blues and greens (barson)

xii.

The new apartment had all of their furniture now.
Noah had asked Aspen to help him decide how he should put his furniture and the two of them were deliberating and talking about what Aspen would like for her room.
She also couldn't stop talking about her shopping trip with Amanda. She apparently had an amazing time.
"I can't find the good knife I like," Rafael complained as he looked through the boxes of kitchenware.
"The big one?" Liv asked as she got up from the barstool on the other side of the island.
"The one I always use to chop onions."
"At my house or yours?" She inquired as she started poking at boxes.
"Yours," he snorted, "as if I had more than one steak knife."
She looked over at him, "you're a phenomenal cook and you barely had any pots or pans or knives."
"I barely ever cooked," he replied as he pulled plates out and started putting them away, "I was barely ever home."
"What the hell did you do during COVID?" She chuckled.
"Practically lost my mind," he responded as he hanging putting pots and pans from the rack that hung over the island.
Liv looked in one box and produced the knife he'd been looking for.
"Ah, thank you," he smiled and took it from her to continue making dinner.
The new apartment wasn't quite finished, they knew there was a lot of things they would need but for now, they had all of their own things and were settled in.
"Okay," Liv sat back on her stool, "we need a dining table and chairs, bedroom furniture for Aspen and for the twins' room."
"I'd like to find a chair or two for my office, depending on the size."
"For who?" She looked up, "you're not going to be taking meetings in our bedroom."
He laughed, "for the kids. If they want to come and talk or anything like that while I've got work to do."
Her heart melted a bit, the idea of him thinking so much about wanting to spend so much time with the kids made her so happy. She looked over at him, the hoodie and sweatpants he was wearing as he cooked. How relaxed he looked, how happy he looked. It made her even more certain.
Rafa could see the way she was looking at him adoringly rather than working on her list. He didn't know what he'd done that warranted the soft look across her features but he wished he could figure it out so he could do it more. When Liv looked at him adoringly like that it made him feel so special and important  and good. He didn't mention it, though, he just kept working on dinner.
"Momma! Rafa! Come look at my room!" Noah came out of his room.
Liv slid off her stool and the two of them walked over to Noah's door and peeked into the bedroom.
"This looked great, Noah," Olivia smiled.
"We'll see about getting you a few posters," Rafael noted the blank walls.
"Okay!" Noah clapped.
"I can't wait for us to get to do my room," Aspen grinned, "this was so much fun."
Rafael was happy to hear Aspen say that, he'd been worried that she would be upset that they hadn't had a chance to get her any new furniture yet.
"Do you want to look at some furniture and see what you like for your room?" Liv asked the young girl.
"Can we?"
Liv smiled, "yeah! Let's go, we can look on my iPad," and she held her hand for the little girl to take.
Aspen grabbed Olivia's hand and followed her from the room excitedly chattering about the kind of furniture she thought she would like.
Rafael turned to Noah, "want to help me with dinner?"
"I don't really know much about cooking," Noah sounded a bit nervous.
"That's okay, I'll teach you."
After a moment of considering, the boy nodded.
Rafa took the time to show Noah how to chop vegetables. Noah took to it rather quickly, but Rafa kept an eye on him as he continued working on the other parts of their dinner.

After dinner, Noah decided he didn't want Aspen spending the night in a big empty room with only the camping cot and pulled it over to his room. He was worried the room with nothing in it would be too scary.
Once they were both settled in, Rafa read them a bedtime story and then joined Liv in their new bedroom.
"Hey," she smiled as she sat her book on the bedside table and her glasses on top of the book.
"Hey," he smiled and wrinkled his nose slightly, "what're you reading?"
He leaned against the couch that had been in his old apartment and was now in their room.
"I, uh," she laughed slightly, "grabbed one of your books from the shelf in there."
"So is it a law textbook, law manual, or a garbage romance novel?"
"You read garbage romance novels?"
"What can I say? I'm a romantic," he snorted and winked at her before heading into the closet, he left the door open as he dug through the boxes of his clothes.
"It's a forensic psychology book," Liv informed him.
"Oh," he poked his head to look through the door, "which one?"
She moved her glasses and held the book up for him to see.
"That one's interesting," he responded as he disappeared again, he was gone from her vision for a moment and then came out in pajamas, "I actually refer to that one a lot."
"It looked the most worn," she smiled, "it's why I grabbed it."
"Well, I have a plethora of law books in there," he flipped the lights off and then climbed into the left side of the bed.
Liv always made sure to leave him the left side, front the moment they started sharing a bed. She knew he preferred it because as a child it was further from his bedroom door and he just never stopped and she wasn't about to force him to. She didn't mind or have a preference, she just liked sharing a bed with him.
Rafa didn't mention that she let him have the left side, he knew he'd mentioned it once a long time ago when they discussed her mother and his father and the way their childhoods had gone. He knew that she remembered that comment because she was always careful to leave him the left side. He wouldn't mention it because it was a painful memory to look back on, the reason he liked to be away from his bedroom door, but he appreciated the little gesture far more than he'd ever be able to show her.
"I'm sure I'll glance at them every now and then," she put the book back on her nightstand.
"Maybe you'll be a lawyer when you grow up," he chuckled slightly as he turned on his bedside lamp and grabbed the file he'd placed on his nightstand.
Liv liked the way the warm yellow of the lamp lit up Rafa's eyes, "Fin said he thinks I should come back to the office Wednesday, so I'll be able to be with the kids tomorrow morning while you're in court and then Aspen's furniture is being delivered in the afternoon."
"I'm glad you found some that she liked earlier," he grinned, recalling he excitement, as he flipped open the file.
"Last minute prep?" She inquired.
He nodded, "I have all of my notes ready, I believe, but I want to make sure I thought of every angle."
"I miss helping you with that."
"Really?" He looked over at her, "I thought I was a pain in the ass always going over everything over and over and over and over again."
"I never said you weren't a pain in the ass," she laughed, "I just said I miss it. Some of my favorite memories are from nights spent far too late at your office, crappy chinese, and a bottle of scotch."
He smiled, mostly to himself, "those are the nights that made me realize I was in love with you."
"It almost always ended in us being too tipsy to discuss the case and talking about life," she laughed, "how could you ever end up in love with someone who sobbed in your office on several occasions?"
"Someone who sobbed alongside me on several occasions," he corrected as his eyes skimmed over the file.
"That's fair," she laughed again.
He loved making her laugh, he loved her laugh. His eyes froze on the file, on something he hadn't noticed before. Something that wasn't in his notes.
"What?" Liv sat forward, looking at his face.
"My whole argument is fucked," he snatched the file and threw the blanket off and rushed to his little office.
"I'm not allowed to help, right?"  Liv called after him.
"No, you're not," he returned with a stack of files and papers and started spreading them across the bed, "you're really, really not. But this goes to court in..."
She glanced at the clock, "ten hours."
"Shit," he scrambled back to his office, "so I really cannot tell you about this case. It's incredibly sensitive."
"Right," she said.
"But, I need your help," he came back with a yellow legal pad and several pens.
"You're a defense lawyer and I'm a cop. If I help you at all I could-"
He interrupted her, "no, no. Not forming an argument. I just need you to write things down for me. You've seen my notes, you know how I like them organized."
"You're picking jurors tomorrow morning, right?"
"Yes, so literally every question I had for voir dire is irrelevant now," he dug through the files, "I just found something that completely demolishes the prosecution's case if I do this right."
"So why not try for a deal?"
He snorted, "the ADA on the case has his head in his ass on his best days, let alone on his worst."
"Alright, well, what do you need from me?"
"I need you to take this," he handed her the legal pad and a pen, "and write down everything I say but retain none of it, alright?"
"I think I can do that," her brow furrowed, "or try anyway."
"You can't go near this case with a ten foot pole, anyway. It's a Staten Island case, but still. Don't."
She nodded and sat with the notepad on her lap and pen at the ready.