28. Olive
28
OLIVE
S aying goodbye was tougher than I expected. But it was also easier because my damn alarm didn’t go off. I had a whole half hour to gather my things and check out of the hotel. Our goodbye was short and sweet. Too short, but that was probably better for the both of us. I didn’t break down until I was on the ferry. That wasn’t the best situation because I had to leave my car and go up to the deck, but I found a seat in a corner by a window and faced outside.
There’s a weird emptiness inside me, yet a bubbling anticipation too. And I’m overflowing with motivation. I accomplished quite a few goals this week. Of course, I didn’t expect to add a new one to the list. Still, I’ll do anything to prepare for a life with Leo.
The first thing to do is find a therapist. It’s time to confront the aftermath of working in a hospital during the pandemic, the guilt that latched on to me when I quit, the hole that was left when Dad died, and my relationship with Mom. I need to find coping mechanisms for when things get out of hand.
And deep down, I know I have to go to LA to confront my demons.
I turn on my blinker as my apartment complex comes into view. It’s white but looks gray from years of neglect. It has three levels with four apartments on each floor. It looks the same as it did a week ago, I know, but somehow, it’s more depressing and ugly. The damp, cloudy weather doesn’t help. It’s hard to come back to reality after staying in a beautiful hotel for a week.
I park, then sit there in silence, delaying the inevitable. I’m afraid that when I step through the door into that familiar but disheartening atmosphere, the weight of my past will come rushing back.
I lift my wrist to my nose, sniff, and relax. Before I left Leo’s cottage, I sprayed myself with his cologne. (Don’t tell anyone this, but I ordered a travel-sized bottle for myself too. It should get here tomorrow. If that’s the one thing I can have of him until I see him again, I’ll take it.)
Now that I think of it, I should have stolen a T-shirt to sleep in too. Damn.
I grab my phone and send Leo a message, letting him know I’m home. He responds seconds later with a picture of him, Sully, and Tonya. They’re surrounded by boxes and holding up martini glasses. What are they doing?
Too bad Andy moved away. It’d be nice to—no, I’m not sad that nobody’s waiting for me in my apartment. I start to respond to Leo, then decide not to. We’d keep texting, and I’d end up staying in my car the whole time. I’ll respond once I’m settled.
A few minutes later, I unlock my door on the third floor and trudge inside, fatigue kicking in. I look around my two-bedroom apartment and…it feels different. The air is stuffy from being closed up for a week. An extra layer of dust has settled on the furniture and everything is stock-still. I hear nothing, not even the neighbors. Normally, I prefer quiet and seclusion, but this feels eerie after having been surrounded by people all week.
Leaving the suitcase in the middle of the living room, I carry the bag of food I bought on the way home to the kitchen. If I want to stay awake, I need some strong coffee. I start a pot while I put the groceries away and sort out my suitcase. When it’s ready, I pour a steaming cup and sit on my comfy recliner. The one piece of furniture I really like.
I text Andy before I do Mom. I need his positivity right now. A video call comes through seconds later. Someone’s curious. Let’s see if he notices my new hair color. I’ve hardly told him anything in our text exchanges this week.
I can’t hide my smile when I see his familiar face. Why can’t he be here? “Hey there, big brother!”
“Shh. Wait a second, Ol. I was in a meeting and called for a fifteen-minute break because I had to make an important call. Let me close my office door.” No matter how busy he is, his family comes first. It’s amazing how he can change from tough businessman to goofy brother in just a few seconds.
While he moves around, his jumpy phone screen makes my head spin. I stop watching and grab the blanket from the back of the recliner and drape it over my lap. Finally, he settles in his office chair and props the phone against something.
“Okay, I’m ready. Welcome back!” His enthusiasm to see me brightens my mood. It’s nice to know you’re loved.
I flash a bright smile and fluff my hair. “What do you think? Do I look different?”
“You’re much happier than last time. Show me your back. Did you lose the shell?”
“I’m proud to report it’s gone, and it’s never coming back.”
He leans closer. “Wait a sec. Did you dye your hair?”
I pull my hair forward to show him the dyed ends. “I had a little makeover while I was there. Bought some new clothes and shoes too. You’re looking at the new, improved me. You’d be proud.”
“I want details because it’s obvious you were holding out on me with your ‘I’m fine’ texts. You’re more than fine, sis. So was it worth it?”
“Above and beyond. It was the best week of my life, Andy. I’m so thankful I went.” I sound lovesick. I might as well be throwing flowers in the air.
His eyes bug out of his head. “Holy shit! You met someone, didn’t you?” He snaps his fingers. “Oh, the guy in the picture, right? What was his name again?”
“Yes,” I squeal. “His name’s Leo, and he’s amazing.”
“Sounds like someone’s in luuurve. Your face is as bright as a lightbulb.”
I wiggle in my seat, finding it hard to contain my excitement.
“How? When? What? Give me the details. And again, does he have a sister?”
“You’re a freak. Yes, he does, and no, she’s not your type. She’d eat you alive.”
He growls. “I kinda like that.”
I grimace. “I don’t want to know.” He flashes me a shit-eating grin. “Anyway, there’s a lot to tell you, but I’ll wait until you have more time. Just know that I feel amazing, and the decision to run away has changed my life.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He glances at his watch. “I hate living in San Fran sometimes. I’d love to show up at your apartment whenever I wanted. I’m going to have to wait to get the dirty details because I have to go back to the stupid meeting. I’m happy for you, Olive. I told you something amazing was going to happen. You deserve it.”
I twist a strand of hair around my finger. “Thanks. Call me when you can.”
“Quick question. Have you called Mom?”
“Not yet. I was waiting until I spoke to you. Any advice?” I ask, dreading his response.
He smooths out his hair and adjusts his navy blue paisley tie. “Umm…be honest with her and don’t let her bring you down. Personally, I think she needs therapy or some kind of support group, but what do I know? Maybe she’ll surprise us.”
“If you talk to her, don’t mention Leo unless she does. I’m not sure what I’m going to tell her yet. I think I should keep him a secret for now,” I say, nibbling on my thumb.
He picks up the phone and hurries to the door. “Nuh-uh. Back up. No secrets. This is your life . You’re happy, and you shouldn’t have to hold back your excitement. Moms should be uplifting and want to see their kids thriving and happy.” Marla said something similar.
“Listen to you! Have you been reading self-help books or something?”
His brows furrow. “I have no clue where that came from, but it’s true. Okay, I really gotta run. Talk soon. Love ya.”
“Love you too,” I say, too late. He’s already gone.
No secrets . Andy’s right. If Mom can’t be happy for me, then that’s her problem.
Maybe I’m being too hard on her.
I call her an hour later, but it’s the shortest call in history. Fifteen minutes later, my doorbell rings as I’m wiping down the kitchen counter. I take a deep breath and pray for help and patience…and then I swing open the door, a smile plastered on my face.
“Hey, Mom. How are?—”
She cuts me off with a bone-crushing hug. Wow, she’s thrilled to see me. That makes me hug her even longer. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.
But when she finally lets go of me and steps back, her eyes are shooting daggers. “Never do that to me again! Running off like that and then not talking to me for a week? I was worried sick. And then only getting brief messages from you. And you ignoring mine. God forbid you picked up the phone.” She rages on and on.
I touch my cheek like she slapped my face and close the door. My neighbors don’t need to hear this. Here I thought she was happy to see me. When she grabbed me in that hug, I even thought maybe she understood why I left. Nope.
You knew she’d be this way. I think quickly about how to respond to her. “Mom,” I finally say, “I don’t want to fight with you as soon as you come through the door. And I’m sorry I upset you, but I did what I had to do to save myself.”
With her chin held high, she sniffs. “You’re forgiven.”
My eyebrows cling to my hairline, and my blood begins to boil. It’s always about her—everything. She doesn’t care how I’m doing. Yeah, she was worried, but about what? Obviously, the talks with Uncle Bruce and Andy did nothing.
I need to stay level-headed. Look at the situation from both sides. At least, that’s what I try to do. Think of Leo and how you feel at peace when you’re with him. And stand up for yourself!
“I don’t need your forgiveness.”
Her eyes flash with something, but it’s hard to tell what. I keep going.
“This week away was a real eye-opener, and I’m beyond happy I went. And nobody—not even you—is gonna take that away from me. I’m a different person now.”
“Someone who is disrespectful to her mother.”
Okay. That’s it . The gloves are off.
“Do you hear yourself? If someone’s being disrespectful, it’s you. Everything is always about you. Did you hear anything about why I left? Did you not see how I was hiding in my apartment most of the time, miserable and antisocial? On the verge of depression? I just turned thirty, Mom, and I was living like I was sixty. I should be having the time of my life. Instead, I hid and let you feed into my misery. Thankfully, Andy confronted me and convinced me to snap out of it.”
“You think I want to see you miserable?”
“If you don’t, then what is this? Ever since Dad died, you’ve attached yourself to me. All your focus went to me, and I liked it at the time. But eventually, others saw how unhealthy it was, the way you hung on me. Pampering me but not trying to lift me up. Could you not see how miserable I was? That I had no life? Or did you enjoy my reliance on you because you couldn’t focus all your energy on Dad?”
Her head snaps back. “That’s not fair.”
“You know what’s not fair? That the first thing you did when you saw me is treat me like I’m a teenager who stayed out all night and didn’t call. How hard is it for you to ask me how I’m doing, how my week was?” My voice cracks.
She props one hand on her hip and points at me with the other, her eyes piercing mine. “Did you ever stop to think that I was as miserable as you? It wasn’t just your dad who died. My husband and soulmate died! He’s the only man I ever loved and he was by my side every second of every day—until suddenly, he wasn’t. Because I wasn’t there”
“I know that, Mom. You were grieving. And you still are. But you can’t do that by smothering me and making me feel bad for wanting a life of my own. That won’t bring him back, and it won’t make you happy again. You have to deal with his absence and learn to stand on your own two feet.”
“So I’m supposed to forget about my dead husband.” She turns away, her nose held high. “I can’t turn off my feelings like you did.”
“You know what, Mom, you can throw anything you want at me right now. I didn’t tell you to forget about Dad because I haven’t either. But you need to move on. It’s time to find yourself—the woman who’s now on her own. Make yourself the priority.”
She shakes her head manically. “Fine. You don’t want me around, I’ll go. I got your message loud and clear. I won’t bother you again.”
I stand frozen in the middle of my living room as she storms out, slamming the door behind her. What the fuck was that? She pinned everything on me. Again. She’s in denial. I need to read up on the stages of grief.
Exhaustion overwhelms me. I drop into the recliner and bury my head in my hands. I probably should’ve gone after her, but what would I have said that I didn’t already? Maybe I’ll call Uncle Bruce to find out what he discussed with her and how she reacted. Not now though.
This is exactly why I didn’t want to come home.
I grab my phone and type a text to Andy on the way to my bedroom. He’s probably out to dinner or entertaining someone.
Me: Catastrophe! Stormed out of my place. Didn’t tell her about Leo. No chance.
I toss the phone on my bed and collapse face down beside it. A couple of seconds later, it chirps.
Andy: Don’t let it get you down. We’ll figure out what to do. Can’t call because I’m at a business dinner with potential clients.
I respond with a thumbs-up and stuff a pillow under my head. Sleep is out of the question; it’s only dinnertime. Instead of getting up, I flip through the pictures I took this week. I grin ear to ear even as my eyes blur. One teardrop slips out and slides down the side of my face into my hair. How can I miss someone so much who I’ve only known for one week? How will I survive several weeks without seeing or touching him? Another text comes in from Andy, interrupting my pity party.
Andy: Before I forget. Super Bowl party at my place. You’re coming!
What? Watch the Super Bowl at his place in San Francisco? I huff. Then realization dawns. Of course—he wants everyone to watch his commercial the first time with him. A week ago, I would’ve said no. Times are changing. An idea strikes, and I sit up on my bed. Maybe Leo can meet me there between his trips. I know he’s supposed to be in California at some point.
Me: Count me in.
Andy: Bring lover boy.
Me: Already thinking about it.
Even if Leo can’t go, I will anyway. I have to keep my high going somehow.