by Kit Graves
And familiar.
“Oh-” she took it, her eyes nearly watering just on sight. It was the exact copy her mom had had, had read to them when they were children. “I can’t believe it - my mom had this. It must have been lost…” when my dad lost the house after she died. After they all died. She didn’t say it, but he must have sensed something missing.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching out to take it back. “What horrible luck.”
“No, it’s - I’d like to check it out. It’s a great choice. What made you think of me?” He huffed a little, clearly embarrassed now. Perversely, it cheered Olivia up to see.
He took the book back, plucking it carefully now instead of trying to take it away. He flipped to the middle, back a bit, and found his page. “Here.” He turned it around, displaying a beautiful woodcut-style illustration at the top of a new chapter. A chapter labelled Beauty and the Beast.
She tried to contain her giggles, being in the library and all, but soon they were both laughing together. A librarian poked her head around the corner to hush them, but that only made them laugh harder.
They checked out their books and walked back to the car, Olivia delighting in the new library card she’d received, and Harlan already reading the back of her pick for him. “You know, I don’t take kindly to being called a beast,” she teased, once they were in the cab of the truck. He smiled, but didn’t take the bait, instead maneuvering them out of the parking lot and heading back toward her apartment. “I don’t much like you calling yourself one either.”
He sighed. “Just a joke. I know what I look like.”
“Do you?” It wasn’t like her to be this forward, but she forged ahead, feeling that her sense of propriety would be more upset by allowing him to continue to think such horrible untruths. “You’re very handsome, Harlan.”
“I know I must be half good-looking, for you to be here with me. I think I know which half, too.”
She sighed, feeling sad that he couldn’t accept her compliments. They had an hour left, and so they stopped at a coffee shop in Olivia’s neighborhood for one last cup of coffee (him) and tea (her). Once they were sitting outside, overlooking a park and splitting a muffin, she brought it up again. “Harlan, what made you so sure your scars make you - well, the Beast?”
He cleared his throat, clearly a little uncomfortable, but he took the bait. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t be rejecting such a sweet compliment from such a beautiful woman. It’s a habit that I unfortunately developed at an early age. Kids are cruel, and teenagers are crueler.”
“You got them as a child?” She was surprised. “I thought-”
“Most people do think I got them from my service,” he answered, acknowledging her unspoken thought. “I think maybe that’s a subconscious part of why I signed up. No, I got these as a kid.” He didn’t explain further, or offer to explain one day, but Olivia let it go.
“Still,” she said instead. “A grown woman should be able to look past them. They’re not so bad, you know.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “They used to be worse. I got what surgery I could, but they’re too old of a wound, too much a part of me. And there have been women, here and there, but they make me vulnerable to… well. My last serious girlfriend only stuck around about nine months, and I think in the end it wasn’t me she liked, but the military check and stability. She would use them against me when I’d confront her about her spending, her pushing to get married, telling me that I should be so lucky, that no one else would want a man with… like this.”
Olivia’s blood was boiling hotter than her tea. She wiped muffin crumbs off her hand and reached out to touch Harlan’s face, cupping a small part of his scarred cheek briefly in her palm. Her eyes met his, and she was touched by what she saw. His eyes, like troubled water, had clouded with an unsure grey. She sensed that telling him he was handsome again wouldn’t be enough to soothe them.
So she took a deep breath and decided to be a little bit brave. He had told her something painful, and she could give him something in return, if it would help. “I know what that’s like.”
He looked surprised, but didn’t speak. She thought his eyes swept over her face briefly, as though scanning for some hidden scar. Olivia didn’t have a single scar, though, except for those that couldn’t be seen.
“My last boyfriend… my only boyfriend. He told me things about myself that I believed. It’s so easy to believe horrible things about ourselves, especially when someone we love and trust is telling us those things. Easy to believe you are… you know. Stupid. Ugly. Unlovable.”
“You could never be those things,” he swore, looking disturbed, looking like he wanted to hit something but didn’t know where to aim.
Olivia shrugged. “He was wrong. I believe that now, mostly. She was wrong, too.”
“You’re wise beyond your years, little bird,” he said finally, though she could tell he had more to say.
She shrugged, though the motion was mostly lost in her oversized sweatshirt. “I’m trying.”
Harlan insisted on buying her a refill for class, as well as more muffins for her study group. They chatted a little about her assignment and the rest of his day as he took her back to her apartment, finally parking back in the spot he’d picked her up in. Olivia knew she’d have to run upstairs to get dressed before meeting everyone, but she didn’t want to leave, either. “Thank you for today,” she said, amazed that they’d spent five hours together as easy as breathing. “I had a great time being old people.”
“Thanks for trusting me,” he answered. “I’d love to take you back to my retirement home for some bingo, but maybe… next time?”
“Next time,” she confirmed, and paused for a beat before reaching for the car door. Did she want to kiss him? Was he going to kiss her? She wasn’t sure, and in her hesitation she found herself squinting up into his face. He chucked, and she blushed. “Sorry. I was just - “
“Waiting for this?” he murmured, closing the distance between them with one tilt of his long torso, his hand finding her face, his thumb on her chin. Their lips met gently, gently, the press of his lips on hers far less intense than the feel of his enormous palm against her cheek, the balsam-cedar smell of him. Now that Olivia could lean into him, she nearly melted forward, so much so that she felt off balance when he released her. He chuckled and touched her face again, Olivia blushing up toward his. She couldn’t help but smile, and he returned it, until both of them were grinning, laughing, and this time she leaned forward first. He deepened this kiss a little, carefully, tilting his head until his nose brushed her cheek. When he leaned back again, Olivia had to blink and remind herself that she had somewhere to be.
Harlan got out of the car as she gathered her things reluctantly, opening the door for her and helping her down. She thought he would kiss her again, but he hugged her instead, and that was even better. His arms were as warm as she remembered, and she could feel the strength behind his gentle embrace. She snuggled into it for a moment, acting on sheer instinct, before pulling away to go. It was harder than she’d expected.
Olivia took one more look at him, to last until next time, before waving goodbye. He raised one large, sure hand in return - but waited until she was inside safely before driving away.
Chapter 14
“Hey Olivia, where were you yesterday?”
Winnie’s voice sounded light and innocent, but Olivia immediately froze over the sink. The girls were doing their Sunday morning clean, Olivia doing dishes, Winnie cleaning out the fridge and trash cans, Tiffany downstairs washing the couch cover and rug with her laundry, and Laurel sweeping and vacuuming the floors. They swapped often, but Olivia found the dishes pretty relaxing, even if they did turn her hands into prunes.
“What do you mean?” Olivia asked carefully, not turning around. She hadn’t told any of her roommates about her date with Harlan - Tiffany would have relayed their talk to Winnie by now, though, and if she’d been seen getting i
nto Harlan’s truck… or out of it... Olivia was glad she hadn’t turned around, and drew her shoulders up further to hide her blush.
“What do you mean?" Winnie repeated, in a fair estimation of Olivia’s voice. “Olivia! I saw you making out with a giant dude and I want to talk about it!”
“WHAT?” Laurel was in the room so fast that she was still holding a broom in her hand. “Christ, no one tells me anything around here.”
“It was - you guys, I -" Olivia looked from one to the other, but honestly didn’t know what to say. Her instinct was to claim it was nothing, but it wasn’t. It hadn’t been. She’d barely been able to sleep last night, going over every minute of their date, trying to commit it to memory before their perfect bubble was inevitably burst. “His name is Harlan,” she said quietly, after a second.
Laurel shrieked, and Olivia found herself somehow wrapped up into Winnie’s arms, petite as she was. They both started asking questions, Laurel vibrating with energy. It actually made Olivia a little emotional - she hadn’t known how much her roommates… her friends… had cared about her love life.
Winnie squeezed her and let her go. “We’ve been hoping for so long that you would be ready to date again. It’s so great, Olivia. Laurel, don’t you think it’s great?”
“It’s so great, girl. I’m so happy for you! You’re totally over that asshole and you’re totally getting laid.” Winnie narrowed her eyes at Laurel, who shrugged, but Olivia laughed.
Tiffany came back in with an armload of laundry, and Olivia hurried over to meet her. “Tiff, I was right!” Winnie called behind her.
“I thought you might be.” Tiffany smiled at Olivia, and the girls got the cushion cover back on together as Winnie filled Laurel in on what she’d seen. It was embarrassing knowing that someone had seen their first kiss, but Olivia couldn’t regret anything about it, especially hearing how excited it made them.
“What did you guys do?” Tiffany asked casually causing Winnie and Laurel to perk up and start listening.
“Oh, we went to breakfast and the library.” Olivia said, feeling shy.
“Eugh, what?” Laurel said, but everyone ignored her.
“That sounds fun,” Tiffany said instead, smiling in an encouraging way at her. “Winnie and I do that sometimes, it’s a great coupley thing to do. Sounds sweet.”
“It was,” Olivia agreed, and Laurel flopped herself backwards onto the couch they’d just set up.
Winnie snorted and pushed Laurel’s legs down to sit beside her. “Tell us about him. Where’d you meet? When can we meet him? Does he go to WU?”
“Have you told him your deep, dark secrets?” Laurel cut in. Winnie swatted at her without looking away from Olivia. “I’m sorry, girl, sorry. You’ve just never dated anyone before, so I’m really curious about how… you know, how it’s going to go.”
Olivia shrugged. She knew how Laurel was, and didn’t blame her for it. “To be honest, I’m wondering the same thing. I met him at work, and I really like him. But I guess… we’ll see. This is new. It’s all new.”
“He works at the tollbooth?” Winnie clarified.
“No, he works across the bridge. He came through my booth.”
“Yeah, he did,” Laurel crowed.
“Shut up,” Winnie told her. “So not a student. I didn’t see him up close, just that he was a big guy.”
“Yeah, he’s tall.” Olivia didn’t know how much else was hers to tell. But maybe he’d meet them, if things kept going well. “I don’t know him well, but you know, he might be around. Eventually.”
“Well, I’m glad,” Winnie announced.
“Me too,” Tiffany agreed.
“Me three,” Olivia giggled, feeling lighter than air.
Encouraged by her friends’ reactions, Olivia found herself daydreaming about Harlan through the rest of their cleaning. She’d stayed up late paging through the book, happily nostalgic for the days when she'd believed in princes. It made her fall asleep happily, even if the nightmares eventually found her.
Now she was finishing her homework, still half-daydreaming, when her phone rang.
“Oh, hey Dad,” she answered, a little surprised to see Thom’s face on her screen.
“Hey, hon.” he said. “You doing okay?”
“I’m doing great! Why, what’s wrong?”
She could hear tinkering sounds, as though her Dad was cooking. She smiled. He’d once been a grillmaster, mixing his own spice rubs and marinades. It sounded like he was back to it. “Oh, you know… I talked to George, he’s back on the base and back to work.”
“Oh, awesome.” She put her pencil down and stretched her legs out. “He texted me when he got there but I haven’t talked to him since.”
“Well, he told me you guys went out and had a nice night.”
“We did.”
“But maybe it didn’t end so well?” His prompting was gentle, but Olivia sighed when she realized what he was getting at.
“Yeah, we ran into Tomer. It’s okay, Dad.”
“Are you sure?” She could hear his concern, and was touched that he’d given her a few days to get over it, probably worrying about her the whole time. So she bit back the part of her that didn’t really want to talk about it, especially when she’d been in a good, Tomer-free mood.
“I’m sure. It was just a random run-in, I’m sure it won’t happen again. And George was there, he made sure nothing bad happened.” She hoped George hadn’t told Thom the specifics of what he’d overheard, though. She was used to hearing it from Tomer: she could take it.
“Okay, hon. Well…” Thom paused, and she heard a sizzle. “Well, if you want to talk, I’m here. And if you’d like to talk to someone else… I mean to say, if you ever want to see a professional, just for your own peace of mind, I would love to pay for it.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Olivia said, although she wanted to sigh. She knew she needed therapy. They’d both gone, after the accident, but it hadn’t worked for either of them at the time. Thom had spiralled and quit going, and Olivia had still been in fight or flight mode, still wholly consumed with breathing and staying alive hour after hour. After Tomer, she probably should have gone again, but she’d been afraid to tell anyone out loud how bad it had been, to keep those memories alive once she’d gotten free of him.
And so it had all gone untouched, and she knew it festered. But Thom hadn’t gone either, and it was difficult to receive gracefully, even when said out of love.
They hung up after a little more light conversation and an invitation for dinner in a week’s time. Olivia hadn’t felt like bringing up Harlan yet. Somehow it hadn’t felt like Thom would have trusted in her taste in the middle of a conversation about Tomer. She was in a weird mood, and glad she was able to finish her homework later. She did want to talk to someone, but that someone wasn’t a therapist. Not right now.
Hey, how’s it going? she texted Harlan.
It felt bold, texting him first again so soon, but as soon as she put her phone back down, it pinged in response.
Hello little dove. Having a good day?
She chewed her lip. She didn’t want to complain, but also didn’t want to be dishonest. She settled for could be better.
It took a moment for him to reply this time. She started to worry that she’d been too needy, that she really did just have terrible taste in guys, or was so bad with them that it she would never be successful in love... and then he responded.
Are you free?
Relief washed through her, followed by a blaze of bright happiness. Now, with no hesitations, she just said Yes.
Chapter 15
Olivia re-dressed quickly, keeping her jeans and comfy boots on, but switching out her hoodie for her favorite white blouse and a cinnamon-colored cardigan. It felt very autumnal, and she finished the look with a lipstick in a similar rust color. Last she pulled her hair half-back, finishing just in time to hear a motorcycle rumbling to a stop below her bedroom window.
She poked her head out, her
hair blocking her view at first as she scanned the parking lot. “Harlan?”
“Here.” She blinked - he was standing practically below her, which was why she hadn’t seen him. He was looking up at her now with something like awe, clutching something against him, both halves of his face in perfect harmony as he took her in. Olivia smiled, happy to see him. “I’ll be right down!”
“Take your time,” he said, but she barely heard him, so quickly did she retreat from the window to leave.
Tiffany gave her a wave from the kitchen on the way out, but she didn’t see anyone else in the living room, and thanked her lucky stars as she hurried out to meet Harlan.
He met her at the door, leaning down to claim a swift kiss that made Olivia smile all over again. “Hey, little dove. You alright?”
It was too much like Thom’s call, him asking her that. She fought the urge to frown, but just nodded, determined that being with Harlan would cheer her up, not make her wallow pointlessly further. “Yes, thank you. But I’m glad to see you again so soon!”
“Me, too,” he rumbled, and handed her a helmet. It was clearly what he’d been holding against his body, and just as clearly wasn’t his, small as it was.
“Is this for me?” She grinned, looking it over. It was silver and black, and looked just like Harlan’s with the addition of some filigree detail. “I didn’t get you anything!”
He rubbed his chin, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, don’t think much on it. It’s only that we shouldn’t be taking the bike anymore, you not wearing one.”
“Thank you, Harlan, that was very thoughtful.” She glanced up at him, and, willing herself to be brave, stood on her tiptoes to give him a small kiss.
She could feel his smile against her lips, and his arms wrapped around her slowly. Olivia still held the helmet, so she tried holding his arm, tentatively, as she returned his chaste kisses. It was thrilling to be able to kiss him, let him kiss her, to have him come when she called and be so happy to see her. She felt drunk on it, but not impaired. She felt conscious of every second. Every motion. The feel of his lips, one side smooth and the other side strong.
