Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
OLIVE
“ P ick a hand.”
Liam looks at my fists with unmistakable skepticism. “What?”
“It’s the thing! Remember the thing?”
He frowns.
“Come on, choose your adventure,” I say brightly.
I haven’t seen Liam since yesterday, and frankly, a part of me doesn’t feel chipper and happy after the fated reunion with Travis.
But after a full day of working on the events we’ve lined up—getting the word out to surrounding communities, chatting with vendors, sending poster designs to be printed, and even making a few videos with Lacey, I feel energized enough to keep my promise to help Liam remember why he loves Pine Creek.
I’m convinced that deep down, he does.
Travis called the office to “clarify some numbers,” which led to him asking again about dinner. “Or coffee. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I want this to be about you.”
Sorry. Nope. Not going to happen. And for the love, can he please take the hint ?
So now, here I am. Standing on Liam’s parents’ porch.
Fists out, smile on, wondering if yesterday erased all the positive progress I’ve made with soothing the grumpy side of Liam—and if we’ve taken three steps back.
Travis’ persistence isn’t going to work with me. I wonder if my persistence will work with Liam.
Different motivations, for sure.
He takes a slow breath but doesn’t respond, and I shake my hands at him, reminding him how this game is played.
His lip twitches. Involuntarily, I decide, given his stoic expression hasn’t changed. “I was working.”
“Oh!” I drop my hands to my sides. “What are you working on?”
“A video game.” He says this with a shrug, a bit downplayed and slightly embarrassed.
“Can I see?”
“No.”
“What’s it about?”
His hand is still on the door, like at any second he could slam it in my face. “You wouldn’t get it.”
My eyes go wide. “Why not? Because I’m a girl? Girls do play video games, you know?”
He glares at me.
“Come on! I’ll be such a great cheerleader. Or wait! I could be your crash test dummy. Like, if I can figure it out, anyone can.”
“No.”
I frown. “You’re such a?—”
“Crank, I know.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare back at him.
He pauses, like he’s trying to muster up the courage to talk about it. “It’s just . . . not ready yet. To be tested,” he says. “It’s just concepts at this point. ”
“That’s so cool,” I say honestly. “I would love to see your ideas if you ever want to show me.”
“Noted.”
I hold my fists back out, and he sighs. I grin. “We’re going on a Pine Creek adventure.” I shake my hands. “Pick one.”
“Ice skating?”
My eyes drop to my left hand, then quickly back to him. “No.”
“You’re not going to go away, are you?” he asks.
I shake my head.
He taps my right hand, and I turn it over to reveal an acorn. He frowns. “I don’t want to go hunt for acorns.”
“It’s symbolic, you dork.” I turn him around and push him into the house. “Go get your snow clothes on.”
“It’s not snowing.”
“I mean your winter clothes.”
“Winter clothes?”
I’m exasperated now. “You know what I mean! Just do it!”
“You’re awfully bossy.” He walks over to the closet, opens it, and pulls out his coat. He steps into a pair of boots and produces gloves from his pocket. “What was in your other hand?”
“Hat,” I bark like an exhausted mom, and he pulls one out of his pocket without responding. I take it, go up on my tiptoes, and stick it on his head.
“It was another acorn, wasn’t it?” he asks dryly.
I quickly pocket the second acorn.
“Are you ready?” I ask, pretending he didn’t see me pocket the second acorn.
“Do I have a choice?” he asks.
I pretend to think about it, then say, “Nope.”
Ten minutes later, we’re in the woods, still on the private side of Pine Creek, me with two acorns in my pocket, and Liam with a blank expression on his face .
I stop moving and look around the clearing, as if I wasn’t out here a few hours ago on my lunch break, planning for this exact moment. “This is perfect. We’ll stop here.”
“We aren’t camping, are we?” he asks. “Because you wouldn’t last an hour.”
I shoot him a look and stick my hands on my hips. “I’m tougher than you think.”
One eyebrow lifts, but just barely. And then he smirks. “Are you?”
“I am.” I hold his gaze, and I can’t help it—I smile. Because Liam is smiling. It’s like we have an inside joke or something, and I love it. Even if I am the butt of that joke.
I don’t do a victory lap or anything, but I still count it as progress. I want to get sappy and tell him he should smile more—it’s such a nice smile and blah, blah, blah— but I’m afraid acknowledging it is the fastest way to make it disappear.
I pull an acorn out and toss it to him. He catches it without even looking at it, holding eye contact the entire time.
“Show off.”
“You wanna tell me what we’re doing out here?” he asks.
“For today’s Pine Creek adventure, we are taking it way, way back—” I walk over to the edge of the clearing and pull a picnic basket from underneath the brush.
His eyes widen. “Just happened upon a picnic basket, did you?”
I give a playful shrug and smile. Then, like he’s a winner on a game show I announce, “We’re building the best Pine Creek tree fort that has ever existed and eating dinner under the stars.”
He watches me, but if any of this makes him feel nostalgic, he doesn’t let on.
“Don’t you remember the tree forts?” I ask, hands dropping to my sides. “They were amazing! You and Benji would never let Lacey or me help, so we built our own girls only forts, and they were so much better than yours.” I laugh .
“That’s how you remember it?” he asks.
“Until someone proves me wrong, that is the official story.”
He shakes his head, and he looks like he’s trying not to smile.
“It was fun, right?” Sometimes, Liam’s mom would bring Benji and me out to the farm to play with Lacey and Liam when his grandparents still lived here. We had no trouble dreaming up ways to pass the time. This place kickstarts the imagination like nowhere else I’ve ever been.
One of those ways was to build forts. In the early winter months, there usually wasn’t snow on the ground, so those forts were constructed with tree branches and sticks and fallen leaves. Sometimes they were barely big enough for one person to sit in, and other times, all four of us squeezed together inside.
The forts were never sturdy or warm and did nothing to shield us from the weather, but it kept us occupied, and it was fun. Some of my best memories were made here—it’s strange to me that Liam doesn’t feel the same.
I look at him, half expecting him to grunt and walk back to the house. But then, he turns away, walking in a slow circle, surveying the area, and I instantly know he’s scouting the perfect spot.
We’re going to build a tree fort.
Aw, yeah.
“Here.” He’s standing in front of a group of trees, naturally forming an arch with their branches. “It’s practically got a roof already.” He glances my way and finds me doing a Snoopy dance because I took a gamble and it paid off.
“Don’t make it weird,” he says.
I stop immediately, give him a stern salute, and mimic his expression, then head off to gather branches. When I return, Liam is coming back into the clearing with his own armful.
We get to work, tucking branches to form the sides of the fort. As we work, questions float in and out of my mind. Why aren’t you and Travis friends anymore? Why did he ask if you’d made a move? Do you really want to give up this place? Do you envision a world where you aren’t a crabby old man trapped in the body of a hot guy?
But I don’t ask any of them. Liam seems to prefer silence, and honestly, I’m afraid of his answers. What if, despite all my cheer-spreading and market-planning and trying to convince Liam that I know what’s best for the farm, I still fail?
What if it’s not the last, best Christmas ever and he really does want to let it go and walk away?
And what if, after his parents move, I never see him again?
That’s a lot of what ifs.
What ifs take up about seventy-eight percent of my brain capacity most days.
None of those questions should matter anyway. We haven’t been in each other’s lives for a long time. If I never see him again, it’ll be just like the last several years, and I’ll be fine.
Only . . . now that all these memories have been jogged, I can’t imagine it. The friend I knew has to be in there somewhere, right? I just need to figure out how to draw him out.
I kind of miss him.
“So, you and Travis?” Liam says this without looking at me. He’s stuffing greenery into the side of the fort, using fallen branches from the nearby Balsam firs.
“What about me and Travis?” I ask, sort of shocked he is the one initiating this conversation.
“Dinner?” Still working. Still not looking at me.
I pick up a stick and weave it into the makeshift wall on my side of the fort. I cock my head. “Did anyone ever teach you to use your words?”
He glares at me, then spits out, “Are you and Travis going to dinner?”
I narrow my eyes. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why? What is going on with you two? ”
He looks at me, and I meet his gaze. There’s something strange happening right now, and I’m not sure what to make of it. What isn’t he telling me?
He goes back to working, and while I don’t want to spend this time talking about Travis, I do want to keep Liam talking. It’s as rare as seeing the northern lights, I can’t shut it down.
“We aren’t going to dinner.” I glance at him, trying to catch a hint of what he’s thinking from his expression, but he remains stone-faced as always.
“He said you were making dinner plans,” he says, stepping back from the fort.
“He talks more and says less than anyone I know.”
Liam’s laugh is so subtle I almost miss it. He sticks his hands on his hips and surveys the job we’ve done so far. If I’m being objective, his side looks like Bear Grylls crafted it with the care and consideration of an expert.
Mine, on the other hand, looks like it was made by a chimp under a strict one-minute time limit.
He glances at me. “That’s terrible.”
I laugh. “It’s the experience that matters, not the outcome.”
He looks away, eyes wide with an oookay face.
“And shut up, I have a plan.”
He shakes his head, then moves into the space beside me, picking up branches from the pile on the ground and working quietly, the way he always used to.
“Why do you ask? About Travis.”
He shrugs.
“Liam.”
He turns to me, looking like he’s deciding on the right words. “Just don’t think he’s a good guy.”
“Aww, so, you’re watching out for me?” I keep my tone playful, lingering on the “aww.”
But my teasing is met with an even more serious expression, so I shift .
“Sorry. Thank you,” I say. “But don’t worry about me. I learned my lesson about Travis.”
“What happened with you two?” he asks.
“Oh, you know, girl meets boy. Girl falls for boy.” I pick up a stick. “Boy falls for lots of girls. Boy doesn’t tell original girl about lots of girls, nor does he tell her about moving away or breaking up.” I throw the stick a ways away. “ Classic rom-com stuff.”
Liam stops moving and looks over at me. “Olive, I need to tell you something.”
“Something about Travis?” I ask. “Because it’s old news.”
A pained expression washes over him and he sits back on his heels. “Something about me.”
I stop moving and frown. “Okay.” The look on his face is so troubled, my stomach drops.
He inhales a slow, deep breath, almost like he’s working up the courage to say whatever he has to say. “The boy falls for . . . lots of girls part?” He meets my eyes. “I knew about that.”
I look away. “Oh.”
He knew and didn’t tell me?
Because I found out the hard way.
“I should’ve told you,” he admits. “I mean, I wasn’t sure at first. I thought maybe he’d realize how lucky he was to be with you. I mean, even back then, you were so funny and easy to talk to, and—” He stops, catching himself.
I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know he thought any of those things.
“I thought maybe things would be different, but he just wasn’t, and?—”
“It’s okay.” I sigh, brushing it off like it’s nothing because I desperately want it to be nothing.
He looks conflicted but goes back to working on the fort.
I sit there dumbly, for a long moment, wishing my feelings were easier to decipher. Or that they felt like I think they’re supposed to feel. Because yes, it was a long time ago, but the more I think about it, the more bothered I am.
“But . . . why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “I mean if you knew, you could’ve warned me, and—” I think back on the weeks of agony Travis put me through. The empty pints of ice cream and the garbage bags full of Kleenex. The stalking of his social media accounts. I was wrecked because this guy I thought I might’ve loved just walked out of my life and couldn’t even be bothered with a goodbye.
The last thing I want to do is dredge it all back up, but I can’t help myself. My brain has a tendency to fill in the blanks.
I continue to press. “Did you just feel more loyal to him or something?” I ask, because now I’m kind of annoyed. I mean, he could’ve saved me so much grief. “I didn’t find out about his cheating until we’d been over for a while.”
His face falls.
“The whole time we were together, he was—” I look away. “And you knew ? And you didn’t tell me . . .” I try to process how I feel about this realization.
I didn’t come here to relive this. I came here to make Liam fall in love with building forts at Pine Creek like we did when we were kids, and now I feel like I’ve gone off the rails, careening into the ravine.
His shoulders slump. “Olive, I’m sorry. I really am. I should’ve said something. And no, I didn’t feel loyal to Travis.”
The words hit me in a way I don’t expect. “Okay, so if you weren’t protecting your friend, then why not tell me? It would’ve been easier to know instead of—” I look away.
The worst part was feeling like I’d been played. I’d been so humiliated by the betrayal, and since Travis had just walked out, I never got the closure I needed.
Those feelings, though from the past, feel incredibly present right now .
“I didn’t say anything because—” He looks away— “I didn’t want to be the one to break your heart.”
I watch him incredulously. I think he means for it to sound heroic and kind, but to me I can only see it through the lens of how hurt I feel right now.
It feels selfish.
“You didn’t want to be the one to break my heart,” I repeat, standing.
He stands and faces me. “No. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“So, you let a text from Travis do it. Which is so much better,” my words bite.
He clenches his fists at his sides. “I know that now,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”
I scoff and walk back toward my sad fort. What a metaphor. “Why are we even talking about this?” I’m flustered now. And frustrated. I hate feeling this way.
“I know it’s in the past and everything, but—” he takes a step toward me. “It’s always bothered me. I guess I just figured you could take care of yourself.”
I steel my jaw. “I can.”
“I know.” He nods.
“But you still should’ve told me.”
“I know.”
I look away. I don’t want to go back down this road. Stupid Travis. Stupid cheating Travis. I cross my arms, fighting the urge to run away, knowing that every bit of pain I’m reliving in my mind right now is showing on my face. Because Liam’s silly little betrayal, easy to understand and explain away, feels worse to me than finding out about Travis.
That likely has to do with the way I feel about Liam. He said I’d romanticized Pine Creek, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s not all I romanticized. I obviously have a knack for thinking my relationships mean more than they do .
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. “You deserved so much better.”
The words hover in the air overhead, but I don’t let myself process them. “Why aren’t you and Travis friends anymore?”
Liam pulls his stocking cap off and messes up his dark, wavy hair.
He starts to speak but stops.
I swear, if he doesn’t talk right now . . .
“ Liam ?”
“Because I don’t want to be friends with someone who treats people the way he does,” he says sharply. “That night at the bonfire—” He sighs, gaze falling to the ground. He clenches his jaw and goes quiet.
I cross my arms over my chest, silently willing him to go on.
“I just have some regrets about that night. That’s all.”
I study him for a few long seconds, suddenly desperate to know what those regrets might be, but he’s not giving anything away.
I don’t know why but I say, “You want to know something crazy? I actually thought you were going to ask me out that night.”
His eyes jump to mine.
And I think, Oh. My gosh. I cannot believe I said that out loud.
I laugh, suddenly embarrassed because what am I saying right now ? “Dumb, right? It was just—” I’m tripping over my own words— “we were talking and laughing and?—”
Liam stares at me, brow knit together in a single, serious line.
“Sorry, that’s . . . it’s . . .” I wave my hands, like that might erase my embarrassment. “Forget I said that.” Please! Forget all of it!
I walk over to the picnic basket. “I’m not really hungry anymore, but it’s stuff from the café. All your favorites from what I remember. I’m going to head back. ”
I turn and start to walk away.
“Liv.”
I stop.
“What would you have said?”
I close my eyes, still not facing him.
I hear the soft crunch of his feet as he walks toward me, and then I feel a hand on my shoulder.
I turn around and see an intent expression on his face. “If I had asked,” he says, “what would you have said?”
I stare at him from across the small space, the weight of this conversation suddenly too heavy, the air too thick, so I do the only thing I know how to do at this moment.
I act like Liam.
I don’t say anything, I look at him, and weakly shrug.
Because I know there would be no going back if I told him the truth.