Chapter 29
Olivia
Who the hell does she think she is, speaking to me like that? Condescending bitch. I stomp into the partitioned office I share and drop into my chair. I let out a long sigh. I lean back and cover my face.
“What happened to you?” Diane asks.
“Huh?”
“I thought you were coming to the Christmas party.”
“Something came up,” I hope my answer dismisses any further questions.
“Too bad. It was a lot of fun." I must make a face or roll my eyes. I’m still so pissed at Sandy, I haven't fully composed myself. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I take a deep breath realizing I have to give her something. “Sandy laced into me about missing the party.”
Diane smiles, “You really should have been there. It was great. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dr. Stillwell in such a good mood.”
“He was?”
She nods. “In the beginning he was his normal standoffish self but then, he really got into the spirit of things. He played the piano. We sang. We danced. It was a lot of fun.”
I hope she doesn't notice I’m tapping my foot as she tells me about it. “Then why is Sandy in such a bitchy mood?”
Diane shakes her head, “I don’t know. I noticed at the party she seemed a bit high strung. I think she had words with Mrs. Stillwell.”
“Why?” I let my curiosity get the better of me.
Diane shrugs, “Rumor has it Mrs. wants to get involved in how the office is run. You know cut back on the extras to yield higher profits, things like that.”
“Do me a favor, give me a heads up if you see Sandy coming.”
“Sure thing.”
Within minutes I submerge myself in the stack of billing statements on my desk. Although distracted most of the morning, I work efficiently and lose track of time. It isn’t until Sandy stands before me and clears her throat that I realize it’s past noon and time for my meeting with Dr. Stillwell.
*
I sit in the doctor’s office with the door closed waiting for him to finish with his last patient. I’ve never been in his personal office and find the waiting nerve racking. I'd rather have teeth pulled than sit here. It isn’t like I don’t know what he wants. Obviously he wants to know about Lucas. That makes my stomach roll. Maybe Lucas’s right; maybe everything is different now.
I try to get my mind onto something besides the uncomfortable situation about to come down. I look around the room, studying it. I can tell by the organization of the mahogany desk Dr. Stillwell cherishes order.
It reminds me of Lucas's house, simple and neat. Although a stack of files are placed on the desk, they sit with perfect precision, one on top of the other, in the IN box. No corners poke out of any of the folders. No stray papers jut out.
The sun rays spill in through the dark wood blinds and accentuate the shine of the mahogany wood furniture. I find it curious that the office doesn't smell of lemon, orange, or some other wood cleaning scent.
Mounted diplomas hang behind the executive leather chair boasting universities he attended and societies he belongs to. A library of medical books and journals fill the mahogany bookcase across the room. It’s everything I'd expect a doctor’s office to be.
Trying to pass the time, I walk over to the bookcase. A photograph sits there on display. I pick up the small frame and examine the old family photo.
Dr. Stillwell’s dark hair looks thick and wavy, much like Lucas’s. Lucas’s thin frame and baby face give him the appearance of a young teenage boy, maybe fourteen or fifteen. Seated between the two men is an elegant looking blonde woman donned in a cream colored suit and a string of pearls; Lucas's mother. She’s beautiful.
I wonder how Stacy allows Dr. Stillwell to keep that picture out. Especially when there’s none of her anywhere to be found. Thinking about it, once again I ponder the fact that I'd never once seen her in the office. Does he even love her?
The door creaks open. I feel like I've been caught doing something wrong, like watching porn at work. I stand frozen, unsure of what I should do.
“Please sit.” Dr. Stillwell motions toward the seat opposite his as he walks around to his chair. The doctor sits, folds his hands together and eyes me with a smile on his face.
My skin crawls. I want to bolt out of here.
He pulls his chair in close to the desk and leans his elbows on the table in front of him. I can’t help but notice how much he looks like an older, more sophisticated version of Lucas.
“You left so quickly the other evening, I didn’t have a chance to give you this.” Dr. Stillwell pulls open his top desk drawer and takes from it a red envelope. He places it on the desk in front of me.
“What’s this?”
“Your Christmas bonus,” he smiles. “Go on, open it.”
I stick my thumb under the corner of the flap and rip it open. I tug the card from its holder and feign reading it. My eyes take in the amount of the check, but I have difficulty processing it.
I gasp. “Dr. Stillwell, you’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“Please call me Steven.”
“I don’t think that’s wise, sir.”
“You can at least indulge me in my request when we are in private as we are now.”
Lucas won't like it, but he'll have to accept it. I nod, “But Dr. Still…, I mean Steven, I can’t accept this.”
I think of all the things I can do with the money; redecorate my apartment, put a down payment on a badly needed new car, go on vacation with Lucas. Lucas will have a shit fit if I take this money. And I'll feel obligated to his father. I hand the check back.
“Five thousand dollars is more than a Christmas bonus.”
The doctor leans back in his chair, “Surely you heard from the others I happen to be very generous during the holiday season.”
“Yes, but, I'm sure no one else has seen this much generosity.”
“You deserve it.”
“For what?”
“For bringing my son back into my life. No amount of money could ever repay what this has meant to me.”
I swallow hard, choosing my words wisely. “I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself. I can’t be credited for bringing him back into your life when he’s barely in mine.”
“You're understating your relationship.”
I need to counter this and quick. “It’s funny that you say relationship. Friendship. Acquaintance. I think those words more appropriately describe what Lucas and I have.”
I see by the amused grin my boss wears he isn’t buying a word.
“Now, now, we both know that’s not true.”
I bring my hand up to my now pounding head, “Look, Dr. Still- Steven, I’ll be honest with you. I do care for your son. I care a lot.”
“I know. And I know he cares deeply for you, too.”
“But until the other night I had no idea he was your son. He told me his father was dead. Dead, Dr. Stillwell. And I’m not about to risk losing what I do have with Lucas, whatever it may be. Some things just can’t be fixed. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, my dear. I made a terrible mistake. I hurt my son immensely and I’m very sorry I did.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He looks toward the ceiling as a faraway look crosses his face. “I wish I could do it all over. Everything. We could’ve been happy. All of us.” He lets out a deep sigh.
A long heavy silence ensues. I feel very uncomfortable. I have no idea what he expects me to say or do. I want to leave his office, put the unorthodox meeting behind us, but I can’t. Not until he dismisses me. I wish he’d hurry up and get to the point or give me a sign to return to my office, but Dr. Stillwell makes no move.
I clear my throat hoping to bring the doctor back to the present. I think about glancing at my watch, but don’t dare do anything so rude.
“Dr. Stillwell.”
“Steven,” he corrects.
“Steven. I really need to get back to work.”
“One more thing, Olivia. You may think it’s wrong of me to make this request, but would you bring him a letter.”
“I’d rather not. As I said before I don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” I pause a moment, “Besides even if I brought the letter it doesn’t’ mean he’d read it. I have no influence on him.”
“My dear girl, I'll accept your reluctance for what it is. It’s okay to say ‘no.’ I understand. But to say you have no influence over my son is absurd.”
If he only knew. I snicker, “I really don’t.”
“Of course you do. He’s in love with you. That’s why he made an attempt to attend the party. It was for you.” Steven Stillwell stands and walks around his desk. He leans against the desk facing me, one leg crossed over the other. “I want to thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I enjoyed it. I look forward to doing it again soon.”
I stand. A wave of relief sweeps over me, allowing the muscles in my shoulders and behind my neck to relax. As I return to my desk I feel a sense of pride swell up and take hold of me. I think I handled myself with confidence and integrity. It’s as if I proved to myself I’m not about to let anyone come between Lucas and me.