What if Tim had a daughter?

Part 18

As Tim and Olivia arrived home, the familiar comfort of their evening routine set in. The house was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the busy station they had left behind. Olivia dropped her backpack by the door, kicking off her shoes as she headed toward the kitchen.
Olivia- What are we making tonight?
Tim followed, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it by the entryway.
Tim- How about something easy? Maybe pasta? (I think it's the fifth time in a row they are having pasta but whenever I have to come up with a dish my brain just shuts off. It is what it is guys.)
Olivia nodded enthusiastically.
Olivia- Pasta sounds good! Can we make garlic bread too?
Tim chuckled, grabbing ingredients from the pantry.
Tim- Sure. You get the bread ready, and I'll start on the sauce.
They moved around the kitchen like a well-practiced team, with Olivia preparing the garlic bread while Tim worked on the pasta sauce. The kitchen was filled with the scent of simmering tomatoes and fresh garlic, and the rhythmic clatter of pans and utensils added to the cozy atmosphere.
As they cooked, they talked about their day—Olivia sharing more tidbits from school and the station, and Tim recounting some of the more amusing moments from his work.
Olivia You and Lucy are really funny when you're together.
Tim glanced at her with a small smile.
Tim- Yeah, we've been through a lot together. It's part of the job, I guess. You end up building that kind of connection with people.
Olivia looked thoughtful as she spread butter and garlic over the bread.
Olivia - It's nice though.
As Olivia spread the garlic butter on the bread, Tim watched her for a moment, sensing there was something more to the way she was acting. He decided to bring up the upcoming Mother's Day brunch, knowing it had been a sensitive subject in the past.
Tim- So, how are you feeling about the brunch on Friday? You excited?
Olivia shrugged, her face carefully neutral as she focused on the bread.
Olivia- I mean, it's fine. Lucy being there will make it better, I guess.
Tim heard the slight edge in her voice, and he could tell she was holding something back. He stopped stirring the sauce and turned to face her more directly.
Tim- "Better"? Come on, Liv. You wanted her to be there. What's up?
Olivia let out a small sigh, still avoiding eye contact. She kept working on the bread, but her movements were slower now, as if she was weighing her words.
Olivia- I just hate how every year it's the same. All the moms with their kids, and they always look at me like... like I'm some charity case. Like I need their pity or something. I don't. I don't need their stupid compassion.
Tim's face softened. He'd known this was hard for her, but it still stung to hear it out loud. He knew how much Olivia hated standing out, especially when it came to something as personal as Mother's Day.
Tim- Liv, no one's looking down on you. They probably just don't know how to act.
Olivia scoffed, finally looking up at him, her frustration evident.
Olivia- That's the problem, Dad. They don't know how to act, and it's awkward. They give me that fake smile, the one that says, "Oh, poor Olivia, no mom around." Like I'm broken or missing something. But I'm not. I have you. And that's enough for me.
Tim's heart ached at her words, but he nodded, understanding where she was coming from. He set the spoon down and leaned on the counter next to her, wanting her to feel heard.
Tim- I get it. And I know it's hard to deal with that, especially when people don't know how to handle things. But you shouldn't have to put up with that kind of pity, Liv. I don't want you to feel like you're anything less just because your situation's different.
Olivia nodded, her hands still busy with the bread, though her mind was clearly elsewhere.
Olivia- That's why I'm glad Lucy's coming. She's different, she doesn't make it weird. Having her there makes it... easier, I guess. But I still hate the whole thing.
Tim watched her carefully, understanding that, despite her words, she had some complicated feelings about the day.
Tim- I'm glad Lucy's going with you too. She's great, and she'll have your back. But, Liv, you don't have to prove anything to those people. You've got everything you need here, and you're not missing out on anything. We're doing just fine.
Olivia finally looked up at him, her expression softening a little.
Olivia- I know. I don't want them to think I'm sad or lonely or whatever. I'm not. I love how things are. I love us. But they don't get that.
Tim smiled, his voice quiet but steady.
Tim- Well, I get it. And that's what matters. You've got me, you've got aunt Genny, Tyler, everyone at the Station, and anyone else who tries to make you feel like you're missing something—they don't know what they're talking about.
Olivia smiled back, a small but genuine one, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
Olivia- Yeah, you're right. I just wish people would stop acting like I'm fragile. I'm not.
Tim- You're not. You're strong, Liv. And it's okay to tell people that in your own way, even if it means just showing up to that brunch with Lucy and being yourself. That's more than enough.
Olivia nodded, feeling a little better after talking to him.
Olivia- Thanks, Dad. I just needed to get that off my chest, I guess.
Tim- Anytime, kiddo.
With that, they returned to cooking, the tension in the room easing as they worked together. Tim knew Mother's Day would always be a tricky time for Olivia, but he also knew she was resilient—and as long as they had each other, they'd be okay. As they sat down to eat dinner, Tim felt a quiet sense of pride in his daughter, knowing she was navigating the complexities of life with a strength he admired.
As they sat down to eat dinner, the mood in the kitchen felt lighter. The tension that had hung in the air earlier seemed to dissolve, replaced by their usual comfort. Tim plated the pasta and garlic bread, while Olivia set the table. They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the familiar flavors.
Tim- So, any exciting school stuff coming up besides the brunch?
Olivia shrugged, twirling her fork in her pasta.
Olivia - Not really. Just the usual homework and stuff.
They chatted about lighter things—school, work, and whether or not their neighbor's new dog was going to be as loud as the last one. Dinner passed quickly, and soon they were clearing the table and heading into the living room to wind down for the evening.
Olivia grabbed her book from the shelf and curled up on the couch, getting comfortable under a blanket. Tim, meanwhile, sank into the armchair with his phone in hand. The house felt quiet and peaceful, with only the faint sound of Olivia flipping pages breaking the silence.