Chapter 27 Olivia
I stick my head through the bifold doors, my bike helmet over my arm.
“Mom? I’m heading to work.”
No reply.
I can hear her voice in the distance. It’s coming from the little study near the front doors. I step into the cool of the house. She’s on the phone to somebody.
I fill my water bottle in the kitchen sink. I can just make out what she’s saying, without intending to eavesdrop.
“It’s worked so far, hasn’t it? I don’t see what the problem is .
. . So, get creative with the books. It’s only one server’s pitiful pay, Juliette, I’m sure you can hide it from the auditors.
For goodness’ sake, put it down as supply expenses or something.
There’s no paper trail . . . I don’t know.
You’re the one running a restaurant . . .
But we had an arrangement!” Mom’s voice rises.
“Look, I don’t want to have to go through with saying anything to Manuel, but let’s face it, we both have our secrets, and you’re leaving me with no options.
That job is all Liv has. She has no way of earning otherwise, and it’s the only thing giving her purpose .
. . I’m sorry you feel that way, I really am . . . Juliette . . . Juliette?”
There’s silence, then the stomping of footsteps coming toward the kitchen. Mom appears around the corner from the living room, and freezes when she sees me at the sink. My water bottle is suspended halfway to my lips.
I can’t believe what I just heard.
“Mom?” I manage. “What the hell?”
My mother purses her lips, exhaling slowly before she says, too brightly, “Honey. I thought you were on your way to work already.”
“Mom. Seriously. What the hell were you and Juliette talking about? Did you . . . Are you coercing her into letting me have this job?”
She sits on a stool at the marble kitchen island, her hands shaking. Suddenly frail.
I persist. “Are you threatening to tell her husband something if she doesn’t keep me on? That’s what it sounded like.”
Mom looks at her hands. “I did something bad, Livvie. I asked Juliette to hire you, telling her you were my relation, but you didn’t have ID or Social Security, and when I wouldn’t tell her why, she refused.
I knew you desperately needed a job to give you some purpose and a sense of independence and adulthood, and I was out of options.
“Juliette has been very unhappy with Manuel, and I knew she’d started seeing a guy on the side, one of the golf club pros.
So I just dropped a hint that I’d keep her secret if she looked the other way about ours, and hired you under the table.
I knew she was real short-staffed at the restaurant, so it didn’t take much .
. . coercion, as you call it.” She doesn’t look up at me for this entire confession.
I put my water bottle down. “Mom. That is blackmail. And you call yourself a Christian? I can’t believe you’d do something like that. Juliette is a kind and generous woman, she’s been a good friend, and you bullied her into giving me a job? It’s totally unforgivable.”
Mom raises her eyes in surprise. “She’s also an adulterer, Olivia.” She only uses my full name when she’s really mad. “Juliette is far from perfect. And it was more of an . . . arrangement, I’d say. A quid pro quo. We both needed our secrets to be kept, to help each other out. And that’s that.”
I shake my head, bewildered. “But now there are auditors coming, and she’s worried they’ll find out I’m working there for cash?”
“It seems so.” Mom’s gaze drops again, as she fiddles with her heavy engagement ring.
I twist my mouth and take a gulp of water. It’s pretty clear what I have to do.
“You should never have done that, Mom. I’d have never taken the job if I’d known what kind of position you were putting Juliette in. You know I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know that, Livvie,” she replies in a cold tone. “I don’t know what you’re like as an adult. What your morals are, or where you’d draw the ethical line. I barely know you, honestly. You don’t seem anything like the daughter I lost sixteen years ago.”
I turn to leave, her words cutting me to the quick. “That’s because I’m an adult now, Mom. I’m twenty-eight years old and you’ve been treating me like a pre-teen ever since I moved into the pool house.”
Her shoulders shake and she buries her face in her hands. “Of course, I did, Livvie,” she rasps. “I thought I had my baby back, at long last. But it’s like you’re not even her.”
Despite the truth of her words, that I’m not her Livvie, I’m hurt. Still, I step around the island, place my hand on her back, patting her ineffectually.
“Mom. I know it’s hard, but I have to go back to the restaurant.
I need to tell Juliette today will be my last shift.
I can’t continue there, considering the position she’s been put in, both with you and with the auditors.
And you,” I say firmly, “you’re going to mind your own business and say nothing to Manuel, okay?
” I hold up my hand as she goes to speak.
“Quitting the job is my choice, so Juliette held up her end of the bargain. Deal?”
If there’s one thing Mom understands, it’s a deal.
She raises her eyes to me, stares, and nods. “What will you do if you’re not working?”
I drop my water bottle into my purse and pick up my bike helmet. “You let me worry about that. I gotta go, I’m late.”
I leave Mom to consider her sins as I push out on her yellow bike, racing to work in record time.
The day is mercifully cooler than it has been, slightly overcast, and for once I’m not dripping with sweat by the time I arrive.
I lock up, as usual, near Jake’s condo, reasonably confident that at 11:12 a.m. on a Wednesday, he won’t be home.
I run up the steps to the pier, and push into the restaurant.
Two customers are already standing at the front desk, being attended to by one of the young servers.
Kevin is behind the bar.
“Good evening.”
His tone is sarcastic, although not as bad as usual. He’s softened a little since Hayley quit two weeks ago, after Juliette gave her a much-needed dressing down for being rude to customers. But he’s never going to be my friend. I don’t seem to be doing that well in that department.
Deb is pouring ice water for the customers being seated in her section. She glances up as I approach. “What happened to you? You’re never late.”
I shake my head, grabbing an apron from the hooks. “Craziness at my house. Too complicated to explain. Is Juliette here?”
“Sure, more things I wouldn’t understand,” Deb mutters, but loud enough that I hear. “Yeah, she’s in her office.” She strides off to her customers.
I don’t seem to be able to win with Deb. It’s probably for the best that I likely won’t see her after today. She’s0020made it clear she can’t be my friend either. I have too many secrets.
There’s nobody in my section yet, so I grab the chance to talk to my boss.
I knock on Juliette’s semi-ajar door, pushing it open when she looks up at me.
She straightens, brushing her long gray hair off her face, and gives me a sad smile, as if she already knows what I’m about to say. Or as if she’s about to fire me.
I hold up my hands. “Before you say anything, I overheard my mo — erm, Tilly talking to you earlier, and I had no idea she had put you in such an awkward position when she asked you to hire me. I’m so sorry.
I’d never have taken the job if I’d known.
I thought you were simply doing her a favor.
” I take a deep breath. Of course I should have questioned it.
“I feel real bad about it. I think today has to be my last shift. I’m really sorry, as I know you’re busy, with Hayley gone. ”
Juliette’s smile widens. She’s clearly relieved.
“Thanks, Liv. I wasn’t going to be able to keep you anyways, with the tax audit in two weeks.
It’s just too risky. I interviewed a few people after Hayley left, and I’ve got two servers starting this weekend, so I’ll be okay.
We’ll miss you, though.” She sounds sincere.
“You’ve been an excellent server, and great to work with. I’m sorry it had to be this way.”
“Me too. I can’t believe that happened. . . Anyways, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“Thank you. I’ve already had to quit book club. I can’t face Tilly again. I think that friendship is over.”
“I can imagine.” I half-laugh, half-grimace. “Okay then. I’ll get started and finish at five. Maybe I can get my last pay then?”
“No problem, Liv,” Juliette says with a nod. “I’ll have it for you ready.”
I slip out into the restaurant, which is starting to fill with lunch customers. Deb raises an eyebrow at me as she posts an order for the kitchen. “What was that about?”
I bite my lip, grabbing an order pad. “Today’s my last day. I just quit.”
“You quit?” Deb’s eyes widen. “Liv, why? You got another job?”
I smile at her, shaking my head. “No, I just had to. I got customers, Deb. Talk later, okay?”
But I don’t get a chance to do so.
It’s a busy shift, with tourists taking the opportunity of a cloudy day to spend hours inside the restaurant, first for lunch, then for afternoon snacks and ice cream for their kids.
By the time 5 p.m. rolls around, the restaurant is still half-full, and the staff is swapping over for dinner shift.
Except for Deb, who is pulling another double, covering the shortfall until the new servers begin.
I manage to grab Deb by the bar after Juliette hands my final pay. “I’m heading out,” I tell her. “Just wanted to say bye. It’s been great working with you.” And I mean it. She’s one of the few people who was kind to me.
Deb purses her red-painted mouth, her eyes on one of her groups, who are trying to grab her attention. She nods at them and smiles. “Best of luck, Liv.” Her voice is low, and she doesn’t look at me. “I really hope it works out for you.”
“Thanks, you too.” But Deb’s already weaving between tables to her waiting customers.
I press my lips together and drop my apron into the laundry bin for the last time. I’ve already said goodbye to Juliette. The other young servers are busy with guests. Guess I’m done here.
Leaving the restaurant, I try not to feel depressed as I jog down the steps of the pier, crossing the sand to my parked bike. Have I really left such a minimal impression here? Will anyone miss me when I’m gone? Is anyone missing me back in my world?
The sky is darkening and, as I ride home, it starts to spit rain. I don’t mind, though. It suits my mood.
Back in the pool house, I shower and change. Since breakfast, I’ve eaten nothing but a handful of fries on a ten-minute break, and I’m ravenous. I make my way over the terrace to the main house, where Mom is cooking dinner.
“Hi.” I smile at her, hoping our quarrel from earlier will be forgotten. Especially now the job situation is resolved. “Can I help with dinner?”
Mom flinches slightly as she chops a tomato. “Sure,” she replies, but sounds unconvinced. Clearly there’s still a lot of awkwardness here. I guess suggesting that she was a bad Christian didn’t go down too well.
“How was your shift? Did you speak to Juliette?”
I nod, grabbing a chopping board and a red pepper. I slice it lengthways, the way Mom likes it. “Yeah. I won’t be going back. I quit, and picked up my final pay. So that’s done.”
Mom sighs, sliding the tomato expertly into the salad. “What will you do now? I can’t get you another job,” she adds petulantly.
“I know, Mom. I don’t expect you to. I’m . . . not sure what I’ll do, honestly. But things aren’t really working out for me here.” I add my pepper strips to the salad. “You want onion, too?” I reach for it, but she stops me, her hand tight on mine.
“Olivia. Never mind the goddam onion. What are you saying? You can’t leave!
” Her voice rises in pitch. “You don’t have any options.
You have no money, or only what cash you might’ve saved up, which would last you .
. . what? A month? You’ve no means of survival if you’re not living here with us. What are you thinking?”
I put my hand over hers. “Mom. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I know I’ve been nothing but a burden on you since I came back. I want you to stop worrying. Please. Let’s just eat.”
She grips the side of the island, gnawing at her lip before admitting, “I do worry. I worry I’m going to lose you all over again, that you’re going to do something to hurt yourself. It seems like you’re checking out.” Tears well up in her pretty eyes. “I’m scared, Livvie.”
So am I, Mom, I want to say. But Dad wanders into the kitchen. His heavy brow raises as it takes in the scene before him, his wife visibly distressed, my hand over hers.
“What’s going on?” His tone is curt.
Mom sniffs. “I think our daughter is leaving us again.”
I turn to Dad. “I didn’t say that, Dad. I quit my job at the restaurant today, and I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
That’s not entirely truthful, but . . .
Dad glares at me, seeing right through my bluster, the way he always does. “You’ve upset your mom, Olivia. That’s unacceptable. No.” He raises his hand, palm toward me. “I think you’d better not join us for dinner tonight. Take yours into the pool house for tonight, okay? Let your mom calm down.”
Wordlessly, I obey, serving myself salad and a slice of grilled halibut and taking my plate across the terrace. Inside my room, I eat at the little table, watching my parents move around the kitchen through the two sets of large doors, the turquoise pool stretching between us.
I’ve never felt so distant from them.
Checked out, like Mom said.
Their lives carrying on.
It’s as if I’m already gone.