Disclaimer: I do not own Pushing Daisies…
Let Me Fall-
-Chapter Twelve: Alfredo's Month Away
It has now been four months, three days, and thirty two hours since The Pie Hole waitress, Olive Snook, started seeing the traveling salesman, Alfredo Aldarisio…
The night air of the park buzzed. The stars above shined brightly; trying to beat the glow of the city lights.
Alfredo Aldarisio sighed and scratched his leg. He shifted awkwardly. The bench squeaked.
"Are you alright?" Olive asked concerned, turning to the man beside her.
Alfredo sighed again and looked shyly to Olive. "There's—uh—something I need to tell you," he said quietly and rushed.
"What is it?" Olive asked, turning slightly so she could face the man better.
Alfredo shifted again, "Well, I--." His voice trailed off.
"Yes?"
Alfredo coughed. "Um—."
As Alfredo's voice trailed off and he began to look more and more uncomfortable; Olive felt a small panic begin to rise in her being.
"Fredo?" Olive asked, making Alfredo shift uncomfortably and look away. "Alfredo what is it?" He still didn't answer. "Fredo." The panic began to come through her voice; making it quiver slightly. "What is it?"
"I—." Alfredo's voice trailed off once more.
"Fredo, you're scaring me," Olive said, feeling the panic begin to take hold of her entire being. "Are you running away and joining the circus?"
"I—what?" Alfredo asked, shaking his head. "No."
"You're dying, aren't you? That's it. You're dying," Olive felt her breath hitch as she began to take deep breaths. "You've got Type A Monkeyscoleitis, don't you?"
Alfredo quirked his head in confusion, turning fully to Olive, "Wha--?"
"It's Type B isn't it?!" Olive's voice rose. "Oh my gosh, it's Type B Monkeyscoleitis."
"What? I—no!" Alfredo grabbed both of Olive's hands. "Olive," he said, shaking her hands. He couldn't grab her attention as she continued to breathe heavily, seemingly in the midst of a panic attack. Without thinking, Alfredo reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small vile. He squeezed two drops of the herbal mood enhancer into Olive's slightly open mouth; Olive choked slightly and swallowed.
"What was that for?" Olive asked, sputtering.
"You were beginning to panic," Alfredo replied.
"Was not."
"You made up a disease," Alfredo said, suppressing a chuckle.
"Well you're not telling me something. It's not my fault my mind begins to wander."
Alfredo let out a small laugh.
"What is it Fredo?" Olive asked, taking Alfredo's hand in her again.
Alfredo sighed. "I have to go back on the road," he said quietly.
As Olive took in the information Alfredo told her, her reaction was twofold. First, she was relieved that Alfredo was neither joining the circus nor dying from Type A (or B) Monkeyscoleitis. And then she felt a sadness seep through her body, unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She couldn't quite describe it. But it was there, slowly taking hold; starting at the point where Alfredo's hand clasped her own.
"When do you have to leave?"
"Two days," Alfredo said quietly.
"Oh." Olive said, looking down. "How long will you be gone for?"
Alfredo sighed and shifted once more. "A month," he said, his voice even more quiet than before.
"A month," Olive voice echoed as she looked at their entwined hands. It wasn't forever. And it certainly wasn't that long of a time. A month. Four weeks. Thirty days. How bad could it possibly be?
Week One
Olive Snook was bored. Beyond bored. She was so far beyond bored, bored couldn't even describe it anymore. She sighed and rolled onto her back, switching off the television in the process. She didn't care about the news. Not now, anyways. She hadn't watched the news on a Friday night in she couldn't remember how long.
Tonight was the first Friday night in four months that Olive wasn't spending with Alfredo. Had she been smart, she would have planned her days accordingly; coming up with something to keep her busy. But no. For reasons beyond herself, Olive had become so caught up in the fact that Alfredo would be gone she hadn't been able to think of anything else.
Olive huffed and stretched, curling her toes. She was alone. There was Alfredo. No Chuck. No Ned. There was no one to talk to. Not even Digby was with her on this night. She was alone. And bored. Beyond bored. She was so far beyond bored, bored couldn't even describe it anymore.
Olive groaned as the same thoughts began to run through her mind.
She rolled onto her side, grabbing the current book she was reading off the bed side table. She rolled onto her back once more and held the book open above her head. She tried to focus on the words before her, but the more she read the more the pages began to fill with one single word: Bored. Over and over again, line after line, word after word. Bored began to consume her book, eating all of its literary goodness and reducing it to nothing more than an infuriating mess.
She growled, bringing the book down onto her face; wondering if suffocation by literary device was possible. A sigh escaped her lips once more before throwing the book across the room; letting the thud echo around the room.
She tapped her bed, wiggled her toes, and counted the number of breaths she was taking. Sometime around thirty-two, Olive decided enough was enough. She jumped off her bed and grabbed her shoes, all but shoving them on her feet. She needed to get out; out of her stuffy apartment and all its emptiness.
With only one destination on her mind, Olive left her apartment.
It was hot outside, the summer night sticky; a promise of rain in the morning. And though it was hot, Olive readily welcomed the special warmth of Dempsa's Dining Diner. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, letting the aroma of the quaint diner fill her.
"Olive dear!" Dempsa's voice broke Olive's thoughts. She opened her eyes and smiled as the diner owner approached.
"Hiya Dempsa," she replied with a warm smile.
"Where's your charming other half?" The older woman asked, making Olive blush.
"Away on business," she answered. Dempsa nodded, judging by Olive's tone that this was the first time Alfredo was away since they had started their romance.
"How long is he gone this time?"
"A month," Olive replied, trying with all her might to keep a sigh from ending the sentence.
"Well that's not so bad," Dempsa said, "Now come in deary and I'll fix you something to it."
"Oh that's alright, Dempsa. I'm not really that hungry."
"Then how about a shake or a cup of coffee?"
Olive shook her head and looked at her feet.
The diner owner quirked her head to the side. "Olive," Dempsa said, taking a step forward and lifting the younger woman's chin. "Why did you come here?"
Olive blinked and looked around, as if realizing where she was for the first time. "I don't know," she said quietly.
Dempsa nodded knowingly and smiled; suppressing a small laugh. "Come on deary and sit down, I'll fix you some tea," she said, guiding Olive to the counter and sitting her down.
Olive sighed, kicking her legs as they dangled from the height of the stool. She accepted the cup of tea Dempsa handed her and took a long drink.
One weeks time was beginning to look like too much time.
Week Two
The Pie Maker stuck his head into the kitchen, looking around. "Olive isn't in here is she?"
Chuck stopped cutting peaches and looked up, giving Ned a look that wouldn't be described as anything other than: "Can't-you-see-I'm-the-only-one-here?". "No," she answered, wiping her hands on a towel.
The Pie Maker quickly walked into the room, looking over his shoulder nervously. He walked to the far side of the table, dropping a news paper on the surface. "You have to see this."
"Did you steal Emerson's paper?" Chuck asked, leaning forward slightly.
Ned shook his head. "He put it on the table then left. And I saw this," The Pie Maker said, pointed to a specific article.
The girl named Chuck furrowed her brow as she began to read; before she exploded. "What?!" she shrieked.
"Ssshhhh," Ned whispered, shooting a quick glance to Olive in the other room. She was busy taking a customer's order; oblivious to the happenings in the kitchen.
"They can't be serious!" Chuck whispered harshly.
"Apparently they are."
"But don't they realize--?"
"I don't know." Ned shook his head.
"But they can't do that! They can't."
"And yet they might."
"We can't let her see this."
"But we can't keep her from all the newspapers in town. There's still the possibility that she'll come across it."
"Well we can do our part to prevent it as long as possible," Chuck defended indignantly.
"Don't you think it might be best to tell her now, so she's not shocked later?"
"Sometimes ripping off the band-aide isn't always the best method," Chuck replied. "I still can't believe this."
"Well it might now happen. But it could," The Pie Maker tried to comfort, knowing it wouldn't be enough.
"Hiya y'all," Olive said, walking into the kitchen.
"Hey Olive," Chuck and Ned replied at the same time, looking up from the newspaper before looking back down. Simultaneously their heads snapped up.
"Olive!" Chuck yelled, looking nervously at Ned. "Look Ned, it's Olive!" The Pie Maker laughed awkwardly, taking the newspaper and balling it up, hiding it behind his back. "Olive!" Chuck yelled again, running over to the smaller woman and grabbing her shoulders. "Hi Olive."
The Pie Maker waved.
Olive quirked her brow, looking at Ned and Chuck as if they each had grown three horns. "Um, Hi Chuck. Hi Ned."
"You're look wonderful today Olive," Chuck said in a rush. "Don't you think so Ned, I think so. Just wait until Alfredo sees you."
"Alfredo isn't back for another two weeks," Olive said, slowly taking Chuck's hands off her shoulders. "Are you two alright?"
"Peachy!" Chuck replied.
"Fine," Ned choked out.
"What are you hiding?" Olive asked taking a step around Chuck, trying to peer behind Ned's back. The Pie Maker shifted, keeping the paper out of Olive's gaze.
"Me?" The Pie Maker replied. "I'm not hiding anything."
"Behind your back," Olive said pointing.
"What? Oh this?" Ned brought the wadded newspaper out in front of him. Behind Olive's back, Chuck made a motion for him to throw it away. "Just newspaper."
"Newspaper?" Olive asked, wondering why he had been so keen on hiding the newspaper behind his back.
"Just old newspaper," The Pie Maker replied, walking over to the trash. "That needs to be thrown away." Instead of dropping the paper on top of the trash, Ned shoved it in, pushing it as far down into the trash receptacle as he could without touching any trash.
Olive looked back and forth between a smiling Chuck and a nervous Ned. She shook her head. "I'm going to cut some slices of pie and go back out there," Olive said, pointing to the dining area. The next few minutes passed in silence as Olive cut two pieces of Persimmon Pie. She looked at the other two occupants of the room, shook her head, and left.
When Olive disappeared from sight The Pie Maker and Chuck let out sighs of relief. "You know, you were supposed to throw the paper away when she first came in. Not hide it," Chuck said, walking back to the table.
"I panicked," The Pie Maker said, making Charlotte Charles smile.
"What are we going to do now?" Chuck asked, looking to the trash bin that now held the paper they had been looking at.
"The only thing we can do," The Pie Maker replied. "Wait."
Week Three
"I bought you something."
"Alfredo Aldarisio you did not!" Olive exclaimed, twirling the phone cord in her hand.
There was a chuckle from the other side of the phone. "I did."
"Why?" Olive asked, kicking her feet. She chided herself for feeling like a love-sick school girl.
"Because I felt like it," he replied. "I saw it and it reminded me of you."
Olive felt a blush run down her neck. "Well thank you," she replied quietly. "Unless it's something ugly or gaudy. Then I'll be offended."
Alfredo laughed again. "I promise it's not ugly. It's quite beautiful."
Olive felt the blush cover her ears and cheeks. "So did you sell a lot of stuff today?"
"A good amount," Alfredo replied, his voice distant. Olive imagined him holding the receiver away from his mouth as he chewed a mouthful of the not-that-good room service food he was more than likely eating. "How goes the pie selling business?"
Olive smiled. "Same ol' same ol'. Though each day it gets busier and busier. I think pie is more of a summer food than holiday food."
"How can pie be more of a summer food than holiday food?" Alfredo asked, sounding as if the mere thought of such thing was an insult to humanity. "Pies breed during the holiday season."
Olive snorted. "They're more of a summer food because I'm in the pie business and sales always double during the summer season. People like to come and get pies for their picnics or what ever it is they do during the summer."
"I still think you're wrong."
"Fine," Olive said, twirling the phone cord once more. "Don't believe me."
A quiet dinging noise sounded, making Olive jump. She panicked slightly before realizing that it was the clock hanging in her hall; the chime signaling midnight.
"What is that?" Alfredo asked.
"A clock I have hanging in my apartment," Olive explained. "Apparently it's midnight."
"It is?" Alfredo asked. Olive imagined him turning and looking a near by clock. "It is." There was a quiet shifting sound. "I should probably go," he said quietly. "I need to get up in a few hours."
Olive coughed, covering the sigh that was on the verge of escaping her lips. "Alrighty."
"I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Alfredo asked. Olive nodded, having a feeling Alfredo knew she had responded even though he couldn't see her.
"Goodnight, Fredo," Olive said quietly, feeling a sad pull in her stomach at having to hang up. What was happening to her?
"Goodnight Olive," Alfredo replied.
Olive was about to hang up when she paused. "Fredo?!" She yelled, bringing the phone back to her ear. Olive paused, not sure what had come over her, though all too aware of the words there were hovering on her lips.
"Yes?" Came the confused reply.
Olive paused, wondering if she should speak the words she most wanted to.
"Olive?" Alfredo asked quietly.
"I miss you," Olive said, her voice just above a whisper.
There was a pause. "I miss you too," Alfredo responded.
From her spot on her bed Olive Snook imagined Alfredo Aldarisio smiling; and she allowed her self to smile in return.
Week Four
Olive Snook jumped at the sound of knocking on her door. Quickly, she hopped off her couch, throwing the book she had been reading onto the coffee table. With a bright smile she opened the door, ready to greet the person on the other side. "Oh it's you," she said, her smile fading.
"Hello to you too, cousin," Pim replied, pushing her way into Olive's apartment, a suitcase clutched in her hand.
"I was expecting Alfredo; he said he would be back today or tomorrow," Olive explained. "Though he did say he would call first."
Pim snorted. "You two are so sweet it makes me sick," she said, her tone and smile teasing.
Olive rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here, Pim?"
"Well," Pim said, heaving her suitcase onto a chair. "I know you've been bored out of your mind with your boy friend gone, so I figured we could have a sleep over—for old time's sake."
Olive raised her brow and stepped forward, opening Pim's suitcase. "There are enough clothes in here to last a week."
Pim shrugged. "The air being out in my apartment complex is a mere coincidence."
Olive rolled her eyes again and shoved her cousin, walking back over to the couch and sitting down. "Welcome to my humble abode."
Pim walked over and sat down, "I thank thee."
Olive Snook was pacing.
"Would you sit down?" Pim asked, stretching across Olive's couch, her head hanging over its arm.
"Where is he?"
"He said he would call before got in," Pim said.
"Yesterday! He said he would be back yesterday at the latest and he hasn't even called yet!" Olive nearly yelled, her impatience flaring.
Pim sighed and sat up. "Maybe he couldn't get a train out," Pim tried to reason. "Maybe he had to make another sale. Maybe he had a last minute meeting with someone--,"
Olive froze. Pim continued to ramble on different reasons as to why Alfredo had not come back from his month on the road, but Olive didn't hear a word of it. She was frozen, the single word "someone" echoing in her mind.
That was it. That was why he hadn't called yet. Why he was a day late. He had met someone else. It was the only explanation. It was bound to happen, after all. He was a traveling salesman; always on the road, always meeting new people. Sooner or later he was bound to come across another woman; a woman who was smarter and prettier and funnier and all around better than she was. She should have known it would happen; the past two months had been too perfect. And when it came to romance, perfect and Olive didn't go in the same sentence.
That was it. He would come back and tell her he had met someone else and that would be the end of Olive and Alfredo.
"Olive…Olive…Olive!"
Pim's voice broke through Olive's reverie, her hand waving in front Olive's face.
"Wha?" Olive asked, shaking her head. She was shocked to see Pim standing before, having not realized she had moved.
Pim smirked. "Where did you go?"
"Go?"
"You disappeared on me for a second."
"Sorry," Olive replied, her voice far off and quivering slightly.
Before Pim could respond and knock sounded; pulling both Pim and Olive's attention to the door. "Well on," Pim said.
Olive froze. She didn't want to open the door only to be met with heartache.
"Open it," Pim said, pushing Olive towards the door before going back to sit on the couch.
Knowing she wanted her heart break to happen sooner rather than later, Olive went to open the door. Like a band-aide, she thought. Rip it off just like a band-aide.
Olive opened the door to see Alfredo standing before her. "Hi Olive," he said quietly.
"Hiya," Olive said her voice shy and scared. She looked to the ground.
The two paused, unsure of what to do. After a moment, Olive felt Alfredo grab her hand. Slowly, she looked up, meeting Alfredo's gaze. Here it was. This was it. Olive braced herself for rejection; but there came none. Instead of hearing words of rejection, Alfredo pulled Olive to his body; embracing her in a soft, strong, comforting hug. This could not be the embrace of a man about to break her heart, Olive reasoned. She felt relief flood through her, making her entire body relax.
"Are you okay?" Alfredo whispered into her ear.
Olive nodded, tightening her arms around Alfredo. "I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
Olive shook her head, "I'm perfect."
Alfredo pulled back slightly and smiled. Without a word he reached into the bag that was sitting at his feet and pulled out a long, single rose. Upon closer inspection Olive realized that the rose was made of glass, beautifully blown into the elegant flower that it was.
"For you," Alfredo said. "I hope you like it."
Olive gasped. "Fredo, it's beautiful," she said, carefully taking the item in her hand. She examined it in awe before turning back to a smiling Alfredo. Standing on her toes she kissed Alfredo lightly before circling her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely.
"Thank you," she whispered as Alfredo's arms circled her waist.
From her spot on the couch Pim rolled her eyes and gagged, smiling nonetheless.
Author's Note: Hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you think!
Thanks to all those who reviewed!
Until next time!
