by Emily Childs
Everything is spiraling and slipping through my fingertips. I try to keep my head, try to keep cool, but watching her walk away again puts me on a desperate edge, like a feral cat lashing out from habit. My voice comes sharp and deep. “You say all that, Olive, but what about you?”
“What about me?” she shouts over her shoulder as she fights to open her car door.
“You talk about me being the man you want, you say it, but you haven’t told your parents the truth. Why haven’t you told them we’re dating, Ollie? Admit it. There’s a piece of you that might agree we’re not a perfect match.”
Oh, if I could take back the words. She faces me, tears on her beautiful cheeks. Each drop breaks me piece by piece. She holds her hand out for her keys still in my pocket since I drove. I shake my head. Olive doesn’t ask before she shoves her hand into my pocket, struggling with me, until she gets them free.
“It was my job to love you, Rafe,” she whispers. “I suppose I didn’t do it well enough because there isn’t a pinch of me that doesn’t believe you’re any less than my perfect match. It’s not my job to convince you of your worth, though. Only you can do that.”
I panic when she slips behind the wheel. I promised long ago I’d never make Olive Cutler cry, but there is more agony in her eyes now than I’ve seen before.
“Ol, don’t leave,” I beg. “I want you. I’m sorry for spouting off, and I shouldn’t have.”
She grips the steering wheel and stares blankly ahead. “Sometimes when we’re spouting off true feelings come out.”
“Olive . . .”
“You’re right about something, Rafe,” she says, her voice haunting. “I didn’t tell my parents we were dating. I told my mother more. I just told her I’m in love with you. Funny how things take nasty twists and turns.”
I grip the edge of the window. “Olive, don’t go. Stay with me.”
Olive puts the car in gear. “I’m tired of my heart breaking. I never thought I’d see you as a coward, but you are. If you let others dictate who you love, then you’re a coward. I used to be one too, but I thought we were worth it to brave up.”
Each word carves a mark of shame down my spine.
She clears her throat and starts to pull down the drive. “I expect you can find a ride with Dalia.”
I step back before I get caught underneath a tire, my hands rake through my hair. I curse loudly; I’m spinning, I’m out of control. I’m ruined.
“Rafe,” Zac calls out. I groan. Dot, Jace, and Zac are all running to the driveway, casting suspicious glances at Dalia who is still standing on the lawn.
“What’s going on?” Zac asks. “What’s Dalia doing here?”
“Beau called her,” I murmur.
“Where’s Olive going?” Dot asks. “What happened?”
“I screwed up.”
And at that Dot pounces. “What are you talking about, Rafe Whitfield? What did you do? I swear it, if you stepped out on Olive, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”
I close my eyes. “I didn’t step out.”
“Except when you kissed me,” Dalia chirps in the driveway. “This is a good thing, Rafe. It wouldn’t have worked out and you know it.”
“Would you leave?” I say, glaring at her. “Leave, Dalia. I don’t want to see you. Ever.”
“The fantasy is over, Rafe,” she says. “Come back to reality. Although, if you take much longer, then I won’t be around when you come to your senses.”
Zac folds his arms once Dalia is gone. “What happened, man?”
I feel bile in the back of my throat as I crouch, afraid I might vomit. “Dalia kissed me, Olive saw.”
“Well, if the woman accosted you, then Olive will understand,” Jace offers.
I shake my head. “There’s more. She heard me say I wasn’t a good choice for her, but I didn’t get to finish before she got upset. Then I got upset. I accused her of hiding it from her parents only to find out she’d just spoken with her mother! Gah! She called me a coward, and she’s right.”
No one says a word. No one tells me it’s fine, it’s not as bad as I think. Dot even pinches her lips and fiddles with a ring on her finger. Every breath aches. I start to pace.
“You can ride back with me,” Zac says. “Come on, you’ll figure it out, man, but let’s go. You’re starting to look insane.”
“I messed it up, Zac.”
“Rafe, don’t say that,” Dot says softly. “Olive is part of your history, and if I hadn’t seen y’all with my own eyes, I’d never admit you belong together, but you do. I’ll lose any respect I have for you if you give up.”
“Dot,” I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I can’t think about giving up now. I can’t think that I finally pushed Olive away for good. “I can’t go back in there right now. Would you . . . speak to Mrs. Cutler?”
Dot pats the side of Zac’s truck once we’re inside. “Don’t worry about the Cutlers, Jace and I can handle a boring party.”
Jace smiles and squeezes my arm through the passenger window. “We’ll let them know you’ve both gone.”
“Thank you.” It’s all I can manage.
Zac peels down the lane, and I close my eyes. I don’t say a word. If I do, then I think I might snap in half. I’ve never seen that shadow in Olive’s eyes before. What hurts the most is the way she stared at me with longing, like I was this thing she couldn’t have, and that’s when it hits me. The shadow, it’s the thing that burdens a lover when they’re saying goodbye.
Chapter 27
Rafe
I’m intentionally avoiding the scathing looks my mom keeps shooting at me. She’s been doing it for days now. Today we should be celebrating the good news from her Neurologist, movement is increasing in her left hand, but we’re silent.
She doesn’t even let me help her out of the truck. Doesn’t say a word as she steps into the house.
I toss my keys into the bowl on the counter, rip open the fridge, nurse a beer, then plop into a chair at the kitchen table. Mama stomps as best she can and gets herself a sweet tea.
“Mama, you don’t need to keep scowling at me,” I say. “I’m sorry it upset you that things didn’t work out.”
She huffs, and after struggling to open the bottle of tea, reluctantly hands it to me to help.
“Why don’t you say what you’re thinking,” I tell her. “Then we can move on from all this.”
She glares at me over her shoulder. “I’m going to get ready to meet my grandbaby for the first time thank you very much. I don’t need to be pointing out the stupidity of my youngest son.”
I glance at the clock. August and Lily would be here any minute, but I don’t want all this moping about when we meet little Brin. I don’t want to think how Olive should be here for this too.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Let’s get it out there, and then we’ll all put on our smiles.” I follow her down the hallway. “You know I’ve tried to call Olive. She’s not taking my phone calls.”
“Well, aren’t you a regular knight in shining armor?”
I wince. My mom sits on the edge of her bed and spritzes some perfume onto her neck. I don’t like coming into the bedroom. It’s covered in Olive’s touch and the ache is still raw, still festering since she drove away.
I lean against the doorjamb. “What do you want me to do? I can’t force the woman to talk to me.”
“Bless your heart, son. If I need to tell you that your efforts have been weak, then I’m not sure I want Ollie talking to you, anyway.”
“Mama, maybe this is the way it should be.” Those words are the same ones I’ve repeated to myself for a week. A week since Olive has spoken to me. A week since I’ve felt her lips on mine. A week since becoming a dry, cynical, well of a man. “Odds are it wasn’t going to work, and I’d never want her to regret anything.”
My mom shakes her head and stares at me in the mirror. “If that’s what you believe, I’m officially disappointed in you.”
“
I’ll respect what she wants and talking to me right now isn’t what she wants.”
She turns to the closet to change her clothes. “You know, son, I understand you tried. Six days ago. You only called her twice. For a woman you professed to love, that seems mighty lame. Are you really going to walk away? From Ollie?”
I shift, picking at my thumbnail. “As I said, maybe it’s for the best.” Not true. I don’t believe a word of it, but thinking any different is like acid to my heart.
“Well, then. There’s not much more to say about the subject.” My mom’s lips are a bloodless line. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to change.”
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Disappointing my mother makes me squirm. She was never one to hit or scream through discipline. Millie Whitfield simply had a look that could set me and August straight. She’s doing it now.
“I’m sorry, Rafe, but I never thought there’d come a day when you reminded me of your daddy.”
I choke on a dry swallow. “You don’t mean that.”
She seems ready to cry. Her chin trembles. “I raised you boys to work hard, to stand for what you believed, but I also raised you to fight for the things you wanted. I tried my best to get you and Auggie to see past the ridiculous way people like your father viewed people like me. We didn’t have much money, true, but I never stopped trying to instill the drive to reach for what you and August wanted.
“I know what that woman means to you, have for years, and to see you toss her aside so easily because she’s angry and won’t answer her phone—” Mama shakes her head. “Well, that’s what a walkaway man does. I didn’t raise you to walk away when the going gets tough, Rafe. If the man who was meant to love me unconditionally gave up so easily, then I don’t suppose I’d answer his calls either. You hurt her, son. She sees you; I see you. We all do. I wish you’d start believing money doesn’t make the man. I really wish you would.”
A car door slams outside and her eyes lighten. My mom wipes away a tear and leans over to peek out the window.
“They’re here,” I say softly.
“I’ve got to get dressed,” she says. “I love you, son. You and August light up my life. I hope you’ll think about things I’ve said.”
The truth is I’d crawl to the ends of the earth for Olive, and that’s what hurts the deepest. I thought I had tried to reach out, but she won’t let me. Like she’s washed her hands of me.
“Rafe! Mama!” August calls out. “Get on out here! There’s a baby to meet.”
I grin, so does my mom, before I leave her to change and hurry to the bustle in the front room.
August curls up from the baby carrier on the floor. We look like brothers, not twins, but with the new dark scruff on August’s chin we look more similar than we have in years. My brother hands a wiggly bundle to Lily. She’s beaming at me as she takes the baby. I’ve missed her too. She has a way of setting us all straight. I call her the glue of the family.
I laugh and open my arms wide, clapping August on the back. “Good to see you, idiot.”
“Me? Sounds like you’ve been the one messing up your life,” August chuckles.
I smack his cheek before hugging Lily. “Hey, Lil. Why did you marry him?”
She laughs through a new level of fatigue in her eyes, but she still smiles bright as always. “So many reasons, Rafe. This girl being the top one.” She shifts so I can see my niece. Finally.
I grin until Lily unloads the baby into my hands. My experience with infants is zero. She has big, blue eyes, a tuft of dark hair, and is the chubbiest thing I’ve seen. I’m stiff, holding her, but I’m pretty sure when she coos I melt through the floor. “She’s amazing. Good job you guys.”
August grins, but it widens when he hears the door click down the hallway. “Mama!” He rushes down the hall and practically scooped her off her feet.
Mama squeezes him tightly with one arm, laughing through tears as she keeps checking his face, then hugging him again. “It’s been too long, sweetie-pie.”
“How are you doing? Tell me the truth, because Rafe has been the one keeping track of you and we both know he’s incompetent,” August says, inspecting her.
“I’d call you something I’m thinking, but it’s a good thing your daughter is present,” I say, kissing Brin’s fingertips.
Mama pats August’s shoulder. “I’m doing better than all those doubters imagined.”
“Good,” August says as Lily swoops in to hug her next. “I don’t like being so far away with you going through all this.”
“I know. Don’t you worry, I’ve been cared for, but now that you’re here let me see this baby. I’d better sit before holding her though—I don’t trust my balance, and this arm just hangs there like a limp noodle.”
I didn’t realize I’d started rocking, and Brin has her tiny hand wrapped around my fingers. I almost don’t pass her over until Mama threatens my life. Lily snaps about a hundred pictures while they both start cuddling and crying over the baby.
“She looks a lot like you Aug,” Mama says. “You had all this dark hair, while Rafe was a bald blondie. Oh, but those eyes—now, those are Lily’s. Yes, you look like your beautiful mama.”
August creeps across the room and nudges my shoulder. His voice is low as he watches his family. “How are you?”
I force a grin. “Getting by. I’m really glad y’all are here.”
“Us too.” August’s nose wrinkles as his smile widens. “We’re coming back, Rafe.”
I close my eyes against the sudden flood of relief. “Don’t mess with me, August. Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I do mean it. Lily got a job at the same facility Mama was in. I’ve already talked with Zac and I’m going to come work with you idiots while I figure out how to go to school with jobs and a baby.”
If I were a crier, I’d be bawling. For four years Lily and August have lived out of state. To have them back—it means more than I can say. Especially now.
“When?” I croak.
“Still a few months. Lily needs to take her national boards and all that, but right in the thick of summer, probably. I’ll need your help to find us a place. Would you mind?”
I shake my head and drape my arm around his shoulders. “Nope. It will probably be next door.”
August laughs. “Thanks. Now, when do I get to meet this cousin you’ve made nice with?”
I’m grateful he doesn’t mention Olive. It’s a matter of time, but for now, it’s a bit of peace simply having my brother back, meeting my niece, and knowing they’ll be here to stay soon enough.
The harsh words from my mom are still rattling in my head, but for now I can smile, and wait until tonight when I am lost, as always, in somber thoughts of Olive Cutler.
Chapter 28
Olive
“I see you staring at me, Dot,” I say, adjusting my sunglasses without turning my head. “What do you want to say?”
Dot scoops at the last of her ice cream. “I think you know. This has been great, coming down here every day, binging on tea and ice cream, but 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,” she says. “And I hate him even more because I wish he’d just be mean and nasty, not so sweet about all this. I really hate him because he’s not saying why the heck he cut out my heart. And he’s still the sweetest guy ever.”
I laugh, even Dot grins a little. “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.”
“I know, but she didn’t force him to say our relationship wasn’t a good idea. How ironic is it that the instant I m
uster 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?”
I swallow the sick in the back of my throat. My arms have been empty for over a week, and I’ve craved Rafe to the point of insanity. I give in and shake my head. “No, as much as I don’t want to admit it, he’d never intentionally hurt me like that. But that hurts more. 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 drums the table slowly. “But you love him, Ollie. I hurt more knowing you might let him go than I do about Sawyer sometimes. You’re that annoyingly good for each other.”
“I do love him,” I say. “But no matter how much you love someone, if they don’t see a relationship the same, it won’t work.”
“I don’t know, I think you should talk to him.”
“I will. After graduation. Maybe.”
I’m grateful when my phone rings, to offer a bit of distraction, even if it’s Jace. And I’m back to thinking about Rafe. “Hi, Jace!”
“Hey,” she says brightly. “Dot let on that you might be needing some cheering up.”
“Oh, Dot did, huh?” I lift my brow. Dot only flushes and tosses her ice cream in the trash. “I didn’t know you two were close.”
“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.”
“You must have read my mind. We’re there now. We’re at Sweets.”
“Really? I’m not far.”
“We’re finished here, we’ll meet you out on the street.”
