(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Four: "Everything"

Olivia jerked, her heart racing as the unsettling feeling of falling consumed her. With a deep sigh, she sat up straighter and rubbed her face awake. She thought sitting up in the armchair would help. It had not. Her exhausted body was rebelling against her, determined to find sleep any way it could. She pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging her throbbing head. She wasn't in control of her body any longer, she realized. Perhaps it should be added to the long list of things she had no control over. After all, everything was just a heartbeat away from imploding.

She sighed. Would anything ever be easy?

Slipping out of bed and leaving her sleeping husband behind for the second time in less than six hours proved the only easy thing within her grasp at the moment. She sighed tiredly, remembering the way she slid one of her pillows beneath his arm, as if the feathers and silk might somehow replace the feeling of her body. Still, he barely stirred and she was able to creep out of their room, her bare feet padding against the wood floor. Her only consolation was the hope that she would be back in their bed before he realized she was gone. She didn't need him coming downstairs just yet. Hopefully, not at all.

Behind her, she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. She narrowed her eyes and listened intently. They weren't the heavy and determined steps of her husband. They weren't the carefree and breezy steps of her daughter. "Going somewhere?" she asked, her voice flat. She heard Sean jump and ignored the expletive mixed in with his gasp.

"Mom. What are you doing up?"

She glanced over her shoulder, barely able to make out her son's form in the pre-dawn shadows. But, she could feel the apprehension radiating off him. "Well. It seems the only way I can get hold of my son is to be up before the sun and catch him as he sneaks out."

"I wasn't sneaking out," he retorted. It was a defiant response, the type he usually reserved for conversations - arguments - with Gregory. But, until now, they'd never been directed at her.

"Really? What do you call this then?"

"Getting an early start to my day." She sighed and turned away from him. When he was an unruly and wild child, the most effective way to punish his bad behavior was to ignore him. He could never stand the sudden and cold way she would freeze him out for more than a few moments. Then, he would become her sweet boy again and throw his little arms around her legs as he frantically called out to her. Now, after several moments of torturous silence, she heard him shuffle into the living room and drop his backpack on the floor. "What do you want?" he snapped and she couldn't help but flinch at the coldness in his question.

"Your sister seems to think your recent behavior is a result of your father throwing Tiffany out of our home." She paused, letting her quiet statement sink between them. "I disagree," she finally continued, her voice dropping another pitch. Out the corner of her eye, she watched him fidget and look away. "I saw your face when your father announced I was pregnant." There was no need to dance around the issue. She was too tired to do anything other than get to the point. With a painstaking slowness, she turned and looked up at her son. He was still standing next to the chair, but his eyes were glued firmly to the floor. His shoulders were slumped, as if he was broken beneath the weight of whatever was bothering him. "Sean-"

"I heard about your disappearing act last night," he interrupted, though he still wouldn't look at her. She sat up and pushed herself to the edge of the cushion, intending to stand. She was thrown by this sudden detour. But, what her son said next turned her to stone as they careened off a cliff. "Was it because Dad figured out that kid isn't his?"

Her throat closed as paralysis seeped through her veins. She couldn't blink. She couldn't think. His question echoed in the silence, rippling like a pebble's break on the water. She felt the weight of his crushing gaze on her and the fact that he was finally looking at her didn't register. How? She inhaled sharply, oxygen blissfully flowing into her strained lungs. How did he know? Howhowhowhowhow? She slumped back into the chair, suddenly dizzy. "Wh-wh-" she stuttered as her vision blurred and faded to black.

HOW?

Laughing with Gregory over a candlelit dinner, a plate of cheese and pears drizzled with honey between them.

His arms around her as they danced in the courtyard of the palazzo.

The sound of her heels on the marble staircase as he led her to their suite.

Shivering as he slowly undressed her, her silk gown falling away from her body.

Their chests pressed together as they fell asleep, their limbs entwined.

When her eyes fluttered open, she wasn't in Florence. She felt something hard beneath her back. She blinked, quickly realizing she was laying on the living room floor. "Mom?" she heard, Sean's question sounding far away and garbled. She weakly nodded, feeling his hand on her shoulder. "Don't move," he said and he suddenly sounded clear. Something cold pressed against the space on her neck below her ear and she gasped. "Sorry."

She closed her eyes, unable to shake the dizzy and disorienting feeling churning within her. "Why am I on the floor?" she murmured.

She heard the ice cubes knocking together as her son adjusted the compress against her. "You...you fainted," he said softly, his voice very close to her ear. "I caught you as you were sliding off the chair. By the time I lowered you to the floor, you were already coming around."

She nodded, a slight movement she could barely manage. "Thank you, darling."

He scoffed and she forced herself to squint up at him. "For what? For catching you? For grabbing a towel and ice from the bar?"

With a whimper, she raised her arm and groped for his hand. As her fingers curled around his wrist, she forced herself to look up. His eyes met hers as she whispered, "Yes."

He shook his head and sighed deeply. "Jesus, Mom."

She squeezed his wrist, getting his attention. "What you said," she began, her voice cracking, "darling, I-"

"I already know the story of you...and Del," he interrupted. He pushed her hand away from his wrist and forced it to the ice pack, leaving her to hold it. She tried to shake her head, but that only made her dizzy again. "How did Dad figure it out?"

She finally shook her head, fighting the nausea and confusion. "Sean, I- I don't know-" she stuttered, trying to focus.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It was only a matter of time before he realized it."

"Sean, no." She rolled onto her side and locked her arms as she pushed herself up. Choking back bile, she leaned against the arm chair, tucking her legs beneath herself. "What are you saying?" she gasped.

Her son leaned forward, his face twisted. "How did you think you were going to explain it to Dad when that kid is born with a full head of red Douglas hair?" She dropped the compress, ignoring the way the ice cubes cracked and scattered against the tile floor. Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped loudly, the sound echoing in the early morning quiet. "Or, doesn't that matter anymore if he finally did the math like I did?"

Her thoughts stopped screaming long enough for her to croak, "You think this is Del's baby?" He nodded and she couldn't help the laughter that danced out of her mouth. Relief permeated every ounce of her body, an instant antidote to the rising hysteria. Del. Del. He thought...DEL... She saw the confusion ripple across his face and she shook her head, wiping away the joyous tears streaming from her eyes. "Oh, Sean," she gasped, pressing her hands to her heart.

"How the hell can you laugh about this?"

"Oh, darling," she chuckled, pressing her hands to her aching cheeks. "Why on earth would you think that?"

He balked and he leaned in, allowing her to see the confusion in his expression. "You and Dad have been a disaster for as long as I can remember," he said softly and her amusement melted away. "Suddenly, everything's great between you both? Then, you come back from Carmel and you're having a baby?" He shook his head as he sighed deeply. "You two haven't been- I mean," he coughed, lowering his eyes, "there's no way...the math..."

She reached out, cupping his face as she forced her embarrassed son to look back up at her. She knew she shouldn't feel so overjoyed in the face of his obvious discomfort, but she was. She couldn't help it. In the span of several moments, she went from sickening terror to joyous relief. She was still safe. Beneath her palm, her son's cheek flamed with mortification as she began, "Your father and I..." He shook his head as she patted his cheek and simply said, "Del is not this child's father."

Doubt flickered in his eyes and she heard the skepticism in his voice as he began, "You and Dad said the baby would be born at the end of October. Well, nine months before that, you two were barely speaking." His next thought went unsaid, but she could see it on his face. Let alone doing anything that would create a child.

She cleared her throat and meekly nodded. Despite the early morning shadows, she could see the way her son's blush deepened. She and Gregory destroyed the safe and loving home their eldest children grew up in. They lived in such a way that it was completely plausible for their son to wonder about this child's paternity. Sean would never know just how close he came to discovering her lie, even though he wasn't completely right. "All you need to know about your father and I," she softly explained, "is that this child was conceived after Del died." A warm feeling glowed within her, calming her frayed nerves.

It was what it felt like to tell the truth.

Olivia slowly closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. She quietly exhaled, her cheeks puffing out. She wished her heart would stop pounding as she pressed her hands to her chest. After all, Sean was fine and went back to bed, consoled with the reassurance of his younger sibling's paternity. She pushed away from the door and neared the bed. She could barely stand any longer, let alone keep her eyes open. Gregory hadn't moved and his arms were still firmly around the pillow hugged to his chest. She dropped her robe on the foot of the bed before she slid beneath the sheets. Slowly, she lifted his arm and pushed the pillow free as she slipped into its place. His face didn't move as she draped his arm over her and inched closer. She sighed and closed her eyes, surrendering to the silence and her husband's embrace.

"So, where did you sneak off to this time?" Her eyes flew open and she felt Gregory's chest vibrate as he suggested, "Another stroll on the beach, perhaps?"

She forced herself to giggle and turned to him. He was sleepily looking over at her and he hugged her closer as she replied, "Of course not, darling." She snuggled against him, resting her head against his shoulder and stretching her arm across his chest. As his arms enveloped her, she continued, "But, I needed to speak with Sean. I couldn't keep waiting for him to come around."

"And?" he sighed, sleep clinging to his question.

"And," she began, feeling his fingers combing through her hair, "you were...right." His hand stilled and she smirked. There were few things her husband enjoyed more than being told he was right and someone else was wrong. "Sean was just embarrassed because the pregnancy is an obvious reminder that his parents still have sex," she lied.

He chuckled and she felt his hand resume its fascination with her hair. "Say that again."

She sighed, closing her eyes as she repeated in a whisper, "You were right."

"Darling, can you believe how clear this picture is?" Olivia wondered, marveling at the clarity of the ultrasound scan she was holding. She felt his hand on her thigh, rubbing gently. "Don't you remember how blurry they were with Caity and Sean?"

She looked over, seeing him nod. "For most of Caitlin's, I had to trust the doctor when he said the blob on the screen was our child. I never saw anything that remotely looked like a baby until the last month or so."

She laughed, remembering the way he suspiciously regarded the ultrasound images more than twenty years ago. "I think I did too," she admitted. "But this," she sighed, turning back to the photo in her hand, "is so different." She reached out, her fingernail tracing the string of pearls that was the baby's spine. Their baby's spine. She sighed, feeling happiness oozing from her husband. She squeezed his hand as he pulled the car into the driveway. "You know, the doctor said we might be able to know the sex at the next appointment."

He parked the car and turned to her. "Do you want to know?" he asked and she could see the flash of hope in his eyes.

She waited a brief moment before she nodded. She saw him beam and she would've done anything to keep him happy. She was doing everything to keep him happy. This was for him. This was for their family. He reached out and brought her hand to his lips. "Just in time for your birthday," she pointed out.

"You know, I did the math." She balked, Sean's words from earlier echoing between them. "I'm going to be 65 when this baby graduates from high school."

A nervous chuckle bubbled out of her throat as his thumb rubbed across her knuckles. "65," she sighed, swallowing back her anxiety. She was fine. Sean was fine. Everything was fine. She squeezed his hand and teased, "But, I'll always be younger than you, especially when you're 65."

"Starving over here," Sean sighed, sitting sidewise in the armchair as his legs dangled over the arm.

Caitlin chewed on her thumb and anxiously looked up. "Relax, Sean."

Olivia sighed and patted her hand. "Daddy will be out as soon as he's done with his call," she reminded her as she turned back to the licensing contract in her lap. Out the corner of her eye, she watched her daughter nod and lean over knees. The young girl's face was twisted with anxiety and she could almost imagine the nerves churning in her stomach. She too had been nervous before she sat her parents down and announced she was moving to America. However, her own circumstances had been highly different than her daughter's. She had spent the entire year after graduating from school working a series of jobs and saving every bit of money she could. Her parents, wonderful as they were, were not wealthy. There was no way she could expect them to finance her trans-Atlantic adventure.

She sighed, leaning her head into the cushions. Through their hard work, she and Gregory ensured their children would never know that worry. When they were growing up, Caitlin and Sean had everything money could buy, except for parents with a healthy and loving marriage. She rubbed her stomach, remembering the way the baby's rapid heartbeat filled the exam room earlier that day. This baby would have it all and, by extension, Caitlin and Sean would too. This family would experience a renaissance.

She felt Caitlin lean against her before she asked, "Can you feel it kick?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. Soon though."

"I hope I get to feel it before-"

She looked over as her daughter's hand covered her own. She was frowning and staring down at her stomach. Suddenly, it all made sense. Caitlin would miss the latter half of her pregnancy. She wouldn't even be there when the baby was born. She squeezed her hand as she innocently asked, "Before what, darling?"

Caitlin sat up and shook her head, forcing a watery smile. "Nothing," she whispered, squeezing back as Gregory strode into the living room. She jumped up, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. "That was a long call, Daddy!"

Olivia heard him sigh as he sank into the sofa next to her. Despite telling Mason he wouldn't officially accept the chairmanship until the end of the week, a series of teleconference meetings suddenly appeared on his calendar. "I had to finalize next week's trip to Tokyo," he sighed as he rested his feet on the coffee table.

She smiled, pushing her contract aside as he exhaled. Caitlin stood before them, nervously twisting her hands. She cleared her throat and touched her husband's hand. "Darling, Caity had something she wanted to tell us."

He looked up. "Finally," Sean muttered as he sat up and turned to his sister. "Then we can eat."

She smiled encouragingly and nodded up at her daughter. "Go on, darling."

Caitlin nodded back, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Well," she began, her voice wavering, "before dinner, I wanted to tell you both and Sean about something that's happened." She felt her husband stiffen and sit up, his feet falling away from the coffee table. "It's about my future and, while this might be shocking, I really think that-"

"Caitlin, what are you saying?" he interrupted, his voice flat. "Does this have something to do with St. John?"

She placed a restraining hand on his thigh as their daughter shook her head. "No. I mean, yes, but not in the way you might be thinking."

Sean chuckled and muttered, "He's afraid you're going to say you're pregnant."

Olivia felt her husband flinch and she gently squeezed his thigh. "Sean, enough," she ordered, eyeing her amused son. "Let Caitlin finish." She flashed her husband a reassuring smile, not oblivious to the volcanic eruption brewing on his face. She had a feeling her reassurance didn't help.

"Thank you, Mom," she said, ignoring the way her younger brother chortled. She looked at her father and smiled bashfully. "I'm not pregnant, Daddy. Cole and I use protection."

"Ok. Can we not?" Sean exclaimed as Gregory swore and abruptly stood. She watched his face contort as he stalked over to the bar. She listened to the sound of ice being flung into the glass, biting back a smirk. Somehow, the admission that their daughter was no longer a virgin was worse for him than the fact that she wasn't pregnant. He returned to the sofa with a glass and the entire decanter of scotch, deep frown lines darkening his face.

"Caity, if you could..." she suggested as her husband poured a generous splash of liquor into his crystal glass.

Their daughter energetically nodded and said, "This is about school." She beamed, making eye contact with both of them as she continued, "I've decided to study abroad next semester."

Olivia watched the relief wash over her husband, his hand tight around his glass. Whatever else he imagined their daughter might say, it certainly wasn't this. "Where are you going?" she heard Sean ask.

There was a brief pause before she replied, "Paris." Her husband promptly drained his glass. "I'm going to Paris."

"Was this St. John's idea?" Gregory quietly asked, calmly pouring more scotch. She watched him, fascinated by the blank expression that contradicted the tightness she heard in his question. Her hand found his, listening to the sudden silence as the ice clinked against the crystal.

"Well," their daughter began, "not exactly. I was talking about-"

She tuned her daughter out, feeling the way her husband's fingers pushed through her slightly swollen ones. Luckily, Gregory's reaction took the attention off her own. She doubted if any of them noticed she wasn't as surprised as her husband or son.

"I suppose St. John will be there with you?"

"Yes. His grandmother has-"

She sighed, remembering Cole's haughty order from last night. You'll need to help Gregory see the value of her studying in Paris. Hopefully, this would be the last thing she would ever need to do for Cole before he vanished back to Europe. She seized a brief lull in her daughter's impassioned defense of her plan to clear her throat before she said, "Well, darling, I think it's a wonderful idea." Caitlin beamed and stood a bit taller. Gregory turned to her, glaring. Sean watched it all as if it were a spirited tennis match. "After all," she continued, watching her husband closely, "you're older than I was when I moved here on my own."

Caitlin laughed and sat on the coffee table, her knees perched neatly between her and Gregory. "Mom, I'm not moving to Paris." She smiled, listening as her daughter unknowingly took the bait. This was the simple kind of reassurance Gregory would need to hear. "It's just for the fall semester. I'll be home for Christmas."

"You can plan on me," Sean sang as he stood, evoking the sound of Bing Crosby. "Please have snow-"

Gregory sighed as their daughter tossed a pillow at their son, ending the impromptu serenade. She leaned against him, patting his chest with her free hand. "Cheer up, darling," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. He scoffed into his glass, swallowing the rest of the scotch in one gulp. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her. After all, we should be grateful she's not dropping out of college and running off with Cole." He shook his head and she looked up, ensuring their children were still distracted by a pamphlet for the study abroad program. "Besides," she continued, dropping her voice as she rested her hand over his heart, "the best thing we can hope for is that Caity will meet a charming young French boy in one of her classes and she'll forget all about Cole."

That at least made her husband chuckle beneath his breath as he wrapped his arm around her. "Could we be that lucky?" he murmured into her hair. She smiled, his hand cupping her shoulder as he sighed again. Gregory could sigh as much and as often as he wanted about their daughter's upcoming trip. But, at least he wasn't blatantly opposing the idea. "Of course, this means I'm going to have to squeeze in a trip to the Paris office while she's over there."

She smirked, glad he came to that idea on his own. It was one less thing for her to use to convince him. "Of course," she simply replied as he kissed her head.

Olivia shivered and drew the red shawl tighter around her shoulders. A strong breeze blew off the Pacific, bringing an unseasonable coolness to southern California. Gregory enjoyed this weather because it meant he could switch off the air conditioning and leave every window open. She rested her elbows on her knees as she sat on the steps off the patio. The sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon, painting a mural of orange, yellow, and pink in the sky. She sighed. She wasn't a religious person, something that she knew disappointed her devout mother until the day she died. But now, watching the sunset and reflecting over the last several days, she felt something akin to the hand of God touch her.

She was free.

She had gotten away with it.

She had gotten away with everything.

Cole was removed from her unborn child's life and, in just a few weeks, he would be out of hers as well. Caitlin was happy and eagerly anticipating her future. Sean was calmed and reassured of their family's unity. Gregory had everything he ever wanted, personally and professionally.

And herself?

Her sigh gave way to a sob as her throat tightened. She kept them all together, just as she vowed to do. She lowered her face into her hands, crying into her palms. She did what she needed to do. They would never know just how close she came to destroying everything. How close she came to ruining the one thing that gave her the greatest joy in life: her family.

"What's wrong?" She sat up, quickly wiping her eyes as she felt Gregory sit on the step above her. She sniffled as his legs stretched out on either side of her and his arms wrapped around her from behind. Her chin trembled and she rested her head against his left arm as he pointed out, "I haven't seen you cry this much since our honeymoon."

She smiled wistfully as he gently pulled her back against his chest. Nothing ever failed to soothe her the way Gregory could when he used his entire body to cocoon her. His cheek pressed against hers and she reached up, cupping his face with her trembling hand. "When I had horrible jet lag and couldn't sleep for the first three nights."

She felt his chest rumble as he continued, "On the second night, I found you sitting on the floor in front of the television at four in the morning, sobbing uncontrollably."

They sat on the floor as they were sitting now, she remembered. He didn't say anything then, he just wrapped his arms around her trembling body as she cried. "Oh, that ending," she murmured, sniffling as she closed her eyes. "Sophia Loren standing at the train station, heartbroken as she watched the man she loved leave her for the second time." She snuggled back against him, instantly warmed within his embrace.

"But, there's no sad Italian movie now." She nodded and slowly opened her eyes. "Hmm?"

"I'm just so," she explained, her lips parting as the glorious truth rose in her throat, "happy."

There was a long moment of quiet as the evening breeze swirled around them. She heard him sigh and she couldn't help but smile. She knew he was often confused by the extremes of her emotions. A moment later, he solemnly said, "If this is happy, Liv, then I never want to see sad."

Relief tingled in her body as she turned her face into his arm. This was all for him. More tears stung her eyes and she felt his lips on her neck, kissing tenderly. She sighed his name as he nuzzled her throat and she leaned back, looking up at him. "I'm happy," she gasped, her palm against his cheek, "because we have everything." He nodded, his embrace tightening as he kissed her temple. "Everything."

A/N: Sean sang a bit of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" (written by Kim Gannon, Walter Kent, and Buck Ram).