AN: Hi everyone! Jumpscare! Another WIP? Okay I'm sorry but I just had this idea pop in my head, and like always, I can't write anything else until I get it out. So here goes nothing! Enjoy!
Prologue
December 1: Washington, DC
"Nora, honey, c'mon. It's time to go!" Olivia yells across to the living room, where the three-year-old is sitting on the floor, debating with herself for the third time this morning, which shoe goes on which foot.
She huffs, trying the pink boot on the right foot before shaking her head, sticking her tongue out, and trying the other foot one more time.
Normally, it's fine if they are running a bit late—it's not like Olivia's boss truly cares (or even knows) when she comes and goes from the office. That's certainly a perk of working your way up, busting your ass to get the respect and trust earned as Lead Public Affairs Specialist for the Department of Energy. This time of year, especially, is fairly low-maintenance. As long as their budget can pass in the end of the year spending bill, she can scrape by with little to no media buzz.
Well, that is, unless there's another catastrophic blizzard like last year, needing all hands on deck to handle the unfolding crisis and power outages. But beyond that, it is usually fine that her three-year-old is being the inquisitive, yet incredibly self-determined child that she is.
Except today.
It's not okay to be late today because not only does she have a meeting at ten o' clock, it's also December first, which means the sign-up list for the encroaching holiday festivities goes up on the front door of Happy Bugs Childcare Center. It's… A) ridiculous that she even has to worry about such things and B) the biggest competition of the year as the busy parents rush to write their names next to the "easy" items like "Cups for the Holiday Party" and "Juice Boxes."
Last year, she was fifteen minutes later than she wanted to be, and she blissfully managed to have some do-able ones left. She settled for "Treat Bags", which were time consuming to put together, but ultimately not the worst thing on the list by any stretch.
However, today, her toddler and her are almost an entire hour later than her time last year, and the pit of nerves in her stomach sink lower and lower as Nora finally manages to sort out her right from left pink sparkle boot and don her matching puffy coat for the walk to daycare.
"Baby, Mommy needs you to walk fast today, okay?" Liv pleads, situating her work bag over one shoulder, locking the front door to their brownstone with one hand, balancing her travel mug of coffee in the other.
"My boots are fast, mommy. Wook!" Nora grins, darting down the pathway to the wrought iron fence lining the edge of their yard. Before she can even lift her hands to try and wrangle the gate open, Liv is one step ahead.
"Hold it, missy! Mommy opens the gate."
"I do it, I do it," she whines, stamping her foot, her curls bobbing in her pigtails as she wiggles her head on the verge of a meltdown already.
Liv sighs. Whoever invented the term "terrible twos", obviously had not yet had a three-year-old. Two was easy. Three was hell.
She loves her daughter with everything she has in her. She loves her spunk and tenacity, her fiery attitude, her empathetic tenderness. She loves her precious curls and button nose. She loves that she got most of her own features and little from her father, Olivia's ex. Her perfect mini-me, right down to the attitude, she supposes.
She loves every little thing about Nora, but this phase of life, being a single parent, trying to parent this rambunctious and sneakily clever toddler, is more difficult than she could have ever imagined.
Narrowly avoiding a meltdown, Liv suggests they open the gate together, to which Nora seems mildly convinced, and finally, they are able to start their walk down the four blocks to the daycare center.
"Mommy, it's jingles time?"
"Jingles?" Liv questions while sorting out her bag on her arm and her heels on the brick-paved sidewalks of Capitol Hill and holding her daughter's hand at the same time. It's…chaos.
"Yeah, jingles. It goes jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all uh way," she begins singing—yelling— into the frigid morning air. It garners a few turned heads and some sympathetic smiles from parents pushing strollers.
Oh, how easy it was when she was in a stroller. And when Olivia had that extra set of hands, when she had support from a partner.
There's not an ounce of her that regrets breaking things off with Edison. Between their work schedules and his speedy ascent in the political sphere, their relationship had turned bitter and cold and resentful. She resented that he wanted her barefoot and pregnant and at home, and he resented that she liked her job and the daycare that she had found.
So, they split before Nora had even turned one. Thank god she had found the custody lawyer that she did, who fought for her to have primary custody of Nora, leaving Edison with visits every other weekend and alternating holidays. It was surprising when he was initially upset at the arrangement, but it only took two months for him to realize how much he enjoyed having little to no parental responsibilities while still getting to claim he had a daughter "for the optics".
Thankfully, Olivia didn't have to deal with him very often as a result, and Nora tolerated the sparse visits like a champ. For as strong-willed as she is, she has adapted well to the changes, all things considered.
Now, it was up to Olivia to make the decisions for her family, for her daughter, and daycare was the only choice she saw fitting their lifestyle with her working full-time and doing so solo. Not to say it was easy by any stretch of the imagination, but Happy Bugs felt like home now.
The pastel rainbow and caterpillar mural painted on the brick wall outside. The playground and slides and buggies to cart the children around in. The little cubbies and the little cots for naptime. The art studio, the classrooms, the teachers.
Of course, she had done extensive research before Nora was even born, sifting through numerous childcare options. Eventually, she landed on Happy Bugs for its proximity, its curriculum, and for its high bar of clientele—the children of diplomats and Congresspeople and the like. It was even rumored that the grandchildren of a former President attended here, and Secret Service agents would man the doors during pick-up. She's not sure of the legitimacy of those rumors, but nonetheless, she knew it would be the right place for her child.
Everything about it is perfect, and she can't imagine any other place taking care of her baby. She loves this place. Well, she loves everything about this place, except the holiday sign-up list.
The pair round the corner to the final block they have to walk, and Olivia lets Nora skip a few paces in front of her as they see the mural come into view.
Liv huffs, immediately wishing she had picked different footwear today as she lengthens her strides to keep up with her daughter. Nora loves to open the front door to her "school" but knows better than to open it before Olivia catches up with her, so she waits dutifully, bouncing on her toes, singing "Jingle Bells", and pressing her face up against the glass on the door.
"I open, mommy," Nora declares, reaching up for the handle as soon as Liv gets an arms-length from her.
"Okay, baby. I can help," she reasons, already grabbing the handle from the top to help pull.
As soon as her eye catches her mommy's hand, Nora shrieks. "No! I do it myself!"
"Nora Rose, we do this every morning. Mommy needs to help open the door, so you don't pinch your fingers and get hurt."
"NO! I not hurt. I do it myself!"
"Stop," Liv hisses under her breath, already entirely over the meltdown, trying her best to regulate her own emotions as to not explode on her child. Her child who is now thrashing her body between Olivia's legs and the door, yanking the handle as hard as her little body can manage.
Liv's hands are full, so scooping Nora up isn't an option today, so she has to settle for another approach, bending down to get on her level and whispering to her, helping her take a few deep breaths before they try again. Hopefully, no parents are trying to get in the door behind her, though her back is turned, and she can't see to be sure.
As soon as she's toddler height and trying all of her best tricks, she knows she's too late. Nora thrashes her body once more, knocking Olivia's coffee right from her hand, sending it pouring down the leg of her navy pantsuit and the edge of her tan peacoat.
"Fuck," Olivia swears under her breath.
At the sound, Nora gasps, turning around and looking with wide eyes. "Mommy, dat's a bad word."
Liv closes her eyes and breathes once, evenly and calmly, before setting the now virtually empty cup on top of the trash can outside—she'll get that later—and proceeding to pick Nora up and set her on her hip. "C'mon, let's get inside."
And just as she reaches toward the handle, it sets Nora off again. "I do it, pwease!"
She kicks and wiggles, trying to free herself from her mommy's arms, and just when Olivia thinks she can angle her body just right to open the door, she hears a deep, unflustered voice behind her, so smooth, so low that it almost makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"Let me get that for you," the stranger offers. She hasn't even seen his face yet but watches as his hand gently knocks hers out of the way and pulls the door open for the two of them.
Spinning around to face him, to thank him, she's greeted with the warmest blue eyes she's ever seen. Thick, sandy brown curls. Strong jawline. Sweet smile lines. A handsomely tailored suit and a wool coat to match. He's also holding a toddler—a precious little boy with fair skin and bright green eyes and similarly thick brown hair. They are both sporting gregarious smiles: friendly, easy-going, and kind.
She's never seen him before because she knows she would have remembered this man if she had. This handsome man.
"After you," he urges, and instantly she realizes that the door has been open for about fifteen seconds, and all she's done is stare at him.
Get your shit together, Olivia.
"Oh, thank you," she mutters, futilely brushing the remnants of coffee from her coat as she enters the building. When they turn around, however, Nora protests, whipping her head backward to look at the little boy behind them, bursting out in a wide grin and squealing when she recognizes who it is.
"Owwie!" She shouts, twisting her body to be let down again.
"It's Nora, Daddy," the little boy comments, pointing and starting a similar wiggling motion to be put down.
"I see that it is, buddy. Go ahead," he murmurs in that low, intoxicating voice. "You must be Nora's mom. I'm Fitz."
"Olivia," she replies, extending her free hand to him to shake. "I'm usually an early drop off."
She's not sure why she feels the need to make an excuse for never having seen him before, but he clearly knows of her child, so it feels a little bizarre that she knows nothing about his. Well, his child or him, for that matter.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Olivia."
God, the way her name sounds in his mouth should be illegal. Okay, she cannot be getting wet at daycare drop-off. That's like… the number one rule.
"Likewise. Sorry you had to see all of that…" Liv gestures, trying to sum up the horrendous display outside.
"...that 'Terrible Threes' behavior, am I right?" He laughs, shaking his head as if to soothe her worries, to comfort her that she's not alone in the suffering of random meltdowns.
"Exactly. My little one sure seems to like yours. She's usually so grumpy in the mornings, I hardly ever see her light up like that around her friends," Liv comments, watching as the pair of toddlers skip around the foyer, checking out the newly hung holiday decorations while their parents sign them in.
"Oh, Ollie practically worships the ground she walks on," Fitz chuckles. "We only started here a few months ago, and I've never seen him make friends quickly like that. He's loved being in Kathy's class so far."
Sure, the child looks vaguely familiar from the background of pictures that Nora's teachers send throughout the day, but it's odd, feeling like there's a part of her three-year-old's life that she doesn't know.
"Mommy, wook! Issa 'nowman!" Nora cheers, grabbing Ollie's hand and jumping up and down, wobbling side to side like the snowman in the giant poster appears to be doing.
Liv can't help but giggle. "It is a snowman. He looks awfully silly."
"Nora, watch me!" Ollie encourages, adding his own little dance to the mix.
Wanting to catch Fitz's reaction, she looks back over to him, but her stomach sinks when she notices him staring over her right shoulder where a festively decorated piece of paper is taped to the wall with a pen affixed to the side.
"What is that?" He asks, leaning in closer to look.
Fucking hell, he smells good.
And fucking hell, she'd almost forgotten about the list. And fucking, fucking hell. There are only two blank spaces left at the bottom of the page.
"No, no, no, no…" she groans, stepping a final time to read the remaining items.
There are two, yet they both say the same thing: "Holiday Program Coordinator."
"Fu—ooh no. I can't believe…"
"What?" Fitz asks again, obviously confused by her deeply negative reaction.
"It's the sign-up list for the holiday season. It happens every year…" She leans in closely so the front desk worker can't hear. "As if we don't already pay an ungodly amount for our children to go here, they expect all the parents to volunteer for the parties and the annual program."
"But there are only two things left? When did this go up?"
"Oh, welcome to the school. It goes up on the first day of December, and parents rush to put their names down, so they don't end up…" She glances back at the list before shrugging at him. "...like us."
"What on earth is a 'program coordinator' anyway? What would children under the age of five possibly need coordinated?" He asks, scooping Ollie up in his arms and holding the second door to the classroom hallway open for Olivia, who likewise pulls Nora up onto her hip again.
"Ha!" Liv cackles. "Boy, you have no idea the misfortune that you walked into this morning."
They round the corner once more until the door with "Fireflies" written on it appears, and she tries to hide the giddy feeling in her chest when she notices him chuckling along with her.
"Alright, kiddo. Be good today, okay?" Liv implores as she tries wrangling Nora's coat off while simultaneously opening the door to the classroom. When the tiniest crack in the door appears, Nora moves to push it open, warranting a snap of Liv's fingers to halt her. Her tiny feet screech to a halt—for the first time that morning. "Listening ears to your teachers today, yes?"
Nora nods her head and accepts the kiss to her mommy's lips as Liv bends down and bids her farewell for the day, watching as she immediately glides into play mode.
"Good morning, Miss Nora! And Mister Oliver! Did you two walk together this morning?" Their teacher, Miss Kathy, greets, eyeing their respective parents who are standing suspiciously close together.
At the blatant insinuation, Olivia gasps, noticing her proximity to this man, stepping to the side before attempting an excuse. "No, no! We just met outside. Mommy was running late this morning… Lucky me!"
When she looks back up at Fitz, his expression is dark, unreadable, almost inquisitive, but Kathy just laughs. "Oh dear… What a day for that! Let me guess… I'm looking at this year's Holiday Pageant Coordinators!"
Liv rolls her eyes, and Fitz laughs a little, still a bit bewildered by the whole ordeal.
"Oh, how fun! What a great match. You two are both such attentive parents, I can't imagine two better people," Kathy gushes, moving gracefully around packs of children playing wildly around the room. "Be sure to stop and see Ashley at the front desk before you go. She has the binder."
Binder?
The question seems to echo in Fitz's mind as well, his brows furrowing as he looks confusedly at her once again. Like a "what am I getting myself into?" look.
Of course, Olivia's seen this program twice now, but she's been very strategic to avoid as much of the planning as possible until now, so even though she knows a little bit, she hardly knows anything at all.
"This will be fun," Kathy laughs, clocking their expressions. "The binder has all of the details from the previous years. Costume vendors, contacts for "S-A-N-T-A", the reception party budget, the whole thing. Ooh, don't you worry! It's not much once you look at it. We practice the songs and plays in class. All you have to coordinate is…well, everything else!" She giggles again, wiping some glitter off her finger and onto her green smock dress, embroidered with little wrapped presents of different sizes and colors.
Ugh. Olivia already feels on festive overload and the month just started.
"Perfect!" She tries, though the response feels as forced as the smile on her face. "I've got to be off now. I may grab the binder at pick-up if that's okay?"
"Of course, sweetheart," the teacher grins.
"I have to get going too. I'll follow you out, Olivia," Fitz says as he quickly hangs his son's jacket in his cubby and crosses back to the door.
"Have a good day. Nora, Ollie. Say 'bye-bye' to Mommy and Daddy!"
And as weird as this morning has been and as stressed as she feels at the thought of everything that's coming, her heart sort of leaps and skips and stutters hearing that. It's been so long since "mommy" has been followed by an "and daddy", and it's ridiculous because she just met the man, but her brain is doing funny things like picturing herself calling him that and…
God, she really needs to go.
She waves 'bye' to her daughter and makes her way back to the front and out the door, grabbing her discarded drink that is about as cold as an iced coffee at this point. Her ears perk up as the door shuts behind her, and she hears his voice again.
"Hey," he calls softly, getting her attention, as though he had ever lost it. "I have no idea what just happened, but it was really nice to meet you. Um… finally, I mean. Uh–here's my number… for the program thing… I imagine we will have to correspond some way…"
Liv smiles, taking the business card he hands her. Who the fuck has business cards these days?
Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III
Foreign Affairs Officer, Department of State
Bureau of International Security and Nonproliferation,
Office of Cooperative Threat Reduction (ISN/CTR)
(000)000-0000
Oh, the fucking guys at the State Department, duh. Get it together, Liv.
"I'll…yeah…I'll call you," she manages through a stupid smile.
And by some miracle of God, he returns it, grinning at her widely. "I'm looking forward to it."
Well, this should be an interesting month…
AN: Thank you as always for reading! My first dive into complete AU but I just couldn't take them out of the DC grind. My plan is for this story to run about 6-7 chapters and I'm hoping to get updates out soon! Let me know what you think about this new story! :)