I didn’t know what had her so worked up, but I knew it wasn’t good.
“Brett!” she exclaimed.
I heard my front door slam before her panicked footfalls echoed off my marble floors.
“Down the hallway to the left. It’ll bring you right into the kitchen,” I exclaimed.
I heard her practically running before she careened around the corner. She was visibly upset. I stood as she came over to the breakfast nook, her eyes bloodshot and the bags underneath them heavy with lack of sleep. She was wrapped in a robe. She hadn’t even changed out of her pajamas. Her hair was piled high on top of her head, and her glasses were crooked, stained with the tears she had cried behind them.
I sat down with her when she sat, then pushed an empty mug toward her. I let her make her coffee and take a long sip before I drew in a deep breath.
“Talk to me,” I said.
She nodded, spinning the mug around on the tabletop. “My mother called me yesterday. Wanted me to come over because she said it was urgent.”
“Is your mother all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s um… she’s fine. She uh…”
I reached over and wrapped my hand around her wrist, feeling how much she was trembling.
“Take a breath. You’re safe here,” I said.
“You have a beautiful home,” she whispered.
I grinned. “I’ll give you the grand tour. After you talk.”
Olivia nodded. “My father and my mother have apparently been speaking for the last two months.”
My eyebrows rose, but I stayed silent.
“She um… she told me he expressed interest in talking with me. Speaking with me, after nineteen years of radio silence. And she gave me his name and number, like she thought talking with him would do me some sort of good,” she said.
“You don’t think it would?” I asked.
Her eyes lifted to meet mine. “You think it would?”
“I think I listened to you rant enough about it during our college days to know you’d like answers. That there are things you wished you could say to him, and now you have the chance.”
“You sound like Mom.”
“Then maybe your mother is right,” I said.
She pulled her wrist away from me and shook her head. She took a few sips of her coffee before mindlessly reaching for a piece of toast. She bit into it, licking her lips as I sat there. Waiting for her to open up more. Waiting for her to talk like I knew she needed to.
And even in her rattled state, she was beautiful.
“I’m sorry for dumping this into your lap on your day off,” Olivia murmured.
“You needed someone to talk to. It isn’t an issue. You can come to me anytime. You know this,” I said.
“You really think I should call him?”
“If you want my personal opinion, yes. I think this is a rare opportunity not many people get with fathers that walked out on them. But you do need to be prepared for the fact that he might be looking to redeem himself.”
She snickered. “Redeem himself. Like he could do that.”
“It’s an angle. You say him and your mother have been talking for a few months now. Right?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s what she said.”
“Then, maybe she’s doing more than ranting to him. Maybe they’re trying to repair things between them so she can move on.”
“With Bernard,” she murmured.
“Who?”
Olivia sighed heavily. “This guy she’s been seeing for a couple years now. Bernard Whitsett.”
“Well, good for her.”
“Yeah. If that’s what you think.”
“Do you not like him?”
“I don’t know. He just rubs me the wrong way,” she said.
“Maybe it isn’t him that rubs you the wrong way,” I said.
“What?”
“Maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s father figures, in general.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Think about it. You don’t have a relationship with your father. It’s been just your mother raising you all your life. And now, this man comes in and he’s stepping into that fatherly role, which automatically makes you think he’ll leave eventually, too. Maybe you don’t have an issue with him. Maybe you’re just bracing for him to leave, too.”
She shook her head. “No. I think it’s just him.”
I grinned. “Okay, Olivia.”
“Don’t use that tone. Don’t do that.”
“Okay.”
She narrowed her eyes at me before taking another sip of coffee.
“I think you should call your father. I think you should talk with him, and then I think you should hear him out. If anything, it’ll give you closure. Something I know you don’t have,” I said.
“You think talking to him would really give me that?” Olivia asked.
“I do. I really do. And if there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s you.”
I watched her smile softly for the first time since she had arrived, and it clenched my gut.
“Thank you for letting me come over,” she said again.
“And just like I said, it’s not a problem. You’re welcome anytime.”
“I believe I was promised a grand tour,” she said, grinning.