Olivia (3 page)

“
Hey, Dad.”

“
Liv, your Mom and I are going to
head home. Our parents are coming with us. Why don’t you and Trey
head back to the city? We’d really just like to spend the day with
you kids.”

“
What about Jon?”

“
You can go ahead and drop him off
at his apartment.”

“
But we were going to spend the
afternoon together.”

“
Your mom needs you,” he says
quietly. “Do it for her?”

“
Okay,” I tell him, disappointed,
hanging up the phone. It’s not just that I want to be with my
boyfriend, either. I don’t want to talk about Granna–and I know
that’s what Mom needs. “Mom and Dad aren’t coming, and they want me
and Trey to come home.”

“
And I’m not invited,” Jon says,
having heard my end of the conversation with my father. “Yeah, I
definitely think something’s up with Jack.”

“
It’s not that,” I try to convince
him. “Dad just wants it to be family-only. It’s not an exclusion of
you specifically.”

I tell my cousins goodbye while Jon rescues Trey
from the game of chase. On the drive home, I wonder if there will
be any possible way for me to get out of the house again today.

When I get home and see my mother, still crying, I
finally accept that there isn’t.

The next morning, I help Trey arrange sliced bananas
and blueberries into a smiley face on his pancake while Mom and all
of my grandparents eat in the formal dining room. Dad goes outside
to get the paper, as he routinely does every morning. He’s spent so
much of his life on computers, it’s funny to me that he still likes
the feel of a newspaper.

“
Where’s the whipped cream?” my
brother asks me.

“
You don’t need whipped cream for
this! Trust me,” I explain, following my mom’s orders to try to
steer Trey away from unhealthy sweets.

“
Chocolate milk?”

“
We’re out,” I lie as I open the
refrigerator and quickly shove the brown carton to the back before
he can see. “But we have regular. Want some?”

“
Okay.” I pour a glass for him and
shoo him off into the dining room with everyone else. After making
sure he’s seated at the table, I get the chocolate milk back out
and pour a little in a mug for myself. Mom’s always telling me I
look too skinny, anyway. I drink it quickly, just in case Trey
comes back into the room.

“
Look who I ran into,” Dad says,
walking into the kitchen just ahead of Jon. He doesn’t sound angry,
but he doesn’t sound happy either. Jon looks apprehensive, so I
approach him quickly and welcome him with a big hug.

“
You didn’t tell him you’d invited
me?”

“
I didn’t think I had to. It’s
Saturday. You always come on Saturdays.”

“
Not this early.” He sighs,
gritting his teeth.

“
It’s fine. Want some
fruit?”

“
Sure.” I find two bowls and start
filling them with pineapples, cantaloupe, grapes and berries. After
I hand him one, I lead him into the room with my parents,
grandparents and brother.

“
This must be Jon,” Grandma Holland
says. She stands up, arms outstretched, before he has a chance to
put his food down. I take it from him quickly, being all too
familiar with her tight squeezes. It doesn’t matter that Jon’s a
stranger to her.

“
Hello, Mrs. Holland. It’s nice to
finally meet you,” he says, his voice strained from the loss of
breath. When she lets him go, he walks around to her husband and to
Mom’s parents and step-parents, introducing himself.

“
So you’re the reason Livvy’s so
distracted lately?” Grandpa Holland says.

Jon looks surprised by the question and shakes his
head slowly. “I don’t know, Liv, have I been a distraction?”

“
Nope,” I say pertly, sitting down
and patting the chair next to me, signaling for him to do the same.
I’d never admit that he was, anyway, because it sounds like
something my father would accuse him of.

Dad sifts through the paper, handing my mom a
section before removing the business pages and folding them up to
fit in the space beside his plate.

“
Jacks?” Mom says, looking at the
page in front of her.

“
Did I give you the wrong one?” he
asks her, taking it back from her unsteady hand.

“
No, but–” She stops herself, and
the room is silent as we watch my dad’s face contort into a look of
confusion.

“
What is it?” Grandma Hennigan
asks. Jon and I glance at one another.

“
If you’ll excuse me,” Dad says,
taking the newspaper with him as he stands to leave the room.
Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, though, he rounds the
table, walking behind us all. His arm reaches between Jon and me,
and he sets the offending article in front of us.

“
Not a distraction, huh?” he
mumbles. It only takes me a split second to see the pictures, and
to grab the sheet into my lap before everyone else sees. Dad
continues to the door. “It was a funeral,” he states, his voice
louder. I duck my head into my lap, not only to hide my rosy
cheeks, but also to look at the pictures in more detail.

Obviously, I’d checked the tabloid sites last night
and assumed we had hidden our activities well, but I guess the
photographers were not far enough away to keep them from getting
good pictures of me kissing Jon. If they were able to see my
boyfriend’s face at any point, they didn’t publish those
pictures.

“
Jacks,” my mother tries to stop
him, looking around the table, embarrassed.

Jon’s fingers pry mine away from the paper so he can
see what I’m staring at. He’s silent as he takes it in, but I
notice his hand is shaking.

“
Dad,” I call after him, standing
up abruptly and heading to his office, where I assume he’s gone. I
find him there, seated in his leather chair and looking directly at
me, like he’s waiting for me.

“
Close the door.” He crosses his
arms in front of his chest. I do as he asks and then sit in one of
the two chairs opposite him.

“
Dad–”

“
Give me a second, Liv. I’m trying
to calm down. I don’t want the entire family hearing what I have to
say to you.”

“
I’m sorry,” I tell him softly. “I
know you’re upset with me.”

“
Disappointed,” he corrects me.
“I’m disappointed in you. I’m upset with that boy out there. How
dare he–” He stops himself, realizing the volume of his angered
voice.

“
Listen to me, Dad.” I decide to
stand up, tucking my fingers beneath the lip of his desk and
gripping tightly, bracing myself. “It’s not his fault.”

“
A year ago, my daughter would
never be caught in a moment like that. What’s changed?” he asks.
“Oh, yes. That boy has walked in and made you forget everything
that’s important about family and propriety and... and... and
manners
!”

“
You’re overreacting.”

“
Do
not
tell me I’m overreacting, Olivia Sophia.”

“
Daddy, what’s changed is that I’ve
turned sixteen and I started dating someone that I really care
about. I’ll have you know that Jon was very uncomfortable when
I
kissed
him
like
that, but we hadn’t seen each other in days, and I wanted him to
know I missed him. I haven’t forgotten about family–damn it,
Dad–”

“
Olivia?!”

“
Sorry,” I say, “I’m just
frustrated, but I’m sorry. Daddy, I’ve spent the last five days
cooped up with family, so don’t tell me I’ve forgotten about them.
I haven’t.”

“
So just the propriety and
manners.”

“
You’ve never gotten carried away
by your emotions?”

“
I do my best to keep my private
matters in private locations.”

“
I didn’t know we were being
photographed, Dad.”

“
And I didn’t know I’d need to
remind you that even Donna’s private burial would be a huge public
spectacle, seeing as how she was revered in this city. Common
sense, Liv. Have some, okay?”

“
Okay, I’m
sorry
,” I say, moderately offended at his suggestion.
My temper begins to flare. “It was stupid of me. Next time I kiss
Jon like that, I’ll make sure we’re somewhere private.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Oh, I can make sure
there won’t be a next time,” he threatens. “You’re grounded.”

“
No, Dad,” I argue. “You can’t
ground me for kissing him. Sorry, but you know that’s been
happening, and you know it will continue to happen. In the end,
that’s
all
that happened. I didn’t invite
this publicity. I’ll be more aware of my surroundings from now on.
That has to be good enough.”

I can tell he knows I’m right as he strokes the
stubble on his chin. He shakes his head at me.

“
What?” I ask.

“
Get him in here.”

When I open the door, Mom and Jon are standing right
outside. My mother steps into the room, ushering my boyfriend
inside.

“
Is there no privacy anymore?” Dad
yells loudly. Mom tries to shush him, closing the door behind her
as she leaves. “You’re in this now,” my father tells Jon, pointing
his finger accusingly. “Now you’ll see first-hand what my family
gets to deal with every day. Gone are your days of anonymity. Now
the whole city knows you. Welcome to our world.”

“
Actually,” Jon begins, “they don’t
know who I am.” He places the paper back down in front of Dad, then
points to a caption beneath one of the photos. “Livvy Holland,
adopted daughter of Jack Holland, embracing an unknown suitor at
the funeral of Donna Wilson-Schraeder,” he reads aloud.

“
Great, so it’s just my daughter
who gets vilified.”

“
I don’t think it says anything
negative about her,” Jon explains.

“
When will they just call me your
daughter?” I mumble, too quiet to be heard. After thirteen years, I
don’t know why it’s important to mention I’m not his biological
child.

“
A picture is worth a thousand
words,” Dad says, picking up the paper, folding it in half and
dropping it to the floor with purpose. “Do you think these pictures
portray a positive image?”

Jon doesn’t answer, so Dad looks at me. “Do
you
?”

“
No, sir,” I say
quietly.

“
I’m
embarrassed
for you,” he says.

“
It was just a kiss,” I remind him.
He takes a few breaths as Jon and I stand motionless in front of
him. He leans over and picks up the paper, unfolding it calmly and
placing it in front of him.

“
Sit down.” We both do as he asks.
I fold my hands in my lap, even though I see Jon’s fingers reaching
for mine. Dad reads silently. When he looks back up at us, his face
is ashen. “They think you’re engaged? They’re wondering if
you’re... if you’re...”

“
What?” Jon and I ask
together.

“
Pregnant,” he barely chokes
out.

Jon clears his throat and starts talking
confidently. “It’s just sensationalist journalism. The notion is
ludicrous because... I mean...”

Dad and I both look at him.

His conviction fades quickly. “You know.”

I nod aggressively. “Of course we know!”
I want to curl up in a ball and die.

“
Things are different between you
two,” Dad says skeptically. I have to swallow hard and blink away
tears, seeing the actual disappointment in my father’s eyes now.
It’s one thing for him to say it, but I feel the emotion radiating
from every pore in his body.

“
They’re not,” I deny. “I don’t
know what you’re insinuating–”

“
Jack,” Jon interrupts, sensing my
struggle. “We kissed. We got a little carried away after not seeing
each other for a few days. That’s all it is. What couple in love
doesn’t react in that way?”

“
I don’t want to hear this,” Dad
says, impatiently standing up. “Fine. You kissed. Can you both
consider your surroundings and situations? It was a funeral. Have
some decency.”

“
Dad, I’ve apologized. I can’t take
it back, so that will have to do.”

“
You
haven’t.” He stares at Jon, waiting for a response.

“
Believe me, sir, I’m sorry, too. I
take full responsibility for my actions. I was just happy to see
her.” I don’t bother to tell him I told my father how it actually
happened, how it wasn’t his fault. It
wasn’t
.

“
Do not let your grandparents see
this,” Dad says as he walks past us, leaving us alone in his
office. I hear my mother tell him they already know, which draws
the obscenity from his lips that I knew he’d been wanting to say
all the while we were talking.

“
Your Grandpa Hennigan seems to
like me,” Jon says with a frown, staring at the wall across from
us. “I earned a pat on the back for this.” He picks up the paper
and looks at it again.

“
Sounds like Grandpa.” He always
had a skewed opinion of love; he was a cheater after
all.

“
Did Jack ask anything else?” Jon
asks quietly.