Inheritance Tax by InitialLuv
Epilogue (In which we learn that even when someone is diagnosed with a chronic illness, life still goes on.)
THREE YEARS LATER . . .
Olivia moved onto the grass, slowing from a sprint to a walk. Breathing heavily, she bent over and placed her hands on her knees. The St. Jude medallion around her neck slid out from the neckline of her shirt, and swayed back and forth lazily.
Less than ten seconds had passed – closer to five seconds, really – before Ari Haynes arrived at her side, also puffing with exertion. Ari lifted her hand for a high-five. Olivia slapped her five.
"Damn, Flash," Ari said once she had caught her breath, "you left me in the dust. You left us all in the dust."
Izzy Kinsman came loping across the field to join the sprinters. As Izzy's relay event was still to be held, she was fresh and full of nervous energy. She grabbed her teammates, one arm across the shoulders of each girl. "We are gonna rule the roost when we get to high school!" she crowed. Lowering her arms and backing up a step, she focused on Olivia. "You have to join relay, Flash. With you in the mix we'd clean up."
"Yeah, maybe next year." Olivia shrugged, glad that her friend had at least stopped demanding to know why she wouldn't try out for the hurdles. She didn't return Izzy's gaze, as her eyes were now taking in the crowd. Olivia scanned the spectators sitting in the bleachers and milling around the edges of the track field.
Izzy noticed her friend's distraction. "I don't see your dad, Olivia, but isn't that your grandpa over there?" She pointed toward a section of the stands.
At the word "grandpa" a single name floated through Olivia's head. Sonny? But as she looked in the direction Izzy indicated, it wasn't a certain aging lounge singer she saw, but instead, a certain retired judge.
"Yeah, that's him," Olivia answered with a smile.
ooOoo
After the medal ceremony, Hardcastle and Olivia made their way through the crowd to each other. Milt pulled the girl into a proud hug. "You looked good out there," he said. "Although it's no surprise that you'd be good at running around fast in circles."
"It's an oval."
Hardcastle laughed, then gestured at the two medals around Olivia's neck – gold for the 200 meter dash, silver for the 400. "And you got a few more additions for your trophy shelf."
Olivia viewed the silver medal with distaste. "I should have won both sprints." The girl's mouth pulled down in disappointment. It was remarkably similar to the expression Milt had frequently seen on McCormick's face that first month after his diagnosis, when the younger man had felt like he wasn't pulling his weight with the chores around the estate.
Even as he admired Olivia's competitive spirit – another thing that was so like her father – Hardcastle lightly admonished her. "There's no shame in second. It gives you something to strive for at the next meet."
Olivia snorted, prompting the judge to frown.
Both he and McCormick had been thrilled when Olivia had found a non-contact sport that she not only enjoyed, but also excelled at. There were times in the last two years, though, when the father and daughter would become too focused on the gold medal count. It was then that Milt felt he needed to be a voice of reason. "And I don't think you should get so obsessed with winning every time, anyway," he said, looking seriously at the girl. "It's middle school track, not the Olympics."
Olivia lowered her head in embarrassment. "I know. I'm sorry, Pop." Then her eyes narrowed in confusion, and she looked up in slight concern.
"Where's Dad?"
Milt had been expecting the question, but he still wasn't happy delivering the answer: "The hospital."
Olivia's concern increased tenfold. "What? When? How long?"
"A couple hours, maybe." The judge answered vaguely, jiggling a hand back and forth. "That's where I was, before I came here. I guess it's been a little longer now," he confessed.
Olivia's curls bobbed as she shook her head. "Why didn't you call or something? I'm sure the school would have let me leave early."
"It's not like you could do anything, you know." Milt himself had found that to be the case. He'd wanted to be in the hospital with his friend, at the very least to offer moral support, but had soon realized he was basically in the way. It had almost been a relief to leave when McCormick had asked him to attend Olivia's track meet in his stead.
"I could be there!" Olivia sighed angrily, then waved a hand out at the rapidly emptying track field. "We didn't have to stay for this."
"Oh, yes, we did. Your dad gave me specific instructions. He didn't want you to miss your meet."
"The stupid track meet isn't important!" Olivia said, her voice rising. "It's not as important as – "
Hardcastle broke in. "It's important to him." Olivia tried to sputter a response, but the man spoke over her complaints. "Listen, if he tells me to do something, I'm gonna do it." This time Olivia just raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Okay, okay," the judge acquiesced with a grin. "If he tells me to do something where you're concerned. No matter what kind of shape he's in or what's going on in his life, he's still your dad. I can't overrule his decisions."
"Even if they're dumb decisions?"
Hardcastle looked at the girl in exasperation. "You know, the more time you waste arguing about this, the longer it's gonna take us to get to the hospital."
Olivia's contentious expression cleared completely, and was replaced with gratitude. "Okay, great! Let's go!" She bypassed the judge, heading in the direction of the school parking lot.
"Hang on, you're not going like that!" Olivia paused, looking back inquiringly. Milt gestured at her uniform. "You gotta go change."
"Po-opp. . ."
"Don't whine. Go." Hardcastle made shooing gestures at the pre-teen. "Show me how fast you are, Flash."
Olivia sent a very McCormick-like dirty look at the judge. Then she turned and jogged briskly toward the locker rooms.
ooOoo
When the two of them arrived at the hospital, Milt thought back on his flippant comment about Olivia's speed, and how it was now biting him in the ass. He'd been expecting the girl to settle into her normal post-race lethargy, but apparently her nervous anticipation had overcome any fatigue. Olivia was out of the vehicle before the judge had killed the engine, and was hastily scanning the directional signs in the hospital lobby when Milt finally made it in the doors. "Third floor," she said, heading quickly toward the elevators.
"I know that – I was here already, remember? You need to slow down, kid." Milt was finally able to catch up. As he was still roughly a foot taller than the twelve-year-old, he had a longer walking stride.
Once they reached the elevators Olivia punched the "Up" button, then pushed it a second time just to be safe. The girl bounced on the balls of her feet, watching each set of doors and grumbling impatiently. "We could take the stairs. . . "
"Olivia. Calm down. Things were fine when I was here. Everything's going to be okay."
The doors on one of the elevators opened, and Olivia rushed in. She looked up at the judge as he followed her inside.
"Do you promise?"
ooOoo
Milt led the way down the hall to the correct room. The door was nearly closed, but not latched, and before the judge pushed it open, he looked sternly at Olivia. "Slow and quiet, okay? People sleep in hospitals."
Olivia nodded, suddenly reticent. She hung back as Hardcastle entered the room, calling out softly, "Hey, kiddo, it's us."
Mark's voice answered, equally soft. "Yeah, come on in." The judge had taken a few steps forward when McCormick jerked his head slightly to the side, in the direction of the hospital bed. "But quiet, though. She's sleeping."
After a relieved glance at the woman resting quietly in the bed, Olivia looked back to her father, who was sitting in a rocking chair near the bedside. His dress shirt was wrinkled, with the sleeves pushed up haphazardly. His tie was missing, presumably shoved into a pocket, and his suit coat was hanging on the back of the chair. And in his arms, he was holding . . .
Mark grinned up at the girl. "You can come closer, Livvie." At the same time, Hardcastle gave her a little push.
Olivia stepped up slowly to the chair, her eyes glued on the bundle cradled in her father's arms. Once she was in front of him, Mark tilted his arms, pulling the blanket away enough so both his daughter and the judge could properly see.
"Olivia," Mark announced formally, "I'd like you to meet your brother, Benjamin C. McCormick."
Momentarily speechless, Olivia stared into the swaddled blankets at the tiny pink form with the smattering of dark hair on its head. The baby yawned, and Olivia smiled in wonder at her brother.
"Hiya, kiddo," she said.
END
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. Thanks so much for sticking with me!
-ck