(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Six: "Just Right"

Bette

She sat at Olivia's desk, sorting through the mail. It had been weeks, but bundles and bundles of condolence cards were still delivered daily. She shook her head, her eyes racing over the return address label before she placed the envelope on the stack in the corner. "So many cards," she murmured, quickly sorting today's delivery into piles the way a blackjack dealer shuffled cards. So many cards, so many repeated phrases. Our deepest condolences… In sympathy… Sending thoughts and prayers… I'm so sorry for your loss… "So many."

She looked up, hearing the slap of sandals on the tile floor. A moment later, Evy turned the corner and lingered in the doorway to her mother's office. "Hi," she said softly, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jean shorts.

"Hi, Blondie," she murmured, shuffling through the cards.

The teenager wandered in, sighing deeply, as her eyes moved over the mountains of cards. "Wow," she sighed, her hand dancing over the tallest pile. "Mom hasn't seen these, right?"

She pulled off her red reading glasses and leaned back, blinking her tired eyes. "Of course not. I don't think she's stepped foot in here since before she left for Italy."

Evy nodded as she leaned against the desk, her arms folded against her chest. "She goes into Dad's office after physical therapy," she said softly. "She sits in there for hours. She's…she's trying to remember the day of the accident."

She nodded back and reached out, patting the girl's hip. "I know. I don't think she'll be able to rest until she does," she said softly as Evy met her eyes.

"Bette," she sighed, blinking back tears, "I-I don't know how to help her. The other day, when Nicola and I were looking through old photos of Dad in the living room, Mom was-" She frowned as the young girl sniffled, her teary eyes wide. "She's-she's so quiet and…"

"And?" she prodded gently.

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as she whispered, "She's so…sad."

With a sigh, she stood up and extended her arms. She hugged Evy against her, running her hand over her golden blonde hair. "She is, Blondie," she murmured into her hair as she felt the young girl tremble against her. "She will be for awhile. Maybe forever. What she and your father had-"

"Bette," she exclaimed, pulling back slightly as she looked up, "I don't want her to be sad forever!"

She cupped the young girl's face and sighed. "Honey, you know how she and your father were. They were inseparable. They were just…just right. They had everything I wanted to have with each of my nine husbands." The teenager sighed deeply, their eyes locked as she continued, "Do you know about my second husband, Jeffrey?" When the teenager shook her head, she explained, "We had been married more than a year when he died. Your mother and Elaine were practically glued to my side in the days and weeks after. It was right around the same time your mother started dating your father…" She trailed off, remembering how tied into each other the two events were: her second husband's death and the start of Olivia's relationship with Gregory. Why they happened. How they happened. None of that mattered anymore though. The girl nodded, but she could see the confusion swirling in her brown eyes. In the brown eyes she got from her father. "Jeffrey and I didn't what your parents had, but it still hurt. But, time heals everything, Blondie. Your mother just needs time."

She nodded slowly, her arms falling away as brushed at her eyes again. "Am I helping her? Because I don't feel like I am. And, I hate feeling useless."

Just like her father. "Oh, Blondie, of course you are! You could sit in the corner with a dunce hat on and it would help your mother." Evy smirked and she cupped her chin, kissing her nose. At least she smiled. "Might make Olivia laugh if you did. You might want to try that."

She rolled her eyes as they leaned back in unison against Olivia's desk. "Bette, I have to tell you something. I-I don't want Mom to remember the day of the accident." She glanced over, biting the corner of her lip. "It won't help her. It won't change anything."

"I know, Evy. I know." She patted her cheek and turned back to the piles covering the desk. She heard the young girl's sniffle segue into a sigh. She glanced up in time to see the young girl rub her face as she sighed deeper, her brown eyes swollen and bleary. "I'll tell you what," she began as she reached for the second tallest stack of cards, "you can run an errand for me. Well, for Olivia, really."

"Errand to where?"

"Darcy's. I ordered a banoffee pie." She smiled when Evy gagged dramatically. "I know, I know. It's horrible! But, your mother is British and she loves their disgusting cuisine."

"Yeah, but I haven't seen her eat dessert in years though," Evy sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"Maybe. But, it'll surprise her. You'll go pick up the order?" When the young girl nodded, she smiled gratefully and dropped the stack into the trash can.

"Why are you throwing those out?"

She shook her head and smiled tightly. "Don't worry about those. Now, the order is in my name and-"

"Why did you throw those out?" Evy asked again, her question sharp. She couldn't help the shiver that crawled down her spine. Her tone reminded her so much of Gregory's when he expected an answer. "Who are they from?"

She sighed. "No one special, Blondie. Just…slugs."

"Slugs?"

She sighed, having a good idea of the way the young girl would react. "The men whose condolence cards included…personal messages to your mother." Evy stared at her dumbly and she cleared her throat, clarifying, "The ones who want to console your mother. She's not ready to deal with them."

Evy's eyes narrowed. "Are you KIDDING me?" She shook her head and patted the girl's arm as she glared down at the bin. "Dad hasn't even been-"

"Hey, hey." She cupped her face, marveling at how accurately she predicted Evy's anger. "Out of sight, out of mind."

She shook her head. "I don't know if I want to throw up or punch someone." She exhaled deeply and squeezed her eyes shut briefly. "No, I do know. I want to punch someone."

She smiled sadly. "Spoken like the daughter of Gregory Richards." Evy's eyes opened slowly and she whispered, "Just don't let me be on the other side of your fist. Ok?"

"Ok." She shook her head and leaned in, hugging her tightly. "Thank you for being here for Mom. For me."

Her throat tightened, her hand running over the girl's blonde hair. She lost her one chance at motherhood. But, with Olivia's children, in these moments, she was reminded all too painfully of what she lost when she lost Emily. "You're stuck with me, Blondie. You and your mother."


Morris

"It's nice to see you around again, big guy," he heard Bette say as he followed her through the house to the patio. She glanced over her shoulder, a sad smile dancing on her lips. "Despite the circumstances."

He nodded as the stepped out onto the patio. "Yes," he simply, narrowing his eyes in the face of the strong sunshine. He'd stopped by almost daily, sitting with Olivia in the afternoon. Sometimes they just sat in silence. But, most afternoons, she'd listen quietly while he told her stories about his time at Cornell with Greg. Now, he could see Olivia sitting on a cushioned lounge chair, amply shaded from the sun by a large umbrella and wide palm frond. He turned to Bette and returned her sad smile. "You still look good, Bette."

She clicked her tongue and chuckled beneath her breath. "Always the flatterer," she said softly. He watched her turn back to Olivia, the lines around her eyes crinkled with worry. "I left her with a sandwich and a bowl of fruit. See if you can get her to eat, hmm?"

He nodded slowly as he left her and walked over to Olivia. Slowly, he rubbed his mouth and exhaled deeply as he watched her in profile. The grim expression seemed permanently imprinted on her face as she looked out at the ocean. If she heard him approach, if she heard him sit in the chair next to her, she didn't acknowledge it. She didn't even look up. But, as he settled into the chair on her left, he heard the change in her breathing. With a glance down at the untouched plate on the table between them, he asked, "Do you mind? I'm starving."

She shook her head and glanced up at him. Her blue eyes were bright as he reached for half of the turkey sandwich and took a bite. "Not bad," he said after he swallowed. "I'll leave you the berries though. They're bird food." He nudged the bowl closer and watched as she sighed, her eyes rolling. With an awkward carefulness, because using her left hand was not natural, she picked up the spoon and brought a mouthful to her lips.

"Happy?" she murmured.

With a grin, he leaned forward and turned to her. "Someone has to eat them before the birds get them. Might as well be you." He took another bite of the sandwich, saying nothing else as he watched her eat another spoonful of fruit. She must have felt him still watching her because she looked up slowly, turning completely to him. The bruises on the right side of her face had dulled from deep shades of purple and blue to sickly green and yellow.

She sighed. "Horrific to look at, isn't it?" She leaned into her left side with another deeper sigh. "I still catch Harrison and Nicola looking. But, they were raised properly. They always apologize for staring."

He nodded, placed the sandwich back on the plate, and moved his chair closer to hers. "They're doing well?"

Her lips pressed into a line as she considered his question. "They miss Gregory," she said softly and he heard her voice catch as she continued, "I-I'm not much help to them." She sighed and rubbed a spot in the middle of her forehead. "I'm not much help to anyone."

"Olivia-"

Her eyes slowly turned up, latching onto his gaze. Involuntarily, he felt a shudder quake deep in his stomach as her expression collapsed. "And, I want to be," she murmured, "but, I can't."

"Why not?" he asked quietly after a long moment.

Slowly, she sat up, inhaling sharply at the effort. "Because…because I don't understand what happened."

He was still as he watched his late friend's wife. Her blue eyes had suddenly dulled and he could see the haunted look brimming at the edges of her expression. "What do you mean?"

She turned back out to the ocean and she was suddenly in profile again. He could see the way her throat worked as she began, "It's been more than a month." She sighed deeply and he watched her eyes close. "I don't understand what happened. I don't remember what happened. I-I don't remember Gregory." Her eyes opened suddenly and she looked over to him. "Nothing makes sense," she gasped.

"The boys went to Florence when you were in the hospital. They spoke to the police. Surely they explained to you-"

She sniffed and shook her head. "The Carabinieri's English was somehow worse than Sean's broken Italian." With care, her left hand reached out and rested on his right forearm. "Morris, I need your help. With getting the police reports from the Carabinieri. With the articles. I can't ask the children."

He cleared his throat and sat up, his mind racing. "Articles?"

Her hand fell away from his arm, the spot tingling as she reached for the iPhone next to the plate. With a tap and then a swipe of her finger, the device came to life and the screen glowed. She held out the phone to him and he could see it was opened to an online newspaper article about their car accident. "Olivia," he sighed as his eyes moved over the words, not understanding the Italian.

"Please, Morris," she said softly.

"Olivia-"

"Something's going to happen, Morris. I can feel it."

"I told you, not on my watch."

He sighed deeply, not able to say no to her. He never could. Not 37 years ago. And, not today. With a grudging sigh, he said, "I'll make some calls."


Evy

With a sigh, she climbed out of Dad's car and pressed the lock, hearing it chirp. The sun was shining and she adjusted her ponytail out the back of her faded Yankees hat. All the parking spaces in Darcy's small lot were taken, so she had to settle for street parking two blocks away. With another deep exhale, she shoved the keys into her pocket and began the short walk down the street to the bakery.

She shivered as she passed the sidewalk tables outside The Standard. She felt the eyes of every single patron on her. It made her skin crawl. She pulled her brim down and lowered her face, suddenly finding the sidewalk fascinating. She had kept a low profile and stayed at home since getting back from New York City. Not that it mattered. None of her friends were here. Like her, they all went away for college.

"Not Cornell?"

She froze, the muscles of her stomach tensing as she remembered the way Dad reacted to the list of schools she planned on applying to for college.

"Yeah, right, Dad. I mean, it's a great school-"

"Ivy League."

"BUT," she sighed, ignoring his subtle dig, "so is Columbia. And, what I remember from your Cornell stories is how much you hated the winters there."

"They started in late September."

"Exactly." She giggled and leaned across the Jag's armrest. "You don't want your poor daughter, who has spent her ENTIRE life in southern California, dying of shock and exposure in Ithaca by Halloween. Do you?"

He chuckled beneath his breath and glanced over, shaking his head. "So, Columbia?" he asked.

She grinned and nodded as he cupped her chin. "One hand in the air for the big city," she sang softly as she reached up, her hand wrapping around his wrist. He smiled before he turned back to the line of traffic they sat in. But, he still held onto her hand and she smiled back when she felt him squeeze gently.

"Evy?"

She gasped and looked up quickly as she brushed the tears from her cheeks. She blinked, seeing Benjy Evans watching her carefully. She sniffled and shook her head, cursing internally. This was the second time he's seen her cry. God, it was so weak. "Oh…hey," she croaked, forcing herself to look back up at him.

He smiled kindly before his dark eyes flickered up to something behind her. "It's Gos, right?" he asked and she frowned, confused. "My stepsister is one of his biggest fan girls. She cries too at the sight of him."

She glanced behind her, seeing the framed poster of the dancing couple hanging on the façade of the movie theater. "Oh. Yeah."

When she turned back to him, his smile deepened as he continued to watch her. "It's nice to see you. How's it going?"

"Oh. You know…terrible," she trailed off as the toe of her sneakers stabbed the sidewalk.

He shook his head. "Sorry. That was a knucklehead thing to ask." A tiny smile came to her lips as she listened to him berate herself. He wasn't at all like Ben, who was one of her father's oldest business associates. Ben was calm and smooth, never saying the wrong thing. But Benjy was anything but as he ran a nervous hand through his thick dark hair. "What I meant was, I heard you were back in town." She looked up and he must have seen the confused look on her face because he quickly continued, "Casey told Meg. She told my dad and I overheard."

She nodded, her hand wrapped around Dad's key ring. "Yeah. I just- just couldn't be at school right now."

He stepped closer to her and nodded. "I get it," he said softly and she looked up, meeting his dark eyes. "I'm sure lectures, study groups, and term papers are the last thing on your mind right now." A brief silence fell between them before she heard him say, "I bet your mom is glad you're home."

She thought back to her conversation with Bette in Mom's study. "I think so. I'm not sure how much I'm helping her, you know?"

As he shook his head, she felt his hand graze hers. Involuntarily, she gripped the keys tighter as she looked back up at him. A sad expression wrinkled across his face, as if a sudden memory haunted every ounce of him. "Being there, spending time…it helps more than you realize," he replied softly.

She swallowed as their hands brushed together again, his knuckles against her fingers. "You think?"

"I do," he whispered.

She felt the lump in her throat swell and she inhaled sharply as she said, "I should get out of your way." She forced herself to step back, noticing his suit. "You're on your way to the office, right?"

He chuckled beneath his breath as he glanced down. "I see you're familiar with the Liberty Corporation's dress code."

With a helpless shrug, she giggled. "It's kind of hard to miss."

"I guess." He reached up, loosening the tie knotted at his neck. "Kind of feels like I'm playing dress-up in one of Dad's suits though." She took a long moment to watch him, from his leather dress shoes up to his sheepish grin. "I do need to get back to the office though. Where are you headed?"

She glanced down the street, gesturing. "Darcy's. Bette ordered something for Mom."

"Something chocolate, I hope."

She shook her head, swallowing back the involuntary gag as she thought of the banoffee pie. "Not exactly," she said, pushing Dad's keys down into her pocket.

With interest, she watched a grin light up his brown eyes. "Maybe you'll tell me about the 'not exactly' dessert the next time I see you?"

She bit back a smile, feeling suddenly bashful as he watched her closely. "Maybe," she said softly and she felt her heart flutter when he beamed.


A/N: The lyrics Evy sang are from "Empire State of Mind" (written by Angela Hunte, Alicia Keys, Alexander Shuckburgh, Burt Keyes, Janet "Jnay" Sewell-Ulepic, Shawn Carter, and Sylvia Robinson).