“How are you doing, Oli?”
“Me? I’m fine, why?” The confusion in his voice is disheartening. “I mean, sometimes it’s frustrating waiting for Caroline to make a noticeable improvement. Her parents say they see it, even her doctors say she’s doing better, but I don’t see it. I just wonder how long it’s going to take.”
“How long what’s going to take?”
“For her to understand.”
“Understand what?”
I hear the frustration in his sigh. “To understand the ramifications of what she did and that she needs to let me go!”
My body goes rigid. His icy voice holds so much bitterness and unleashed anger.
“I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to—”
“Oliver, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. The whole reason I’m here is to protect you from all of this shit. That’s why I never mention it.”
“But if you want to talk about it—”
“No! I don’t want or need to talk about it. I just … I just need you. I need you to tell me about your day and Rosenberg, and the wedding plans that are driving you crazy. That’s the life I want and if I can’t have it right now, I at least want to imagine it, if only for a little while every night on the phone with you.”
I wipe the tears he can’t see. He doesn’t want my pity. I get that. I’ve been there. But Oliver is stuck. He’s in this dark hole and he can’t find his way out. And it doesn’t matter how many helping hands reach down to pull him back into the light, because he can’t see them either. So I do all I can. I give him a glimpse of the life he’s chasing.
“I don’t think my English instructor’s first language is English. I mean, really? Shouldn’t that be some sort of requirement? Rosenberg has taken a real liking to your old running shoes. How crazy is that? Aren’t dogs supposed to have a heightened sense of smell?”
Oli laughs and if there weren’t thousands of miles between us I’d swear he’s laughing through his own tears.
“Alex is the typical Bridezilla, only to be trumped by her mom’s wedding OCD behavior. Which, by the way, if you’re an etiquette snob then you might as well know now that your invitation is being sent to your house here.”
I pause. He doesn’t respond.
“You’ll be at the wedding, right?”
“I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss seeing you dressed to the nines for anything.”
“Well, Mr. Konrad, the feeling is mutual. You flew off with all your sexy suits. I have yet to see you wearing one. I’m wondering if it will replace my leather work boots fantasy.”
“Fantasy? You can’t call it a fantasy if you’ve lived it. And as I recall, I made that fantasy a reality.” His voice drops a notch to fuck-me-against-the-truck sexy, and I have to squeeze my legs together.
“Yes, you certainly did. Goodnight, Oli. Love you.”
“But we were just getting started.”
“Exactly. If I don’t go now, I’ll never get this chapter read.”
“Cold shower it is. Goodnight.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Phone Sex
Oliver
I’m in Hell and I can’t tell anyone. So if I don’t make it out I hope Vivian knows that this was how far I was willing to go for her. My time with Caroline is accomplishing nothing, except feeding my hatred for her. How can she be so self-absorbed? Her refusal to make real progress is just for the attention. She probably knows I’m leaving as soon as she’s stable again, which means I’m not the incentive to get better that her parents think I am.
The job is the only thing that’s saving me right now. But even it’s starting to wear on me. Too many people know about my past. It didn’t make national news, but it was a big deal around here. I have clients with their own problems, who think their four-hundred dollar an hour time spent with me should be used to console their wounded attorney. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Brice and Mitchell are giving me all the female clients just to see if I break.
Today, the day most people pause and give thanks, I’m with Caroline, Doug, and Lily. Nothing beats Thanksgiving during visiting hours at a mental hospital. Caroline looks quite pleased that I’m here and in turn, so do Doug and Lily.
“How are Mom and Dad?” Caroline asks.
I look at Doug and Lily then back at her. She must be digressing, delusional again, because she can’t recognize her own parents.
She stares at me. “Oliver, your parents, I asked how they’re doing.”
My fingers dig into the arm of the chair as my jaw clenches. I’m used to people baiting me. I’ve experienced it with my job. Hell, I’ve counseled clients on how to stay calm on the witness stand during cross-examination, but all that knowledge and self-control is lost. I can’t find it in the very moment I need it most.
“Mom and Dad?” I grit through my teeth.
“Oliver—” Doug stands.
I hold up my hand to stop him.
“When you gave them a grandchild, my mom said you could call them that.”
“Oliver,” Lily pleads in desperation.
I ignore her.
“But I’m pretty damn sure that you lost that privilege when you suffocated their granddaughter with a fucking pillow!”
My chest heaves with contempt as I stand over her. Caroline brings her knees to her chest and cries, breaking the silence I caused among the other patients and visitors. The more she cries the less I hear. The blood pulsing in my ears is deafening.
I’m being ushered out by some guy in white scrubs, but I’m not resisting. In fact, by the time we reach the main floor I’m sprinting out of the building. The automatic doors open as I approach and the cool fall breeze greets me. My lungs draw in air with marathon exhaustion as I hunch over with my hands on my knees.
I hate her so much.
This was a mistake of epic proportions. I should be in Boston sitting around the dinner table with my family … with Vivian. Instead, I’m weaving through traffic in a race to Doug and Lily’s in a fucking rental car. Why didn’t I drive my car out here? Oh that’s right, because I wasn’t supposed to be here this long!
Staying with them is no longer an option. I have to get the hell out of here. I pack my bags and drive to an extended-stay hotel. What I really want is to purchase a one-way ticket back to Boston and say goodbye to Portland forever. I need nothing more than to crawl in bed with Vivian and let the rest of the world fall into oblivion. However, what I’m going to do is stay just long enough to make sure Brice and Mitchell can handle the clients I’ve taken over for Valerie that will require longer services.
“Hey, happy Thanksgiving!” Just the sound of her voice alone takes the edge off.
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too. I really needed to hear your voice.”
“Is everything okay?”
I fall back on the hotel bed and close my eyes. “It is now.”
“I figured you’d still be at the hospital.”
“She wasn’t having a good day, so I left early.” I’m a cowardly ass for lying. I don’t know how I’m going to go back home and tell Vivian that all this time away from her has been for nothing.
“That’s too bad. I was hoping for your sake she’d have a better day.”
“Are your parents there?”
“Yes, our moms are in the kitchen making magic. I just stuck the pies in the oven.”
“You made the pies?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, babe. Yes, I made pumpkin and pecan.”
“Are they baking or reheating?”
“Baking, you idiot. Your mom helped me make the perfect crusts and my mom supervised the filling stage. So as long as the timer on the oven doesn’t fail, I will have bragging pictures to send to both you and Alex.”