Available to Chat

by Sutton, Jacy

  He stared at her unwaveringly. He no longer watched her lips or her breasts. Instead, he focused directly on her eyes. Suddenly Olivia couldn’t quite tell if the heat he’d felt a moment ago had been replaced by warmth.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  OLIVIA UPDATED the ad agency’s Facebook page with a screen shot of her newest brunch ad. There was a charming line drawing of a pig and the headline, “Why bring home the bacon when we’ll cook it here?”

  Craig had liked it, and Bob had publicly praised her at the staff meeting earlier in the day. She gave a pleased smile to her computer screen, glanced behind her to see if anyone was roaming the hallway, then opened her messages and reread the exchange from a few nights ago, Jake’s sexy, brazen words, “I’d better see. Turn on Skype.”

  When she’d finished, she clicked over to his page. His profile picture was a tight close-up, artistically done in black and white. He wore a smirky grin and a three-day beard. But what she found so affecting were his eyes. Without the intricacy of color and shading, they appeared luminously large, deep and focused steadfastly on her. He’d only posted the picture recently. She wondered if he’d thought of her when he looked so directly at the camera, knowing she was the one friend of his on Facebook who would gaze at it the longest and with the strongest sentiment.

  She read through some of his recent posts, all things she’d seen before. It was the typical Facebook fare. He congratulated a man on his son’s cross-country ski finish, shared a post from a blogger about the hazards of teaching to the test rather than the student. There was an older photo of a grill covered with hamburgers, hot dogs, and brats sizzling, an open Grain Belt beer off on the side shelf and the caption, “Let the Labor Day bar-b-q commence!”

  Olivia clicked over to pictures. There weren’t a lot. An album called “The Cabin” with some faraway scenes of speed boats and unrecognizable people tubing, a few beauty shots of fish, a large group of people standing in small clumps near the shore of a lake. She clicked off the album and looked at the other photos, the ones not categorized into a specific group. There were several of the kids. In one, Jake’s daughter posed on one knee at a dance recital. There was a picture of her a few years younger as she stood nervously on one foot in front of a grade school classroom delivering a book report. There was one of his son, bare-chested and skinny—ribs poking out everywhere—holding a beach shovel and smiling, one eye half shut against the sun.

  There were some pictures of all four of them, and about a half dozen of Jake and Dana. One posed in front of a Christmas tree, one on a hiking path, another at the front door of their home. The one that pricked most intently was from a long-ago trip to Greece, posed in front of the Parthenon. Dana stood behind him, her chin resting on his shoulder, her smile serene as a neoclassical portrait.

  Looking at the image felt like a sharp knife cutting into her tender skin. Olivia analyzed Dana’s stance. The way she stood behind Jake made Olivia guess Dana was trying to camouflage a few extra pounds, the kind of weight so many women of a certain age struggled with. But her familiar, possessive touch on his shoulder required no presumption. It was the ease of a long-married couple. Comfortable. Familiar.

  And what if that had been Olivia? Would she have stood like that? Or would she have wrapped her arms around him possessively? Would he be looking at the camera, or looking down at her, standing so intimately close? Would they have even left the bedroom long enough to have taken a picture?

  “Who’s that?” Sarah asked, surprising her.

  Olivia instinctively hit the close button, and the couple’s image disappeared immediately. “No one. A high school boyfriend. That’s all.”

  “Ah. Stalking.” Sarah shook her finger at Olivia. “The one who got away?”

  “Something like that,” Olivia said, her stomach tight as a springboard. She opened a file drawer and began rummaging purposefully through it, hoping Sarah would tire of questioning her and leave.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  EVEN THOUGH OLIVIA had gone to bed nearly an hour ago, the book kept her interested enough that she lay awake devouring the story of a couple reunited after a year-long forced separation. The two had just found each other on the train station platform when Mike came upstairs.

  “Must be good,” he said, glancing at her on his way to the bathroom.

  “It is,” she answered, but Mike had already closed the door behind him. Olivia continued reading, but then the literary couple left the bedroom. As they ate breakfast on a piazza overlooking a cobalt-blue lake, Olivia’s interest began to wane, and she realized what a long time Mike was taking coming to bed.

  Jake crowded into her thoughts, and she allowed his imaginary body to press up tightly against hers, allowing herself to feel the fictional warmth emanating from his skin, heating her own desire. But it occurred to her at this moment he likely lay in bed next to Dana. And although Jake told her their lovemaking was infrequent, Olivia conjured an image of him holding her in his arms, rubbing his hand along her bare skin, and Dana lifting her lips to his sweet, tender, desired mouth.

  Mike finally reappeared. “Oh, you’re still up? I thought you would have fallen asleep by now.”

  “Nope,” she answered brightly, closing the book and laying it on her nightstand.

  “Light on or off?” he asked.

  “Off, please.”

  Mike turned on his nightstand light, flipped the main light off, then, per his nightly ritual, he laid down his foam pillow sandwiched between the two thicker down ones, did a karate-chop move into the center of the top pillow, then patted along the corners.

  Olivia watched him in the shadows, thinking back to the hotel room on their wedding night. They’d made love, and after, Mike had held her. Just as she was at the edge of sleep, he’d slipped out of bed and arranged his pillows just this way. She remembered finding it endearing.

  Tonight as he climbed into bed, Olivia reached out her hand and rubbed his forearm. “Comfy?”

  “Yep.”

  “I guess that’s why we never camp,” Olivia said. “We couldn’t get your pillows just so.”

  “Why would we camp? You’d hate it.”

  “I was just being playful,” Olivia said. She moved her hand to his chin. “Want to…?”

  “What?”

  “You know.”

  “Hmmm?” he asked, without much interest.

  “Mike, want to fool around?”

  “Oh.” She could hear the surprise in his voice. “I’m tired tonight.” He patted her hand, just as he had the pillow corners, then turned his back toward her and shut off the nightstand light. Without rolling back, she heard him say, “Night.”

  Olivia rolled to the opposite side and stared at the moonlight through the window. She tried to remember the last time Mike had turned her down, but after juggling it around in her mind, she realized she couldn’t recall the last time she’d offered.

  Mike’s breathing took on the even tempo of sleep, but that felt a long way off for her. Her mind wasn’t exactly racing—more like speed walking. She began thinking through Daniel’s schedule for the week. Then Jake. The ads due next Monday at work. Then Jake. Mike’s reticence. Then Jake. And then she heard the garage door open. She expected Daniel’s footsteps to traipse up the stairs, but instead she heard him wandering about the kitchen, making a late-night snack. Olivia got out of bed, grabbed the sweatshirt she’d left folded on the top of the dresser, and walked out to the family room to say hello.

  She found Daniel on the couch, a large bowl of nuclear-orange Doritos and a Dr Pepper beside him, her computer on his lap.

  “Hey, honey,” she said. She saw he had Facebook open, but he wasn’t looking at the computer, just staring straight ahead. She sat down next to him and realized it was her Facebook page on the computer. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice even.

  “Would you lie to someone you care about?” Daniel did not turn to her as he spoke.

  “Lie?” she asked vaguely.


  “If you care about someone? Or maybe if you don’t care anymore, is it okay to lie?”

  “I’m not sure I have an answer for that.” She laced her fingers tightly together, the band of her wedding ring pressing hard into the knuckle on her right hand.

  “Would you deceive them?”

  Olivia unclenched her hands and rubbed at her temples. “Daniel, what is it?” she asked, not at all sure she wanted to know.

  “I don’t want to be put in the middle.”

  She was about to insist that would never happen when the computer pinged. Jake had messaged her. Her stomach surged from fuzzy to nauseated.

  Daniel looked down at her laptop. Olivia reached her hand around his shoulder. “Daniel,” she said, hearing her own desperation.

  He looked down. His voice sounded weary, as though he were a hundred years old. “Oh,” he said. “This is your account. Sorry.” He set the computer on her lap, stood and walked away without saying another word

  .

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Olivia sat plucking at the threads of last night’s late, awkward conversation with Daniel, and she made no move to answer the phone when it rang. If it was Mike asking about dinner, she’d call him back later when she could think about tossing salads and baking chicken. But then she realized it might be Daniel, even though he rarely used his phone for anything besides texting. When she reached to grab it, she was shocked to hear Nancy say her name. “It’s so good to hear from you.”

  “Oh, Olivia. I am so sorry.”

  “No, it’s me who should say I’m sorry. I put you in a terrible position.”

  “No, no. It’s not that. I’m sorry because I have some bad news. It’s Daniel. I think his leg is broken.”

  “Daniel?” Olivia repeated, as though the name were unfamiliar to her.

  “Your son, Daniel.”

  “Why are you with Daniel?”

  “It’s a bit of a story. Do you want to hear it now or at the hospital?”

  “You’re at the hospital?”

  “Well, not being a surgeon, it seemed like the prudent thing to do.” Nancy tried to tease her out of her thick-headedness. “I could come pick you up. Are you at home?”

  Olivia took a deep breath, hoping afterward the world would make some sense. “No, you stay with Daniel. Are you at Memorial? I’ll come right now.”

  Liza waited for her at the emergency entrance. “Mom’s in Daniel’s room,” she said, giving Olivia a quick, but solid hug. Olivia was startled at how steady she seemed, at how safe the young girl made her feel after the solitary, worrisome drive. With her arm still around Olivia’s shoulders, Liza guided her to Daniel’s room.

  Daniel sat mostly upright on the bed. Aside from the hospital gown and the setting, he looked good—happy and talkative, a different person than he’d been last night. He spoke to a tall man whose robust laugh seemed to fill the curtained-off, makeshift room. Nancy sat in the chair on the other side of the bed, watching them. No one noticed as Olivia stepped inside the curtain.

  When Daniel spotted her, he called out, “Mom, I’m fine,” by way of greeting.

  “Then why are you in the hospital?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound lighthearted.

  “Fine except for this broken leg.” He thumped at his dressing gown, and Olivia could tell the leg was protected, but not yet in a cast.

  Nancy stood and grabbed Olivia’s hand, holding it for a long moment before she hugged her and whispered, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about Daniel. And I’m sorry I abandoned you.”

  Olivia embraced Nancy and held her before she went to Daniel’s side.

  She took Daniel’s hand in hers and pressed her lips to the back of his hand. “Daniel,” she whispered, and her voice cracked. She brushed at a hair on his forehead and then turned to the man with the commanding presence. “How’s he doing?”

  “Really well. He’s a trouper.”

  Olivia nodded, taking the information in. “How bad is the break?”

  “Not too bad. Not too bad at all.” He smiled politely. Everyone was silent for a minute, and then Daniel erupted in laughter.

  Nancy looked at him curiously, then turned to Olivia, chuckling, “He’s not the doctor. This is Brad.”

  Olivia shook her head. Nothing seemed to make sense today. She knew Nancy had talked about a Brad. “Brad and Gus,” she said, trying to fit the names into a meaningful context.

  “Yes,” Nancy said. “Gus is Brad’s yellow Lab.”

  Brad extended his hand. “My claim to fame.”

  “I guess I just don’t understand why you’re all here. And how Daniel broke his leg.”

  Nancy explained Brad had brought his motorcycle to school to give Liza a ride home, but she’d already left with a friend so he’d offered Daniel a lift.

  “How do you know Daniel?” Olivia asked, taking in his casual clothes, which had signaled all along he wasn’t on the medical staff.

  “I went sledding with him and the kids a couple times around winter break.”

  Olivia swallowed and decided to focus on the injury rather than the dribbles of information about this new friendship.

  Brad had brought Daniel safely to Nancy’s but then, after some pleading on Daniel’s part, had let the boy take the cycle out solo around the cul-de-sac. After a few successful circles, Daniel had tried to turn too tightly and toppled the bike, which fell on him.

  “But, Mom, the bike’s fine,” Daniel said, after Brad finished.

  “Oh,” Olivia said simply. She was saved from answering further when a nurse stepped in the room to take Daniel’s vitals.

  Nancy came to her side. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee. There’s a machine at the end of the hallway. I’ll buy.” The moment they walked out of the room, Nancy said, “I’m sorry he was riding without your permission. I wasn’t there or I would have made him check with you.”

  “It’s okay. He probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. We both know that. I’m just surprised. He’s never been interested in motorcycles.”

  “He’s been captivated with Brad’s for the last couple weeks,” Nancy said.

  “So both he and Brad have been at your house a lot lately? Does Daniel come over with Liza?”

  “Liza’s friend Becca, actually. I think Daniel and Becca are dating.”

  “All these people I don’t know,” Olivia said.

  “She’s a nice girl. You’ll like her.”

  “And Brad? Is he dropping off the dog a lot?”

  “No,” Nancy laughed. “He’s picking me up a lot. Olivia, Brad and I are dating.”

  “I’ve missed everything. Since when?”

  “Since one afternoon when we were walking Gus. He told me he was sorry he looked so scruffy. And I stopped and looked at him. Really looked. And I blurted out, ‘You look sexy right now.’ And he said to me, ‘You always do.’” Nancy smiled brilliantly as she told the story. “Then, right on the middle of the Lone Lake walking path, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. And, Olivia, I have not wanted to leave his side since that moment.”

  “Oh, Nancy,” Olivia said, taking her friend’s hand. “I am happy for you.”

  Even with Daniel’s broken leg, reuniting with Nancy felt peaceful, like coming home. As they held onto each other in the austere hallway, Olivia spotted Mike. She waved to him down the long corridor, and when he’d made it to them, she stepped into his embrace. It was as though once he were there, she felt the strength of the three of them.

  “He’ll be fine,” Olivia whispered to Mike. “He’ll be just fine.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Mike said the words fervently into Olivia’s hair, holding her so tightly she had to push him back a step.

  “It’s okay. It’s just a broken leg.”

  “I should have been here. I should have been with you two.”

  Olivia looked up at him, at his anxious expression. She stroked his forearm. “I just got here a little bit ago. It’s oka
y.” The depth of Mike’s concern surprised her, but then Daniel had never really hurt himself like this before, just some scraped knees and a rolled ankle. “Mike,” she said, touching her hand to his cheek. “It’s fine.” Olivia tried to read the expression on his face.

  “I should have checked my messages sooner.”

  Nancy came back to them. Olivia hadn’t even realized she’d stepped away until she reappeared with two white Styrofoam cups filled with something dark and hot, resembling coffee.

  “All is good,” Nancy announced. “Brad will take Liza home, and I can stay with you till Daniel gets his cast put on. Or I could go grab some dinner for you both and bring it to the room.”

  “We’re fine,” Olivia assured her. “Mike, Daniel is in that third room on the left.” She pointed partway down the hall and gave him a gentle touch on his waist, starting him toward their son.

  When he was out of earshot, she turned to Nancy and took her hand. “I missed you. I am sorry I put you in an awkward position.”

  “You’re my best friend. You confided in me,” Nancy said, hugging her. “I’ll do better at it next time, I promise.” They held on to each other for a moment longer, and when they stepped apart, Nancy said, “Now let’s go raid the candy machine. I think Snickers are definitely in order.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  THE FAMILY ROOM was chaos. A kitchen chair, which had served as Daniel’s foot prop, sat at an awkward angle in front of the couch. The side table practically sagged under the weight of mostly empty glasses and nearly filled bowls of food refuse: pistachio shells, orange peels, and unpopped popcorn kernels. Daniel’s fleece Vikings blanket lay jumbled in a heap, half covering a large three-ring notebook and a thick history textbook.

  Olivia made a slight effort to clean by walking a dirty dish to the sink, but the coffee cup she carried in her free hand hampered her from doing more.

  Mike rounded the kitchen corner and grimaced. “This place is a mess.”