Unconventional Lovers

by Annette Mori

  “There’s been an accident…”

  Chapter Two

  Olivia stepped from one of the small rooms at her clinic and pulled the door closed. Standing in the middle of the waiting room with the sturdy, moss-colored chairs, she looked around feeling lost and alone. Brushing her hand against the vinyl, she remembered Irene suggesting she get the antimicrobial material she could easily clean, in case some dog or cat piddled on the furniture. The vinyl looked a bit sterile, but she had to admit it had saved her bacon on more than one occasion.

  Olivia didn’t register the unique disinfectant smell of her business, because it was something she immersed herself in every day. Some clients would wrinkle their nose when they stepped inside an exam room and caught a whiff of the combination of smells unique to many vet clinics.

  Leaning on the curved reception desk, she knew she was probably forgetting something. Evie normally helped her close up, but Olivia had sent her home an hour ago, after assuring her she could handle things on her own.

  Her assistant had tried to convince Olivia to keep the clinic closed for longer than three days, but puttering around in her empty house was far worse than coming into work and going through the motions each day. After only three weeks, she’d finally decided to close the clinic and get away from Moses Lake and all the memories that haunted her. Visiting her older sister, Maribel, for a week might provide the balm to her gaping wound.

  Olivia decided not to wait until morning to make the trek to her sister’s farm. She gathered her things, locked the front door to the clinic, and climbed into her truck. The bag she’d packed that morning occupied the passenger seat where Irene normally sat during their road trips. Evie had agreed to pick up Sasha and dog sit while she was gone, as well as look in on Olivia’s cats and provide a bit of affection each day. Tom and Jerry were relatively self-sufficient, but cats were not as independent as everyone believed. Olivia was convinced they needed at least an hour of loving each day.

  †

  Olivia didn’t have a specific plan as she eased onto I-90 west, heading toward Ellensburg. The trip to Klamath Falls was grueling. She figured she would drive until her eyes started to droop, then she’d find the first cheap hotel that didn’t have an infestation of bed bugs. Motel 6 wasn’t the greatest, but she thought the large chain would be fairly safe. She’d made it to Madras and decided on the Quality Inn, since it looked marginally better than her other choices. If she left at the ass crack of dawn, she might catch her niece, Briana, completing her morning chores. Spending a few minutes with Bri was sure to lift her spirits before enduring the uncomfortable looks from Maribel. Olivia was sympathetic to the uneasiness of her sister. If she was in her sibling’s shoes, she wouldn’t know how to comfort her, either. Losing one’s spouse at such an early age was not something she would wish on her greatest enemy.

  †

  She didn’t need an alarm clock to awaken her, as she’d tossed and turned all night. After giving up on the pretense of sleep, she jumped in the shower and headed out well before the sun started to show its cheery face to the world. She rubbed her tired eyes and climbed back into her truck. She would definitely catch Bri at this rate. The three-hour drive was monotonous, and the silence wasn’t at all helpful, as it forced her to revisit memories of a far-too-short life well lived with Irene.

  Dust from the pocked dirt road kicked up behind her truck, as she traveled up the rough entrance to the farm. Olivia held her hand up in an attempt to shade the bright light from her eyes, as the faded red boards of the aging barn crossed her field of vision. Despite the sadness that draped over her, she smiled when she spied the golden hair of her niece reflected in the early morning sun. Bri was leading a chestnut mare into the pasture.

  Olivia noted the gentle way Bri handled the high-strung horse, even though the large animal dwarfed her barely five-foot frame. Maybe I should nickname her the horse whisperer. Maribel had lamented the decision to buy the expensive breeding horse after being on the wrong end of a well-placed kick. Neither Maribel nor her husband, Greg, could get within five feet of the wretched beast. She’d asked Olivia for advice, but Bri sure seemed to know how to tame the wild mare.

  The truck came to a complete stop, and Olivia saw Bri’s crooked smile as she watched her close the pasture gate then run to greet her. Olivia grabbed the handle to her truck and the door creaked open, as she stepped down to meet her exuberant niece.

  “Aunt Olivia, I’m so glad you’re here.” Bri wrapped her arms around Olivia, and that simple gesture was pure joy and love.

  Olivia returned the hug and felt a tiny bit lighter. She reluctantly let her arms drop and slung her arm across her niece’s shoulder. “Hiya squirt. I better go see your mom, she wasn’t exactly expecting me.”

  Bri frowned as she turned her head and looked at Olivia. “Your eyes are sad again. Mom’s been worried. She’ll be glad you’re here. She keeps mumbling about how we should have stayed longer to help you. Maybe I could come to live with you, then you wouldn’t be so lonely anymore.”

  The innocent comment sparked an idea in Olivia’s mind. She definitely could use the help in her clinic, and Bri would be able to spread her wings a little. The tiny seed began to take root, as Olivia focused on something other than her grief. Taking care of someone would give her a renewed purpose, something she’d lacked in the last couple of weeks.

  “Maybe. You know you’re my favorite niece.”

  Bri giggled. “I’m your only niece.”

  “True, but you’re still my favorite.” Olivia squeezed Bri’s shoulder.

  The two walked slowly to the side door of the large, white-washed farmhouse. Olivia removed her arm and reached for the screen door, letting it bang shut as they entered the spacious kitchen.

  Maribel pivoted in front of the deep porcelain sink, wiping her hands on her pants and grinning. She moved quickly and pulled Olivia into a full body hug. “Hope you’re staying for more than a day or two. We could use the free labor.”

  †

  The morning breeze was a relief from the night’s stifling heat. The old farmhouse didn’t have central air, and sometimes the night temperatures didn’t cool down enough to allow a reprieve, even when Olivia stripped down to nothing. She rolled over on her side, staring at the white wall and wondering how she might approach Maribel with her idea for Bri. When the clattering of the pots interrupted her thoughts, she threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and decided to toss out her idea while Bri was tending to the horses. She knew her niece would already be up finishing her chores before breakfast. Bri was far more diligent about work than most of the young people she had interviewed in the past, with the exception of Evie.

  Shuffling into the large, open kitchen, Olivia spied her sister flipping pancakes on the griddle. She knew Maribel was making blueberry pancakes specially for her. The comfort food reminded them of their youth.

  “Morning, Maribel,” Olivia greeted.

  Maribel offered a tentative smile. “How are you holding up, Olivia?”

  Olivia shrugged. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Of course.” Maribel turned the knob on the gas burner, removed the pancake from the griddle, and slapped it on top of the stack next to the stove. “Come, sit, we can visit for a bit while Bri and Greg finish up their chores.”

  Olivia pulled out one of the weathered, wood chairs and sat. “I’m just going to blurt out my idea. Before you say no, can you listen to my whole spiel?”

  Maribel narrowed her eyes, but nodded.

  “I think Bri has a lot more potential than sticking around the farm and living her whole life here. I know you both love her, but she’s a very talented young woman, and I’d like to take her back with me and give her a job in my clinic. I need the help and frankly, right now, I need a little ray of sunshine in my life. The loneliness and quiet at home is, well…”

  A tear formed at the corner of Maribel’s eye, as she laid her hand on top of Olivia’s. “Oh, hon, you know whe
n you add that last part into your argument, it’s awful difficult to say no. She’s my baby. I’m not quite sure how to let go. I suppose having an empty nest is something every mother goes through, but I thought that was one advantage to having a special needs child; she’d always be with me.”

  Olivia squeezed Maribel’s hand. “You know, that probably isn’t the best way to think about a child with Down syndrome. It’s limiting,” she gently chastised.

  “Oh, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Maribel defended.

  “I know, but that’s how those stereotypes get perpetuated. We need to work on how you think about Bri. She has so much more potential, if you’d let her venture out a little and be a bit less protective.” Olivia smiled to blunt her criticism.

  “You’re right, and I suppose me letting her go to live with you is a start.”

  “So…we can talk to her about it?”

  Maribel nodded. She stood and turned back to the stove. Olivia knew this was about as far as she could go with her sister’s acceptance of Bri coming to live with her.

  Chapter Three

  June 2010

  Deb rapped on the side door of Kathleen’s house, then immediately barged in. A white stick protruded from her mouth, as she sucked on her lollipop. She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed. After she pulled the candy from her mouth, she asked, “How come I don’t smell meat cooking?”

  Kathleen was leaning on the counter with a scowl on her face. “Siera’s not home yet, so I told Jeremy to hold off on grilling the burgers. Jeez, Deb, what are you, ten? A grown woman with a Tootsie Pop addiction.”

  “I’m still trying to find out how many licks it takes before I reach the creamy center. My data seems to change every time I stick in a new pop. Women are much easier. I only have to lick about eight to ten times before I reach their creamy center.”

  “La, la, la, la, I did not hear that. By the way where is your latest flavor of the month?” Kathleen asked.

  “Old news. I dumped her a week ago.” Deb snapped her fingers and waved her hand in the air. “Come on, Sis, keep up. So, back the info train up. Where is my favorite niece?”

  Kathleen frowned. “That is the question of the hour. She’s never late. I’m starting to worry. She’s such a responsible child, and now I’m having visions of some pervert luring her into his web of deceit with a kitten or a puppy.”

  “She’s nineteen and not a child anymore. Cut her some slack.”

  “I know, but I still worry about her. You’ll do the same when you have kids of your own.”

  “Oh no, broached that subject before and scorched my nostrils from the rubber Carrie burned as she took off for greener pastures. I’m never getting married or having kids. Women are impossible to figure out, so I’ve stopped trying, and now I’m enjoying their creamy centers.”

  “Don’t let one bad experience scare you off.”

  “Easy for you to say, you have the perfect spouse.”

  “Nobody is perfect.”

  “Well, tell that nearly perfect man of yours to start grilling, because I want meat.” Deb hopped on the counter and swung her legs.

  Kathleen chuckled. “Um…that sounds kinda weird coming from my lesbian sister.”

  “I know. It does, doesn’t it, but you know what kind of meat I’m talking about.”

  †

  Siera kicked a stone as she shuffled along the gravel path. With her head bent, she didn’t see the other young woman sitting on the bench, at first. The sun was shining bright, but her mood did not match the weather.

  She’d had a horrible day at Walmart. When the group of teenagers walked into the store and snickered as Siera greeted them, she knew at least one of them, would say something mean. Teenagers were especially cruel. High school hadn’t been easy for her, but she had flown under the radar for the most part and had finally graduated. It had been a long, lonely existence.

  “I heard Walmart hires all the retards in town. It’s stupid to have greeters, but I guess they figure hiring the handicapped makes them some kind of civic giant. I sure wouldn’t want to greet people at Walmart all day long. How boring,” a young woman said.

  “Oh, that’s Siera. I heard her mom made such a huge fuss at the school and threatened to sue if they didn’t allow her precious daughter to attend the regular classes. She never said much in class. It’s sad really. Her parents should have let her go to the special school where she could be with her kind.”

  Siera knew most people assumed she wouldn’t understand when someone was saying something derogatory about her, but she always knew. Her mom had to fight with the school to keep her in the regular classroom. It didn’t matter she’d proven she could do the work like everyone else. Each year the new teacher would take one look at her almond-shaped eyes and make the same assumption every other teacher before them had. When Siera would answer the teachers during roll call, she would notice the slight head nod indicating a verification of their assumptions. No matter how much speech therapy Siera had, there was still a slur to her words. Siera hated her thick tongue that she knew was the culprit. Her mother had patiently explained how low muscle tone was a big contributor. That was a frustrating fact that added to her dumpy appearance.

  Finally, in her last year of school, a guidance counselor who didn’t have any preconceived notions about Siera’s abilities had encouraged her to apply to Big Bend Community College. Siera loved Miss Moore for that. Besides her mom and aunt, Miss Moore was the first person who ever believed in her.

  Siera heard the honking of the geese and looked up to see a frantically waving hand. She turned her head, thinking the young woman sitting on the bench was waving at someone behind her. She wasn’t. Siera was alone on the gravel path along the lake.

  As Siera took a few tentative steps toward the young woman, she noticed her crooked smile and couldn’t help the grin that seized her mouth and made her lips turn up in joy. The young woman looked like her, with almond-shaped eyes and small ears like Siera’s.

  Siera hadn’t been around others like her. Her mom had never acceded to the authorities when they’d wanted to relegate her to the special schools for children with Down syndrome.

  Siera knew she had Down syndrome. Her mother had explained everything to her when she was a young girl but made sure Siera knew she shouldn’t let having Down syndrome define who she was, or what she could accomplish in life. What her mom didn’t realize was that mainstreaming, while helping to push Siera to reach her potential, had left her isolated and alone in a very scary world.

  “Hi,” the young girl called out.

  “Hello,” Siera tentatively responded.

  “Do you want to feed the geese?”

  Siera squinted her eyes and noticed the thick, golden-blonde hair pulled loosely in a ponytail. It was beautiful. She had an urge to touch the soft strands. Siera had always been a tactile child, wanting to touch everything soft and shiny. This young woman’s hair glinted in the sunshine.

  “You have beautiful hair,” Siera blurted out.

  The young woman blushed. “My name’s Bri. What’s yours?”

  “Siera.”

  “You can help me feed the geese if you want. They won’t bite,” Bri offered.

  Siera wasn’t so sure about that. She’d seen the geese get aggressive before, but she had to admit they seemed subdued today.

  “Okay,” Siera said.

  Siera sat next to Bri on the bench and closely scrutinized the young woman. She was about the same size, probably not more than five feet tall. Siera hated the extra few pounds around her stomach that made her look dumpy. She noticed the young woman wasn’t as lumpy as she was and wondered if she did some kind of special exercise to combat the genetics associated with their syndrome.

  Siera surprised herself when she asked her about it. “Do you exercise or something? I wish my stomach was flatter.”

  Bri squinted and smiled again. Her eyes traversed across Siera’s body. “You look fine to me. I like to bike and feel
the breeze in my hair. Aunt Olivia always yells at me to wear my helmet. As soon as I know she’s not watching I take it off.”

  Siera couldn’t help herself, she reached out to touch the golden hair. Bri didn’t pull away from the fleeting touch.

  “I think we’re going to be best friends,” Bri declared.

  Siera nodded. She’d never been anyone’s best friend. In fact, she’d never had any friends. Her heart raced at the thought of having just one. Somehow, she knew, in that instant, her life was changed and would never be the same again. It was a welcome adjustment.

  She looked up at the sun in the sky. It was getting late, and she needed to get home before her mom started to fret. A late dinner wasn’t a problem, because when her dad wasn’t working his long shifts, he was always home tinkering away on something he argued needed fixing. Her mom was an obsessive worrier.

  Chapter Four

  Olivia stood in front of the picture and stroked the frame almost as if the wood was her lover. She sighed. Dinnertime was especially tough, because that’s when she missed Irene’s concoctions. Irene always tried to think of new and different ways to cook a vegetarian meal, even though she was a meat eater herself, and on occasion Olivia would eat chicken or fish.

  “You always said life is short, but I never really believed it. Thank God for Bri, or I think I would have turned into a bitter old woman in a matter of months. How can I not embrace life with such a ray of sunshine surrounding me?”

  With one last brush of her fingers on the picture, she retreated to the living room and picked up her e-reader. She expected her niece home any minute. A simple meal was on the counter, covered in tin foil to keep the food warm. Cooking had never been her forte, but she’d learned to make a dish or two after Bri moved in. The perpetually sunny young woman was her savior and had kept her from plunging into the depths of depression after Irene died. Her help in the clinic was an added bonus and one she never took for granted. She hoped Bri was happy living with her, because she hated to think her beloved niece was a crutch to lean on. Olivia wouldn’t keep her sequestered from branching out and making her own way in the world.