by Laurie Lewis
Olivia muttered “thank you” to the nameless woman.
“Ben and I left the park as soon as we got the car packed and Joey cleaned up. We must have arrived just a few minutes after the accident.”
The harrowing words caused Olivia to slump into her bed. “We’ve met before?”
The woman set her flowers down and stepped back. Two fingers covered her mouth as apologies rambled out. “I’m so sorry. We only met that day. I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“Wait,” said Olivia, as the fog cleared and fragments of that last day shifted into place. She remembered the checkered tablecloth spread across a picnic table under a towering tree. And a small boy digging in the nearby sand. She saw Jeff and a man tossing a football through a gap between two branches, and … “You had sliced oranges.”
The woman laughed nervously. “Yes. Orange slices are the only thing I can get Joey to eat besides bread and cheese sticks.”
“You’re married to Jeff’s high school friend.”
The woman’s smile returned. “Yes. Ben Ashburn is my husband. I’m Laurel.”
“You found us after the accident?”
She nodded slowly. “Jeff left his wallet on the picnic table when you drove off. We tried calling you, but no one answered. Then Ben remembered Jeff saying his next stop was the Charter Bank in Hillsboro, so we headed that way. We had only gone a few miles when we saw the flashing lights.”
Olivia remembered Jeff ignoring a call. Why? Because they were fighting. For the first time that she could remember, Olivia had challenged Jeff. But why this time? She bit her lip as her hand fell over her barren belly. She had done it for the baby she would never know.
“I shouldn’t have come so soon. Instead of helping, I’m adding to your distress. I just wanted to return this, and to let you know I’m nearby if I can do anything for you. Again, I’m so very sorry for your loss.” Laurel laid Jeff’s wallet on the bed table and stepped back.
“No. Please. Don’t go,” said Olivia, as she tore her eyes from the wallet and pulled herself together. “You’re helping me remember. Tell me about that day. Please, sit.”
Laurel Ashburn was tentative as she sat on the edge of the recliner. “That picnic meant the world to Ben. To both of us. Hudson comes back from time to time, but no one had heard from Jeff in years, and then we read what he posted on the reunion site and realized Beaverton had two successful sons that put us on the map. Well, the thought that such successful people would make personal time for an old high school friend made Ben feel very special.”
Such successful people … Olivia cringed inwardly and stretched a hand out toward Laurel. “I’m the one who envies you and your wonderful life. You have each other, a successful business, roots in a town you love, and you have your beautiful son.”
Laurel touched a blush-warmed cheek. “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say. Our life is simple, but it suits us. I read Jeff’s reunion post. I can’t imagine a life like yours, racing coast to coast between big advertising offices. But Ben appreciated Jeff’s interest in his little dream. He loves building, and he’s good at it. He hopes to move along with the plans he and Jeff made.”
An uncomfortable chill snaked up Olivia’s spine. “Remind me about Ben’s plans.”
“His father owns a thousand acres of timberland near the county line. If they hire a company to come in and clear-cut it, they’ll only get a fraction of the value of the lumber, but hiring a crew and leasing equipment would cost them a fortune they don’t have, so they gave up on the dream of developing that land until Jeff offered to help.”
Prickles appeared on Olivia’s arms. Their only shame to this point was self-aggrandizement. Jeff theorized that more territory meant more opportunities, so they set up a premier website for a company called McAllister and McAllister Marketing, or MMM, and bought post office boxes in New York, Tampa, Dallas, and L.A. to establish a presence in each of those lucrative markets.
Despite their tireless work, MMM failed to land any clients bigger than the small businesses who advertised in the coupon booklets and mailers they distributed. It was a legitimate enterprise that made a decent profit, but the four-market strategy required them to be mobile, living in short-term, pre-furnished rentals while everything they owned was stuffed in their car. Jeff promised Olivia they would settle down where and when he landed one big client or the right connection that would launch their company. Olivia feared he was counting on Ben to be that opportunity. But what was he planning to use as capital?
“Do you remember the terms of Jeff’s offer?”
Laurel jumped to her feet. “I-I didn’t come here asking you to fulfill it.”
“I understand. Please … You’re helping me put the pieces of that last day back together.”
Laurel returned to the chair and sat stiffly. “There’s not much to tell. Our high school reunion committee put that Facebook group together to gather info on the class. Ben posted about his logging and development dream. A few days later, Jeff called to say he’d seen Ben’s post, and he’d like to discuss the development project. He said he was coming to Portland in a month, so we arranged that picnic. While the guys were tossing that football around, Jeff told Ben he was going to see his banker in Hillsboro to set up a line of credit while Ben got bids on leasing the logging equipment.”
Olivia’s hands wrung as she weighed Laurel’s words. How was he planning to get a line of credit? Olivia closed her eyes to think. She handled the family/corporate finances, which amounted to less than a thousand dollars she’d managed to protect from Jeff’s other pie-in-the-sky investments. In fact, they were fighting over finances in the car the day of the accident. That’s why she chose that minute to tell him about the baby.
Rather than discuss things rationally, Jeff stopped the car, told her he couldn’t do “this” anymore, and then blindly walked into the road and into the path of an oncoming truck barreling around the bend. She shivered at the memory.
Their financial fallout was now expanding. What was Jeff thinking when he contacted Ben Ashburn? But Jeff wasn’t the only one with poor intentions. How could she have ever thought that hiring an internet attorney to go after Hudson was an acceptable strategy?
Olivia raised her head and looked at Laurel. “Laurel, the truth is, McAllister and McAllister is in the red. We’re broke. As badly as Jeff may have wanted to help Ben, we couldn’t get a line of credit right now. So please tell Ben not to take a risk based on anything Jeff offered.”
Laurel nodded and smiled. “I kind of felt that something wasn’t quite right. That there was a strain between you. Money troubles can do that to a couple, even when both people love each other.” She walked over and placed a hand on Olivia’s arm. “Maybe we’re not so different after all. I’d like to stay in touch if that’s all right. Maybe you could use an extra friend while you’re here.”
Mixed-purpose tears stung Olivia’s eyes. She was free from her suffocating secret, and she had a new friend, but there were new questions and loose threads she’d have to deal with. Like the lawsuit she had filed against Hudson.
Susan returned alone and stood in the doorway, listening to the conversation. “Susan … this is—” Olivia’s mind went blank.
Laurel turned and offered Susan her hand. “Hi. We finally meet in person. I’m Laurel Ashburn.”
“So nice to put a face with the name.” Susan turned to Olivia. “You’ve got a good friend here. She checked on you every day.”
Laurel smiled at Olivia but addressed her remarks to Susan. “I meant what I said on the phone. I’m here if I can help. You’ve got my number. Seriously … call me.” With a final smile at Olivia, she was gone.
Olivia held her breath, waiting to see if Susan would mention the conversation she had overheard. “I didn’t know you were coming back today. Is everything all right?”
She pulled a newspaper from her purse and handed it to Olivia. “We saw this in the gift shop. Reporters tied you and Jeff to Hudson. They’re diggi
ng into every aspect of your lives and making my brother look like some jealous fraud who scammed people while chasing classmate Hudson Bauer’s success.”
Olivia sat up and faced Susan. “Our company was real. An LLC. We went to work every day. In fact, work was nearly all we ever did until our marriage was little more than a continuous business meeting. Jeff may have pretended he was already what he hoped to become, but he found clients and accounts in all those cities, and I made sure that every contract was fulfilled and every debt was paid.”
“Thanks for telling me that. My parents adored Jeff. These stories describe a man they don’t recognize at all. Reading them was like losing him again.” Her head tilted to the side. “It was easy to blame you for Jeff’s withdrawal from the family, but I overheard your conversation. I’m willing to admit that we may have gotten that wrong.”
Susan blew her nose and sighed. “We ran into one of the interns on your case. You will be discharged tomorrow morning. We can proceed with the plan to hold Jeff’s memorial service in the afternoon.”
Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes.
“And there’s something else. I’m sorry, Olivia, but my parents need me.” Her voice broke and she quickly recovered. “I’m all they’ve got now, and I have so little time before I report back to school. I need to spend it with them.”
Olivia nodded, fully aware that the fear she felt inside was apparent on her face.
“I know this sounds harsh, but for the first time, I’m trying to be a good sister-in-law to you, so listen to me. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt on the past, but that means what happens going forward is entirely on you. If you can’t ask your mom to help you, then take the help that’s available. Laurel wants to help, and Hudson has offered to let you use his parents’ house. There’s even a car for your use, and he’ll cover whatever else you need.”
“I don’t want to depend on Hudson. I’d rather go to a rehab center.”
“I’ve already accepted Hudson’s offer.” Susan placed his business card on the side table. “I’m spending the night with my folks, but I’ll be here around noon to pick you up and take you to the service. I’ll arrange for Laurel to get you back to Hudson’s house, and you should accept her offer to come every day until you’re well enough to drive. If you don’t like these plans, you’ll have to call Hudson and Laurel yourself.” Susan moved to the door and stopped in her tracks, pressing her forehead against the wood. After a long silence, she turned back around and said, “I don’t know what happened between you and my brother, but suffering in silence hasn’t served you well so far. Please accept Hudson’s help.”
“You really want me to do that, even knowing that Hudson may have ruined Jeff’s life?”
“Perhaps Hudson deserves some of that benefit of the doubt I just extended to you.”
5
The small funeral room reserved for Jeff’s service was packed with gawkers and reporters. Hudson arrived a few minutes late, intending to be the last one in the room and the first one out. His jaw tensed when he saw Liv sitting in a wheelchair, a study in brittle dignity. Her left arm was still in a sling, and while her left leg was wrapped, the right was worse, braced to immobilize the knee. Her long, dark hair hung loosely, hiding her face until she turned his way. The telltale shades of bruising—blue/green and yellow—showed under her makeup on the left side. One stitched cut lay across the lean angle of her right jaw. Another sat above her right eyebrow. None of it obscured her beauty. She still took his breath away.
She remained poised through every speaker’s measured remarks about Jeff’s childhood and sports achievements, with a conspicuous silence on him as an adult. At the end, when the minster asked if anyone else would like to speak, Olivia raised her hand.
Several quiet moments passed after they brought the microphone to her. Then, drawing a breath, she said, “Jeff lived his life by William Arthur Ward’s maxim, ‘If you can believe it, you can achieve it.’ So he lived as if he had already achieved the life he wanted—dreaming big, working hard, taking chances, paying his debts as he went, and sadly, dying too young. One hundred years ago, people would have applauded his spirit, and that is how those who loved him will remember him.”
Hudson had never been more proud of her or more confused. By every measure that mattered, Jeff McAllister had been a lousy husband, but here Liv was defending him. Maybe she really did love him. Maybe their marriage was better than it appeared.
He left the room by the back door, but Susan zoned in on his retreat, broke ranks with the family, and caught up with him. She looked like a wooden soldier with her arms by her sides and her jaw as stiff as her resolve. Hudson reached out his hand to her.
“My parents are falling apart. I told Olivia I need to spend every minute I can with them. I sent you an email with the name and number of a friend of Olivia’s named Laurel. She’s willing to help out for a while, and frankly, Olivia has no other options. I’ve arranged for Laurel to bring Olivia to your house after the funeral luncheon, and then Olivia or you will have to figure it out from there. I’m sorry.” Susan turned and walked away.
Flummoxed, Hudson pulled up the email and called Laurel’s number on the drive home to hire her to be Olivia’s caretaker for the next few weeks. As he ended that call, the phone beeped with a message from Alejandra, alerting Hudson that several gossip rags had picked up on Hudson’s connection to the Jeff and Olivia McAllister story and had called for comment. He swore under his breath. The greatest miscalculation of his life, and the resulting fallout, were now matters of public discussion.
He focused on more urgent matters and hurried home to make things comfortable for Olivia, assuming she would agree to recuperate at the beach house. He was making closet space for her as a car pulled into the driveway. Nervous as a rabbit in a rifle sight, he went out to meet the women.
Laurel was standing by the open, rear car door that led to Olivia. After offering her a brief welcome, hudsonm welcomed her and is gaze locked with Liv’s dark brown eyes. The pain and fear he saw there made his heart lurch, and then a tear streaked down her cheek. She seemed as fragile as crystal. He longed to pull her into his arms and promise her that everything would be all right, but the fear of hurting her and the sting of her rebuke left him tentative and wary as he carefully lifted her into the wheelchair. Once Olivia was safely inside the house, Hudson turned things over to Laurel. “Settle her inside. I’ll bring the bags, and then I should probably go.”
* * *
“Please push me into a bedroom,” Olivia whispered urgently as panic rose in her. Laurel obliged, pushing her down the hall and into the first room she came to. “I just need a moment.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
A meager nod served as Olivia’s response. “But please don’t tell him I’m crying.”
Laurel patted her shoulder, and then backed through the door, closing it.
Olivia surveyed the familiar room through tearful eyes. “The sunshine room,” as Mrs. Bauer referred to it, had been hers on the many weekends she spent with Hudson and his parents. She remembered being awakened by the sun spilling through the large windows and the gingham checked curtains, bathing the yellow and white space with light. She could almost hear Hudson’s knock at the door, summoning her for a morning walk while his mother prepared omelets and fresh fruit. They would work the daily puzzle between bites or argue over the day’s news. She could often hear him belaboring his position through the door as she dressed. The room that launched those beautiful days, her sanctuary from college stress, caused her pain this day, serving as a reminder of lost innocence and of how far she had strayed from who she once was and what she once wanted.
She wiped her tears and took a deep breath. Jeff was gone. At their best, they were colleagues and occasional lovers. At their worst, they were masters of isolation. But even so, his had been the face she woke up to every morning. For eight years, they had shared tight quarters, broken bread together, cheered their few s
uccesses, and shared their disappointments. The tears began anew as she faced the blank pages of her future. They could have been more to each other. Could have done so much more for each other.
She needed to sleep. She needed her pain meds.
After a few frustrating minutes maneuvering the chair around the furniture, she managed to open the door but was wedged at an angle and stuck. With painful effort, she craned her neck and found Hudson and Laurel sitting at the kitchen table, flipping pages in the blue folder that held her discharge instructions.
She studied the intense worry on Hudson’s face, his forehead resting in one hand as the other leafed through the notes. His face was leaner now, covered in dark, manly stubble. A few lines creased the edges of those dark eyes that seemed too intense for the once peaceful collegiate.
She could see the young man she once knew in his upturned nose and in the way he sucked his cheeks in when he was deep in thought. His previous thin, youthful frame was muscled and moved with confidence now. They were the same height—five feet ten inches. Back in their college days, she enjoyed wearing heels and towering over him. He never minded nor did she. He was now the one towering over others in the corporate world. No longer equals, they were worlds apart, brought together only by pity. Or by guilt.
She tried again to dislodge the chair, but the ruckus caught Hudson’s attention. He rose and took a few tentative steps in her direction.
“May I help you?” he asked.
His formal address was uttered with a softness that melted her pride. She nodded.
So much about him was different. So much was yet the same. He had never cared for pretense. Comfortable clothes, serviceable shoes, soap, water, a neat haircut. These were Hudson’s fashion trademarks. His style had evolved.
Hudson leaned over her to maneuver the wheels. The cologne he wore surprised her. Never a fan of guy perfume, as he called it, he acquiesced during a pre-graduation shopping trip to the mall. Olivia made him stop at the men’s fragrance counter so they could test a cologne she found in the fold of a magazine at a doctor’s office—Acqua Di Gio. She raved about the scent, but Hudson “didn’t think it was him.” She knew now that he had been right. This clean and woodsy scent suited him, taking her back to hikes shared with Hudson along the coastal trails, campfires on the beach, and the mingled aroma of woodland air and the sea.
