“Okay,” Cynthia sighed and picked up the plate, placing it back on the counter instead. “What do you have planned for today?”
“Nothing,” she answered. Pulling her knee up, she placed her foot on the chair, hugging her leg. Her attention was fully on the tabletop in front of her.
“I’ll cancel lunch—”
“What? No, it’s your birthday dinner,” Olivia argued. “No, me and Grace will be just fine hanging out here.”
Cynthia studied her daughter. Those big brown eyes looked so sad right now, the only thing she got from her father. Everything else was all Cynthia: the shape of her face, the slant of her nose, and the pouting mouth that, when she smiled, would show perfectly white teeth, just like Cynthia’s own. She was tall and slender, just like Cynthia, and all of those chocolate brown waves of hair that were currently being held up by a white bandana, it was all her mother. Cynthia was proud of that. And she was classy too, just the way that Cynthia had taught her to be. But the eyes were just like her father.
“It’s fine. I’ll have another one next year.” Cynthia grinned. Pulling a chair out, she sat down next to Olivia. Reaching out a hand, she pushed a strand of hair away from Olivia’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “The best birthday present I could have is to have you and Gracie home.”
“Grace!” the youngster said loudly.
“Sorry, Sweetheart, Grace,” Cynthia acknowledged. “Are you all finished? Why don’t you go and get changed?”
“Swimming, Mummy?”
Olivia smiled at her daughter. “Sure, Grace.”
They sat in silence while Grace jumped down from the chair. She grabbed her glass, swigged down her juice, and then she was gone, running out of the kitchen and along the hallway.
“I am really glad that you are both here,” Cynthia reiterated.
“But I wouldn’t be here if—”
“If Ava hadn’t behaved so badly?”
Olivia visibly stiffened, her jaw tightening, but she nodded.
“Ava is the bad guy in all of this Olivia, don’t forget that for a minute.” Cynthia reached out and took her child’s hand in her own, holding it tight.
“I know,” Olivia whispered. “I just feel so…like I have no control of any of it.”
Cynthia considered for a moment if she should make the suggestion at all. Knowing how stubborn Olivia could be, she already knew what the answer would be. “We could go to the police, report it?”
Olivia’s head whipped up, fear written across her features.
“No, I – there would be no point. It would just be her word against mine, and then it would be in the papers and I don’t – I can’t have everybody...I don’t want...” Her bottom lip was quivering. “And who would believe me?”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it was just a thought, something to think about, that’s all.”
“Mama?” She looked up at Cynthia, her eyes shining with tears. “How do I fix this? Fix me?”
“Well, I am not sure, but I think maybe we can find someone who can help?”
“You mean a therapist? You wanna send me to a shrink?” She stood up. Her chair scraped on the tiles as she moved and began pacing the kitchen. “I’m not crazy, I don’t need—”
“Sweetheart, there are many reasons to speak with a therapist. They can help you find a way to come to terms with…” She watched her daughter pace the room.
“I don’t want to come to terms with it, Mama, I want to forget it. I want to not remember it when I am lying in the dark by myself, or making love with somebody I want to be intimate with.” Her arms were back to being wrapped around her.
Cynthia stood and held her by the shoulders, keeping her still and at arms-length as she held her gaze. “Livvy, you need to talk to someone.”
“I’m talking to you!” she exclaimed, her tears unrelenting as she found herself feeling more and more anxious. Her mother’s arms wrapped tightly around her and she clung to her. “I really liked her, Mama.”
“Who? Ava?”
“No, Hilary. I really liked her and now – now she is gone.”
“Call her. Explain things to her, talk to Hilary.” Cynthia held her daughter by the shoulders as she spoke. “Call her sweetheart, fix this and then work on the bigger issue.”
The sound of small feet running into the kitchen drew both of their attention. Grace was standing in the kitchen, her blue swimsuit on back to front, one armband on her forearm, one on her tiny bicep, swimming goggles on the top of her head. Olivia couldn’t help but smile. Her love life might be falling apart, but this little girl would always keep her feet on the ground.
~MB~
Hilary had dozed on and off all morning. With no interest in getting up, she burrowed deeper under the cover when her phone started to ring. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She was going to sit here and mope for as long as it took before she felt better, and if that took a week, then so be it. It was probably Debbie again anyway, and she really wasn’t in the mood for it.
When it rang again, she reached out and, unseeing, pressed the button that muted it. Flopping back against the cushion, she felt the tears run down her cheek. Tears for Olivia Copeland. At least if she understood it, then maybe she could get over it, move on without feeling so shitty, but she didn’t.
The phone rang again, this time vibrating on the coffee table.
She groaned. “Seriously, Debbie.”
The screen showed it was her sister who had called, and a number she didn’t recognise. She surmised it was probably a cold caller, so she deleted the number and pressed call on her sister’s number.
“Oh thank God, where the hell have you been? I am at the hospital, Dad’s had a...”
“What?” She sat upright, awake instantly. “What’s wrong with Dad? Which hospital?”
“If ya would shut up for a minute I will tell you. I have been calling all morning, Hil.”
“I’m sorry, I had a late night and I’ve been asleep on the couch.” She was moving around the apartment, grabbing her clothes and heading to the bathroom. “Dad?”
“Is fine, but he is in the hospital. He was working an extra shift and some idiot didn’t put the signs up to tell everyone there was a loose board and a frigging big hole under it. Anyway, he slipped on the board and landed in the hole. He hit his head and so they want to keep him in for the night just in case he has a concussion. Right now, he is waiting for an x-ray on his ankle.”
“Okay, but he is okay? He isn’t going to die or anything?”
She could feel Debbie rolling her eyes. “No Hilary, he isn’t going to die. Honestly, not everyone dies when they go to the hospital, Hun.” She could hear that her sister had moved outside of the building and had lit a cigarette. There were short puffs and then a long exhale.
“Well, Mom did,” Hilary threw back petulantly.
“Mom was ill, she had cancer.” Her sister sighed but spoke kindly; they didn’t like to talk about it, any of them. “He is going to be fine, Hils, just get your butt down here and see for yourself.”
All thoughts of Olivia, for now, were forgotten.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I don’t think it’s irrational to feel the way you do, Olivia,” Dr. Demetri was explaining, her voice on the gentle side of authoritative. “You suffered a traumatic event at the hands of somebody you loved and trusted. That cannot be dismissed so easily.”
“I don’t want to keep being reminded of it,” Olivia insisted.
The office she was sat in was unlike anything she expected of a therapist’s office. It was homely, with soft couches and beautiful matching drapes. It was as though she were sitting in a friend’s living room having coffee and chatting about their day. Only she wasn’t talking about her day; she was being encouraged to talk about “the event,” as it was now being called in her mind.
“It may well be that there will always be reminders, but that in time we will teach you different ways to deal with the triggers so that they become less do
minant,” Dr Demetri was saying, but Olivia’s mind had already wandered back to Hilary.
Olivia had been having thrice-weekly sessions with Dr Demetri for the past two weeks now. The nightmares had gotten worse, but the more she talked, the more she understood and was able to feel that this could be fixed.
“What do you want, Olivia?”
She thought back to the morning after the party, her mother’s suggestion that she call Hilary. Embarrassment and fear had stopped her at first, but eventually, she had plucked up the courage. But it had rung out; Hilary didn’t want to speak to her. And she couldn’t blame her for that.
In some ways, she had been grateful of that, that she didn’t have to hear the upset and disappointment in Hilary’s voice. It was cowardly though; she knew that.
Now, as she sat here listening to her doctor, she wondered if maybe she should try again, try harder to apologise and give Hilary the explanation she deserved.
“Hilary,” she finally answered.
~MB~
“Dad, I told you to just call me if you needed anything,” Hilary scolded when she caught sight of him up out of his chair. Michael Palmer was not a good patient. He was supposed to be resting and keeping his leg elevated so that the swelling would go down.
“I just wanted to get—”
“It doesn’t matter, Pop. Those crutches are to help with essential walking, not just getting up and wandering around. Just call me, I am only in the next room,” Hilary said, exasperated. She helped him back to his chair. “Okay, now what was it that you wanted?”
He sagged, defeated and disappointed. “There’s a magazine on the coffee table, it’s called Mega Structure.”
She smiled at him – it was hard to be angry with him for too long – and wandered across to get it. Handing the magazine to her father, she began to plump his pillows and fuss over him. “Hilary, will you stop? I am fine.” And he was fine. His ankle was healing as it should be, but still, she felt protective.
Her phone began to ring from somewhere in another room, but she ignored it and carried on tidying around him.
“Hils, will you go and answer that?”
“It can wait. Do you want some lunch now, or later?”
He considered the question. “Later. Go on, get back to work. I’ll be fine.”
She kissed the top of his head. “Alright, but I’m just next door. You call me if you want anything else.”
“I will, I promise.”
As she wandered back into her bedroom, the phone rang again. Olivia Copeland’s name flashed across the screen. She felt nauseous, her stomach roiling at the thought of answering the call. And then the questions started. Why was Olivia calling? Why now? What did she want? Hadn’t she said it all? Didn’t she make it clear how she felt? Two weeks had passed, and nothing, silence. But now Olivia was calling, and Hilary was angry about it. Who the hell did she think she was? How dare she think she could just call like that? What did she want?
And that was the question that burned most. What did Olivia want? Because if Hilary was honest, she still wanted Olivia. And she wanted an explanation.
When the phone rang once more, she took a calming breath and answered it.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Hilary it’s—”
“I know who it is Olivia, I have your number, remember?” Standing, she moved around the bed and sat down, leaning back against the pillows.
“Of course, yes. I…” Olivia sounded nervous, and for some reason, that gave Hilary more confidence.
“I don’t want to be rude, Liv, but I am kind of busy.” It wasn’t a big lie; she was working on her nursing re-certification still.
“Right, of course. I wondered if maybe you would meet me. For coffee? I realise that there are things I need to…” She thought for the right word. “Explain.”
Coffee? And an explanation? “Alright,” Hilary agreed quickly before the offer could be withdrawn.
“Yes? Okay. Great, so whenever you—”
Hilary cut her off. “I am free tonight.” She had her essay to finish on respiration, mitochondrion, and cristae, but that wouldn’t take long if she put aside a couple of hours tomorrow.
“Ok, would you like to come over, or—”
“I think I would prefer somewhere that isn’t your home, if that’s okay?” Memories of the last time she visited the house came flooding back, and she really didn’t want to think about that again.
“Of course, is Starbucks on Sunset okay?” Olivia asked hopefully.
“I’ll be there at six.” And with that, Hilary disconnected the call. She held the handset to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. Now, if she could just get through one conversation, then she could move on, and forget all about Olivia Copeland.
Some things, though, were always easier said than done.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Six P.M. on the dot and Hilary stood outside of Starbucks looking in at a woman who looked a lot like Olivia, but everything about her was so un-Olivia like.
The messy bun and oversized sweatshirt were nothing like anything Hilary had ever seen her wear before. She looked exhausted, radiating sadness. She was focused solely on whatever was on the table in front of her. It didn’t take a genius to know that Olivia Copeland was unhappy.
Walking in through the doors, she felt that nervous churning in her stomach once more. Then Olivia looked up and smiled at her, the smile one of apology, of sorrow, and Hilary couldn’t help but feel a tug at her heart. The nerves dissipated in an instant as she approached the table.
Olivia stood up. “Hi. I got you a salted caramel mocha Frappuccino, I hope that’s okay?”
“Thank you,” Hilary said quietly. Two things had impressed her already: Olivia was here first, and she had remembered her favourite drink. But she wouldn’t make it known just yet.
“Please, take a seat.” Olivia indicated the empty chair opposite her. “Thank you for coming, I know I had no right to even ask you…”
“To be honest, I almost didn’t answer your call,” Hilary replied.
Olivia nodded. “I completely understand. I’m not sure that I would have.” She smiled, but it quickly disappeared as she became more serious once more. “Firstly, I wanted to apologise for my behaviour at the party.” Hilary nodded, so she continued. “I want to be clear that none of this is your fault, you did nothing wrong—”
“I’m already aware of that, Olivia. I’ve been over and over it, and I know that I did nothing wrong.”
“You’re right, of course.” Olivia closed her eyes and took several calming breaths before chewing her lip again. She had gone over this conversation in her head all afternoon, and yet now she was here, she didn’t quite know how to begin. “I don’t really know where to…”
“At the beginning, Olivia, you start at the beginning,” Hilary offered. She added a small smile of her own as encouragement.
“I left England to come home because something happened to me. Something that has had an effect on…” She was fidgeting with her fingers. Hilary wasn’t stupid; she knew that when somebody told you something happened to them, then it was time to forget your own hurt, for a little while, and listen. She reached out a hand and took Olivia’s hand in her own, linking their fingers together.
“Take your time.” Hilary spoke softly, and Olivia took another stuttering breath. She tried to smile but didn’t feel it.
“I was in a relationship. Ava, she…She’s beautiful and charming, but she has so many issues. She drinks too much, and when she’s drunk then she takes anything that’s offered to her. And it makes her mean, and selfish…and she would cheat on me.”
“Wait, Ava? The Ava?”
Olivia nodded.
“She sounds like a dream,” Hilary said, sarcasm dripping from her words.
Olivia chuckled sadly. “Yes.” She sipped her coffee. “She made all these promises that she couldn’t keep.”
“She cheated on you again?”
Olivia nodded.
“Yes, yes she did, but…I didn’t actually know that then. She came home from a shoot and she was high, and when she was high, she would…When I kissed you, it was because I really wanted to, and I didn’t for one second think about Ava…I didn’t want to, I told her that I didn’t want to, but she ignored me...” Olivia looked to the ceiling and tried to suppress the tears she knew were forming. One escaped and rolled slowly down her cheek as she looked back down at Hilary.
It took a moment for Hilary to work out what she was saying, but she got the gist of it.
“I didn’t realise at first – after it happened, it didn’t occur to me what it was. I mean we were in a relationship, and she is a woman, and I just thought…But I know now what it was, and—”
“Jesus, Liv. She—” Hilary said in a hushed but urgent tone.
Olivia put her hand over Hilary’s. “Yes, and when you—"
“I made you feel as though you were being—” Hilary was horrified.
“No!” Olivia said loudly. Several heads turned from their own conversations to look towards them “No, Hilary, you didn’t make me feel anything other than wanted, special. You made me feel sexy, and desired, and everything I was supposed to feel in that moment, but I had a flashback. When you took my hands and held them down it just…it took me right back to that moment with Ava.” Now, the tears fell. Uncontrollably.
The door opened and a group of kids came inside making a lot of noise. Olivia wiped at her face, and Hilary made a decision. She stood up.
“What? Where are you going? I literally just poured my heart out to you and you’re going to just walk away?”
Hilary leaned in closer. “I think we should go to your place and do this in a less public place, don’t you?” She held out a hand for Olivia to take.
“Really? You don’t hate me?” Olivia replied, taking the hand and allowing Hilary to help her up.
“I never hated you, Olivia. I was hurt. I didn’t understand what I had done.”
“You didn’t—”
“I know, and that’s what was so confusing. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Model Behavior Page 11
