Ok, so the second pre-written one. The formatting got a bit messed up, because I'm updating from my iPad, so some of the words might have been strangely merged, or there might be extra spaces. But I hope it won't be too annoying. This one is for Mint, who's to blame for all the Gilmore Girls references :)
"I think she's down for good now." Liv says as she puts the baby monitor on the cupboard next to the door and tiptoes across the floor, collapsing onto the bed, snuggling next to Zoey. "Are we all ready?"
"Yes!"
"Food?"
"I've re-stocked on popcorn, because we were running low, and Oreos." The girl pauses for effect, "We forgot Oreos!"
"Do we have the list?" Liv asks grinning.
Zoey shuffles around, lifting the fluffy purple throw, and moving around the huge pillows, until finally, "Found it!"
They've spent most of the day in bed, watching Gilmore Girls, going through the list of their favorite episodes, talking loudly over the fast-paced dialogue.
"Which one is next?"
"Oy with the poodles already!" Zoey says with a grin.
"Start it up, kid!"
She wakes up, her phone vibrating. She tries to pull it out of her back pocket, but she knocks over a plate with left over pop-tarts in the process. "Hi." She smiles.
"Hi." He leans back into a big leather chair, running his hands though his hair, his lips curving unconsciously.
"Give me just a second." She says as she puts the phone between her shoulder and her ear and tries to get out of bed, without waking Zo. She steps into the pop-tarts as soon as her feet touch the floor. "Crap," she hisses under her breath, making him laugh. She pulls the covers up, and runs her hand over the girl's hair, kissing her head softly; before gathering the food-remains and putting them on the already over-crowded desk – they'll sort it out in the morning. She grabs the baby monitor on her way out, finally speaking as she steps into the hallway.
"Sorry. I'm all yours now. Hi."
She can feel him smile back at her, "Hi." He walks over to the bed in the hotel room and lies down, his back slightly propped up. "What was that about?"
"I fell asleep in Zoey's room. We were having our Gilmore Girls marathon."
"You guys haven't had that in a while."
"We haven't. With packing and moving; the contractors and everything in between, it's been crazy. We're finally settling into a routine, so I thought it would be a good way to spend the weekend."
"Have you warned Cy?" He asks with a soft chuckle.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She says in her most indignant tone. He can almost see her face; the way she purses her lips when she plays innocent; the way she bats her lashes a certain way.
"I'm talking about the fact that every time you two have a marathon you spend the following week firing quotes at each other and talking in references. And I distinctly remember the insanity from a few years back when you decided to go on a road-trip to Harvard, looking for that creepy Inn. I still have the photos of the cats in my phone to prove it."
She chuckles, despite her best efforts, "Fine. Point taken. We have had our moments of insanity. But we have grown up. We'll be fine. We'll be nice to Cy."
"Mhmmmm. I'm sure."
"Shush mister!" They both laugh, but the laughs fade into wistful smiles, both breathing into the phone, and listening, intently – breathing out and breathing each other in. "So, how was your day?" She asks finally.
"Good. Busy. I missed you like crazy for the most of it." He sighs. "I hate this."
"Hey, it's almost done. We'll see you in Santa Barbara in six days and nineteen hours."
"Eighteen and a half." He can hear her smile. "A woman walked up to me today. Her husband was a fireman. He died on 9/11. She said the book helped her understand. She thanked me."
"Oh, Fitz." She sounds happy, but there's a tone of languor in her voice, "I know you miss him. And I know this isn't easy, talking about it, about him, all the time; remembering, but it's the right thing. And I love you for doing it, even if I hate the fact you're away. I admire the strength, I just… I just have so much respect."
"How is it that you always know just what to say?"
"I guess I'm just Lorelai Gilmore material!"
"And, so it starts." They both laugh, throwing their heads back. Hers sinks into the pillow, his resting against the headboard. They run their hands through their hair as their breathing steadies.
"Liv…" His voice suddenly raspy. "What are you wearing?"
"Fitz…" she tries to sound firm, like the idea is absolutely insane, like there's no way in hell she's doing that; but instead, her voice comes out hitched and labored. She looks down at her mommy-covered outfit, deciding she needs to get out of her leggings.
He can hear the wheels turning in her head; they haven't done this in a while, and well – the last time he was away, he almost didn't come back, so he can understand her hesitation. But then he hears her shifting, moving, and he smiles mischievously, already getting hard. "Livvy…"
The way he hushes out her name, his voice pure sex, dissolves all her initial awkwardness. "The Navy T-shirt that still smells like you and that pair of red lacey underwear you got me for your birthday." Her voice comes out sultry, her words breathy. "The shirt is coming off though, because I'm getting incredibly hot." She lets out a quiet moan as she twists her nipple gently. "I wish you were here, running your fingers along my skin."
She's cutting up some carrot sticks for Zoey, when her phone rings the next morning. The photo on the screen makes her smile every time he calls – Nur wobbling between him and Zo; she's in diapers, trying to get away from him, trying to avoid being bathed. She presses speakerphone, the smile still evident in her voice.
"Hi."
"Hi." He sounds tired. "Good morning."
"Why are you up? Seattle is three hours behind, it's just past the crack of dawn there!"
"I couldn't sleep. So I just thought I'd call you and tell you I love you." She stops chopping for a moment, taking in his voice, there's something definitely wrong.
"Why couldn't you sleep?" He can hear the concern and he berates himself for calling her.
"It's nothing. I just… I had a weird dream. The kids were falling to the ground, and they were going to crash, and we were just standing at the side, unable to do anything."
"Aw, Fitz, honey, it was just a strange dream. Did you talk to Karen and Gerry?"
"No. It's still early, I don't want to wake them up, just because I'm having a mini-meltdown. I'm sure they're fine. I just, I just hated the feeling. I know it was just a dream, but the helplessness, it was killing me."
She can feel his mind racing, trying to make sense of whatever it is that he had seen. She can see him running his hands through his hair, than resting his face in his palms, as he exhales. "I wish I could be there. Kiss it away."
"Me too." He lets out a frustrated sigh, "I miss you. A month is a long time. Too long."
She smiles into the phone, "Only six days and thirteen hours left though. You want to talk to Zo? I'm sure she could come up with something to occupy your mind for a while."
"She's up?"
"Yeah, I was just going to take the carrot sticks to her room anyway." She heads up, a bowl in hand, phone in another; going over their plans for the summer – Santa Barbara for Karen's graduation, Costa Rica for a week, kids-free (except for Nur and an overpaid nanny); then Europe with the kids – they're just running over their mental list of all the bookings. "OK, I'll see if we can get our Europasses as soon as we land in France, and you email them again about that Notting Hill flat." She fires at him, warp-speed, as she knocks on Zoey's door and pushes it in with her elbow. "I've got Zo. I'll talk to you later. Love you." After a quick, "I love you too." She hands her the phone, kissing the top of her head, whispering into her ear, "He's a bit homesick, so can you just, you know, distract him for a bit."
Zoey grins and instead of good morning starts off with, "So tell me about Seattle's sandwiches. I read about a place where people literally queue for hours each day."
Liv smiles as she heads out, but then notices the stack of leftovers covering Zoey's desk. She pours the snack in the half-empty popcorn bowl and stacks the empty plates on top of each other. As she reaches for the last one, lifting it up, it reveals a small wooden box. The lid is off, revealing the contents and her heart sinks. It's a box of their things. A familiar set of eyes is staring at her from the photograph. A young woman's arm is around a tall man's waist. He is kissing the side of her head. A little girl is on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around the top of his head. She's grinning; that beautiful, familiar grin. They look so happy. She reaches for the photo, but then her hand just hovers above it; she's afraid to touch it. She snaps out of the moment, realizing Zoey had noticed and picks up the stack of dishes and heads down to the kitchen. She throws the leftovers away, too distracted to feel bad; and then starts washing the plates. She scrubs them, pushing the sponge into the surface; wishing it didn't glide so effortlessly across the porcelain.
"Hey." The voice startles her, making her drop the plate. It shatters in the sink, the loud noise filling the silence.
"Sorry." She utters breathlessly, trying to calm herself by pressing her hands on the cool counter surface. "I didn't hear you come in."
"It's the box of the stuff they gave you at the hospital." She says as she sits down on the stool, propping her elbows up on the countertop. Placing the box in the middle. "I found it when I was packing. I didn't know what it was at first, but then I remembered you used to show it to me. I opened it, but, but then I just stopped." Liv looks down at the shattered pieces breathing in. She picks up a tea towel and dries her hands, before sitting on a stool across from Zoey. She remembers the day they got the box. They took it from their house a day before it was auctioned off. That's all Zoey wanted from her room; a year that had passed being too long for a five year-old to mourn; too long for her to hold on to memories and hold on to a list of things she'd like to keep. She just wanted the box, and even that – she only wanted it because it was pink. She didn't remember she got it for her fourth birthday; she didn't remember them decorating it together. She just liked the pink, not realizing the flower-petals were her fingerprints; not realizing her mom's were the leaves. She took the box and Liv told the agency what to put in storage, put away, but keep – for someday. When they got home, Liv took out a paper-bag from the back of her closet and emptied it on the table, Zoey sitting behind her. They went though the items, putting them into the box, one by one. Now, now it's time to take them out.
"If there is anything in there you don't want to keep I want you to know it's OK. You can keep anything that means something, even if you can't explain what it is that it makes you feel. But if there's something you don't want, that's OK too. If you don't feel anything, that's OK too. However you feel about these things – it's OK. And I won't love you any less because of it." She squeezes the girl's hand and smiles at her tenderly. She squeezes it back, then pulles it away, hovering above the lid briefly, tracing the little fingerprints gently. She opens it.
She pulls out the photo and puts it to the side. Next she takes out a leather wallet. She opens it, fingering the satin lining. There's still money in it. A couple of scrunched up receipts. Cinema tickets. Finally she pulls out a photo of a smiling baby from behind the transparent plastic. Her finger trails the messy writing on the back, Z at Halloween. A toddler in a pumpkin costume smiles at her. She puts the photo on top of the other one, putting the wallet to the side. Next there is a pair of glasses; only the frame really, the glass gone. Maybe it got shattered in the accident, perhaps long before – maybe it was never there. There's another wallet, female. In it, only money and a folded photo; black background, white messy triangle in the middle, with a bean-shaped gap in the noise. Liv gasps, a sonogram. Zoey just stares at it for a moment, then puts it back into the wallet and places it next to the other one. Finally, there's a necklace in the corner of the box; the thin gold chain glistening in the morning sun; a little Z-shaped pendant dangling from it. She plays with it for a moment, letting it fall down her fingers, as she pulls them apart, and then closes her fist, looking at the way the shimmering shadow dances on the countertop. She finally drops it onto the photo and puts that pile back into the box. She takes the wallets and looks at Liv, looking every bit the child that she is. "I don't want these."
"Are you sure?" She just doesn't want her to regret it one day; she doesn't want her to have any regrets, not the ones that she can prevent.
The girl just nods her head as she makes her way to the bin. "I, it's a reminder of a life I don't remember, of things that never happened. The photos, they're little pieces of me, but this, their lives – that's, I don't want it. Holding on to it seems pointless."
"OK." She kisses the top of her head, before pulling her into a tight embrace, ignoring the girl's loud protests, and, Mom, I'm almost a grown up! She lets her breathe, and gives her some space; but still keeping her in a firm embrace. "Are you OK Zo? I mean this, this was a lot." She bends down slightly to be able to look straight into her eyes.
"I'm fine mom." She says with a faint smile. "I knew that stuff was out there, and now I just know exactly what it was."
"If you want to talk-"
"I know." She hugs her and props herself on her toes to kiss her cheek. "I have you, I have Fitz, Karen, Gerry, Cy. I'm good mom. Honestly." Her smile widening. "We seemed happy." She says softly.
"Yes you did. You seemed happy. And you were such a cute baby." She grabs her cheeks, and pulls gently, eliciting a protesting laugh from Zoey, who starts tickling her in defense.
"What are you two doing? Cy asks, doing his best to put on his serious face, startling them. They didn't hear him come in. He's in the basement flat, on his own, but close enough.
"Oh, Michelle." Zoey says with a faux-French accent and they both erupt in a fit of laughter.
"Not that show again." He grunts; and they just laugh in response.
"Hi." He's lying in the hotel bed; the sheets too crisp, the room too big; the silence overwhelming – he misses her, breathing next to him.
"Hi." She's in their bed, propped up on a pillow, reading; the sounds of Zoey's breathing filling up the room.
"Five days and twenty hours left." She giggles softly; she loves that he misses her as much as she misses him.
"Only." She says teasingly. And she can almost see his dramatic, wounded face. "What are you doing?"
"Serving up the sentence for my literary success." She chuckles and then adds in a hushed voice, "Don't make me laugh, I'll wake Zoey up."
"Did you guys have another Gilmore Girls marathon then?"
"Nope. We were just talking. We went through that box of her parents' things today." She pauses, closing her eyes for a moment, just focusing on his breathing, "Her mom was pregnant."
Silence. Inhale. "Wow. That's a lot to process."
"Yeah. The doctors never told me. I guess, I guess I wasn't family."
"Liv-"
"They were happy." She says, trying to choke back the tears. "They were happy. I just, I don't know how to make up for the fact that they're gone. And I'm crying now, and I'm freaking you out, and I'll wake her up, oh god." She says it all in one go, hyperventilating; inhaling, but the air never quite reaches.
"Livvy," He says in that soft baritone that he only uses on her, the tone he knows gets to her core. "Breathe for me. In-out, In-out, In-out. Come on baby, breathe." She listens to him, and her lungs start to rise rhythmically, listening to his voice. He can hear her breathing steady and he speaks, "You don't need to compensate for anything. She has a mom and a dad now; she has a grandma and Uncle Cy and she has more siblings than any teenager could possibly need, or want. She's not short of anything. Least of all love and security. She's good Livvy. She's happy."
"I just… I just feel like, they died and I got this great kid out of it. I just feel so guilty."
"Liv, it was an accident. A tragedy. And out of a worst-case situation she got a chance at happy, so stop feeling guilty about it. No one blames you for it, for none of it; least of all she."
"You promise?" She asks in a weak voice.
"I promise."
"God! I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I've been an emotional mess for the past week."
"It's OK. It's a lot. With moving, being alone with the girls, the new house; with missing me…" His voice trails off seductively.
"I am not telling you what I'm wearing." She says grinning, wiping off the not-yet-dry tears.
"I wasn't going to ask." He retorts.
"Ouch." She says in her practiced-to-perfection hurt voice.
"We both barely slept last night. And you need sleep, Livvy, you're exhausted. So, we are going to listen to each other breathe and we are going to fall asleep; and being the rational adults that we are not have any more weird dreams."
They settle under the covers; both lying on their sides – states apart – turning to each other, their bodies intertwined.
Next up – Karen's Graduation :)