Loving Liberty

by Belinda Boring

  Suddenly, all I wanted to do was escape and talk with Oliver. Somehow he always made it a little easier to breathe.

  “For goodness sakes, Liberty,” my mother exclaimed, exasperated. “Am I talking to myself? What is so important that you’re sitting there daydreaming?”

  I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to push back my chair, look both my parents in the eye and declare that I was falling in love with someone I knew they wouldn’t approve of and that I didn’t really care what they thought. I wanted to tell them I was done being treated like a child, controlled in every aspect of my life, and was ready to live by my own rules.

  Instead, I kept quiet, burying my desires and needs deep; and apologized. “I was just thinking about school. One of the professors introduced a new concept that was hard to understand. Maybe I’ll go to the library this weekend and see if I can research it a little more.”

  This earned me an approving grunt from my father. “Wise decision, Liberty. Hard work and study always pays off.”

  Glancing at my mother, I could almost hear the response she wanted to add. When the decision was first made for me to go to college, she argued night after night with my father about why his daughters needed further their education. Her only thought was to marry us off to successful, rich men who would take care of our every need. Of course my father won and I was quickly enrolled into the business program, but she never let go of her dream. If she had her way, I’d be married, pregnant, and sporting my very own string of Stepford wife pearls—just like a mini her.

  She said nothing, letting her sigh show her disappointment. This was just another reason why I didn’t want the life my parents had chosen for me. I wanted to speak my mind and share my opinions, without fear. I held the hope of finding someone who considered me their equal, someone who valued what I had to say and encouraged me.

  Someone like Oliver, I thought. There was no way Oliver would stifle the one he loved. In just a short time, he’d begun to chink away at my resolve and cause me to see myself through different eyes. He’d given me courage to dream.

  “You’re doing it, again,” my mother accused, placing her fork on her plate and staring at me. “I’m warning you right now, Liberty Jane Montgomery. You act like this in front of Andrew and you can kiss any chance with him goodbye. I want you to hang off his every word, do you hear me? Do not sit there staring into space with a stupid look on your face.”

  Erica smirked, clearly enjoying me being in the hot seat. Even my father had stopped eating and was watching me closely.

  “Sorry,” I said, yet again. Why does it seem like I’m always apologizing? “Maybe I should go upstairs to my room and study. Will you excuse me?” I was rewarded with a curt nod and, laying my napkin on the table, I stood up. “Thank you for dinner, Mom.”

  I couldn’t escape fast enough. Hurrying up the stairs, careful not to appear as though I was running, I closed my bedroom door behind me—finally safe. Leaning back against the door, I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath.

  I needed to get out of this house.

  Before it’s too late.

  I was in the middle of texting Oliver when there was a brusque knock at my door. There was barely enough time to hide the phone under my pillow when my mother barged in, Erica trailing behind her. My heart sank when I saw the parcels in her arms, no doubt things she’d just happened to see that would be perfect for my date with Andrew.

  Once upon a time I’d thought her shopping for me was a sign of my mother’s love, her using it as a way to build a connection with her youngest daughter. For years I wore whatever she deemed “just right” for me, until I finally realized that wasn’t it at all. I was merely a doll to dress up and show off—a younger version and reflection of her, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  “Good, you’re not busy.”

  Not giving me a chance to reply, my mother began unpacking her bags and laying out a variety of items at the bottom of my bed. “I have a few things for you to try on.” She was already handing me a cream linen A-line dress. It was on the tip of my tongue to argue, to tell her I was still studying, or even feign a yawn, but I knew it would be pointless. In these cases, it was better to go with the flow.

  Removing my jeans and sweater, I couldn’t fault her impeccable taste. Everything was of the finest quality—from the fabric, to the cut and design. If it wasn’t for the fact I wore designer jeans, I doubt I’d get away with wearing denim at all.

  “This is nice,” I muttered, smoothing out the dress that fell just below my knee. There were small roses embroidered into the material and it conformed nicely to my body. Turning around, Erica came forward and zipped up the back. I knew she was angry about the whole thing, judging by how rough she was. I tried not to yelp when my hair got snagged.

  “Just like I thought. Perfect!” My mother beamed. She did her own adjustments, tilting her head as she quietly commented. “The cream complements your skin coloring. Let’s see what else.” She returned to the bed and held up two thin cardigans. “I can’t decide which I like best—the soft pink or slightly bolder blue.”

  The blue reminded me of Oliver’s eyes. “I like that one.” I pointed at my choice.

  “Definitely, the pink, then.” She decided, handing it to me. I resisted the urge to say no by biting the inside of my cheek. This was the pattern we followed each and every time. My mother presents the appearance of giving me a say in the decision but then ignores it.

  Slipping the sweater on, I tried not to cringe. The colors were beautiful and the outfit did look amazing, but it reminded me of a cupcake. If there was one thing I was certain of, I didn’t want to look sweet and delicious on my date.

  “Andrew is going to be enchanted with you. Yes, if I do say so myself.” My mother all but clucked as she gloated.

  “Don’t forget these,” Erica said handing my mother a smaller box. My stomach sunk. It had Tiffany’s stamped over the top. “Only the best for you, sister.” There was no ignoring the hard edge and scowl as Erica moved to the other side of the bed. I couldn’t understand how my mother could be so oblivious to the animosity radiating off her.

  “Thank you, Erica.” Taking it, she opened the container and pulled out a dainty strand of pearls. “I know you already have a set, but I thought you should have something to commemorate your new future.”

  I lifted my hair up, away from my neck. “It’s one date, Mom. That’s all.” The necklace settled nicely as she closed the clasp. My fingers traced over the small balls that hung at the hollow of my throat. It was sometimes hard to believe that something so precious had started off as a tiny grain of sand.

  “No, it’s whatever I say it is.”

  “But . . .” She didn’t even let me finish.

  “Enough. Now try on the shoes I bought to match the outfit and let me see the whole picture.”

  I did what I was told and slipped on the cream colored pumps. On the outside, I looked like the obedient daughter, but on the inside I sighed, heavily. Finally dressed, I faced both of them with my arms spread open. “Do you approve?”

  My mother was silent as she studied me with a critical eye. “I’ll schedule you an appointment with Roberto tomorrow to do something with your hair and Erica will help you with your makeup. But, yes, I think Andrew will also approve. Wonderful!”

  Erica snorted.

  “There’s no need to be jealous, Erica,” my mother retorted, zeroing her attention on my sister. “You’ll have your chance, again.”

  My heart ached at the subtle dig. Erica had once been desperately in love with a guy named Matthew and I seriously thought they’d get married. You couldn’t look at either of them without seeing how much in love they were. My mother adored him. He came from the perfect family and he had just begun an internship at my father’s firm. All the signs were there for a happily ever after wedding, but then something happened. I still didn’t know the details. All I know is that for months, I could hear Erica sob into her pillow at nigh
t; and over time, her once soft heart hardened. That was also when our relationship soured.

  I jumped in, changing the subject. “Thank you for the clothes, Mom. I’ll hang everything up so it doesn’t crease.”

  Unclasping the pearls and unzipping the dress, she laid her hands on my shoulders. “Make sure you do. Appearances are everything, Liberty. Make sure you remember that, while you’re at dinner. Don’t give Andrew any reason not to want a second, third, and fourth date. Your future happiness depends on it.” She gathered up the empty bags and said goodnight, leaving Erica and me alone. She didn’t wait for a response, knowing I’d follow her instructions down to the letter.

  “Yes, we can’t have Andrew not fall instantly in love with our precious, Liberty,” Erica mocked, her stare chilled. “He’ll take one look at you and propose on the spot!” She made an indecent noise, picking up the pearls before throwing them back on the bed with contempt. “Just remember your promise. Ignore being the obedient daughter for one night and convince Andrew you are all wrong for him.”

  “I know what I’m supposed to do, so there’s no need to be rude about it. Trust me, I don’t want anything to do with him,” I answered, returning from my closet.

  “He’s way out of your league, plain and simple. I don’t know why our parents think you are the perfect one for him, but we both know the truth. The sooner Andrew realizes it, the better. I can give him everything he needs.” With one more condescending smirk, Erica left the room.

  Why won’t anyone listen? I don’t want him! I groaned.

  Because you’re too cowardly to say what you really think out a loud and be firm. I couldn’t argue with my inner voice.

  Exhausted, I quickly put on my pajamas and climbed into bed. Homework could wait until tomorrow. Dealing with my family had short-circuited my brain and all I wanted to do was sleep.

  Readjusting my pillow, I saw that Oliver had texted me and my spirits rose.

  Whatcha doing?

  My thumbs moved swiftly over the small keyboard as I gave a brief retelling of tonight. When he replied with a virtual hug and smiley face, I laughed.

  And just like that, all was right with the world, again.

  Chapter Ten

  “So what’s the topic this evening?” Oliver asked, his voice low in my ear. It was rapidly becoming a nightly ritual with us to call each other before falling asleep. Every time I saw his name come up on my caller ID, it gave me a thrill. Tonight was no different.

  “Hmmm,” I answered sleepily, snuggled warmly under my blankets. “I realized today that I still don’t know too much about you. So how about you be the topic.”

  “I have an even better idea. How about we play quid pro quo? For every question you ask, I get to do the same.”

  “Sounds good to me. Although, you pretty much know everything about me.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. Ready?” He sounded eager to begin and it made me wonder what questions he had in mind. “You go first.”

  I didn’t know where to start. I’d hoped Oliver would just start talking, sharing whatever tidbits from his life he thought were interesting. Questions swarmed around in my head, begging to be asked, ranging from the small to the most detailed.

  “Umm.” I wasn’t sure if I should ask what I really wanted to know. “What’s your favorite color?”

  The other side of the phone call erupted into laughter. “Is that what you really want to know?”

  “I thought I’d start off simple. Warm you up.” I rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position. “So what is it?”

  “I guess it depends. Usually I’m partial to green, but lately I’ve been drawn to the prettiest red. I find myself searching for it, waiting for chances to make it surface.”

  Even apart, he held the power to make me blush. There was no doubt in my mind about what he was talking about. “Oliver . . .”

  “My turn!” He interrupted. “Let’s see. Should I warm you up as well or just jump right in?”

  “Be gentle,” I pleaded. My imagination was running wild from all the possibilities.

  “Always, sweetheart.” I was suddenly glad we weren’t having this conversation in person. Whenever Oliver used that word with me, it made my insides tumble. At least alone, I didn’t have to worry about him seeing my reaction. “How about what made you decide to major in business?”

  This was an easy question. “My parents decided it. Actually, my father, because secretly I think he wishes I was a son and could follow in his footsteps. He talks about having me work at his firm when I graduate, but I don’t see that happening. My mother is adamant about having me married off and sees education as a waste of time.”

  “What did you want to study?” Oliver prompted.

  “Is that a second question?” I laughed, calling him out on breaking the rules so quickly.

  “Okay, then I’ll save it.” He chuckled in reply. “Are you going to ask what you really want to know? Or would you like to know my favorite movie, next?” He was teasing me and I couldn’t keep from smiling.

  “I just don’t want to pry,” I admitted.

  “For you, I’m an open book. Don’t be afraid to say what you’re thinking and feeling with me and don’t be afraid to ask me anything, okay?”

  I instantly relaxed. “I want to know . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

  “Liberty . . . it’s okay. Trust me.”

  “I’m just curious about what it was like with your family. Was it hard breaking away and standing up to them?” I let out a loud breath, relieved I’d been able to ask. It was one of the questions that were always on the tip of my tongue.

  “I wondered how long it would take for you to ask me that. Let me see, where do I even start?”

  “I can ask another question if you want.” I cut in.

  “No, no. I just don’t want to bore you with details. I love my family and I miss them, but I don’t regret standing up to my father. Growing up, nothing I ever did was right. It was near impossible to please him; and to a small boy, feeling like I was a constant disappointment all but crushed my self-esteem. Everything I did was geared around earning his approval. The clubs I joined, girls I dated, schooling . . . it was all for him. I worked hard to receive the highest achievements and awards only to have him to dismiss them, like they were unimportant. I tried to model myself after him and not once did I disobey or question him when he required something from me. I lived to please that man, and, in the end, it was a devastating blow when he told me I was nothing but a failure. I remember standing there, ready to convince him to believe in me, and something snapped inside. I saw a lifetime of always falling short, of never being worthy of his praise. That’s when I decided I didn’t want it. I went upstairs to my room, packed my things, and left that night. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but that first step was like an epiphany.”

  My heart was breaking, hearing how hard it had been for him. “And he didn’t try and stop you?”

  “That’s another question,” he stated, playfully. “You need to answer mine, first. What would you rather study?” I could hear him moving about on the other end, maybe getting comfortable, as well.

  “Honestly? I don’t know. What I really want to do is travel.” A wistful tone filled my voice. “It doesn’t matter to where, just that I go somewhere and explore. Different cultures fascinate me and I’d love to study different architecture and art—the history.” I let out a soft laugh. “I haven’t told many people that. I made the mistake of telling my mother once and her eyes almost bulged out of her head. She finds all that stuff boring.”

  “Then it’s her loss. The world is such a large place—filled with amazing things to discover. I can just imagine you taking photos in front of the Eiffel Tower, or wide-eyed in London. I want that for you.”

  “Well, it’s a dream. You never know.”

  There was a brief pause before Oliver agreed. “You never know.”

  “Talking to you makes me thin
k things can actually happen,” I confessed. “That my longings don’t always have to be secret wishes in my heart.”

  “You can have whatever you want. There’s no reason why you should ever have to settle for anything less. But I know making that first step toward a dream is the hardest.”

  “Sometimes I think I can do it, but then when I’m with my parents, fear takes over. I want to open my mouth and tell them. I’m just too much of a coward.”

  “No, not a coward. Just not ready yet. But you will be. I have faith in you,” Oliver encouraged. “Just hold onto that hope of yours. It’ll happen.”

  “Oliver?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why me?” I blurted. It was a question that plagued me ever since he had first flirted with me at the fundraiser and then when he gave me his number. He could have any girl he wanted; yet, here he was talking with me.

  “Why not you?” He fired back.

  “I’m no one special.”

  “But I think you are.”

  “Seriously, I’m trying to understand.” I scooted up in bed, resting against the headboard with my knees bent under the covers. “No one’s ever given me this kind of attention or been this interested in anything I’ve had to say, unless they get something out of it.”

  “I genuinely like you, Liberty. I’m a good judge of character and I knew you were someone I needed to know, from the very beginning. I don’t flirt with just anyone.” His voice had a gentleness to it. “I’m sorry that others can’t appreciate how sweet and amazing you are. You have so much to offer people. I definitely want you in my life.”

  “As a friend or as a project?” It took more courage to ask that particular question.

  “You will never be a project. Ever. Do I want to help you? Hell yes, but that’s because I want you to be happy and have the life you deserve. I really believe it was fate that brought us together. There’s a reason why I was working that night and we met. Things don’t randomly happen. We were meant to be friends.”