The Winter Before

by Karen Crompton

  “I like him,” she said softly, the words almost lost in the clinking of glasses and rowdy patrons in the booths that surrounded them. “We’ve been, I dunno… seeing each other.”

  Olivia looked up from where she was drawing patterns with her finger in the condensation on the table.

  “I really like him. And the mountain man has a name, thank you very much. Isaac’s complicated and he’s got… well, a few issues, but don’t we all? I really like him, and he makes me happy. I’m just not sure he feels the same way about me.”

  “What makes you say that?” Tate frowned, sweeping her hair from her eyes. “How could he not feel the same way about you? He’d be lucky to have you. You’re adorable!”

  “I am, aren’t I?” Olivia nodded, the alcohol going to her head. She laughed and took another sip. “Look, things will work out. I just have to tread carefully. I think I spooked him a little yesterday.”

  “Why, what happened?”

  “I called him my boyfriend.”

  Tate looked across at Connor, then back at Olivia with a smile in her eyes. She bounced a little on the padded seat. “Maybe we could double date sometime? The four of us? Like, go out for dinner or something?”

  Connor nodded, chugging back his beer, but Olivia couldn’t help but laugh. “Har, har. Yeah right. I just said he had issues. And just like that, said issues float straight to the surface. He’d hate that.”

  Connor signaled to the waitress for another round of drinks and then shoved a handful of pretzels in his mouth, crunching loudly as he spoke. “Admittedly, I haven’t had much to do with the guy over the past ten years, but he’s right in the head, isn’t he?”

  Olivia flicked a pretzel crumb off the table and frowned. Her stomach clenched to the point of cramping, an instinct she’d developed every time she felt the need to jump to Isaac’s defense.

  “Yes. Of course, he is. And don’t speak like that about him ever again. He just doesn’t like crowds, or people… or well, much of anything to be honest.”

  Tate put her hand on top of Olivia’s, squeezing lightly. “Things will work out. I can feel it in my waters. Baby steps, Livvy. Baby steps.”

  Connor looked slightly dubious, but he put a small smile on his face and held up his beer. “To Olivia being happy. To Tate’s all-knowing waters. To baby steps. And to one day hanging out with the mysterious mountain man himself.”

  And they all cheered to that.

  “My stomach hurts,” Connor groaned loudly.

  Olivia and Tate were thoroughly enjoying themselves at Connor’s expense, and they burst out laughing when he stopped walking for a moment, rushed toward the curb like he was about to lose the entire bucket of caramel popcorn and the half-dozen sugar donuts he’d just shoved down his throat not twenty minutes earlier.

  Mr. and Mrs. Parker had worked the Sweetie Pies stall over by the gazebo and they had done a roaring trade, completely selling out of cookies, donuts, éclairs, and cream buns. Mr. Parker had a smile on his face like a split watermelon as he cashed up, thoroughly pleased with their takings for the night, and Mrs. Parker was glad to finish up earlier than expected.

  The entire family had come together and she was looking forward to spending some real quality time with her daughters, especially Olivia, who she hadn’t seen much of over the last few weeks. She was looking forward to finding out what was going on in her baby girl’s life.

  Mr. Parker spread out an enormous blanket on the hay. It was cold, and it was damp, but there was nothing quite like sitting back and staring up at the sky, and Woodlake always put on a pretty decent fireworks display.

  An hour passed and Olivia felt emotional as she watched the colors crackle and explode against a backdrop of darkness. She wasn’t sure why. She always got emotional watching fireworks. There was just something about the build-up, the final manic swell that went on and on, until it was over again, and then all that remained was a plume of smoke that almost looked as lost and as disoriented as she felt watching it float away.

  Mrs. Parker wrapped her arm around Olivia’s shoulder and left the packing up of blankets and lawn chairs for her husband. They walked toward the stage and found a seat near the dance floor, and Olivia instantly felt better being in her mother’s arms.

  There was something to be said for a mother’s hug, an elixir for the broken, a soothing remedy, and Olivia sure had missed it lately.

  “Is everything alright, Livvy-Lou?” her mother asked quietly as they strolled across the town square.

  “I hope so, Mom,” replied Olivia. “I really hope so.”

  Isaac logged onto his laptop. He stared at the screen while he waited for the search engine to load.

  He’d been feeling irritable, edgy, and anxious for hours now. He was certain it was the same way a wild animal might feel, trapped inside a cage with no foreseeable way out. But the only cage surrounding him in that moment was his own front door and the four walls of his living room.

  Pushing the unwanted feelings away, he typed in what he was looking for, and then pressed enter.

  The map of Louisiana was spread out on the dining table beside him and he’d studied it in great detail for hours on end, circling things in thick red pen, things that he thought might have been of interest, things that might have helped him and Olivia work out whatever it was Mrs. Ackerman was trying to tell them.

  Olivia.

  Her name buzzed around inside his head, the sound as terrifying as it was exhilarating. But Olivia wasn’t there with him. She was at the festival.

  And he wasn’t.

  Perhaps he should have been. But he wasn’t, and there was nothing he could do about it now anyway.

  Isaac shrugged slightly, shaking away the gnawing feeling that he was missing something. It wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he might as well just concentrate on the things he could change. His fingers resumed their clicking on the keyboard and up came a list of all the things Louisiana was famous for.

  Isaac took a quick sip of his soda, swallowed, and then leaned back in the chair as he started scrolling. He wasn’t really sure what he was looking for. He was hoping something might jump out at him. But so far he’d found nothing. He clicked on the first link.

  Louisiana was named after King Louis XIV.

  Interesting, he thought to himself. But he doubted it held any great significance to their search. Not unless Mrs. Ackerman was a royalist and was hoping Olivia might take up the cause. Highly unlikely though.

  Louisiana has the tallest state capitol building in the United States.

  Isaac scratched his chin, his stubbly beard prickly against his fingertips. Nah, nothing there.

  Ellen DeGeneres was born in Louisiana.

  Well, there you go. You learn something new every day.

  In 2007, Louisiana became the last state to ban cockfighting.

  What?

  The list went on and on, and Isaac’s vision blurred from staring at the computer screen for so long. He rubbed his eyes, and marked things off. He opened a second can of soda, made himself a sandwich and then went back to the map, slumped in his seat, pouring over it a while longer while he waited for Olivia to come home to him.

  Waited for Olivia to come home to him.

  The thought sizzled around the edges of his mind. That would always be the way of things. He would always be home. And he would always be waiting for her to come to him. But what if, one day, she didn’t come home to him? What would he do then?

  The thought terrified him.

  He’d been on his own once before, and he’d been alright. He was used to it being that way, he’d survived the loneliness, embraced it even. But could he survive the loss of Olivia? Could he survive if she left him? Could he live without her?

  Isaac knew sadness, but the thought of Olivia leaving him; not wanting him anymore, not wanting him in the same way he wanted her, felt like his entire universe would come crashing down around him. He couldn’t even take her out to a festival in their own town. Sh
e’d wanted him to take her. She’d wanted that. But he’d denied her such a simple request.

  What other things would he be unable to give her in the future? She deserved so much more than him, so much better. He knew that, but the thought of Olivia figuring that out too was soul-crushing. He never wanted to be alone again, but how did he change things?

  Endeavoring to make sense of his feelings felt futile at that point, so Isaac took a bite of his sandwich and continued scanning the map.

  Twenty minutes later, he was still irritable, even more edgy, fidgety, and no closer to working things out.

  The living room was cold. The timber floorboards were hard and biting beneath his bare feet, and Isaac was just about to log out of his laptop and head off to bed, when something suddenly caught his eye.

  His head snapped back toward the screen and he stared at the Wikipedia link at the very bottom of the page.

  A distant coyote howled into the darkness of the night, most likely disturbed by the goings-on in town, and Isaac startled at the sharp, unexpected intrusion, already unsettled by what he was looking at.

  He sat back in the chair, exhaling as his fingers worked across his mouth, his mind racing. For a minute he just stared at the words. And then slowly he sat forward again and clicked the link, making a whole new page appear on the screen.

  The 6th Marine Corps Recruiting Station at Baton Rouge had three reviews, and there were photos of buildings, and green grass, and men in navy pants with red stripes proudly displaying medals. Isaac zoomed in on the faces of those men. They were young, enthusiastic, impeccably dressed, and a barrage of thoughts chased one another around inside his head like thunder playing tip with the clouds.

  Louisiana had a marine base. A training base that had been established many years ago and Isaac couldn’t help but think back on the drunken conversation he’d had with his grandfather, on a night when walls came down and whiskey levels crept up.

  His grandfather’s words came back to him, the way he’d heard them that night, an edge to his voice he only barely controlled.

  “I’ll kill the bastard that did this to my baby girl. Goddamn marine.”

  “No,” Isaac whispered the word on a short breath that spurt from his body.

  His muscles tensed, but he cut short the beginnings of his wandering thoughts. He sat back in the seat again, running his fingers through his hair, and stared up at the ceiling until his eyes ached and his neck was stiff.

  It was almost ten o’clock, and there wasn’t much more he could do. There was no one to ring for more information. There was no one to answer an email. He could wait until morning, of course. But Isaac didn’t want to wait until morning.

  What he wanted… was to see Olivia.

  She was the one person he knew would understand how much of a breakthrough this could be.

  So, he did the very last thing he ever expected himself to do. He logged out of his computer for real this time, shrugged on his coat and boots and headed outside, letting the thick timber door close behind him.

  Olivia’s beautiful eyes, and his grandfather’s bitter words flashed in his mind once again before he pushed them away, jogged to the barn, fired up the truck and without too much thought of what he was about to do, he put the engine into gear and headed straight toward town.

  “No. Please, Dad,” said Olivia half-heartedly as she was pulled to her feet. “My belly’s so full I just want to sit here for a while and let it settle.”

  “Oh, come on… dance with your old man.” Mr. Parker smiled and held out his hand. “One damn song, that’s all I’m asking.”

  Mrs. Parker giggled, happily watching on from her seat, wrapped up as she was in a warm blanket with absolutely no intention of moving. “Now there’s an offer you can’t refuse.”

  Olivia glanced toward the dance floor. She wasn’t much of a dancer. And she felt disoriented, and dizzy from being pulled to her feet so quickly, and maybe also from the beers she’d had earlier.

  But then a country song started where a sappy one left off and she smiled as she took her father’s hand, nodding in defeat as he led her out onto the cramped dance floor.

  Within minutes they were laughing and singing along with everyone else, the dance floor packed to capacity now. There was nothing like a good honky-tonk country and western song to get a crowd in the mood.

  It felt magical out there beneath the strings of fairy lights, drowning in the smell of fresh hay and potted conifers that had been placed around the square and for a few moments Olivia let her worries slide away with the ice, and she let herself enjoy the moment for what it was.

  Just a girl dancing with her dad, and she thought back to when she was little and used to dance around the living room with him, standing on her father’s house-slippers so she wouldn’t lose time.

  The song changed to another toe-tapper and Olivia kept dancing, like she didn’t have a care in the world. Mr. Parker spun her around, stretching out as she flung away, before he pulled her in again just as quickly. He was a natural. He was easy to follow, and Olivia smiled, enjoying seeing her father so happy and carefree for once.

  And Olivia was enjoying herself too.

  She let her head fall back to look up at the stars. Her skin felt the frigid air sting her cheeks, but it was a welcome relief to the clamminess of her neck where her hair swayed and swirled around her shoulders.

  Isaac liked her hair down, so she’d worn it out.

  Isaac.

  Olivia’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of her rough and tumble, wild cave dweller back at home all by himself.

  She missed him.

  Yes, she was having a wonderful time, a much-needed break from everything she’d been through in the past few weeks.

  But God, did she miss him.

  The thought of him sitting on his front porch waiting for her to come home to him made her knees weak. She swayed a little on her feet, which may have had less to do with Isaac and more to do with the alcohol in her system, but she suddenly felt the need to sit down again before she fell down and made a complete fool of herself in front of everyone.

  “I might sit this one out,” she said. “I need some water. Is that okay, Dad?”

  “Of course it is, sweetheart. I was going to check on your mother soon anyway.”

  Mr. Parker kissed his daughter on the forehead and then headed back to where his wife was seated.

  Olivia turned toward the concession stand, but then stilled after a few steps when she felt a firm hand on her arm.

  She startled.

  Her breath caught and she turned slowly. Though, she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was.

  She knew. Instinctively, she knew.

  Kyle slid his fingers down Olivia’s arms and wrapped his hand around her wrist. He jerked her forward, hard toward his body, making her bounce a little against his chest. The bitter stench of stale cigarettes and something else filled her lungs and she leaned back, mortified that Kyle Mason still thought he had some kind of hold on her.

  “Let me go,” she seethed.

  Her voice was as cold as the air, her eyes so full of determined conviction that they burned from glaring so hard at the one man who could make her sick to the stomach on sight.

  “I swear to Christ, Kyle. Let me go or I will scream this place down.”

  “You think you’re clever. Don’t you?” The words were flat, accusing almost, and he spoke closely into Olivia’s ear as if he didn’t believe his words at all.

  “What?”

  “The box.”

  That’s all Kyle said, but his wandering hands said much, much more. He scratched her cheek with his stubble, his breath hot and heavy against her ear as he leaned in even closer and gripped Olivia’s waist, pressing himself against her in time with the song.

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “I want my money back.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  Kyle only held on tighter and his voice to
ok on a sinister tone as he rocked himself into her body. “I’m talking about the pile of gravel you put in that box—gravel that looks remarkably similar to the gravel in your driveway.”

  He pinched the skin at Olivia’s waist, making her buckle slightly from the biting pain.

  To anyone else on the dance floor it might have looked like she was falling into the arms of a man she was getting pretty cozy with, but the truth of it was something else altogether.

  “I’m not an idiot, Parker. I want my money back. You tried to swindle me out of three hundred and fifty bucks!”

  “Consider it damages for pain and suffering.”

  Olivia tried to squirm out of Kyle’s arms. But Kyle didn’t budge and that’s when Olivia got really pissed. She’d been trapped by him once before, and she wasn’t about to let history repeat itself.

  So, she threw herself forward and found his chin with the top of her head.

  Kyle swore and gripped Olivia’s arm so tightly that she could already feel a bruise forming. “You think you can make a fool out of me, I’ll show you what pain and suffering really looks like. I got away with it once; I’ll get away with it again. Though this time I’ll go through with what I started and you won’t be able to walk straight for a week once I’m done with you.”

  He swung Olivia around a couple of times, his smile manic, and then he dipped her down, so that her leg lifted around his hip for balance, her hair sweeping the makeshift floor beneath them.

  Olivia’s mind recognized the way they must have looked, like the beautiful couple in that black-and-white movie she’d watched with Isaac at the Glenrock Theatre. But she didn’t feel particularly beautiful. And Kyle definitely wasn’t a timeless classic. He was a classic asshole. That was all.