As expected, the Tiffany's owner was less than pleased by Oliver and Grace showing up with seven little girls at their side. The woman almost didn't let them in, but money did wonders, especially in the midst of a Depression, and after Oliver promised to personally pay for any damage the girls did, they all went in, Annie racing straight to a display case of rings.

"This is the one," she said, almost immediately, pointing to a band with a large opal in the middle. "The blue would be so pretty with your skin. You look so good in blue. That pantsuit you wore when you took me from the orphanage! It brings out all your best features."

"Does it, now?" Grace chuckled, squeezing Annie's shoulder she peered at the ring. "It is pretty. Oliver, what do you think?"

He just eyed her, as though to make it clear he was nowhere near being an authority on the matter. "Whatever makes you happy," he said. "I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea about what looks good, so you just say the word, and we'll get it."

"She wants to see it!" Annie announced to the clerk overseeing the group. "Oh, and she wants to see that one, too—the one with the red stuff in the middle!"

"The red stuff?" Pepper asked, mockingly. "It's called a ruby."

"What's the other one called?" Duffy asked, hopping onto her tiptoes. "Wait, how do you know that?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "I read. Maybe you should try it sometime." She stepped closer to Grace as the clerk passed over the opal ring. "That's an opal. Or a sapphire. I think opal, sapphire's a lighter blue."

Grace smiled a little, sliding the ring onto her finger. At once, her breath caught, and she felt tears welling in her eyes. "My," she whispered. "It's beautiful."

Oliver also stepped close, leaning down to examine the piece. "Annie's quite right," he said. "The blue matches your complexion beautifully."

She leaned her head up, kissing him. "I think this is the one," she said. "I don't need to see anything else, this is the one."

"There's still an entire jewelry store left at your disposal," he replied, chuckling. "You've seen one ring, and you don't want to look at any others? This is what you're to wear until the day you die, my dear."

"Opal was my mother's birthstone," Grace shook her head, tears continuing to slip down her cheeks as she stared at the ring. "It was meant to be. I hadn't even remembered until Annie picked it out. It's like she's here still—I wouldn't feel right wearing anything else."

"Very well, then," Oliver cleared his throat, looking at the clerk. "We'll take this one. How's the sizing, dear? Does it need any adjustments?"

"It's perfect," she shook her head, sniffling as she did. "It's like it was made for me."

"Wow, Annie," Molly breathed. "Did you know all that stuff? Did you know it'd fit her perfectly?"

Annie shook her head, gaze not budging from its spot on the ring. "No clue," she said. "'Wow' is right. It was really your mom's birthstone, Miss Farrell?"

"Indeed, it was," Grace smiled again, wrapping Annie in a hug. "I suppose I did need an extra pair of eyes for this excursion, didn't I? Look at me, I'm a right mess now." She chuckled, gratefully accepting a tissue the owner was holding out to her. Dabbing at her eyes, she let out a shuddery breath. "Thank you, Annie. Thank you for giving me a reminder of my mother, you have no idea how much I needed that."

Annie just stared up at her, guilt surging through her now, unsure of how to respond. She'd seen Grace cry during their trip to the movies, of course, but that was different—films were made to make people cry, sometimes. How were you to respond to someone crying about their mother passing away?

"What was she like?" she then decided to ask, hoping the question wouldn't seem insensitive. It varied, she knew, depending on who you were asking. For someone who found comfort in the memory of their parents, like Molly, being asked that was one of the best things you could do for them. For someone like Pepper, who'd rather forget about any pain they'd ever suffered, it made them angry, made them shut down. She hoped Grace would respond more like Molly did, but she could also see her having a reaction like Pepper. When Grace looked up, though, surprised as though nobody had asked that of her in a very long time—if ever—Annie's shoulders relaxed.

"So lovely," Grace answered, still with the tissue against her eyes. "She reminds me a lot of you, actually. Always an upbeat attitude, even when she had every reason to be upset. She worked as a seamstress while I was a schoolgirl. Oh, did she love it. And, my father… her entire world revolved around him. She loved him so much, you could see it with everything she did for him."

"Did she get to see you come work for Mr. Warbucks?" Annie glanced up and looked at Oliver. "I bet she was real proud of you for that, wasn't she?"

"I'd like to think she would've been," Grace took in a shuddery breath. "Unfortunately, she'd passed a good deal before then. In fact, it was my father's passing that inspired me to look elsewhere for work. I grew up in Connecticut, if you can believe that. I hadn't known anything about the city until I first stepped foot here when I was twenty-eight. Until then, farmland was all I'd been exposed to."

"Farmland?" Annie's eyes widened. "Whoa, Miss Farrell. You?"

She chuckled. "It doesn't seem to fit me, does it?"

"Not at all." She shook her head, impressed. "What did they pass from? Can I ask that?"

"Of course, sweetheart. I think it's better, actually, that we do ask those questions. A lot of hurt happens when you never talk about the people you love after they're gone," she sighed. "I was fourteen when Mother got sick. Influenza. We'd heard about it, and we did all we could to get her better, tried every remedy in the book—even the ones Father didn't approve of. Her body was too frail, though. She was just starting to feel more like herself, and then she couldn't handle it any longer. She passed just a couple days before Thanksgiving."

"Gee, Miss Farrell," her gaze dropped. "I'm real sorry."

"Oh, you learn to live with it. Carry her in other ways—like this ring," she chuckled, staring at her palm again. "Father was distraught after she left us. Of course he was, she was his only love. Unfortunately, he turned to the bottle soon after. That wrecked his body much the way Mother's influenza did. I was surprised, actually, that he managed to live as long as he did after she passed with the way he took care of himself."

Annie's eyebrows furrowed. "You can die from drinking too much?"

"That, you can," Grace nodded solemnly. "After so long going on that way, your liver starts to fail, then other organs in tandem. If you don't stop as soon as the damage becomes known, you don't stand a chance. The sad part is, Father knew what was happening, but I don't think he very much cared. Once you live long enough without the person who made you happiest, all you want is to be back with them."

"Leaping lizards," Annie shook her head regretfully. "That's awful."

"I like to think he's at peace now," Grace kissed her cheek. "And I like to think, wherever he is, he's proud to see that I'm making something good of my life. I think he'd have loved you, dear."

Annie nodded a little, though her gaze was fixated on the floor, as though she were elsewhere. Grace placed a hand on her back, gently, and as she looked up, Grace smiled gently.

"Something on your mind, dear?"

"Oh, it's just…" she sighed a little. "Miss Hannigan. She's like your dad, isn't she? She drinks a lot. I mean, a lot, a lot. D'you think she's at a point where she's getting sick from it all, too?"

Taken aback by the question, Grace immediately looked up at Oliver, who was just as surprised. Given the woman had terrorized their daughter for all of her ten years thus far, it was puzzling to find such empathy towards her. At the same time, it was a conversation neither felt was very appropriate to have with her—not to mention, the littler girls, who hardly understood what alcohol even was.

"I'm sure Miss Hannigan will be alright," Grace reassured, though the tone in her voice was less than confident. "It's unlikely she's been drinking as long as my father had. I believe you told me she hasn't always been this way, right?"

"Only the past couple years," Pepper offered, her arms crossed over her chest. "It was the Depression that did her in. They kept stuffing us inside that place, and she didn't know what to do. Nobody did. We were all crying, everyone was upset, and we ain't had enough food for even half of us. Of course, she tried to drown it all out."

Annie's eyebrows furrowed. "We can help her, Mr. Warbucks, can't we?" she crossed over to him, staring up with worry filled in her eyes. "I do remember her being nice when I was little. Kind of, it's kind of blurry, but she's the only one who was in charge, so I know it had to be her. She'd come in at night, and she'd turn on lanterns 'cause it got dark and some of us got scared. She's not a bad person, I don't think—it's like Pepper said, she just got beat up by the Depression. Like everyone who's homeless now."

Oliver opened his mouth, and then shut it, knowing none of the choice words he had for Agatha Hannigan were words he could utter at the moment. Depression or not, stressed or not, there was always another choice. Going down the path of no return, that was a last resort—and he knew that all too well, because he'd been in those shoes himself. After Jimmy, it'd have been so easy to shut down. A kid on the docks, nobody to care about him, he could've disappeared into himself, into the bottle like Miss Hannigan, and nobody would've been able to blame him for it. It was a choice to remain strong, which meant it was just as much a choice to break down and let yourself fall victim to habits that made you nasty to everyone you encountered. And she'd done that in the presence of children.

Annie may have been empathetic; the rest of the girls, too.

As an adult, though, he had no intention of letting Agatha off the hook that easily.

"I think perhaps this is a conversation we should save for later," he said after a moment, clearing his throat and readjusting his suit jacket. "We needn't worry about Miss Hannigan right now. This is a day to celebrate. It's a new beginning for all of us, no?"

Annie's face fell, and though she exchanged a glance with Pepper, hoping the older girl would argue with Oliver, Pepper just shrugged, clearly not in the mood to try and fight with the richest man in the world. Smiling a little, Oliver held his hand out to Grace, helping her stand and brushing away the few straying tears on her cheeks.

"Come along," he continued. "We've found a perfect engagement ring, but we don't have any outfits for the engagement celebration. We all need that trip to Bergdorf's now."

Annie's eyes lit up. "Engagement celebration?" she asked. "We're having a party?"

"This is news to me, too," Grace gave Oliver a pointed look. "What celebration, may I ask?"

"Oh, you didn't think I was going to just announce this to the papers and call it a day from there, did you?" he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. "I have big ideas. We're going to go all out, dress to the nines, each and every one of us. I'm seeing crowds of people. The President, Mrs. Roosevelt, too. Oh, and all his cabinet, of course. And, I'm wondering—what do you girls think about a circus?"

"A circus?" Tessie's eyes just about bulged out of her head. "With elephants and clowns and fireworks?"

"And cotton candy, too, of course," he chuckled. "Am I correct in assuming none of you have ever been able to attend one before now?"

"Molly got to go when she was real little," Annie said, just as mesmerized by the suggestion as Tessie was. "She said there were elephants on roller skates. Does that really happen at the circus, Mr. Warbucks?"

"Of course it does!" Molly piped up. "I'm not a liar, Annie—I'm not Pepper!"

Oliver laughed again. "She's quite right," he agreed. "Elephants on roller skates is just the start. There are fine acrobatics teams, as well—I imagine they'll be hanging from the rafters as soon as we set everything up."

"Leaping lizards," Annie just shook her head, not even able to reflect her full excitement in the midst of how amazed she was. "When can we do this?"

"Ah, well, there's a rather important holiday coming up," he smirked a little. "Does the Fourth sound alright to you all?"

"The Fourth of July?" Grace asked, a little weakly. "That's just five days away, Oliver."

"I suppose we'll all have to work 'round the clock, then," he kissed her cheek. "Unless you're not up to task?"

She raised an eyebrow, knowing all too well that he knew her competitive nature. During her time as his secretary, she'd broken records of putting events together quicker than most would even dream feasible, and it was clear that trend was not about to let up anytime soon. She let out a humph, straightening her posture.

"I think I can pencil it in," she said, folding her arms over her chest. "It's a good thing I have seven little helpers now, isn't it?"

"You're gonna let us help?" July's eyes lit up, just as Annie's had mere minutes prior. "Whoa. Most adults would think we'd just mess everything up."

"Not you girls," Grace shook her head. "In fact, I think this'll be just about the best celebration we've ever held. Better than Christmas. Better than the biggest birthday party you could ever dream of. I've done a good job with parties before, on my own, but with you helping out…" she laughed a little. "I suppose I should schedule a clean-up crew for several days afterwards, something tells me we'll make quite the mess."

"Not if we don't get a move on first!" Annie yelled. "Come on, we've gotta get to Bergdorf's, then we've gotta start planning everything. Miss Farrell, which way do we walk to Bergdorf's?"

Grace laughed. "I think we're going to drive, dear," she said. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, though—we're going to need it."

"You girls should go on," Oliver said, gently sliding the opal ring off Grace's finger. "I'll finish paying up here and catch up with you."

Grace smiled at him, her eyes once more fixated on the stone. "It really is beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you. I love you."

"Not as much as I love you, my dear," he caressed her cheek, kissing her. "I'll see you in a few minutes. Try not to lose your head stuck alone with so many children."

"I'll do my best," she chuckled, letting her gaze linger on him now. She remained that way for a moment, then, as the girls started clamoring, telling her to follow them, she broke away, waving as she exited the store. Oliver waved back, then turned back to the ring, sighing, contented, still unsure how he'd gotten so lucky in such a short span of time.

This had never felt like the right path prior to now. Now, it was the only one he could imagine.

Oliver Warbucks, the family man.

He rather liked the sound of that.

/

The afternoon at Bergdorf's proved to be exhausting just as much as it was rewarding.

All seven girls walked away with a new wardrobe's worth of clothes, more than any of them could feasibly carry home in bags. Instead, Grace scheduled for a delivery back to the mansion, and they walked away with only the outfits they absolutely couldn't part with—including a new jumper for Pepper, several play dresses for July, a sweater and skirt set for Duffy, a summer dress for Kate, and pajamas for both Molly and Tessie. Annie, meanwhile, only walked out with the outfit she'd found for the party—something neither Grace nor Oliver had been allowed to see as of yet. According to the girl, it was "perfect", which apparently also meant it had to remain a surprise. Nevertheless, the girls were happy, and that was all that mattered to Oliver and Grace. This afternoon, for the first time perhaps ever, they'd been allowed to just be children. They ran around in Bergdorf's, chattered loudly over the table at dinner, played in Central Park after they'd all eaten, and then risked giving themselves stomachaches with mountain-high ice cream sundaes at Rumplemeyer's. It was a day none of them could've ever dreamed of, and the fact that four of the seven girls fell asleep before even arriving back to the mansion showed just how at ease they truly were. As Grace and Oliver both took turns carrying them up to their rooms, Grace could only feel her heart yearning more and more for them. She was sure there were colleagues of Oliver's that'd adopt, if urged hard enough. But, could she bear to see the children separated?

If they were in a lucky enough position to house seven girls, and provide for them all in the way they needed—which they were—then weren't they under the obligation to do so?

"They're so peaceful," Grace whispered after all the girls had been tucked in and were either asleep, or close to it. She and Oliver were peering into the guest room from the doorway, her hand on his arm, and her head on his shoulder. Each of the girls had been offered their own quarters since the night before, Mrs. Greer and Cecile both thinking they'd be desperate for the space after spending their lives cooped up with one another. Vehemently, though, they'd declined the separation, and now, they were all curled up in the same bed as one another, Annie included. The redhead, Grace noticed, was sleeping more soundly than she had ever since coming to the mansion, and the smiles on the other girl's faces told her they felt safe, as well. Tears began to well in her eyes. It truly was a special bond they shared, wasn't it?

"How I wish I could be young again," Oliver replied, chuckling as he wrapped his arm around his fiancée. "They had quite a bit of fun this afternoon, didn't they? That little one, Molly… she's got some spunk for someone so small."

"She gets it from Annie," Grace looked up at him. "I know as much from what Annie's told me—she said she played 'mother' to Molly back in the orphanage. She'd comfort her after her nightmares, make sure she had enough food for the day. It's only natural for Molly to take after her."

"The other ones, too, they're rather funny," he smiled a little. "I never realized I could be so amused by the arguments between little girls."

"I do hope I wasn't that bothersome to Mother when I was their age," she chuckled now, too, then sighed as she stepped forward and shut the door. Oliver looked at her quizzically, and she bit down on her lip, hoping he'd be perceptive to what she was about to ask. "I've been thinking this afternoon," she began, and as he raised an eyebrow, she realized, quickly, this was very much a now-or-never question. Quickly, she blurted, "What if we adopted all of them?"

He choked a little, clearly not expecting the question. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, Oliver, they're just so close," she shook her head. "They're all so sweet, too, every last one of them. I know you mentioned your colleagues taking some of them in, but, well… why can't we? I've always wanted a big family. Maybe it's unorthodox, bringing seven in at once, but maybe that's how it was meant to be for us. I just… I don't think I can bear even one of them being adopted by someone else, not after this afternoon."

He gaped at her, fully unsure of how to respond. Adopt seven children all in one fell swoop? That was recipe for disaster, wasn't it? Business would suffer, surely. And what would Annie think if they adopted the other six? Would she resent them for stealing the parents she'd finally found?

"I don't…" He rubbed his hand down the length of his face. "Grace—"

"This is right for us," she whispered, stepping close and cupping her hands around his face. "You saw them just now, they don't even want to sleep alone. They're already sisters, all we'd be doing is making it official. And, we can help them, all of them. They've all been traumatized one way or another. We can help them come out of their shells. I mean, I just keep thinking about Pepper, the way she was crying earlier, when Annie talked about losing her birth parents," she sighed. "She tries so hard to hold it together, but she's just a little girl, too, just like the rest of them. If we can help her realize she can finally relax, let her guard down, it's worth it, don't you think?"

He set his jaw. "Seven girls is a lot, Grace."

"And we have the resources to do it," she kissed his cheek. "Will you at least think about it? For me, please?"

He sighed, shutting his eyes. This was ridiculous. It was asinine. But Grace's heart was already set on it.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll think about it. I'll sleep on it, alright?"

"That's all I ask," she kissed him again, properly this time. "I'm going to go check in with Mrs. Greer and Mrs. Pugh. I'll come and say goodnight to you in a little while."

He nodded, weakly, just watching her go while remaining frozen in place. Then, once she was safely out of eye—and ear—shot, he sighed, loudly, rubbing his face. Seven girls. Seven. He'd be crazy to do it, wouldn't he? He'd have lost his marbles, surely. He'd never been a parent before, hardly had ever even been around children aside from when he was a child himself, and now, he was debating adopting seven all at once? What if he messed them up? What if he wasn't good enough?

Then again…

What if he lost Grace by saying no?