Chapter 4: Summer Nights Part 1

Present Day, Early July, Evening

After their dinner and walk on the beach, Gerry and Emily spent time together every day. Because of this, Olivia saw Fitz every day too. There were times when she brought Emily to the Grant house and she ended up sitting with Fitz at the kitchen table. When Gerry came to their place, Fitz walked with him and came in to say hello. One evening he convinced Olivia to play a card game with him and they spent the time catching up on the past twenty-six years – she told him about Emily as a baby and he talked about Gerry as a rambunctious toddler and Karen as a precocious pre-teen. They discussed their respective careers – they had both completed law school but neither had practiced law for long. They talked about various every day normal things. While the past was referred to and smiled about, they avoided the topic of their relationship. They didn't discuss their marriages either. As the days passed, Olivia became more comfortable with Fitz being present in her life. It was almost as if they time they had been apart didn't matter. Almost, but not quite.

On a night when Gerry and Emily had gone down to the beach for a party, Olivia was sitting on the couch in the living room and drinking a glass of wine. She glanced out of the window and saw a lone figure standing on the sidewalk in front of the house. He had on jeans and a t-shirt and had his hands in his pockets. His head was lowered and he wore a baseball cap, but Olivia knew it was Fitz. Without giving it a second thought, Olivia stood, put her glass down, and slipped on her flip flops. She opened the door and met Fitz on the sidewalk. He raised his head to look at her, his blue eyes looking so sad that Olivia reached out and took his hand. They started to walk together towards the beach, neither speaking and neither needing to clarify just what it was that they were doing.

When they got to the beach, they sat facing the water. Fitz turned to her. "I miss you, Livvie," he said. "I don't know how I survived the years without you when each minute without you now is like torture."

His words were like poetry and the sound of her nickname warmed her heart, but Olivia didn't know how to respond. The truth was that she missed him too, but her guilty conscience held her back.

"I was married for twenty years," she said softly. "I can't just move on from that."

"Having you here is like being a teenager again," he said.

"We can't go back to the past," she said. "Too much has happened. We're both different people now."

"We were in love," he said. He looked to the ocean and she looked at him. His face was so beautiful; so familiar even now. She longed to reach out and trace his strong jaw line but she shifted and sat on her hands instead.

"We were," she replied.

"I love you now, Livvie," he said, still not looking directly at her. "When Mellie and I split up and I heard that Jake died – I know, it's awful, but I thought we could have a chance again." He turned to face her. He lifted his hand and used his thumb to trace a line down her cheek. "I never stopped loving you. I never got over you, Livvie," he said.

She shook her head. "You got married," she said. "You had two kids."

"It was never right," he said. "And I only got married after I heard you did."

Olivia's eyes shot up to his. "That's not true," she said indignantly.

"It is true," he said, his eyebrows coming together as he regarded her with confusion.

"No," she said. "It can't be. Because I only married Jake after I heard you were married."

"I don't understand," Fitz said, regarding her intently.

Olivia tried to think. "My father," she whispered. It had to be her father; he had been the one to tell her Fitz had moved on, to introduce her to Jake, to encourage her to love him and be with him. If Fitz hadn't really been married at the time, her whole marriage had been based on a manipulation. She covered her eyes, embarrassed by the hot tears forming out of her thoughts. "He told me he spoke to you," she choked out. "He said you told him you'd never forgive me for leaving you and it was time I moved on."

Fitz had his arm around her and before she could stop him, he pulled her into his chest. "I never talked to your father, Livvie," he said in a soft, faraway voice. His hand stroked over her back as her body shook with the weight of the revelation. "I am so sorry," he whispered into her hair.

With a hand on her shoulder, Fitz gently pushed her back from his body. She sniffled, and looked at him, confused as to what he was doing as he gazed into her eyes. His hand raised to her neck, cradling her face. A second later, his lips approached hers and he kissed her. He tasted like memories, like summer, and like true love and for a moment she lost herself, leaning into him, responding to his mouth on hers. She felt herself melting into him and her hand moved automatically to the back of his head, gripping onto the silky curls below his baseball cap. She felt his tongue on the seam of her lips and she jerked back.

"No," she said, shaking her head for emphasis.

"No?"

"I can't. I can't kiss you, Fitz."

He smiled. "You just did, Livvie." She shook her head again. "That's okay," he said. "You can pretend it didn't happen. But I won't forget it."

Olivia stood up. She was supposed to be a woman in mourning. She shouldn't be kissing another man so soon, even if the man was Fitz. "I can't do this," she said to the ocean. "I just lost my husband."

Fitz stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You know you broke my heart, Olivia," he said. "I know what it feels like to lose someone you love."

"Please, Fitz," she said. "You have to let me go."

"No," he replied. "I can't. When you're ready, I'm going to be here waiting for you."

Olivia felt like screaming, like slapping him, like wrapping herself around him and using his body to help her release her uncontrollable emotions. "Please," she whispered. "I want to go home." She turned and began to retrace their earlier steps towards her house. After a moment, Fitz caught up with her. This time, they didn't hold hands.

When they reached the sidewalk in front her house, she stopped and looked at him. "I broke your heart, Fitz," she said. He nodded. "And yet you still want me?" She didn't understand why in one breath he could tell her that she'd broken him and in the next he could refuse to let her go.

"I love you," he replied. Olivia's eyes closed. "You never apologized, Liv," Fitz said, and she opened her eyes. She could see pain written on his face, the same pain that was there so many years ago. "You left me and you didn't even tell me why. I understand now," he went on. "I realize you were too young and you were scared. You didn't explain or apologize, but I forgive you. Your father lied. I do forgive you."

Olivia felt the tears in her throat before they reached her eyes. She couldn't handle Fitz's emotions on top of her own. "Good night," she whispered, turning from him and walking to her front door. When she turned back just before entering the house, Fitz still stood on the sidewalk, his head lowered, just as it had been when she had seen him standing there earlier. She went inside and closed the door.

1985, July Fourth, Evening

Olivia left her house after a fight with her father. It had started out the way their yearly July Fourth argument usually began – she requested permission to attend a party on the beach for the holiday and her father pointed out that Black Americans should not celebrate the Fourth of July as a holiday, since slavery in America had continued long past this so-called Independence Day. Olivia disagreed, arguing that every teenager in town, whether black or white, would be at the party, and therefore she could not miss it. Her father then suggested that Olivia was not every teenager and should not try to be like every teenager, and Olivia had tried a different tactic – reminding him that she was a motherless daughter and claiming that if her mother had been there, she would have understood and allowed Olivia to go.

After that, Olivia's father turned the discussion to Fitz. He was too old for her. Not only that, he was white. He could be after only one thing and once he used her, he would leave her. Olivia's father stressed that if this was to happen, he would not listen to Olivia's tears. On the other hand, he would be more than willing to press charges against Fitz for statutory rape. At that point, Olivia had to force herself to remain respectful. "Fitz and I aren't going to be alone," she told her father.

"You know what Olivia?" her father sneered. "You go ahead. Have a good time."

Reverse psychology wasn't going to work. As much as Olivia did care what her father thought, she cared about Fitz more. And so, she was in an irritated mood as she headed to the location she and Fitz had agreed upon earlier. Her chest was tight, her fists were clenched, and she felt hot all over, although she was clad in her usual cut off jean shorts and a tank top, this one light blue and thin. When she saw Fitz up ahead, she increased her pace to get to him. He was facing away from her so she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He turned his head and smiled down at her. "Hi Livvie," he said and planted a kiss on the top of her head. She instantly felt herself relax.

She didn't tell him about her argument with her father. Fitz was nineteen years old and could do what he wanted. She didn't need to remind him that technically she was still a child. But as they walked to the party together in silence, her gripping his hand tightly, she knew he could tell that something was bothering her. When they arrived at the party, which was located on a stretch of beach away from the area where families gathered for picnics and the fireworks show, Olivia headed straight for the large tub of drinks. She fished out a wine cooler and whooped excitedly. Olivia had tried beer a few times and she hated the taste. Wine coolers were her favorite. Someone opened the bottle for her and she took a long drink before turning to look for Fitz. He was watching her with a half-smile on his face and she smiled back, swinging her hips to the loud Bruce Springsteen song playing on a nearby boombox, and sashaying towards him. He caught her by the waist and she threw back her head in laughter before gulping down more of her drink.

Over the next hour, Olivia continued drinking wine coolers and dancing while laughing and not thinking about her father. When the fireworks began, she leaned up against Fitz's chest and he held her hand and she thought about how romantic it would be if the two of them were alone and not surrounded by a hundred other kids. After ten minutes of the show, Olivia hopped to her feet, ignoring the fact that she swayed slightly due to the alcohol in her system. She grabbed Fitz's hand and tugged and he stood too. If he wondered what she was doing, he didn't ask. He followed her gamely towards the sand dunes between the beach and the road and when she turned to him and pushed him lightly on the chest, he sat, pulling her into his lap.

Olivia began kissing his face and with the fireworks still lighting up the sky, she couldn't believe how beautiful he looked. "You are so sexy," she murmured, and then broke into a fit of giggles at how silly the words sounded coming from her mouth.

"You're drunk," Fitz replied, kissing her lips and then her cheek. "But thank you."

"I am not!" Olivia protested, shoving him in the shoulder.

"You are," he said. He lay back into the sand and Olivia straddled him. She leaned her head back to look at the fireworks and immediately felt dizzy.

"Ooh," she said, bracing her hands on his chest. She leaned forwards and kissed him again, this time deeply, and without even meaning to, she ground her hips into his. She gasped at the sensation that shot through her body and she did it again, purposely this time.

"Liv, stop that," Fitz said, grasping her hips and holding her steady.

She felt brave and sexy and so ready and she cocked her head to the side. "Fitz, have you had sex before?" she asked, in a voice that she hoped sounded flirty and not too insecure.

Before she realized what he was doing, Fitz had sat up and removed her from his lap. "You're drunk," he said again.

Her heart sank as she realized his point – he wasn't going to give her what she wanted. "You don't want me?" she pouted. "Please tell me you aren't going to say that I'm too young," she added. Her inner fear that her age concerned Fitz was only enhanced by the alcohol in her system on top of her father's earlier comments.

Fitz raked his hand through his unruly curls. "I want you," he replied, looking away from her. "Just not like this."

"Like what?" she asked, standing and spreading her arms wide. The firework show was concluding and the finale had the entire sky lit up. She twirled and the dizziness came again. She tried to focus on Fitz's face and saw he looked upset. "Are you afraid I'll regret it if my first time is when I've been drinking? Or on the beach? Or with you? Wait, maybe that's it. You don't want to be my first! Well, I could just head back over there and find someone else to take the pressure off of you!" She pointed towards the party and took a stumbling step in that direction.

Fitz stood and grabbed her hand. "Stop it," he said. "We can talk about this when you're sober." He started to walk, pulling her with him, but Olivia tripped over her own feet and landed on her knees in the sand. Her stomach rolled and without warning, she vomited, the mess barely missing Fitz's feet. "Shit!" he cried, jumping back, but then coming towards her again. He lifted her and propped her up facing the dunes, holding her as she threw up again.

She took deep breaths, trying to settle her stomach, as tears rolled down her face. She swiped her hand over her mouth and gagged a bit, before shaking Fitz's hands off of her and standing up again. "I'm sorry," she said. She looked at him and the way he stared at her in genuine concern made her laugh. "I'm fine," she said. She took a few steps and tripped again.

In an instant, Fitz was beside her, his arm around her waist holding her steady. "You're not fine, Olivia," he told her seriously. "I'm taking you home."

"No!" she shouted and when he jumped, she said it again in a whisper. "No. You can't take me home, my father will think you did this to me and he'll never let me see you again. Or maybe…" She trailed off, looking towards the ocean. "Maybe he'll decide that he can't take care of me anymore and I'll run away and come stay with you!" She wasn't even sure what she was saying but she kept talking. "Although you don't want me either, isn't that right? Especially now that I threw up all over the place. You'd have to be crazy to want me now." Fitz had guided Olivia off the beach and when she stepped onto the sidewalk, she groaned. "The sand here is too hard!" She stomped her foot and looked around. "I can't see the ocean anymore, Fitz!"

Fitz was quiet, letting her ramble, probably hoping she wasn't going to throw up again. She thought she was feeling better, but she still didn't want to go home, although her father likely wouldn't notice her anyway. "Here we are," Fitz said and she looked up, realizing they were in front of her house. Olivia looked at Fitz, then at the house, considering whether she could get away with sneaking him inside with her. Before she could express her thought out loud, Fitz quickly pecked her on the cheek. "Drink some water. I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said, and then walked away.

Present Day, Fourth of July, Morning

Emily watched her mother preparing a picnic to take to the beach that night. Over the past few days, her mother's mood had changed from slightly manic to more subdued. She had stopped accompanying Emily when she went to Gerry's house and she had less to say when Emily came back. She wasn't aware of what in particular had changed her mother's attitude, but she was sure it had everything to do with Fitz.

"Mom?" she said, as Olivia moved to the refrigerator in search of ingredients for the sandwiches she was making. At her mother's glance in her direction, she continued. "I told Gerry and Karen we would meet them tonight," she said.

Olivia stood still now, regarding Emily. "Is their father coming too?" she asked. "Maybe I should stay here."

"He's coming," Emily confirmed. "But I don't think you should stay home."

"Oh?" Olivia questioned.

Emily suddenly felt like she was the mom in the situation and Olivia was the teenager trying to avoid what could be an uncomfortable situation. "Fitz cares about you," she said, watching her mother turn away and brace her hands on the counter. "Gerry and I talked about it and we think his father could actually help you be happy."

Olivia turned back to Emily. "You and Gerry talked about this?" she asked, and Emily could tell she was embarrassed.

"Actually, I talked to Fitz too," she admitted.

"What?" Olivia gasped. "What did he say?"

Emily smiled. Her mother sounded so much like a teenager with a crush. While just a few weeks ago, Emily had thought that her mother had no right to even speak to another man, she now realized her mother wasn't trying to replace her father. She had known Fitz first, after all. "He said you and he are friends and you've been friends for a long time. He said he hates to see you sad. And he said he met Daddy and liked him." That bit of their conversation had made Emily trust Fitz a little more.

Olivia shook her head. "That's all he said?" she asked.

Emily nodded. She knew there had been more to her mother's relationship with Fitz than just friendship. She realized that they had probably been in love at some point. Gerry even believed that Fitz still loved Olivia. As much as she wanted her mother to be happy though, she wasn't going to encourage more than friendship between her and Fitz. Having her mother's attention, she asked her something else that had been on her mind. "How do you know if you're in love?" she asked.

Olivia looked surprised by this turn in their conversation. She regarded Emily curiously. "Is this about Gerry?" she asked. "It's much too soon for you to think you're in love."

Emily rolled her eyes. "It's not only about Gerry," she said. "I just want to know. I mean, how did you know that you wanted to marry Daddy?" she asked.

Olivia moved to the table and sat down, looking at Emily seriously. "When I met your father I wasn't looking to get married," she began. "We started dating and after a while I realized it was time."

"You got married because it was time?" Emily questioned. "Weren't you in love with him?"

"To be honest, I don't know if I was. He made me laugh and I knew he would take care of me. I took a chance."

Emily didn't know how to respond to this bit of information about her mother that she had never realized. "But you did love him, right?" she asked.

Olivia smiled. "I did come to love him. We were together a long time. And we had you. Not that having a child will make a couple find love, but your arrival made us a family."

Emily considered this. Marriage without love didn't sit right with her. "If you never married him, you wouldn't be a widow now," she pointed out.

Olivia nodded. "That's true, but I also wouldn't have you." Emily didn't respond and her mother reached for her hand. "Emily, we should talk about you and Gerry."

"What about him?" she asked, withdrawing her hand from her mother's.

"Emily, he's a seventeen year old boy. And you are a beautiful girl. Summer relationships can move very quickly because you get to be together so often. But I want you to know, you shouldn't confuse sex for love. And if you're not ready…"

"Mom!" Emily interrupted. "Gerry and I aren't having sex." This was true. Although they had definitely spoken about doing so soon. "You don't have to worry," she added, hoping her mother would lay off.

"I just want you to know you can talk to me about anything. And I know we've discussed using protection…"

"Thanks Mom," Emily interrupted again. She stood from the table. "I'm going to get ready, now okay?" Without waiting for her mother's reply, she turned and headed to her room to change.

Later that night…

Olivia regarded herself in the mirror in her bedroom. She wanted to look cute but casual, and she had put on her favorite "boyfriend" style jeans and a striped navy and white tank top. She felt July Fourth appropriate, but not so much that she was over doing it.

Olivia was nervous about seeing Fitz. After the other night and their kiss, she hadn't spoken to him. The problem with not speaking to him was that she now realized how much she missed spending time with him. That night, she had cried again, though this time her tears were less about missing Jake and more about the realization that her father had tricked her into marrying him in the first place. To know that Fitz hadn't actually told her father that he was over her and that he wanted her to move on left her heartbroken in an entirely new way. And now that Emily had recounted her own conversation with Fitz, Olivia was even more confused about his intentions. Maybe he really did just want to be there for her; to make her feel less sad.

What she had told Emily about summer love was something she had experienced herself. Every day she and Fitz had grown closer. After her drunken attempt at seducing him on the Fourth of July when she was fifteen (a memory that embarrassed her every year since), things had returned to normal between them. They attended parties at night and swam during the day, they ran every morning, and talked late every night. They kissed and touched one another, but they put the topic of sex on hold until the following summer. The time between summers was difficult – she missed him so completely, though they wrote to each other and talked on the phone for special occasions like holidays and birthdays. In the days before cell phones and social media, they had gotten through the days without each other somehow. But the summer days, and later, the nights that they spent together had solidified their relationship in a way that typical young love did not benefit from. Now, she could almost imagine experiencing summer love again.

Deciding her outfit looked fine, Olivia headed to the bathroom to touch up her makeup and fix her hair. She had straightened it and she thought it looked grown up but still youthful in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. With a dab of lip gloss and mascara, she felt ready to face the fireworks – and Fitz. She left the bedroom and went to the kitchen where she finished packing their picnic, collected Emily, and together, they headed out the door.