Chapter 5
five
The party was winding down some when Olivia’s dad suggested she head home before him to surprise her mom, adding, “And you can let her know to expect a houseguest.”
She already knew that Dad had invited Malcolm to stay overnight at their house.
Although she was pleasantly surprised by her father’s hospitality, she wasn’t sure it was a good idea.
But how could she cancel this plan without looking inhospitable to Malcolm?
Although it seemed unfair of Dad to make her spring it on Mom, she agreed.
Bracing herself, she thanked her host and made the short trek home, silently praying with each step.
Maybe Mom would be okay with it. After all, she prided herself on being the perfect hostess .
. . well, when it was a guest she’d invited.
Never with those messy McEntires, as her mom liked to call them.
“Olivia!” Jane exclaimed as Olivia came quietly into the house.
“What on earth are you doing here?” She peered out the front window.
“I didn’t see your car. But you probably had to park on the next block thanks to those neighbors.
” She scowled out the window. “That red SUV has its wheels in my planting strip.”
Olivia glanced outside. “But it’s only on the bark, not hurting the bushes.”
“Yes, but if it were summer, I’d have annuals growing there.
” Jane’s tone was sharper than usual. “I’m hoping and praying they’ll sell their place before next summer.
That house is too big for just two people, and they’re both in their sixties now.
It’ll be hard to keep it up. Not that they ever did.
” Her brow creased as she turned back to Olivia, then broke into a smile.
“I’m sorry, honey. Listen to me going on like that.
” She gave her daughter a stiff hug. “It’s wonderful to see you.
I have some dinner I can warm up. I made it for your dad, but he’s been next door all day, so I finally put it in the fridge. ”
“I already ate, but thanks.” Olivia didn’t mention it was the McEntires’ house she’d eaten at. No sense poking a hornet’s nest.
“Well, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Jane’s head tilted to one side. “Did you lose your job?”
“No, nothing like that.” Olivia glanced toward the kitchen. “I could use a cup of tea.”
“Of course.” Jane linked her arm in Olivia’s. “I just got a new herbal tea I haven’t even tried.”
As her mom fussed about the immaculate kitchen, Olivia sat at the breakfast bar, planning her words. Finally, the tea was set down, along with some store-bought chocolate mint cookies.
Olivia sipped her tea. “This is good, Mom. I’ll have to get the name before I leave.”
“Yes, of course. How long can you stay?”
“We have to go back tomorrow.”
“We?” Jane’s thin brows arched. “Who’s with you?”
“I, uh, got a ride here with Malcolm McEntire.”
Jane’s eyes grew large. “You mean, Malcolm next door McEntire?”
Olivia explained how they’d crossed paths several months ago. “I couldn’t believe it when he was the vet treating Shannon’s cat.”
“Shannon?”
“Just a work friend. Anyway, there was Malcolm, looking so grown-up and handsome in his vet jacket. The next thing I knew, we were meeting for coffee and laughing about old times.”
“Old times?”
“Oh, you know. Growing up next door. I spent a lot of time at their house. They were so fun and loud . . . it was kind of like belonging to a big family.”
Her mom’s scowl returned as she folded and refolded the pretty floral cocktail napkin. “So, you came home with Malcolm McEntire.”
“Yes, at the last minute he wanted to make an appearance for his mom’s birthday.”
She grimly nodded. “And he’s over there at Cindy’s now? And you’ll ride back to the city with him tomorrow?”
“That’s right.” Olivia bit into a cookie, ignoring the fact it tasted like flavored sawdust in her mouth. She could tell that somehow her mother had suspected something. Perhaps Cindy had given hints. But why this cat and mouse game? What did her mother hope to gain from it?
Jane looked intently at Olivia. “So . . . is this, um, this friendship just that? A friendship? Or is there more going on?”
Olivia washed the cookie bite down with tea then shrugged. “I’m not totally sure, Mom. But I know I like him . . . a lot. And he seems to like me.”
“Olivia. Of all the men on the planet, you would have to get involved with a McEntire. Was this intentional? A way to hurt me?”
“Oh, Mom.” Olivia took in a calming breath. “The McEntires are wonderful people. I was just in their home, and it was filled with love and laughter and good food. I wish you’d gone over there for Cindy’s—”
“Please, you sound like your father now.” Jane stood, carrying her teacup and dish to the sink, where she rinsed and re-rinsed the china.
“Speaking of Dad . . .” Olivia decided to just bite the bullet. “He invited Malcolm to stay in our guest room tonight. He wanted me to tell you.”
Jane spun around with a dropped jaw. “What—”
“Speak of the devil,” Olivia interrupted.
“That sounds like them now.” She eagerly stood and went out to greet them, giving her father a warning glance.
“I just told Mom to expect a guest.” She smiled at Malcolm, noticing a bundle under his arm.
“I see you brought some overnight things. How about I show you the guest room.” Tugging his elbow, she led him upstairs, trying to ignore the sound of her parents’ voices downstairs.
Not that they were loud, but she could hear the sharpness in Mom’s tone and the defensiveness in Dad’s.
Thankfully, Malcolm looked oblivious. Or maybe he was just being polite.
“I’ve never been up here before.” Malcolm looked around the immaculate guest room, recently redecorated in shades of creamy white and pale green. “Pretty room.” He set his bundle on a chair.
“Uh-huh.” She nervously pretended to level a pastel floral painting that was already perfectly straight.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem uneasy.”
“Well, you know.” She turned to face him. “My mom . . . she can be . . .”
“A little difficult.” His smile looked slightly stiff. “Believe me, I know, Olivia. Maybe it’s not a good idea for me to be here. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor at my house.”
She felt a surge of fresh resolve. “No, my dad is absolutely right. This is his house, too, and he invited you. And it’s my home.
” She smoothed a hand over the creamy white down comforter, knowing her mother always chose the very best. “And I know for a fact this is a very comfortable bed. My mother would never settle for anything less.” Even in her guest room.
Not that she practiced much hospitality.
Her mom’s obsession over perfection had always scared off visitors.
Olivia bit her lip in frustration, imagining all that could go wrong with Malcolm’s overnight visit, and how her mother could scare him off too.
“Don’t worry,” he assured her, as if reading her thoughts.
“I’ll be on my best behavior.” He pursed his lips.
“Although I gotta admit, all these light-colored furnishings and linens do make me a little nervous. I promise not to put my dirty feet on anything.” He chuckled, but she suspected he wasn’t kidding, and as they went downstairs, where her parents were now actually arguing, Malcolm excused himself to go back to his house.
“I promised my siblings that I’d play some new trivia game with them. I used to win at Trivial Pursuit, and apparently my sister Jocelyn wants to challenge me.” He looked at Olivia. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
Olivia glanced at her mother and, seeing a frown of disapproval, she thanked him and declined, promising to leave the door unlocked for him. But when Malcolm left, she wished she was with him. She would’ve preferred sleeping on a floor over there over the most comfortable bed in her parents’ home.
***
After a restless night’s sleep, Olivia got up early and dressed.
But before leaving her old bedroom, she neatly put everything back into place.
No point in rocking Mom’s boat any more than necessary.
As she made her bed, she tried not to replay last night’s conversation—make that inquisition—with her mom.
Dad had wisely retired early, but he’d still been clearly upset by his wife’s unreasonable behavior.
Olivia had been too. But she’d tried to reason with her mom, even suggesting she might need professional help.
But that just made everything worse, until Olivia had to excuse herself to bed too.
She didn’t hear Malcolm sneaking quietly into the house until close to midnight, but after he got safely to his room, she went down to check the door and turn out the lights.
Didn’t want to leave anything for Mom to complain about the next day.
The house still seemed quiet as she crept down the stairs, but unless it was hopeful imagining, she smelled coffee coming from the kitchen. And since her mom avoided caffeine, Olivia suspected her dad was up early.
“Good morning,” she said quietly from behind him, making him jump.
“Oh, it’s you.” He smiled. “Thought it was your mom.”
“I kept her up pretty late last night,” she confessed. “Hopefully she’s sleeping in.”
“Hopefully.” His smile faded. “Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, she didn’t sleep too well last night. Tossed and turned into the wee hours.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. Maybe I shouldn’t have—”
“This is not your fault, Olivia.” He looked intently into her eyes. “Your mother’s . . . preferences have gotten more and more extreme, and I’m the one who invited Malcolm.”
“I know. But just the fact that I’m dating Malcolm is so hard on her. It’s almost as if she thinks I purposely did this to upset her.”
He nodded. “Uh-huh. Seems par for the course.” He reached for the coffee pot. “Want some high-octane joe?”
“Absolutely.” She went to fridge to look for cream and settled for 2 percent milk. “Mom must still be on her no-fat kick. Doesn’t she know that some fats are good for us?”