That afternoon, Jennifer had plans with Derek, and Amelia had a work thing, so this left Olivia and Mila to drag Camilla out for a manicure along with some shopping and another few glasses of wine with some pasta at their favorite Italian restaurant. They found ways to talk about light things — the latest fashions, the latest in Mila’s work as an esthetician (of eternal interest as they entered their forties) and of course, the latest gossip in Edgartown and Oak Bluffs. On that note, they had just heard that Susan Sheridan’s daughter, Amanda, had been left at the altar by a fiancé she’d been with for many years.
“Imagine it,” Mila whispered under her breath at the Italian restaurant. “You’re twenty-two and you have all these plans for your life and then just suddenly, you’re in your wedding dress and your fiancé just decides not to show up to your wedding?”
Olivia buzzed her lips. “It would totally traumatize me. The poor girl.”
“Poor girl,” Camilla echoed. “Although maybe, it’s for the better.”
Mila arched her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Camilla shrugged. “Well, if he doesn’t want to marry her now, he certainly won’t want to be with her in twenty years from now, so it’s kind of a blessing. Don’t you think?”
Olivia grabbed a breadstick from the center of the table and chewed on the buttery edge of it contemplatively. “I guess you’re right. She dodged a bullet,” she finally said.
Later on, Olivia kissed her friends goodbye and headed back to her house for the night. She was exhausted after the long evening at the house on the water, along with Saturday’s shopping, drinking, eating and gossip. As she stepped toward Captain’s Walk, she stifled a yawn. But as she drew closer to her house, she stopped dead in her tracks.
There, at her front door with a can of spray paint held aloft in his hands, was Xavier Collins.
As Olivia stood in shock, he pressed hard at the top of the can and a spew of red paint came out and drew a firm line across the door. Olivia yelped and rushed toward him. Immediately, he turned and looked at her with big, broad eyes. His eyes held no fear.
“Xavier!” Olivia cried, finally. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Xavier still held the spray paint aloft. For a second, she thought he might come at her with it.
In all her years of teaching, she’d never had someone come to her door like this. She’d never had anyone destroy her property.
“You called my parents. You spoke to them,” Xavier shot out finally. His voice was layered with anger. “And now you’re going to do it again. And my life will really go to hell.”
Olivia continued to gape at him. A million possible responses came to mind. Of course, I called your parents. You look on the brink of some kind of nervous breakdown. Is anyone paying attention besides me? Does anyone care? You’re a bright young man. You have your whole future ahead of you.
But no. This wasn’t the time for moments of volatility. She wouldn’t scream at this young man in front of her house. In the silence, he dropped his spray paint to his side and shrugged his shoulders. He looked on the verge of completely breaking down and crying.
“Why don’t you come inside?” Olivia finally asked. The idea was a surprise to her, even. She hadn’t expected it.
At first, Xavier shook his head in defiance so that his dark locks swung past his ears.
“There are other ways we can handle this,” Olivia finally said. Not a threat, exactly, although within it, there was an air of, I could call the police on you if you want that.
And this led him to step to the side of the front door and heave a sigh. “Just for a second,” he grunted.
Olivia pointed to the ground and asked him to leave the spray can outside. She then slid her key through the front door and pushed it open. There, in the foyer, she watched as this troubled student stomped the snow off his boots on the front mat and glanced around at the cozy interior.
Olivia took his coat without speaking. He looked kind of like an injured animal as he stepped in after her and followed her into the kitchen. There, she put her kettle on the stovetop and prepared two cups of cocoa. As she stirred the liquid, Chelsea texted her that she had gone to a friend’s place and would be home late.
Throughout all this, Xavier didn’t say a single word. It was obvious he felt awkward. He shoved his hands into his pockets and blinked around the little kitchen and dining area until Olivia gestured for him to sit. She also removed a little sleeve of cookies from the cabinet and placed it on the table. Probably, at eighteen, Xavier had a lot more interest in things like booze and cigarettes, but she had to work within the realm of cookies and sweets. Eighteen was a tricky age. It was right there, smack-dab between adulthood and adolescence. She hoped this angst he had would one day be a distant memory.
Olivia gestured toward one of the chairs. “Sit down, Xavier.” She then placed his cocoa before him. The steam billowed up over his face. His hooded eyes were dark and she couldn’t quite read them.
For the first time, she acknowledged how much he looked like his father, whom she had only just met the other day.
Olivia sat across from him. In all her years of teaching, she’d never had a student inside of her house. Their worlds had collided. Yet how many hours had she spent right there, in that very chair, thinking and worrying and hoping huge dreams for her students? In a way, it made sense he was here.
“Xavier.” She decided to choose her words, delicately. “Why did you come here tonight? Why did you graffiti my door? Is it really because you wanted to get back at me for talking to your parents?”
Xavier’s eyes turned toward his cocoa. He looked at a loss for words. Olivia was reminded of herself in the wake of Tyler’s departure. What the heck am I supposed to do now? She supposed life was littered with those moments. Maybe this was Xavier’s first.
“You’ve come here. You’ve damaged my property. But I don’t plan to call the cops,” Olivia said finally. “I just need to know what’s going on. I talked to your parents because I’m worried, but they didn’t seem open to discussing it. I just...”
Olivia trailed off. Her eyebrows furrowed over her eyes.
Finally, Xavier spoke.
“Ms. Hesson.” He stuttered her name. Shame seemed written in every syllable. “Ms. Hesson, I never — I don’t —” He bit hard on his lower lip and then released it. “Ms. Hesson, my parents, are selfish human beings. They are egotistical and cruel. I can’t remember a single night over the past month when they didn’t tear into one another. If they aren’t fighting with one another, though, they’re fighting with me. Telling me that I’m no good. It’s fine if they do it to me, you know, but if they do it to my sister? That’s when I lose my cool.”
Olivia felt a blanket of sadness sweep over her and she wanted to pull him into a bear hug and tell him it was going to be okay but instead, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as he tried to explain his situation to her. She’d never heard a student divulge so much of himself before.
“I just want to get off this island. Forever, maybe,” Xavier continued. His eyes remained dark and ominous. “I never want to see them again, but I have nowhere else to go. My little crummy job at the grocery store doesn’t exactly make me enough money to move out on my own. And I know better than to drop out of high school four months before graduation. Plus, I can’t leave my sister. Whatever happens next, I need a high school diploma.”
Olivia nodded. “Yes, you do. You really do.”
She felt outside of herself. Here, before her, was a troubled young man, who trusted her enough to reveal these sinister things from his soul.
“Have you applied to any colleges?” she finally asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know if my grades are good enough. Sure, your class, I seem to do okay. But math? Science? That stuff isn’t my scene. To put it plainly, I’m not exactly going to Harvard.”
Olivia chuckled. “You don’t have to go to Harvard. Harvard is for privileged elites, anyway
.”
There was a comfortable silence, this time. Some of the tension had already fallen and in its place, they felt at ease. Olivia reached over and selected a cookie from the sleeve. Xavier followed her lead. As she chewed on the chocolate, doughy goodness, she considered his plight. Obviously, he looked at his adulthood with uncertainty and fear. How could she help him? She knew he had so much potential.
The only thing she knew to do was spend more time with him, get to know him.
“I have an idea,” she said finally.
Xavier arched an eyebrow. Again, she was reminded of Tyler Radcliffe at that young age. They had both held this arrogance and handsomeness, which seemed to go hand-in-hand.
“And I guess I should add that it’s not so much of an idea, as it is a demand,” Olivia continued, with a sneaky smile. “I won’t tell anyone about this little spray paint incident if you agree to my terms.”
Xavier sighed. “I guess I deserve that.”
“I’ve just come into possession of an old historic building just outside of town,” Olivia said. “We need a lot of help building it up to what it once was because we want to open it as a boutique hotel by the summertime. What do you say? You want to come help us with the restorations?”
Xavier’s eyes glowed with an excitement that she had never seen before. When he spoke, he was careful to keep the sarcasm intact.
“I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he asked.
“Nope. Not in the least,” Olivia said, laughing.
Chapter Eight
Olivia awoke the following Saturday, the first Saturday in February, to a barrage of texts from her brother’s wife, Maxine.
MAXINE: Okay. I made a huge pot of clam chowder.
MAXINE: I mean enough clam chowder to feed all of Edgartown and maybe some of Oak Bluffs.
MAXINE: I guess there really is never enough chowder, though.
MAXINE: Hope it’s okay we’re bringing the kids. Tessa and Troy both really want to help out.
Olivia heaved a sigh and rolled over in bed, just after she read the texts. Maxine tended to be an overly-anxious individual, the type of woman who liked to give you too much information, too quickly. Olivia lay spread-eagle in the center of the bed she had once shared with Tyler and huffed.
Today was a huge day in the history of the historic building. It meant a lot of planning, a lot of work, a lot of time. Anthony had a strategy, and she had a family who’d agreed to the hard labor. In just a matter of a few months, they would be done. It was wild to think about, especially given the current state of the place.
Finally, at just past seven-thirty, Chelsea rapped at the door. “Mom? You up? Aunt Maxine won’t stop texting me.”
Olivia laughed into her pillow as Chelsea opened the door. She stood, this little beauty in the doorway of her bedroom, and joined her mother’s laughter.
“What?” she demanded.
“I don’t know. Maxine has been texting me for hours. Does that woman ever sleep?” Olivia asked as she lifted herself up and rubbed her eyes.
“Obviously not,” Chelsea replied. “But everyone’s excited. Tessa just texted me a photo of herself in overalls, so I guess she’s treating the restoration as a kind of fashion show. Maybe I should do the same?”
“Definitely,” Olivia said. She dropped her feet to the hardwood floor and padded out toward the kitchen, where she brewed them a pot of coffee. Chelsea disappeared and then reappeared a few minutes later, her face completely done-up.
“I told you that I have a student meeting us out there today, right?” Olivia said as she poured them both cups of coffee.
Chelsea fingered her long hair for a second. “What?”
“Xavier. Xavier Collins. He’s a year younger than you. Do you remember him?”
Chelsea shrugged. “Maybe. What did he do to get involved in all this?”
Olivia hadn’t told Chelsea about the spray paint incident. In fact, she’d made a point to repaint the door the morning after it had happened, to push away all memory of it.
“He offered to help, and I said okay,” Olivia told her. “I can’t very well deny free labor. He’s a good kid and very smart.”
“Sounds like a nerd,” Chelsea scoffed.
“Don’t be rude, Chelsea,” Olivia retorted.
“Sorry. It’s just my factory setting,” Chelsea said.
A half-hour later, Olivia and Chelsea piled into Olivia’s car and snaked out toward the old historic building. Throughout the drive, Chelsea updated Olivia on the basic gossip at the diner. “The new waitress has a huge crush on the cook, but the cook hasn’t broken it to her that he’s had a girlfriend for five years, and she’s pregnant!”
“Oh my gosh,” Olivia chuckled. “But you have to tell her!”
Chelsea giggled. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get messed up in other people’s drama.”
“It’s like watching a car accident happen in slow motion. You have to,” Olivia told her.
“I’ll see. If I do, I’ll let you know.”
When they pulled up to the property, Olivia was surprised to see that Anthony had found a way to open the old iron gate. It was wide open, with enough space to allow vehicles to drive all the way to the front of the building. She parked directly beside a large truck, filled to the brim with building supplies. As she slipped out, Jared’s vehicle began to snake down the driveway, as well.
“There they are,” Chelsea said.
Behind Jared’s, another car appeared. Olivia’s heart drummed hard in her chest. This car? She’d seen it in the high school parking lot a handful of times. It was clunky and beat-up and on its last legs.
“Whose car is that?” Chelsea asked.
Olivia didn’t answer. The car creaked to a halt alongside them, and slowly, Xavier stepped from the driver’s seat and then turned to face them. He wore a thick winter coat, and his hair was disheveled. His eyes found Olivia’s as he nodded.
“Morning, Ms. Hesson,” he said.
“Hey Xavier,” Olivia greeted him with a smile. “Good to see you.”
Chelsea yanked her head around to glare at her mother. Obviously, she wanted answers and hadn’t exactly bought the idea that Xavier had just “offered to help out”, but she knew she wasn’t going to get them.
The fact that Xavier had done what he’d done, and the reasons why he’d done them, were things that Olivia would keep with her to her grave, especially now that he had shown up to prove himself.
Jared, Maxine, Tessa, and Troy jumped out of Jared’s truck and greeted everyone. Introductions were made between them and Xavier as Maxine swung a massive pot of clam chowder out of the back of the truck and huffed.
“This is heavy,” she said. “I don’t know if I can manage it.”
On cue, Anthony rushed around the side of the old mansion and brought his broad arms beneath the pot to support it. Maxine cackled with surprise and stepped back, beaming at the unfamiliar man.
“Thank you!” she cried. “You’re some kind of guardian angel, I guess.”
Anthony adjusted the chowder, stepped back, and then winked at Olivia. Olivia felt herself blush all over again. Had he actually done that?
“I know better than to waste this clam chowder,” he said.
Maxine giggled playfully. At this, Olivia’s stomach stirred with actual jealousy. How ridiculous she felt! Like a teenager!
Introductions were made between Anthony, Jared, Maxine, Tessa, Troy, and Xavier.
“So wonderful your family could help you out with this,” Anthony said to Olivia as he stepped back.
“This one here isn’t family,” Jared said as he rapped Xavier on the back.
Xavier looked like he wanted to swing a punch at Jared’s face. In a way, Olivia wouldn’t have blamed him.
“Not family? Just another straggler like me then, huh?” Anthony said. His laughter broke any strange tension between them.
“Guess so,” Xavier affirmed, shrugging his shoulders.
“Good to know I’m not the only odd one out,” Anthony said. “Now, let’s get to work, shall we? We have a hard day ahead of us if we’re ever going to earn this chowder.”
Once in the living area, tasks were divided up amongst the workers. Anthony knew the bones of the place, what needed to be done, and had already set a plan for the day ahead. Jared whistled, impressed, as Anthony handed him supplies to tackle one of the upstairs bedrooms.
“I guess we have our work cut out for us, huh?” he said.
“I’m just glad to have some helping hands out here,” Anthony said.
As the others filtered off to various rooms across the old mansion, Olivia found herself without a task. She waited, crossed her arms, and eyed Anthony as he marked several things off his chart. Her heart pounded much louder than she wanted it to. How foolish she felt! It was like when she’d been paired up with Tyler in Algebra class in tenth grade and had nearly swooned when their knees had touched beneath the desk.
“So what’s on that list?” Olivia said, finally. “Did you forget about me?”
Anthony turned and delivered one of his sterling smiles. “You thought I could possibly forget about you?”
What. The. Heck.
Olivia chuckled and tried to brush off the sentiment. “I just feel weird not to have a task.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I have something for us.”
Us? Us???
“The porch that overlooks the water has been a headache for me all these months,” he explained. “But the truth of it is, we need to clear out a lot of the bad wood to make way for the build-up I want to do in April or May. So that’s our task today, Olivia Hesson. It’s you and me versus all that shoddy wood.”
Olivia donned her winter coat again and marched out onto the porch behind Anthony. The wind ripped into her coat, and she shivered against the exterior wall of the building while Anthony showed her how best to remove the rusted nails and toss the wooden slats out onto a pile in the yard. Olivia focused as hard as she could on his words and then performed the actions just-so. She and Anthony fell into easy banter as they worked along the side of the house. Upstairs, through the rafters and the broken bits of the house, they heard Chelsea and Maxine and Tessa laughing.
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