by Lynn Stevens
I thought about what he’d said as I warmed the milk and melted real chocolate into the pot. Dad didn’t say “I told you so” or “maybe this isn’t for you.” He was comforting and supportive. I poured two mugs and added the whipped cream. It wasn’t real hot cocoa without whipped cream. Unfortunately, Dad didn’t have any cherries so I sprinkled cinnamon on top.
“Dad, can I ask you a question?” I set his mug in front of him on the counter. He sipped his too-hot cocoa and grinned. Whipped cream stuck to his mustache. “Why did you want me to be a teacher? Or a nurse?”
He set the mug down, wiping whipped cream out of the corners of his mouth. “Remember the first time you made this?” I nodded. “Bradley was only a few months old and it was colder than a snake’s tit outside. You’d taken over care of your baby brother the minute you got home from school. Your great-aunt Jan was always ready to bolt, too. Bradley wasn’t easy to watch.”
“He’s still not,” I said. Bradley never did like Great-Aunt Jan. She was just mean. Her idea of babysitting was to put my baby brother into his bouncy seat and watch her “stories” When he outgrew the bouncy seat, she moved on to other chairs. Bradley wasn’t even allowed to talk to her during one show.
Dad chuckled. “You got him to fall asleep pretty fast, though. Anyway, we’d all finished dinner. That you made, I might add. A nine-year-old girl cooking for a family of seven, you were a sight. Those were some of the best frozen pizzas of my life.”
“I learned to cook more,” I pointed out. By the time I was ten, I made a mean meatloaf among other things. Someone had to do it. Dad was too busy with working ten-hour days. Tony was too busy with the sport of the season. Nick was watching my other brothers, which might as well have been a full-time job. Someone had to make dinner. I’d take Bradley into the kitchen and wing it. He’d babble away while I cooked. Every now and then, he said something coherent. I just let him talk, and he hasn’t stopped since. Once I mastered spaghetti, I branched out with cookbooks from the library.
“You took over, Liv. You wanted to make sure we were all cared for.” He lifted his mug and took a sip. “But making hot cocoa with your mom was special. And you hadn’t had it in so long. You got it in your head to make enough for all of us.”
“And it was horrible,” I reminded him. It tasted like melted tires with too much cinnamon.
“Yes, that it did. But you didn’t give up. Every night you made hot cocoa until the boys were afraid to even taste it.”
I laughed. My brothers thought I was poisoning them. Bradley wouldn’t stay in the kitchen when I grabbed the hot cocoa pot. That was all it was used for, too. I wanted to take it with me when I moved into the apartment, but Dad didn’t want me to. He didn’t say that, but I could see it in his eyes.
“One night about a week later, you brought me a mug. I took a sip and it was like your mother had made it.” He full belly-laughed then. “Your brothers ran into the kitchen and finished off the pot before you had a chance to really enjoy it.”
“I do remember they had to clean my room for a week.” And they put everything in the wrong spot on purpose. It took me two weeks to find a library book that was past due. One of them hid it in my closet in a shoebox that had “private—keep out” written on the outside in block letters. Obviously, they missed the message.
“My point, munchkin, is that you didn’t give up because you knew you could do it if you kept trying.” He sighed and ran his hands down his face. “It wasn’t that I didn’t think you could be an engineer. I knew you could, and I knew you’d be great. When you came to me with the idea, I shot it down for one reason and one reason only: to toughen you up. I knew then it pissed you off. And I knew then that you thought I didn’t believe in you. But I didn’t know how else to prepare you for such an industry.”
“You knew I’d get treated differently?”
“Yeah. I’d hoped that you wouldn’t, that things would change, but I knew. Your aunt Joanie had to fight to be a doctor. And Aunt Beverly had to fight to become a psychologist.” He leaned in and took my hands. “They almost gave up. Even though I knew you wouldn’t, I didn’t want to see that look come across your face. I didn’t want you to even think about giving up. Tonight, I saw that look. It killed me to see you want to quit.”
I bit back another round of sobs.
“You were only nine and you took care of this family. Of me.” Dad swiped at his face, and it was only then I realized he was crying. “I just wanted to make sure you saw your dreams come true.”
“They will, Daddy,” I whispered.
He smiled and patted my hand. “Good. Just open your field of vision more. JenCar is not the only company in the world.”
“Can we come out now?” Bradley asked. I glanced over at his head peeking around the wall. Jacob’s head popped out over his.
“Yeah,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. “You guys want some hot cocoa?”
“Cool,” Bradley said as he scrambled into the kitchen.
Jacob followed at a slow saunter. The boys started talking sports and cars while I made the cocoa. A wet nose nudged my leg. As I stirred, the puppy sat at my feet patiently and stuck by my heels when I filled the mugs and handed them to my younger brothers.
I bent to pick him up but the puppy scrambled away from me.
“Harley, sit,” Jacob commanded. The dog glanced up at my brother then at my dad. “Harley, sit.”
I sat on the floor, crossing my legs.
“Okay, Liv, sit,” Bradley said before busting out laughing.
I gave him the evil eye. “Shut it, Brad.” Turning my attention toward the puppy, I held out my hand. “It’s okay, Harley. I won’t hurt you.”
“Harley, sit,” Jacob ordered again.
“Shut it, Jake.” I wiggled my fingers.
Jacob threw his hands in the air, but he stopped ordering the dog around. Harley stared at me with wide eyes, looking both terrified and hopeful at the same time. He hid beside my father’s feet. I kept cooing until he took a cautious step toward me, then another. After inspecting my hand, Harley wagged his raggedy tail and licked my fingers. I scooped him up, pulling him against my chest. Harley’s gentle licks turned into a complete bath on my face.
“Jacob found him. Somebody had dumped him on the side of the road in a rucksack,” Dad said, his brows curving in disgust.
“Oh come on, Dad. Nobody’d leave Jacob in a rucksack. He wouldn’t fit,” I kept my face angled for more puppy kisses.
“Funny, sis,” Jacob said. He finished his hot cocoa and slammed his mug on the table.
“Your brothers hid the mutt in the basement for a week. Now I can’t get rid of him.” Dad reached down and scratched under Harley’s chin. “He likes going to the shop, too.”
“If I would’ve known sneaking a puppy into the house would’ve worked, I’d have done it years ago,” I said as I stood.
“Nah, you wouldn’t have.” Dad ran his hand down the dog’s back, earning a loving gaze from Harley. “You’re not the rule-breaker around here.” He glared at Jake who shrugged his shoulders. “The guilt would’ve killed you.”
Harley leaped from my arms and ran into the living room. Ten seconds later, the puppy was back with a knotted tube sock. Harley dropped it at Dad’s feet and stared hopefully at my father. They played tug of war for about ten minutes, enough to wear the puppy out. It was cute, endearing, and I was still a little bitter I’d never tried to sneak one into the house. Whether Jacob found him along the road or not, and I suspected that was a tall tale, he’d succeeded where I’d failed. But Dad was right. I would’ve felt guilty for going against him.
My phone vibrated in my pocket again. I needed to let Paige know what was going on. She was probably freaking out since I hadn’t gotten back to her.
“Sis, you want me to get your bags?” Bradley asked.
“I didn’t bring any,” I said. It hit me over the head like a piano. I didn’t bring anything. Not my laptop, not my books, not my clothes. O
h shit. It wasn’t like I’d planned on staying long, but suddenly I felt exposed. I hurried toward my room and booted the ancient desktop. At least I could email my profs that I’d be out of class the rest of the week for personal reasons. I’d already cleared Friday with them. The computer took a lifetime to boot. I checked my messages while I waited. Several were from Paige, the last the most panicked. I immediately texted her back so she’d at least know I was okay.
Four messages were from Devon.
Saw Paige. She said you’re in silent mode. You okay?
Liv?
Did I do something?
Now I’m getting worried about you. Or you blocked my number. If you did, you won’t see this so…
The computer finally finished turning on. I set my phone down, debating on what to say to Devon. He said he was worried about me. It was sweet. I shot emails to my profs with as little detail as possible. It was none of their business why I ran away.
I picked my phone back up to a new message from Paige.
So you’re OK?
Me: Fine. Just confused.
I hit send realizing how true those words were.
Paige: Devon?
Me: No. Long story. I’ll tell you later.
Paige: See you tomorrow?
Me: Doubtful. I’m in Kerns. I’ll text you when I get back.
She sent a thumbs-up emoji. Taking a few extra days at home to get my head on straight didn’t sound like a terrible idea. I opened Devon’s messages.
You’re not blocked. Sorry, something happened and it has nothing to do with you or us. I need to figure a few things out.
He didn’t respond right away. I went back to my email, cleaning up the spam until the weight of the day took its toll. It was barely ten o’clock when I crawled into bed, snuggling the stuffed tortoise Dad bought me for my tenth birthday when we visited the Des Moines zoo. I’d felt sorry for them when we stopped by their enclosure. People didn’t really watch them. They’d glance then move on to something more exciting like the tigers or rhinos. Before we left, Dad let me go back to the tortoises. Nick stayed with me while I sat on a bench and stared at them moving slowly around the dirt. Dad came back with Torty. He said it was so I’d never forget to slow down every now and then like the tortoises. It was a nice sentiment, but I knew he really bought it to remind me of the day.
Maybe I needed to slow down.
For the first time since I’d finished it, I fell asleep without my quilt. It was a cold night.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Slowing down was not my best idea. I didn’t do it well. By the end of Thursday afternoon, I’d cleaned the entire house, including my brothers’ bedrooms, restocked the fridge, and prepared casseroles for the week. Jake’s room took most of Wednesday morning. Bradley’s was even worse, filling up five hours on Thursday. Neither one of them knew what to say when they saw that they did in fact have floors. And Dad was impressed by the number of plates and bowls I’d discovered. Maybe I should’ve been an archeologist.
I’d also managed eight loads of laundry, which included changing the sheets on everyone’s beds and towels that were borderline stiff. When I was putting away clothes in Dad’s room, I stopped for a moment and sat in Mom’s chair. Sometimes I didn’t remember her very well. When I’d look at an old photo, she was different than she was in my imagination. Would I have chosen a different path if she hadn’t died? Would my life be different having had her guidance? Would she be proud of me? That was the one that haunted me the most. I didn’t know. I could only hope that she would be.
Devon called after I finished folding the towels. Our conversations over the last couple of days had been over texts. None of it had any real context. I’d been vague in everything because I hadn’t wanted to talk about any of it. He probably already knew what had happened at JenCar. Either way, it was time I actually talked to him.
“Hey,” I answered, plopping on the brown plaid couch. A spring stuck into my back. Dad really needed to replace this thing.
“So are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I need to guess?” Concern laced through his words, softening his voice. “Will you at least tell me where you are?”
“I’m home. In Kerns.” I pulled my knees to my chest and covered up with an afghan Great-Aunt Jan had crocheted. It wasn’t my quilt but it would do for now. “Upton fired me.”
He sighed heavily into the phone. “I heard. I know how much it meant to you. I’m sorry.”
I shifted on the couch, careful to avoid the spring. “It felt like the end of the world. I just needed…I needed to be anywhere other than Madison. Can you understand that?”
“I get it. I wish you would’ve talked to me, but I understand why you took off.” He inhaled sharply. “I can’t believe they’d fire you after everything it took…”
“After what? You can’t believe what?” There was something in his tone that put me on red alert.
“It doesn’t matter now. Just…when will you be back?”
“What doesn’t matter, Devon?” My hands shook as I held the phone. It was like my world was caving for a second time and I couldn’t stop it. I hadn’t had a panic attack since I was sixteen, but I remembered how it felt. I just didn’t know what triggered it.
“Don’t get mad at me.” He paused, but I didn’t say a word. “And if you do, promise to forgive me. I did it for you.”
“Did what?” My body wanted to curl into itself. I moved the phone upside down so he couldn’t hear how fast my breath escaped.
“I…I knew how much you wanted that internship. So I made a deal with my father over Christmas.” His voice softened. “If I would apply, you’d get an interview.”
“What?”
“JenCar wasn’t going to consider interns this spring, but Dad talked to Upton. He got her to bring me on because I was his son. I only applied if she would grant you an interview.”
I ended the call. He called right back, but I sent him to voicemail. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. Not about this, not about anything.
I hadn’t done it on my own. I hadn’t done any of it on my own. It was a knife to the heart. My breathing hitched as my chest ached. Panic overtook me. I tried to slow my breaths, to count them. Anything to counter the attack. How could he have kept this from me? He knew how much I wanted that internship, how much I wanted to work at JenCar after graduation. My fingers dug into the couch. I needed to focus on something else. Anything else.
There was a birthday party to get ready for this weekend. I’d throw myself into that. I’d ignore everything Devon said. He called again, and again I sent him to voicemail as I started making lists of what we needed, what we had, and what I needed to do. Decorating the kitchen with a metallic Happy Birthday sign and silly balloons was the top of my list. Bradley would love those.
A text came next, but I didn’t bother to read it until I was done with my project. Please don’t do this.
I needed time to process. Time to figure out a few things. He had lied to me. He’d gotten me the interview. I hadn’t gotten it on my own. And he’d done it before the party. Before we’d started seeing each other. Why? Why would he do that? There wasn’t anything to gain on his end. Why would he do that for someone who treated him like a complete ass?
Because he liked me. Even then. He’d so much as told me that.
I looked at my missed call log and pressed the last call.
“I’m sorry,” he answered. “I didn’t want to tell you, but… Olivia, you got the job on your own merits. I only helped get the interview.”
“That’s not the point,” I said, trying and failing to keep the quiver out of my voice. “I had to fight to get into this program. I had to fight to prove myself in every single class.”
“You’re exaggerating—”
“Don’t do that.” I paused to stop from yelling. “Don’t tell me I’m exaggerating when I’m the one who went through it. Remember sophomore year with Dr. Amos? He told me to get my degree in nursing or, and
I quote, ‘something nurturing that suits you better.’ Engineering 101 and I was told to quit.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Every day it’s a struggle. I’ve watched other women in the program drop out, and they were more than capable. But I wasn’t about to quit.” I sighed. He wasn’t getting it. “How many people have told you not to do something? Not to play baseball or not to go into engineering?”
“Nobody,” he said softly.
“I hear it all the time. I even heard it from you.”
“Whoa, when did I say that?”
“Freshman year. After we…met. We had calc together. You said girls normally suck at math.” I remembered it like it was yesterday. It was seared into my mind, because it had hurt more than I expected.
“Olivia, I’m sorry. I don’t remember saying that.” He paused. “But that didn’t have anything to do with engineering. It was just a math class.”
“Sophomore year, fall semester, we were paired together for a project. You asked for a male partner.”
“Whoa, okay, now that you’re taking out of context. I didn’t want to be your partner, but not because of your sex. Well, not in the way you think.”
“What in the hell does that mean?”
Devon barked out a nervous laugh. “I liked you too much. And knowing how much you hated me, it wasn’t a good idea to work on a project that was a third of our grade together. Not when I wouldn’t have been able to focus.”
“Oh.”
“I wish we would’ve cleared the air about this a long time ago. It would’ve saved a lot of headaches.”
