by Blythe Stone
She was always going to be more important to me than how I wanted things.
“I wasn't going to be happy with anything but you anyway,” Olivia said.
“Next year we should just go away,” I said.
“Avery, I love you,” she said. “I don’t know if I don’t say it enough or if it just feels like no matter what that’s all I want to say. I’m just fucked up.”
“You're not alone. It's probably sick but it's one of the reasons I'm obsessed with you. You can match me and you see my shit and you still want me,” I confessed.
“I don’t see bad shit,” Olivia said, turning and looking at me. “You’ve been so great and actually happy this week. And I’ve been this cloud over everything but I want to be with you and I love that you’re happy. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. You want to bake cookies and decorate trees and do all this cute positive stuff and I just want to read trashy depressing memoirs about people who are more fucked up than me- I want to fuck you all night and all day- I mean to the point that I’m dehydrated and physically broken and I forget to see half the people I should see- and I want to get lost and be drunk and stupid on fancy overpriced whiskey. I’m fucking stupid and that’s not some holiday spirit, it’s not cute.”
“No, but it's real,” I said.
Perfection wasn't real.
“You know what I mean,” she whispered to herself. “And like Natalie said, you didn’t actually agree to this when you married me,” she motioned her hands in front of herself as if to say she was just a grouch and pathetic. “You didn’t even know...”
“It wasn't like a contract. We got married fast and young. There are a lot of things that are going to come up that we didn't know about each other. Do you think I just love parts of you? Cause that's silly,” I said.
Olivia didn’t speak. She hugged her stomach with her arms and turned back around, taking a few steps before leaning against the patio railing to stretch or do something.
“Baby, I was never going to have the perfect Christmas. Let's be honest, that was unrealistic. Nothing can be like memories,” I said.
“Well then, I’m sorry I can’t ever stack up,” she said, turning back and moving to push past me angrily.
“What did I say now?” I asked.
She was really confusing sometimes. I took a breath, suppressing the need to run away once again. I followed her.
Olivia went down the patio steps and started to walk towards the guest house the long way. “If I’m so bad at even coming close to being as good as your past what’s the point?” She muttered.
“You are taking this the wrong way,” I caught up and walked beside her. “I meant that I was trying to make up for all the years Christmas was shitty in one holiday and that's not realistic. I wasn't even talking about you,” I said.
She cut through the secret sidewalk that ran between the music room and the large expensive palms.
“Well, you might not have intended to but you kind of put a whole lot of pressure on me this week. I get it though, I am an asshole.”
We came to the opening of the patio, the place where the kitchen led out to the expensive furniture outside. Nat must’ve still been inside waiting. Olivia didn’t care. She walked to the pool and tugged her tight dress off until she was only in her black bra and underwear, looking back at me patiently, she panted for a few moments, deciding something and holding in her simmering rage.
“I always want to be perfect for you,” she said. “I mean, I thought you might notice someday. Do I really have to say it?”
The sun beat down, turning Christmas into a paradise again. Olivia turned away, a lot more calm. She took her time and was careful, walking to the edge of the pool, lining up her toes and diving into the cool blue.
I waited until she surfaced and stared down at her.
“You're perfect for me already. You don't have to try and be anything. I thought you knew that,” I said.
I put my hand on my hip and tried to calm my racing heart. She got so caught up in what she thought I wanted or needed from her that she missed the point entirely and now she was mad at me for not realizing it. Was I supposed to read her damn mind?
She put her head down and just started to slowly swim freestyle.
I heard the back door open and saw Natalie coming out.
“Everything better?” She asked, coming up behind me and handing me a cold open beer. She’d procured oversized shades from somewhere and appeared about twenty times more beautiful somehow. I guess she wasn’t lying about rushing right over. A little time alone for her meant an opportunity for beautification.
“No, it's worse,” I sighed. “I don't even know how it got so bad. She thinks I think that she can't stack up to my childhood Christmas memories, and that I don't see that she's trying to be perfect.”
“Hmm,” Natalie said. “I wonder where she’d get a crazy idea like that.”
She clinked her beer to mine and winked before flaring her eyes and drinking some of her beer quickly down.
“Is this all you guys do all the time? Hide things from each other and make-up absurd reasons to fight? Don’t get me wrong,” she back-stepped. “It’s super hot. It’s just… I dunno, I never pegged you two for drama central. You’re more snuggles and sex-romps. Rubbing other people’s faces in your perfect perfect love.”
“We have our moments and I have no idea what you mean though. I can't say anything without fucking up,” I said.
“Well, maybe ignore her for a while then,” Nat suggested. “Olivia’s kind of like a cat,” she laughed. “Have some beer with me. Stop stressing out so much. Let’s watch some random Youtube videos and bake some cookies,” Natalie smiled. “She’ll come around. She wants to. I promise,” she smiled.
“I'm kind of fighting the urge to run twenty miles in a random direction,” I said, still watching Olivia swim.
“Change,” Natalie said. “Put some running clothes on. Some sunscreen. And take your phone. She’s obviously going through something and you are too. I’ll wait here. I’ll pick you up. It’s fine,” Natalie said. “She’s hurt. You’re hurt. Take a breath. I got this.”
She stood strong at my side and drank her beer now a bit more intense than before.
“No, I'm not leaving this house until she’s ready to talk to me so beer and Christmas carols?” I suggested.
“Mmm. Whatever works best for you,” Natalie said in solidarity. “You know, Olivia’s not so good with straight talk. It’s kind of her achilles heel. Like, she can’t even do it. She changes the subject and tries to control things. It’s a fun game actually. Well… I mean.. I always liked it.”
We both stared out at her, watching.
“I suck at it,” I said.
“That can’t be true,” Natalie smiled over to me. “She chose you for a reason and it wasn’t just because you’ve got perfect boobs,” she checked me out and tried not to be frustrated.
“Probably because she's a masochist,” I snorted.
“Oh, that’s certainly true,” Natalie laughed.
“See, you could have calmed her down instead of setting her off. I don't ever see it coming somehow. My brain does not work on that level,” I said.
“Do you really not get that maybe that’s what she likes?” Natalie beamed. “Your brain is lovely Avery, it’s great and perfect. It’s just different and Olivia’s fucking with you. I’m not saying she’s doing it on purpose but she obviously digs her own holes. Am I wrong?”
“No, but I don't know what to do and I just feel like I'm going to fail her but at the same time I want to jump her,” I explained.
Natalie laughed and seemed to agree with me. “Do you even know what Olivia wants most out of life?” She wondered, drinking the last of her beer down. “Mm, wait a second, I’ll be right back, I promise.”
She wandered back into the kitchen and I watched at her back for a second and thought about her question.
There were a lot of answers bouncing around in
my head but only a few found purchase as possible.
Natalie came back with two more cold beers in her hands. When she got close she offered me one.
I accepted it and drank too big gulps. This was going to be a long night.
“Thanks,” I said.
I took another swig and wiped a little beer from the side of my lips.
“For everything not just the beer.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Nat said.
“I know,” I said.
We were just standing here watching.
“You wanna go eat some naked cookies?” I laughed and found her eyes with mine. “Not the ones from the floor of course.”
“I wanna make some pretty ones,” Natalie said. “Besides, I already picked those other ones up. Those were rage cookies so they had to go in the trash.”
“Ah, I didn't know there was such a thing but sure why not?”
I shrugged and turned to go inside, looking back at Olivia one last time.
Chapter 8
Olivia
In a way I was sort of glad that Nat dropped in.
It wasn’t just because she was perfect and I missed her. She had a way with Avery that I could try to approach but never quite live up to. It was odd in that way.
I swam for a long time, being extra slow to keep myself in strength enough to keep Avery at bay.
She wanted to talk about everything, see?
How could I talk about it? I tried to talk and she missed half of the issues and then focused on one fucked up thing. Like when I told her how dumb I was she didn’t disagree at all, she just told me I was human. That’s almost exactly an admission. Like she agreed that: yes, Olivia is dumb.
I swam for a while, pacing myself. Then the anger picked up inside and I started to sprint.
Of course when I finally had to stop and breathe I was left alone in my pool. The one thing I was used to was being alone. Only truth was I never got used to it. I could do it. It was my way. But I never understood it or liked it, it always felt like I was bleeding, in need.
I slowly walked up the pool stairs and listened.
The back door to the kitchen was open. I heard music and laughter. Avery and Natalie were playing and laughing, baking cookies like I was supposed to do. Of course, I was shit.
I walked on my toes until I found the trail up to the treehouse and quietly took it. I didn’t want them to follow. If they were having fun that was good. I didn’t need to be apart of it. I was shit at trying it anyway, message received.
My old oasis was just as I left it. Old books, old journals. Unburnt logs and then the dust of all the days left to rot and decay. This space had been so good to me and I neglected it like it was nothing, which hurt.
I laid on the bed and fiddled with my phone for a while. It was hot so I opened a window and breathed.
So much of life just wasn’t fair but I had to think about how I was healthy physically, I had clothes, I had options, I had food, I wouldn’t starve.
I took a book off of one of my book shelves and started to read. There was old whiskey in my nightstand and I drank some and then a little more. I texted my sometimes psychologist, sometimes friend, Vivi about how stupid I was. She was at some fancy Christmas luncheon and she said she wished she was with me to shake me and kiss my cheeks.
It made me happy but also sad because people always wished they were with me when they weren’t. And then they’d come and visit but they’d hang out with Avery or just throw me shade and call me a jerk. Not that I didn’t deserve that...
I thought about Ben and how we used to talk. He never made me feel like I was an idiot. There was never a darkness to how he thought about me. No negative side until maybe that time right after he’d been put in chains.
It was sick though, that I could still think that way about someone so mean to my only real love.
I cried a little, wept and tried to read through it. Frodo going back into the cave.
After a while I couldn’t take it. My throat hurt and I rolled over into my pillow and cried. It was like I realized that for once I was actually entirely alone. Avery wouldn’t know what I did. Avery wouldn’t have to see. Would it even be real then? Did it matter?
That free moment was spent crying until my voice was very hoarse.
I fell asleep and woke only when hands were on me and it was dark out but a fire was lit in the room.
“Hey, we made more cookies and they’re baking. Do you want to come have one or do you wanna stay here?” Avery asked, with a quiet voice. Her words were a little slurred.
“I’m okay,” I lied. Truth was, I didn’t want to bake cookies and I didn’t want to hurt her by pretending right now. She was mad at me for being a fake.
Still, the fire she had made warmed me. I was safe in this space, not entirely alone, not anymore.
My muscles ached, all the swimming I’d done and forgotten about.
I took a deep breath in and shut my eyes once more.
“I know you’re not,” she said.
She got up beside me and curled her body into mine, resting her head by mine.
“Hey, I love you,” she said, rubbing her forehead on my shoulder.
“I love you too,” I said, wondering what she’d spent the past few hours doing down there with my old attractive friend.
She kissed the top of my shoulder and I felt her teeth graze my skin.
“You’re so solemn and beautiful like this. It makes me want to crawl inside of you and feel everything,” she said.
“You have my permission,” I said, wondering what she actually meant. I still wasn’t over the way it all happened before, Natalie telling the truth about me and then Avery getting so upset…
I was a grouch who at least pretended not to be. How that was wrong at all, I couldn’t say. But for some reason I was labeled the villain.
“Cool, I’m all about consent,” she said.
She snugged closer to me so there was no space between us.
“Are you mad because I was too wrapped up in Christmas stuff?” She asked.
“Of course not,” I said, holding her loosely and wondering how I could possibly explain. It occurred to me she might be drunk, in which case, anything I could possibly say would be pointless. “I told you why I was mad,” I reminded.
“Because you think I don’t notice you trying to be perfect?” She asked.
“It’s more complicated than that,” I explained. It was always more complicated but she’d always choose one thing I said and make that the most important to her.
Nearly a year ago when we met she would’ve found nothing sexier than what I’d said about what I wanted to do for Christmas but now it was somewhat negative and just okay.
“Are you falling out of love with me?” I wondered dangerously. It would explain everything.
“Woah, of course not. I don’t even think that’s possible but you’re scaring me if you really think that. What made you ask that?”
“Just… Not knowing, I guess… You’re always chasing things and I’m not...”
“Not knowing? What do you not know? That I love you?”
“No,” I said. “Just not knowing what's going on in your head. What has to do with me. What doesn't…”
I tilted my head a little so I could try to see her face but the angle was hard.
My underwear had dried but I still smelled like chlorine.
Her arms and body pressed to my cold skin.
“Thanks for the fire,” I said. “And I do want cookies I'm just lazy and scared about making things sad. I heard you two laughing.”
“We always want you around. You're not going to make anything sad. Just come hang out with us and it'll be chill. No pressure, I swear,” she said. When her voice was low and calm like this it could so easily mend me.
“Okay,” I said, a bit skeptical.
I moved to sit up and pushed The Hobbit off of the bed. My hair was messy and my skin smelled of chlorine. I opened the side table
and found some scented lotion, putting it on.
“Nat probably got some more cookies out by now so it's kind of perfect timing,” she said.
Avery went about fixing my hair, smoothing the strands and running her fingers through to untangle bits.
“Good,” I said, turning and taking her hand in mine to stop her from fixing me. I leaned in and kissed her, tasting our truths on our tongues, my hand at her neck. Soft quiet kisses after our fights always broke me inside. I was still angry but I also knew that I'd said things I shouldn't. And I should've been honest. Sometimes I really sucked at saying sorry to her.
