by A. E. Radley
When she turned around, Henry was naked and his clothes were strewn around the bathroom. She saw that the scar on his chest from the heart operation was already nicely healing up.
Henry noticed her gaze, looked at his chest, and pointed to the scar with his finger. “It bleeded.” He smiled proudly.
“Bled,” Olivia corrected as she frowned. “When?”
“Ages ago.” Henry shrugged.
“As in before today?” Olivia clarified.
“Yep,” Henry said as he turned, gripped the edge of the bath, and proceeded to try to climb in by himself.
Olivia quickly realised that he would fall in head first and she stepped forward to put a restraining arm across his chest. She checked the temperature of the water and once she was satisfied, lifted him up under the shoulders and into the bathtub. She tried to hold on to him while she lowered him into the water, but as soon as he was in the bath he pulled away. He started to swish around the tub, alternating between his front and his back.
“Look, I’m a shark,” he said as he swam around.
Olivia laughed. “Yes, you are,” she agreed.
She wet her hands and threaded them through his messy mop of hair, moulding it into a Mohawk, then laughed.
“Let me see,” Henry cried excitedly, and Olivia angled the extending shaving mirror so he could see his hair.
He fell back laughing once he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “You’re silly, Olivia.”
“You’re silly,” she countered with a smile.
“You’re sillier.” He giggled.
“Maybe I am.” Olivia laughed as she looked at the boats on the edge of the tub. “Now, what about these boats?”
Olivia found that she quite enjoyed bath time with Henry; they spoke about boats, giraffes, school, airplanes, astronauts, hotels, and then back to giraffes. Olivia enjoyed talking with Henry. It was relaxing, so much easier than speaking with adults where there were rules and expectations. If she said something that Henry didn’t understand or didn’t agree with, he would either giggle, ignore her, or change the subject.
She managed to navigate the rules of shampooing and conditioning his hair with assistance. Under his instructions, she advised him when she had washed the soapy suds away, and it was safe to open his eyes. Eventually the bath water started to cool, she could see the goose bumps appearing on his arms, and she suggested it was time to get out of the tub.
Finally, he agreed, and she pulled a soft towel from the towel rail and placed it on the floor in front of the tub before grabbing another to dry him.
He stood up and shivered a little as she quickly lifted him from the bath, then wrapped the fresh, warm towel around him. As she rubbed it over his back and arms, he leaned in and looked up at her with a smile.
“Love you, Olivia,” he whispered.
The simple words took her breath away. She obviously knew that she loved Henry, but she had never really considered that he might feel the same way. She wrapped her arms around him and placed a soft kiss on his wet hair.
“I love you too, Henry,” she admitted.
After a moment or two in the embrace, Henry pulled away. He pushed the towel to the floor and left the bathroom in search of his pyjamas. She watched as he walked away, knowing the grin on her face must have verged on ridiculous. But she couldn’t help it. Those three words from Henry changed everything.
* * *
Once Henry was in his pyjamas and had climbed into bed, Olivia was struck by an idea.
“Henry, I think we should make a little movie. What do you think?” She waved her phone playfully in front of him.
Henry looked from the phone to Olivia, eyes gleaming. “What movie?”
“A goodnight movie,” Olivia explained. “We can record it, and I’ll send it to your mom.”
Henry fidgeted excitedly while Olivia set up the phone to record them both. She showed him the little picture of them, and they crouched together to ensure they were both visible.
“Think about what you want to say,” Olivia said with a smile as her thumb hovered over the Record button. “When you see the red light, you need to speak, okay?”
Henry nodded, and she pressed the button. The red light appeared, and Henry leaned in close, taking up all of the screen with his face.
“Mommy. This is a goodnight movie from me and Olivia. I love you. Goodnight and sweet dreams and I love you. Night, Mommy!” Henry shouted quickly, staring raptly at the screen as he did.
Olivia bit her lip to stop from laughing as she looked to the camera. “Buenas noches, hermosa.”
Olivia stopped the recording and put her phone on the bedside table while she picked up a book to read to Henry. It took three passes of the book before Henry’s questions about the next day eventually died down and he was tired enough to go to sleep. When they finished reading, he knelt up and gave her a wet kiss on the lips.
“Night, ’livia,” he mumbled before crawling into the bedding. “I love you.”
Olivia swallowed back the unexpected lump in her throat. “I love you too.”
She slipped off of the bed and pulled the bedding up around him, pressing a soft kiss to his hair, then picked up her mobile phone and headed to the kitchen. She poured herself a well-deserved glass of wine to celebrate surviving the day, and she sent the movie to Emily, hoping she wouldn’t be disturbing her too much. As started to clear up some of the mess in the kitchen—she’d had no idea how much work having a child actually was—her mobile phone started to vibrate loudly on the work surface. Olivia quickly answered it, smiling as she realised who it was.
“Hello, darling.”
“I want to be with you two,” Emily announced tearfully.
“Are you…are you crying?” Olivia started to panic.
“Yes, happy tears,” Emily assured. “That video was adorable. So perfect. Thank you so much.”
“Well, Henry said most of it.” Olivia chuckled.
“But you thought of it,” Emily said sincerely.
Olivia felt herself blush and attempted to change the subject a little. “I’m sorry, but Henry’s asleep…you said not to call you in case he got upset…”
“That’s fine,” Emily soothed. “I called to speak to you. How’s he been?”
“Delightful,” Olivia said sincerely. “I think, well, he’s wonderful. Once he stopped asking if we were going to get married.”
“Married? What?” Emily sounded shocked, and Olivia laughed.
“I told him to ask you about it,” Olivia replied with a grin, practically able to feel the heat of Emily’s blush down the phone.
“Right.” Emily laughed nervously. “Well, I’ll look forward to that conversation, thanks. Everything else go okay? Any problems?”
“I’ll admit I’m a little concerned about tomorrow morning.”
“You’ll be fine. Like I said, just let him come to you. Henry in the morning is a little hard work, but once he wakes up a bit you’ll be fine.”
“I hope so. How’s the writing going?”
“Amazingly,” Emily enthused. “I had a crisis of confidence earlier, but I spoke to Nicole and she really helped. I’ll tell you about that later, when I see you, but it’s going really well.”
“Wonderful.” Olivia smiled and licked her lips nervously. “I miss you.” She hadn’t meant to admit it, but the words just slipped out. Time without Emily now seemed like wasted time. She was surprised by how strong her emotions had become, and so fast.
“I miss you too.”
“I should let you get back to your writing,” Olivia admitted reluctantly. “Or I’ll start flirting outrageously in an attempt to get you to come over.”
Emily chuckled softly down the line. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Olivia whispered, her emotions starting to get the better of her.
“And now I’m going to go because I have to finish this,” Emily said, a touch of frustration in her tone.
“Speak to you tomorrow?”
Olivia asked hopefully.
“Yes, I hope…well, I don’t want to jinx it, but if it goes as well as it’s been going today then…well…” Emily struggled to verbalise her thoughts.
“And to think you want to be a writer, dear,” Olivia said with a smirk.
“I could start to dislike you, you know.”
They shared a bittersweet laugh.
“Goodnight, Emily,” Olivia said softly.
“Night, Olivia.”
Olivia quickly hung up the phone before she blurted out anything else and closed her eyes as she held it to her chest. She bit her lip and smiled as she realised she actually felt like a teenager with her first crush; any time apart from her lover was sheer torture.
With a sigh, she picked up her wine glass and went into the sitting room to watch some television, trying to distract herself from thoughts of Emily.
* * *
The next morning, Olivia stood by the coffee maker, patiently waiting for it to do its thing and provide her with the only known substance that would get her through another full day of Henry.
Olivia was hesitant about the morning ritual, but Emily assured her that he did it most mornings with Lucy. The usual play of events was that Henry would run into the kitchen to look for Emily, see she wasn’t there, then run back to his bedroom to cuddle with Tiny until he felt more awake. When he came back to the kitchen, he’d silently eat his breakfast and eventually start speaking.
Despite the knowledge that even the exalted Lucy wasn’t enough for Henry in the mornings, Olivia still hoped against hope that the boy would somehow feel at ease with her.
The sound of a door creaking open and the thud of bare feet on the carpeted hallway alerted Olivia to the imminent arrival of her charge. Henry appeared in the doorway, hair mussed, pyjamas in disarray. He squinted as he looked around the kitchen, then turned to examine the sitting room before turning back to the kitchen and regarding Olivia with a frown.
Olivia smiled before turning away to pour herself some coffee. During her own uncomfortable moments of social interaction, she felt more at ease when she wasn’t being watched. The gamble worked; Henry paused in the doorway for several moments before he ran back to his bedroom. Olivia took a sip of her coffee, and considered that it was an improvement on what she’d worried would happen. Her biggest fear was that he might cry.
She made herself some toast and jam and sat down to read the morning paper. By the time she reached the entertainment section, Henry was back and peering at her around the doorframe. Olivia sat stoically, in silence, ignoring his presence even though she monitored his every move.
Slowly, Henry crept into the room. He noisily dragged a chair next to her and sat on it with a tired pout.
Olivia silently reached forward, picked up a slice of toast—Emily had previously instructed her that Henry liked cold toast so the jam wouldn’t melt—and placed it on his plate. She opened the jam jar and placed the plastic giraffe knife that Emily had packed in front of the boy.
He seemed to appreciate the gesture, and the silence, as he applied a generous amount of jam to his cold toast and Olivia poured him some orange juice. He ate while Olivia read, occasionally sipping her now lukewarm coffee.
After a while, she felt him nudge her arm, and before she knew what he was doing, he’d ducked his head under her arm and was making a move to sit on her lap. She uncrossed her legs to better accommodate him and continued reading while he silently snuggled into her. Olivia smiled; she could practically hear the creaking sound of his brain waking up and feeding him the information he needed to function correctly.
After ten minutes, Henry looked up at Olivia with a toothy grin. “Park?”
CHAPTER 40
“Why can’t you just tell me what this is about?” Emily asked.
Olivia paused and faced Emily, ignoring the other pedestrians on the busy New York street. She’d stopped using her crutch, but her walking speed was still much slower than it had been before, which frustrated her.
“Because then I’d have to repeat myself,” Olivia explained obviously.
Emily laughed, looped her arm through Olivia’s, and guided her to continue walking.
“You know, you can actually say things more than once.”
“But to tell you all about it now and then tell them all about it in five minutes’ time…” Olivia shuddered. “It would be exhausting.”
“Okay, we’ll work on that. I’ll add it to our list,” Emily said.
Over the course of the last week, they had decided to tackle their communication problem head-on. They were both too invested for any silly misunderstandings or fears to destroy what was building between them.
Olivia was modifying her behaviour where needed—but only once Emily had explained why a change might be useful. So far it had been working very well, and Olivia was appreciating the new insight into improving her communication and understanding what people expected from her. And why.
She led Emily inside the Italian restaurant. Simon and Sophie were already seated, but rose to offer Olivia and Emily hugs of greeting.
“Have you two been having a nice vacation?” Emily asked before Olivia could launch into a conversation about work. Olivia shot her a grin, understanding what she was doing, then pulled out a chair for her. Emily sat down.
“Holiday,” Simon corrected. “If you’re going to use our language, then use it properly.”
“Vacation.” Emily grinned at him.
Olivia took her own chair. “Vacation,” she confirmed to Simon with a smirk.
“It’s been amazing,” Sophie cut in. “We’ve seen so much. I always wanted to come to New York, but now that I’m actually here…wow.”
“I need to see more of it,” Emily admitted. “Isn’t it always the way that when you live somewhere, you don’t appreciate it as much as a tourist would?”
“True. I’ve lived in London for years and hardly been to any tourist attractions,” Simon confessed.
Emily turned to Olivia, who was looking at the menu and attempting to ignore the conversation. “I presume you haven’t had time to do many touristy things in either London or New York?”
Olivia looked up. “Me? No.” She shook her head, then frowned in thought. “Well, some, I guess. I did get invited to a lot of events in London.”
“She’s seen everything,” Simon told Emily. “During the time I’ve worked with her, she’s been to one event or another at every place you could name. She’s even been to Buckingham Palace.”
Emily snapped her head around to Olivia. “You’ve been to Buckingham Palace?”
“She’s met the Queen,” Simon added.
“You’ve met the Queen?” Emily stared in surprise.
Olivia swallowed as she looked at the three people staring at her. “Yes. Well, twice. Once at the palace during a garden party and once at the Tate gallery.”
“You’ve met the Queen twice?” Emily repeated.
“Yes.”
“And you never mentioned this?” Emily chuckled and picked up her menu. “This is also going on the list.”
Simon laughed at their interaction. “Anyway, thank you for inviting us to lunch.”
“Thank you for getting me in trouble,” Olivia joked.
“You’re not in trouble,” Emily sighed with a smile.
“Do I like chervil?” Olivia asked Simon.
“You called it parsley with a French accent, but you ate it,” Simon told her.
“Oh, yes, now I recall. Oh, and, make sure you don’t have the ricotta. It upset your stomach last time.” Olivia pointed to the menu item containing the offending ingredient.
Sophie chuckled and looked at Emily. “Anyone would think that they’re dating each other.” Olivia and Simon both turned to her with horrified expressions, and Emily laughed.
A waitress approached, and they placed their orders and made small talk until the drinks and bread basket arrived. Emily gave Olivia a small nod, signalling that enough initial convers
ation had taken place and she was allowed to talk about work.
Olivia seized upon the opportunity. “I’m stepping down.”
Simon coughed into his beer. “I’m sorry, what?” He wiped at his mouth with a napkin.
Olivia turned to see Emily staring at her, open-mouthed.
“I’m stepping down,” she repeated.
“You’re giving up?” Simon asked sadly.
Olivia picked up a wholemeal bread roll from the basket and placed it on her side plate. “No, I’ve come to a compromise with Marcus.”
“Compromise?” Simon’s voice rose, and Sophie placed a calming hand on his arm. “Olivia, you can’t trust that man. He—”
“Simon,” Olivia said sternly. She knew she was to blame for some of his antipathy towards Marcus, but that had to end now if they were going to work together. There was no going back from the decisions she’d made. Marcus was in agreement with her plan, and it was up to her to make it work. Even if making it work meant standing to one side and allowing the business to continue without her.
Olivia had fought so hard for Applewood to survive that she had forgotten one essential thing: she needed to do what was in the best interests of the company as a whole. When she looked at restructuring other businesses, she was ruthless and pragmatic. When she had initially attempted to save Applewood, she’d been too emotional and too personally invested. Once she’d managed to step to one side, she’d known what she needed to do.
Simon took a deep breath and nodded his head. “Sorry, go on.”
“Marcus is no longer going to file the anonymous complaint with the regulator, and we had a long discussion about a gap in his portfolio: audit and corporate restructuring. We’ve agreed that he’ll partner with Applewood for those projects.” She broke open the bread roll and started to layer a small amount of butter on it.
“This means that the London staff will keep their jobs, and the business will survive, even though it will be much smaller. Marcus doesn’t have the time or the money to set up his own departments, so this works for everyone.”