by Ellie Wade
I feign calmness and retreat to my back floating position. Quinn lies atop the water beside me, and extends her hand toward my own. She entwines her fingers through mine and for some reason, I let her. The two of us float silently, save for the light movement of the water, and weighted breaths as our hands connect making it all so real when I don’t think either of us want it to be.
There are some things in life that are inevitable, for instance, the sun will always rise in the east and set in the west. Birds will always chirp in the newness of spring. Ice will always be cold to the touch, and water will always be wet. The earth will always circle the sun, and fire will always burn.
Quinn is my inevitable. For me, she’s always shone brightly, and, like a star, she’s a ball of fire that could possibly burn me, ruining everything I’ve worked so hard to build. But like any shooting star, she’s impossible to ignore. I find myself putting my faith in her, wishing and hoping, that we’ll work. For, I don’t know how long I can be in her presence, in her light, before I’m forced to look—at her, us, and everything we can be.
Just as one isn’t supposed to look into the sun, I’m not meant to hold my stare on Quinn for too long. Her light will blind me.
I’m not sure exactly when it happened but there’s been a shift. For years, I was content with our light-hearted flirtation knowing that it’d never be more than that. Now that I think about it, something changed between Quinn and I at Alma’s birthday party. Our words became needier, our shared breaths heavier. The air between us was charged with more than friendship. Quinn was emitting desire, I felt it. From how she looked at me, to the way her body leaned in toward mine, needing to be close—it was there.
Everything’s different, and at the same time, nothing has changed. My reasons for avoiding relationships still stand. Commitment scares me because I’m already committed to so many others. A relationship with Quinn would put nothing more than her feelings on the line whereas the relationships I have in NA, the one’s that depend on me like Clementine could mean her life if I fail.
I can’t fail.
I’m torn between what my heart wants, and maybe even needs, which is Quinn and what’s right, which is my commitment to others. Some people could do both but I’m so terrified of failing that it doesn’t seem worth the risk. But is it even a choice anymore?
Look at me. I’m out here holding hands with Quinn.
It’s already gone too far.
Quinn releases my hand and swims out deeper, and I follow. She stops, and stands to face me. The water is up to her chin.
“What are we doing, Ollie?” her plea, a mere whisper.
I tread water, circling her. “I don’t know.”
“You want to know a secret?” she asks.
I nod, pulling my lip between my teeth.
“I’m scared,” she admits.
“Me, too, Quinn.”
“Really? Of me?”
“Definitely.” I scoff. “You have the power to ruin everything.”
She furrows her brows. “I wouldn’t, though.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Well, you could destroy me like Leo did to Alma.” She gives voice to her fear and I get her hesitation. Alma’s grief over Leo’s loss was devastating. Of course that affected her.
I can’t picture myself relapsing, ever. But I don’t tell her that because maybe it’s best if whatever we’ve started ends here. “Maybe.”
“Seriously?” Her voice quakes with emotion and I realize I can’t do that to her.
I release a sigh. “No, Quinn. I’d never do that to you. There are many ways in which someone becomes an addict. Mine was circumstance. I was a kid who was prescribed too many pain pills. I had a happy childhood. I’ve never experienced abuse or trauma. And quite honestly, I have no desire to ever use again. I don’t crave it or miss it in any way. It’s been twenty years, and I’ll never go back. But you’re right to be concerned. My history will always be a part of me, and I can’t change that. Truthfully, I wouldn’t want to because it’s led to others that need me.”
She presses her lips into a line and nods, seemingly satisfied with my response.
“What do we do now?” she licks her lips and I swim toward her until our faces are mere inches apart.
“Now.” I lean toward her slowly, and plant a peck on the tip of her nose. “I take you home.”
“What?” she protests as I start swimming to shore. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” I release a chuckle.
Chapter 12
Quinn
I’m one of those people who don’t dread Mondays because I love my job, usually, and I love working. It feels good to be productive and work hard in a field I love.
And yet…when my alarm went off this morning, I grumbled, literally almost full blown yelled in protest.
Crazy thing is it’s not even Monday. Yesterday was a holiday, Labor Day, and I had the entire day to contemplate my choices. And still…the weekend needed to be longer because I need more time to process what happened.
Ollie kissed me.
Okay, so it was on the nose, and very wet because we were in water. But it was something. I know now that the feelings between us are mutual, all the feelings, both the desire and apprehension.
That peck on the nose turned me on more than my entire evening with Mason or a year with Beau. Ollie exudes ridiculous hotness. Everything that I find attractive in a man, was put into Ollie. He’s all that I’ve ever wanted, and deep within my gut tells me to give in to him, and the idea of us.
After the infamous nose kiss, Ollie and I dried off, put our clothes back on, and rode back to my house where he dropped me off. He told me that neither of us can think clearly around the other, and that we need time apart from each other to think about what it is that we want.
He had a solid point. My head is always cloudy when I’m with him. I put it off to lust but the fact is, I don’t think straight when I’m near him. He surrounds me in his Ollie bubble of perfection where I’d do anything if he asked me. I would’ve given him anything he wanted, right there in the lake without any thought to the consequences because that’s what he does to me.
I called my sister Holland last night to seek advice, and my other sister Willow happened to be over. The two of them are very close and both live within a few minutes or our parents, and are often together. Holland put me on speaker and I explained the situation with Ollie to both of them. I was honest, telling them everything I know because I wanted honest feedback. Or at least I thought I did, until they unanimously told me to stay away from Ollie. Even when I tried to expand on his good qualities, they didn’t want to hear it. They heard addict, and it was cut and dry for them after that.
They don’t know him, and how amazing he is, though. As outsiders with only a few minutes of explanation to go on, of course they would warn me not to get involved with him.
I need to talk to someone who understands.
Alma.
It so happens that today is Love’s first day of preschool, and I don’t have to be in to the office until noon. So I’m heading toward Love’s school to see that cutie on her first day, and then I hope to snag some time with my bestie because I need it.
Love was so cute as she made her way into the school with her teacher but I knew she would be. I have a handful of nieces and nephews that I adore. But if I’m being honest, I have to admit that Love’s more adorable than all of them. She’s just a beautiful little girl. She got the best traits from her parents, the very best parts.
I took Alma to this trendy new restaurant in Ann Arbor. We sit out on the patio on faux leather chairs. Sleek black table umbrellas block us from the sun. It’s a hot day for September. Fall may be around the corner but today is still screaming summer.
We order veggie and feta omelets and talk about everything. She and Amos are doing well, and I’m so happy for them. She deserves someone like Amos, someone who loves her with everything he has, and will never hurt
her. She’s been through so much pain. The universe owes her the perfect happily ever after, and it appears to be delivering.
I’m trying to decide how to bring up Ollie without bringing up Ollie. I need advice but I’m not ready to tell her that it’s Ollie simply for the fact that if it doesn’t work out or I opt not to go through with it, I don’t want anyone to feel awkward about inviting us both to events as they always have. I refuse to make this weird.
I stare at my plate, flicking around a piece of onion that’s fallen from the omelet.
“Is everything okay with you?” Alma raises a brow. “Sounded like you wanted to talk about something earlier?”
I lower my fork to the plate and drop my hands to my lap. I chew on the corner of my lip and level a gaze toward Alma. It’s now or never. “There’s someone.”
She sets her fork on the table and gives me her full attention. With a reassuring smile, she asks, “A guy, someone?”
“Yeah.” I pull in a breath. “I think I like him a lot.”
“Okay,” she draws out, squinting toward me. “I’m sensing a but?”
She knows me too well.
“I think I like him a lot, but I don’t want to.” I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, raking my teeth over the skin beneath my lip. “He’s an addict. Or was, though I think they still use present tense, so technically is. I don’t know.”
I take a few deep breaths and continue. “He’s clean and has been for almost twenty years. He’s a little older than me. I’ve been attracted to him for a while but haven’t acted on it. You know?” Alma’s eyes widen ever so slightly, perhaps wondering how old this mystery guy is or maybe realizing that she, too, knows someone who’s been clean for twenty years. If she knows I’m speaking of Ollie, she doesn’t let on, so I continue. “I mean, after what you went through…I don’t ever want to love an addict. It’s too hard. I admire you so much, Alma. I think it’s incredible—what you went through and how you came out of it stronger than before—but I don’t think that’s me. It would destroy me. I know it. I can’t take that risk.”
“Yeah.” She sighs quietly.
“He could stay clean, of course, and we could be happy. Yet there would always be that fear in the back of my mind that he’ll relapse. Leo was clean for four years, and he relapsed. It could happen.” I look at her for answers.
“It could,” she admits. “That’s the thing. You never know. Twenty years is a long time to be clean to falter, but it happens. Though, it may not. You really like him?”
“I do. God, I mean, we’ve had this flirtation thing going for a few years. Every time I give in to it just a little, I’m drawn toward him like a magnet. Seriously, everything about me craves everything about him. I’ve been fighting it because I’m so scared. I talked to a couple of my sisters, and they told me to run far away from him and fast. But they don’t understand.”
“It sounds to me like you’re wanting me to tell you to go for it,” she says.
I shrug. “Maybe I am but at the same time, I’m hoping you don’t.”
Perhaps Ollie was right, it might be easier to call it quits now before anything has happened. Is that what I want Alma to say? Do I want her to tell me that it’s not worth the risk? I find myself praying that she tells me the opposite.
“I can’t tell you what the right answer is, Quinn. You just have to follow your gut and your heart. Is this guy worth it? Is the possibility of something great worth the possibility of something horrible? Only you know that answer.”
“Would you change anything? If you knew then what you know now, would it have mattered?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. I wouldn’t have changed a thing. He was worth it.”
And just like that, I got the answer I needed to hear.
Because Ollie’s worth it, too. Deep within the most sacred part of my heart, where no man has held residence, the answer pounds loudly…he is.
Chapter 13
Quinn
Age Twenty-Three
Tears fall so hard and fast I can’t see. My hand shakes as I try to push the key into the lock. Where is the stupid keyhole? I want to scream.
I’m so furious at the world that I’m having a hard time focusing on anything. As far as funerals go, this was the worst. I would gladly walk around with days of the week panties in full view every day of my life than sit through another second of anything as awful as what I just experienced.
I can’t stop thinking about Alma and her tearful—yet incredibly brave—speech. My heart literally aches for her. I don’t know how she’s doing it, managing to go on amid so much grief.
None of this makes sense. It seems like a mere month ago we were all laughing together at Alma’s birthday. And now…
I’m so insanely furious. At the world. At Leo. Not at Leo. At Leo’s father. At the Universe. At this fucking key that refuses to go in the hole!
“Hey,” a gentle voice comes from behind me. “Hey,” Ollie says again, taking the keys from my trembling hand.
I blink away the tears, and his fuzzy face comes into view. I pull hot August air into my lungs, trying to calm my panic, but I can’t stop—the tears, the shaking, any of it. I’m a mess.
“Let me drive you home.” He slides his arm through mine and leads me around the car. He opens the passenger side door, and I get in.
Ollie slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car. I lean my head against the window. The Hardings’ blurred estate passes as Ollie drives us away from this horrible place.
No words are spoken as he drives me home. The only sounds that surround us are those of my sadness.
He pulls my car to a stop in my apartment parking lot, and an arm around my shoulder leads me inside the building and to my apartment.
“Well, I’m going to get going.” His voice is sad, and I know that this day must be killing him, too. He loved Leo.
“Stay. Just for a while. Please. I don’t want to be alone.” My plea is a broken whisper.
He nods and toes off his black leather dress shoes by the door. Removing his suit jacket, he leaves it on the entryway table and follows me into my room.
I take off my heels and climb into bed, exhausted. “Will you lay with me? I’m exhausted.”
Silently, he climbs in and scoots in behind me, his front to my back. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him.
It’s comforting.
“I’m so mad and sad,” I cry.
“Me too.”
“I’m heartbroken for Alma.”
“Yeah,” he whispers.
“And for Leo.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry, Ollie.” I squeeze his hand that’s around my waist.
“Me too.” The sorrow in his voice is palpable. “Me too.”
No more words are spoken, and my breaths even out until my dreams pull me under away from the nightmare of this reality.
When I wake, hours later, Ollie’s gone.
Chapter 14
Ollie
Cruising down the main street of my hometown brings back a wide range of emotions, and not all of them bad. This town and these people are good—a little too obsessed with sports—but decent nonetheless. Nothing that happened here was intended to send me down the path toward addiction. I wasn’t the only one who learned valuable lessons from my time as an addict.
The ride is almost an hour from Ann Arbor, not too far away that I can’t go home whenever I want, but far enough to give me some distance which, when I moved away from home initially, is what I needed.
My mother rushes out of the house the second I pull into the driveway, her arms extended out ready for her hug.
I step off the bike, and she collides with me, wrapping her arms tightly around my middle. “It’s been too long,” she says into my chest.
“Mom, it’s been a month.”
“A month too long! Now, come inside. I made all your favorites!”
All my mother ever wanted to be is a wife and mother,
and that’s what she did. She was the type of mother who always had fresh baked cookies ready for my friends when we got home from school. She went to every class party I ever had, every banquet, every PTA meeting, and every game. She was, and still is, my biggest fan.
She had complications after my delivery and had to have a hysterectomy, leaving me as a permanent only child, and while I’m sure there was a time she mourned that fact, it never showed. My mother, Christine Hale, is adored in this town. She still volunteers at the school even though I moved out almost two decades ago. She uses her giving spirit and loving nature to help others in the community.
“Bill! Look who’s home.” She pulls me into the house where my father sits in his recliner watching college football.
He turns his face from the big screen. “Hey, son. Good to see you.”
I open my mouth to reply, and he’s already turned back toward the television. My father is a good man, but our relationship isn’t very deep. There have never been any long conversations between us as he’s a man of few words.
My mom waves her hands through the air, dismissing my father’s actions. “Oh, you know him and football. Anyway, for starters we have cream cheese, dill pickle, and ham roll-ups.”
She grabs a tray of the appetizers from the refrigerator and places them on the table. “Sit. Sit.” She motions. “These were your absolute favorite when you were young. There was a time you could’ve lived off nothing but these when you were about nine. Remember?”
“I do. You packed these every day in my lunch for a year in fourth grade.” I chuckle.
“Well, I had to. You would’ve thrown a fit had I not.”
“Remember what I else I was obsessed with?”
“Cheesecake!” She laughs. “Don’t worry. I made one of those for you, too.”
I shake my head and toss a ham roll-up into my mouth. “You’re too good to me, Mom. So what’s got you taking a walk down memory lane of my fourth-grade year?”
She fills up two glasses with iced tea and takes a seat at the table across from me. “Well, the other day, the movie Beethoven was playing on one of the cable channels. Remember, I took you and all your friends to see it in the theater for your tenth birthday over spring break of your fourth grade year. You loved that movie, and begged us for a Saint Bernard for a solid year after that.”
