A/N: Again, going where my mojo drags me. Glad to see you all warming up to Poppa Pope. Despite everything, he loves his baby. These last two chapters have been some of my favorite to write. I like small redemption stories and exploring family relationships.
Hope you enjoy. Working on the next excerpt / chapter now.
The kitchen tile is cool beneath Olivia's feet as she digs through the oversized refrigerator. Her fingers glimpse over left overs and takeout trays before coming to rest on a bottle of ginger ale. She's surprised to find it since her father is notorious for only having two drink choices: water and red wine. He's never been a soda kind of guy; her mother loved Sprite. Bottle in hand, Olivia closes the refrigerator and moves in search of the bottle opener. It's early morning, minutes past five a.m. and she's barely rested. Besides taking her dad up on his offer to let she and Fitz have some time alone, and she hasn't slept much. The thought of talking about her relationship with Fitz and inevitably her time with Edison for all of D.C. is terrifying. She knows it's the right thing to do; controlling the narrative here will affect how their child lives, but she's still scared. Nearly five years of extensive therapy and she's still fucking scared. An 'ah' sound fills the air as she pops the top off of the bottle, taking a small sip before setting it down on the countertop. The D.C. air is still warm, but with her father's central air, she wishes she had more clothes here than pajamas she wore in high school.
"Your mom drank herbal tea with mashed ginger root when you made her sick." The kitchen light cuts on and Olivia turns to find her father in the doorway. He hasn't slept either. She can tell by the dark circles underneath his eyes. A half smile flits across her face at the mention of her mother. "I still have some. I'd be more than happy to make you a cup."
"That tea has to be at least twenty-five years old. Not sure the shelf life of tea, but two decades and some change is probably pushing it."
Eli shakes his head. "I buy a box and have a cup on her birthday. I've got some fresh ginger, too. It'll do you better than all the sugar in that soda."
Somewhat taken aback by her father's confession, Olivia nods and takes a seat at the kitchen table. There's a stack of photos in front of her; the photos Fitz had told her about. Eli doesn't talk much about Maya, so Olivia knows not to stop him when he's on a roll. "You gave Fitz mom's ring to give to me?" Olivia asks. She watches with curiosity as Eli moves about the kitchen, to the pantry, and fishes down a box of tea from a high up shelf. He sets the box on counter and then moves to fetch the tea kettle.
"I see it's on your finger. The groom to be still upstairs?"
Olivia looks down at the ring that's maybe a half size too small. She remembers staring at it for hours as a kid, watching how it glinted in the sunlight on her mother's hand. "It is and he is. It looks like he finally got a good night's sleep."
"Did you two set a date?" The click of the stove and sound of the kettle set on the burner fill the air.
"No. Not yet. Trying to think about things that are in the immediate future." Plus, Olivia had nearly ripped Fitz's pants off the moment he'd said her father was gone. "Why'd you give it to him."
Instead of answering her, Eli holds up a hand, pivoting on his heels and crossing the kitchen. He heads for the refrigerator and quickly finds what he's looking for before crossing the room once more. Along the way he grabs a mug and hand grater
"Daddy?"
"I've done a lot of thinking these last few days. About you, your mother. Me. Even more since you told me your news." He faces away from her, grating ginger into the mug. "When your mom died, Livvie, I… a part of me died too. I struggled with losing her and I left my grief blind me. I didn't see that there was a twelve-year-old girl struggling with losing her mother, too."
Tears swelled behind Olivia's eyes. She could feel the twelve-year-old girl inside of her clamoring to get out. The twelve-year-old girl who wanted to know why she lost her father when her mother died.
"Da—"
Eli holds up a hand. "Wait. I – I'm sorry, Olivia. I'm sorry that I've been a bad father. Maybe if I'd been there more and hadn't shipped you off to that school in McLean, you wouldn't have gone in search of comfort and protection with men like Davis. You would've known what to look for in a man. You wouldn't…" his words wander off into the distance.
The dam breaks and the tears spill over Olivia's eyelids, down her cheeks. She climbs to her feet and nearly throws herself into her father's arms. Eli doesn't hesitate to return the gesture. His arms wrap around Olivia and it isn't until that moment that Olivia realizes her father's never been an outwardly affectionate man. Up until the last couple of days, she could probably count on home many times her father has hugged her or even held her hand. Her mother was always the one to tuck her in, to kiss her boo-boo, or rub her stomach when it hurt. After Maya passed, Olivia learned to take care of herself. She had no choice.
They hold onto one another until the kettle begins to screech and even then, Eli only drops one arm in an attempt to blindly search for the stove knobs. Olivia cries into her father's sweater, noting that he smells like cherry blossoms.
"You went to see mom?" she asks, taking a step back. Eli wipes at her eyes as she does.
"Someone had to tell her she was going to be a grandmother," he whispers and then kisses her forehead. "Had to let her know that you got her ring, too. I was going to give it to you when you graduated law school."
Olivia gives him a knowing look. "Dad…"
"I know, it's my pipe dream. It's okay, though. I'm moving on. I like the way you got the ring. I wish Grant wasn't closer in age to me, than you, but he's genuine. I believe him when he says he'll take care of you and Elijah II." He chuckles.
She shakes her head. "And if I have a girl?" she asks. This moment feels surreal. Not only is she talking to her father about her future husband, but she's talking about the child blooming in her belly.
"Elijah is a unisex name."
"Dad…"
He holds up his hands. "Immediate future, got it. Do you want me on standby for the interview?"
And for a brief moment, she'd forgotten about it, the interview. Her face must go way because the next thing she knows, her father is ushering her back into her chair. "I'm fine. It's okay. I just…"
"The Senate is in session, which means he's in town right now. I still want to hurt him." Eli says.
Olivia doesn't look up. She knows her father means it and right now, she can't remember why she'd ever asked him not to hurt Edison. Maybe it was Maryann Davis in her hospital room, just a day after waking from an accidental suicide attempt, letting Olivia know that she knew everything. She could still hear Maryann, if you were a decent woman, you'd walk away from this hospital room now and stop fucking other people's husbands. You would stop trying to ruin a good man's career.
"I don't know how I'm going to handle it, daddy. I don't even know how my name and his got out there. Unless it was . . ." she stops, taking a deep breath in. The day she'd found out what Edison truly thought of her had been one of the worst in her life. What had been worst, however, was knowing so many of the other men – men who'd nearly come to blows over bills – had bonded over seeing her on her knees. "One of the other senators. They would've seen me on the tapes. We don't know who Father Beene knows. What if they swiped a tape of me when Edison wasn't looking? What if they're waiting to leak it as a final screw in Edison's coffin? Next year is an election year. What a way to knock him out of the running." Olivia can feel her brain start to spiral. Each scenario her mind creates is worse than the last.
Eli sets a mug of hot tea with grated ginger on top in front of her. "You don't have to do the interview, pumpkin butt."
A small, watery smile cascades across Olivia's face at a nickname she hasn't heard in ages. "Pumpkin Butt?"
He grabs the stack of photos in front of her and flips through them until he stops. He slides a photo across the table. Olivia's eyes land on the picture and she chuckles a bit. It's of her, stuck butt first, in a pumpkin. It's a class 80s photo. Little Olivia wears Rainbow Bright leggings and L.A Gear high tops.
"Why haven't you burned this," Olivia asks as she wipes at her eyes.
"Why would I? It's my second favorite photo of you."
"Second?" she asks, setting the picture down. Eli's already sorting through the stack again and before Olivia knows it, she's holding another polaroid. This time around, she's standing in the bathroom sink, shaving cream covering her face. She holds a toothbrush between her right stumpy thumb and pointer finger. She stands next to her dad who holds a razor, both stare into the mirror. "Oh god, I remember this one, I wanted to shave like my dad. I couldn't have been older than six?"
"You were two weeks from six. Mom asked me what was the point of having a girl if she only wanted her father - or to be her father - anyways?"
Olivia's bottom lip trembles and she doesn't want to ruin the warm moment, but the fear is still palpable, like a fist shoved between her ribs. "Daddy, I'm scared. I'm going to need you and I'm going to need Fitz right there. I don't know if I'll make it through to the other side of this in one piece and I have baby to think about. Please don't leave me again."
"I'm not leaving you again, baby. I'm not." Eli cried, tugging Olivia into his arms once more.
/
In an effort to make Olivia more comfortable and to ensure they have complete control; her father's backyard becomes their interview space. Her morning sickness has skyrocketed the past two day. No matter how much ginger herb tea she sucks down or crackers she eats, Olivia's stomach still refuses to settle.
She glances out her father's backdoor as the local news crew turn her father's deck into a makeshift studio. Harrison stands next to her, a Blackberry in one hand and a flip phone in the other. The house is oddly quiet to be so full of life.
"We didn't discuss your engagement ring," Harrison says on her left. "I think it'd be a good idea to leave it on unless you aren't ready to tell the world yet. Same for the morning sickness. You'll have to let me know to cut so no one gets you throwing up on Donna Graham."
Olivia's jaw drops. She doesn't remember telling Harrison that she's pregnant.
"No, you didn't tell me," Harrison says, "I can see you thinking."
"I'm going to kill Abby…" she growls through clenched teeth.
"Nope, wasn't her either. When your dad called me to have the station come here to interview you instead, the grandfather to be let it slip. Said that he had two people to worry about. I knew from jump he didn't mean the man across the yard who looks like a veins bout to pop out of his head."
Her eyes follow Harrison to find him talking to the producer on staff. Whatever is being said, she knows Fitz isn't happy with it. God how she just wants to drawl Fitz back in the house, up the steps and into bed just to hide away from the world with.
"And then Abby confirmed."
"Shit. Whelan and that mouth. I'll kill her."
"Woah, woah there Ali, we need you in fighting shape out there for that one." Harrison gestures to her flat stomach, sheathed beneath a crème, light sweater. "Come on, Livvie. We can't shut down when the ask about Edison. You know they're going to ask. I've got your back without question and without hesitation, but I still need to see some fire in you. I need to see the Olivia that stole Officer Henderson's horse because you said it was fair that a horse had to carry a pig during your Ché phase…"
She snorts, but says nothing. Instead she folds her arms across her chest. She watches as Fitz breaks from the producer and heads for the door. Olivia and Harrison step back as he steps inside.
"Didn't bite?" Harrison asks, his question pointed towards Fitz.
"No. And I quote 'it's all very Jesus saves Mary Magdalene if we discuss Senator Davis.'"
Olivia doesn't even need to know what the question is before she finds herself moving further away from the backdoor. "Mary Magdalene? Oh God, Fitz…I don't think I can do this, Fitz. I can't…"
"Livvie, Livvie…" he follows her steps, grabbing her right hand so that she can't pull away again. "Look at me." She refuses, shaking her head. Again, he repeats his demand. "Please, Olivia."
"I'll be outside, y'all," Harrison's voice hovers above them, followed seconds later by a click.
It's takes several long pauses for Olivia to let her eyes flutter open slowly, "Fitz…"
"You can do this, Olivia. You can do it. I'm out there, your dad is out there, Harrison, Quinn and Huck…"
"Fitz…"
"You can, Olivia. You can. You know you can. And when they ask about Edison Davis, you're going to tell them and whoever the hell is listening exactly who he is. You can do this."
The sound of knuckles wrapping against glass stops Olivia from replying. All she has to give him is apprehension and fear. She looks passed Fitz to see Harrison. "You two ready?" he asks.