Hope in a Jar

by Beth Harbison

  “Alone? Or is she still with . . .” Oh, God. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? This was none of her business.

  “No,” Olivia said unceremoniously. “She left Donald O’Brien a long time ago.” Her jaw tensed for a moment and she added, though not directly to Allie, “Just about twenty years ago now.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Just about exactly.”

  Of course. It was why Olivia and Caroline had left town.

  Although Caroline had always been nice enough to Allie, Allie had always held it against her that she wasn’t a better mother to Olivia. Even to Allie’s young eyes, it had seemed like Caroline Pelham O’Brien had been a lot more interested in some giddy schoolgirl idea of romance than she was in taking responsibility for herself and her child.

  On some level, those memories had haunted Allie and talked in echoey voices in the back of her mind now and then when she found herself coming too close to settling for the wrong relationship.

  In that sense, Allie had Olivia’s mother to thank for mustering up the strength to kick Kevin’s cheating ass out instead of giving in to the temptation to take the path of least resistance. Conflict, heartache, starting over . . . all of that was resistance.

  Another tense silence ballooned between them.

  “I really like your lipstick,” Allie blurted, unable to come up with anything else. “Not to sound weird or anything . . .”

  Olivia laughed. “That’s not weird. It’s just the kind of thing I notice, too. This is Shiseido. Raisin, I think is the name. I just got a sample and tried it.”

  “I guess you get to try all sorts of things like that with your job,” Allie said, making a mental note of the brand and color. It really was fabulous. Like that lipstick Monica Lewinsky wore in her Barbara Walters interview; everyone had wanted to know what color it was rather than how far she’d gone with Bill Clinton.

  “I do.” Olivia nodded and quirked her Raisin lips. “It’s quite a perk.”

  “Lucky you.” Immediately Allie worried that she sounded bitter. Lucky you sounded so much like fuck you, under the right—or wrong—circumstances. “Seriously. I’d love a job like that.” She was filling in awkward silences now. Babbling.

  She wished this wasn’t so hard. It wasn’t supposed to be. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have believed it would be hard to talk to Olivia.

  But that was a very long time ago.

  “So have you seen Noah Haller?” Olivia asked at last, glancing behind Allie. “I’m supposed to be meeting him here, but I left his number in my hotel room.”

  Noah had mentioned seeing Olivia once a few years ago. He hadn’t said anything about it since, so it hadn’t occurred to Allie that they might still be in touch.

  Then again, he might not have mentioned it because she’d made such a big deal of it.

  Did she say anything about me?

  Did you say anything about me?

  How long did you talk?

  What did you say?

  Her interrogation had been pretty lengthy, now that she thought about it. It probably wasn’t surprising that he’d decided not to bring it up again.

  “You’re meeting Noah?” Allie asked, as casually as she could manage.

  “Yes.” Olivia smiled and shook her head. “Somehow he talked me into coming tonight.”

  “Did he tell you anything about his date?”

  Olivia frowned. “I don’t think so. Why? Who is it?”

  “I don’t know. Her name’s Tori and she went to Churchill at some point, but I don’t remember a Tori from our class, do you?”

  After a moment, Olivia said, “The name doesn’t really ring a bell. But you and I were never the sort to know everyone in school.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “For example, did you know we went to junior high with Lucas Vanderslice?”

  “Who?”

  “Big indie filmmaker. Wrote and directed Highway Twenty-one.”

  “Oh, my God, are you serious?”

  Olivia nodded. “We didn’t get out much. Oh, look, there’s Noah now.”

  Allie followed her gaze and saw him walking toward them from across the room. There was a woman by his side, slim and sexy, with long, glossy dark hair and full, sensuous lips. All the things you’d see in a Cover Girl ad.

  “Oooh,” Olivia said. “And that’s Tori.”

  “Presumably.”

  “My God, what a lot of work she’s had done.”

  “Her?” Allie looked at Olivia then back at Noah’s date. Did Olivia know Tori?

  Olivia laughed. “Can’t even say her name, huh?” She turned her attention back to the approaching two. “I’m going to guess cheek implants, subtle collagen enhancement of the lips”—she looked over the woman like she was a horse—“Restylane, obviously, to get rid of lines without that frozen Botox look.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. “I think there may even be an eye lift there. But it’s excellent work, I have to hand it to her. I hardly recognize her, but as a woman on the street she looks pretty natural.”

  Allie was completely confused. “How long have you known her?”

  Olivia opened her mouth and looked surprised, but she didn’t have time to answer before Noah was there.

  “I see you two have caught up,” he said. He looked a little ill at ease. “How’s that going?” When he asked, he looked straight at Allie.

  “Great,” Allie answered, as if it were impossible to imagine there could be any other answer. “This is just so much fun.”

  “Hold on to your hat, sweetie, it’s about to get more fun,” the woman with Noah said with a white smile that made Olivia lean forward a little bit.

  More admiring assessment, Allie figured. She’d know exactly what it took to have a smile like that.

  Money, most likely.

  The woman did look a bit familiar. Was she a TV personality or something? There was such an air of expectation around them that she felt like she couldn’t ask without insulting her.

  Allie opened her mouth to try to nudge them to remind her but she didn’t get the chance.

  Noah straightened in the woman’s coiled arm. “Olivia, Allie, you remember Tori, right? She’s been dying to see you again.”

  Who the hell was this person? The only Toris Allie could think of were Spelling and Amos and this was not either one of them.

  “Of course.” There was an unmistakable chill in Olivia’s voice and the facts clicked into place for Allie as Olivia spoke. “Vickie Freedman. How could I ever forget?”

  Seven

  Does she or doesn’t she?

  —ad for Miss Clairol

  Good Lord, it looked like Allie was going to pass out or throw up. Maybe both. Olivia had seen this same look on her face after they’d tried Southern Comfort at that Eagles concert at the Capital Center in Landover, Maryland, a thousand years ago. It had since become a shopping center, which made Olivia a little sad, even though she wasn’t going to revisit it no matter what it was.

  “Vickie?” Allie repeated, her voice a sharp arch.

  “I go by Tori now,” Vickie said, disdain dripping from her voice as she looked over Allie. “Goodness, Allison, you look just like your mother! It’s amazing!”

  Noah’s jaw dropped, as did Allie’s posture.

  “What?” Allie asked weakly. It was plain to see she’d been caught off guard.

  “Of course, I haven’t seen your mother for years, but she was just darling then.”

  Allie’s mom was wonderful, but she’d also had two kids and been a superb cook, all of which had taken a bit of a toll on her waistline. To Olivia, Mrs. Denty had embodied every wonderful thing you might associate with the word mom, but there was no way around it, and there was nothing insulting about it: She’d looked like a mom.

  No girl wanted to hear that she looked like her mom.

  Probably not even Alexa Joel wanted to hear she looked like her mom.

  More to the point, Vickie had obviously not
meant it as a compliment, no matter how she tried to dress it up as one.

  “I’m sorry.” Vickie’s forehead moved slightly downward, and Olivia suspected that was as far as it would go, thanks to a very skilled plastic surgeon. “Did I say something wrong? Your mother is”—genuine oh, shit flashed in her eyes—“she’s still with us, isn’t she?”

  Allie gave her an impatient look. “Yes, Vickie, she’s still hobbling around at sixty-three, barely hanging on. It’s funny, though,” she went on. “Because you don’t look like your mom at all. Or your dad. Come to think of it, you don’t even look like yourself. What happened?”

  Now that was the tart-tongued Allie Olivia remembered.

  Vickie’s face colored. “I guess I was just lucky enough to age well,” she said crisply. “Allison, if I said something that somehow offended you, I didn’t mean to. I remember your mother as a lovely woman, and I’d think you would be proud to resemble her, but if there’s some reason that’s an insult, I am sincerely sorry you feel that way.”

  Olivia cringed inwardly. She hated the sorry you feel that way “apology.” “Noah,” she said, trying to lift attention somewhere—anywhere but here. “When we last spoke, you were getting ready to redesign the pavilion down in Fredericksburg. How did that go?”

  “Oh, Lord, do we have to talk about work?” Vickie moaned.

  “Why didn’t you say something before tonight?” Allie asked Noah, keeping her eyes fastened on him.

  “About what?”

  “About this.” She gave the slightest nod toward Vickie.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” he said pointedly.

  The intensity between the two of them was remarkable, Olivia thought.

  “How did this happen?” Allie sounded like she was trying to re-create some sort of terrible accident scene. “Who else have you been seeing?” Her voice rose. “Olivia, Vickie . . . Honest to God, who else? Is Mr. Horner on your speed dial? Is Principal Massi on your Internet joke list?”

  Noah took a step forward, allowing Vickie’s arm to drop awkwardly.

  It was like they didn’t really realize anyone else was around.

  “How did you two meet up again?” Olivia asked Noah, trying to divert this impending car wreck of a conversation.

  “We met at a project site in Urbana back in March,” Vickie said to Olivia. She was so confident, so cocky, that she didn’t seem to notice the intense arc of energy that spanned the space between Noah and Allie.

  “Noah had been instrumental in drawing the plans for a new Towne Center and I was working on behalf of the state historical society to ensure that the integrity of the nearby Civil War battlefields wasn’t disturbed.”

  “How interesting,” Olivia said, although this wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have or the person she wanted to have it with, but since neither Noah nor Allie spoke it was incumbent upon Olivia to keep it going. “So you work for the local government?”

  “I work for whoever hires me,” Vickie said.

  The brief pause she left was just enough time for Allie to produce a sarcastic scoff.

  Vickie ignored it and said to Olivia, “I’m an environmental lawyer. I work with the Cohen, Hahn, and Everett Environmental Team on K Street.”

  “That must be very interesting,” Olivia said again, since she could think of absolutely nothing else to say.

  “It is,” Vickie agreed. “A lot of people assume it’s just about pollution and landfills and tree hugging, but you would be amazed how much the protection and preservation of the environment affects everything around you.”

  “I would imagine so.” Olivia wouldn’t have expected altruism from Vickie, but she was willing to open her mind to the possibility that she’d changed.

  “The smart politicians are starting to see that now, so that’s where the power is—in not blatantly exploiting the environment. It’s the exact opposite of the way things were just a few years ago, and a lot of the old boys haven’t figured it out yet, so the smart money is in my field right now.”

  “What a coincidence that you and Noah should run into each other.”

  Allie sighed.

  “Actually, it’s a surprise we didn’t run into each other sooner. One of the architects, not Noah, had plans for a tower office building that obscured the battlefield skyline behind it. Now that’s just plain stupid, to put up one large tower and piss everyone off when you have an expanse of land that will allow for three smaller buildings, ample parking, and the potential for more revenue from leasing the office space and charging for garage use.” She shook her head with what was probably the same condescending smile she had given the poor sucker who had tried to get that one past her. “It’s just foolish. Fortunately, Noah was just brought in to keep the shops in the center the same neotraditional style every other subdivision is using now.”

  “Noah does beautiful designs,” Allie said defensively. “They’re not like every other subdivision.”

  “Oh, they look nice,” Vickie granted her. “All those places do. But again, he could get a lot more done, for a lot more money, in a lot less time if he concentrated his efforts on some of the rebuilding down in Southeast.” She elbowed Noah in a way that suggested this was a conversation they’d had more than once.

  “Maybe he’s not just in it for the money,” Allie said.

  “Allie.” Noah’s voice held a warning.

  “What?” Allie snapped.

  “Let’s step outside for a minute and talk, okay?” He glanced over his shoulder at Vickie and Olivia. “We’ll just be a minute.”

  He led Allie away, and Olivia could see she was talking animatedly as they went.

  “I honestly thought she’d be over the old jealousies of the past,” Vickie said on a sigh, all but clicking her tongue at the retreating figures. “For me, high school seems like it was another lifetime, but to look at Allison you’d think it was just last week.”

  “She’s really close to Noah,” Olivia said. Their body language showed that. “Surely you know that.”

  Vickie waved the notion away with a thin but wiry arm. “We don’t talk much about women from his past.”

  “Well, it looks like she’s part of his present, too,” Olivia said, quiet but firm. “They’re friends.”

  Vickie wasn’t to be swayed. She just shrugged her slender shoulders. “On some level, I suppose, yes.” Then she gave a laugh. “Not the level she’d like, though, you can tell that.”

  There was no point in pursuing this conversation. Vickie wasn’t about to agree that Noah’s friendship with Allie meant a thing and Olivia wasn’t in any position to give an impassioned denial about Allie’s feelings toward him.

  She wasn’t close to either of these women.

  What struck her was that this man she’d thought was so logical and intelligent had somehow fallen for a woman who had spent her early years building a solidly shrewish, catty, mean foundation.

  Granted, Olivia wasn’t a psychologist and she didn’t even have the advantage of parenthood to inform her opinion, but she couldn’t see how someone who actively sought to make others miserable and then took genuine pleasure in seeing those plans succeed could have grown up to be the kind of human being Noah Haller could fall for.

  “Tori?” They were interrupted by none other than Lucy Lee, who looked no different from how she had as a senior in high school. She walked up with her arm hooked in that of an extremely, and unimaginatively, tall, dark, and handsome man.

  “Lucy!” Vickie leaned in and gave her the fake kiss near the cheek that Olivia herself had given countless times. She then slid her eyes to the man, blinked, and said, “Todd.”

  “Tori, how are you?” He leaned in and gave her a kiss, this time a real one, and she raised her hand to his shoulder, where it lingered for just a fraction of a moment longer than seemed appropriate to Olivia.

  Admittedly, it had been a while since Olivia had actually experienced intimate contact, so she might have been hypersensitive to it, but she
watched the two with interest.

  “Lucy, you remember Olivia Pelham,” Vickie said.

  Lucy turned a frozen smile to Olivia, looking at her as if considering a purchase. “No, I’m not sure I do . . .”

  Olivia let her off the hook. “We didn’t really travel in the same circles. I’m not sure we even had a class together.”

  Lucy smiled. “It’s good to see you anyway! This is my husband, Todd Reigerberg.” She held out her left hand, revealing a blinding fiesta of brilliant-cut diamonds wedged onto her narrow finger.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” This was about where the evening ended for Olivia. She’d reached her limit of empty smiles and meaningless small talk. From this point on, all she needed to do was find an opening, make her excuses, and go back to the hotel.

  “Oh, my gosh, there is Sue Ward!” Lucy exclaimed finally. “Shit, she looks great. I’ve got to go say hi. You two take care of yourselves, would you? Oh, and Olivia, it was nice to meet you.”

  Olivia nodded. She was about to make her own exit and had even gone so far as to say, “Well, Vickie,” when Todd caught Vickie’s eye and nodded toward the door outside to the terrace. She gave the tiniest nod of assent before they both turned to Olivia. They must have thought they were in some sort of privacy bubble that they could invoke and dissipate at will. It was totally strange.

  “I’ll be moving along now, too. Good to meet you, Olivia.” He barely looked at her before turning back to Vickie, sucking in a small sharp breath, and adding “Tori” with a nod.

  Olivia watched him go in utter amazement, then turned back to Vickie without bothering to hide it. “You two seem close,” she said, letting the unsaid really close hang in the air.

  “What, Todd and me?” Vickie feigned surprise. “Oh, no. God, no. We hardly know each other.”

  Olivia almost laughed. “Really.”

  “We met once when Lucy interviewed me for a piece on an ancient eminent domain case. Todd’s the six o’clock anchor here, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  Vickie nodded. Her gaze traveled around the room, locked on something—Olivia would have been willing to bet it was Todd—then returned to Olivia. “Where were we?”