by Mj Fields
But both nights, lying across the hall from his room, upon sheets that feel like the soft petals of roses, in a palace where it would be impossible to not forget that outside the walls people still are hurting, and all for different reasons. But regardless of the reasons, their pain is no less than mine. In his case, it’s so much more.
When I look toward the open door, I see Bass staring at Oliver. My face immediately burns with embarrassment because I’ve been sitting here staring at him. My embarrassment heightens when I feel the wetness of tears I didn’t realize I was crying against my skin. I slide quietly out of the chair, Bass looks at me.
I place my fingers over my lips telling him Shh, and tiptoe to the door.
When I get closer, Bass steps back. I move out to the hallway and quietly close the door behind me.
Bass runs his hand through his dark hair and whispers, “Uh, yeah, I’m gonna… run down the street and grab some fresh pastries at the bakery. Would you like–”
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll go with?”
He nods as I quickly tiptoe across the floor to my room.
I throw my pajama top over my head and slip a bra on. I grab a burgundy oversized sweater from the closet, which is bigger than my room in Brooklyn, bigger than my entire dorm room in London, and throw it over my head.
I pull off my pajama bottoms and grab a pair of jeans from the closet and pull them on as I hurry toward the bathroom to brush my teeth.
When I look in the mirror, I am immediately grateful for the darkness last night because I didn’t have a stitch of makeup on.
Dear God, I sigh as I brush my teeth with one hand and search through my makeup case to find concealer to cover my scar. When both tasks are complete, I look down at my makeup and itch to do a full face today, but I don’t have time, Bass is waiting.
I run down the stairs and see my Chucks at the door next to Bass. He’s stops pacing when he sees me.
I wonder if he’s mad that I was in Oliver’s room. Or worse, does he think…
Of course, he doesn’t. He knows a man like Oliver would never be interested in someone like me. I bet he sees me as a kid, even though I’m not. I wonder what Oliver’s type is. Clearly not good enough if they haven’t captured his heart and shown him that love can heal all things. If they had, he’d be less guarded.
This awkward conversation I’m having with myself isn’t helping this situation be any less so.
I decide to joke, “In a hurry?”
He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, “No, just wanted to surprise your mom with breakfast in.” He stops. “TMI?”
“My mom’s pregnant.” I smile opening the door. “You sleep in the same room. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to assume you’re sleeping together.”
Dear God, why would I say that… especially now?
He laughs and follows me out. I glance back to see if he’s laughing because it was funny, or because of what he walked in on just minutes ago.
It’s because he thinks I’m funny… I hope.
After a few silent moments he says, “So?”
I look over at him and want to ask, so what?
“So, are you okay with me and your mom, or do you wanna explain what the hell you were doing in Oliver’s room?”
Again, I choose to address the one that isn’t awkward for me. “I’m happy for her and you. I know it’s only been two days that I’ve watched you together, but I know my mom, and she’s changed.”
“How’s that?”
“You know the term embrace the suck?” He nods. “She embraced it, and always made situations less sucky. She never let anything break her. She was happy, but now I can see she’s truly happy.”
He tries not to smile, but his eyes visibly brighten. I don’t hide my smile. Then I tell him, “We’ve gotten to know each other over the past week over text and I believe you love her. I imagine that you feel the same way she does. Like you were waiting for the moment you met so everything in the past made sense.” I need to bring it back in, “And if you’d been born when she met my Dad…”
He laughs out loud, “I was!”
I laugh at his reaction. “Well, I think you two belong together. I think the fact that she worked for your father and you met was fate intervening.”
His eyes narrow, but he seems to bring it back to happy. I suppose it hurt that his father died before he had a chance to know him.
“You love her–”
“Deeper than I ever thought possible.” He tries to shake the smile from crossing his face.
“Then I’m more than happy for both of you.” I smile. “And for my sister or brother.”
Now he doesn’t even try to hide the smile, it’s bursts from the inside out.
We walk along for a few more minutes when he asks, “So this morning?”
And here I thought I was avoiding that.
There’s nothing wrong with what I did, and the truth is always the best way to answer, but I also need to protect the bond I hope to build with Oliver, and not give away anything I think he’d not want shared.
When we get back to the house, I’m a bit tired from keeping up with his pace. It’s like he couldn’t get back fast enough. If I did have any doubt as to how he felt about Mom, the near sprint from the bakery would have erased it.
He hands me one of the two bags. “You mind going to surprise Maisie, while I go up ad surprise Angela?”
“I’d love to.”
Once my shoes are off, I head to the back of the house.
When I step inside the room, I hear Oliver speaking to Maisie from behind the room divider and stop.
“I know, but I have to. I promise I’ll be back every couple of weeks.”
“You can’t just work from here, like Bass and Angela will be?”
“I think it’s in their best interest that they have a presence in New York. Those board members are frothing at the mouth for him to mess up.”
“But they hold a majority of the shares, and Natasha speaks of Autumn with highest regard. She’s Angela’s best friend, you know.”
“I promise if I didn’t have to go, I wouldn’t.”
I hear Maisie sigh at the same time I do. However, I’m sure it’s not for the same reason. She has him. His respect, his love, his loyalty. I’m just beginning to make headway with Oliver Josephs, a man I know will be in my life for a long time. A man who is part of this newly forming family that I’m embracing, even though it’s happening all too quickly, even though my past has taught me that it may come with pain.
I clear my throat as I walk toward them. Although the past couple days would lead him to believe I may possibly be intrusive, I want him to know I’m not. I want him to trust me the way Maisie and Bass seem to already.
“Good morning Maisie.” I smile as I bend down and kiss her soft cheek. “I brought pastries.” I hold up the bag.
Before she has a chance to reply Oliver asks, “You go by yourself?” Before I have a chance to reply Oliver chimes in again. “Told you yesterday that was a bad idea.”
“Ollie,” Maisie tisks.
“It’s true, she buries her nose and doesn’t pay attention to her surroundings.” He scowls at me and I sit next to Maisie feeling rather smug, knowing he’s wrong and also, loving the concern he seems to have for me. Maybe not for me per say, but definitely for this family. “She’s going to be very well known soon, and there are people, like Ines, out there who aren’t happy with Bass. She needs to be fu–” He stops. “Aware.”
Maisie’s shocked expression turns quickly to concern.
I open the bag and pull out one of the contents. “Maisie, Bass and I chose a few things. What are you in the mood for, this croissant?” I reach in and pull out the next, “Or this Paris-Brest?”
Maisie chuckles, “I think she’s aware, Ollie.” His face hardens, and I turn and look at Maisie.
“Which will it be?”
“I’ll take the croissant, give Ollie the breast.”
I gla
nce at him just in time for his staunch look of annoyance give way to shock. But then he looks at Maisie like she’s lost her mind.
“Brest,” I say, correcting the pronunciation as I hold up the doughnut shaped pastry split like a bagel with a sweet creamy center. “Its name is inspired by a bicycle race between Paris and a city named Brest.”
I hand it to Oliver, he hesitates for a moment and then takes it with mild irritation. Then I hand Maisie her croissant and take another from the bag for me.
We each take a bite at the same time and Oliver’s… creamy middle spills out of the side of his pastry, and I watch as it falls, almost in slow motion, and lands on his… crotch.
Maisie nearly chokes on her croissant, causing me to do the same.
Oliver looks down and then up at us, his eyebrow cock as he licks his lips and then asks, “Really, ladies?” Then he stands and catches the falling cream before walking out the door.
Maisie falls into a fit of laughter and I can’t help but join her.
“That one,” she shakes her head. “He’s a tough nut to crack. Been through hell as a kid, then jumped right into it as an adult.” No longer laughing she sighs, “He’s a beautiful and complex soul.”
I could listen to her talk about him for hours, however the fear of him walking in on such a conversation gives me pause in asking questions about him. Instead I ask, “And how about Bass?”
She looks at me for a moment as she contemplates her answer.
Then she looks past me as if she’s waiting for him to come back in.
“You remember the movie we watched the first night?” she whispers, and I nod and lean in. “Do you know the difference between sense and sensibility?”
“I do, but I feel like I’m about to learn a stronger difference.”
She winks and Oliver walks in holding two cups of coffee. As she goes on explaining, he hands me one and I mouth a thank you. When he stares at my lips, I suck in my top one as I turn back to Maisie.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him pouring the second cup he carried in into Maisie’s, filling it, and then his own, before sitting down.
“In the book, sense is evident in Elinor’s ability to act without judgement, reason, or restraint. She acted with coolness, proper politeness, and logical reasoning. Her sister Marianne was sensibility. Do you know why?”
“I think so, but,” I shrug.
She turns and looks at Oliver. “Ollie?”
He swallows his coffee and nods. “She was emotionally driven.”
Maisie smiles and adds, “She was too eager and reactive.”
“Starting with the differences in reaction to their father’s death?”
Maisie nods her agreement. “Exactly. And in matters of the heart.”
She looks at Oliver, and again he’s swallowing another sip of his coffee. I want to laugh as I imagine the Oliver I have had dealings with talking books and love. But this guy, Maisie’s Ollie, he takes in a deep breath and responds. “They both fell in love with men above their status.”
Maisie shakes her head. “Matters of the heart, Ollie, not of the wallet.”
When she reaches over to get her cup, he rolls his eyes and sees me catch him doing so. I can’t help but smile, and his lip curls up, ever so slightly, but as quickly as it’s gone, I wonder if I just imagined it.
He continues the conversation, “Elinor who represents sense, was discreet, and Marianne wasn’t at all. Marianne had naïve views on love and marriage. Elinor was more realistic when it came to both.”
Maisie nods. “In the end, both of them grew to adopt a little of each other’s strengths in the matters of the heart, making them more able to be loved.”
When she adjusts herself in the bed, Oliver watches with concern. She looks incredibly uncomfortable. “Would you like to get up and out of here?”
Maisie’s spirits quickly lift. “You offering to take me out?”
“Found a great walking path along the river not far from here yesterday.” He glances at me briefly as he stands.
“Then you two give me half an hour with the woman you say is a housekeeper, but I know damn well is a nurse, to get ready?”
“Maisie,” Oliver begins.
“Shh, let’s keep that between the three of us. Let them enjoy the newness of their beginning.”
Once in the hall, Oliver says, “Did you have to make me look like an ass in there when I thought you’d gone out alone?”
“No, I didn’t have to. You did that all on your own, Ollie.”
He looks at me with absolutely no expression. But in the shadows of his protected eyes, I see amusement dancing.
I want to tell Maisie I get it. I get that to her Ollie is like Elinor… sense and Bass is like Marianne.
I shrug, turn my back to him and walk to the bathroom… beaming.
After a truly wonderful day with Maisie, Mom, Bass, and yes, even Oliver, I had planned to leave this evening, to be back for classes on Monday. Then Maisie suggested I leave in the morning when Oliver would be leaving, allowing us both to take the same flight. Bass and Mom agreed, Oliver looked a bit annoyed. I tried to ignore it while we all ate dinner together.
The main course of beef bourguignon would have been more than enough, but the estate chef made chocolate soufflé.
“You can’t say no to chocolate soufflé no matter how full you are,” Bass tells Mom who looks uncomfortably full.
“Bass–”
“You just can’t, Ang, it’s a rule.”
Regardless of the daggers that are either real or imagined that I’ve felt from across the table since we sat down, I can’t help but laugh. When Mom looks at me, I dip my spoon in and take a huge bite of my own soufflé, and she leans back in her chair and opens her mouth as Bass puts a heaping spoonful in her mouth.
After dinner, Mom and I insist on helping clear the table.
“You sure you’re okay with all this? Any concerns? Anything you’d like to discuss?” she asks quietly.
“I certainly am. He loves you, Mom.”
“And you and he kept a secret from me. I’m not sure I know how I feel about that.” She tries to scold me and I laugh, because I’m not sure she ever has actually scolded me.
“It would have ruined the surprise, and I think he and I texting back and forth, unsupervised,” I smirk, “Helped me see him in a way I might not have.”
I hear Bass chuckle as he enters the kitchen behind us. “Which was the plan.”
“What?” Mom gasps.
“You worry too much, Ang. If I was a less confident man, I would have let you keep me hidden for,” he pauses as he scratches his head as if he’s thinking, but I know he’s toying with her by the smirk. “Forever.”
19
Natasha
The entire ride to the airstrip with Mom, Bass, and Oliver is quiet. Mom is clearly exhausted and instead of asking if she’s okay, I Googled pregnancy and it seems like she’s perfectly normal.
After a long hug goodbye, her eyes mist over and like the plague, it’s contagious.
“Mom?” I shake my head because, apparently, I can’t handle seeing her cry, even if Google says it’s normal to be emotional. It’s more than likely because it’s the first time I’ve seen my mom cry.
She hugs me, pulling me closer and whispers, “Pregnancy hormones. Think of it like your worst period ever, on crack, then multiply that by a hundred.”
I laugh as I hug her tighter and giggle.
I open my eyes to wipe away tears and see Bass standing a few feet away looking intensely at her with concern and love.
I think of her list of characteristics she desired in a man.
Her list was short. Dependable, kind, faithful, moral integrity and fatherliness. Well, from what I’ve seen, she has gotten exactly what she said she wanted. I laugh thinking of how Autumn had picked on her about dating a priest.
I think of Autumn’s list as Oliver rounds the back of the blacked-out SUV and he’s no longer wearing jeans, a long
sleeve black tee-shirt and a black wool pea coat. Oliver is not wearing sweatpants or boxers exposing his bare muscular and beefy build covered in black ink. Oliver is standing next to my mother’s GQ model boyfriend in black slacks, a gray button-down shirt, and a suit jacket, holding a tie, and looking equally as GQ as Bass.
It dawns on me that Oliver ticks so many of her boxes.
Suit and tie. Taller than her, chiseled features, fit, bulging arms, six pack abs; I think it may be more like eight, but I’m sure she’d think that’s even better, and tattoos, so many tattoos.
No, I shake my head. From the messages Autumn and I have been sending back and forth, I know she thinks he’s an abrupt ass and I also know she has been messing around with one of the board members much younger sons, Eric.
I wonder why that makes me relax? I think to myself. The answer is easy, he’s too… complex for her. She’s already been through a marriage where she wasn’t treated properly and deserves a relationship less complicated, one she could get swept up in.
I blush at the thought of the other two items on her list, gentleman in the streets, a freak between the sheets, and then of course, oral ‘AF’.
I’ve seen, read, and heard about freaks in the sheets. I don’t understand what the allure is. And the thought of a man’s mouth… there, isn’t appealing to me at all. I much prefer the thought of being kissed and imagine when that happens, I will feel… whole for the first time in my life.
When Mom pulls back and looks up at the sky, I look up too.
I watch as a black jet begins to descend. It’s not the same one we flew here in.
I look back at Mom and she’s shaking her head at Bass as he and Oliver walk toward us.
“Sold two and bought one, Ang.”
Oliver looks up. “Sound economic decision, Bastien.”
His tone is mocking, and I bite back a giggle.
“What the hell does that mean?” Bass asks. “Sold two, purchased a new one that will be more comfortable for,” he side-glances toward Mom, “overseas trips, for all of us.”
