Authors: Lori L. Otto
Tags: #Romance, #Love, #death, #Family, #Sex, #young love, #teen, #girlfriend, #boyfriend, #first love
“
Baby, of course I did. It was an
incredible night. Thinking about it makes me smile constantly… and
it makes me a little…
concupiscent
.” I
blush at saying the word aloud. I’ve always hated the word horny,
and my sponge-of-a-brain had latched on to this formal replacement
the moment I learned it. I’ve said it to myself a million times,
thinking about Olivia, but I never thought I’d say it aloud.
I can’t tell her I’m horny.
“
Does that mean you want me,
too?”
“
That’s exactly what that means.
How do you feel about it?”
“
I don’t know,” she says, suddenly
shy. I don’t expect her to be detailed in her opinions of that
night. Everything is new to her, and even though she let go in some
moments, I knew she was unsure of certain things and embarrassed by
others.
“
Was I gentle enough?” I ask her. I
was as restrained as I possibly could have been that night, but
there were times when I thought I was going too fast, or too
deep.
Concupiscent.
I have work
to do, I don’t have time for this. If she was here right now,
though, I’d forego Dick’s challenge in a heartbeat.
“
You were perfect,” she says. “I
felt loved.”
“
You are loved, Olivia. Above any
feelings of lust I have for you – right this very moment, in fact –
I love you more.”
“
I like that you
lust
me, too,” she says with a slight
giggle.
“
If we keep talking like this, I’ll
have to go find a woman who’s not boarded up in her brownstone with
ten family members and make mad, passionate
lust
to her–”
“
Don’t you dare,” she
laughs.
“
I could only love you,” I assure
her. “And you’re the only one I could lust after, too, Liv. Trust
me. But this is the last time you’re going to call me in the middle
of the night and get me all worked up while I have drawings to do.
If you do it again, you better be able and willing to do something
about it.”
“
I like it when you’re
demanding.”
“
I like it when you want me. No, I
love it when you want me. We just have to figure out how we’re
going to make it happen again.”
“
I know,” she says. “But I just
want you to know I do want it again. I hadn’t really told you that,
and I thought you might like to know.”
“
It’s made my night… or morning.
Hell, it’s made my week, Olivia. And making love to you last
weekend made my
lifetime
.”
“
Mine, too.”
“
I love you, baby. I’ll call you
tomorrow after I get some sleep. Okay?”
“
Okay,” she says. “I love you, too.
Get lots done, and be careful going home.”
“
I will. Good night.”
“
Night,” she whispers before
hanging up.
By six-thirty, both sketches are complete. On the
revised elevation I drew, I sign my name to the art in the corner
of the page as I was instructed to do on my second day here. On the
original one, I simply put a smiley-face in the corner. I roll them
up and place each one in its own tube, and personally hand deliver
both to Wallace. He puts the caller he was speaking to on hold to
address me.
“
Have you been here all night?” he
asks as I sling my bag over my shoulder.
“
I have. I was presented with a
challenge, and I like a challenge.”
“
And that’s why you’re giving me
two drawings?”
“
Yes, sir. I would be happy to
discuss the second one with you when I come in this
afternoon.”
“
I’m intrigued,” he says through a
growing smile. “I look forward to that.”
Confident in my work, I leave the building. Even if
this doesn’t follow protocol, and even if I was never asked to
present original ideas, I know that what I’ve given them will make
them reconsider Dick’s original plans. At least it will make them
think twice about the construction.
At best, it will make a lasting impression.
EMI
“
It’s nine in the morning, Mom,”
Livvy says as she steps into the kitchen. “Why are you eating key
lime pie?”
“
I think it’s the perfect time to
eat pie,” I respond. “Plus, I thought I was alone for a bit. Jacks
and Matty took everyone out for the day. I think the whole family’s
getting stir crazy. And you, missy, I heard you up at three. I
figured you’d sleep in much later.”
“
You heard me?” she asks. She looks
like she was caught doing something wrong.
“
I was doing some laundry
downstairs,” I admit, looking at her sideways. “Were you doing
something you shouldn’t have been doing?”
“
I had a bad dream, so I called
Jon.”
“
You shouldn’t be calling him that
late, Livvy. He has a job now, doesn’t he?”
She looks at the pie longingly, and I get up to
serve her a piece. She smiles, pulling up a seat next to me at the
kitchen island.
“
He was at work,” she informs me.
“He pulled an all-nighter.”
“
He’s too young to be putting in
those hours. Why was he doing that?”
“
He said it was a long story. I’m
sure something inspired him.”
“
I’m sure,” I agree.
“
What was so urgent about the
laundry, Mom? Huh?”
“
I had a bad dream, too, and I
didn’t want to keep your father awake. Plus, with all the extra
people here, there seems to be a constant stream of
laundry.”
“
I can help with that today. I
don’t have anything else to do since I can’t see Jon.”
“
Jon is only one element in your
life. There are about a million other things you can be
doing.”
“
I don’t want to do anything else.”
Her choice of words twists in my mind, but I pretend like I don’t
notice the entendre, and hope she didn’t intend for one.
“
I see. Well, dinner was a hit last
night. I know Jacks had fun teaching you. Maybe you could do that
again tonight.”
“
I know he was just doing it to try
to get me to talk. I know what you put him up to, Mom. I’m not
stupid.”
“
I never said you were.”
We both eat our slices of pie in silence. When she’s
finished, she takes both of our plates and rinses them in the
sink.
“
I noticed you put your paint
supplies away yesterday.” It’s not a subtle way to bring it up, but
as she stated, she’s not stupid. There’s no point in beating around
the bush with her.
“
So?”
“
So… I haven’t seen your room that
clean since… well, before you lived in it.”
“
Most mothers would be
grateful.”
“
Most mothers don’t have extremely
dedicated, talented artists for daughters, either. But I’m special,
because you are.”
“
That’s nice of you to
say.”
“
Livvy, honey, why aren’t you
painting?”
“
I can’t concentrate on
it.”
“
Well, why not? What’s on your
mind?”
“
Mom,” she whines.
“
I could make assumptions, if you’d
like. I presume there’s a part of you that’s upset about Granna. I
presume there’s a part of you that is anxious for life to get back
to normal again. I presume there’s a part of you that’s preoccupied
with Jon… and with…“
I don’t know if I should say any more about my
suspicions.
“
With what?” she asks.
“
With whatever happened in
Greece.”
“
I don’t know what you’re talking
about,” she tells me without looking me in the eye. “We had dinner,
like I promised him we would, and then we went our separate ways
for the night. It’s like no one trusts us,” she pouts, crossing her
arms in front of her chest.
I don’t believe her, and I don’t want to let this
moment pass us by. “Livvy, you can tell me anything, okay?”
“
There’s nothing to
tell!”
“
Okay, okay,” I concede. “So
nothing happened, but if it did – or if something does happen
in the near future – I want you to know you can come to me
with questions or concerns. I’m your mother, and I want to be here
for you, okay?”
“
That’s fine,” she says with a
crimson blush.
“
You wouldn’t be in trouble. And it
could stay between us.”
“
I thought you weren’t keeping
secrets from Dad anymore.”
I remember our conversation from Valentine’s Day,
the day she and Jon snuck into the loft for the afternoon. I
discovered them, but didn’t tell Jack. I do believe that nothing
happened that day, but something’s different about Livvy’s denial
this time. She was believable before, but she’s not now. I can’t
put my finger on why… and maybe this is still just my own guilt,
eating away at me.
I
let her go.
I
left her in the care of an uncle who
would look the other way. I let Jon and Livvy’s love story carry me
away.
“
I regret sending you with Matty,
Liv,” I say, choked up. “I’m so sorry if I put you in a place where
you had to make decisions you weren’t ready to make. You’re too
young, sweetie. I forget that you’re only sixteen
sometimes–”
“
Mom!” she says, stopping me.
“Nothing bad happened, okay?” She added a word.
Bad
. She meant to. She looks at me directly. “Any
decisions I made… I was ready to make.”
I search her eyes in an attempt to better understand
her.
Is she admitting it? Did they?
I feel
a tear stream down my cheek, and wipe it away quickly, but she
already saw it. Livvy’s eyes water in response. “Nothing happened,”
she says softly. “I’m fine. I’m still regular old Livvy.”
“
There’s nothing regular about
you,” I correct her with a smile, appreciating her desire to change
the mood.
“
I’m special,” Livvy says with her
trademark eye-roll, going back to my earlier compliment of
her.
“
You are,” I affirm. “But you’re
not old yet, either. I think you’re too young. Do you understand
that?”
“
I understand that you think I’m
too young, Mom, yes. I hear that loud and clear.” I know from her
demeanor, though, that she doesn’t agree. There’s no point in
arguing. I remember being 16, too.
I remember being 16, and I remember having curious
thoughts about sex. My friends were doing it. They turned out fine.
I think it all depends on the relationship, on the two people
involved. This is where my judgment gets clouded. It’s because I
love and respect my daughter, but I also truly admire the boy she’s
chosen to be with.
MATTY
“
Jesus! These people are vultures!”
I exclaim once corralling the entire family into Jack’s home.
Glancing out the window, I see people are still poised with cameras
pointed in our direction. Jack had been calm. Everyone else had
been silent. I can’t stand it anymore.
I swing the door back open and stand on the front
porch, blinking away the constant stream of flashes. “We have asked
for privacy!” I yell at them.
“
Where is Livvy?” someone asks
above the noise of the rest of them.
“
Who wants to know?”
“
ManhattanNOW,” he
responds.
“
Your site’s shit,” I inform him,
happy to have the chance to give a little critique. “For one thing,
your equipment must suck because I’ve never seen a clear picture on
your site. Or perhaps it’s just your poor photography skills…
secondly, your news always comes a day late. Timeliness is
certainly not your forte, which is sort of a contradiction to your
name, ManhattanNOW, isn’t it? Why not Manhattan-yesterday or
Manhattan-some-time-after-the-other-tabloid-sites-break-the-story?”
“
Don’t encourage them,” I hear Jack
say from inside the house. I glance back, but he’s not anywhere to
be seen.
“
If we can get a picture of Livvy
Holland, we’ll go,” someone else calls out to me.
“
You want a picture of my
niece?”
“
Yeah.”
“
And if I give you one, you’ll
leave?”
“
Yeah!”
“
Give me a few minutes,” I say,
going back inside and walking with purpose past my
brother.
“
What do you think you’re doing?”
he asks.
“
They want a picture of Livvy. I’m
gonna give them a picture of Livvy.”
“
Like hell you are. Don’t play into
their demands. We don’t barter with them. We
ignore
them. Once we do that, and stand firm on not
doing anything that’s remotely newsworthy, they leave.”
“
They’ll leave when they have a
picture of Livvy!” He follows me to his office, where I try to
guess the password on his computer. “Emi. Nope. Livvy. Nope.
Sexytime-with-Emi. Nope. My-favorite-tie-is-blue. Nope.”
“
What are you doing?”
“
What’s your password,
Jacks?”
“
Idiot,” he mumbles, moving the
keyboard toward him and typing something in quickly. “I was close.
It started with E-M, didn’t it?”