by Lori L. Otto
“I feel awful,” Jon says. “I’d do anything to fix this.”
“Well, with your carefully crafted lie and my threat of a lawsuit, I think we’ll get past this relatively unscathed. But I’m sure Livvy will be haunted by that picture for quite some time,” Dad says.
“I’m sorry,” Jon sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair, looking at me remorsefully.
“Should I order in dinner?” Mom asks.
“I’m not hungry,” Dad says.
“Me, neither,” Jon adds.
“Pizza, Liv?” Mom asks.
I shrug, feeling hunger after the relief sets in.
“You two are excused, if you need to go talk for awhile,” Dad says. “Keep it in the media room.”
“I know,” I say quietly, leading the way to the basement. “What exactly happened with Hollis?”
“Just what he said. Plus, your dad can be quite imposing when he wants to be. I don’t think I needed to lie to Hollis to get him to take action. He was genuinely scared of your dad.
“But he wasn’t sure how to get the sites to take it down. That’s where I came in.”
“It’s brilliant,” I say with a smile. “Thank you for thinking of it.”
“Olivia, I am so sorry this happened.”
“I know you never meant for it to. I’m not mad at you. But I will inflict bodily harm on that ass if I ever have to see him again.”
“I’m going to request a transfer. I’m pretty sure he could get expelled for something like this, anyway. Not that I’m going to push for that... I just don’t want to share a room with someone who’s that untrustworthy.”
“Good.” I start to rub his right shoulder when I realize he’s changed clothes. “You weren’t wearing this earlier.”
“No, your dad suggested I change into something with less holes in it,” he explains with a blush. “I think he pretty much just hates everything about me right now. It was an old concert t-shirt. I didn’t expect to see any of you today, and I came over as quickly as I heard.
“Oh, and subsequently, your dad saw my tattoo.”
“He did?” After a year of Jon having the quote inked on his back, it had become a part of him that I didn’t think was so scandalous or remarkable anymore. Just sentimental–and ours, until now.
“Yeah. It never even occurred to me. I had on an undershirt so I just quickly pulled the old shirt off, and while I was putting the other on, he just said, ‘Twelfth Night. Did you get that for Livvy?’ I froze for a second, but then put this shirt on and turned around and admitted that I had. I wasn’t aware your dad knew Shakespeare so well.”
“Yeah, he does. So he wasn’t mad about it?”
“He was already in a heightened state of agitation, what with all of this happening, but it didn’t seem to make matters worse. Once we left Hollis in the dorm room, his demeanor changed entirely.”
“Like how?”
“He was really quiet. Lots of small talk. I started to think maybe I’d misunderstood you when you said you’d told them everything about that night. But obviously that wasn’t the case. I don’t guess you heard what just happened.”
“Oh, we heard.”
“Well, I didn’t mean the last part. I won’t consider waiting–that is, unless you want to.”
“I don’t.”
His smile is big.
“He’s on to us about Mykonos, though.”
“I know. I think you did a better job of keeping that to yourself than I did. I may have given it away to my mom.”
“Given what away? Nothing happened, Olivia,” he says with a smile. “That’s our truth.”
I smile and lean in to kiss him.
“I want that night to be ours and ours alone. That’s what we agreed, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I have to be honest, Liv. I’m not sure how things are going to go after tonight...”
“You held your own,” I say to him encouragingly.
“Yeah, but with Mykonos...” He pauses for a second. “I kind of hope that’s the last lie I have to tell him.”
“I don’t like lying to him either. Or to Mom.”
“It kind of feels like it’s all out there now. If he gives us the privacy I asked for, I feel like I need to give him the honesty he deserves.”
“Yeah. I’m sure it will be next to impossible for us to do anything we’d want to lie about anyway, now that they know.”
“Yeah,” he agrees regretfully. “It’s okay, Liv. We’ll get through this. You graduate in five months–”
“But I’m not eighteen for another nine and a half months. I’m pretty sure that’s the benchmark my parents will latch on to–well, that or when I move out for school next fall.”
“What in the hell did you do, Little Liv?” my uncle announces his presence from half-way down the stairs. He pauses as soon as he sees me and Jon on the couch. “That wasn’t really you, was it?”
We both nod our heads in sync, finding no point in lying to my uncle. “What we admit in the basement, though, stays in the basement. Okay, Matty?”
He laughs and agrees to my terms, going quickly to his room to set down his messenger bag. “Emi had me bring pizza home. It’s upstairs, if you’re hungry.”
“Are you going to leave?” I ask Jon.
“Nah, my computer’s going to take another three hours, at least. Jack said I could stay until it’s done.” I look at my watch and grin, happy that I’ll get some unexpected time with him. He follows me upstairs, but he stays quiet as Dad and Matty talk about current events while Mom and I eat dinner. Jon’s clearly shaken by this, because he’d normally be leading such a conversation.
After Jon leaves that evening, my mom comes down to tell me good night. “I don’t think your dad would admit it, but I know Jacks has a lot of respect for him, Livvy. I know his heart was broken when you told us what you and Jon had done, but if you two continue to be good–and to be honest with us–I think he’ll forgive him. I’m not happy that you’ve decided to grow up so fast,” she says, “but I don’t think you could have made a better choice in a first love.”
“I love him so much, Mom.”
“I know, sweetie. I truly hope it lasts. I see how invested you both are, and I’d honestly hate to see either of you hurting.”
“You like him too,” I state smugly.
“I adore him,” she admits. “But whatever happens, Livvy, just know I’m always here for you, okay?”
“Thanks, Mom.”
CHAPTER 15
Trey is the center of attention this Christmas, which is completely fine with me. After last year, I’m happy to have the focus shift to someone else.
And fortunately, it’s all good attention my brother is getting, too. Having a stress-free house is the best Christmas gift I could ask for.
After spending Christmas Eve with Frederick’s family, Jon will be spending today with mine. I’ve invited him to do everything with us over the holiday break because I know he has nowhere else to go, and I know he misses his brothers very much. I’ll do anything I can to help get his mind off of things.
Trey greets him at the door, pointing his Christmas present at my boyfriend.
“Hi, Trey,” Jon says as he smiles and waves to the small video camera. “Making a movie?”
“Yes!” my brother says excitedly. I can’t wait to hear how that will sound, with his mouth being so close to the mic. I still think he’s too young for the gift, but with Matty in the house, constantly talking about set design and movie-making, it was either the camera or a jigsaw. It was an easy choice. “Go over there,” Trey instructs Jon, pointing to me on the other side of the living room.
“Look at you,” Jon laughs as he walks in my direction.
“I wouldn’t laugh, he put makeup on Dad earlier, and if you think this looks bad...”
Unafraid of the amount of lipstick smeared across my mouth, Jon kisses me, getting his fair share of red on his own lips.
“No!” Tre
y yells, moving the camera to his side. I’m sure he didn’t pause it, and start to wonder who’s going to be editing his masterpiece. “You’re not supposed to kiss her!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, little guy,” Jon laughs as he takes a step back.
“Jackson,” Dad says, emerging from his bedroom where he’s just washed his face and looks normal once more. “That’s enough for the morning. I think you have a lot of stuff to work with. Let your sister and Jon have some time together, okay? We can pick back up this evening after Jon leaves.”
“That’ll probably be after his bedtime, Dad,” I remind him. I don’t anticipate Jon leaving before eight. My father raises his eyebrows, glaring at me.
“We should have some family time,” he says, turning away.
“We had that all morning,” I challenge him. “He’s staying until curfew–”
“Olivia–” Jon starts, but my brother interrupts our conversation.
“Can we watch the movie, Daddy?” he asks.
“You know what? Go take that down to Uncle Matty. He’d love to watch it with you.” My mom smiles a little as my brother skips down the hallway toward the basement. The red light of the camera is still on.
“He’s going to expect you to watch it, too, Jacks,” she says, directing him into the kitchen.
“I’m not into horror movies,” Dad says, “and I saw what I looked like with that stage makeup on. Hideous,” he laughs, pulling my mom into a hug. “Frightening,” he adds before giving her a quick kiss.
“He’s awfully moody,” I comment under my breath.
“Or he’s still upset with me.”
“Come with me downstairs? I need to wash my face.”
“Let’s not push it,” he answers. “I can just hang out up here.”
“Okay.” I wipe the lipstick off his face with my thumb. When I finish, he pulls me back, and kisses me again. “Well that was pointless,” I laugh. “You’re on your own.” He smiles and watches me walk away, now smearing the makeup from his lips on his own.
After I clean up, I come back upstairs and join Jon and my parents by the Christmas tree. Mom hands Jon his first gift, a present my brother helped to pick out.
“No, way!” Jon laughs, pulling back the paper. “I had no idea they made such a thing!” He studies the image of the famous building by Frank Lloyd Wright, built entirely of Legos. He looks up at my parents and smiles. “Do you think he’d like to help me put it together?”
Dad looks uninterested, and doesn’t answer. “He would love that,” Mom assures him.
“I don’t know that it would be safe in a college dorm room. Maybe I’ll keep it here, in your game room,” he suggests tentatively. “Maybe I could come by on Fridays and work on it with him?”
“Fridays are typically for–”
“We’d love to have you,” Mom says, cutting Dad off and giving him a stern look.
“Thank you.” Jon pulls a package from under the tree, one he had placed there two days ago when he was here. “For you,” he says, handing it to me.
Shaking the rectangular box, I have no idea what it is. It feels like clothes, but I can’t imagine him buying clothes for me. For a few seconds, I wonder how I will feign excitement if it’s something I don’t like.
“Go on,” he says, “open it.”
I unwrap the paper and lift the lid off the box. Underneath a layer of tissue is a folded yellow shirt–only it’s not a shirt. I lift out the garment and smile. It’s a long artist smock, cinched at the waist to be more form-fitting. I’ve never seen one quite like it.
“I love that color on you,” he says. I blush, realizing instantly it’s the same color as the silk lingerie I’d worn in Mykonos.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him, noticing my name embroidered over the top left pocket in small print, using sage green thread. Again, I’m reminded of the slip I’d worn, and I know he did this on purpose.
“What’s it say on the back?” Mom asks.
I turn it over, and on the right shoulder is a small quote, sewn in the same green thread. It’s the same place his tattoo resides on his back.
“Every child is an artist.
The problem is how to remain an artist
once we grow up.”
“Picasso said that,” I say confidently, running my fingers over the letters. I look into his eyes, feeling a little sad. Is this all it is? Am I growing up, and that’s why I can’t paint anymore?
“Very good. Donna had that up on the chalkboard during one of our classes. Remember?”
I hadn’t remembered where I’d seen the quote, but tear up when I make the connection. That had to be at least five years ago. “It truly is perfect, Jon.” I slip it on over my clothes and lean into him for a kiss, wondering if I’ll ever be able to use it.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says. “You’re not easy to shop for on a budget.”
“Well, now you just need to give her the space to wear it, and create,” my dad says, and although he’s smiling as he says it, I realize immediately that he’s accusing Jon of being the reason I’m not painting.
Jon looks at him, stunned, then turns his attention to me. “Baby, if you feel like I’m distrac–”
“You’re not,” I assure him, glaring at Dad. “Please don’t ruin this Christmas, too, Daddy,” I tell him, feigning sweetness.
“Come on,” Mom interjects, “both of you. Livvy’s right, let’s not ruin this day. We can talk about all of that tomorrow.”
“We don’t need to,” I mutter. Mom’s eyes plead with me. “Fine,” I concede. I look back down at the smock and its uplifting color.
“Jon, it’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever received,” I tell him. “I needed to replace the old one... this one’s actually stylish... and it has sentimental value–for many reasons actually.”
He nods, understanding that I get the reference to Mykonos.
“And I think it will help,” I tack on, actually feeling a little inspired.
“Your other gift is a surprise.”
“So was this one,” I remind him.
“Well, this one you’ll get in a few days.”
“You’ll love it, and I’m not telling,” Mom says. “But I’ll make sure she’s ready,” she tells Jon.
“Thank you.”
Jon opens my two presents, and I think he is truly more excited about seeing the architect than he is about the watch, but I can tell he likes both of them.
After dinner, we watch a very roughly-cut version of my brother’s movie. Matty had stayed downstairs most of the day working on it. Trey was excited to see his name in the credits flash across the screen. My favorite part was the messy kiss that Jon and I exchanged. Even my dad, who’s found it difficult to smile at all today, laughed at it.
A week later, after organizing my overnight bag, I sit on my bed next to it and look across the room to the studio. I’d worn the smock on three different occasions, but I still hadn’t painted a drop. I started a sketch one day, but it was shortly before Jon came over one evening, and I’d abandoned it in favor of more time with him. I had to take advantage of our coinciding time off from school... and he really is a good distraction when I don’t want to think about other things. After hearing the doorbell, I go upstairs.
“So what are you guys doing tonight?” I ask my uncle, Chris, and his wife, Anna, after letting them in the house. My parents had already told me they weren’t staying in this New Year’s Eve, which meant my own plans were up in the air. I knew it was a surprise from Jon. I knew I had to pack to stay elsewhere... but I also knew there was no way in hell I was going to be allowed to be alone with him.
“We are doing whatever you and Jon are doing.” Anna says excitedly.
“I thought you were going out with Mom and Dad.”
“Nope.” She scans my outfit. “That’s perfect. Oh, but change your shoes. You’ll want something more comfortable.”
“These are fine,” I argue, not wanting to take off my new heels. “Do you
know where we’re going?”
“Of course I do,” Anna says.
“My parents aren’t coming, though... right?”
“Right. They have their own plans. They wanted to do something alone for their anniversary. In fact, you’re staying with us tonight.”
“So that’s why I needed to pack,” I tell her. As I start toward the basement to get my bag, I ask if my brother’s coming with us, too.
“Stevie and Kayd get Trey tonight.”
“Cool. Wait, is Jon staying with you, too?” I ask her quietly, knowing the answer already.
“No,” Chris answers for her, rolling his eyes. “Jon gets to go back to his dorm. I’ll take him.” I knew the answer before I asked, but I had to ask. I head toward my bedroom, stopping by the bathroom once more to check myself in the mirror. I run my hand through my curls, trying to tame them a bit.
Jon steps into the basement just as I’m finishing packing.
“You look so pretty,” he says, getting my attention. Even though I’m wearing a new dress and heels, his outfit tells me we’re not going anywhere very dressy. He’s got on a pair of dark jeans and an untucked rust-colored button-down shirt, paired with a dark blue undershirt. He looks gorgeous, and my smile tells him so.
He walks into my room and puts his arms around me, giving me a long kiss. “Are my parents gone yet?” I ask him with a whisper.
“No, your dad let me in. I see he’s still angry,” he mumbles, then sighs. I know he’s frustrated by my dad’s attitude lately. I think we all are. “Oh, hey, do you have any sneakers?”
I glare at him, but return to my room and find a pair of black flats that will be more comfortable. “What are we doing tonight? And don’t say it’s a surprise. That answer has worked until now, but we’re about to leave... and although everyone else thinks I’m dressed appropriately–”
“You are,” he assures me.
“I want to be the judge of that.” Jon lets go of me and takes a few steps toward my dresser. He picks up my iPod and flicks the screen a few times, then adjusts the volume. A driving song from my favorite local band starts playing through the tiny speaker as he puts the device back where he found it. “You’re really not going to tell me?” I ask him.
