Ed and Sarah spend the day apart from their family to retrieve Sarah's things from Philadelphia. Housewarming Party is coming, I promise, but I had to tie up some loose ends first. We are in early May, 2017.

When One Door Closes…

Ed and Sarah cruised down the New Jersey Turnpike early Sunday morning. In the cup holders were two venti Starbucks coffees, black regular roast for Dad and caramel macchiato for Daughter. So as to not immediately irritate her father, Sarah plugged in her phone and streamed U2 radio on Pandora, a compromise station they could both live with for the time being.

Ed took a sip and flinched. "Damn. That's still too hot. What the hell?"

"It's supposed to be hot, Daddy."

"You know, I always thought that lawsuit against McDonalds for too-hot coffee was stupid, but now I think I get it."

"What?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"A woman sued McDonalds because the coffee was too hot."

Sarah swatted at him but intentionally missed. "You're making that up."

"No I'm not."

"Did she win?"

"Yes."

Sarah Googled away and reported the details, "Yep, you're right. Settled for an undisclosed amount."

"Told ya."

The day before, after Sarah and Olivia spent the entire day going from store to store in search of the perfect table and chairs, the entire family ate dinner together and collectively convinced Sarah that Ed should go with her as previously planned. Sarah resisted until Ed finally pulled fatherly rank and told her there was no way he was allowing her to go on her own. He'd been thinking about worst-case scenarios all week, and even though he doubted Jeff would get violent, he wanted to err on the side of caution.

"If something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself," he muttered to Olivia during a brief moment alone.

Now the protective father sat with one arm draped over the wheel and the other resting along the window, enjoying the fluidity of early-morning traffic. Sarah was uncharacteristically quiet; he assumed the gravity of the trip was the cause, so he left her alone with her thoughts and got caught up in his own.

At home, Olivia was probably snuggled with Noah on the couch or maybe still in bed. He'd deposited Noah with her before he left which required him waking her up. Ed hated doing that, but he did enjoy watching her fight his efforts.

"Liv, I gotta go," he said, nuzzling under her ear. "Noah's up. You want me to bring him in here?"

"Mmmmmmmpppphhhh." She buried herself deeper into her pillow.

"You want me to take him with us?"

"Mmmmm-mmmm."

"Will you communicate in words, please?" He kissed her cheek and neck. "Maybe try opening those eyes?" He planted another open-mouth smooch on her closest eyelid, making sure it was a little sloppy.

She cringed, "Ew. That was gross!"

His lips curled into a smile as he recalled Olivia's scrunched-up face.

Sarah's frustrated voice jerked him back to the present. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you listening to me?"

No need to lie. "No."

"What's with that look on your face?"

"Huh?"

"You were thinking about Olivia, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"I knew it."

Ed shrugged. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying, before I interrupted your romantic daydream, that this will be the first time you see where I lived in Philly. You never once came there."

Ed scowled at the accusation. "I helped you move in to your first apartment."

"I've moved twice since then."

"I tend to stay in the city."

Sarah reached over and gently touched her fist to her father's cheek, "Tend-ED. With Livvie you go all over the place. Let's see…the Keys, the beach, Paris."

"When you have someone to travel with, you travel," Ed replied matter-of-factly, hoping this was not going to turn into two hours of Sarah professing her undying adoration for the state of his marriage.

"So what were ya thinkin' about?"

"I already told you."

Sarah let out an exasperated huff and then shot him a mischievous look, "No, I mean what, specifically, were you thinking about?"

Part of Ed wanted to completely blow her mind and spew the most lurid, erotic details he could possibly muster at eight a.m. on a Sunday morning in a Ford Escape with his twenty-five-year-old daughter riding shotgun just to see if something like that would finally satisfy her craving for the particulars of his life with Olivia.

"I was wondering if she was up yet."

Sarah grumbled, knowing he wasn't telling the full truth. "Why wouldn't she be up? Doesn't Noah get up at the crack of dawn? At least, he did when I watched him." She screwed up her face, "Well, that little shit better not have done that to me on purpose!"

"He didn't," Ed replied knowingly. "He's an early riser. Usually."

Sarah saw her Dad chew on the inside of his mouth in an attempt to return to a stern countenance, but he was failing miserably. "Daddy, you are soooo cuuute. I can't get over it. I. Just. Can't."

Here we go.

"Get over what? Ed grumbled.

"Sometimes I can't figure out who you love more—Olivia or Noah. You see," Sarah rubbed her chin as if she had a goatee and twisted her lips, "On one hand, when the subject is Livvie, you get all googly eyed and, like, spaced out. With Noah, you look like he's just won five Olympic medals, hit a grand slam to win the World Series, and kicked the winning field goal in the Super Bowl all in the same day."

He gave up and smiled at her. "You shoulda been a journalist."

Sarah closed her eyes and sat back reflectively, "Yeah, maybe." She slapped her knees and quickly returned to her bubbly self, "In other news, are you excited for the party?"

"Excited?"

"Yes, you know, it's an emotion that is happy plus. You're happy plus you really want something to happen because it will be fun or cause more happiness?"

Ed set his jaw as she delivered her definition. The low-key first leg of the journey had given way to full-on Sarah-led conversation-slash-interrogation, and he was pessimistic about his hopes that she would wear herself out.

"I know you're excited. You don't have to say it. Brooke and Livvie are going to talk about the menu today I think and then we'll send out invitations. Your table will be here next weekend, so it'll be here in plenty of time. I hope Livvie's work people can come because they were so nice at the wedding, and I can't wait to see Carisi again because I need to figure out exactly what his dealio is. And that Chief guy I met at the bar was nice. What's his name? Davis? Day?..."

"Dodds," Ed muttered, not thrilled she'd had drinks with the Chief.

"Yes, Dodds. And also we'll need to get a new outfit for Noey. Or maybe he can wear the seersucker pants he wore to Lion King. Omigod, omigod, omigod he was so freaking adorable. I know you saw the pictures, but in person? Ugh. Such a cutie."

Using the steering wheel controls, Ed raised the stereo volume ever so slightly, hoping Sarah would get the hint and retreat back into her thoughts for a little while. At first he thought there was no way she could keep this up for two hours, but that assumption was faulty. She had vast reserves of idle commentary.

….

"Brookey, Brookey, Lookie, Brookey!" Noah sang Brooke's name and tried to substitute as many sounds as possible for the B as he spun around the living room flying a foam airplane. He peppered in sound effects, punctuating his movements with low rumbles and an occasional whoooosh.

Brooke and Olivia sat at the island. In between them were two lists—guest names and a menu. Olivia was secretly glad that Brooke, rather than Sarah, was helping with this task. With Sarah, it was difficult to get a word in, and the party would have probably taken on proportions greater and more formal than what Olivia and Ed wanted.

"So, we have forty-ish people on this list, the invitations will say no gifts, and we're having this catered, so once the invitations are addressed, we don't have to do anything!" Brooke clapped her hands with finality, happy to be working smarter and not harder.

"I'll have to send your Dad for alcohol at some point," Olivia said, "Do you think I should hire someone to bartend? Do you know anyone? We'll pay them."

"I'm sure one of my teacher friends would appreciate the extra cash," Brooke replied, "I'll ask a few people."

Olivia scanned the guest list, "I can't believe we know this many people who we actually want in our house."

Brooke giggled, "I know, right? Sarah and I were thinking of having a little party when she moved back, but we know like three people we'd want to invite."

Olivia recalled Ed's concerns about his daughters' relationship issues, and she sensed Brooke needed some girl talk. "It seems like it would be difficult to have a huge group of friends with your job," Olivia observed, trying to broach the topic subtly.

Brooke groaned, "It is. Teaching is so all-consuming. And isolating. We don't meet many adults, like, there's no networking or business lunches or dinners with people; it's just us and the kids and their parents."

"Sounds familiar. I meet victims and criminals," Olivia said, "And with the people we work with, there's just not a lot of time to connect outside of work. So, I'm looking forward to this party. Contrary to how your father acts, I actually do like my squad."

"Dad doesn't?"

"He does," Olivia murmured, "But I also think he'd rather me not like anyone but him if you know what I mean."

Brooke burst into laughter, "He's so possessive of you. And Noah. Sarah and I talk about it all the time. It's hilarious."

"I don't know if I would call it hilarious," Olivia said, "But I get it."

Brooke squinted at Olivia, "You do? You don't get annoyed?"

"No, but, then again, he's not as bad as he used to be," Olivia smiled, thinking of how, in earlier days, Ed would scowl at anyone who gave her more than a passing glance when they were out, "He used to do it out of insecurity. Now that we're married, well, I think I've finally proven we're his."

Brooke furrowed her brow. "You don't think that's, like, objectifying?" She was surprised to hear Olivia so proudly imply she was owned by someone else.

"I never thought of it that way." They heard the foam airplane hit something. "Noah, come away from the furniture, sweet boy. Fly your plane closer to us." Olivia finished answering the question, "We were both so tentative at first…when we finally talked about where we were headed and what we expected, we realized we had a lot in common, but one of those things was a common, um, fear, that we would lose each other."

"That makes sense. And you both must have been relieved."

"We were."

Brooke flipped the pen over and over in her hand and stared down at the countertop. When the light hit at the right angle, red flecks shone in the dark gray granite. "When you were in your twenties, did you date a lot?"

"A lot of first dates."

"Yeah," Brooke sighed, "Me too."

She left the door to her personal life ajar, so Olivia opened hers as well, "For me, I was focused on work and getting promoted. I never had much time. It's like you said about your job—I knew mostly cops and lawyers. And I dated cops and lawyers for the most part."

"You dated lawyers?"

"Two of them."

"Wow."

"But, the thing is, Brooke," Olivia made sure to look her in the eyes, "If I would have met someone who…made me feel like your Dad makes me feel, I would have made the time. I know it can be frustrating, but, try not to let these first dates get to you, if…that's a concern of yours."

Brooke ran her fingers through her bobbed blonde hair and tucked it behind her ears. Olivia studied her intently. There was no doubt she was Ed's daughter—she and Sarah both had his blue eyes and high cheekbones, but Brooke's features were less rigid, her face was rounder, and her deeply-set eyes made her seem like she was perpetually deep in thought.

"I don't want to bother you with it," Brooke said, biting her bottom lip.

"You're never bothering me, Brooke."

"I really thought Sonny and I had something good going on." The words shot out of Brooke's mouth as if she'd been fighting to keep them unsaid for a long time. Olivia waited for her to elaborate, but Brooke only resumed flipping the pen.

"Why thought?"

"We always have fun when we hang out, but it seems like I'll never be a priority. He works really hard. He wants so badly to impress you," Brooke winced, "I don't know if I was supposed to say that."

Olivia grinned, "Oh,that is definitely not a secret."

Brooke looked relieved, "And when he's not working, he's helping with Jesse or helping someone in his family. I don't think he has room in his life for me."

She sure had Carisi pegged. Olivia had a hard time refuting that conclusion. "How…serious…did things get with the two of you?"

Brooke didn't seem at all uncomfortable with the question. "Let me put it to you this way. You've seen more of my skin than he has."

Olivia's face changed from concerned to amused, "Well, maybe that's a good thing. Refreshing. Gentlemanly."

"Yeah," Brooke replied sarcastically, suggesting she wished Carisi was a little less gallant, "He's extremely gentlemanly. What is it with guys? Either they want to get in your pants right away or they're too careful about waiting for the right time."

As often happened with Brooke and Sarah, Olivia wasn't sure how much of her own relationship to use as a tool to counsel Brooke. Lieutenant Benson did not have a circle of confidantes. The whole time she and Ed were seeing one another, the only person she had to help gauge the relationship was Dr. Lindstrom. So, sometimes she was tempted to talk to Brooke and Sarah as if they were her friends rather than her stepdaughters. There was some gray area there, but Olivia never wanted their conversations to turn awkward. That risk was almost nonexistent with Sarah; Brooke, on the other hand, was less likely to demand and be comfortable with personal details from the Tucker marriage. In fact, she was usually the one to chasten her sister when Sarah got too pushy.

So, when Brooke asked Olivia if there was ever a time when she doubted Ed's affection for her, Olivia chose her words carefully.

"It took a long time for the two of us to figure out exactly what we were," Olivia began, "It's hard to describe, but, because of our history, your Dad had to do a lot of convincing at first. It took a while for me to accept that the real Ed was not the IAB Ed. But once we got over that hurdle…no, there was never a time when I doubted him. And, he admitted this later on, he was always ahead of me, emotion-wise, but he respected that I needed more time and he gave me space."

Brooke's eyes filled with fascination, and, for a minute, resembled and sounded like her sister, "That is so romantic," she purred. "So, so romantic. But, you know what? I'm not positive I want someone in my life right now. I kind of like doing what I want when I want."

"I understand that, too," Olivia replied, "One hundred percent understand. You're a strong, independent woman and there's nothing wrong with that. Don't force something that doesn't feel right. So, if you like hanging out with Carisi, I say hang out with him. But if that's hard to do without having other expectations…then maybe being his friend isn't so healthy for you if he's not reciprocating."

Brooke checked her watch. It was still before noon and too early for the rosé she brought, so she refilled her coffee instead. "That's good advice, Liv. Thanks."

Olivia patted the top of Brooke's hand. "You're welcome."

"You know," Brooke shyly diverted her eyes, "I never wanted to be a mom or a wife, and after seeing multiple therapists, I came to the conclusion that was because what I saw growing up—Mom and Dad basically living separate lives, Mom basically stealing us away to Long Island, getting remarried, having Aidan—all of that turned me off, ya know?"

Olivia pressed her lips together and nodded knowingly while simultaneously trying to hide her shock that Brooke had seen therapists. She'd never mentioned it.

"So I think I never tried, with the guys I've dated, I've gone into it with a bad attitude. But now I do."

"You try?"

"Well, I'm trying. Which is why I'm frustrated with Sonny. He's a great guy, so nice, and I could see myself with him…but my point is, Liv, that I'm trying because I've seen you and Dad and the way marriage and family is supposed to be."

Olivia blinked back tears. Considering the big picture, it was only recently that she realized the way things were supposed to be, so not only was she elated that Brooke noticed, but she was thrilled to set the example.

…

Sarah and Ed arrived at the Washington Square row house she had shared with Jeff since last summer. The incredibly narrow street necessitated Ed parking partially on the sidewalk and he muttered something about Sarah paying for the ticket if one appeared under the windshield wiper. As Sarah predicted, Jeff was at work, and after a tense two minutes waiting for Sarah to find her keys, she opened the front door and led her father inside.

"I'd give you the grand tour," Sarah said, "But who cares." They walked up a half flight of stairs to the main living area. The house was narrow, and the kitchen was tightly situated on one side of the wall, opposite a dinette set which Ed doubted would hold more than two place settings. The living area was large enough for a two-cushion couch, chair, and ottoman. The floors were dark hardwood and the walls were painted white; all fixtures and accent pieces were black. The walls were a visual tribute to Philadelphia—a large nighttime skyline panorama, a vintage Phillies program, and an impressionist painting of the Liberty Bell. Ed thought it looked sleek and clean, but he noted that the décor and general ambiance was far from Sarah's taste. He wondered if she'd ever bothered making herself at home here.

Sarah ran downstairs to what she said was a storage area and came back with two large plastic tubs. She opened and closed drawers and cabinets, tossing in selected cookware. Ed saw no method to her selection process; it appeared she was taking what she liked regardless if the pots, pans, or cutlery were parts of sets. She skipped the living room, and then asked Ed to follow her upstairs with the other plastic tub. In that container went bath towels that looked unused and sheets that were still in their original packages. She tossed two suitcases on the bedroom floor and filled it with what remained of her wardrobe including a ridiculously large collection of shoes. She packed silently, leaving Ed to wander around.

The same hardwood floors and white walls were carried throughout the upper level, except for the bathroom tile which looked like some type of brushed concrete. There was one other bedroom which Jeff used as an office and a place for more garish Phillies gear. Perhaps it was a guy thing, but Ed expected the house to be in bachelorhood disarray. On the contrary, the home was so neat Ed wondered if it was actually on the market.

"Sare, Jeff owns this house, right? You didn't buy it with him?"

"Right," she called from inside the closet. "Why?"

"Just makin' sure."

Ed sent an update to Olivia who took a little while to respond. When she did, it was with an apology. They went out to lunch and her phone had remained buried in her purse on silent. Sarah was still rifling through the closet and cramming items in the suitcases, so he went downstairs and took a seat on the couch. The television controls looked complicated, so he scanned articles and emails on his phone before growing bored with that and flipped through his photos instead.

He was about to ask Sarah for a status report when the door opened and Jeff bounded up the stairs and jump-stopped when he got to the top and saw Ed.

"Oh, hey, Ed, uh, I guess that's your car out there, huh?"

Ed rose, "Yeah. Sarah's here, getting some things. You need me to move it?"

"Nah, it's ok there for now."

The two men awkwardly looked around and past each other until Sarah came down.

"Jeff. Oh. I thought you were at the game."

"Game's not until later this afternoon," he replied.

Ed searched for some emotion between the two of them, but there was neither affection nor animosity. Jeff regarded her with the rueful resignation of a man who knew his marriage was lost, and Ed had never seen Sarah's face so unanimated in his life.

"I, uh," Sarah stammered, "I'm getting some things to take back to New York."

"Are you coming back?" The question was more businesslike than impassioned.

Sarah glanced at Ed who, feeling confident that Sarah would be safe if he left them alone to talk, offered to leave for a while. "I'm gonna go for a walk," he said, "Sare, text me when you're ready to go."

"If you turn left, the first street you come to has places to eat and drink," Jeff said helpfully, "If you turn right on that street it'll take you to the touristy stuff."

Ed mumbled his thanks and let himself out. Before he ventured in search of a bar, he informed his wife that he and Sarah would be back in New York later than originally planned.

…..

Olivia told Brooke about the unanticipated Sarah-Jeff meeting, and Brooke met the news with satisfaction. "Good," she said, "Hopefully they'll say everything that needs to be said, and she can stop with all this crap. She's driving me nuts with this giving him a month thing, and then whining about how she doesn't want to have to say she's been divorced."

Noah jabbed his fingers at Olivia's phone screen and murmured, "Stop crap, stop da crap."

Brooke covered her mouth, genuinely horrified, "I'm so sorry, Liv."

Olivia rubbed Noah's head, "It'll wear off. He hasn't repeated anything we said on moving day…yet."

"I'm turning into Sarah."

"Stop. It's fine." Olivia grabbed the check and reached for her purse, but Brooke stopped her.

"On me. You guys always pay."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." Brooke plopped her card down and took a sip of her half-full beer. "Do you want me to take Noah for the rest of the day? Do you have anything you want to get done?"

"Actually, I don't. We're going to maybe stop at the park, take a nap, and get ready for the week. Your welcome to join us of course, but I'm sure you want some time for yourself."

Brooke rubbed her temples, "I have papers to grade and I've been putting it off, so that's what I'll be doing. But, let me know if you get a call or something. Noah can always help."

"I good helper, Brookey."

"You are, No! Whatcha gonna learn in school tomorrow?"

"You come wiff me?"

"Uh-uh, I have to go teach the big kids."

Noah handed his mother the phone and folded his hands in front of him as if he were broaching a serious conversation, "We do 'panish and maff. Then art."

"Who teaches you art?"

"Miss Amy."

"Is she nice?"

"Uh-huh."

"What words do you say in Spanish?"

"HOLA!"

"What else?"

"ADIOS!"

"Anything else?"

"We do da colors. Rojo is red.

Olivia smiled proudly, "Tell her your favorite color."

"Azzzzzzzzzzzuuuuuuuul!"

Brooke grinned, "Wow, your pronunciation is on point, brother. Or should I say hermano?

"Si," Noah answered, and, to their surprise added after a bit of thinking, "hermana!"

"Holy crr—cow!" Brooke exclaimed.

"Wow, sweet Noah," Olivia cooed, "You are doing so well with your Spanish!"

"I talk 'panish with Senorita 'Melia."

Olivia explained Senorita Amelia was studying to become a Kindergarten teacher, and that reminded Brooke of her own job search.

"I should hear back from the schools where I interviewed starting this week," she said, "Fingers crossed."

"Do you have a preference?"

"Nope. I love both schools. And the one, I think, is where Noah would go. Wouldn't it be awesome if I was your teacher, No?"

"You nice teacher Brookey."

Olivia finished her wine and collected her and Noah's things before sliding out of the booth. "I bet, this time next week, you'll be trying to decide which school to turn down," Olivia predicted.

"Thanks, Liv. I hope so."

They approached the corner where they had to turn in opposite directions. Brooke had been holding Noah's hand and she stooped down to hug him. "Love you, little man. I'll see you later this week, ok?"

"K, Brookey! You pick me up from day care?"

Brooke smoothed his hair, "Maybe, pal. I'll text Mommy."

"I like eating pizza wiff you."

Heart melted, Brooke changed the maybe to a yes. "How about Thursday or Friday?" She looked up at Olivia, "Does that work?"

"It does" Olivia answered, "but you don't have to."

"I can't resist," Brooke said, "You're too charming, Noah."

"You tarming!"

"No, you're charming!"

"You tarming!"

Brooke held her hands up in surrender and giggled, "You've been spending too much time with Sarah!"

…..

Ed received Sarah's text nearly two hours after he left them alone to hash out whatever it was they needed to hash out. He waited for her outside. Jeff helped her bring the boxes to the foyer, but Ed's former son-in-law was nowhere to be found as Ed and Sarah transferred the cargo to the SUV. After the final box was loaded, Sarah removed her house key from the ring and left it on the shelf inside the door. She didn't stop to collect herself or take a moment to allow the gravity of the situation to sink in; she simply said "all set" and jumped into the passenger seat.

Since leaving the city proper, Sarah had been softly singing along to the music, tapping the rhythm on her knees and watching the scenery pass. She was waiting for her Dad to ask her about the protracted conversation, but he was silent and almost too passive. Sarah assumed he was annoyed the whole ordeal took so long; she honestly hadn't figured Jeff would come home, but she was glad he showed up. Closure already felt good.

Ever the social creature, even in imperfect times, Sarah finally had to break the silence.

"Dad, can I ask you a question?"

Ed nodded and waited for her inquiry.

"Are you disappointed in me?"

Ed took a quick glance in her direction. Her head was against the window; her voice sounded steady, but he wondered if she was tearing up behind her aviator sunglasses.

"No, Sare. I'm not disappointed in you."

"I don't believe you."

He took a deep breath and wished Olivia was there with them. She knew how to handle things like this. "Why are you asking me if you're not going to believe what I say? When have I lied to you?"

Sarah conceded the point. "Sorry. Go ahead. You're not disappointed in me…but what?"

"But…you are a smart, successful young woman, Sare. You're kind and fun to be around. I am not disappointed in you. I am," Ed paused, unsure of how she was going to take what he was about to say, especially since they were trapped in a car, "I am worried about you."

He felt her eyes shoot inquisitive lasers in his direction and pretended to be extra cognizant of the road in front of him.

"Worried about what exactly?"

Ed took a moment to collect and organize his thoughts. "I'm going to tell you, but I don't want you to freak out."

"Ok."

"I love you, Sare, and I want you to be happy."

"I know, Daddy."

"And one of the things I like best about you is your energy—you're always moving, you get things done, you like to take care of people."

"Yeah."

"But I don't think you take care of yourself."

"I don't?" Sarah was pretty sure moving back to New York and taking the new job qualified as taking care of herself, but she listened carefully as Ed explained himself.

"You're too concerned about what other people think of your decisions. So concerned, that I think you make decisions based on what you think you're supposed to do rather than what you want to do."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"There's a fine line separating the two."

"Explain."

Ed wanted to audibly groan, but he held back after he quickly realized Sarah didn't completely understand. He didn't want to use her marriage as an example, but there really was no other choice. "You didn't really want to get married, did you?"

"At first I did."

"At first. But at some point you changed your mind."

"Obviously."

"And you got married anyway."

Sarah saw where he was going and came to the conclusion on her own. "I did..." She thought about the multiple times she doubted her decision and berated herself for not following her instincts to end it before she and Jeff exchanged vows. "It didn't feel right," she murmured, "But it happened anyway because of what you said. All of it…felt like an obligation."

Ed's face contorted, "You can't live your life like that."

"That's what the shrink says."

"Shrink?"

Sarah played with the leather tassels on her purse. "I've had a few sessions. It really helped. I shoulda probably went a long time ago. Livvie set it up for me."

"She did?"

"I asked her not to tell you."

Ed couldn't pinpoint exactly why he felt let down. He and his wife shouldn't be keeping things from one another, but, most bothersome, was that Sarah hadn't wanted him to know.

"I didn't want you to think less of me," she added as explanation.

"I don't think that."

"But you think therapy is a bunch of crap probably."

Now Ed was annoyed. "How can you say that?" He retorted sharply, "As you obviously know, my wife sees a therapist. If it's helping you, why in the hell would I think it's a bunch of crap? You don't think Olivia keeps the fact that she sees a shrink from me, do you?"

"No."

Ed puffed out his chest, exasperated, wondering what else the women in his life had shielded from him.

"But she has real problems."

"What are you talking about?"

Sarah shifted in her seat so her back was against the door, "Brooke and I found out about what happened to her. When we sorta stalked her that time we surprised you? Remember?" Ed nodded, "Well, we were just Googling to figure out where to find her, but all this stuff about that guy came up. We fell down a rabbit hole and read everything. It was horrible."

He cringed. Now what was he supposed to do? "You haven't asked her about it, have you?"

"No way!" The question insulted Sarah, "We have more tact than that!"

"Well, don't, alright?"

"We weren't planning on it. I wish I woulda never read about it, because I'm sure it was worse than what they reported."

Ed rubbed his eyes. "It was."

There was something ominous and haunting in those two words that frightened Sarah, so she did what she did best—changed the subject. Before he knew it, Ed Tucker was listening to Sarah drone on about the annoying people she worked with, her hopes for purchasing her own Manhattan condo soon, and, of course, Ed and Olivia's housewarming party.

….

"Mommy, I do the bubbly baff again?" Noah asked, sounding slightly distracted because he was also trying to walk a straight line within the hardwood slats as if he were taking a DUI road test.

"Sure, sweet boy. Let's do that now. It's almost bedtime."

"Don't wanna."

"You have to sleep so your brain's all ready to learn tomorrow. Then, when you go for pizza with Brookey you can speak more Spanish with her."

Noah's hand flew to his head. "Brain in here."

"Yup," she went over and picked Noah up. Speaking in a high-pitched silly voice, she said, "And your brain says, 'please Mister Noah go to sleep so I can help you be a smart boy for your teachers tomorrow'."

"Have to take baff first, brain!"

"Sounds good to me, Mister Noah!"

"Gonna be a bubbly baff, brain!"

Olivia carried him to the master bathroom and, when she turned on the jets, Noah squealed with delight and went about squirting Mr. Bubble in the running water.

While she supervised Noah as he played with his toys, an idea occurred to Olivia. After such a long, exhausting day, Ed probably would appreciate his first Jacuzzi tub experience. She scrambled to wash Noah's hair and hustled him out of the bath and into a towel. She felt a tinge of guilt as she speedily read the stories and smothered her son with kisses, thanking him for tolerating this expedited routine without objection.

"Night, night, sweet Noah. I love you."

"Lub you, Mommy!"

Noah curled up with Bernie and mumbled softly, soothing himself to sleep.

Olivia frantically pulled items from drawers and closets.

She planned to be in the water when Ed came home.

….

Olivia timed things perfectly. She arranged and lit the candles, put on smooth jazz, poured two glasses of wine, and measured the bubble bath—the adult peppermint-menthol version which was supposed to tingle the skin. Ed texted her earlier, reporting he was helping Sarah unload and would be home in a half hour. With minutes to spare, she filled the tub, turned on the jets, and lowered herself into the water.

Ed entered silently. When he returned home during normal hours, he typically called her name as soon as he opened the door. Slightly bitter about missing Noah's bedtime routine, he tiptoed into his son's room and kissed his head lightly. Noah didn't move, and Ed replaced the covers he'd kicked off before going to his own bedroom.

When he saw the empty bed, empty chair, and cracked bathroom door, he assumed Olivia was finishing her nighty routine and would be out soon. "Liv, I'm home," he called softly and collapsed on top of the comforter. After several minutes and no sign of her, he rapped on the door. "Liv?"

"Come in," He heard her say, her voice partially drowned out by the rumbling water.

He pushed the door open and smiled at the sight of her—head propped against a rolled towel, one leg resting on the side of the tub, suds streaking along her calf, and every other limb submerged in the roiling water. He took in the sultry scene—his naked wife illuminated only by candlelight, the crisp, earthy aroma emanating from the tub, the combined sounds of the jets and the music, and the two wine glasses, equally full, waiting to be used for a toast.

Olivia, glowing with satisfaction, motioned for him to join her. Ed quickly disrobed and slid in behind her. Olivia leaned back against his chest and put her hands on his thighs and moaned softly as he gently massaged her breasts.

"Welcome home," she purred. "I missed you."

He closed his eyes. Holding her body and absorbing the force of the water immediately put him at ease. "Mmmmm," he hummed.

"Everything go ok?"

"Mmmmhmmmm."

"She clear everything up with Jeff?"

Ed repeated his earlier response. He thought he would come home and retell the day's happenings, including Sarah letting it slip that she was going to therapy, but he was weary of talking. Olivia, ever the keen observer, stopped asking questions. She flipped over momentarily to kiss him and then sunk back into his arms.

It wasn't long before Ed started kissing her—first on the head, then the cheek, then her neck. He got more aggressive with his hands. The two of them jostled and slipped as they fell into a deep kiss.

Needing more room to operate, they stepped from the tub and immediately fell back into each other. Not bothering to dry off and too impatient to travel the few feet to the bed, Ed backed her against the double vanity, unable to hold off any longer. He cupped her backside with both hands and thrust into her, biting at her neck when she threw her head back in response. The minty bubble bath still lingered on her skin and the scent propelled him into a euphoric, superhuman state. He was supporting almost all her weight but it was no burden. He felt so strong and masculine and held her tighter. His ego inflated even more when he heard her implore, "harder, Ed, oh, fuuuuuck," before she started to quiver. Her upper body jerked back into his and she pawed at his close-cropped hair. Her heels banged against the cabinets-the thuds echoed throughout the bathroom.

"Olivia."

Sated, he sat her between the sinks and lined her collarbone with kisses, concentrating on the spot where the hickey had started to fade. She ran her fingertips lightly over his back, tweaking his already-sensitive nerves.

Suddenly, he stopped. Olivia looked down and stroked his head; his eyes were closed and his pursed lips were pressed against the side of her breast. He was completely at peace. She let him remain there for several minutes. When he felt her caresses wane, he let out a pathetic whine until she resumed the motion.

Finally, he spoke using words.

"Liv?"

"Yes?"

She felt his lips move against her skin and shivered a little.

"I missed you, too."

…

#Tuckson