Olivia

by Lori L. Otto

  “Whatever you want to do,” he cuts me off and leaves my room. “See you upstairs.” I return to the bathroom, pulling the towel off of my head on the way. My wet hair falls down my back in knots. I think about drying it, but remember what’s motivating me.

  Jon’s upstairs, alone, with my family, after spending the night in my bed. I have no idea how many lies he’s had to tell at this point–nor do I know what they are. I hate this.

  After brushing my hair, I quickly pull it back in a messy French braid. I put some powder on my face and run some gloss over my lips, then shut off the lights and run upstairs.

  “There she is,” Jon says, immediately standing up off the couch as soon as he sees me. My whole family is in the living room with him. “Good morning, Olivia,” he says with a forced smile, crossing the foyer to get to me.

  “Hi,” I say, holding my arms out for a hug.

  “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” he whispers in my ear, “and Angelotti’s for dinner. You had antipasto and eggplant parmesan.”

  “I hate eggplant,” I whisper back, tucking my head into his shoulder to hide my lips.

  “So I learned,” he says, letting go. “But you liked it last night,” he whispers, raising his eyebrows and nodding to me.

  “Gotcha.”

  “Where’d you get that shirt?” Mom asks. Of course she notices. Jon hadn’t put two and two together until she poses the question. He lets me answer.

  “Goodwill,” I say, looking down at it. “I thought I could paint in it.”

  “Goodwill?” Dad asks.

  “What?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders and leading Jon into the empty kitchen. “They have cool vintage things sometimes.” I’d never been in a Goodwill before, and had no idea where there even was one.

  “Ahhh,” Dad says, following us closely. “And here I thought you were trying to save me money.”

  “Well, it’s a win-win.” Dad chuckles under his breath as the three of us take seats at the formal dining room table. Mom and Kelly bring Trey and Nikki in, getting them situated before going back into the kitchen to get food.

  “Emi, please, take a seat,” my aunt encourages her. “Livvy said she’d help.” I look up at her surprised, but quickly recover as I jump from my seat and return to the kitchen.

  “There’s lipstick on the collar of that shirt,” she says. “You couldn’t find anything else?”

  “Kelly, Dad was coming downstairs. It was the first thing I grabbed. Just go with it, okay?” She shuts her eyes and shakes her head, taking a few deep breaths. “What do you need help with?”

  “Put some bread in the toaster,” she says, “and then go take your mom and dad some coffee.”

  “Kelly!” My uncle’s voice makes both of us jump.

  “Matty,” she says with a sigh. “I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

  “You makin’ us breakfast?” he asks giving her a hug.

  “Yes, how do you like your eggs?”

  “Over-easy,” he says, coming over to me after I start the toaster. He hugs me and picks me up off the floor. I can hear him sniff. “You smell like sweat and men’s cologne and–” he says quietly in my ear.

  “Is it that bad?”

  “Smells quite good to me,” he says, setting me down. “So yeah. It’s that bad. Is this Jon’s shirt?” He grabs a piece of cantaloupe from a bowl on the island.

  “No,” I say loudly, because I’m sure my parents heard the question. “Go say hi to Mom and Dad,” I tell him with a glare, letting him know that they’re home. “And Jon,” I add as he covers his mouth in surprise.

  “I can’t wait to hear this story,” he says, leaning in to me quickly on his way into the dining room.

  “Should I change?” I ask Kelly.

  “It does smell like Jon,” she admits as if that’s a bad thing. It’s one of the reasons I don’t want to take it off, though. “If it was me...”

  “I’m going.” I rush back down to my room, finding one of my favorite sweaters and pulling it on quickly. Checking myself in the mirror, I look at myself in disgust. I wasn’t going to lie to them again. This all happened so quickly, I never even had time to think.

  With Jon’s shirt in hand, I go back up the stairs. “Kelly, you may not want to go in the dining room right now,” I tell her, breezing through the kitchen.

  “Liv–” she tries to stop me, but doesn’t continue.

  Matty has taken my seat at the table, in between Jon and Trey. Mom is talking to Nikki, playing with her hair and making her laugh.

  “Mom? Dad?” Everyone looks up at me. I look directly at Jon, trying to communicate with my eyes what I’m about to do. He looks confused, and then grows even more uncomfortable as my parents turn their attention to him to see what I’m looking at.

  “Jon, you may want to go,” I suggest. He puts his napkin on his still-empty plate and pushes his chair back, standing up. He walks up to me and takes my hand in his, squeezing it quickly. I let go, but he doesn’t. I look up at him, wondering what he’s doing.

  He’s just waiting for me to continue, and isn’t going to make me do this alone.

  “This isn’t Kelly’s fault,” I start.

  “Should the kids be in here?” Matty asks.

  “It’s fine. Mom, Dad... Jon and I came home last night after our date and went downstairs to hang out until curfew.” I didn’t see any point in telling them about the extended curfew Kelly’d given. “We fell asleep,” I admit. “That’s all that happened,” I say, not thinking anything we did in my bedroom was so shocking and unexpected for two young people in love. I certainly wasn’t going to give any details, but they knew we made out often. “But we didn’t wake up until...” I look down for my watch, realizing I didn’t put it on. Jon holds his wrist up to me.

  “Twenty minutes ago?” he says, looking at me for agreement.

  “Yeah. It was about eight.”

  “Nothing happened,” Jon reaffirms. “It was a long day of packing, and moving stuff,” he says, “and I guess we were both a little more worn out than either of us realized.”

  “This isn’t okay, Livvy,” my dad says. “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks, what?”

  “No going out for two weeks,” he asserts.

  “Yes, sir,” Jon says.

  “Okay,” I respond, feeling that his punishment is fair.

  “Jon, sit down and have breakfast with us,” Mom says. We both look at Dad, who doesn’t acknowledge Mom’s invitation, simply putting his napkin in his lap. My boyfriend walks back over to his seat, and Matty stands to give me my chair back. I finally catch sight of my aunt’s face, and she’s completely pale, confused by what she’s witnessing. My uncle walks her back into the kitchen, and they both return with plates of food a few minutes later.

  After breakfast, I ask if I can take Jon back to his dorm, but they tell me no. Jon’s quick to tell me he’s fine taking a cab or a bus. I walk him out the front door, and we both sigh in relief as we walk down the front stoop.

  He starts laughing in disbelief. “Last year’s Jack Holland would have had me pinned up against a wall,” he says. “Instead, he allows me to sit at the table and have breakfast with you. Granted, it was a bit intimidating, but still.”

  “Yeah, and now you get to go home. I have to go back in for a lecture, I’m sure,” I tell him begrudgingly.

  “Awww,” he says with mock sincerity. “You’ll be fine. I’m really proud of you, baby,” he says, wrapping his arms around me as we hit the street corner. “That would have been the most uncomfortable meal in the history of meals if we would have had to continue with the string of horrible lies I’d been weaving. I wasn’t prepared for this morning,” he continues to chuckle.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny,” I say, unable to contain my own laughter. “Is it worth not getting to see me for two weeks?” I ask him softly, not letting go of him. I watch his face, waiting for his answer. His eyes look to the sky, as if he’s remembering our night together.
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br />   “Liv, honey,” my mom calls from the porch. “Come on. You’re grounded, remember?”

  I keep my eyes on Jon until he answers. “Almost. It was a great night, wasn’t it?”

  I kiss him quickly. “The best,” I assure him as we start to pull away from one another. We both hold on to his dress shirt, each of us playfully tugging at it as we stare at one another.

  “Keep it,” he says, letting go. “It looked so sexy on you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, backing away and holding the shirt into my stomach.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you,” I return. Jon waves to my mother before crossing the street, heading toward the bus stop.

  By the time I get to the porch, Kelly and Nikki are both telling my mother goodbye. My aunt looks worried.

  “Kelly, he doesn’t blame you,” I tell her, assuming that’s what has altered her mood.

  Both she and Mom look at me. Mom smiles warmly. “Go to your room, Liv. Your Dad needs you.”

  I’d known the lecture was coming. I take a deep breath, put my chin up and go down the stairs, ready for another uncomfortable talk with my father.

  My dad is sitting at one of my work benches on the studio side of my bedroom, his back to me.

  “I’m ready, Dad.” I see his shoulders move slightly, but he doesn’t turn around. “Dad?” I walk up to him, sensing he’s not angry, but something worse.

  In his right hand is a picture of me, one that Mom and Dad had taken shortly after the adoption was finalized. In his left hand is Teddy. His thumb strokes the corduroy fabric of the toy’s overalls.

  “I vowed this day that you wouldn’t date until you were twenty-five,” he says with a laugh. “Emi made me reconsider. We compromised at twenty-one.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. He sets the photo down and puts his hand on mine.

  “You’re as good as grown up as you’re going to get, it would seem. I certainly didn’t think we’d be having conversations about boyfriends sleeping over while you were still in high school.”

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” I suggest. “I know it was a mistake. We didn’t mean for it to happen. And, Dad, we wouldn’t dream of... you know...” He holds up his hand to stop me from saying anything more on the subject.

  “I should hope not,” he says. “I find it disrespectful.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not that progressive, Contessa.”

  “I know this, Dad,” I laugh. “I don’t expect you to be. Especially while I’m still in high school.”

  “Ever,” he says. “In this house, never. Not until you’re married.”

  “Okay,” I say, accepting his rule.

  “Remember when the biggest problem you had was when Teddy here popped some stitches?” he asks. “Remember that?”

  “That was a pretty big problem for me,” I remind him. “I threw fits.”

  “I know,” he says, “but the tears would be gone in fifteen minutes. Teddy was an easy fix.”

  “Daddy? I don’t have a problem with this punishment, if that’s what you think. I’m not going to throw any fits. I don’t think your rules are unreasonable, believe it or not.”

  “It’s not your problem I’m worried about. I have a problem with this.”

  “With what?”

  “All of it.”

  “Jon?”

  “Just... where you two are with your lives...”

  “Dad, I can’t solve that problem. He’s not going away in fifteen minutes. And contrary to what you may think, I don’t think our situation needs to be fixed. I think it’s pretty good as it is.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “You used to like him.”

  “I did, Liv. And I guess I still do. I’m angry that he’s taken my little girl, but I know he’s a good kid, deep down. I try not to question him. I just wish things hadn’t gotten so serious between the two of you. It’s just going to complicate things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Everything. Every decision you make in the immediate future... you’re no longer doing things for you, you’re doing things for you and him.”

  “Dad, that’s not true.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and produces an envelope, handing it to me.

  Yale Admissions. My hands start to shake.

  “Where’d this come from?”

  “It was in the mailbox when I checked it this morning. I guess it came yesterday.”

  I pause before opening it, sighing heavily as I do. Dad stops me, grasping my wrist loosely. “Please, Liv. Leave him out of this decision.” I look at him curiously, and continue opening the letter. Quickly, I pull out the contents and scan the first sentence of the top page.

  Dear Ms. Holland:

  Congratulations on your admission to Yale College...

  “I got in,” I tell him somberly, but a smile spreads across my face naturally. I got into Yale. He stands up and hugs me tightly.

  “Contessa, I am so proud of you.” His grin is bigger than I’ve seen it in a long time, and that makes me sad. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I’m not going to go to Yale. I can’t.

  “Did you pull strings, Dad?”

  “Absolutely not,” he tells me. “You did this on your own, Livvy.”

  Genuine excitement rushes over me, and I let it. “I got in!”

  “Are you happy about this? I can’t tell,” he says, looking surprised.

  “Happy?” I temper my response. I’m happy, but I don’t want to get his hopes up. “I mean, I have options, so...”

  “Options?”

  “Yale, Parsons and Columbia.” I remember back to last night’s conversation with Jon about Columbia. I was one-hundred-percent certain that I wanted to go to college with him before our date. Regardless of the fight we had, it only nudged that percentage down to, like, ninety-eight-percent.

  “Wait, what?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me. “You’re going to consider it?”

  “Sure.” I nod to reiterate my point. There’s a two-percent chance.

  Quickly, he comes over to me and hugs me again, this time lifting me up off the ground. He hasn’t hugged me like this in so long. “I’m so proud of you, Livvy.” It sounds as if he’s choked up. I hug him tighter.

  “What’s all the commotion?” Mom asks, coming into my room with Trey and Matty in tow.

  “Our baby got into Yale, Poppet,” he says with a sigh of relief.

  “You did?” Mom asks. The excitement comes back, seeing the anticipation in her eyes. My feelings, my face, they betray the eventual choice I have to make. I didn’t think I’d care one way or another with Yale... but I’m happy I got in, too. “Honey, that’s great!” She joins our hug.

  “You’re going away to school?” my little brother asks. My mom and dad let go of me, waiting for my answer.

  I look at them both, thinking my answer is obvious, but I guess they still need to hear it. I kneel down on the floor to talk to Trey. “Yeah, buddy, I’ll be moving out, no matter where I go. I’ll come see you all the time. Maybe every weekend, who knows?” I hold out my arms for a hug, waiting for him to join me.

  “Can I have her room, Daddy?” he asks. I pick up a pillow off the floor and throw it at him as he starts to laugh.

  “I bet you want to talk to Jon about this,” Mom suggests.

  “We’ve talked about it a little,” I tell them both. “Yesterday, in fact. There’s a lot to consider.”

  “Do you want to call him?” Dad asks.

  “Can I?” I’m not sure of the terms of my grounding.

  “For this news? Sure.”

  “Congrats, Little Liv,” Matty says before he closes the door.

  “So phone calls are allowed this time?” Jon asks when he picks up the phone.

  “I got special permission for this call, yeah.”

  “What do you want?” he asks me in his sexiest voice.

  “I want you to know that I... uh, got in to Yale.”

  “Did you?�
�� he asks, his tone becoming immediately upbeat. “Well, hell, I knew you would, but you got the letter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s great, baby.”

  “I guess.” I remember our fight yesterday. Up until then, I thought we were on the same page with what we wanted next year. For once, I think he and my father might be in agreement on something. Dad wants me to go to Yale; Jon wants me to consider it... and deep down, I know I would love it. I just don’t think I’ll love it as much as I love Jon.

  “Do what’s best for you, Olivia.”

  “Don’t you want me at Columbia with you?” I ask meekly.

  “I’ll be with you, wherever you decide to go to school. In a perfect world, we’d find one school that had exactly what we both want. It’s not a perfect world, though. Compromises will have to be made, one way or the other.”

  “I don’t want to compromise you.”

  “Please... leave me out of your decision, Liv.” The words come quickly in nearly a whisper, as if he didn’t really want me to hear. I don’t think he means it.

  “I can’t,” I admit. “That’s like you telling me to leave you out of my life... my future. And I want you there. I choose you, Jon, always. Above everything else.”

  “Take me out of the equation.”

  “Jon...”

  “I can’t be your everything, baby. That’s too much pressure for me.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” I clarify. “I just want you to know how important you are to me.”

  “You prove that to me often. Every time you tell me you love me... and the frequency of use of those three words will not diminish whether you’re here or a few hours away.”

  “I don’t want to fight about this,” I tell him.

  “I don’t either. You know what? Let’s just live in the moment. Let’s not let any uncertainty cloud our time together. We just need to make the most of the time we have,” he says. “Consider your options. I’ll stay out of it. Let’s just keep moving forward, and when you’ve made a decision, I’ll support whatever it is. Let’s enjoy our time together.”

  “Okay. What do you need?” I hope the question takes him back to last night, and puts him back into the mood he’d been in earlier.

  “Oh, Liv,” he sighs. “You. Do you think we can make that happen soon?” he laughs.