The gravel and air were crisp with frost as Oliver trudged up to the stone steps of 987 Fifth Avenue. He looked up at the mansion and breathed a deep sigh of relief to be home at last after such a long and arduous time away. He smiled softly to himself as he gazed at the glowing windows above and thought about his wife and daughter who were upstairs, somehow keeping themselves busy until his return home - no doubt missing him terribly, and anxiously awaiting his return.
He'd come home two days earlier than they were expecting him to. He couldn't wait to surprise them.
The sound of not quite matured voices giggling made his brow crease in confusion. Then, the sound of bicycle tyres skidding on the gravel only elevated his confusion. He followed the source of the noise to the side of the house and saw something his paternal emotions were never going to be ready for.
His daughter, his little girl, being absolutely mauled by a greasy-haired, overzealous juvenile delinquent (at least that was the first impression Oliver instantly garnered of him.)
"What the hell are you doing to my daughter?!" He barked ferociously at the teen who instantly let go of Annie and backed up in fear, tripping over his own bicycle and landing painfully on it.
"Daddy!" Annie screeched in shock at seeing her Father unexpectedly and mortification at being caught by him in a moment of passion with her new beau.
Ignoring her for the moment, determined instead to deal to the fiend who just had his mitts all over her, Oliver glared at the young man. "Who are you?"
"I…I…I'm", the boy stammered in fear.
"Speak boy!"
The sound of quick, high-heeled footsteps across the driveway interrupted the fiery exchange and after a moment, Grace came into view, her eyes flicking in bewilderment between the other three. "Oliver?" She blinked in surprise.
He expected her to run to him, embrace him tightly, perhaps cry a little in relief to see him home. Instead, she turned her attention to the boy and his bike. "Gordon? Are you alright?"
"I'm alright Mrs. Warbucks", the lad suddenly found his voice.
"Oh so it's Gordon is it? And clearly you've already been introduced", Oliver snarled at his wife who frowned at him in response. "Yes, he's a friend of Annie's from school."
Oliver scoffed. "They're a little more than friends, Grace. I just caught Gordon defiling our child like the sun won't rise again."
Grace was impassive, keeping her attention on Gordon, which left Oliver dumbfounded and wondering if she'd even heard him at all. "Unless there's any damage to your bicycle, I think you ought to go home, Gordon."
"No, It's fine. Goodnight Ma'am." He glanced wearily at Oliver, then back at Annie. "I'll…see you tomorrow, Annie."
"Goodnight Gordon", Annie murmured an embarrassed reply.
"Goodnight Gordon", Oliver echoed, in a petulant tone of voice. He watched the boy until he had left the grounds of his property before turning to his wife and daughter.
Grace and Annie both frowned at him and walked inside without saying anything further. Neither one of them were very impressed with him at that moment.
Oliver strolled briskly inside after them, yelling up the stairs to his daughter whose greatest desire in that moment was to put some distance between herself and her Father. "Annie…Annie, come back so we can talk! Annie, I haven't seen you in weeks. Come on now."
"Do you really think she wants to talk to you after the humiliation you made her feel just now?"
"Humiliation? Please don't tell me you condone our child engaging in such promiscuous displays as we just caught her in. Who knows what would have happened if I'd not come home just then and seen them", he cringed and shuddered. "It doesn't bear thinking about."
He turned his head to his wife as she followed him into the sitting room. "How long exactly has this been going on?"
Grace gaped at him. "I didn't even know it was going on. Gordon's been over a few times to do homework with Annie. I had no clue there was anything other than friendship between them."
"I thought the two of you talked, I thought she confided in you."
"Well, she used to, but…well, there are certain things a young lady doesn't wish to discuss with her Mother and honestly I think she's at an age where she has a right to a bit of privacy."
"She's not yet seventeen, Grace."
"She's a very wise and very cautious seventeen. You know as well as I do she had street smarts far beyond her years even when we met her at eleven."
"That doesn't mean she's ready for that kind of relationship."
"What kind of relationship? Kissing a boy in the bushes? They're hardly going steady, Oliver", Grace scoffed.
Oliver sighed, taking a seat and resting his elbows on his knees with a pout. "Well this has certainly put a damper on me coming on early and surprising you. I had hoped the welcome might have been the tiniest bit warmer."
"Well that's because the moment you come home, instead of being happy to see me, you go straight into reprimanding me for not keeping our daughter locked up in chains!"
"I don't wish for her to be locked up in chains, I just want her to be careful, what's so wrong with that?"
"She is being careful.. We've had a lot of discussions, we've talked about the facts of life and I've warned her what to be wary of."
"But she's still a child, Grace."
"She's a young woman, Oliver."
Olver shook his head, feeling rather overwhelmed. "I…I'm not ready to let her go to someone else yet."
"Neither am I, but we can't stop her from following her heart."
He stamped his foot on the floor. "When did she suddenly become old enough to be interested in boys anyway?"
"I'm sure it's difficult to notice such changes happening when you're away for months on end", she delivered cooly.
"Now that's not fair. It isn't as if I've been larking about, Grace. I've been involved in extremely integral work."
"And while you've been gone, your little girl has been growing up without you. You can't blame her for that, nor can you blame me."
"Perhaps if it was simply a kiss I wouldn't feel so shocked - that boy looked like he was giving her a tonsillectomy!"
Grace chuckled darkly. "Well, God forbid anyone in this house should have the chance to experience any kind of intimacy."
Her tone was bitter, cold but mostly incredibly sad.
If Oliver hadn't been feeling so sore, he would have had the good sense to go to her and hug her. Instead, he dug his heels in further by saying, "I called you every day I was away, Grace. No matter where I was, I made a point of it. Do you know that there are families in Europe right now that have been completely torn apart? Forced to flee their homes and hide from those who wish to wipe them out. They have no way of communicating with each other, no access to telephones, banned from using the postal service and not willing to write even if they could, lest they be found and killed."
Grace's heart did seize tightly over what he was saying. She wasn't a woman without compassion, though this did not lessen her own feelings of loneliness.
He didn't help his case when he added, "All I'm saying is, our situation is not that bad."
Grace's jaw clenched. "But you had a choice to just come home sooner and you didn't."
"You think I really had a choice morally? You think I could turn my back on those people until I was sure there wasn't absolutely anything more I could do?"
He took a few breaths as he came face to face with her again. "You were the one who taught me to have compassion for others, Grace. I thought you would be proud of me."
Grace sighed. "I am proud of you."
She knew in her heart that her husband had been doing extremely important work overseas, but it didn't mean that in her heart, she hadn't also longed to have him home with her that whole time.
Of course Oliver had wanted to be back home with his family. He'd missed them terribly. Especially on days where he had seen and heard of the most horrific things. All he'd wanted to do was to hug his wife and daughter.
Oliver lowered his head and spoke gravely. "They're going to war, Grace. The Germans are hell-bent on invading. They're signing a treaty with the Soviets as we speak. Chamberlain has asked me personally if I'll provide artillery for the British."
Grace nodded her head in bitter understanding. "I see, so there's money to be made."
Oliver's jaw tightened. He set his eyes on hers. "You must understand that I truly want no part of this."
Grace lowered her face, looking away from him, partly in guilt, mostly in doubt.
He continued. "But at the same time, I cannot bear to see my homeland desecrated, knowing that I could've done something to help."
"I admire you for your loyalty, Oliver. I only wish you'd show a little more to your family, to those who love you. It seems as if it's easier for you to give your time and energy to those who will benefit from it from afar instead of those who are closest to you."
Oliver frowned. Her words were accusatory and hurtful to him.
"I have the opportunity to help thousands, possibly millions of people, Grace. Don't you think that matters more?"
Grace stared at him with teary eyes. She could see where he was coming from, but there was also some emotional trauma associated with the subject, for her. The years of longing and torment she had gone through, waiting for him to notice her, to see her as more than his secretary. The years and years of meetings with associates, galas with socialites, dinners with people of influence, with power - some of them, women, all the while leaving her feeling like she would never take precedence.
And here they were, married for 5 years. A daughter together, and still Grace felt as though she was playing second fiddle to everyone else involved in his life.
She sighed, dabbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "Sometimes it feels like…"
"What?"
"Like you've gone back to the way you used to be. Before we were married, before Annie came into our lives."
"Wasn't it the man I was back then that you fell in love with?" His tone was meant to be light, attempting to bring her back around to him, but it only made Grace feel more aggrieved.
"You're right, it was. But I don't need my boss right now, I need my husband."
His face fell at the tears gathered in her eyes. He watched in remorse and defeat, not knowing what to say as she breezed past him out of the room.
...
A/N: I'm trying my hand at something a little more angsty for these two. Let's see how long I can make it last!
