A/N: We are coming up on the end of this one, most likely only two chapters left. Thanks for coming on this journey with me.
The Hilton, Washington DC, Elizabeth
I'm so tired. So incredibly tired. Henry's ordering room service, which is good, I haven't eaten in hours, maybe days. I don't even know anymore. In the last twenty-two hours, I have been ran all over this city. I had to debrief with the CIA, and the FBI, and the DOD. I had to dodge reporter after reporter while traversing the city. I had to meet with the Vice President or rather Acting President soon to be actual President once the Senate completes its impeachment vote tomorrow, or today rather. But it was all worth it. The second I walked into this hotel room and felt like I was home, it was worth it. I had forgotten what home felt like, it's not a place. Home is people. And when I walked into this suite and Henry was waiting. And I knew my kids were asleep in the next rooms, exhausted in their own right. But they are all there and I am with them, I am home.
But, there is a different level of reality setting in now. My kids are so big and I've missed so much. I don't even know them, not really. And they don't know me, either. The mom that left them isn't the same woman they will be getting back. I'm jaded by life and trauma. And when I think too hard about what happens next, I want to run. And the poor little twins, well they lost their mother today. The only saving grace of that being, at least she can be visited in prison. And Henry, it's not like we can just pick up where we left off either. Soon the novelty will wear off and the hurt and anger will set in. There is so much to fix, and so much to build and the foundation might need re-poured too. I feel the restlessness starting in my toes, I want to run away from the damage I caused. I want to run, because I know what it's going to take to fix it. And the task is so big and daunting.
The Hilton, Henry, 2014
She's been staring at the blank TV screen for ten minutes while I order her food. Just staring, unmoving while her leg bounces restlessly. It's a restlessness I know all too well. She's always been a runner. It's in her bones. She overcame it once, when she agreed to build a life with me. Maybe she can do it again. But the doubt is creeping in, the fear of the unknown starting to press upon my senses. But I have faith, and that's the one thing Elizabeth never has.
I walk over to sit with her, slowly and gently as to not startle her. Because she startles now, more in the last five days than in the entire time I known her. Her eyes don't move from the TV and her leg doesn't stop bouncing.
"Elizabeth?" She moves her head slowly towards me, uncertainty written on her furrowed brow.
"I don't know what we do now." I nod, because I don't either. I don't know how we rebuild this. I don't know how I explain any of what happened today to my twins. And I don't know how to strap in the rollercoaster of healing we find ourselves on. But I know that we can figure it out, we did once.
"Do you… Do you remember the night we found out you were pregnant with Stevie?" Her brows furrow tighter in her confusion to the question, I offer a smile and silently ask her to bear with me.
"Yes, of course I do." There is a slight smile on her face now, as she reminisces.
"Do you remember the first thing you said when the stick had two lines?" I want to prompt her into the answer, let her calm herself down.
"I don't know what we do now." Her smile increases in size and dances in her eyes. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
"We figured it out then, and we'll figure it out now. Just one day and one conversation at a time." I assure her. The knock on the door interrupts our almost third kiss. I get up to get our food. Not quite the dinner she dreamed of, but very, very close. I wheel the food cart over to her on the couch.
"Penne alla vodka." I make a show of removing the cloche covering the plate. "And Sparkling Apple Juice" I raise the bottle, and she laughs. It's the laugh that changed my world. The laugh that made me realize that I wanted her in my life forever. The laugh that I thought I might never hear again. I hand her plate and a fork. And I pour her some cider into a champagne flute. I pour myself some too.
"To staring over." I raise my glass in a toast.
"To starting over." She clinks her glass against mine. And we sip on the sweet taste of starting over.
The Hilton, Stevie, 2014
It takes me a second to adjust to my surroundings when I wake up. But then I remember. I practically jump out of bed to find her. I need to see my mom, to know that it is real. I rush out of the bedroom and then come to a stop. They're asleep. My Dad half sitting half laying in the corner of the couch, and my mom snuggled into his chest. She is gripping his shirt, tight, her knuckles white. I debate waking them up when she whimpers. And I remember everything that I heard yesterday. Everything that my mom went through. I can't let her relive it in her sleep. I quietly walk closer to them.
"Mom" I gently nudge her shoulder. She startles and sits straight up panicked and pushing my dad away from her. My dad wakes up grabbing at his ribs that were just unintentionally hit. Mom's hands shoot up to protect her face as she flinches back. But then, she looks at me now fully awake and realization crosses her face.
"Stevie" She visibly relaxes and guilt crosses her face. She reaches for me, and I find myself wrapped up in my mom's arms. It's a place I remember and have dreamed about since she's been gone.
"I'm so sorry baby girl. I'm so so sorry." She whispers to me and I feel the sincerity of her words and I hug her tighter. I cherish this moment, as soon, everyone else will be awake and they'll want some of her time too.