2. Olive
2
OLIVE
I walk through the automatic sliding glass doors of the Madrona Inn, stop short, and gasp. I thought the exterior was spectacular with its stunning brick-red siding and white shutters. White twinkle lights illuminated the trees and bushes around the entrance, and large wreaths accented the expansive picture windows, creating a warm welcome for guests. But this…this is spectacular. The spacious foyer is beautifully decorated for the holiday season, like something you’d see in a quaint country home magazine.
A wide, twelve- or thirteen-foot-tall balsam fir Christmas tree stands in the middle of the room, commanding attention with its abundance of white lights reflecting off delicate silver and crystal ornaments. Bushy red poinsettias fill the open space at the bottom of the tree. Evergreen garlands wrap around the wooden banisters of the staircase behind it and over the archways, adorned with silver balls, red ribbons, holly, and mistletoe. I’ll need to enjoy the festive decorations while I’m here before they’re taken down.
The smell of pine permeates the air. I take a deep breath and let it all sink in. It reminds me of my dad and his obsession with real Christmas trees. One glimpse of this place, and I’m sure he would’ve liked it here. I’ve been questioning my parents’ refusal to visit these islands since I left the ferry. The quaint villages I drove through on the way here, the natural beauty of the surroundings—this place is incredible, and it’s not summer or even sunny out. I don’t get it.
My phone buzzes in my coat pocket, and I clench my jaw. Mom won’t give up. Not that I expected anything different. I yank off my leather gloves and pull out the phone. The screen is blank. Strange.
The buzzing starts again, and I realize the noise is coming from the automatic sliding glass doors opening and closing behind me, almost clipping my big ass. I take a quick step forward and scan the area to see if anyone is around. The group of people at the far left in the reception area doesn’t seem to have noticed. I straighten my coat and lift my chin high. Nope. My cheeks aren’t sizzling from embarrassment. Not at all.
Great start.
I twitch when my phone actually vibrates in my hand. It’s been off since I drove onto the ferry. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to Mom in the middle of a crowded deck. I turned the phone back on when I got here—only to find it flooded with missed calls and text messages. Some were from Andy warning me that Mom’s going bat-shit crazy because I haven’t answered her calls and angry messages. Shit .
Well, I’m here now, and there’s nothing she can do about it. I guess I’ll have to face her at some point. Check-in isn’t for another hour, but sooner would be better for this. I can’t wait until I’m in my room.
I stuff my gloves and my phone into my coat pockets and glance around for somewhere private. There’s a lounge to the right. I go over and peek inside. I’m relieved to find it empty. Our conversation doesn’t need an audience.
This room is as festive as the foyer with another gorgeous Christmas tree in front of a picture window. A plush, navy blue couch and matching armchairs, each adorned with cream-colored throw pillows, are arranged on an elegant blue and white oriental rug. The sitting area welcomes me to enjoy the warmth coming from the large, red-brick fireplace. Above the mantle, a mirror amplifies the size of the room. To the left, an expansive wooden bookcase, packed with colorful books, accents the wall.
Next to the doorway is a table with an assortment of teas and coffees for the guests to enjoy. Caffeine . My mouth waters, but I hold myself back. I might need something stronger than that after I talk to Mom. Is it too early for happy hour?
I park my large suitcase next to the couch and drape my forest green knit hat and black coat over the armrest. I drop my handbag on the couch and hold my hands out to the fire, absorbing the welcomed heat. I rise on my toes and catch my reflection in the mirror. Shit! My hair has formed an unruly halo around my head. Static crackles as I run my hand through it. Hoping to tame this disaster, I do it again, but the only thing that will help is water. With a closer look, I roll my eyes at the clear indentations on my forehead from my hat. Hey—it’s wintertime. What do people expect? Who cares anyway? It’s not like I’m trying to impress anybody here.
Once I’m warm enough, I sit on the cozy couch and let my body sink into the inviting cushions. I lift my phone out of the coat pocket and a call from Mom comes through. I take a deep breath and try to find my zone…wherever that is.
Swipe . “Hey, Mom,” I say as naturally as I can, like nothing’s out of the ordinary. But everything is different. So, so different.
“Don’t ‘hey Mom’ me, Olivia.” She only calls me Olivia when she’s fuming. It’s the same with Andy. “Where the hell are you? Our tracking system says you’re offline, and Andrew won’t tell me where you are. What is going on? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours. For all I know, you’re lying in a ditch somewhere.” As dramatic as ever.
“I’m not home, and I’m obviously not dead.” Good thing I turned my tracking off when I left the house. Knowing her, she’d have followed me here.
“Don’t be smart with me. I’m sitting in your apartment with Andrew, and the only thing he’ll tell me is that you left and you’re fine.”
“He’s right.”
Most of my life she’s been a typical helicopter mom, even from a distance when I was in LA, but it’s gotten excessive since my dad died. She doesn’t know what to do with herself anymore and has latched onto me. I swear there’s a steady thrumming sound whenever she’s around.
But I am thirty as of today, not twelve. Weird, right? I do understand her need for control, but I’ve finally realized it’s not healthy. Not only because of her smothering behavior, but because I let her do it. I was never like this. Never .
And she’s still rambling. “Now that I know you aren’t dead, where are you and what are you doing? When will you be back? I had to cancel the spa appointments I made for us as a surprise for your birthday.”
Andy really hasn’t told her anything! My stomach churns with guilt. What was I thinking, just getting up and leaving?
There wasn’t anything specific that pushed me over the edge. It was more an accumulation of things. But last night, the will to leave was so strong, I had to go. It was like two hands were on my back this morning, pushing me out the door. I was lucky to get a room at this hotel a couple of days ago.
“I’m at a hotel.”
“W–wait, what? Where? And for how long?” she stammers.
“I’m not saying.”
“Olivia…I don’t understand. Did something happen? Is this code for being kidnapped? Should I call 911?”
I chuckle to myself at how insane this is.
“Nope. Not kidnapped, Mom. But I need some space, and I don’t have that when I’m at home.” A moment of silence follows.
I may live alone, but Mom shows up whenever she feels like it. Which happens a lot. She begs me to move back home all the time, but that’s one thing I refuse to do. I drew the line with giving her a key too.
“We could’ve gone somewhere together,” she finally whines. “A change of surroundings would’ve been good for the both of us.”
“I want to be alone , Mom,” I emphasize. “And your other child’s visiting, don’t forget. Tomorrow’s his birthday. Focus on him for once.” He’s a year older than me, but we were born in the same year. Him in January and me in December.
“Yeah, Mom. What am I, chopped liver? I offered to go to the spa with you,” Andy chimes in, laying it on thick.
“Oh please, Andrew. Like you want a mani-pedi.”
“I’d do it. My dogs have been barking something fierce lately.”
I crack a smile. Andy’s such a wiseass. It’s the way he deals with Mom’s overbearing personality. He acts like a goofball when he’s home, but he’s one of the most intelligent guys I know.
“Don’t you want to hang out with your awesome, successful son?” Andy adds. I can picture his pouty face and puppy dog eyes as he tries to distract her.
“Don’t pretend you’re innocent here. You know something about your sister’s whereabouts and you aren’t telling me,” Mom retorts. Hints of anger are hard to ignore.
I tune out their bickering for a moment. I should hang up since she knows I’m not dead.
Too late.
“Now, Olive.” Oh—it’s Olive again. “You’re being ridiculous. Tell me where you are, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. It’ll be fun.” Her voice turns hopeful, as if I’m going to give in.
My guilt switches to full-blown anger. I hadn’t realized how overbearing my mom has become until Uncle Bruce and Andy confronted me about it. They suggested an intervention. Hence my escape.
“Would you listen to me, Mom? I know it sounds harsh, but I don’t want you here. I don’t want anybody here. I need to deal with some stuff, and I can only do that when I’m far away from everyone and everything.”
“Think about what things, honey? We’ve always been open with each other.”
I don’t need to see her face on the screen to know that her eyes are blinking faster than normal. A clear giveaway that she’s out of her element and control. She only hears what she wants to hear.
“Not always. I haven’t been happy for a long time.” Something she should’ve noticed, but as far as I can tell, hasn’t.
“It’s been rough since your dad died. It takes time.”
“There’s more to it, and you know that. Things changed for me long before Dad passed away.”
“But did you really have to leave me on your birthday and New Year’s Eve? It’s selfish when we’re supposed to go to your uncle’s to celebrate.”
There’s the word. Selfish . It took longer than I thought.
“What am I supposed to do now,” she wails. Seriously?
My heart rate spikes to a record high. “I’m being selfish? Me ? Not everything is about you, Mom. Yeah, I could’ve told you sooner, but you would’ve done everything possible to convince me it was a bad idea. Like everything else I’ve tried to do to get me out of this funk. This is a birthday present to myself. Do something with Andy—he’s right there with you!”
I’m no longer cold from the brisk, damp weather outside. I tug off the forest green scarf that’s smothering me like a boa constrictor and toss it over my lap.
“Since when do you talk to me this way? Where did this come from? Did I do something wrong?”
Andy clears his throat in the background like he wants to say something, but I answer first. “No, Mom. Well, not directly,” I mumble.
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
Before this gets really heated, I continue. “Listen, I’m done here. You heard what I had to say. I don’t want to talk anymore. Give me the space I want and need. It’ll be the best birthday present for me. I can’t think with you hovering over me all the time. I’m not a child.”
“Well, you’re certainly acting like one,” she fires back. “Running away like a little girl.”
I grab the pillow next to me and squeeze it like a stress ball. “No. If anyone’s being a child, it’s you. You can’t handle me doing something without your knowledge. And what I’m doing is taking control of my life again. I’m thirty and not proud of who I’ve become or how I’m living. A milestone birthday and the start of a new year is perfect for making changes. It’s time for me to live again.”
“You go, girl,” Andy cheers. Mom mutters something to him I can’t distinguish. I hear a scuffle, then Andy whines, “ Ouch. Olive, Mom hit me!” He lays it on thick. I love him to death.
“Stop playing games, Andrew,” Mom warns.
Boisterous laughter in the lobby catches my attention. I turn my head to see what’s going on and cover my mouth. How loud was I? I hope they didn’t hear me. A woman and man are standing by the Christmas tree watching something on a phone. They guffaw again and slap their hands over their mouths. When’s the last time I laughed like that?
Even from a distance, I’m drawn to the guy’s beautiful hair. It’s thick with loose, shoulder-length, ruffled curls. I try to avert my gaze, but I can’t. Long hair on men is a weakness of mine. If only I could see his face. Quick glimpses of his profile are all I get from this angle. The man peeks around the Christmas tree, searching for someone or something near the front desk. He shakes his head and pulls on the woman’s sleeve, then they sneak away, giggling.
Once they’re out of sight, I drop my head back again. Sadness washes over my tired body, loneliness trailing behind.
“Olivia, are you listening to me?” And Olivia it is again.
“Not really.”
“Well, I won’t repeat myself other than your uncle is going to be very disappointed in you.” He won’t care because he’s part of the reason I left. There’s going to be a handful of people there, mostly Uncle Bruce’s friends and employees. Andy’s only going to this party to ease the blow after my escape. I won’t be missing anything.
“Uncle Bruce already knows.”
She gasps. “Bruce knows? Wow…that hurts, Olivia. That really hurts.” Her voice cracks.
“Don’t cry, Mom. I’m not trying to upset you.” A sniffle travels through the line. I clear my throat. Stay strong. Guilt loves to torture me. “It’s time for you to live again too. I’m not the only one who needs a change. You need to find yourself, and it won’t work if we’re constantly together. It’s time to stand on your own two feet. That hasn’t happened since you married Dad over thirty-five years ago.”
Someone enters the room. I glance over and catch my breath. It’s the guy who was by the Christmas tree. His large friendly eyes are a unique shade of honey that complement his gorgeous wild hair. Hints of copper in the golden-brown mane shimmer under the overhead lighting like a regal lion’s mane. I could admire him all day?—
Well…as long as I don’t look below his nose. What’s with the horrendous mustache? I know they’re trying to make a comeback, but this doesn’t suit him at all. Granted, it’s not dominant on his face because of the color, but still.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says with a velvety tone, then points to the fireplace. “This needs some attention.” Ooh, his voice is sexy as sin, creating even more of a delicious distraction. I nod and watch him place a couple of logs on the fire. My attention’s fully on him, not my mom blubbering on the phone. He grabs a poker and shifts the wood. Dislodged ashes fly up the chimney, and embers fall onto the marble hearth.
I prop my elbow on the armrest, cradle my head in my hand, and enjoy the delightfully unexpected view. “Hey, Mom, I need to go. I’m sorry again for escaping last minute on my birthday and New Year’s, but I need to get checked in here.”
She huffs. “All right. None of this sits well with me. I’m not even sure I’ll go to the party tonight now. I don’t like that you’re alone and won’t tell me where you are. Can you at least tell me when you’ll be back?”
“In a week.”
“A week?” she shouts. I pull the phone away from my ear. You’d think I said a month. “Seven days? What about your job?”
Lion Guy peeks over his shoulder at me, a subtle crease between his eyebrows. I guess he heard her too. Our eyes connect, and I think he’s concerned. I look away quickly, embarrassed.
I give her a couple seconds to vent, then interrupt. “My job is not your concern, and yes—a week. Accept it. Can you please do that for me?”
I finished my last project a couple of days before Christmas. The next one starts in February. Free time is all I have, and I’m going to use it for more than sitting in sweatpants twenty-four hours a day, streaming romance movies, and fantasizing about some dream guy arriving at my apartment as if I’d ordered him from DoorDash.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll try to respect your wishes,” she says through gritted teeth. “Please promise you’ll call me later. And remember—don’t talk to strangers.”
I can’t listen to this shit anymore! I clench my jaw and take a calming breath. It’s funny how she doesn’t talk to Andy like this.
“No strangers. Got it.”
I’m well aware of the irony as I continue to watch the gorgeous stranger in front of me brush the fallen ashes into a pan. This may be the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen. It’s not just his hair that allures me. It’s his exposed toned forearms and the way his back muscles contract in his slim white button-down shirt when he sweeps up the mess. He turns his head, and the sharp curve of his jawline begs me to trace it with my finger. Is it me, or has it gotten hotter in here? I’m pretty sure it’s not because of the crackling fire.
He’s the first man to grab my attention in a long time. I’m talking years. Pheromones are practically pouring out of my skin, trying to latch on to him. They drop to the floor in defeat when he stands and leaves the room without another glance, taking the warmth with him.
Don’t think I didn’t ogle his delectable ass on the way out.
Mom’s still talking about strangers, and I’m ready to pull my hair out. I cut her off again. “Okay. Got it, Mom. Say hi to everyone and have fun at Uncle Bruce’s. Love you.”
Before she or Andy can say anything else, I disconnect the call. I should turn it off for the entire stay or maybe throw it into the now blazing fire.
I rest my head back on the soft cushion and breathe deeply. Andy wanted me to text him after I talked to Mom, but there’s no way in hell I’m doing that now. I’m drained of energy, and my caffeine boost has fizzled out. I glance at the coffee service in the corner but decide against it. Distant laughter catches my attention again, and I already know it’s him.
He’s probably the stranger I’m not supposed to talk to. But do I care? Nope! Do I have the nerve to talk to him? Not sure.
The old me wouldn’t have hesitated.