“I know, Olivia. I’m worried too, but they’re not going to put him in jail if he has Alzheimer’s.”
“They’re not going to put him in jail, Nina. Because he’s not guilty of anything.” She paused. “Why, do you think he’s guilty?”
“No.”
“Then why would you say something like that?”
Nina let out a long breath. “Well, if they are accusing him of something … that means they have some proof.”
Olivia’s shoulders dropped, and she slid further into her chair while her stomach tightened even more. As if things couldn’t get any worse, ever since she broke the news to her parents of her broken-off engagement, it resulted in a falling out with her father.
“Don’t get mad at me … Dad’s joining us this morning.”
“Oh, I’m not sure if I’m ready to face him,” Olivia grumbled.
Olivia had been avoiding going to her parents’ home for the past week, only because she couldn’t handle looking at her father’s disapproving eyes.
“Dad caught me leaving this morning. What did you want me to say? Don’t come because your daughter is pig headed … like you.”
Olivia gave her sister a cheesy grin. “You could have lied.”
“I’m not a good liar like some people,” Nina said.
“What are you implying? I’m not a liar.”
“Oh get over yourself, Liv.” Nina snapped her menu shut. “You can’t play the victim in all this. I knew something wasn’t right with you, but you deliberately pretended that everything was just peachy. Oh, life is just grand!” She threw her hands up in the air. “We all suspected you’ve been fraying at the seams,” Nina said more softly.
“Who’s we?”
“Me, Peter … Paul, almost everybody except for Dad. We knew Dario was a complete asshole … especially toward you.”
“If only you were straight with me … if you told me exactly what was going on I could have helped you.”
“What could you have done for me that I should have done for myself?”
Even as children Nina could never let anything go. One time when Olivia kept getting her shoes stolen at school by Alice Donald, a girl in her third-grade class who looked for any reason to make Olivia’s life miserable. It was Nina who took matters into her own hands. One morning Nina cornered Alice, pulled her by her school uniform and shook her like a rag doll.
“If you bother my sister one more time, touch any more of her stuff … I’m going to make you hurt.” Nobody bothered Olivia after that day.
Thank God for big sisters.
Olivia sunk into her chair. “I’m not ready to see Dad.”
“How long are you going to give him the silent treatment?”
“He’s the one who’s not talking to me,” Olivia blurred out.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Not mine.” Olivia shook her head. “I shouldn’t have to take the blame for Dario being a dirty cheat.”
“No, you’re right, but it’s your fault because you weren’t completely straight with Dad.” Nina paused to add more milk to her coffee. “Listen, Olivia, if you’re not willing to tell Dad the whole story, how the hell do you expect him to react? Whose side do you expect him to take?”
“But I’m his daughter.”
“Tell him the truth about that reptile or let this one go. Let’s not forget the amount of shit Dad’s going through.” Nina’s eyes softened. “Just let it go, Olivia.”
Olivia bit her lip but felt compelled to clarify. “The only reason why I didn’t tell him the whole story is because I didn’t want to give him any more trouble. I figured it would be better for me to take the blame. It was easier for him to think I was the one who wanted out. It’s the only way Dario and Dad would be able to continue to work together.”
“I don’t understand. You’re still protecting Dario.”
“No, I’m protecting Dad from the truth.”
“Did you Google Dad’s name yet?” Nina spat out.
“No?”
“Go ahead, Google his name on your phone. Go ahead and see what they are saying about him.”
Olivia glanced up and spotted their father walking toward the table. She allowed Nina to greet him first while she remained seated, leaving it up to him to make the first move. As Olivia predicted, her father leaned over and kissed the top of her head. It sent a warm tingle through her. All is good. She knew he couldn’t be mad at her forever.
Olivia caught sight of her father’s smile, a smile that reminded her of a time when things were good. A time before all his troubles at work. A time before his diagnosis three months ago.
Isn’t it right about memory, Mr. Universe wrote. You just need a little glimmer of an image or a scent to ignite it, shifting you to a precise point in the past. Once you begin to remember, images and moments dash through your mind, running their course in all directions. The sweet montage, caught on the move, moves like silk, so fragile and dissolves with the light, never getting back its essence. Time is constant, time doesn’t get old or fade away… but it’s tragic that we do.
She hated to admit it. Her father had changed over the years. Physically, at first, his once brown chocolate hair turned to a light shade of gray, the lines around his hazel eyes had become profound, heavier now.
It was a year ago when her mother first expressed her concerns about him. She must have seen it before, but like Olivia, she brushes it off as nothing until it could no longer be ignored.
“Mom, he’s sixty-five. It’s normal to start forgetting things.” Olivia didn’t want to believe it at first, but then one Sunday morning at her parents’ house, she caught him standing in the hallway, looking lost and gazing around like he wasn’t sure of his surroundings.
“Dad?”
His eyes blankly caught hers. For a brief moment, the words eluded him as if he forgot how to speak.
“Dad, are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I was just looking for … well, I forgot what I was looking for … those things … you know. I can’t read this damn paper.” He squinted his eyes, holding the documents away from him.
“You mean your glasses? They’re on top of your head, Daddy.”
“Damn old age… la Vecchiaia è brutto … old age is ugly, love.”
Looking at him now, seeing how much he’d aged since then, Olivia wondered if her father could get any older. He had once been a vibrant man.
“How are you, love?” He picked up the menu in front of him.
“Good, Daddy.”
“What have you been up to?”
“I recently signed a contract with a realtor,” Olivia said.
He frowned. “Which agent?”
“Joanne Gadbois, from Montreal Relators.”
“Oh, Olivia, please not her! She’s an idiot. You should have talked to me first. I would have recommended someone else.”
She would have … if they were talking.
“Where’s Paul? That kid is always late.”
“Dad, I already told you this morning … Paul is not able to make it.” Nina shot Olivia a knowing look.
“Oh, right …” He frowned, glancing back at the menu.
“Listen, Olivia, I talked to your mother, and we both agree that you should move back home with us once you’ve sold your apartment.”
Olivia stared at him for several long seconds. Moving back home never crossed her mind. Twenty-three years living with helicopter parents would be enough for anyone.
“No … Dad, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Listen, please.” He held his hand up to stop her from continuing.
“No, Dad, actually I’ve been thinking about applying for a position at W. Moda. Gaby believes I have a good chance of getting a job with my experience.” Olivia nervously played with her napkin on her lap.
“What experience? What do you know about working for a magazine?” he asked.
Her cousin Gabriel was a fashion photographer based in Milan. Being
an only child, Gaby grew up with Olivia and spent a lot of time with her family. Throughout the years, they formed a very close relationship. Olivia was even one of the bridesmaids in his wedding when he married the daughter of the editor-in-chief of W. Moda. They’d spoken a few days ago, and Olivia finally broke down and told her cousin the truth about Dario’s infidelities. Gaby told her Dario didn’t deserve her and that she needed to get her butt over to Italy to get away from it all and focus on her career. It wouldn’t be difficult to uproot her life in Montreal. Olivia could even consider applying for citizenship if she wanted to since her mother was still an Italian citizen. Gaby had offered to help her find an apartment. He certainly had enough pull to get her a job with the magazine. If only her father would give her his blessing, then she wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving. But how could she even bring herself to leave when her father was in turmoil? What kind of daughter was she for even bring the subject up?
“I work in the fashion industry; W. Moda is a fashion magazine. It’s not much of a stretch, Dad.”
“Oh, you think so?” He paused to give the waitress his order, returning his focus back to Olivia.
“Okay, so tell me one thing,” He gazed at her.
She recognized that look: the squinting of the eyes, the tightening of his lips and the slight head-bob. The look her father gave before he crushed her dreams. The ‘let’s be realistic, this will never work out for you’ look.
“What position is available?”
“Gaby’s mother-in-law is looking for a personal assistant. It’s a year-to-year contract,” Olivia said as she took a sip of her coffee.
“So you’re telling me you want to move to Milan, Olivia? It’s the craziest idea yet.” Letting out a long breath, he added, “Look at your Aunt Teresa. She’s a total mess since your cousin moved to Italy. Gaby comes down what? Once ... twice a year? Your family is here, Olivia. Do you know what this will do to your mother?”
“God, Dad it’s not like I will be gone forever, it’s a year contract.”
“Well, I don’t have forever.”
“I can’t believe you’re giving me the guilt trip.”
“No, I’m telling you I don’t know how long this head of mine will function the way it should. Your mom is going to need you, all of her children when things get tough around here.”
“I understand, I don’t want to sound selfish it’s just … it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. I want a career in fashion. It’s something I always wanted since the age of six. Don’t you want this for me? Don’t you want me to be happy?”
“You have a career already. You’re a fashion designer.”
“I’m an assistant!” she corrected him. “All I do is get coffee for my boss. I have no creative freedom. He basically brings me samples to knock off. You can’t call what I do design. That’s—” She was going to say plagiarism, but her father might think it pertains to him. Not that she was accusing him of being a plagiarist, but the word relatively assumed some sort of criminal activity. And James Montiano’s name had been associated with criminal activity as of lately.
Her father shook his head. “But didn’t you say it was an assistant position?”
Olivia sunk further into her chair. “Yeah but this is W. Moda. Do you know what this could mean?”
“No, I do not, Olivia.” He shook his head, his voice sharp and assertive.
“This mean access to big designer houses, fashion shows, and reporters. Do you realize what this can do for my career?”
At times, Olivia needed to remind herself she was once a girl who only knew how to dream big. Ever since she was a child, she would sketch and make clothing for her dolls. She knew this was her destiny, something she was born to do. Olivia never wanted to be a designer by Montreal’s standards. No one recognized a fashion designer from Montreal. What was Montreal anyway? A city filled with potholes, high taxes, and the exhausting battle of language and separatism. No, Olivia wanted to be a designer by Milan, Paris, or even New York standards. She wanted her very own couture house that would cater to movie stars and politician’s wives. It might be unrealistic to some, but this is Olivia’s dream. Some dreams came true if you wanted it badly enough.
“So, come up with a business plan and we will discuss more,” her father said.
As tempted as she was to get her father to fund her project, it would not change Olivia’s situation. She’d still be precisely in the same spot where she stood now … doing things someone else’s way, what she envisioned her label to be forever limited. Olivia wanted to do this on her merit.
“No, Dad, I want to get some more experience first,” Olivia replied.
“Dad, she’s got a point. It doesn’t necessarily mean she needs to move there permanently,” Nina added.
He frowned. “Do you think Gabriel’s intentions was to move to Milan permanently when he left six years ago? No, Olivia. You’ll only meet someone over there and where will it leave your mother and me?”
“Well, you still have Nina and Paul,” Olivia grumbled.
“Dad, I think this would be an incredible opportunity for her …”
Olivia was grateful for Nina support, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough to persuade her father.
“Maybe so, but if you’re not happy with your job, Olivia, you should come to work for me and learn the ropes. Take your brother for instance, at first he had no interest in what I do, but thankfully he finally came to his senses. And I hope you will too.” He paused and looked around the room. “Where is Paul? That boy is never on time, even if his life depended on it.”
And so it was the end of that particular conversation.
After breakfast, Olivia and her sister walked back to her car. Olivia gave Nina a sideways glance. “Do you think it’s okay for Dad to be driving still?”
Nina let out a long exhale, creating a waft of steam with her breath. “Honestly, I don’t know. I asked Mom about it, and she assured me the doctors said it was okay to continue his normal activities.” Nina adjusted her wool scarf around her neck and gazed down the street, sliding her hands further into her pockets. “You know, I don’t want to push the subject, make him feel that he’s incapable because sooner or later he’s going to have everything taken away from him.”
It was mostly silent on the drive back to Nina’s house. Olivia assumed her sister felt the same way … because nobody liked to speak when there was so much stuff going on in their heads.
“Are you seriously thinking about moving back in with Mom and Dad?”
Olivia shrugged her shoulders.
“Is it possible to be twenty-three and still feel like you have to do what your parents tell you?” Olivia put on her left blinker, moving the car forward, crossing the intersection.
“Try twenty-seven, married with a kid, and I still do what they want.”
“At least they don’t see you as a failure. Nothing I ever do is ever right for Dad.”
“That’s not true.” Nina frowned.
“Yeah, well, feels like it.” She paused “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to move back home. I could help Mom with Dad when things get worse.”
“Olivia, if you move back home you can kiss your life goodbye, besides I’m there if they need me.”
“What life?”
“Exactly. You’re so young and need to live a little. Go out and meet people. You’ll see. You’ll meet someone else and hopefully settle down and have a family of your own, I know it’s hard with all the shit that’s happing with Dad, but life doesn’t stop, Olivia.
Nina opened the glove compartment and everything came tumbling down. Laughing, she said, “Olivia, I got one word for you: organization!”
“What are you looking for?”
“Gum.”
“I don’t have any. I’ll pull over at a gas station and pick some up.”
“No, it’s alright.”
Olivia looked up, catching Nina studying her.
“Olivia, if you don’t want to move back h
ome then don’t—”
“Oh yeah, this coming from the woman who bought a house next door to her parents.”
“Yeah, yeah ... well, you know Dad. He can be overbearing, but he means well.”
“No, it’s like an emotional trap. I don’t want to disappoint him, so I keep making these decisions based on what Dad wants, instead of what makes me happy, especially now that he’s sick.”
“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the only one … Why do you think Paul is afraid to bring his new girlfriend home to meet our parents?”
“What? Paul is seeing someone?”
“Yeah, for the last eight months … but there’s more.”
“Oh my God, he’s engaged!”
Nina’s face distorted slightly. “I can’t tell you anymore. I promised not to say anything, so just wait until he tells you himself. Alright?”
“I can’t believe he told you and not me … Paul tells me everything!”
“Well, you know I’m his favorite.”
“Bullshit!”
“Don’t get offended. Maybe he thought you had more shit going on in your life than you to deal with his problems.”
Nina peered down to find a folded paper at her feet.
“What’s this?” Nina bent down and picked up the handwritten note off the ground. Olivia quickly glanced over her sister’s shoulders.
“Oh, it must have fallen out of the glove compartment. It’s nothing.” Olivia snatched the paper out of Nina’s hand, not before Nina got a chance to read it.
“What’s this all about? Who’s Mr. Universe?” Nina smiled.
Olivia explained how she had been randomly finding these notes everywhere, from the windshield of her car to the inside of the front pocket of her purse. Nina took the paper out of her hand and studied the note once more.
“Hey, this is Paul’s handwriting.”
“That’s not Paul’s handwriting,” Olivia replied
“Of course, it is …”
“No, Paul is not the type go through the trouble of—”
“I’m almost certain. He’s always kidding around like this. Seriously, ask him.”
The Proverbial Mr. Universe Page 6
