Olivia (45 page)

The painting is abstract, to say the least, and I
think if Granna was still here, she’d say it was a companion piece
to Big Grey Mess, a painting I’d done that she didn’t like. I had a
feeling she’d like this one, though. It seems as if every color and
sound and smell of spring is represented. I take a few steps back
and marvel in the first painting I’ve completed in nearly nine
months.

Mom knocks on the doors, and I invite her in.

“
Honey, I think Jon’s called a few
times,” she says, only peeking in through the french
doors.

“
What time is it?”

“
Nearly six,” she says.

“
Really?” Jon and I normally meet
up around five on Saturdays. “I completely lost track of
time.”

“
I didn’t want to disturb you,” she
says, and her eyes drift to the canvas in front of me.

“
You can see it,” I tell her. I
angle the easel toward the doorway since we’re losing the natural
light of the sun. The colors don’t look as pure, but it’s still
pretty.

“
It’s lovely.” She barely gets
those two words out before she starts to cry.

“
Mom, don’t,” I laugh at her,
tearing up again myself. She envelops me in a tight hug and holds
me for what seems like minutes. When she lets go, though, I miss
her. “I didn’t think I could do it,” I tell her softly.

“
I knew you could,” she says,
diverting her attention back to the painting. “That would look
beautiful in the foyer of the Art Room, you know?”

“
Next to where you always put the
fresh flowers?”

She nods.

“
Well... I’ll think about it,” I
tell her, not ready to let go of it so soon. “Mom, I want Jon to
see it.”

“
Okay,” she says.

“
Can we stay a little longer? And
I’ll invite him over for a minute?”

“
Why don’t you ask him over,” she
suggests, “and I’ll go pick up your brother and a pizza and we can
all have dinner together here since Jacks and his parents are
stopping for dinner on their way back to the city. Is that
okay?”

“
That sounds great.”

“
Then you can go watch your movie
after that.”

“
Thanks, Mom.”

Jon shows up twenty minutes after I call. Francisco
notifies me that he’s here, and doesn’t give me any trouble about
it. Mom obviously told our doorman to expect him.

“
Where’s your Mom?” he asks even
before saying hello.

“
She went to pick up Trey from
Chris and Anna’s, and then she’s picking up dinner for
us.”

“
How long do we have?” He wraps his
arms around me and kisses my cheek, then my ear, as he kicks the
door closed.

“
Not enough time for that,” I tell
him, pushing him away gently.

“
I’ve missed you,” he says before
kissing me slowly.

I want to get carried away, but I know we can’t.
“You saw me last night,” I giggle.

“
It’s never enough.”

“
I know,” I agree. “I have
something to show you.”

“
Are you wearing it?”

“
You didn’t even notice!” He pulls
back and eyes my smock. “Yes.”

He takes the bottom hem of it in his hands, rubbing
the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes drift to the
open doors to my studio. “Do you have something to show me in
there?”

I nod coyly.

“
Show me,” he suggests, putting his
hand on the small of my back and following me into the adjoining
room. I step away from him when he reaches the canvas, and watch
for his expression. “It’s colorful,” he says with a
laugh.

“
Do you like it?” I ask
him.

“
It... look at it, Livvy,” he says,
grabbing me by the shoulders and positioning me between him and the
painting. “Do you see anything?” I can hear laughter in his
voice.

“
I see colors,” I say, squinting my
eyes in an effort to see what he finds funny.

“
That part there,” he starts,
motioning to the bottom right corner, “looks like a pink
muppet.”

“
No, it doesn’t!” I laugh. He steps
in front of me and looks at me in disbelief.

“
Fur,” he says, pointing to a round
shape with jagged edges, “and eyes,” he adds. Suddenly I see it and
start laughing.

“
And there’s a hand!”

“
Right?” he says. “It’s an adorable
little pink muppet, baby!”

“
Well, that’s what I meant to
paint,” I tell him seriously, unable to keep a straight face. “I
painted a muppet,” I chuckle lightly. “My grand return as a painter
is a freaking muppet!”

“
It’s the cutest–”

“
Shut up!” I yell at him, playfully
smacking him in the chest. “Mom thought it was lovely.”

“
She’s your mom,” he reminds me.
“But all kidding aside, it is, Liv. It has a quirky resemblance to
a puppet, but if we turn it this way,” he says, picking up the
painting carefully by the corners of the canvas and flipping it on
its side, “it looks like... a new beginning. Like
springtime.”

“
That’s really what I was going
for,” I admit with a blush.

“
I see that now,” he says softly.
“I’m so proud of you, Livvy.”

“
Thank you.”

“
You
look
like springtime,” he adds, running his fingers through my hair. “It
could be the paint on your brow, but you look more alive than I’ve
seen you in months. Those bright eyes,” he says, sounding
distracted and looking even more so. He kisses me quickly, moving
one hand to my lower back and keeping the other on the nape of my
neck, kneading his fingers into my skin in both places. I tuck my
fingers under the waistline of his jeans, pulling him as close to
me as he can get.

Out of breath, he tucks his head into my shoulder
and I turn my head, pressing my ear against his heart. “Baby, I am
so proud of you.”

“
Thank you,” I say again putting my
arms around his body and holding him tightly. We separate quickly
when we hear my brother’s laughter coming from the
hallway.

“
Let me help you with that
eyebrow,” he says with an adorable smirk, taking my hand in his and
leading me to the kitchen. He finds a paper towel and heats up some
water.

“
Hey, Mom!”

“
Hi, Emi.”

“
Hey, you two,” she says, holding
the door for Trey who’s carefully carrying the pizza. Jon dips the
paper towel beneath the warm stream and dabs my left brow. “Well?”
she asks, looking at Jon.

“
She’s back,” he says with a smile,
pressing harder against my forehead to get the paint
off.

“
He says it looks like a muppet,” I
tell her, still amused by his interpretation. He chuckles, and
doesn’t deny it. “A cute one, though.”

“
Right,” he adds, finally cutting
off the water and setting down the towel. He runs one hand though
my hair and presses his lips to the newly-cleaned brow, holding
them there for a few seconds. My heart speeds up as my cheeks turn
bright pink, assuming my mom’s watching, but she isn’t.

“
Are you hungry?”

“
Starving,” I admit, realizing I
haven’t eaten today.

“
Me, too,” Jon says.

“
Sorry it took so long,” Mom says.
“When Trey heard Jon was having dinner with us, he had to go home
and get his mitt.” She looks at me warily as Jon and I both sit
down at the table.

“
I haven’t been to the park today,”
I tell her.

“
It’s the perfect evening,” Jon
adds.

“
Are you sure you don’t mind?” she
asks.

“
Pleeeease?” my brother
begs.

“
I’d love to play some catch,” Jon
says, ruffling my brother’s hair.

“
That won’t mess with your
movie?”

“
I haven’t even looked to see
what’s playing,” I tell her. “Maybe we can go back to the house and
watch something,” I suggest, looking at Jon.

“
If Jon wants to see Jack’s
parents...”

“
Your grandparents are here?” I
nod. “I’d love to say hi.”

“
Even if that means we stay in?”
Jon knows that means we’ll have no privacy tonight.

“
Sure. It’ll be a Holland family
night. This could be fun. And maybe a chance to get your dad back
on my side.”

“
Jacks likes you,” Mom
says.

“
I don’t know,” he hedges. “I
haven’t seen him since the morning after we, uh...” Jon looks at my
brother, but continues. “We fell asleep in your room,” he says a
little bit more softly to me.

“
And he let you stay and have
breakfast with us,” my mother reminds him.

“
Yes, but he didn’t say a word,”
Jon laughs.

“
What could he say?”

“
Oh, lots,” Jon mumbles. “He’s said
a lot before.”

“
You both have a good, open, honest
line of communication. He may not like what you have to say all the
time, Jon, but trust me. He appreciates that you say it. He likes
people to be direct. You don’t beat around the bush.”

“
Dad thought you were the reason I
wasn’t painting,” I add. “I hadn’t talked to him about it...
because I didn’t want him to know the real reason. But I told him
what was going on. He knows it wasn’t you.”

“
What made it okay to start today?”
he asks.

“
He did,” I tell him. “He just knew
what to say.” I shrug my shoulders, hoping that doesn’t make Jon
feel inadequate. It’s certainly not meant to, and by the smile on
his face, I don’t think he takes it that way.

He takes my hand in his under the table and squeezes
it, leaning into me and kissing me quickly. “He does that a
lot.”

Mom smiles at both of us, passing out slices of
pizza onto our plates.

After dinner, we head down to the park, and within
just a few minutes, my dad shows up with both of his brothers,
Chris, my three cousins, and a bat. Even Eli is here, although his
normal inclination is to stay shut in his room. Finn walks up a
short time later, but stays away from me after I shoot him a
warning glare.

Mom and I sit in the grass, watching them set up
their makeshift baseball game. Jackets are tossed down to be used
as bases, and Jon even takes off his dress shirt, tossing it to me
and letting his tattoo peek out from beneath his undershirt. When I
see him like that, it makes me wish that I hadn’t sacrificed our
alone time tonight.

My dad takes the helm of the ‘adult’ team, and
recruits Finn to play with them. Jon corrals all of the younger
kids, and takes his spot in the middle of the ‘diamond,’ ready to
pitch after he assigns Danny to the catcher’s post, Stevie to first
base, Trey to third, and Eli–the oldest, next to Jon–to second base
and the outfield.

Even though Dad’s on the other side, Mom’s cheering
for Jon’s team since Trey is playing for him.

“
I guess Grandma and Grandpa needed
a break,” Mom comments. “I’m sure this has been a long day for
them.”

Chris and Matty bat first and second, both of them
getting on bases. My dad is the third at bat, and by the time he
gets up to home plate, a small crowd has gathered around us,
watching our game. A few women start to call his name, which
prompts my mom to stand up and move a little closer to the field.
It makes me smile, Mom, making her presence known. If she’d been
half a world away, there would still be no chance for any other
woman to get my dad’s attention.

I get up and stand next to her, realizing the
showdown that’s about to happen.

“
Who’re you rooting for, Tessa?”
Dad asks me, swinging the bat by his side.

“
No consorting with the other team,
Olivia!” Jon calls out, a huge grin on his face.

“
Play, already!” I yell to them
both. My dad shakes his head, teasing me with his disapproval. Jon
stretches his arm and back muscles as he waits for my dad to be
ready. When he’s poised with the bat, Jon launches the ball toward
him. Dad strikes on the first pitch, resulting in a few giggles
from our audience. His cheeks turn red.

“
You’re gonna let that kid get the
best of you?” my uncle Chris says to him. “Where’s that state
champ?”

“
He’s out of practice,” Dad
comments, getting set once again. He hits the second ball, but it
flies backwards, and Steven calls the foul. “Whose side are you
on?” he asks his brother.

“
A foul’s a foul,
Jacks.”

“
All right,” Dad calls to Jon. “I
was just testing you. Show me what you got.”

Jon looks at me, lifting his eyebrows. I shrug my
shoulders, giving him the go ahead to play as hard as he can. He
winds up and hurls the ball quickly. Again, we hear the ball
against the bat, but it pops up high in the air. Jon’s eyes are
trained on it as Dad runs to first base. He catches it easily,
getting Dad out, and throws it quickly to Danny, who tags my uncle
Chris before he can cross home plate.

“
Throw it back here!” Jon yells to
my cousin, his eyes shifting quickly from Danny to Matty, who’s
trying to steal third base. Danny’s aim is spot on, and as Jon
moves toward the base, he catches it and tosses it underhanded to
Trey, who has no trouble catching it. Matty slows slightly,
pretending to run from my brother, but he allows him to tag him out
anyway. Jon and his team cheer, getting all three outs on that one
play.