Twenty-Eight
Oliver
I have a problem with the phrase “falling in love.”
Falling happens fast. When you fall off your bike as a kid, it happens so fast, you’re barely able to register what’s happening before you hit the ground.
When you turn thirty and suddenly tripping on a crack in the sidewalk turns into a weeklong back spasm, you don’t remember the moment you fell. It happens too quickly.
I remember every moment of falling in love with Elle Thompson.
Which is why I won’t say I fell. Of course, it doesn’t sound as poetic, but I walked into it. Like an old lady crossing the street using a walker when you’re sitting at a red light and have to pee. That level of slowness.
It wasn’t like falling off of a bike or tripping on the pavement.
I remember meeting Elle outside my apartment door at the ass crack of dawn.
I remember the threadbare blue t-shirt she wore, and the disdainful look on her face when she saw me.
I remember the first time I heard her laugh, and the smile that lit up her face every time she saw Thor.
I remember the first time I kissed her, the first time I watched her sleep on the couch in my apartment.
Slowly, steadily, I walked into love with her. And there is no turning around.
“She was right to call you Grimace,” Henry tells me one night at the gym, coming up behind me and startling me. I must have been staring into space again instead of actually lifting any weights.
“I’m sorry?”
“Elle. She told me she likes to call you Grimace, but not to your face. So on point,” he says, sliding a weight onto a barbell.
“What is Grimace?”
“The mascot from McDonald’s. Big purple guy with a grouchy face?”
I pull out my phone and Google this character. Once I see photos of it, I realize that it’s the creepy purple guy that Elle would send me gifs of. Great. So glad it took me this long to figure that one out.
“I’m sorry I’m not a ray of fucking sunshine for everyone,” I grumble, leaning against the cage. I miss Elle. I can’t believe how much I miss her. She came barreling into my life at a time when I was so uncertain about what to do with myself. She gave me a kind of purpose, or a distraction.
No, distraction doesn’t do her justice. Elle and I were so in tune with each other—trying to figure out what made the other tick.
In a way, we were perfect for each other, the most unlikely friends.
Elle wanted me to be her project, so she could be my “hype girl.” But all the while, I just wanted to convince her that she is anything but the side character.
She’s the main character of every room she walks into. I just wish she could see it.
“You have to snap out of this, man,” Henry says, slapping me on the back. “Or you have to do something about it.”
“Something like what?” I ask.
“Something that doesn’t include moping around my gym,” Henry says, his voice stern.
“You made this girl think that being with her wasn’t what you wanted.
That you weren’t the settling down type.
Figure your shit out and show her that you are.
Show her that you’ll be here when she’s ready to give you another chance. ”
*
I’m at the dog run with Thor early the next morning.
I sit on the top of a wooden bench, watching Thor run around and have the time of his life.
I shake my head as he rolls around in a puddle of water created by a sketchy-looking hose in the corner of the dirt park.
This weekend is Memorial Day, and the weather is certainly warming up for it.
I keep glancing at the entrance to the park, picturing Elle walking through the gate, smiling when she sees me. Wishful thinking.
Central Park on a slow morning has become one of my favorite things about the city.
Maybe the favorite. I never thought I could accept living here, let alone loving this city so much that I think of it as home.
So much has changed since Elle took me on our first outing to the Highline.
I’ve changed. A part of me always felt like being in New York was somehow giving in to my father, letting him win.
These last few months with Elle, Henry, and even Thor have shown me that I’ve made a life for myself here. New York is not the enemy anymore.
Henry’s words echo in my head for most of the day.
I know he’s right. I need to do something.
I guess part of me has been procrastinating, letting myself live in limbo for a while.
I think the truth is I’ve been second-guessing myself.
Is being a doctor really something I can see myself doing for the rest of my life?
Do I want to be where my dad is in thirty years?
With that thought, my phone rings in my pocket, and I’m disappointed to see my sister’s name flashing on the screen. I’ve only spoken to my sister a few times over the last few months, so I sigh as I answer the call.
“Hey Soph,” I say, my voice low.
“Hey, I’m FaceTiming you, why didn’t you turn your video on?”
“I’m at the dog park with your dog. I’m not going to be one of those idiots who FaceTimes in public,” I say loud enough for the person on the bench opposite me to hear. The person who is very much on a FaceTime call. I eye the person next to me knowingly. She nods.
Sophia ignores my snide comment. “How is my little buddy?”
“I think he’s officially mine at this point.” And Elle’s, I finish in my head. My stomach drops at the thought.
“Um, I’m not sure if that’s true,” Sophia responds, drawing out her words.
“You adopted a dog and moved away from it for a year, Sophia. I don’t know what kind of monster has inhabited my sister, but I wouldn’t give this dog back to you even if you—”
I stop, because on the other end of the phone, my sister is laughing.
Hysterical laughing.
What the fuck?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I say, again too loudly, so much so that other dog park inhabitants give me a wary look.
“It’s nothing, I’m just so happy when I’m proven right,” she says, suppressing a snort.
“What?”
“Oliver, you’ve known me for twenty-four years, you really think I’m the kind of person to abandon a dog?”
“I don’t really know you that well, I guess,” I admit.
“Ugh,” I can practically hear the roll in her eyes. “I got the dog for you, you dumbass.”
I open my mouth to speak, but hesitate. “Huh?”
“Oliver, maybe you don’t know me well—maybe because you don’t pay attention or you’re too busy being grumpy all the time, or maybe because you’re a man—but I know you.
You were miserable in New York. You left to get away from Dad—from all of us.
Maybe it’s a little selfish of me, but I wanted you to see that you could have some happiness at home, and maybe convince you to stay. ”
I rub the fingers of my free hand against my temple. “Sophia, you are literally making no sense right now.”
She groans. “Oliver, I learned I was going to Italy the same time I found out you were moving back home. I knew I wouldn’t be there to try to convince you to stay, so I needed a representative.”
“And you chose a dog that could pass for a giant rabbit and named it Thor?” Thor stops running after a fluffy white poodle thing when he hears his name, and I swear he side-eyes me.
“I sure did,” Sophia replies confidently.
“W-why—” I stutter. “Why would you do this? Do you know how hard it has been having a dog and working twelve-hour shifts?”
“Because you’re my big brother, Ollie, and I love you.
I don’t want you to live on the other side of the country anymore.
” She pauses, and I’m glad I’m not on video at this moment, because I’m not sure what my face would say.
A mix of shock and disbelief, probably. “I know Dad is hard on you. I know you were pushed into this life. I know you resent me for how Mom and Dad treat me—”
“I don’t resent you,” I interrupt her, a crack in my voice.
“Yes, you do, and that’s okay. Because I resent you too,” she says matter-of-factly.
Um, ouch.
“For what exactly? Seems like you got the better end of the deal here. Not sure what you have to be resentful about.”
“You’re Oliver Cole, the next great Dr. Cole. How could I ever live up to that?” Sophia reasons. “Sure, Dad was a jerk to you, but you were his golden boy. He bragged about you to everyone—”
“That was just his own ego trip,” I interject, disdain in my voice.
“It doesn’t matter, it is all I heard growing up!” she counters, her voice going up an octave. “I wanted to be the center of attention. I wanted your attention. I wanted everything that you had.”
“That’s a bit ironic, I guess.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve always wanted the freedom that you have,” I admit. I rest my elbows on my knees and hang my head. Everything that Sophia is saying is striking a nerve. And I have too many nerves that are sensitive to striking right now.
“You have freedom, Oliver, you’ve just always been afraid to use it.”
“That’s not true. I never had a choice—”
“Of course you had a choice, you idiot! What, did Dad physically force you into medical school? You never stood up to him, that’s on you.”
“Okay, can we dial down the tough love here, Soph? I’m in the middle of a dog park,” I respond, trying to take down the emotional level of this conversation.
“So yeah, I wanted my brother to be happy,” she continues, ignoring my comment. “I wanted him to be home. Because I missed him. So I got a dog and dumped it on you. How did my plan work out? Do you want to stay in New York?”
Aw, fuck.
She Miyagi’d me.
My little sister Miyagi’d me. How the hell am I going to explain this?
“Oliver? Did I lose you?”
“No, I’m here…” I say, my voice fading. “I guess I just never knew you felt all of that. And I’m sorry I left. I missed you too while I was away.”
“No, you didn’t, but it’s fine.”
I take a deep breath. “You’re right, I never stood up to Dad.
Because as much as I hated him forcing me into a life that I never said I wanted, I do actually kind of want this life.
Or some form of it. My own version of it.
Maybe not one where I’m on call every week.
But maybe still medicine. I guess I never wanted to deal with his reaction. Being mad at him was easier.”
“So is there a version of it where you stay in New York?”
“I hope so, but it’s not the dog that is going to keep me here,” I say, just as Thor jumps up on the bench beside me. “Alright, it’s the dog and something else.”
*
When I get back to my apartment, I’m exhausted from the verbal beating I just got from my sister.
I plop on the couch as Thor takes a drink and rubs himself all over the carpet, trying to dry his face.
In the process, he kicks something from under the couch.
I bend down to retrieve it, and realize it must be a book that Elle left here from one of her ginormous canvas bags.
I flip it over in my hands and fan the pages, then read the back of it.
It’s about a princess of a small country who falls in love with her American bodyguard.
They can’t be together because she has to marry someone of nobility.
I flip through the book and stop at the Acknowledgements when I see Elle’s name. The author thanked her for supporting her on her writing journey. A sense of pride blooms in my chest. Supporting someone on their journey—sounds completely accurate, knowing Elle.
That’s how I find myself laying on my couch, on the pillow that still smells like Elle, reading a romance novel. It makes me feel closer to Elle than I have in weeks. Knowing that she helped create this, that it’s something she’s passionate about, makes me want to absorb every word.
It’s not as cheesy as I thought it would be.
I thought it would be like the Hallmark movie Henry tried to summarize for me, but really, it’s about a girl who is trying to figure out who she is and where she fits in the world.
It’s about a couple who are told they can’t be together, but realize the alternative is unacceptable.
By the end of the book, the princess makes the government repeal the law that says she has to marry someone royal, and she marries the bodyguard. She basically says, “This is what I’m doing. If you have a problem with it, suck it.” That was my favorite part.
I read the entire thing in one sitting. It’s supposed to be an uplifting story, but really all it does is make me miss Elle more.
But it also gives me a sense of hope, because even though the princess gets to marry the guy she loves, they don’t know what their future is going to look like.
The princess makes a whole speech saying that she doesn’t have everything figured out about how their relationship will work, but she loves him, so the rest of it doesn’t matter.
I snap the book closed and toss it to the other side of the couch.
I hate how Sophia was right. Since I’ve been home, not only did I get to meet someone as amazing as Elle, but I also feel more content in the state I grew up in than I have in a long time.
When you’re young, and dreaming of changing the world, maybe it doesn’t always occur to you that being away from the world you know can be so demoralizing.
Over the last few months, I have made connections that make me feel like a human again. I’ve fallen in love.
Maybe I don’t need to have every part of my life plan ironed out at once.
Maybe I don’t have to figure it out by myself.
And maybe now I can admit to myself that I don’t want to.
Elle has seen me struggle and supported me the entire time.
I don’t know what’s next, but I know I want to figure it out with Elle by my side.
Henry is right. I need to make a plan.
I’m going to show Elle that I’m permanent. I’m here to stay.
The next day, I email my supervisor at the hospital and ask for a meeting at his earliest convenience.
I send it before I can change my mind. I feel like I might throw up once I do, but it’s done.
I need to make some changes. Radical ones.
I need to take control of my life, because I don’t want my father’s.
The next thing I do is Instagram-stalk the shit out of Lucy.
I don’t want to call or text Elle and I know she hasn’t been home for the last few days. Is the wedding this weekend? Should I not bother Lucy the week of her wedding?
Screw it. She’ll understand.
I find Lucy’s “bookstagram” account (didn’t know that was a thing) and message her. She replies within a few minutes.
Lucy
THANK GOD
Lucy
She is the most miserable maid of honor I could ever have. (I still love her tho.) If you can make her happy, get up here and do something about it.
Lucy
Hudson Hollow, New York. Haul ass, lover boy.