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Eric
It had been two weeks of hardly interacting with Olivia, and I was still at war with myself over what I wanted from my relationship with her. Our conversation on our last date had gone the way that I'd wanted it to go, I thought, at least insofar as I had been able to get out all the words that I'd been thinking. But I hadn't expected her to be so calm and clinical in her reaction. I wasn't the kind of guy to do the casual relationships thing. That had never been me before, and it definitely wasn't me now that Emma was in the picture.
I wanted something serious, or I didn't want anything at all. After all, there was no reason to change my life or to risk upsetting my daughter for something that wasn't meaningful. Besides, I'd come to care for Olivia, despite the fact that I'd only known her for a short time, and I wanted to see if the future had something more in store for the two of us.
But Olivia had treated our relationship as though it were some casual thing. As though that were a given. That worried me. And what's more, that confused me. I tried to figure it out logically, chalking it up to the difference between small town life and city life. Maybe, while I was looking to eventually settle down with whoever it was I ended up dating, and she was just looking for fun.
She just hadn't struck me as the kind of person who was just looking for fun. But then again, we had had sex on our first date; I supposed that said something about both of us.
Since that second date, things had been awkward between the two of us. We barely spoke when I stopped in the daycare to drop Emma off or pick her up. I had run into Olivia a couple of times around town as well, and those interactions didn't go any smoother. I just wasn't sure what to say to her anymore. The comfortable ease that we'd had before seemed to have evaporated like it was never there at all.
My desire for her hadn't lessened, but it was as though neither of us knew how to make the next move.
As though neither of us knows how, or as though neither of us is willing, said a snide voice inside my head.
And it didn't make things any easier, knowing that I had to talk to her about her mother once again. I sighed and drummed my fingers against Olivia's mock reception desk. “How have you been?” I asked.
Olivia's eyes narrowed minutely. “Fine,” she said. “You?”
“Fine,” I echoed. I paused. “How has your mom been?”
“She's fine,” Olivia said. “If you want to talk about her medical situation, you should probably call her and talk about it.”
I detected a hint of exasperation in her voice, but I wondered how much of that was directed at me for asking the question rather than her mom for not listening to her.
“I've tried to talk to her,” I told Olivia. “But she's not answering any of my calls.” I shook my head. “If we don't start chemo now, I'm afraid she may only have a year left. Maybe less.”
I hated having to say things so bluntly, and I could tell how upset I was making Olivia. She folded in on herself, and I could see the faintest traces of tears in her eyes. But when I reached for her, wanting to comfort her, she pulled away from me.
She cleared her throat. “Things may be difficult, and the outlook might not be good, but I haven't given up hope yet,” she said. “And I suggest that you don't either.”
“I'm not giving up hope,” I said, feeling irritated that she would even think that. “I'm just saying that based on the last round of tests we ran, the prognosis is starting to look worse every day.”
Olivia nodded curtly at me, but she didn't say another word about it. Finally, I sighed and shook my head. I wanted
her to help me out, but I guessed I had to find some other way to convince Jeannie to listen to me. I was at a loss for what that might be, as much as I was at a loss for what the next step was for Olivia and me. But I had to figure it out on my own.
“Well, I'll see you tomorrow morning,” I said to Olivia, bending down so that I could scoop up Emma.
As we were driving home, Emma started crying, for no reason that I could discern. I winced and pulled up outside Ernie's Diner; there was no way I was going to try to handle a crying toddler's temper tantrum and cook dinner at the same time. I didn't have the patience that evening; I had felt worn out ever since that second date with Olivia. Thinking of her kept me up at night, and I wasn't sleeping very well.
“Hey, sweetie, want a milkshake?” I asked Emma as I went around to her door. I knew that wasn't proper nutrition for her, but if I could just convince her to quit crying, even if I were bribing her, it would be worth it. Sure enough, Emma reached up and dried her eyes and then solemnly held out her arms so that I could scoop her up out of her car seat.
The diner was busy with the usual dinner crowd, but Emma and I managed to snag a table for two in the corner, and Ernie brought over a high chair. “Haven't seen you in here in a while,” Ernie commented as he waited to take our orders. That was one of the things that I liked about Ernie, despite all his gossiping: he genuinely made everyone feel welcome there by engaging them in conversation, even if he was busy at the time.
Of course, that was probably just a tactic so that he could get the latest scoop.
I smiled a little and shook my head. “Things have been busy lately,” I said. It was a lie: my days consisted of dropping Emma off at daycare, seeing my patients, and feeding us both in the evenings. On weekends, Helen and Emma had been taking more trips together, which left me with unexpected pockets of free time. I had a feeling Helen suspected that something might have happened with Olivia and me, after I'd let slip that the two of us had gone on a date, although she never said anything direct about it.
But I wasn't spending those free hours with Olivia. Instead, I was spending them alone with my thoughts, trying to remember what hobbies I'd had before I became a dad.
“How is darling Miss Emma doing tonight?” Ernie asked jovially. “All ready for a strawberry banana shake?”
Emma laughed and clapped her hands together, her earlier tears gone. I couldn't help smiling as well. At least she was happy, regardless of what might or might not be going on between me and Olivia. It was all the more reason not to rush into things with her. I didn't want Emma's whole world to be shaken up again, to the point where she had to relearn how to laugh all over again. The past two years had been difficult enough for her.
The front door swung open as Ernie went back behind the counter, and none other than Georgia walked in. I groaned, hardly believing my luck. Of all the nights of the week, why did she have to be here tonight?
Her eyes scanned the diner, looking for an empty seat. True to form, she came over and dropped into the empty seat at our table, not bothering to ask if it was all right. I suddenly had the irrational wish that Emma was old enough to sit in a proper seat, rather than requiring a high chair.
