Read Contessa Online

Authors: Lori L. Otto

Tags: #Fiction, #Coming of Age

Contessa (54 page)

BOOK: Contessa
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First of all, sweetie, you

ve got to stop crying. That

s what he

s talking about. He doesn

t see the adult in you like I do. He sees the little girl who didn

t get her way and is locked in her room, sobbing about it. Don

t let him see that. You can be upset, you can cry with me when we

re alone, but don

t let him see that anymore.


Do you think you can do that?


I can try,

I tell him.


Okay. What time do you leave tomorrow?


Ten o

clock.


That

s in nine hours. You need to get some sleep.


I know. I never thanked you, did I?


Honestly, the whole thing

s a blur. I

m pretty sure I was discussing having sex with you with your father at some point, but I

m hoping that was just a horrible nightmare.


If it was, I think we all had the same nightmare.


I

m sorry, Olivia. I know I didn

t make things easier for you.


I don

t know,

I tell him with a sigh.

I kind of feel like everything

s out in the open. I

m angry at him and really frustrated, but for some reason I feel a little less burdened. He kind of has to take it or leave it now.


How

s your mom?


I managed to piss her off royally.


What

d you do? You guys don

t fight.


Not typically. I don

t want to talk about it.

A lump starts to form in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I truly feel horrible, remembering her reaction about what I said. I never saw that coming.


You sure?


Yeah.

I barely squeak the word out.


If you change your mind, baby, you call me. My phone

s right here. I don

t care if you wake up my brothers, okay? And that

s a standing rule. Anytime.


Thank you,

I say softly, trying to swallow but finding it painful and difficult.

And thank you, for the promise.


I mean it.


I promise the same,

I tell him.


I love you, Olivia Holland.


I love you, too, Jon. I

ll call you when we get there tomorrow.


Anytime,

he reiterates.

Try to have a good time. And no more tears. Show him you

re a grown up. You don

t need his approval but you

d like his blessing; that

s kind of how I

m thinking about things now. I

d never say it, but that

s my approach.


Not bad,

I say.


Sweet dreams.


No more nightmares,

I respond. He laughs and tells me good night.

CHAPTER
10

The house is unusually quiet as I get ready in the morning. I can feel the tension surrounding me, and I can

t imagine how this weekend with my family is going to be.


Livvy,

my dad calls from the top of the basement stairs.


Yeah?

I make my way out of my room, taking a deep breath.

What

s up?

I ask him.


These roses were on your car,

he says, holding a few flowers and a card out to me. I run up the stairs quickly when I notice he

s making no effort to bring them down.


They

re camellias,

I correct him. He shrugs his shoulders in response.

Thanks.

I take them and turn away, descending the stairs quietly.


What, now he

s mocking me?

he asks.

I turn around, gripping the handrail tightly.

Hardly, Dad. He

s not that type of person. Stop trying to make him out to be some horrible guy. He

s not.

He nods.

Can you be ready in five minutes?


I

m going with Mom,

I tell him, returning to my room.


She left with your brother an hour ago. She wanted to beat the traffic heading out of the city.


Great,

I mumble.


Five minutes?


Yep,

I say just loud enough for him to hear. My stomach tightens with anxiety. This weekend just got a whole lot worse. I hadn

t anticipated a two-hour car ride alone with my father. I had been plotting my apology to my mother all morning. I hadn

t prepared anything for Dad.

Sitting down on the bed, I quickly scan the card Jon left.


Olivia,


Do me a favor this weekend: if you

re standing near another guy, please stay away from the mistletoe.


Have a Merry Christmas.


Love, Jon

I laugh out loud, holding the card close to my heart. I look down at my hand and admire the ring on my finger, remembering the moment he gave it to me. I try to forget how that moment was ruined not a minute later, but it

s hard to do. It just makes me angry again.

Realizing I

m not finished packing, I grab the nearest bag, which happens to be the bag I had given to Jon last night. I toss the rest of my things haphazardly inside, and tuck the card and three of the flowers–a pink one, a white one and a red one–into the side pocket. Slinging the messenger bag and my own large duffel on my shoulders, I hit the lights and make my way upstairs. Only a handful of presents remain under the tree, the rest already packed away in one of the two cars we

re taking to the lake house.


Did you eat anything?

my dad asks, his coffee in hand.


Not hungry.


I don

t want to make any stops.


That

s fine.

He gets his keys out and holds the door open for me, locking it securely behind us.

After an hour of talk radio, I can

t stand the tension anymore.


Are you not going to talk to me all weekend?

I ask him.


If I had any idea of something I could say to you that would make us all better again, I would have said it long ago. But I

m still not really sure what

s going on with you.


Nothing, Dad,

I tell him softly.

I have a boyfriend. That

s it.


It just seems like things are going so fast, Liv. My head was spinning last night. I couldn

t have prepared myself for that if your were twenty-one, much less the sixteen-year-old you are. Marriage? Were we really talking about marriage?


We

re not getting married anytime soon, Dad. Neither of us want that yet.


Well, he wants
something
,

he mumbles.


Daddy, I

m not ready, okay?

I realize my statement could be applied to the previous marriage conversation, but I think we both know I

m talking about sex.

And he knows I

m not. I think he just got caught up in the moment.


He

s not pressuring you?


Absolutely not, Dad. Never.


I

ll tell you what, the kid has some nerve. He

s not afraid of anything, is he?


He

s pretty afraid of you.


Could have fooled me,

he says.


He respects you more than you can imagine, Dad. He looks up to you.


I just don

t know how I feel about him,

he says honestly.

But then again, I

m not sure how I

d feel about any guy taking my little girl. I

m not ready to give you up yet.

He clears his throat.

I thought I

d be the only man in your life until you were at least thirty.


Dad,

I retort, knowing he

s kidding, but knowing I need to take a stand.

I really do love him. I just wish you

d try to understand that.


I

m trying, Tessa,

he sighs. I twist my ring around my finger nervously, waiting for him to say more. We drive about ten more miles before he speaks again.

I was Jon

s age, my first time. My girlfriend was your age. And I look back and think that–you know, I didn

t know a god damn thing at that age. What I felt for that girl was nothing compared to what I felt for other women, once I got older. And it certainly didn

t come anywhere close to what I felt for your mom, and still do, to this day.


It was just about sex–


Dad, I don

t really want to talk about this–


If you can

t talk about it, you

re not ready to do it–


What did I just tell you, Dad? I
told
you I

m not ready. I recognize that about myself. So please don

t make me talk about this with you. Not today. Not
any
day, really, but certainly not today.

BOOK: Contessa
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