30. Olive
30
OLIVE
L eo fell asleep faster than I did last night. I laid there like a psycho, watching him sleep. I don’t know if he’ll appreciate the video I made of him. He looked peaceful and kissable. I couldn’t help whispering, “You make it easy to fall in love with you.” If he heard me, he didn’t react.
We haven’t used the word love yet, but that’s okay. I told my long-term boyfriend in college that I loved him, but after graduation, he went off to grad school on the East Coast and I stayed in Cali for nursing school. Our relationship fizzled out quickly. It made me realize the difference between love and in love . Leo’s the first guy I’ve ever been in love with.
I didn’t tell Leo because most people would find it absurd to make such a declaration after a few days. They’d say it’s only lust, not love. Yes, I know, I shouldn’t care what people say. A week ago, I would’ve been one of those judgmental people. I even doubted Mom and Dad’s claim that it was love at first sight for them. I guess you have to experience it firsthand to believe it. And now, I’m a believer.
Anyway, when I woke up this morning, I sent Leo the video clip of him sleeping, then gave myself a pep talk to get things moving. I made a list of therapists, some gyms, and found a puppy yoga place. I’m not a big yoga fan, but who wouldn’t want to lie around with puppies? Maybe Mom would go with me…if she ever talks to me again.
Just as my lips are about to kiss the rim of my coffee cup, my phone plays “I Was Born to Love You.” A rush of excitement hits me—I set that song as Leo’s ringtone and text message tone. I open the phone and find two messages with attachments. Hmm . Interesting. I click on the first one.
Leo: Good morning, beautiful. Thanks for the awesome reminder of how good I look when I’m sleeping. I should be a model for pillows, mattresses, or melatonin supplements. Anywho, every day until I see you next, I’m going to send you a video or picture of me and Corey. This way, you can get to know us a little better. This one is a clip from our first dance recital. Check out my hair! Corey’s the one standing to my right.
I click on the video and brace myself. A group of eight boys, all wearing white tank tops and big, baggy black pants, stand in a row. Leo’s easy to find in the lineup with his frizzy hair. It’s like he stepped into a rainforest. I pause the video and zoom in so I can see Corey better. He’s slightly taller and thinner than Leo and has dark brown hair. It’s hard to make out his face because it’s an old video. I start it again and focus when a song begins. I think it’s from Usher. Then it’s go time.
My mouth drops open and I don’t blink because I’m too enthralled. This is their first recital? When did he say he started lessons? Ten years old? The performance is amazing. My heart melts as young Leo dances around the stage with enough enthusiasm to grab anybody’s attention. When the video ends, I restart it. The song has me pumped up now! I play it three more times, then put the phone down and massage my cramped jaw from my perma smile. I click on the next message.
Leo: I hope you enjoyed that. That one really makes me miss Corey, but I think watching them is the only way I’m going to move on. Speaking of healing, here’s a song that can get anybody’s motivation to kick in. No matter how hard it gets, we know what the endgame is.
Let’s see if I know the song he picked. I click on the YouTube link. It’s perfect. The music video of Katy Perry’s “Roar” plays. I love this freaking song. The first time I heard it was during a Super Bowl halftime show. I switch over to Spotify and create a new playlist to save all the songs he sends me. We already have a playlist created for us, but this one will be just for me.
Then I read the checklist I made this morning when I woke up.
It’s time to roar.
* * *
The next morning, my doorbell rings. I’m hoping it’s the cologne I ordered; the delivery was delayed. I whip open the door and freeze.
“Hi, sweetheart. Can we talk?” It’s Mom, clutching her crimson red purse. What a difference from how she greeted me last time.
“Of course, Mom. Come in.” I want to hug her already, but refrain. Instead, I step aside to let her in. She stops in the living room with her arms crossed over her chest, her purse hanging from the crook of her arm. It’s rare for her to look so insecure and uncomfortable.
“Let me take your coat.” She places her purse on the coffee table and hands me her matching red peacoat. One thing to know about Mom, she has good fashion sense. “Do you want something to drink?”
She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’d like to have a heart-to-heart with my daughter.”
“Okay. Let’s sit.” Leo’s song of the day, “Unstoppable” by Sia, is playing. I turn off the music and set the phone facedown on the table. I drape her jacket over the arm of the couch, then toss the scattered pillows aside. She sits down, her shoulders squared and tense, hands clasped in her lap. I join her, one leg folded under me on the couch and my back against the armrest.
“Talk to me, Mom. I want everything out in the open. This conversation is long overdue.”
She nods wearily. I reach over and grab her hands to encourage her to speak. A few seconds later, she says, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me. And your uncle Bruce. And Andy. You were right—instead of me listening to anyone else, I only thought about myself.
“Your dad left us without warning. What began as a great day ended with him never coming home again. Never sleeping in our bed, never kissing me throughout the day, never saying ‘I love you,’ never teasing me about my baking skills—” Her voice cracks and she closes her eyes. I blink back the stubborn tears that want to make an appearance. She takes a few deep breaths and continues. “Instead of dealing with his death, I put all my energy into you and Andy. Andy left without a second thought, and I shifted my focus to you. When I showed up on your birthday and Andy told me you’d left and wouldn’t say where you were, I?—”
Oh. “Mom?—”
She raises her hand for me to stop. “It seems like everyone is leaving, and I’ll be left here alone. Your dad was my best friend, but you’re my only daughter and best girlfriend.”
That’s another thing I don’t understand about Mom. She doesn’t have her own friends. My parents had friends who were married or couples, and they only socialized in pairs. She was content with Dad.
She continues. “I’m ashamed that I didn’t urge you to get help after LA and your father’s death. Instead, I made sure you needed me because, without that, my life has no purpose. I’m sorry, honey. Caring for my family was my favorite role, and now it feels like no one needs me anymore. The house is cold and empty, and the silence is unbearable.”
I move closer and rest my hand on her back. “Mom, I’ll always need you, but we need boundaries. This was both of our faults. I hung on to you too. We’ve experienced traumatic events, and instead of dealing with them head-on, we gave up. At least I did, anyway.”
“But what made you leave on your birthday?”
“Believe it or not, it’s because I watched Under the Tuscan Sun right after Christmas. Do you remember that movie? We saw it together years ago.”
She tugs on her lower lip while deep in thought. “I think so,” she says. “With Diane Lane, right?”
“Mm hmm. Remember the part where her best friend was talking about her being at a crossroads?” When she nods, I continue. “Well, there was this quote that her friend said, something like, ‘Someday, someone will look at you and wonder what happened to make you so miserable and closed off.’ And I realized at that moment I was like that woman, and I was a few days away from turning thirty.
“I knew I had to do something, Mom. Uncle Bruce and Andy had been nagging me to get a life. And I’m sorry, but if I’d told you, you would’ve insisted on going with me.”
She fiddles with her fingernails, then glances at me. “You’re right.”
“I needed to be in a new environment where I could find myself again. It was scary as hell to go to a hotel alone.”
She places her hand on my knee. “You might not believe this, but I’m really proud of you. And envious. I don’t know if I could do that.”
“That’s because you had Dad. You never had to do things alone. Now’s your chance. Being alone can be awful, but it can be awesome too. Go make new friends, take advantage of your freedom, and try new things. Like me—I found a puppy yoga studio nearby and there’s a class tomorrow morning. I’m gonna try it. Want to go with me?”
“Puppy yoga? I do love puppies.” She crinkles her nose. “Not sure about the yoga thing. My body’s not as flexible as it was in my twenties.”
I snicker. “Who cares? It’s something new. You might like it. You might even decide to get a dog. You’ve always said you wanted one but couldn’t because of Dad’s allergies.”
“Hmm.”
I wrap both of my hands around hers. “Promise me you’ll think about it. I’m telling you, Mom—one week away has changed everything for me.”
“You do seem happier or lighter. I like your new hair color.” She lifts a strand.
“Thanks.” I perk up. “While I was there, I had a little makeover and bought some new clothes.”
The doorbell rings, and we both jump. I head to the door and open it eagerly. A mailman hands me a box. Leo’s cologne. I want to tear it open and smell him again, but I’ll wait until Mom leaves. I set the box on the kitchen counter and return to the couch.
“It’s wonderful to see you smiling again.” Mom’s eyes fill with regret. “I’m such a terrible mother. I never imagined I’d become this kind of parent. Please forgive me, Olive. I promise I’ll do better.”
“I Was Born to Love You” pulses in the air, interrupting us again. “I’m sorry, Mom. Let me turn it off.” I pick it up and beam when I see his name. I turn the volume off and rest it on the couch.
“You’re glowing. What’s going on?” Mom comments, her own smile growing.
Suddenly nervous, I stuff my hands between my legs. “Um. I met someone while I was on Orcas Island.”
Her face drops, and rapid blinking follows. Not good. I can hear the buzzing of her thoughts. “Oh. Was…was that him calling?” She glances at my phone. “And you went to Orcas Island?”
“Yes. I loved it there and can’t wait to go back.”
Mom’s eyebrows transform into a unibrow. “Why there, of all places? Especially at this time of year.”
“Just because you prefer warmer weather doesn’t mean I have to do the same. The island was gorgeous.”
“You’re right.” She looks defeated again. I glance at my watch because I have to leave soon for my appointment.
She finally meets my gaze with a blank expression and says, “Where did you stay?” Jeez, Mom . At least act interested in what I have to say.
“I stayed at the Madrona Inn. It was huge and truly romantic. They have the best French café.”
“And who’s the young man you met?”
My chest warms, thinking about how he charged into my life and changed everything. “His name’s Leo. From the first time he spoke to me, he had me under a spell.” My body feels warm and fuzzy. “He’s gorgeous and so my type. We spent every second we could together.”
“And you’re still in contact? Does he live nearby? Will you see him again?”
“He’s a hotel critic. He’ll be traveling for the next six weeks. When he’s not on the road, he lives at the hotel his family owns. The one I stayed at. We plan on getting together when he returns. Mom, I think he’s the one. The real thing .” I love being able to talk about him with someone.
“You think he’s the one after one week?” Skepticism drips from her voice.
Seriously? Of all people to ask that. What a hypocrite!
“Yes.” I say firmly. “He treats me like gold.”
“And that’s what I like to hear. My daughter deserves nothing but the best.” She says the right words, but her voice is flat.
I tip my head to the side. “Right. You sound really convincing.”
“Sweetheart, I’m simply trying to catch up with everything that’s happened since you left. And now you’re telling me you’ve met someone. It’s?—”
My alarm interrupts us. “Sorry, Mom.” I turn it off and stand up. “I have to leave in a few minutes for an appointment.” Good timing, because I’m concerned she might break down again or say something about Leo that’ll piss me off.
“Okay.” She stands too and reaches for her coat.
I intercept before she picks it up. “Mom, about before. I love you and I only want what’s best for you. It takes time to embrace the changes in your life. It won’t happen overnight. We’re both going to have good and bad days. I want us to be there for each other. I have a long list of things I need to do and change. The most important is to go to a therapist. I got a last-minute appointment at one and that’s where I’m going now. And I even want to go to LA.”
Her eyes widen. “LA? Are you sure?”
“Yep. I want to see my old boss. If it doesn’t help, at least I’ll know I tried. Right now, the guilt is killing me and holding me back.”
Mom suddenly hugs me with all her strength. “You’re much braver than I am, Olive. I’m proud of you. You give me hope.” We separate slowly and giggle because we’re both slobbery messes.
She wipes the moisture from under her eyes. “Good luck with your appointment. I’m off to the cemetery to talk to your dad.”
My heart clenches. “That’s sweet, Mom.” I remember that Leo hasn’t gone to Corey’s grave since his funeral.
“It makes me feel better. Want to come with me? I could wait until you’re finished with your appointment.”
I flash her a genuine smile. “I’d love to.”
* * *
We visited Dad’s grave that afternoon, and then we went to a café together. It felt good. I didn’t want to talk about my therapy session yet, but the black cloud was no longer hanging over Mom and me. Somehow, we set aside the issues between us and simply savored a relaxed moment together. I listened to her tell stories about Dad, ones I’ve heard a hundred times before. It didn’t matter; what counted was how happy it made her.
I know she’s skeptical about Leo and his intentions, even though she didn’t say anything out loud. Looking at it from her perspective, I understand her worries. I described the Madrona Inn to her and asked her to go back with me, but she wasn’t interested. That’s okay—I’ll be going back either way.
And that’s how the day went. I know it didn’t solve all our problems, but it’s a big step forward.