by Jayce Ellis
“Sure,” she said, with another shrug. He could hear Ma chastising her about her shoulders staying that way if she didn’t stop, and he smiled at the thought.
“What are you doing here?”
She paused, rolling her lower lip in to chew it. Then she straightened up in her seat and shifted, probably to push one leg underneath her. “Have you ever had to try to live up to a legend?”
Deion thought about it, then shook his head. “I was an only child. I was thankfully never compared to anyone.”
“You’re lucky. I get compared to Mom all the time. ‘Oh, Olivia, Carrie did this. Carrie did that. Carrie got such a better grade in this subject. Carrie had such a beautiful singing voice. Such a gifted dancer. Follow in her footsteps. Carrie, Carrie, Carrie.’”
“And you’re not Carrie and don’t want to be her?”
“I love my mom, don’t get me wrong. But I feel like Gram and Pop want me to be Carrie Part Two instead of Olivia. Gram even told me how they tried to get Carrie to name me after her, so I’d be like a junior or something.” She rolled her eyes and shuddered, like the thought was the height of folly.
Beneath the slightly aggressive posturing, Deion could see the real weariness, the dismay and despair in her voice. She wanted, wonder of wonders, to be loved and accepted for who she was, and not be turned into a facsimile of her deceased mother.
Deion’s heart ached for her. And for a young Carlton. Because the more Olivia talked, the more he remembered Carlton making the same comparisons. For everything Carrie excelled at, his parents had an equal and opposite failure to attribute to Carlton. At the time, Deion had assumed it was a sibling thing, something he couldn’t understand. But listening to Olivia now, it clearly went deeper than that. “So you wanted to get away?”
“Every time they compared me to her, I got more and more angry. And then I decided I wanted to wrestle instead of dance, and they were all like ‘absolutely not.’”
“Why wrestling?” He had to be honest, he hadn’t seen that coming.
Olivia looked a little sheepish. “It’s been hard, you know? And I’ve been angry. With that liquored-up driver who thought he was so smart and didn’t need a ride, with Trey for leaving me, with Gram and Pops for...everything. And it looked like a better outlet than getting into a fight.” Her voice, which had started out strong, almost strident, ended on a trembling whimper, and Deion reached across the table to squeeze her hand. He almost desperately wanted to hug her, to let her cry it out and make her know she wasn’t alone.
“Sounds like wrestling might be pretty awesome for you, then,” he said instead, and after a second, she nodded. “Something brought this to a head, though, right?”
“I saw Trey over the weekend.”
Deion nodded. That made sense. It was fall break for both the high school and Howard, and it sounded like Trey and Olivia tried to maintain a strong relationship.
“He talked so much about how great it was living with Uncle Carlton. How Uncle Carlton gave him freedom, but made sure he did what he was supposed to do. And it sounded so good, like the ability to be your own person.”
“So, then what? You decided to not go back home?”
Olivia shook her head. “No. I was like, I’m gonna make the best of this. I’m gonna wrestle, and get my grades, and it’ll be okay. Then they said no, like it was a stupid thing to even suggest. That’s when I asked if I could stay with Uncle Carlton. Gram was all like, ‘Whatever, go on then,’ but I think she was kinda surprised when I got hype for it.” Olivia giggled, then sobered. “I asked Pops to bring me over. He said he wasn’t driving me over here, if I wanted to go I had to find my way on my own and not to expect anything, because this wasn’t the same situation. Basically telling me I’d be back.”
“Why’s it not the same?” Deion asked.
“Because she’s fourteen and a girl,” Carlton said, his voice carrying from the hallway as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. “I know my parents. They think this is too much for me to handle, that I won’t want to be ‘saddled’ with that much responsibility for that long.” The air quotes around saddled were nearly vehement.
The bitterness in Carlton’s voice was unmistakable, and Deion’s heart ached for him. He turned back to Olivia. “You clearly don’t believe that, else you wouldn’t be here.”
Olivia smiled. “I just want to know what it’s like to get to be my own person. That’s it.”
“You can stay for however long you need. If that’s four more years, let’s do it.” Carlton had stopped behind Olivia’s chair and settled his hands on her shoulders. He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Hey, Ollie.”
She scoffed. “That’s a boy’s name, Uncle C.”
“And yet it suits you.” His smile fell away and he looked at her with concern, his eyes scouring her face. “How’d you sleep, kid?”
“Good.”
Carlton being fatherly, and slipping into the role so easily, was a bit much for Deion to take. He hopped up from his chair and took the few steps into the kitchen. “You hungry, C? We already ate, but I saved stuff to make an omelet for you.”
Carlton’s eyes found his and he looked at Deion with something way deeper than the normal gratitude he expected. “That’d be great, thanks.”
Deion turned his attention to making the omelet, then spoke over his shoulder. “You going into work Monday?”
“Nah, I put in for three days off. See what we can get sorted out, and I’ll take it play by play from there.”
That made sense. He turned and watched Carlton smiling down at Olivia.
“You know I need to call your grandparents again.” Carlton did not sound enthused about that.
She crinkled her nose, and Deion turned away. The sight was a little too endearing for words. “I mean, I guess.” Carlton laughed, and Deion couldn’t help but join him.
Deion finished the omelet and set it in front of Carlton. “Thanks, man,” Carlton said, his eyes traveling up Deion’s frame before settling on his face and smiling.
He had to get out of here. Deion had twenty years’ experience in schooling his reaction to his best friend, but somehow, in the past few days, all that had been blown clear to hell, and he was in danger of getting a hard-on in front of Carlton’s niece. Not a fucking chance.
And not to mention the faint but horrible first stirrings of that raging green monster: jealousy. Had all but begged for a family, and Deion had promised the impossible. But Carlton, who’d never expressed any desire to be anything but alone, was getting a ready-made family thrown in his lap. The levels of unfairness rankled, and there was probably some giddy little sprite or elf or something laughing at his misfortune.
Deion tapped Carlton on the shoulder and walked to the living room, stripping the bed of the sheets and folding the sofa back up. Olivia was in good hands. Deion knew Carlton had been freaked out when Trey arrived, but he’d taken to fatherhood like gangbusters. If anything, watching it had only furthered Deion’s already ridiculous crush. Damn.
Carlton’s phone rang from the bedroom, and a quick peek in the kitchen showed Carlton and Olivia sitting side-by-side, Carlton sharing part of his omelet with her. Guess she was still hungry. Deion called out, “Want me to get it?”
“Please.” Carlton grinned at him and Deion’s heart fluttered.
He darted to the bedroom and snatched the phone before it stopped ringing, and answered. “Hello?”
“Who is this? I need to speak with my son.”
Deion’s back stiffened, and he didn’t bother responding, just walked back out to the front and held the phone out to Carlton. “It’s your mom.”
* * *
“Mom, hey,” Carlton started, accepting the phone from Deion and standing. He wasn’t having this conversation in the open. He strode to the bedroom like his heart wasn’t near to pounding out of his rib cage an
d didn’t fully exhale until he clicked the door shut behind him.
“I’m assuming my granddaughter is with you.”
Far be it for Mom to actually say hello when she answered the phone. “Yes. I left you a message to that effect last night.”
“I don’t bother checking those.”
Of course not. “Then how’d you know Ollie was here?”
“You know I hate it when you call her that.”
Carlton closed his eyes. Why was nothing ever easy? “Mom, this really isn’t the time to discuss Olivia’s nicknames. How did you know she was here?”
“Because she’s been waxing poetic ever since her brother came to stay with you. Talking about how much better of an environment it would be for her, and on and on. Your father and I ain’t had the heart to tell her the only reason you and Trey got along so well was because you’re both gay.”
It took every ounce of willpower Carlton possessed, and then some, not to snap back that Trey wasn’t gay. He wasn’t necessarily straight, though he’d never actually indicated any interest in someone other than the girl he’d previously mentioned. But that was neither here nor there, and it wasn’t for Carlton to tell anyway.
“So,” he said, going back to Mom’s actual remarks, “you told Ollie she could stay here because you were sure I’d send her back?”
“Won’t you?”
He snorted, then refused to apologize, even though he knew how much Mom hated that. “I already told Ollie she can stay here as long as she wants.”
“Ha! We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Carlton dug his fingernails into his palms. “Mom, she’s my family as much as she is yours. If Olivia wants to live here, I won’t turn her out. And I won’t try to turn her into my sister.” He’d heard that part of Deion and Olivia’s conversation. He’d actually heard most of it, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt them. If he was being honest, he was surprised his parents were continuing to use Carrie as the barometer by which everyone else was measured. He’d assumed that had stopped when he’d gone to college, leaving them to fawn over her the last few years of high school. Hearing Olivia talk about it with Deion, knowing how it could break her spirit the way it nearly did his, had cemented the decision in his head.
Mom snorted—because it was okay when parents did it—smoothly ignoring his not-so-subtle dig. “Fine. We won’t stand in your way. But we are Olivia’s legal guardians, so you’ll need to go through the process to formally adopt her as your own. Otherwise, send her back home.” She threw it down there like a gauntlet.
He picked it up. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Mom clicked off without a response, and Carlton tightened his grip on the phone so he wouldn’t throw it across the room. Jesus fuck, why were those conversations so damn hard? Mom was so damn dismissive, so sure Carlton was incapable—or unwilling—to take responsibility for anything, and the desire to prove her wrong was high.
But he couldn’t do that. Olivia deserved better. She needed someone who wanted that responsibility, and to not be used as a pawn in a larger battle. Not that Carlton understood the rules of engagement. He wanted his niece to be happy, loved, and accepted, and he couldn’t do that if he was more concerned about proving his parents wrong than being the parent Olivia needed.
He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and walked into the living room. Olivia had taken up residence on the couch and Deion sat in the love seat. It was...nice, having them there, in his space. Their space.
Carlton perched on the opposite end of the couch from Olivia and placed his elbows on his knees, hoping his voice sounded calmer than he felt. “I spoke to your grandmother. Gram says if you want to stay here, I need to formally adopt you. Is that something you want?”
Olivia shuffled, drawing her knees up to her chest and pressing against the couch arm. “What does that mean?”
It was a good question, one Carlton only had the barest answer to. “It means that you would legally become my daughter, and I would be fully responsible for you. It probably means more than that, but we’ll need lawyers to figure that out.”
“Would I still be Mom and Dad’s?” Olivia’s lower lip wobbled, and she firmed her jaw in a valiant attempt to stop it. For a second, she looked just like Carrie had when she’d scrape a knee, trying to be a big girl and not cry, and Carlton thought he might break. He wanted to give her the world.
“Yes,” Carlton said, a little too forcefully. “You will always be their best and favorite daughter. Now—” he shrugged “—I guess you would just be mine too.”
She sniffled, swiping a finger under her eyes. “Their only daughter, you mean.” Then she grinned and nodded. “Yeah. I think I like the sound of that. If it’s something you want.”
“I do. More than you know.” Carlton blew out a breath of relief, somewhat surprised that he’d been so anxious about whether Olivia wanted him to take that step, ultimatum be damned. It was weird, how much he wanted it, now that they’d agreed. He wanted it more than anything he could remember.
Carlton glanced over at Deion, sitting across from them, looking very much like he’d never seen him before. “What?” Carlton asked.
Deion shook his head. “You continue to astound me, that’s all.”
Carlton didn’t know what to say to that, so he dipped his head and cleared his throat. This wasn’t the journey he’d planned for his life. Deion had always been the one who wanted kids. Carlton had sworn he’d be fine by himself. But he had to admit the last year with Trey had been one of the best of his life. He was apprehensive, anxious, and excited as hell to do this with Olivia.
He slapped his hands on his knees and stood. “Well, I guess I better call some people, see if I can find someone to help me through this process.”
“Uncle C?” Olivia asked from her position on the couch.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” She scooted to the end of the couched and wrapped her spindly arms around him. He bent over and hugged her back the best he could, pulling her close.
“You’re welcome, but for what?”
“For wanting me.”
Carlton sucked in a breath, one matched by Deion’s, and they locked eyes over her head. What the hell had she gone through, that it was ever in doubt?
“Ollie,” he said, pulling back from her and grabbing both her hands in his. “How could you think anyone wouldn’t want you?”
She gave that little half shrug of hers again. “Mom and Dad didn’t have a choice, and Gram and Pops signed the guardianship paperwork when I was a baby. Babies don’t do anything but poop and cry and sleep. That’s different than taking care of a teenager, and they were so sure you wouldn’t want to be bothered. Lord knows they didn’t,” she muttered, more to herself than to them, bitterness lacing her words.
And boy did he understand that feeling, the idea that your family put up with you out of obligation more than desire. That you were nothing more than a responsibility, one they’d be glad to push onto the first willing soul. Maybe that’s why he’d stayed so staunchly single, because he couldn’t bear the idea of anyone else feeling that way about him.
Carlton let go of her hands to massage her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told her. “I’m glad you chose me, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re happy with that decision.”
Olivia stared at him for a few beats, then her shoulders sagged and she leaned in for another hug. When she pulled back, she had an almost serene expression on her face. “I’m gonna go to my room and do some homework if that’s okay.”
He snorted. “Of course it is.” She, like Trey, seemed to love school. He’d see how long that lasted.
She kissed him on the cheek, waved at Deion, and disappeared down the hall.
“Wow,” Deion said quietly from the couch.
Talk about an understatement.
Carlton sat back down and faced his best friend head-on. “D, you know I have to do this, right?”
“No doubt. She’s not going anywhere else. She’s yours and you’re doing the right thing.”
“You think so?” Not that it would change his opinion, but God, he needed Deion’s blessing. Fuck, he needed Deion, who was scheduled to leave...tomorrow, Sunday. And who knew when they’d see each other again? They hadn’t resolved a goddamn thing, and the idea of Deion getting on a plane with things like this between them? It hurt.
“I have no right to ask this of you, man, but...” Carlton started to speak, but words failed him. What he was asking for went beyond friendship. Went into something that trod too close to a relationship, a family. A future.
One beat passed. Then two.
“But what, Carlton?” Deion’s voice was deceptively quiet, and Carlton knew his friend had walked that mental trail.
“Can you stay? Just a little bit longer, just until I get her settled and everything. I know I don’t have the right to ask it of you and you have plans and shit for when you go back, but there’s a ton to do and I don’t know—”
“Of course I will,” Deion said, interrupting Carlton’s word vomit. “You didn’t even need to ask.”
Carlton exhaled. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d been afraid Deion would say no, that he would take his warmth and his comfort and his...love, and run back to Chicago, away from him. This meant them living together long enough—maybe as roommates, maybe as more?—to get Olivia settled, and the paperwork for adoption well underway, and Carlton’s legs up under him.
And God, he wanted it—this time with Deion, where they were, if not a full-on family, then definitely more than just friends. Now that he thought about it, he wanted it more than he could articulate. More than anything he’d dared to imagine.
“You okay there?” Deion’s question pulled him from his musings, and he chuckled softly while nodding.