“Are we sure that is a good idea?” she replies quietly.
“Yes, trust me,” I say and when she doesn’t reply I ask, “Do you trust me, Ollie?”
There is a brief pause in her response and my heart rate increases, worried that I’ve overstepped the invisible boundary we set tonight.
“Come on, let's get one more drink, I want to hear more about that park you love.”
We continue to talk until we hear the barback yell from the doorway to get moving, and realize it’s already almost 2 a.m and Fishy’s is closing.
It took some coaxing but she finally agreed to stay at the bed and breakfast under one condition. She needs to be back at her house by nine to help her dad and brothers with something on the farm. Except it’s already two in the morning and if we have to leave by eight, that means she is getting a maximum of six hours of sleep. I bet she is going to be a monster in the morning, without at least six or seven hours of sleep. She always was grouchy in the morning without sleep or a vat of coffee and I don’t think she is going to get either. Whereas, I’m lucky if I get seven hours of sleep over three days.
We begin walking to the bed and breakfast through the frosted pathway. The walkway from the bar to the bed and breakfast was shoveled yesterday, but there is already a dusting of snow covering the walkway tonight.
The warm orange light coming from the steamed-over front window, paired with the smiling college student on winter break sitting behind the desk, and the welcoming atmosphere is why I’ve always loved coming to the bed and breakfast. The young man’s smile grows when he realizes who we are, a perk of a small town, everyone knows everyone and will greet you with a smile no matter what.
“How can I help you?” he asks kindly, sounding a bit tired. We are likely the only people he’s seen in the last five hours, and I’d be willing to bet he wasn’t expecting anyone to walk in at this hour.
“We need a room with two beds for tonight, please,” I reply, trying to emphasize the two beds part as quietly as possible. It has been eons since Ollie and I spent the night together, and there is a sudden sense of nervousness and anxiety that rushes over me that I did not expect twenty minutes ago when I suggested staying here.
“Okay, give me one minute to gather some information and we will get you checked in,” he replies with a slight smile on his face.
After a few minutes of entering information, the young man hands us our keys to the room, and yes, they are literal keys. This house is a historical masterpiece in our timeless town, which means in order to make significant updates it takes a committee, a town vote, and about every step in between making the update not worth the investment.
Ollie unlocks the door swiftly and sneaks past. I push the door open and smack right into the back of Ollie as I walk in. She stops walking and is just staring into the dimly lit room. I place both hands on the outsides of her shoulders to ensure I don’t knock her over and glance past her into the room.
One bed.
There is only one bed in the room, the room I specifically asked for two beds.
“I’ll go back to the front…” I start to say realizing now why the kid at the front was smiling when he was checking us in. Ollie unfreezes and continues into the room.
“No,” she whispers, with such sincere hesitation that you would think she is asking a question instead of making a statement.
I slowly follow her farther into the room and notice that it's also only a full-size bed, which is against the wall. Who the heck designs a room with one nightstand and the bed against the wall? Then I realize we are probably in the smallest room in this entire building.
“It’s fine, we’ve slept in the same bed before. What’s one night?” she asks.
“Ollie, I’ll sleep on the floor,” I say. After our hug earlier, I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself for the entirety of the night if we have to share the bed.
“Noah, it’s a hardwood floor with a cheap old rug with who knows what on it. You’re sleeping in the bed, you can stay on the outside and I’ll take the wall." This is more of a demand than a debate, and I instantly know there is no winning this.
Looking around the room I notice there is a very old hunter-green velvet loveseat that would probably fit my torso and half of a leg, which is probably the “second bed” in the room. For a second I contemplate offering to sleep on it, but the second Ollie plops down onto it and grunts, I quickly nix that idea. She pats the spot next to her softly, indicating she wants me to sit next to her.
I can tell she is still feeling the alcohol by the haze in her eyes, the soft giggle she lets out as I sit next to her and the couch creaks as if it's going to collapse beneath us.
Ollie’s quiet giggle fades into a deep, sad sigh. “I'm not ready for tonight to be over.” She sighs as she leans her head against my chest.
I wrap my arms around the top of her shoulders and whisper, “Me neither.”
Little does she know, I want to stay like this forever. Cause even after one night, after all these years, I'm still in love with Olivia Bennett and all I can do is hope she still feels the same.
We move to a more comfortable position on the couch where I’m against one side and she sits criss-cross-applesauce on the other side facing me, and we continue chatting. I tell her as much as I can about my time overseas, which is mostly just what life was like living in a desert on a cot for so long. Long story short, a lot of time in the “gym.”
She shows me some houses she and her friends are looking at renting farther outside of the city. They want a bigger space so the dog has a small yard to run around, but all will miss the downtown lifestyle, which is why they haven’t committed to one yet. As we continue to talk, Ollie inches closer and closer on the couch so that our shoulders are touching. She’is curled up, sitting on top of her legs and feet and when she shows me a photo or a video or laughs, she leans in closer, resting her head against me.
“Oh my gosh, it's already four in the morning!” Ollie exclaims in a loud whisper, trying not to wake anyone in the house since the walls are thin. Good thing the only other person here is the kid at the front. “We have to go to bed!”
I feel my shoulders sink, knowing she is right but not ready to be away from her. There is a huge weight dropped directly onto me knowing this night is coming to an end but also a fear that I will never see her again. She’ll get up early, and call Cole to come pick her up before I even know what happened. We haven’t even talked about how long she is home for, or if she wants to get together again, or stay in touch or anything.
