Chapter 38
Olivia
Driving back to Fisher Creek this weekend feels wrong.
There is no light, no excitement…only heartbreak, anger, and fear of running into Noah in town.
He hasn’t even tried to message or call me since he showed up at my work to apologzie.
And I understand I told him I never wanted to see or talk to him again but I thought he’d fight for us this time around.
I thought that because he never stopped loving me, he’d never actually let me go. I guess I was wrong.
It's ungodly warm for a May day in Wisconsin and I think the air conditioning in my car is finally starting to give up on me.
Thankfully, I just pulled off the interstate and only have another hour to cruise down the back roads, so I can roll the windows down.
I know my hate for the windows being down on the interstate is irrational and ridiculous, but I absolutely despise the noise the windows make.
It's like this never-ending rattle that gets ingrained into my brain and never leaves.
I have my road trip playlist on my aux cord when “Backroad Song by Granger Smith comes on, and I’m instantly overwhelmed with emotion.
I feel my eyes welling up with salty water and I have to quickly blink them away.
This song sends me back to high school when Noah and I would cruise around in his car singing and dancing to whatever country song we were obsessed with that week.
I think this song obsession lasted a good three weeks before we changed it.
It’s such a heartwarming, happy memory but it also makes me realize how much I really miss Noah.
For the last week I’ve told myself that I'm not allowed to miss him, this was a sign from the universe that we really were not meant to be. I haven’t allowed myself to truly process and feel the loss, sadness, and emotion of everything that happened.
I have drowned myself in my training even signing up for a marathon in the fall and work, picking up extra hours at the office.
Mason and Savannah cornered me in the kitchen this morning to tell me they’re worried about me and that I'm going to burn out hard and fast if I keep going at the pace I am. My response was that I can’t burn out if I don’t stopped moving, knowing full well how utterly false that is and that they’re right.
But truthfully, I'm afraid to stop. I'm afraid that if I stop working or running I will fall back into that deep slump I was in when this happened the first time.
Pulling back into the driveway at my parents’ house, it appears that everyone is home.
Cole comes out of the house, stops at his truck, and grabs something out of the front seat as I'm getting out of my car about to greet him before going inside.
I throw my weekender bag over my shoulder and stand as he walks up to me, but instead of walking up to me, he walks directly past me and into the barn without saying a word.
My jaw hits the ground and I throw my arms up as I turn and watch him go into the barn, before yelling “Hello to you too!”
I have to do a double take to make sure I have the right twin.
Cole never ignores me and always is super excited to see me.
Carter, on the other hand, sometimes I don’t think he cares whether or not I ever come home to visit.
But sure enough, the twin who just walked right past me without saying a word, is my five-ten, short, chestnut haired, espresso eyed, firefighter brother.
When I get in the house I see a note on the table from Penelope saying everyone went to Fishy’s for lunch and to meet them there once I’m settled.
I love that my family chooses to write handwritten notes instead of sending texts like any other normal person.
So I throw my stuff on the stairwell and head back out to the car.
I can hear music coming from the shop side of the barn and decide that if Cole wanted to go to Fishy’s he would have gone when everyone else left.
The drive to the bar is entirely different when there’s no snow on the ground and, the leaves are full and everything is green.
What would normally be a terrifying drive is now a beautiful spring drive, even if the sun isn’t bright.
It's a gloomy day but the weather is warm enough that I can have the window partially down to enjoy some fresh air.
Or I'm just heated from being mad at my brother for ignoring me.
I will absolutely ask my sister what the fuck his problem is, and if he has copped an attitude all day.
The lake looks extra gloomy when I arrive as if it's raining over the lake but nowhere else. Bec and a few of her friends who I don’t recognize are coming out of the bar laughing with one another as I pull up and get out of my car.
“Hey Bec,” I call out. She looks over my direction and her expression changes from a laugh to glare with daggers digging deep gouges into my skin. Okay. Yikes. Apparently everyone is mad at me today.
“Hi Olivia” she replies, stone cold and straight faced.
“How have you been?” I ask, trying to be polite but a little shocked. I know Noah and I aren’t speaking but that has never hindered my relationship with Bec in the past.
“I’ve been better and would be even better if I wasn’t talking to you.”
Well, fuck. Okay. How have I pissed everyone in this town off in the last two weeks? Bec and her friends push past us and continue walking toward their car.
“Oh, and Olivia, I always knew you were selfish, but I never expected you to be downright cruel,” she calls from the car before slamming the door and peeling out of the gravel lot, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and sending tiny pebbles all over the place.
I don’t even think I’ve picked my jaw up from the ground in regard to her last comment before I hear the chime of the door at Fishy’s and the shuffling of small feet before I have four little hands wrapping around my legs and two bigger hands on my shoulders.
“You saw that entire thing?” I ask, my voice shaking with confusion, anger and even some sadness. Penelope nods, yes and gives me a big side hug before ushering me into the bar.
“Liv, you didn’t hear, did you?” she asks as we sit down at the table with my parents and the boys.
I just sit there in silence, looking at them all confused, while they look at me like someone freaking died. Good lord, I know I ended things with Noah, but no one is dead so why is everyone acting so weird?
Mom takes me hands in hers on the table and says, “Olivia, did you talk to Noah about why he didn’t make it to Milwaukee?”
I just shake my head, panic starting to race through my entire body. What the fuck happened in the last week?
“Just me what happened. Stop beating around the bush and get to it. You all know I don’t handle the unknown well,” I snap. “Sorry,” I add at the end, trying to take the harshness out of my tone.
Carter comes walking around the corner from where the bathrooms are, and before he even sit down, he says, “Bec was cleaning out the extra room in their house for renovations and she found a box in the closet, with their fathers name on it. She opened it and found numerous letters to him from his lovers.”
I pull my hands away from my mother’s, and look at Carter, trying to process that I”ve heard him correctly. Lovers? Like, more than one? Their father was cheating before he died? Oh my god, did his mother know? Is she okay?
I begin to spiral when Carter continues. “No, their mother didn’t know. And, Liv, I'm on Team Noah for this one. I'm mad at you but you need to know the truth, and clearly everyone else here is going to continue to baby you like the child that you are.”
I shudder at the bite behind his statement. I'm literally the baby of the family and they always said I got special treatment and, was able to get away with murder and all of the stereotypical stuff, but I always thought that’s just what people say. Until today.
My family has always sugar-coated major events in the past when telling me, assumingly to protect my big emotions. Penelope moving, explaining death, when people or animals pass away. And fine, that made sense, when I was ten, but I'm a whole, twenty-eight-year-old adult.
“Thank you, Carter,” I respond trying to hide some of my anger.
“Don’t. I have zero plans on spending time with you until you figure your shit out,” he retorts as he gets up to leave.
My parents' mouths hang open, looking like deer stuck in the headlights at how Carter’s speaking to me.
Carter and I fight, and are likely the meanest to each other, but it's typically in good fun. However, today there’s no sarcasm in his voice, it’s just plain mean.
“Honey,” Mom starts before I cut her off.
“No Mom, Carter is right, all of you have always sugar-coated everything.
And in reality there is no part of life that is sugar coated.
I'm an adult, working as a physical therapist for some of the most demanding jobs, in the biggest city in the state.
I understand that life is hard out there, that it's not fair, and heartbreak is part of that.
I also know that I have a lot of emotions, and they are big and loud and deep.
But I'm damn proud to be able to feel and love as large as I do, even if it hurts in the long run,” I say, standing up from the table, needing some air and space to figure out what exactly is going on with Noah and his family.
And unfortunately my brothers are probably the best place to start.