132. Once again-no proofing, probably many errors. Air hugs!

At the beginning of the third full week of lockdown, Ed started a routine of doing push ups, situps, lunges, and tricep dips. Between sets, he did anywhere between twenty and thirty jumping jacks and added in a few lunges. Over the years, he went through spurts of being committed to exercise, only to eventually give in to long working hours, evenings at bars, and take-out food. Now that he couldn't hit a gym, he desperately wanted to do so. The Tuckers were all dealing with quarantine in their own ways. The twins began each morning by tossing their stuffed animals across the room to one another; however, rather than monsters in the middle, animals that fell to the carpet instead fell victim to the "vy'us." Noah wrote a letter a day to either Sarah, Brooke, or Caroline. Olivia attempted to ignite a passion for cooking. Ed's coping mechanism turned out to be physical fitness. The entire family always looked forward to the seven o'clock shift change cheer.

No matter how their day unfolded, Ed refused to skip a workout session. Most nights, he waited until ten or eleven o'clock, when he and Olivia traded the living room for their bedroom. Very quickly, one of Olivia's favorite sights became that of her husband's muscles rippling, his veins pressing against the skin, as he furiously pounded out his sets. She typically sat on the bed, closer to his side, reading a book or a magazine but mostly sneaking glimpses of her husband. Part of her was tempted to worry-she was keenly aware of his fear of his own mortality-but it was easier, for now, to enjoy the show.

Ed grunted out a few final reps and stood up. He wiped his brow and Olivia noticed the collar of his shirt darkened from perspiration. It was funny, she thought, how the sight of any other sweaty, breathless, middle-aged man would probably repulse her, but her desire for Ed was off the charts. "You're getting ripped," she remarked flirtatiously.

He tried to seem unaffected, but couldn't stop the proud smirk from crossing his face. "Think so?"

"I do," Olivia sat up and patted the side of the bed. Ed sat down and she kissed him. "Need some water or anything?"

"I'll get it," he said, "And I'm gonna get in the shower. You, uh, wanna join?"

"Yes."

He caressed her face. His touch was full of tenderness and affection, and his eyes were all-consuming, a non-physical but no less satisfying embrace. "How ya feelin?"

"Believe it or not, I'm good."

"I always believe you."

Olivia almost sassily called him a liar, but his expression was so earnest she didn't have the heart so say it, even in jest. She sat up and massaged one of his biceps. She wasn't being gratuitous with her earlier compliments. The workouts were yielding fast results. "C'mon," she kissed his cheek. His skin was still hot and a little damp. "Let's get that shower."

…

St. Patrick's Old Cathedral, on the Lower East Side, offered candlelit tours of its catacombs in order to raise money for the facility's upkeep and to maintain its decades-old cemetery. Olivia had heard of the tours in passing, but during one of the recent investigations, she passed the covered kiosk on Prince Street, picked up a brochure, and immediately thought of Ed. He loved history, particularly that of the city. Whenever he picked up a novel, it was almost always historical fiction. Taking him on the tour would be the perfect date.

"Goin' to mass?" He asked facetiously as they approached the basilica.

"Sure," Olivia replied, "No harm in a little religion, right?"

Ed grunted good-naturedly. His face screwed up in confusion when they passed the church's entrance.

"The tour starts across the street. In the visitor's center."

After a brief introduction, a tour guide led the small group of ten back across Prince Street to the cemetery and then into the sanctuary. They marveled at the elaborate pipe organ, the stained glass windows, and the nineteenth-century craftsmanship. When it was time to enter the catacombs, each person was given a battery-operated candle on which the words I WALKED THE CATACOMBS BY CANDLELIGHT was printed. The narrow, low-ceilinged space, even invaded by a chatty group like theirs, was eerie. Ed held Olivia's hand as they meandered up and down the halls and inspected inscriptions of names, many of which Ed recognized as Irishmen who were integral to the city's early development.

"Lookit that," he murmured at one point, "O'Connor-one of 'em ran for President, his son edited The Shamrock-"

"-The Shamrock?"

"The first Irish newspaper in New York."

His casual delivery of the obscure fact heightened her desire to be close to him. She let her body fall off-balance and playfully collided with him. Sensing she liked his commentary, he added another detail about another O'Connor who fought in the Civil War. "Pretty fascinating," he added, "came here with nothing but the clothes on their back and they ended up buried here with the upper crust of society. Big deal."

Growing quiet, Olivia's thoughts drifted to her mother's large headstone. She remembered taking great pains in selecting the shape, the material, and, most importantly, the words. Families of the people entombed in the catacombs also had the fortune of having those decisions already made for them. Her thoughts were interrupted by the tour guide who asked everyone to make their way to the exit. He gave a quick debrief and a thank-you and ended with an awkward plea for tips. Ed slid a ten dollar bill from his wallet and dropped it in the bucket.

"Where to now, Benson?" He asked, hoping this wasn't the extent of their time together. He always respected her time with Noah and at work, but he never wanted their dates to end.

"There's a tiny place down there on Mott. I actually had to talk to one of their employees the other day, which was why I was down here. Want to try it?"

"Sure." Olivia took his arm and the familiar jolt of energy coursed through his body. "So, you, uh, stumbled across this tour when you were working?"

"I did. I'd heard of it before, I think I read something in the paper, but I picked up the brochure and it seemed like something you'd enjoy."

Ed's entire body and soul nearly exploded. She'd thought of him. While on the job. She was busy but stopped to take a piece of touristy literature, read it, and buy tickets online. Managing to control his utter elation, he gave her a clumsy kiss on the side of the head. "You were dead on," he said softly. "Thank you."

…

Most of the Tucker kids' toys fell into and out of favor quickly, but there were a few items that were mainstays. Two of those stalwarts were Wyatt's workbench and Maggie's kitchen, sets gifted to the twins for their first Christmas when they were seven months old. The two sets sat next to one another on the window side of the room. At first, the workbench and kitchen served mostly as a way for the babies to make noise, and, eventually, pull themselves into standing positions. As they got older, Maggie and Wyatt gradually started to actually mimic food preparation and carpentry as they understood those tasks to work. The accessories migrated back and forth. At any given moment, a hammer or a wrench might be stowed in the oven and pots and pans doubled as receptacles for chunky plastic screws and bolts. The kitchen and the workbench had the potential to be endlessly entertaining and useful.

"Whatcha makin?" Noah asked Maggie one quiet, dreary afternoon after he'd gotten bored with books, puzzles, and his trains. Olivia wasn't sure if it was because he was still too young or if he had a natural aversion to video games, but Noah wasn't a child who ran for a phone or tablet when he was searching for something to do.

"Pizza, No!" Maggie held up a frying pan inside of which was a plastic slice of pepperoni and cheese pie.

"Yum! Dat looks good, Maggs. C'I have a bite?"

"Hot, No! C'ful!" Despite the warning, Maggie handed over the slice and Noah took a bite.

"S'good! Thanks Maggs!"

Maggie grinned, swiped the slice from Noah, and put it back in the pan.

"Hey," Noah said brightly, "Wanna real pizza?"

Maggie babbled a few sentences which Noah took to mean she wanted to eat some actual pizza. He ran into his parents' room and asked Olivia for her phone. She was in a Zoom meeting with her editor discussing a possible follow up to her first book and absent-mindedly handed the iPhone over to Noah. He expertly punched in her code and strolled back into the living room.

"Daddy, want some pizza?" He asked.

Earlier, when Maggie adamantly refused to lie down for a nap, Ed decided to let her go without. He turned on the television and found a documentary he'd been watching. Wyatt, feeling left out but still very much ready for sleep, curled up with him and quickly conked out. The narrator's monotone voice coupled with the weight of Wyatt's little body caused Ed to doze off as well. So, he heard Noah, but he didn't exactly grasp the full scope of what he was asking.

"Yeah, bud," Ed replied in garbled fashion.

Concentrating hard, Noah tapped the app he'd seen Sarah use so many times before. He scrolled, studying the options, and selected the logo of a familiar pizza place. With the generous amount of pictures, simple language, and stored credit cards, Noah easily ordered two large pizzas and one single can of Cherry Pepsi. The delivery estimate popped up and he told Maggie they had only thirty minutes until their food arrived.

"Wanna play bowling 'til it gets here?" Noah asked his sister.

Maggie dropped her spatula. She loved bowling. "Knock 'em dow!"

Noah grinned, grateful for a willing partner in crime since the rest of his family members were useless at the moment. "Lessgo. I'll letcha go first."

…..

What experts had predicted as a terrifying, catastrophic storm, in the end, merely slapped at the Delaware coast, but it did so over the course of several hours, slowing down to less than five miles per hour. It was late morning before Olivia allowed Ed to remove the shutter covering their french doors and the kids practically ran them over in their dash onto the back porch. However, the view was met with major disappointment.

"Looks the same," Noah said.

"The same," Maggie murmured.

Wyatt crinkled his nose and squinted against the hazy sky. It wasn't bright, but after being cooped up in veritable darkness for almost twenty-four hours, the muted sunlight was a shock to his eyes. "Some trees are down," he said, "A lot of branches...a lot of trash."

Ed followed Wyatt's gaze to the spot where the sea grass met the huge swath of sand leading to the shoreline. Black garbage bags weighed down by puddles of water pockmarked the landscape as did various other debris. "Let's go get 'em," Ed said.

The family dutifully followed Ed to the beach and they spent the next hour or so meandering around, clearing the sand of litter. They were so focused on the task that no one realized how far they'd wandered from home until they were in front of one of their favorite beach bars, which the often debating visiting via car rather than on foot. The owner, a retired firefighter, was on the deck, cleaning up, and he called out.

"Hey, Ed! C'mon over!"

Kevin Shaughnessy's family, Olivia assumed, hailed from the same part of Ireland as Ed's. They had similar features and mannerisms. She could tell they'd been raised in very similar households, an assumption confirmed when she eventually learned his parents immigrated a few years before the Tuckers and settled in an enclave in New Jersey. They had come to know Kevin as they visited Bethany Beach more frequently, but also because they tended to visit his beach bar at off-peak times when Kevin had a chance to come out and greet customers.

"You survived," Ed said as he and Kevin shook hands. Ed watched carefully as Kevin greeted Olivia with an extremely chaste kiss on the cheek. "Wasn't as bad as we all thought."

"Thank God," Kevin said, "We haven't had a hurricane hit here, well, since well before I lived here, so I haven't bothered with shutters or anything other than extra insurance. Power flickered, we're checking the freezers and everything now, but we're ready to be up and running. Want a drink?"

"Yes!" Maggie said. It was hot and humid and she was ready for a break.

Olivia hugged Maggie to her side. "A drink would be great. Thanks."

"C'we sit here?" Wyatt asked, pointing at their favorite table at the corner of the deck. It was huge, round, and perfect for their family of five.

Kevin chuckled at the adorable request. There were no other patrons. They had no competition for tables, yet Wyatt thought to ask about seating. "You bet you can, pal," Kevin said, "I'll send someone over. We can do some food, just give us a little while." He hurried away before Ed or Olivia could decline his offer. A minute later, a familiar waitress arrived to take their drink orders even though she could probably have predicted them.

It was not yet noon. Bloody Marys for Olivia and Ed. (they would probably switch to beer later)

Ginger ale for Noah

The same for Maggie.

Shirley Temple for Wyatt (he wasn't ashamed to still order the "baby drink" as his sister called it, even though she asked for five cherries in her ginger ale).

They toasted to surviving a hurricane and sat in peaceful silence until two young men came jogging along with a volleyball in their hands.

"People!" Noah said with a hint of witty sarcasm Olivia was sure he'd picked up from Ed.

"They're gonna play volleyball," Maggie said, sitting up in her chair. One of the reasons the kids loved this spot so much was the presence of two beach volleyball courts which typically hosted nonstop action. Ed and Olivia appreciated the courts, too. They provided a continuous distraction and often allowed them to sneak some date night vibes into family lunches and dinners.

The two men hit the ball back and forth for a few minutes and were soon joined by two others. A friendly game ensued, but the Tucker kids watched as if it were the Olympics. The heat and humidity were ramping up and Ed's skin felt sticky as he kissed Olivia's cheek. "Wanna take the boat out before we start taking the shutters down?"

"That'd be really nice. No rush to take them down, but I want to do it today. I need some sunlight inside."

"Let's do it first then so we're not rushed to get back."

"Okay."

"And we're hiring someone for upstairs."

"Right."

Olivia grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him close enough for a kiss. "I need you safe, Ed Tucker."

Ed grinned, kissed her again then another time, which was more passionate and caused Olivia to gasp. He smirked. "Be good to sleep in our bed tonight," he whispered. The night of the hurricane they'd gotten little sleep and what they did get happened on the living room furniture. As much as he loved curling up with Olivia on the sofa, Ed hated sleeping anywhere other than their bed. He thought about the times he and Noah and sometimes Wyatt made a trip to the beach for a night to do some beginning or end of season maintenance. The boys loved these short trips. Ed always treated them to junk food, let them drive the jet skis, and gave them the run of the house. They ate oysters at Kevin's beach bar and played cards on the back porch. But when the boys went to bed, Ed lingered outside and waited an hour or so before calling Olivia. He had trouble sleeping without her by his side, but hearing her voice late at night helped. Eventually, he would trudge upstairs and collapse on the mattress, but being under the covers alone never felt right, and it never would.

….

The pizza was a surprise.

"Liv? You ordered pizza?" Ed was truly confused. Olivia had been adamant that they cook and use their ingredients before their grocery stock rotted or before her desire for cooking waned.

"No…" Olivia emerged from the bedroom a little dazed. The Zoom meeting lasted longer than she's predicted. "Why?"

"Pizza's downstairs."

Noah skipped over, "I ordered da pizza, Daddy!"

Ed scratched his scalp. Olivia screwed up her face. "You ordered pizza?" She asked sweetly.

"Yup! With your phone. Daddy said I could."

Realizing what happened, Ed broke into soft laughter. "Didja tip 'em bud?"

Confused, Noah shrugged.

Olivia was still puzzled.

Ed let the doorman know the pizza delivery was legit. He grabbed his wallet and made his way toward the door.

Olivia looked at Noah.

"I ordered with da app," he said. "Me an' Maggs wanted some pizza and Daddy said okay."

Still fuzzy on the progression of events, Olivia chose not to ask any more questions. Pizza did sound good and the twins were bouncing around in the foyer with Ed, eagerly awaiting the food. Chicken nuggets and pizza competed for the top spot on their favorite foods list, and they understood that deliveries more often than not meant gooey pepperoni and cheese were coming onto their plates. Olivia felt a tap on her waist.

"Here's your phone, Mommy."

"Thank you, sweet boy."

"You wanna eat some pizza?"

Olivia gazed into his bright blue eyes and smiled. "Yes, sweetie. I really want to eat some pizza. Let's get the plates."

….

#Tuckson