Chapter 23
Flu fest day three.
Harlan has been vomit- and fever-free for twenty-four hours. So far, my body has not betrayed me. We just might survive this with minimal damage.
I glance at Harlan stretched out on an oversized, cushioned patio chair, feet resting next to mine on the matching ottoman, hands clasped over his chest, eyes closed.
The pallor of death is gone, and his gorgeous tan coloring has returned.
Covered by the awning of my deck, enjoying mild Texas November weather, he looks peaceful as the wind blows through his dark hair.
“Is your success as a caretaker proportionate to the amount of Lysol you use?” he asks. Without opening his eyes, he smiles. “I thought the flu would kill me, but it turns out I should’ve been worried about chemical poisoning.”
Sitting in an identical chair next to him, I elbow his forearm. “I buy in bulk so I can disinfect for a solid month after anyone pukes. You can never be too careful.”
His shoulders shake with his chuckle. “I thought germs could only live on a surface for twelve hours.”
“Yes, but their shelf life in my head is much longer.”
He opens an eye and peeks at me. “We’ll take as much Lysol as you want when we go camping.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes with dramatics that should impress this actor. “Are we back to this again?”
While hanging out with a sick person is not ideal for someone who suffers from emetophobia, the official name for my vomit phobia, the last few days gave us time together.
In between naps and an MST3K marathon, we discussed everything from terrible auditions to first kisses.
When he gained more energy, we covered deeper topics like life’s disappointments and surprise joys.
Each conversation drew me into the beauty that is Harlan Holcombe.
Sometimes our relationship feels like an unpredictable vortex that could lead to pain and heartbreak.
What does Harlan Holcombe dream for his future?
What if we don’t want the same things? But in quiet moments, I picture Harlan guiding me down the same spiral into the clutches of something real. Something safe.
“I don’t camp. Lysol can’t help any of my problems while being one with nature.
” I hold up my hand, ready to raise a finger for each point.
“Sleeping on a hard floor, eating food that may or may not be cooked all the way through, and going to the bathroom without the use of a toilet are not my ideas of fun. Not to mention impending bug or animal attacks.”
“I still think you’ve camped with the wrong people.” He sits up and turns toward me. “I’m offended you won’t consider going with me just once.”
I don’t care how blinding his smile is right now, I’m not budging. “Camping is for high school youth group make-out sessions, or single people who need to prove to their friends that they’re low-maintenance. I have nothing to prove.”
“So you won’t hang out in a tent with me.
” He reaches across the arms of the chairs and grabs my hand.
“But will you celebrate Christmas with my family in Colorado Springs?” He kisses my palm.
“Top-of-the-line mattresses.” Another kiss.
“Fully cooked meals.” Kiss. “Running water.” A final kiss and a wink.
I blink. The kisses were lovely, but fear is seeping into this conversation.
He leans in. “The flu wasn’t on purpose, but I’m constantly thinking about how we can make our schedules match up. Almost to stalker status.”
I blink again. Penelope’s warning about Olivia flashes through my head. How am I supposed to respond to him?
“Honest.” He grins and shakes my hand. “I was going to lie about a favorite barber in Dallas just for an excuse to come in town every two weeks. But a visit at Christmas would be easier.”
“You cut your hair every two weeks?”
“Meredith.”
With no alternative escape route, I double down. “Every two weeks for the disheveled look?”
He growls, part frustration, part amusement.
I close my eyes, inhale, then open them and look at him. “I can’t go, Harlan.”
His tone gentles. “Why not?”
“Um.” I pull my hand back and rearrange the afghan covering my legs. “Have you talked to Penelope?”
He straightens his spine. “What does Penelope have to do with this?”
Oh no. What do I do now?
“Meredith. If you won’t tell me, I’ll call her.”
I stop tucking the blanket around my knees. “No. Don’t. It’s not her.”
“If there’s been a misunderstanding with Penelope, let me help.” He swipes the screen on his phone.
“It’s Olivia.” My face cringes after her name bursts from my mouth.
His eyes slice to mine. “What about Olivia?”
“I don’t know details, but Penelope said Olivia’s going to challenge you for custody.
” I reach out to grab his arm. “If she brings me into that battle, it might be a disaster. My history over the last few years could make me appear unstable. And I won’t do anything to jeopardize your relationship with Alex.
” The last words wobble as tears simmer in my eyes, blurring my Hercules.
My gut clenches. I’m falling in love with Harlan Holcombe. And saying goodbye to him will take more courage than I can fathom.
A lethal vibe emanates off Harlan. Standing, he shifts away from me and stomps a few feet. He runs a hand through his hair and grips his neck. When he turns back in my direction, his eyes are blazing. “Sweetheart, come here.” His bossy command is somehow gentle.
“I think it’s best if we—”
“Sweetheart. Come here. Please.” He holds out a hand, but it’s the expression on his face that draws me to him. Bridled fortitude with flashes of vulnerability.
I walk to him and grasp his hand.
Standing in front of me, he thumbs through his phone and dials a number. As he puts the phone to his ear, his eyes bore into mine.
I swallow, nervous and unable to figure out what’s about to happen.
Harlan clenches his jaw. “Do not start with me, Olivia,” he says into his cell.
The sharp words surprise me.
“I’m only calling to say one thing. There will be no discussion.
” His nostrils flare, and his eyes never leave mine.
“Whatever it is you think you’re doing, stop it.
Now.” He shakes his head. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.
You’re dropping threats to Penelope about taking me to court over the woman I’m dating. ”
The warm whoosh filling my belly is at battle with the original acidic reaction to the situation. I’m rooting for the warmth.
“Do not act like this is about your father’s death.
This is one hundred percent because I have a woman in my life.
” He grips my hand tighter and breaks eye contact to lower his head.
“And do not force my hand. Your unstable emotional history will not serve you here. I’m not afraid to subpoena medical records or witnesses. Is that what you want?”
Whoa.
He grumbles at her response and looks up to the sky. As he opens his mouth, the doorbell rings. We both turn our heads to peer through the open sliding glass door.
I glance up to Harlan, and he gives a chin lift in the direction of the house.
Rubbing my thumb against his, I offer a feeble smile. As I shift to traipse through the house, I shake my head. What a mess.
Claire is supposed to drop off some chicken noodle soup from Panera. So when I swing the door open, I’m surprised to find Molly. “Hey. Everything okay?”
She plants a hand on her hip. “You tell me. You’re the one who hasn’t shown up to decorate for Christmas at the retirement community.”
I slap my palm to my forehead. “I completely forgot.”
She bulldozes her way past me into the house. “If you don’t want to help, please call the director. It makes me look bad when you stand her up.”
After I close the door, I turn to face my overinvolved sister. “Molly, I made a mistake.” As I take a breath to describe the last few days, Harlan’s raised voice floats through the house.
“What’s going on? He was supposed to leave yesterday. I thought I saw his rental outside, and now I hear his voice and know that’s his rental.” Molly’s narrowed eyes peer through the living room. “Is he why you’ve been such a flake?”
I breathe through the shock of her audacity and wring out my now shaking hands. This tension has been building for a while, but her sharp reaction still cuts me. “I knew this might be hard for you, Molly, but I didn’t realize that when I started living my own life, you would take it personally.”
“Take it personally?” She spits her words at me with an incredulous tone.
“I love you.” My face burns and tears sting my nose. “But I need you to let go of me. You have sacrificially cared for me, but you are now overstepping your bounds. I need you to let me find my own way.”
Her head rears back at my verbal slap.
“And you need to find your own way too,” I add. When she starts to respond, I shake my head. Holding up a hand, I walk past her. “Claire’s coming by soon to drop something off. Can you please answer the door?”
Not waiting for her reply, I step onto the back porch.
Harlan stands with legs slightly apart, one hand splayed on his hip, his head lowered as he stares at the phone in his other hand.
I gulp. “Everything all right?”
Face unreadable, he nods. “So.” He shifts his gaze to me and waits a beat. “Let’s start with the basics. Are you still falling in love with me?”
My head jerks back in surprise, and I blink. “Well. Yes.”
His eyes darken. “I’m definitely still falling in love with you. Will you please spend Christmas with my family and me?”
“What about Olivia? I can’t be something that causes you custody issues.”
He gives me a curt shake of his head. “She doesn’t get to be in this relationship, Meredith. I’m not worried about her. Penelope will contact my lawyer, and he’ll be ready for any of her moves.”
My shoulders slump. That’s still not ideal.
“Which is why you’re going to have to trust me on this one.” He steps closer. “So what about spending the holidays with me in Colorado?”
I know I can trust Harlan. It’s Olivia who gives me pause.