by Darcy, A. J.
Victoria opened the door, “Weston, what are you doing here? Are those for me?”
Chuckling, “I’m here to see Olivia.”
“She isn’t here.”
“I am too!” a voice sounded from the kitchen. “Would you like some cookies..?” Olivia trailed off, uncertain what she should call him.
Saving her from finishing her question, Henry called out, “Olivia makes the best cookies. You don’t know what you are missing, sir.”
“Are you sure that they aren’t..?” Weston whispered to Victoria.
“Positive. Olivia feels like the timing isn’t quite right yet. I think her talent is telling her that or she’s waiting until she turns eighteen to see if the earth moves.”
“I thought that happened at fifteen.”
“It’s only happened to my great-grandmother, but we tend to be careful about pushing that button too early.” Victoria chuckled, “Until I accidently made eye contact with you that one time. Olivia isn’t as worried as I was and if she is then she doesn’t show it.”
Pulling her closer to him, “I’m glad you made eye contact with me that one time. I would not change a thing about what created Olivia. It is everything else starting from my mother’s interference that I would change in a minute.”
“I’ve punished myself for years,” Victoria reluctantly admitted. “I never should have let her threats get to me.”
Weston wondered about her reluctance to make eye contact with him as they continued to stand in the doorway. Opting for silence, he waited to see if she would continue with her story.
Taking a deep breath, Victoria jumped right into her story. She suspected that shaking Weston would not be as easy as it had been in high school. Not that it had been easy then.
“Every single failed relationship I have found myself in was because I refused to make things work. I picked badly on purpose without thinking about what affect negative male role models would have on Olivia. I left whenever I noticed things like inappropriate attention towards our daughter; that’s why I left George.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he confirmed her suspicions. “I’m not going to let you go anywhere. A month ago my sister told me that I needed to forgive my mother for what she did to us. I can’t continue to let her interference destroy what we can have right now. Can you forgive me for believing that stupid lie about Alex?”
Nodding her head, Victoria asked why he was there.
“I’m here to ask my daughter on a date.”
"So why did you decide to become a police officer..." Olivia paused, still wondering how to address the man across from her that held half of her DNA.
He understood the confused expression on her face. "You don't have to call me Dad or Father until you are ready to. Weston or Officer Greene is fine; just not Mr. Greene because that will always be my father."
She thought carefully as she took a long pull off the straw in her drink, "Okay, Weston."
A faint smile forming on his face, he answered her question, "I had a friend in college whose father was an officer. He was killed in a hit and run when he pulled over to help a lady whose car had a flat tire. The driver was speeding and drunk when he managed to hit the squad car, pushing it into the other car. Officer Morgan was getting the spare tire out of the trunk."
"That's horrible."
"The next day I went to change my major to criminal justice. Austin waited until the end of the semester, dropped out, and went to the police academy." He chuckled, "Later he went back and finished his degree."
"How'd you find drama?"
"I started out as a stage hand when I was a freshman. The stage manager found my talent useful. I knew where everything was or where it needed to be. During the fall production last year one of the girls broke her arm and couldn't perform. They figured out that I'd learned all of her lines just from being there so much and they threw me in the mix. I was better at it than anybody suspected and earned lead roles ever since. The seniors didn't care because I was better than expected and ended up making them look better."
"And it doesn't bother your talent? You mom said it was like a static buzzing when things weren't in place."
"Only in the beginning. Once the edges are smoothed out everything falls into place exactly where it should be." Olivia moved a fry randomly through the glop of ketchup on her plate. “Most of the time I can ignore the static. It’s only when things are directly connected to me or somebody important to me, if they are nearby, does the static get to be too much for me to ignore.”
“Can you give me an example?”
Olivia studied her father for a long moment as she pondered telling him her best example. After several minutes of silence she decided to share it. “For years I felt like there has been something missing from Mom’s person. All I know is that it is a piece of jewelry, a ring I think. I feel the static more clearly every time that Mom was in a relationship with the wrong person. It’s not so bad when she’s single, as if the magic is waiting to see who will be around next. When I was little I’d comment on it; I’d inform her that somebody was not the right person for her because he didn’t have that piece of jewelry that was missing from her hand. It wasn’t until I was eight that I realized that those comments made her sad, but once I realized it I stopped saying anything.” Olivia stared out of the window for a moment. “A few times, in hindsight, I wish that I had spoken up instead of staying silent.”
Weston studied his daughter, wondering what had darkened the light in her eyes. “What happened?”
“I don’t remember the guy’s name. Even if I did I probably wouldn’t tell you because I can tell by the look in your eyes that you are beginning to suspect what my story is about.” Olivia stared at him. “I was thirteen and had just come home from school. Mom was crying on the couch and her eye was already starting to turn purple.” It was easier to look out the window as she recalled the event. “That’s the funny thing about black eyes – they aren’t really black. Purple. Green. Sometimes blue. Yellow. On occasion orange. Never really black.”
“What happened?”
“Mom held a finger to her lips and then pointed to her phone. I grabbed it and ran to my room. I locked the door and hid in my closet as Hunter pounded on the door. He was about to break through it when the police showed up.”
Out the window she recognized Winnie walking down the street and hanging out with some of her theatre friends. She wondered if Winnie had ever experienced anything like some of what Olivia had experienced. If her cousin knew what it was like to be the daughter of a single mother. It was not easy even with her mother’s nursing degree; sometimes the late hours made things even more difficult.
“I did not know that he had broken Mom’s arm.”
Weston sat there, stunned at what his daughter had told him.
“Mom still does not know everything,” she admitted, turning to look her father in the eye. “I’m going to trust you enough to not be a jerk and actually treat my mother right. I think I have a feeling where that missing ring is at.” Reaching for another fry, “You’re going to have to get Mom to trust you. I’m not about to mess with free will.”
Olivia stood up to leave. She had given her father a lot of information to think about, most of it on purpose.
Weston, after thinking about what his daughter had revealed, sat at the booth for another fifteen minutes after she had left. He grasped the unstated message: Neither Whitmore was going to make things easy for him.
Chapter Eleven
The Present - September
She could feel everybody’s eyes on her as she walked down the hallways and sat in class. They were waiting for her to freak out or do something ‘magical’. They wanted a demonstration of her talents. Amusingly enough while they were looking for something big she kept doing small things that went unnoticed.
Olivia chuckled as she thought about the horror they would feel if she demonstrated even just the tiniest piece of her talent; they had a side effect causing her
to be an excellent matchmaker if anybody ever asked her.
She knew that Sophia Kensington should be wearing Michael’s necklace under her shirt. It had the added bonus of getting him to leave her alone. Olivia wondered how she should subtly make the suggestion to Michael.
The football player whose locker was right next to her’s would be unnerved if he knew that he needed to give his letterman jacket to the shy girl five lockers down instead of to the cheerleader. It was also annoying trying to get them to stop making out in front of her locker between classes.
Martha, the girl sitting in front of her, had taken Charlie’s pencil without him knowing. It was currently sitting, incorrectly placed, inside of the front pocket of her backpack. He needed the pencil for…actually Olivia did not know or care why he needed the pencil.
Leaning forward, she risked an odd look coming from Martha, “You might want to loan Charlie his pencil. He’s going to need it.”
Martha flushed at being caught. “How did you know?”
“I know where things are supposed to go; Charlie’s pencil in your backpack isn’t right.” Olivia paused before grabbing a post-it note out of her own backpack. “But this is supposed to be wrapped around the pencil when you return it.”
Blinking, Martha shook her head, confused. Olivia did not even know where that suggestion came from.
“What am I supposed…” Martha started to ask before turning to scribble something on the note.
A minute later, as predicted, Charlie turned around to look at Martha, “Hey, do you have a pencil I can borrow? I can’t seem to find mine.”
“Sure,” Olivia watched as Martha handed the note-wrapped pencil over. “You can keep it.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking at the note before unrolling it.
“Yeah.”
Looking at the number written down on the paper, Charlie threw Martha a quick grin before tearing off part of the paper from the bottom and returned the favor.
After class, Martha turned and looked at Olivia. “What do I owe you?”
“Your silence about my talent,” Olivia suggested.
“Done.”
The girls shook on it before going in different directions.
Olivia pondered the dilemma about how to get Michael and Sophia together. They would be a match that would work throughout their senior year up until Sophia headed out of state for college. She could not “see” past that point.
She paused, wishing she knew exactly how that was knowledge that she was aware of. Sometimes the thoughts that popped into her head astounded even her; it was annoying. But, it was information that she was aware of, somehow, and that made it information that she would use, somehow.
She just did not know how.
Should she create an elaborate scheme? Should she let them figure things out on their own?
Sitting down beside her, Michael was amused about how lost in thought Olivia was right then. He wondered why he never spent more time around her; she seemed like she would be an interesting person to know. Henry certainly liked her.
That made him pause. He knew that Henry had an “It’s Complicated” relationship status. Was it because they had something going on that was not exactly simple? They never held hands in public but they were always together. He saw the way his younger brother looked at her. He saw the way Olivia looked at Henry.
“Why aren’t you dating my brother?” he asked, jerking Olivia out of her silent contemplation.
“It’s too early. We’d only mess things up if we started dating right now. He knows that.” Olivia stared at Michael. “Why aren’t you dating Sophia Kensington?”
Michael’s head jerked. “Sophia doesn’t see me as somebody who has long-term dating potential. I’ve played around too much for her to take me seriously.”
Leaning towards him, aware that Henry was watching them, “I’ll tell you something if you’ll keep quiet about it.”
“What?”
“What my talent is.” Olivia smiled, “You wanted to know once.”
“Okay,” Michael responded, smiling.
“I know where things belong. Right now, your necklace belongs around Sophia’s neck. It should be there at least until the end of the school year before she goes off to college. I don’t know how I know this, but I know it.” She looked at him. “Offer her your necklace; she’ll know you are serious then. You never give anybody that necklace.”
Michael clutched the dog tags that were around his neck. “I never take this off. I’m not supposed to take these off.”
“Not the dog tags. The chain with your class ring on it; everybody knows you don’t wear the ring because of shop class. It’ll be an old-fashioned symbol that you ‘want to go steady’ as they called it when our parents were in high school, I think. Consider it as courting instead of dating. Sophia is old-fashioned and I think she’d love the gesture.”
Michael looked up and saw his brother watching them from around the corner. “Is that what you are doing with my brother?”
“It’s complicated,” Olivia smiled.
Chapter Twelve
“I wish you weren’t working such long hours,” Weston complained one day when he saw Victoria pulling into the driveway.
Her six-month along belly was close to entering the room before her and she could still see her feet, thankfully. But she did had to agree that the long nursing shifts at the nearby hospital was enough to make her feet ache more than she was used to.
“I don’t have much of a choice,” she responded, ignoring Weston’s concern for the most part.
“You don’t have to work you know,” he persisted.
“I have a seventeen year old daughter and a son on the way. I think that is a very good reason to work.” Victoria moved around to the other side of the car to get her purse out of the passenger seat. “It’s not like I kept Olivia’s car seat and crib. It’s not like I could use them even if I had kept them.”
“I can help you if you would let me,” he responded, laying a hand on her belly.
Victoria froze. “Weston,” she whispered, “this is not your baby. This is not your chance to make up for missing things with Olivia. I would change all of that if I possibly could but I can’t. Nobody can turn back time. I’m sorry, but you cannot keep trying to interfere in my life. Yes, we share a daughter, but that’s it.”
“I love you,” he blurted out.
Turning away from him, refusing to make eye contact. “You don’t know me anymore. You haven’t taken the time to get to know me. You hear the stories Olivia tells you about her growing up on your weekly date nights, but you don’t hear my stories.” She continued up the porch steps.
“Because you refuse to tell me. You refuse to let me inside the house when I come to pick up Olivia. You won’t look at me. You asked me to forgive you for keeping Olivia from me, but you need to forgive yourself.” Weston stomped up to the base of the porch stairs. “You need to give me a chance.”
“How can I possibly forgive myself for how Olivia grew up?” She yelled, turning as quickly as she possibly could before grabbing hold of the porch railing. “I can’t change any of it. Did she ever tell you that when she was one I hired the neighbor in our apartment building to watch her. The lady had three teenage children; I did not think anything about the fact that they were never home. I just saw the photos. I thought, ‘This woman knows how to take care of children.’ I could not afford to put Olivia in the campus daycare. I didn’t know how to apply for any of the help I could have gotten as a single mother working her way through college. Yes, my roommate was a huge help when I was working nights, but when we were both in class during the day I needed help. So I paid the neighbor for daycare until the day I came home and Olivia was alone in the neighbor’s apartment, the door left wide open.”
Victoria closed her eyes and Weston led her to the swing, hoping that the repetitive back and forth motion would help sooth her.
“What happened?”
“She had go
ne to the store to buy liquor. Apparently she did that weekly with the money I paid her. Her ex-husband had custody of their three kids because she did similar stunts when they were growing up.”
Weston wiped away a tear that was sliding down her cheek. “Olivia is okay now.”
“I am horrible about judging people. It wasn’t just the babysitter but a string of ex-boyfriends.”
“You told me that you did not put your all into your relationships. That you didn’t try to make them work. Why are you punishing yourself?”
“I didn’t tell you about Olivia,” she sobbed. “I should have. I should have let your mom steal my scholarships. I didn’t fight for us. I should have.”
Weston pulled her as close as he could. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. Just don’t give up on me now that we have a second chance.” Rocking her back and forth, Weston let Victoria cry.
Olivia watched her cousin pace back and forth over her carpet.
“I don’t know what to do!” Winne wailed. Even she would admit that she was being a tad dramatic. “What do I do?”
“About what?”
“Michael Hayes!” Still pacing, “I’ve been in love with him for years. I even started a stupid rumor to get his attention and all it did was push him further and further away.”
“What was the rumor?”
Winnie paused and looked at her cousin as she remembered the rumor that she had created. It was one of those things she seriously doubted Henry would want Olivia to know about. It did not matter that the rumor was a lie; Olivia would not be too happy when she found out what Winnie had done, and that Henry had kept it from her.
“It doesn’t matter,” she lied. “Just something that never happened.”
Olivia stood up from her perch and forced her cousin to sit down. “Look, Winnie, there is nothing you can do about Michael and Sophia.” She forcefully turned Winnie’s head away from the window, “You are going to hate me telling you this but right now they are supposed to be together. I know these things, remember?”