133.

Brooke burst into laughter when Ed told her the story of Noah ordering pizza. The corners of her eyes crinkled and her rosy cheeks puffed out. On camera, her perfectly white teeth that had never needed braces sparkled as if they'd recently been polished. It was a relief to see her in good spirits. Ed had an extra appreciation for FaceTime and video conferencing software-Brooke was extremely well-skilled at sounding happy, but she was not as good as masking true emotions in her face and her body language.

"Oh my God," she said, wiping tears from under her eyelids. "How did he know what to do? I mean, I guess, why wouldn't he, I'm sure he's seen it before, but...he always follows rules, it's so funny he went ahead and ordered without real permission."

"I think he prioritized gettin' pizza for Maggie," Ed surmised. Like Brooke's, his face was flushed. He was sure they'd be laughing about Noah's first solo delivery order for years to come.

"Remind me to stop storing my credit cards soon."

"Yeah. Lesson learned." Ed stretched his legs out on the ottoman. He was alone in the bedroom while Olivia put the twins down for their nap and Noah started the next Boxcar Children book. A few nights ago, they admitted they both could use some alone time during the day, so they designated this particular two-hour block as such and alternated days each was on nap enforcement duty. "How is Sof? Good to have her home I bet."

The smile lingered on Brooke's face. "So good. I was honestly worried she wouldn't remember me or she'd whine for Sarah or Justin," she chuckled sarcastically, "But she seems glad to be home and with us."

"Of course she does," Ed replied gently, "Nothin' like being home with Mommy and Daddy. Although, it is kinda difficult staying in, not having anywhere to go."

"Have you been going for walks?"

"We have, but, I can tell, Liv's always on edge. There's no telling who's gonna come out of a store and cough or sneeze, even with the masks. And the science...seems like we learn something new about transmission everyday. For Liv, though, those memories of the ER with Noah and Wyatt needing oxygen when he was born are still pretty vivid."

Brooke nodded sympathetically and tilted her head to the right, a move both she and Sarah employed prior to making an important point. "And I'm sure she's worried about you, too."

What she didn't say but Ed detected anyway was that both she and her sister had discussed and were concerned about the virus possibly infecting their father and being too much for his already-weathered lungs to fight. "We're being careful," he said reassuringly, "Everything's delivered, wiped down...I dunno what else we can do. I was thinkin' about maybe going to the house, but maybe that's risky-a road trip, we'd have to stock up on everything, but at least the kids would have a yard to run around in."

"Dad, it's February."

"True. We'll see how this goes. How stir crazy we get."

"And would you want to be that far away from Grandma?"

"Not right now, no." Ed smiled at his first born, "Good point."

He propped the iPad on a side table while he crossed the room for his glass of water, giving Brooke a view of his entire body. When he sat back down again, she asked, "Have you been working out?"

Ed coughed and barely managed to swallow the water. "Yeah, why?"

"Your arms," she said, giggling, "They're huge!"

…..

The news felt like a gut punch followed by successive slaps of terror. In his mind, Ed knew it was only a matter of time before he knew someone affected by Covid, but he never expected the first victim to be family. With Brooke recovered and not officially labeled as suffering from Corona, Ed remained in denial. However, his brother John had tested positive for the virus. He wasn't sick enough to be admitted to the hospital, but it was almost certain his wife and college-aged kids would eventually be afflicted. For the first time since President Harris declared a National State of Emergency, Caroline sounded jittery. Ed dug deep and responded unflinchingly.

"Ma, we're going to get through this," he said, "I'll call, see if they need us to do anything. But, it's important, you gotta stay home, alright? Anything John needs, we can get it, but you've got to stay home."

"I will, Eddie."

Her voice was so sincere, Ed's chest tightened. "I love you Ma," he croaked.

"I love you too. Kiss those babies and Olivia for me."

"Will do."

Earlier, when Ed saw his mother's name on the phone's screen, he left the dinner table and wandered into the bedroom. Olivia heard the conversation end. She placed desserts in front of the kids and told them she'd be right back. Ed was standing at the foot of the bed, his head angled down at the floor. One fist was balled at his side and he clenched the phone in the other. Olivia approached him slowly, debating whether to reach out for his arm or wrap her arms around him. She opted for the latter.

"What is it?" She asked, terrified of hearing the answer.

Ed didn't beat around the bush, "John," he replied, "He and Lila had been checking their temperatures every day and John's kept goin' up. He's at a hundred point five right now. Doc said not much to do right now but the usual-stay hydrated, ibuprofen-"

"-oh, Ed, I'm so sorry-"

"-My Mom's real shaken up," he continued, "She didn't say it, but all she does is watch the news all day, so she knows the stories of people testing positive and dying a few days or a week later."

"I can't imagine…"

"Those stories," Ed turned so he could properly return Olivia's embrace, "They're everywhere. News, Twitter, Instagram…"

Despite the gravity of the moment, Olivia could not help but smile. Her lips curled upward against Ed's navy t-shirt. It was an old garment, not quite threadbare but getting there. The cotton was soft and had the scent of Downy dryer sheets. Ed had not protected his Twitter account-Olivia suspected a secret obsession with collecting followers-so, a few days ago, he set up a private Instagram account. Posting photos of the kids and selfies with Olivia became another hobby and Olivia got a taste of what it would be like to live with teenagers addicted to their phones.

"Everyone is going to have a different story," Olivia said, "And we'll have to cross our fingers that John's is the most mundane of them all."

Ed kissed her head and replied, "Thanks for that."

"C'mon," Olivia vigorously scratched his back, "We have chocolate cake."

"Chocolate cake, huh?"

"Yes. And the kids already have theirs, so I'm sure it's everywhere."

Ed shrugged. "Let's go survey the damage."

…

By the time the sun fell low in the sky, almost all of the first floor hurricane shutters were down. Ed and the kids made a good team. After he unscrewed each slat, he handed it to Noah, who passed it to Maggie and Wyatt. The twins each took an end and walked the pieces to the storage shed. Olivia watched from the yard. She ducked in and out of the house, providing water and lemonade. When the job was complete, Wyatt stood in the backyard near the fire pit, arms akimbo, and stared up at the second story.

"Just need a ladder," he said with all the confidence his eight-year-old self could muster, "Dad can just throw the pieces into the grass."

"I don't think so, sweetheart," Olivia said, "We're going to pay the same guys who put them up to take them down."

Ever the good-natured child, Wyatt nodded in acceptance. "Guess it'll just be dark upstairs for a little while longer."

"I bet you'll sleep late tomorrow," Olivia said, "I remember, one time, Daddy and I stayed in a hotel and they had these really good blackout drapes. It stayed so dark, even in the morning when it was a bright sunny day, we slept until eleven!"

Wyatt doubled over in laughter. The thought of his parents sleeping that late was completely alien to him. His laughter was music to Olivia's ears. He had always had the deepest, most giggly belly laugh, and it was contagious.

Noah rounded the corner from the front of the house. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, I told Wyatt about a time your Dad and I slept in late-"

"-Until ELEVEN O'CLOCK!" Wyatt blurted out. The giggles returned in full force.

Noah joined in. "Eleven?" He asked disbelievingly. "No way!"

"Yes."

"Dad!"

Ed was inside the storage shed with Maggie and he called out to Noah from inside. "Yeah?" His voice echoed in the space which was empty except for the shutters.

"Mom says you and her slept in 'til eleven once!"

Shocked at this information, Maggie screwed up her face and squealed, "What?"

Wondering what in the hell his wife had revealed to their kids, Ed poked his head out. Olivia smiled and gestured with her hands for Ed to relax. Whatever intel she'd given, it was G-rated.

"That's true pal," Ed replied. He waved Maggie out of the shed. He wiped sweat from his brow with his shirttail and, like Wyatt had stood, put his hands on his hips. "Whaddya say we walk over to the seafood place and get some claws and crab legs?"

All three kids greeted this suggestion with a resounding "YES!"

"Do you think they're open?" Olivia asked.

"I don't see why not. But, if they aren't, we'll find someplace to eat. I'm sure places are open."

"Can we mini golf?" Maggie asked. "Even if we have claws?"

"Absolutely," Olivia said, "After all this work, you deserve mini golf."

"I'm gonna win," Maggie declared.

All five Tuckers exchanged glances.

It was on.

….

Even Noah was confused by the footage of grocery store shelves across the country emptied of toilet paper. He contorted his face and twisted his lips, trying to understand the motive behind people who were filmed wheeling cartloads of the products to their cars. Ed and Olivia shielded him from as much news as possible, but Noah understood the virus affected one's ability to breathe which did not square with what he was seeing on television.

"Why they buyin' so much?" He asked while keeping his eyes on the screen.

"Bud, I really have no idea," Ed replied. "Baffles the he-um, it baffles me."

"What's baffles?"

"It means you don't understand," Olivia answered, "Even if you think about it really hard, you just don't get it."

"I'm baffled, too," Noah murmured.

The day had gotten away from them. Yesterday's news of John's diagnosis took the wind out of their sails. Ed and Olivia slept fitfully and spent most of the morning in bed with the kids piled between them. Everyone stayed in their pajamas and consigned themselves to a lazy day. Breakfast consisted of bananas and mini muffins. They ordered deli sandwiches delivered for lunch and ate leftovers for dinner. There wasn't much cake left, so Olivia served small pieces along with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. When Ed mumbled something about "literally accomplishing nothing" the entire day, Olivia chuckled. He hated the use of literally, even if it was employed correctly. Even his typical vernacular was taking a break.

In addition to fretting about her family's physical health, Maggie's reaction to a certain scene in one of the animated movies they'd watched together troubled Olivia. She and Ed were not paying close attention and scrolling through their phones when they heard Maggie whimper and saw huge crocodile cheeks pooling in her eyes.

"Sweet girl, what's wrong?" Olivia cradled her and gave her a kiss.

Maggie pointed at the screen. "Tav'is goin' buh-bye."

Travis the T-Rex was a character in a series about a dinosaur family that the twins loved. The target audience was beneath Noah's age group, but he tolerated the show for his siblings' sake and was able to elaborate on Maggie's sadness. "Travis has to leave his grandma and grandpa and go back home 'cause summer's over," he explained, "And he's gonna miss them and his friends in Paleoville."

"Oh…" Olivia kissed Maggie's cheeks. "It's okay, sweetie. He's going to go back home with his Mommy and Daddy."

"Tav'is wanna play w'Steffie!"

"Steffie da Stegosaurus," Noah interpreted.

Maggie sniffled into Olivia's chest. She wasn't all-out crying-the noises she made were more along the lines of a moaning lament for the characters. Out of the corner of his eye, Ed glanced at his wife and daughter and wondered if this was the first in a couple of decades' worth of female drama. Even Wyatt, who usually jumped to comfort anyone in distress, was unmoved. He bopped his head back and forth to the theme song. Travis strolled down a boulder-lined lane, presumably headed for home, while the music played and the credits rolled.

So, what registered as the Tuckers' laziest day of quarantine did not unfold without concerns. While Ed pumped out his pushups that night, Olivia peppered him with questions about her two-year-old's mental health.

"Do you think that was normal?" Olivia had been furiously Googling and, according to all the message boards, she had nothing to worry about. Nevertheless, she needed Ed's assessment and reassurance.

He huffed the words on each upward thrust. "I think she's gifted. She's emotionally gifted."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. I didn't cry at a movie until ninety-seven."

"Which movie?"

"Titanic."

"Shut up."

Ed rose to his knees and grinned. "I swear."

"You cried at Titanic?"

"Well, I had tears in my eyes," he held out his hands, palms up, "What's a guy supposed to do? I wanted Jack to live. There was room for two. You know, there's a whole Twitter debate about that."

"About whether he would've fit?"

"Yeah," Ed replied as if a fifty-something retired cop discussing the ending of Titanic on social media was the most normal thing in the world.

Olivia shimmied over, sat on the edge of the bed, and gave him a kiss. "How many more sets do you have?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On what you're proposing we do to take their place."

She ran the tip of an index finger over the grooves on his face. His skin was damp and flushed. After several days of letting his facial hair grow, Ed had shaven the night before and patches of salt-and-pepper whiskers were beginning to show themselves. "I think we can make up for those lost sets," she said in a husky voice. She gripped his biceps and smirked approvingly, massaging them as he moved closer and started kissing her neck. Maybe it was the exercise and the accompanying boost of self-confidence, or maybe it was simply excess energy manifesting at the end of a languorous day, but Ed's virility had shifted to overdrive. Even afterwards, as she lay on her back, breathless and savoring the sensation of her sizzling nerves giving way to contented warmth, Ed's kisses indicated he wasn't quite ready to put the cap on the night's lovemaking.

"That was…" Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, raised her arms, and let them flop back on the mattress, "I have no words."

"I heard...a few words," Ed looked up, shot her a quick smirk, and went back to concentrating on her collarbone while continuing to murmur. "Not many words. Mostly...not words…"

Olivia laughed softly and ran her fingers through his hair, which was longer than she'd ever seen. "Sometimes we don't need words."

Ed raised his head again, letting his eyes droop. "That's how you know it's all really good," he said, "When it's indescribable. And I like it that way. That way, only we know."

…

The sight of Tucker striding across the squad room was enough to put everyone on edge, and when Olivia called them all into her office, the sentiments ranged from nervous (Carisi) to instantly irate (Rollins). Tucker was casually leaning against one of the interview room windows and waited until Benson gave him a nod before making the announcement.

"Gloria Montero's attorneys are appealing," he said in his typical gruff, no-nonsense manner.

Carisi had not been a member of the squad when Montero went on her rampage, gunning down people she ultimately blamed for her mother's death. His eyes darted from Fin to Rollins and then to the Lieutenant. Fin took the news with typical indifference. Rollins' face and eyes blazed. While she had a sliver of sympathy for Gloria, she was responsible for almost killing her.

"Why are you telling us this?" Rollins asked. "And, what are they appealing? The verdict or the sentence?"

"The verdict," Tucker replied curtly, "And if that doesn't go their way, the sentence."

"Tucker's here as a courtesy," Olivia said, "And, to make sure, we…"

"...stay out of it," Tucker finished for her.

"This was a tough one," Olivia added, "The daughter of one of ours targeting ours. But we have to let the system do its work. She had a subpar legal team, even under the circumstances, those who usually chip in and help didn't, so this was expected. Time passed, things settled down, and money was scraped together."

"They might have the legal juice to pull it off." Tucker was very much enjoying the good cop-bad cop exchange he and Benson had going on. He hadn't planned to go into much detail. Benson characterized his visit perfectly; he had shown up simply to give them a heads up. And it was also a great cover to see Olivia. This little bit of teamwork was an added bonus. Yet, he had to maintain cover. Making sure to make eye contact with Rollins, he added, "The prosecutor's office is prepared to fight this tooth and nail and they have everything they need. If that changes, they will contact you, not the other way around."

Fin slapped his knees and rose to his feet. "Understood, Captain."

Carisi and Rollins followed his lead and they mumbled two half-hearted thank-yous.

At last, Tucker was alone with Olivia behind closed doors. The blinds weren't drawn, but he preferred semi-privacy over none at all. Remaining in his spot against the window, he gazed at Olivia, picture perfect behind her desk and backlit by the late afternoon sun.

"They took that well," he said.

"Thanks again," Olivia replied, "They'll appreciate it...eventually, and I appreciate it now."

Ed shrugged, "I hear things. Usually nothin' raises an alarm but this one did."

"And what else?" Olivia cocked her head and gripped the armrests of her chair, looking at Ed expectantly and her lips curled in a tiny, playful smile.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not to anyone but me," her eyes sparkled. Ed had not moved an inch. His arms were crossed. To anyone watching them, the scene was not unlike any other that had transpired between the pair. The air between them, though, was undeniably filled with mutual attraction and sexual tension. Olivia's smile widened and her heart beat faster.

"I think we worked pretty well together just now."

"I think I would agree."

"Have to do it again sometime?"

"Is that really what you want to do?" Olivia leaned forward now, on her elbows, challenging him, "Work with me? Is that what you want?"

Tucker stuck out his jaw, "That my only option?"

"I'll tell you what. How about you meet me for a drink in an hour or so and we can run down those options?"

Ed's face turned an even deeper shade of crimson. His breath caught in his throat but he managed to reply. His voice was extra gravelly. His knees were weak. "Name the place, Lieutenant."

Olivia selected an Irish pub in midtown. It had a long mahogany bar, and its vastness as, ironically, a plus. She and Ed could find a little secluded table and hide among the dozens of soccer fans.

"I'll see you there," he said, turning to leave, "An hour?"

"Give or take a few minutes."

"Take your time," he said, "I'll be there."

….

Justin dropped the mail in Sarah's lap. He'd been careful to put the envelope with the address written in a child's hand on top of the stack. Sarah was not one to obsess over checking the mailbox daily, and it was only when Justin moved in that the box was visited every twenty-four hours. To her, mail was divided into two categories-junk and slightly more interesting junk; however, she smiled when she saw Noah's writing and eagerly tore open the envelope. One or both of his parents had clearly coached his format-he'd written the date at the top and included proper punctuation after the salutation. Sarah pictured Ed or Olivia huddled next to him, helping him spell the words. She was sure Noah did not need help sorting out his thoughts.

Dear Sare Bear,

I miss you and Justy and Pearl. Do you miss us? How are you? We are good. I have school on the computer then me and Maggs and Wyatt play. But we can't go out to the park because of the coronavirus. That makes us sad. When you pick me up from school again, can we go to DaVinci? I need new pastels and colored pencils. Daddy got me some with his phone, but they aren't the DaVinci ones. Thank you. Please write back.

Love,

Noah

Beneath his name, Noah drew a picture of the park, complete with a bright yellow sun shining high against a blue sky. Among the trees, he'd drawn himself and Sarah. In the center of the page was a red circle drawn a little too large for the scale. Its purpose confused Sarah for a second before she followed the implied path to the other side of the page where Noah had drawn Pearl, complete with her pink collar. He'd captioned the drawing: Best Day.

…

#Tuckson