“I’ll be right back,” Olive said, and hoisted herself from the couch. She found Phil in the kitchen with Brian and his girlfriend, Kristin. Brian was shaking a martini shaker; he worked part time as a bartender.
“Was there not enough vodka in your cosmo?” Brian teased.
“Probably too much,” Olive said. “Just the way I like it.”
Kristin wrapped her in a sideways hug. “Oh, to be twenty-six again.” She had just turned twenty-nine last month.
“I know,” Olive agreed. “It’s weird.” She should be turning twenty-seven. She wondered if her body had stopped aging. If even at a cellular level, she was really only twenty-six. “Phil, you invited Kerrigan, right?”
“Oh crap. It never occurred to me to invite your best friend.” Phil slapped his forehead. “Of course, I did. She’s not here, yet? Well, you know Kerrigan. She’s probably out shopping for the perfect birthday gift at the last minute.”
Kristin handed Brian a martini glass, and something sparkly caught Olive’s eye. A big fat diamond. An engagement ring.
“Oh my God. Are you guys engaged?”
Was there a split-second hesitation, or did Olive imagine it? Kristin thrust her hand toward Olive, wiggling her fingers so that the diamond refracted the light and glittered. “Yes! Brian proposed last week. He picked the ring out himself. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Gorgeous. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys!” She hugged them and then caught Phil’s reserved expression over Kristin’s shoulder. He looked wary. Of course—he had already known about the engagement and withheld the news from her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked him. She tried to keep her tone light and teasing, rather than hurt and angry. He had just thrown her a surprise birthday party, after all.
This time she was sure she wasn’t imagining the hesitation or the look that passed between the three of them.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It just happened on Sunday, and I’ve been so busy planning for this party.”
But Brian was his best friend, and Olive suspected Brian had told him about his plan to propose well before the fact. Phil was undoubtedly going to stand up in the wedding, probably even be his best man. How could it simply slip Phil’s mind to tell her something of this magnitude? Something that meant so much to him? Although she could hardly compare this to the magnitude of her own secret.
“Men,” Kristin said, shaking her head with a smile. “I was on the phone with my sister thirty seconds after I said yes. Gosh, and there’s so much to do because we’re planning a Valentine’s Day wedding. Four months is a bit ambitious, I know, but our first date was on Valentine’s Day, and you would not believe how many wedding reception sites are available in February.” Olive could tell she was trying to smooth over the situation.
She suddenly wondered if Brian and Kristin had known about Phil’s proposal. Perhaps Phil had told Brian, and Brian had told Kristin, and that was why everything was so awkward now. Because Kristin had said yes, and Olive had not. Olive trained her eyes on Phil. He was pulling out another plate of strawberries and pineapple slices from the fridge. They hadn’t talked about the proposal since March, when he’d told her he still had the ring. But now that they’d moved in together, she wondered if he was planning on asking her again. More than anything she wanted to say yes, but the truth had to come first. The truth made the kitchen feel hot and close.
“That sounds so lovely,” Olive said. “Sorry, but I’ve got to make the rounds. Congrats again.” She took the fruit plate from Phil to set on the coffee table by the fondue pot.
Kerrigan had just arrived, and she wasn’t alone. A tall man with shaggy blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses was helping her out of her coat. He was good-looking in a scholarly, middle-aged way. He was probably somewhere in his late thirties. He didn’t look like Kerrigan’s type at all, but he seemed somehow familiar to Olive.
When Kerrigan spotted her, she started playing air guitar and singing loudly, “They say it’s your birthday. Nur-nur-nur-nur-nur. It’s my birthday, too, yeah. Nur-nur-nur-nur-nur.” Next she used her clutch purse as a microphone to serenade Olive with the song that had become their tradition over the years. “Happy birthday, girlfriend!” Kerrigan concluded. She shook snow crystals from her hair as she danced toward Olive. Kerrigan embraced her and whispered in her ear, “I want you to meet Fritz.”
“Fritz?”
“Dr. Fritz Morgan. We met at Heureux Hasard. Remember that swanky little bar by the Capitol we went to a few months ago? Where we ran into your coworker Alex? Well, apparently, it’s the hangout of a lot of cute doctors.”
Olive blanched at the mention of Alex. Fritz stepped forward and shook her hand. He seemed amused by Kerrigan’s antics.
“Happy birthday,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you. I work at Dane County General, too. You’re in the ICU, right? I’m in surgery.”
Dr. Morgan, the surgeon. She’d seen him in the ICU on a few occasions. He looked different without his white coat and hanging all over her friend.
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said. “Thanks for coming. I’ll take your coats.” She carried their damp coats to the bedroom and tossed them on the heap that had already formed on the bed. She paused for a second, relishing the quiet and solitude of the bedroom. Cashew crept out from under the bed when he realized it was her. She squatted down to scratch his head, and he licked her fingers.
They had purchased a new, more gender-neutral duvet cover for Olive’s down comforter. It was a peaceful blue and green that reminded her of Lake Mendota. Matching nightstands flanked the bed. On Phil’s were his watch and a neatly folded Wall Street Journal. On hers were a paperback novel her mom had recommended and a framed photo of her family in front of the Blue Ridge Mountains, a snapshot from a trip they’d taken in 1998 to watch the monarch butterfly migration.
It thrilled her that this bedroom was theirs. That their clothes were mingled in the closet. That they slept together in this bed every night.
She gave Cashew one last head rub and then returned to the party, where Kerrigan was introducing Fritz to Tina and Jeff. Olive could tell from Tina’s body language that she was unimpressed. Doctors were a dime a dozen to her. Jeff and Fritz, however, seemed to have hit upon something in common and were talking animatedly.
Olive set off to talk to Claire, whom she hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to tonight, but Kerrigan intercepted her. “I need to talk to you in private.” Carrying a nearly empty martini glass, she led Olive down the hallway to the one unfinished room in the condo. Boxes were stacked in one corner of the extra bedroom; in the other stood Phil’s Bowflex.
“You couldn’t have told me whatever you wanted to tell me in the kitchen or the bedroom?” Olive asked. “This seems kind of antisocial.”
Kerrigan ignored her and shut the door behind them. “I have awesome news. Guess what?”
Olive sat on the black leather seat of the Bowflex and swung her legs. “What?”
“I found the perfect solution to my living situation. I’m moving in with Fritz. He has this awesome apartment in one of the high-rises downtown. Ninth floor. He has a view of Lake Monona.”
“That sounds great, but isn’t this a little fast?”
“We’ve actually known each other for a couple of months now. I didn’t tell you, because—well, I know it’s fast, but it’s kind of serious.” Kerrigan paced across the room. “He’s really amazing, Olive. He adores me and he’s gentle and sweet and he’s great in bed and he loves to travel and I feel like I can tell him anything and he won’t judge me or tell me I’m stupid. When I told him that I’ve been wanting to go back to school to get my MBA, he told me to go for it and not wait another minute. He takes me seriously. He likes me for who I am.” She stopped to take a breath. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Olive looked down at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know what to say. I
have to gather my thoughts first. You kind of caught me off guard.”
“You don’t know what to say? How about ‘I’m happy for you, Kerrigan’? Is it too much for me to expect you to be happy for me for once?”
“Of course I’m happy for you! I’m glad you met someone. I’m just a little worried. You haven’t known each other for very long. What if you move into his place and things don’t work out? It could be a big mess.”
“You and Phil moved in together. You bought a frickin’ condo together. Like that wouldn’t be messy if things didn’t work out!” Kerrigan crunched the olive from her martini between her teeth.
“Yes, but we’ve been dating for four years now, Kerrigan! We know each other pretty well.”
“You don’t know everything about each other. You keep secrets.”
“Kerrigan, I—”
“Fritz and I don’t keep secrets. We’ve known each other for only two months, but we don’t lie to each other. We don’t pretend we’re perfect. For example, I know that Fritz is married, and I’m okay with that.”
“Oh, shit. Fritz is married? Nothing good can come of this, Kerrigan.”
Kerrigan glowered. “I knew you were going to make a big deal out of this. I just knew it, because that’s the kind of person you are. His wife lives in New York. She’s finishing up her PhD in biochemistry or something. They’ve been married four years, and three of the four years, they’ve lived in different states.”
“Does she know?”
“She will soon. Fritz wants a divorce.”
“Does he really mean that, or is he just saying it so you’ll be with him?”
Kerrigan kicked one of the boxes. “He means it!”
“Don’t do that. You might break something.”
Kerrigan turned to face her. The flush of exhilaration had drained from her face. Even her provoking demeanor had passed.
“It’s my birthday, and you’re my best friend. I don’t want to argue with you. I just want what’s best for you. If you think this is it, then I’ll be happy for you.” Olive stood up from the Bowflex.
Kerrigan didn’t say anything for a long time. “He wasn’t wearing his ring when I met him,” she said at last. “He says he never wears it because he doesn’t want to lose it inside somebody during an operation. That none of the surgeons do. If he had had a ring on . . .”
“I know, Kerrigan. You’re not like that.” Olive reached out to touch her shoulder.
“I’m not like that? Like what, Olive?” She whirled away from her, out of her touch. “A cheap slut? Say what you really mean. God, you’re so judgmental. You think you’re so much better than me, so much better than everyone, just because you think you’ve got a free pass with this whole time warp thing. But really you’re just hiding from your mistakes, while the rest of us have to deal with the consequences.”
“That’s not what I think,” Olive objected.
“I’m so sick of your holier-than-thou attitude. The week after Phil tried to propose to you, you screwed a doctor in the Family Room of the ICU. Don’t you think he would be interested in knowing that?”
“Please, Kerrigan, lower your voice.” Her blood pumped through her veins like a speeding train rattling its tracks. “You know it’s not that straightforward. That happened the first time I lived through 2011. This time around I didn’t do it. I’ve been—”
“Oh, is that how it works?” Kerrigan widened her eyes. “Right. Cheating in an alternate universe doesn’t constitute cheating. Rule Number One in the Olive Watson Handbook to Perfect Fucking Relationships.”
Olive tried to keep her voice level because she was afraid if she didn’t, a scream might erupt. “I’m going to tell him soon. About everything. But I need to break the news gently. When the time is right.”
“It’s November, Olive, and time’s a-wasting. Ten months have passed, and the time was never right? Will it ever be right?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. But the purpose of this year is not to make me pay doubly. It’s to free me—”
“If you think you’re free, you’re lying to yourself,” Kerrigan snapped. She set her martini glass on a box and fled to the door.
“Kerrigan, please!” Olive hurried to the door to block her exit, but Kerrigan was too quick for her. She shut the door in Olive’s face and was already halfway down the hall by the time Olive could open the door and follow her. Olive’s heart was trying to jump out of her chest. Where was Phil? Was Kerrigan going to expose her here in front of everyone? At her birthday party? Olive was nearly running to catch up with Kerrigan now. She overtook her just as Kerrigan was reaching a clump of people in the living room—Fritz and Phil were among them.
“Get our coats,” Kerrigan hissed to Fritz. “We’re leaving.”
Phil raised his eyebrows at Olive. She hurried to his side and tugged on his arm, effectively pulling him out of the circle and away from Kerrigan.
“We had a fight,” she whispered. “Kerrigan’s really angry with me.”
“Really? About what?” Phil asked.
“I’ll tell you later. Just don’t listen to anything she says, okay?”
He looked suspicious, but Robin and Lisa came up then and diverted his attention. “Who made the fondue?” Robin asked. “It’s delicious.”
While Phil explained to Robin that it was actually just a pre-made mix, Olive positioned herself more and more between Phil and Kerrigan. She eyed the hallway, waiting for Fritz to emerge with the coats. For every minute that passed and he didn’t appear, Olive grew more panicked. Kerrigan was going to say something. She could feel Kerrigan’s resentment as if it were a hot, itchy blanket she couldn’t shake loose. The room was too loud, too crowded. She couldn’t hear what Phil was saying, but his lips were moving. She squeezed his hand, and he looked down at her. He seemed to be asking her a question, but she couldn’t make it out. He said something to Robin and Lisa and then wrapped his arm around Olive’s shoulders and guided her to the bedroom. They passed Fritz on the way.
Suddenly she could breathe again. Her ears came unplugged. She could hear the tinkling of Cashew’s collar as he paced in front of the bed. Phil pushed some of the coats aside so they had room to sit down.
“Are you okay? You looked like you were going to pass out.”
“It’s just so hot out there. I felt kind of light-headed.”
“Are you feeling better now, or do you need to lie down?” He passed his cool hands over her burning cheeks and forehead.
“I’m better now. I just need a moment.” She closed her eyes.
“What happened between you and Kerrigan?” He sounded concerned, not accusatory.
She took a couple of slow, deep breaths and opened her eyes. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now, but I’ll give you the condensed version. That doctor she’s dating? Well, he’s a married man, but they’re moving in together. I told her I didn’t think that was the best idea, and she went off on me.”
“Wow. Really?” Phil stood up from the bed and walked to his scratched mahogany dresser. It was the only piece of furniture in the room that was his, and it stood out as such. He seemed to be waiting for her to say more, but Olive was resolved to say as little as possible right now, for fear that everything else would come tumbling out. “Do you think this has something to do with us moving in together?” he asked.
That surprised her. Sometimes she forgot how perceptive he was. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”
He came back to the bed and stood in front of her, cupping his hands loosely behind her neck and pulling her face close. “I’m sorry this had to happen on your birthday, but I’m sure you’ll both work it out somehow. You’re being a good friend, Olive. The person that Kerrigan can count on to tell her the hard truth when she really doesn’t want to hear it.” He kissed her nose.
He gave her too much credit,
thought too highly of her. Really it was Kerrigan who was trying to make Olive face the hard truth. She was a horrible friend. An even worse girlfriend.
“Phil, I . . .”
He unlocked his hands and let them run down over her hair, smoothing it over her shoulders. “It’s okay, Ollie. If you want me to ask everyone to go, I will. Or if you want to stay in here, I can tell everyone you’re not feeling well—”
“No, don’t do that! I haven’t gotten to talk to everyone yet, and so many of them came all the way from Milwaukee. I just need a moment to collect my thoughts, and I’ll be okay. Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right out.”
The door clicked softly in place, and Olive fell back on the bed. She was safe for now, but she didn’t know for how long. She would have to tell Phil before Kerrigan got to him. The coats next to her smelled musty like damp wool. She rolled onto her side and tried to imagine a scenario where all her words came out right, where Phil understood and instantly forgave her, and their lives continued on almost as though nothing had happened. But what she kept imagining was her life with Phil slipping away.
A cell phone in someone’s purse or coat pocket rang and startled Olive from her reverie. She steeled herself to return to the party. Claire was hovering outside the door when she opened it.
“Oh no. Are you leaving already?” Olive asked.
Claire smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Olive. I’ve still got a long drive ahead of me tonight.”
“Oh, of course. I understand. I only wish I’d had more time to talk to you. I promise I’ll make a trip to Milwaukee sometime soon so we can catch up. How’s Nathan doing?”
The Repeat Year Page 25
