Olivia appreciated the accommodation and thanked the showrunner who grinned, mussed Wyatt's hair, and insisted they would do anything they could to keep him and the Tuckers coming back. They even brought in a smoothie machine as part of craft services. Wyatt squealed with delight when he saw one of the attendants dump fresh fruit into the container, turn it on, and, a minute or so later, present him with a fancy drink complete with lime garnish and red-and-white-striped straw. Olivia wished she could accept the kindness without skepticism, but she had a hard time believing show business bigwigs decided to be genuinely kind and generous with a three-year-old and his family. Nevertheless, she and Ed decided it was fine for Wyatt to stay on the show. They were always around, always with him, and Olivia did love watching him "play pretend" with the actors. He was great at it.
This first shoot of the new season involved the main character working through her guilt at fatally shooting a perp. Olivia remembered watching the previous season's finale and feeling like the show almost too closely tracked an officer's genuine emotions. In the premiere, the lead actress channeled the aftermath of the shooting so well, it was both scary and stunning. Transfixed, Olivia sat on the edge of her chair, fists balled, biting her lower lip, even through the many stops and starts. Midway through the scene, another character, a male who was probably being set up to be her love interest, knocked on the apartment door in the middle of a melancholy monologue. The knock "woke up" Wyatt, and, right on cue, he called out, "Mommy!"
A few eyes diverted from the actors to Olivia. Many of the producers and writers were parents, and a few were sensitive to how a Mommy directed at another woman could sting. Olivia didn't flinch. By now, she was used to it. And it wasn't like Wyatt was confused. After the final cut, he ran to Olivia and jumped into her lap. "Ah' done, Mama!" He said, curling into her chest, "I have another smoothie?"
Olivia grinned and nodded. Minutes later, a second smoothie arrived.
On the way home she started to notice another new, unintended consequence of Wyatt's acting career. During the scene, he'd been on the couch, placidly watching television while his TV mother talked to her colleague. The guy had a thick New York accent, more prominent than anyone Wyatt had ever spent time around. And now, Wyatt was speaking with dsicernible Noo Yawk flair. Olivia prompted him to repeat a few words and phrases to be sure and chuckled as she drove home.
"Your Daddy's going to love this," Olivia murmured.
"Wha'you'say, MAH?" Wyatt asked from the backseat.
Olivia laughed even more. The Mah sounded exactly like how Ed said it when he was annoyed with Caroline, but there was an urban edge to Wyatt's tone and hilarious coming out of a child's mouth. We're going to have some fun with this, she thought. Even more amusing, he would probably show up at preschool the next day sounding like a street tough when he'd already been in trouble.
Ed noticed right away. "What'd they do to him?" He asked, "Make him watch Taxi Driver?"
"The actor," Olivia searched her brain for his name, "He was laying the accent on thick. Wyatt was there for a while, listening. It looked like he was watching cartoons but he was getting a linguistics lesson."
Ed grinned, "I cannot wait to pick them up from school tomorrow."
Olivia rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. "I bet."
….
Ed wrapped himself in a towel and sat on a poolside chaise. He and the boys had been in the pool for an hour when multiple families gradually descended upon the area. With more kids around, Ed climbed out and parked himself on the lounge, ceding control of the water to the younger ones. He ordered a beer and a couple of frozen kid drinks for Noah and Wyatt, sat back, and relaxed. He was proud of himself for spearheading the weekend getaway. Everyone was happy. Olivia and Maggie were at the resort spa. He and the boys hit the driving range and then the pool, which the resort's maintenance staff managed to keep cool despite the scorching weather.
The beer was delivered and Ed took a satisfied swig. He folded his hands behind his head and watched Noah and Wyatt play with the other kids. Ed loved being a dad, especially in this second round of his parenting life. In this iteration he'd come to love all parts of it, good times and bad, but especially the good, like, right now. He couldn't wait for Maggie to get back and join her brothers in the pool. He loved watching them invent games, make temporary friends, and how they always watched out for each other. Most parents, Ed observed, saw pool supervision as a chore, but he loved it. He and Olivia both gleaned a ton of pleasure and satisfaction in seeing their kids have an unstructured good time.
"Dad!" Noah shouted, "Watch this!" He had Wyatt balanced on his shoulders and had cajoled another kid to throw a ball which Wyatt caught after making a half-twist in the air.
Ed jabbed a finger in the air and shouted, "AWESOME!"
A man two chaises away swigged his own beer and said, "You got some athletic kids there."
Ed nodded politely. Uninterested in small talk, he replied with a non-answer, "Yeah, they love the pool." Seconds later he chastised himself for being an asshole. The guy was close to his age. They probably had similar experiences. Why was he so averse to conversation?
"Your kids out there somewhere?" Ed asked of the cluster of children and tweens in the water.
"Yeah." The man pointed to the middle of the pool, "My girls are there. Yellow suits."
"Ah, yeah," Ed wondered if they were twins. He couldn't tell the duo apart. The girls were probably a bit younger than Noah and slightly older than Maggie and Wyatt. Ed felt a little twinge of brotherhood with the man. "Energy for days, huh?"
"Tell me about it," the man replied, "We've done mini golf, pedicures, and played frisbee all before noon. But," the guy threw his hands up, "You get your kids for a weekend a month you have to make it special, right?"
Ed frowned. "Yeah...been there."
The man sat up a little and leaned toward Ed. "It's hell, right?"
Olivia and Maggie sauntered into the pool area. The gate was directly across from where Ed was sitting and the creak of its hinges attracted attention to anyone who was leaving or entering. Ed broke into a wide grin and waved. Maggie immediately shed her cover-up and jumped into the water. Olivia, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a black sundress over her bathing suit, crouched to say hello to Noah and Wyatt then continued around the pool in Ed's direction.
"Oh, uh," the man stammered, embarrassed he'd misinterpreted Ed's situation.
Ed smirked and quickly explained, "My two older girls are married…"
"Ah."
"Sometimes ya get lucky the second time around."
The man eyed Olivia a bit too approvingly for Ed's liking and murmured, "I guess so…"
Oblivious to the conversation, Olivia approached, bent down, and kissed Ed on the lips. For a second he was lost in her hair and her hat. She showed him her nails, toes, and raved about the body scrub she and Maggie had.
"Body scrub?"
"Shoulders and back," Olivia said. "It was amazing. You should try it."
"We'll see."
Olivia threw her head back and laughed. She glanced at the empty chaise, reserved for her by a towel and the boys' clothes. "This for me?"
"Yep."
Olivia removed the sundress, revealing her sleek lavender one-piece. She kissed Ed again, adjusted the chaise's incline and in the process, moved it closer to Ed's. The poolside server came by and took her drink order. Ed clasped his hands behind his head and watched the kids play with a satisfied expression on his face. Once again, he was the envy of every other man in sight.
…..
Noah blew out a nervous breath and peeked out at the benefit space. It was not the largest venue G had ever worked with, but she understood why Noah was in awe. The tables were immaculately set with elegant floral centerpieces, and the teal tablecloths provided a dazzling pop of color. Instrumental music played from the speakers interrupted only by the occasional clang of drink glasses or the caterers working in the adjacent prep space. The sun was setting and the space was much brighter than it would be by the time the guests began filing in. The A/V team was testing the visuals, and Noah smiled when a photograph of his mother dressed in her NYPD formal attire flashed on the screen.
"Look good?" G asked.
Noah nodded.
"Relax, buddy," G rubbed his shoulders, "Everything's all set. This is the easy part-watching it all come together. But we do have some things to do, so, you ready?"
"Yep!"
"Thanks for helping me out."
"Welcome," Noah said, "I have lotsa 'sperience with workin' with Sare Bear but not you, G!"
She grinned and almost mussed his hair, but it was combed so perfectly she thought otherwise. "If you have any questions, just ask," she said, "But right now, let's make sure there's a program at each seat." She handed Noah a stack and showed him where to find more once he ran out. "Do you want to take your jacket off for now?" She asked, "We can hang it up."
"Yeah," Noah carefully wriggled out of the brand new black blazer, "It's kinda stiff."
"I know what you mean."
"I like your dress, G," he said.
G looked down at her plain navy blue, cap-sleeve wrap dress. It wasn't new, in fact, it was her default event dress-stretchy fabric, flattering, fancy enough to fit in with the well-heeled guests yet practical enough for a night of perpetual motion. "Thanks," she said to her young assistant. After hanging the blazer, she asked, "What color is your mom's dress?"
"It's like, kinda purply blue." Noah scrunched his nose, struggling to pinpoint the exact color.
"I bet it's gorgeous."
"Uh-huh! Daddy said, squisite, Liv!"
G grinned and swooned on the inside.
She didn't have much time to quietly gush over Ed's comment and Noah's rendition of it. The side door opened, and Justin shoved his way in. He was holding a huge, flower-filled vase, which would be presented to Olivia at the end of the night. With Sarah, Brooke, and Olivia all getting ready together at the Tucker apartment, Justin volunteered to take Noah to the venue early, and discovered G had a job for him, too.
"Thank you so much," G gushed, "I cannot believe the florist…"
"He was super apologetic," Justin reported, "He's got a bunch of people out sick. Hope it's nothing serious, uh," he checked to see if Noah was listening, "uh, with flu season starting again. But, this looks great." He grinned, but his face was partially hidden by the multicolored blooms.
The vase with the water in it had to weigh at least thirty pounds and G suddenly scrambled for a place for Justin to put it down. She had been focused and confident about the night, but in Justin's presence she became jumpy and nervous. It was strange to be partially alone with him, and, also, her little crush on him was still very much alive. It didn't help that he was possibly the nicest person in the world.
"Need anything else?" He asked, looking around.
"No, we're going to start doing some sound checks...I think I'm going to go out to the terrace and breathe a little after that."
Justin cocked his head and squinted at her. "Y'alright?"
"I'm fine," G replied, "I always go through worst case scenarios before an event. And I should be even more fine," she waved her hand toward the large space, "This is pretty simple and straightforward. But I, um, I-"
"-want Liv to love it?"
Justin's grin nearly brought G to her knees. Good looks aside, there was a compassion and an innate sensitivity to him that reminded G a lot of Olivia.
"Yes," G said, exhaling a breath she had been holding without realizing it.
"I don't see why she wouldn't," Justin said, "The lace looks awesome."
"G!" Noah came running, the sound of his new shoes tapping on the brushed concrete floor sounded urgent.
"What's up?" G asked.
"C'I have a scallop?"
Justin giggled.
"A scallop?" G asked.
"Da lady, Claudia, has da scallops back there and asked if I wanted to try but I said I had to ask!"
"Of course you can have one," G said. "Let me know if they're good."
"Kay!"
"Bring me one!" Justin called after him.
Noah gave him a thumbs up.
"Scallops," Justin murmured, "I don't think I had one until, well, a couple years ago. He's seven."
"Almost eight," G replied, "He made sure to mention that earlier."
"Almost eight...well," Justin shoved his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a slim-fitting dark suit and white shirt. His tie, which nearly matched the tablecloths, was hanging out of his jacket pocket. "...I'm gonna get a drink and take a look at the view. Want one?"
"I, uh, maybe like a half glass of something? I'm technically working." G was working, but she had taken this job off the books. For tonight, she was her own boss. Most of her colleagues, at least those she knew well, did the same thing for family or friends. It was frowned upon but not technically outside of regulations.
"Be right back." Justin darted to the bar. On the way, Noah intercepted him and handed off a scallop. He carried the cocktails out to the terrace and nodded approvingly at the view. "I'm gonna spend most of the night out here," he said, "Hope there aren't too many speeches or anything."
G laughed, "There are quite a few."
"Damn." A goofy expression crossed Justin's face. "I'm not giving one, am I?"
"No, no you're not." G chuckled and sipped the cocktail. She wasn't sure exactly what it contained, but that didn't matter. For the next few minutes she could enjoy a few minutes of peace and perhaps, if she was lucky, siphon off some of Justin's self-confidence.
"I hate public speaking," Justin said.
"Me too. Which is probably one of the reasons why I like this job so much."
"Well, you're good at it." Justin glanced back inside.
"Thanks, I appreciate that."
Justin grinned and raised his glass, "Anytime."
…..
Captain Ed Tucker prided himself on being a meticulous notetaker and record keeper. He did not rely on the IAB clerical staff to catalogue his notes and files, preferring to keep most of them in fireproof cabinets in his office. Others, from minor or long-closed cases were stored in the building's vault-an eerie, cavernous, dusty basement room where old complaints went to die. NYPD as a whole had not yet caught up with the times, and most case files were still stored and transferred from department to department by hand, via hard copy. Few case files were housed electronically and, though there were policies in place for record keeping, fidelity to those standards varied from precinct to precinct. This annoyed Tucker, for he often had to go on a wild goose chase and toggle between department servers and file rooms when background information was required during an investigation. Others' disorganization motivated him to be even more detailed, and he filed records both alphabetically and chronologically, making sure to declutter on a monthly basis and move unnecessary documents to the basement. When the first of April rolled around and he found himself with down time, he yanked open the cabinet and got to work.
As he caught sight of both familiar and less familiar names, he reacted with grimaces and grunts. Each tab he walked his fingers over represented either a headache or a heartache, or both. And then he came to one that knocked him backwards.
Benson, Olivia (W.L)
Ed had not even been able to write out William Lewis' name on the label.
He slid the file from its place and handled it as if it could combust at any minute. Inside were the notes from the interview he'd conducted the day after Lewis killed himself. Benson. Calhoun. Amelia. Lt. Murphy-All the players' names and all the details they'd divulged were scrawled in his angular script on legal pad paper. Then, he saw the date and the pit in his stomach grew. On this day, two years ago, Benson was sitting at IAB, a day after surviving the worst ordeal of her life.
Ed went back to his desk and sat down. He stared at the photo of him, Olivia, and Noah-the one he finally dared to put on his desk. Hell, they were headed to Paris in a couple of weeks, all three of them. Wasn't it okay for him to place them next to the picture of his daughters and mother at Sarah's college graduation?
He wondered if Olivia recognized the date. If, each year, she dreaded it or met it with mixed emotions like she regarded her mother's birthday and the day she fell to her death on the subway steps. Or had she buried it all? Blocked it off somewhere? She was certainly very skilled at operating as if everything were perfectly normal.
Ed went back to the original task and put the folders he no longer needed in an evidence box for one of the clerks to take downstairs. He started to put the Lewis documents in the shredder, but decided against it and shoved the folder in the very back of one of the drawers. Olivia's text message startled him more than it should have. Did she somehow know what he'd come across? Would he be able to hide the fact that he was troubled the next time they spoke?
She'd sent two words.
Early dinner?
Ed smiled. He liked early dinner. It meant they would eat with Noah and then spend the rest of the night on the couch watching old reruns or doing absolutely nothing.
He called her instead of responding via text. He wanted to hear her voice. She would decline the call if she truly couldn't talk at the moment, but something told him she would pick up.
And she did.
"Got a minute?" Ed asked after she answered.
"For you, of course."
"Wanted to hear your voice."
"Is everything okay? Something happen?"
"No, no, just, uh, miss ya."
"Oh…"
He could feel her smiling and pictured her cheeks getting pink.
"So, dinner?" He continued, "Want me to get somethin' on the way over?"
"I thought we'd get Noah together and go out?"
"Sure."
"I'll meet you at day care at five?"
"Yeah," he replied, "I'll be there."
"Good," Olivia paused for a moment and added, her voice lowering, "I really want to see you tonight."
Was she flirting? Or did she, too, realize the significance of the date?
It didn't matter. Ed's reply was the same either way.
"I want to see you, too," he said softly. "Day care at five."
"Yes," she said, "Day care at five."
….
The taxi driver accelerated down the block and headed downtown. He tapped the wheel, whistled a tune, and paid no attention to the well-dressed couple in the backseat. The cabbie was probably close in age to Ed and Olivia, but he looked years older and much, much rougher. Where his skin wasn't wrinkled, it was pockmarked and covered by a patchy gray beard. Unless he was worried about a passenger puking or vandalizing his car, he completed routes with detachment and disinterest.
In the backseat, Olivia peered curiously at her husband who had shimmied almost all the way over to the opposite door. "Why are you all the way over there?" She asked, her voice bright and full of flirtatious energy.
"I don't wanna be tempted," Ed replied. He eyed the cabbie and appreciated the figurative distance the guy managed to create between the front and back seats. When his eyes drifted back to Olivia, he smirked and poked the side of his mouth with his tongue.
Olivia knew from the second she tried on the dress that Ed would be drooling the entire night. It was a unique ombre fabric that began as periwinkle at the v-neck and gradually darkened into a deep violet toward the hemline. She wore her hair in a loose chignon. Instead of purchasing a new necklace, she chose to wear the necklace with her family's birthstones cluttered into a circular pendant. Ed had gifted it to her shortly after the twins were born. But the feature she knew would be most alluring was the v-neck because Sarah had convinced her to wear a lift bra, and the results were amazing. This wasn't exactly the occasion to flaunt sexuality, but Sarah, and even Brooke, insisted the look was appropriate. It's not risque, Sarah had explained, it's different from your usual.
"Come here," Olivia said, holding out her hand. He took it and slid over toward the middle. She closed the distance, kissed him, and wiped the lipstick trace she'd left. "I love you."
Ed made a show of letting his eyes drift to her chest, "I really, really love you."
Olivia threw her head back and laughed.
"Seriously, Liv, you're beautiful," he said softly.
"Thank you."
"Feeling good about tonight?"
"I am," she said, "But...I think it's always going to feel a little strange being on this side of things after so many years of being in the trenches, fighting all the time."
"That's the difference between bein' a grunt and a general."
"Exactly." Olivia briefly touched Ed's face before sliding even closer to him.
They held hands the rest of the ride. Olivia reflected on her life and how she did sometimes miss the grunt work-facing a perp in the interrogation room, the adrenaline rush of pounding on a door not knowing what or who was on the other side, operating on instinct, pursuing leads-even when the investigations were frustrating, when the suspects were elusive, at the very least she and the squad were trying, which was more than she could say for a lot of other city and state departments.
But the trade off-her family, her children, her husband, sleeping at night-was worth it. And she was finding ways to fight the fight even though it was without a gun and shield. Tonight would affirm and further the goals of the Benson Center and hopefully provide the financial resources to expand its services in the next year.
A general…
She appreciated the analogy. And also what Ed didn't say. By overseeing the center, writing, and dabbling in consulting, she could contribute without the inherent dangers of the job. It wasn't the same, but it was the best, and safest, of both worlds.
The driver rolled to a stop in front of the venue. Ed swiped his card, thanked the man, and stepped onto the curb. He helped Olivia out of the cab and offered his arm. She took it and looked up at the terrace, outlined in huge, dazzling twinkle lights. "Wait until you see the view from up there," she said, "It's amazing."
"I'm sure it is," he whispered in her ear, "But nothing's as amazing as you, Olivia Benson Tucker."
She shook with gentle laughter.
"Too much?" he joked.
"Yes," she replied, squeezing his arm, "But I love it. Don't ever stop being too much."
…..
#Tuckson
