“What? Oh, yeah. She loved them! They were perfect.”
“That’s good. Dolf, why don’t you go out to the backyard? I’m sure you’d like a beer. Livie’s got a variety out there in a cooler.”
“Livie…I like that,” he said, winking at Olivia. She took him by the hand and led him outside, where the children were scrambling over the jungle gym, swinging and sliding and yelling. Jacob stood, beer in hand, talking with another father. His eyes flickered from Olivia to Dolf, and then to his hand in hers, and he stared, mouth half-opened, midsentence.
Olivia smiled her brightest smile and plucked a beer from the cooler, handing it to the Swede.
“Jacob, I’d like you to meet my friend, Dolf Johansson,” she said blithely (or what she hoped was blithely, though her heart was pounding in her chest). “Dolf, this is my, uh, my children’s father, Jacob.”
“Nice to meet you, Jacob,” Dolf said, extending a hand, which Jacob did not take. He still stared, motionless, only his eyes moving from Olivia to Dolf and back again, as though he could not absorb the words she was saying.
“Jacob? This is Dolf,” Olivia said again, eyebrows raised. Surely the man would not stand there forever. It was becoming very awkward.
“Dolf,” Jacob said slowly, as though awakening from sleep. He finally took the outstretched hand and shook, but said nothing more.
“Yeah, Dolf,” Dolf repeated, carefully, as though speaking to one slightly impaired. “I know, it’s a funny name; I got teased a lot as a kid…”
“Dolf,” Jacob said again, shaking his hand far longer than what was socially expected, until Dolf pulled gently away.
“Yes,” Dolf said.
“Okay, then,” Olivia said, slightly worried about the direction this was headed. “Dolf, would you like to help me get the pizzas ready? I have a feeling all these tummies are going to want them sooner rather than later.”
“Sure, Livie,” he said, putting his hand back into hers.
“Livie?” Jacob said.
“Yes?”
“Livie?”
“Jacob, you’re worrying me. Are you all right?” Olivia asked. Suddenly, the man came to his senses.
“Oh; sorry!” he rubbed his forehead. “I’m fine; just fine! Dolf! Delighted to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you too,” Dolf said again.
“I wish my better half was here to meet you too, her name is Ali; she’s a model,” Jacob went on. “She’s quite beautiful. She’s doing a shoot for Dillard’s today; probably underwear. You should look for her in the advertisement flyer; she’s the dark one with the cheekbones. You can’t miss her! She’s absolutely gorgeous! We’ve been together for eighteen months now.” He laughed—too loudly—and Olivia turned on her heel and went back into the house, murmuring epithets.
“Livie, that was great!” Shirley squealed under her breath as she squeezed Olivia in a tight hug. “I saw the whole thing from the window. Priceless, priceless, I’m telling you!”
“He didn’t have a thing to say, not one single thing!” Sally agreed, patting Olivia on the back vigorously. “I wish we had recorded it; the look on his face when he saw you!”
“Yeah, it was great,” Olivia muttered, and picked up a platter to put the pizzas on.
“What’s the matter?”
“Eighteen months, he says, just like that. We’ve been together for eighteen months now. His words, finally, when he found some. A year and a half. He told me they didn’t get together until after we broke up!” She felt suddenly very ill and thought she might be sick to her stomach, right there, in the kitchen sink.
Sally and Shirley stared at her then, as these words penetrated.
“He said what?” Sally said, incredulous.
“Yeah. I know.”
“That…that unbelievable bastard!”
“Yeah.”
“Olivia? Are you okay?” Dolf entered the room, concern written across his features. Olivia retrieved a pizza from the oven and began to hack it viciously into pieces.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, trying to control the anger that was burbling in her chest. She finished slicing and put the pieces on the platter. “Would you mind to take this out to the guests, Sally? Shirley, could you take the veggie tray? Thanks guys.”
With the two friends out of the room, she stepped into Dolf’s welcome embrace and laid her head upon his chest.
“I’m so angry, Dolf. I’m so angry and I don’t know how not to be,” she whispered, tears of frustration and newly-felt betrayal welling in her eyes.
“Yeah, I getcha,” he said, pressing her close and rubbing her back gently. “Your ex…he’s a real tool, you know?”
“I know. I wish I had known sooner just how much.”
“Hey, hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that. I felt the same about my ex, but you know what? We’re both so much better off without them and their bullshit,” he said emphatically. Lifting her chin, he kissed her on the forehead, the nose, and then, ever so gently, the lips. Olivia felt the knot in her chest unravel and dissipate, turning instead into the slow burn of desire. She lifted her hands to his head and buried her fingers in his long hair.
“Oh hey, sorry!” Jacob exclaimed, entering the kitchen.
“It’s cool,” murmured Dolf. “Go about your business.” Olivia giggled as he kissed her again, right in front of Jacob.
“I just needed to, um, wash my hands,” he said, and she knew it was a lie. He had come to see what they were doing. No matter. His honesty (or otherwise) was none of her concern anymore. She extricated herself from Dolf’s arms and turned to take another pizza out of the oven.
“Dolf, baby, would you cut this one up and put it on this tray, please?” she purred. “I need to go check on the birthday boy.”
“Sure hon,” he answered.
Olivia turned and walked down the hallway with Jacob close behind.
“Just what are you playing at, anyway?” he hissed into her ear, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. “Making out in the kitchen at your son’s birthday? Yeah, you’re real concerned with party details, aren’t you?”
“What are you talking about? Dolf was just giving me a kiss; we were not making out.”
“Is that guy even real? I mean, is he really your boyfriend, or did you hire him just to needle me?
And what’s with that name: Dolf? It even sounds made-up!”
Olivia turned and swung, slapping him hard across the face. Her cheeks were burning and the rage welled up once more, full and flowering and impossible to contain.
“Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? I’m not your stupid, innocent wife anymore, Jacob. I’m on my own—thanks to you—and my life is none of your business! None!”
“But my children are my business, and if I think you are neglecting them for one moment, you’ll lose all hope of keeping them, you get it?”
“Neglecting them! Neglecting—!” she could say nothing more. Too many words burbled to the surface, all of them fighting for release but none that she could say with her children present.
And present they were. Beatrice and Bradley stood in the living room doorway, eyes wide. Had they seen her slap him? She didn’t know. Bradley’s eyes were welling with tears once more, though Bea’s seemed to shine with something more like fierce joy.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, going to scoop her son into a hug. “Please don’t cry; please, not on your birthday! Come on, it’s okay. Daddy and I were just having a little fight, it’s nothing, please don’t cry.”
He buried his face in her shirt and sniffled as she wiped his eyes dry. Looking up at her, he seemed to summon courage from somewhere deep within.
“Okay, Mommy,” he said, forcing a small smile.
“That’s my brave boy,” she said, squeezing him tight.
“Yes, good boy,” said Jacob from behind her, laying his hand on Bradley’s shoulder.
“Do you want to have cake now?” Olivia asked.
“Sure.”
“Okay. Let’s sing happy birthday, and then get to those presents!”
“We better sing it quick,” Jacob said, looking at his watch. “I need to go in about half an hour. Brad, do you think you could open my present first? I definitely need to see your reaction.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
Dolf entered the hallway.
“Everything all right, Livie?” he asked.
“It’s fine, Dolf, thank you,” she answered, stuffing her feelings deep down into her guts where they could be analyzed at a later time.
“We were just going to show Brad his present from me,” Jacob said, taking the boy by the hand and leading him out the front door with the rest of the small group following.
There, on the driveway, wrapped in a giant red bow, was the latest automated, electronic, child-sized sports car. Bradley shrieked.
“Daddy! Daddy! You got me a car, Daddy! Thank you! Thank you so much!” He flung himself in to Jacob’s arms and squealed with delight.
“Yeah I did, Brad! I got you a car! For your very own! Climb in and try it out!”
“All right!”
Bradley clambered into the driver’s seat and Jacob showed him how to turn it on. Soon he was zipping around their cul-de-sac at top speed, Beatrice in the passenger’s side, both of them whooping and shouting.
“A car. Seriously. You bought him a car,” Olivia said, shaking her head at Jacob.
“I know. Pretty awesome, right?”
“You know—you know—how much I despise those things. You know how much they worry me. And still you did.”
“Come on, Olivia. I’ve wanted him to have one forever, but you were always such a killjoy about it. Look at him! He’s having a great time!”
“Of course he is! It’s a car, for god’s sake!”
“So get him a helmet. Make him look like a complete nerd. But let him keep the car, will you?” “Oh, like I could ever take it away now.”
“I have to run. I’m glad you see it that way. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jacob waved good-bye to Bradley and Beatrice and shouted that he’d see them soon as he climbed into the car and drove out of sight.
Dolf put his arm around Olivia and whispered words of comfort into her ear. They watched as the other children and parents, drawn by the noise from the backyard, each came to the front. The children pleaded for turns in the machine. One by one they had their rides, until the battery completely ran out of juice. Dolf figured out how to recharge it, but it would be hours before it would be ready to drive again. Thank God thought Olivia. Maybe now we can have a proper party.
“Who wants cake and ice cream?” she asked the group.
“Sorry Olivia, we’ve really got to run,” said a mother. “It’s already five o’clock.”
“Yeah, us too,” said another. “I’m sorry, but it got really late fast.”
It seemed that everyone had to go. The other presents sat unopened on the table, the cake uneaten. Olivia felt tears come to her eyes. What a disaster.
“Hey now, don’t let it get you down,” Shirley said, helping her clean up. “Sometimes things just don’t go the way we want them too. Sally and I, we’ll stay and sing to Bradley. And maybe you can take all these other presents and hide them in your closet. Bam, there’s Christmas, done!”
Olivia had to laugh. “Now there’s a good idea,” she said.
“I’ll stay too,” Dolf said, stacking paper plates and cups. “You know I’ll stay.”
“Thank you, Dolf.”
“What was Jacob saying to you in the hallway, anyway? I thought I heard him accuse me of being fake?”
“Yeah, he did that.”
“Oh boy. I’ve never been accused of being a gigolo before. I feel so cool.”
The women laughed. Beatrice came around the corner.
“What’s a gigolo?” she asked.
“Ask me again in a few years,” Olivia said. “Hey, can you get the matches? We’re going to sing to Bradley. Bradley, honey? Where are you?”
Bradley was in the garage, sitting in his new car. They dragged him inside long enough to light the candles and sing the birthday song. He ate cake and ice cream and Olivia asked him if he had had a good birthday.
“The greatest!” He exclaimed, not the least bit perturbed that his guests had left before the party had even properly gotten a start. “I got a car!”
“I know, honey,” Olivia sighed, unspeakably weary. “I know. And I will be getting you a helmet to wear when you’re driving it. Just so you know.”
“Aw, mom.”
“Aw nothing. I’m not going to have your brains splattered all over the pavement, no matter what your father thinks.”
“Okay.”
“Anyway, you’re five now! What do you want to do tonight?”
“Drive my car some more?”
“Absolutely not. It’s getting dark already. Come on, son; surely there’s something else that sounds good to you?”
“Star Wars!”
“Good idea! We’ll make some popcorn and watch Star Wars. You can sleep in the living room, okay? Does that sound like a good birthday treat?”
“Yeah!”
Sally and Shirley said their good-byes and left. The children got into their pajamas and set up their sleeping bags in the living room in front of the television, and Olivia popped the corn while Dolf regaled them with stories of his childhood summers spent in Sweden. Finally, all was ready. Olivia passed out the snacks and sat down beside Dolf on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her and snuggling into his side. He kissed the top of her head as she started the movie. Before the famous words were done scrolling, she was fast asleep.
FOUR
The view was breathtaking. An expanse of blue outside the wall of picture windows, it showcased the magnificent Pacific Ocean in all its crashing splendor.
“Amazing,” Olivia breathed, gazing out as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured into her ear, brushing her hair aside and kissing her neck. She leaned back into his sturdy five-foot-eight frame and closed her eyes, feeling all the tension of the day melt into oblivion. He stroked the side of her cheek.
Turning, she lifted her lips to his generous mouth, passionate and pleading in equal measure. Running his fingers through her hair, he then caressed her smooth shoulders and back until his hand met her zipper. The red silk chemise fell to the floor without a sound. Lowering her gently to the flokati rug, he—
Thunder shook the house and Olivia awoke with a start. Rain coursed down and hail pelted the window, a cacophony loud enough to make her heart beat even more erratically than it already was.
“Dolf?” she called softly. No answer. She saw a white square on the coffee table and read the quick note that he had penned to her, having left when the movie ended. She slipped off the sofa and peeked at Beatrice and Bradley in their sleeping bags to make sure they weren’t frightened of the storm. They were sleeping soundly. She sighed and headed towards the kitchen. Might as well have the last of the ice cream.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“So you’ll do it? You’ll come with me?” Tad was beaming, smile spreading across his freckled face.
“I said I’d come. I can’t promise I won’t chicken out at the last minute. But I’ll be there to cheer you on!”
“Great! I’ll pick you up at five!”
He walked back to his cubicle and Olivia wondered if she was crazy, or if agreeing to go to the audition with Tad was a good idea after all. Whatever the case, she had committed now and she had to follow through. Tad said they had to recite a monologue. She knew all the words from Dr. Seuss’s What Was I Scared Of? simply from reading it to her children so often, so she supposed that would have to do. When she was in high school she had never been nervous, but stepped onto the stage with all the confidence and assurance of a seasoned veteran. The years had taken their toll, however, and now the thought of going up on
stage made multiple butterflies flutter in her stomach.
Still, his mother had offered to keep the kids for her while they auditioned, and that warmed her heart greatly. She was sure that the children would enjoy their time with Francine. When she told Beatrice and Bradley the plan for the evening, they were excited too.
“So you might be in a play, Mom? A real big play, like downtown?” Beatrice asked.
“Well, not the biggest kind of play, no. Not like, at the Brady Theater, or the PAC. Just a smaller, local theater group. And there are no guarantees that I would even get a part.”
“Yeah you will,” she said. “You’ll get a great part. And then we can come see you perform!” “You’ll be famous!” Bradley said.
“No, I won’t be famous, honey,” she laughed. “It’s just a little something for fun, to do for me, since I mostly just get to work these days. Are you sure you guys won’t mind me being away from home a lot of nights for a while? You won’t mind staying with Ms. Francine?”
“No way!” Beatrice said. “I liked her. She was really cool.”
“Yeah. She was a nice old lady,” Bradley said.
“Please don’t call her an old lady, honey, that’s not nice,” Olivia stressed, certain that Francine’s forgiving nature would stretch only so far.
“But isn’t she old?”
“Well, yes, but we don’t say that people are old. It hurts their feelings.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Just don’t do it, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
At five o’clock Tad and Francine were knocking at her front door, and she opened it with considerable trepidation.
“Hello, darling,” Francine said, kissing her on the cheek. “You look wonderful!”
“Do I? I changed like, fifty times.”
Francine’s laughter rang through the house.
“I totally understand. But I think you landed on the right thing. Slacks and a lovely poet’s blouse say artiste. Plus, you can often see right through a dress when a person’s on stage.”
Kissing Robert Page 6
