I’m just about to drift off, dreaming of doing a couple of the subs from the club in a threesome, and I hear a shriek, loud and long. I almost fall trying to get out of bed, and I run down the hall and throw open the bedroom door.
Olivia is standing on the bed, sitting on the top edge of the headboard, hands drawn up under her chin and screaming bloody murder. When I reach for her, she yells out, “Don’t touch me! I don’t want to do that with you! Please don’t hurt me! Please? Please?” I touch her, and she starts fighting my hands away, screaming and banging against the wall behind the head of the bed.
“Olivia! OLIVIA! Wake up, honey! It’s me – it’s Dave! Wake up, baby! It’s okay, really. It’s just a bad dream.”
It’s like she freezes, just goes motionless, and then she blinks a couple of times. Her eyelids flutter oddly, and then she shakes her head a couple of times and moans out, “Dave?”
“Yes, baby. I’m right here. You had a nightmare, but you’re okay. Come on, let me help you get back into the bed. Come on. It’s okay.”
She’s shaking like a leaf, trembling from head to toe, and she almost can’t make her legs work well enough to drop onto the bed. Sitting in the bed, she whispers, “They were trying to get me. They were trying to make me do things I didn’t want to do with them. Please, Dave, please, don’t let them get me.”
“They can’t get you, honey. You’re here and you’re safe. Now go back to sleep.” I run a hand across her forehead and then lean down to kiss it. “I’ll see you in the morning. Go back to sleep.” In seconds, she’s calmed and rolled over.
But I’ve no more than gotten the covers back up over me when I hear a soft knocking. “Yeah?” The door opens slightly and she slithers in through the crack. “You okay, honey?”
“Dave?”
I know as sure as I’m lying here what’s coming. “Yeah, hon?”
“Dave, can I sleep with you? I’m scared.”
Yup – there it is. Oh, god. What do I do now? My mind whirs. If I let her into my bed, I don’t know if I can control myself. Wait – something’s wrong with her and she’s in pain. I can use that to my advantage, tell myself that nothing can happen because it could hurt her. Yeah. That’s it. It’ll be okay. “Okay, baby. Get on in here.” I lift the covers so she can slide in and brace myself for all the things I’m going to feel.
Good thing, too. It hits me all at once, and it takes everything I’ve got to be able to just let her scoot up against me without touching her in a way I don’t want to. Well, okay – that’s a lie. I want to. I just don’t need to. I shouldn’t. And I’ve got to remember that.
But she slides right up against me with her back to me, and then into me so we’re spooning. I can’t help it; my arms instinctively go around her and I pull her close. Her hair smells like the lavender shampoo Trish bought for her, and I can smell the peppermint of her toothpaste on her breath. Why did I let her into my bed? How can I keep her out of my heart? I know the answer to the first question. But the second one? I have no clue.
After a few minutes, I feel her relax against me and she lets out a deep sigh. Trust is something I don’t take lightly, and she trusts me. I can’t let her down. The sleep I fall into is troubled, and I know the next day won’t be any easier for me. She’s gotten under my skin.
Chapter Four
The sun streams in through the crack between the curtains and lights up the room enough that I know it’s morning. Olivia’s not in bed, and the sound of banging pots and pans echoes through the house. But before I can get up and see what’s going on, the door opens and she marches in, a plastic tray in her hands. On it is two pieces of toast, two eggs, and two pieces of bacon. “I had this in the fridge?”
“Yes, you did. And I made it for you, seeing as how I messed up yesterday.”
“You didn’t mess up yesterday. We just let it get cold, that’s all.” It’s not a big breakfast, but it’s more than I’m accustomed to. No one’s fixed me breakfast in years, and now two days in a row? I could get used to this. Stop it, Adams!, I tell myself. No. That can’t happen. “So what does your day look like?”
“Trish called me. She got me an appointment, and she’s coming to pick me up at ten.”
My head snaps around to the alarm clock. Seven forty-one. “Oh my god. It’s not even eight o’clock yet.”
“So you’re up early!”
“I run a club. I’m used to sleeping late because I’m up late.”
Instant sorrow hits me as her face turns red and she stares at her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first. My fault. I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, I should probably be getting up earlier anyway. But yes, you need to get ready for your day. Did you fix yourself some breakfast?”
She shakes her head. “No. There wasn’t enough for both of us.”
I pat the spot beside me in the bed. “Get in here.”
“No, I made it for . . .”
“I said get in here. No arguing. I mean it. You need to eat. Get up here and sit down right now.” When she finally gets cuddled up against me, I pick up one of the pieces of bacon. “Open your mouth.”
“But Dave . . .”
“I said open it.” I sit stock still and glare at her until she finally opens her mouth, and then I stick the bacon in until she bites off a piece. Then I take a bite off of it and chew. That makes her laugh, and she opens her mouth again like a baby bird. I give her another bite, then I take another. Three rounds and it’s gone.
We eat an egg the same way, alternating with bites of toast, until it’s gone, then the other piece of bacon followed by the other egg and toast slice. When I take the last bite of bacon, I smile at her. “Thanks. That was very good.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you didn’t mind me cooking it.”
“Mind? Frankly, I didn’t even know it was in there. I don’t remember buying it.”
“Well, it’s gone now and you’re going to need some food. The refrigerator and cabinets are pretty much empty. You should go to the store.”
“You should go to the store. Find things you know how to fix. Wait: Do you even like to cook?”
“I love to cook! I used to cook all the time. But then, well, I couldn’t cook anymore. One time some of the guys stole some stuff from a grocery. They didn’t even know what to do with it. I asked them to start a fire and I took all the stuff they’d stolen and made a big meal. It was really good. They were so surprised! And then one of them got knifed by a crazy guy and died, so I never saw them again.”
Good god. She just said that like it was an everyday occurrence. That’s frightening to me. “So how often did that happen? I mean, something like a knifing?”
“Oh, just about every other day. A knifing, fighting over a blanket or something. Or a car would pull up and people would start getting out and beating the homeless people closest to them, sometimes with baseball bats. It was awful. It was something all the time. I was glad when I got skinny. Made it easier to hide, you know? To kind of slip into the shadows so they couldn’t see me. So I’d be invisible.”
What kind of hell is that to live in? No wonder she thanked me over and over. She lived in a nightmare. Then I remember the nightmare from the night before. “Do you remember your nightmare last night?”
I see her body tremble. “Yeah. It was horrible. They were all coming toward me and they had their pants unzipped and they were telling me all the things they were going to do to me. It was terrible. I was so afraid.”
Without thinking, I put an arm around her and draw her up against me, and she rests her head on my shoulders. She’s so precious. A little soft kiss gets planted on her forehead, and then she looks up at me so innocently when she asks, “Dave? Do you think you could ever love me?”
“Olivia, I don’t think . . .”
“Please. Don’t talk like that. You’re so wonderful. I want to stay here with you forever.”
“I’m not wonderful.” Now my cheeks are scalding. “I own a clu
b where people walk around naked. I enjoy whipping subs until they scream. I’ll have sex with pretty much any woman who approaches me in the club. I’m a long, long way from wonderful. I’m actually a pretty horrible guy. My world is pretty dark.”
“I want to be part of your world. Please, Dave? Please let me be part of your world?” And she does it again.
She kisses me. This girl has got to stop this. I’ve got to stop this. I’m trying to stop it, but I can’t, and the kiss just grows and expands. Next thing I know, she’s flat on the bed and I’m on top of her, my hands in her hair, kissing her, pressing her into the mattress. Her fingertips skate up and down the surface of my shirt, and then I feel them slip underneath it. What was throbbing is now rock hard, and it’s difficult to breathe or sit still. God help me, I’m going down and she’s taking me. I’m trying to stop kissing her, and I can’t. This is too much, it’s just too much.
“Olivia.” She kisses me again. “Olivia, Trish will be here in a bit,” I whisper into her neck. “You have to be ready to go.”
“Come with me?”
“No, sweetie. No. You go with Trish.” I force myself up onto my hands and look down at her. Damn, I want to bury my dick in her and pump away, but that’s not going to happen. I involuntarily let out a groan as I fall to my back on the bed beside her, and she rolls to rest her cheek on my shoulder.
“Dave?”
“Yes.”
“Promise me that at some time in the near future, you’ll stop being afraid and let me in.”
I just stare up at the ceiling – I can’t look at her. “Olivia, I can’t let you in like that. Do you realize how far apart our ages are? It’s not going to happen, sweetheart. I should be treating you like a daughter.”
I feel the disconnect, its abruptness palpable. She rises, sits on the edge of the bed for a few seconds with her back to me, then mutters, “I’m a grown woman.” With that, she stands and drags out of my bedroom. Five minutes later I hear the shower start. I’m in the clear for the time being. It’ll be best if I just hide out and wait until she’s gone before I come out to shower.
I must’ve dozed off because I wake to voices, and I recognize one of them as Trish’s. I get up from the bed and stumble up the hallway. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” Trish calls out in her effervescent voice.
“Hey, doll. You doing okay?”
“Great! I’m taking your girl here to the doctor.”
There’s an overwhelming urge in my throat to say, She’s not my girl, but I don’t. I just say, “Well, you guys be careful. See you when you get back.”
“I think we may go for some lunch afterward.” She glances at Olivia, who gives her a nod and a smile. “Want to come too?”
“Nope. You girls go and do girl things. You know, those things guys don’t like to do,” I chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah. Party pooper.”
“No, that’s Sheila,” I laugh.
“Yeah. Well, not so much anymore!” Trish is laughing right along with me. Olivia’s face is a big question mark when Trish says, “Oh, long story, honey. I’ll tell you in the car.” She looks at her watch, and I notice Olivia looking at her bare arm too. “We’d better get moving. Bye,” Trish tells me with a kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, bye.” Olivia tries to do the same, but instead, she kisses me right on the mouth. Out of my peripheral vision I can see Trish’s brows shoot up. Not good. I’m guessing I’m going to get grilled about this.
I get showered and dressed, and then a crazy idea strikes me. It’s something I shouldn’t do, but I decide to do it anyway. Why, I don’t know. But I get into the car and head for the mall. It shouldn’t take me long, and boy, won’t she be surprised?
The trash can is almost filled with all the junk I’ve taken out of the pantry. Olivia was talking about buying food, so I need to get the past-dated stuff out. There’s an awful lot of it, and it’s weird stuff, like canned cabbage and strawberry pie filling – and I don’t bake. Very strange. By the time they walk in, I’ve pretty much gotten it cleaned out and filled up the dumpster outside to boot.
“Hey! We’re back!” Trish strides in and sits down on the sofa. Olivia stands there like she doesn’t quite know what to do or say.
“Hi!” I expect a smile, but Olivia doesn’t look like a smile. She looks kind of bewildered. “Everything go okay?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Olivia will tell you about it when I’m gone. Right, sweetie?”
She stares at me and shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”
Trish stands again. “Well, I guess I’d better go. I have to pick up some cookies for a party at the school and then get over there. It’s Hailee’s teacher’s birthday.” She pats Olivia on the shoulder. “Now you’ve got those antibiotics to take, so don’t forget. And she told you what to do for the other thing, right?” Olivia nods. “Let me know when they schedule it and I’ll come and take you, no problem, okay?”
“Sure.” There’s something hollow in her eyes that I can’t translate, and it’s scaring me a little.
“See you two later. Love you, Dave,” she says as she gives me a kiss on the cheek. I squeeze her tight.
“Tell Clint and the girls I said hello, please.”
“Will do. Bye.” With that, the door closes and I’m alone with Olivia, whose face still looks like something horrible has bitten her.
After a few seconds, I ask her, “Want something to drink?”
She shakes her head. “No. I had something at lunch.”
“Okay then. Want to sit down and talk? Trish said you’d fill me in.” Her legs seem a little wobbly as she crosses to the sofa. She sits down in a very prim and proper fashion with her hands folded in her lap, and I’m starting to feel very scared. “Olivia, what’s going on?”
About that time, my text messaging goes off. I glance at my phone to see a notification from Trish. It’s short and sweet.
Be extra gentle with her. Her heart is broken.
What the hell? The gynecologist broke her heart? This doesn’t make any sense at all. “Olivia, you need to tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me. What are they scheduling? I don’t understand.” A single tear rolls down her cheek, but I try to temper my feelings with the way Trish was behaving and talking, like it was an everyday occurrence and nothing to worry about. “Please, baby?”
“I, I, oh, noooo.” She leans down with her forehead on her knees and I feel slightly dizzy. “I have to have one of those D&C things.”
“Oh! Those aren’t that bad. What did they find?” When she doesn’t answer, I move to sit beside her and stroke her hair. “Baby, what did they find? What’s causing the problem?”
“I was pregnant.”
I feel like somebody hit me in the gut. “You were pregnant?” She nods and keeps crying. “I don’t understand.”
“I had a miscarriage and didn’t know it. And there’s stuff still in there, and an infection.” Her crying quiets just a little, and she adds, “They said it was probably when I got hit in the stomach by that one cop.”
“Hit in the stomach?”
“Yeah. He wanted me to get down on my knees and, well, you know, and when I wouldn’t, he started punching me in the stomach until I just fell to my knees. And then he made me do it. But they said that’s probably when I had the miscarriage.”
Oh my god. No wonder Trish said Olivia’s heart was broken. Before I can pull her to me and hold her tight, she cries out, “Oh, god, why did all of that stuff happen to me? Why did they treat me that way? What did I ever do that was so awful that people would hate me so much?”
With my arms finally around her, she just dissolves, and all the brokenness and hurt from the last three years, all the bitterness, swirls around her and threatens to drown her. I hold onto her as tightly as I can and let her cry on my chest. Finally, I ask her, “Olivia, if you were still pregnant and we hadn’t found you, what would you have done?”
Through her sniffles she whispers, “I don’t know.”
“So se
e? Things happen the way they’re supposed to happen. It’s okay.”
“But if I were, just think: I’m here. You would’ve been able to help me. And I would have a baby, a child, to love and take care of.”
“Olivia, you still don’t have a home. How in the world do you think you’d be able to take care of a baby?”
“You’d help me.”
“Sweetie, I’m sixty-five. I can’t raise a child.”
The look in her eyes is foreign to me as she says, “I think I’m going to bed. I’m really tired.” With that, she just rises and leaves the room.
I’m still sitting there shell-shocked. My god. How much should one person be expected to take? I manage to get ready for bed and get comfortable when, once again, there’s a knock on my door. “Come on in.” Before she can speak, I chuckle. “Yes. Get in here.” She slides in just like the night before.
“Dave?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Thanks for the pajamas. Where did they come from?”
I wondered when she’d ask about them. “I got them at the mall this afternoon.”
“How did you know I like butterflies?”
I just smile to myself. “I didn’t. I just thought about how cute they’d be on you. And tomorrow morning, be sure to look in your dresser drawer. I got you a watch.”
She sighs against me. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met. Ever.”
My arms tighten around her and I feel whole with her there, her body pressed against mine. “I don’t know about that, but what I do know is that you’ll never, never have to live in fear again, not as long as I have breath.”
In a whisper that sounds more like a lullaby, she murmurs, “I believe you.” And in ten minutes, we’re sound asleep.
I get up the next morning to find homemade Danish and fresh, hot coffee. Olivia is writing something on a piece of note paper from my desk by the front door. “What’s up, pretty thing?”
“Writing down this appointment. I used your phone to call them and I used your number as a call-back. I hope that was all right.” When I smile and nod, she adds, “They’re going to do the procedure next Wednesday at seven in the morning. I’ve got to call Trish and tell her.”
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