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She looked stunning in her grief. The black dress that she was wearing was elegant and understated, and the little veil that she had clipped over her face brought her features into sharp relief. Her eyes were bright, and she was pale, but she looked strong, standing there.
I was proud of her, I realized, and I flushed just thinking that. As though I had any right to feel proud of her.
Her eyes found mine, and for a moment, it looked as though she wanted to convey something with that look, or possibly as though she might find her way over to my side. But just then, the funeral
procession began, and her eyes snapped back to the officiant.
I was surprised to see that she wasn't standing next to Buck, but maybe she didn't want the whole town to know about them, especially given the pregnancy. Today wasn't the day for that. Still, I figured it was only a matter of time before everyone found out about the two of them, especially with the way that Buck had talked to Gary.
I suppressed the wave of jealousy that went through me and concentrated on the ceremony.
The officiant said some words, and then Olivia gave a tearful, well-written eulogy. Afterwards, she invited other people to get up and tell their own stories about Jeannie. The happy stories lightened the mood, but Olivia herself became noticeably sadder and sadder until I was surprised that she hadn't crumpled already. She continued to stand strong, though.
After the ceremony, I watched Olivia mill around, greeting people, thanking them for coming, and accepting their hugs. She seemed so terribly sad, and I wanted to go to her, to comfort her. But I wasn't sure that she would appreciate that, especially not in front of the whole town. I stayed off to the side, letting her come to me if she was willing to.
Buck stepped forward and had a quiet word with Olivia, giving her a quick hug. I turned away, not wanting to see the two of them together. Even though I knew it was over between Olivia and me, that she had made her choice, I couldn't help feeling bitter about it, but it wasn't the time to feel bitter about something so petty. Olivia deserved good thoughts and feelings from all of us, especially on this day, when she had just had to bury her mother.
But I hated seeing her touch another man like that. I felt another surge of love for her, mixed with a desire that she not touch any other man in her life. It wasn't fair for me to ask that, though. If she wanted to be with someone else, that was her prerogative.
To my surprise, shortly after Buck left Olivia's side, he made his way over to me. There was sadness in his eyes, and he nodded toward the doorway. “I was hoping I could have a quiet word with you, in private,” he said in an undertone.
I looked around incredulously. “Do you think that now is a good time for that?” I asked. I assumed he wanted to talk about his relationship with Olivia, or maybe he wanted to gloat about the pregnancy. I didn't want to hear any of that, not now.
“Trust me,” the man said quietly. “I need to talk to you.”
I rolled my eyes but followed him outside, sparing a glance for Olivia as we went. Fortunately, she seemed focused on whatever Christina, one of Jeannie's oldest friends, was saying.
“What do you want?” I asked sharply when it was just the two of us.
“I'm sorry about what happened to Miss Jeannie; I always respected her,” he said.
I felt confused, but my confusion just made me feel more frustrated. “I'm not the person that you should be saying that to,” I said, looking pointedly back toward the doorway. But he had already said his condolences to Olivia, so I wondered why he felt the need to echo them to me. Maybe he was trying to rub my face into it, along with the pregnancy? Maybe he was trying to tell me that he had Jeannie's blessing and that was why Olivia had chosen him?
I forced myself to tune back into what Buck was saying.
“I feel horrible for what I've been doing to Jeannie's daughter. I don't think I've ever felt more ashamed in my life.”
I snorted at the dramatic way that he said it, although I found the words far from funny. “What, you feel bad for fucking her? Think that you should make an honest woman out of her? That that's what Jeannie would have wanted?” If this was his way of telling me that he was planning to propose to her, his timing could have been better.
But Buck shook his head, his expression earnest. “That's just it,” he said. “I haven't been fucking her.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “I heard you, talking to Greg at the gas station. In sordid detail.” I tried to keep my voice quiet and my tone level, but I was having a difficult time of it, even thinking of the encounter. “If you're looking for congratulations, you can go to hell.”
Again, Buck shook his head. “Georgia paid me $100 to say those things,” he blurted out.
I stared at him for a long moment, unable to believe what he had just said. “She what?” I finally asked.
“She's been paying me to pretend that I'm Olivia's lover, wherever you might overhear,” Buck said. “I didn't do any of those things that I said.”
I frowned suspiciously at him. This I really didn't see any reason for him to lie about. But at this point, I wasn't sure who to believe. “How did you know about Olivia's tattoo?” I asked him.
“There's a picture of Olivia and Jeannie on the table in Jeannie's hallway,” Buck quickly told me. “I saw it every time I went inside to get paid. Jeannie was adamant that I not track dirt into the house, and there wasn't much else to look at while I was waiting for her to come back with her purse.” He paused. “It's the two of them at the beach, wearing swimsuits. You could see Olivia's tattoo in that, but she was facing away from the camera.”
It just might be the truth, at last, I realized. But if it was the truth, I felt horrible for accusing Olivia of lying to me. “So you never slept with her?” I asked, needing to confirm it.
“I never slept with her,” Buck insisted. He gave a short laugh. “Are you kidding? She wouldn't have slept with me. She's only had eyes for you, ever since she moved to Tamlin. Everyone in town knows it.”
I swallowed hard, not even wanting to consider the truth of that last part of his statement. The more pressing matter was that I doubted she could ever forgive me for not believing her. Trust was such a key part of a relationship. But it went beyond my believing that she had slept with someone else; I hadn't supported her when she'd told me that she was pregnant, either. Instead, I'd accused her of being pregnant with another man's child.
