Page 86 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

Still, though. I need to learn from my past. I can’t rely on anyone’s commitment to me. Can’t count on the affection he’s showing me today to stand the test of time, to be enough to warrant me giving up everything.

What would I have left if it all went wrong?

But he’s looking at me now like his heart’s screaming my name with every beat, just like mine is his. And I don’t want to ruin this perfect, blissfully unexpected evening.

So I smile and say, “I could.” And then I lean forward and kiss him, because I want him to know how good that dream sounds to me. Even though I can’t let myself chase it.

At eleven, Oliver calls his dad to say he’s going to stay over. It’s still stormy outside, but Beach Haven is feeling awfully cozy. Oliver was a little hesitant about sleeping over at first, but when I repeatedly assured him I didn’t mind, he finally caved.

“How’s your father?” I ask when he hangs up.

“Good,” he replies, walking back to the bed to sit beside me. “He stays up late watching TV most nights, but he said he’s going to get ready for bed now since there’s nothing to do without the electricity.” He smirks. “I told him he sounds like a petulant teenager.”

I laugh. “He does, a little bit. He’s definitely okay on his own?” I really want Oliver to spend the night, but not at the expense of his dad’s medical needs.

Oliver nods. “He’s pretty capable. He can get around the house on his own and everything. Just can’t drive anymore without a lot of pain. No yardwork, or anything like that.”

“Has he ever thought about getting a remote job?” I’m not trying to pry; I just want to learn everything there is to know about what life is like for Oliver.

“It’s funny you mention that. He’s actually been talking about taking some online classes so he can learn bookkeeping.” Oliver offers a wry smile. “He says he’s tired of being a burden and wants me to have my own life.”

“It must be awful for him to be stuck at home, needing you for everything.” I quickly realize how insulting that must have sounded. “Not that needing you is bad, obviously. You know what I mean.”

Oliver leans over and kisses my cheek. “I know what you mean.” His eyes on mine send my stomach lurching. “And yes, I think it’s been pretty hard on him. Especially now that I’m 32. It was one thing when I was in college and figuring things out, but he doesn’t want me to be stuck taking care of him for the rest of his life.” His gaze drops to his lap. “Although, to be honest, I’m going to be doing that to a certain extent no matter what. His mobility issues are pretty severe as it is, and they’re not going to get better as he ages.”

I squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Oliver shrugs. “Eh. We all end up taking care of our parents eventually, right?”

I consider him in the candlelight. “I don’t know if that’s universal.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He runs his pointer finger down my forearm, making me shiver. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, actually. With my mom.”

“Oh?”

“Just not sure what I’ll do when the time comes that she needs me.”

His face looks darker now in the shadows. I catch his hand in mine. “What do you want to do?”

“What I want,” he says sorrowfully, “is to change what’s already come to pass. To go back to the day she took the Boston job and make my dad follow her. Then he’d never have gotten hurt; she wouldn’t have cheated. I would have had a normal life.”

“Maybe,” I say quietly. “It’s hard to say what might have happened.”

He drags in a deep breath. “You’re right. And I’ve started thinking about maybe trying to call her, once in a while. To see if there’s anything there worth fixing.”

“What changed your mind?” He’d seemed so set against any kind of relationship whatsoever when he first mentioned his mother.

His answer is immediate. “You.”

My eyes widen. “Me?”

Oliver smiles at me. “Even though it was hard, you talked to your mom. And it made me realize that maybe I’m part of the problem.”

I’d been telling him about the first call with my mother when there was a lull at work on Tuesday. We’d stood between the New Release shelves where no one could see us, Oliver leaning toward me and listening intently as I decompressed. Talking to her had been a lot; he was right. Telling him about it had made me feel much better.

I didn’t think much of the conversation at the time, and I certainly wasn’t trying to send some sort of message about the importance of family ties, or anything. I shake my head. “Our situations aren’t the same. We aren’t the same. You don’t need to do something just because I do.”

“I know. But I still think maybe I want to.” He looks into my eyes. “I like that you don’t give up on people.”