139.
Sarah came home early in order to change clothes before going to Noah's school. The twins were taking a nap in the guest room, and she looked in on them, taking an extra minute even though she was later than she planned and would have to take an Uber uptown. The twins shared a pillow and were under the covers, tightly tucked in with Maggie's doll and Wyatt's tiger (minus the pacifier that was once attached to it). They were absolutely cherubic, and Sarah had to stop herself from kissing their cheeks. She backed out of the room, asked Justin to order her the Uber, and swapped her suit for jeans, a Penn sweatshirt, and a light windbreaker.
"It's that warm out?" Justin asked. Earlier when he took the twins out to the balcony for a few minutes of fresh air, they'd been greeted with blistering wintery winds.
"Not bad," Sarah said. "The wind died down. Has Dad or Livvie called?"
"She said he was out of the grand jury and they were going to get something to eat," Justin said, "I told them to take their time. I don't mind having the twins for the rest of the day."
"What have you three been doing?"
"Watching Paw Patrol, Legos, finger painting...lookit the fridge."
Sure enough, there were two pieces of crinkled construction paper streaked with colorful lines secured by magnets against the stainless steel. "Omigod, omigod, omigod."
"We went to Nugget Spot for lunch."
"Gawwwd," Sarah threw her head forward, letting her not-yet ponytailed blonde locks fly across her face, "That is so cuuuute. Did they love it?"
"Yup," Justin smiled, obviously satisfied that he'd managed the toddlers at the bustling joint. "I was going to bring everything back here, but we sat on the stools. They were hilarious, pointed to them, 'hi'chair, Jussy' so I sat 'em there and stood behind them."
"Adorable. So freaking adorable."
"Hey, your car's here."
"Shit, okay, I'll see you tonight. Do you want us to bring dinner?"
"Text me," Justin said, "Depends on when your Dad and Liv come back."
Sarah put a hand on either side of his face, "You are a perfect man," she gave him a kiss and touched her nose to his, "Love you."
"Love you."
He swatted at her and she gave him a sassy wink before sashaying out the door.
….
When pressure cooker bombs detonated in New York and New Jersey in mid-September, every member of law enforcement went on high alert. When Ed learned of the Chelsea bombing, he immediately called to check on Olivia. She was fine. Noah was safe and at home with Lucy. The "bombing" sounded much worse than it looked, yet it left the city and surrounding areas unsettled and those who remembered the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, couldn't help but wonder if this was an amateurish prelude to more sophisticated operations.
They day dragged. Olivia couldn't decide if she was happy or alarmed at this and she finally decided to leave early, much earlier than usual, and see if Ed wanted to join her and Noah for dinner. He did, of course, and showed up with Italian food, wine, and a giant brownie which immediately occupied Noah's attention. They ate at the table and hung out with Noah until it was time for his bath. When he was in his pajamas, he ran back out into the living room and invited Ed to read stories.
"Sure, bud, out here?"
"No," he said, "I'my'room!"
"Oh, okay."
In Noah's room, the little boy jumped onto his bed and burrowed under the covers. Olivia wedged herself on one side of the bed. Ed wasn't sure what to do with himself, but Noah did him a solid and patted the mattress on the side opposite his mother. "You here, Ed!"
Two books later, Olivia kissed Noah goodnight and started to leave the room the way all parents happy to have their children safely tucked in for the night strode out of bedrooms. Ahead was a few hours of quiet downtime that did not include cartoons or legos or cutting apple slices. Ed stood up, but found it tough to leave Noah's side. Olivia must have assumed he would turn off the lamp, but, was he supposed to? Or did Noah sleep with it on?
"Night, bud," he said.
"Ni'night," Noah raised both arms, reaching out for a hug.
"I'll, uh, -"
"-Oh, I'm sorry," Olivia spun around, "Will you turn off his lamp? He has the nightlight."
"Sure." Ed pulled the cord on the lamp. Sure enough, a night light fashioned after a dinosaur did more than enough to provide enough illumination to make sure Noah could make his way to the bathroom or his mother's room if need be in the middle of the night.
Back in the living room, Olivia was already on the couch and Ed asked if he could get her anything. She, too, reached for him, and asked if he wouldn't mind sitting with her for a while. Would he mind? Ha! Sitting with her as all he thought about most days when he had time to think about anything other than IAB investigations.
"Probably some rogue cell, right?" She said once she was resting against his chest, "Or, one or two guys? Recently radicalized?"
"Most likely," Ed replied. "I'm sure they already have leads on them. This won't take long to close."
"You heard something?"
"Not much. Just that the bombs were pretty much the same. They got DNA and prints. This isn't a sophisticated operation."
"Sure doesn't sound like it." Olivia held one of his arms to her chest. "Thank you for calling earlier. That was nice."
"You're welcome," he said, "I, uh, well, you never know where you're gonna end up. Figured the chances were low you were near there, but, uh-"
"-what, Ed?"
"-You were the first person who I thought of," he said, "When I heard the news. Before Sarah, Brooke, anyone. It was you." Ed's insides clenched. Maybe he should've said he thought of Noah first, but that wasn't true and it wasn't true because he knew Noah was with Lucy and they would have zero reason to be near Chelsea. Olivia lived in the Fifties and almost everything Noah did happened north of there.
"I was relieved when you called," she said, "That you were okay." She kissed his hand, wrist, and continued up his forearm. "These things make you remember the worst...they make you think of what, and who, matters."
"Damn right about that." Olivia had him in a death grip, but Ed managed to turn to her and use his free hand to cup her cheek, "You and Noah matter so much to me," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I hope you know that."
"I do," Olivia replied. "We do."
Ed kissed her and they went back to their previous positions. He knew the night would culminate in lovemaking in her bedroom, but Ed wasn't in a hurry. Olivia lived her professional life in one big rush, everything was always urgent, so he was happy to be the person with whom she could slow down and appreciate moments like this-sipping wine in a hopelessly messy, toy-strewn living room, in the arms of someone who loved her.
…...
Depending on the depth of information contained within a witness, a grand jury appearance could last thirty minutes or stretch into hours. Olivia was certain the prosecutor would begin Ed's testimony establishing his interactions with Gary Wald in their earliest days, so it was likely he'd be in there for a while. Carisi, who had had to recuse himself from the case, sent several texts, some informative, others supportive, and they kept Olivia busy for the first forty-five minutes. When the messages tapered off, she decided it was okay for her to take a walk and she sent a text to Ed's turned-off phone just in case he left the room to find the bench empty.
On the way out of the courthouse, she smiled and said hello to a few people who were familiar but not so much so that she felt obligated to stop and chat. Outside, the wind whipped at her face, but the sun was out, and when she remembered to strap on the face mask, she hardly noticed the wind at all. She decided to circle around City Hall and back so she would be away long enough to clear her mind and collect her thoughts. A few years ago she and Ed were in a similar situation, her waiting for him outside of IAB, catching him sneaking a smoke but not saying anything, keeping the quick conversation businesslike when she would have rathered hug him and tell him everything would be okay, she believed him, and, even if nobody else did, maybe that would be enough. Maybe that was all that mattered.
This time, Ed wasn't being framed. To the strangers on the grand jury, he probably didn't come across as a very sympathetic character. Serious, focused, former-Captain Ed Tucker was intimidating, aloof, and spoke with the humorless, direct tone even more austere than the run-of-the-mill law enforcement officer on the stand. He wouldn't give away any emotion, but surely a few keen eyes would notice how uncomfortable he was and possibly even pick up on how badly he was wrestling with his role in enabling Wald. Surely Ed wouldn't let his mind wander during questioning, but, if they took a break, he would think about the kids, about her, about how their entire lives could start again. Ireland was happening. The beach was happening. Running around in the park this spring was happening.
And then, while she was waiting for a light to change, it hit her.
She was wrong.
Ed would be agonizing over whether or not he'd unknowingly, in a decision made two decades earlier, had damaged their marriage.
Olivia crossed the street and cut through the park. She bounded the courthouse steps and hurried back to the bench, holding her phone the whole time in case Ed called. There was almost no activity outside of the grand jury room. Convinced this was a good sign, she sat down and checked in with Justin. He replied with a picture of the twins, grinning with mouths full of chicken nuggets and dipping sauce collecting at the corners of their lips. Maggie's hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She couldn't remember if she'd styled it that way that morning or not. Perhaps Justin had wisely tied it back before they ate. The fact that they were perched on high benches didn't bother her; Justin would never let anything bad happen to her babies. If he was comfortable with them sitting there, she was, too. She stared at the picture for several minutes. Maggie and Wyatt were starting to resemble little kids rather than babies. Their hair was thicker, and the features in their faces were more defined. It was interesting, she thought, how her relationships with adults had so many complications, question marks, and nuances, but her world with her kids revolved around pure, unconditional love.
So does your world with your husband, a voice in the back of her mind said.
The voice was correct. After Olivia and Ed became husband and wife, there were no more question marks. At times there was tension, but at no time did Olivia entertain the idea of throwing her arms up and quitting like she had with every single other person she allowed to get close to her.
She paged through more photos and found one of the two of them, sunkissed and smiling, leaning into each other, a cluttered table of empty plates and glasses containing final sips of sangria in front of them. Reading into his expression, past the smile, she saw the pride and satisfaction, the gratitude and amazement, that he was there, with her, in a town that had become their second home.
Somehow Olivia had to convince him she still felt that way about him and about their lives together. He'd painstakingly worked to make her believe in him when he promised he wouldn't leave, swore he wanted nothing but to spend the rest of his life with her, no matter what hurdles that involved. Now the tables had turned. She had to dig in and find a way to help him believe her love for him was still pure and unconditional and so strong it could withstand even this test, even if he'd been exposed as not only the investigator who showed up at the low point of someone's career but also the guy who had been in a position to change the course of a young woman's life and career, yet, had failed to act.
…..
Brooke and Sarah spent longer in the surf shop than they needed to spend, considering its stock rarely changed from year to year. Sarah did find a frog-themed infant float for JJ, and, since it was the only one left, she lugged it with her while they wandered among the aisles and racks. When Brooke asked why Sarah wasn't buying a new raft for Anthony and for Mari, she replied that Ed and Olivia had dozens of rafts and something in the shed would be new to them.
"Wow," Brooke said, "That's very...prudent."
"More like, it's, Sarah and Justin have no room for extra crap."
Brooke raised her eyebrows and followed Sarah down the sunscreen aisle. While Sarah searched for her favorite tanning oil which was locally made and difficult to find, even online, Brooke overthought her sister's reply. Nobody ever took a raft back to New York. Everything stayed at the house in the storage shed which had ample room. Sarah and Justin did have a cluttered apartment, and, it had been less than two years after they upgraded to a three bedroom in the same neighborhood. Now, they were outgrowing it, or, perhaps, had already outgrown it, and the current housing market was not friendly to sellers. Nevertheless, Sarah, since teenagehood, always found room for "extra crap." She had trouble parting with even the most run-of-the-mill objects. Everything had a story. Everything had sentimental value. When she bought a new style of silverware, she kept the old forks, spoons, and knives, not because they were a gift, but because they reminded her of Noah. She was unbothered her sets didn't match.
"Noah?" Brooke had asked.
"Yes. He ate with these forks and he was only two or maybe three, but it was so funny because I didn't have little kid stuff."
Brooke certainly understood the difficulty of parting with tiny clothes and shoes and even a few toys, but...a regular-sized fork? Because a toddler had trouble using it? She remembered brushing off her sister's quirk with a laugh and switching subjects.
They made their purchases and stepped out onto the main street. It was busier now, with afternoon imminent, and Brooke suggested they have a Bloody Mary at one of their favorite bars. It was across from the boardwalk and had wide open windows, perfect for people watching even if you were seated at the bar, which was Sarah's preferred spot. Albeit with hesitation, she agreed, and they headed north.
They were served quickly and the drinks came in plastic cups printed with the bar's logo and barely sturdy enough to support the generous skewers of olives, cheese cubes, and crispy bacon. "Damn," Sarah said after taking her first sip, "This almost makes me want a hangover. Fuck that's good. Are you sure you don't sell this mix?" She asked the bartender.
"No, ma'am," he replied in a smoker's voice, "Top secret."
Sarah groaned and murmured, "So good…"
Brooke waited until they were halfway through their second drink to ask Sarah if anything was wrong. Three kids was a lot, she explained, but she got the sense that Sarah was fighting some inner battle.
"Is it that obvious?" Sarah asked.
A little taken aback that Sarah hadn't tried to obfuscate her way out of the interrogation, Brooke blinked and nodded. Of course, she thought, Sarah isn't me. She may not readily ask for help, but she had trouble denying the truth when it confronted her.
"Not really obvious," Brooke replied, "But I am your sister."
"Has Livvie said anything?"
"No," Brooke was slightly hurt Sarah seemed to care more about what Olivia thought than her own sister.
"Ah," Sarah chewed an olive, "I've hardly spent any time with her, so that explains that." She tipped her head back, intending to down the rest of the Bloody Mary, but the ice stuck together and she gave up before the entire contents fell onto her face. "I am, one-hundred percent, glad to be here," she said.
"So am I. But-"
"-I'm also one-hundred percent overextended," Sarah continued, "With the markets like they are right now, I have to be at work. I really shouldn't be here right now, but everyone'll survive for a week."
Sarah only staying at the beach for a week hit Brooke like a gut punch. Sarah always stayed at least two, sometimes three weeks. So, whatever was going on at work was truly in need of her attention.
"And I'm constantly worried. I was never like that, right? And the fact I was never like that is making it worse. But there's so much-Anthony's going to preschool and I have no idea how he's going to react to being away from us, I mean, his English is fine, but he clams up around strangers, hell, even around us sometimes, so I don't know how that's going to go. I don't want to traumatize him even more, but, he has to get ready for school."
"You're right," Brooke said softly, "He does."
"And Mari's fine. She's the happiest one. But I keep forgetting to speak to her in Spanish, so she's going to lose it-"
"-Justin speaks to her in Spanish all the time."
Sarah screwed up her face as if she was disgusted at herself for not realizing that very, very obvious reality. "You see?" She threw up her hands, "How am I so discombobulated that I completely forgot my husband speaks Spanish?"
"Maybe you should think about hiring a nanny?"
Sarah swallowed both the next sip of Bloody Mary and the suggestion hard. "I hate that idea."
"At least for this next year or two? Until Mari's in preschool? JJ can go to day care when you or Justin can't stay home?"
"I still hate that idea," Sarah said. "I want to be a mother. I want to be present. If we get a nanny I think I'll feel terrible until I don't and then I won't and the kids will be with the nanny all the time."
"You're underestimating yourself."
"Do you know," Sarah stared forlornly into the mid-distance, "When JJ was a few weeks old and crying all the time, I thought about those movies and shows and articles I've read about women running away, or hurting their babies." Sarah saw the color drain from Brooke's face, "Relax. I would never hurt my kids and I'm not leaving. I'm just saying. Seriously. We can be real, right?"
"Of course."
"I'm saying I could see how someone could get to that point."
"Sarah."
"I knew I shouldn't have mentioned that. Are you going to watch me twenty-four seven now?"
Brooke rolled her eyes, but she put a hand over Sarah's. "It's okay to admit you're struggling."
"It's more like...JJ just showed up. For the first half of the pregnancy, even when I started to show, I was living in denial. I mean, I'd had long, in depth, complete-with-charts-and-graphs conversations with my doctor and he was adamant. No babies, Sarah. Not happening. And then we escape to Puerto Rico, fall in love with Anthony and Mari, and I'm good. We have our challenges, but we're good. And then boom! Pregnant! Just...fucking weird."
"You're worried you see JJ as an inconvenience?"
"Gawwwd that sounds terrible."
"But…?"
"I love that baby," Sarah said, "Some nights I don't put him in his crib. I hold him until I doze off and wake up freaking out I'm going to drop him. But, I dunno, I guess I wasn't prepared for an actual newborn. I skipped that part with Mari and Anthony. I was excited to meet him, to talk about how he looked like me or Justin. To, have fun watching the three of them and the five of us bond. But I learned quickly it doesn't work that way. It's not all magic."
"No, it's not," Brooke replied sagely, "But it will be, there are moments, right?"
"There are. I feel like...we're almost starting to turn a corner. Jay isn't so fussy anymore. I can pay more attention to the other two. I hope they still remember I'm their mom."
"They do," Brooke assured her. "They'll never forget their mommy."
Sarah grunted skeptically.
"Hey, why don't you and Justin go out just the two of you a couple of times while you're here?"
"That would really be great," Sarah said. "Everyone won't mind?"
"Seriously? After all the free childcare you've provided? And, also, your kids go to bed at like seven."
Sarah laughed, "So did yours when she was that age."
"I'm pretty sure Sof was given at least eight when she was four."
"It's easier to put him and Mari down at the same time."
Brooke conceded the point, "Well, at the beach, there are no rules, remember? Hell, they were all up until three last night."
"They weren't the only ones," Sarah said with a devilish wink.
Brooke nearly spit out her drink. "Shut up," she said, giggling, "You're so bad."
…
Sarah peeled off her mask before entering Noah's school only to be asked to put it on again. She assumed she would have to remove it in order to pass the fairly rigorous security check, but the officer and the clerks seemed more concerned about germs than weapons or potential abduction. Sarah made a mental note to not mention that to Olivia.
At dismissal time, Noah ran out of the classroom and directly into Sarah's arms as if he knew exactly where she would be standing. She hugged him, admired his burgundy school-logo mask, and held his hand as they made their way toward the exit. They took the C downtown, made a stop at his apartment to drop off the backpack and change out of his school uniform, and continued on to Da Vinci and then to one of their usual pubs where they ordered calamari, a gin and tonic, and a Shirley Temple.
"Why da tables so far apart?" Noah asked.
"That's the rule now," Sarah said. "Aren't they apart in your classroom?"
"No," Noah said, "But we haveta put da hand sanitizer all da time and always wash hands and we don't eat in the caf'teria anymore! And no playground!"
"Well, that sucks."
"Yeah, it sucks," Noah murmured.
Sarah winced, "Oops, sorry Noey, I shouldn't have said that. Anyway, how's Mia?"
"Mia's not in school 'cause her Mommy said it's not safe."
"Oh."
"It's safe, right, Sare Bear?"
"Of course," Sarah replied, a little too quickly. She was annoyed Noah knew these details. How dare someone reveal that information to a child just so he could wonder if he was safe and if his parents were being foolish in allowing him to go to school. "You have your mask and you wash your hands. That's what we're supposed to do. Hey, if there's no playground, what do you do for recess?"
"We can go outside," Noah said, "But no slides or swings or monkey bars and we can only play soccer. But it gets hot with da masks. I don't like it."
"Keep your mask on, Noey."
"I do."
"It'll be back to super normal, soon."
"You still promise we can go to Ireland?"
"I promise. So, what else is new?"
"We're learnin' about plants in science," Noah said, "I'm 'posedta get a plant and make it grow for a project."
"Well, that sounds like fun! What plant are you going to choose?"
"I thinka sunflower."
Sarah seriously doubted the success of growing a sunflower inside of a Manhattan apartment, but she decided to let Olivia or her Dad break the news to Noah. "That sounds lovely. I-"
"-Hey! Listen to da song!"
It took only a second for Sarah to register the lyrics. She couldn't believe it was playing in this bar, but Red Solo Cup had somehow infiltrated the jukebox. "Let's have a paaaarty," Noah sang. "Sare Bear, we should have a party."
"We had one last weekend at Grandma's!"
"We should have 'nother one. And have red cups like at da beach. We had some cups at school for a welcome back party, but they were blue."
"Oh, no…"
"Yeah, blue," Noah typically had no qualms about the color, but he spat out the word as if it tasted bad. "And! No Sharpies!"
"Well, we know how to party," Sarah said, "And we shall have one soon, complete with red Solo cups and Sharpies."
"And shrimpies!"
"Shrimpies? Why?"
Noah shrugged, "Sharpies made me think of shrimpies."
"Oh, well, we're about to have some calamari-ies."
Noah giggled, "That doesn't sound right."
"That's because it's not," Sarah said, "I was just being silly. You're not becoming jaded are you?"
"What's jaded?"
"It means you're tired of something, in this context, tired of being silly."
Noah plucked a cherry from his glass, ate it, and put the stem in his mouth, presumably to attempt to tie it in a knot. "Nope," he said in garbled language since his tongue was partially occupied, "Not jaded."
"Good," Sarah said, "Never get jaded. Always be silly. That's my best advice."
"Ugh," Noah said, his eyes fixed on the floor, "Sare Bear, c'you get me more cherries? I dropped da stem."
…..
#Tuckson