READ ME: As you know if you've read the last three chapters, I've been purposely vague about The Boyfriend's identity. Of course, this makes it hard because there's obviously things I can't write about without giving it away (for example, if The Boyfriend were to say something about never having kids before/having five kids with his ex-wife). But I've thought a lot about both potential storylines, because each of them would be so different. Which brings us to this chapter. This is a "what if", as in "what if Brian was The Boyfriend?" The Boyfriend's true identity remains a secret. This is only a hypothetical. (heh) If you like bensidy, then read and enjoy. If you *don't* like bensidy, then be patient, because the next chapter will be EO. If you hate bensidy so much that you can't even bring yourself to read this, then that's okay, because you can pick up from the next chapter without having missed a thing. Just tell yourself that this chapter was one of Olivia's crazy pregnancy dreams. Got it?
A/N: this chapter is pretty tame. No real sex or violence to speak of. Quotes from vindicated by dashboard confessional and a sorta fairytale by tori amos.
As always, I love feedback and I thank you for it in advance...unless you're just going to complain about a lack of elliot, in which case I'll know you're bad at following directions and/or reading comprehension. He'll be back next time and there will be abundant EO goodness, I promise.
{I am selfish, I am wrong
I am right, I swear I'm right
swear I knew it all along}
"What the he...eck are you doing in there?" Brian calls out from the living room.
"Getting dressed!" You give your reflection in the mirror a critical appraisal, wrinkling your nose slightly at what you see and pulling the shirt you had on up and over your head. "Five more minutes. That's all I need, I swear."
"You said that 20 minutes ago!"
Ignoring his complaints, you dig through your closet in search of any items you might've overlooked the last three times you went hunting. You're at an awkward stage where none of your old clothes fit right but you haven't gained enough weight yet to justify buying new stuff when you know this is just the beginning. At not quite 12 weeks you finally have a (small) baby bump, much to your excitement, but fully clothed you just look like you're bloated and have a hell of a boob job. Which is not the look you're going for today, aka the big day, aka the day where you're going to break the news to the Cassidy family.
Not that what you wear is going to matter that much. You'd decided to put off telling them until now, wanting to wait until you were almost out of the first trimester and you had gotten all your test results back, because you weren't sure how they would react and you didn't want to make an announcement only to have to retract it later. So you cried with relief when your doctor called to say that Little Bean wasn't showing any signs of possible birth defects at this point...and then you cried because you knew you couldn't keep avoiding this day for much longer.
To put it simply- they hate you. You're pretty much public enemy number one as far as the extended Cassidy clan is concerned, and you can't imagine that announcing your pregnancy is going to do anything to change that. Hell, you fully expect that their first reaction will be to ask you whose baby it is. If you're lucky, maybe you can get through lunch before someone suggests to Brian that he really ought to demand a paternity test before he gets too invested in this whole fatherhood thing.
You know it's all your fault in the first place. You understand why they don't like you, and frankly you don't blame them. They're looking out for their loved one and you deserve the skepticism. Doesn't keep you from feeling guilty, though, and it doesn't keep you from worrying that one of these days he's gonna wake up and realize they're right about you.
"YAY BALLS!" Noah shouts, running into the bedroom and belly flopping on the rug like he's sliding into home plate. Baseball is his newest obsession, so much so that Brian's taken to saving games on the DVR in anticipation of the off season. In the meanwhile, it's all ESPN and YouTube videos of players stealing bases over and over. And over.
"Noah, baby, Momma just got you looking so nice." You glance at yourself one more time, decide the shirt you have on is the winner simply because it hides how your jeans are unbuttoned, and then kneel down to fix Noah's disheveled hair. "Don't you want everyone to see how handsome you are?"
"You ever heard that saying about rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic? Cause that's kinda what you're doing right now," Brian says, picking Noah up and purposely ruffling his hair (much to the little boy's delight).
"Brian!"
"It's my mom's birthday party, not a baby beauty pageant. Now c'mon. The longer it takes, the worse he's going to look by the time we get there."
You reach for your glasses and then hesitate. "Maybe I should take Nick up on borrowing his old car. That way, if things get bad, I'll just come back here with Noah and you can stay as long as you want."
"Babe." He reaches out for your arm with his free hand, trying to nudge you toward the door. "We're fine. If it gets that shi- bad, I'm leaving too."
"But that's not fair to you, just because-"
"No. I'm not letting them chase you away. We're sticking together, the three of us."
"Four," you remind him.
"That's right," he says, grinning at Noah. "Little man's going to be a big bro! Gimme five?"
You watch Noah lift up his outstretched hand, smiling fondly. The two of them are so inseparable at this point that it's hard to believe they haven't been together from day one- again, much to the chagrin of his family, who seem to think your only motivation for getting back together with Brian was wanting a (temporary) baby daddy. This all came to a head a couple of months ago when neither his mother nor any of his sisters showed up to Noah's adoption party. You had been livid but tried to keep it together for Brian's sake, knowing it hurt him more than he would admit. As far as you know, he hadn't spoken to any of them since then save for one of his sisters, who insisted that the two of you and Noah should be at his mom's birthday. (Of course, she has no idea you're pregnant- that info might have changed her opinion had she known...).
Noah obligingly falls asleep the minute the car starts moving, giving you and Brian time to discuss your plans for his upcoming second birthday. He's been to a few parties for his daycare classmates that appeared to cost more than the entire amount you've budgeted for his college education, and while you don't have the means or desire to compete on that level, this is the first year he has actual little friends and so you feel like you should do something more than have the squad over for pizza like you did for his first birthday.
"I feel like you're overthinking this," Brian says when you tell him about all the elaborate ideas Nick has been sending you for toddler games and fair-trade crafts and make-your-own-gluten-free-sundae bars. "This is our son. Remember him? He spent an hour yesterday playing with a box of kleenex."
Our son. You duck your head and smile, hair falling in front of your face and hiding the slight blush on your cheeks. "Whose fault was that?"
"Hey, I didn't see you taking them away from him either." It had started with Brian giving him a nightly 'reward' of getting to pull a tissue out of the box after he brushed his teeth (and yes, you know your days of being able to use this sort of thing as a bribe are sadly numbered). Last night he had ran off with the whole box, flinging kleenex left and right while Brian just laughed and started recording the action on his phone. By the time you saw what was going on, the box was already half empty and honestly, Noah looked so happy that you didn't have the heart to stop him. So you let him have his fun, and then you informed Brian that it was up to him to take charge of clean-up.
"I just want to do something special for him, you know? I mean, this is his last birthday as an only child. Speaking of which...I've gotta show you the little doll cradle Nick's getting him."
"Nick's making this?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.
"God no. He has a friend who's into carpentry- although I think he wanted to paint it. I told him please, no kittens."
"No. One weird cat painting from Nick in our apartment is enough." You're amused (and thankful) that this is Brian's only objection to your idea of getting Noah a newborn doll for his birthday. Being the only boy in a house with four older sisters, he grew up with plenty of hand-me-down 'girl' toys and even a few outfits- you have a picture of him as a baby in a pink striped sleeper to prove it- and, as he says, 'I think I grew up to be pretty alright'.
Baba O'Reilly plays softly from the stereo, reminding you of all the trips you made out here after Brian had been shot and was recovering under his mother's watchful eye. You probably drove more miles that summer than you had driven in all the rest of your life combined ('and not even for sex,' as he had once remarked). Well. At least not most of the time. You're pretty sure you'll never be able to look at his mom's guest room with a straight face again, thinking about the time she arrived home early while you and her son were back there...uh. Brian was still moving pretty slowly at this point, leaving you struggling frantically to try and help him get his pants back on before Mrs. Cassidy came looking for you. In the end, you managed not to get caught, but it was definitely not a situation you ever dreamed you'd find yourself in at the age of 44.
It's hard to believe that was only a little over three years ago, when the two of you were just 'exclusive friends' and kids were so far off your radar as to be practically invisible. Now here you are, back at the same house as a couple with a kid in tow and another one on the way. You examine your reflection in the side mirror as you pull into the driveway, making a face. "I knew I shouldn't have worn this shirt. Honestly, do I look like I'm showing too much cleavage?"
He glances sideways at you. "Uh, no."
"You pervert. I'm serious here, should I button the top button? But then it looks like I'm trying to choke myself, and-"
"I'm serious too! I promise, I would not let you show up dressed like a-" He looks in the rearview mirror, seeing that Noah's awake and alert. "A...working woman."
You shake your head as you get out of the car and go around to the side door to get Noah unbuckled. A couple of Brian's cousins' kids run past you in play clothes- as Brian predicted, Noah looks a little overdressed in his baby business casual ensemble of a button down shirt and khakis, but you don't care. "Please be a good boy while we're here," you whisper to him, kissing the top of his head. "You and I have to make a good impression, okay?"
"Okay Momma," Noah says seriously. Now, if only he had any idea what he was agreeing to...
"Olivia!" someone calls out, and you turn around to see Brian's sister Michelle standing there with her own toddler on her hip- albeit this one is her grandchild. "Hi there, Noah! I'm so glad you guys could make it."
You smile appreciatively and thank her, trying to urge Noah to say hello as well. Even though you're pretty sure Michelle doesn't actually like you, she's the only sister who does a good job of faking it, and she even sent a gift for Noah when she couldn't make it to the adoption party. "Thank you so much again for the dinosaurs. He's...well, he's hidden them all over the apartment. We find them everywhere."
"Better than stepping on them," she says knowingly.
"Isn't that the truth." Noah's eager to let go of your hand and explore the backyard, and you're perfectly happy to avoid socializing with the adults under the guise of keeping an eye on Noah while he plays. This arrangement lasted a grand total of ten minutes before a storm cloud rolled in out of nowhere and the rain started to pour from the sky. Well, it was nice while it lasted, you think to yourself as the two of you run for cover.
Once you get inside, you see that someone has made a tent in the corner of the living room by draping a sheet over the backs of a few chairs. Noah's eyes light up when he spots Michelle's grandkids inside it, playing a game that seems to consist of throwing Lego pieces out of the tent.
"Let him go play," Brian says when you tell Noah he has to stay with you.
"But I can't keep an eye on him if he's back there."
"He'll be fine. There's nothing he can destroy, and you'll hear him if they start fighting."
Against your better judgment, you let Noah take off toward the tent and when you don't hear any protests from the other kids, you join Brian on the couch. He puts his arm around your shoulders and despite your general dislike for public displays of affection, you lean into him and look around the room like you're daring anyone to say something about it.
No one's really talking to you, but no one's talking about you either, so you consider that a win. Another one of Brian's cousins comes in, toting a baby carrier with a sleeping infant inside. She sets it down on the floor beside her and you watch the little baby with interest. She's moving her tiny hands in her sleep, sucking on a pacifier that's practically half as big as her face. You look over at Brian and see he's watching her too. Soon, he mouths, and you bite your lip to hide your grin.
Your pregnant woman bladder starts screaming again so you get up to go take care of business, purposely averting your eyes when you pass by the guest bedroom. When you come back to the living room, you see that the baby is now awake, smiling- and sans pacifier. You also notice that the makeshift tent is missing an occupant. "Where's Noah?" you ask the older girl, who points toward the guest room with a look that says don't blame me, it wasn't my idea.
As she predicted, you find Noah there, hiding in the corner of the room. "Noah, are you...?"
He looks up at you with guilty eyes and a pacifier in his mouth, knowing he's busted yet continuing to suck defiantly. "Noah. That's not yours, you can't take things that don't belong to you."
"What's up?" Brian asks as he appears in the doorway, seeing Noah and trying hard not to laugh. "Oh man! He needed a fix."
"This isn't funny," you complain. It'd been a major battle to break Noah of the pacifier habit, but you thought you were finally done with that for good- until now.
"C'mon buddy, you're a big boy. Remember? Pacifiers are for babies." Brian tries to take the contraband item out of Noah's mouth, only to be met with the jaws of life. "Liv? A little help here?"
Surprisingly, none of the takedown methods you learned at the academy were any help when it came to trying to pry a pacifier away from a not quite two year old. But then Noah made the grave tactical error of opening his mouth to let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead, giving you just enough time to recover the stolen property. That's criminals for you- eventually they'll always crack under the pressure.
Noah continues to wail as you sheepishly return to the living room to hand the pacifier back to its rightful owner. Baby Ella's mother assures you that it's not a big deal, that Ella hasn't even noticed it was missing because she was too busy sucking on her fingers, but you still can't shake the feeling that everyone else in the room must be judging you for raising a thief. Stealing other people's pacifiers, other people's husbands- like mother like son, right?
{in too deep now to ever swim against the current}
"Food's almost ready," Mrs. Cassidy announces from the kitchen, and you and Brian glance at each other wordlessly before you give him a nod. Noah's finally cried himself out, much to everyone's relief, and now is curled up in your lap sulking and looking forlorn.
Brian rubs his hands together, grimacing like he's trying to psych himself up for an interrogation. "Uh, yeah. Before we eat? I've kinda got something to say. Or we do, I guess." Now all eyes are on you. "Mom? Did you hear me?"
"I'm listening," she says as she comes out of the kitchen. She's got a smile on her face, but everyone else seems to be watching you warily as if they're convinced you're about to...what? Make a public announcement that you're fucking someone else on the side again?
"Well. Uh. Turns out we're, uh, well. We're not, but Olivia is. Olivia's pregnant."
Now everyone just looks confused, and you're wishing you could sink right in between the couch cushions and hide in there like Noah's toy dinosaurs. "I'm, we're...the baby's due in April," you manage to blurt out in a rush.
Michelle is the first to break the silence. "That's- that must have been quite a surprise."
"Yeah, we didn't think-" You give him the side eye before he can start rambling about your lack of birth control or your biological clock or whatever might be about to come out of his mouth. "But we wanted Noah to have a sibling, so...we're excited."
He's smiling, you're trying to smile, and everyone else is looking around the room for some sort of cue as to how they should act. The consensus seems to be that they should continue to stare at you, mouths slightly agape. "The middle of April," you repeat, as if someone might have missed that piece of the announcement amidst all the celebration.
More silence. You look frantically at Brian, willing him to say something, anything to distract from the mounting awkwardness.
Noah squirms in your lap, tugging on your sleeve to make sure you're listening. "Noah pooped," he informs you (and the whole room).
Well. Not quite the 'something' you were hoping for- but you suppose it'll do.
{I am flawed but I am cleaning up so well}
By some miracle, the weather had cleared up by the time you finished eating. You had managed to get out of having to sit with the group by staying with Noah, who was happily munching away on a blanket you'd set out on the living room floor, oblivious to the tension all around him.
"Why don't we take Noah outside so he can play," you suggest quietly to Brian, the look on your face letting him know this wasn't just a suggestion.
"Sure thing. Hey Audrey," he said, turning around to look for his niece, "we're gonna go have Noah run laps around the yard until I'm sure he'll sleep for 14 hours tonight. Want us to take yours too?"
"Go for it," she says, and as you bend down to tie Noah's shoe, you notice Mrs. Cassidy is alone in the kitchen.
"Bri, on second thought- you go ahead and take Noah, and I'll be there in just a sec."
"Is everything okay? You feel alright?"
"I'm fine," you promise, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek to reassure him. "I've gotta...Fin's on call and he left me a message, so I should make sure it's nothing urgent."
He accepts this answer and you watch him herd the kids out the door before you slip into the kitchen, hoping no one else will come in and interrupt you. "Uh, Joannie? Could I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, what is it?" she asks, and for all the murderers and rapists you've gone toe to toe with on the job, there's no way you should be this nervous about a conversation with your boyfriend's mother.
"I know that...this whole baby announcement, it must've been a shock. And I know you're probably not thrilled."
"Oh, I didn't say that."
"And thank you for...I'm glad you didn't. But I can tell that you're, ah, surprised," you say, choosing your words as diplomatically as possible. "And maybe not in a good way."
"Well. It's not that I'm unhappy about having another grandchild."
"I know. It's me that's the problem." You shake your head as she starts to open her mouth, and you start to reach out and touch her arm before you think better of it. "You're not...it's okay if you feel that way. I wish you didn't, but I understand. I've made mistakes. And I've changed, but I still have to live with the consequences. I get that. I can't ask you to like me; I get that too. But all I'm saying is please, please don't take it out on Brian."
"I'm not angry with him. I know he's an adult and he can make his own decisions," she says, scrubbing furiously at some invisible stain on the countertop.
"But he knows you don't approve. Like when you didn't come to the adoption party...it bothered him. He might've acted like it didn't, but it really did."
"I told him, it was the same day as Crystal's graduation, and that's a lot of driving for one afternoon."
Good thing police work has made you a master at deflecting excuses. "Yeah. But you could've called, or..."
"I called him the next morning- it's not like he was actually involved in the adoption anyway." Ah. So there it is.
"You know that...eventually, I hope he'll be able to officially adopt Noah too. It just takes time and in the meanwhile- we've worked it out with our attorney that he's legally Noah's guardian. He has basically every right that I do and if God forbid, something happened to me, Brian would be the one to raise him."
"But that's all under your control, isn't it? He loves that little boy like he's his own...but he's not."
You bite your lip, looking downward for a moment. "I know you probably don't believe a word I say, but all I can do is ask you to trust that...as much as I want this to work with Brian, I can't promise that we'll be together forever. No one can. But I will promise you that no matter what happens with him and me, I'd never try to keep him away from the kids. I consider Noah to be every bit as much his child as this baby will be and...he will always have a place in their life and he will always be their father."
"And now with this baby he'll always have one more thing tying him to you," she says after pausing to consider this, still not looking in your direction.
"He will. But he knew that when...well. We didn't really plan on this, as far as me getting pregnant, but we knew we wanted another baby. He was actually the one who started talking about it first," and you're not sure if saying that will just make her more convinced of her son's poor decision making, but you wanted it to be clear that this wasn't some sort of plan you hatched to further trap him in this relationship. "That he trusted me enough to make that kind of commitment- because you're right, it means we'll always have that tie to each other- I don't take that lightly. I love him, I love the life we have now and...I'm trying not to screw it up this time."
She nods, finally setting down the sponge she's been using. "I know he's happy. I don't doubt that. And it's not that I dislike you..."
"But you don't trust me, either," you finished. "And like I said...I guess I don't blame you. I just don't think it's fair that Brian or Noah, or this baby, has to be punished for it. Because I want you to have a good relationship with your grandchild, and I hope you can accept Noah too regardless of how you feel about me. Even if you have to fake it. I know what it's like to not be accepted by your family because of who your parent is and...I'm not going to let that happen to my kids."
Her face softens a little. "Brian told me about how you never knew your dad. That he was some sort of criminal."
"That's...yeah. That's one way to put it. He was...well, he raped my mother. And then nine months later, I came along."
"Oh. Honey. I had no idea," she says, the look in her eyes changing from suspicion to sympathy. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what else to say other than that."
"That's okay. It is what it is...but that's why I'm so sensitive about Noah not being treated any differently just because we're not his bioparents. Especially with this new baby coming. I don't want to make Brian have to choose sides, I really don't, but I'm not going to have my kids around people who they can tell resent them."
She's silent again for a long minute, and you can't tell what she's thinking until she looks back up at you, head slightly tilted to one side. "I didn't get a chance to ask...how's the baby doing? You must've had a couple of appointments by now, right?"
"I have," you say, not bothering to point out that she had plenty of chances to ask while everyone was sitting around with their mouths hanging open. She's trying, and that's all you can ask for. "We did the whole battery of first trimester tests and everything looked good, so that was a relief. We're doing our best to stay positive- well, I am. Brian does a lot better job of that than I do."
"And how've you been feeling?"
Horny is the first word that comes to mind, so you quickly search for a more appropriate second opinion. "I feel like I've been lucky so far, honestly. I get nauseous a couple of times a day but I'm still able to eat, and I'm tired a lot-"
"But you have a two year old! That's just expected."
"Exactly," you say with a laugh. "And I want to make sure I spend as much one on one time as I can with him now...but mostly I'm just trying to enjoy this and remember everything. I know this is probably the only pregnancy I'll ever have, and probably my last child so...my mom never got the chance to go through all this and have it be a good thing, the anticipation of having a new baby on the way, so I guess I want to make sure I appreciate it all as much as I can."
She reaches out and pats your hand. "I'm sure your mom would be proud if she could see you now."
"I...I hope so. I'm trying." You blink rapidly to clear your watery eyes before you change the subject. "Before I forget, we have a present for you."
You go over to the hall closet and reach into your purse for the gift in question, apologizing for the lack of wrapping (Noah had took it upon himself to unwrap it this morning and you didn't have time to fix it). Still, she looks pleased to see the little framed ultrasound snapshot. "Thank you, honey. I'll keep this with the rest of the photos of the grandkids until we get newborn pictures."
"You...I mean, you're welcome," you say, smiling although you're a bit flustered. "I should go check on Bri and Noah, they're probably wondering where I am, but...I appreciate you taking the time to hear me out."
You'd already turned to leave before you heard her say your name. "Olivia? I know you guys have a regular babysitter, but if she's ever not available and you need someone to watch Noah- well, you've got my number."
"I do. And I...I think he would like that."
You give her another grateful smile and then follow the sound of Noah's laughter outside.
{all in all was a pretty nice day}
Brian knocks on the closed bathroom door. "You okay in there?"
"Yeah, I'm in the tub. Door's open if you wanna come in." You tilt your head back to see him, covered up to your shoulders in bubbles. "Has he stayed quiet?"
"So far so good."
"What are we going to do when we have another baby? Are we out of our minds?" Your plan to wear Noah out at the Cassidy house had backfired epically- by the time you got home, he was too overtired to sleep. Instead, you had yourselves a toddler who was cranky, miserable, and oh so awake. "We can't even figure out this parenting thing with one kid."
"Hey, I got him to go to bed, didn't I?"
"Only because you let him have some more kleenex!"
He shrugs, sitting down on the bathroom floor so you're at the same eye level. "Uh, but it worked, and I didn't hear you coming up with any better ideas so...I think this is where you should be thanking me."
"Oh, should I?" you ask, purposely splashing him. "I don't want him starting to think that life is just a series of things you do for bribes."
"But isn't that really all it is, when it comes down to it?"
"Don't get philosophical with me, Cassidy. This is how it starts. Next thing we know...I don't want to be dropping him off at college and telling him he can have a whole box of kleenex if he keeps his grades up."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's not gonna happen. He'll have discovered money by then."
You groan, sinking further down into the water. "You're so helpful."
"Okay, fine. Next time he throws a tantrum, that's it. No playing around. He'll go to his room and we're just gonna pretend like we don't hear him. Even if he screams all night, that's how it goes. No rewards for bad behavior."
"Or...we could tell him he can have a kleenex if he shuts up, and then we can actually get some sleep." There's not even a question about which option you'll choose. "You think we'll be any better at this by the time Little Bean's this age?"
"Hey, we're doing alright. That's what my mom said, anyway."
Your eyes widen in surprise. "She did?"
"I know, it caught me off guard. But she said he looks happy, and he's lucky to have you. Well, us...but especially you."
Wow, you think. You wait to see if his mom had mentioned your conversation to him, but when he doesn't say anything more, you assume she hasn't. Which is for the best, actually. If she really is going to make an attempt, you'd rather he think it was solely on her own initiative.
He snickers to himself and you raise an eyebrow. "Problem?"
"No, just...remember that time when we were over at Mom's and we thought she'd be gone for a few more hours, so-"
"God, yes. Yes, I do. I can't believe we..." You groan, shaking your head.
"You think she suspected anything?"
"Uh. Yes."
"Y'know...we never got to finish what we started."
"You don't say," you drawl, watching the flash of red as your painted toenails peek out from underneath the bubbles, trying to act like you have to think about this even though he knows he's pretty damn irresistible to you at the moment. "I'll be out in a few minutes. Just lemme enjoy the last of the warm water."
"I'll go check on Noah...oh, hey. I forgot to say, Mom must've remembered that his birthday's coming up, cause she asked what he wanted."
"What'd you tell her?"
"Eh. I said, just get him a box of kleenex."
{like a good book I can't put this day back
a sorta fairytale with you}