by Kit Graves
“I’m going back to the company,” Thom continued. “For good this time. I’d like to repay you for what you’ve spent on your education, take over any future payments. Maybe even grad school, if you’d like to go.”
“I’m okay, Dad, I’m working,” Olivia insisted.
“No, let me help you,” he insisted right back.
“I don’t - I’m fine on my own, Dad. I’ve been working really hard to be.”
Thom sighed and let go of her arm. “I know you have. I’m proud of your work, hon, and I’m so sorry for my part in giving you that need for independence. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t step up more for you. I wish things had been different, that I’d been more of a support to you. You’re a grown woman now, and this is one of the only ways I can still offer that support.”
“Dad,” Olivia said, feeling lost. Aromatic smoke curled around them, sweet and thick. “Like I said, I’m fine on my own.”
Thom’s steady eyes locked her in place. “No, hon. For the first time in a long time, I’ve realized that no one is fine on their own. It took me a long time to find the right kind of company, but I wasn’t managing without it, you know that. I wish you would date again. Or come over for dinner more often, Eva would love it, I think. She never had her own kids, and I know she’s not - I know she’s not Mom-”
“Dad,” Olivia repeated, horrified that Thom seemed on the verge of tears.
“Sorry, Olivia.” He paused for a moment. Olivia looked past him into the night, the lights of cars on the road below like fireflies in the distance. “I understand why you’ve kept your distance, I really do. I’m even glad you didn’t have to see me at my lowest. I understand if you’re angry with me, if you’ve hated me.”
“Never-" Olivia interrupted, but he continued.
“I’m so proud of what you’ve been able to accomplish. So proud. Just… know I’m here. And please think about what I said.”
Olivia hugged him, and he wrapped her up. Laughter rose up from inside, and for a moment, she was perfectly content.
Chapter 7
School the next day was bliss. Leftover happiness leaked into Olivia’s mood even as she took a pop quiz on elements of genre. Things felt steady, stable. Like her family was rock solid underneath her again. George was leaving town in a few more days, and she actually found herself looking forward to the concert. Tiffany was going to lend her a dress, Winnie was going to braid her hair, and Laurel had promised under pain of doing everyone’s dishes not to ditch them all at the first sign of manflesh.
Olivia even went to the off-campus bookstore when she was finished, spending a few delicious hours ensconced in aisles of bestsellers, classics, and pulpy romance covers. She pulled a few of each off the shelves and curled into a chair with a tea to flip through them. She ended up buying a paperback copy of Villette and another book that began a fantasy series about vampires and witches. It felt exquisitely naughty to waste time and money on books that weren’t required for class. Idly, she wondered what she’d do for a masters dissertation, and even that thought was an indulgence.
She even stopped off to get a refill on her tea on the way out. For her, it was a decadent afternoon.
She wasn’t scheduled for work that day, but a coworker texted her when she was about to head home. Her kids needed picking up from school, and her husband couldn’t leave his job site. Olivia shrugged inwardly - she had just spent some money, after all. No harm in making that back before dinner.
Her coworker Ally was waiting, coat in hand, when Olivia arrived. “Go!” Olivia waved her away, laughing a little. “Get those babies!”
“Thank you so much, Olivia, you’re the best. It’s just until eight, I promise!”
“It’s no problem, Ally. Get out of here!”
Waving, she did. Olivia got settled and pulled the books out of her purse, trying to choose one. Literary or contemporary romance? Maybe contemporary. She could use a little.
The sun had started to sink a little by the time traffic picked up again. It was that time of day that everything seemed to be covered in molten gold, every detail brought up against the sky in a high contrast of color. It was beautiful, but Olivia was busy. Traffic always picked up right before the weekend, commuters sneaking out of town early or headed into the city for dinner, shows, dates. She envied them a little, but didn’t have much time for those ugly feelings. She was too busy chirping at customers. Like a stupid dove, he was right. And he’d also said a pretty one… Soon there were more than she could handle quickly, and she was beginning to hope it would wind down, her smile starting to stay on through sheer willpower.
Come on, twenty more minutes like this, that’s all it will be. Just get through it.
When Harlan came up in her line, Olivia was almost frustrated to see him. She didn’t have time. “Hi Harlan!” she said anyway, trying her best not to sound stressed. “How have you been?”
“Oh, I’m just fine,” he rumbled up at her. “You? Lot of cars for one little dove.”
“It will calm down soon,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt about it. “I’m sorry that I can’t talk more, though.”
“I’ll see you next time,” he promised. It definitely sounded like a promise, anyway.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Olivia said before she could think. Instantly, she blushed. Damn! Now she’d be red all over. He grinned at her though, perfect teeth in a crooked smile, and she found herself smiling back through the embarrassment.
She was still smiling after him when she heard the crash.
One car, not accounting for the evening rush, had barreled toward her line of cars unseen. By the time a driver looked into their rearview mirror and honked, it had been too late - seconds later, a screeching ended in a heavy slamming sound. There was a pop, rain like hundreds of little plastic pieces going everywhere, a woman’s scream.
It was the scream that did it.
Olivia shook like she’d been hit by a car too. She couldn’t take in what she was seeing, could barely see at all. The chaos and the noise and the burnt metal smell of the air nearly made her pass out. It seemed like she was high, pumped on adrenaline, and yet unable to move. Utterly unable to help.
She was useless, useless, she didn’t deserve to be here like this, she couldn’t help them, she couldn’t help anyone, and everyone was gone…
She saw console lights go on as people leapt from their cars. She saw smoke, the balloon of an airbag. She saw Harlan, it had to be him, racing toward the collision.
And then she didn’t see anything.
Chapter 8
“Olivia. Olivia. Olivia, can you hear me? Little dove. Olivia.”
Olivia was curled into a ball on the floor of the toll booth. Her joints ached from how small she was squeezing herself, folded up too many times for someone of her height. More than the stiffness was the fear, though, blinding her to everything else but her panic.
“Little dove.” She felt arms curl around her, and was pulled inexorably against a wall of a chest. She hid her face in it, not ready to emerge yet. “Everyone’s okay, dove, but they’re going to take the ambulance. Are you okay? Do you need one?”
Olivia shook her head. She didn’t trust her voice, but she had to try. “I have to - “ she cleared her throat, hating the tears in her voice. “The booth.”
“What’s your boss’ name?”
She told him and he reached past her, adjusting her weight against him and using his other arm to swoop her books into her bookbag. Somehow he dug out her phone, and she could hear his side of the conversation as he filled her boss in. Her replacement was on their way, so he got permission to leave the booth open until then, as police were still on site and directing traffic. It sounded like they’d taken over from Harlan when they’d arrived, and the ambulance as well.
Harlan carried her to his bike, which he’d parked around the corner of the booth, so she didn’t have to see what had happened. “Stay here,” he said quietly, setting her
on the seat. She hugged herself again, but sat in place, staring down at the bike between her legs. It was a bizarre, unfamiliar sight, and only added to her sense of unreality. She could hear voices again, Harlan and some others. It sounded like he was giving the police her name and the information that the booth would be free until another attendant arrived. She saw him shaking hands with an EMT before jogging back over to her. He hurried back, pulling her against his chest again and placing a helmet on top of her head before wrapping his arms around her. “They don’t need you. One car had a dash cam, they’ll contact your boss for the security footage, and you’re gonna be off work tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” she sniffed, repeating after him automatically. She felt fucking pathetic, sniveling and half-present, and when he asked her another question she said “okay” again without listening.
It appeared she’d agreed to go somewhere, but couldn’t even find it in her to be curious as he tucked her in against him and started up the bike. Instead she leaned back against him and closed her eyes, letting the cool air of the evening move through her lungs and dry the sweat on her forehead.
For the second time that week, Olivia found herself at the Starlite Diner. It was nearby, after all, and just as it had been the perfect place to laugh with George it felt like the perfect place to hide weepily in a corner. She leaned against Harlan as they walked in, all sense of impropriety gone. She felt like she could still hear the woman screaming, the crash of cars.
When they sat down, they were quiet for a moment. Olivia said she wasn’t hungry, but Harlan made her eat one of the fluffy cinnamon rolls they kept on the front countertop, and she ate it faster than she had thought possible. They ordered cocoa afterward, getting comfortable without saying a word.
Harlan was patient, not breaking the silence, letting it stretch on until it became more comfortable. The background noises were soothing: humming lights, kitchen sounds, forks on plates. The low conversations of the one or two other couples at the diner. Not that they were a couple.
“Are you an EMT or something?” Olivia asked, thinking of how he’d dived right in, even as she panicked and froze.
“No, no,” Harlan said, sounding regretful. “Ex-military. Guess I’ve just been too conditioned to run in when something is going wrong instead of running away.”
“Oh, military, that makes sense.” She meant about his size, but his hand went to his scars. She shook her head, abashed. “I meant, you know, you’re a big guy.”
He laughed. The sound warmed and soothed the spikes of ice and unease that still felt like they were puncturing her stomach. “I know. I’m a management consultant now, but I started out as a personal trainer. Then I ran the gym. Then I helped other people run their gyms… now I consult on gym management structures, which pays better, but I miss being on the floor all day. I still drop in as a guest at my friend’s facility. Kind of jealous of him most days - he’s on the mats, I’m in the office. Been opening a new place these last few weeks.”
“That explains why you don’t keep to a normal schedule,” Olivia realized aloud. His responding smile was warm, pleased.
“You been looking out for me?”
“I - I just noticed.” She dipped her head to take a sip of the cocoa. It was delicious, clearly made from instant mix and with canned whipped cream, but it suffused her with strength.
“I want you to know I’m not weak or anything,” Olivia managed, feeling she had to say it, even if the sudden weakness in her voice didn’t sound convincing. “I have a good reason for reacting like that, I um. My, um.” She shook her head, feeling too stuffy with unshed tears to finish.
“Let’s swap stories next time,” he said gently, reaching out with one crooked finger. For a moment she thought he was going to touch her lips, but he swiped some whipped cream off her nose, instead.
Olivia blushed.
Harlan smiled at her, and she didn’t feel embarrassed. So there will be a next time.
They talked about school instead. Harlan didn’t seem judgemental of the fact that Olivia was still a student: in fact, he confessed that he had barely finished high school, and had always meant to use the GI Bill to get a business degree. When he had worked his way up without it, that goal fell by the wayside, and he seemed to admire her for not giving up on it. It made Olivia flush with pleasure, feel like someone had finally let her admit how hard not quitting had been.
It turned out that Harlan had read a lot in the military, “with no one to write to or dream about,” he claimed, although she found that hard to believe. “If I tried to socialize too much, guys just tried to square up and fight. There are a lot of people in this world, and more of them in the army, who’ll take on the biggest guy in the room just to say he did. No honor in beating them up, either, even if that wouldn’t have gotten me brought up on charges.” He shook his head. “John was really my only friend.”
He’d seen the covers of her books when he’d helped scoop her things up, but confessed that he wasn’t too into romance himself. He did have plenty of opinions about her other class reading, and when she brought up her epic poem assignment, it turned out he was familiar with the Homeric poems that plagued her. His favorite was Paradise Lost, though, and Olivia confided that she hadn’t been able to get into that one either.
“It struck a chord with me, I guess,” he said. His face was animated by their conversation, and Olivia realized with a start that she’d stopped thinking about the events before the diner. Literary discussion had always done that for her, and even though Harlan was probably just trying to distract her, she was truly enjoying their conversation. “That part about the mind making a heaven out of hell, and a hell out of heaven? I’ve made a lot of heavens into hell over the years.”
“Sounds like Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” Olivia smiled. Her lips felt cracked, and the expression felt strange, but she smiled. She did.
Harlan seemed surprised. “The chick movie? Never seen it.”
“It’s more than that, it’s based on a book by Capote. You might like it.”
“You never know, I guess.” Harlan had finished his cocoa by then, and when the waitress came by he looked at Olivia questioningly. “Another?”
Olivia shrugged. “I’m not sure if I can have another whole one.”
“We’ll share, then.” The waitress nodded and moved away, returning them to their privacy, before Olivia could react. Okay, they’d share. She didn’t have to have any. She didn’t have to sip from the mug once he had. Casual intimacy wasn’t something familiar to her. It felt like everyone in the diner would know they’d never shared a mug before, like she wouldn’t act casual enough about it.
Overthinking a mug already, that definitely helps.
When it came, she took the first sip and set it down. He sipped it next, then offered it back again.
She took it, feeling daring. This time she could feel the whipped cream touch her nose, and they both laughed. Olivia’s laugh was weak and wobbling, but Harlan’s was rich and deep. It sparked something inside of her, something asleep but waking up slowly.
When they exhausted all of her classes, she asked more questions about his service. She’d always wanted to travel, and wanted to know if he’d gotten to. “The army sent me around the world,” he answered. “You know what I learned?”
“What?” she asked, ready for some exciting travel story that would stoke her jealousy.
“I learned that the most important part of every trip is the companionship you have with you. The guys by your side, or the guys who aren’t. It wasn’t the ideal.”
“I always imagined doing a semester abroad. But I couldn’t - I mean, it just never happened.” Rent was hard enough. He nodded like he understood, and seeing her disappointment, began telling her about a layover he’d once had in Italy. He’d been flying back to base after a shoulder surgery, no one to report to for a day. He’d had five good hours of daylight, and spent them getting lost on foot until he’d tried every pizza he passed and hi
s shoulder ached like crazy.
“It was the best five hours of my life, I think.” He rubbed his chin, something she was noticing was a nervous habit of his. She wondered what it felt like to rub his face, if the bristles would itch or feel pleasantly scratchy. “Would have been even better with someone to explore with.”
“I’d love to go to Italy,” she sighed.
“I’m sure you’ll get there someday,” he promised. “Bright little dove like you? You could fly anywhere.”
Sip after sip, they shared the cocoa until it was gone.
Harlan insisted on paying, and when she climbed onto his bike this time, she sat behind him. He gave her his helmet again and showed her how to nestle her bookbag between his back and her stomach. Even though she’d been cradled much closer against him on the way to the diner, now that her adrenaline had worn off, she was much more aware of the feel of his body. He was so large as to be hard to grip onto, and his leather jacket had started beading with moisture as soon as they went outside. It should have been unpleasant, holding on for dear life to his cool, broad back, but it was utterly thrilling. When the bike roared to life underneath her, she could feel it rumbling through her thighs in a most improper way, but she couldn’t make herself care.
Chapter 9
After Harlan dropped her off at home, Olivia had gone straight to her room without answering any of her roommate's greetings and fallen deeply asleep. Surprisingly, she didn't dream at all.
In the morning they all had questions, but Olivia just redirected the conversation to the concert - it was that night, and they were happy enough to pick up the subject. She knew why she didn't want to talk about the crash - it had nearly debilitated her, and she still wasn't sure she'd taken it in. As to her late night cocoa with Harlan... it felt too precious to share, and she didn't know what it did or didn't mean, besides.
