A/N: This chapter is a pretty long and meaty one! After much back and forth on trimming this, I decided what the hell so here we are. Out of curiosity, does anyone have a preference on chapter lengths: long vs. short? My trend lately has been more on the long side but again, just curious if there is a preference.
Also, I took a leap and delved a little deeper than the show did on some things. Hopefully my attempt resonates and I don't lose you all along the way.
Anyway, enjoy! :)
Week Ten: The Florricks
A major donor is in play. Which way are you leaning?
Peter was positive if he looked up incessant in the dictionary, Eli's name would be printed next to the very origin of the word. Of course he was checking in ahead of their agreed deadline for next week. That was Eli. Overly on top of things, especially when money was involved.
He read the text message a second time with squinted eyes and tongue pressed against his cheek. Which way was he leaning? Nearly a week after their conversation, he truly had no clear direction which way he was leaning. Mounting issues were blocking his path to that light bulb moment. For starters, he still needed to discuss this with Alicia, but at this rate, he didn't know how or if that would happen prior to next week. Not that he was exactly pushing it either.
He glanced over at Zach and Grace chatting idly by the windows in Adam's office then typed a quick reply: I'll let you know next week as agreed.
"So this is where you and Mom come every week?" asked Zach as he perused the colossal frosted, glass bookshelf flanking the corner of the floor to ceiling windows.
"Yep," said Peter, silencing then pocketing his cell phone as he relaxed back against the cushion. "Zach, don't touch anything."
"I wasn't going to."
The teen rolled his eyes and moved away from the bookshelf to avert his attention to Adam's display of prestigious awards on the wall behind his desk. Zach's roaming eyes came to rest on an Outstanding Psychologist Award issued by the American Psychological Association two years ago.
"I guess this guy is a pretty big deal," he said after a moment, gesturing towards the stream of accolades before strolling back over to the seating area.
"Yes. He's good. Really helped me and your mom a lot."
Peter shifted his gaze towards the doorway, wondering when Adam would get back. They arrived early and after quick introductions, along with an overview for today's session and the seating arrangement—another one of Adam's rejigs—the distinguished doctor dipped out to handle an issue with his receptionist.
"Is he going to fix us?" asked Grace, taking the seat opposite her father.
Peter stared at her across from him, his gaze narrowing. More so on the chair positioning than her question. It suddenly occurred to him their seating mimicked a pentagon. Adam was assigned to the top angle, the kids at the two inner angles with he and Alicia reserving the horizontal bottom. This felt more like an entrapment rather than an enclosure of trust, per Adam's earlier explanation.
"Is he going to fix us…" Peter slowly repeated, remembering her comment from dinner the other night. "You still think we're not that great?"
"Dad, it hasn't been perfect for awhile."
He digested her words. "Well, I won't say that he will fix us, but, he will provide insight at the very least."
"Why do we need insight?" asked Zach, settling next to Peter in the adjacent accent chair. "I think we're fine."
Grace pursed her lips at his comment.
"We are for the most part. But considering things as of late, your mom and I want to make sure you two are good as are we as a family. Make sure we're not overlooking anything."
"Like?" asked Zach.
Peter floated his gaze between the two of them, then to door, hoping Adam appeared.
"I don't know, Zach. Whatever is on yours and your sister's minds."
Grace tucked her hair behind her ears, glancing at the empty space beside Peter on the love seat.
"Where is Mom? Shouldn't she be here by now?" she asked impatiently.
Peter checked his watch. Their appointment was scheduled later than usual. Instead of early afternoon, they moved it to a slot for after school.
"Uh, soon. Maybe she got caught in traffic. On my way to pick up you two from school, she called and said she may be late. I—"
"Look who I ran into outside," Adam boasted as he and Alicia strolled into the room. He smiled warmly at the three apprehensive faces looking his way.
Alicia quickly settled next to Peter on the sofa.
"I was expecting you much later," said Peter as he reached an arm back to lie flat behind her atop the cushion.
Alicia crossed her legs and silenced her phone, dropping it into her purse.
"Meeting ended on time," she murmured. She looked to both her children whose expressionless faces indicated they wanted to be anywhere but here. "Hello, you two."
"Hi, Mom," they said in unison.
"Well, this is a treat," said Adam as he sat in his respective chair. He took stock of them all seated in the carefully orchestrated arrangement, hoping that they felt the barrier of trust and safety he tried to create. For it too had an inadvertent role on the outcome of this session.
"Zach," he looked towards the teen boy then to his sister, "Grace, I am pleased to have you both here. Your parents have shared minor details about both of you, and I am looking forward to getting to know you both better."
He set his notepad on the coffee table in front of him and leaned back in the wingback chair, crossing his arms, taking a minute to survey their familial unit.
"Uh," Peter began, smoothing a hand across the base of his neck, "I'll add they're a little hesitant to be here."
Adam caught the hint he was giving and nodded in return. Translation: it would be like pulling teeth to get them to talk.
"Not a problem. Most are usually hesitant during their first therapy session."
Graced bit her lower lip, timidly looking his way. "What are you going to do to us?" she asked.
Adam smiled. "Well, I am not going to do anything to you, so to speak. What I am here to do is facilitate. Whatever issues, problems or worries you may want to express with your family, I will be here to help guide and aid in any misinterpretations from what is shared so that you all hear each other clearly and respectfully."
Grace glanced to her mom, whose eyes were trained on her like a hawk.
Adam observed them all for a minute more, eight pairs of pensive eyes looking his way for instruction. Judging from the state of their silence, this hour might be his hardest yet. Clearing his throat, he picked up his notebook and flipped it open.
"I guess we can clear the floor for discussion and get right to it." He looked to Zach and Grace. "Is there anything either of you would like to discuss with your parents," his eyes cut to Peter and Alicia, "or vice versus?"
Again, they all remained silent, appearing as if each was daring the other to speak first. Adam stabled the book atop his knee and observed each individually, trying to decide whom should he focus on first to break this vow of silence.
Just as he had narrowed his choice, out of the corner of his eye he noticed Grace shifting in her chair thus ending his little game.
"You're sure you're not going to divorce?" asked Grace, breaking the quietude.
Peter looked to Alicia staring back at him, her brows risen in a manner that questioned which of them was going to respond first. He brushed his fingertips against her shoulders, subtly saying she take this one, he'd get the next.
Alicia clasped her hands together and licked her lips. "Dad and I are still working through some problems, but right now, we have no intentions to divorce."
"But you could?"
"Why do you keep thinking we're going to divorce?" She tried to control the sharp inflection of her voice, hoping her impatience with the question didn't transcend on her daughter's ears. But she reacted too quickly; failed. When she saw Grace begin to cower did guilt begin to gnaw at her conscience.
"I can't predict the future, Grace," she said softer. "What I'm saying right now, is that we're trying to make this right."
Grace ingested her response before briefly looking back to Adam then veered her attention to the floor.
"I still don't like the separation," she mumbled.
"We know," Peter said regrettably. "We also know how much of a toll it's taken on you and your brother."
Adam steadily watched her, concern brewing in his eyes for a minute. He then transposed that same scrutiny to Zach who was staring at a picture on the wall, clearly demonstrating no interest to partake in the discussion. His nonchalant demeanor reminded him of Alicia—like mother like son.
"Zach," Adam began. Zach jumped slightly at the same time his head jerked in Adam's direction leading Adam to crack a sly smile. "What are your feelings on your parents' separation?"
"I don't know." He brushed back his hair from his forehead. "I wasn't happy with it at first, but I've gotten used to it."
"Is there anything you feel would make it better for you and your sister?"
"Not really." He folded his arms, slouching in the seat. "I think Grace just wants Mom and Dad to live happily ever after when they may not."
Grace's mouth fell open. "That's not true!"
"It is. You're always going on about how you hope they make up and things go back to normal."
"So? Why is that a bad thing? At least Grandma wouldn't have to watch us anymore if they got back together."
"It's not a bad thing, but it's not the end of the world if they don't."
Alicia shot a nervous look towards Peter, signaling one of them needed to referee.
Peter attempted to intervene. "Okay, kids—"
"You're only saying that because you want them to stay separated so you can keep sneaking out when we stay with Dad."
Alicia's eyes swept back to Peter, whose mouth was now agape.
"Whoa. Grace what are you talking about?" asked Peter.
"I don't sneak out," interrupted Zach. "You had Scott over last week while Dad was at work!"
Alicia's eyes nearly fell from their sockets.
"Shut up!" Grace fired towards her brother.
"Alright, enough," Alicia said tersely. "And don't say shut up." She zeroed in on her daughter as the thump of her own quickening heartbeat resounded loudly in her ears.
"Grace, is that true? Scott came over while Dad was at work?"
Grace shot a scowling look in her brother's direction.
"Grace, answer your mother," said Peter, his voice booming.
Grace fought tears beginning to well in her eyes. "Yes but it was just that one time! He brought me my notebook I left at bible study. That was it. And Grandma was there."
"Grandma was not there," said Zach. "She only saw him leave."
"So! Grandma wasn't there when you had Nisa over one night while Mom worked late," she wailed.
Alicia dropped her head and covered her face with her hands.
Peter leaned forward, his mouth thinned. "Look at me," he said sternly. "Both of you," he added when he saw Grace's lowered head. She quickly raised it to meet his hard gaze. "There will be no more sneaking anyone in or sneaking out; at mine or your mother's apartment. Both of you ask for permission first when you want to have a friend over. Understood?"
Both teens looked at each other before averting their attention downward.
"I didn't get an answer."
"Yes," they mumbled.
Shaking his head, Peter readjusted his tie and leaned back against the seat. "Sorry about that, Dr. Lewis."
Adam's watchful eyes moved from the kids to Peter and Alicia.
"No need to apologize. This," he spread out a hand, "is why we are here. There is no etiquette for how we deliver dialogue in this room, as you know. Zach and Grace, that applies to both of you as well."
They didn't offer to say more, cluing Adam in that he was going to have to take the reigns. He skimmed the brief notes he had taken during their exchange moments ago.
"Circling back to this sneaking out…" He brooded over the repeated phrase for a second. "That is often an act deemed rebellious. Is what your sister said true, Zach? You prefer the current arrangement of your parents' separation so that you can sneak out or sneak someone in?"
Zach exhaled a long sigh. "No. I only snuck out twice and I wasn't rebelling."
"But you went out without telling your parents?"
"Yeah." He causally rolled his shoulders back.
Adam rested his elbows on the arms of his chair. "Why did you choose to go out and not tell your parents?"
"I…wanted to meet up with two of my other friends. Just to hang out." He rolled his eyes. "I knew if I asked they would've said no."
"When was this Zach?" asked Peter. "Recently?"
"No. A few months ago."
Peter stared at him hard while doing the mental calculation. A few months ago was when Zach was caught with—
"Who did you meet up with?"
"Brad and Nick."
Peter laughed in disbelief. "The druggies."
"Dad, they're not druggies."
"Zach, be honest. Have you been going out to drink or smoke with them?"
Alicia watched him closely, her heart pace quickening once again.
"No! I told you before. I'm never doing that again."
"Zach," said Alicia, brushing tendrils of hair back from her face. "Why? Why did you want to be around those boys? They are the reason you were arrested."
"I don't know, Mom. So much has happened in the past year…hanging out with them was...fun. Normal. Anything was normal besides home."
"Meaning?"
"The up and down, Mom. Before Dad got elected then after."
Alicia looked to Peter. From the way he was massaging the muscle in his neck—roughly—she could tell he was taking a needed time out to calm his temper.
"Can you explain what you mean by this…up and down?" asked Adam.
"Inconsistent, I guess. Mom and Dad were back together, then not. Then we started going from one apartment to the other…"
"Do you still feel this split home life is up and down?"
He shrugged. "Not really. It seems fine now. But I don't sneak out anymore and I always ask Mom before Nisa—my girlfriend—comes over." He bore his gaze into Alicia's. "Mom, I swear."
"We'll talk later," she murmured.
"Alicia, please. Share," said Adam.
"No, that's okay. I…I need time to process the last few minutes."
"Fair enough." Picking up his pen, Adam smoothed a crease of a new page. "How about you, Grace? Any underlying reasons for why you invited…Scott over without running it past your parents?"
"As I said before, I needed my notebook," she said nonchalantly.
"He couldn't give it to you at school?" blurted Peter.
"I had a quiz the next day, Dad. I needed it to study." She gulped when she saw the stony gaze in his eyes.
"A-and he came over last week, while I was at work, right?"
"Yes."
"So. He dropped off your notebook, and then left." Peter watched her closely as he said this, remembering the details Alicia revealed to him last week. "You're telling me that's all that happened?"
"Dad, yes!" Grace's eyes flared at the insinuation. "That's all that happened. Nothing else."
Peter removed his arm from behind Alicia and braced his elbows on his knees, studying his children, wondering what else they've done right under their noses.
"Are there other things you two have been doing in secret without telling us?"
Zach looked to his sister—she shook her head—then to his mom. "No," he answered. "But…does this affect me trying for my license tomorrow?"
Alicia flashed him an incredulous look. "Zach."
"Mom it's a valid question," he mumbled.
"We'll think about it," said Peter. Giving him a stern look, Zach flopped back against the chair in defeat.
"Peter, to echo your question," said Adam, "besides sneaking out or sneaking someone in, and your parents' separation, is there anything else, Zach and Grace, either of you need to air to your parents? Or your feelings on them staying together and progressing forward?"
The room grew silent.
"There's nothing else?" Alicia asked, not buying their silence for a minute. "At all?"
Still, they said nothing.
"If there is something either of you want to say, we won't get mad," said Peter, ensuring to keep his voice leveled. "As Dr. Lewis said before, this is why we're all here. To talk about…anything. Good or bad."
Zach pondered the proposal as he sat up straighter and pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie.
"I guess…I wanna know the real reason for the separation after you were elected, Dad. You and Mom explained to us before but," he shrugged, "it didn't sound right. Like you were trying to hide something from us."
Alicia looked to Peter, who glanced at her then back at their son. "Uh, Zach, during that time, your mom and I hit a…rough patch. We decided it was best to work through that separated which is also why we've been coming to see Dr. Lewis."
"What kind of a rough patch?"
Steepling his fingers, Peter breathed deeply. "I wasn't always a good husband to your mom."
"What do you mean?" Zach propped his elbows on the arms of the chair as Alicia shifted uncomfortably. "What happened before was a long time ago. Mom, you stayed."
"Well…" started Peter, clasping his hands together, "there were other things, Zach. Reminders of how I wasn't so good to your mom in the past that were hard for us to…work through. So, we decided it was best to separate and take a breath to evaluate, but going forward," he met Alicia's nervous eyes, "I'm always going to be good to your mom." He looked back to Zach. "Does that help clarify?"
"Yeah. A little."
Peter lowered his head for a potted second, and then lifted it. He never anticipated this line of questioning.
"I think we should, uh…leave that there for now. Alright?"
Zach nodded.
Adam's eyes narrowed at their exchange. He marked and starred a note to revisit this in another session.
"So…if you move back in, you really won't be separated anymore?" asked Zach.
"That's right," said Peter. "Me moving back in still okay with you?"
"Yeah."
Peter looked to his daughter. "Grace?"
"I don't know, Dad," she said somberly.
Alicia and Peter looked at each other, trying to decide who would spearhead this response. Adam noticed their quiet debate, choosing to do them a small favor given the past twenty minutes. He slightly turned to face the younger Florrick, chin in palm.
"What exactly are you not sure of, Grace?" Adam asked gently. When she didn't readily respond, he tried again. "You are unsure on your parents living together again?"
She met his gaze. "Sort of. It's…Dad cheating. It just…wasn't okay."
"We never said it was," Peter stated, his tone heavy with remorse. "I'm not proud of that."
She began to toy with the charms on her bracelet. "You're my parents and I want you to stay together, but it's hard to believe everything will be okay again if you move back in."
Peter sucked in a deep breath as he passed a laden hand over his face.
Alicia watched him, watched Adam and Zach. Seeing none of them make an attempt to respond, she had an unwelcome realization.
This. This was hers to respond.
"Grace, Dad and I have worked really hard to get to this point where we can move past that and focus on the present and future."
"But, Mom, how can you? Dad cheated on you!"
As soon as 'you', left Grace's mouth, it felt as if the air was sucked from Alicia's lungs. She blinked in disbelief, her muscles growing rigid.
"What if it happens again?" Grace continued.
"It won't," Peter said lowly. "I know you probably lost all of your trust in me, but I don't ever intend to hurt your mother or you and your bother that way again. I'm vowing to each of you now, I will never put our family through that again."
"So are we supposed to forgive you and move on like it didn't happen?"
Peter sighed. "No, sweetheart. That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what, Dad?" She looked to Alicia, tears rising in her throat. "Mom, how is that forgivable?"
In the second Alicia robotically met the shattered gaze of her daughter did she become certain her heart was going to pound out of her chest. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, the temperature in the room swelling to an unbearable heat.
And for umpteenth time, silence overruled. Grace's question hung in the air like an axe, poised to slice whomever decided to confront the harsh truth.
"Grace, you think your father's infidelity is unforgivable?" asked Adam, breaking the terse silence.
"It's not forgivable. Technically. In the bible, it's a sin. One of the Ten Commandments is thou shalt not commit adultery. It's only forgivable if Dad repents."
"Repents to you?"
"No. To God."
"So according to your faith, if your father repents, he can be forgiven for his sin. But you cannot forgive your father for his transgressions? Is that what you are implying?" When she looked at him, her face a mixture of exasperation and confusion, he clarified, "Forgive my ignorance on this subject as I haven't attended church regularly since I was a young boy."
She flipped her hair over her shoulders and crossed her legs. "I-I want to forgive him."
Adam flung his leg over his knee, waiting for her to elaborate while sizing up this new weighted silence. No one dared break it for that was probably like a sin itself. Jotting a down a notation, he scanned her seemingly calm but clearly distraught demeanor, then proceeded to reengage.
"You believe in this? The bible, I mean."
She eagerly nodded. "I'm Christian."
Adam adjusted his glasses on his face. "And what does the bible say about a person of your faith offering forgiveness?"
She swallowed hard. "If I forgive Dad of his trespasses, then I will also be forgiven of mine. But if I don't forgive him, then I won't be forgiven of my trespasses."
"To confirm, trespasses are also sins, correct?"
She nodded.
"I see. But you have not reached that point of forgiving your father yet?"
She shook her head.
"What do you think is stopping you from reaching that step?" When she failed to respond, he recalled her previous outburst. "You feel your mother has not forgiven your father?"
She looked at her parents, both visibly still grappling with the words she'd kept buried for so long.
"I don't know. "
"You told me you thought Mom did," piped in Zach.
Alicia wiped away beads of sweat that had formed on her upper lip as she and Peter looked at each other, wondering when they had that conversation.
"I did…I do…I think."
"You've been saying you want Mom and Dad back together, but now you're not sure because you can't forgive Dad?"
"I am sure. But…."
"But what?" Peter asked hoarsely.
She looked at everyone's faces, pivoted in her direction. The spotlight was suddenly on her. She quickly swiped at her eyes, stopping a tear from falling.
"Why did you do what you did with…Amber Madison? Why, Dad?"
A trickle of sweat rolled down a side of Peter's face.
"Grace—" He stopped; the reflection of his failure in her eyes hitting him like a freight train.
They'd never had this type of discussion on the subject. While in prison, he wondered how he would explain his decisions back then if his children ever asked. He never did conjure a defense to win a not guilty verdict from his family. And he probably wouldn't now.
He reached in his breast pocket for a handkerchief to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, still trying to gather his thoughts.
"It's complicated," he finally said.
"How is it complicated?" asked Zach.
Peter grew quiet.
Then tried again. "I…I…"
"I don't see how it's complicated," said Grace. "When we lived in Highland Park, everything seemed fine. Until Mom lost the baby. And then you cheated on her." She frowned in disgust.
Alicia felt as if the walls of the room were starting to crumble, one by one.
What section of the parenting manual did this fall under?
So much of being a parent meant protecting your children. The last few years, above all, she made sure she practiced that—to shield them as much as possible from harrowing rumors and unbearable truths. In fact, she was probably overprotective in her attempts. But hearing the words fly out of her daughter's mouth now, made her think that Grace was probably right when she said before: Mom, you need to protect us more.
Clearly she didn't protect them enough.
She couldn't respond nor put to rest her children's qualms when it was obvious they needed to hear her voice. Mentally, she'd checked out minutes ago. Her body had grown numb. A physical response to the unfiltered truths being spewed. She felt she had no control. Her head pounded in sequence with lightheadedness. Nausea began to tornado in her stomach.
"Grace," Peter said cautiously, "after your mom had the miscarriage…things…happened."
"I know," she said bitterly. "Mom was sick for like, months. You wouldn't tell us what was really wrong."
Peter fleetingly shut his eyes in a fit defeat.
"The miscarriage took a toll on your mother," he said gravely, the muscles in his back knotting once he saw the sadness in both their eyes. "The recovery was hard. You saw that." He looked to Zach. "You both saw that. And I'm sorry I didn't explain things better back then, but it was a shock for all of us."
"But Dad, after that…when Mom was better, everything came out about what you did." Grace trained her eyes to the floor. "If you really loved us, I don't understand how you could have done those things."
Alicia exhaled a repetition of deep breaths, the sudden tightness in her chest making it difficult to breathe.
About to prompt another question, Adam shifted his attention to the one person that could remedy this or at minimum, alleviate the kids' anguish. His usually quiet patient wasn't suited in her expected, composed armor. Instead, she looked as if she was about to pass out at any second. His brows stitched together as he steadied his notebook on his lap and lowered his glasses to the bridge of his nose.
"Alicia, are you alright?" asked Adam.
Peter sharply looked her way; angling his body to face her, worry filling his gaze.
Her clammy palms repeatedly gripped the cushion of the sofa as she tried to calm her body. Chills ran through her limbs. Her heart tripped to an alarmingly fast pace so quick she feared she was going to faint.
Feeling a tidal wave of nausea rush from her stomach to her throat, Alicia cut her eyes to her husband, vehemently shaking her head.
The bile was within her throat now, aching for release.
"Honey?" said Peter, reaching out to place a hand on her thigh.
Covering her mouth, Alicia practically leapt from the couch and made a beeline towards the en-suite half-bathroom. Slamming the door and locking it, she fell to her knees in front of the toilet, lifted the lid and emptied her stomach.
#
Alicia gripped the sides of the cold porcelain bowl, dry-heaving. Her vision was blurry; the throbbing in her head so intense it felt like her skull would split in two.
Mere minutes ago, one of her worst fears had come to life. Funny, that in the many scenarios she envisioned how she would confront and survive this nightmare, hunched over a toilet wasn't remotely on the list of drafts.
Through her fog, she heard Grace and Peter on the other side of the door, their voices practically drowned out by pressure in her ears while she continued to dry-heave into the toilet.
She thought—tried to think anyway—how did this, here now in this bathroom, happen? She'd passed all checkpoints that led to now so fast it was hard to process.
To control.
Her teen years consisted of these idiopathic attacks. It started as anxiety, and its stream of common side effects from the body-overwhelmed by adrenaline in the bloodstream. At times, when she reflected on these attacks as an adult, she associated those episodes back then in part due to her parents divorce. It was a rough time for all. Eventually, they tapered off in her later teen and early adulthood years.
So why now had her anxiety been triggered and escalated into a full-blown panic attack? Particularly one of this magnitude.
She hadn't had one like this since…well she couldn't remember it had been so long. But this one…likely sparked from hearing her daughter's pain, hearing the reminder of the miscarriages that tore her to pieces—tore their family to pieces— shook her very core.
It was too much. She wanted to cry, vomit and scream at the same time.
For as long as she lived, she would never forget today; the questions Grace hurled her way, the painful look in her eyes...voice. Now she understood. Their family wasn't broken.
Her daughter was.
Dad cheated on you…how is that forgivable?
Tremors rattled her body as she slowly leaned upright and pressed the circular button to flush. She loosely gripped the sides of the bowl, the lingering but faint stench causing her to reel back slightly. Her wet eyes floated to the door and then down to the sloshing water, watching it come to a still, its metallic-chlorine scent piercing her unwavering nausea.
She didn't want to leave the safety of this room. For on the other side, she would have to replay—and confront—how she failed as a mother. Failed to set an ideal example for her children, especially her daughter. She was just strong enough to weather hearing strangers remind her of Peter's infidelity. But to hear it from the mouths of her children was plainly unbearable.
"Mom?" It was Grace. "May I come in?"
Alicia saw the doorknob jingle, grateful that in her haste, she somehow remembered to lock it.
"Grace—" And Peter.
"Dad, I want to help her."
She listened to them bicker as she struggled to fight gravity and stand.
Oh, her sweet baby girl Grace.
She'd been attached to her since she was a baby and so maternal. Even when she was pregnant before, Grace was itching to dote on her, always wanting to rub her belly.
When I was pregnant.
Alicia stared at herself in the mirror for what felt like an eternity. More chills raked her frame and teeth slightly chattered.
That time rushed back to her without warning—good and bad. No matter the layers of peace Adam tried to deploy and help her work through that dark time in their lives, at a single reminder, she vividly relived it.
Relived their joy during the first ultrasound.
Relived her body changing. Morning sickness. Flutters in her belly.
Relived her children's hesitant enthusiasm about a younger sibling. Peter positively on cloud nine.
Happiness the constant undertone of their elation for a time.
Then…cramps. Blood. There was so much blood.
And pain.
So much pain.
"Alicia," called Peter.
It sounded like he shouted her name, immediately snapping her back to the present. He was on the brink—she heard it by the higher bass in his voice—and if she didn't open the door soon he was likely to do something unthinkable. Kick it down, perhaps. She wouldn't put it past him. He has always been protective of her, overprotective of their family.
Reaching for one of the stacked, small disposable cups from a side table, she pushed the memories back to their safe place in the recesses of her brain, rinsed out her mouth and then splashed water on her face. Quickly dabbing her skin with a towel and wiping away streaks of mascara, she unlocked the door, then closed the toilet lid and sat. She wasn't quite ready to walk out yet.
"Grace can come in," she said weakly.
She heard their muffled exchange, not caring if Peter was mad or not at her choice. The last thing she wanted to face right now was his fire drill of questions. Their daughter would at least be gentler in her pestering.
"Mom," Grace gushed as soon as she opened the door.
Alicia looked at Peter standing in the doorway, Zach peering around him from behind. She held his gaze for a second, nodding to say she was fine before he reluctantly pushed Zach back and closed the door.
Grace knelt on the floor beside her. "You look terrible."
"Thanks," Alicia said wryly.
"Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?"
"No." She waved away her concern. "I remembered I didn't have breakfast this morning and not much for lunch either."
"Let's leave so we can get you some food." She started to rise from the floor. Alicia grabbed her hand, pulling her back.
"After, Grace. I need to…" A ripple of nausea filled her stomach; she inhaled a breath. "…sit, for a minute."
Grace nodded and lowered herself back down to the floor, tightening her grip on her hand. She watched her mother; eyes closed while she slowly rubbed her stomach with her free hand and took long breaths. Remorse started to eat away at her conscience the longer she sat. This was all her fault. If she wouldn't have divulged what she had…
"Mom, I'm so sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to make you upset."
"Sweetheart, it's okay. This," Alicia panned a hand around the bathroom, "isn't your fault. And I don't want you to ever apologize for voicing how you feel about something."
Grace stared into her tired eyes, wanting to believe that. "Mom, really. I'm sorry. I know you don't like to talk about the baby," she mumbled, lowering her head.
The baby.
Another painful reminder that there wasn't just one, but two. A secret they never told their kids.
Was that also her failure as a parent?
"It's okay," she whispered. Alicia gently cupped her chin, blinking away tears. She wanted to say more, felt a pressing need deep in her abdomen to say more. To comfort her daughter's visible torment. But right now it felt next to impossible.
Instead, she said, "It's not your fault, I promise. I neglected taking care of myself today. That's all."
"Are you sure?"
Alicia tearfully nodded. "I am. Are you okay?"
"I am now. Well...are you positive you're not upset at what I said?"
"No, Grace. I'm not upset at what you said. I could never be upset with you about that." Alicia arched a brow. "Though, I am upset to have learned Scott came to Dad's apartment."
Grace opened her mouth then closed it.
Alicia slightly smiled. "Uh huh. We'll talk when we get home."
"Okay," Grace murmured, smoothing a hand down her back. "I think you should see a doctor first though."
Alicia cracked a smile. "Now who's the mother?"
Grace looked unsure.
To qualm her fears, Alicia slowly rose from the toilet, taking a second to steady herself. Releasing a breath, she attempted to mentally calm the wave like nausea rolling in the pit of her stomach again, hoping it ceased. She didn't have the energy for another round of vomiting.
Plastering the best smile she could muster on her face, she turned and reached for Grace's hand and led them back into the room.
Zach began to rise from his seat when he saw them emerge. Grace plopped back in her chair.
"Mom, are you okay?" he asked.
With a curt nod, Alicia held up a hand, signaling for him to stay seated. "I'm fine."
Peter eyed her without a word. She caught his intense gaze as she sat down next to him, knowing what he was thinking before she even asked.
"But you don't look so good," said Zach.
Alicia looked to her son and opened her mouth in an attempt to dispel his observation when that sweeping wave of nausea intensified. She shut her mouth the second she felt it start to incessantly water. Though she hadn't had one of these episodes in a long time, she also forgot how they could go on for unpredicted amounts of time. She swallowed and closed her eyes for a brief second, willing it to pass.
"Alicia," said Adam, removing his glasses and setting his notebook on the table in front of him, "I can phone a colleague on the fortieth floor to have you examined right now if you would like. She is ranked as one of the top family physicians in the city."
Peter started, "I think that's a great—"
"No!" When she saw their puzzled looks cast her way, she licked her lips, replying softer, "Thank you, Dr. Lewis. It is very kind of you to offer, but that won't be necessary."
Adam eyed her for a minute more. "Very well. Then, we can end the session now for today. Go take care of yourself. We can resume this at another time."
The temperature in the room felt as if it was rising again as all eyes fell on her. In a haze, she nodded as she reached down for her purse and rose from the chair, walking behind the kids out the door to get their coats from reception. She heard Peter's brief apologies and goodbyes to Dr. Lewis before feeling his hand on her lower back in an instant, holding her steady against his side.
"We'll take the kids home and then we'll go see your doctor," he whispered in her ear.
"Peter, I don't need to see a doctor. I'm fine."
He peered into her ashen face. "You're not. You may have put on a brave face in there and told the kids that but I know better."
"Please." She knew she sounded like she was begging and hated it, but also knew he wouldn't drop it otherwise. "I just want to go home."
Sighing, he slowed his steps, eyeing Zach and Grace by the elevator then peered down at her.
"Are you sure?"
"I am. I forgot to have a proper meal today. Having something to eat and then lying down will help."
He did an once-over of her frame, seeming to contemplate her answer before sighing.
"Alright. Then…I'm going to take Grace for a drive. I know the timing is bad, but considering…" He glanced back in the direction of Adam's office then met her gaze. "She and I need to talk. I don't feel this should wait."
Alicia's eyes filled with worry. "Peter, we need to talk to them together."
"I know. And we will later this evening. But she and I need to talk without an audience. After what she said today, I'm sure you agree." She reluctantly gave a slight nod. "So it's okay with you?"
She swallowed, looking at their children now bickering about who knows what. Out of the two of them, Grace had internalized their situation over the past few years much more than her brother, more than she and Peter realized. The longer she watched them she was reminded of her and Owen at their ages. How much they acted like them in ways.
Chiefly during the time centered on her parents' divorce.
How had she missed the uncanny way they resembled she and Owen then?
Zach was more casual in the way he responded and accepted it all like Owen versus how Grace compartmentalized those confusing emotions, as did her teenage self.
"Yes." She turned back to Peter. "It's okay with me. I hope it's okay with her, too."
He frowned at her words. It was like another unwelcome punch to his gut he'd taken all afternoon. Though he was sure it was harmless, it was also a subtle reminder of how he was still a failure in his daughter's eyes.
"Sure you're okay to drive?" His gaze swept over her frame a final time.
"I am. But I'll let Zach drive back anyway. Let him enjoy having his permit a little longer."
He began to steer them towards the elevator. "Alright. We'll see you back at your apartment later."
Nodding, she swallowed, trying to remember why she insisted on a family session in the first place. If today had come with a warning, she would have said no.
Because today, is the last time they ever do this.