Olivia

by Lori L. Otto

  “I don’t care who told me!” I interrupt their argument. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a mom already!” I hug her, careful not to squeeze too tight. She’s not showing at all. “When are you due?”

  “In about six months.”

  “And Kaydra?” I ask, diverting my attention back to my uncle.

  “She’s due a month earlier.”

  Lexi’s husband helps her with her coat, handing it to my dad when he gets up to give her a hug. “We have a lot of celebrating to do today,” he laughs, shaking Kyle’s hand in congratulations.

  “Why so soon?” I ask Lexi quietly as we move to sit on the couch next to her dad. “I mean, your musical...” She had been doing off-broadway since she graduated, but got a part in a major broadway production two months ago.

  “I’ll just have to put it off for a bit. Juilliard offered me a permanent position at the school, so I’m going to do that. It has great benefits, and I still get to be around music every day.”

  “Broadway was your dream, though.”

  “This was my dream, too, Livvy. We want children. We just didn’t think it would be this easy.” They got married in July. They got pregnant the next month? I start to feel queazy.

  I hope my forced smile is good enough, but I can’t fathom having children so young. Dad was more than ten years older than Lexi is when he adopted me. And my uncle–who’s six years younger than my dad–is going to be a grandfather.

  My head is spinning. “I’ll be right back.” I squeeze my cousin’s hand as I get up and head straight to the back door to go outside for some fresh air.

  Sitting on the patio steps, I revel in the cold wind that whips against my skin, waiting for the reality to settle in. I turn around when I hear the patio door open.

  “Can I join you?” my dad asks.

  “Please do,” I say, scooting over so he can sit next to me.

  “You okay?” he laughs.

  “Just shocked. How can it take you and Mom, what, seven years to conceive a child? And it takes Lexi a month?”

  He laughs at my naïvety, but suddenly becomes very serious. He swallows hard, looking me in the eyes. “It only takes one time, Tessa.” I duck my head into my knees, feeling the blush rise up to my cheeks.

  “I know, Dad,” I mumble.

  “Okay. I’m glad you know.” We’re both silent as crisp leaves dance around the backyard. I look up, keeping my eye trained on one particular red one that stands out from the rest. “How can my little brother be a grandfather already?” He runs his hand through his hair. “I’m not that old, Liv,” he says, as if trying to convince me.

  “You’re forty-nine, Dad, and your twin’s a grandmother. Did you know that Granna would have been a grandmother at forty-nine? If their baby had lived?”

  “No,” he says. “I didn’t realize that. Shit,” he says, suddenly stunned. I look at my father, surprised at his language. He never cusses. “Sorry, but I’m going to be fifty next year. I am that old.”

  My heart aches at the thought of Dad getting older. I shake my head at him as my emotions get the best of me. I tear up and give him a quick hug, partly because I want to be close to him, and partly because I don’t want him to see me crying. “I swear to you, Dad,” I say with conviction, “you will not be a grandfather before sixty. It just won’t happen.”

  “Now, don’t make promises you can’t keep–”

  “That’s an easy one to keep, Dad. I can’t imagine being a mom.”

  “Well, just because you can’t imagine it now doesn’t mean it won’t happen. I mean, I hope you have a long time to enjoy being an adult without immediately transitioning into being responsible for someone else’s childhood. That’s a big leap, in a short amount of time.”

  “You mean Lexi?” He nods.

  “Even I couldn’t imagine being a father at 25.”

  “Kelly was a mom at 21.”

  “And I told her she was out of her mind,” he adds quickly. “I’ve never been more happy to be wrong about something, though. She’s been an incredible mother to those kids. But even she wonders what more she could have accomplished if she’d waited.”

  “But Dad, she’s accomplished so much with them. She’s got her own successful bakery.”

  “She wouldn’t have been able to do that on her own, though,” he says. “I did that for her. It was as close to the dream as she could get.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She wanted to be a professional chef. She had enrolled in culinary school. She was good... but she was in love. Madly in love,” he laughs. “Thomas really wanted to start a family. So she gave up her dream.”

  “Lexi has to do the same,” I tell him, feeling sorry for my cousin, even though she doesn’t seem sad about it.

  “Hopefully it’s just a postponement. She’s too talented to limit her audience to the babies she sings lullabies to.”

  “Yeah,” I say with a quiet laugh. “Lucky babies, though.”

  Dad smiles and nudges my knee with his. “I don’t want you to ever give up on your ambitions, Livvy. There’s plenty of time for relationships, and marriage, and babies... but your life is just starting.”

  “Dad–”

  “Jon seems to have a good head on his shoulders and he knows his own personal goals,” he says, “but I worry he’s not the best influence on you these days.”

  “Dad, is this about the painting?”

  “Among other things. I just can’t help but think that things are moving really fast. I mean, I see that promise ring on your finger, and I remember how quickly that was put there. You two don’t need to rush into anything.”

  “We’re not, Dad.” He looks at me sideways, and I can see his doubt. I can’t look him in the eye when I repeat my response. “We’re not.”

  “I’m not sure I believe you, Tessa,” he says, looking down at his hands as he plays with his own wedding ring.

  Before I have to lie again, someone else comes out on the patio. My uncle Matty is impeccably dressed in clothes better suited for his hometown of LA than for the cold winter that’s settling over Manhattan. “Little Liv!” my uncle exclaims.

  I stand up quickly to give him a hug, and hear Dad stand up behind me. He walks past us, and I barely hear his quiet utterance as he pats his brother on the back. “And here’s part of the reason I don’t believe you.”

  I stare after my dad, watching him go into the house.

  “What was that about?” Matty asks.

  “I told him Jon and I weren’t rushing into anything...” Matty understands what I’m referring to. “And he said he doesn’t believe me, and that you’re part of the reason, apparently.” My heart stops beating for a second. “Did you tell him, Matty?”

  “No, no, of course I didn’t tell him, Liv! What happened in Mykonos stayed there. I promise.”

  “Well, then... why would he say that?”

  Matty takes a seat on the patio step and looks out over the yard. “It’s not that he didn’t ask me, point blank–because he did. Maybe he doesn’t believe me?”

  I rush down the steps to stand in front of him, worried. “What did you say?”

  “I said, ‘I’m her uncle, who do you think I am?’ And then he said something to the effect of, ‘clearly she would have been better off with her uncle Steven.’ What do you think that was supposed to mean?”

  “Steven? Who raised the daughter who remained a virgin until the age of twenty-five when she got married?” I slouch down next to my uncle on the step, once again putting my head into my hands.

  “Well, you made it two-thirds of the way, Liv,” he says as an obvious joke that I don’t find funny. “Not bad in my book.” He puts his arm around me, giving me a reassuring hug. “He knows nothing for certain. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Why would he even ask you, though?”

  “He said that none of us could look him in the eyes when he showed up that morning in Greece.”

  “That’s probably true,” I co
ncede with a sigh.

  “But again, honey. Anything he thinks happened is just an assumption on his part. I’m not going to say anything. Ever. I mean, after all, I don’t really know if anything happened, anyway. That’s an assumption on my part, too.”

  “Right,” I mumble.

  “Where is Jon today? I expected him to be right by your side, all day.”

  I tell Matty about his situation. My mom eventually comes out on the patio with us, listening to our conversation.

  “Matty, what did Livvy think about your news?” she asks.

  “What, you’re pregnant, too?” I joke with my uncle.

  “Ha.”

  “Matty’s going to move in with us for awhile,” she says.

  “What? Why?”

  “The show’s on an indefinite hiatus,” he explains, “and there’s really nothing for me in California anymore.” I hear a tinge of sadness in his voice. “I’m going to stay in the guest room while I look for a place of my own here. And I’m going to help your mom at the Art Room.”

  “Really?” I ask, looking expectantly at my mother. I can see the relief on her face and in her posture. She nods quickly with a smile. “That’s perfect.”

  “Mommy?” Trey interrupts us, poking his head out of the back door. “Daniel won’t let me watch the parade.”

  “Did you talk to Daddy?” she asks.

  “He said to talk to you.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Daddy,” Mom mumbles, getting up out of her chair and following my brother inside. “Let’s go see what they’re up to.”

  “Well, if he’s letting you stay with us, Dad must still trust you a little.”

  He cringes a little, as if keeping something from me. “Now Liv, that’s just an assumption on your part. It’s impossible for me to get into trouble when I’m living right under his nose. Literally.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  When dinner is served, Lexi and Kyle sit at the “adult” table with my parents, her parents, Clara’s mom, Jen, and her husband, Brian. Matty stays with me, Clara, Lexi’s brothers and Trey. It’s sad. When Lexi got married, I never thought she’d be so quick to move beyond us. Clara and I commiserate together. Her current boyfriend had flown home to be with his parents.

  Just after dinner, most of the family scatters to other commitments or different sides of the house. Clara and I retreat to my bedroom–after my cousin has grabbed a beer out of the basement fridge. “If you drink fast, I’ll get you one,” she offers. I decline it, though, disliking the taste.

  “Can you believe Lexi’s going to have a baby?” she asks me.

  “No, I’m in denial,” I tell her. “I know that she’s quite a few years older than me, but I still feel like we grew up together, you know? The thought of babies freaks me out.”

  “Yeah,” Clara says. “But she’ll be a good mom. You can tell. Now if it was me...”

  “That’s not even something I could imagine, Clara. You? A mom?”

  “Someday, Liv,” she says, sounding offended.

  “Well, yeah, but not now. Not anytime remotely close to now. Right?”

  “Oh, definitely not. If I got pregnant now, I’d have an abortion.” Her bluntness about this catches me off-guard.

  “Really?”

  “Totally. What would you do?” she asks.

  “Ummm... I wouldn’t get pregnant,” I tell her.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you and Jon were abstinent.” Her flippant comment is meant to be sarcastic, and it’s not lost on me.

  “No, but we’ve been extra careful when we have done it in the past.”

  “It’s easy to get carried away,” my cousin warns me. “It’ll happen to you.”

  “No, it won’t,” I tell her defensively. “We aren’t stupid.”

  “You’re calling me stupid?”

  “If you’re being careless, maybe,” I answer. “Jon and I have a lot of things we want to do before we have to be faced with such heavy decisions.”

  “What, like you have to graduate from high school?”

  “Well, that’s a pretty high priority, but no. We have dreams about school and careers.”

  “So if you found out you were pregnant tomorrow, facing your graduation and all of those dreams... you’re telling me you wouldn’t have an abortion? You’d raise a kid at seventeen? You think Jon would want to be saddled with kids while he goes to Columbia so he can realize all of his dreams?”

  I think about our conversation this past week, when he suggested applying for custody of his brothers. He may have to be saddled with his brothers because of the irresponsible actions of his mother. It still doesn’t seem fair, and I don’t like the idea of Jon being burdened with anything while he’s going to school. “I don’t know that I’d raise one, but I’d consider an adoption. I know there are a lot of families out there who want children. My mom and dad were two such parents once, remember?”

  “I remember. I was there. Can you imagine the heyday the press would have over you being pregnant, though? Can you imagine what your dad would do? I mean, pretend you had to tell him that. He’d kill you.”

  “First of all, I don’t have to imagine the press, we’ve already been through that. Remember?”

  “Oh, the ring at the funeral.”

  “Yeah. But anyway, Dad would not kill me,” I correct her. I imagine breaking such news to him, and I can envision the expression on his face, the sadness and disappointment. I know I’d never want to have to give him that sort of news. “Not only that, he’d probably help me get away from the press. Maybe we’d go out of the country for awhile or something.”

  “Oh, I forget, little rich girl has money to make all of her problems go away. We’re not all that lucky, Liv.”

  “What is with you, Clara?”

  “This is just the lamest holiday ever. I’m going to call Javi.”

  I take advantage of the first moment of peace and quiet I’ve had all day. With babies still fresh on my mind, I call Jon, hoping for a distraction.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” he says, his smile obvious.

  “To you, too,” I respond, my teeth gritted.

  “What’s wrong, Olivia?”

  “Everyone in my family is pregnant and you and I are never sleeping together again,” I blurt quickly and quietly. I know I’m overreacting, but I can’t get the image of my dad’s disappointed expression out of my head, and I never ever want to tell him such a thing.

  “Who’s pregnant?”

  “Kaydra and Lexi... and Clara’s not careful, so who knows? Maybe she’s next, but she’d abort it–”

  “Whoa,” he says, interrupting my rant. “That’s crazy.”

  “I know.” I sigh as I tap my feet in a quick rhythm on the old carpet.

  “Livvy, baby,” he says, and his voice is sweet and caring. I get butterflies in my stomach, and wrap one arm around my waist as if trying to contain them. “We are careful. Listen, out of all of your family members who may or may not be pregnant, how many do you think got that way using the pill and a condom?”

  I smile a little, seeing his logic. “None of them.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Accidents can happen, though–”

  “Which is why we use both. Plus, at this rate, we’re never going to have time alone again,” he jokes with me, but I can feel the sad realization setting in. When will we?

  “Your mom’s apartment...” I suggest meekly.

  He’s silent for a few seconds. “I don’t want to go back there until my brothers are home.”

  “I understand. How are they? Was Max happy to see you?”

  “You have no idea,” he says as his happiness quickly returns. “We drove by the schools they’ll be attending while they’re here, and you wouldn’t believe these campuses. The junior high is, like, this huge complex of new buildings and a stadium and gymnasium and track. And the elementary school has the most incredible playground,” he says. “That’s all Max needed to see to get excited
about going to school on Monday. Plus, Aunt Patty has some neighbors who have a little girl his age, and they came over for dessert, so he’ll know someone at school.”

  “Is Will okay?”

  “Liv, I didn’t know it, but he was being bullied at his school in the city. He told me about it last night. He was so thankful to have a fresh start.

  “This is hard, and it will continue to be hard without them close by, but I can’t help but think that this is some sort of blessing,” he says. “I’m just so glad that Patty was able to help with them, and with Mom. I just hope she knows what she’s getting herself into,” he adds.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just worry that Mom will quit, or relapse, and Patty will have squandered all of her savings on a lost cause. I could never forgive myself for letting that happen.”

  I bite my tongue, remembering the deal Dad had struck with Jon’s aunt. I’m confident she’ll succeed in the program. “Don’t call your mom that, Jon. She’s not.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’ve seen too much, though.”

  “I know.”

  “So, when can I see you?” he asks.

  “Will you come for dinner on Wednesday?”

  “Is that the soonest?”

  Clara comes back into my room. “Javi’s not answering.” She doesn’t care that I’m on the phone.

  “Hey, can I call you later? Clara’s here.”

  “So I hear,” he comments.

  “Go make the best of your time there,” I encourage him, “because I’m going to want an inordinate amount of attention when you come back. I miss you.”

  “Gotcha,” he says. “I miss you, too. And I love you.” I tell him the same, watching Clara roll her eyes in response.

  CHAPTER 14

  A couple weeks before Christmas, Dad, Abram and I sit in a crowded café, discussing the show my agent wants to have toward the end of the school year. He’s pushing once more to reveal my identity, but my father and I both maintain that it’s not necessary. My dad suggests he’s getting a little greedy, at which point Abram drops the issue.