Olivia (69 page)

“
I lost a close friend of mine when
I was fifteen,” he begins.

“
This is different,” I say,
stepping on his next sentence.

“
I asked for two minutes,” he says
calmly. I nod my head, allowing him to continue as I glance at the
time on my phone. There’s a part of me that wants to set a timer,
but again… I’m no longer a child. “I grew up with him. When he was
thirteen, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I won’t insult your
intelligence by asking if you know what that is.”

“
Cancer of the blood cells,” I tell
him, just to prove that I know. “It can be chronic or acute, based
on how quickly the symptoms show and the cancer
spreads.”

“
Yes,” he continues. “Philip had
acute lymphoblastic leukemia. He started losing a lot of weight,
and he had headaches quite often. When the pain spread to other
parts of his body, he was diagnosed with the disease.

“
When you’re fifteen, you’re just
awakening to the sense that life is yours for the taking. You start
making decisions that will start preparing you for the path you
want to take. Philip and I were going to play major league ball
together. We had been the best pitcher and catcher combo our
neighborhood had ever seen. It was like we always knew what the
other was thinking. We were always one step ahead of anyone
else.

“
After he got sick, I remember
thinking that this was just a minor distraction. That once he was
cancer-free, I’d practice with him day and night to get him back
into shape. Even in the late stages of his disease, I kept assuring
him he’d be fine. At the time, I believed it. At the time, no one
had ever left my life.”

I can hear my dad swallow back a lump in his
throat.

“
And then he died. To me, I’d say
he died unexpectedly, but of course he didn’t. Of course I’d had
plenty of time to prepare. I just didn’t. So when my parents
delivered the news to me, I was lost. It was the first time I’d
realized that we are not invincible. It was the first time I’d
realized that no matter what plans we were making, there was a
higher power at play. We are not in control of our
deaths.”

“
We can be,” I interject. He looks
at me curiously. “Like, suicide,” I mumble.

“
Do you think about that,
Contessa?” he asks, hushed.

“
No, Dad!” I say emphatically. “I
was just stating that…“ He hugs me quickly, and holds me tight. His
hands move soothingly up and down my back. I let him hold me, even
as onlookers whisper around us. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” I
tell him.

He pulls away and smiles at me, pushing my hair
behind my ears. He breaks away and picks up a yellow onion, putting
it in a brown paper bag.

“
Was that it?” I ask him. “Was that
the end of your story?”

“
I’m not sure,” he says. “I was
scared at that thought, that my life could be over in a split
second. There was a certain amount of trepidation and paranoia that
loomed over me for weeks. But I remember something my mother said
to me, after days of talking through my feelings. She said, ‘We’re
not in control of our deaths, but we are in full control of our
lives.’

“
That stuck with me,” he concludes
with a nostalgic look in his eyes. “What’s next on the
list?”

We are in full control of our lives. The phrase
echoes in my mind. I am in full control of my life. Am I?

“
Liv? The list?”

“
Garlic powder,” I say, remembering
the next ingredient without needing to check my notes.

“
We have that at home,” he says,
pushing the cart onto the next aisle.

“
Dad, what was the point to your
story?”

“
To encourage you to talk to us.
I’m not sure I ever really got to that point, though,” he chuckles
to himself, looking at different packages of graham crackers as if
he were looking for the meaning of life.

“
What’s there to talk about?” I ask
him.

“
So much, Livvy. If you’re not
ready to talk now, then please just assure me that you know your
mother and I love you more than anything, and we will be here for
you when you
are
ready.”

“
I know, Daddy.”

He finally settles on a box of crackers and looks
across the aisle. “Did you see any condensed milk?” he asks. I grab
some off the shelf and put it in the cart. We pick up the rest of
the items on our list in relative silence. It’s awkward.

As we put our items into bags, he clears his throat
to get my attention. “I’m not good at this, Liv,” he admits.

“
It’s fine, Dad.”

“
I did all the talking. That wasn’t
my assignment.” I knew Mom had put him up to this, but I
did
expect him to be more eloquent, or at
least more succinct with a point. “You know, the best person to go
to is your mother.” It sounds like he’s giving up, and as much as I
don’t want to talk about Granna, I don’t want him to give up on me,
either.

“
Why, because she’s an expert on
unexpected deaths?” I ask sarcastically.

“
No, Liv. She’s an expert at being
a survivor,” he corrects me.

JON

“
Are you staying late tonight?” my
boss asks when he walks by the studio on his way out.

“
Yeah,” I respond. “It’s easier to
focus when it’s quiet.” He comes over to my desk and studies my
elevation drawing.

“
It’s fantastic,” he says as he
compares a photo of the current landscaping with my drawing.
“You’re definitely an artist. It’s nice to see natural born talent
like this. Anyone can plug in lines and numbers on a computer. But
to be able to finesse such beauty into the design by hand. It’s a
dying art, Jon. Don’t ever become too reliant on your computer.
Machines will never replace the artists, and this industry will
always need your kind.”

“
Thanks, Wallace. I hope you’re
right.”

“
Kid, you’ll always be welcome here
– you’re the fastest study I’ve hired. How was
Europe?”

“
It was great. I’d hoped to spend a
few more days over there, but one of my friends and mentors passed
away. Her funeral’s Friday, so I was hoping to take some time off
for that.”

“
You know my rule. As long as the
work gets done – and gets done right.”

“
Yes, sir.” I look up at him and
smile while I sharpen the point on my pencil. “Have a good
evening.”

With him gone, it’s just me and a junior architect
left. I still can’t fathom why a man named Richard would willingly
go by the name of Dick, but since it suits him so well, I don’t
mind calling him that as often as I can. His work is sloppy. He
apparently can think outside the box like no one else, but he
doesn’t have the patience to translate those ideas to paper. That’s
why I’m here today.

I study his sketch, still finding it difficult to
see what’s so special about this building. I feel like I’ve seen it
done before, except for one particular slope on the awning, the
next thing I need to finalize in ink and colored pencil. I look at
it more critically, reading the notes he’s made about his choices
of materials.

Surely this is a mistake. I glance around the room,
looking for cameras. This has to be a set-up; a test.

Before I start on the front of the building, I
decide to run it past the designer himself.

“
Dick?” I ask from his doorway. I
catch him watching videos on his computer, and whatever it was,
he’s embarrassed that I walked in on him.

“
What do you want, kid?” he asks
impatiently.

“
Well, Dick,” I start, “I was just
looking this over before I inked the front awning, and maybe I’m
reading it wrong, but what you’ve drawn here doesn’t seem
physically possible.”

“
Just draw the building, kid.
You’re not here to think about it, study it, or read anything into
it. You’re here to draw it. So go draw.”

“
It says concrete with metal
latticework. I mean, it looks cool as hell, but then you have this
one tiny post supporting all that, and I don’t think–”

“
What did I just tell you about
thinking? That’s not what you’re here to do.”

“
But these are sketches for the
client. We’re applying for permits with this, right? No one’s gonna
give us a permit for this,” I nearly laugh at him. “Let’s present
them with something that doesn’t go against all laws of gravity.”
He looks up at me, clearly angry.

“
What are you, an engineer? No,
you’re a fucking college student who’s talking way out of turn
right now.”

“
Technically, I’m not a college
student yet, nor am I an engineer, but I’ve done enough coursework,
studied enough designs, and had enough practical experience to know
that this minuscule pole cannot bear the load of an awning like
that. And then what are you going to do? Backtrack after
construction’s begun? That seems pretty irresponsible,
Dick.”

“
Draw the fucking building the way
I sketched it, kid. If you like this job at all, you’ll just do
what you’re paid to do.”

“
I’m not paid to take orders from
you, Dick.” It really does feel good to say it and mean it and not
get my teeth knocked out for it. “Wallace hired me for a number of
reasons. I draw very well. I’m efficient at what I do, and I rarely
make mistakes. I’m thorough. I’m detail-oriented. I had the highest
GPA in the most difficult courses at my school – not just last
year, but in the history of that school. I had not one, not two,
but six letters of recommendation for this job by respected people
around the city of Manhattan. But – and I believe this is the one
that was most important to him – I’m not afraid to stand up for
what I believe in.” My heart’s pounding as I await his
response.

“
I’m leaving for the night,” he
says, grabbing a satchel off the floor. “I expect to see the
elevations finished and on Wallace’s desk for approval by the time
I get in at 6:30. I know a lot of influential people in this city,
too, kid, so if you want a career here, you’ll stop arguing with
me. You’ll do
as
I say, you’ll do it
when
I say, and you’ll do it with a
smile
.”

He’s taller than I am, and when he steps past me to
exit his office, he takes my chin in his hand. “I said with a
smile.” I stare at him before the smile comes naturally. He doesn’t
scare me. Nor does he control me.

“
Have a good night,
dick
.”

I return to the studio, turning off all the lights
except for the ones over my workspace. I glance at my reflection in
the window, challenging myself to not only draw the building the
way he wants, but to do a second one that’s modified with my own
outside-the-box idea. I have nine hours to do it. It’ll be tough,
but it’s not impossible. I take out my computer and set it up,
carefully selecting a playlist in iTunes, and I get to work.

Hours later, I hear my phone vibrating in my bag.
I was supposed to call Olivia, but I
forgot
. It’s a text message from her.
It’s
three in the morning?!

I’d been working quickly, but I had no idea it was
so late already. I look over the second sketch and compare it to
the first. Even though time has flown by, I’m confident I can
finish it. I finally read Olivia’s message.

Call me when you get up.

I suppose I’ll be going to bed around the time she
expects me to get up, so I decide to call her back now.

“
You’re awake?” she asks
me.

“
I’m at work,” I tell
her.

“
Why?”

“
Long story,” I answer vaguely.
“What’s wrong? Why are you up at three AM?”

“
I’m lonely.”

A flash of warmth overtakes my body. “I miss you,
too.”

“
I want to see you,
Jon.”

She sounds very needing. “What for, baby?” I ask
her, setting my pencil down.

“
What do you think?”

“
Oh, don’t do this to me, Liv,” I
whine. “Don’t make me say no to that. You know it’s not really
possible anyway. Your whole family is there… and mine’s at my
apartment – well, my brothers are there with a neighbor,
anyway. We don’t have anywhere to go… and it’s not really the time
for that, is it?”

“
I can’t help it that I want you…
like that…“ she says meekly. “It’s your fault.”

“
I’ll happily take the blame for
this, and I’m glad you still want to be with me despite how our
night ended, but I’m not sure we’ll ever get another chance like
that. Especially since I think Jack’s on to us and likely won’t let
you out of his sight ever again.”

“
He’s not either,” she tells me.
“He would have confronted me if he was on to us. We’ve had plenty
of time to talk, and it’s all he’s wanted to do.”

“
Your family has about a million
other things going on right now. I guess I can be glad our sex life
isn’t at the top of his list.”

“
Wow,” she says, the word sounding
awe-inspired. “We have a sex life.”

I laugh at her comment. “I can die happy because we
have a sex life.”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Did you like it?” We
hadn’t had any time to talk about it after the fact, but I was sure
she knew I liked it. It makes me sad to think she doesn’t know this
already.