by C J Marie
Dot scoffed, scooping at the last of her ice cream. “I think you know. This has been amazingly relaxing, coming down here every day, binging on tea and ice cream, I suppose I’m wondering when you’re going to let go of some pride and call the man.”
“I don’t want to talk about Rafe.”
“And I didn’t want to talk about Sawyer, but I’ve told you everything. Even when he called me up two days ago. I didn’t want to talk about that, but I did.”
“You told me yourself it was a good phone call.”
“It was,” Dot insisted. “And I hate him even more because I wish he’d just be mean and nasty, not so sweet about all this.”
Olive chuckled, even Dot grinned and leaned back against her own chair. “I can’t explain what happened when I saw Dalia kissing him, Dot. It’s like something broke inside.”
“You know it was all her, Ollie.”
Olive relented and nodded. “I know, but she didn’t force him to say our relationship wasn’t a good idea. How ironic is it the instant I muster my courage and admit I’m lost in love, I stalk outside and catch him downplaying everything like it’s some trashy, summer fling?”
“Ollie, you’ve known Rafe longer than anyone, you honestly think he’d intentionally hurt you?”
Olive swallowed the sick in the back of her throat. Her arms had been empty for over a week, and she’d craved Rafe Whitfield to the point of insanity. Slowly, she shook her head. “No, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I don’t think he would intentionally. That’s what hurts more, though, Dot. Things he’s told me weren’t true if he thought us being together wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he wanted them to be true, like he was trying to convince himself, but I suppose he couldn’t shake our differences. We’ll be friends again, I know it. I’m just not ready to talk to him.”
Dot swallowed and drummed the table slowly. “But you love him, Ollie. I might have been someone who’d tell you never to be with Rafe, but now—I hurt more knowing you might let him go than I do about Sawyer sometimes. You’re that annoyingly good for each other.”
Olive squeezed her eyes tight. “I do love him,” she admitted. “But no matter how much you love someone, if they don’t see a relationship the same, it won’t work.”
Dot shook her head. “I don’t know, I think you should talk to him.”
“I will,” Olive whispered. “After graduation. Maybe.”
Olive was grateful when her phone rang to distract the conversation. Even if the caller screamed Rafe Whitfield memories. She smiled and answered. “Hi, Jace.”
“Hey,” Jace chirped. “So, Dot let on that you might be needing some cheering up.”
“Oh, Dot did, huh?” Olive said through a lifted brow. Dot only flushed and tossed her ice cream in the trash. “I didn’t know you two were close.”
Jace chuckled. “We’ve talked through the week. You’re right she is a lunatic in the best way. You and I don’t know each other well, but I’d like to keep being friends. Dot mentioned you like the beach, so I was wondering if you’d want to meet at the battery. I have something I think will really cheer you up.”
Olive smiled. “You must have read my mind. I’m at the battery now. We’re at Sweets.”
“Really? I’m not far.”
“We’re finished here, we’ll meet you out on the street.”
“Perfect! See you soon.”
Olive chuckled ending the call and peering at Dot. “Friends with Jace now?”
She shrugged. “She’s sweet and funny. Sort of a spitfire too. Our kind of girl, even if she’s Rafe’s cousin, we can still buddy up don’t you think?”
Olive nodded. “Yes. Come on she says she has something to cheer me up.”
“Probably Rafe on one knee.”
Olive snorted. “I don’t think she’d get his stubborn butt to make another move, and I don’t think she’d interfere that much.”
At least Olive hoped not. Seeing Rafe would shatter her glass heart all over again. He’d called. She had his voicemail—all it asked was for her to call back. No I love you, no I’m sorry. Then he’d called once more when she was meeting with her school counselors. Again, nothing more than his name on her screen.
Olive had the sinking feeling his lack of interest in their broken trust was more proof it hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to her. Never mind she was mortified to face her mother. Bernadette hadn’t said a degrading word. She’d even slipped into Olive’s conversation with her father four days ago. Lon Cutler didn’t interfere much, but he’d wanted the entire scoop on what had happened with Rafe Whitfield. Olive smiled, remembering how her mother had squeezed her shoulder before leaving the room. Still, Olive had hinted Rafe planned to marry her, only to leave the same day brokenhearted. It was embarrassing and soul-crushing.
They waited for a few minutes before Olive heard Jace call her name.
“Hi, Jace,” Olive smiled, but stopped when a familiar face beamed around the corner. Olive shrieked and squealed like a toddler on Christmas Day before shoving past Dot and Jace and flinging her arms around his neck. “Auggie! Oh, my goodness, it’s so good to see you.”
August Whitfield tugged his arms around her waist tight, but still allowed her freedom to bounce about. “Hi, Lolli-pop.” August chuckled, pulled back, and grinned. “It’s good to see you too.”
Olive wiped a tear before shrieking again and scooping Lily into a tight embrace. They laughed as though they’d never been apart, but soon Olive released them both and bent over the black stroller. She pulled away the blanket shielding the sun and sighed. “Oh goodness—she’s beautiful. Y’all know I’m going to hold her this instant no matter what you say.” Lily and August laughed as Olive dug into the carrier and scooped the blue-eyed baby into her arms. Olive clutched her little head and bounced, kissing her cheeks and tapping the big-bow on her headband. “I’m in love.” Olive kissed the baby’s head. “That’s right, beautiful, I love you.”
Jace beamed. “I told you I’d cheer you up.”
Olive chuckled, awkwardly glancing at August who smirked. Knowing August was likely aware of a few details between her and his brother heated her cheeks. She tried to shrug it off, but it seemed August could sense her discomfort and his mischievous grin was in place as it always had been. “You’re right,” she said toward Jace. “I’m officially cheered up. Glad you finally met Auggie.”
Jace smiled. “It’s good to meet everyone. My brother is coming down next week to join in the fun. I think y’all will get along with him,” Jace said more toward August and Lily.
Olive held her breath when she noticed behind August a few paces, Millie was standing with her cane. In all her baby excitement, Olive hadn’t even noticed Rafe’s mother. Of course, and thankfully, there was no sign of the last Whitfield.
“Hi, Millie,” Olive breathed, thankful her second mother grinned.
Millie drifted toward a bench and patted the place next to her. Olive swallowed and clung to baby Brin. August and Lily turned away, speaking with Jace and Dot. It was Olive’s cue to go and speak with Millie Whitfield.
“How are you doing, sweetie-pie?”
“I’m okay, Mill.”
“Come on, sugar,” Millie said, tilting her head, and rubbing the baby’s little toes. “We were always able to talk about heartache before.”
Olive closed her eyes, her heart thudding in the back of her throat. “That was before it was a heartache with your son.” She didn’t know what Rafe had said, but Olive wasn’t going to keep anything in the shadows any longer. “Millie, we weren’t engaged. I don’t know if Rafe told you, but it wasn’t real.”
To her astonishment, Millie laughed and rubbed her hand along Olive’s back. “Oh, Ollie I know. I knew the entire time.”
Olive furrowed her brow. “What? You gave me… your mother’s ring.” Which she still had in her apartment.
“Olive,” Millie said. “I understand what doctors tell me. I understand all my instructions from my therapists, yo
u think I couldn’t gather when you two fools came in to tell me you weren’t really engaged. I know your mama paid Rafe the day that Abernathy boy lost your trust. I know it all because your mama cleared it with me the day after she asked him. Wanted to be respectful and all that.”
Olive rocked Brin back and forth, the sting of tears welling behind her eyes. Millie had known. Even stranger, her mother had connected with Millie about the arrangement. Olive hadn’t known Bernadette had visited Millie or spoken to her since the stroke. It warmed her perception of her strait-laced mother. Peering at Millie, Olive whispered, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because, it was the nudge I thought you two needed, sweetheart. I was right, wasn’t I? Turned out y’all weren’t pretending after all.”
“Millie, you know… you know what happened, right?”
“Again, Ollie, I had a stroke. I didn’t lose my eyesight. I had words with my son yesterday, and I told him the same thing I’m going to tell you. Are you willing to let it all go over one bump in the road?”
Olive’s chin trembled, and she took solace in keeping Brin’s small head tucked under her chin. “I can’t be with Rafe if he’s going to hold my last name over our relationship all the time.” Olive straightened her shoulders. “I love him, Mill. I never lied about that, but I can’t convince him to be with me if he doesn’t think we belong together.”
Millie patted her knee. “I know sweetie. Men can be fickle, can’t they? I want you to know, Ollie, you’re a daughter to me. Always have been, always will be. We all love you—and I know my boy is smitten even if his head is lost where the sun don’t shine. You should also know I’m praying both of you, or one of you, will smarten up and break through some pride and not throw something real away. You give that some thought.”
Olive grinned, brushing back Brin’s feathery hair. “I will, Millie. I promise.”
Being with Rafe meant everything to her. The more time that went by without hearing his voice, Olive was starting to believe he was content to be through with her for good. And that thought brought the hot, dripping tear from her eye and splashing on her cheek.
Chapter 21
Zac locked the door to the shop and handed Rafe a brochure.
“What’s this?” Rafe asked.
“Some lady stopped by with information about trade programs and scholarships for us. Thought I’d show it to you.”
“Why?”
Zac scoffed. “Because you’re the one who always talked about school. There’s an engineering technology certificate, look there.”
Rafe followed Zac’s finger to the description of the program. “I like working here, Zac.”
He rolled his eyes, scrubbing his now thick beard. “And I expect you to stay, the program takes four years, man. But a lot of the courses are at night. You always talked about building things. According to the lady this is hands on.”
“Why don’t you go?”
Zac scoffed. “I make plenty of money owning this place and I have no desire to go back to school.”
Rafe studied the document, feeling a twinge of intrigue build like a slow burn in the pit of his stomach. Eventually he shook his head and tried to hand it back to Zac. “Takes money to go to school.”
Zac pushed it back as he slipped into his truck. “Yeah, it does. Somehow people without money find a way. There are programs to help, Rafe. August is going to school and they aren’t rolling in money and they have a kid. Think about it, that’s all.”
“You sound like…”
“Olive,” Zac finished. Zac was on Rafe’s side, but still it seemed as though his friend had an opinion on the relationship with Olive Cutler he wasn’t spilling. “Well, she’s not the only one who thinks you can do things you don’t believe you can. I’ll see you on Friday. Your place right?”
Rafe nodded. “Barbecue. Lily’s frying up a few things. Apparently she thinks Louisiana does fried food better.”
Zac made a noise in disgust. “What’s she talking about? We’ll see about that. Anyway, have a good week off, man.”
Rafe waved, tossing the brochure onto the passenger seat in his truck before heading home, feeling the burden of the last week weighing on his shoulders like a crushing stone. Adding school was tempting, yet overwhelming and the first person he wanted to ask an opinion was Olive. But she wasn’t there.
Everyone must’ve still been at the beach by the time Rafe got back home. He’d taken the rest of the week off for August’s visit, but he needed to work a few days to keep his refrigerator stocked. His paycheck from the Cutler Estate had been massive since the five payments from Bernadette were added in, but all that was the entire family’s money in Rafe’s opinion. Spending it made him sick, so he turned it over to paying off medical supplies and offering the rest to August to help with a down payment on a place whenever they found one.
The house was empty, but with signs that it would be full when everyone gathered. He smiled at the bottles and binkies along his counter. Something about his baby niece being around kept the gloom from overtaking too much. Rafe slipped into the shower, scrubbing the grime of the shop off his body. He was deciding if he should whip something simple together when everyone got back, or get pizza when a knock pounded on his door.
Rafe brushed his hand through his thick hair to free the ends of dripping water. His breath caught in the back of his throat when he opened the door and was face to face with Lon Cutler.
“Hi, Rafe,” Lon said. It was one of the few times Rafe had seen the man dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Even if Lon wasn’t in a suit, he was usually business casual and important looking. The only thing that put him apart from Rafe now was the thousand dollar watch on his wrist.
“Sir,” Rafe muttered. “Good to see you.”
Lon’s lips curled into a knowing half-smile. “I was hoping I might come in and have a word.”
Rafe swallowed hard. A man he’d respected his entire life was preparing to rip his throat out, there was no other explanation for him being on his porch. Better to face it now before everyone showed up to witness the slaughter. With a nod, Rafe opened the door wide. “Sure, come on in.”
Lon took in the front room, smirking when he pointed at the small box of baby toys. Rafe flushed. “August is in town.”
“That’s right. Lily sent us word they were coming about now.” Lon smiled. “I’ll make a point to see that baby then.”
“Can I get you anything?”
Lon shook his head, settling on the couch Olive had helped Rafe pick out almost two years earlier. “No, I’m just fine, son. I suspect you know why I’m here.”
Rafe wiped his clammy hands along his jeans and sat stiff and attentive on the opposite sofa so he faced Lon. “I imagine it has something to do with the shower.”
Lon shot him with his fingers and smiled. “Right on the mark. I’ve come to get your side of things. When I sit with my daughter and see tears in her eyes while she confesses she’s in love with a man—well, that leaves me, as a father, confused where it all fell apart. I’m not one to get involved, but it’s different with you, Rafe. We’ve known each other too long.”
Rafe leaned forward on his knees, studying the floor for a long pause. Olive had told both her parents, and the guilt only pricked deeper through his heart. “I apologize for upsetting your family. I respect you, and I never meant to cause any problems for anyone.”
Lon had a young face, though his brown hair was peppered on the edges. He was kind, but there were times he could hold your attention with a single look. “I’m going to be blunt with you, Rafe. I assume we share a mutual respect for me to do so?” Rafe nodded, clenching every muscle preparing for the lashing. “Right. Now, Olive was a bit tight-lipped on details, all she mentioned was you didn’t see the two of you working out. I’d like to know what changed?”
Rafe furrowed his brow, his words a jumbled mess in his mouth. Call him crazy, but it almost sounded like Lon Cutler was disappointed it ended—not relieved. “Sir, noth
ing changed in how I feel.”
Lon listened and nodded. “As I said, if that’s true, I’m left wondering what would happen to get you to walk away.”
Rafe scoffed, feeling his body relax slightly. “I’m not a man who can give Olive the life she’s known.”
Lon frowned and leaned forward stern enough Rafe stopped talking. “Now, I know you’re not going to tell me you broke my daughter’s heart because of your paycheck. Because I know you’re more of a man than that.”
Rafe raked his hand through his hair and his knee bounced without control. “Mr. Cutler—”
“Lon, son. Call me, Lon.”
Rafe nodded. “Lon, now I’ll be blunt. Am I the type of guy you want with your daughter?”
His face softened as Lon leaned back on the cushions. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but I wasn’t running after Tom Abernathy when he hurt Ollie to get his side of things, now was I? Listen, I don’t pretend to know what sort of things you’ve been told in your life, Rafe. We tried to treat everyone like friends—I know Bernie seems stiff sometimes—she loves everyone at the house, but simply has her own upbringing to overcome. You and your family are people we care about, Rafe. Your daddy is scum, if you don’t mind me saying. After your mama came to us looking for work, I always hoped we’d make you and August feel accepted. So, if we—me in particular—ever gave you the impression I thought less of you because of where you come from, then shame on me.”
Rafe was stunned, and he stared at Lon through a drawn silence that gathered perspiration over his brow. “I never felt disrespected by you, sir.”
“Good, and from what I’ve seen since y’all were tiny, I don’t expect Olive ever made you feel less than the most important guy in her life.”
Rafe lowered his gaze along with his voice. “Lon, I won’t ever have what the Abernathy’s have to care for Olive.” Perhaps the words were a test, to see if he could gauge Lon’s true feelings. The sort of feelings people like Tom and Beau had spat his entire life. Lon’s indifference to his circumstances burned a new determined fire inside his heart. Rafe held onto the fury, sensing his anger at those who stood between him and Olive, his anger at ignorance, but also anger at himself for being a weak man for Olive. She deserved better—and he wanted to prove it to her more than ever.
