They danced wordlessly and made love breathlessly, with only their bodies talking as the moon slid slow across the night sky, tucking into the horizon. In the pink of early morning light, just before the sun came up, George laid her back onto the bed, and trailed his fingertips down her breastbone and around her navel. His eyes held hers as he spoke the first words of the night.
“Will you promise to love me like this forever?”
His question took Olivia by surprise, and she couldn’t answer.
“I’m in love with you, Olivia, more than I have ever been in love with anyone before. I didn’t understand it—any of it—but while I was home I talked to my mom. I told her everything—about my relationship with Nick and how I felt for him, and I told her about you, and about us, and about how you make me feel, and she thinks sometimes it’s not so much about being gay or straight, but about two souls connecting. And she’s right. You and I are connected in a way that would be pure insanity to ever throw away.”
George lifted her left hand and brought it to his lips, gently kissing and tasting her skin before adorning her finger with a sparkle of light. She drew in a breath that she didn’t dare exhale lest the moment evaporate into nothing more than a dream.
“George…”
The ring he slipped on her finger was not the traditional engagement ring with a single diamond. Instead, it was a platinum band with chips of diamonds circling all the way around. It was beautiful in its simplicity, it fit her perfectly, and it stole away every single word from her vocabulary.
“This is called an eternity band. I picked it up at this little antique shop in the Old Market while I was in Omaha. It’s from the early 1900’s, and according to the shop owner, the woman who first wore it lived to be 104.” He traced the band with his fingertip. “See how the diamonds go all the way around? They make it unbreakable. It will stay a perfect, never-ending circle, for all of eternity, just like my love for you.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said when she finally found her voice.
“Liv…” His eyes drifted down to his hand. As he watched his fingertips trail down her side and around her hip, she felt a part of him slipping away from her. She grabbed onto him, bringing his eyes back to hers.
“George?”
“I don’t know what tomorrow’s going to bring, Baby Girl. I can’t promise you the sun will always shine, or the wind will always blow the way you want it to. I can’t promise I will always be the one holding you while you sleep.”
A rush of hot tears filled her eyes, shattering the morning light into glistening fragments as her heart ripped in two. “Is this…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
“No.” He cupped her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with a soft stroke of his thumb. “This is not ‘goodbye.’ This is me thanking you for the incredible way your love strengthens me. This is me promising you that I will never stop loving you as fiercely as I do in this moment.” His hands wove into her hair as he brought his lips to hers, kissing her with a butterfly touch before kissing her cheeks and her eyes, along her jaw and her chin before returning to her lips to kiss the pattern again. His tears mixed with hers, the flavor of them bittersweet. “I promise you with my entire heart and with everything that I am that if there ever comes a day when I can no longer make love to you with my body, for whatever reason, I will forever make love to you with my soul.”
“George…” Her hands slipped around his waist to his hips as she lifted her body into his.
They had already made love all night long, but as they joined together and danced in the rays of the sunrise it was as though it was their very first time all over again, feverish in passion as their hearts united, vowing eternal love to each other. The last little empty corner of Olivia’s heart exploded with light, and she wept in joy.
* * *
George woke her up early to feed her an omelet stuffed with ham and cheese, French toast strips, and sliced strawberries in bed. They shared the food and sipped from the same cup of sweet, creamy coffee, and as soon as she finished eating, George removed the tray. She moved in to him to thank him for breakfast, but he stopped her and handed her a thick manila folder full of papers.
“What’s this?” She started to open it, but George placed his hand on top of the file and held it closed.
“I lied to you by omission, Olivia, and I hope you can forgive me. I also hope you will forgive me for what I’m about to tell you, but before I begin, I want you to know I only did this because I love you more than anything in the world,” George said.
“What did you do, George?” she asked and looked at the file in confusion.
“I butted into your life.”
She pushed his hand off the file and tried to open it but he stopped her again.
“I went to Omaha for Kitty’s, but I also went there to talk to a friend of mine. His name is Richard Collins, and he is a private investigator that I used on more than one occasion for my old job. He’s a good guy who’s smart as hell and knows how to be discreet. Clete and I contacted him awhile ago—”
“Clete?”
George opened the file and pulled out a picture as a means of explanation. The photo was of Toni Tennille Dinwiddie. More accurately, it was a mug shot of Toni Tennille Dinwiddie, but the name on the placard she held said Michelle Lynn Reed.
“She’s not your sister,” George said.
“I know that!” she cried in instant anger as her body quaked and her breakfast lurched in her stomach. Toni had never been Olivia’s sister. Olivia snatched the picture from George’s hand and ripped it into two, then whipped the torn pieces across the room. “Damn you, George!”
“She was the hospice nurse who took care of your mother during the last few weeks of her life.” George’s voice remained calm, his words coming out carefully, speaking to her as though she were a fragile child. “Camille did die of cancer, Liv, but everything else ‘Toni’ told you was a lie. Camille never married and you are her only child. She spent her life in and out of prison.”
Olivia covered her ears.
“She stole a hell of a lot of money from a hell of a lot of people and was full of stories about off-shore accounts where she had it hidden.”
“I don’t care!” Olivia cried out, covering her ears tighter as she curled up tight and began to rock back and forth in agitation. “I don’t care about her or anything else in that file, so you can shut up right now!”
“Richard wasn’t able to find out how Eugene and Camille met or anything about their relationship, but he did confirm that she had been a teller at Juliette Federal Credit Union for six months before she was arrested for embezzling from a chiropractic clinic in Lincoln,” George continued.
“I already know that!” She was beyond pissed and had a hot ball of fire spreading through her chest threatening to erupt. “You better stop talking right now, before you cross the line, George.”
“Clete began investigating ‘Toni’ as soon as you two got home from your visit with her. From the minute she walked into the Barnes and Noble, Clete knew she was lying about being your sister,” George said, ignoring her warning.
“Why?” Olivia demanded. “Because she’s gorgeous and successful and everything I’m not?”
“No. His exact words to me were, ‘George, everything that is Olivia was missing from that woman.’ And Olivia, you are gorgeous. Look in the mirror sometime,” George said.
“Don’t you dare try to flatter me!” Olivia snapped. “This is all about the fucking money isn’t it? I told Clete I didn’t care about the money, but he wouldn’t let it go! I suppose you want a cut of it, too, don’t you?”
“Clete didn’t do this for the money, and I didn’t start helping him for the money. I did this so you would know who your family is.” George reached for her but she smacked at his arms and face and scooted away.
“I know who my fucking family is you ignorant bastard! And until a minute ago I thought you were part of it, but you’re not! N
ot anymore!”
“Olivia, I didn’t want you to believe Toni’s lies and live the rest of your life thinking your mom abandoned you and lived this wonderful life without you. I didn’t want you to think you had a sister out there who had something that you didn’t,” George said, trying to calm her down. “Eugene almost died, and even though you never talk about it, I know how scared you are you’re going to lose him. And I know how hurt and frustrated you are over the fact that you don’t know anything about his relationship with your mother, or why she never came looking for you. When Clete told me about this woman claiming to be your sister, I got worried that you would believe her.”
“I don’t think Camille abandoned me, I know she did! But I don’t care! I never needed her! I have everything I need and everything I want in Eugene!” Olivia cried. “He’s always been my entire family before I met Toni and he was still my entire family after I met her! My mother has been dead to me my entire life and that bitch in the Barnes and Noble was never my sister, even when she claimed she was. Butt the fuck out of my life!”
She ripped the file out of his hands and sent it flying across the room. The papers came loose and fluttered to the floor in a shower of legal forms.
“How would you like it if I started butting into your life? What would you do if I picked up the phone right now and told your dad you’re gay? You’d be pissed if I did that! Well, you know what, George? I’m pissed! You have no right to invite fucking strangers into my life and pick through it with a fine-tooth comb—no matter how discreet they may be!”
She pushed off the bed and grabbed her dirty pants off the floor. They were inside out and twisted in a mess and she screamed as she struggled to fix them so she could put them on.
“Goddamn it, George! Why couldn’t you just leave everything alone?” She hopped into her pants and shoved her bare feet into her tennis shoes.
“Where are you going?”
“For a walk!” She slammed the bedroom door and flew out of the apartment.
She started out in a flat run, but she was crying so hard she had to slow to a walk because she couldn’t see where she was going. For the second time in less than a week, Olivia circled around South as the history of her life smacked her in the face. This time the director of her little world didn’t want a piece of the action. No music played in her head, only images crossed the screen as she looked deeper inside herself and pulled out memories she had left buried a long time ago.
There was five-year-old Olivia, walking fast in front of Eugene so people wouldn’t think they were together, and seven-year-old Olivia telling her teacher that she was adopted and Eugene wasn’t her real father. Better yet, there was eight-year-old Olivia, desperate to fit in with the other kids, snickering with them when Eugene walked by with his head down watching his feet. Or thirteen-year-old Olivia screaming, “I hate you! Why can’t you be normal!” and slamming the door in his face.
The real prize was fifteen-year-old Olivia, getting high behind the bleachers with Pee-Pee, desperate to escape the reality of her life. Drunk Olivia slept with anyone who claimed they loved her, or anyone she hoped one day might, sacrificing her heart and objectifying her body in exchange for empty promises and false love, obsessing over what she felt she had been denied, what she felt had been stripped from her soul. Hating herself. Treating people like shit. Allowing herself to be treated like shit. Becoming a drunken, stupid whore, running in vicious circles trying to escape her pathetic, caged existence.
When she reached Clete’s house, she stopped walking. She harbored a heart full of hate for him and was itching to give him hell, but she knew deep down he didn’t deserve it. She deserved to unleash the rage on herself.
She prayed for that giant pink eraser again, this time to erase the last twenty-six years and start all over again. If she could rewind to the very beginning, she would start and end every single day of her life by telling Eugene that she loved him and appreciated him. She would tell him she understood the sacrifices he made to raise her. She would tell him the deplorable mess she had become wasn’t his fault—it was hers.
She sat on Clete’s front steps with her knees to her chest, and rested her head on her folded arms. She had cried tears up and down every city block in South, and desired to cry a million more, but she had reached the bottom of the well. There were no tears left to cry. All she could do was close her eyes and pray for forgiveness.
Clete came outside and placed a hand on her shoulder. Without looking up, she scooted over to make room for him beside her on the step.
“George called. He’s worried about you.”
“I came here to yell at you,” she said into her arms.
“Go ahead. I deserve it.”
“I’m not going to. I want to ask you something instead.” She turned her head on her arms and looked at him. “Is there anything Allie could do to you that you could never forgive?”
“No,” Clete answered without hesitation.
“Not even if she treated you like shit and said she hated you and secretly wished you weren’t her father?” Olivia asked. Somehow her eyes found new tears. They slid across the bridge of her nose and pooled on her sleeve.
“Not even then,” Clete said. He wiped the tears away and pulled her into his arms.
Her body trembled as her control gave way. “I’m a horrible person.”
“No, you’re not,” he assured her.
“Yes, I am. I wanted a different life. Every day I wanted to run like hell and never look back. I was jealous of Izzie and everyone else I ever met. Of people I didn’t even know. I just wanted to be normal. I wanted him to be normal. I didn’t understand him. I was ashamed of him,” she admitted through her choking sobs.
“You were a kid,” Clete said, as if that simple fact excused everything.
“I yelled at him and called him names and made fun of him behind his back. I told him I hated him so many times…”
Clete held her tighter and whispered, “Don’t do this to yourself, Olivia.”
“And he just took it. He didn’t deserve it, but he took it.”
“He knew you didn’t mean it.”
“I didn’t,” she said as she shook her head. “I didn’t mean any of it. I love him so much.”
“He knows you do.” He pulled her closer to him and held her tighter yet, his solid arms securely anchoring her. “I’m so sorry I started all of this. I wanted you to be happy, Olivia. I was too stupid to see you already were.”
“I am happy,” she said, but cried harder.
“I didn’t understand how you could be with Mitch after what he had done to you, and I didn’t understand that story you told me about your father. But now that I know him, I understand, Olivia—I understand completely—and I am so very sorry.”
“Mitch was the biggest mistake of my life…” Olivia started, but couldn’t finish. Her throat was too tight to get words out.
“Mitch is an idiot who never deserved you in the first place. And he’s going to pay for what he did to you,” Clete promised.
He held her and rocked her in his arms, and whispered words of comfort in her ear. Traffic passed on the street. His cell phone rang in his pocket. Juicy Fruit whined through the fence. Two kids sped past on their bikes down the sidewalk. Clete ignored it all and simply held her. And slowly, one by one, her tears dried.
“Who was my mother?” she finally asked him, ready to hear the truth, ready to know everything that was in the file.
Clete tipped her chin so she would look at him. He wiped her cheeks and smoothed her hair and cupped her face in his hands as he gazed deep into her red, puffy eyes, and answered, “Nobody.”
It was the right answer.
Chapter Seventeen
Olivia’s walk home took her past Carla’s house, and she stopped and rang her bell. Eugene let her in, and she crashed on the sofa and watched Wheel of Fortune and then the entire primetime lineup while he sat at the kitchen table and tinkered with a window air conditioner.<
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They didn’t talk. They didn’t need to. She could have asked him about her mother again, but she didn’t. Maybe Eugene was in love with Camille and Camille was in love with Eugene, and Olivia was conceived in that love. Maybe they weren’t in love and she was nothing more than one big, stupid accident that Camille dumped in his lap the second she got the chance. Maybe it was something else entirely. Olivia didn’t know anything except that Alma Yetter was the keeper of the Camille/Eugene secret. That was why she was privy to Eugene’s perfect fireworks spot. If Olivia asked her to, Alma would more than likely tell her, but Olivia didn’t care anymore.
The only thing that mattered was what had happened after all was said and done and she had been created from random parts of two very different people. Eugene had loved her from the moment he knew she was born, and he hadn’t stopped loving her since. That was all that mattered.
She couldn’t fault George and Clete for not understanding. How could they? Neither one of them knew what it was like to be Olivia Newton John Hanson. She was the only lucky one who did.
After the ten o’clock news, Olivia dusted the Cheez Doodle dust off her t-shirt, stood up and said, “I’m going home.”
“Does George need a George Foreman grill?” Eugene asked without looking up.
“No, but his Cuisinart’s making a funny noise.”
“Have him bring it over.”
Eugene stubbed out his cigarette and took his glasses off to clean them on his t-shirt. He checked them carefully, then wiped at a spot he missed the first time. Once they were clean to his satisfaction, he returned them to their perch on his nose and started putting away his tools. He was done working for the night, but Olivia knew it would be a few hours before he went to bed.
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