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He nods and is quiet for a second. “Liv told me your father was a carpenter as well.”
I wish she wouldn’t say anything at all. What else has she told them? Hank is obviously waiting for an answer, so I scrounge one up. “He was. I never got to really see that side of him, though.”
Our food arrives and thankfully, Hank doesn’t talk and eat at the same time. Unfortunately, he eats fast.
“Now, there is another reason I brought you to lunch.” I brace myself for the worst. “Olivia is my niece and I’m very protective of her. I’m sure you can understand since you have a younger sister.” Something else she told him, apparently. “She’s been through a lot in her time, which I’m sure she’ll tell you about when she’s ready. She’s tough as nails and has a kind, caring heart.
“There’s a lot about you that Olivia hasn’t said, that she purposely avoids when she calls us or stops by to have lunch with my wife. I’m assuming that means you have demons of your own. Everyone has them, but some are worse than others. Olivia is a helper, especially if she sees someone who needs it and she knows she can help.
“I’m not saying she’s seeing you because of that, but because I know Olivia, I also know she’s helping you fight whatever battle you’ve got going on. All I’m asking is that you don’t allow her to get hurt because of it. I don’t want to see that happen to her again.”
Again? What is he talking about? Does this have to do with the person she knew who suffered from depression? The way he says it doesn’t give me any insight as to who it was. I nod because I don’t know what to say. My mind is twisting and turning, trying to analyze his words too much to think clearly enough. For some reason, I remember her saying that she had to see a therapist. Maybe that’s why. Because someone hurt her bad enough that she needed help? I don’t know.
She probably would give me a look and remind me why I need to go had she seen my reaction to the football this morning. When Hank and I return to the job site, a few minutes early, I go to my car and dig around in the backseat. My fingers finally find the referral slip for the therapist. Should I make the appointment? If Olivia is right about it helping, then maybe I should try it. If it helps me, then it’ll indirectly help me not hurt her, like her uncle requested.
My heart beats against my ribcage so fast and hard, I’m surprised I don’t break a rib. My hand shakes as I dial the number and lift the phone to my ear. After telling them who referred me and what time would be best, I have an appointment with a therapist late Friday afternoon.
I WASN’T GOING to do anything else for Valentine’s Day since I gave her a gift, but I’ve had a damn good day and I want to do something with Olivia. After stopping by the grocery store and unloading all the groceries, I text her since her car isn’t in the parking lot when I get home.
Me: Where are you?
Olivia: just parked.
Me: Ditch the hoodie and come to my place. :)
These moments, where I feel like I could conquer the world, like I’m not in the mist of a battle for my sanity, they don’t come often or last long. I want to take advantage of it while I can. Plus, I didn’t see Olivia yesterday because she was tutoring Ben, so I stayed here and went to bed early.
I miss her.
I think.
Kind of? I don’t know.
She had a lot of homework to do too, so we didn’t even text a lot. I’m ready to see her. While I wait for her, I go ahead and start making dinner. This is as romantic as I get, cooking dinner. I hear the door open and glance up to see her walking in with a snug long-sleeve shirt on and a pair of jeans.
“You’re cooking?” Olivia gives me a quick kiss before eyeing my ingredients on the counter. “I thoug
ht you said you couldn’t cook.”
“I said it depends.” I pick up the piece of paper. “I can, only if I have a recipe.”
The corners of her mouth lift and fall as she tries not to smile and laugh. “Did you go hunting for a recipe?”
“No. My grandma gave it to me a while back. If you’re going to laugh, go away.” I turn back to my paper and read what I’m supposed to do. “I’m not a freelancer. I need something to follow or all hell breaks loose.”
Olivia finally laughs. “You only do what it tells you to do too, then?”
“Yep.” I get started putting together a casserole that’s one of my favorite things to eat. Olivia tries to say something to me, but I huff and look at her. “I can’t talk and cook either.” She laughs at me again and I glare at her. “Is this the thanks I get for trying to do something for you on Valentine’s Day?”
“Sorry. Do you want any help?” Olivia’s still grinning, though.
“No, you’ll distract me. Go get the yoga stuff and we’ll do that while it’s in the oven.”
Her grin widens. “I knew you loved doing it. You wouldn’t volunteer to do it otherwise.”
“Just go before I change my mind.”
She does, thankfully, and that allows me to focus on cooking. Once it’s all ready to go into the oven, Olivia has changed and is waiting in my living room with the mats laid out. I switch out my clothes as well. Olivia has finally stopped laughing at me while we do this. The only time she will is if we’re doing a new pose or whatever and I have trouble with it. I’ve gotten better at it too. Never in a billion years would I have thought that I would have gone from playing football to doing yoga.
