A/N: I am so sorry the car scene in the last chapter triggered painful memories for some of you. I certainly don't endorse child abuse. Also, sorry for the late update, but I'm posting before another month ends. Thank you for the reviews and PMs. Sorry, I did not have time to respond. Enjoy and tell me what you think. Here we go!
Chapter 75. Float and Fries
Cradling the side of her swollen belly with one hand, and holding onto the railing with the other, Olivia carefully descends the long, steep staircase in search of her husband. Over the past three weeks she has made the after-hours trek from their bedroom down to the study more times than she cares to count. She treads through the family room, following the soft melodic sounds of classical pianist Lange-Müller. She sighs when she reaches the study and sees the laptop screen glowing in the dimly lit room.
"Fitz …"
"Go back to bed, Olivia. I'll be up shortly," he says, staring intently at the screen.
"You can't do this every night," she says, holding her stomach as she walks over to the desk.
"I just need to know she's all right."
"Did the detective say he's seen anything concerning?"
"Is that what resilience looks like? Does she look like she's bouncing back?" He asks, pointing at the screen. "She sits alone on the porch every day. She looks so sad."
"It's to be expected, babe. She's going to need time," Olivia says, walking around the desk and peering over his shoulder at the screen.
"Where the hell is Tamika? I haven't seen her once. And why doesn't Asha have Freddie? She never lets him out of her sight."
"Come up to bed, babe. You're taking Cee to school in the morning."
Fitz stares at Asha's face a few more moments before turning off the laptop.
XXX
Ears pricked, Bowtie quickly stands from his doggie bed and stares at the slightly ajar bedroom door. As usual, he is on high alert. He looks down the hall toward Fitz and Olivia's bedroom then back at the door. Help is not coming. He nudges open the door with his nose, walks over to the bed, and lie on the furry, multi-colored area rug. He whimpers softly, trying to console the little girl who is crying in her sleep again.
Olivia yawns as she walks from the bathroom for the second time since she and Fitz came upstairs from the study. She swears she spends half her life in the bathroom these days. As she climbs into bed, her eyebrows twist in confusion when she hears Bowtie's muffled whimpers. She slides her feet into the pink, furry slippers and walks from the bedroom thinking there will not be any sleep for her tonight.
As she enters the bedroom, Olivia and Bowtie's eyes connect in the moonlit room. She quickly looks over at her daughter curled into a ball and crying softly. Unfortunately, this has also become routine.
"Cee, baby — what's the matter? Did you have another bad dream?"
Cena nods her head as the tears stream down her cheeks.
"Aww, come here," sitting on the bed and pulling her teary-eyed daughter onto her lap. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
"I dreamed the mean lady was taking me away again and you and daddy couldn't save me. She kept laughing every time I said I wanted to go home."
"I'm sorry you had a bad dream."
"She had a green face and a big nose with a black bump on it."
"That mean old lady is gone now. She can't scare you any longer. All right?"
Cena remains silent. She is not convinced the woman will not come back. She always comes back.
"Do you want mommy to get you something to drink?" Olivia asks as she gently rocks her daughter.
Cena shakes her head from side to side, sliding her thumb into her mouth.
"Do you want to go back to bed? I can leave the light on," Olivia says, gently pulling the thumb from Cena's mouth. She has not seen her daughter suck her thumb in two years.
Cena shakes her head no.
"How about you sleep with daddy and me tonight. Would you like that?"
Cena eagerly nods her head up and down. She never gets to sleep in her parents' big bed.
XXX
Lying on her side with head resting in the palm of her hand, Cena stares at her sleeping father. She has been patiently waiting for him to wake up since her mother went into the bathroom. She wants to tell him about the dream.
"Who is this little bedbug in my bed?" Fitz asks, his voice raspy from sleep.
"Daddy — I was waiting for you to wake up."
"You were?" Fitz says, turning on his side to face his daughter.
"I had a bad dream again. The mean lady was trying to steal me and she kept laughing when I said I wanted my mommy and daddy. I was crying and mommy said I could sleep in here," Cena says in one breath.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Fitz says in a sympathetic tone. "Are you still afraid?" Lifting Cena onto his chest. Cena nods her head no.
"Cee — did you wake daddy?" Olivia asks, walking from the bathroom rubbing her stomach.
"No. I waited — then he opened his eyes. Right, daddy?"
"Right, Princess. Cee said she had a bad dream," looking at his wife with concern.
Olivia nods. Cena has been having the same dream since Asha moved away.
"Cee — it's time to get ready for school," Olivia says, sitting down on the bed. "It's your first day back. You'll get to meet your new teacher today and see all your friends."
"Guess who's driving you to school?" Fitz says, tickling his daughter's pajama-clad stomach.
"Can you drive the fast car, daddy? Please? Please?"
"Okay — but you better hurry and get dressed so you can eat breakfast."
"Yay," Cena squeals as she crawls off her father and runs from the bedroom.
"I don't like she's having this recurring dream," Fitz says.
"I know. Let's give her a little more time."
XXX
Dressed in the new clothes her mother bought for the first day of school, Cena climbs onto one of the tall island stools and looks at the colorful vegetables Jeffries has spread at the other end of the island. She frowns at the vegetables, then turns her attention to the array of bowls lined on the granite island top: fresh fruit, homemade granola, honey, and some funny-looking seeds.
"Good morning," Cena says as she watches Jeffries bracelets jingle as he vigorously whisks something in a bowl.
"Good morning, Big-Little. Don't you look adorable. Are you ready for your first day back to school?"
Cena shrugs her shoulders.
"Why are you looking so down in the mouth? Aren't you excited about seeing your friends? You haven't seen them all summer," Jeffries says as he sets the clear, footed glass bowl in front of her.
Cena shrugs her shoulders again.
"Well — start building your parfait —I guarantee it will cheer you up. Eating it will feel like a party in your mouth."
Cena scoops two spoonfuls of the homemade granola into the glass bowl and adds layers of raspberries, blueberries, and kiwi.
"May I have some cream, please?"
"You certainly may. It's right there in the bowl. I just finished making it."
"I like the cream in the can."
"Try my homemade cream. It's much better than that stuff in the can."
Cena stares at the bowl of whipped cream and frowns. She is not in the mood to try something new this morning.
"Try it. If you don't like it then you may have the dreadful canned version."
Cena dips the tip of the spoon into the bowl and cautiously sticks out her tongue to taste Jeffries' latest concoction. Her eyes light up.
"This tastes really good," eagerly heaping several more spoonfuls on top of the fruit.
"You mustn't be afraid to try new foods — you'll miss out on lots of scrumptious surprises. Sprinkle chia seeds on top and add some honey. So — are you going to tell me why you're wearing such a long face this morning? It doesn't match that beautiful dress."
"I miss Asha. She was supposed to go to my school," Cena says, poking out her bottom lip.
"It's okay to miss her — but you cannot be sad forever. Besides — Asha is with you all the time."
"Really?" Looking at Jeffries with uncertainty.
"When you're missing Asha – close your eyes and think about all the fun the two of you had together. I guarantee you'll feel better."
Cena eyes him skeptically.
"Go ahead — close your eyes."
Cena closes her eyes.
"Now — think about something fun you and Asha did together."
Cena smiles.
"I can see us dancing at Miss Ebony's class. I can see her laughing when daddy played monster in the pool."
"You see — Asha is always with you and you with her. You simply need to close your eyes."
Cena slides a spoonful of the parfait into her mouth, thinking she still misses her friend.
"Good morning, Jeffries," Fitz says, entering the kitchen and pressing a kiss to the top of his daughter's head.
"Good morning, Mr. Grant. Will you be having breakfast?"
"Just coffee today. I have to get someone to school. We don't want to be late. Right?" Sitting on the stool next to Cena.
Cena shrugs her shoulders.
"What's the matter? Aren't you excited about your first day?" Fitz asks, wondering if she is still upset about the dream.
"Asha was supposed to go to my school — now she's not," Cena whines, climbing down from the stool and running from the kitchen. Fitz glances up as Jeffries sets the cup of coffee in front of him.
"Cena — well all of us — have had a difficult time since Asha left."
"She's grieving the loss of her friend, Mr. Grant. You all are grieving."
Fitz stares at Jeffries with a furrowed brow.
"Grieving? No one has died, Jeffries."
"Mr. Grant — when we lose a loved one — through death or some other kind of separation — we feel a sense of loss. We grieve."
The furrow in Fitz' brow deepens. He never thought about Asha leaving in that way.
"Asha moving has left a void in your family, sir — which is natural and understandable."
Sighing softly, Fitz slowly sets the cup on the island top. He is not in the mood this morning for one of Jeffries' New Age lessons.
"Mr. Grant — Cena is taking her cues from you about how she handles the loss of Asha."
"Excuse me?" Fitz' frustration with the housekeeper is clearly rising.
"I don't mean to overstep, sir —"
"Then don't," Fitz says tersely.
Risking angering his employer further, or worse, losing his job, Jeffries continues to dispense words of wisdom. After all, that is why he accepted the position. During the interview, he quickly determined the Grants needed his help.
"The present must pass away to make space for the future — make space for acceptance and healing. Letting go and moving on is a choice, sir."
Fitz glares at Jeffries with steely eyes. The man is testing his patience.
"Your daughter is hurting, sir — because you are hurting. When you release Asha — accept that she is gone — Cena will as well. Cena cannot heal unless you give yourself permission to heal."
"Are you saying I'm failing my daughter?"
"Mr. Grant, Cena has so many pent-up emotions in her body right now. She needs an outlet — a way to release the energy."
"Have a good day, Jeffries," Fitz says, walking from the kitchen. Jeffries pushes his luck a little further.
"Mr. Grant — allow yourself some grace. Asha leaving is not your fault."
XXX
With Jolie in tow, Olivia ambles into the kitchen wearing the slippers she bought at the mall when she took Cena and Asha shopping for school clothes. She is hungry and exhausted. Between getting up several times throughout the night to go to the bathroom, and Cena tossing and turning in their bed, she did not get much sleep.
"Good morning, Jeffries," Olivia yawns as she places Jolie in the highchair.
"Good morning, Mrs. Grant. Good morning, Little Jolie," Jeffries says cheerfully.
"Good morning," Jolie replies with a toothy smile.
"What can I get you and the babies for breakfast today?" Jeffries asks as he sets a mug of hot tea on the farmhouse table.
"Surprise us," Olivia replies as another yawn escapes her mouth. She does not have the mental energy to think about what she wants to eat.
"Somebody didn't get much sleep last night," Jeffries says as he fills a white ceramic bowl with fruit and sets it on the table.
"I'm sorry, Jeffries. I was up most of the night," she says, reaching into one of the overhead cabinets for Jolie's favorite cup. She is not in the mood this morning for a revolt because she filled the wrong cup with milk.
"Cena certainly looked adorable this morning," Jeffries says, setting a plastic bowl with fruit onto Jolie's tray.
"Cee had another bad dream," giving Jeffries the abridged version of last night's events. I hope she won't be too sleepy in class."
"She misses Asha."
"It's hard at any age to lose your best friend," Olivia says, thinking about her own experience.
"Yes — but acceptance is the key. Accepting the new reality and learning to live with it," Jeffries says carefully, remembering his encounter earlier with Mr. Grant.
Olivia nods her head. She is not interested in discussing the issue that has consumed her family for the past month-and-a-half.
"I'm famished," Olivia says, sliding a spoonful of fruit into her mouth.
"Enjoy your fruit cup while I whip up an omelet and toast for you," Jeffries says, setting a frying pan onto one of the stove's front burners.
"Thank you, Jeffries," Olivia says, checking out the dreadlocks tied into a man-bun today. "Can you add bacon and home-fries with the omelet? I can't seem to get enough food lately."
"Mrs. Grant — you're eating for three. You get to eat as much as you want," Jeffries says, setting two more frying pans onto the stove's burners.
"I'll be going to Abby's later this morning. Do you mind watching Jo? Fitz is going to the office after he drops Cena off at school."
"I didn't realize council was back in session," Jeffries says, scraping sliced potatoes into one of the heated frying pans.
"They're not — not until next week. He's going to Grant Consulting," crinkling her nose thinking she has no idea why Fitz is visiting his business today.
"I see. I'm sure Little Jolie and I can find one or two things around here to keep us busy. Right, Jolie?" Jeffries says, placing four slices of bacon in the other frying pan.
"Right," Jolie replies, stuffing a handful of blueberries into her mouth.
"How is your sister-in-law doing these days?" Jeffries asks as he whisks the eggs in the glass bowl.
"I'm concerned about her. John says she still isn't getting out of bed. She's so protective of Joshua. John hasn't held his son yet."
"That doesn't sound good," Jeffries says, dropping two slices of sourdough bread into the toaster then pouring the beaten eggs into the frying pan.
"I know. Joshua was premature— but it doesn't make sense Abby won't let her own husband touch his son."
Jeffries sets the plate of breakfast food in front of Olivia and a big smile spreads across her face.
"Thank you. This looks absolutely scrumptious. May I have some ketchup and orange juice?"
"Coming right up. Mrs. Grant — your sister-in-law must get up. She cannot stay in bed any longer. She must get up and move on."
"Move on," Jolie the Parrot repeats. Olivia and Jeffries look at each other and burst out laughing.
XXX
John cautiously follows Olivia up the staircase to the primary bedroom where his wife is in her daily position — in bed and cuddling Joshua close. Abigail does not allow him to enter their bedroom unless he is replenishing the supplies.
Olivia gasps softly when she steps into the massive bedroom and sees her friend curled into a ball. She cannot see Joshua. The huge bed seems to have swallowed them both. Olivia looks over at the diapers, baby wipes, and clothing piled on top of the nightstand then back at John, wondering how he let things get so out of control. Discomfited by the look in her eyes, he stares down at the floor.
"I put fresh everything in there every day," he says nervously from the doorway.
"Where's Irma?" Olivia asks, continuing to glare at her brother-in-law.
"Abigail sent her away."
Moving from window to window, Olivia snatches back the heavy drapes and throws open each window. Abby shields her eyes with the back of her hand, squinting as the sunlight floods the room. She cannot remember the last time she saw the sun. The sweet, perfumy scent of the Frostproof gardenia bushes that Olivia helped her to plant shortly after she and John moved into the house fill the bedroom.
Olivia gently takes Joshua from his mother's arms and Abby weakly protests in anger. Her attempt to hold on to her baby is futile. She has not eaten much of anything over the past few weeks, just enough to nourish Joshua when she nurses him.
"Don't take my baby. Give me back my baby," Abby screams feebly.
John looks over at the wife he hardly recognizes and his heart disintegrates into a hundred little pieces. He has no idea what is wrong with her. He does not know how to help his wife.
"Take him downstairs, John," Olivia says, handing the father his newborn son.
John nods and smiles down lovingly at the baby he is holding for the first time.
"Call Irma. Get her back here right away," Olivia commands.
John nods his head quickly and hurries from the room cradling Joshua.
"I want my baby. I have to take care of my baby," Abby cries out.
"Joshua is fine. He's downstairs with his father. It's time to get up, Abbs."
Abby presses the pillow to her face and shakes her head no.
"You cannot stay in this bed another day. I won't allow it. Let's go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up."
Abby shakes her head no, and Olivia sees the fear in her eyes. She sits on the bed and brushes the greasy hair from her friend's face.
"It's going to be all right. I'm here. I got you," Olivia says, trying to coax the weak woman from the bed. "I'm going to get you into the bathtub. Okay?"
Abby meekly nods her head. She is wobbly on her feet. Lack of proper nutrition and lying in bed far too long have taken their toll on her body.
XXX
The citrus-scented bath salts fill the air and Abby leans back against the bathtub, inhaling softly as Olivia shampoos her long red locks. She closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the warm water streaming from the top of her head, down her face, and neck. She is coming alive.
"Relax while I go change the sheets. Okay?" Abby does not respond, instead, she stares straight ahead at the grey, honed tiled walls.
Fifteen minutes later Olivia returns and helps Abby out the tub, wrapping a sheet towel around her thin body and a smaller towel around her head. She brushes her friend's teeth, directing her when to spit out the toothpaste.
"Come on, Abbs — let's get you back to the bedroom," Olivia says, guiding the woman over to the chaise lounge. Abby avoids Olivia's eyes. She knows her friend wants answers.
"When was the last time you've eaten? I mean eaten a real meal."
"You almost drowned me in there," Abby snarls, pulling the towel from around her head. The hot bath, clean hair, and body give her fighting strength.
"So - you can speak," Olivia says with a smirk, staring into Abby's sad eyes.
"I'm not depressed, Olivia. I don't have postpartum depression or any of that other crap," Abby growls as she walks over to the closet to get a robe.
"Okay," Olivia says, giving her friend space to reveal what is going on.
Abby paces around the bedroom, pulling the robe's sash tight around her small waist. She sits down on the bed and stares at the pattern in the rug. A steady stream of tears begins to flow down her cheeks.
"Abbs — what's the matter? What's wrong?" Olivia asks, moving over to the bed as quickly as she can.
"I almost killed my baby, Olivia," shame filling her voice.
"No - you didn't. Pre-term births are not uncommon," Olivia says, brushing back the strands of wet hair from Abby's face.
Abby's eyes dart nervously from Olivia to the open door. Olivia stares at Abby for a moment, then walks across the room and quietly closes the door.
"He was three weeks early," Abby says just above a whisper. "Babies aren't fully developed until the 39th week," nervously twisting the robe's sash.
"Joshua is fine. He's perfect."
"If John ever found out he will hate me. There won't be any coming back from this. He'll take Ethan and Joshua. He'll leave me."
"Abby — what are you talking about?"
"If I tell you — you have to promise you won't tell anyone — not even Fitzgerald."
"I promise. What's wrong?"
"You tell him everything."
"I promise. Tell me, Abby."
"I'm a nurse — I should've known better. I knew better — but I was desperate," her body shaking like a leaf blowing precariously on a blustery winter day.
Olivia takes Abby's trembling hand into hers and waits for the frightened woman to share what is troubling her.
"This pregnancy was nothing like when I was pregnant with Ethan. With Ethan — I didn't have wild cravings and I didn't want to eat everything in sight. I could exercise 30 minutes a day and maintain a healthy weight. But this time was so different. Everything was different. I couldn't stop eating. After my fourth month — that's when it got really bad. Eat. Eat. Eat," Abby cries, punching her fist on her thigh, "that's what I did all day: burgers — pizza — ice cream. Anything — it didn't matter. And — I didn't have to go out to get it. They deliver whatever I wanted to the front door. I hid the bags and containers in the outside trash so Jonathan wouldn't see them."
Olivia crinkles her brow.
"Of course - I kept getting bigger and bigger. I couldn't even fit that stupid maternity belt you gave me. And — Jonathan was coming home later and later," she says, swiping the tears from her cheek. "He claims he was working on a big case — but I didn't believe him. He just didn't want to be around his fat — pregnant wife. He's probably screwing that skinny bitch — his new assistant."
"Abby …." Olivia says in a warning tone, but Abby continues rambling about things that make no sense.
"Jonathan likes me thin. The pressure on women to have the perfect body — pregnant or otherwise — is exhausting. We're always judged by our appearance — how coiffed our hair is. How big our boobs are — but not too big. Men can be fat and bald and feel no pressure at all. Jonathan is getting a pouch — but I don't say anything because I love him."
Trying to calm her friend, Olivia rubs her hand up and down Abby's back and listens attentively.
"I was working out — every day — 30 minutes at a time at first — like before. But — the weight wouldn't come off. Then it was two hours at a time. I became obsessed," she says, glancing over at the closed door.
Olivia squeezes Abby's hand, encouraging her to continue.
"I just wanted to lose a few pounds. In the beginning - I thought I would just take a few — just to jumpstart me. But they weren't working. I kept getting fat — so I started taking more. That's when I went into labor."
She clamps a hand over her mouth thinking how stupid she was. She could have harmed her baby, or worse.
"Abby — what were you taking?"
"Diet pills. I got them off the internet. I was stupid— stupid — stupid," banging the heel of her hand against her forehead. "Joshua could've been born with a number of birth defects. I feel so guilty. I almost killed my baby."
"Aww, Abby," Olivia says, hugging her distraught friend close.
"I needed to keep him close to me all the time — checking if anything was wrong," staring at Olivia wild-eyed. "I needed to make sure those damn pills didn't harm him — that I hadn't harmed him."
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you, Abbs."
"I'm so tired, Olivia. I haven't had a good night's sleep since Joshua was born. It's so exhausting having to live a lie."
"We all make mistakes, Abby. This one mistake will not define who you are as a mother. Heap this one on top of the bonfire and move on. Move on and enjoy your new baby. Enjoy your family."
XXX
Later that night, Olivia steps out of the shower and stares in the mirror at the body she no longer recognizes. She frowns. Her face is full. Her breasts are full, too, but fortunately have not begun to sag. Her stomach is round and her hips are wide. Dad was right; she is plump. She shakes her head. She is so far beyond plump. She thinks about Abby and wants to cry.
"Liv — why is the door locked?" Fitz asks, jingling the doorknob from the other side.
"Just a minute," she calls out, quickly trying to pull on her robe.
"Liv — I gotta go to the bathroom."
"Use the bathroom down the hall," she yells, frantically trying to find the sash to her robe.
"Open the door — will ya?"
"Okay. Okay," snatching open the door and glaring at her husband's confused face. "My goodness — why are you always yelling like a madman?"
"Why was the door locked? Are you all right?" Fitz asks, staring at her with concern.
"Go pee, Fitz," she says grumpily, pulling the robe tight as she stomps into the bedroom. She snatches a nightgown from the dresser drawer and walks into the closet to change.
"Why was the door locked?" He asks, watching her quickly pull the gown down over her head.
"Why must you always sneak up on me?" Trying to maneuver the gown down over her stomach and hips. It is too small, of course.
"What's wrong?" He asks, following her into the bedroom.
"Nothing's wrong, Fitz. I just would like to have a little notice when you're entering a room. A little privacy would be nice," sitting down on the bed and vigorously warming the cream between her hands.
"Privacy?" His eyes stretching wide with surprise.
"Yes — privacy, Fitz. You've heard of privacy haven't you?"
Leaning against the dresser, Fitz folds his arms across his chest and waits for his wife to tell him what has her in such a foul mood. She looks over at him and expels a heavy sigh.
"Fine. You want to do this now? When we were at Szechuan Gardens — after we left the hospital from having the ultrasound — why didn't you stop me from eating all that food?"
"What?" His arms drop down to his sides and he stands up straight.
"Why did you encourage me to eat all that food: three appetizers — an entrée — and dessert?"
"I didn't encourage you to eat anything. Besides — that was almost a month ago — why are you bringing it up now?"
"Don't think I didn't see you and that waitress snickering. You - leaning back in the chair with your legs crossed. I saw you. Did you slip her an extra tip when I went to the restroom?"
"Whoa. Whoa," holding up his hands in defense. He does not like where this discussion is going.
"Do you think I'm fat? Do you think fat people like to eat all the time? Is that what the two of you were snickering about, Fitzgerald?"
"I don't know where all this is coming from — but one — you are not fat. You're pregnant because I knocked you up. Two — I wasn't snickering with anyone. With all the CPS business happening at that time — I was glad to see that you were enjoying yourself. Three — what the hell is this all about?"
Her bottom lip trembles and the tears roll down her face.
"Livvie — what's the matter? What's wrong? Is it the hormones?"
She shakes her head and he kneels down in front of her, taking her hands in his.
"Then what is it? Did I do something? Tell me."
"If I tell you — you can't tell anyone. You promise?" She mutters through the sniffles.
"I promise," he says quickly, not knowing what he is agreeing to.
"I don't want us to have secrets."
"Tell me."
"Abby isn't depressed. She's feeling guilty and scared. She thought she was fat so she started taking diet pills."
"What? While pregnant?"
"Don't judge," brushing the tears from her cheek.
"I'm not judging. I just don't understand," sitting on the bed next to her.
"That's why she delivered Joshua early. She was afraid the pills may have harmed him. That's why she's been so protective. She needed to watch him all the time — just in case …."
"What the hell was she thinking? Does John know?"
"She was feeling insecure and unattractive. She thinks – thought — John is having an affair."
"What? Is he?"
"I don't know, Fitz. The pressure on women to be perfect all the time can be too much. It's unrealistic."
"Do I put that kind of pressure on you? Is that why …." Pulling her onto his lap.
"Do you think I'm fat?" She mumbles against his neck. Fitz chooses his words carefully.
"Of course not. You're my Livvie."
XXX
Leaning back against the headboard with his long legs stretched in front of him, Fitz frowns as he re-reads the disturbing article he stumbled across while researching body image issues for pregnant women. The news Olivia shared with him last night about Abigail was jarring and got him to thinking about his own wife. He wants to make sure he is not unconsciously sending her any signals that might affect her self-esteem.
"What are you reading?" Olivia asks, walking from the closet carrying a pair of red, strappy, high-heel sandals.
Fitz looks up from the tablet and smiles at the way the sleeveless white dress hugs her body. Her full breasts and butt are perfect. They have been married for almost 10 years and he desires her as much today as he did the first time he met her.
"You look nice," he says, watching her fumble through the vast array of hair accessories scattered on the silver vanity tray.
"Thank you," not seeing the desire in his eyes as she searches for a certain hair clip. It is going to be another hot day and she wants to wear her hair up. She wonders if the hair clip is in Cena's room.
"What time will you be back home?" Already imagining the many ways in which he is going to ravage her body.
"Around two," she says, trying to wrangle her hair into the decorative band. "You're on that tablet an awful lot lately — what are you reading?"
Her question interrupts his fantasies and jolts his attention back to the article.
"Have you heard about something called the husband stitch?"
"Yes," she says, searching in her makeup bag for the red lipstick. She feels like being bold today.
"You mean you know about it?" Shock filling his voice.
"Of course - I do. I've had two children, Fitz."
"And you didn't tell me?" He says, growing agitated.
"Tell you what? What is there to tell?" She says, leaning toward the mirror and gliding on the cherry red lipstick.
"Has Dr. Perry done this thing to you?"
"Of course not. Why are you asking about this now?"
"Because I just learned about it and I think it's ridiculous. I don't want you doing anything like that because you think sex would be more pleasurable for me. Your body is your body," he says emphatically. She looks over her shoulder at him in disbelief.
"Thank you for letting me know that my body is my body."
"You know what I mean. Stitching a woman's vagina after delivery to make sex more pleasurable for the man is just ridiculous."
"It's not ridiculous," she says, using her fingers to brush the bangs to the side. "Women are under a great deal of pressure to be perfect — in and out of bed."
"I don't want you doing any of that stuff. I don't want you starving yourself or taking any damn pills to look the way some asshole man says a woman ought to look."
"I was having a moment last night, Fitz. I was thinking about Abby. The lengths she went to trying to attain a perfect body. That's all."
"Promise me you won't do any of that crap."
"Fitz — please."
"Just promise me."
"I promise. I promise."
"Do you think Abigail needs to talk to someone? A therapist?"
"I don't know. She says she's not depressed. John needs to keep an eye on her. I need to visit her more often."
Fitz shakes his head thinking the whole thing is absurd.
"Liv — we have two girls — we'll soon have three. I never want them to feel ashamed of their body. I don't want their self-worth to be tied to their looks. We have to reinforce that," he says adamantly.
"Babe — you're such a feminist."
"Come here," outstretching his hand to her. She slides the shoes from the vanity table and walks over to the bed.
"What?" Smiling broadly as he pulls her onto his lap.
"Do you know how much I love you?" Sliding his tongue into her mouth.
"Don't start anything, Mister. I have to meet Gray and Mona. I don't have time."
"We'll finish this later," kissing her again.
"Help me with these," smiling mischievously as she dangles the high-heel sandals.
"Are you sure you want to wear these?" He asks, climbing from the bed to buckle the straps around her ankles. Olivia ignores the question and walks back to the mirror to touch up her lipstick.
XXX
Staring at the amethyst crystal in the palm of her hand, Olivia feels guilty about not being completely honest with Fitz. She allowed him to believe she was only meeting with Grayson and Mona this morning, where, in fact, her first meeting is with Cynthia Harrington. She wanted to meet with Cynthia to find out how Asha is doing without having to referee the bickering between her husband and the social worker. Rubbing the crystal one more time, she inhales deeply, then knocks on the door.
Cynthia assesses Olivia's appearance, from head to toe. Her eyes linger a little too long on the high-heel sandals. They are to die for.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me this morning, Mrs. Harrington," Olivia says, lowering her body onto the small chair.
Cynthia eyes the bright red lipstick. She never would have thought a woman like Olivia Grant would wear that shade, but it works on her.
"Of course, Mrs. Grant. I'm happy to finally get a chance to meet with you alone," glancing at the red Prada handbag Olivia set in the empty chair next to her.
"Excuse me?" Olivia says. The woman's underlying message is not lost on her.
"I just meant … You and I have never had a chance to really talk — just the two of us." Perhaps wishful thinking, Cynthia believes, under other circumstances, she and Olivia Grant could be friends.
"Mrs. Harrington — my husband and I are a team. Don't mistake his absence today for anything else."
"Why are you here, Mrs. Grant?" Cynthia asks tersely. Friendship is not a possibility.
"It's been over three weeks since Asha moved to South Carolina with her aunt — and we haven't heard anything from Tamika. She said she would call and let us know how Asha is doing."
"Is there a question in there somewhere, Mrs. Grant?" Cynthia says, thinking rich people always want something from her.
"Have you heard from Tamika? Do you know how Asha is doing?" Olivia asks, vigorously rubbing her thumb over the smooth crystal.
"Mrs. Grant — there's no reason for Mrs. Richardson to contact me."
Olivia crinkles her brow.
"When a foster child moves out of state — our local CPS offices are no longer involved in the case. I arranged for Mrs. Richardson and her husband to meet with a social worker in their city. Their local child protection agency will now monitor the case."
"You mean you don't follow-up on …. You haven't check how Asha is doing?" Olivia asks in disbelief.
"Mrs. Grant — you and your husband —"
"My husband isn't here. Talk to me," Olivia snaps. Cynthia smiles to herself, thinking Olivia Grant is tougher than she thought.
"One check-in meeting is all that's required with the new social worker. We had that meeting two weeks ago. The social worker reported that Asha is doing well. She is adjusting to living with her new family."
"Can you have Tamika call us? We would like to talk to her. We just –"
"Let it go, Mrs. Grant."
"Excuse me?"
"Mrs. Grant — I don't mean to be insensitive — but don't you think Asha understood you were not her family? Don't you think she wondered how long you would keep her? When she would have to leave your home? Where she would go?"
Olivia's breathing quickens. Cynthia has unknowingly touched a raw nerve.
"The research and evidence show that children who live with blood relatives have a greater feeling of stability and permanency in comparison with those who live with non-relatives. Living with blood relatives contributes to inner self-assurance. The best place for Asha Innis is with her aunt."
Cynthia stands from her seat signaling the meeting is over.
XXX
Olivia plops down into the first chair she sees and expels a heavy sigh of relief. She is hot and her feet hurt. Wearing the strappy, high-heel sandals seemed like a good idea when she got dressed this morning. She was feeling energetic and bold and wanted her attire to reflect her mood. Two-and-a-half hours later, her swollen feet violently disagree with her fashion choice.
"Olivia — it's so good to see you," Mona says cheerfully when she enters the waiting room.
"It's good to see you — too, Mona," Olivia replies with a forced smile.
"What's the matter? Is something wrong?"
"My feet are killing me." Mona looks down at the stylish shoes and frowns.
"Why are you wearing those ridiculous heels in your condition?"
"They looked really good sitting in the closet this morning. I haven't worn them in ages."
"You should've left them where you found them. Come on back to my office and put up your feet."
Bracing for another stab of pain to shoot across her feet, Olivia slowly stands.
"You should wear flats, Olivia. They're safer and certainly more comfortable."
Olivia silently groans as she follows Mona down the hall. She loves Mona dearly; she is like a second mother to her. But she is not in the mood to be lectured about her choice in footwear.
"Take off those shoes and put your feet up on this chair," Mona says, helping to lower Olivia down onto one of the small chairs placed in front of the desk.
"If I take them off I'll never get them back on," Olivia whines, reaching down to massage her calf.
"Do you have a pair of sensible shoes in the car?"
"In the trunk."
"I'll get them before you leave. Now — take those things off. Can I get you something to drink?"
"No — thank you," Olivia says, leaning to the side to unbuckle the sandals.
"Other than those feet — you look good, Olivia. The babies are really growing. Are you sure you don't have more than two in there?" Mona chuckles.
"I can't stop eating, Mona."
"That's not a bad thing, Olivia. Over the next few months - you and those babies are going to need all the nutrition you can get. This is not the time to worry about your figure."
"Thank goodness Jeffries prepares healthy meals. Gourmet — but healthy."
"Who is Jeffries?" Mona asks, sitting on the edge of the desk.
"Our new helper. He's fantastic. You have to meet him," Olivia says with a big smile.
"Invite Tom and me over for dinner and I'll give Jeffries the once-over," Mona chuckles. "Seriously — I'm glad you finally got someone to help around the house. It's been a while since Hildie left."
"It took a while for Fitz to agree."
"I'm sure it did," Mona chuckles again. "How was your meeting with Grayson? Council sessions resume next week."
"I finally dropped off the proposal. The team agreed with my changes."
"You've heard of email — text — AirDrop — haven't you?" Mona laughs again.
"You're in a good mood today," Olivia says, wiggling her toes trying to encourage the blood to resume flowing.
"Don't mind me. I'm just having a little fun," Mona says, walking around the desk and sitting down in the chair.
"We want to get the proposal on council's docket as soon as possible. Of course — we need a council member to sponsor it."
"Does Fitz support overdose prevention sites?"
"It's not on his radar."
"With his support — the proposal is a shoo-in."
"I know, Mona," Olivia says, somewhat annoyed. "Fitz isn't willing to spend his political capital on the issue. He has other priorities."
"It's a hotbed issue."
"I won't let the opposition stop us, Mona."
"The opposition? Residents have the right to decide what they want or don't want in their neighborhoods. They don't want drug addicts around their children, Olivia."
"If this proposal can save one life — one parent — then it'll be worth the fight. I don't want another child to lose a parent unnecessarily," Olivia replies forcefully.
Mona sighs and decides to drop the matter. Once Olivia has made up her mind, there is no changing it. She has been down this road more than once with her former boss. But this time, Olivia is wrong. Driven by guilt for not saving Kelly, Olivia is ignoring the community's resistance to opening sites where addicts can safely use illegal drugs intravenously.
"Are you sure I can't get you something to drink? Tea? Marcella bought a new tea — ginger-peach. I used it to make iced tea. It's really good."
"No — thank you. If I drink anything else — I'll be in the bathroom the rest of the day."
Mona chuckles.
"How's it going with Marcella?"
"She's a model citizen. You scared the daylights out of her."
"Marcella cannot socialize here. It's not professional."
"I agree with you — 100 percent. I helped her to understand entertaining her boyfriend here is not acceptable."
Olivia nods her head. She is confident that Mona has the matter under control.
"How are you doing, Mona? It hasn't been that long since Anthony …."
"Some days are better than others. Anthony was my last relative — blood relative — that is. All I have left is Tom."
"I'm so sorry, Mona. Is there anything I can do?"
"You and Fitz have been so generous— too generous."
"You're family, Mona. Never forget that."
"You're getting me all choked up," Mona says, snatching a few tissues from the box.
"You and Tom should go up to the lake house. Get away for a while. Relax."
"You mean your lake house?"
"We hardly ever use it. I think we were up there maybe twice this summer. School has reopened so we won't be going up anytime soon."
"I remember when Fitz bought your personal getaway house. That man really loves you, Olivia."
"I love him — too," Olivia replies, rubbing her stomach.
"Do you ever go up there alone - just to get away? That's why Fitz bought it."
"I don't want to go without my family. The girls love it there. Riding their bikes — swimming — hiking …. I mean it, Mona — you and Tom should use the place."
"Thanks, Olivia. I appreciate the offer — but I don't want to leave Marcella alone at the foundation."
Olivia gives Mona a questioning look.
"She's good, Olivia. I swear. But — I realized she's still learning. Managing the foundation while I was in Texas was a lot of responsibility for her. I don't want to put Marcella in that position again."
"Well — if you decide to go — extra keys are in the flowerpot at the front door."
"The flowerpot? Isn't that the first place the bad guys look?"
They burst into laughter, both knowing how ridiculous the flowerpot is as a hiding place.
"So — tell me — how are those beautiful girls of yours doing? What is my Jolie getting into these days?"
"Jo is Jo. Mona — she is so different from Cee when she was that age. Jolie never stops. She gets into everything — climbs over everything. I think she's going to break her neck one day."
Mona chuckles, shaking her head from side to side.
"Cee was always so compliant. She ruined Fitz and me."
"I told you the next baby wasn't going to be as easygoing as Cena."
"You certainly did," Olivia says, smiling and shaking her head. "Jo is now obsessed with heavy construction vehicles — of any kind."
"Where in the world did that come from?"
Olivia shrugs her shoulders and Mona laughs.
"I have to get over there soon to see her. And Cena — how is the Princess doing?"
"Cena is so sad, Mona."
"Why? What's going on?" Looking at Olivia with concern.
"It's such a long story."
"We have nothing but time. What's wrong with Cena?"
"Asha no longer lives with us. CPS found Kelly's sister. She lives in South Carolina. She took Asha back with her a few weeks ago."
"Aww — I'm so sorry, Olivia. That little girl became a member of your family."
"We all loved having Asha with us. I'm hoping now that Cee is back in school with her friends — she won't be so sad. It's hard when your best friend moves away."
"Asha was more than Cena's best friend, Olivia. She lived in your home for three months. They were like sisters."
"I know," Olivia says solemnly.
"Tell me about this aunt — is she a good person?"
"She seems to be. We didn't have a lot of time to spend with her. She was only here for three days. She's a nurse and married so she had to get back home. Her husband is in the Marines. He's stationed in South Carolina."
Mona nods, absorbing everything Olivia is saying.
"Fitz and I wanted to make sure Asha was comfortable with Tamika — that's the aunt's name. We needed to prepare her for another change."
"That poor baby. How did she take it?"
"At first she seemed fine. We took her to the CPS offices to meet her aunt for the first time. It was a short visit — but they seemed to get along well."
Mona nods her head.
"The next day — the social worker called to say that Tamika decided she wanted to take Asha back home with her. Fitz was so upset."
"He loves that little girl. He's been like a father to her."
"We didn't have any legal rights, Mona. CPS made us her foster family — but they're only interested in reuniting relatives. As much as we love Asha — we're not blood relatives."
"I see CPS hasn't changed much," Mona says half under her breath.
"We invited Tamika to the house for lunch. We wanted to give Asha more time to spend with her aunt — in a safe space. We also had a going-away party for Asha and invited Tamika. Asha was so excited. Of course — all the gifts she received helped."
"That's good. She needs some happiness in her life."
"She also seemed excited to have a connection with her mother's family. I think it was easy for her to accept Tamika because she looks a lot like Kelly."
"Traumatized children always look for any crumb for connection."
"I'm so sorry, Mona. I didn't mean to stir up bad memories."
"That's all right. It's been many years since I was a little girl in foster care waiting for mommy to save me."
"When we left Asha at CPS with her aunt — well — it was awful. She cried and screamed. She didn't want to leave with Tamika. I guess the reality of what was happening finally set in."
"How is she doing now?"
"We haven't heard from the aunt. She said she would call and let us know how Asha is doing. It's been three weeks and we haven't heard a thing. Fitz hired a private detective to check on her — to make sure she's all right."
"Did the detective find out anything?"
"He sends photographs and videos weekly. It's hard to tell from looking at photographs and videos how she's doing. That's why I went to see the social worker this morning — before coming here."
"Olivia …."
"I needed to know that Asha is all right. Fitz and Cena miss her so much. We are all heartbroken."
"What did the social worker say?"
"She basically told me to get over it — to move on."
"And you should."
"Mona," Olivia says with surprise in her voice.
"Olivia — I know you and Fitz love that little girl — but you'll never hear from that aunt."
"Why wouldn't she let us know how Asha is doing? She knows how close the girls are."
"Olivia — whenever my mother thought she was ready to care for Anthony and me — CPS reunited us. When we were back home my mother made sure we didn't have any contact whatsoever with our foster family."
"Why?"
"Jealousy. Insecurity. Control. Pick one. That's why you haven't heard from this Tamika person. That's why you never will."
"Mona — you took me to task — and rightly so — for not wanting to keep Asha."
"Olivia — I was having a bad day. So much was going on back then."
"I know — but that doesn't make what you said any less true."
"You're a good person, Olivia. No one can blame you for not wanting to take on the responsibility of another child. You already had two — and two more on the way. You also have a busy career. Don't be too hard on yourself."
"Cynthia — the social worker — said something that got me thinking."
"What did she say?"
"She said Asha understood that we were not her family and she probably wondered how long we would keep her before sending her away. Do you think Asha felt my resistance — my unwillingness to keep her?"
"How does Cynthia know what Asha was thinking? Asha knows how much you love her. You and Fitz didn't treat her any differently than you treat Cena and Jolie."
"Cynthia said the research shows children who live with blood relatives have better self-assurance than children who live with non-relatives."
"Don't listen to that woman's babble about blood relatives versus non-relatives. Take it from me — kinship can transcend blood relationship."
"She still believes the least detrimental placement for Asha is with her aunt."
"Let's hope that's true," Mona says.
XXX
Olivia loves this time of the day when the house is calm and they are all gathered in the family room relaxing after a long day of activities and enjoying another one of Jeffries' fabulous dinners. She is especially enjoying Fitz' strong hand massaging her achy feet. She has decided not to wear high heels shoes again until after the twins are born.
Glancing over at Jolie and Cena, each entertaining themself with their toys, she wonders how the twins will transform their family.
"Avery Marie," she says, snatching her husband's attention from whatever he is reading.
"Excuse me?" Fitz says, looking over at his wife with a knitted brow.
"The name for our baby girl."
He stops massaging her feet.
"You don't like the name," closely watching the expression on his face.
"I just heard it for the first time. I need time to think about it."
"You always say that. This is the seventh name you've rejected."
"I haven't rejected anything. I just need to think about it."
"When you say, "I need to think about it" — that means you don't like the name."
"We have plenty of time, Liv."
"We don't have plenty of time. In fact — we're running out of time."
"We have three more months," returning his attention to the tablet.
"Fitz."
"Fine. Let's discuss a boy's name."
"There's nothing to discuss — we're going with Fitzgerald. It's a family name — a strong name."
"No."
"No? What do you mean no?"
"I already told you — I don't want my son saddled with my father's name for the rest of his life."
"It's your name — too. He'll be your only son."
"That's why I want better for him. It's bad enough having a name like Fitzgerald. He shouldn't be teased because his grandfather is a criminal."
"Fitz. Little pictures …" Olivia admonishes, glancing over at Cena and Jolie. Cena still does not understand why her grandfather no longer comes to their house.
"Let's play, Cee," Jolie says, trying to entice her sister with Mr. Snuffles, the yellow, stuffed elephant.
"No," Cena snaps, causingBowtie's head to pop up from the floor where he has been comfortably napping.
"I want to play," Jolie persists, shaking Mr. Snuffles close to her sister's face.
"I said no," Cena snaps again, slapping the elephant from Jolie's hand. Jolie looks over at Mr. Snuffles sprawled across the floor and starts to cry.
"Cena. You do not speak to your sister that way. Pick up, Mr. Snuffles - and give it to her," Fitz demands.
Cena remains fixed in place, staring down at her dolls. Fitz and Olivia look at each other. Their usually obedient daughter has been irritable and somber these past few weeks.
"I said give your sister, Mr. Snuffles," walking over to his defiant daughter.
Cena reluctantly crawls over to the elephant, grabs it by the trunk, and hands Mr. Snuffles to a crying Jolie.
"Now apologize," Fitz demands, and Cena's eyes well with tears.
"I'm sorry."
"Babe — why don't you take Jo upstairs and get her ready for bed," Olivia says. She wants to talk to Cena alone. A mother knows when her daughter needs her mommy.
"C'mon, Angel — let's go take a bath," Fitz says, sweeping up the crying toddler from the floor.
"Cena is mean, daddy," Jolie says through the sniffles.
"No - she's not, Angel. Who wants a bubble bath?" Brushing the tears from her cheek with his thumb.
"Lots of bubbles, daddy?" Jolie smiles.
"Lots and lots of bubbles," Fitz replies as he carries Jolie from the family room.
"Cee — come sit with mommy," Olivia says, patting the sofa cushion next to her. Cena grabs her doll from the floor and climbs onto the sofa.
"You miss Asha — don't you?"
Cena nods her head up and down.
"I called her on FaceTime — two times — but she didn't answer," tears spilling from her eyes. Olivia's eyes widen with surprise, she had no idea Cena has been trying to contact Asha.
"Aw, Cee. Come here, baby," Olivia says, pulling the little girl onto her lap. Cena lays her head on her mother's full breasts and wraps her arm around her round belly.
"She's going to be scared, mommy."
"Why would you say that?" Brushing the tears from Cena's cheek.
"Because she won't have any friends at her new school. I don't want her to be sad again."
"You're such a sweet and kind friend," Olivia says, pressing a kiss to the top of Cena's head.
"She gets scared around strangers."
Olivia hugs her daughter tighter as they sit in silence for a few minutes.
"When I moved to Church Falls with NaNa and GranPop — I was so sad and scared."
"You were?"
"I didn't know anyone in Church Falls. All my friends were in New York. My best friend, Robin — was there and I missed her so much. We were so close. We did everything together. When I moved — we promised to call each other every day — but we didn't."
"Why not?" Cena asks, looking up at her mother's face. Olivia smiles. Cena's eyes look like Fitz' eyes when he is worried.
"We meant to — but long-distance friendships are hard. We lived in two different time zones — which made it more difficult. We didn't have FaceTime back in the old days," playfully poking Cena in the stomach. Cena smiles.
"What did you do?"
"At first — I spent a lot of time alone because I didn't know anyone. Then — I met your Uncle Bennie — and we became best friends."
"Uncle Bennie is fun."
"He is. Uncle Bennie introduced me to more kids at school — and soon — I had a whole new group of friends and I wasn't sad anymore."
"Mommy?"
"Yes, baby?" Brushing the stray hairs from her daughter's face.
"Will we see Asha again?"
"I don't know. But — if we don't — let's be thankful for the time we had with her. Okay?"
"Okay," Cena says through giggles. "Mommy — the babies kicked me."
"I guess they liked Jeffries' dinner — too," Olivia says, placing Cena's hand on her stomach.
"They kicked again," Cena laughs.
"They have been pretty active today."
"Mommy — what are the babies' names?"
"Daddy and I haven't decided yet. Do you have any suggestions?"
With index finger pressed to her lips, Cena looks skyward as if she is contemplating something important.
"Penelope for the girl. That's the name of the girl in one of my books. I don't have a name for the boy yet."
"Penelope is a nice name. We'll keep it in mind."
"Do you know how much mommy loves you?" Pressing a kiss to the top of Cena's curly hair.
"This much," Cena says, her arms spread wide, matching her smile.
"No — this much," Olivia says, spreading her arms wider. "Cee— whenever you're feeling sad or confused about something — I want you to talk to me or daddy. We don't want you to struggle with these feelings alone. Okay?"
Cena nods her head up and down and snuggles closer to her mother.
XXX
Waiting for Fitz to come downstairs Olivia sits at the farmhouse table reflecting on her conversation with Cena. She knew her daughter missed Asha, they all do, but she had no idea how concerned Cena was about her friend's well-being. She sighs softly, thinking this must stop. She was trying to let the sadness and nightmares run their course, but watching Cena crying because she is worried about Asha is the tipping point. She will not allow her daughter to suffer because an adult has decided to terminate the friendship of two little girls.
The heavy footsteps entering the kitchen snatch Olivia from her thoughts, and she looks over at Fitz as he pulls two containers of ice cream from the freezer. Lately, the kitchen is where they discuss family matters while enjoying the ice cream of their choice. The circumstances make this a double-scoop night.
Setting a bowl in front of her, Fitz swings a leg over the bench and sits down next to his wife with his bowl in hand.
"Thank you, babe. Are the girls asleep?"
"Out like a light."
"I've not eaten so much ice cream in my life. It's your fault you know?"
"My fault?"
"You eat ice cream all the time. I think you passed that gene down to the babies. You certainly have Cee hooked."
"Eating ice cream is a requirement for being a Grant. Try this," pushing his spoon toward her mouth.
"I have my own, Fitz."
"Try mine," pressing the spoon to her lips.
"You know I don't like Rocky Road," turning her head away.
"Teddy will like it."
"Teddy?"
"Our son."
"We are not naming our son Teddy."
"Why not? It's a perfectly good name."
"He'll be teased forever: teddy bear – Teddy Ruxpin — Pooh Bear. It'll never stop."
"I like it," Fitz says, smiling as he slides another spoonful of the creamy delight into his mouth.
"Not gonna happen, babe."
"What did you and Cee talk about while I was bathing Jo? Is she all right?"
"Did you know she FaceTimed Asha?"
"What? When?"
"Cee is so much like you, babe. She has a heart of gold. She misses Asha and wanted to make sure she was okay. Asha didn't answer."
Fitz stares at Olivia with concern in his eyes. She is not sure if he is concerned for Cena, Asha, or both.
"Babe, Cee is a little girl. She can miss Asha — but worry about her …. Cee's only job is to go to school — play with her dolls and toys —and help take care of Bowtie."
Staring down at the melting ice cream pooling at the bottom of the bowl, Fitz slowly nods his head.
"Mona doesn't think Tamika will ever contact us," Olivia continues.
"Why would she say that?"
"Control. I told you, Mona and her brother were in and out of the foster care system as children?"
He nods.
"Mona said whenever she and Anthony were reunited with their mother, she forbade them from contacting their foster family. She threatened lawsuits."
"I'm not fond of Tamika — but I don't think she would go that far."
"Fitz — it's been a month. Tamika hasn't called. I don't want to encourage Cee to pursue a relationship with Asha that Tamika obviously isn't interested in them having. We need to teach her the people we care about sometimes move on — and she must be okay with that. We have to be examples for her and Jo." Her eyes reflecting the conviction of her words.
Fitz purses his lips as he thinks about the unsolicited advice Jeffries' offered a few days ago.
"Fitz …."
"I get it, Liv."
"Moving on doesn't mean we care about Asha any less. It just means we need to focus on Cee and Jo."
"I know. I know," pushing around the almonds and cashews with the spoon. "I'll pull back the detective. No more photographs. No more videos."
"She's going to be fine, babe."
No longer enjoying their ice cream, for the next few minutes, husband and wife silently accept they may never see Asha again.
"Let's do something fun this weekend," he says quickly as if the thought just popped into his head.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Let's take the girls to that new play center down on Lexington."
"You mean the Fun Zone?"
"You know it?" He asks somewhat surprised.
"Of course - I know it, Fitz. I pass by it all the time on my way to the foundation. It's huge."
"They have new and old-school arcade games — prize machines — laser tag — Go Karts. Everything."
"You've been planning this."
"They even have a rock-climbing wall. The girls need some normalcy. They can run around the place until they're exhausted. Cee can burn off some of her frustration while having fun."
A faint smile crosses Olivia's face as she thinks about going to the Fun Zone. "Float and fries," she says reminiscently.
"What?"
"Didn't you go to Arnold's Arcade when you were a teenager? Arnold's and Sparky's — that's where all the kids in Church Falls hung out when I moved here."
"I didn't go there much. I was too busy."
"I can't believe you never went to Arnold's. Ben and I went there almost every weekend," sliding the spoon into her mouth.
"I didn't say I never went to Arnold's — I just didn't hang out there much. I was too busy."
"I forgot — you were such a serious teenager."
"Arcades just weren't my thing back then, Olivia."
"I remember the first time Ben took me to Arnold's. I'd never played video games. Ben was so patient. But when I got the hang of it …. Let's just say — I was known as the Queen of Ms. Pac-Man," twirling the spoon as she thinks about all the ghosts she gobbled up.
"I didn't know you played video games."
"After Arnold's — we'd go to Sparky's Diner and order a root beer float and a large order of French fries — with lots of ketchup. Mr. Bill — the owner of Sparky's — hated that Ben and I always shared one float and one order of fries."
XXX
Standing inside the entrance to the 40,000-square-foot family entertainment center, Olivia tightens her grip on Jolie's tiny hand, preventing the toddler from dashing across the crowded space. The lights and sounds have Jolie excited. Olivia scans the place thinking the Fun Zone is nothing like the small arcade she and Ben went to with their friends on weekends.
"This place is incredible. It's huge," Fitz says, holding Cena's hand.
"It's ginormous", Olivia yells over the cacophony of screaming kids. The place is abuzz with Go-Kart engines revving somewhere in the distance, arcade games dinging, and electronic voices growling "you lose".
Heart thumping against her chest, Cena watches children wearing hats made from colorful balloons laughing hysterically as they chase each other with light saber swords. She squeezes her father's hand.
"Are you all right, Princess?" Fitz asks, looking down at his daughter whose eyes are close to bulging from her head. Cena is frozen. She cannot move. Fitz bends down to pick her up, but she pulls away.
"No, daddy. I'm a big girl."
Fitz looks over at Olivia and smiles.
"You know how she gets when she's excited," Olivia says.
Cena regains her senses when she hears loud cheering coming from the arcade room.
"Daddy — can we drive the Go-Karts — play laser tag — and games?" Cena blurts out in one breath.
"Let's get a table first, Princess — so mommy can sit down."
XXX
Still holding Jolie's hand, Olivia sets the large tote bag containing an extra change of clothes for Jolie on the table. She glances around the food court hoping the bag will be safe while they take the girls to play.
"Let's get on the Go-Karts, daddy," Cena says excitedly, pulling her father by the hand. Fitz looks at Olivia.
"Go. Go," Olivia says shoo-ing them away with her hands.
"Are you going to be all right alone with Jo?"
"We'll be fine. Wall climbing first."
Two hours later, face flush and glistening, Cena runs over to the kiddie rock climbing wall where her mother is watching Jolie climb higher.
"Look, mommy. I won all these tickets. Daddy helped me."
"Wow — that's a lot of tickets," smiling at her daughter's excitement and the ribbon of tickets draped around her neck.
"Daddy said I can get whatever I want with them."
Olivia looks at Fitz thinking he must have spent a small fortune to win those tickets. He shrugs his shoulders and smiles. Cena is happy and that is all that matters.
"Mommy —daddy crashed our Go-Kart into the wall," Cena says through the laughter. "It was so funny."
"It sounds like you and daddy have been busy."
"Mommy — I'm hungry," Cena says.
"Hungry, mommy," Jolie repeats, looking down from the wall.
XXX
The Grants ordered enough food to satisfy everyone's cravings. Cena eagerly devoured her slice of pepperoni pizza and a vanilla milkshake. Jolie ate half of her hotdog before falling asleep on her mother's lap. Fitz and Olivia ate cheeseburgers and shared a root beer float and a large order of French fries.
"Bringing the girls here was a good idea, babe," Olivia says, finishing the last of the funnel cake as she watches Cena skip over to the trash bin to dump her leftovers.
"Float and fries," he says with a wink, and Olivia crinkles her brow when she sees Cena talking to a strange man across the dining room.
"Babe — who's that Cena's talking to?"
Without hesitation, Fitz hurries across the room and positions himself between Cena and the stranger.
"Can I help you?" Fitz asks with arms folded across his chest.
"Daddy …" Cena says, trying to peek around her father.
"I want to know why the hell you're talking to my daughter," the irate father demands.
"I was just …."
"Sophie," Cena squeals, running around her father when she sees the little blonde-haired girl walking over holding an ice cream cone in her hand.
"Cena — did you play Sonic? It's so much fun."
"No. Did you play Sponge Bob?"
Sophie shakes her head no.
"Daddy — may I play Sonic with Sophie? She's my friend. She went to my summer camp."
"I'm Norm Lineker. I'm Sophie's dad. I met Cena at summer camp," the bespectacled man smiles, extending a handshake. Fitz' face is flush with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. I …." Fitz stammers, slowly accepting the man's handshake. "I'm Cena's father."
"I understand, Council President Grant. Places like this can be a magnet for all sorts of unsavory characters. I watch Sophie like a hawk when we come here."
"Daddy — may I have more tokens?" Sophie asks, looking up at her father.
"Me too, daddy?" Cena says, holding out her hand.
Both men slip a hand into their pants pockets, each giving their daughter a handful of tokens to feed the machines.
"Come on, Cena — let's go play Sonic," Sophie says, shoving her ice cream cone into her father's hand.
"Daddy — tell mommy I'm playing Sonic with Sophie," Cena says, running with Sophie toward the arcade room.
"Don't talk to strangers," the two fathers call out after the girls. Norm and Fitz smile at each other.
"Norm — come meet my wife, Olivia. She's sitting over there with our daughter Jolie. We can keep our eyes on the girls from the table."
"Is your wife here?" Fitz asks.
"No. She's working today," Norm says as he follows Fitz over to the table.