NOTE: This chapter is RATED ADULT for sexual content. In addition,
the title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Everything You've
Done Wrong" (performed and composed by Sloan) and can be found on the
soundtrack to the movie, "The Virgin Suicides"; lyric used here
strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.
(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)
Part 6: "Do Your Time, I Think I'm Home For Good"
September 1, 2008 at 2:15 a.m.
Olivia wanders through the living room, her fingers drifting across the top of the sofa as she walks past it. She sits down on the sofa and looks around the room anxiously before jumping back up.
O'Rourke folds her cell phone shut and looks up at Olivia. "Mrs. Richards? That was Michaelson. He said that they are less than five minutes away."
She sighs and closes her eyes. "Thank you," she whispers as she opens her eyes a moment later. "Whose idea was it again that Gregory be released at midnight?"
"His," O'Rourke notes as she stifles a yawn.
Olivia smiles as she takes a sip out of her coffee mug. "He probably didn't want to stay in prison a minute longer than necessary."
O'Rourke tucks her small cell phone into the pocket of her jeans and stands up. "I think he just wanted to hurry home…to you." She swings her large bag up onto her shoulder and walks over to Olivia. "I'm going to wait outside for Michaelson."
"Are you sure?" Olivia asks as she sets her mug on the center table. O'Rourke nods and Olivia walks over to the young lawyer. "Thank you," she whispers as she hugs her, "for everything that you've done for Gregory. I will never forget it. If there is ever anything-"
The defense lawyer pulls back and pushes a curl out of her face. "Just be happy." She squeezes Olivia's arm gently. "You both deserve it." She smiles once more at Olivia before turning and leaving the house.
Olivia sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. Her eyes roam around the living room and linger on the front door for a moment. She anxiously drums her fingers on the top of her arms. She moves her hand and covers her heart. It pounds furiously and she takes a deep breath to steady her frazzled nerves. She walks over to the patio door and opens it, allowing the strong ocean breeze in. The breeze stirs her hair, causing it to swirl out around her head. She closes her eyes and leans against the doorjamb. So intent is she on getting her heart to calm down, she doesn't hear the front door open…
The Towncar grinds to a stop in front of One Ocean Avenue. Before Bryan can free himself from the front seat and come around to the backseat, Gregory swings the door open and steps out.
He looks up at the large house and smiles. In addition to the façade spotlights, every window is illuminated from within, welcoming him home. Home, he thinks as a hand clamps down on his shoulder.
"Well, Gregory…" Michaelson trails off as O'Rourke comes to stand behind him. "I'll call you tomorrow and we'll make arrangements for you to meet with the parole officer." He wraps his arm around her waist and extends the other to Gregory. "Pleasure doing business with you."
Gregory shakes his hand firmly and looks over at O'Rourke. "Is she-"
"Waiting inside for you," O'Rourke finishes. "And anxiously pacing the length of the living room."
"Thank you," he whispers before turning away and striding up the driveway to the front door. As he walks closer to the gateway to his future, his heart starts to pound faster and he feels his mouth go dry. He puts his hand on the door handle and turns it.
Pushing the heavy door open, he immediately sees her standing still by the patio door. A breeze causes her hair to dance on the air. She's leaning against the door, her back to the front door and she doesn't turn around.
He closes the door softly and leans against it. His breath becomes shallow as he watches her. It finally catches in his throat when she turns her head and locks her eyes with his.
She pushes away from the patio door and turns around fully. Her face is soft and her eyes sparkle as bright as the smile that lights up her face. The mauve button-down sweater she's wearing adds color to her complexion and makes her look so alive. So vibrant. So much better than any dream he has had about this moment during the years he was incarcerated. So here, right in front of him.
Gregory smiles as Olivia walks over to him. Her gray pants drag across the floor and he notices that she is barefoot, allowing him to see that her toenails are daintily painted with a French pedicure.
"How was the drive?" she asks softly, as if Gregory was returning from a weekend business trip and not an eight year, all expense paid vacation in a federal prison. "Was there much traffic?"
"Not at this time of night," he responds, following her lead. He moves away from the door and meets her by the base of the stairs. He tentatively reaches out and touches her cheek, noting her small gasp. "I'm glad to be home."
"Home is glad you're back," she whispers breathily as she steps into his touch.
Gregory trails his hand down her neck and over her right breast before allowing it to rest on her hip. His other arm wraps around her back and he draws her even closer. He feels her chest shudder as her breath comes out in rasps. He bends in and places a soft kiss on her lips, sighing internally at their sweet taste.
Olivia feels his lips on hers and she returns the kiss hungrily, advancing on him and pushing him up against the wall. He pushes away from the wall and flips around, putting Olivia flush against the wall. He continues to attack her lips again and again with his kisses as he continues to tell himself, She's real…She's here.
His anxious hands pull her sweater open, the small buttons popping off and scattering across the stone floor. His hands roam across her bare stomach for a moment before trailing up to her chest. She moans as he cups her breasts and her head falls forward. With trembling fingers, she tugs his shirt out from his pants and urges it up. He allows his hands to fall away from her breasts and she pulls the shirt off him before pressing back against her.
Her kiss is harder as she feels his coarse chest rubbing against hers. She stifles a gasp as he pulls her away from the wall and pushes her into the stairwell. Olivia reaches down and begins to loosen his belt before they stumble and collapse on the stairs.
He looks down at her, his body responding to her heavy breathing and flushed complexion. He struggles to yank the side zipper on her pants down when she moans, "No."
"What?" he asks distractedly as the zipper finally opens, allowing him to start pulling off her pants.
"Not…he-, here," she breathes as she pulls his face down to hers. She whispers in his ear, "It can't be here." She tilts her head back, towards the second floor. She rolls out from under him and crawls up the remaining stairs.
He sighs before following her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He follows her to the doorway of the bedroom and allows her to pull him in the room. Their arms go around each other as their mouths continue to be drawn together. He kicks off his shoes and steps out of his pants, leaving them on the floor with Olivia's discarded pair.
Pushing her onto the bed, he covers her body with his. He looks down at her again and knows that she is ready when her legs wrap around him. They both are. They've waited too long and have wanted it for even longer.
He thrusts into her and freezes when she sobs. "What's wrong?" he asks in a panic.
She tightens her legs and pulls him closer. "N-, Nothing…" she trails off. He bends down and kisses the trail of tears off her face. "It's just…"
"I know," he whispers. Without removing his eyes from her, he continues to move against her. She rises and meets him, pulling his face down and claiming the lips that she desperately seeks. He pulls back from her kiss and whispers in her ear, "I love you."
Olivia holds back a sob as she manages to say, "I love you too," before she is caught up in the passion…
…Several hours later, as the first rays of faint sunlight fill the room, Olivia throws her head back and rocks to a stop as Gregory's hands fall away from her hips. Breathing heavily, she slides off Gregory and lies next to him, her heading resting on his shoulder. Her hair hangs heavily and is plastered to her back and neck with sweat.
He wraps his arms around her and takes a deep breath before asking with exhaustion clinging to his voice, "Why…was it so important that we make it…to the bed?"
"Because," she whispers sleepily, "I've been alone in it for too long." She reaches down and pulls the silk sheet over them. "We've both…been alone." Gregory squeezes her tighter to his body as she continues, "It won't…be cold anymore." After a few moments, her breathing becomes steady and deep.
Gregory rubs her foot gently with his and allows his heavy eyes to close. "How long," he mumbles as his mind grows dark with sleep, "have you been here with only ghosts for company?…Not anymore, Liv. They're gone."
The distant sound of waves crashing on the beach pulls Gregory out of a sound sleep. He opens his eyes slowly and stares up at the vaulted ceiling of the bedroom. He closes his eyes again as he basks in the silence of the late morning. Pure silence was something he had missed in prison. Someone, somewhere was always making noise.
He kicks his leg out from under champagne colored silk sheet and exhales deeply. As he does, he feels a heavy pressure on his chest. When he opens his eyes and looks down, he sees Olivia's head resting on his chest, her hair fanning out across it. He reaches down and lightly runs his fingers through her thick hair. He rubs a lock between his thumb and forefinger before bringing it to his nose and inhales the familiar smell of her shampoo. He untangles his hand from her hair and drapes his arm across her shoulder.
He closes his eyes again and urges his still tight muscles to relax as he strokes Olivia's shoulder with his thumb. His body is still in prison mode….Tense and distant from his surroundings. Not anymore though, he reminds himself. And never again.
From downstairs, Gregory hears the distant clang of pots and after a few moments, the steady aroma of coffee reaches his nostrils. His stomach grumbles softly and he realizes the last meal he ate was back at the prison last night. He frowns as he recalls the unfortunate mass of color on his plate that they called food. He sits up slowly and slides out of the bed, substituting a pillow for his chest so that Olivia isn't disturbed.
Gregory walks across the bedroom to the walk-in closet, hoping Olivia left something for him to wear until he had the chance to contact a tailor. He blinks in surprise after he opens the door and finds the wardrobe fully stocked. His eyes move over the rows of new suits, stacks of dress and casual shirts, other necessities, and even a few pairs of blue jeans. He looks back at the bed and smiles at Olivia's sleeping form. "You trying to tell me something with the jeans?" he asks softly.
Pushing the suits aside, he smirks triumphantly as he finds several robes. He shrugs into one and steps into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.
Olivia stirs as the shower comes alive. She smiles involuntarily before closing her eyes again. He's home, is the last thought that rolls through her consciousness before succumbing to sleep again.
Gregory steps off the last stair and smoothes the collar on the navy blue polo shirt. The smells wafting out from the kitchen taunt and beckon him. He walks through the dining room and stands in the doorway of the kitchen.
The sunlight beams in through the patio doors and from three skylights in the ceiling. You redecorated, Liv, he notes. Gone is the once cool kitchen of stone and marble and in its place is an inviting kitchen with warm wooden counters and cupboards and a vase of gladioli on the center of the table.
He clears his throat as Rose turns away from the stove. "Hello Rose."
She jumps and the spatula she was using to flip the pancakes clatters to the floor. "Oh, Mr. Richards!" she gushes. "Welcome home!" She surprises Gregory by throwing her arms around him and patting his back. "It's good to have you back." She pulls away and immediately pours the steaming coffee into a mug before passing it to him. "Still black?"
"Yes, thank you" he says with a small laugh. "Oh, Rose…You'll have no idea how long I've dreamed of your cooking. You should have seen the slop they forced us to eat."
"I can imagine," Rose says with a grimace as she bends down and retrieves the lost spatula. She removes a clean one from the drawer and turns back to the stove, scooping the pancakes onto a warm plate. "To make up for it, Mrs. Richards asked me to pick up everything I would need for your favorite meals. 'Anything he could possibly want,' she said." She sets the platter of pancakes on the table as she says, "I can make Belgian Waffles, Eggs Hollandaise, a Florentine Omelet…anything. French Toast?"
Gregory chuckles as he sips his coffee. "It all sounds wonderful. I'm tempted to have a little of everything…including those pancakes. May I?"
"Of course. If you excuse me, I'm going to get Trey from his room and he'll be down to join you."
"Trey is…here?"
Rose nods. "Mrs. Deschanel dropped him off thirty minutes ago."
He stares at her dumbly until he realizes whom she is referring. "You mean Bette?"
"Yes," she replies over her shoulder as she walks up the back stairs.
Trey…, he thinks. He picks up his mug and turns to stare out the patio door. He swallows a large gulp of coffee before putting it down on the table. He sighs nervously and puts his hands in his pocket as he rocks back on the heels of his feet.
From upstairs, he hears a thud and the sound of feet running down the hallway. A moment later, the sound of feet thundering down the back staircase signals the impending arrival of Trey. A sudden silence hangs over the kitchen and Gregory finds himself unable to turn around.
"Hi," a small voice says shyly.
Gregory turns around slowly and finds himself face-to-face not with the toddler he remembered, but a ten-year-old boy wearing jeans, flip-flops, and yellow t-shirt. The boy that should've been his. The boy he wanted to be a father to. The boy he loved as his own.
"You're Trey."
The young boy grins, showing off the dimples that painfully remind Gregory of his paternity. "How'd you know?"
Gregory takes a step closer and says quietly, "You look just like your mother." And he does….He has Olivia's expressive blue eyes that dance in amusement when he smiles and the dark blonde hair that she passed on to her children from her mother.
"Everyone tells me that," he sighs dramatically. "Aunt Bette says that the world couldn't handle another one of Mommy though." He glances at the plate of pancakes and then up at Gregory. "Want some pancakes?" he asks as he sits down at the table.
Gregory is silent, too stunned by the ease and familiarity of the conversation that Trey has engaged him in. He sits down in one of the chairs next to Trey and simply stares at him. He is chewing on his bottom lip, deep in concentration as he spreads warm butter across the pancakes and drizzles maple syrup on top. He cuts off a large piece and shoves it in his mouth, a small amount of syrup dribbling down his chin. The child sighs in mock frustration as he picks up his napkin and wipes the syrup away.
"Do you know who I am?" Gregory asks quietly while Trey continues to eat.
Trey swallows his mouthful of pancakes. "You're Caitlin and Sean's dad," he says matter-of-factly as he reaches for his glass. "And the man that Mommy loves."
The easy way Trey's last declaration rolls off his tongue sends Gregory reeling. "Did she tell you that?"
"Nope. Sean did." Trey swallows some of his chocolate milk and sets the glass down. "Mommy told me a few days ago that you were coming home to live with us. She asked me if that would be ok; I told her it was ok as long as I didn't have to move out of my room." Gregory smiles in amusement as Trey continues, "Then Sean took me out on the boat. He said that you'd live in Mommy's room because she loves you." He takes another bite of his pancakes and asks thoughtfully while chewing, "Do you love her back?"
"I do…very much."
Trey grins playfully and from this vantage point, Gregory can see the space where a tooth recently fell out. "Mommy has been really happy all week," he remarks casually. "She had Rose hire lots of people to come and clean the whole house so that 'everything will be perfect when Gregory comes home'," he says, imitating Olivia's breathy British accent and causing Gregory to laugh aloud. "I had to clean my room though," he complains as he stuffs a fork full of pancakes into his mouth. "Mommy says I lived with you before you went away, but I don't remember that."
Gregory nods slowly, confirming what Olivia told him, as he takes a sip of his coffee. "You did, but you were a baby at the time." He looks down at the steam snaking up from the mug and asks, "Did either your mother or Sean tell you where I've been all this time?"
Trey puts down his silverware and nods. "Mommy said that there was a bad lady who tried to steal me," he says softly with downcast eyes, "and that you stopped her. She said that you got into a fight with the lady and she died." He looks back up at Gregory and asks, "Was-, was it scary being in jail?"
The concern and innocence emanating from Trey's eyes speak to Gregory in ways that nothing else has in the past few years. Except during Olivia's visits when she looked at me with those same eyes, he notes.
"No, it wasn't scary," he grants, "but it was lonely. I missed your mother, Caitlin, Sean, and you."
Trey pushes himself onto his knees and he leans across the table. "You missed me too?" he asks, resting his chin in his hands.
Gregory folds his arms on the table and leans in close to Trey. "Very much," he whispers.
"I think Mommy missed you too," Trey whispers back.
The quiet, almost reverie-like moment is broken by the sound of a deafening roar and the squeal of brakes in the driveway.
"Who is that?" Gregory asks as Trey's face lights up. Please, please….Don't let it be the jewel thief…Please…
"The tank!"
"The tank?"
"Uh-huh. It's what we call Sean's car 'cause it's so big and loud and green," Trey explains. "I think it's a cool car but Mommy hates it and wants him to get rid of it."
"But Sean loves his Hummer too much to get rid of it," Sean says as he walks into the kitchen. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on the counter with his keys. "Morning everyone. I just wanted to stop by before heading to work."
Gregory stands up and turns around, facing his son. "Sean…" He takes a few steps closer to Sean and can't believe how much older Sean has gotten in the eight years since he's seen him. He looks so much like me it's eerie, Gregory thinks. "Where is work?" he asks as he takes in Sean's casual sports jacket and black trousers.
"The radio station. Mom turned it over to me after I graduated college."
"Sometimes I get to go and watch the radio broadcast," Trey pipes up. He runs over to Sean and throws his arms around his waist. "Sean's the best big brother."
"Yes, he is," Gregory agrees quietly as he meets Sean's eyes. So much animosity and too many years of us not getting along because we couldn't see eye-to-eye, he reflects with heavy regret. "I'm glad you're here Sean. Th-, Thank you for what you wrote to the parole board."
"You're welcome," he answers as watches Trey return to his chair and resume eating. "I meant what I wrote. Did they let you read it?"
"My lawyer showed me a copy." Gregory clasps Sean's shoulder. "Thank you, Son. Not just for the letter," he continues before Sean can interrupt, "but for all the support you've given your mother. Delaying college so that you could stay here and help with Trey…You didn't have to do that. But that's the kind of man you are, sacrificing yourself to help those you love. I'm sor-, sorry it took me so long to see that. You're a good man."
Sean swallows hard and puts his hand on Gregory's shoulder. "Thanks Dad," he whispers.
"You are a free man again, Mr. Richards. You have been given a second chance at life. Please, use it wisely," the chairwoman of the parole board had told him.
Gregory tentatively pulls Sean into an embrace, hugging him awkwardly until Sean's arms wrap around Gregory and he responds to the hug. They stand there for a few moments before Gregory pulls back.
"I'm proud of you, Sean. Very proud."
Sean clears his throat and reaches down for his keys. "I need to go into the office. But tell Mom I'll be back later for dinner. I know she's got something special planned." He puts on his sunglasses. "Bye Dad. See you tonight, little man."
Trey waves and calls out while chewing, "Bye Sean." As Gregory returns to his seat, Trey asks, "Aren't you hungry?"
"Good morning."
Both men turn around and see Olivia standing at the base of the back staircase wrapped in a long lilac colored robe. Her lips are turned up into a small smile and her hair is piled on top of her head.
"I see you two are getting reacquainted," she notes quietly as she walks over and places a kiss on Trey's head. "When did you get back sweetie?"
The young boy pats Olivia's hand as he looks back at her and says, "A long time ago…Aunt Bette dropped me off." He puts his fork down and sighs deeply as he stares longingly out the patio window. "I'm stuffed. Can I go swimming?"
Olivia glances at the clock and responds, "Go get changed. Put away the things that you took to Aunt Bette's and then you can go in."
"Hooray!" he cries as he scrambles out of the chair and to the stairs. "Gregory," he turns around and asks, "do you want to come swimming with me?"
He smiles and offers, "Maybe later?"
"Ok," Trey grins before running up the stairs.
Olivia smiles affectionately as she hears Trey's footsteps stampeding down the hallway above them. She smiles down at Gregory. "Good morning to you."
He stands up and takes her in his arms. "Morning," he says as he kisses her cheek and kisses his way over to her lips. She wraps her arms around his waist and nuzzles against his neck. He rubs the back of her neck and sighs contentedly. "He's wonderful. A very affectionate and sensitive child."
She pulls back and agrees, "He is." Gregory sits back down in his chair and pulls her down to his lap. "He was very excited to meet you," she adds.
"Was he?"
Olivia nods. "Mm-hmm," she sighs as she rests her head against his.
"I'm surprised that he knew about me…given how his fath-, Cole feels about me," Gregory mutters.
Placing her hand on his chest, she whispers, "Of course he knows about you. Look around darling…Pictures of you are scattered throughout the house. You're everywhere here." She sighs. "Speaking of Cole…He no longer lives in Sunset Beach."
Gregory looks up in surprise. "He doesn't?"
She shakes her head. "He got remarried three years ago. He moved north to Sonoma with his new wife…and their son." She narrows her eyes and glances away. "He doesn't see Trey much. Just a few weeks during the summer and sporadic weekend visits."
He turns her head back around to face him. "How is Trey adjusting to that?"
Olivia smiles sadly. "He's fine. Sean has-…He's been a wonderful influence on Trey. They're very close." She rests her head back against Gregory and closes her eyes. "I'm so happy you're home," she says softly.
Gregory pulls her face down to his and stares deeply into her eyes. "Me too." He kisses her mouth again, sucking on her bottom lip for a moment before breaking away. "Do you know what he called me?"
"Trey?" she asks before Gregory nods. "No…What?"
" 'The man that Mommy loves'."
She blushes deeply and laughs softly as she turns her face into Gregory's neck. "He's perceptive too…Did I mention that?"
Gregory chuckles and rubs her back comfortingly. "He asked me if I loved you." She raises her head and meets his dark brown eyes with her blue ones. "He was pleased that I did and he also mentioned how happy you've been this past week."
She smiles sheepishly and rests her forehead against his. "Do you really need to even ask why?"
"No," he whispers, "because I feel the same way."
The moment is interrupted by the sound of feet storming down the stairway.
"Goin' swimmin'!" Trey shouts as he runs through the kitchen and out the patio door. A moment later, Gregory and Olivia hear him shout, "Geronimo!" and a loud splash.
Olivia looks at Gregory and grins. "He has an endless supply of energy. I usually need two cups of coffee in the mornings to keep up with him." She stands up and extends her hand down to him. "Let's go sit outside."
Gregory takes her hand and allows her to lead him outdoors. For the first time in years, he is able to sit outdoors and enjoy the sun without the confines of armed guards or barbwire. He stretches out on a cushioned lounge that affords him a full view of Trey splashing around in the shallow end and he smiles when Olivia cuddles up next to him on the same chair.
He has what he wanted more than life…The woman he loves in his arms and the child he adores within his eyesight.
And for right now, that's enough.
End
