A/N: Sorry for the delay in publishing this chapter. I had a packed weekend with absolutely no time to spend editing this chapter. Excuse all typos, please.
Bujuman: Benny was suffering too, that's why he reacted that way to Gerry. Guest, you'll see more of Hildie in this chapter and Nora is still away trying heal. Monica: your comments about affordable and quality healthcare are right on target. Fitz and Olivia are wealthy and will be ok in that respect. Cleo: glad you caught those snippets from season 2. Here we go!
Chapter 32. Diary of a Madman
Sitting in the dimly lit study, Olivia leans forward on her elbows studying the invitation she received in the mail today to speak at the annual Women's Conference again. She shakes her head as she fingers the textured sheet of paper because March is such a busy month at the foundation. With March being Women's Month, she and Mona always have so much to do to prepare for the annual conference. To add to their stress, World Water Day also occurs in March, which requires them to have their brochures and signage ready for the printer by mid-December. March Madness is certainly an appropriate moniker for the busy and unpredictable month and, for her, it has nothing to do with college basketball. She tosses the invitation onto the desk, leans back in the chair, and stares at the professionally printed invitation for a few minutes. She will not be speaking at the Women's Conference or any other event next year. Too much has happened and she needs to be present for her family.
She massages her forehead trying to obtain some relief from the pounding in her head, which is partly a result of the brain concussion and partly due to listening to Mayor Wilson drone on and on for the last half-hour about how sorry he is for the tragedy that has befallen her family. She loathes everything about the man and not just because he detests her husband for beating his candidate in the special election, but because of his lack of regard for the city's disadvantaged. Everyone knows Wilson is in the back pockets of certain segments of the city's business community, which has left him deaf to the needs of the underprivileged. But, as the wife of a public official, she was gracious and spent 29 minutes too long on the phone with the man.
Although Dr. Stein said the headaches and dizziness should only last for a few days, they will however, at times, make it difficult for her to concentrate and perform her daily activities. He also said she should expect to experience bouts of irritation, which she was definitely feeling while talking with Mayor Wilson. Dr. Stein ordered her to get a lot of sleep at night and rest during the day. He said rest helps the brain to heal. So, she tucks one leg under her bottom, closes her eyes, and wraps herself in the sweater her husband always leaves hanging on the arm of the chair. Inhaling deeply to take in his scent, she silently thanks God for showing mercy on her family. She swipes the tears from her cheeks, thinking how close they all came to dying on the top of that isolated mountain because some anonymous drunk decided to get behind the wheel of his two-ton truck and crash into them. Shivering from the thought, she pulls her husband's sweater more tightly around her body and looks around the room at the flowers and other gifts sent by their friends, colleagues, and clients. She shakes her head thinking there is a sliver of difference between wishes for a speedy recovery and expressions of sympathy.
"Livia, what are you still doing awake? I hope you're not in here working", her mother says, the brass charms on her bracelet jingling as she walks into the study.
"I just needed to return a few calls, mom. A lot of people have been calling today to check on us."
"You and Fitzgerald are well liked, Livvia", Gwendolyn says, looking around the room at all of the flower arrangements, fruit baskets, and other gifts. "We ran out of space in the other rooms so Hildie and I put some of the flowers in here."
"People are being kind", Olivia says sadly.
"Well, I've collected all of the cards and have labeled them with the names of the senders and the item they sent. Hildie and I will start sending out thank-you notes next week."
"Thanks mom. I'm so glad you and dad are here. I don't know if I could get through all of this without you", tears streaming down her face again.
"Aww baby, everything is going to be all right. Fitzgerald will be up and about in no time. And, Cena well she'll be walking soon - once she starts therapy. And that Jolie is not going to let that cast stop her from trying to bang on things with her toys."
"I know, but so much has happened over the last year, mom. This accident is just the latest thing."
"The election is over now, Livvia. Things will settle down once you all are healthy again."
Olivia smiles weakly, thinking her mother has no idea about everything she and Fitz have been through, starting with her leaving her family for two months and living at Mirage. She chuckles inwardly as she thinks her running to the beautiful mountains to escape the stress of everyday life, and months later almost dying on one of those same mountains.
"Well, I want you to rest - you have a concussion", standing from the chair and walking around the desk and extending a hand to her daughter. "Your father and I are here to take care of you and your family. We're not going anywhere."
"I appreciate you and dad being here to help us", she says, taking her mother's hand and standing to her feet.
"We are your parents, Livvia. You give for those you love", hugging her only child tightly.
Olivia smiles, reveling in her mother's warm embrace. She is thrilled her parents are here for this most recent crisis in her life. While she loves the Grants and her friends, there is nothing like having her mother – her parents – around to support and comfort her during the most challenging time of her life. She has missed them so much.
XXX
Olivia displays a genuine smile as she walks into their bedroom carrying the large bouquet of flowers the New Gs sent. She decided to bring them up to their bedroom thinking they might help to cheer up her husband. She shakes her head when she sees him sleeping on his back with his mouth hanging open and drooling. After what they have been through, seeing him like that is the most beautiful sight in the world. She wishes she had her phone so she could take a picture to capture the moment. She will have to buy a new phone when she goes to her doctor's appointment and have lunch with Marion next week. She sets the heavy vase of the flowers onto the table across from the bed and Fitz begins to stir.
"Can I get you anything, babe?" Turning when she hears him coughing.
"No - I don't want anything", sighing heavily as he struggles to slide up against the headboard.
"Babe, the house is filled with flowers, fruit baskets, and all sorts of gifts. Many of your clients from all over have sent well wishes."
He nods and reaches for the bottle of water on his nightstand.
"These are from Marcella and the team", she says, rearranging some of the flowers in the large vase. "They've been concerned about you."
"That was nice of them", smiling slightly at the colorful bouquet of flowers.
"Mayor Wilson called", she says carefully, continuing to fluff the flowers. "He wanted to express his concern and tell you to take whatever time you need to heal. He said your confirmation will be delayed until you're ready to start as council president."
"Wilson is an ass", he musters up enough strength to say. "How are you feeling?" Watching his wife play with the floral arrangement.
"I'm fine", plastering a smile on her face before turning to look at him.
"You're not fine, Liv. You have a concussion. I don't want you running around here trying to do everything. You need to rest."
"Our family has been so helpful, babe. Mom and dad are getting the girls ready for bed as we speak."
"That's good, now you should come to bed", beckoning for her to lay down with him.
XXX
A few hours later, being careful not to further injure his fractured ribs, Fitz turns slowly in the bed and looks at his wife who is in a deep sleep.
"Liv", he whispers softly, trying not to startle her, but she does budge.
"Livvie", he says with more urgency, now shaking her shoulder, but she still does not waken.
"Livvie", shaking her a little more vigorously until she finally wakens.
"What – what?" Jolting up in bed. "What's the matter? Is something wrong? Are you hurting?" Trying to find his eyes in the dark room.
"I have to pee. I tried to hold it longer – until morning - but …."
"Fitz, you're going to damage your bladder trying to hold it. Just wake me whenever you have to go", throwing back the covers and rushing around to his side of the bed.
"I hate having to wake you, Liv", trying to get out of bed on his own stead. "You need your sleep, too."
"Come on, babe, lean on me", helping him to his feet, and he feels woozy immediately.
She wraps and arm around his side and he drapes his arm over her shoulder, resting his weight on her.
"Watch the ribs, Liv", he says, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. She nods and slides her arm down his waist.
"Take your time, babe", she says, guiding him into the bathroom and over to the toilet.
He fumbles with his boxers, slowly pulling it out.
"Do you need me to hold it for you, babe?" She asks seriously, looking up at the strain on his face.
"No", looking at her in disbelief as he begins to relieve himself. He closes his eyes and exhales in relief and continues to empty his bladder.
"My goodness, Fitz, you really had to go", watching closely as he continues to pee.
"I told you I had to go", he says, shaking away the last droplets before stuffing it back into its holding place. And she reaches around him to flush the toilet.
"Come on, babe. Let's get over to the sink and wash your hands."
"I hate being helpless, Liv", leaning on her as he hobbles over to the sink.
"I know. But you won't be feeling like this much longer", washing his hands then drying them.
"I don't like you having to take care of me this way – like I'm JoJo", catching his reflection in the mirror and thinking he looks like an old man.
"You are my husband. I take care of you when you're sick - no one else", she says emphatically, looking at his tired face. "In sickness and in health – remember?"
He nods as they hobble back to the bedroom. She helps him to sit on the side of the bed and he lets out a heavy sigh.
"It takes all the strength I have just to go to the bathroom, Liv", struggling to roll back into bed without injuring his ribs. "I'm completely drained of energy."
"Are you warm enough?" She asks, pulling the covers up to his chest. "Do you want another blanket?"
"I'm fine", sighing from fatigue.
"Do you want another pillow?" Reaching over to her side of the bed and grabbing one of her pillows.
"I'm fine, Liv."
"Can I get you something – a glass of water?"
He looks at her as if she has lost her mind because the last thing he wants is more water. He does not want to trek back to the bathroom anytime soon.
XXX
They have all been home from the hospital for two days and Fitz continues to spend his days in bed sleeping. His appetite is nonexistent and he is still in a lot of pain, only taking the medication when he can no longer tolerate the pain caused by his cracked ribs. The last thing he wants is to get hooked on the opiod.
When Olivia walks into the room, she sees the pain on his face. She hates seeing her usually vibrant and active husband not only in pain, but also seemingly experiencing a touch of the blues. She sits on the bed with her back against the headboard and he slowly gravitates toward her placing his head onto her lap.
"Still tired, babe?" Scraping her fingernails across his scalp because that always helps to feel better.
"Liv, I'm so tired. I still don't seem to have any energy", enjoying the feel of her fingernails on his scalp.
"You've only been home for a few days, babe. Dr. Cooper said you should expect to feel tired for a while. She says it's not unusual for someone who has had major surgery to feel tired. Don't you remember she called it surgical fatigue?"
"I hardly remember anything from that day, Liv. I just wanted to get out of that hospital and back to our home. Thank god the family was there to help us home."
"Thank god for John's huge truck, it finally came in handy. He was able to drive us all home in that thing. I can see why Cena loves it, and I can also see why Abby hates", chuckling as she reaches over to her nightstand and picks up the discharge papers.
He sighs as the corner of his mouth twitches involuntarily.
"Look - read this", pushing the discharge papers to his face.
"I don't want to read that now, Liv", he says wearily, not bothering to lift his head from her lap.
"Then I'll read it - again. It says major procedures, especially those that require several days of recovery in the hospital, can result in fatigue that lasts for an extended period of time."
"Great", he says tiredly.
"It says fatigue typically improves as the recovery period progresses."
"Well I'm not fatigued, I'm downright exhausted. I feel like an old man", he says grumpily.
"You are an old man, babe. You're my old man", patting his head playfully, and he rolls his eyes. "Babe, you have a few fractured ribs and a concussion. It's going to take time."
"How are you feeling today? How's your head?"
"Getting better every day."
"Are you sure?" Kissing her thigh. "I don't want you overdoing it."
"I'm fine, Fitz. My family is fine so I'm fine."
"Where are my girls? How are they doing today?"
"Mom is feeding them breakfast. She won't let me do a thing."
"You need your rest too, Liv."
"Babe, Cena has her first appointments next week with the physical therapist and psychologist. She has to start walking again. She can't get stuck where she is."
"I know", turning his head away from his wife. "I'll be there."
"Fitz, you might not -"
"I said I'll be there, Olivia."
"Fine", looking down at him with an arched brow.
"When does JoJo see the doctor?"
"Dr. Jordan doesn't need to see her for three more weeks. If everything looks good at that time then he'll remove the cast."
He nods, running a hand through his lop-sided hair.
"I'm going back to sleep", carefully rolling back to his side of the bed.
"Can I get you some breakfast? I'm sure Hildie has made something for you."
"I'm fine", turning on his side. "I just need to sleep."
XXX
Gwendolyn breezes into the kitchen with alacrity, wearing one of her colorful Senegalese dresses and matching head wrap and carrying Jolie in the carrier. She has spent the last hour playing wth her granddaughter in the nursery and now Jolie is hungry, as evidenced by her smacking lips.
"Good morning, Hildie", Gwendolyn says cheerfully as she sets the baby carrier onto the granite island top. "It's such a beautiful day - isn't it?"
Hildie looks up from the stove where she is preparing breakfast for the family and eyes the colorful woman, thinking Mrs. Pope is wearing a lot of fabric so early in the morning.
"Good morning, Mrs. Pope. May I get you some breakfast, ma'am?"
"No - no - not at all", waving her hand in the air dismissively as she walks over to the refrigerator. "But I will get my beautiful granddaughter her breakfast. She's beginning to get a little cranky.
"I can feed our - the baby, ma'am", Hildie quickly self-corrects, watching Mrs. Pope peer into the refrigerator.
"No, I wouldn't think it. I want to feed my grandbaby this morning. I have a lot of lost time to make up for, Hildie."
Gwendolyn hums a tune as she continues to scan the array of homemade baby food on the shelf dedicated to Jolie's foods, which are kept separate from the rest of the family's food since Dr. Jordan diagnosed her last month with several food allergies shortly after Olivia began to introduce soft foods into the baby's diet.
Still trying to decide what to feed her grandbaby this morning, Gwendolyn finally slides a few jars from the shelf then opens the freezer to retrieve a bottle of mother's milk. She sets Jolie's breakfast foods onto the counter and walks over to the overhead cabinets. Hildie frowns when she sees the items Mrs. Pope has selected for the baby's breakfast.
"She doesn't care for that peach too much, ma'am."
"Oh - okay", Gwendolyn says as she opens the overhead cabinet and pulls out a small, orange-colored bowl.
"She prefers the pink bowl, ma'am."
Gwendolyn turns around and looks at Hildie curiously and Hildie quickly turns away and resumes preparing the family's breakfast.
"Hildie, is something wrong?"
"Ma'am?" Turning away from the stove to look at Mrs. Pope who is holding the orange bowl in her hand.
"Well, you seem somewhat annoyed with me. Have I done something to offend you, Hildie?"
"Not at all, ma'am. Jolie just likes certain things", glancing again at the orange bowl in Mrs. Pope's hand.
"I see", Gwendolyn says, nodding her head slowly and thinking a five-month-old baby does not have a preference about the color of the bowl in which her food is served.
Gwendolyn scoops a couple of spoonfuls of the baby food into the bowl and opens the microwave door. She sets the bowl and four-ounce bottle of milk in the microwave and starts to close the door.
"Mrs. Grant prefers to heat the baby's food on top of the stove - ma'am", Hildie says, wiping her hands onto the kitchen towel.
Frowning in frustration, Gwendolyn nods as she removes the items from the microwave and sets the back onto the counter. She opens and closes cabinet doors trying to find a pot in which to warm Jolie's food.
"The small sauce pan we use to warm the baby's food is in that cabinet", Hildie says, pointing to one of the bottom cabinets.
Gwendolyn bends down and pulls out the first pot she sees, a large aluminum pot, and sets it into the copper farmhouse sink. She glances over at Hildie before turning on the faucet and filling the pot with a few inches of water. As she sets the pot on top of the stove, her husband enters the kitchen carrying Cena on his hip. Hildie glances over at the oversized pot, then at the man who is wearing as much fabric as wife.
"Gwennie, the weather these past few days has been just magnificent. We weren't afforded this kind of weather in November when we lived here. Good morning, Hildie", he says in his usual chipper tone.
"Good morning, Mr. Pope, sir."
"Cena and I had a wonderful morning stroll. Right, Cena?" Smiling proudly at his beautiful granddaughter.
"Right, GranPop", Cena says happily.
Jolie is hungry and tired of waiting for her breakfast so she makes her displeasure known by crying, kicking her feet, and flailing her arms. Hildie looks in the direction of the carrier.
"How is my Cena doing this morning? Did you enjoy your walk with GranPop?" Gwendolyn asks, pecking the little girl on both cheeks before sitting at the island to feed Jolie.
"Nana, we saw Rufus. He run so fast."
"And who on earth is Rufus?" Gwennie asks, slowly stirring the mixture in the baby bowl as Jolie's cries get louder.
"He's a white dog. He's pretty, Nana", Cena says as Calvin sets her onto the stool at the island.
"I'm sure your grandfather wasn't too impressed by Rufus", slipping the rubber baby spoon into Jolie's mouth.
"May I get you some breakfast this morning, Mr. Pope?" Hildie asks as she sets the plate of pancakes and small glass of milk in front of the little girl.
"Thank you", Cena says before grabbing the glass of milk.
"Nothing for me, Hildie. Coffee and toast is the most Gwennie and I ever eat for breakfast", pecking his wife on the cheek.
"And Hildie", please call us Calvin and Gwendolyn. There is no need for formalities."
"Yes, ma'am", Hildie says in her usual flat tone as she pours syrup onto Cena's pancakes. The Popes strange ways make her nervous.
"Would you like a cup of coffee, dear?" Calvin asks his wife as he walks over to the coffee maker.
"Yes, please", lifting Jolie from the carrier to now feed her the bottle of milk.
"Is the bottle cool enough, ma'am?"
"Of course it is, Hildie", Gwendolyn says with indignation. "I wouldn't give my granddaughter milk that is too hot."
Hearing the annoyance in his wife's voice, Calvin leans against the counter, darting his eyes back and forth between the two women. He wonders what is going on with his wife and Hildie as he brings the mug to his lips. As Olivia enters the kitchen she smiles when she hears her baby girl let out a loud burp and Cena laughing hysterically, the way she does whenever her baby sister expels excess air of any kind.
"JoJo burp, GranPop", Cena says giggling and her eyes shining brightly.
"She did", Olivia says, walking over and kissing her giggling daughter on the top of her head. She is happy to hear Cena is laughing again.
"How's my Cena doing this morning?" Looking into her eyes for any signs of sadness.
"Mommy, GranPop and I saw Rufus."
"You did?" Glancing over at her father who is rolling his eyes.
"Rufus run fast, mommy. GranPop couldn't catch him."
"I'm sure he couldn't", Gwendolyn mumbles, rocking a sleeping Jolie.
"Good morning, Hildie", Olivia says, as she passes the housekeeper on her way to the coffee maker.
"Good morning, Mrs. Grant. May I get you some breakfast?"
"Yes, the usual please", pulling her mug from the cabinet.
Her parents look at each other wondering when their daughter got to the place where she can no longer prepare her own food.
"How are you feeling this morning, Livvia? Any headache or dizziness?"
"Not yet, mom. I'm actually feeling fine so far."
"Well, be careful, Livvia. You don't want to have a setback. A concussion is tricky business", Calvin says.
"I will, dad."
"Livvia, you should try some of this Café' Touba", holding up his mug. "I bought some back for you and Fitzgerald. I know how much your husband loves a good cup of coffee."
"No thank you, dad", waving her hand. "That stuff is too spicy – too strong for me", she says, sitting next to her daughter who is happily enjoying her pancakes.
"And how is Fitzgerald doing this morning? Gwendolyn asks.
"He's tired, mom - exhausted really."
"Well that's to be expected after everything that man has endured."
"Are you finished your breakfast, sweetheart?" Olivia asks Cena, who is draining the last of her milk from the glass.
"Yes, mommy", see says, letting out a loud burp, which results in another fit of giggling.
"It seems like Jolie isn't the only one who is full of air this morniing", Calvin quips as Hildie sets Olivia's plate in front of her.
"Thank you, Hildie. Can you take Cena upstairs now for her bath?"
"Of course, ma'am. Will Mr. Grant be wanting breakfast this morning, ma'am?"
"Not this morning, Hildie. Thank you."
Hildie lifts Cena from her seat and the little girl waves good-bye to her mother and grandparents.
"Have a good bath, Cena", Gwendolyn says as Hildie walks from the kitchen.
"I'm sorry, Livvia, I wasn't thinking."
"That's all right, mom. I just don't want Cena to think something is seriously wrong with Fitz. I don't want her to get upset – under the circumstances."
Gwendolyn nods as she looks down at a sleeping Jolie.
"When is Cena's appointment? I don't like seeing her like this", Calvin says. "We have to get her walking again as soon as possible."
"Next week, dad. Fitz is insisting on going with us."
"Do I need to go up and help him get into the shower this morning?"
"No - thanks dad. He's sleeping right now. He says he feels like an old man."
"Well I'm an old man and I don't feel like an old man", Calvin says with a huge smile.
"You didn't have a truck sitting on your chest either, dear."
"He's just going to need more time. He'll be fine. Fitzgerald is a strong man."
Olivia nods as she eats a forkful of Hildie's wonderful scrambled eggs.
"Livvia, what is this business we've been hearing about Marla? Calvin asks as he pours another cup of coffee.
"I'm am so sorry Marla has had a stroke. I must go see her before we return to Senegal", Gwendolyn says, and Olivia rubs the back of her neck because she does not want to think about her parents going back to Senegal.
"It's hard to believe that Marla was involved in any kind of criminal behavior, dad. Frankly, I didn't want to believe it when I first heard about it."
"The Marla I know would never be involved in any kind of criminal activity", Gwendolyn says, still rocking Jolie.
"People do all kinds of things when they are in a difficult situation, including embezzling."
"Embezzling?" Calvin says in shock.
"Yes, although she had a reason for what she did - it's still a crime."
"And what reason could she possible have for stealing money from the city—for all these years?"
"Mom, some people will do anything to protect their children."
"What do you mean, Marla doesn't have any children?"
"Mom, Marla has a daughter."
"A daughter?" Gwendolyn shrieks and stops rocking Jolie.
For the next hour Olivia tells her parents everything about the scandal and what she knows about Marla's daughter.
"I'm sure Marla couldn't pull off this scheme without assistance", Gwendolyn says, still in disbelief.
"Mayor Wilson has recently been indicted on corruption charges, mom. But he denies having any involvement in Marla's embezzlement scheme."
"Well, Marla's indiscretions opened the door for Fitzgerald to have a political career", Calvin says, taking another sip of Café Touba.
"Actually dad, local legislators approached Fitz about running for council president after Marla's stroke - before the scandal ever became public."
"I guess I'll start setting up our little classroom", Gwendolyn says, shaking her head as she places Jolie into the carrier.
"Mom, I really appreciate you helping Cena with her studies until she can go back to school. You and dad have been such a big help to us.
"I love teaching, Livvia, and I love teaching my granddaughter even more."
XXX
Over the next few days Olivia's headaches and dizziness begin to subside significantly and she has begun to regain more energy. And, under the watchful supervision of her mother and father, she gradually starts to do more to help take care of her family. Tonight is the first time since they returned home she has felt like playing a game with Cena. Although she is feeling better, she is not sure when she will return to work since so much depends on how quickly Fitz and Cena recover. Thank goodness for Mona.
After enjoying one of Hildie's wonderful dinners with her parents and the girls, and playing her final game with Cena and Calvin, Olivia climbs the long staircase to check on her husband. As she looks around the room she thinks how much their high-end, contemporary bedroom now resembles that of a hospital room, with brown bottles of pills lined across Fitz' nightstand along with his spirometer and a melting ice pack. She walks over and begins to straighten the items on the nightstand.
"Have you used your spirometer today, babe?"
He shakes his head no.
"Fitz, that's the only way your lung is going to get healthy", lifting the breathing device from the nightstand. "You have to use it every few hours, babe", sitting on the side of the bed next to him and he groans.
"Open", placing the mouthpiece into his mouth. "Breath out", and the ball jiggles a bit at the bottom of the chamber. "Now breathe in - slowly. You have to practice more, babe, the chamber is barely moving. You have to do this every few hours. I'm going to set a timer for you."
"It still hurts, Liv."
"I know, but it's going to hurt for a little while", reaching over and grabbing her pillow. "Hold this against your ribs so it doesn't hurt too much."
He nods, holding the pillow against his side as he breathes in and out of the spirometer.
"Is that better?" Caressing the side of his face.
He nods again.
"Keep practicing while I go get the girls. They want to say good night before going to bed tonight."
He breathes out and in the device a few times until he hears Olivia and her mother returning with his daughters. Quickly, he stashes the breathing device under the covers and sits up against the headboard.
"Daddy", Cena screams as Olivia carries her into the room.
"Hey, Princess", he smiles weakly.
"Daddy, I play a game with GranPop and he gave me a bath, too."
"That's nice, sweetheart. Did you win?"
"I did", nodding her head up and down and smiling in victory.
"Give daddy a good night kiss", Olivia says, and Cena tries to wiggle out of her mother's arms to climb onto her father's lap.
"Just a good night kiss, baby", and Cena pouts because she wants her father to hold her.
"I'll hold you tomorrow, Princess. Okay?"
"OK, daddy", nodding her head with a smile.
"Fitzgerald", Gwendolyn says, carrying Jolie over to her son-in-law. "How are you feeling this evening?" Looking sympathetically at her pale son-in-law.
"I'm getting better, Gwendolyn", he says as his mother-in-law leans Jolie in so he can give his baby girl a good-night kiss.
"Good night, Angel", pecking the baby on her drool-covered lips.
"All right, time for bed. Say good night, Cena", Olivia says.
"Night - night, daddy."
"Good night, Princess. Daddy will see you in the morning. Okay?"
"OK, daddy."
"Good night, Fitzgerald."
"Have a good night, Gwendolyn."
Once everyone has left the room, he falls back against the upholstered headboard, breathing slowly with open mouth. The brief encounter with his children has exhausted him. He feels like an old man.
"Babe", Olivia says with a smile in her voice as she re-enters the bedroom, pushing up her sweater sleeves. "One benefit of you being laid up is you don't have to read Goodnight Moon. Dad is stuck with the task of reading it to Cee – and he's enjoying it", she says as she sits on her side of the bed. She frowns immediately when her butt comes in contact with the hard plastic breathing device.
"What is this doing under the covers?" Holding up the spirometer and looking at him curiously.
"I don't want to appear weak, Liv."
"Well you are weak - you're recovering from a horrible accident and surgery. Your body is trying to heal", handing him the device.
"I don't want my children to think I'm not capable of taking care of them."
"What are you talking about?" Taking his hand into hers. "JoJo doesn't know what's going on and Cena loves you more than anything. You'll always be her hero - wear the S on your chest."
"Cena looks up to me because she knows that no matter what happens, I will always take care of her. But I didn't protect her, Liv. I didn't protect any of you. And I damn sure am not looking much like a superhero these days."
"Stop it, Fitz", she admonishes him. "One", looking into his sad eyes and holding up her index finger. "Cena looks up to you because you're her father and she loves you very much. "Two", holding up another finger. "The accident is not your fault. You can't protect us from a drunk driver. And three", holding up a third finger. "You're getting out of this bed tomorrow", handing him another pain pill and stool softener.
He glares at her, tosses the two pills into his mouth, and washes them down with the glass of water she is handing him.
"Don't give me that look. It'll be four days tomorrow since you were discharged from the hospital. It's time to get up. You're coming downstairs in the morning for one of Hildie's famous breakfasts. I've been craving her cinnamon rolls, but you know she only bakes them for you. So, you're getting up tomorrow."
XXX
"Fitzgerald, I am so happy you were able to make it down for breakfast this morning", Gwendolyn says happily as she stirs the mixture in the pot on top of the stove.
"I haven't had much of an appetite lately, Gwendolyn", plopping onto the stool next to his daughter.
"Good morning, Princess", kissing Cena on the cheek.
"Good morning, daddy."
"Are you ready for breakfast?" He asks and she nods her head up and down.
"So am I", he says, not feeling too tired this morning.
"Fitzgerald, I've prepared a traditional Senegalese breakfast for us", Gwendolyn announces proudly and Fitz looks over at his wife with wide eyes.
"Calvin, slice those boiled eggs, please", Gwendolyn directs.
"Surely", Calvin says in his chipper voice, moving quickly over to the chopping board to slice the eggs.
"What are you preparing, mom?" Looking at her husband's panic-stricken face.
"You are all going to love it", scooping the bean mixture from the pot and spreading it onto the baguette that is split down the middle. "Pass me the sliced eggs, Calvin", she says, cutting another bean-filled roll in half for Cena.
"Here you go, Fitzgerald", Gwendolyn says, smiling brightly as she sets the plate on the island top in front of him. "And this one is for you Cena."
Cena looks at the bean-filled roll topped with sliced boiled eggs and pokes out her bottom lip.
"That's not panny cakes, Nana", staring at the mystery on her plate.
"No it's not, Cena. This is what little girls in Senegal eat for breakfast."
Fitz frowns at his breakfast sandwich too, wondering where the hell is Hildie. He has an appetite this morning and was really looking forward to eating one of her famous breakfasts and cinnamon rolls. He glances over at his wife to save him and his daughter from having to eat the mystery on a roll.
"Café Touba, Fitzgerald?" Calvin asks, holding up a mug. "I know how much you love a good cup of coffee so I tossed some in my bag when we left Senegal."
"Mom – dad", Olivia interjects. "I'm afraid Fitz cannot eat such a rich meal this morning. The doctor wants him to eat light meals until he is fully recovered. I'll just scramble him a few eggs and make some toast", beginning to stand from her seat.
"Oh – of course. I wasn't thinking. I'll just save this bean sandwich for another time."
"Thank you, Gwendolyn", Fitz says weakly.
"Sit down, Livvia. I'll fix Fitzgerald's breakfast."
Fitz glances over at his wife again because she has told him many times that her mother cannot cook. Gwendolyn Pope's lack of cooking skills is what prompted Olivia to learn how to cook at any early age.
"And mom, Cena will just have cereal. She is not used to eating so much food in the mornings. I don't want her to get an upset stomach."
"Oh - of course. Then you can eat it, Livvia. I'm sure you're going to love it."
"Yeah, Liv, why don't you eat it? I'm sure you're going to love it", Fitz says with a smirk.
"Eat up Livvia while I scramble Fitzgerald's eggs."
"And I'll get my granddaughter her cereal", Calvin says, smiling broadly as he sets the mug of spicy coffee in front of Fitz.
"Thanks, dad", she says, darting her eyes between the sandwich and her grinning husband.
XXX
Later that night Calvin and Cena are sitting on the floor in the family playing a game he has let her win the last two rounds because that is what grandparents do. Olivia is sitting on the sofa next to her husband helping him search for a new car on her tablet. He is trying to spend less time in bed and more time downstairs with his family. Gwendolyn sits in the plush chair across from the sofa humming softly as she flips through the most recent issue of Bon Appetit magazine. With each flip of a page, the little brass charms on her leather bracelet jingle, breaking the silence in the room.
"Oh my", she exclaims, looking down at the magazine in excitement. Everyone looks over at the woman, wondering what has her so excited.
"What is it, dear?" Calvin asks looking up from the board game.
"Calvin, you won't believe what I just came across in this food magazine", smiling as she continues to stare at the page. "I just found a recipe for poulet yassa. Livvia, this was the first Senegalese dish your father and I had when we arrived in Dakar."
"Magnificent. Chicken, onions, lemons ..." Calvin says.
"I must make this for our dinner tomorrow night", Gwendolyn says with enthusiasm, and Fitz and Cena look at Olivia with wide eyes. Neither can take another one of the women's well-intentioned attempts at cooking. They miss Hildie's cooking.
"Fitzgerald, Livvia has told me you've become quite the chef", Gwendolyn says, looking at the list of ingredients need to prepare the dish.
"I'm afraid I haven't had a lot of time to do much cooking lately, Gwendolyn."
"We'll have to prepare a meal together when you're back on your feet", still staring at the magazine. "You're really going to appreciate this dish, Fitzgerald. Since we've been living in Senegal I've been trying my hand at preparing some of their traditional dishes. While I'll be the first to admit that I was never fond of cooking when Livvia was young, I seem to have gotten pretty good at making these new dishes. Isn't that right, Calvin?"
"We'll go to the Senegalese grocery store in the city tomorrow, dear", Calvin says. "From what I remember the supermarkets in Church Falls have a limited international foods section. I doubt if much has changed since we lived here."
"We'll leave after breakfast", Gwendolyn says excitedly, flipping the page in the magazine.
Fitz squeezes his wife's hand gently, encouraging her to stop her mother from planning another meal. He cannot tolerate her cooking any longer.
"Mom ..." Olivia says cautiously.
"Yes, Livvia", looking up from the magazine serenely.
"Mom, you don't have to worry about cooking for us while you're here. You and dad are helping us out so much with girls – you don't need to cook our meals, too. That's why we have Hildie."
"Well, Livvia, I'm sure Hildie wouldn't mind having a little break while we're here."
Fitz and Cena continue to look at Olivia.
"But mom – Hildie gets somewhat anxious when someone usurps her territory."
"You're telling me. She seemed somewhat annoyed when I was preparing my grandbaby's breakfast."
"Well it is her job, mom."
"And this is your house – your kitchen – and I plan to use it a little while we're here."
Fitz squeezes his wife's hand again because she does not seem to be getting through to her mother.
"It's your turn, Cena", Calvin says to the little girl who is staring at her mother with wide eyes.
"Mom", Olivia starts again slowly. "While I – we", wagging her finger back and forth between her and Fitz. "While we appreciate you wanting to share some of the wonderful dishes of Senegal with us, we – I find them to be – to be", searching for the right words.
"To be what, dear?" Looking up from the magazine with a curious look on her face.
"Well, the dishes are too rich."
"Rich? What are you talking about, Livvia?"
"We're just not used to eating so many carbs mom – especially for breakfast. And", she continues quickly, "Fitz is still recuperating and his stomach is unable to handle the new dishes."
"I see", Gwendolyn says with disappointment. "Well, I'll just make enough for you and Cena and your father and me."
Fitz squeezes Olivia's hand one more time because he has to save Cena from the fate of having to eat another one of Gwendolyn Pope's meals. It is not they do not think Senegalese cuisine could be quite delicious, but Gwendolyn Pope has never been a good cook of any kind of food – American or Senegalese.
"Mom, just let Hildie do the cooking. She's very good at it."
With a look of puzzlement on her face, Gwendolyn is trying to understand why her daughter seems to be resistant to enjoying a traditional Senegalese dinner. Tension is in the air because the adults are uncomfortable by the exchange between mother and daughter. Finally, Gwendolyn realizes why Olivia does not want her to prepare the meal.
"Oh – I see. I understand", nodding slowly as she glares at her daughter. "Well, I'm sure Hildie will be able to prepare you all a wonderful dinner tomorrow night", standing from her seat and tossing the magazine onto the table.
"Mom -"
"I must be going to bed now."
"Mom, don't be upset. It's just –"
"I'm not upset, Livvia" waving her hand and causing the brass charms to jingle. "I just need to get to bed early because your father and I have to be at Triumph Tabernacle early in the morning. We promised Rev. Walker we would help out at the church while we're in town."
"Mom –"
"Unless you need your father and me to be here when the Chief of Police arrives tomorow?"
"No, mom, we'll be fine", Olivia says sadly, knowing she has hurt her mother's feelings. She hates disappointing her mother.
"Good night, Livia – Fitzgerald."
"Good night, Gwendolyn", Fitz finally speaks.
"Give Nana a kiss good night, Cena", bending down to kiss her granddaughter.
"Are you coming to bed now, Calvin?" She asks tersely.
"I'll be in shortly, dear. After I finish this last game with Cena."
When Calvin is sure his wife is in their bedroom, he turns to his daughter with the biggest smile on his face.
"Thank you, Livvia, for sparing us all from another one of your mother's creations. Senegalese food is quite wonderful, mind you, if it's prepared by skilled hands. You know your mother has never been proficient in the kitchen", and the adults all burst out laughing.
"Dad, why didn't you say something?"
"Happy wife, happy life. Right, Fitzgerald?"
XXX
Andrew Schuller worked for the Philadelphia Police Department for 17 years, a patrolman for five years and a detective for another 12 years, and during that time he has seen almost everything imaginable on those mean streets. He had almost become numb to the violence he encountered daily. But on one July afternoon all of that changed when he witnessed a mentally disturbed mother toss her newborn baby from the window of her fifth floor apartment on Berks Street. Seeing the innocent baby splattered across the sweltering sidewalk rattled everyone standing around the horrific scene, including him. As his partner covered the tiny body with the black tarp, he knew in that moment it was time to leave the city. He no longer wanted to witness this kind of ugliness again, nor did he want his wife and daughter to experience the other negative things the city had to offer. Wanting to protect them from the drugs, the gangs, and the bad schools, he decided to move to rural Washington State where his wife Karen was born and all of her family still live. So, when he learned the Chief of Police in his wife's hometown was retiring, he decided to apply for the job. And three months later he was moving his family to the great state of Washington, where they have lived for the past four years.
For the most part, life is easy in the small rural town and, as the town's top law enforcer, he does not have to worry much about the violence that comes with living in a major metropolitan city. However, he can see that is slowly changing. Rural towns have their problems too. Although there is no gun violence up here, which is ironic since there are lots and lots of guns in this part of the state. Almost everyone owns multiple firearms. And the unemployment rate is high and the use of opioids is even higher, which is contributing to the rise in petty theft cases. Two-bit junkies often burgle cars and homes to steal money and goods to buy their drugs.
Crime apparently has no boundaries, there really is no escaping it. He knows it is just a matter of time before violent crimes committed using guns will soon become a problem for him. People, drugs, and drugs are a deadly combination.
XXX
As the chief settles in the wide leather seat for the 200-mile drive to Church Falls, he lights his cigar and reflects on the day he received the call that another accident had occurred at one of the narrow tunnels off Interstate 80. He was home with his family celebrating his daughter's sixth birthday when his rookie patrolman called to report he was on the site of the most horrific scene of his brief career in law enforcement.
Although Schuller has seen a lot as a policeman in Philly, he was still shaken by the sight of the family in the crumpled BMW. Perhaps because the little girl, who he later learned name is Cena, reminded him of his little Tiffany. Or maybe it was because the vacation-bound family reminded him he needed to taken Karen and Tiffany on vacation, something he has not done since moving here. Whatever the reason, he quickly became obsessed with trying to untangle the mystery of what happened on top of the mountain on a beautiful day in November.
His initial examination of the accident site made him uneasy because things just were not adding up. While there have been several accidents in the old tunnels, there was something peculiar about this particular accident. The whole scene was odd, that is the only way he could describe what he saw, odd. A tenacious investigator with the innate ability to piece together arcane clues to solve a crime, he spent countless hours, to the chagrin of his wife, studying the pictures taken at the accident and the bags of evidence he and Patrolman Jefferson collected.
Once Schuller pieced together the evidence and determined what happened outside of the tunnel, he waited two weeks after the Grant family was discharged from the hospital before contacting the couple and requesting a meeting. He needed them to know what actually happened. While he thought it was important to provide the Grants with answers, he also wanted to allow the family to time to heal - physically and emotionally.
XXX
As he rolls his truck up the long driveway leading to the large colonial-style house, Schuller admires the beautiful structure and landscaping. So this is how the famous negotiator turned politician lives he thinks as he parks next to the white Audi Q5 SUV. Schuller grabs his hat and the three large plastic evidence bags from the passenger seat and slides out of the truck. It is time to update the Grants on the results of his investigation.
Fitz and Olivia sit on the sofa in silence, holding hands as they wait for Chief Schuller to arrive. They were both surprised when the chief called asking to meet with them to discuss the accident. They were beginning to move on, trying to put their lives back together after the events of that horrible day. Olivia has recovered from her concussion. Fitz is regaining his strength and his collapsed lung is healed. Although he is still experiencing pain from his fractured ribs, he is doing much better. Both he and Cena have doctors' appointments later in the week. And Jolie, well she is fascinated by the pink cast and tries everything within her power to rip it off.
They both stiffen when they hear the doorbell ring, trying to steel themselves for whatever the chief has to tell them. When the door opens, Schuller looks at the middle-aged woman whose gray-streaked hair is pulled back into a tight bun. He smiles slightly at her stern face but she does not reciprocate. He thinks it must be nice to have a housekeeper and pit bull all wrapped into one.
"Good morning", tipping his hat. "I'm Chief Andrew Schuller. I have an appointment with Mr. and Mrs. Grant."
"Come in, sir", Hildie says in her monotone voice, dropping her hand from the doorknob and stepping aside to allow the man to enter the foyer. Schuller glances quickly around the space thinking it must be nice to have money.
"Follow me, sir", Hildie says, turning and walking down the long hall to the living room.
Schuller removes his hat and follows the woman down the hall, glancing up at the massive two-story staircase.
"Chief Schuller has arrived", Hildie announces to Fitz and Olivia as she stands in the doorway of the living room with the visitor. Olivia and Fitz both stand from the sofa with nervous smiles to greet the chief.
"Chief Schuller", Fitz says, walking over and extending a handshake.
"Mr. Grant", the chief returns the salutation with a slight smile.
"Come in chief – have a seat. And call me Fitz - please."
Fitz guides the man into the room where Olivia is standing, nervously wringing her hands and wishing she had taken her parents up on their offer to stay home with them for this meeting.
"This is my wife, Olivia Grant", Fitz says, draping an arm around Olivia's shoulders.
"It is so good to meet you Chief Schuller", Olivia smiles as she shakes his hand. "We can finally thank you in person for everything you and your department did for our family", tears welling in her eyes as she continues to hold onto his hand. "The entire community was beyond wonderful to us."
"You're quite welcome, Mrs. Grant. Everybody just wanted the best for you and your family", he says, smiling politely at the woman who is obviously nervous.
"Call me Olivia, please", she says, wiping a tear from under her eye.
"And I'm Andrew. I only require my patrolmen to call me chief", he chuckles, trying to ease the tension.
"Have a seat, Andrew", Fitz says, motioning his hand toward the sofa and wondering what is in those plastic bags the man is holding.
The chief sits onto the sofa and immediately feels the difference between the sofa's plump cushions and the ones he usually reclines on at home in their small den.
"May I?" Seeking permission to set the plastic bags onto the coffee table.
"Of course", Olivia says, eyeing the bags as Hildie enters the room carrying the coffee service set.
"Coffee, sir?" Hildie asks, looking at the chief as she sets the tray onto the table.
"Yes, thank you. It's been a long drive this morning", setting his hat onto the sofa.
After pouring coffee for everyone, Hildie deftly slides the man's hat from the sofa and walks it to the foyer closet.
"Thank you for traveling all this way to update us on your findings", Olivia says nervously. "But I'm not sure what more can be said about a person getting behind the wheel of a car after having too many drinks."
"Well, I wanted to give you all some time to recuperate before I made the trip down here. You two look well. How are your daughters doing?"
"Jolie, our baby, has a fractured wrist."
"I'm so sorry."
"She's wearing a cast for now but she is going to be fine."
"That's good to hear. That doctor on the scene took really good care of her."
Olivia smiles, fighting back the tears again, and Fitz gives her hand a gentle squeeze.
"And Cena, our five-year-old, well, she's going to be just fine in time. She's going to need some therapies – but she'll be fine", nodding her head to punctuate the sentence.
"That's good", the chief says, glancing over at her silent husband whose body sudenly stiffened.
Fitz eyes the chief closely because he knows the man did not drive 200 miles early this morning just to update them about an accident that happened weeks ago. He could have delivered whatever information he has by telephone, so there is more to this visit Fitz thinks to himself as Hildie returns with a plate of her famous miniature cinnamon rolls, hot from the oven. The chief smiles unknowingly because the pastry looks and smells wonderful.
"Hildie is famous for her homemade cinnamon rolls, chief. Please help yourself, but I should warn you they are quite addictive", Olivia says with a smile.
"Thank you. I don't mind if I do", sliding a roll from the plate and taking a bite. He closes his eyes as the pastry melts in his mouth. "This is absolutely wonderful", quickly taking another bite.
Hildie smiles to herself as she walks back to the kitchen. Olivia and Fitz smile, watching the chief take a sip of coffee.
"I told you", Olivia says. "Hildie only bakes those rolls for Fitz", sliding her hand onto her husband's crossed leg.
"Well, I am truly honored", looking over at the man who is wound as tight as a drum. "But you must promise not to say a word about this to my wife. She sort of considers herself an amateur baker."
"Your secret is safe with us", Olivia says with a smile.
Now that the pleasantries have come to an end, the chief knows it is time to get on with what brought him to Church Falls this Wednesday morning.
"I have a few items I was able to salvage from the accident site", wiping his mouth and hands on the linen napkin before reaching for one of the plastic bags he set on the coffee table. "Here are your cell phones", handing Olivia the bag. "I'm sure they need to be charged after all of this time."
"Thank you, Andrew", Olivia says quietly, setting the plastic bag onto her lap. Seeing their phones in what appears to be a police evidence bag brings back the memories of that day and her breathing becomes uneven as the chief reaches for the second plastic bag.
"I found this in the car. It was a bit mangled but I was able to fix it. My Tiffany has one just like it and she just loves the thing. I thought your little girl would want it back", handing the bag to Fitz.
Eyes brimming with tears, Fitz reaches for the bag containing the silver, gemstone-encrusted tiara and twirls it between his fingers, remembering the day he and Cena left dance class and stopped into the children's store two doors away to buy the sunglasses she liked so much. He remembers the morning of the start of their vacation when he surprised her with the tiara and placed it onto her head after helping to dress her. He remembers her smiling brightly in the back seat of the car when she announced she was a real princess. Olivia squeezes his thigh.
"Thank you", he mumbles softly, continuing to stare at the tiny crown.
Schuller reaches for the last plastic bag on the coffee table thinking about the words he has practiced over last few weeks for this moment. After reading the stunning contents of the book, he knew he needed to find the right words to explain to the couple why they almost lost their lives in a remote part of the state. He inhales deeply and slowly slides the stained leatherback book from the bag, and Olivia and Fitz frown immediately from the stench of stale alcohol. Schuller looks down at the book for a moment, then back at the couple who are staring at him with confusion in their eyes. He knows they have no clue about what he is about to reveal to them, and he does not know if the information he is about to share will help them to put the tragedy behind them or if it will send them spiraling down into a different kind of hell. He clears his throat and takes a sip of coffee before beginning.
"Fitz – Olivia – this here is a manifesto — well it's more like a diary of a mad man", he says, bouncing the book in his hands. "It was found at the accident scene – inside the truck that plowed into your car."
Fitz and Olivia stare at the man with blank looks on their faces. They have no idea why the chief is showing them a stained and tattered book that reeks of alcohol.
"This diary belongs to a Charles Barber", the chief says carefully, watching for their reaction.
Olivia gasps, moving her hand from her husband's thigh and bringing it to her chest. Fitz' eyes widen and stands abruptly from the sofa, bumping into the coffee table and nearly toppling over the coffee service. He has made the connection between the accident and Charlie, and Schuller knows it. Olivia looks in surprise as her husband walks across the room and resting his forearms on the mantle as he looks down at the floor shaking his head in disbelief. Olivia crinkles her brow because her husband's tense body advertises his anger and inner turmoil.
"Fitz?" Seeing he has turned a deep shade of red.
"I don't know how much either of you know about Charlie Barber's past, but he was a mentally disturbed man."
"Was?" Olivia asks nervously.
"Mrs. Grant – Olivia", the chief says, trying to get her attention, and she slowly turns away from her husband and looks at the chief. "Charlie Barber was the driver of the truck that plowed into your family. He was ejected from his truck on impact and expired at the scene."
"Oh my god", Olivia shrieks, bringing a hand to her lips and looking back at her husband who is still staring down at the floor.
"The crash was not caused by an alcohol-impaired driver – it was an intentional act planned and plotted by a deeply disturbed man - as outlined in his diary."
"This makes no sense", she finally mutters. "Charlie was many things – but attempted murder?"
"Charlie Barber has held a vendetta against you and your husband for quite some time, Olivia."
Olivia's heart pounds and she is finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. Fitz looks up and turns to face the chief.
"What?" He says in anger.
"As he wrote in this diary, his deep dislike for you – both of you - started well over eight years ago when you two started dating."
Fitz furrows his brow and listens intently as the chief describes his nemesis' visceral hate for them and the diabolical plan he created to destroy their entire family. Olivia sits stunned, frozen in place, as the chief runs down Charlie Barber's timeline of hate.
"He apparently has been obsessed with you for some time, Olivia. He documented every interaction he had with you over the past eight years", Schuller says, still holding onto the diary.
"I don't believe this."
"And his infatuation with you only escalated over the years. All of these color sticky things indicate an event on the man's timeline", pointing to the pages he has flagged in the diary.
Fitz walks back over to the sofa, sits next to his wife, and takes her trembling hand in his as the chief flips to the first page with the green sticky flag.
"When Barber discovered you were dating Mr. Grant, he became livid. That was actually the start of his hate for you, Fitz. For quite some time he held out hope that one day the two of you would be together, Olivia." Her eyes widen as Schuller flips to another page with the blue sticky flag.
"You run a foundation, correct, Olivia?"
"I do - the Olivia Pope Foundation. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Mr. Barber's hate escalated more when you did not award him the contract for a plumbing job. He apparently really needed that contract to pay his bills."
"The Springfield Heights project", she says softly, half to herself.
"And you had a fight with Barber shortly after that, is that correct, Fitz?" Olivia and Fitz look at each other and Fitz nods.
"He threatened my wife."
"Well he vowed to pay you back for that fight and for destroying many of the things in his apartment he valued."
"I should have killed him when I had the chance", Fitz growls.
"Fitz", Olivia admonishes.
"And that would have been the worst mistake of your life", Schuller says, flipping to the page with the orange sticky flag. "Barber apparently retaliated for not getting the contract and for the fight."
"Retaliated?" Olivia questions, looking at her fuming husband.
"He wrote in detail how he broke into your foundation and damaged a sprinkler head in the conference room - causing your office to flood."
"Oh my god", she exclaims, standing from the sofa and starting to pace around the room. "And all of this time we thought a faulty sprinkler head caused all of that damage."
Fitz runs his fingers through his head, thinking this is all his fault, and Schuller flips to the page with the pink sticky.
"As I said Olivia, Barber always hoped you and he would one day be together as a couple", looking over at Fitz who looks as if he is about to implode.
"But there was never anything between us", she protests, more for her husband's sake than Schuller's.
"He apparently thought he should have been the father of your children. And with each pregnancy he became more deranged."
"That bastard", Fitz mutters.
"Fitz, this was a sick man. His anger finally went over the top when he performed poorly at the debate and ultimately lost the election. For Mr. Barber, everything - his whole life -hinged on winning that election."
Fitz looks over at the man curiously.
"Charlie Barber was broke. With two failed businesses he was on the verge of losing everything, including that fancy condo, which was at the top of the list. The people supporting his candidacy had been paying all of his expenses until he lost the election. That's when all of the money stopped. No one would return his phone calls – not even Mayor Wilson.
"This is so damn bizarre", Fitz says.
"So when Mr. Barber got behind the wheel of his truck on that Friday morning, he was a broken man and an out-of-control man who was bent on seeking revenge on the people he blamed for everything that was wrong in his miserable life."
"It's all my fault", Fitz mumbles again.
"Fitz -"
"I should have seen it coming. I should have known he would try something like this."
"This is not your fault, babe", walking over to her husband and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Fitz, your wife is right. Charles Barber was a sick and twisted man long before either of your paths crossed his. He was apparently abused and emotionally abandoned by his mother at an early age – around six or seven. After spending several years in the foster care system he moved in with his elderly grandmother in the Tilghman housing project."
Olivia shakes her head because she knew nothing about Charlie's background.
"And when he met you, Olivia, well you were everything he dreamed of in a wife. He thought you could legitimize him."
Olivia frowns because she had no idea Charlie had these kinds of feelings for her.
"You came from a good family, college educated, owned your own business, and was community focused. You were the perfect package, if you will. You were everything he wasn't. And he hoped if he were with you – if he could marry you -then you would somehow rub off onto him." Schuller glances over at Fitz again before continuing.
"Fitz, you had no control over Charlie Barber's actions the day of the crash. But you had control when it mattered", and Fitz looks at the man curiously.
"You saved your family on that mountain, Fitz. "If you hadn't acted as quickly as you did – veering your car into the side of that mountain - well let's just say things might've turned out a whole lot differently."
Olivia nods in agreement.
"The man responsible for all of this is gone – forever. Put him behind you and be thankful for your beautiful family - and home", sweeping his eyes quickly around the room.
Fitz nods with lips pressed into a thin line and his brow furrowed.
"I guess I'd better get going", picking up the diary from the coffee table and stuffing it back into the plastic bag. "My little one likes for her daddy to be home every night for dinner", sliding his thumb and index finger across the top of the plastic bag to seal the contents.
Fitz gives the chief a weak smile of understanding.
"Thank you, Andrew, for coming all this way to give us this information."
"Yes, thank you, Andrew", Olivia says, sitting on the arm of the sofa next to her husband.
"Not a problem. I wanted to personally tell you everything - you deserved to know. Take care, Olivia", shaking her hand and Jolie begins to cry from upstairs in the nursery.
"Thank you again, Andrew, and have a safe trip home. I must get to our daughter."
"Of course."
Schuller smiles politely as he watches the woman leave the room to attend to her infant daughter. Recognizing the look of guilt on Fitz' face, he walks over to the man and gives him a few parting words.
"As a man who loves his family the way you obviously love your family, I can and will do anything to protect them. But sometimes things are just beyond our control. Don't let that asshole destroy you, Fitz. Don't let him win."
Fitz looks at the man for a while then nods.
"Thank you for coming all of this way to tell us what really happened out there", Fitz says, standing from the sofa.
"Enjoy your family, Fitz", the chief says as the two men walk down the hall toward the front door.
"Have a safe trip back home, Andrew. I appreciate you coming here today. I won't forget it."
"Chief Schuller", Hildie calls out as she hurries down the hall.
The chief and Fitz turn and look at the woman.
"Your hat, sir."
"Oh - thank you, ma'am", smiling politely and holding the hat close to his chest.
"And here are some of those cinnamon rolls, sir", returning the man's smile as she hands him the bag filled with the delightful pastry. "Hot from the oven."