155.

Ed's favorite piece of furniture at the Delaware home was the loveseat on the back porch. The base was tightly braided gray wicker and the matching cushions were firm yet comfortable. Most importantly, it was large and wide enough for two people to stretch out lengthwise and cuddle together under a blanket on a cool spring night. The porch was the family's gathering place and always a hub of activity-there were three other large chairs, the porch swing, and a coffee table with drawers where they stored decks of cards and other odds and ends. Next to the French doors was a tin bucket that, in the summer, held everyone's goggles, snorkels, and fins. There were two other baskets-one for towels and the other for sand toys-but they would remain inside and stored in the laundry room until July. On the opposite side, Ed had plans to add a bar ledge perpendicular to the grill. He calculated they had room for a few tall stools as well. It would be a perfect addition to their outdoor living space.

In a couple of months they would host various combinations of family and friends. The days would be filled with sand and saltwater, wiffle ball games, and trips to the mini golf park. They'd alternate between going out to dinner at their favorite seafood joints and collaborating on home cooked meals. Nights would be warmer, but they would gather around the fire pit, make s'mores, tell stories, reminisce, and plan for the next day. Bedtimes would be stretched or ignored altogether. In August they would head back to the city with another round of precious summer memories packed away.

Ed had never paid attention to intentional self-care, but he knew it was a thing thanks to his wife and his mild Twitter addiction. Being here, at his home overlooking the ocean, with his wife in his arms and his children safely cocooned together in Noah's bed upstairs allowed him to experience genuine peace. He hated that Rebecca's voice and choice of words had been so unsettling, but the entire ordeal reminded him of the love he was surrounded with every minute of his life.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Olivia was lying with her back against his chest and hugging his forearms. One of Ed's legs was looped around hers.

"Barstools," he replied.

"Barstools?"

Ed chuckled softly, "I want to do a ledge on that side over there. So it overlooks the yard?"

"I love that idea."

"And, uh, just thinkin' about for the millionth time how glad I am that we bought this place."

"I always pinch myself when we're here," Olivia said, "It's the dream house I didn't realize I wanted."

"It's funny right? The way we coulda never predicted any of this? The way we didn't know how badly we wanted any of it?"

"Yeah," Olivia cooed, "You're right. I remember feeling that way when I got Noah, the first night with him. I wanted to be a mom, but I didn't really know how much I wanted it until I had that little boy in my arms. And, do you remember? When the twins were finally both home, how we would hold them almost the whole night while they slept?"

"Didn't do anything else but stare at them," Ed added, glancing at the iPad baby monitor that was rarely far away during the night. Noah was on his back, dead center in the middle of the queen sized bed they'd purchased for the room figuring it was wiser to let him grow into the furniture. He was flanked by his siblings. Maggie was plastered to his side; Wyatt had shimmied up so his head was even with Noah's as if he were trying his best to imitate his brother. The positioning was so in-line with their personalities, Ed chuckled again.

"What?" Olivia asked.

"Poor Noah," Ed replied, "He's got Maggie as a blanket and gonna knock heads with Wyatt if he moves an inch."

Olivia lifted her head to get a view of the screen, "So precious. They love each other so much. I hope they always do."

"They will." Ed wasn't being frivolous. He sincerely believed they were raising the three youngest Tuckers as a cohesive, loyal group. Sure, they would experience typical sibling tiffs and maybe even rivalries, but he was certain Noah, Maggie, and Wyatt would be a tight-knit crew for their entire lives.

"I wonder if G has brothers and sisters," Olivia murmured after a few minutes of listening to the wind and waves.

"Why do ya say that?" Ed asked softly.

"I didn't tell you," Olivia began, "I didn't get the chance the night it happened and then, well, I didn't want to put more on your mind-"

Ed's body went rigid, "-the night what happened?"

"G told me she was raped," Olivia said, "At her former job."

"What?"

Olivia retold G's account of the attack in slow, steady sentences. Her position on the loveseat hadn't changed but she was sure Ed's jaw was clenched, and when she mentioned the nondisclosure agreement, he muttered, "Fuck."

"I don't know if I should offer to help her or leave it alone and just, well, be there for her."

"Could maybe offer to have someone look at the contract for her. Between the two of us, someone must owe us a favor."

"She just seemed so tired," Olivia replied, "Or maybe it was resignation. When we get back I'll ask and if she wants me to drop it and not say anything again, I'll respect that."

"I think you'll feel better if you at least make the offer."

A tiny smile crept across Olivia's lips, "You're right."

"I'm assuming no one else knows?" Ed asked.

"No one in our family. And she didn't mention her family. Or friends."

Ed kissed Olivia's cheek. "You know better than anyone what it's like for victims to weather those storms alone. If your gut is tellin' you to talk to her about it, then that's exactly what I think you should do. I trust your instincts more than anything."

"Thank you for saying that."

"It's true."

Olivia took a deep breath of cool, salty air and closed her eyes. "I could stay out here all night," she said.

"Sure."

"You cannot be very comfortable."

"I got you here with me," Ed replied, "As long as that's the case, I'm the most comfortable man in the world."

…..

When Ed called to ask if it was okay if he stopped by, Olivia's first instinct was to say it wasn't a good time. She wouldn't have been lying. The past week had consistently fed her bad news. In separate cases, a witness disappeared, another victim left the country, Judge Barth granted a motion to suppress that Barba had vociferously opposed, and a plea deal would free a man Olivia believed to be a serial rapist in under five years. She was used to disappointment, but it didn't usually come in a torrent like it had over the past six days. Her off-duty weekend came at the perfect time, but, despite a good night's sleep, felt sluggish all day and struggled to keep up with her energetic son. Ed's text came after she'd put Noah to bed and even though she was looking forward to a glass of wine and something mindless on television she told Ed to come on over and found herself even more eager for his company.

It was only when she heard the knock on the door that she realized she was completely free of makeup and her hair was still damp from her shower. Ed was clearly infatuated with her and she didn't feel pressure to always look her best when he was around; nevertheless, he hadn't seen her so, well, pure. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and the breath she had taken seconds earlier caught in her throat. Ed was standing there holding a bouquet of brightly colored assorted flowers which partially obscured his smirk.

"For you," he handed over the flowers and his shaky voice betrayed his nerves. "I, uh, sorry to barge in like this."

"Thank you," Olivia cooed, "And, you called first. It's hardly barging in. These smell so good, Ed. I...wow...I love them." She beamed and gave him a kiss. Suddenly in a good mood, she spun around and went to find a vase. The flowers were such a simple gesture, but they brightened more than her living room. Her spirits soared and when she and Ed settled on the couch with drinks, she kissed him again. It felt good to have someone care about her, and she was starting to realize that Ed had an amazing sixth sense about when she needed a boost.

"Whaddya watching?" Ed was intent on getting her mind off the job, and he was willing to watch TV with her all night if that's what it took.

"Friends," Olivia replied, "But I wouldn't call it watching. More like staring."

"I used to stare at MASH," he said, "But then they stopped airing it."

"And now?"

"I like Friends."

"You're lying."

"It has good writing," Ed countered, "It's not a bad show."

"You're serious?"

"Yeah. When my mother broke her ankle my sister and brother and I took turns going up there to keep her company in the evenings. My night was Friends night-my mom was a loyal watcher. Still is. She has the DVDs."

"Wow," Olivia murmured, "That is certainly unexpected information. And...is your mom getting around okay now?"

"Oh yeah. She's a trooper. The real reason why we did shifts like that was to make sure she wasn't pushing it. She's not one to sit still. But the ankle healed and she's good."

"How'd she break it?"

"Shoveling snow."

"Wow…"

"Yeah...snowed overnight one night and she was worried about the damn mailman making it up the walk to the house. So she got up early and went to shovel and slipped down the stairs."

Olivia gasped.

"She was able to get back inside and call her neighbor. Scary. You hear about people falling in the winter and freezing to death. Her street's pretty busy so that probably wouldn't have happened, but still. Anyway, I'm glad she took her rehab seriously. She had a little health scare with her heart right before that and she was supposed to be walking everyday, so the ankle put a kink in that plan."

"My God…"

"That's what you get when you smoke a pack a day for years," Ed said with a shrug, "She says she's quit but she hasn't. Maybe cut back, but, I don't know, she's almost eighty. You live that long maybe you get to keep up with the self-destructive stuff?" Ed grinned, "I really wanted to come over to cheer you up."

"I don't look cheerful to you?"

"Well, you did…"

Olivia put her hand on Ed's wrist, "I want to know these things," she said, "I want to know you, Ed. And I really want to know your mom."

"She's a character."

"Are you more like her or your dad?"

"My dad. Definitely." Ed smiled because he was very well aware Olivia could have guessed his personality was very far from his mother's. "He, uh, worked in construction then owned a couple of buildings. But, that was before the asbestos laws. Once he got sick, he was gone in a matter of months. But, yeah, everyone always says I'm the carbon copy of him. But I like to think I'm a little more fun."

That's horrible…"

Ed shrugged.

"And yes," Olivia smiled and squeezed his hand, "I think you're a lot of fun."

"Honestly? I'm happy just being here with you. Or anywhere really." Ed dared to meet her eyes. He'd gotten carried away, but she didn't seem to mind. "With you," he repeated for clarity.

A not-uncomfortable silence fell over them. Olivia sipped her wine and Ed followed suit. Had they been further into their relationship it would have been the moment when one of them made the move that would eventually lead to the bedroom, but they weren't there quite yet. Another Friends episode began. Olivia had made sure to set the vase in her line of sight. She moved closer to Ed and he slung his arm along the back cushion. She readily took the invitation. At the next commercial break she patted his knee and thanked him again for the flowers. Ed answered nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. But it was a big deal. He'd spent at least ten minutes at the flower stand searching for the perfect arrangement. Even when he knocked on Olivia's door he wasn't certain he'd made the right choice, but her reaction suggested otherwise.

"What's your favorite flower?" Ed asked during a commercial break.

"Those," Olivia replied, twitching her head at the bouquet.

Ed smiled and kissed the side of her head. He guessed she didn't have a favorite flower. Yet. But soon, he hoped, she would. He wanted to help her realize her favorite everything.

….

Olivia awoke with a start barely able to move both because she'd been in the same position for several hours and because Ed still had his arms and legs wrapped around her body. She blinked a few times and craned her neck backward. Ed was sound asleep, mouth open, and his head cocked at an angle that was sure to cause nagging pain over the next twenty-four hours. The sky was a shade lighter than it had been minutes before she fell asleep. Olivia predicted the time at somewhere around five a.m.

She managed to work herself into a sitting position and put her hand on Ed's face. "Ed? Sweetie?"

His lips and forehead twitched and he breathed in sharply. "Hey," he rasped.

"I said I could stay out here all night," Olivia said sweetly, "I didn't actually expect it to happen."

Ed smiled and mumbled, "I dozed off after you...gave myself a few more minutes before wakin' you up...guess that plan didn't work." He extracted his arm so he could check the time on the wristwatch he rarely removed. "Probably got an hour or so."

Making clear what she wanted to do with the hour or so until the kids woke up, Olivia kissed his neck and cheeks and whispered in his ear. He shivered and soaked up the affection until he absolutely had to kiss her. He shifted his weight and they kissed until they were breathless. "Let's go upstairs," Ed panted.

"Skip the creaky step," Olivia replied, grinning.

Ed smirked and winked in acknowledgement. "Right," he said, grabbing her hand, "C'mon."

…

Sarah rested her feet on the balcony railing slats and rolled her iced coffee in her hands. "Gawwwwd, I love the weekends," she said as she peered down below at the slowly-coming-to-life street. Pajama-clad people were out walking dogs or strolling with their own coffees. "What should we do today?" She asked Justin who had returned minutes ago with Pearl and the drinks. The dog, spent from her morning run, was sleeping under his chair.

"Feel like goin up to see my mom?"

"Sure!" Sarah and Carmen adored one another, but Carmen, though retired, kept busy with volunteer work and outreach through her church. She often left her house before sunrise and didn't return until late in the evening. "Should we bring her lunch?"

Justin's expression suggested Sarah should have known better. "She's for sure going to be cooking," he said, "It's Sunday."

"Mmmmm. I wonder what's on the menu. I don't know how everyone in your family doesn't weigh three hundred pounds."

"Hard work," Justin said, "Burns it all off."

Sarah reflected for a moment. "You know," she said, "I don't understand what it's like to work hard. I probably never will."

Justin screwed up his face. "You forget about the times you practically spent the night at the office?"

"That's only a few times a year," Sarah said, "But real, true, hard work? Nope. Never done it."

"My mom wants a tree stump taken out of her yard," Justin grinned, "We'll getcha some gloves on the way up there today and you can help me. Will that make you feel better?"

"Maybe," Sarah chewed a hangnail.

Justin turned to face her, "It's okay, Sare. You don't have to work twelve hour days grinding at a construction site or in some menial job to be a good person. And you do work hard. You're just really good at what you do, you're smart. And you love people hard. That takes a lot of effort even if you don't feel like it does."

Tears welled in Sarah's eyes. "How do you always know what to say?" She asked in a shaky voice.

"It's not like I'm making it up," Justin said, "It's true. It's what I see. And it's what everyone else sees, too. Or they would if they really thought about it."

Sarah reached across the small table and curled an arm around his head. They managed a quick kiss. "I love you," she cooed. "You're just...the best." She noticed Pearl peering up curiously at them and added, "Yes, Pearl...you're the best too."

…

Travel weary and feeling a little gross from almost four hours on the train, Wyatt squinted in the bright sunlight when he stepped out of Penn Station. The area was one of the few pockets in Manhattan to be untouched by a significant amount of redevelopment, and he couldn't help but grin at the familiar sights of fire escapes, dingy store awnings, and the behemoth of Madison Square Garden looming nearby. A major reason Wyatt was filled with warmth was because of the memories of watching Knicks games with his family in the arena. He and his siblings would eat hot dogs and popcorn and cheer wildly for their favorite players. One year when the Knicks went deep into the playoffs, Ed and Olivia surprised the kids with precious, center-court tickets. Noah and Maggie shrieked with excitement when they realized they were going to The Game. Wyatt nearly passed out.

"Are you lost young man?" Maggie had approached him from behind and gently kicked him in the back of the knee.

Wyatt spun around and grinned, "Nice tan."

Maggie shrugged, "California."

The twins hugged and started walking. They were headed north and Wyatt shifted his overnight bag from shoulder to shoulder, a move he'd have to do several times before they reached their building. Two days earlier, Maggie sent a cryptic SOS-type text along with funds for a train ticket and a message saying she'd explain everything when he arrived. Now that he was there, Wyatt assumed she would fill in the blanks on their stroll home.

"How was the trip?" Maggie asked.

"Okay," Wyatt replied, "Thanks for the early ticket. It wasn't so crowded."

"No problem."

"Glad to be back?"

"Yes! And I'm ready for the beach. You're coming right?"

"Yeah, I'll be done in a couple of weeks." Wyatt was taking a fast-track summer class to clear what he saw as a ridiculous prerequisite for his graduate program. "And I'd planned to stay in Cambridge until then," he added pointedly.

"I'm sorry but we have an emergency."

Wyatt waited for more information.

Maggie didn't have to look at the street sign to know their location, but she did anyway. They were moving too quickly. Up ahead was a string of pubs. She and her siblings had a healthy love for pubs even though none of them were anywhere close to being heavy drinkers. They loved the dimly-lit ambience, the decades-old floor tiles, and the sturdy wooden bars. Most of all, they viewed the pubs as a place to have honest conversation. Every serious matter, at some point, was discussed in a pub. That was the rule.

"Let's have a drink," she said. "We should celebrate."

"We really should," Wyatt said earnestly. He felt bad that his sister's Bachelor Degree was being treated as anticlimactic and maybe even overlooked with him starting grad school and Noah moving back to the city. "Are mom and dad expecting us home?"

"They don't even know you're here."

"Yes they do," Wyatt said, a little baffled there was such a lack of communication within the family,"I told them. I didn't know it was supposed to be a secret."

Maggie groaned, "Wyatt!"

"You didn't say not to tell them," Wyatt said meekly, "And I didn't say anything to Noah, as requested."

"Good," Maggie said. "Because we have work to do."

"Work?"

"Yes," she stopped in front of an entrance. "This one okay?"

"Yep. And, uh, the work?"

"Oh, yeah, well," Maggie shot him a raised-eyebrow look in order to emphasize the importance of the mission, "We have to get rid of Mia."

"You don't mean, like, kill her?" Wyatt asked, only half joking.

"No silly," Maggie said, "I would never do that! We need her, um, gone. Alive, but gone."

"Didn't she already do that for us once?"

"Well yeah, but she's back. So, like I said, we have work to do."

Wyatt followed Maggie inside. He was simultaneously annoyed, amused, and a tiny bit excited. This wasn't the first time his sister dragged him into a scheme and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Her heart was always in the right place, but she had a tendency to get carried away. He sat down beside her ready and eager to listen, but, as always, was determined to be the voice of reason. He shoved his back under the stool and sat down. "So," he said, slapping the bar, "What's the plan?"

….

Wyatt was the first child awake and Olivia watched him carefully slither from the high mattress to the floor and walk around the bed to the door. She heard his footsteps near the staircase and softly called his name. Seconds later he appeared in the doorway, smiling.

"Hi sweet Wyatt!"

Wyatt pointed toward the bathroom. "Ga'go'potty!"

"Okay, honey," Olivia started to get up but Ed stopped her.

"I'll get him."

Admittedly, Ed and Olivia had been doing a terrible job with toilet training until a couple of months ago. Part of the reason they were dragging their feet was selfish-they simply wanted to hang on to every part of babyhood they could. But when both Maggie and Wyatt became clearly frustrated with diapers, they gave in. The twins wore Pull-ups at night, and the first thing Wyatt did every morning was to dart to the bathroom for them to be taken off.

After they were finished in the bathroom, Ed tossed Wyatt onto the mattress. "There's the big boy," he said as he collapsed back into his spot.

Wyatt snuggled next to Olivia and played with her necklace which she hadn't gotten around to removing the night before. "What are we going to do today, Wyatt?"

"Go inna wa'er," he mumbled.

"We can probably put your feet in."

"Wanna jump!" Wyatt kicked his legs.

"We should get a hot tub," Ed said, "Then we wouldn't ever have this problem."

"Where are we going to put a hot tub?"

"Easy," Ed replied, "Put a concrete slab down, there's room."

"We would never use it."

"Oh, I think we would," he winked naughtily, "And, Wyatt could jump in the water all the time. Right bud?"

"Ri'DADA!"

"Just a concrete slab, that's it?"

"I'm pretty sure that's it. Maybe we don't even need the slab."

Olivia was skeptical but open to the idea. "Let's go check them out today," she said, "We'll see."

Ed grinned.

"I don't hate it," Olivia added.

"I love it."

"Wyatt," Olivia nuzzled her son's cheek, "I think you're going to be able to jump in the water at some point this week after all."

"I do a c'nonball like NO!"

"I don't think we can do cannonballs. That's for the pool."

"We buy BIG POOL!"

Olivia grinned and playfully glared at Ed. "Don't even think about it."

…..

#Tuckson