Chapter 29 - Olivia
A iden sent Olivia off the next day with promises to visit her in Gresham as soon as possible. Even though the distance was not ideal, she was willing to put up with it. They were adults. They had their own lives to manage. And when they were together, they would be together.
However, the sense of calm confidence Olivia felt in Aiden’s presence dissipated on the drive home. The same thoughts that plagued her drive to Saint Paul seeped into her retreat to Gresham. Though, admittedly, she felt like she had a better sense of where Aiden stood on things. He’d asked her to be exclusive, and she smiled at the sweet memory of him stopping at a red light to kiss her. It was all so romantic, and it was not something she’d experienced before with Sam. Aiden was so much more willing to put himself out there than Sam had ever been.
Still, the distance—and what they were going to do about it—hadn’t changed. Two hours and two careers stood between them, not to mention the potential addition of thousands of acres of farmland.
After endless and fruitless obsessing, she arbitrarily decided she would give their budding relationship one month free of worries or decisions because no one could fall in love in one month. She emphatically ignored the voice questioning whether that road had already been crossed.
Olivia was back home in time for Sunday pot roast, so she drove straight to her parents’ house. She was excited to see Ms. Darcy and hear from her mom how the CSA distribution had gone.
She’d bought a thank-you gift for her mom from the farmers market she and Aiden had visited. It was one of those cutesy “Welcome Home” signs covered in ceramic sunflowers, perfect decor for any Midwest home and particularly perfect for her mom since she adored sunflowers.
When Olivia opened the door, her mom looked up from where she sat balancing her checkbook, and Ms. Darcy nearly toppled Olivia with a running jump.
What could possibly be better than a loving dog’s loyal hello?
“You poor baby,” Olivia crooned, sitting on the floor to cuddle her sweet pup. “Was Jackie so mean to you? She didn’t even play with you at all? And no one pet you? Aww, poor puppy.”
In response to Olivia’s melodramatic voice, Ms. Darcy aggressively licked her face and howled mournfully.
“Do not let her fool you. That dog is as spoiled as the day is long.” Her mom sounded defensive. “I’ll have you know she slept on the bed with her head on my pillow last night.”
“Awww, thanks, Mom. How did Dad feel about that?”
“Oh, you’ll find out for yourself soon enough, I’m sure. ”
On cue, Olivia’s dad walked in through the door, fingers covered in mechanical grease. He turned on the sink and sprayed dish soap on his hands. “Good Lord, that dog is a spoiled brat.”
“Hey!” Olivia protested, pretending to cover Ms. Darcy’s ears. “She can hear you.”
“Yeah, well, your mom kicked me out of bed last night so the dog could sleep next to her. I had to sleep on the damn pull-out sofa in the basement.”
Olivia laughed loudly and gave Ms. Darcy more belly rubs. “Oh, good girl, Ms. Darcy. Good girl,” she said in a whiny baby-talk voice, hoping to annoy her dad.
“She wouldn’t stop crying,” her mom said defensively. “She missed her mama.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” her dad said disgustedly. He was a firm believer that dogs had been put on earth to serve humans, specifically farmers and hunters.
Olivia was momentarily distracted by her phone vibrating. She pulled it out of her pocket.
Aiden: Should I be embarrassed that I already miss you?
Olivia: ( Kissy winky face emoji)
“Look at that smile,” her mom teased. “I take it things went well with Aiden?”
Olivia wasn’t used to her parents being so close to her dating life. She’d kept her parents in the dark as much as possible, hoping it would minimize the pressure she already felt regarding all things Aiden, but it was hard to know what they’d gleaned from other sources. Of course, with her mom covering her CSA for her, Olivia had to fork over a few details.
“Who’s Aiden?” her dad asked, characteristically clueless .
“I told you, Bill. Aiden is the Westcott boy Olivia went to school with.”
Oh, how odd life is . How did I end up here in this moment?
“Dr. Wescott’s son? What does Aiden do, then?”
“He’s a doctor, too.” Olivia silently challenged him to question the profession as not good enough.
“Hmmm…chip off the old block, eh? So, when are you bringing this young man to Sunday dinner? Why isn’t he here now?”
“He lives in Saint Paul, and he had to work today,” she answered with surprising patience, making an effort not to overreact to the silly things that came out of her dad’s mouth.
“Well, I'd like to meet him soon . I don't want you dating another Sam. I knew that boy wasn't worth much the minute I saw him.”
Deep breath, deep breath. How is this my father?
Likely sensing Olivia’s raised hackles, her mom redirected. “Guess who I saw at the market?”
“Who?”
“Madeleine Jacobs.”
“ Yeah ? How's she?” Olivia asked.
“Good! She's got a little girl, and she lives over in Naperville. I told her to give you a call.”
“Oh great, it would be fun to catch up.”
Olivia tried to remember the last time they’d seen each other—maybe the summer after their sophomore year of college when they both happened to be in Gresham?
Maddy had been one of Olivia’s best friends growing up, and there hadn’t been any particular reason they’d grown apart. The longer Olivia was in Seattle, the easier it was to simplify her visits back to Minnesota and focus solely on her time with her family. She eventually stopped reaching out to old friends to let them know when she’d be back in town. Now that she was living in Gresham, she regretted having lost touch with so many.
Her dad took advantage of Olivia’s quiet to add, “She married a farmer, ya know? That Hanson fellow who raises sugar beets.”
Olivia thought hard about how to respond, hoping for a reply that wouldn’t lead them into murky waters.
“That's great, good for her.” Short and sweet.
But she could feel it coming. They hadn't discussed the farm thing in at least a month, and the pressure cooker was bound to blow if her dad held it in much longer.
“Do you think Aiden would be interested in farming? Sounds like he’d be smart enough.”
“Something tells me he's not going to give up his career in medicine.” Olivia’s words were drenched in sarcasm.
“So, what are you going to do, move to the Cities to be with him then? Going to chase another dead-end relationship? I thought we had an understanding that you're home now. You've had your fun, and it's time to grow up.”
“That's enough, Bill,” her mom said firmly.
“Well, she started it,” he said in a huff.
Childish, childish, and I'm dying to mirror him. Olivia took a few deep breaths so she wouldn’t stoop to his immature level.
“I don't know yet, Dad. I guess we'll see.”
“So, what's it going to take, then? For you to face this reality of being handed a wildly successful business that could feed you and generations to come. I didn't build this farm up for nothing. I did it to secure a future for you and your kids and their kids.”
“I know, Dad, I know. Listen, how about I give you a firm answer by October first?”
He harrumphed his acknowledgment.
“But…” Olivia paused until he was listening. “But, if I take over the farm, I will have conditions.”
“Of course you will,” he grumbled.
“And I'm not doing it without Philip.”
“Fine.”
She was glad he hadn’t fought her on the Philip partnership. If nothing else, she hoped giving her dad a deadline for her decision would buy her some time to figure out what she actually wanted and how Aiden may or may not factor into her future.
As the tension subsided, Olivia’s mom filled her in on her CSA customers’ gossip. Apparently, Pam hadn’t stopped to pick up her box, so Olivia’s mom had dropped the box off at Pam’s house. Olivia’s mom insisted it was “no trouble,” and she knew where Pam lived.
As it turned out, Pam had twisted her ankle at the Y that week and wasn’t feeling ready to leave the house. Olivia considered whether she would be able to drop off Pam’s order the following week as well. She’d have to figure out how to squeeze it in. She sent herself an email so she wouldn’t forget.
Olivia’s mom said several of her CSA subscribers commented on how much they loved their sweet corn, but they could use fewer zucchinis. Olivia laughed and sent herself another email to take it easy on the zukes that week. It was going to be hard given how absolutely abundant they were and how little desire she had to make more zucchini bread. Olivia had tried to get her mom to start a zucchini bread side hustle, but her mom shut the idea down immediately, having fought her own zucchini wars in years past.
“That sounds like a you problem,” her mom had said sassily. Smiling, Olivia asked where she had learned that phrasing. “Fiona,” her mom had replied proudly.
Oh well, Olivia sighed internally, you can't win ‘em all .
Hopefully, the food bank could find a use for the zucchinis along with the other veggies causing Olivia daily anxiety for fear they might go to waste. She wondered if they could send volunteers to harvest the unpicked vegetables so Olivia could focus on her customers without feeling so guilty about the produce that rotted on the vine. She sent herself a third email to call the food bank director in the morning.
The ever-constant harvest clock ticked on, and she considered how much a bountiful harvest was a double-edged sword.