by Claire Adams
“Okay,” Olivia said. “But you don't have to avoid me. You could come by to see me. Maybe we should talk about this.”
It was another thing that I'd been thinking about since Wednesday night. Her and I, dating in such a small town, everyone was going to know everything that we got up to. I wasn't ready to cross the bridge yet.
“We're going to have to be careful,” I told her. “This town gossips like no other. I don't want people questioning us.”
Olivia sighed again. “So I guess you're asking me to start avoiding you too, aren't you?”
“Of course not,” I said gently. “I'm just saying that I want to talk about this in private. Or maybe five towns over.”
“Going to be an awfully long drive to go five towns over for coffee,” Olivia said, and I could hear the grin in her voice again, finally.
“I don't think we'll have any trouble coming up with things to talk about,” I said.
“Well, I guess I'll see you around,” Olivia said uncertainly.
“You'll see me around,” I agreed firmly. “At the very least, I'll see you on Monday morning when I bring Emma in for daycare. I assume that she'll be feeling better by then.”
“Good,” Olivia said.
“Who was that?” Helen asked as she came into the foyer, watching me hang up the phone.
“No one,” I said, feeling guilty again. But Helen was going to need to know about this sooner or later. She'd start to wonder otherwise. I took a deep breath. “It was Olivia Sable,” I admitted. “We went on a date on Wednesday.”
“That's nice,” Helen said, smiling at me. “Olivia seemed like a very nice girl.”
“She is,” I said, surprised at how okay Helen was with the idea that I had moved on to someone else. Maybe she didn't realize that when I said date, I meant...well. I shifted, thinking about where the evening had ended up. Not that I was going to tell my mother-in-law about that.
“I have to get to work,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “If you need anything, give me a call.”
“Will do,” Helen said cheerfully, ushering me out the door.
I was distracted all morning, and lunchtime was no reprieve. I headed over to Ernie's Diner for lunch, craving a tuna melt. “How've you been lately?” Ernie asked as he poured me a cup of his strongest coffee.
I shrugged. “You know, same old, same old,” I said. “Not much changes in a town like this.”
Ernie laughed. “You're right there,” he agreed, looking around the diner, which looked exactly the same as it had for the whole time I'd lived there, right down to the photos on the wall and the chips out of the linoleum. “Heard you've got yourself a new lady friend, though.”
“Who, Georgia Witherspoon?” I asked. “I ran into her at the market the other day, that's all. You know how she is. It's no secret that she's been chasing me for years now.”
“Not Georgia, no,” Ernie said, waving a hand at me. “I meant the new girl. Jeannie Sable's daughter.”
“Olivia?” I asked in surprise. “Emma goes to her place for daycare, that's all. Helen's getting older; I figured it would be easier on her, a little less stress if Emma wasn't her sole responsibility nearly every day of the week.”
Ernie raised an eyebrow at me. “Emma goes there for daycare, sure. We all know that.” He leaned in close. “But I heard your car was parked in her driveway rather late on Wednesday evening.”
I tried to school my features into a neutral expression. Of course, someone had noticed. It was exactly what I'd been worried about. This was a small town, and people took notice whenever anything even slightly out of the ordinary happened.
“So, you're finally moving on from Emily, are you?” Ernie asked, moving to dry some cups. “About time, I'd say.”
“Olivia and I aren't dating,” I said. “Or doing whatever else you're insinuating.” I hoped he couldn't see the faint blush spreading across my cheeks. “We're friendly, sure. But Wednesday night, I was just over there because...” I cast around in my mind, trying to find some plausible excuse. Finally, I hit on one. “Emma forgot her dolly over there during daycare, and she refused to go to bed without the thing. I just went over there to get dolly back.”
Ernie frowned. “Seems like you were over there for a long time if you were just there to get a toy,” he said meaningfully.
“Oh come on, Ernie, I don't know what you want me to say,” I complained. “Like I said, Olivia and I are friendly with one another. I didn't just run in, grab the toy, and leave. We chatted a little. We shared a little wine.”
“Sounds romantic,” Ernie said. “And Emma waited for you that whole time?”
“Emma didn't need her dolly to fall asleep,” I said, knowing full well that I was just digging the hole deeper and deeper. I didn't like lying about it, but I wasn't ready for the whole town to know about Olivia and I yet, and as soon as Ernie knew, the cat would really be out of the bag. “Who told you about the car anyway?” I asked. “You live on the other side of town from me; you weren't just passing through, either.”
“I didn't see it with my own eyes,” Ernie admitted. “Georgia Witherspoon told me about it.”
I should have known.
I sighed and shook my head. The situation was even more complicated than I'd considered, then. It wasn't just about the town finding out that Olivia and I were together. If Georgia was involved in things too, that meant that by going out with Olivia, I was rejecting the woman once and for all. I didn't want to say that she scared me, but I did have to wonder what she would do if she found out that I really wasn't interested in her in the way that she wanted me to be.
I continued to brood as I headed back to the office that afternoon. The balance of a small town community is very delicate, and I didn’t want to upset that balance. But I also had no desire to disappoint Olivia. We'd had fun the other night, and then there was the strength of the desire that I felt for her. And beyond all that, there was the whole thing with her mother. Olivia herself was in a delicate state at the moment. But even if I thought I should stay away from her, I wasn't sure if I could.
As though sensing the direction of my thoughts, Olivia called that evening, not too long after I got home. “Hey,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to check in and see how Emma was feeling.” There was something more to it than that; I could hear it in her voice. But I didn't press, as much as I wanted to hear her admit that she was mostly calling just so she could hear my voice or something like that.
“Emma's doing good,” I told her. “She should be back to 100% by Monday.”
“Good,” Olivia said, sounding distracted. She paused. “I've been invited to this wedding,” she finally said. “It's for an old college friend of mine, and I'm supposed to RSVP by the end of the week because the wedding's in about a month. Anyway, I was just wondering if you'd be my plus one.”
“Oh,” I said, shocked to hear her say that.
“I know it's kind of a big deal, but I won't really know anyone there except for a small handful of people from college. They're all bringing their fiancés and husbands, and I don't want to be the only one there on my own,” Olivia rushed to say. She paused again. “Besides, there will be beer. And cake. And I won't make you dance, I promise.”
I laughed. I wasn't sure that I should agree, not with my uncertainty about this whole relationship, and especially not if everyone else was going to be there with their fiancés and husbands. It sounded like people could very easily get the wrong impression of us. But then again, the more I thought about it, the more that that was a wrong impression that I wanted them to make.
I swallowed hard. That, in itself, said more than all the thoughts I'd had that afternoon. I wanted to be considered a serious couple with Olivia.
Still, as soon as we made this into something serious, there would be consequences. Or repercussions, rather. There was the town to think of, and my evolving grief. There were Emma and Helen. And Jeannie, and my professional relationship with her and her da
ughter.
I didn't know if I should agree to go.
“I'll have to check with Helen and make sure she'd be okay to watch Emma,” I said lamely.
“Oh, right!” Olivia said too brightly, clearly attempting to mask her disappointment. “Of course.”
“I want to go,” I said. “I just need to check.” Then, I shook my head. “Do you think this is a bad idea?” I asked.
“I wouldn't have asked if I thought it was a bad idea,” Olivia said, sounding confused.
“Not about the wedding, but about...us,” I said slowly. I didn't know how to say it to her, but I wasn't planning on playing around with her. If we did anything, it was going to be serious.
“I want there to be an 'us,'” Olivia told me frankly. “But that's up to you to decide, Eric.” She sighed. “Could you try to let me know by the end of the weekend if you're okay with this?”
“I'll let you know,” I agreed. There wasn't anything else I could do.
“All right,” Olivia said. “Have a good night.”
She hung up almost before I could respond.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia
I didn't know what to do about the Eric situation. I knew that he was still upset about his wife's death; that much was obvious. But we'd shared a night of passion like I'd never experienced before. This wasn't Hollywood, and I knew that where feelings were involved, things could happen. I had never gone home with someone after a first date before, and I had never experienced feelings like this. Heck, I'd started the evening unsure if it really was a date or not.
Once he'd admitted that I was the first person he'd slept with since his former wife, I'd known that we were delving into a whole set of baggage. I'd expected there might be weirdness afterward. But I guess I hadn't expected him to just avoid me like that. We were both adults, for crying out loud; surely we could deal reasonably with whatever the situation was. Just talk about things.
And to keep Emma away from me as well, I don't know. That just seemed excessive. When he'd called on Thursday morning to say that she would be staying with her Nana for the day, I'd been surprised, but I'd taken it in stride. When he hadn't shown up on Friday as well, I started to get worried. What if he regretted what we'd done? What if I never saw him again, outside of a professional setting where he was Dr. Jones, and my mother was his patient?
Maybe Emma really was sick. But there was no conviction there.
The truth of the matter was, Eric was coming across a little wishy-washy. Maybe I was just blowing things out of proportion, but I had to wonder if he’d even consider accepting my invitation to have him as a plus-one. I probably shouldn't have asked about it in the first place, but I did want him to be there, both to keep me company and because I could only imagine how sexy he would look in a suit and tie.
That said, we'd only been on one official date. Playing the plus-one card now was a risk. A lot could change in a month. For all I knew, he'd decide that he still wasn't ready for something serious, after losing his previous wife. Or else, I might decide that I couldn't live in Tamlin any longer and wanted to move back to Chicago. Or anything in between.
I sighed and shook my head. I needed a distraction, or I was going to sit here all afternoon worrying myself sick over what he might say. For all I knew, he wouldn't get back to me until tomorrow, anyway. I'd given him until the end of the weekend, after all.
I decided to head over to Mom's house and see what she was up to. The weather was nice that day, and I had a feeling she was probably outside in the garden. Not that there was much left to do. We'd plucked most of the weeds the last time I was over there. Still, I could do with a little sunshine, and I was sure she could as well. That had always been one of her main complaints when we'd lived in the city: hanging out on the roof to enjoy the sun just wasn't the same as hanging out in your backyard.
When I got to Mom's house, though, it wasn't her that I found out in the garden. Instead, there was a young man there, about my age, with a friendly face. He was large and built, and he was currently hacking away at a blackberry bramble, his muscles bulging with every movement of the saw.
He looked over at me as my shadow fell at his feet.
“Hi,” I said hesitantly as I stepped forward, holding out a hand. “I'm Olivia Sable. My mom lives here?”
“Olivia, I was wondering when I'd have the pleasure of meeting you,” the man said smoothly, shaking my hand in a warm, calloused grip. “I'm Buck. Well, Barclay. Barclay Johanssen. But no one calls me that!”
“Buck,” I said, rolling the name around in my mouth. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure's all mine,” Buck said in a charming, twangy drawl. He gestured toward the brambles. “I come by and do some yard work for your mom, from time to time.”
“Oh!” I said. “That makes sense.” I struggled to find something else to say. Fortunately, Mom came down off the porch just then, a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and glasses in the other.
“Figured you could use some refreshment,” she said to Buck. “Olivia, it's good to see you too!”
“Hey, Mom,” I said, smiling at her.
Mom held up the pitcher. “I grabbed a glass for you too, sweetie, when I saw you coming up the drive. I'm sure we all could use a drink on a day like today!”
“It sure is humid,” Buck agreed, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Summer is definitely on its way!”
“Mm, I'm excited for a good summer,” I said, looking toward the sky as though the clouds might signal when the summer would begin. “In Chicago, it always gets so stuffy during the summer. But out here, it's beautiful.”
“Sure is,” Mom agreed. She turned to Buck and handed him a glass of lemonade. “Do you have any plans for the summer, Buck?”
“We have a family reunion coming up in August,” Buck said, frowning. “I'll have to head down to Texas for that. But otherwise, I'm hoping to just get up to the lake a couple of times. Go camping, maybe.”
“Sounds fun,” Mom said. “What about you, Olivia?”
I shook my head. “Not up to much,” I said. “Just running the daycare, the usual.” I grinned. “I'd like to go camping at some point too; it's been ages since I did that.”
“Well, if you're ever interested, I could take you some time,” Buck offered politely. “I know all the best spots in the area if you even just want to talk about it.”
I smiled at him. “I appreciate that,” I told him. “We'll see what the summer holds.”
Mom smiled between the two of us.
“I'm going to try to get this bramble out before it gets too hot,” Buck told us, finishing his drink and gesturing toward the saw. “But thanks for the lemonade, Mrs. Sable.”
“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jeannie?” Mom said, smiling broadly. She grabbed our glasses and started back inside the house, and I trailed after her.
In the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, watching as she started washing the glasses and the couple other dishes that had been used that day.
“Have you talked to Dr. Jones at all?” I finally asked. I didn't want to spoil her good mood. I had to wonder if asking her about the chemo when she was in such a good mood might do the trick. Maybe she'd be more open to what I had to say.
I knew it didn't work that way, but it was worth a shot.
Mom groaned and shook her head. “Is that what you came over here to talk about?” she asked. “To pester me about, rather.”
“I have some money saved up,” I said quietly. “I know it might not cover everything, but it would at least pay for some of your medical treatments. Enough to get you started, while we figure this whole thing out.”
“I can't ask you to do that,” Mom protested. “You've worked hard to save up money over the years. You ought to be putting that money toward a good vacation. Or a wedding, maybe?”
I laughed. “No wedding on the horizon just yet,” I told her. “Or at least, not mine.” I frowned, thinking again about Eric, wondering
if he would take me up on that invitation.
Mom sighed. “Is it too much to ask for my only daughter to have a nice wedding soon? I'm looking forward to having grandchildren, you know. Preferably while I'm still able to chase after them.”
I grinned. “I'm working on it,” I said, even though I knew I shouldn't have as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
“You're working on it, are you?” Mom asked shrewdly.
“Eric and I had dinner again the other night, nothing big,” I mumbled.
“I hope you didn't waste all your time talking about me and my health again!” Mom said. Her eyes softened. “You know, I've been feeling fine, Livy. I've started drinking three cups of ginger tea every day, and the pain is nearly gone! Ginger works such miracles on the human body.”
“That's great, Mom, but aren't you worried that you're just putting a bandage on things? Dr. Jones said that things were getting worse. Maybe you should get checked out again, just in case.”
“I'm fine,” Mom repeated.
“But the chemotherapy treatments, you should start them right away,” I said. “That's what Dr. Jones said.”
“Hush, Livy,” Mom said, her voice surprisingly sharp. I flinched, hardly able to remember the last time that she'd talked to me like that. She took a deep breath, and from the way her eyes slipped closed for a moment, I could tell that she was counting to 10. “I don't need to be bossed around by my daughter,” she said when she spoke again.
“I'm not trying to boss you around,” I said, shaking my head. “I just do wish that you'd at least consider listening to Dr. Jones on this one. He had the education and the tests to back up what he's saying. I'm worried about you.”
“I know that,” Mom said. “And like I've said, I appreciate that.” She scrubbed vigorously at a plate and then nodded toward the island in the center of the kitchen. “Would you mind taking that 20 out to Buck as you leave? Thanks.”