Olivia

by Lori L. Otto

  “Because I was the only one sleeping at night with the energy to try the next evening,” I tell her. I look at Jon. “Trey made sure my parents never slept. For, like, three years.”

  “He loved attention,” Grandma Holland says.

  “Still does,” I remind her.

  “But if I remember correctly, you spent the first two years here sleeping tucked in between them in their bed.”

  “I don’t think so,” I say with a smile, knowing that I did. If I fell asleep somewhere else, I’d make my way to their room in the middle of the night. Some nights, though, they’d tuck me in with them. I was just as spoiled as Trey.

  “Wanna hold her?” I ask Jon.

  “I don’t want to wake her,” he says.

  “Can you take Holland for a second?” Lexi asks, standing up and holding out her swaddled baby boy to Jon.

  “Sure,” he says, obviously reluctant and pulling his arm from across my shoulders. Lexi sets him down into Jon’s awkwardly cradled arms.

  “You won’t hurt him,” she assures him.

  Holland wakes up as soon as he realizes he’s with someone else. “What are you looking at?” Jon asks him softly, staring into the baby’s blue eyes. “Huh? Who’s that weird man holding you? And where’s your daddy? Where’s your daddy?” he asks again in a sweet voice, touching the tip of his finger to his nose. I swear Holland smiles at him. My stomach flips, for the first time truly seeing him as a father.

  “Grandma Holland? Can you take her?” I say abruptly, moving away from the couch and handing off the baby quickly. “I’ll, ummm... I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I go to the backyard, walking directly to the swing in the corner. As much as we’ve talked about a future, it’s all seemed hypothetical. It has never felt more real than it feels right now. Is that what he wants? To settle down and have babies?

  Do I want that?

  Feeling as if I’m hyperventilating, I put my head between my knees, suddenly terrified. I love Jon more than anything, but I don’t want that domestic life. Not now. Maybe not even anywhere in the near future.

  I hear the back door close. Jon walks toward me, his hands raised in a defensive posture.

  “No babies for at least twenty years,” he says with a sigh of relief.

  “Perfect,” I agree.

  He starts laughing. “Your grandfather asked me when we were going to give him grand-babies.”

  “Which one?”

  “Your mom’s stepdad.”

  “Good lord,” I sigh. “To be fair, he’s a little senile.”

  “Well, then Grandma Hennigan told me I reminded her of Jack with Trey. I couldn’t get rid of the baby fast enough. And then I realized that must be what happened to you.”

  “Exactly. But I didn’t need anyone to verbalize it. My imagination scared the shit out of me enough.”

  Jon takes my hand in his as he sits down. “I want children. I do not want children soon.”

  “I don’t know when I’ll want children,” I admit quickly.

  “That’s fine.”

  “Or if.”

  He looks at me. “I think you’ll change your mind.”

  “Jon–”

  “Olivia, we aren’t having this talk right now. We’re not having that talk for years. We could both change our minds a million times before that sort of decision needs to be made. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” He picks up our hands and kisses the back of mine. “I just want you now. All to myself.”

  “Okay,” I smile, leaning in to kiss him.

  “So I hear your dad and uncle, Chris, are pretty competitive with grilling.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Who’s the best?” he asks.

  “Chris,” I tell him. “But I will deny that I ever said that if you tell anyone.”

  “So you do still lie to Dad sometimes.”

  “He has a gentle ego,” I say to Jon, who laughs.

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “Well, you can try your honesty with him, but I think he might be more hurt by losing a grilling competition to Chris than he was by me losing my virginity.”

  “I highly doubt that, too,” Jon says, “but I’m not going to find out.”

  “You’re a smart man.”

  “So the movie’s at eight. Do you think we can make it?”

  “Of course. I’m looking forward to it. Did you find a bad movie?”

  “I did. We should be the only ones there.”

  “Good.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got to make tonight count, since you’re going to be spending tomorrow night with every guy in your class.”

  “You make me sound so slutty!” I tease him.

  “I still can’t believe your dad trusts that lot of jerks over me.”

  “Um, remember. He and Kaydra’s brother, Danny, are both chaperoning the lock-in.”

  “Of course I remember,” he says with a smug smile. “It’s the only way I’d be okay with this stupid all-night thing.”

  “You know I’ll probably be tucked in a corner on the phone with you anyway.”

  “No. I won’t let you. You’ve known these people all your life. Even if they aren’t your best friends, they’re people you’ll miss in some way. Enjoy your last night as kids.”

  “Okay, old man,” I say to him sarcastically. “I grew apart from most of my friends when I skipped tenth grade, remember?”

  “You’ll have fun,” he assures me with a smile. “You’ve got Finn, at least,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

  “He’s no you,” I tell him.

  After spending the rest of the afternoon as far away from the babies as we could get without being rude, we rejoin everyone for dinner. Both Jon and I eat just enough to taste both Holland steaks, but we’re quick to escape the party, wanting some time away from the chaos.

  “You win, hands down, Dad,” I tell my father.

  “Thanks, Contessa,” he says. “Midnight?” he asks me before I leave.

  “One?” I counter. “I’ll be a high school graduate tomorrow. One eensy-weensy little hour more. Please?”

  He considers it, glancing away briefly from the grill. “Be home at twelve-thirty. Jon can stay until one... but he has to find his own way home.”

  “Deal.” He leans down so I can kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “See you at graduation tomorrow, Jon,” my dad says to him, putting his tongs down to shake his hand.

  “See you then,” Jon says.

  “Sorry, Chris,” I tell my uncle, giving him a hug and whispering in his ear. “Sorry I can’t give you the credit you deserve. That was incredible.”

  He’s grinning from ear to ear when I pull away. “I’ll get him next time,” he says with a laugh.

  Jon leads through the house on the way to my car, and we tell my family members goodbye on the way. Even though my grandparents will be sleeping at our house tonight, I’m still excited that Jon and I get a little more time together.

  “So I was thinking, movie first, then going and visiting my uncle at his bar to celebrate. Virgin drinks, of course.”

  “You think it’s okay?”

  “I know it is. He invited us. He said he’d save a booth in the back.”

  “Virgin drinks,” I say with a sigh, getting into the passenger seat of my car. “Remember our first date?”

  “Of course I do, baby.”

  “I was a different girl back then.”

  “Yeah,” he says simply, still smiling. “I love you, Olivia.”

  “Oh,” I say, caught off guard by his sweet admission. “I love you too.” We lean over the console and kiss before Jon pulls into the street. He takes my left hand in his as he drives, his fingers fumbling with my ring.

  “Wish we could be alone,” he says, contemplative.

  “Maybe I’ll have a lot more freedom after tomorrow,” I suggest. “You never know. I’ll be doing workshops weekday mornings, but I’ll be free most af
ternoons.”

  “I hope you’ll be doing a lot more painting.” I smile at him, feeling no pressure, and beginning to feel more confident in my abilities again.

  “I hope so, too. And I hope they’ll let me go to the loft to paint. I can’t imagine that they’re going to keep me away from there.”

  “I can’t imagine that they’ll let you go alone,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t see that happening.”

  “I think I’ll be able to concentrate better over there. Something about that place truly is inspiring. They want to encourage me, right?”

  “Right.” He glances to me and nods his head. “I guess stranger things have happened.”

  “They may put an ankle monitor on you, though,” I joke with him.

  “Probably won’t be necessary,” he says, swallowing hard. “I don’t want to break his rules. I don’t want to be a distraction, either. You’ve done so much in the past month. Oh, I meant to tell you, I showed a picture of that abstract landscape–the green one–to one of my professors, and he was interested in buying it. He just needs to know how much. I got his card. Remind me to give it to you later.”

  “Cool,” I say. “Maybe Dad doesn’t need to find me a new agent. Maybe you’ve got a new career ahead of you,” I tease him.

  He hardly responds at all, keeping his eyes on the traffic in front of us.

  “Jon? Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m fine,” he says. “I’m just thinking about things... this summer, next year.”

  “Oh, I told my dad that I’d probably be staying at the loft on weekends next year.”

  “Really? How’d he take that?”

  “I could tell he didn’t really want to talk about it... about you, in that scenario. He made me promise to be open to making other friends.” I see a distinct frown now. “Jon, I could make a million friends, but they won’t keep me from you. If we want to stay together at the loft once I turn eighteen, then we’ll do that.”

  “Even if your parents hate the idea? You’d go against them?”

  “Details,” I say, blowing off his concern. “I’d do anything for you. We’ll figure it out, Jon.”

  “Yeah, we will. Whatever comes our way, Liv. We can overcome anything. Right?”

  “Of course,” I laugh, squeezing his hand in assurance.

  There are two girls watching the movie Jon had picked out, but they’re sitting at least seven rows in front of us, heckling the movie and paying no attention to us. It’s one of our favorite theaters, where the arm rests can be moved out of the way. We normally confine our activities to two seats, but sometimes a foot or hand manages to occupy a third.

  Halfway through the movie, Jon’s hand moves beneath my skirt and up my leg. I’d let him do this a few times, but I normally am so afraid we’ll get caught that I can’t really enjoy anything.

  “No, Jon,” I whisper, moving his hand back down to my knee.

  “Please,” he breathes. “I need you, Olivia.” His lips spread kisses over my neck and collarbone.

  “Well, you can’t have me here,” I tell him.

  “Then where?” His hand moves to my side, clutching me firmly beneath my ribs. His eyes convey his desire before his lips press hard against mine again. I sit up straight, scooting closer to him and returning his desperate kiss.

  “I don’t know,” I sigh when we break away. “I take it Fred’s in your dorm room?”

  “Yeah. Maybe we could get a hotel room... here.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask him, pushing him away. “In Manhattan?”

  “I’m not thinking clearly.”

  “I can see that.” I settle into my seat, straightening out my skirt and crossing my arms in frustration. The second my eyes focus on the screen, he puts his fingers on my cheek and makes me look at him.

  “Livvy, this is the last Saturday we’ve got together for awhile.”

  I stare at him, confused. “What? Why?”

  “Can we talk about it after?”

  “After what? The movie we’re not even watching? After you take me? Here? Now?” I ask sarcastically, my voice louder.

  “Shhh...” he says. I glance at the two girls in front of us. They’re both looking back. “Let’s get out of here.” I follow him as he swiftly leaves the theater.

  “Did you get a job?” I ask when we get to the lobby. “And I mean, it’s not a big deal. We’ll have every other night, right?” I laugh lightly. He’s not even smiling. “Or we’ll have a few other nights... right?”

  “I’m leaving Wednesday for Utah.”

  “You’re what?” I ask him, not believing what I’m hearing.

  “I’m going to spend the summer with my family.” I stare hard, waiting for the punchline. Facing me, he runs his hand down my arm and links his fingers with my pinky, his gaze never leaving mine.

  “No, you’re not,” I tell him, pulling my hand free and walking out the front door.

  “Livvy, wait,” he says as he follows me. I turn around and slap him across the face. Stunned, he puts his hand on his cheek. “What the hell?”

  “When were you planning on telling me this?” I yell.

  “Tonight,” he says.

  “After you got laid, though. Right? That was your plan.”

  “Liv, there are peop–”

  “I don’t care!” I holler even louder. “Was that your plan?”

  “I just told you. So, no, it wasn’t my plan. I just wanted tonight to be special. I still want it to be, Olivia. Just calm down.”

  “I’m not gonna calm down! I... I...” I don’t even know where to begin. “Give me my key,” I tell him, holding out my hand.

  “No.”

  “Give me the damn key!”

  “Can we go somewhere and talk about this? Please?”

  “What, are you going to convince me that this is okay with me? No. You’re not. We’ve been talking about this summer for almost two years, Jon!”

  He takes my elbow in his hand and starts to walk me down the sidewalk. When I turn around, I see a small group of people who had gathered to watch us fight. I hear one of them whisper my name. Another one snaps a picture of us with her cell phone.

  “This is a private fight,” I seethe, directing my anger at her.

  “It’s a public place,” she says, taking another picture. Jon has to physically pull me to go with him, because I just want to take that stupid phone out of her hands and throw it into traffic.

  “Come on,” he says. “Put your head down, and come with me.”

  “I don’t care that people think I’m mad at you Jon,” I tell him. “I’m furious!”

  “Well, I don’t want to make a scene. This is private. I’d like to discuss it with you in private.” I put my head down like he asked, pulling my long hair in front of my shoulders to shield my face. He takes me into a café, pushing through the crowd up front who’s watching a folk singer and walking to the back hallway near the bathrooms.

  “How long have you known this?”

  “I...” he stutters. “A month, I don’t know.”

  I pull away from him as hard as I can, finally freeing myself. I put my hand down the front left pocket of his jeans to get the key to my Audi. I clasp it in my hand, but he holds my wrist hard, attempting to pry the key away with his other hand. “Don’t try to go, Livvy. We aren’t finished.”

  “Don’t go?! You’re telling me not to go? I just want to go home, Jon. I’m not moving to freaking Utah! If we can’t have a conversation about that decision, I shouldn’t have to ask your permission to go home.”

  “It’s just for the summer, Liv. A matter of weeks–”

  “Months!” I correct him. “And I can’t be without you for months,” I whine.

  “Olivia,” he says sternly. “You can. It’s not like I’m breaking up. We’re still together, just not living near one another. We’re strong enough to do this.”

  “What, do you expect me to just sit here alone and wait? That’s not fair!”


  “Yeah, that’s what I’d expect,” he says angrily. “I’m not thinking of being with anyone else, and I can’t wait to come back to you at the end of the summer, but this is something that I have to do for my family. Period. It’s not your decision to make. It’s mine.”

  “This is our life!” I plead, my tears streaming at this point. “I thought you wanted to be with me!”

  “We’re apparently going to be spending every freaking minute together once school starts anyway!” He looks stunned after he says it.

  “Is that a problem with you?” Taken aback at his admission, I relax my muscles just enough at this statement that he proceeds to take the key from me, stuffing it back in his pocket. I can barely move, much less fight again for my key. “Well?”

  “I can’t take this anymore. I promised your dad I’d let you make this decision, but I can’t keep this in. I feel smothered already. I need space. I need room to breathe. I know Jack thinks I want you to come to Columbia with me, but all I want is for you to find yourself again. I want you to have a life independent of mine.”

  “You don’t want me to come to Columbia?”

  He doesn’t answer me, and I try to think back to all of our conversations about college. I never realized he felt this way.

  “Wait, what does my dad have to do with this?”

  “‘Don’t limit her choices, Jon,’” he says, making his voice deeper to mock my father. “’Let her make the decision,’ he said. After all these months! After the way he’s treated me, I still did what he asked! Even though it wasn’t what I wanted.”

  “That’s not true!” I argue, starting to cry.

  “It is true.” He’s genuinely upset with me. “I have my own life to live. And it’s not that I don’t want you to come with me, Liv. It’s that I don’t want you to miss out on better opportunities. You don’t belong at Columbia.”

  I shake my head, still not wanting to believe him. Of course it’s true, though. Dad had pleaded with me to make the decision on my own. And I did. I’d felt supported by Jon until tonight. I thought we both wanted the same thing. “He told you not to interfere?” I ask for clarification.

  “Yeah.” He looks so angry right now that it’s hard to maintain eye contact.