“Why does Oliver think that?” Becca asked.
“He said Matt saw me and Ben having coffee. And then there was—” She glanced at Ashley’s still unconcerned face. “—that letter.”
“Hardly the action of a man having an affair.” Ashley leaned back in her chair to allow the waitress to set a plate in front of her.
“What letter?” Becca asked.
“Ben arranged for the attorney to send Serena a letter last month, asking her to do something with me on our anniversary.”
“The tea,” Serena clarified.
“Oh that is so sweet.” Becca looked from Ashley to Serena. “Do you want me to have Jack talk to Oliver?”
“No, that’s okay. He’ll get upset if he thinks everyone is talking about it.”
“Honestly, Serena, you’re the last person I would suspect of having an affair,” Ashley said. “I think I would have known if my best friend and my husband were sneaking around behind my back.”
Serena bit into her sandwich. She liked to think she would know about something like that, too. But maybe not. After all, she was beginning to feel like she was married to a stranger.
On the way home, she picked up flowers from the supermarket and swung by the cemetery. She had an hour before the school bus would arrive at the house. Oliver and his brothers had agreed to keep flowers on Angie’s grave, with Ollie getting a pass while she was in the hospital. But she doubted he’d gone back to the cemetery since the one time they went together. Ollie was not the type to stir up emotions—particularly his own—if he didn’t have to.
The grass was greening, she noticed as she walked the path to Angie’s gravesite. Soon the trees would bud. The air outside was still nippy, but day by day the advent of spring was softening it. Easter was next weekend. Cam’s sixth birthday party was this weekend in the fire station’s community room.
And her parents were arriving this weekend, too. New beginnings around every corner, it felt like.
She just hoped she and Ollie weren’t ending. Could the universe be that cruel? Her parents finally come to see her—and her family—right as her marriage was crumbling. She stopped in front of Angie’s stone.
Yes, the universe could be that cruel.
She slipped the bouquet of flowers from its cellophane funnel and shoved the plastic into her jacket’s pocket. Then she laid the flowers on the grass below Angie’s carved name. Angela Jane Wolfe.
“Could I have come to you for advice on my marriage?” she said out loud. Belatedly she looked around. There was no one else within earshot. “Or would you have been on Oliver’s side no matter what?”
She leaned down to straighten a stem, arrange the flowers just so.
“Oh who am I kidding? I’ll probably always side with Mason and Cam. That’s a mother’s job, right?”
You always did the heavy lifting, emotionally.
She did! Right from the very beginning, too. If she hadn’t slipped Oliver her room number at the carnival, he wouldn’t have sought her out, bought her a cotton candy, invited her to ride the Ferris wheel with him. He would have let her slip right out of his life.
He was at the hospital nearly every day.
That’s what her father-in-law said. To hear the boys talk, their dad was at the hospital 24-7. Obviously, that wasn’t the case since he’d had his hands full with the boys.
The reality of that hit her. I was in the hospital. He had the boys. His mother had just died. Had he properly grieved her death? Or did he do the “Oliver” thing and bottle it up, put his head down, and plow through the days and months after? She guessed the latter. Shutting everything out was the only way he knew how to cope.
Chapter 26
Oliver slipped into the fire station’s community room with a stack of pizza boxes in his arms. He kicked shut the door behind him, to keep the noise from the rest of the station. He wasn’t sure which was louder—a party of six-year-olds or a siren. He stood for a moment, watching small bodies carom around the room, and wondering whether he could safely get the pizzas over to the table without one of the kids taking him out at the knees.
Today was Cam’s birthday party—and a welcome distraction from his in-laws’ impending visit. Could be worse. They could’ve arrived today. He tried to imagine what Serena’s rich, snooty parents would think of a birthday party held in a fire station. In St. Caroline, no one even blinked at the idea. People rented out the station’s community room for all sorts of events—birthdays, class reunions, wedding receptions, holiday parties. It was cheaper than the Chesapeake Inn.
Which reminded him—he still needed to thank Sterling Matthew for not charging Serena for Ashley Wardman’s tea. We aren’t made of money.
He began to thread his way through the human pinballs bouncing around the room, over to the long tables where Serena had set up juice boxes, plates, and napkins. A birthday cake was in the station’s kitchen, set aside for later. He watched her as she stood in front of the table, talking to Becca and keeping an eye on the kids.
And now she wants to go back to school? Where would they get the money for that? Back before he proposed to her, it had occurred to him that her affluent upbringing might cause problems in the future. He would never be able to support her in the manner to which she was accustomed. Normal Oliver had pointed that out over and over. But when he was face-to-face with her, Normal Oliver got locked in the basement and the new Oliver he desperately wanted to be—for her sake—agreed to all sorts of crazy things.
Like marrying a Park Avenue Princess.
How was that ever going to work out in the long run?
He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the tables and was able to set down the stack of pizzas. Becca gave him a crooked smile.
“Couple moments there when catastrophe was narrowly averted.”
He forced a tiny smile. “Yeah, imagine what this place will be like after they have cake and ice cream.” He turned to face the chaos. “Hey guys!” he shouted. “Pizza is here!”
The mob of kids stopped in their tracks—for a split second—then surged toward the tables en masse. “In an orderly line!” he added.
Then something close to a miracle transpired. He watched as Serena made her way through the surging sea of kids, splitting them off into two lines pointed at opposite ends of the tables. Becca and Matt handed out plates and pizza. Now that decibel levels in the room had tapered off, Oliver realized there was music playing.
She’ll make a great teacher.
Yeah, Serena definitely appeared to have more authority with the kids than he did. They still didn’t have the money to send her back to school, though.
“Ollie?”
He turned toward his wife’s voice.
“Do you want to pass out juice boxes at the tables?”
“Sure. Will do.”
Two long tables were set end to end to form one long table, covered with a birthday-themed paper tablecloth. Silly pointy hats were matched up with each folding chair. He walked up and down the table, leaning over small sweaty heads to drop a juice box in front of each kid. Cam sat like a king at the head of the table.
When he finished, he returned to where Serena stood with Becca. Matt was roaming the room, taking pictures on his camera. His brother was a good uncle. He’d make a good father someday, too, despite what most people thought of Mattie.
“Did you have your parties here?”
He was surprised to hear Serena talk, much less talk to him.
You’ve been avoiding her.
There’s a lot going on at the station.
There’s always a lot going on.
We’re trying to build a new station across town.
Good grief, he was talking to his mother again in his head. It seemed like the more stressed he felt, the more he imagined these conversations.
“Fine. Don’t answer.” Serena’s voice was soft, her words meant only for him to hear.
Oliver could remember celebrating his own birthday in this very room
, albeit on a more restrained scale.
“I did. But generally just with my brothers and a few close friends from school.”
“It’s sort of expected these days that you invite the entire class.”
“I didn’t mean that as a criticism.” He picked up a juice box and stabbed the tiny straw into the side. He took a sip. “Let’s not fight here.”
“I’m not fighting. But you’ve been cranky all morning.”
“And you know why that is.” He drained the juice box and tossed it neatly into the trash.
“Can you try and keep an open mind about their visit?”
“Will they keep an open mind about me?”
She sighed. “I thought you said you didn’t want to fight.” She shook open a trash bag and headed for the table, collecting spent juice boxes, empty paper plates, and pizza crusts. Just as she dropped the last plate into the bag, Sparky the Fire Dog burst into the room.
Pandemonium ensued as the kids rushed the giant dalmatian—aka his brother, Jack.
“Who wants to take a picture with me and a fire engine?” Jack called out over the din. “I can only take you in groups of three, though. Chief’s orders.”
Immediately the kids sorted themselves into two groups of ten. Jack glanced over at Oliver, as if to say, “can you help me out here?” Before Oliver could do anything—not that he had a plan formulated that quick—Serena had re-sorted the kids into smaller groups and resolved a few differences of opinion, one involving his own son.
Okay, so she would probably make a great teacher. And she did enjoy helping out in the boys’ classrooms. But they still couldn’t afford to send her back to school.
The universe will provide.
I’m not even dignifying that with an answer. His mother would never spout hokum like that, anyway. He set to cleaning up the empty pizza boxes while Jack shepherded kids down to the main bay. Matt followed, as the official photographer.
Oliver carried trash down to the dumpster out back, trying to regain his equilibrium. He didn’t want to fight with Serena at Cammy’s party—or anywhere, for that matter. But it seemed like any little thing could set them both on edge lately. He knew it was partly because he was stressed over her parents’ visit. They were due to arrive tomorrow, Sunday. But why wouldn’t he be stressed? These were the people who cut off their daughter because she had married him. A lowly firefighter. Taken away her trust fund. As though that was the only reason he had married her.
Hell, I didn’t even know she had a trust fund until they took it away. None of that had played any role in his decision to fall in love with her.
They were nice to you in the hospital.
They were civil. Not the same thing. Nor had they offered to help pay their daughter’s medical bills. He shook his head as he yanked open the heavy fire door and went back inside. Why did Serena want to see them anyway? She wanted Mason and Cam to know their grandparents—but grandparents like that? His mother would have been appalled by them.
I’m appalled by a lot of things these days.
Instead of going back upstairs right away, Oliver continued on into the bay where Sparky the Fire Dog was hoisting up kids and Matt was snapping pictures on his phone. Ashley Wardman would have done a better job, probably. But she was the last person he wanted at his son’s birthday. Well, third last—after his in-laws, Georgia and Peter Irving III.
He stood next to Matt. “How many more?”
“Two more. Smile!” Matt called out. “Then cake and ice cream. You ready for tomorrow?”
“Nope.” He looked at Jack in the Dalmatian costume. His brother was smart, marrying into the Trevor family. They were good people.
“Maybe they’ll surprise you.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
Matt elbowed him in the ribs. It wasn’t just that he expected Serena’s parents to be less than civil to him. It was that he suspected they were coming with other motives.
Cam was the last kid to have a turn with Sparky.
“Hey dad!” Sparky said. “Get over here and get in the picture.”
At six-foot-five, Sparky was a big dalmatian. Oliver took up position next to him, and he and his brother shared the job of holding up Cam. As he smiled broadly for Matt’s camera, he had the sense that one day he would look at this picture and remember it as the beginning of the end.
Chapter 27
“They’re here!” Mason and Cam were kneeling on the living room sofa and peering out the front window, each boy holding back a drape.
Oliver saw Serena take a deep breath. He understood why his sons were excited to meet their “new grandparents,” even as he was irked by the fact of their enthusiasm. Their idea of “grandparents” had been shaped by his parents. But why Serena wanted to see them—much less spend all day cooking for them—was a reason he could not fathom.
“You ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
She was dressed with care today. Black pants, blue button-down shirt, lighter blue cardigan. She had blow-dried her curly hair to straighten it—as much as it could be straightened—and then pulled it back with a barrette. He imagined this was how she had looked before … before me.
He had dearly wanted to dress the way he normally dressed—jeans and a St. Caroline Fire Department tee shirt or sweatshirt. At the last minute, he thought better of the idea and swapped out the sweatshirt for a button-down shirt. He kept the jeans, though. He was who he was. A better man than they give me credit for.
Mason yanked open the front door before Georgia and Peter Irving III even reached the porch. Oliver joined the boys at the front door, gently pulling them back.
“Let’s calm down a bit, guys. Okay?”
He had tried to manage their expectations, but the idea of grandparents as terrible human beings was beyond their understanding. He knew one thing, though. He was going to be furious if the Irvings treated Mason and Cam with the same disdain they held for him.
Could be worse. At least they were staying at the Chesapeake Inn. He had called Mike, the Inn’s head bartender, to let him know that Serena’s parents were coming.
“They’re rich. They’re snooty. They hate me.”
“Got it.” Mike understood the request immediately. “No worries, Oliver. Sterling understands those people. He’ll take care of them.”
“Thanks, man.”
Now Oliver watched warily as the Irvings climbed the steps up to the front porch. Peter Irving was leaning heavily on his wife’s arm. Both looked older than he remembered. In his peripheral vision, he identified their rental car as a Jaguar. Who knew you could even rent one of those?
Serena rushed out onto the porch to help her parents. There were no warm embraces or kissed cheeks. From where he stood, Oliver couldn’t even tell if any words of greeting were exchanged. When they got inside, Serena mouthed, “You could have helped.”
Yeah, he supposed he should have. But would her father want his son-in-law helping him? How was he even supposed to behave this week? As though the past eight years of silence hadn’t happened? When you got right down to it, the Irvings were complete strangers to him.
He went over to take their coats and hang them in the coat closet. He handled the garments carefully, like they might be breakable. Or contagious. When he turned around, the Irvings were seated on the sofa, with Mason next to his grandmother and Cam next to his grandfather.
Suck it up, buttercup.
He went over to shake his father-in-law’s hand, which was clammier and knobbier than Oliver expected. “Good to see you,” Oliver said, glancing over at Georgia and extending his tight smile to her as well. “How was traffic?”
Peter Irving grunted and dropped Oliver’s hand. “Not too bad, considering.”
“Can I get the two of you something to drink?”
“Water for both of us, please,” Georgia answered.
Oliver gratefully disappeared into the kitchen. Behind him he heard Serena’s voice. She was speaking to her
parents about the Inn and their suite. He took his time getting down glasses, adding ice from the icemaker, pouring the filtered water. He wished he could teleport himself to a week from now, Easter Sunday, the day they were leaving. Already, Cam’s birthday party felt ages ago, instead of merely yesterday.
He took the glasses of water back to the living room, where he was surprised to find Georgia and Peter chatting animatedly with the boys—asking about school, sports, favorite subjects, what they wanted to be when they grew up.
“I’m going to be the fire chief in St. Caroline,” Mason said proudly.
Bzzz. Wrong answer. Being a firefighter was not going to cut it with the Irvings.
But Georgia nodded. “Well, that’s a job you can’t outsource.”
Oliver caught Serena’s eye. Her expression was as guarded as his was. This visit was a grand experiment with huge potential for disaster. And then how would they explain to the boys why their grandparents never came to visit again? Well, they live in New York and it’s really far away. Mason and Cam had always bought that explanation before, but obviously that wouldn’t cut it anymore. Their grandparents had somehow managed to make the long trek to Maryland this time.
“I’m going to be a professional baseball player,” Cam declared.
Oliver saw Serena fighting back a grin. Cam was occupationally fickle, though the one field he seemed to have little interest in was firefighting. Peter Irving was taking Cam at his word, though, and sharing his opinions on the upcoming baseball season—which Peter seemed quite knowledgeable about.
“So I just have a few things to finish up in the kitchen and then dinner will be ready,” Serena announced.
Oliver followed. The expressed purpose of this visit was for the boys to get to know their grandparents, so he would leave them to that. There was really nothing he could do to impress them anyway. Other than go back in time and be born as someone else altogether.
“So far, so good.” Serena held up two crossed fingers. “I’m beginning to wonder why I invited them for the whole week, though.”
This Reminds Me of Us Page 18
