by JN Welsh
"What's 'dearmen?" Luna wrinkled her face.
"Endearments," Olive enunciated, "are sweet names we call the people we love. Like ladybug."
"And cookie, like Daddy calls you, Mommy?" Luna asked.
Her daughter's unexpected analogy slapped her heart around. Olive's head attempted to agree between shoulders that had cranked up to her ears. "That's right. You're so smart." She smoothed Luna's curls. Even before they'd had children she was Nigel's “cookie” and he was her “love and sweet cream.” Their innocent endearments turned erotic during friskier times. When was the last time Nigel called her, cookie?
"Hi, Uncle Riley." Amani kissed his cheek.
"Hi beautiful. You look more and more like your Mom every time I visit." Riley noted.
Olive was shocked when Amani didn't cringe at the remark.
"You guys excited for your grandparents visit?" Riley asked.
Amani shrugged. "I kind of wish we were going with you."
Olive's eldest had a little more awareness about what was happening than her younger siblings. Sometimes Amani was angry, other times sad and dismissive. Some of Amani's emotional dynamics Olive blamed on growing pains, but her motherly instincts pointed toward the changes with Nigel.
"What? You guys are going to have a blast with the grandparents spoiling you and your parents away. I'd be trying to figure out what kind of trouble I could get into." Riley playfully pushed Taye and Amani.
"Don't give them any ideas, Riley," Olive warned. "Are you hungry?"
"I am, actually, and whatever you got cookin' smells seriously incredible. The vegan option on the plane was okay but somehow when you land, you're dying for something home-cooked.
“I made that sweet potato black bean chili you love.” Olive smiled. "Flor and Nigel will be here soon. Dinner will be ready in a little bit. Why don't you get settled and then we can have a nice family meal." Sarcasm oozed from the statement.
"Flor’s staying here, tonight?" The energy around Riley vivified.
Olive squinted at her friend. "Why wouldn't she stay here?"
"I was just confirming," Riley said. "She's Nigel's bestie and—"
"And…" She shook her head. "We're all friends. Unless there is something you want to tell me?"
"You're funny." Riley rubbed his chocolate baldhead.
"I thought you two would meet up since you’ve been back and forth from Chi-town to LA for the center. How many years has it been since you've seen Flor, anyway?"
"A couple," Riley responded nonchalantly. "It'll be nice to chill with her. She used to be a fun chick."
Olive was sure that interest in Flor still percolated in Riley. He and Flor had been voted most likely to date back when they'd first met, but getting together eluded the two friends. Olive didn't know why. After the summer when she and Nigel got married, Olive stopped trying to force the pendulum.
The image of Nigel in his blue suit, on their wedding day, popped into her mind and threatened to ax away at her armored façade. Nigel would be staying in the house tonight after being in the corporate apartments for just more than half the year. The thought added yet another layer of anxiety she wished would dissipate.
"OJ?" Riley touched her arm. "You good?"
Her head bobbled. "Yeah."
Riley didn't appear convinced.
"Go on. I'll meet you back down here for dinner."
"All right." Riley picked up his bags and made his way up the stairs.
"I'm glad you're here, Riley. Even under the circumstances," she called after him.
"Me, too." He disappeared up the stairs.
Chapter Four
Nigel sat at an outdoor table of a small French bistro. Florencia was meeting him for a drink before they were to head to the house. Flor, though anxious to see Olive and the children, wanted to "have a chat" with Nigel prior; to no doubt unload every comment, question and suggestion she'd been stockpiling since he’d last spoken to her.
He spotted her walking from the bistro's parking lot.
"Hey," she called when she saw him.
"Hi, Flor." Nigel stood to greet her. She pressed her cheek against his, making a kissing noise with her peach glossed lips. "You look nice and smell like summer."
Perhaps flattery would soften the beat down she was going to give him. He felt the cool metal of her gold earrings on his chin as she secured the white visor on her head. Her black hair had a burgundy tint to it and swung at her shoulders. Her floral fragrance enveloped them both.
"You know, I always have to look good." She pushed him backward and sat down in the chair opposite his. "Now, order me a drink and tell me why the fuck I'm here."
Nigel thought of where to start. "I—"
"The real reason." Flor fisted her one hand and slapped it into the palm of the other a few times. "Not that bullshit you're designing in your head right now or that other shit you've probably been spitting to Olive and the kids."
Nigel twisted his mouth in an effort not to smile. Flor was a creative director for one of the biggest sports media companies in LA and her go-getter attitude rivaled most. Through all her success, he still saw glimpses of that girl he sat next to in freshman seminar at Berkley. They’d become fast friends when they’d both gone for the last book for their class at the bookstore. After a lengthy, heated debate, they’d compromised to share the textbook and had been friends ever since.
He cleared his throat. "I missed you."
Flor smirked but softened a tiny bit. "I missed you, too and I can't wait to see los nenes and pinch their cheeks, but I'm serious, Nigel. You need to tell me what's really going on."
He laced his fingers behind his neck and stretched audibly. "Let's get you that drink first. Maybe you'll want to kill me less with some good cheer in your system."
Flor peered at him through perfectly black lined lids and long mascaraed lashes. She was pretty with oval shaped eyes, high cheekbones and soft heart-shaped lips. She didn't need makeup, but she wore a full face.
He called to the server and Flor ordered a Long Island Iced Tea.
"Really going for it, huh?" he asked.
"Yah-huh. Sounds like I'm going to need as much good cheer as possible." She air quoted good cheer with her long manicured nails. Something she did often.
"So how's work?"
"Busy. You are so lucky things are slow." She air quoted slow and Nigel failed to suppress his laughter at her repetitive gesture. Even if she were too busy to come, she would have for him.
The server placed a highball glass in front of her and she wasted no time taking a long sip from the red straw.
"I'll have to check in, and work here and there but I got you and Olive winged on this trip. For real," she said with abrupt seriousness as she stirred her drink.
"I know." He gave her a sheepish half smile.
Flor held onto either side of the black round table, straightened, and let out a puff of air. "Okay. Give it to me. I can take it."
Fifteen minutes later, after Nigel told her the "real deal," Flor had only one thing to say.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" She had ordered another drink.
“Do you want to eat something?” he asked.
“And spoil my stomach for Olive’s good food? Nah.” She alternated between sipping her drink and gulping from a glass of water every so often. "What do you think is going to happen when this trip is over and Olive finds out? Or during?"
Nigel hadn't thought that far ahead. "She's not going to find out unless you tell her. You're not going to tell her, right?"
"No, I'm not going to tell her, but you’re treading on the thinnest of all ice. It's romantic, in a twisted kind of way, but divorce is tough. Olive’s ready to drop you to the curb with little more than a sandwich and a soda. This can end very badly." Flor rubbed her temples.
Flor spoke from experience. Nigel and Olive had supported her during her divorce. Even though, there was no love loss between Flor and her ex-husband, the process had been emotionally gru
eling for both parties.
"I can't lose her, Flor. Not when I know there’s a chance for us to get back what we’ve lost." He had vaguely remembered that before he and Olive were married, they created a non-monetary agreement. Fresh out of law school, Jim Aldridge had seen one too many divorce cases as an intern and broached the subject of a prenuptial agreement with them.
“Hell no,” Nigel had said.
“Let’s create a love list, No! A divorce list,” Olive had said excitedly.
“I think I’m going to throw up in my brief case now, “Jim had shaken his head at their lovesickness.
They wouldn't have the normal legal jargon, sorting property and money. Instead, the young inventors designed an adventure to rekindle their love should it ever fade.
Back then, he and Olive had thought divorce an impossibility and spent one night over a few bottles of Pinot Noir, a case of Modelo and a joint, creating a Divorce List.
"If we drive 17 Mile Drive we'll definitely fall back in love," Olive had said. She had written on a notepad that she placed on his chest.
"Oh wait. We have to go to Carmel," He had suggested, as his fingertips had glided over her shoulder and arm.
Olive had flung her head back, "Yes!" She had snapped her fingers like she was at a spoken word reading or jazz club. Her locks had only been at her shoulders back then. Though she hadn't been Rastafarian, she had vowed that she'd never cut them until she was able to sit on them.
He'd teasingly warned her that he'd breakup with her if she ever did. He loved the veil her hair made around him when they made love, the way her hair grazed his shoulders and chest, and the way Olive used her arm to pull them back when her face descended to kiss him.
With every memory that came back to him the more he missed her.
"The Elephant Seal vista," she had squealed.
"Ferret’s Beach Shack on Playa del Rey beach and stay until the sun sets," Olive had stroked his cheek.
Nigel had moved in close and spoke against her lips. His fingers had fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger. "Candlelight hike at Gracie's B&B."
"Honeymoon suite at Gracie's B&B," Olive added.
"We haven't stayed in that suite yet, cookie," he had corrected.
"I know, but we're getting married there because we liked it so much on our trip up the coast. I think it'll become a special place for us." Her palms smoothed over his biceps. "I know it will, my love."
Nigel recollected how much fun they'd had. How drunk and high they were and the marathon lovemaking that followed. Both he and Olive thanked God that their contraception was secured or they might have conceived Amani that night.
Olive was right. When he'd said his vows to her, he had bawled like a baby overwhelmed with gratitude and luck. He'd never love another woman and prayed every night to keep Olive and their kids safe, and their family healthy and intact. He'd never thought that he'd experience this severed connection from her, this loss.
The night Olive suggested that they separate and get some space, he'd known that drastic measures were in order and remembered the agreement.
He met Flor’s evaluation. "The only way I'd ever get Olive to see that we needed this trip was to go along with her suggestion to separate. Drastic? Yes. Necessary. Hell yes."
"How about therapy. When you guys were going, didn't that help?" Flor asked.
"Sure, it gave us some tools, but…I was away and working, and trying to get this promotion. When I’d return, we just kept getting more and more disconnected." He and his wife had gone to therapy but with him focusing on work to fill the void, and Olive focusing on the kids to fill hers, fixing their marriage had slid to the back burner. He refused to let it die, to let Olive slip out of his life like a heart taking its last beats. No. He was going to fight and the agreement was his weapon.
"Nigel?" Flor snapped him back to the present.
"I did what I had to do. If this works, she'll forgive me." If this works? He knew Olive like he knew the ocean and rode the highs and lows of her waves the same way. She might be pissed as fuck when she found out, even more than she was when he refused to dissolve the agreement, but if their divorce list reunited them, she'd forgive him. "I hope she forgives me."
The dinner table in the Goodwin home was full. Sitting with Olive and the kids like this felt foreign, further spotlighting the high stakes of the situation. Flor hugged Olive, while he chatted with Riley, and the children’s excitement at having everyone together was contagious. What Nigel was most relieved about was that all the adults focused on the kids.
“I’m so glad to be here with my little chicharrones,” Flor said about their kids and then targeted Amani. “We need a girl’s day pronto.”
Amani smiled. “I’d like that.”
Flor had sobered up quick once Riley had greeted her. Nigel was sure that Flor had no idea she bit her lip when she found out that Riley was in LA.
“Maybe we can get coffee or something,” Riley tossed at Flor, but continued to steal glances at her.
Nigel shook his head at the games they still played. He was curious as to how things would play out with their friends on this trip. The thought was something to look forward to but when he glanced over to find Olive, fiddling with her napkin and straightening items on the dinner table, his nerve to follow through with his plan waned. He inhaled courage and reminded himself that he was doing the right thing.
Sleeping arrangements for the evening were awkward until Flor announced. "I'm sleeping with Olive." Flor invited Amani for a mini sleepover, but Amani declined. Taye and Luna were already asleep. So far, the kids were holding up well with their departure mere hours away.
Nigel trailed Olive. The last time he was in this corridor, he'd returned from one of his longer trips. Their relationship had been so strained that he had felt like a stranger in his own home. They hadn't had sex in so long that he had worried one or both of them would eventually seek comfort in someone else. Pleasuring himself had become standard procedure, but he had wanted his wife in his bed and to spoil her the way he had in the past.
That night, almost a year ago to the day, the sex between them had been raw, primal, and basic. The details of that night were as vivid as if they’d just happened.
Fucking. Mechanical, desperate fucking performed with the shared goal—to prevent them from filling the emptiness elsewhere, even if only for a little while longer. They'd barely been able to make eye contact afterward.
The sound of gathered material as he had pulled up his pants and fastened his belt had been filled with shame. Olive had stood up from her hunched over position against the wall, exposed, and the wetness between her legs still glistened. Her dress had clung to her waist, and her panties had been destroyed and discarded somewhere in the room.
When he'd spoken, his words had been thick with regret. "Olive, I...this...I'm—"
"This wasn't just you. Don't cheapen it further by apologizing." She had yanked her dress back down.
A few days later, she'd suggested that they separate and get some space.
Now, as he walked down the corridor, he wasn't going to their bedroom, he was going to the guest room to sleep with Riley. He'd always had a high sex drive, so had Olive. How she was surviving without sex with him only meant one thing. She wasn't. The thought of her with anyone else shrouded his eyes with a veil of rage so red, he nearly blacked out. He willed himself to a less creative and calmer state.
On the walls were pictures of he and Olive when they dated and in their first apartment. More photographs of them in London when they had helped his parents move to their vacation home in Santa Barbara. The children's first days of school were displayed. The ones of their wedding and all its festivities hit him the most. Their happiness on that day was unmatched.
The images with her and the kids, that he couldn't recall, were ones taken without him while he worked. Every time he'd come home, and the more his kids grew, the more absent he was from the pictures. His children, Olive or their pare
nts would recount the stories. He was going to change that scenario. He’d put in the work to be the best father, and if Olive would let him, and even better husband than the one he used to be.
Chapter Five
Luna was crying, Amani crossed her arms tightly around Olive’s middle and Taye tossed a tennis ball between his hands. Flor and Riley had already said their goodbyes to the kids and Nigel's parents, and waited in the car.
Olive tried to comfort her youngest, but her heart was breaking. She rubbed Luna's shoulder in an effort not to lose it in front of her kids. She felt a hand between her shoulder blades and craned her neck. Nigel's sympathetic expression stole what little strength remained in her tank.
"I can't." Olive's voice broke. This was the first time she'd ever left Luna like this. Olive realized she'd done her daughter a great disservice, as Luna struggled to cope and was most likely also reacting to Olive's anxiety over the separation.
Nigel replaced Olive’s spot and Luna lost it.
"I want Mommy," Luna wailed. She stiffened in Nigel's arms and lost a sandal in the process. Nigel carried Luna into the house.
Amani buried her head in the crook of Olive's neck. "Have a good trip, Mom. You and Dad, okay?"
Olive squeezed her tight. "We will, honey."
Taye hugged her middle. "Bye, Mom." His sad eyes concerned her, but Amani put an arm around her brother.
Nigel returned with Luna who sniffled and trembled as she wrapped her arms around her father's neck. "Okay, ladybug. Give Mommy a big hug that will last until she sees you again." He transferred Luna to her arms.
Olive embraced her daughter. "You know Mommy loves you, right?"
"Yes." Luna hiccupped and played with Olive's locks. She pressed kisses on Luna's temple and cheek, and then handed the child over to her grandfather.
Olive hugged Nigel's parents. "Thanks again for staying with them. Call if you need us."
Nigel said goodbye to his parents. "Love you."
Olive climbed into the car. A few seconds later, Nigel slid inside the backseat next to her.
