Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Olivia got to the house, she saw that her mother had cooked dinner for everyone.
She heard a TV on and was glad to be able to escape unnoticed. She went to her room and stretched out on her bed. She needed time to think—and remember. She’d spent a glorious afternoon with Kit and she had a ring on her finger, but had she truly changed the most important thing? Soon after the military came to get Kit, she went back to New York. She’d starred in a few performances of Pride and Prejudice—to excellent reviews—then found out she was pregnant.
Olivia hit the old pillows with her fists. Memories that she had repressed for so many years were coming back to her. Finding out she was expecting had been the low point of her life. To her mind, her life was finished. She’d gone from being on top of the world, to standing at the bottom of a dark pit.
It was Dr. Everett, Ace’s father, who she’d called, crying hard as she told him her predicament. He’d arranged everything. She was to spend the months at a facility for unwed mothers in Jacksonville, Florida. She was to give the child up for adoption. Back then, unmarried mothers were looked down on. Olivia didn’t want to do that to her child or her family. She’d made Dr. Everett swear not to tell her parents. Since he well knew that her father’s heart wasn’t strong, he agreed to tell no one.
During those months at the home, she hadn’t been alive. She’d existed, her belly growing, but she hadn’t felt part of the human race.
The pregnancy had been easy, but the birth was long and difficult. When she woke up from the anesthesia, her child—who she never saw—was gone and a doctor told her that she’d never have any more children. In the ’70s, doctors didn’t tell patients the details of what happened to their bodies. It was considered too complicated for them to understand.
But Dr. Everett didn’t keep his vow of secrecy. Not fully, anyway. He arranged for Estelle Latham, a high school classmate of Olivia’s, to adopt her child. Since Estelle had recently miscarried, she told everyone in Summer Hill that she’d given birth to the pretty little girl.
As soon as Olivia had recovered enough physically, she went home to Summer Hill.
That was when she found out that her entire personality had changed. She no longer had any goals. She felt that she didn’t, well, didn’t deserve them. Her feeling of being invincible, that nothing bad could happen to her, was gone.
For a while she stayed with her parents. They tried to get her to talk to them, but she wouldn’t. They assumed it was a love affair gone wrong. Truthfully, they were so glad to have her back that they didn’t pry too hard. Uncle Freddy offered her a job with him, but Olivia couldn’t bear to see the place or the people.
She got a job at Trumbull Appliances, and soon afterward married Alan and took on the care of his son. Olivia never told him about her baby, just that she couldn’t have children. He’d said that was all right with him, but several times over the years he’d given a great sigh and said he would have liked to have a daughter. Olivia’s response had been to work harder.
She didn’t know that she often saw her daughter. Estelle’s husband, Henry, got a job in a bank in Pennsylvania and they moved, but they returned to Summer Hill at holidays and they attended the same church.
Olivia had never allowed herself to really look at the child since she was about the same age as the daughter she’d given away. But no matter how hard she tried to forget, she didn’t—and she was changed by what happened. Changed from deep within her.
I went from being full of myself to apologizing for my existence, she thought.
It may have been over forty years ago, but now that she was back in her young body, she could feel that hope for the future. With each hour she was again feeling like she could set the world on fire.
She did not want to repeat what had happened before!
That night she couldn’t sleep. It was late and she knew the children got up early and she needed to cook their breakfast, so she had to sleep. But she kept thinking about it all.
When she’d first seen that card from “Madame Zoya,” aka Arrieta Day, and the idea of going back in time had presented itself to her, she’d known exactly what she’d do. First, she’d get Kit to marry her. But if she changed that one thing, she’d have to change other things.
She’d have to make sure that Alan got with the love of his life, Willie. That was imperative. She owed them both that. After her talk with Arrieta, Olivia knew she’d have to register to study psychology at the University of Virginia.
It had all seemed so simple. If she changed what had happened to her, she’d have to change the lives of the people she’d been with.
But now that she was here, something was happening to her. She wasn’t just in her young body, but her young mind was taking over.
Last year she’d been a sixty-plus-year-old woman and a lot had happened since she’d seen Kit. For one thing, she’d had years of running a business. During ordering, overseeing shipments, and arguing with deliverymen, friendships and enemies were made. She knew nearly everyone in Summer Hill, and most of all, she’d lived with Alan and his son.
All those people, places, and happenings had dulled the pain of her past. With tremendous daily effort, she’d blocked out the loss of the baby she had given birth to—and given away.
But now things were different. With every hour, youth was seeping back into her. It wasn’t just a lack of pain in her joints but all that energy was returning to her. In her sixties, she’d looked forward to an hour to sit down and do nothing. In her twenties, a free hour was a time to do something exciting. Laugh, dance, argue, make love. Go. Do. Create.
Right now she was feeling anger. When Kit had returned to her life after years of being away, she’d been understanding, forgiving. After all, she’d seen and done a lot in that time.
And besides, Alan’s dislike of her had taken the edge off Olivia’s spirit.
She flopped onto her back and looked at the ceiling. Moonlight was coming into her room and she could see the shadows of tree branches. Over the years, she’d asked herself why she hadn’t done the sane and sensible thing of contacting his parents when she found out she was pregnant. Back then, Olivia thought her parents were old, and therefore fragile. Ha! There is nothing fragile about old age! It took strength and stamina just to get out of bed each morning.
But here she was, and she didn’t feel sane and sensible. She felt angry.
Worse, her anger at Kit was increasing by the minute. She’d made herself repress memories of what had actually happened. When she’d been alone at the maternity home, her only hope had been that Kit would show up. She told herself that maybe he hadn’t been terrified when she’d told him she loved him. She’d fantasized that he’d somehow find her and tell her the reason he’d left. The death of someone he loved usually won out.
What was bothering her now was that Kit had seen her on Broadway. He’d been in New York just before being shipped out to Libya. With a government camera in hand, he’d sneaked out a bathroom window and paid a scalper’s price for a ticket to see her on stage. He said he greatly regretted not speaking to her.
Not speaking to her! she thought.
She turned over in the bed. What kind of man was he that he could spend a summer as they had done, then just walk out and leave? He could have taken five minutes to speak to her that night in New York, tell her he had to do something for his country, tell her how he felt about her. And she would have told him of her condition. If he’d arranged for her to go to his parents, their lives would have been changed forever. Hers, his, their daughter’s. Her parents wouldn’t have died thinking they had no grandchildren. If Kit had just spoken to her!
It was well after midnight before Olivia fell asleep, and she woke often. Every time she opened her eyes, she thought of her miserable months in the maternity home. Dr. Everett had paid for it, and later she’d paid him back with interest. Plus, every time he had a patient who desperately needed a range, a refrigerator, a new sink, or heat, Olivia had supplied it. She felt she owed him for helping her, and too, she wanted to pay it back by helping other women in need.
The loneliness, the tears, the fear, all came back to her. Kit could have stopped all that pain, could have prevented the tragedy of what happened. If he’d just spoken to her that night. Was that too much to ask of him?
The children came into her room at 6:00 a.m. They wanted to know which Olivia she was going to be today. Was she going to cry some more and dance with them? Or was she going to dump hot dogs and beans into a bowl, then run off with Kit?
Olivia opened her arms and they snuggled with her. Last year Letty’s son had finally been cast in a role as something other than a heartthrob and he’d received great reviews. And Ace would get his wish to have many children.
“Tell us a story,” Letty said.
“A new one. Like the song yesterday,” Ace said.
“How about if I tell you about taming a dragon? Once upon a time, there was a skinny little boy named Hiccup.”
Olivia felt a little bad at stealing a story, but since it would be forgotten, she figured it was all right. When she saw a foot peeping around the corner, she told Uncle Freddy and Mr. Gates to come in.
It was when she was at the part where Hiccup was making a saddle for his dragon, Toothless, that Kit appeared at the door. He had on a tiny pair of shorts, his long, lean body exposed. Yesterday the sight of him had sent her into an explosion of desire. But today, she frowned at him. He was lounging against the door frame in a way that said he knew everything about her. Knew what she was thinking, what she wanted. And what she absolutely, positively must have was HIM.
Olivia looked away and went back to her story. By the time she got to Hiccup refusing to kill a dragon, Kit was gone. She couldn’t help it, but she breathed a sigh of relief.
She made pancakes for breakfast and she did her best to shape them into dragons.
At about ten, she drove Uncle Freddy’s old car into town to see her father. It was time to begin setting in motion the things that she needed to do.
She went to the Summer Hill Bank, where her father was president. The sight of him was as deeply felt as it had been with her mother. It took her a while to get her emotions under control before she could speak. They talked for over an hour before he had to go back to work. On the way out, she made arrangements to meet with Willie, a teller, and the woman Alan would love so much. As Olivia drove back to Tattwell, she felt good about what she planned to do.
In the past, she’d always been impatient, hurrying onto the next thing, but this time around, she was content to spend her time with the children and the dear old men. She led their exercise class and at the end she gave a dance recital for them—or for her as she wanted to feel what her young body could do.
In the late afternoon, she saw Kit in the vegetable patch, pulling weeds.
He glanced up at her, smiling, but when he saw her turn away, his smile disappeared.
I have to fix this, she thought as she went inside the house. She didn’t feel pregnant but it was possible that she was carrying his child. We’re to get married before the three weeks are up. He’s my destiny. Without him I’ll end up with a man who hates me. My child will...
She couldn’t bear to think of what she knew would happen to her without Kit.
But was that true? Kathy had asked if they had to build their futures on a man. Right now, Olivia had the same question. The first time around she’d let her emotions and her pride get in the way. She hadn’t asked for help from anyone. But what if she did? What if after Kit left she asked her parents to help her? She knew without a doubt that if it came to it, her parents would move to another state. They would allow no shame to come onto their daughter or their grandchild.
She was a twenty-first century woman standing in 1970. If she was expecting—oh, for a drugstore pregnancy test!—she could handle it. She used to think she had no help, but it had been there all along. Her parents, Uncle Freddy and Mr. Gates, Dr. Everett. They were all there and ready.
As she prepared an early dinner—chicken with apricots, a recipe that Letty’s son’s wife had taught her—she began to feel better. When she’d been presented with the idea of going back in time, all she could think of was getting together with Kit. But now that she was here she saw that she had choices. What a fabulous word, she thought. Choices! There wasn’t just one man available and, even more important, the twenty-first-century woman had learned that a man wasn’t necessary to a woman’s happiness.
She was singing a Lady Gaga song and dancing around the kitchen when Kit came in. He had showered and put on a full set of clothes. Since they were alone, he slipped his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck.
Olivia twisted out of his grip. “Someone might come in.”
“Would that be so bad? Kissing is something engaged couples do.” He gave a pointed look at her empty finger.
“Housework,” was her explanation for why she wasn’t wearing the ring.
“Is dinner early because you’re going out tonight? And might I ask where?”
She had no intention of telling him the truth. “I’m going on a date. With Willie.”
“Ah,” Kit said as he picked up a carrot stick and crunched it. “Isn’t she the girl who works at your dad’s bank?”
Olivia didn’t answer him, but was annoyed that he knew.
“She called and said she was looking forward to going to the sale tonight and she asked me what she should wear. I told her high heels and tight jeans. She certainly does have a good giggle. And, oh yes, she really needs a new toaster.”
When Olivia didn’t comment, he sat down at the table and watched while she put bowls of food out. “So when do we leave for our date?”
“It’s my date and you’re not going.”
“I think we should do things together. With our clothes on. Get to know each other outside the darkness.”
“Does that include my knowing about you running around naked in the sunlight to get a full body tan?”
If Kit was surprised by her knowledge, he didn’t show it. He just smiled. “What car do you want to use? Bill and Nina are staying home tonight so we could go in theirs. I’m not sure Uncle Freddy’s old Packard is up to the two-mile journey into town. Or we could take the pickup. Maybe—”
“I have things to do.” Olivia modified her tone, made it less strident, less angry. After all, Kit hadn’t yet done the things she was furious at him for doing. When he said nothing, she stepped in front of him. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I really do have some very important things that I need to do and I can only do them alone.”
“Ah,” he said again.
“Stop saying that! We’ll go out tomorrow. I promise.”
Kit got up and went to the door. “I’ll get Bill’s car and meet you in the front in fifteen minutes. We wouldn’t want to miss a minute at—where was it?—Trumbull’s Appliance Store’s semiannual sale. I’m sure this will be a very exciting date.”
He was out the door before Olivia could say another word. This was something she hadn’t imagined. How was she going to get Alan and his Great Love together if Kit was hanging around? He liked to be in charge, in command. He liked to give the orders.
She called the kids to dinner and the men followed. They all wanted to know why she was dressed up and where she was going. She told them. Letty asked if she could go too; Ace asked if she’d bring back some ice cream; Uncle Freddy said the Summer Hill Bakery had blackberry pies; Mr. Gates asked her to find out how much a new stove would cost.
Olivia grabbed her sweater and ran out the door before they gave her more to do. Kit was leaning against Bill’s Chevy and cleaning his nails with a pocketknife.
“You want to drive? I wasn’t old enough to learn until last week.”
With an eye roll at his lie, she got into the passenger seat.
They were barely out of the driveway before Kit said, “Why is it so important for you to go to this sale tonight and why did you ask someone you hardly know to go with you?”
“How do you know she isn’t my best friend?”
“I can’t see you being pals with someone who giggles and flirts with a stranger over the phone. Not your type at all.”
Olivia had to agree with that! When Alan was dying, she got to know Willie well. Makeup, clothes, and who was going to pay her bills were her main concerns.
“You’re not going to tell me what you’re up to, are you?”
“I’m not ‘up to’ anything. Willie is new in town. I saw that Trumbull Appliances is having a big sale, so I invited her to go with me. Now are you satisfied?”
“Not in the least. Why did you really invite her to go with you?”
Olivia threw up her hands. “You are an exasperating man! Okay. I think she and Alan Trumbull would like each other. Happy, now?”
“Happier,” he said. “What are you planning to buy? I think our washing machine was used during the First World War.”
Kit was parking the car in the alley beside the bank. In a few years, the town would tear down three lovely old buildings to put in a parking lot. She started to reply to him, but the Caldwell family walked by. Six years from now, their house would burn down and Mr. Caldwell would die saving his youngest daughter.
“Are you all right?” Kit asked.
“Fine,” Olivia whispered. Mr. Deavers and his wife went by. They would lose their son in Afghanistan.
“Livie?” Kit pulled her into his arms and stroked her back. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like knowing the future.”
He pulled back to look at her. “You can talk to me, you know. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She moved away and leaned back against the seat. Patty Ferris was walking with her high school boyfriend. When she dumped him to marry Sue Collier’s fiancé, there would be a lot of anger. But Patty would have three kids and be very happy, and Sue would leave town in a rage, go to law school, get her degree, and also be very happy.
“The future isn’t all bad,” Olivia said. “Sometimes good things happen.”
“Glad to hear it. Why do you really want Willie to meet the Trumbull kid?”
“So they can give Kevin and Alana a happy life. Or maybe it’s to ease my guilty conscience.” She opened the car door. “Why don’t you go have a beer somewhere while I do this?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Got any more people you want to match up? Uncle Freddy could use a girlfriend.”
She stepped out of the car. “How about you and Betty Schneider?”
“Not a bad idea. I hear she’s had a lot of experience.”
“More than you,” Olivia shot at him.
“If you want to believe that, go right ahead.”
She couldn’t help smiling and by the time they reached the appliance store, Olivia realized that Kit had teased her out of her bad mood. But the idea of seeing Alan again, even of seeing the appliance store, bothered her. She must have been attracted to the man at the first. She could tell herself that it had all been baby lust. She’d just lost her child, and there was Alan with a baby who needed a mother. At the time, it had seemed perfect.
But surely there had been some male-female attraction. Over the many years of living with him, it had disappeared, but it must have been there at the beginning.
Kit took Olivia’s arm in his. “Whatever you’re so worried about, I’ll be right here.” He opened the glass door and they went inside.
“Olivia!”
She turned to see Estelle Latham standing to the side. Her new husband, Henry, was bending over a washing machine. For a moment, Olivia felt her knees weaken. This was the couple who would adopt the child Olivia gave up. They’d name her Portia after Livie’s mother’s given name, and even keep the nickname of Tisha. They would eventually take her away, and return years later with a teenage granddaughter. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Olivia was holding tightly onto Kit’s arm or she might have fallen. Estelle was waiting to be introduced.
“Hi, I’m Christopher. Kit. I work at Tattwell and Livie let me drive her into town.”
She was glad for his tactful explanation, for not blurting about the engagement. But then, it was a small town. People probably knew what was going on with them.
“Henry’s here to get us a new washer and I’m pushing for a dryer. I’m fed up with hanging clothes on a line.”
Olivia still couldn’t speak. If she was pregnant, then so was Estelle. Only she would lose her baby in a car crash on a slick, rainy road. If I could prevent that, Olivia thought, maybe Estelle wouldn’t need to adopt. It wasn’t easy, but she willed her body to stand up straight. She let go of Kit’s arm. “Could I see you for a moment?” She looked at Kit. “Could you...?”
“Occupy myself?” he said cheerfully. “Sure. I’ll look at blenders.”
“Livie!” Estelle said as soon as they were alone. “Is that him? Everyone in town says you two are a love match. But what about Broadway? You worked so hard for that. I’d hate to see you give it up. Will he—?”
“Estelle, I had a nightmare about you. It was really horrible.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have been awful. But—”
“You were expecting a baby and about six months along. You and Henry were in Pennsylvania visiting his parents and you were driving in a bad rainstorm. A big truck skidded and ran into your door. You lost the baby and you could never have more children, so you adopted a baby girl. But you didn’t tell her she was adopted until she found out when she was seventeen and she was really, really angry at you and Henry.”
Estelle’s eyes were saucers. “Oh. I, uh... I...”
“It was such a vivid dream that it was almost real. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. You must swear to me that you won’t ever drive in a rainstorm. Especially not in Pennsylvania when you’re pregnant.”
“I am,” Estelle said. “Expecting, I mean. But only Henry knows—and Dr. Everett, of course. I haven’t even told my mother. And we are planning to go to Pennsylvania in a few months. Henry might get a job there.”
Olivia couldn’t think of anything else to say. She just took Estelle’s hands in hers and held them so tightly they hurt. Her eyes were pleading.
“I promise,” Estelle said. When Olivia didn’t let go, she said, “I swear. On all that’s holy, no driving in the rain until our child is safely delivered.”
Olivia released her hands and Estelle slipped her arm through Olivia’s. “I had no idea you thought so much about me. Thank you. Uh-oh. Here comes Alan.”
Olivia looked across the many people and the appliances with their big sale signs to see Alan Trumbull coming toward them. He was a good-looking young man. Not particularly tall, but he had nice hair and big brown eyes. She knew that he would keep his body trim. All that golf, she thought, then couldn’t help her anger.
“Now you’ve done it,” Estelle said. “He’s going to give your handsome Yankee some competition.”
A customer stopped Alan to ask a question about a refrigerator. He won’t know or care, Olivia thought, and sure enough, Alan stopped, but he frowned in annoyance. She looked at Estelle. “What do you mean?”
“Alan Trumbull has had a crush on you since high school.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Of course you never knew. You were the queen of the Drama Society, a princess on stage, and Alan was just a guy who played a flute in the band.”
“Alan played the flute?”
“According to the bandleader, he wasn’t very good. We girls said it was just so he could sit at your feet while you were on stage.”
Olivia was looking at Estelle in disbelief. “Are you sure of this? I don’t even remember Alan in high school.”
“My point exactly. The day you left for college, that night we girls held a pity party for Alan in that tavern out by Tattwell. Poor guy was miserable.”
Olivia was looking at Estelle in shock.
“Uh-oh, here he comes—and your pretty boyfriend is right behind him.”
Alan stopped in front of Olivia and stared at her in silence.
Her stomach clenched. She knew that look so very well. He wanted her to do something, fix something. There was a problem so of course Olivia was to take care of it. There had been times when she’d been so overwhelmed with child care, running a home and the stores, that she’d nearly burst into tears. Never, ever, never would he tell her what he wanted. He’d just stand there and stare until she figured it out.
Kit put his arm tightly around Olivia’s shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin. “I’m Christopher Montgomery,” he said. “And you are?”
Alan didn’t so much as glance at Kit, but kept staring at Olivia’s pale face. “Good to see you again, Livie. Why don’t we go somewhere and talk?” His tone was so proprietary, so full of ownership, that she took a step forward—as though she meant to obey him.
But Kit didn’t release her. “We have some work to do.” He led her to a corner of the store. “What the hell was that about?” Kit demanded. “Old boyfriend? That guy acted like he owned you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here to see him?”
Between the emotion of seeing Estelle and Alan, Olivia felt like she might collapse. She couldn’t think clearly, and right now the past and the future were all one. “I never went on a date with him, but I was married to him for many years. It hasn’t happened yet, but it looks like he remembers it anyway.”
Kit was staring at her, speechless.
When she looked up at him, her eyes were bleak. “Now you see why I didn’t want you to come with me. What I have to do is beyond anyone’s power to understand, much less accept. I have to go. I need to find Willie, who will someday be the mother of his daughter, Alana. They haven’t met yet so I need to introduce them to each other.”
Kit was still looking at her without comprehension, and she turned away. As much as she dreaded it, she knew she had to do things to make the future right.
Habit, she thought. What was that saying about doing something three times and it will become a habit? How about doing it over and over for more than half of your life? The store with all its appliances in the ghastly “harvest gold” and “avocado green” was as familiar to her as breathing. As was Alan. All it took was one lift of his eyebrows and out of habit, she knew what he expected of her.
Why hadn’t that girl Arrieta warned her that this might happen? Probably because she didn’t know, Olivia thought.
Her fear, one that was seeping into her like some flesh-eating parasite, was that if she wasn’t successful at drastically changing things in the three weeks she’d been given, that she’d repeat her past mistakes. When she no longer remembered a world of computers and cell phones, would Alan look at her in that way that said she belonged to him and she’d go with him?
She glanced at Kit. In the future, she’d spent only a year with him, but she’d had a lifetime with Alan. Habit was a very, very strong pull.
Kit took her hand in his. “It doesn’t matter what I think or believe,” he said softly. “Tell me what you need and let me help.” He smiled at her. “Please.”
Olivia took a few breaths and squeezed his hand. Willie was just coming in the door and looking around. “I need to get Alan and her together.”
“Now you are talking fantasy. You want scrawny, flabby Trumbull to look at her when you are in the room?”
Olivia couldn’t help smiling—but then it’s how she’d always felt. Vain, yes, but Willie wasn’t especially pretty or built or smart. Yet Alan had liked her better. “Thank you,” she said. “So how do we do it?”
Kit smiled at the we. “Empty the earth of all people so only those two are left. They might notice each other but I’m not sure.”
In spite of the trauma she’d felt since entering the store, Olivia laughed. Alan was wearing that expression she knew so well, that he expected her to follow him.
But Kit’s sarcasm, and the way he was holding her hand so securely, was giving her courage. “There’s a storage room,” she whispered and Kit bent down to hear her. “Down the hall to the left. If we lock them in there for a while they might realize that they like each other.”
He nodded in understanding. “Think the girl will go with me if I ask her to?”
She was so grateful for his help that when she looked up at him he seemed to have starlight encircling his head. “I think she’ll believe she’s died and gone to heaven.”
“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll show you what you can do with a vibrating washing machine.”
“How do you know that?” she snapped.
Smiling, Kit let go of her hand and went toward Willie, who was looking lost.
“I’m glad you sent him away,” Alan said. He was looking her up and down in a way she’d always disliked. “I knew that as soon as you returned to Summer Hill you’d come see me.”
Has he always been this arrogant? Olivia wondered. She knew he was after they were married, but if he’d done this at first, she wouldn’t have married him. No. At first he’d been quiet and unassuming and helpless, she thought. And she had jumped in and taken over. “How have you been?”
“Better now that you’re here.”
“Alan,” a customer said, “I was wondering about—”
“Ask a salesman,” he said quickly.
The tone he used sent Olivia back in time. After they were married, Alan would snap, “Ask Olivia.” Behind him, the door opened and in came a pretty young woman Olivia had only met once. She was Kevin’s mother. During the birth, a blood clot had erupted and she’d died instantly.
“I thought you were going out with Diane.” Olivia nodded toward the young woman.
“I was but, now that you’re here, I’ll let her go.”
Olivia had a flash of panic. What about Kevin? Did he have to have Diane as his mother? If Alan and she didn’t marry, would Kevin be born?
She saw Kit across the room. He was walking with Willie and listening to whatever she was saying. Behind his back, he pointed toward the end of the hall and Olivia shook her head. They had the wrong woman! In spite of all Kevin’s ingratitude, Olivia had helped raise him and she couldn’t risk that he’d cease to exist. Willie was going to have to take care of herself.
She smiled at Alan. “I seem to remember a big closet at the back of this building.”
With a smile that said he’d won, he led the way.
When they passed Kit, she said, “Not Willie, get Diane.”
Kit took only seconds to recover from his confusion, then he went back into the store.
Fifteen minutes later, Olivia and Kit were walking away and smiling. She held up her hand to him but he had no idea what she meant. “It’s a high five.” She showed him how to slap hands. Behind them, they couldn’t hear the yells of the two people they’d just locked in the big closet.
As they got back to the showroom, Kit halted. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much,” she said. “Thank you.”
“So why’d you stay married to that jerk for so many years?”
Considering that she was twenty-two years old and had never been married, what he said was absurd—and funny. “Great sex,” she said.
“Anything you’d like to teach me?”
She slipped her arm in his. “I don’t think I need to teach you anything.”
His eyes turned hot. “How about if we leave this place?” He nodded down the hall toward the locked door of the closet. “Unless you want to release them now.”
“No, I’ll call later. I think they need a few hours together. We can—” She broke off because she saw Mr. Trumbull sitting in his office. He’d unexpectedly died of a heart attack the year before Olivia returned to town, and she didn’t really know him. But she knew he’d had the reputation of being an honest, hardworking man—and he and his son never got along. Their arguments were legendary.
“I need to do something.” She tapped on his door, then opened it.
Mr. Trumbull looked up. “Why, it’s pretty little Olivia Paget, isn’t it? And who is your lucky young man?”
“Christopher Montgomery, sir.” Kit held out his hand to shake.
“I just wanted to say that my father speaks very highly of you,” she said. “He says you were a war hero.”
Mr. Trumbull smiled, obviously pleased at the accolade. “Not a hero, but I did my part.”
Olivia picked up a little framed photo of Mr. Trumbull in his army uniform, his chest adorned with a long line of medals. “Didn’t you give Audie Murphy a run for his money?”
Mr. Trumbull looked like he might blush. Audie Murphy was the most decorated man in WWII and he went on to star in some movies.
Kit was standing to the side, waiting to see what she was up to.
“I hate to be a pest, Mr. Trumbull,” she said, “but Uncle Freddy wants a new stove. I was wondering if we could get some prices on something gas, thirty-six inches? I’d ask the salesmen but you know Uncle Freddy, he only trusts you.”
“Sure.” Mr. Trumbull got up. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Anything for Uncle Freddy.”
As soon as the door closed, Olivia went to her knees and started using her nails to pull at the cheap, thin paneling on the wall. “Hand me that letter opener, would you?”
Instead, Kit knelt beside her, put his hands on the paneling, and pulled up. The thin wood came away on one side.
Olivia put her hand inside and reached up as far as she could. She withdrew a long, narrow wooden box.
“What’s in it?”
“It’s full of Mr. Trumbull’s war medals.” She hesitated, then thought, Why not tell? “Alan did it. He was sick of hearing how his dad was a hero, so he stuck the box of medals behind the paneling, then messed up the office and said there’d been a robbery. I found it years later when I remodeled the office.”
“How about if we let Mr. Trumbull think he found it?” Kit slipped the box back behind the paneling, but left the nails sticking out.
“I don’t know what happened to Alan,” Mr. Trumbull said as he returned to the office. “He was supposed to be helping on the floor tonight.”
“Oh, you know Alan,” Olivia said. “If there’s work to be done, he disappears.”
Mr. Trumbull looked at her in shock, then laughed.
“I bet he’s out playing golf,” Olivia said.
Mr. Trumbull laughed harder. “I shouldn’t think it’s funny, but his mother—”
“Believes Alan can do anything,” Olivia said. Behind her, Kit was doing something with his foot.
“He’s a clever boy but...”
“He’d rather spend time figuring out how not to do something than to do it,” Olivia said.
Mr. Trumbull was still laughing. “Oh, Livie, I had no idea you knew my son so well. Why don’t you come over for dinner some night? Get to know all of us better?”
She stopped laughing. It was as though he was matchmaking her with his son. She knew how lazy he was, therefore she should marry him? Scary concept!
“She’s taken,” Kit said loudly. “Mr. Trumbull, I seem to have stepped on a nail and I can’t move my shoe. I’m caught on a corner of the paneling and there seems to be something under here. Would you mind giving me a hand?”