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

Chapter Five: "A Tale of Two Birthdays"

July 24, 1997

"What?" Olivia sat up quickly, her hands falling to her stomach. "That little viper wants what?"

Charles Lakin frowned an apology, his lips parted to respond, when Gregory murmured, "Olivia, her request isn't entirely unreasonable."

She turned to him, seething. Whose side was he on anyway? "Are you mad?" she gasped, watching as he continued to read through the proposed offer. "I'm not giving her any of the jewels!" She shook her head, her arms petulantly folded. "Any of them!" She felt him stand, his hand squeezing her shoulder as he promised a response to Charles within twenty-four hours. With a deep exhale, she narrowed her eyes and watched her husband show Annie's lawyer to the door. She winced and sucked in her breath. The baby was kicking with a vengeance and taking it out on her internal organs. She shifted to the edge of the cushion, hoping the change of position would help.

Gregory sat across from her on the coffee table, watching intently. "You've upset her."

She rolled her eyes as she felt his fingers against her knee. "I've upset her? Annie has-"

"Said she'll sue us if we don't make a deal with her," he said, his voice firm to catch her attention. It worked. She turned her gaze to the floor as he leaned in. "And, even though we'll win, a lawsuit will take years," he softly continued, "and God knows how much of our money." She sighed, feeling something shift between them as he went quiet. Slowly, she looked up, their eyes meeting. It was gone instantly, but not before she recognized the sentiment clouding his eyes. It was pain. "I don't want Annie Douglas in our lives for years," he concluded in a whisper.

It wasn't just Annie. He didn't want the memory of Del in their lives. The memory of how she came to own the Deschanel jewels. The memory of her affair. The memory of their broken marriage. I won't – I can't – keep talking about this. Not this weekend. Not ever. She nodded and reached out, cupping his face. She smiled when he covered her hands with his own. This was all for him. "Fine," she sighed reluctantly and he leaned in, kissing her forehead. "We'll make the deal."

He stood and squeezed her hands as he helped her to stand. Her firm belly pressed between them as he wrapped his arms around her. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked.

She watched him suspiciously, hearing the teasing in his question. His hands held her close, rubbing into her back, as she shrugged. "I don't know. A brilliant lawyer once told me settling was for losers," she mused innocently.

He shook his head and glanced away, chuckling beneath his breath. His hands followed the curve of her spine to her hips and she closed her eyes. His breath was warm against her ear as he leaned in. "We have everything, remember?" he rasped. "We can afford to settle every once in awhile."

She nodded and turned her face into his neck. Their daughter kicked between them as he hugged her close, running his hand over her head. "Everything," she agreed, his chest falling as he exhaled. They stood quietly, wrapped in the silence and the aromas drifting from the kitchen. Rose was certainly outdoing herself with this dinner. She inhaled deeply and lifted her head. "Don't call Charles back until tomorrow."

He nodded. "We'll let Annie sweat it out until then."

An amused smile lit up her face as she shook her head. "I don't want you working tonight," she explained, her fingers dancing against the nape of his neck. "Not on your birthday."

He rolled his eyes. "I came home early," he pointed out, making a laugh rise in her throat. "Just in time for Charles to blindside us with Annie's demands."

"But, nothing else," she interrupted. She pressed her hands to his chest as her eyes pored into his. "Not tonight. Promise me."

He leaned in, kissing her. "I promise," he sighed against her lips. She kissed him back, feeling the way his fingers grazed her earlobes. The baby kicked again and she hissed, turning her face away. He frowned and looked down, rubbing her stomach. "That sounded like it hurt."

She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling as she exhaled deeply. "Your daughter demands attention," she replied, his hands resting on the crest of her stomach.

He chuckled as she looked back at him. "She's my daughter when she's in trouble?"

"When she kicks me like that, yes." He smirked and she reached for his hand. "Before the children come down, I want to tell you something." His face turned, a question blooming, and she smiled quickly. "It's a present. Of sorts."

His brow remained furrowed as he led her back to the sofa. "Of sorts," he repeated, as if he needed to ponder the mystery of her words.

As he settled a pillow behind her back, she looked up at him. Their eyes met and he smiled before he sat next to her, pulling her legs into his lap. She watched him for a long moment. His dark eyes gazed back at her, echoing the way they once lured her in all those years ago. "I've been thinking about something since last week. Since the doctor told us the baby is a girl." He beamed, the pride at the news of another daughter only increasing in the subsequent days. He rested his arms on her shins as she continued, "It's something I want very much."

"Liv, what is it?" he asked.

She reached out, her fingers threading through his. "Her name," she said softly, watching him closely. "I want to call her...Evelyn." He sat still, but she heard the way he inhaled. She leaned up, squeezing his hand. She convinced herself this was natural. That she would suggest his mother's name even if the baby's paternity wasn't a lingering question. Bette was doubtful, but she wasn't Gregory's wife. She was...and she knew what this would mean to him. At least that's what she told herself. "Darling?"

He gently lowered her legs to the floor before he reached for her. He didn't speak, but then again, she didn't need him to say anything. She heard his reply in the way his arms drew her close. In the way his suddenly shallow breathing grazed her ear. In the way his choking whisper asked, "Liv, are you sure?"

She nodded, gently turning his face up to hers. "This is our last baby," she whispered, his eyes shining. "Our last chance to do things right. Nothing would make me happier than naming her after your mother." He rested his forehead against hers as she continued, "It's the only name I hear in my mind when I dream about our daughter: Evelyn Rose."

"Evelyn," he sighed, nuzzling against her. "Evelyn Frances." She sat back, hearing her own second name. "Evelyn Frances Richards."

"Darling-"

"After the both of you." Their eyes met as he looked up. A kaleidoscope of emotions swirled through through the expression on his face. He cleared his throat, his whisper strained as he added, "Nothing would make me happier." She nodded slowly, watching the way he exhaled. This was all for him. This made him happy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his bashful smile a balm to her fractured soul. When he looked at her like this, it was enough to believe that she was worthy. That her beautiful lies could sustain them. That she wouldn't break his heart. That she wouldn't destroy their family.

"Happy birthday, darling," she sighed as feet thundered down the stairs. She looked up, smiling over his shoulder as Caitlin and Sean walked over to them. She cupped his face briefly as he glanced down, still too proud to let anyone but her see his exposed heart. She followed him with her eyes as he stood, just in time to catch Caitlin's hug. With less than two weeks until she left for Paris, their daughter was vacillating between uncontrollable excitement and nostalgic sentiment. Sean was himself again and tentatively extending an olive branch to his father.

This was for their family.

Gregory. Caitlin. Sean.

And, Evelyn.

July 24, 2015

Olivia dabbed the perfume behind her ears and pressed the stopper back into the bottle. She turned her eyes up, watching Gregory through the mirror's reflection. His hands worked quickly, twisting the silk tie into a knot as he carried on a spirited conversation with a colleague. He glanced down, winking at her in the reflection, before he turned away and reached for his suit coat. She barely flinched as his voice rose, his hand pressed to the Bluetooth in his left ear. With a sigh, she leaned her elbows on the surface of the vanity. She wasn't so sure that all this technology made things easier. If anything, it only made their work more present in their lives.

"Mom." She looked up as Evy slipped into their bedroom. She padded over barefoot, two pairs of shoes dangling from her hands. "Help. I can't decide."

She smiled and turned around, her eyes moving between the options. "The ones on the left, I think."

"Oh, good." Evy grinned and sat next to her on the bench. "I was hoping you'd choose them." Her velvet voice was low as she slipped her feet into the shoes. "God, how much longer is he going to be on for? He's going to be late to his own party."

"Not long, I hope," she replied as she ran her hand over her daughter's hair. The warm blonde locks cascaded over her shoulders, loosely curled for the occasion. "You look lovely, darling."

Evy peeked up, her brown eyes sparkling as she grinned. "Thanks. So do you." They turned to the mirror, watching their reflections. Olivia reached for her hand, their fingers locking together. The teenager giggled and pressed her cheek to hers. "Forget lovely. Mom, we look hot."

She laughed, wrapping her arm around her daughter's shoulder. This child... Life was never dull with her. "I don't know the last time I heard that," she mused, kissing her head

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, reaching for one of the cosmetic tubes. "Like Daddy doesn't tell you that at least once a day."

She shrugged innocently, fluffing her own hair. "Daddy has never said that to me."

"Oh my God," she sighed dramatically as she blotted her lips. "Maybe his mouth never says it, but his eyes do every time he looks at you. I mean, obviously."

Ah, to be seventeen again and so confident you had an answer for everything. She merely smiled in response and patted her daughter's hand. "Did you decide on your toast?" she whispered, watching her husband in the reflection. He was thumbing through a stack of papers and nodding to the person on the other end.

"I'm going to wing it," she replied, twisting the cap back onto the mascara. "Cait's doing the sentimental toast. Sean's doing the funny one. I guess I'll go for the element of surprise."

Didn't that sum up their three children in a nutshell? Sentimental, funny, and a surprise. "I'm sure Daddy will love it."

"Love what?" Gregory asked, ripping off the earpiece and tossing it on the bed. He placed his hands on her shoulders, playfully squeezing as he continued, "Is this about the surprise party I'm not supposed to know about?"

"The big 6-5," their daughter teased, glancing up at them with Gregory's smirk on her face. And, as she had done for every day of their daughter's life, Olivia sent up a prayer of thanks. She was thankful Evy continued the tradition of inheriting her own mother's blonde hair. She was thankful that Evy and Sean had Gregory's brown eyes. She was thankful for the unconscious mannerisms Evy copied from Gregory: his grin, his laugh, even his temper.

She was thankful that she had no reason to wonder who Evy's father was any longer.

"-a lot of planning! Right, Mom?"

Olivia quickly nodded, feeling his hands gently massage her shoulders. "Yes, darling," she said as Evy stood and smoothed the A-line skirt of her dress. "And, I'm sure Daddy will pretend to be very surprised." Of course, there was no way to surprise her husband. Not anymore. The news of her third pregnancy had been the last time she was truly able to catch him off-guard. Surprises involved lies and that was something she vowed to never do to him ever again. No matter what. "Won't you, darling?" she asked as she leaned her head back to look at him.

He leaned down, gently kissing her. "About as surprised as you'll be in November at your birthday party," he murmured against her lips. "The big 6-0."

She groaned and shook her head as Evy giggled. "Sixty," she laughed. "Wow, Mom." The teenager ignored the death stare she sent her as she took her husband's hand and stood. "And, I'll be eighteen." The girl squared her shoulders and smiled knowingly. "That's a big deal, right? Big enough to invite my friends up to the cabin for a party, right?"

She leaned against Gregory's chest as his arm went around her. "Evelyn, not tonight."

Their daughter recognized her complete name as the warning it was and her face fell. "Fine," she sighed as she dramatically rolled her eyes. "I'll meet you downstairs."

Gregory chuckled beneath his breath as their daughter left their bedroom, sulking. She arched her eyebrow and turned to him. "She's not having her party at the cabin."

"Of course not," he scoffed, locking his arms around her waist. "Not unsupervised."

"Ha!" She shook her head as she smoothed the lapels of his suit's coat. "That's the last thing she wants." Her eyes flashed as she pressed her chest to his. "Remember being eighteen?" she asked, her voice low.

He slowly nodded as he watched her closely. "Which is precisely why she won't be left alone with any boy."

"Don't you trust her?" she murmured, her arms around his neck.

"Evy, I trust. The boys, I don't."

She playfully shook her head and clicked her tongue. "I wish I'd known you when you were eighteen."

He laughed, genuine amusement painted on his face. "Thomas would've run me out of town if I'd gotten anywhere near a thirteen-year-old you," he pointed out.

"Oh, well," she sighed as he drew her closer. His hair was lighter with silver. She made more frequent visits to her colorist. His face and middle were softer. She gave up dessert three years ago. As for their wrinkles, Father Time certainly left his mark on each of them. But, wasn't the spark still there? Didn't he still make her feel like the nineteen-year-old who tripped into his arms one night at a bonfire? Hadn't their love strengthened with each subsequent year?

"-I need to be?"

"Hmm?"

"How surprised do I need to be?" he repeated and she chuckled.

"Surprised enough so that our children, grandchildren, and three hundred of our friends and business associates don't feel cheated. How often do they get to surprise the great Gregory Richards?" she asked and he rolled his eyes. "And, try not to roll your eyes. It'll spoil it."

He shook his head. "I can still surprise you."

She nodded deeply as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Yes. And, I promise to be very surprised at my own birthday party too," she said.

A crooked smile came to his face as he whispered, "I'm retiring, Liv." She froze, the breath caught in her throat as he continued, "Daily practice, the chairmanship, the traveling, all of it." She slowly shook her head, instantly remembering all the times over the last year that he refused to even consider the subject of retirement. He only nodded in reply and she blinked, unable to do anything else. "I should be able to transition out of everything in ten months. Evy will be leaving for college after that." He shrugged and she felt his hands cup her face. "Then, it's just us."

It was all for her.

Everything he did was for her.

She nodded, grinning like the girl she once was. "Just us," she sighed, tucking her head beneath his chin as he hugged her tight.

THE END.