by ID Johnson
“Maybe you could take some down to the little lady in the cabin over yonder,” Gramps offered, looking at Memphis.
That isn’t a bad idea, Memphis thought. He’d have the chance to see Olivia again without his family seeing her, and he wouldn’t have to catch a brook to do it. “I don’t know if she’d want any, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to offer.”
“I’ll go with you,” Nash suggested, pulling his line back in.
“I know she wouldn’t like that,” Memphis spoke up. “She likes to keep to herself.”
“How do you know that?” Lyle asked. He was already beginning to gather up the gear.
“She told me,” Memphis shrugged, trying to keep it cool again. “She didn’t even want to answer the door until I mentioned the car.”
“She said, ‘I like to keep to myself’?” Nash repeated.
“Something like that,” Memphis assured him. He wasn’t exactly certain if Olivia had really said those words, but he knew it to be true just from the way she’d acted both times he’d been to her front door. “Let’s fry up a few of them, and I’ll carry them over. But we should probably get it done before nightfall because I don’t think she likes to open the door in the dark.”
“How would you know that?” Nash asked, joining his father on the shoreline.
“Just a hunch,” Memphis said, bringing in his line. He hadn’t caught a brook trout, but thanks to Gramps’s suggestion, he’d still have a chance to talk to Olivia again, and that was an answered prayer in his book.
Chapter Seven
The writing had been going a lot slower than Olivia had ever imagined it could, especially when she’d been in the zone for hours the day before. She’d write a sentence, realize it sounded awful, delete it, try again, and end up wanting to shake her computer she was so frustrated. Nothing seemed to be coming out the way she wanted it to. After a few hours of trying to get the story out in some cohesive manner, she’d stopped and went upstairs to grab her Bible off the nightstand where she’d set it the day before. She brought it down and read over a few of her favorite verses that had to do with overcoming adversity.
One of the verses that spoke to her heart was 1 Peter 5:10. “And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” How many times had she read that verse when she was struggling to produce her first novel? Faith that God would help her to succeed had kept her focused and allowed her to persevere. He had brought her favor beyond anything she could’ve ever imagined for herself. Now, she stopped to pray that He would help her to pay attention to the task at hand and finish what she had started.
While she was praying, she also asked God to watch over Memphis and his family, to help them to have a wonderful time together, full of memories they would share for a lifetime. And… if she was meant to see Memphis again, then let that be the case as well. But if not, let her get him out of her mind and focus on what she had come there to do.
A few minutes later, she picked her laptop back up and began to write again. This time, she felt much more settled, and that peaceful state allowed her to keep the words flowing as she began to formulate the story she’d had in mind when she decided to write this sequel almost a year ago.
Olivia had gotten over three thousand new words written when she glanced up and saw the sun was setting. She hadn’t even eaten any lunch. Though it was difficult to stop writing when she was finally back in the zone, she decided she should probably grab something to eat before she continued. Her stomach was rumbling, and her wrists were starting to ache a bit from the awkward writing position she was forced to use while lying on the couch.
She hadn’t even pulled herself to her feet when there was a knock on the door. It was certainly familiar to her now, and she silently looked up as if to remind God of her prayer earlier. “Only worthwhile distractions!” she whispered. Smoothing her sweater and tossing her hair back over her shoulders, she made her way to the door.
The look on his face when she opened it was priceless. He went from a polite smile to wide-eyed, mouth agape quicker than she could’ve even snapped her fingers. Apparently, she no longer looked like grim death. “Hey, Memphis,” she said, smiling. “How are you?”
It took him a moment. “Ms. Kensington?” he stammered. “I mean… Olivia. You look, uh, you look different.”
She couldn’t help but giggle. “I know. I’m sorry I was such a mess this morning, but I’d been up late working, and when you knocked, I’d just gotten out of bed.”
“I’m so sorry I woke you,” he replied. “I just thought you’d need to know about the tree.”
“No, I’m so glad that you did,” she replied. She noticed he was holding some sort of a container in his hands. “Would you like to come in?”
“Oh, I don’t want to bother you or anything,” he said. “It’s just… well, you were right. We didn’t catch any brook trout. But we caught plenty of rainbow and brown. Too much for us to eat. So, Gramps thought it might be a good idea for me to bring some over to you.” He held out the container and nodded for her to take it.
Olivia could feel the warmth seeping through the aluminum. “That’s so thoughtful of him,” she said, smiling. “And of you. Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I just finished my work for the day.”
Memphis seemed to hesitate, and Olivia realized she’d just asked a strange man she hardly knew into her cabin when they’d have no one else around. Silently, she wished she could take it back. She knew nothing inappropriate would happen, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. “I guess I could come in for a minute,” he finally said.
“Okay.” She stepped back so he could walk past her. “Have you eaten already?”
“I have,” he nodded. “But don’t let me stop you from eating if you’re hungry.”
She wondered if he’d actually heard the rumbling in her stomach or if he was just being polite. “If you wanna have a seat in the living room, I’m gonna grab a plate. I’m actually starving.”
“Which direction is the living room?” he asked, and when she stopped to gawk at him, he laughed, letting her know he was teasing.
“Just because your cabin is ginormous doesn’t mean you should make fun of my cozy little living quarters,” she said over her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want any?”
“No thank you,” he said.
She returned to find him in the chair nearest the fireplace. The trout smelled so good, she could hardly wait to sit down before taking the first bite. “This is so delicious,” she said before she’d even fully swallowed. “If your Gramps’s brook is even better than this, I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
“Believe it or not, it is,” he assured her. “Who cooks the fish in your family?”
“My mom, mostly,” she said with a shrug, spearing another bite of fish. “My sister and I always tried to help some, but I’m not so good in the kitchen.”
He chuckled. “Me neither. My mom is a fabulous cook, though.”
“Really?” She couldn’t help but smile at him, the way he mentioned her with such fondness. “Where’s she at?”
“Hockley, Texas, little spot outside of Houston,” he replied quickly. “My parents got divorced when I was young. We stayed in Hockley with my mom, and my dad remarried and moved to Virginia.”
Olivia could see in his eyes that he wasn’t quite over that, and she couldn’t blame him. She couldn’t imagine what that must have been like, having his father so far away. “I’m sorry to hear that. But you’re close now?”
“I guess,” he said, nodding. “I mean… we’ve been working on it. For a few years.”
“And do you just have one brother?” Olivia thought changing the subject might make him more comfortable.
“Just Nash.”
“Is he older or younger?”
“He’s a couple years older than me.�
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Olivia nodded. “You’re smiling. You must be good friends.”
“He’s a great guy. It’s been harder for us to stay as tight as we used to be since he got married and moved out here, and now he’s got a baby on the way.”
“Wow—it sounds like he’s got a lot going on.” Realizing she didn’t have a drink, Olivia stood. “I’m going to grab some water. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine. I should be getting back in a minute.”
She hoped her movement didn’t make him decide it was a good time to leave, but she was having trouble swallowing without a beverage, so she hurried to the kitchen and filled a glass with tap water. On her way back into the living room, she asked, “So do you live in Houston then?” praying that the answer was something along the lines of, “No, I just moved to a little town called Charles Town, West Virginia.”
“I do,” he said, and Olivia’s heart dropped. “Actually, right now, I’m working on a lot of different oil rigs, so my home could be just about anywhere in the Gulf of Mexico.”
Her eyebrows arched. She’d just assumed he was literally a cowboy—the kind that worked on a ranch. “Oil rigs? Really? That sounds interesting.”
He laughed. “Does it? Because it kind of sounded like maybe you don’t really think so.”
“No, I do,” she assured him. “I’m just… surprised.”
“Did you think I must work on a ranch or a farm or something?”
Olivia felt her face grow red. “No…” she said, coyly. She was aware he could see right through her.
“It’s okay. People assume that. I’ve always loved westerns, riding horses, helping out my grandpa on his farm in Tennessee during the summer. It’s no surprise people just assume I work on a dude ranch.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia replied. “I shouldn’t have made assumptions. Just like you probably shouldn’t have assumed I was a homeless person this morning when you first saw me, and you probably didn’t because you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t jump to conclusions, but you could have.”
His laughter filled the small space, and Olivia couldn’t help but join in. She loved the rich sound of his voice reverberating off the wooden paneling around them. “I didn’t know what to think, honestly. But it was my fault for waking you up.”
“That’s why I didn’t want to open the door!” If she’d had a throw pillow nearby, she probably would’ve made it earn its name.
Once he brought his laughter under control, he asked, “What do you do Olivia?”
The bite of trout in her mouth suddenly seemed to swell to twice its original size. Trying to swallow only made her begin to choke, and she reached for the glass of water she’d set on the coffee table, holding up a finger to ask for a moment. A glance in his direction let her know he was concerned, but she managed to get the fish down eventually. “Excuse me,” she mumbled between gulps of the water.
“Are you all right?” Memphis asked from the edge of his seat.
Olivia wondered if he happened to know the Heimlich Maneuver. “I’m fine. It just… went down the wrong pipe. So it must have been a long drive for you, coming all the way from Houston.”
His eyebrows knit together for a moment, and she couldn’t tell if he was questioning whether or not she was actually all right or if he’d noticed she changed the subject. “Yeah, it took a while. But it’s okay. I miss driving. I don’t get to do it too much now that I’m on an oil rig most of the time.”
“Right,” she nodded. “I enjoy it, too. Especially since I got my new car. There’s just something freeing about hitting the open road. Of course, my drive was only a couple of hours.”
“Where do you live?” he asked, leaning back a bit now that the danger of her choking to death seemed to have passed.
“Charles Town,” she replied, setting her plate down on the coffee table next to the water.
“Did you say Charleston?” he asked, a puzzled expression on his face.
“No,” Olivia smiled. “I said Charles Town. West Virginia. It’s tiny. Most people have never heard of it.”
“Can’t say that I have either,” he admitted. He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair before returning it to its proper place, and she couldn’t help but stare at him as he did so.
Eventually, she remembered it was her turn to say something. “Have you heard of Shepherdstown? There’s a television show based there on Destination America.”
“No. I don’t really watch a lot of television, except for sports, and even then not as much as I used to when I was on dry land.”
She nodded. “How about Harper’s Ferry?” He scrunched his face up, as if he was thinking about it. “It was sort of important during the Civil War. There was a raid there.”
“Oh, yeah!” Memphis exclaimed, his eyes wide. “I remember learning about that. Some guy tried to steal all the guns or something.”
“That’s right.
“Brown…. John Brown?”
“Wow, that’s impressive!” Olivia giggled.
“It is, right?” She nodded. “Huh, my high school history teacher would be so proud of me.”
“I know. Most people who live in Charles Town can’t even remember his name. They just call him that ‘crazy old guy with the weird eyes.’ Anyway, Charles Town is pretty close to Harper’s Ferry, so I thought if you had an idea of where that might be, then you’d know where I come from.”
Memphis smiled. “I’ve heard of Harper’s Ferry, but I wouldn’t have even known what state it was in if you hadn’t told me.”
“Oh,” she mumbled. “Well, it’s also about an hour away from Washington, DC.”
“Now, that I’ve heard of.” He winked at her, and Olivia felt her heart do a little flutter. “My dad lives in Alexandria. I mean… that’s not the only reason I’ve heard of it, of course.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I think there may be some other important buildings there.”
“Maybe one or two.”
“What does your dad do?” she asked, before she realized such a question might remind him that she hadn’t ever answered his previous inquiry into her line of work.
“He owns a company that specializes in national security products,” Memphis explained.
“That sound intriguing. Is he an engineer?”
“Yes, he’s a mechanical engineer. Nash works for him.”
“Impressive.”
He looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment. “I guess we both wanted to follow in our father’s footsteps.”
Olivia tried to wipe the surprised look off of her face. Once again, she realized she’d been too quick to judge. She’d assumed if he worked on an oil rig, he must be a laborer. It never occurred to her that he was actually an engineer. “Where did you go to school?” she asked, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.
“Missouri University of Science and Technology in a little town called Raleigh.”
“That’s interesting. No schools in Texas that interested you?”
“Well, it wasn’t too far from my grandparents in Tennessee, and I got a scholarship, so that made it easy.”
She could understand that. “And do you like working on the oil rigs?”
“I do,” he nodded. “I mean, I haven’t been doing it too long, about six months. But I like that I’m a contract worker, so things are different all the time. I’m not sure I’ll want to do it forever, but it works for now.” His answer didn’t quite seem to match his expression, and she noticed a haunted look in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. It didn’t linger long.
“I definitely think it’s important to enjoy what you do.”
“And what do you do?”
Olivia knew as soon as she’d made the statement what his follow up question would be. She shrugged and waved a hand at him. “I… work with words… mostly.”
Once again, Memphis looked confused by her answer. “You mean… like a writer?”
“Something like that,”
Olivia shrugged. “So did your mom name you after the city she grew up in?” It was an obvious attempt at changing the subject, but she hoped he’d bite.
“Where she was born. She named Nash after the city she grew up in,” he said, but his disposition didn’t change. “What’s ‘something like’ writing?”
Olivia sighed, and giving him a shy smile, she said, “I am a writer. But I don’t really like to talk about my work.”
“Is that why you’re here? Finishing a book or something?”
“Yes,” she said flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I needed a place where I could find some peace and quiet.”
“Oh,” Memphis said, nodding. Then, his eyes widened. “Oh!” he repeated. “I’m sorry—I’m totally ruining that for you aren’t I?” He jumped to his feet, like she’d told him the cabin was on fire.
“No, it’s okay…” Olivia began, though she really thought he probably should go before she became too attached. After all, he lived in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, and she lived thousands of miles away smack dab in the middle of a mountain range.
He was still walking toward the door, despite her best efforts. “I need to get back anyway. Gramps wants to play cards, and since we are here to celebrate his birthday, we are trying to do as much as we can to make it special. So, whatever he wants, he gets.”
She was just behind him as he opened the door. “Sounds fun,” she said with a shrug.
“Yeah, it has been so far.” He stepped out on the front porch. “We’re having his birthday party on New Year’s Eve, if you want to come over. I mean… if you’ll still be here, and you’re not too busy. Nothing fancy—just dinner and cards, and probably some music if he’ll get his banjo out.”
The idea sounded cozy and inviting, but she also felt like she’d be intruding. She puzzled over her answer long enough that he was almost in the yard before she managed, “I’m sure the party will mean a lot to him.”
Memphis stood a few feet in front of her porch, looking back at her. “I hope so,” he said. The expression on his face made her think there was something more he wanted to say, but he only stared at her, and Olivia couldn’t think of the right words either. It seemed odd to end their conversation here when they’d both seemed to really enjoy each other’s company.