"What did you do with the ornament?"
It's a seemingly innocent question, yet Ginny knows she appears slightly miffed. Because she is.
Because her carefully selected gift is noticeably absent from Olivia's Christmas tree.
When Ginny first met Olivia, she was stunned. She had never met a woman like her before, this fiercely protective, single, independent police captain who exuded confidence, strength, and no-nonsense badassery while raising Noah on her own. The genealogy results were a surprise, but now that the boys found one another, both families were determined to foster their relationship, which meant slowly and carefully blending two very different ways of life.
Olivia was the antithesis of everything Ginny cautiously built around her idyllic, suburban existence, one that was routine and safe and happy and normal. Nothing about Olivia seemed safe, especially when Noah stayed with them for a week after Olivia was horrifically attacked in front of him mere steps from their apartment building. Ginny and Matt willingly took him in when Olivia asked, even though they barely knew the boy and were petrified for their safety in agreeing to help. That first night, Ginny whispered angry comments in the darkness of their bedroom, wondering what judge in their right mind would think that Noah would be safest in the care of a high-profile cop, one that had endured other public traumas that made national news, had been involved in several shootings (thanks to an easy Google search), worked all hours and had a nanny pretty much around the clock. How could she be a good mother? Noah should be in a house like theirs, routine and safe and happy and normal.
However, despite all these glaring red flags, Noah was thriving and continued to thrive in the time they'd gotten to know the Bensons. Connor, on the other hand, was the one becoming defiant, mouthy, and distant. No amount of care or concern or normalcy could fix the dawn of adolescence, and Ginny was starting to realize that her meticulous perfectionism and helicopter parenting may have driven a wedge between her and her son. Meanwhile, Olivia was meant to be a mother, especially to a preteen. She wore the role like a comfortable sweater, never flinching at Noah's moods, willing to have hard conversations and talk about anything and everything. It startled Ginny to see how easily they spoke of things like gender identity and pronouns or how chatty Noah was about his middle school life. She had built a foundation of trust, respect, and unconditional love.
Olivia's presence was a blend of admirable and off-putting. As families they'd grown closer over the past year, but mother to mother? Well, that seemed to be a chasm growing wider and wider each time they spoke. They had different philosophies on everything, with Olivia coming from a place of realism and Ginny coming from perhaps a place of fairy tales. Ginny was desperate to cling to the shreds of Connor's childhood innocence and refused to deviate from her methods. Connor came from dubious genetics and a rough start in life, and Ginny insisted on making everything as perfect as possible. Olivia's life seemed chaotic at best. Noah innocently told Ginny about their favorite takeout places, the countless hours he spent at dance each week, and the times he occasionally stayed home alone if the nanny had to leave and Olivia was "on her way."
It all seemed so disjointed and unstable. And yet, Ginny found herself envious of their life, their bond. Whatever was happening worked for them and it made Ginny feel remarkably insecure about the life she and Matt built for Connor. She wasn't naive; she knew different kinds of families functioned just fine, but Woodstock was full of carbon-copied houses and nuclear families hiding behind picture-perfect veneers. Olivia's life may have looked messy, but it was real, and it forced Ginny to reevaluate all of her inherent prejudices regarding Olivia's parenting and Noah's upbringing.
And then there was Elliot.
When Olivia told her that her partner would pick Noah up from their home that night, Ginny was rightfully curious. Noah had never mentioned that Olivia had a significant other- was this a boyfriend? A work colleague/police partner? She tried her best to (nonchalantly) ask Noah, but he remained tight-lipped, and she didn't want to add more of a burden to his worrisome demeanor. However, when Elliot stepped inside her house, she noticed Noah visibly relaxed for the first time all week. Elliot greeted Noah warmly but cautiously as if his presence might break the boy somehow, as if Noah was the most precious thing he had ever seen and he wanted to protect him at all costs.
He was friendly enough to Ginny and Matt, the men making small talk about the playoffs while Noah collected his things, and Ginny got her chance to steal a proper look at him. She loved her husband, but holy moly was Olivia a lucky woman to have this specimen in whatever capacity she was able. When she quietly asked how Olivia was doing, his eyes darkened to a shade of blue she had only read about in her spicy romance novels: the protector brooding over his failure to protect, and Ginny knew then that Elliot was deeply in love with her. That whatever they were was intense and all-consuming.
Since then, Ginny tried to casually mention Elliot in every conversation, with Olivia expertly dodging her questions with overly vague replies. When the necklace appeared around her neck back in the spring, she simply said it was a gift from a friend until Noah gently teased her to a shade of red when he mentioned Elliot's name. Ginny found herself obsessed with their fate, secretly rooting for their happiness. She learned from Noah that Elliot was recently widowed, but that didn't seem to stop his eyes that night from doing that thing that even made Ginny's knees weak. The year has been long though, and whatever progress they had made seemed halted by time and circumstance. Noah mentioned he hadn't seen him in months because of work, but they texted regularly, and Ginny was disappointed for both Olivia and Noah.
But now, they are here, having Christmas Day brunch at Olivia's before taking Noah back with them for the week-long school break, and surprisingly, Elliot was the one to greet them at the door upon their arrival. It's been a fantastic morning; everyone is full of laughter and food- Elliot made delicious omelets to pair with Olivia's catered buffet- and for the first time since they've met, Ginny notices a lightness in Olivia. She's stripped away the layers of concern and worry and seems content. She's also fondled that giant compass at least a dozen times, and it appears there's a new gold bracelet on her wrist that complements the pendant perfectly. Elliot is a formidable presence, a blend of tenderness and strength, maneuvering around the Bensons' space as if he's been there all along.
It's when Ginny offers to pick up the littered wrapping paper from the living room floor that she takes a moment to examine Olivia's simple yet beautifully decorated tree. It has a few strands of white lights, adorned with ornaments made over the years by Noah with a few more delicate ones blended in. There's an Eiffel Tower, an engraved heart that spelled Godmother, a replica of a police car, a wooden badge from one of those kiosks at the mall, hand painted with several names- Kat, Amanda, Fin, and Olivia, another replica of a male ballet dancer. However, as she inspects the tree, there is one she doesn't see: the ornament she bought Olivia last year. She quickly gathers the remaining paper, stuffing it into the trash bag, before turning on her heels and coming face-to-face with Olivia. It's been a perfect morning, and she knows she's being petty, but she feels a little hurt that the first gift she ever gave Olivia is nowhere to be found.
"What did you do with the ornament?"
Olivia opened her mouth to reply, but a voice from the entryway beat her to it.
"It's on my tree."
Both women turn to face a smirking Elliot, mischief painting his features, some intimate memory passing between them as Olivia's eyebrows jump in surprise. Ginny felt her face grow hot as if she were the butt end of some colossal joke, but Olivia's soft reply breaks her concentrated anger.
"It is?"
The fact that this seems to be news to Olivia gives Ginny pause, as she watches a silent conversation play out between both parties, eyes locked and simmering.
Elliot smiles warmly before turning his attention to Ginny. "I hope you don't mind, Ginny. I took it with me one day because I broke it, and it never made its way back home."
"Yes, it did," Olivia interjects, eyes shiny and suggestive, and Ginny wonders if maybe she, Matt, and the boys should get an early start back to Woodstock based on the heat penetrating the room.
"Oh," Ginny stammers, trying to find her voice. "Of course, Elliot. It's fine. I'm sorry to hear that it broke."
"It was the damndest thing," Elliot supplies as he moves closer to Olivia, nudging her shoulder. "One of the letters just fell off in my hand."