by C J Marie
Olive slapped the yellow tag on her chest and drifted down the hallway. The rehab center smelled like gauze, steamed peas, and disinfectant. Millie would be discharging next month and Olive had to admit she was looking forward to having her out of the facility.
Millie sat in her recliner, the TV blasting a Spanish soap opera. Olive grinned, staring at the woman for a moment. Her spicy personality remained intact, but Millie seemed tired, and Olive hated seeing her down on her luck.
“Hi, Millie,” she chirped, painting her face in a pleasant grin.
“Ollie, how are you, sugar?” Millie responded. Her words were soft, and slow when she got tired. As Olive understood it, there would always be a slight speech deficit. Her brain could repair some of what was lost, but Millie would always have some marker noting the injury in her head. Olive took the daisy bouquet she’d brought last week out of the slender crystal vase. Tossing the wilting flowers, she replaced them with a cluster of wisteria, magnolias and lilies. Millie smiled. “Those are from the house?”
Olive nodded. “You always spent so much time in the garden, I thought you’d like a piece of your own.”
“You thought right.” Millie grunted softly as she leaned forward and patted the bed with her functional hand. “Sit and stay awhile.”
Olive pointed to the TV. “Learning a new language?”
Laughing, Millie nodded to the remote on her pillow. “I couldn’t reach it, and my knee is acting up today, so I didn’t try too hard. The therapists have been pushing me for the home stretch. Want to make sure I’ll be safe, or some nonsense like that.”
Olive clicked off the screen and sat across from Millie. “You’re not going to like this, but I’m glad they push you. We want you home, Mill.”
“I want to be home too, though I don’t know how living with Rafe is going to go—of course, I suppose you’ll be there now.” Millie smirked in her playful way, and it wrenched Olive’s stomach.
“Right,” she whispered, wringing her fingers.
“Ollie, I’m going to ask you something, and as a mother, I want the truth.”
Olive glanced at the woman she’d respected all her life. “Okay.”
“You care about my son, right?”
Olive gnawed on the inside of her cheek. “Yes, Millie,” she gasped. Olive cared a great deal.
Millie smiled, and it was nearly straight. She rubbed her limp fingers, but slowly Olive took over the massage without a word spoken about it between them. “That’s good. You feel good with Rafe? He shows you how you deserve to be treated?”
Olive smirked. “Rafe’s always treated me right, Millie, you know that.”
“How does he make you feel though, sweetie pie? It soothes a mother’s heart, you see, to know her child is happy with the woman he’s meant to be with. Humor me and spill.”
Olive chuckled through the sting of tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. She should be honest with Millie, but her sparkling eyes locked Olive’s tongue. She cleared the knot budding in her airway and whispered to keep her voice in check. On this question, Olive could answer honestly. Even if it broke her heart to know it would never be. “Rafe makes me feel,” she paused, rubbing Millie’s palm now. “Powerful. In my own skin, I mean. He… talks softly, even if he’s mad, or setting me straight. We have a similar sense of humor, and he’s one person I can laugh at nothing with. Rafe makes me feel… like he’ll be there to protect me, but at the same time, he believes in my own ability to save myself and walk on my own two feet. Not everyone believes a woman like me should have opinions or high aspirations that don’t fit the mold.”
Millie’s glassy eyes pooled with crystal tears. Her good hand patted the top of Olive’s. “If you feel all that why the long face, sweetheart?”
Olive tried to smiled, but what was the point? Millie could spot a fake grin a mile away. “There are those who… don’t think we’re suited.” She was careful to pick her next words so Millie didn’t catch on her son didn’t truly have a fiancé. “Sometimes I think it gets to Rafe—like he believes what they say, and he’s not good enough. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really the one he’ll want down the line, or if he’ll always have this impossible bar he tries to reach with me.”
“Have you told him this?”
Olive dropped her gaze. “Not directly, I suppose.”
“In my life, I’ve learned that keeping things inside doesn’t serve anyone. Especially those we love.”
Olive’s breath caught. Did she love Rafe? She loved all three Whitfields, but Rafe sent her spirit soaring in a breathless, intoxicating way. She smirked and poured some water into the vase. “What if we’re too different, Millie?”
“Different is good,” Millie insisted. “You might have different backgrounds, different aspirations, different temperaments, but at the core, you two are so similar I’ve never seen such a match.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ollie, whether you knew it or not, you never allowed prejudices to creep into your heart. You loved us, me and August included, no matter what. It’s the same reason you teach little minds, because it’s a passion—despite the forces out there trying to convince you of your place.” Millie leaned her head back against the chair, her eyes unblinking as she spoke. “In a way, Rafe has done the same. Despite being rejected by others, it never changed his opinion of you. I know my son, and I’ve never seen him light up more than when he’s with you. I’ve seen that since y’all were kids. He might try to tell himself you deserve better, but if you let him know that’s a bunch of sewer sludge, I think you’re the woman to make my son the happiest man in Honeyville. I believe that, have for a long while.”
Olive beamed. “You have? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m a believer of letting people figure out their own hearts. Don’t worry, if you two knuckle-heads took much longer I’d have something to say—busted up and all.”
Olive returned to her place on the bed and stared at Millie for a pause. “I wish everyone agreed with you.”
With a sigh, Millie nodded. “I suppose it’s up to the two of you to decide if you’re going to listen to the noise, or simply be. It would be a shame to let something go because someone else thought they knew better.”
Olive sniffed and wiped a stinging tear away. With a smile she hugged, Millie. “You still always know what to say.” Millie Whitfield spoke to Olive’s heart, addressing real feelings Olive was too scared to admit herself. Even if Millie didn’t believe Olive was already engaged to Rafe, she still said exactly what Olive needed.
“I just say it how I see it, sugar.”
5 years ago
Olive trudged up the pathway. Her white sneakers sunk in the grass, soaked from the first decent summer rain earlier. School was excused for the next ten weeks—she was going to Greece in two, yet her shoulders curled forward, burdened with a bleak shroud of sadness. She would be a senior next fall, which meant others had graduated today. Others were leaving.
As if fate intended to play more cruel stunts on her burdened heart, Olive’s ears perked at the sound of laughter on the side of the garage. Her face drooped as she took in the large group of laughing new graduates. The fire pit was surrounded as they whooped and hollered with each other—she was certain her mama wouldn’t be pleased, but daddy had given permission. There was Zac, next to a giggly girl she didn’t know. The only girl she knew was Lily, and she broke Olive’s heart too. Since Lily had been living in the Big House for the last seven months she’d become like a sister, and soon she’d be leaving like the rest.
The others were strangers to Olive. More proof to what everyone at her school pounded in her head—she was born of a different world. No matter how badly she wished to laugh and tease with them around the campfire, she’d never be considered one of them.
It wasn’t only Beau who felt that way. With a few exceptions, some people around the pit wouldn’t be keen to have a Cutler joining in their fun.
Olive veered in
a different direction, hoping to avoid facing the change the summer would bring. She shouldn’t have expected to be so lucky.
“Ollie,” Rafe’s booming voice called out. She glanced over her shoulder. He was on his feet, waving for her to come over. Olive smiled, though it faded when she saw June and Elle next to him on the bench mutter to each other and nod in her direction. She’d only met them once before, but they’d turned up their noses at her then too.
Olive waved. “I’m heading in. Have a good time.”
“Come on over, Ollie,” Lily added, peeking her head around Rafe. Olive couldn’t even see August, but Lily’s hand was surely locked in his. Now a nameless boy was involved in the muttering of the other girls.
“Come on, princess,” Rafe chuckled. “Come sit with us.”
Olive flushed, quite certain some of his friends would take the meaning of princess wrong. Swallowing hard, Olive straightened her shoulders and marched toward the fire. She smiled pleasantly. “Congratulations on graduating y’all.”
“It’ll come soon enough, Lolli-pop.” There was August, leaning back, cuddled in tight with Lily.
“Sit down,” Rafe said, his eyes bright with the excitement of the night. “We didn’t get to see much of you after the ceremony.”
“Oh, I—”
“Because we had to get to partying, Rafe,” June said, slinging her arm around his shoulders once he sat down again.
“Surprising to have a Cutler at the commencement anyway,” the boy near the gossipy girls added.
Olive scoffed, but Rafe answered before she had a chance. “Not sure what that means, Heath, but Olive can sit with us whenever she pleases.”
“Sit, Ollie. Ignore Heath, he was dropped as a boy.” Zac nodded to the bench.
“I don’t want to interrupt,” Olive said, meeting June’s eyes, but relaxing when Heath slugged Zac’s shoulder and seemed to care little if Olive joined or not.
“Come on, sit your butt down,” Rafe laughed, unbothered or unaware at the dagger eyes locked on Olive.
Perhaps Rafe didn’t feel as affectionate toward June as she thought (one could hope) because he scooted away from the blonde and patted the space next to him on the bench. Well, now Olive had to sit, if only to take a little more petty pleasure in June’s jealousy.
“I’ll only stay for a little while,” she conceded, nestling next to Rafe.
“Busy morning tomorrow?” June sneered.
“A bit,” Olive replied.
“Salons, manicures, or is it pedicures, then lunch at the club?” she asked, her voice low so Rafe didn’t hear over his conversation with Lily.
“June, be polite. This is Olive’s home,” Lily demanded, her eyes filled with sympathy when she mouthed a sorry toward Olive. She couldn’t be surprised, Rafe and August had tolerated similar disdain from her own cousin, but still, the biting dislike spewing from June hurt.
Olive’s attention was drawn away from the icy aura when Lily clapped her hands and beamed. “Did I tell y’all? I got into LSU.”
Olive gaped. “What? You didn’t say anything. It’s really happening? Louisiana?”
Lily squealed and nodded.
“How are you going to survive, August?” Zac taunted.
“What are you talking about—I’m going with her? Just as much work there as here.”
Rafe glanced at Olive and nodded the truth of it. Her smile fell. August wasn’t just leaving the house—he was leaving the state. Where would Rafe go?
“You’re both leaving?” she whined, glancing between the couple. “This place isn’t going to feel the same at all.”
“We’ll come visit, Ollie,” August assured.
“Aug will go to school when I’m done—at least that’s the plan,” Lily explained. “Hopefully, I get a job and pay his way.”
“I thought you’d be working at the shop with me and Rafe,” Zac said.
August shrugged and kissed Lily’s forehead. “Sorry, I’d take her over you morons any day.”
“The shop? What happened to engineering?” Olive asked Rafe.
“Earning money is more important right now, Ol,” he muttered.
“But you’re still planning on going to school, right?”
June must have overheard the conversation because she groaned. “Not everyone goes to college, you know. Some people don’t have a trust fund to support a beautiful, planned-out, road to success.”
It was as if Olive had a punch to the gut. Her neck riled in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure,” June muttered.
“Hey, get off her, June,” Rafe snapped.
“I’m not on anyone,” June said. “No offense, sweetie, but you’ve probably got post-graduation all planned with an education fund ready to use. Where are you wanting to go to school? Yale? Stanford? Columbia? What do your parents want you to study? Law, or medical?”
Olive glared at the fire, and Rafe’s fist balled, but Lily was the one who spoke. “June you’re being unkind, and frankly, judgmental.”
“She’s judging Rafe for working instead of going to school.”
Olive shot to her feet. “I wasn’t judging. You know nothing about me. I was merely asking my friend, whom I’ve known since I was two, a question. Mylanta,” Olive huffed and stalked around the benches. “Sorry, but I’m suddenly tired. Have a great evening. Stay as long as you’d like. Oh, and June—look out for snakes. You haven’t been up here before. We’re stacked with them.”
Olive heard Lily call her back. Zac chastised June, but it was Rafe’s voice that made her smile. “You’re as bad as the ones who think we’re trash, June. For your information, Olive wants to be a teacher.”
“And there he goes, like always,” August chuckled, though Olive still hadn’t turned around she could hear footsteps coming up fast behind her.
“Ollie, wait,” Rafe called out. “Don’t go inside.”
“I’m fine, Rafe. I don’t want to dampen anyone’s graduation night.”
“You weren’t dampening anything. Though, lying about snakes wasn’t kind to Arnie. He’d die of shame if he heard you telling people his lawn was overrun.” Olive scoffed, but she wasn’t ashamed at her little white lie since June’s eyes widened in disgust. Rafe took a step closer. “I’m not saying we need to go back there.”
“What are you doing?”
He furrowed his brow and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m coming with you. What do you feel like doing?”
“Rafe, don’t ditch your friends.”
“I didn’t think I was,” he muttered. “I thought I was choosing one.”
Olive grinned. “You want to hang out with me tonight, some ignorant, rich girl?”
“That’s what I said, right? But I don’t see anyone ignorant standing in front of me. Now what should we do?” She offered a coy grin, and Rafe chuckled. “I’ll go get my keys. The beach it is.”
Chapter 10
Rafe splashed water over his face from the wide sink in the back of the shop. His fingernails were soaked with grease and his shoulders ached from hunching most of the day. Working wasn’t a problem. Rafe enjoyed getting his hands dirty, but when Zac announced the shop was closing early that day, Rafe couldn’t say he was disappointed.
“You know how long it’s been since I’ve met a mother?” Zac grumbled, stacking receipts on the front desk. “I don’t even know what to say. What if she asks what my intentions are? Do parents still do that?”
Rafe laughed. “Are you sure you want to meet a mother?” He flicked Zac’s hairless chin. It had been at least three years since Rafe had seen his friend’s bare cheeks. Zac looked eighteen without his beard. “You brought Krista to the Cutler’s, but this isn’t her family you’re meeting, right?”
“Shut up,” Zac scoffed. “I like Callie.”
“Callie, that’s right.” Rafe rolled his eyes when Zac raised his middle finger. “What’s with the baby face?”
Zac rubbed his strong chin and shrugged.
“I don’t know, Callie made a comment she likes clean-shaven men.”
“Wow, she must be something if she got Zac Dawson to shave his face.”
“You know what, when you’re sitting at our wedding you won’t have such a smug face.” Zac shuddered and grimaced. “That left a bad taste in my mouth. Weddings and all that. Speaking of weddings, what happened to your bride-to-be? I haven’t seen Olive around lately.”
Rafe sighed. “We’re about the same as we were before. She’s busy, I’m busy.” The truth was more like Rafe didn’t trust himself around Olive anymore.
“That girl has guts, kissing you right in front of her mama. Although, seeing Beau get put in his place, I’d pay to watch that again. What?” Zac pressed when Rafe glanced at the desk, tapping the end of a pencil. “Great, what happened?”
“Nothing, happened,” Rafe insisted.
Zac shook his head. “Sure, now I really believe you. What did you do?”
Rafe scowled, following Zac to the front parking lot where their two trucks were waiting. “I might have let things spin out of control out by the creek.”
Zac’s eyes widened. “Rafe, did you sleep with Olive?”
“What? No. Outside? Come on, idiot, I wouldn’t do that. We made-out.”
Zac offered an approving smirk. “What’s the problem then?”
Rafe leaned against his truck, raking a hand through his sweaty hair. “I don’t know why, but I hinted that we were meant to be friends, you know, that we weren’t good together.”
Zac groaned and scrubbed his face. “Let me guess, because she’s a Cutler and you’re not good enough.”
“You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean we have to toe the line pompous, morons created years ago.”
“I don’t get you, man. When I mentioned our arrangement, you told me Olive wasn’t part of our world. Didn’t you tell me to be careful?”
Zac held up his hands in a truce. “I did say that, you’re right. It’s what I thought, until I saw Olive stick it to her own family for you. She wasn’t just telling Beau to shut up, Rafe. She was letting him know where you stood in her eyes. I figure if Olive can break the norm, it’s about time we all did.”
