208.
Noah walked around the apartment with the phone to his ear looking every bit like a busy executive negotiating or closing a deal, only he was talking to Sarah and explaining how he and the family were headed out to New Jersey the next morning to go to a car show and stay overnight at a hotel with an indoor pool. Also, he was wearing pajamas and a pair of slippers in the shape of clown shoes someone had given him for a birthday a couple of years ago and he could only now fit into them and walk normally. On the couch, Ed shook with laughter. Over in the kitchen, Olivia smiled when she caught sight of him, but she was mostly focused on their car snack packs for the morning.
"So we're headin' out first thing," Noah said, repeating almost verbatim what Ed had told him earlier, "So I gotta go to bed." Sarah must have said something about pictures and Noah assured her he would take and send a bunch to her. "Love you Sare Bear, see ya!" Noah trotted into the living room and handed back the phone, "Sare Bear says drive safely."
"I will," Ed said.
"Daddy, how do you learn to drive?" Noah burrowed himself between Olivia, who had finished prepping, and Ed which was not the easiest task in the world. He looked up at Ed, batting his lashes.
"Well, you go to a parking lot up in Yonkers and figure it out," Ed replied, "I'll take you there when you're fourteen."
"Fifteen," Olivia corrected.
"Eight years," Noah said after some quick mental math. It wasn't double digits, so he shrugged and added, "Not bad." Later, Ed would joke about Noah had used his mother's answer rather than his.
Olivia hugged Noah and kissed his head and cheeks. She gazed at him-he still had the baby face which she hated to see starting to fade from some of his classmates' features. "You're all cleaned up and ready for bed," she said, "Stories out here or in your room?"
"My room," Noah said. He got up and trotted away but returned and asked who was reading. Ed saw that Olivia needed some alone time with Noah, so he nodded and answered it was Mommy night. Noah then jumped on the back of the couch and hugged Ed around the neck. "Night, Daddy," he said.
"Night bud. Love you."
"Love you!"
Absent-mindedly, Ed flipped through channels, settled on Sportscenter, and turned the volume low so he could hear when Noah giggled or Olivia raised her voice slightly to accurately depict a character's dialogue. Despite his best attempts to distract himself, he kept thinking about Stabler's email. It troubled Olivia, there was no doubt about that, but she had almost shrugged it off as if she had expected such an effusive outpouring of emotion. Ed had a hard time understanding why Elliot emailed him. And he felt guilty because the predominant reason why he suggested Olivia reach out was because he wanted to experience the feeling of her coming home to him afterward. It was petty and immature, but...he got the girl. So, he smirked and stared at the TV and had to mentally knock himself down a peg because he hated to feel too good about himself. Yet, when Olivia returned and planted herself under his arm and held his wrist to her chest, he couldn't help but let the haughtiness take over for a few minutes. He didn't know what Stabler was doing at the moment, but he knew for sure it wasn't this. Tomorrow he would load up the family in the SUV and head out for an impromptu weekend getaway, and Stabler didn't get to do that either.
Ed smirked at the screen.
One thing was for sure. He had given an old foe far too much space in his head for one night.
He kissed the top of Olivia's head and asked, "Need anything?"
"No," she half-whispered, "I have all I need right here."
Ed held her more tightly. Right here, included him, and there was no better feeling in the world.
…..
Ed and Olivia's collective mood was always a bit somber and pensive every September 11th, but they did their best to hide the bulk of their anguish from the kids and use the time they were at school to reflect, watch a bit of the news coverage of the memorial services, and simply be together. They knew each other's stories of the day itself and the aftermath-the uncertainty, the horror, and the gruesome task of sifting through the rubble at Ground Zero and later at Fresh Kills. Olivia remembered how her heart twisted in knots when Ed told her about his post-9/11 assignment, and, all these years later, she still remembered how the crevasses in his face deepened when he first told her about desperately trying to find identifiable shards of people's lives. Of the two of them, the attacks affected Ed the most. He could name at least a dozen close colleagues and even more acquaintances who had died as a result of the collapses or of illnesses afterward.
On this particular September 11, they walked the kids to school, strolled to a cafe for coffee and pastries, and took the long way home. They spent the rest of the day until pickup time enjoying the gorgeous weather on their rooftop. Olivia worried being on top of the building enjoying weather very similar to this very day in 2001 would have a negative effect on Ed, but he was fine. Maybe he held her a little more tightly and kissed her a few more times than usual, but he remained in generally good spirits. When it was time to leave again for school, he suggested they find a place to play pool with the kids or maybe go bowling. Olivia could see he was ready to be distracted and buoyed by the kids' cheerful spirits and energy.
But when Maggie and Wyatt-third graders were dismissed earlier than middle schoolers-bounded down the steps and over toward the usual meeting spot, they had other ideas.
"How was your day?" Olivia asked like she asked every other school day of their lives.
"Good," Maggie said.
"Pretty good," Wyatt added.
"Lotsa moments of silences," Maggie said.
"Yeah," Wyatt replied, "Cause of nine-eleven."
"Yeah," Ed murmured and put his hand on Wyatt's head. Each year of elementary school brought a tiny bit more exposure to what happened that day, but they had always participated in the moment of silence. Even in preschool. Ed held Wyatt to his side. He looked up at Ed, and, his blue eyes wide, asked, "Can we go to the Memorial?"
Olivia bit the inside of her mouth. Ed had never been to the site. He'd driven down the streets of lower Manhattan, walked its perimeter, but he'd never seen the two reflecting pools, the engraved names, or other places of significance, such as the Survivor Tree, up close.
Ed diverted his eyes from Wyatt to Olivia and back to Wyatt. His son's gaze was too intense to discount and the request too genuine to ignore or brush off with a flimsy excuse. "Uh, sure, bud. Uh, Liv? You think it's alright to go down there now?"
Unsure about Ed's intention, Olivia didn't immediately answer. Was he trying to get her to say it would be impossible to get close in order to gently deny Wyatt's request?
"Probably okay?" He said, "The news and everyone have to be gone by now?"
"Most likely," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Let's go home and drop the bags and go," he said softly, never breaking eye contact with his wife.
"Okay," she said.
At the other end of the block she saw Noah say goodbye to his cluster of friends and stride over to the rest of the family. He still walked with a tiny skip in his step and always was smiling. Noah had fought, and won, the right to travel to and from school by himself, but most days there was no good excuse to go it alone. Old enough to have learned both the history of 9/11 and his parents' reactions to it, he did not object to family time today and even hugged everyone when he joined them.
"We're goin' to the Memorial," Wyatt said.
At first, Noah shrugged. He had been there many times. But then he looked at Ed with the same curiosity his mother had shown a minute ago.
"Home first," Ed said, "I doubt they'll let anyone with bags in there today." He waved the kids on and grabbed Olivia's hand. They locked eyes for a few seconds, exchanging silent assurances, and followed their brood along the sidewalk.
…..
Wyatt began shouting as soon as they left the city. "CAH SHOW! CAH SHOW!" He was so excited, Olivia was sure he would bruise his arms on the sides of his car seat and she and Ed would be hauled in to answer for their child's wounds. He and Noah pored over photos of vintage automobiles Noah had on his phone while Maggie stared at the passing scenery and made up stories about the people and places they passed. Olivia and Ed were content to listen to the kids' chatter and exchange sweet smiles when they said something extra cute.
The trip took less than two hours, and Noah was pleasantly surprised when Ed parked in front of their resort hotel, one of the few newer establishments on this part of the Shore. "Sare Bear said New Jersey is YUCK," he reported, "But dis place looks fun! Mommy! There's a pool outside! You said there's a pool inside!"
"They have both, honey."
"Oh…"
"I'll go check in and figure out where to park," Ed replied. "No? You want to come with me?"
"Yep!" Noah unbuckled himself and slithered between the front two seats so he could exit from the passenger side door. Olivia ducked, avoiding his legs, and he inadvertently beeped the horn. Ed got him out and on his feet and Noah looked around. The hotel was situated across the boardwalk facing the ocean. It wasn't the busiest part of the Jersey Shore, but it was certainly more bustling than the Bethany Beach Boardwalk.
"Whaddya think, bud?"
"It's like our street," he said, giggled, "But right here at da beach!"
"Yup. Like they plunked Ninth Avenue down right here on the water."
"Uh-huh!"
They proceeded inside to the bright airy lobby. Noah watched closely as Ed handed over his driver's license and credit card and nodded when the clerk asked him if he would like to use the hotel parking lot. She handed over the key cards, pointed to the elevators, and robotically rattled off the gym, spa, and breakfast hours.
She paused briefly to catch her breath, but it worried Noah.
"Is da pool open?" He asked.
"Yes, it is," she replied with a smile. "Both are open from six to midnight."
Noah grinned.
Ed playfully jostled his shoulders, "I don't think we'll need to worry about the midnight part," he said, "But thank you. We'll get unloaded."
"Daddy when we get unpacked are we goin' to da car show first?"
"Yep. We'll do a little bit of the car show today and a little tomorrow so you can play at the pool or the beach."
"I saw they have cotton candy out there."
"We might have time to try some."
"I'm gonna call Sare Bear 'gain," Noah said, "Dis place is New Jersey but it's pretty and beachy and fun! She prolly doesn't know this part of New Jersey, does she Daddy?"
Ed smiled knowingly, "She's been here. She knows there are nice parts of New Jersey and the yucky parts. Every state has its good things and bad things, but Sarah's a snob about New York."
"Yeah," Noah said, "She loves New York!"
"Yep."
"Do you?"
"Of course," Ed replied, "All my favorite people are there."
Noah giggled, "Good one, Daddy."
…
Ed screwed up his face and, for the third or fourth time that night, asked about the musician who ended up being Kim Rollins' victim. The case was over, closed, and somehow the detail about the pricey instrument had escaped Ed's scrutiny. "So lemme get this straight," he said, "A flute is worth how much?"
"Fifty grand," Olivia replied. She rested her elbow on the back of Ed's couch and tilted her head so her hair partially fell across her face. It was an intentional, flirty move, and, seconds later, Ed reached over, smoothed the wavy section of her brown locks aside, and gave her a kiss.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said. "That girl…"
"If I remember correctly she's snowed IAB before."
Ed nodded, "She has. We knew she'd be back. She had unfinished business. But, yeah, that pissed us off." He grinned sheepishly, more or less admitting he had been wrong about Rollins' role, or lack thereof, in the insurance scam orchestrated by her sister. "I hate being wrong," Ed muttered softly.
"You haven't missed the mark often," Olivia replied reassuringly.
Ed chuckled disbelievingly.
"I'm serious," she insisted. "All those times…sure, we hated seeing you show up. Everyone hates seeing IAB show up, but if what you were investigating was true, if someone roughed up a perp or took money or planted evidence…whatever…that's deserving of scrutiny. Now," she let the piece of hair fall back over her chin, "Were you a little overzealous at times? Maybe."
Ed grinned. This time when he moved closer to her, he remained there. With one hand gripping her thigh and the other on the side of her face, he kissed her again, more intensely this time, until they were both out of breath. "I like talking to you," he whispered.
She smiled and replied, "I like talking to you, too. So much nicer here than sitting across from you in interrogation." The sparkle in Ed's eyes faded slightly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothin, it's," He sat back and put his arm around her shoulders, "I keep thinking about what's gonna happen if I have to show up again, at your squad, for real. I know I said I'd just let Draper take it, but—"
"—that'll work once."
"Right."
Olivia bit her lip. "Ed, why am I not worried about this like you are? Of all the things…of all the times…I, I can overthink so many things, but why is it that I'm not overthinking this? Us?"
"You sound like you already know the answer to that," he said, smirking.
"I do," she replied in a half whisper and sitting up so she could face him, "Something's right. And I know you hate me wanting to cross bridges when we come to them, but, I—"
"—I don't hate anything about this," Ed took her hands and looked like he wanted to say something else, but he clammed up and gazed at her instead.
"Neither do I." Olivia brought his fingers to her lips.
Ed chuckled.
"What?"
He shook his head, "I still can't believe there's such a thing as a fifty thousand dollar flute."
Olivia laughed and let her head fall into his chest. "I know…"
…..
The kids lasted far longer at the car show than Ed and Olivia predicted. The exhibits were arranged chronologically, and they started with the oldest models. They were flabbergasted by an early 1900s soft top touring car and a Bantam Reconnaissance car which Noah learned was billed as the first Jeep. About half of the owners allowed visitors to enter the vehicles, and the Tucker phones quickly filled up with photos of the kids at the wheel. They ran from one to the next, weaving in and out of other guests, and occasionally groaning when Noah announced they couldn't "drive" one car or another.
"Nope, dis one says no entry," he reported while standing in front of a 1953 cherry red Corvette convertible.
Wyatt nevertheless, grabbed the door handle.
"No, no, honey," Olivia said, carrying him away, "We can only look at this one. No going in."
Wyatt frowned and strained for Olivia to put him down. He was desperate to enter the car. Minutes later, he was crying. "Issa VET!" He whimpered into her shoulder.
"I'm sure there are some other Vettes we can sit in," Olivia said.
Noah took a quick trip around the car, careful not to touch anything. Ed held Maggie and pointed out the gear shift and the stitching on the leather seats. Wyatt calmed down, though his cheeks were still tear-stained, and the family was seconds from moving on to the next display when a couple who turned out to be the owners approached them.
"Hi there," the woman said with a strong southern accent, "Whaddya think of our baby?"
Noah grinned and exclaimed, "It's sweet! I like convertibles."
"We've spent the past five years getting it back into mint condition."
"Nice work," Ed offered.
The woman cocked her head and peered at Wyatt. "What's wrong, sugar?"
"He wanted to sit inside and drive it," Noah immediately informed her.
"Oh…well…Rog?" She looked back at her husband, "This little guy wants to take her for a spin. Let's make an exception?"
Rog did not look like he cared one way or another. He shrugged.
"C'mon." The woman waved the three kids over and opened the driver's side door. Hop in. But take your shoes off for me, darlins."
Noah and Maggie piled into the backseat and Wyatt triumphantly settled in on the driver's side and held the wheel. He turned it back and forth, grinned and squealed, and reported to his parents that he was "divin' da VETTE super FASSSS!"
"Ahh, the imagination," the woman said to Ed and Olivia, "And you've got yourself a car guy there."
"I think we do," Olivia replied, "His older brother brings him home books from the school library and they study every detail. Thank you so much for letting them do this," she eyed Maggie, ready to step in if it looked like she was about to get rambunctious.
"Made his day," Ed added.
"My pleasure," the woman said, "We put the sign out because we have so many friends here and spend a lot of time away from the car. I'm sure some people go in anyway, but it cuts down the amount of traffic."
When Wyatt parked the car and the road trip was over, the woman lifted him out and put him on the ground. He stared at her, slightly in shock, for she had a head full of teased bleach blonde curls and bold makeup—a look he was not used to seeing, at least not up close.
"You like my car, sugar?" She asked.
Wyatt nodded.
"Well, you come back next year. We'll have a second one to show you then!"
"Nother vette?" Wyatt whispered.
"Yes. A blue one."
Wyatt grinned.
"Okay kiddos," Olivia said, "Let's move on. And say thank you!"
"Thank you, Vette lady!" Noah said. The twins followed with their own versions.
Olivia and Ed laughed apologetically. "I'm so sorry," Olivia said, "What's your name?"
"Ann," she replied, "But I like Vette Lady better."
"Okay then," Olivia said. "And thank you again."
"You're welcome. See you next year."
….
The car show, a boardwalk stroll, an early dinner, and a couple of evening hours at the pool sapped every bit of the Tucker kids' energy, and the three of them fell asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows. The room came equipped with a sofa bed, but the three of them insisted on piling into one of the two queens and, as typically happened when they slept all together, the twins glued themselves to Noah's sides. Olivia shook her head and silently apologized to her sweet boy, but he didn't look the least bit uncomfortable. He loved being a big brother, even if it meant being smothered by his siblings on vacation nights.
Olivia and Ed retreated to the balcony clad in sweats to ward off the chilly breeze coming in off the ocean. They opened a bottle of wine and sat together on the small loveseat—a perk Ed was not expecting but had been pleasantly surprised to see. He was using the dim bulb overhead to pore over the car show map and mark off areas they had already seen in preparation for tomorrow's visit. Olivia watched him with a loving smirk on her face for a few minutes, then laid her head on his shoulder and stared ahead at the beach.
"Am I bothering you?" She asked since she was leaning on his right arm.
"Never."
"Sure?"
"Yep."
"I'm glad we did this."
"So am I. Good find."
"Yes you are."
Ed tossed the map and pen aside and gave Olivia a sloppy smooch on the lips. She sat up for leverage and kissed back, slinging her legs over his and inviting as much intimacy as they could manage on the furniture. They kissed and teased one another for a while knowing there would be no torrid lovemaking on this particular night but also perfectly happy being together, albeit slightly exhausted, on their picturesque balcony.
Eventually they sat back with their feet on the small coffee table and slowly sipped their wine.
"What was your first car?" Olivia asked.
"A 1970s NYPD cruiser."
"Seriously?"
"Nah. I guess it would've been my Mom's Ford Pinto. I drove that for a while."
"A Pinto?"
"Yeah. What's wrong with that?"
"I cannot see you at the wheel of a Pinto."
"Well I was," Ed replied, "It was ugly as hell—brownish orange…but the first car I bought myself was a 1984 Jeep Cherokee. Man I thought I was somethin' in that truck."
"Sounds much more Ed Tucker."
"Yes it does. And it was."
"Hey," he said softly, "What'd you ever do with that Mustang?"
"Sold it," Olivia said, "I couldn't bear to see it after all of that mess."
"I bet you looked good in that car."
"I did."
"Maybe we'll get a little convertible like that Vette someday."
"Let's revisit after we're done with car seats."
Ed grinned and kissed her head. "Sounds like a plan."
….
#Tuckson