Ch17_EAA_EBOOK
The night we got back from the Kaye house renovation, Olivia stopped breathing.
I bolted upright in bed when I heard her gasping across the hallway. I threw off my blankets and sprinted into her room to find her in bed, struggling to get up.
My hands found hers in the darkness and I pulled her into a sitting position. Her hand pressed against her heaving chest as she gulped in air.
“I…I got stuck…on my back,” she panted. “Th-the babies just…crush my lungs now…”
“Hey, you’re all right,” I said softly as I rubbed her back. “Just take a breather and get some rest, OK?”
I took her blue water cup off her nightstand and offered it to her. She took a few small sips and I stepped back toward my room.
“Wait,” Olivia said, “what if I get stuck again?”
I turned back to her. Even in the barest of moonlight filtering through the lace curtains, I could see Olivia’s wide eyes shining with tears.
My mouth suddenly went dry. “Do you…do you want me to stay?”
She gripped her cup with both hands and nodded.
I walked around to the other side of the bed and stared at the mattress like I was looking over the precipice of a cliff. My eyes flicked up to Olivia and she gave me an expectant look back, silently giving me permission to enter new territory.
I held my breath as I slowly got in bed next to her and rested my head on the pillow. The mattress was soft enough to sink into, but the air around us was stiffer than a board.
I cleared my throat. “I’m a pretty light sleeper, but don’t be afraid to shake me awake if you need me.”
Olivia sank down onto her side of the mattress and cuddled her pregnancy pillow. “Don’t tempt me, Beau.”
Only after she closed her eyes did I dare to close mine.
I didn’t go back to my bed the next night, or the night after that.
We made an unspoken agreement that I was her bedroom sentinel.
I helped her get out of bed each morning and also in the middle of the night if she needed.
I propped her feet up at the end of the day and watched documentaries with her until she passed out.
I even brought Titus’s bed into Olivia’s room so he wouldn’t feel left out.
Though we shared a bed, I didn’t consider us sleeping together. The mattress was big and Olivia stayed within the confines of her U-shaped pregnancy pillow, so it felt like we were in our own separate twin beds.
Sometimes, when the glow of the TV hit Olivia’s sleeping body just right, I caught a glimpse of one, or even both, of my babies moving beneath her pajamas.
As much as I cherished the sight, I didn’t dare touch.
The edge of Olivia’s pregnancy pillow made an invisible wall topped with barbed wire between us and I knew better than to venture where I wasn’t welcome.
But once, I caught myself stroking the tail of Olivia’s braid that had crossed over to my side of the bed.
When we binged season two of “Murder in the Heartland,” I turned to ask her if the defense lawyer was full of shit only to be disappointed that she had already fallen asleep.
When my thoughts were too loud at night, I would glance over at Olivia and wonder how her soft, round face would feel in my hands.
Sometimes I’d even catch her worrying her bottom lip during a dream.
Other times, I would mentally trace the generous curve of her hip and just… miss her.
I started to doubt that my devotion to Olivia was borne purely from obligation, or out of gratitude for the mother of my children, or even from a paternalistic instinct to protect and control.
What I felt for Olivia was similar to what I had with Katie—the urge to give, and give, and give. But with Katie, I was a young man dizzy with love, with Olivia…
…well, with Olivia, I was too busy thinking about what I felt so I wouldn’t actually have to feel it.
At some point, I had stopped putting aside my annoyance with Olivia for the sake of the twins and just…
enjoyed being around her. I slept better near her.
Her argumentative ass kept me mentally sharp.
Even though I wouldn’t confess to it under prolonged torture, her little murder shows were damn entertaining.
But any time I started breathing easy around her, a steely voice in the back of my mind reminded me of the cold, hard facts of our situation.
She never wanted to be with me.
She was only in my house because of the babies.
She’s leaving me as soon as they are born.
Though I tried to convince myself our situation was only temporary, the logical parts of my brain wouldn’t accept it.
No matter what could happen, we were Annie and Brady’s parents forever.
Olivia and I would see each other every holiday.
We would sit next to each other at our children’s graduations and weddings.
The rest of our lifetimes were tied together with twin ribbons, but Olivia acted as if she were about to be dragged by her neck beside me for all eternity.
As I paced the upstairs hallways, mentally sorting the facts and my feelings into orderly little boxes to file away, my phone buzzed with an alert that someone was outside. Before I could check the camera, the doorbell rang.
Puzzled, I headed down the stairs. Titus ran across the foyer and beat me to the front door. I gave him a little scratch behind the ear and ordered him to sit before I opened the door.
A huge delivery truck was parked out front and two men were unloading dozens of large cardboard boxes onto the front steps. Had Olivia been shopping again?
One of the men slid a stack of boxes off a dolly onto the concrete and I read the address label of the top box—they were all addressed to Cheryl Fontaine.
I furrowed my brows and pulled out my phone to call Mom. She picked up after a few rings, but the faded sounds of laughter and Celtic music hit my ears first.
“I’m in the city for the St. Paddy’s parade,” Mom answered quickly. “Make it zippy before I have to order more green beer.”
I gestured toward the growing stacks of boxes. “Mom, what the hell did you buy? The front lawn looks like a warehouse!”
“You sent me the baby registry, so I got it all,” she said casually.
“Mom, that registry was supposed to be for everyone coming to the baby shower!”
Mom’s lips smacked like she had just pulled them off a glass pint. “And? You need that stuff don’t you?”
I wasn’t exactly sure what all Olivia had put on the registry, but I couldn’t imagine that her prudent ass would want anything unnecessary.
“Thank you, but—” I looked over my shoulder into the foyer to make sure Olivia wasn’t listening. “She didn’t want all of that here. She’s going to set up a nursery back at her apartment once she recovers from delivery.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” Mom said bluntly. “Especially since I’ve already been setting up the nursery at the manor.”
I instantly turned on my heels and headed up the stairs. “You what?”
“Damn, son, I don’t think I’m drunk enough to be slurring my speech,” she replied. “You heard me—I took down the crap from the fake baby and started prepping for the real babies. Olivia left some decor ideas on her registry and I got inspired.”
The questions racing through my mind stalled from the panic of Mom getting inspired with house decor again.
I quickly walked down the upstairs hallway to the old nursery and opened the door.
To my pleasant surprise, all I could find inside was the Fontaine family rocking chair and newly-installed striped wallpaper the color of silver mist.
I hadn’t even smelled any wallpaper glue. Mom must have used special low-fume adhesive for Olivia’s sake, but how did I not know that she was in the house renovating?
“Wh-when did you do this?” I asked. “How did you get into the manor without anyone knowing?”
“You’re always messing around in the gym or on the phone with your finance guy whenever I come in. Your kids are going to get into all sorts of trouble if you don’t learn to pay attention!”
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Noted. I’ll deal with this, you have fun at the parade. Please don’t get arrested.”
“The law isn’t fast enough to catch me, unlike some,” she teased. “Love you!”
After she hung up, I went downstairs and gave the delivery guys a fistful of bills so they would take the cardboard clutter up to the nursery and off my front steps.
I rubbed the back of my neck as I went to check on Olivia. I wasn’t sure how she was going to take the fact that the twins’ nursery was being set up here, or that my mother took it upon herself to buy the whole registry list, or even that she had been in the house.
I grabbed a small box of tissues from my bedroom before crossing the hall. Olivia had so very little that she could control anymore, she would probably burst into tears when I told her the nursery had slipped out of her control too.
Slowly, I entered her room. Olivia was lying on her side in the bed. Though her breathing was slow, it wasn’t in her usual sleeping rhythm. The TV wasn’t even on.
I cleared my throat to make sure she knew I was there. “Hey…Mom bought everything off the registry and it all got delivered today. I’m sorry, I know you wanted to manage that yourself.”
Olivia let out a low hum of acknowledgement and didn’t move.
I passed the box of tissues from one hand to the other. “She also, um, started setting up the nursery down the hall. I didn’t tell her to, she just…wanted to help, I guess. She put up the silver wallpaper you liked.”
“Is that what all that noise was last week?” she asked dully.