A/N: This is a bit of a teaser. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things for some of my other stories. Remember, this story is pretty light hearted though there's a bit of a twist ahead. For now, enjoy and soon you'l get more. Just gonna fine the time to write.
"Why am I in this ridiculous dress and why am I blindfolded?" Olivia nearly howls. Her left hand is tucked into Abby's right and her right-hand squeezes Frankie's left.
"Mom, you ask too many questions!" Frankie declares. Olivia doesn't need to see her daughter to hear the exasperation in the girl's voice.
"If you'd answer one of my questions or at least let me take off this blindfold, I wouldn't have to ask so many questions," Olivia shoots back. She feels Abby squeeze her hand.
"Liv, we're not going to kill you. You aren't going to a firing squad. It's a surprise. One you deserve so shut up and keep walking." Abby huffs.
The ground underneath Olivia changes from cement to grass and she nearly yelps as the heels Abby made her put on sink into the ground. "Where are you two taking me? What is happening? Just—"
"Oh my god, mom, just shut up for a minute. You're going to mess up the surprise!"
"Francesca Pope, did you just tell me to shut up? What the hell—" Olivia's words are cut short as the scarf over her eyes is ripped away.
The world staggers in as her eyes adjust to her surroundings. She's in an elaborate garden with a cement walkway that leads to a large gazebo. Lavender crepe paper wraps around crème crepe paper that spirals around the gazebo's walls. Strings of gold lights wrap around the gazebo's beams. Olivia's eyes move along the decorations, catching faux fireflies and butterflies before moving down the pathway. Ornate lanterns line the path on each side. There's a DJ tucked into the back corner and in the other back corner there's an arch way of crème balloons against a lavender backdrop sparked in gold. A big PROM sign rests behind the balloons. A photograph's setup rests in front of backdrop. Oliva's eyes keep moving and she spots a couple of lavender and crème colored tables and a long table filled with food. She tilts her head in confusion until Fitz steps in front of her. Much like her, he's overdressed, too. He's in a jet-black suit with a lavender bow tie. Olivia looks down at the plunging neckline of the floral lace bodice of her dress that phases out into a lightweight skirt. The dress is an ombre of lavender and crème with the top being mostly crème.
"Fitz, what's going on?" she asks.
"Well, the other night while we were watching Ten Things I Hate About You – great movie, by the way – you told me you didn't get to go to your prom."
Olivia's brows furrow. "So, you did this?" she concludes as Frankie lets go of her hand.
"I had a good deal of help." He nods in Frankie's direction. Frankie stands, hands on her hips with an arrogant 'I told you mom' look.
"And me."
Olivia turns at the sound of the voice to find Karen Grant. The strawberry blonde smiles wide.
"And me," Abby adds.
Tears spring up in Olivia's eyes and now it all makes sense. Frankie had been adamant that she took the day off and Abby had to nearly wrestle her into this dress. "Oh God, you all didn't have to do this."
"There's a horse that has presents, mom. Why are you looking at its chin?" Frankie asks. The little girl who's the spitting image of her mother is clearly fed up with answering questions. Even if her wording for the idiom is shaky at best.
"That's don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Poppy," Abby corrects. She steps away from Olivia and rests her hands, on Frankie's shoulders.
Olivia laughs at her daughter's word choice and wipes at her eyes. "I don't know what to say."
"Say that you'll get smashed on the booze I stuck in the punch bowl, dance until you almost throw up because that dress is too pretty to throw up on, and then burn a hole in Professor Grant's floor while getting rug burn in places you didn't even know you had. Seriously. Go f-u-c-k that man…" Abby says as she leans in.
Olivia's eyes grow wider and wider at her comments. "Abby! Frankie!"
"It's not just Frankie, ew." Karen scrunches her nose. "I agree with Ms. Abby on everything but that last thing. I don't want to know about that, and I just really want you to stay away from my room if that's where you two are…"
Heat buds in Olivia's cheeks. She ducks her head as she brings it up, Fitz catches her eyes. His cheeks are tinted pink, too. He clears his throat.
"Abigail, I think we agreed to me bankrolling a night out for you and the girls?" Fitz says with a tight smile.
"Oh, you definitely did, dad," Karen answers. She holds out her hand, eyes twinkling. He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a stack of bills. He pulls a hundred from the stack, handing it to Karen before pulling another and handing it to Frankie. "As promised for your work, m'ladies."
Olivia's mouth drops open as Frankie takes the bill and holds it up towards the golden lamps that lit the backyard. She crumples the bill up and tucks it into the tiny fanny pack around her waist. "Fitz, you can't give her that much money. She's –"
Fitz holds up a hand. "Abigail is going to take it and put it away in Frankie's bank. I promised Frankie she could get the same cut as Karen. It's okay."
"I got Poppy, Liv. You go enjoy your night. All of your night." Abby winks.
Olivia's eyes move from Abby to Frankie and finally they stop on Fitz. He has that half grin on his face that makes her knees slightly weak and he looks far beyond excited at the prospect of having her alone. And truthfully, Olivia's excited by that thought, too. She fidgets in place, touching one of the heat-styled curls that Abby nearly tacked to her head.
"What do you say, Livvie? Me, you, prom. My backyard. All you have to do is stay and dance with me." Fitz lifts a hand, holding it out for her to take.
Her fingers shake as she glances over to her friend who nods. Her eyes fall to Frankie and the little girl grins, cheeks swelling up just like her mothers.
"Let's be teens again," Fitz whispers.
Olivia nods. She slips her hand into his.
"Come on girls, let's go." Abby says. The shuffling of heels and sandals against pavement is white noise to Olivia as she settles into Fitz's arms. This is all a bit ridiculous to her, she won't lie. She hasn't been eighteen in almost seven years and though she'd missed Prom, she'd never thought she'd have a do-over.
"It's just me and you tonight," Fitz says.