(Chapter 4. August 14. Olivia's house. Around five o'clock.)
Steve sat on the floor at Olivia's feet. She was massaging his neck and shoulders. He was amazed at the strength in her small hands. She was so delicate and yet so strong. He idly wondered what kind of life had made her that way.
"Mmm. That feels good." Turning his head, he surveyed the results of his labor. "Looks nice."
"Well, thanks, but you did all the work."
"Yeah, but I was just following orders. You were the brains behind the operation."
After Olivia had helped him clean out his truck, Steve had given her a ride home. The house had been a shambles, with nothing but the bed, a suitcase, and towels unpacked and in place. As she'd stood in her living room surveying the task ahead, knowing that she was going to be disabled by her sprained ankle for at least a week, she'd looked so defeated that Steve felt sorry for her.
"You know," he'd said, "I have the day off and I didn't have any plans to speak of. It looks like you could use a little help. Is there anything I can do?"
She'd laughed and said, "Are you sure you want to offer? Last time you gave me 'a little help' look where it got you."
He'd smiled, indicated the jumble around him, and said, "It got me right here."
He'd spent the day moving furniture for her and helping her put up drapes and unpack. When they were tired of working inside the house, he set up the picnic table on the deck and, with Olivia's permission, invited his dad, Jesse and Amanda to an impromptu housewarming party. Jesse was bringing a meal from BBQ Bob's, and Amanda offered to pick up some dessert.
Now they were waiting for the gang to show up, and she was giving him a marvelous backrub. Usually Steve didn't like to be around touchy-feely people, but for some reason, every time she put her hands on him, he felt a warm sense of comfort and well being radiate through him.
He sighed contentedly as she kneaded his shoulders. There was a pleasant, quiet moment between them. Then the silence suddenly became uneasy as Steve realized there were some questions he wanted answered. He was trying to figure out how to begin when she opened the door for him.
"What is it, Steve?"
He was amazed that she could tell so easily that something was on his mind. "This morning, when I offered to show you my badge and ID, you said something about it not mattering. That it didn't mean I was a good man."
"Uh-huh, and...?"
"Well, I was wondering what that was all about." He heard her take a deep, slow breath, but she didn't say anything. He waited a little longer, but the silence just played out. Finally, he said. "Look, I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, it's all right. It's really none of my business."
"No, in light of what happened this morning, I would say it certainly is your business. I'm just not sure how much of it I want to retell." There was another long pause as she continued to massage his shoulders. He'd almost given up on getting his answers when she spoke again. "Well, about...twelve years ago...I was...hurt...pretty badly...by a cop. He won't be eligible for parole for a good many years."
"I see. Is that what you meant when you told Jesse you've had to fight for your life before?"
"Yeah, when I was in med school, I had some friends teach me a little self- defense, but after I was hurt, I joined a dojo and a gun club and decided I really needed to learn to look out for myself."
Steve nodded and thought for a moment. "You said 'in light of what happened this morning.' What happened twelve years ago is the reason you... it's why...what I mean is...."
"It's why I threatened to blow your head off?"
"Well, yeah."
"Yes, it is. Like I said, I was hurt badly. I'm never going to be a victim again."
"What exactly happened?"
"Look, Steve. Those events are a very dark place in my life. I don't intend to go back there to satisfy your curiosity." She didn't sound angry about his asking, just unwilling to answer. "A man tried to kill a friend of mine and me. I stopped him. He went to jail. If you want to know more, you can check the police and court records in Clearfield County, Pennsylvania. Be my guest. But please don't ask me to talk about it."
"Ok. Can I ask another question?"
"Can I refuse to answer it?"
"Sure."
"Then ask."
"Would you really have shot me?"
Her grip on his shoulders got stronger, "God forgive me," she whispered, "Yes, and you wouldn't have been the first."
Lucky for Steve, the doorbell rang just then. He never would have been able to think of something appropriate to say back. "Well, it looks like the party's here." He stood up and handed Olivia her crutches. "Want me to get the door?"
"No! These are my first visitors in my new home. I want to let them in myself." Steve laughed a little and let her by. The shadow had already passed and she was acting like a little kid again. Her enthusiasm delighted him.
She opened the front door and Jesse, Mark, and Amanda spilled in to the foyer. "Welcome to Casa Regis. What do you think?" She led them on the grand tour, telling them about many of the things she had used to decorate her home. There were posters from a trip she had made to Europe, old seed advertisements from the farm supply store where her father used to do business, a birds-eye maple bedroom set she had refinished herself. "It used to be six different shades of ugly. I knew I couldn't ruin it, so I decided to find out what was underneath all the varnish and paint and God- alone-knows-what. I guess I got lucky." There were also elephants of every shape and description in every room. "I almost went into veterinary medicine, you know?"
"Really?" Amanda asked. "What changed your mind?"
"I spent a summer helping a traveling circus look after their animals. I learned so much that year. Do you know how they get an elephant to do something when it doesn't want to?"
"No."
"Neither do I," she flashed a wicked grin, "and I just decided that I'd rather be able to reason with my patients."
"I see," Amanda said, "Well, I don't often have that problem myself."
"That's because you have a such a great bedside manner," Olivia told the pathologist with a laugh in her voice. "We could all take lessons from you."
Finally, she led them out to the deck where Steve had set dinner on the picnic table for them. As he helped her settle in her chair and set her crutches out of the way for her, she said, "This looks fantastic. It has been years since I've had ribs. I'll bet they taste even better than they smell."
"Oh, they do," Mark agreed.
"The secret's in the sauce," Jesse said with some pride.
"And the company, I think," Olivia told them.
There were sounds of general agreement as everyone settled around the table. Then Olivia asked, "If you don't mind, I really would like to say grace before we begin."
Mark answered for everyone, "Of course you would, and of course we don't." He reached out for Amanda's and Steve's hands as Amanda reached for Jesse, and Olivia completed the circle by taking hands with Steve and Jesse. They all bowed their heads, and Olivia began.
"Father God, thank You for the food which You have placed before us and the company with whom to enjoy it. Bless the hands that prepared it, and use it to make us strong in Your service." Steve felt her grip on his hand tighten as she continued. "Thank You especially for sending an angel to watch over me last night. He's turned out to be quite helpful, and I'd be lost without him. Amen." Steve felt himself blushing again, but fortunately, no one had any comment.
It was nearly 10 pm, and Steve and Olivia had finished unpacking almost everything. The few items that remained were very personal, and Olivia decided she would take care of them herself tomorrow. Now she and Steve were sitting on the front porch swing, sipping iced tea and polishing off the leftover ribs from dinner. Steve had suggested that she elevate her sprained ankle like Jesse had recommended, and when Olivia observed that there was nothing nearby to prop it on, he lifted her legs, turned her around, and settled them in his lap.
She laughed softly in the darkness as she kicked the shoe off her good foot and said, "You know, I have a perfectly good ottoman inside."
"I know, but it's such a beautiful night, and I'd prefer to sit out here and enjoy it with you." He tickled the sole of her good foot, and she squealed. He tickled her again and she kicked him in the ribs.
"Oooff. Want to play rough, do you? We'll see about that." He set their plates on the porch rail and scooped her up in his arms. He carried her, squealing, all the way back into the house, and dumped her softly into bed. Climbing up beside her, he started tickling in earnest.
She fought back, but she was no match for him when he saw it coming. His one massive hand could hold her two small ones out of the way with no trouble. She couldn't help laughing as she cried out, "Oh, God, no! Steve, stop!" When he didn't, she leaned over and bit the hand that was holding both of hers.
"Ow! Hey, that's no fair."
"Oh, don't be such a baby. That was just a little love bite."
Steve's voice dropped in register when he said softly, "Oh, yeah?"
"Of course."
As they stopped struggling, they drew closer, and Steve noticed for the first time that her eyes weren't all green. Near the pupils, they were honey gold. What he saw in those eyes made his breath catch in his throat. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he knew it boded well for him. He could feel her warm, sweet breath on his face. Her lips were full and soft and beckoning him. He slid a hand into her copper hair and drew her in for a kiss.
As she started to giggle, her hand slipped up to gently cover his lips, and she drew back. Then the same hand slid down to his chest and she pushed him a little farther away. He felt his shoulders sag. He couldn't even pretend that he didn't mind.
"Look, Steve. I think you're a great guy. You've been so helpful, and even under some of the worst circumstances imaginable, you made this a really good day for me. I'm very grateful, but I'm not ready to go there yet."
He nodded, and said, "Ok. I understand," even though he didn't. His stomach washed with acid as he spoke. "I, uh, I'll see myself out. Make sure you lock up, and have a good night." Wrapping what was left of his shredded dignity closely around him, he walked out of the house and got into his truck, never realizing that he had left her crutches on the porch.
Steve sat on the floor at Olivia's feet. She was massaging his neck and shoulders. He was amazed at the strength in her small hands. She was so delicate and yet so strong. He idly wondered what kind of life had made her that way.
"Mmm. That feels good." Turning his head, he surveyed the results of his labor. "Looks nice."
"Well, thanks, but you did all the work."
"Yeah, but I was just following orders. You were the brains behind the operation."
After Olivia had helped him clean out his truck, Steve had given her a ride home. The house had been a shambles, with nothing but the bed, a suitcase, and towels unpacked and in place. As she'd stood in her living room surveying the task ahead, knowing that she was going to be disabled by her sprained ankle for at least a week, she'd looked so defeated that Steve felt sorry for her.
"You know," he'd said, "I have the day off and I didn't have any plans to speak of. It looks like you could use a little help. Is there anything I can do?"
She'd laughed and said, "Are you sure you want to offer? Last time you gave me 'a little help' look where it got you."
He'd smiled, indicated the jumble around him, and said, "It got me right here."
He'd spent the day moving furniture for her and helping her put up drapes and unpack. When they were tired of working inside the house, he set up the picnic table on the deck and, with Olivia's permission, invited his dad, Jesse and Amanda to an impromptu housewarming party. Jesse was bringing a meal from BBQ Bob's, and Amanda offered to pick up some dessert.
Now they were waiting for the gang to show up, and she was giving him a marvelous backrub. Usually Steve didn't like to be around touchy-feely people, but for some reason, every time she put her hands on him, he felt a warm sense of comfort and well being radiate through him.
He sighed contentedly as she kneaded his shoulders. There was a pleasant, quiet moment between them. Then the silence suddenly became uneasy as Steve realized there were some questions he wanted answered. He was trying to figure out how to begin when she opened the door for him.
"What is it, Steve?"
He was amazed that she could tell so easily that something was on his mind. "This morning, when I offered to show you my badge and ID, you said something about it not mattering. That it didn't mean I was a good man."
"Uh-huh, and...?"
"Well, I was wondering what that was all about." He heard her take a deep, slow breath, but she didn't say anything. He waited a little longer, but the silence just played out. Finally, he said. "Look, I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, it's all right. It's really none of my business."
"No, in light of what happened this morning, I would say it certainly is your business. I'm just not sure how much of it I want to retell." There was another long pause as she continued to massage his shoulders. He'd almost given up on getting his answers when she spoke again. "Well, about...twelve years ago...I was...hurt...pretty badly...by a cop. He won't be eligible for parole for a good many years."
"I see. Is that what you meant when you told Jesse you've had to fight for your life before?"
"Yeah, when I was in med school, I had some friends teach me a little self- defense, but after I was hurt, I joined a dojo and a gun club and decided I really needed to learn to look out for myself."
Steve nodded and thought for a moment. "You said 'in light of what happened this morning.' What happened twelve years ago is the reason you... it's why...what I mean is...."
"It's why I threatened to blow your head off?"
"Well, yeah."
"Yes, it is. Like I said, I was hurt badly. I'm never going to be a victim again."
"What exactly happened?"
"Look, Steve. Those events are a very dark place in my life. I don't intend to go back there to satisfy your curiosity." She didn't sound angry about his asking, just unwilling to answer. "A man tried to kill a friend of mine and me. I stopped him. He went to jail. If you want to know more, you can check the police and court records in Clearfield County, Pennsylvania. Be my guest. But please don't ask me to talk about it."
"Ok. Can I ask another question?"
"Can I refuse to answer it?"
"Sure."
"Then ask."
"Would you really have shot me?"
Her grip on his shoulders got stronger, "God forgive me," she whispered, "Yes, and you wouldn't have been the first."
Lucky for Steve, the doorbell rang just then. He never would have been able to think of something appropriate to say back. "Well, it looks like the party's here." He stood up and handed Olivia her crutches. "Want me to get the door?"
"No! These are my first visitors in my new home. I want to let them in myself." Steve laughed a little and let her by. The shadow had already passed and she was acting like a little kid again. Her enthusiasm delighted him.
She opened the front door and Jesse, Mark, and Amanda spilled in to the foyer. "Welcome to Casa Regis. What do you think?" She led them on the grand tour, telling them about many of the things she had used to decorate her home. There were posters from a trip she had made to Europe, old seed advertisements from the farm supply store where her father used to do business, a birds-eye maple bedroom set she had refinished herself. "It used to be six different shades of ugly. I knew I couldn't ruin it, so I decided to find out what was underneath all the varnish and paint and God- alone-knows-what. I guess I got lucky." There were also elephants of every shape and description in every room. "I almost went into veterinary medicine, you know?"
"Really?" Amanda asked. "What changed your mind?"
"I spent a summer helping a traveling circus look after their animals. I learned so much that year. Do you know how they get an elephant to do something when it doesn't want to?"
"No."
"Neither do I," she flashed a wicked grin, "and I just decided that I'd rather be able to reason with my patients."
"I see," Amanda said, "Well, I don't often have that problem myself."
"That's because you have a such a great bedside manner," Olivia told the pathologist with a laugh in her voice. "We could all take lessons from you."
Finally, she led them out to the deck where Steve had set dinner on the picnic table for them. As he helped her settle in her chair and set her crutches out of the way for her, she said, "This looks fantastic. It has been years since I've had ribs. I'll bet they taste even better than they smell."
"Oh, they do," Mark agreed.
"The secret's in the sauce," Jesse said with some pride.
"And the company, I think," Olivia told them.
There were sounds of general agreement as everyone settled around the table. Then Olivia asked, "If you don't mind, I really would like to say grace before we begin."
Mark answered for everyone, "Of course you would, and of course we don't." He reached out for Amanda's and Steve's hands as Amanda reached for Jesse, and Olivia completed the circle by taking hands with Steve and Jesse. They all bowed their heads, and Olivia began.
"Father God, thank You for the food which You have placed before us and the company with whom to enjoy it. Bless the hands that prepared it, and use it to make us strong in Your service." Steve felt her grip on his hand tighten as she continued. "Thank You especially for sending an angel to watch over me last night. He's turned out to be quite helpful, and I'd be lost without him. Amen." Steve felt himself blushing again, but fortunately, no one had any comment.
It was nearly 10 pm, and Steve and Olivia had finished unpacking almost everything. The few items that remained were very personal, and Olivia decided she would take care of them herself tomorrow. Now she and Steve were sitting on the front porch swing, sipping iced tea and polishing off the leftover ribs from dinner. Steve had suggested that she elevate her sprained ankle like Jesse had recommended, and when Olivia observed that there was nothing nearby to prop it on, he lifted her legs, turned her around, and settled them in his lap.
She laughed softly in the darkness as she kicked the shoe off her good foot and said, "You know, I have a perfectly good ottoman inside."
"I know, but it's such a beautiful night, and I'd prefer to sit out here and enjoy it with you." He tickled the sole of her good foot, and she squealed. He tickled her again and she kicked him in the ribs.
"Oooff. Want to play rough, do you? We'll see about that." He set their plates on the porch rail and scooped her up in his arms. He carried her, squealing, all the way back into the house, and dumped her softly into bed. Climbing up beside her, he started tickling in earnest.
She fought back, but she was no match for him when he saw it coming. His one massive hand could hold her two small ones out of the way with no trouble. She couldn't help laughing as she cried out, "Oh, God, no! Steve, stop!" When he didn't, she leaned over and bit the hand that was holding both of hers.
"Ow! Hey, that's no fair."
"Oh, don't be such a baby. That was just a little love bite."
Steve's voice dropped in register when he said softly, "Oh, yeah?"
"Of course."
As they stopped struggling, they drew closer, and Steve noticed for the first time that her eyes weren't all green. Near the pupils, they were honey gold. What he saw in those eyes made his breath catch in his throat. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he knew it boded well for him. He could feel her warm, sweet breath on his face. Her lips were full and soft and beckoning him. He slid a hand into her copper hair and drew her in for a kiss.
As she started to giggle, her hand slipped up to gently cover his lips, and she drew back. Then the same hand slid down to his chest and she pushed him a little farther away. He felt his shoulders sag. He couldn't even pretend that he didn't mind.
"Look, Steve. I think you're a great guy. You've been so helpful, and even under some of the worst circumstances imaginable, you made this a really good day for me. I'm very grateful, but I'm not ready to go there yet."
He nodded, and said, "Ok. I understand," even though he didn't. His stomach washed with acid as he spoke. "I, uh, I'll see myself out. Make sure you lock up, and have a good night." Wrapping what was left of his shredded dignity closely around him, he walked out of the house and got into his truck, never realizing that he had left her crutches on the porch.