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Once free and clear of clothing, I walked to the tub to check the temperature. “No, I didn’t pull any pigtails.”
“Braids then?”
“No braids or ponytails, either. I barely talked to anybody.”
“This doesn’t surprise me.”
I took her hand and helped her in, following when she parked herself under the stream with her eyes closed and her face tilted to the ceiling. At the sound of the metal rings on the curtain rod, she sluiced the water from her hair and opened her eyes, trading places with me. When the hot water hit me, I nearly melted down the drain.
“You had friends, though. At school. Right?” Small, soapy hands scrubbed their way across my chest.
“We moved a lot. Just went wherever Mom could find work.”
“She cleaned houses?”
I nodded, reaching for the shampoo and dispensing a dollop. “Outside of Philly.” I dragged my fingers through her hair and gathered it up, lathering it on top of her head until it was a ridiculous tower of foam and red curls. “Seemed it was always something. Jobs wouldn’t stick. We’d get evicted. We had to take whatever we could get.”
“Which meant lots of schools.”
I wound a curl around my finger and placed it artfully at the peak of shampoo mountain. “About the time I made a friend, we’d move again. By the sixth grade, I gave up trying.”
“Raise your arms,” she ordered.
Smirking, I did. When her hands slipped into my armpits, I flinched.
“Oh my God, are you ticklish?”
She wiggled her fingers, and I grabbed her by the wrists, laughing.
“You are!” Her hands darted out like cobras.
“Stop it.”
“If this wasn’t the worst day, it’d be the best day of my life.” She giggled as I fought her off.
“You are so weird.” I laughed.
“Why, because I want to wash your armpits?” She’d moved around so much, her whipped hair sagged sadly, the curl slipping into her face.
“Yes.” I grabbed her by both wrists and held them in front of her, the two of us laughing like idiots.
“The indestructible Jake Milovic is ticklish. It’s a beautiful day for mankind to learn you have a weakness.” Soap ran down her forehead toward her eye, and she slammed it shut, blowing up the length of her face with her bottom lip to try to stop it.
“That’s what you get.” I let her go and swiped the soap away before drawing her into my chest. “Come here.” I turned us around slowly and put her under the stream to rinse out her hair.
“God, I am going to tickle you so much, and you’re never gonna see it coming.” Her eyes were closed, her lips smiling.
I tilted her head back to get her hairline. “I will end you, Olivia.”
“Oh, it’s gonna be so good,” she mused, ignoring me. “In the middle of the night when you’re dead asleep. Bam! You’ve got your hand up a heifer’s vagina, bam! Ninja tickling, coming at you like hi-yah phrlebrepthhhhh,” she spat when I forced her face under the water.
“Told you not to mess with me.”
She was too busy laughing to sling a comeback. Instead, she swiped the water from her face and switched places with me again.
When she composed herself, she looked up at me with velvety brown eyes, bar of soap rolling around between her hands. “After today, I couldn’t imagine I’d ever laugh again, but you proved me wrong. You’re good at that.”
“I’m good at all kinds of things.”
She slid into me, smiling slyly. “You are.” But her smile faded, the weight of the day heavy behind her eyes. “I couldn’t do this by myself. Any of it. And I can’t imagine running the farm with anyone but you. I’m sorry you’ve been so alone.”
I stroked her jaw, not knowing what to say.
“Did you read Pop’s letter?”
I shook my head. The letter had been sitting on my dresser since I’d gotten it. I couldn’t bring myself to open it, knowing it was the last thing he’d ever say to me.
“In mine, he said he gave us both the farm because he knew we’d need each other. At the time, it felt like a cruel joke. You didn’t need me.”
“I did,” I said quietly, pain striking like a match in my chest. “I needed you more than I knew. I needed you even though I didn’t want to. I was just too stubborn and foolish to admit it.”
“Good thing I was too stubborn and foolish to walk away.”
“Good thing.”
It was all I could say without saying too much, so I kissed her to rid us of words for a moment.
She disarmed me completely, exposed me entirely. I often found I said too much, showed her more than I intended. She was quite possibly the only person left on God’s green earth who understood me. She understood me when I didn’t want her to. Sometimes when I didn’t understand myself.
