Chapter 13 Olivia
Dad’s better today, thank God. His hands are still unsteady, but his mood’s good, his eyes bright instead of dull.
I get him settled in his recliner with his favorite plaid throw draped over his legs and a mug of coffee on the side table.
His breathing seems better this morning, too.
It’s holding steady at eighty-nine. I’m leaving him off the concentrator for now, because he hates being tied to it.
“There,” I say, tucking the blanket around his knees. “You’re all set.”
“Only thing I’m missing is a piece of pie,” he says, grinning.
“Pie later. Coffee first,” I bargain.
“I could do both at the same time,” he says, making me laugh.
I cue up Blue Bloods reruns on the TV. The opening music fills the room, as I move to the kitchen.
I grab a piece of the apple pie I made for dinner.
I’m not going to tell my dad that he needs to wait until dinner time before he gets dessert.
I’m just happy he has an appetite for anything.
I take it back to him, sitting it on his tray and adjusting it over his lap.
I kiss his forehead, breathing in the scent of aftershave and coffee, before straightening.
For a few minutes, everything feels almost normal.
Then my cell buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out, seeing Blade’s name lighting up the screen. My stomach tightens. I hit decline quickly.
Dad makes a low tsk sound without even looking away from the TV. “You’re going to have to answer that young man sooner or later, baby girl.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is, honey.” His voice is gentle but firm, like always.
“What I know is that for the first time in years, you’re smiling again—happy even.
It’s been even longer since I’ve seen you open yourself up to anyone.
Don’t shut down until you’re sure what you’ve been building with that boy can’t be fixed. ”
“Dad …”
He turns his head, eyes soft and tired but clear. “Love’s precious, Liv. I’d give anything to have just one more hour with your momma.”
I sigh and sink into the couch. “I never said I was in love.”
He smiles, that slow, knowing grin that’s all too familiar. “You never said you weren’t.”
I blow out a heavy breath, puffing my bangs up. He chuckles quietly at my exasperation.
“Fine,” I mutter. “If he calls again, I’ll answer,” even as I answer him, I’m praying that Blade doesn’t call. Sadly, I barely get the words out before the phone rings.
Dad bursts out laughing. “Talk about good timing,” he jokes.
“Don’t start,” I mutter, sticking my tongue out at him, which only makes him laugh harder. I stand, shaking my head, and walk toward the kitchen as I swipe to answer. “Don’t you have a party to go to?” I bark at Blade.
“I was kind of hoping you’d come with me,” Blade says, his voice low, edged with something that sounds like disappointment.
“I already told you no,” I say, leaning against the counter. “I’m not sure why you’re still pushing.”
“I’m not pushing, Usdi,” he says softly. “I just want you with me.”
“I don’t want to go. What I don’t like even more is being made to feel guilty—or being called judgmental—for choosing not to go.”
“Livy—”
“Listen, Blade.” My throat tightens, but I keep my voice steady. “Maybe you need a different woman. I get it. I’m home tonight taking care of my father, and you want to go to a party. Maybe this is just us realizing we’re different people. And that’s okay.”
“You’re wrong,” he says, voice rougher now.
“Maybe,” I respond, but even I hear the doubt in my voice. I close my eyes. “Have fun, Blade. Tell Bear and Ayi hi for me.” Before he can answer, I hit end.
For a second, I just stand completely still, phone in my hand, feeling the sting of my tears behind my eyes. I refuse to cry. Instead, I set the phone down on the counter and take a deep breath.
The phone rings again.
“Please stop calling,” I say sharply as I answer.
“Wow,” comes a familiar laugh. “And here I thought you liked me.”
I blink. “Ayi?”
“The one and only. You thought I was Blade again, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” I admit, sinking into a seat at the breakfast bar, glad that Dad seems to be engrossed in his television show. “Sorry.”
“Is he still trying to get you to come to the party?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell him why you don’t want to go?”
I rub my forehead. “No. You know that’s not something I can share easily. If Blade’s going to pressure me to do something I don’t want to do—while calling me judgmental—I’m sure as hell not going to open up to him.”
Ayita makes a disgusted sound. “Men can be so stupid.”
I can’t help laughing, the tension in my chest easing a little. “They really can.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” she promises.
“Please don’t. There’s no point,” I respond quietly. “Let him do what he’s going to do.”
“Love you, Livy.”
“I love you too.”
We hang up, and I stare at the phone for a long moment, before powering it off, then dropping it on the bar.
Then, I walk into the living room and slowly sink into the couch cushions.
I notice Dad has fallen asleep, the TV flickering soft blue light over his face.
I smile. I know he didn’t sleep well at all last night for the pain.
I stare at his chest, watching it move up and down.
It fills me with peace and kind of makes me zone out.
The house feels too quiet now, and I tell myself it’s better this way.
But deep down, the silence hurts worse than it ever did before.
I miss Blade and I hate that I do …