“To the mall. I bought new sheets and a comforter and some throw pillows.” Only now do I wonder if I overstepped, again. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, the room needs your touch. I bought everything in there ages ago.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and relief floods me.
“Great, I hope you like what I picked out. Before I forget, I’m having a night out with my brother tomorrow.” Now would be the time to mention my birthday, but instead I cringe.
“Okay, it’s been a while since you spent time with your brother. I’ll work late that night. Which will be a good thing—I won’t be thinking of work the next day, so we can just enjoy having the day off.” I hear a voice in the background. “All right, sweetheart, I have to go. I’ll be home around five thirty tonight.”
“Okay. Bye.” With a happy little sigh, I go back to making up the bed with the newly purchased sheets that smell yummy from a little extra softener in the wash I just ran them through.
Once the bed is made I climb on top. As I look around the room, it no longer feels empty, cold; I hope Rourke feels the same way and likes it. I think of how happy he sounded at me buying new sheets and a comforter. Then compare it to how cold and aloof he was yesterday until last night. Oh crap...I remember the moment when he turned cold.
It was when I talked about how I felt I hadn’t helped his mom enough, then he assured me she was happy with me but then I talked about “after I was gone.” Rourke was upset about me talking about leaving. I’m torn because there is no way I can sign on for another six months not only does it feel wrong, but Cheryl doesn’t need me. If my wildest dreams came true and Rourke wanted to continue, then of course I would come to visit Cheryl a couple of times a week, but I would want to continue to work, to maintain some independence.
Ever since the night Rourke called me a coward for sticking to working as a live-in companion, I’ve been thinking about how right he was. Out of curiosity I went online, and the list of high-paying jobs was nearly endless. It wasn’t just hospitals or retirement homes, it was doctor’s offices and schools and urgent care facilities. Several of the jobs even appealed to me. I know I’ll be ready for a change, I’m just not sure what. The last time I thought about it I thought I had four months to figure it out.
I’m dizzy from all the what-ifs. Closing my eyes, I slip into a restless nap. The ping of my cell phone wakes me almost an hour later. It’s a text from my sister.
Happy Birthday! I know it’s early but I’ll be crazy busy on Sunday with the girls and don’t want to forget. I sent you a gift card to the online store you love so much, check your email. Love you xoxo
The text brings out a little sad smile. It’s been almost a month since I last heard from my sister, and it was a text not much longer than this. She was hiding from me, from a late-night conversation we had almost two months ago. Stella was miserable and considering leaving Larry. He wouldn’t stop hounding her about having another baby even though she was tired of being pregnant for four years running. She was afraid to tell him that before she left the hospital she got a birth control implant in her arm.
I guess I was too excited, glad she saw his controlling ways and wanted out. Toward the end of the call she backed down, going on about the girls needing their father and how hard it would be to do it on her own. Stella ended the call saying never mind, forget it, she’d had too much wine since Larry was out. She’d originally called because she suspected he was out cheating on her and wondering, if she was relieved rather than mad, did that mean it was time to end her marriage?
I love my sister, but I can’t save her from herself. I just keep Gabe’s words in mind: we can’t live her life for her, we can only be here to support her when it goes wrong. With that in mind I respond to her text.
Thank you so much! Love you too! xoxo
I’m proud of myself for keeping it short, not asking if we could go out to lunch or dinner or even to see her for five minutes. None of the things I want to text, just what she wants to see.
***
Rourke
When I get home Olivia shows off the new items she bought. I make it clear I love the changes; even more, I love the way she made changes to make herself more comfortable, as if this were her space, not just mine. Coupled with her admitting last night that she was mine, I’m relieved. “I want to break in the new sheets,” I whisper in her ear, yet as she smiles there’s worry in her eyes she can’t hide. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” Her hand runs over my cheek.
“You’re a bad liar. Talk to me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m worried about my sister. I’m fine. Really.”
Fuck, tension eases out of me in a rush as I see the truth in her eyes. I run a hand through her hair, then pull her head back to force her eyes to mine. “Your little sister that you helped raise. The one who was married at nineteen and popped out four kids in four years. Why are you worried about her?” Her brown eyes go wide. “After how badly the first background check went, I ordered a more thorough one. It didn’t uncover anything else I really felt I needed to know. Other than I would love to beat the shit out of your ex, but I’m thinking your brother got there first so I’ll have to make do. Talk to me.”
“I feel as if I failed her. She’s in a marriage with a controlling asshole and she’s miserable but because she has four kids, no degree and no work experience, she feels stuck. I just feel so helpless—this is all my fault and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”
“Hey, this is not all your fault. Don’t think like that.”
“But it is. Connor was controlling from the beginning, but at first I didn’t see it as controlling. I thought he was being strong and protective but he wasn’t. Then when I recognized it for what it was, I kept smiling through it all to get through the day until my sister was out of the house. I showed her it was okay to put up with having a controlling asshole for a husband.”
“Sweetheart, I have no doubt your ex was controlling and manipulative, but I also have no doubt there were times he couldn’t have pushed you to do something you didn’t want to do with a wrecking ball. You are a strong, wickedly intelligent woman. I know you got it from your mother. Your sister was young, but she wasn’t young enough to miss seeing it all and how it was done.
“From the report I got back, your sister played it the way I originally thought you did. Getting married young to have someone else take care of her. Despite what you think, you wanted support, not someone to take care of you, or you wouldn’t have enrolled in school immediately and worked while you also took care of your sister. Your sister stopped going to classes the minute she found out she was pregnant. It’s not your fault your sister wanted someone to take care of her and picked the wrong guy. If she’s smart enough to know four years in she needs to get the fuck out, there were hints from the very beginning.”
Olivia closes her eyes. “She was excited about going away to college, but she wasn’t excited about actually going to school. When she was younger she used to talk about having a half dozen kids and being a mom, how she couldn’t imagine a better life. I got too excited and helpful about her leaving him when she mentioned it, and now she’s avoiding me. It worries me, her not having anyone to talk to about what she’s going through.”
“She has to come to a resolution all on her own. If she isn’t ready, there’s nothing you could say to make her change her mind. Give her some time, let her know you’re here for her if she needs anything.”
Nuzzling into my neck, she sighs. “You sound just like Gabe.”