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Authors: Daniela Reyes

Delayed (14 page)

BOOK: Delayed
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Nick tried remembering how Mimi might have looked to Olivia. She’d been nine back then, shorter, and more playful, more child and less teenager.
 

“She’s thirteen now,” he said while trying to remove his wet sneakers. They sloshed as he pulled them off his feet.
 

Olivia removed her flats and set them next to his shoes.

“Thirteen. That’s how old we were when we met, right?”
 

“Fourteen,” he corrected.
 

“Same thing. Once a teenager always a teenager.”
 

Mimi emerged from the bathroom, towels draped over each arm. She handed one to Olivia, then Nick.
 

“So why the reappearance after four years?” she asked Olivia.
 

Olivia cleared her throat, looking to Nick for an answer, but when he couldn’t provide one she spoke.
 

“We haven’t really been meeting on purpose. It’s been random.”
 

Mimi nodded. She squinted her eyes. “You can borrow some of my clothes if you want. I can put your things in the dryer.”
 

Olivia shook her head. “I brought a suitcase. But I’ll take you up on the offer to use your dryer.”
 

His sister’s eyes widened. “Exactly how long are you staying?”
 

Nick rolled his eyes. He rarely did, his mom had always said it was a rude habit. “Mimi, don’t be nosy. Go finish whatever it was that you were doing.”
 

She crossed her arms. “I’m finished. By the way what are you feeding me for lunch?”
 

Nick stared at the clock. It was almost three. He had gone to the gasoline station to pick up a wrap for the two of them.
 

“Let me help Olivia get settled. Why don’t we order a pizza?”
 

His sister squinted her eyes again. “Fine. I’ll make a call. I doubt anyone’s delivering with this weather.”
 

Olivia laughed as Mimi disappeared into the kitchen. “I have a bag of snacks. We can survive on that.” She pulled a plastic bag out of her carry-on.
 

Nick felt his stomach grumble. It was then that he remembered they still had leftover sandwich making supplies.
 

“Actually we might have some fuel after all. You should go change. I’ll make us something.”
 

Olivia nodded. “I might be a while. I have to call a few places, and then explain to my mom why I’m in your house. So take your time.”
 

He helped her move her suitcase to the guest room. She began to rummage through it before he even closed the door.
 

Mimi was in the kitchen when he returned. She leaned against a counter, arms crossed.
 

“You need to get her number this time. If you don’t you’re going to force me to have to ask her for it.”
 

Nick turned sharply. “And why would I do that?”

His sister sighed. “Because if you don’t, she might actually disappear into oblivion this time.”
 

16

June 18, 2008

Her mom gave her a lecture of the century, before calming down enough to ask a question.
 

“You’re safe, though? I don’t want you staying at that boy’s house for too long. As soon as the storm passes get the car issue sorted through.
 

Olivia wanted to tell her mom that she felt about a hundred percent safer with Nick than at the storage place.

“I’m fine mom. I promise. I’ll leave soon. I’m sorry I didn’t call before, but don’t worry anymore, okay? I’ll call you when I check into the hotel.”
 

There was a long pause on the phone. “Liv, I’m sorry. It’s my fault you had to travel alone. I should have come and we should be heading out for our vacation.”
 

Olivia had wanted to blame her dad somehow, but this time she knew it wasn’t his fault. Her mom had chosen to stay behind for her business. It was the right choice; yet, it still made her feel a flash of anger.
 

“It’s not your fault. I have to go. Nick’s making a late lunch.”
 

“Love you.”
 

“Love you mom.”
 

The line went dead and Olivia was left to think in the silence of the guest room. There was a single bed, dressed in a flower-patterned comforter. The entire room smelled like the beach in spring, airy and new.
 

She zipped up her suitcase, throwing aside the wet clothes she would have to pack into her carry-on. She’d chosen to wear gym shorts and a long loose t-shirt. Once the storm passed, all she would have to worry about would be comfort while cleaning out the storage unit.

Olivia opened the door, revealing an empty hallway. Good. No one had been waiting outside. She walked through, slowly, taking the time to stop and look at the framed pictures on the walls.
 

There were many shots of an elderly couple, a grayed hair woman and a man who seemed to get tanner in every picture. There were some with the couple and a teenage girl, who looked like a replica of Mimi.
 

“That’s my Grandpa Felix, and Grandma Joan,” a voice said.
 

Olivia spun around. Mimi stood behind her, holding a laundry basket out. “They look like a lovely couple. Is the little girl your mom?”
 

Mimi took the wet clothes without asking, tossing them inside. “Yeah. My grandparents got married when she was my age. They made her the flower girl.”
 

“So they’re both not her biological parents?” Olivia found herself asking, despite it not being any of her business.
 

Mimi didn’t seem to mind. “My mom was born in Peru, her mom died from cancer when she was eight. My Grandpa visited Shepton, he met Grandma Joan and they fell in love. Blah blah blah.”
 

“You’re quite the little cynic,” Olivia blurted out. “I didn’t mean that.”
 

Nick’s sister shrugged. “I am. By the way, Nick’s been done with the sandwiches for about fifteen minutes. But he’s waiting for you to walk into the kitchen, so he can pretend he just finished. I’m going be in my room. Let me know if you need anything. Other than that, you two have the house to yourselves.”
 

“We’re not… it’s not like that with your brother, and me” she corrected.
 

Mimi sighed. She was already walking away. “It never is.”
 

Olivia shook off the strangeness of the conversation. She walked to the kitchen, right into the scene that had been described to her. Nick stood before a finished plate of ham and cheese sandwiches, frozen with a final slice of bread in his hand, and a knife in the other.
 

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked. He jumped at her words, dropping the knife onto the counter. He managed to hold on to the slice of bread.
 

“I was just about to finish,” he said. Then placed the slice on top of what he made seem like a newly made sandwich.
 

Olivia tried to hide a grin. She approached him, her empty stomach jumping as she beheld the tiny feast. “They look delicious. Sorry I took so long, I had to make a few calls to get everything back in order. And my mom was worried that you might be a serial killer.”
 

His dark eyes widened. “Does she still think that?”
 

She shook her head. “I think I convinced her otherwise. Do you need help setting the table?”
 

Nick bit his lip. “I was thinking we could eat in the living room, less dishes for us to do afterward.”
 

Olivia nodded. “That sounds comfortable. Do we need cups?”
 

He pointed to the coffee table. “I set out some already. We have water and lemonade. You can have one or both.”
 

The two of them made their way to the living room. She watched in amusement as he tried to balance the plate of sandwiches on his hand.
 

The loveseat was long, big enough for each of them to sit in a corner without having to lose their personal space. Olivia kept to the right, and he to the left. She didn’t wait for an invitation to eat, as soon as the plate was on the coffee table, her hand was already in search of a sandwich.

“How long has it been since you last ate?” Nick asked. His tone held curiosity and a subdued amusement.
 

Olivia scooted back into her seat. She took a bite before answering, hunger had prevailed over any civility. She swallowed. “It’s been like eight hours.” She took another bite.
 

Nick held his sandwich, watching her. “What about the snacks they give on the plane?”
 

She crinkled her nose and gulped down lemonade. “Those don’t count.”

He nodded, and began to chew away as well. He reached over and turned the TV on. “I just want to check the weather channel.”
 

A woman flashed on the screen, wearing a light white blazer, her perfect bob of meteorologist hair was immune to the Florida humidity.
 

“A sever thunderstorm warning and multiple tornado and flood warnings are in effect for Shepton until eight o’clock tonight. We advise you to stay off the roads and find a safe place to remain indoors.”
 

Olivia stared at the screen, wondering how the weather channel hadn’t reported the storms when she was checking the temperature in Shepton before flying out.

“Eight o’clock? That’s another five hours,” she noted, mostly to herself.
 

Nick turned, sandwich in hand. “You’re welcome to stay here.”
 

She felt a headache coming on. I might call the rental company again, and see if they can send a taxi from the next town.”
 

The last thing Olivia wanted was to overstay her visit. She barely knew this boy as it was, and her list of errands to run was only getting longer.
 

“We can just relax, watch some TV. There are board games in the linen closet,” he suggested casually.
 

“No board games,” she said, “I lose at everything, no matter what it is.”
 

He laughed at that. Which in turn made her smile through her last bite of sandwich. “Well then we can just sit here and relax, like true couch potatoes. Five hours will breeze by, and then I can drive you to wherever you need to go.”
 

“You don’t have to,” she said. “I feel bad enough for making you run in the rain and wait outside the storage place. Now you’ve fed me and are letting me stay here for five hours.”
 

“I don’t mind,” he quickly said. “Besides you paid for my gas, so I owe you a favor.”
 

“That was a birthday gift,” she said.
 

He picked up another sandwich. Olivia followed his lead.
 

“So when’s my birthday?” Nick asked her.
 

She knew he’d mentioned it once, but it was lost to the past. “You were born in March…”
 

He shook his head, “Close. Try again.”
 

“April…”
 

“Mmm, closer.”
 

“May.”
 

He gave her a smile.
 

“May. You were born May 1?”
 

Another shake of his head, and the game went on for ten more questions.
 

“May 3?” Olivia asked. Her stomach felt full of overly sweetened lemonade and sandwiches.
 

Nick nodded. “Yep. May 3, 1990.”
 

She squinted her eyes at him. “Fine. When’s my birthday then?”
 

“June 3,” he responded, without any hesitation. “It was the day we met.”
 

Impressive. She hadn’t expected him to remember the exact date. The thought made her recall the day at the beach house. It had been one of the darker days in her life. Both her parents had forgotten she had been born on that day, and she’d had to spend it at a funeral ceremony. But at the end of the day, Nick, the short and strange boy that he was, had remembered and wished her a happy birthday.
 

“So we’re both eighteen, but you’re older,” she said.
 

He nodded again. “That means you’re going to college in the fall, right?”
 

It sounded weird to admit, the fact she was now a full-fledged college student. “Yeah. I’m majoring in Dramatic Arts and Musical Theater. What about you?”
 

“Political Science. My major sounds completely boring next to yours,” he noted.
 

She smiled. “It’s not boring if you love it. So, why Political Science? Are you going with the law school track or the future president of the United States track?”
 

Nick’s expression lost its easygoingness. “Neither. I don’t know what I want to do afterward.”
 

“Then why make it your major?”
 

He shrugged. “I wanted to go undeclared, but my girlfriend convinced me to sign up for it. It was her major too, so I trusted her opinion.”
 

The word girlfriend made Olivia scoot back on the loveseat. She didn’t know why, but she hadn’t expected him to be in a relationship. Nick just seemed like the type of guy who was perpetually single. Not in the live in your parents’ basement sort of way, but in a different sense. She didn’t have a clue why it was so difficult to believe he had a girlfriend. She’d teased him about it before for that very reason.
 

“Oh. Well maybe the two of you will find something to do together after you graduate. You two can get married and become a political power couple.”
 

Nick shook his head. “I meant to say ex-girlfriend. She broke up with me about a month ago,” his voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Sorry.”
 

“It’s okay,” Olivia said. “We have five hours to kill. I don’t mind.” Something inside of her eased at the news that he was still single.
 

BOOK: Delayed
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