OHANA
follows "Renewal"

Chapter 2

              ***April 25, 2024*** [continued]

Benson sank beside Alex. "I remember Bruno. You introduced us last year, at Olivia's homecoming party. I'm so sorry–"

"It's been a year this month since her parents died, and now this," and for a few moments, she took refuge in Benson's embrace.

"Look," Bettany concluded, "I think we have everything contained. I grabbed your phone cord, the Kindle and its charger, and your slippers, too. If you'll leave us the card key, we'll go over the room again before check-out time to make sure we didn't miss something."

Benson assured her, "If you did, I'll hold it for you or ship it FedEx if you need it right away."

Alex produced her card key with a watery smile. "Thanks."

Bettany cleared her throat, signaling Benson, who reached into her laptop case, withdrawing a white package ten inches square. "This is for you. We were supposed to present it to you this afternoon at closing remarks. It's a plaque from the brass for Ice Blue, an award for best representation of law enforcement ideals. One of the last things Tom McGrath authorized before he resigned. So it seems he had a little sense after all."

Alex took the precious parcel gratefully, tucking it into her toiletries case. "If you talk to him, tell him I appreciate it."

"I will—in the meantime, don't worry about anything." Benson stood up. "I'll head downstairs and flag down a taxi. Don't forget your coat!"

She hurried to the elevator, shifting feet impatiently until the car arrived, but soon emerged at the lobby. As she moved quickly toward the hotel's front doors, she bumped into a tall, slender man with thick, slicked-back light hair and blue eyes approaching from the opposite direction, his open trenchcoat swaying in time to his stride.

"Excuse me, sir," Benson apologized immediately, then smiled in relief as she recognized the man's grin. "Carisi! It's you."

"Cap, didn't we send you here to get a little downtime? Even at a convention, you're always in a hurry," ADA Dominick Carisi scolded, shaking his head. "Can't you ever slow down?"

"I could say the same thing about you—you're up early. I'd ask you if you had court this morning, but you obviously wouldn't be here if you did."

"I don't have to be in court until three today, but I'm still here on business. Since it's Fin's day off, we're meeting at the Egg House so we can review his testimony for the Morrison case next Monday. But I got you in the middle of something—what's up? Anything I can help with?"

Benson said, "I need to find a cab to take Alex Eames to Penn Station. She has an emergency at home."

Carisi looked disturbed. "Eames? Is Goren okay? Don't tell me little Olivia's sick!"

She shook her head and explained about Bruno Volpe's death and Olivia's reaction, and he let out a deep breath, then glanced at his watch. "That poor kid. Say, look, Liv—my car's just a block over, at the lot. Let me take Eames home. She'll get back that much quicker. Next train's probably not for an hour and then she'll have to get a ride from New Haven."

Benson looked relieved yet protested, "It's a long trip to Milbury and back. What about your meeting with Fin?"

Carisi's grin was good-natured. "Fin'll go with me once I explain. We'll kill two birds with one stone and talk over the Morrison testimony on the way back—pick up breakfast somewhere on the way."

Benson returned the smile fondly. "You're such a Boy Scout, Carisi."

"Call it what you will. Besides, if it were Jesse or Billie in this situation, I know someone like you or Fin would step up to get Amanda home to them. Tell Alex to hang in there...I'll be back in ten."

He waved a hand as he turned away. Benson returned to the elevators, only to find Bettany and Alex emerging from the one furthest to the left, Alex now bundled in her jacket and walking her suitcase beside her. "Were you able to shag down a cab? It's not that long a walk to Penn Station if you couldn't."

"You're going back in style. Carisi has offered to drive you home."

Alex protested, "That's a ninety-minute drive one way–"

"I reminded him of that, but he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. He's already gone to get his car," Benson warned, then repeated what Carisi had said about his adopted daughters, to which Alex sighed. "It's nice of him, but–"

"Yo, Liv!" called a familiar voice. Looking relaxed and comfortable in a black leather jacket over an open-necked blue shirt, jeans, and Nikes, Odafin Tutuola emerged from the crowd of mostly women in the lobby. "I was supposed to meet Carisi across the street for breakfast, but he just sent me a text to meet him here instead. Got any idea what's up? Hey, nice to see you again, Captain Bettany! Hey–" He caught sight of Alex's suitcase along with the expression on her face. "Everything okay, Eames? I thought you were here for the duration."

Alex briefly explained what had happened at home, which Benson followed up with Carisi's offer. Fin shook his head. "So he's put me on the spot, huh?" Then he smiled at Alex. "Always happy to do a favor for a friend. Don't let Carisi know, though—I'll have to rag him about it or he'll think I've gone soft."

Alex gave him a grateful smile. "You're all a bunch of Scouts, the four of you."

"Shhhh!" Fin warned with a feigned scowl. "You're gonna bust my street creds."

"Alex, let us know when the funeral is," Benson told her soberly, curving a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Noah will want to be there to give Olivia moral support."

"Why don't we go outside to wait?" Bettany suggested.

As they stood in loose formation in front of the New Amsterdam, Benson and Bettany hunched in their blazers as a brisk breeze off the Hudson made a wind tunnel of the street, Alex closed her eyes for a few seconds, allowing the ambiance of the city streets to wash over her: sirens, car horns, air horns, the roar of motorcycles, stray sound fragments from cell phone videos, acceleration of traffic followed by the squeal of brakes; the scent of car exhaust, subway funk, hot pretzels. The old familiarity comforted her. Before they knew it, Carisi had pulled up to the curb in his Equinox. He leaned toward the passenger-side door. "Hop in, Alex, your magic carpet's here."

She made one final, half-hearted protest about the length of the drive, overridden by both Carisi and Fin, and, in her concern over Bobby and Olivia, she capitulated. Fin loaded her luggage on one side of the rear seat, then occupied the remaining space so Alex could seatbelt herself in the front.

"Don't get a speeding ticket, Carisi," Benson said with a small smile, "or Judge Buckley will give you a one-two this afternoon–"

Alex exclaimed, "Wait, you have to be in court–"

"Floor it, Counselor," Bettany advised, and Carisi gave them a thumbs up before hitting the gas.

Once on the road, the two men allowed Alex to set the conversational pace, for which she was grateful. She explained about Bruno Volpe's relationship with Bobby and how Olivia had become fond of him; then, because the subject made her melancholy, she shifted gears to inquire about their upcoming court case, which took her mind off the lengthy ride and what to say when she arrived home. With such sympathetic travel companions, she was surprised at how quickly they pulled into the driveway on Courant Street.

As Alex unbuckled her seat belt, she apologized, "I'd invite you in for coffee, but I know you have to get back."

"And this dude still has to feed me," reminded Fin dryly as he hopped out to remove her luggage from the car. "My gut sounds like a volcano ready to blow."

"Another time, Alex," Carisi said. "Call if you need to talk. You're Liv's friend and that makes us all ohana. You know, like in the cartoon."

"You into cartoons now, Carisi?" Fin jibed, slipping into the front seat.

"C'mon, I got two small kids at home," Carisi chuckled. "Like I haven't seen every Disney flick a million times."

"Lilo and Stitch," Alex said fondly. "We've seen that one a few times ourselves. 'Ohana means family-'"

"'-and family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten,'" Carisi finished, shifting the car into reverse. "One of Jesse's favorites. You take care, Alex. Give our best to Bobby and Olivia."

"Drive carefully," she bade.

Alex remained in the driveway for a few minutes after they made the turn on Main Street, gazing thoughtfully across the yard to Bruno's white Colonial-style house. It looked abandoned, with no trace of earlier drama. Then she trundled her luggage into the yard and onto the porch as quietly as possible, in case Olivia was asleep after that morning's shock. Sam hadn't even barked. Something in her hesitated to disturb the almost unnatural silence.

She settled for securing the porch door so that if Bandit was out of his cage and the back door opened, he could go no further. Leaving her luggage next to the door, she slipped inside quietly to find breakfast dishes still in the sink, the kitchen silent except for the ticking of the old electric wall clock—but from the living room, she could hear a low male voice speaking and music playing softly. She cocked her head at the latter and then smiled—how like Bobby to pick smooth jazz!—an instrumental version of "On Broadway" was ending.

Alex slipped out of her shoes, tossed her jacket over a kitchen chair, then padded through the kitchen and hall to peek around the arch of the living room doorway, only to bite her lip. Bobby, a book in one hand, was seated on the left side of the sofa with Olivia stretched out beside him in a pink long-sleeved pullover, jeans, and pink socks, her head resting on his lap. His free hand slowly brushed her curls as he read aloud to her:

"'...was significant about the initial appearance of this first island along the slanting crack was the fact that it held on and grew. Stubbornly, inch by inch, it grew. In fact, it was the uncertainty and agony of its growth that were significant, and only by relentless effort did it establish its right to exist. For...'"

"What are you reading?" she whispered in his ear from behind, and a brief smile flickered on his weary face as he looked up. Bandit, nestled on Bobby's right shoulder with his head under his wing, popped his head up; Sam, stretched on the floor along the length of the sofa guarding his young charge, thumped his tail enthusiastically.

"Michener," he murmured, and when she tilted her head, he shrugged. "It was rhythmic and put her to sleep."

Bandit emitted an excited "Cheep!" and flew to her shoulder. Alex removed him, kissing his beak. Then Olivia murmured, rolled on her back, and opened her eyes.

"Oh, Mama..." was all she said. In one fluid movement, Alex sat Bandit back on Bobby's shoulder, stepped over the big collie, and scooped the child into her arms; Olivia wept silently into Alex's left shoulder as Bobby set the book down and rubbed between her shoulder blades. Sam shifted his position so Alex could sit on the sofa beside Bobby, comforting Olivia even as she changed position.

"Remember, sweetie," she murmured, "for the past year, you made Bruno very happy. He's relived his memory of when his sons were little boys and he loved watching you and Ana and Carlos play."

"I know," Olivia said wearily.

"Sweet girl," Alex said, stroking her forehead. "How about lying down in bed for a while? I'll close the blinds and you can snuggle with Captain."

"I...s'pose." The girl yawned and permitted Alex to lead her first into the bathroom, where her mother bathed her swollen eyes with a cool washcloth, then to her bedroom, where she changed into a flannel robe and fuzzy socks while Alex lowered and shut the blinds. Then she huddled on the comforter, cuddling her smiling stuffed fox. Alex laid a lightweight fleece throw over her, then sat at the side of her bed for ten minutes stroking her hair before leaving her to sleep.

She found Bobby still in his place on the sofa, the Michener book set aside on the end table, eyes distant as he stroked Sam's head; the empathic collie was sitting directly in front of him, his tapered, stocky head in Bobby's lap. Bandit had returned to snuggling near his neck, gently chewing on a strand of hair.

Alex coaxed the latter on her finger. "Second string's here, little bug. Take a time out." She put the bird back into his cage and fastened the door. Sam waved his tail at her, then abandoned his post to return to his bed at the foot of the stairs, leaving Alex to settle down next to her husband, leaning her head against his right arm as she laid her right hand on his chest. His left hand crept up to lace fingers with hers.

"I made kedgeree," he finally said, voice hoarse.

"What?" she asked.

"British b-breakfast dish. Flaked haddock, rice, and egg. Thought Bruno might get a kick out of it and grabbed the ingredients on the way home...from Big Brothers yesterday. Min's eaten it at b-boarding school. She said, 'Papa, let's eat with Bruno this morning,' so I put it in the big mixing bowl...um...while she brought all the other supplies.

"I was happy to see the porch empty, s-said to her, 'He's finally sleeping in—about time, right?' She knocked at the door, peeked into the window, and said, 'Papa! Something's wrong!' When I took her place, I saw what looked like fabric next to one of the chairs. T-Then she climbed on that old crate under the kitchen window and screamed, 'Papa, Papa, he's on the floor!'"

In the Army, when he'd first joined CID, Bobby had difficulty understanding why witness testimony was so garbled. At crime scenes, everything stood out to him in sharp relief: colors, shapes, and details, all in easy-to-read patterns. It perplexed him when people who swore "I saw the whole thing!" said a blond man was dark-haired, a man in an alleged pink shirt had been in green, and four shots had been fired when forensics found evidence of six. He could spot a picture frame a few centimeters out of kilter, a piece of furniture displaced from the faint crease in the carpet.

Eventually, he accepted how others' memories worked but kept his personal insight. So why, as he related to Alex the earlier events, could he not recall all the details? Had the kitchen light been on—or off? It had to have been on, didn't it? So he and Olivia could see what they were doing? Had Bruno been getting a glass of water when he fell? If so, where was the discarded glass? Had something tripped him? Was there vomit? No, all his attention had been hyper-focused on Bruno, Olivia, and himself, in that order.

He had dropped to his knees so that he was beside Volpe, who lay on his back, tilted on his left side, right hand laying limp over his belly, left arm tucked under him. A dark spot stained the crotch of his sweatpants, accompanied by a strong scent of dried urine. Bruno's eyelids fluttered open.

Bobby smiled at him so the injured man—and Olivia—would remain calm. "Strange place to take a kip, Corpsman Volpe."

Bruno attempted a grin and rasped, "In Korea, I could sleep...anywhere. Sorry, Bobby, I took a fall last night. I haven't been able to get up." His right knee bobbed. "Legs gave out. Funny–"

"Are you hurt?" Olivia asked. She knelt at his right side, face white and tense. "Here," she said steadily, taking his right hand. "We had first aid classes at school last year. Nurse Keating...said you must...must always stay calm. Let me take your pulse."

Bobby was torn with indecision. He wanted Olivia out of the kitchen, yet couldn't abandon Volpe, so he forced himself to say, "Thank you, Min," and reached for his cell phone. 911 picked up immediately.

When he spoke next, it was in the crisp voice of a professional. "I need a rescue squad and an ambulance immediately at 2 Courant Street in Milbury. We have a 92-year-old white male down on his kitchen floor; he had a fall and has been here all night. He's awake and alert, but unable to rise. He complains of weakness in the legs. Please hurry." A pause. "Yes, ma'am. I'm his neighbor."

"His pulse is 50, Papa," Olivia said softly. He could see her shivering slightly, and her eyes resembled an owl's in her pinched face.

"Smart girl," Bruno murmured. Now that she had released his wrist, his gnarled, bony fingers closed upon her little hand. "Thank you, Olivia."

"His pulse is 50," Bobby repeated to the 911 operator. "He appears to be speaking normally. He's pale, but not febrile or diaphoretic, and doesn't appear to be hypothermic." Before the operator could ask, he touched Bruno's shoulder. "Hey, man, are you in pain anywhere? Legs or back? Chest? Arm?"

"Stiff from...lying here. No pain," Bruno said heavily, his eyes blinking.

"Stay with me, B-Bruno. Please," and Bobby relayed Bruno's words to the operator, following with more information as he examined various parts of Volpe's body—nothing appeared broken, there was no visible blood.

"There's a pillow on the sofa, Mr. Volpe," Olivia ventured. "I can put it under your head," and she pointed to that piece of furniture, a futon with a sagging mattress and a threadbare quilt covering it, against the far wall.

Bruno only held her hand tighter. "No, no. Stay with me, little one. I'm sorry I'm missing...your breakfast."

"It's fine." Olivia swallowed. "We can put clingfilm over it and tuck it in the fridge—maybe in the freezer would be better. The EMTs will come and the doctor will check you out, and we'll have breakfast another morning after Mama comes home. All four of us. Mama will tell you all about the conference."

"I'd like that." Bruno sighed just as Bobby laid the cell phone on the floor and gave him a confident nod. "They'll be here in a few minutes. Here–" He cupped his hand under the elderly man's head for support, elevating it slightly. "Can Min get you some water?"

"Not thirsty," Bruno murmured, then smiled back at him. "I knew you'd come, B-Bobby."

"If just to show off my culinary expertise," teased Bobby, forcing his words to keep his voice from failing.

"Yeah." Volpe suddenly winced, arching his back. Olivia gave a tiny gasp. "Bobby–"

Bobby said softly, "Yes, Bruno, I'm here."

Bruno smiled at him. "Hope you enjoy...what I left for you."

"What–"

"Papa!" Olivia straightened up. "I hear sirens."

Through the phone speaker, the 911 operator said, "Sir, they're a quarter mile from your location."

"Thank you." Bobby was staring at Bruno. He was still smiling, but his eyes were closed; his chest rose and fell regularly. He touched the man's shoulder, a caress with the palm of his hand. "Olivia, go out front and meet them. Please. Bring them back here."

She shook her head. "I can't, Papa," she whispered, and now he could see Bruno still had her hand fast in his.

Again, uncertainty: which was the worst trauma, to leave her alone with a man he knew by instinct was dying and meet the paramedics himself? Or to tear her hand roughly from the grasp of a man she had come to love like a grandfather?

"Will you keep Bruno company, Min?" he asked calmly, leaning forward to kiss her. "I'll be back as soon as possible. I promise. I promise." Olivia nodded wordlessly.

And he'd stumbled to his feet and out the door.

"...it seemed to take f-forever for the rescue squad to arrive. I waved them i-inside...Olivia was crying.

"They pushed me aside; one paramedic removed Olivia's hand from Bruno's, then l-lifted her out of the way so they could work on him. She stood there, didn't move, let me pick her up like a doll and move her away. The male paramedic said, 'No pulse, no respiration,' and the woman started CPR...the man bagged him—I th-think as a courtesy, but after ten m-minutes, he looked at me and shook his head. Olivia understood and started to cry...I had to take her outside.

"Once she settled a bit, they asked me the...um...usual questions about what happened. I don't remember much. Th-They said they were calling the police, and I asked for Kate Shadley...she showed up...um...with another officer. That's when I called you. The bus came...the other officer, just a kid, Linhares, walked us back to the house while they took Bruno…the b-body away; he carried the kedgeree for me and made sm-small talk about ethnic breakfasts—Portuguese family...had galão and pampilho this morning. Olivia wouldn't stop crying, so I picked up a book and s-settled down on the sofa to read to her."

Spent, he laid his head back, eyelashes beaded with tears, and Alex held him as tightly as she could. She hadn't seen him so strung out since his mother died and once again realized how deeply he'd allowed Bruno into his heart.

"You should rest, too," she murmured, rising, and he nodded numbly. By the time he'd followed her into the bedroom, she had the bed made; like Olivia, they curled up together on top of the comforter, covered by a king-sized blanket. Alex kissed his forehead, eyelids, and cheeks as she'd wished she could have done Tuesday night. His face was still troubled.

"I apologized to her," he said raggedly, "to Min...for leaving her alone. I forget s-sometimes, because of her attitude, her vocabulary—she's just a child. It was too much...to put on her." Alex wondered if he was thinking back to his childhood: "For a little boy, you had a lot on your plate," she'd told him once. "She gave me that look...y-you know…said...'At least this time...I could say goodbye.'"

Alex bit her lip, then responded quietly, "You did your best in an emergency, Bobby. Neither option was best, but maybe it was the best call. She was with Bruno, taking care of him, feeling like she was contributing to helping him, not outside by herself, with her imagination to feed her fears."

He sighed deeply, then closed his eyes. Alex watched him until he fell asleep, and when he murmured brokenly, she stroked his face and whispered that she loved him.

Before she drifted off herself, Alex recalled Bettany's prediction about a busy Thursday. It had indeed come true, if not in the manner the Brooklyn woman had envisioned.

"What's this?" Bobby asked later as he helped her unpack, uncovering the parcel Olivia Benson had given to Alex.

The pair had remained in bed past noon, and then Bobby had stumbled from bed to let Sam loose in the yard. Sam kept circling back between urination intervals, shoving his silky head under Bobby's hand and leaning against him as he did with the patients at the Veteran's Hospital.

Olivia slept on, oblivious in her grief to the activity outside her door. Bobby had opened the fridge, seen the big bowl of kedgeree, and froze in his tracks. Alex hastily removed it from the shelf and upended it into a large square storage container from the dish drainer, covering it and storing it at the back of the refrigerator. They could eat it early next week—now it needed to be less conspicuous. Then she brewed Bobby a cup of peppermint tea, which he sipped in silence.

About mid-afternoon, he gingerly sat at Olivia's bedside and watched her for some minutes. Awakening by degrees, she finally regarded him wanly. "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

"No, Min," he said in a low voice, brushing her cheek with the back of his finger.

Olivia looked as if she might tear up again, then swallowed. "It's all right, Papa."

"I called Dr. Allyson," he told her gently. "You don't have to talk to her, but if you want to, she's available until six." He set a note on her night table. "There's the log-on code."

"Merci," and Olivia sat up.

"Come have some soup with us?" he coaxed, and she managed a smile when she saw chicken broth with tiny star-shaped pasta. Alex had made a quick run to the ShopRite for a baguette, and they ate soup with bread and butter as the late afternoon sun vacated the kitchen.

After the news ended, Olivia asked wistfully, "May we watch a movie?"

"How about Lilo and Stitch?" Alex suggested, and only when the movie ended did she explain why she had made that choice.

"When you talk to Captain Benson again," Olivia told her at bedtime, "will you ask her to say thank you to Maître Carisi and Sgt. Tutuola for me?"

"You bet," Alex had said with a hug.

Now Alex glanced up at Bobby's inquiry. When she saw the white-wrapped parcel, a small wave of regret lapped over her before she recovered her composure and smiled. "Liv and Toni were supposed to give that to me at closing ceremonies."

He gave her a mute look of dismay.

"Open it," she said with a brief smile. "I already know what's inside."

He handed it to her. "Whatever it is, it's yours to open, not mine."

Both gratified and dismayed by Bobby's sense of decorum, she tore away the outer wrapper, then removed the inner layer of tissue. Revealed was an eight-inch square plaque of chestnut-colored wood with an engraved metal sheet centered upon it. The metal border was silver, and silver letters engraved upon its black surface followed the ARWSOA logo in the header, alongside the NYPD shield.

"Presented to Captain Alexandra V. Eames," Bobby read softly over her shoulder, line by line.

"Service Years 1994-2020
"Vice Squad
"Major Case Squad
"Joint Terrorism Task Force

"In recognition of her memoir Ice Blue as the best representation of the highest law enforcement ideals espoused by the NYPD and partner law enforcement organizations.

"April 25, 2024."

He sighed. "You should have been there, Eames...to receive it."

Alex said briskly, "There are more important things than tooting my own horn, Agent Goren. You know I hate being fussed over, especially in public."

"But you d-deserved this, Alex," he argued. "You're a doer. Olivia and I...scribble as a matter of course. You poured your soul into Ice Blue and this was recognition you earned." He rubbed at his neck fretfully. "It's–"

"This is all I need to know that I'm appreciated," Alex calmly said, tapping the signature incised on the very bottom of the plaque. "McGrath authorized this. One of the last things he signed before he resigned. Can you imagine?"

"Even m-more proof that you should have been on stage," he said quietly. "McGrath didn't like you any more than he liked Liv. Acknowledging your achievement was p-probably the most bitter pill he'd ever had to swallow."

She laid the plaque on their dresser. "It's late, Bobby. Let's get ready for bed."

She was surprised that he'd left the bedroom already when she awoke the following morning. She reached a hand out to touch his side of the bed, only to find it cold.

Had he considered their discussion last night more of an argument? Or was it the way she had cut him off? Granted, she was flattered by the award, but the attention had also made her uncomfortable. Part of her was happy not to be called to the podium before her peers. Liv and Toni did more difficult things every day, as did most of the audience. Being lauded for writing a book rather than making an arrest or saving a civilian struck her as unfair.

No, Bobby was probably still stressing over Bruno. She'd spent a restless night, too, between comforting Bobby and Olivia and dealing with her individual grief. Her first meeting with Bruno was still vivid in her mind, with her fresh from Bobby's bed and a little embarrassed to have been seen in the previous day's clothing and Bobby's oversized jacket. Bruno was sharp and would have had to have guessed what had occurred.

Wait, she thought as she stepped to the dresser, didn't I leave the plaque here last night?

There were odd sounds outside the bedroom door, but when she emerged, all appeared normal. Bobby had his back to her prepping breakfast, and Olivia's door was still closed, so she uncovered Bandit, cooed at him as he stretched his wings, then began his morning preen. Alex turned on Morning Edition and disappeared into the bathroom.

Now fully awake and dressed, she blinked as she took the two steps from the bathroom to where the hall opened into the kitchen. The table was set, and Olivia seated in her usual chair next to her bedroom door, dressed for the day with Bandit perched on her left shoulder and Sam, lolling his tongue and tail thumping on the floor, close by her side. Lined up at Olivia's elbow on the table were Captain the stuffed fox, Donna the PetPalz unicorn Bobby had bought her on the way to Michigan at Thanksgiving, and the lavender-infused floppy sheep that was a Christmas gift from Alex's sister-in-law Patty to help Olivia sleep.

Bobby, still in his threadbare morning meal-prep clothes—really, she needed to toss them so he'd wear a newer set, but he always protested that these were "just broken in"—held up a warning hand to her before she took the next step. Dark circles remained under his eyes, as well as under Olivia's, but something had brightened him slightly, for he said, "Just a minute–"

Olivia popped from her chair so quickly that Bandit took flight and landed on her shoulder. "Our final presentation at this year's ARWSOA conference will be made by our guest, Special Agent Robert Goren," she uttered practically in one breath, then sat down again.

Bobby announced gravely, "We would like to extend honors to a decorated retired officer who, in 2023, gave us an outstanding memoir of her career with the New York City Police Department in the memoir Ice Blue. Her words represent the important ideals that the NYPD strives to maintain. Esteemed members, Captain Alexandra V. Eames."

He applauded, as did Olivia, bouncing in her chair, and Sam barked, and then Olivia grabbed each stuffed animal in turn and clapped its forelegs together while she cheered. Alex covered her eyes with one hand for a moment, then, simultaneously embarrassed and touched, skirted the refrigerator and made her way to the stove, where Bobby whisked his hands behind his back and produced the plaque, which he read aloud. Olivia's grin blossomed, for he had not permitted her to read the inscription beforehand, and she cheered and flipped the unicorn into the air when he finished.

Bobby presented the plaque to her with solemn eyes; Alex accepted it, blinking back tears. "In acknowledgment of your excellent service, Captain Eames."

"Speech!" Olivia prompted immediately.

Alex swallowed, then responded in a low voice, "I'm honored to accept this award from my peers. Your support and confidence have meant everything to me during my career. I hope to always represent the NYPD in the finest manner possible and believe those ideals can be met now and in the future by all law enforcement organizations and personnel. Thank you."

She bowed her head in acknowledgment, smiled at Bobby, then began to turn away from the "podium" when he said softly, "Eames..."

She pivoted back to face him.

"...if anyone...um...else told you that all you did was 'carry my water,'" he said softly, swallowed, then finished, "this award is proof that it was never...ever true."

Olivia didn't quite know why they were suddenly in each other's arms, but whatever it was, it was worth waiting a few minutes more for breakfast.

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