“You can take what you’d like.” Aunt Bea next set a casserole dish covered in plastic wrap and filled with lasagna in front of her. “This is from last night if you want some. The rest will be for Uncle Bill’s poker night on Tuesday.”
Olivia got up from the table and hugged her aunt, almost knocking a bowl of chocolate pudding out of her hands. “Thank you for caring about me so much.”
“Anytime, sugar.” The older woman kissed Olivia on the cheek. “All I want is for you to be happy. And healthy too. Don’t work too hard, okay?”
“I’ll try not to.”
An hour later and carrying more food than she needed, Olivia walked into her house and set her bounty on the kitchen counter. She put the food away in her fridge and sat down on the gray love seat in her living room.
In the past she would get together with her friends to have lunch on the Sundays she didn’t eat with her aunt and uncle, but that had waned once Harper and Rusty got married. Sometimes those lunches lasted until evening, andOlivia wouldn’t return home until after six or seven o’clock. Then she would prepare a snack, look over her calendar for the week, and either read, study, or watch TV before going to bed. She didn’t mind that routine—she loved her friends, but she cherished her alone time.
Tonight was different, though. The hum of appliances mixed with the running air conditioner were the only sounds she heard. And if she was honest with herself, she was spending more evenings and nights alone than ever before. Before Anita married Tanner, she and her friend would get together for lunch in her office at the library, or at least talk on the phone. Now, days passed between conversations. The upside was that she was spending more time with Aunt Bea. The downside? Moments like this when she was acutely aware that she was by herself.
She wondered if her aunt was partly right. Was she hiding? She thought about all the opportunities she’d had to step out of her comfort zone during the past year, and how she had avoided every single one. Refusing to join the church softball team, even though Hayden had asked her twice. Flo continually trying to set her up with her nephew. RaeAnne occasionally inviting her to the lake for the weekend with her family.
And while she was digging deep into her thoughts, she had to acknowledge that even her closest friends had reached out to her when they had time—to go shopping, to come over for supper, or to just hang out at the Sunshine Café. She’d declined all of them.
Aunt Bea was right. It was easier to hide behind the familiar and benign than to face the elephant in the room—life was changing, and she didn’t like it. While her life was staying routinely the same, the relationships she’d depended on had altered.
But there was an even bigger catalyst for hiding out, one she hated to think about: Kingston. She’d been avoiding Anita because of him, and that had led her to avoid her other friends as well. The snowball continued to grow from there.
She popped up from her couch. If she was over him like she continually told herself, then why was she letting him control her life?
The mail from yesterday was still on the counter, and the dance lessons flyer lay on top, ready to go into her recycle bin. A phone number was printed at the bottom right-hand corner. Before she could change her mind, she picked up her cell and dialed the number. She wasn’t expecting anyone to answer on a Sunday night and intended to leave a message. But if she was in Ms.Abernathy’s shoes, she would prefer to have a head count before the lessons started.
“This is Sunny Abernathy of Ms.Abernathy’s School of Dance. I’m sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message.”
“Hi, Ms.Abernathy. Olivia Farnsworth. I wanted to let you know I’ll be at tomorrow’s lesson. See you there.” She hung up the phone and set it down on the counter.
There. She was being spontaneous. Well, sort of spontaneous, since Aunt Bea was the one who had brought up the lessons in the first place. But she had changed her mind, a rare occurrence.
She glanced at the calendar. The first lesson was on Vintage Movie Night. Strange. She usually didn’t forget a scheduled event, especially a long-standing one. DespiteKingston ghosting her, she hadn’t missed a single Vintage Movie Night, even though she kept looking around the theater to see if he would show up. He didn’t, and he hadn’t since their first—and last—random meeting there.
Maybe she should cancel and go to the next lesson.Or I can drop the idea altogether.She could continue with her usual plans and her schedule, and no one would know that for a split second she’d considered making a change. She could remain in her rut. She could continue to hide.
She pressed her lips together, crossed out Vintage Movie Night on her calendar, and replaced it with Dance Lesson. She wasn’t going to hide. Not anymore.
Chapter6
“Now there’s the Kingston I adore.”
Kingston cringed as his mother fawned over him, even reaching up on her tiptoes to ruffle his clean-cut hair.
“You look so handsome,” she marveled, her smile widening as she touched his freshly shaven chin. “I’m glad you’re over your grungy phase.”
Wow. He didn’t know he’d been looking shabby for so long. And it wasn’t a phase, just laziness and being too busy. But he smiled and stayed silent, having decided to keep conversation at a minimum during today’s brunch lest he slip and tell everyone about his forced sabbatical. He’d hemmed and hawed about informing his family, but when he had pulled into his parents’ driveway a few minutes ago, he’d decided against it. If and when the topic came up, then he’d discuss it. Fielding questions from his mother was the exact opposite of relaxing.
She was wearing an outfit more suited to a country-club event than a meal at home—flowing peach-colored pants witha loose-fitting, off-the-shoulder silk top in a slightly darker shade and neutral high-heeled sandals. She touched the pearl necklace she always wore during the Bedford Brunches with matching pearl earrings. A sleek blond-gray bob and light makeup made her look younger than her mid-sixties. “You look lovely today,” he said.
“Thank you, dear.” Her gaze dipped in a smoothly practiced, self-effacing gesture. “I just threw this on a few minutes ago.”
Sure you did.But he smiled. He loved his mother, quirks and all. Her heart was in the right place. Usually. “Dad in his typical spot?”
“Of course.” She led him from the foyer to the entrance of his father’s study. “He would have the Golf Channel on twenty-four seven if he could. Go on in. Your sisters and their spouses should be here soon. I need to check on the lobster tails.”
Kingston nodded and walked into the study, where his father sat reading a magazine while the TV announcers quietly commented on how the golfer on-screen had blown his drive. “Hey, Dad.”
His father looked up, then closed the magazine and stood as Kingston walked toward him. “Hi, son.” He shook Kingston’s hand heartily. “Glad to see you.” He scanned him up and down. “You look good. Life must be treating you well.”
