Olivia (2 page)

I’d let her down. Of course the fundraiser is now
cancelled, so there’s no urgency to finish the painting. I just
keep seeing her in my head on the day she’d asked me to paint it.
She was so excited to see it next to the painting I’d made of her
son. She felt it would make it seem like they were together once
more.

Maybe she knew what was coming. They
are
together now.

Instead of working on the artwork she’d
commissioned, I’d chosen to spend the first weeks of my summer
vacation with Jon. On his days off, we would spend long hours
together at the park, at the movies–even in the media room at my
house listening to music. In total, I’d probably only spent about
six hours painting since the school year ended, and I have no
desire to start up again now.

Even before we left for England, my dad had voiced
his concern about how little time I’d spent painting. I kept trying
to barter with him, telling him I’d paint more if he let Jon come
to the loft. Of course neither of my parents would go for that.
Honestly, I’m not sure if it was true, either. I really just wanted
to be close to him.

That desire is even more intense now after the date
we’d had in Greece. The last five days have been hell. I’d been
shuttling around family members and friends of Granna’s and people
I really don’t know, trying to make arrangements for this private
funeral service and the public memorial we held for her yesterday
afternoon. I’d hoped to see Jon then, but he’d decided to go back
to work early, and had committed to a project there.

I glance down the line, looking for him. He smiles
at me warmly, and we don’t look away from one another until he
finally makes it to me, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek,
whispering that he’s sorry for my loss in my ear. I link my fingers
with his, holding on to him when he tries to move toward my
mother.

He picks my hand up and kisses the back of it,
prying my fingers loose. I frown at him, but he continues to
embrace my mother, saying something in her ear, too. She lets go of
him, meeting his eyes and laughing before pulling him back to her
for another hug. His eyes are watering when he backs away this
time. I remember, possibly for the first time, that it’s his loss,
too. She was a mentor and role model to him for more than ten
years.

Jon holds his hand out to shake my dad’s, but my
father turns away from him, talking to his younger brother, Steven.
Jon stands in front of him for another few seconds before moving
on, not wanting to hold up the line.

I wonder if Dad did that on purpose.

After the line of people has all voiced their
sympathy, guests start to leave before the burial. My mother takes
a seat; my father follows suit, putting his arm around her as they
both look at the casket.

I have to get out of here.

“
Mom, can I go ahead and
go?”

“
Take my car,” Dad says, “and
please take your brother.” He hands me his keys, and waits for me
to give him mine. “Make sure he’s buckled in well.”

“
Can Jon come with us? I don’t want
him to have to take a bus.”

“
Sure, sweetie,” my mother answers
this time. “We’ll be there soon.”

“
Thanks.” I find my aunt, Kaydra,
who’s been watching the younger kids, and let her know that I’m
taking Trey with me. She tells me they’re leaving, too.

My brother is yanking at the knot in his tie,
looking uncomfortable. “Trey, here.” I kneel down and loosen the
neckwear.

“
Take it off,” he
whines.

“
No, buddy, you need to keep it on
a little longer. That’s not so bad now, is it?”

“
It still feels tight.” Jon joins
us and takes a knee next to me.

“
What does Livvy know?” he says to
my brother playfully. “It’s not about the knot. It’s about that top
button.” He unfastens it, then pulls the knot of the tie back up to
hide it. “Better?”

Trey smiles and nods. “Thanks!”

“
No problem.”

“
My brother and I are going to
James’s house for the reception. I’m taking Dad’s car. Do you want
to come with us?”

“
Sure,” he agrees. Trey leads the
way to the sedan, the only car Dad’ll let me drive my brother in
without parental supervision. Jon holds my hand loosely and smiles
at the few remaining guests. I make sure to stay on his right,
continuing to distract him from the line of photographers. A
funeral home employee stands behind a rope, not allowing them to
come any closer to us once we exit through the gate. We make it to
the car without Jon noticing them.

I get Trey situated in his booster and make sure
he’s buckled in as my boyfriend climbs in the front passenger seat.
When I assume my position behind the wheel, I make the appropriate
adjustments to the mirrors and seat. I’m much more careful–and
nervous–when I drive my dad’s car.

“
What’s up with Jack?” Jon asks
quietly.

“
What do you mean?”

“
He ignored me. It was like he was
actually avoiding me.”

“
Maybe he didn’t see you.” I don’t
even believe it when I say it.

“
I don’t know.”

“
Why would he be avoiding you?” I
ask him.

“
Because he knows...” I turn the
volume up on the radio, and adjust the sound so it’s mainly coming
out of the back speakers. I glance at Trey in the rearview mirror,
watching him flipping through the pages of a book.

“
But he doesn’t,” I say softly.
“Nothing happened.”

We glance at one another briefly and smile. He puts
his hand on my knee, rubbing it with his thumb as I return my focus
to the road.

Ten minutes later, we pull up to the home where
Granna lived since she married her first husband. Valets wait
outside the three-story mansion, and are quick to open our doors
for us when we reach the main entrance to the home. There are at
least sixty cars parked in the grass that lines the gravel
drive.

Jon frees Trey from his carseat as I make
arrangements with the parking attendant. “I’ll take good care of
your car, Miss Holland.”

“
It’s my father’s,” I tell him as I
watch the panic cross his face. “Don’t worry, even if you totaled
it, he’d probably still tip you.”

“
I’ll be very careful, miss.” I nod
nonchalantly, wishing people didn’t make such a fuss about my
family. Trey bypasses the house entirely, knowing that the backyard
is full of adventure in a forest of trees. With the amount of
people milling around, I’m sure he’ll be fine.

“
Maybe Jack saw us kissing?” Jon
asks, walking up the steps with me.

“
He wasn’t watching. I was
checking. Stop worrying. He’s probably just distracted today. And
neither he nor Mom have gotten much sleep with all the company
coming and going.”

“
Maybe you’re right.” Once inside,
we go directly to the kitchen, where my aunts are helping to keep
the food organized and the guests fed.

“
Hey, Kelly.” I give my dad’s twin
sister a hug, her cushioned pot-holder mitts patting my sweater
lightly.

“
You okay, sweetie?”

“
Yeah, I’m fine.”

“
What about you, Jon?” she
asks.

“
I’m well,” he answers.

“
How’s your mom?” My aunt directs
her question to me.

I shrug my shoulders. I can only hope she’ll be
okay, but I’ve never seen her so sad.

“
Yeah. Jacks is pretty broken up
over it, too. He considered her a good friend and confidant. Are
you sure you’re okay?”

I nod quickly.

“
Jacks says you’ve been staying
busy.”

“
There’s a lot to do. We’ve been
running the Holland Hotel this week.”

“
I’m sure,” she concedes, smiling.
“Make sure you take some time for yourself.”

“
Oh, I will. When they leave, I
will,” I respond. “Where are Maddie and Jackie?”

“
Everyone is out back.”

“
Where are the sodas?”

“
Just ask one of the waitstaff.” I
furrow my brows at her, heading to the garage where Granna always
had a second refrigerator stocked full of drinks. Jon follows me,
taking out a bottle of water and drinking half of it in one long
sip.

I take advantage of the privacy, setting my drink
and his on a workbench and reaching up to kiss him. He backs me
into the fridge, putting his hands on my hips as my fingers massage
his scalp and mess up his hair.

“
Olivia,” he says, once again being
the first to pull away. “This isn’t good. What if someone comes out
here?”

“
No one’s going to–” A woman–one of
the helpers that had been hired to assist today–takes three steps
into the garage before she notices us.

“
I’m sorry, Miss Holland.” She
begins to go back inside, but Jon steps away from me, motioning for
her to continue her work.

“
We were going back into the
house,” he tells her as he takes his water and hands me my soda.
“Come on, Liv.” He grabs my hand and pulls me with him. I make sure
to drag my feet, letting him know that I don’t want to join the
crowd that’s gathered to mourn Granna. I look around, seeing a few
older women standing around a china cabinet and wiping tears from
their eyes. I turn away, avoiding the sadness at all cost.
She’s not gone. She’s in every face around
me.

But she
is
. On the opposite
wall is the portrait of Nate I’d painted for her, a museum lamp
providing a warm glow that brings out subtle nuances of the paint
strokes. Next to it is a blank space, highlighted by a matching
lamp. That was where Granna’s portrait should be hanging.
She really is gone.

I swallow hard, forcing my eyes to find something
unfamiliar. “This house has a ton of rooms–” I tug gently, pulling
Jon closer, needing the distraction.

“
No,” he says, halting us both and
looking down into my eyes. “We are here to celebrate Donna’s
life.”

“
We have to find a way to be alone
again–soon,” I plead with him. His eyes are sympathetic, and he
brushes his lips against my forehead.

“
We can talk about it later at your
house. Let’s go find your cousins.” He follows my lead toward the
back patio door.

“
Funny, at
my
house,” I say, just comprehending what he’s said.
“What, with my grandparents swarming the place? I don’t think
so.”

“
I feel weird discussing this here,
Liv,” he says, his expression stern and serious.

“
Okay,” I say simply, opening the
door for him. He pushes against the wood, motioning for me to go
first. As I walk in front of him, his hand deliberately brushes
against my skirt again. I turn around and grin at him, seeing the
same playful expression on his face.

My brother’s high-pitched squeal stands out among
the others, and I immediately see him playing a game of tag with
Steven’s boys. Jackie waves me over to her, but her brother,
Andrew, stops us before we get there.

He looks squarely into Jon’s eyes. “Livvy says
nothing happened in Greece.” I slap my cousin’s shoulder, pissed
that he would even bring it up to my boyfriend. Before he answers,
I watch his reaction, noticing how he doesn’t look away
or
blink.

“
Livvy tells the truth.”

“
Bullshit.”

“
Matty was there the whole time!” I
explain frustratedly.

“
Exactly
.
You were with
Matty
.”

“
You’re barking up the wrong tree,
buddy,” Jon says as he side-steps him. My hand still in his, I
follow closely behind. “Nothing happened,” he says louder, making
sure Andrew hears him.

“
I don’t believe it, either,” Clara
says, glancing up at me and away from the cell phone she’d been
looking at with Jackie.

“
Shut up,” I tell her, rolling my
eyes but feeling the blush spread across my cheeks. It’s the same
reaction I had the first time I tried to answer her
question.

“
If it hasn’t happened yet,” Andrew
says, “it’s sure to happen at the loft. I can’t believe she left
you that in her will.”

“
I don’t get the loft until I’m
eighteen,” I explain. My parents were less than thrilled about
this, even though Granna had hinted at it. My mother was unwavering
that she didn’t want me to have such an extravagant gift, and
although the reality of her giving it to me was inevitable, no one
anticipated that ownership would change so soon. I’d wanted the
loft since I first saw it, but not this way. I’d much rather have
Granna here instead.

I clear my throat before I have a chance to dwell on
the sadness that creeps up again. “What were you doing?”

“
I was showing her the pictures we
took from the London Eye,” Jackie explains.

“
I wanted to go so badly,” Clara
says. “Thanks, Donna,” she adds sarcastically, looking up to the
sky.

“
Yeah, she knew you were on the
prowl for misadventure with British guys and chose the most drastic
way to stop you,” Andrew adds.

We all laugh uncomfortably–just for a second–not
knowing what’s appropriate to joke about and what’s not.

“
Is that your phone?” Jon asks. I
look into my purse and pull out my cell phone. He
must
have superior hearing capabilities. It wouldn’t
surprise me. He’s seemingly superior at everything else.