Kissing Robert

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Kissing Robert Page 11

by Jennifer Wilson


  “What’s wrong?”

  She gathered her things, slipping her arms in the coat hastily and throwing the scarf around her neck. How she would get home, she did not know, she only knew that she needed to be out of the apartment, and quickly. She threw the door open and ran outside into the evening dusk, gasping for breath.

  “Olivia!” Dolf cried again. “What’s wrong?”

  She clattered down the stairs, past the studio where they had spent the delightful afternoon, and down the street. Dolf followed not far behind, the vapor of his breath puffing out as he tried to catch her arm.

  “Olivia! Livie! Slow down!”

  “Which is it?” she said, stopping to face him in front of the corner store. “Is it a girlfriend, or a wife? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I was stupid? Why did you lead me on this way?” A sob escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her hands, trying desperately to control her emotions in front of half a dozen curious passers-by.

  “Olivia,” he said, catching his breath. “Olivia, no…You don’t understand. I don’t have a girlfriend, or a wife, or any lover, other than you.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Dolf! I deserve the truth; just tell me the truth!”

  “I’m trying!”

  “What then? What are all those shoes doing there? Those women’s shoes. And don’t tell me they’re all for you mother!”

  “Olivia, try to understand…”

  She pounded on his chest with her fists as the rage built within her. “I will not understand! How can I understand being betrayed again, being lied to again! You tell me how to understand that!”

  “Livie,” he urged, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Those are my shoes, Olivia. Just mine.”

  “Yours?” she asked, her mind whirling with confusion. “Your shoes? What are you talking about?”

  “I mean, they’re mine. Not a lover’s. Not a wife’s. Not a girlfriend’s. Not the shoes of women I murdered and buried in my back yard. Just mine. I bought them for myself.”

  “You?” she asked, incredulous. “But why?”

  “Olivia,” he said, lowering his voice. “I don’t know how to say it. I…” he faltered.

  “What? You what?”

  “I wear them, sometimes.”

  “You what?”

  “I wear them. I do.”

  “Are you…are you…” she was breathless with dismay. “Gay? I mean, it’s fine if you are, but then why did you sleep with me? Why did you bring me home?” The tears came then in earnest as she tried to wrap her head around what she was hearing.

  “No! No, Livie; I am not gay. I swear to God. I’m not gay. I just have a—a thing. A fetish, I guess you would call it.” He seemed on the verge of tears too, and it quelled the rising fear in her gut.

  “A fetish?”

  “Yeah. A fetish. I don’t know what else to call it.”

  “You get turned on by it?”

  “No. Well, kind of. But more like…it makes me feel good. Just good. Not turned on, necessarily. It’s hard to explain. Please, Olivia; please just try to understand.”

  “I am. I’m trying.”

  “Thank you,” he said, relief playing over his features. She stood for a moment, looking in to his pleading face, and tried to reconcile what he was saying with what she knew about him.

  “How long? How long have you done this?”

  “I think I’ve always been fascinated with shoes; I used to try my mom’s on when I was young, until she made me stop. But after Gina left me, it just…it just seemed to overwhelm me.”

  “But why the secret, Dolf? Why didn’t you just tell me before?”

  “Are you kidding? I was terrified you’d judge me, you’d laugh at me, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I didn’t tell you because it was just too weird. And because…because I love you, Livie, and I didn’t want to lose you!”

  “You…you love me?” she said, the words taking root in her heart and mind and blooming instantly into a full-blown orchard of wonder and joy.

  “Yes, I swear I do. I love you. I am in love with you, Livie. Please don’t leave me. Please, please forgive me. Please understand. I need you; my very life depends upon you.” He stepped forward and took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly.

  “I don’t know what to say. Just give me a minute,” she pulled her hands from his and turned, pacing the sidewalk as she thought furiously.

  His. The shoes are his. I knew he had to have something weird about him; he was too good to be true. Still, what’s so bad about a shoe fetish? They’re just shoes, after all. Not drugs. Not kiddie porn. This is nothing in the grand scheme of what a good, good man he is. Get a grip, Olivia. He loves you. Look at him, standing there.

  Dolf stood, looking very much like a small boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, in spite of his height. His face was pleading, expectant, fearful of her response.

  “Okay,” she said finally.

  “Olivia,” he came close. “Are you sure? Are you sure you don’t hate me?”

  “Hate you?” she smiled in spite of herself. “How could I hate you? You’re perfect. Perfectly weird, but perfect.”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her until she could think of nothing but his hands on her body, his voice whispering her name, the beauty of his care for her.

  “I love you too, Dolf. I do. I can’t stop. I love you, and I don’t care if you have a women’s shoe fetish or a foot fetish or whatever, as long as you keep loving me.”

  “I will, I will, I promise.”

  They stood there on the street corner, lit by the incandescent bulbs of the Quik-Trip, and kissed, not caring who saw.

  “Hey guys, get a room,” a teen said, head down and walking briskly past.

  They separated then, and laughed. Arm in arm, they headed back the way they had come.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Christmas Day dawned bright and cold, and Bradley woke Olivia at 4a.m.

  “Is it time to get up yet?” he asked breathlessly in a stage whisper, two inches from her face.

  “No,” she said emphatically. She made him get in bed with her and he passed the time alternating between hysterical giggling and asking her if it was time yet. By 6a.m. he simply could not be contained any longer, and they woke Beatrice and went into the living room. Bradley dove onto the presents beneath the tree, trying to guess to whom each one belonged.

  “Stockings first,” Olivia said, handing him his knitted sock filled with chocolate and small gifts.

  “Oh yay! My favorite!” he said, dumping the contents onto the floor.

  Beatrice was excited as well, although she was far more restrained than her brother. She carefully drew each item from her stocking, relishing each thing before reaching in for the next.

  “New gloves; thanks, Mom,” she said, trying them on for size. “And I love this charm bracelet!”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  “A parachute man! And a chocolate orange! And playing cards! And a DS game!” Bradley shouted. “Hooray!”

  When the stockings were done, Beatrice passed out the presents. Soon their contents were disgorged and the children’s joy was full. Bradley had his beloved roller skates, and Beatrice was busy putting apps on her new iPad. Olivia went into the kitchen to get the cinnamon rolls out of the oven.

  Dolf pulled up in his jeep and bounded out. She opened the door to him and he pulled her into a hug, dangling a sprig of mistletoe above their heads. He planted an enormous kiss on her lips and laughed.

  “Tradition, you know. I think I’ll carry this with me all day, just so I have an excuse…”

  “Hi Dolf!” Bradley said, staggering up in his new skates. “Look what I can do!”

  “Hey buddy; you’re an expert! Good job!”

  Bradley crashed to the floor and Dolf helped him up.

  “I smell something delicious,” he said.

  “Mom’s cinnamon rolls,” Beatrice said. “She makes them every Christmas mornin
g.”

  They went into the kitchen and Olivia passed out plates. Dolf ate the roll with gusto, rolling his eyes back in his head and moaning.

  “Jacob is a real fool, that much I know for certain now,” he said with a grin.

  “Oh hush now; anybody can make a good cinnamon roll, it just takes practice,” Olivia said, flushing with pleasure in spite of herself.

  “What did you get for Christmas, Livie?” he asked when he was done eating. “Show me your loot!”

  “Okay, well, come and see.”

  They went into the living room and Olivia showed him the clay fingerprint necklace Bradley had made for her, and the framed picture that Beatrice had drawn of the three of them.

  “Those are great!” he exclaimed.

  The doorbell rang and she went to open it, pulling her robe tighter around herself. One look through the peephole and she frowned, hard. Jacob was on her doorstep. Opening the door, she was startled when he stepped forward and clasped her hands in his own.

  “Jacob; what are you doing here?”

  Disheveled and red-eyed, he stared at her, tears welling and spilling over his lashes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Olivia…Livie…I miss you, honey. I just want you back. Please take me back. Please…I know I screwed up—screwed up bad—but I want to come home. Please let me come home.”

  Sobbing, he got down on his knees. Dolf and the kids came up behind her. She snatched her hands away from him.

  “Jacob, have you lost your mind? What about Ali?”

  “Ali doesn’t love me, Livie, not like you did,” he said, voice cracking, not taking his eyes off her. “She said she needs some space, you know? She’s cheating on me, I just know it, with one of her photographers.”

  “I see.”

  “Daddy?” Bradley said, the one word hanging in the air amidst them.

  “Dad, get up,” Beatrice said, sounding slightly irritated. He rose to his feet, wiping his eyes.

  “Beatrice, Brad, tell your mom. Tell her to let me come back. Don’t you want me to come back, kids? We can be a family again. You guys want that, right? Tell her to let me—”

  “Mommy?” Bradley looked up into her face and she could scarcely handle the question written there, the hope that she knew was springing anew in his small heart, the way she was going to have to crush him again, just when he was beginning to heal.

  “Bradley, honey…” she began. Before she could continue, however, she saw his features cloud over. He cocked his head to one side and stepped closer to his father.

  “Daddy, you need to go,” he said with a firmness Olivia had never heard from him before. “Mommy doesn’t love you anymore. And you don’t love her either.”

  “I do, though, that’s just it. I do love you, Livie, I never stopped. You’ve gotta believe that—”

  “Dad, stop,” Beatrice said then. “It’s embarrassing. Mom doesn’t want you back, did you ever think about that? Dolf, give her your present. Give her your present now.”

  “What?” Olivia said, confused. “What present?”

  “I can’t, not like this,” he said, frowning hard. “Olivia, maybe I should go.”

  “No, Dolf, please don’t—”

  “Yes Dolf, please do,” Jacob interrupted, turning slightly red. “This doesn’t concern you at all. This is between me and Olivia and our family.”

  “Our family?” Olivia burst out, her frustration boiling over. “Our family, Jacob? Really? As though I’ll just forget the last eighteen months and take you back, just like that? Give me a flipping break! Give me one good reason why I should!”

  “I already told you, Livie. I love you. I never stopped. I was just…confused! I was confused, Livie. You have to forgive me.”

  “I do not,” she said, heat rising to her face as well. “Now get out. Just go.”

  Crestfallen, he turned and got back in his car slowly. She shut the door and turned, feeling completely discombobulated.

  “Well,” she said. “That was…weird.”

  Bradley started to cry. She sank to her knees and pulled him into her embrace, murmuring words of comfort as she did so. Dolf stood with his hand on Beatrice’s shoulder, and she patted Bradley as well.

  “It’s okay Bubba,” she said. “Dad’s just lost his mind, that’s all. Mom, I knew something was wrong when we were with him. He never even talked about Ali the way he used to go on and on about her. And her stuff wasn’t in his closet or in the bathroom anymore. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think he was going to come here and do that. I would have warned you if I had known he would.” She shook her head slowly. “He’s bonkers.”

  “I’m sorry, Livie,” Dolf said. “I don’t know what to say, but are you sure you want me to stay? I can get out of your hair if you want.”

  “I most certainly do not want that,” she said. “I want you to stay, Dolf.”

  “Okay,” he said, but he still looked doubtful.

  “Dolf, you said you would. You said you were gonna do it today,” Bradley said, sniffing into Olivia’s shirt.

  “You were gonna do what?” Olivia asked, perplexed to the core. “Dolf, what’s he talking about?”

  Dolf stood, indecisively, his handsome face slightly red.

  “Yeah Dolf, do it now,” Beatrice said. “It’s weird but it feels right.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, and he knelt next to Bradley and Olivia. “You win. It’s not as romantic as I wanted it to be, Livie, but you’re going to have to excuse me for that. None of this is going as planned. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe the point is that life is messy and weird, but I want you in it with me. Forever.”

  With that, he pulled a small black box from his pocket and opened it. The diamond flashed delicately from its depths and Olivia gasped.

  “Will you marry me, Livie? Will you be mine, eternally?”

  Beatrice beamed and Bradley lifted his tear-streaked face to watch her anxiously.

  “Dolf, oh my god, Dolf.” She stared at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?” he smiled. “Of course I’m serious! I want to marry you, Livie. Please. Please say yes.”

  “Yeah Mom, say yes!” Beatrice exclaimed, grinning.

  “Dolf loves you, Mommy,” Bradley said. “And I told him it was okay with me if you got married.”

  “You did, honey? You really did? You asked him, Dolf? First?” The idea warmed her heart and made it ache. Bradley and Beatrice nodded.

  “Of course I asked them first,” Dolf said. “I had to get approval from the highest court, you know?”

  She looked from one face to another, and a steadily growing joy began to spread through her body. She threw her arms around Dolf.

  “Yes, Dolf, yes,” she said. “I don’t even have to think about it. Yes. I will marry you, a thousand times yes.”

  Her children jumped up and down and Dolf beamed as he threaded the ring onto her finger. She held it at arm’s length and studied it as it sparkled in the light.

  “Beautiful,” she said.

  “Yes, you are,” Dolf said, kissing her.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  He gripped her in a tight embrace, his need apparent, and lavished her neck with kisses. She wrapped her arms around his broad chest and laughed as his 5 o’clock shadow tickled her.

  “Oh Dolf,” she whispered.

  He sat up straight then, startled, his good-natured face aghast.

  “Did you just call me Dolf?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’m afraid I did,” she said, and just like that, she knew it was over. He held her at arm’s length and asked again.

  “Dolf?”

  “Uh-huh,” she nodded.

  The generous, laughing mouth was grim, his deep, lash-lined eyes troubled.

  “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing, my darling. Nothing. But you’re just a dream and I need something real.”

  “A dream?”

  “Yes, a dream. I’m sorry.” />
  “Me too,” he looked as though he might cry. “It was fun while it lasted.”

  “Yes, it was,” she agreed as he faded to a shadow.

  “Good-bye Robert.”

  “Good-bye Olivia”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  She awoke with a start. Dolf, next to her, pulled her close and stroked her hair.

  “Bad dream?” he asked, voice gruff with sleep.

  “No,” she said. “Not bad.”

  “You’re my dream,” he said softly. “My dream come true.” He shifted his position to spoon with her, his hand resting softly on her breast.

  “This is way better than any dream,” she said, smiling in the darkness and wondering if her heart could feel any fuller. “And believe me, I should know.”

  THE END

 

 

 


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