July 1991 – 3 years old

"Alright, my Little Ladies," Remington announced, as he opened the door to the Explorer and lifted first Olivia, then Sophia, to the ground. "Let's remember the rules and mind your manners."

The girls nodded happily, each taking one of his hands and skipping along beside him towards the grocery store's door.

Inside, he selected a cart. He waited for the girls to grip the side of the cart before moving forward.

"Blueberries or blackberries, Sophie Bird?"

"Blueberries, please," she answered, looking to Olivia for her nod of approval. Remington carefully examined the array of pre-packaged blueberries and set the carton in their car.

"Honeydew or cantaloupe, Livvie Bee?"

"Honeydew!" Livvie answered, as Sophie nodded enthusiastically. He peered down at his small daughter.

"Let's give that another go, shall we?" he suggested with a lift of his brows. She cocked her head to the side and nibbled at her lower lip. Her lips formed a small 'o' and her face lit up, proud of herself for understanding her Da's cue.

"Honeydew, please!"

"Well done, a stór," he praised. "Honeydew, it is."

And so it went throughout the produce section, most choices eagerly made, although here-and-there there was an occasional choice the girls viewed as 'the lesser of two evils.'

"Broccoli or Brussel sprouts, Livvie Bee?"

"Boccoli," she answered with a put upon sigh, then added, reluctantly, "Please," although it seemed somehow worse to have to ask nicely for something she didn't like.

The girls and Remington looked forward to weekend errands. The girls felt important being included in such a grown up job, and it was time for them, alone, with their Da.

That they managed to charm Da of a treat on these trips that Mommy would frown upon, only sweetened the day.

What the family didn't particularly enjoy was the attention they so often garnered. Any number of times, as they traversed up and down the aisles, they would be stopped by admirers.

From older women: "Aren't you girls the prettiest little things…" inevitably ending in one or both of the girls having their cheeks pinched.

From elderly men: "Better have a shot gun loaded and ready to go, young man…" accompanied by a laugh and a swat to Remington's back.

Then there were the women, of the on the prowl variety. Had he realized while still a confirmed bachelor that women seemed to find a man with a child irresistible… well, he could have saved a small fortune on wine, dinner and theater tickets had he just handed over a bit of blunt and rented a small tyke for a few hours.

Unless, of course, those tykes were like Olivia, who proved, once more, to be her mother's child in spirit if not in appearance. The little girl possessed an uncanny ability, at such a tender age, to differentiate between friendly interaction and conversation designed to test the waters of availability and interest but had yet to learn her mother's restraint and panache when it came to staking her territory. And, inevitably, Sophie looked to Livvie to sort out who was friend and who was foe, then reacted accordingly.

Such as the case with a tall, tanned, stacked and skimpily attired blonde who approached them on that day.

"Well, aren't the two of you just adorable," the woman oozed, stooping down to the girls' eye level while providing Remington an intentional view of her ample, and barely covered, bosom. She focused her attention on Sophie. "And you, remind me of myself when I was your age." Livvie's narrowed eyes sent Sophie scampering away from the cart to hide behind her father, grasping his legs and peeking out from behind them.

"My mommy says we shouldn't ever talked to strangers," Livvie announced, her chin tipping up a notch.

"Mind your manners, a stór," Remington admonished, gently tugging a braid to soften the words. "Mommy also expects you to be polite," he reminded, while giving the woman a 'what can you do' smile.

"She's just the spitting image of you, isn't she?"the woman commented, lifting a pair of predatory eyes to him.

"On the surface," he agreed, "But all my wife where it matters most." The woman's eyes glanced at his left hand, which he'd left intentionally in clear view. Noting the wedding band lying there, she quickly moved on her way.

Shopping resumed, with Sophie back in place at the side of the cart after the woman's departure, Remington addressed her.

"I do believe it's your turn to pick our special meal this week, a thaisce," he reminded.

"Pizza?" she asked, her green eyes looking up at him hopefully. He chuckled low in his throat. His wife and eldest daughter, it would seem, shared similar ideas of a 'special meal.'

"Pizza, it is," he easily agreed. While not the biggest fan of the fare, he did enjoy the time spent in the kitchen with his daughters creating it. "Any thought as to the toppings?"

"Sausage, peppers and tomatoes?" Ah, a bit of himself coming out in her now. If one was to eat pizza, it was with a bit of a gourmet flair. His smiled widened.

"Pineapple!" Olivia shouted the interjection. His face fell.

"No denying your Holt roots, is there, Livvie Bee?" She cocked her head to the side and looked up at him, puzzled.

"Huh?" His smile reappeared and he tapped a finger to the end of her nose.

"Just having a bit of fun with you. Let's gather what it is we need, hmmmm?"

A return to the produce section followed, to collect peppers, pineapple, sun dried tomatoes, as well as fresh basil and oregano, garlic and tomatoes for the sauce. The gourmet section gave up mozzarella, Parmigiano Reggiano and Pecorino Romano cheeses.

It was however, the final aisle of the day that served up an unexpected crisis. Picking up a two pound bag of flour and tossing it in the cart, Remington turned around to find Olivia no longer holding on to the cart, as per the rules of their shopping expeditions. Turning his head this way, then that, he found her staring at something on the opposite side of the aisle, about fifteen feet away. Pulling a box off the shelf, she clutched it reverently to her chest.

"What have you there, Livvie?" he inquired as she returned to the cart. Taking the box from her, he peered at the long-eared white rabbit and the colorful display of cereal in a bowl. He shook his head and returned it to the shelf. "You know how Mommy and I feel about such. We prefer you to have a hot, nu—"

" I love it," she pleaded, lip beginning to quiver. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

"Hmmm," he hummed, "I think not. You've never had it so would have no idea—"

Livvie pulled the box back down and hugged it.

"But, Trix are for kids," she countered, eyes welling as she realized she was about to be denied what she saw as her very own treasure.

"Nevertheless, the answer is no," he told her firmly.

Then, to his utter mortification, Livvie let out an ear piercing wail that drew the looks of anyone nearby.

"Mommy, Mommy," Livvie called as she raced through the house with Sophie nipping at her heels. "Look what Da gotted me and Sophie!" She held up the box of cereal that she'd insisted on holding the entire ride home. Laura leveled a steady gaze on Remington as he appeared in the living room, looking haggard and carrying bags of groceries. "So, I see." She took the box and sat it on the counter. "Girls, go upstairs and change into play clothes, please." As the girls ran for the stairs, Laura shifted Holt to her other hip, while directing a pair of raised brows to her husband.

"Laura, I promise you, I spent the morning at the movies, and not in a pleasant way," he began before she could dig into him.

"Oh?"

"First, we had to play out a scene from that sentimental fluff of a movie you enjoyed so much," he dropped the bags on the island in the kitchen, and gesticulated with a hand. "The one with a baby and the three blokes? Droves of women flocking them at the park because of the cute little tyke?"

"Three Men and A Baby?" she offered, dryly.

"That's the one," he agreed, as he began putting away the items requiring refrigeration. "Then it was on to a scene straight out of The Exorcist, Livvie wailing and carrying on right there, in the middle of the market, as though she were possessed." Leaving the door to the refrigerator standing open, he turned to face her, while rubbing at his face. "I was just waiting for her head to begin spinning around, while she spewed endless amounts of—" She held up her hand, stopping him.

"I've got the picture," she cut him off, and held up the box of cereal. "So, you gave in to a temper tantrum."

"You're missing the point," he argued. "Our sweet, well-mannered child…"

"Who you often point out has a temper to rival my own..."

"Turned into this… this… child possessed!" he finished.

"So you gave in to her, establishing a precedent that whenever she wishes to get her way, she should act out," she summarized. He looked at her, stunned by her lack of support.

"What else would you have me do? People were lining up at the end of the aisles to see—"

"You pick her up and walk out," she answered, cutting him off. "What you don't do is teach our very strong willed child that such behavior will get her what she wants!"

"But, we'd completed the shop—"

"Olivia!" Laura called out, as she stepped to where she could be seen from the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Yes, Mommy?" Livvie called back, looking over the railing and down at her mother, Sophie next to her side.

"Come down here, please." Livvie recognized that particular tone, and looked to her sister for help. Sophie quickly shook her head and backed away. Livvie puffed out a breath and slowly, very slowly made her way down the stairs. "Come with me, please." Livvie shuffled her feet behind her mother, eventually making it to the kitchen where she stood waiting. Laura held up the box of cereal. Livvie glanced from the box, to her mother's stern face, to her father, giving the last a look that clearly said 'you tattled' while the look on her father's face clearly said 'you got me in trouble with your mother.'

"Yes, Mommy?" Livvie asked, putting on her best smile, hoping to charm her mother.

"I hear you weren't on your best behavior at the store with Da." The smile faltered. "In fact, I hear you had a temper tantrum, embarrassing him, your sister… and yourself, all to get a box of cereal you know we do not allow you to have. Is that right?"

"But I love it," Livvie implored, hoping the line might work on her mother, whereas her father was immune.

"That neither changes our rules nor excuses your behavior." She paused for a long second, then nodded her head, decision made. "So, there will be no cereal," she emphasized the point by stepping on the pedal of the trashcan, and dropping the box into the receptacle, much to Livvie heartbreak, "And, you'll spend the afternoon in your room, after which you'll apologize to your Da and Sophie for embarrassing them. Do you understand?" Tears welled in Livvie's eyes, then spilled over when she nodded.

"Yes," she answered, around her quivering lip.

"One more thing: If you ever behave like you did this morning, again, you can stay home with me while Da, Sophie and Holt run errands. Understood?" The threat of taking away her beloved weekend mornings with Da made its impact, and the tears flowed freely. Unable to speak around her tears, she nodded her head. "Then, go up to your room."

Livvie fled the room, and ran up the stairs. Automatically, Remington stepped towards the kitchen doorway.

"Hold it, buster!" Laura ordered. He turned and gave her a look as pitiful as Olivia's had been

"But, Laura, she's –"

"Take one more step, and you'll be doing some crying of your own on the couch for a long time to come, Mr. Steele." He looked prepared to protest, but seeing the look in her eyes, he swallowed… hard.

"Awwwww."

Olivia threw herself on her bed and sobbed into her pillow. She didn't like it when Mommy and Da were upset with her. That her treasured cereal was in the trash only made things all the worse.

Sophie peeked into Livvie's room and seeing the coast was clear, climbed up on her sister's bed and lay next to her.

"It'll be okay, Livvie," she assured, then wrapped an arm around Livvie, prepared to stay as long as her sister needed her.