Open Dialogue

It had been two days since Olivia had seen or heard from Fitz. And while that hadn't been on the forefront of her mind, thoughts of him had occasionally floated into her head, reminding her of their conversations and laughter. As if she didn't have enough to deal with, his friendship did mean something to her, and she shouldn't have spoken to him like she did.

The night she shut the door in his face was a tough one. It seemed like almost all of her nights in Georgia had been tough ones. It was tempting to avoid all the drama by dropping everything, hire people to pack up the house, find a realtor deal with selling it, and just go back to her life in D.C.

But that thought was harder to entertain now that she had spoken to her father.

She had called her dad the same afternoon she'd read her mother's letter, and that call had gone to voicemail. Later, the second one lasted less than a minute as her father let her know he was about to go into a meeting and couldn't talk before ending the call. The third one got no response whatsoever.

Finally, Robert had text his daughter that he would be home in three hours and would return her call then. But he never did.

Late that night Olivia booked a ticket to D.C. for the following morning to speak to him face to face. She let herself into his house with the spare key he had given her when he had bought it and waited for him to come home.

Walking into his house now felt just as eerie as when she had initially entered her mother's house. This was the house Robert had bought a few months after he and Olivia had moved to D.C. She had lived here with him for three years and then graduated high school. After that, she had chosen to live on campus of the college of her choosing until she got her bachelor's degree.

Olivia had come home for breaks and holidays while in college, but now it felt different standing inside. The familiarity was still there, but she suddenly felt like an outsider. This house had no pictures sitting happily on shelves or hanging on the walls. It was clean from top to bottom without a thing being out of place. All of the furniture was dark colored and the heavy drapes were always closed, allowing no light to come inside. It felt impersonal, and surprisingly it made her miss her mother's house.

Without having to glance at her watch, she knew her father would be gone until around one. Today was the one day of the week he left work early. Sometimes he came home for lunch, but it was a rare occasion, and Olivia didn't worry about it.

She had gotten a morning flight so she could snoop around his house uninterrupted before he came home. The driving force of her visit was to find the cards and letters her mother talked about in her own letter to Olivia and read what she'd had to say back then. The chances of anything being found were slim to none, she knew, but looked just the same.

She started in his bedroom. The bedside table, his dresser, closet, and any other spot that appeared as if it held some kind of secret was thoroughly searched. It felt strange looking through her father's things, but she was set on looking everywhere.

The search was moved to what once was Olivia's bedroom, but again she came up with nothing. Looking around the house, she tried to think of where her dad would keep anything that had come from his ex wife. The study maybe?

She started to jog down the few stairs and toward the back of the house that led to the study. There was a plush gray sofa that looked like no one had ever sat on it, an antique dark wooden desk, and a black leather chair pushed into place, close to the desk. The wall behind the desk had two beautiful floor to ceiling bookshelves.

Olivia stood there, just inside the doorway for a minute. She had seen her father sit and work at that desk for hours on any given night, and never wondered what it was that kept him so busy. Now, though, those thoughts had her questioning everything.

She went to his desk, sat in the leather chair, and one by one tried pulling on the drawers. They were all locked. Olivia always assumed whatever he was looking over on was work related and never gave it a passing thought. Until now. Maybe the things her mom claimed she had mailed were securely hidden inside. Probably not, but it would be worth a shot.

But how to get into the desk drawers?

She looked for a key somewhere on the desk. Nothing.

Her mind took her to where she had found the letter her mom had left behind for her to find. Turning the chair around, she glanced at all of the books nestled together and wondered where to begin. Did her father have a favorite book? Had she seen him with any of these in his hand or on his desk? She didn't think so.

Those inquisitive eyes were busy scanning the binds of books row by row until a voice sternly asked, "what the hell are you doing in here?"

Spinning the chair around quickly, Olivia was met with her father's steely gaze boring holes into hers.

"What are you doing here?" she shot back, just as surprised as he was.

"My morning meeting was cancelled, and I saw you walk into the house on the camera. Now, why are you here?"

She sent him a smile and said, "Oh, I'm just looking for something."

Robert didn't move. He had never found Olivia in his study alone. Much less sitting in his seat. She was up to something. He was sure of it. "Such as?"

Now she rose to her feet. Putting her hands on top of his desk she leaned towards him and tried to sound much braver than she felt. "Such as the cards and letters my mother mailed to me after we left Georgia. Ring any bells?"

She'd caught him off guard with that question. "No."

"No? Are you sure about that?" She'd seen the immediate flash of surprise on his face before he quickly masked it.

"Very." He said firmly. "Where is this coming from, Olivia?"

"Funny you should ask. I got a letter from mom yesterday."

"Your dead mother sent you a letter?" He shot her a look.

"She left it behind for me a few months before she died."

He stepped towards her. They needed to get off this topic. "Are the funeral plans taking a toll on you? You look tired."

"If I look tired, it's because I waited up for you to return my call last night."

"Is that why you're here? Did you miss me?" He smiled broadly, opening his arms, and continued towards his daughter.

She side stepped him, going around the desk and defiantly folded her arms folded in front of her chest. "Did mom send me letters?"

Robert figured if he gave her a little of the truth, she would let it go. "Of course she did."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

"Because she was a liar, and I didn't want her around you. That's why we left. I certainly didn't want her having contact with you. She wrote you a few times after we left," he shrugged. "But when she got no reply, the letters stopped coming."

Something was off. Way off. He was acting weird. Even for him. It was written all over his face. And that was when Olivia took a chance and trusted her gut. "Bullshit!" She spat out.

"Excuse me? I know you might be upset over your mother's passing, so I will let that go, but make no mistake – you will not talk like that to me!"

She needed a minute to cool down. Nothing good would come of this if she acted like a crazy person. Her father would shut down and walk away, and right now she needed answers. After walking closer to where he stood, she said, "I'd like to see them. The letters she sent."

"Do you really think that is a good idea?" Robert asked. It wasn't a good idea. Not at all. Those first few letters were pathetic. Full of remorse and begging for them to come back. Claiming to love them both forever and promising to work things out no matter what it took. He had spent the night before avoiding Liv's calls as he drank. He knew the longer she spent in the southern state, the more likely the past would creep up.

His mind went to the bottom drawer in his desk. The one with the fake bottom. Where underneath everything inside was the bundle of letters and cards Naomi had sent to their daughter. His eyes wanted to dart at that drawer now, but he knew her eagle eyes would see what he was looking at and know the truth. Instead, he focused on her left collar bone.

It was then that Olivia realized that he still had them. Not just a few, as he claimed. He'd kept them all. Otherwise, he would have immediately told her they were gone. She tried regulating her breathing to not get riled up again. Nodding, she said, "I do. It would help me gain some closure where mom is concerned."

"Didn't the letter she left you give you enough closure?" He wondered what exactly was in the letter.

"No" she stated. "It left me with more questions. Questions that you have the answers to."

"What kind of questions?" He tried to give her a look of pity but couldn't quite muster it.

"Questions about your marriage, why we left...all sorts of things."

Robert eyed his daughter. She was serious. She'd have to be to be in his study snooping around. Maybe taking her somewhere public would keep the drama at bay. "How about the two of us talk this out over lunch? I'll make us a reservation."

"I'd rather talk things out right here. I have a flight to catch in..." She looked down at her wrist. "Four hours. So, if we could get back on track that would be great."

His head snapped back. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Georgia. I have things to do."

"Surely, you're finished with all that. You've met with the lawyers and the funeral director. What else is there to possibly do?"

"Please don't change the subject dad. I want to see the letters mom wrote, and I want to know why you kept them from me."

"Is that all?" He asked in a bored tone.

"No. I want to know the truth about what was going on before we left.'" He started to speak but she held a defiant hand up in front of him. "Save it dad. Mom didn't tell me about your wrongdoings in the marriage, but we both know you did something."

"I will not be spoken to this way in my own home! Not by you or anyone else." His daughter had never acted like this before, and she had no right to do it now. As mad as he was, his mind was scrambling to come up with a way to make it go away for good. Like Naomi had done in death. Or so he thought. Apparently, she had opened a can of worms for him to explain. Damn her!

She'd hit a nerve. Looking at her father, she could tell he was pissed off and unsettled. He was trying to keep up the facade that everything was fine, but she could tell that he was desperately trying to hold it together. Maybe that was good? Was it possible that keeping her dad on his toes with the truths she was now privy to would keep him off balance enough for him to slip up? Or would it make him bellow his anger and demand this not be brought up again? She didn't know, but Olivia was in a gambling mood, and she was going to get the truth from him no matter what it took.

Settling back down in his leather chair, leaving him no other option but taking the sofa she patiently said, "so, let's hear it."

Taking his time settling down in the middle of the sofa gave Robert a moment to think. The existence of the letters had already been told to her. There was no way she was going to let that go. Leading with that, he told her, "As I stated earlier, your mother did send a few letters after we left."

"She sent more than a few and you know it." Olivia spat out.

Her father raised his eyebrows at her in warning and continued. "She wanted us to come back, but mostly she wanted to know how you were. If you were adjusting to a new school, were you making friends; things of that nature."

"And did you ever reply to her letters?"

"Absolutely not. She had no right to know anything about you."

"She was my mother! She had every right to know about me and how I was doing!" Standing abruptly, and forcefully pushing the chair backwards with her legs in the process, she walked around the desk and strode to where he sat. "You told me that she didn't care about me. That she didn't want anything to do with me. You made me believe that I was...was..." She waved her hands around wildly, trying to come up with the right words. "An inconvenience to her! Why would you do that to me?

"Do you know how many nights I wondered why my own mother never cared to contact me? Why she never called or wrote? I was desperate for her help when I was younger and going through things a teenaged girl needs her mom for, and you lied to me! You looked me in the eye and told me she didn't care! What possible reason would you do that to me?"

"Because that woman," He said in a voice full of disdain, "was a liar and she made..."

"Is this about the fake pregnancy?" Olivia asked more calmly than she felt, taking him by surprise yet again.

His head tilted back, and his eyes doubled in size before narrowing at his daughter. "She told you about that? She had no right!"

"I'm a grown woman, dad. Unlike you, I can handle the truth. Besides, it's done. She told me about it. What she didn't tell me is why she lied about the pregnancy. Mom said something happened. Tell me that truth!"

He got to his feet just as quickly as his daughter had. In a voice laced with venom he shot back, "Your mother was emotionally exhausting. She lied to me about that baby but..."

"But what?" She shouted. There was no backing down now. Olivia wasn't a meek girl anymore, and she would press him to learn the truth until she got it. "Tell me why she lied!"

"She lied because it served her own purposes. Because she knew I was going to leave her."

His statement was a bit of a shock. "You were going to leave her? Why?"

"It's none of your business!"

"It is my business when it affects me!"

"It didn't affect you! You had everything you needed. A home to live in, clothes on your back, and enough money to buy whatever you wanted."

"I didn't have my mother!" She shouted loudly.

"She wasn't fit to be a mother. A judge agreed to that. All she did was cause problems and lie." A judge he had paid off very, very well.

"You not telling me about the letters and cards was a lie too. Doesn't that mean you're not fit to be a father, according to your own definition?"

"We're done here. Never bring up her name again. Do you hear me, Olivia? Never!" Things were getting out of hand. Naomi had royally screwed things up! Even in death, she was a pain in his ass.

Olivia scoffed. "We're not even close to being done here, dad! Tell me what exactly why we left suddenly, in the dark? And don't tell me it was because of her lying about the pregnancy. I don't buy it! You had a hand in it happening too, so tell me your side of the story!"

He got close to her face and glared at her. "I was busy providing a roof over your heads, and food on the table. I will not be spoken to like this."

"And I will not be lied to anymore! Tell me what happened dad!"

"I will not dignify that with an answer."

"Was it your job? Had things gotten too stressful in Georgia?" If she could press him a little more, he might slip up.

"No, things were not getting stressful on my job. Quite the opposite actually. I was up for a promotion." He needed to stop taking the bait she was so readily giving him.

Instead of arguing with him, Olivia pulled the envelope of the letter her mother had left for her from her back pocket. When she found the page with words mentioning her father, she began reading. "'A few months before you and your father left Georgia, I discovered something that rocked me to my core. I didn't know how to process it. This was something that could alter our lives forever and completely shatter the three of us. I was desperate to keep my family together, because I loved your father and you were, and still are, the most important thing in my life.'"

Dropping her hand that held the letter firmly in her grasp she watched her father carefully for a reaction. He silently sank down to the sofa. His face wore an expression of confusion coupled with shock.

"Is that...the letter your mother left for you?"

"It is."

"May I look at it?"

Olivia thought about it for a long moment. She didn't have a problem with him reading it. As unfair and ironic as it was - she was willing to share her mother's words with him - even though he wasn't willing to share them with her. Shrugging, she handed him the pages.

The room was silent as Robert read the words of his ex wife. It was heartfelt. He could read in her words how much she had missed her only child. It was almost painful for him to read, mostly because it was all true. He folded the pages along the already formed creases and handed them back to his daughter, who was watching him closely.

"This is a rare moment dad. Mom has said what she needed to and you are the one left speechless. It really is an excellent opportunity for you to just tell me what happened between the two of you back then."

While he continued pondering Naomi's words, Olivia added, "I knew there was something wrong with you and mom before we left. I was a kid, but I wasn't a stupid one."

"The last thing I would ever call you is stupid, Olivia. You have always been.."

"Dad! Please tell me what happened."

"I've tried to protect you for quite some time now." he began.

Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose and in a defeated tone said, "oh my god."

"Do you want to hear this or not? It's the only chance you're ever going to get to hear my side of the story. Not that...vague letter with a half explanation."

"Let's hear it." She had a feeling she wasn't truly ready to hear it, but she needed to just the same.

"You're right, your mother and I had been having problems. We talked, it led to arguing, she'd cry, I'd feel overwhelmed, and we'd avoid each other for a few days until things settled down. We'd go through this cycle all the time. Sometime around the Halloween before we left is when things started to get worse."

"Halloween?" Olivia said quietly. "I didn't think you were having problems until around February. Valentine's Day was pretty bleak that year between the two of you. I had no idea it had gone on that long."

"Unfortunately, things started to sour between us long before then. I'm thankful you hadn't noticed until much later. Your mother seemed so lost at times. She was a good mother, and in the beginning, a good wife, but we had started growing apart."

"That's what all this is about?" she asked angrily.

"Do you want to hear this or not? I won't repeat myself."

She nodded mutely.

"When we first got married everything was fine. Great even. And then we had you, and it only got better. Olivia, you were the perfect addition to our family. You were such a good baby, highly intelligent girl, and a voracious reader. There was nothing on your report cards less than an A. Of all the things you are going to hear me say, listen when I tell you that nothing was your fault."

Olivia shrugged nonchalantly.

"A little after your ninth birthday something changed in your mother. I don't know how to describe it any other way. We fought over everything; big or little."

"What sorts of things?"

"Money for starters. Even back then I had a good job with excellent pay, but Naomi was not good when it came to finances. She liked to shop, not just for herself but for all three of us. The woman had the most shoes of anyone I've ever known."

That was a small reminder for Olivia to start packing her mother's things when she got back. "So, she liked shoes. Most women do."

"She hated my job, and constantly reminded me of that fact. We were still fairly young, and with a rapidly growing daughter to care for, I found myself at work more than I was at home. Naomi didn't like that."
"I can't say that I blame her for feeling that way, dad. It's hard to be in a marriage when one of you isn't really there." She was trying to put her blind rage aside and see things through a different perspective. Maybe help him to see it too?

"My job was – is – very important to me. I wouldn't be in the position I'm in now if I hadn't stuck with it and paid my dues putting in those long hours early on. You have to see that."

"I do." Olivia admitted. "But was it more important than family?"

Shaking his head, Robert looked at his daughter and said, "you sound just like your mother did back then. I understand that it was difficult for her. To be without me so much, but I had goals and aspirations in my career, and they were important to me too. She never understood that about me."

"We fought so much that it became easier to be at work, almost more desirable, than to be at home. To face another fight with her. Do you know how agonizing it is to know a huge argument is coming every single day? For years?"

"I get it. So, you did your thing, and she did hers?"

"Yes, more or less. The thing is your mother never really had a thing. She didn't have to work, so she didn't. The reason you came with me was because she had no means to support you. She took care of you when you were younger, and then, as you got older, she had even less to do. She seemed to save her rage for me."

"I don't remember any rage from either one of you."

"That's because we kept happy faces plastered on in front of you. The moment we were behind closed doors, the arguing began. It was draining, Olivia. After six years I had had enough, and I told her I was leaving her. I couldn't do it anymore. It was getting harder to keep up the pretense that all was well between us, and I was six hours shy of working twenty four hour days. Our home life was tense, and I was learning new things at work. It was exhausting all the way around."

"That does sound miserable, dad. I understand why you left. If things between the two of you were as bad as that, that's not a healthy marriage."

"Thank you for your understanding."

"The last thing I would ever want for you, or mom is to be unhappy in a relationship. To feel...forced to be together, while trying to avoid each other at all costs to prevent the fighting."

"It wasn't all terrible though. I got the promotion at work that I worked so hard for. It might have been a few states away, but I did get it." He sent her a smile, that quickly left his face when she started speaking.

"Well, hell, let's celebrate! You got your big job promotion! It sounds to me like you knew ahead of time it was available here in D.C. and your plan of moving us away was timed incredibly purposeful."

"You need to stop being so dramatic. This was a long time coming between your mother and me. It wasn't all had a beautiful daughter together whom we loved so very much. Your mother and I tried to keep our relationship intact, if for no other reason, than for you, so you'd have both of your parents as you grew up. It just didn't work out that way, and I'm very sorry."

"I wish the two of you would have spoken to me about that. Maybe not specifically about the problems you were facing, but to let me know that I wasn't imaging weirdness between you two. That there were real concerns. That the two of you could have come to an understanding to separate or divorce in a way that allowed me to see my mother. To have contact with her. To speak to her whenever I needed or hell, wanted to."

"Olivia, you're getting wound up again." He tried.

"I'm not done. There could have been phone calls, I could have written letters, telling her of the challenges I was facing at the time."

"I know, but..."

"I said I'm not done! I have listened to you and all the things you have had to shoulder that no one will really ever understand, because let's face it, you will never tell anyone other than me because mom's gone now, and you have no real friends. You have colleagues. And that's fine. That's your journey. But I will never be able to hear my mother's voice again. She'll never tell me I love you, or I'm proud of you, or anything else because YOU STOLE THAT AWAY FROM ME!

"Nothing would have happened if I was permitted to write her letters or talk to her on the phone. What, did you think she would show up and take me away? You just said she had no job, so what was the concern? How would she be able to travel so far to get me? I'm not upset with you for moving us away. I understand it now. But you could have let me go and see her. You wouldn't have had to deal with her yourself. I could have spent a week during the summer with her at the very least!"

"And now, it's too late. I don't know if I can forgive you for that. What I do know is that I need some time away from you. I'm not going to be petty and secretive. I'll be staying the summer at mom's house. My house now. It's quiet there, and I can think. Or not. I just...can't be around you."

Without saying a word, he made his way to his desk and glanced over his shoulder at his daughter. She began to back towards the door. Pulling a key ring from the front pocket of his dress pants, he plucked a small silver key from it and slid it into the keyhole. With a flick of his wrist, the bottom drawer clicked, and he pulled it open.

Knowing his daughter's eyes were on him, he pulled the items laying on top of the false bottom and laid them on top of his desk. Without hesitation, he pulled on the small wooden slat where countless letters from Naomi were bundled tightly together. He held them out in her direction. When Olivia grabbed the letters, he held on until she met his gaze. "I'm very sorry it had to be this way, Olivia."

Still holding onto the envelopes, and in a broken voice, she said, "that's the thing. It didn't have to be."

Once he let go of them, she turned around and walked out of his house.

The sun was warm on her face, but she didn't notice because tears were freely running down her face. She didn't care how foolish she looked to anyone going by, she stood there for a long moment and just cried. For her selfish father that kept her mother at bay, and for her mother she so desperately wished was still alive.

It hurt so much to know the things she had been oblivious to as a child. Maybe she was better off not knowing the things her father had kept hidden from her. Maybe it was better not knowing that her parent fought all the time until he couldn't take it any longer and it drove him, and her, away.

Closing her eyes and tilting her head upward, Olivia balled her hands into fists and angrily screamed, "damn it!"

After a few moments wallowing in misery that couldn't be changed, she wiped her face. Her hand was shaky as she reached into her bag to retrieve her phone with one hand as the other kept the mail from her mother tightly clutched to her chest. The Uber driver promised to be there in under ten minutes.

There was no way in hell she was going back into that house to wait. She went to the curb in front of her father's house and plopped down. Dropping her phone back into her bag, she set it beside her and looked at the large stack of cards and letters from her mother. There were so many of them.

Picking a random envelope from the stack, close the bottom, she looked at the postmark on it. It had been mailed a few short months after she and her dad had left Georgia. There was no way she could wait another minute to find out what her mom had written. She ripped open the yellowing envelope and pulled out the folded stationary inside. It had birds across the top. Something inside of her felt lighter just seeing that. It made her want to cry again too, but she pushed away the desire to do so and read her mother's words.

Dear Olivia,

How are you doing baby?

Are you even getting these letters? I do hope your father comes to his senses soon and lets me talk to you or lets me come visit. I miss you both terribly.

How is school going? Are you in AP classes like you were here? Do you still want to be a teacher, or is there another dream job on your mind these days? Whatever you end up doing, you will be fabulous at it.

I miss the sound of your voice and your laugh. I miss our conversations, helping you do homework, watching tv together, listening to you, and holding you close. I miss you so, so much.

It's only been a few months since you've and I feel so alone. There's no one here to talk to, no one to share my day with. I feel like all I've done is make mistakes. With you and your father. One day I'll tell you about it.

I keep thinking maybe I'll wake up and this will all be a strange dream. But every time I open my eyes, there's nothing but silence in this house. I don't like it, but I'm trying to make the best of it.

If you are getting these letters, please call me soon. I'd love to talk to you. Take care of your father, Liv. He needs a lot of looking after, but I can't do it anymore.

I'm sending you lots of hugs and kisses. I bet you're getting taller, huh? Never too tall for all of my love, and that's what I'm sending you in this letter.

I love you so very much. Don't ever forget that or doubt it. I'll keep writing until you write back, call me, or show up at my front door.

Love,

Momma

Sitting in the backseat of her ride to the airport, Olivia chose another letter from the thick stack and read it too. It was more of the same. Her mom asking about her and how she was doing. She did her best to keep the letters upbeat and positive, never asking about Robert, never saying anything negative about him.

Why hadn't she seen the things between her parents he had mentioned to her before? Maybe it was like her father had said, she was just a kid. She'd been caught up in her own world of studies and friends. Even though she was concerned about her parent's behavior before they left, until then she had never suspected there was a serious problem.

Opening her eyes from the cozy sofa of her mom's – she needed to get used to saying it for a while now – the cozy sofa of her house, Olivia felt at ease. It had a lot to do with being in this house. This last material connection she had with her mother was where she felt most like herself, and closest to her mom. She'd enjoy it as long as she could.

That connection was made stronger as she read the seemingly endless number of letters and cards her mother had sent to her over the years. Some made her laugh, others made her cry, but never once did they make her feel anything less than loved and terribly missed.

Of course, her father had tried to call her a few dozen times since she left D.C. four days ago, but each and every call was sent to voicemail and was never listened to. Earlier this morning, she had had enough and blocked his number until she was ready to talk to him.

It had been blissfully peaceful in her house since she got back. There had been time to relax, to cry for lost things, and to think hope might be a good thing.

It was almost dinnertime. Her flat belly reminded her that she, once again, hadn't eaten much that day. With a resigned sigh, she stood up to go make something to eat when her doorbell rang.

Alert eyes darted toward the door, wondering who that could possibly be. She had decided when she got back from her confrontation with her father that she wasn't going to overthink things anymore, so she went to the door and opened it. A big smile covered her face as she looked up into familiar male eyes. "What do we have here?"

A/N - I struggled with this chapter so much! I needed to come up with a reason Robert & Naomi split up & it be reasonable enough for him to keep Olivia instead of her staying with her mother. I re-wrote this chapter numerous times with various situations, but none of them fit my criteria. I know it's not great, & you waited way too long for it, but I hope it's decent. I tried. Thanks for all the support & kindness you continue to show this story. It's appreciated more than you'll ever know.