Part Forty-Eight
After
Sunday flew by. There were still a million things remaining to be unpacked and sorted, furniture to be assembled, things to be done. While Elliot worked on the furniture, Olivia tackled as many of the boxes as she could. She arranged everything she could, put away everything within reach, even took the time to hang the shower curtain and lay out the bath mats. No, it wasn't the same as assembling and arranging all the furniture, but it was the best she could do and she thought that making the place look like a home would be appreciated. Elliot was used to that sort of thing, she imagined, he'd always had a wife who made sure the hand towels were folded over the towel rack.
She made another pass at the kitchen as well, taking time to sort out the food that she'd haphazardly put away the day before. She made good use of the cleaning supplies Allyson had brought over as well, cleaning the oven, sink, and counters and then dusting all the furniture. While it looked clean, she had no idea where Stafford had found it. It could have been new from a discount store, or it could have been salvaged from a crime scene somewhere.
As she was emailing Stafford with a list of things they'd decided where his financial responsibility to provide, her phone rang. It was the first time she'd gotten a call with it and the sound was so unfamiliar and unexpected that she had no idea it was her phone.
It seemed Elliot wasn't sure either, as he walked into the room with the beeping phone. "Is this one mine or yours?" Stafford had given them the same model, the only difference was that hers was silver while Elliot's was all black.
"That's mine." She reached for it, looking at the display out of habit. It had to be Stafford, she knew, because no one else had her number. Abby didn't know anyone, so although the number was unfamiliar, she couldn't imagine who else it would be. "Hello?"
Elliot was still standing there, assuming whatever Stafford had to say involved both of them, and so caught the surprise and confusion on Olivia's face when a female voice responded to her.
"Hello, may I speak with Abigail Reilly?"
Olivia figured the pause and initial urge to correct the caller regarding her identity would take a long time to fade. "Um, yeah, yes, this is she."
She could hear a smile in the woman's voice. "Great! This is Kathy Crawford from San Onofre School. Joey Saville gave me your name. I know you prefer to teach high school, but would you be willing to consider working with elementary students?"
She met Elliot's eyes for a moment, unprepared for anything resembling normal life, certainly not a career change, despite having known it was coming from Stafford's warning. "Sure, ok." Turning back to the desk, she grabbed a notepad and a pen, quickly jotting down the woman's name before she forgot it.
"Joey said you're just moving to the area and I'm sure you weren't expecting to be working until the fall, but, well, we're in a bit of a spot, and so I was hoping you might consider helping us out." As the eager, excited woman paused for breath, Olivia wondered if she should just declare that she wasn't working period.
But then she realized what she was being offered – work, a job, income, independence, freedom.
Thank god.
"We just moved in yesterday, but what did you have in mind?" Olivia tried to ignore it when Elliot moved closer, trying to read her note.
"You'd be helping us out so much! We've got a brand new summer camp program about to start for academically gifted children in addition to our regular summer school program and our English teacher just got word that her husband is transferring to Camp Lejeune in a week, so you can see we could use your help here. Are you available to interview tomorrow?"
"Um-" The fact was Olivia had found her calling, her career. She hadn't been on a job interview in nearly twenty years and the skills needed to get herself accepted to the academy were different than those needed to get a teaching job. "Tomorrow? Yeah, that's fine."
Kathy quickly ran through the particulars, giving her the address after they'd agreed on a time. Olivia felt good about herself when she hung up the phone. Maybe she could avoid ever having another one of those scenes at the supermarket with Elliot. She took another piece of paper from the notepad and rewrote Kathy's name, along with the address and time. Elliot stared silently the entire time.
Finally she turned to him. "What?"
He was pissed. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched, his arms folded across his middle. "What the hell are you doing?"
Another fight with the man was the last thing she needed, but it appeared she didn't have much of a choice. "Apparently they don't want to wait until fall for me to start working. I have to go meet someone tomorrow."
Continuing to glower at her, he nodded at the note. "At San Onofre? You do realize that's like twenty miles away, right?"
Well, no, she hadn't realized that, but she wasn't about to tell him. "I'll take the car."
"It's my car and I'll be taking it to work."
Olivia contemplated the desk and decided, if needed, the stapler would do the most damage if she were to launch it at his head. "You'll be at work all day. You won't need it."
"I'll need it to get there. I'm supposed to report halfway across the damn base. You'll have to cancel." He moved to the doorway, as though he really thought the discussion was over. "Besides, you can't drive yet, so I guess that's settled." His face was quite smug when he looked back at her as he stepped into the hall.
"Settled my ass," she muttered as soon as he was out of earshot. She closed the door to the office and picked up her phone, dialing Stafford's number before she gave herself a chance to think about it. The call went to voice mail and Olivia was glad for it. It would be that much easier if she didn't have to make small talk. "Mr. Stafford, this is Abby Reilly. I have a job interview and Ben needs the car, so we're going to need that second car you promised us by ten o'clock tomorrow. Thanks."
After spending the evening avoiding Elliot, Olivia was surprised to find him sound asleep in her bed. Of course, they had discussed having him sleep there in the hopes that they might be able to get some sleep rather than being tortured all night with her nightmares, but she still wasn't expecting to find her half-dressed, or mostly not dressed since she couldn't see under the blanket bunch at his waist, partner waiting for her in bed. With a shake of her head, she corrected herself. He wasn't her partner. He was her husband. And therefore it was perfectly natural for her to climb into the bed and snuggle under the blankets beside him.
But that knowledge didn't stop her from jumping when he rolled toward her a moment later, sleepily mumbling something into her ear and wrapping his arm around her. She felt the roughness of hair against her legs and realized that he'd actually gotten into her bed in only his underwear. She wanted to wake him up and kill him. Son of a bitch was teasing her. Or he was suddenly so self-involved that he didn't realize how awkward the situation would be for her.
Sighing, she tried not to feel the heat of his body as it pressed against hers, but when his hot breath brushed across her neck, she knew it was going to be a long, uncomfortable night.
Amazingly, the next thing she was aware of was an alarm clock ringing. She lay there, blinking into the darkness, wondering at the fact that she'd managed to sleep through the night. Elliot smacked the clock and immediately returned to plaster himself against her back, his arm wrapping around her again. It was no wonder then that she'd slept, she realized, because he'd been there, holding her, promising her with his presence that she was safe.
The sun was only starting to peek over the horizon when the alarm rang again a few minutes later. Elliot groaned and sat up to silence it once more.
"Liv?" The bed shifted as he stood up.
She rolled over, trying not to stare at his nearly bare body while he poked through the drawers of the dresser. "It's too early for work, isn't it?" She didn't actually have any idea of the time; she just wanted him to get back in bed with her.
He smiled at her as he pulled on a t-shirt and shorts. "I'm going to go for a run." He sat down at the foot of the bed to pull on socks and sneakers, but he stopped halfway through to look at her. "Do you want me to stay until it's light?"
Shaking her head, she tried to pretend not to care. "No, it's ok. It'll be light soon."
"If you're sure." He waited for a nod. "Be back in a half hour or so."
"Just don't expect me to make breakfast." Olivia rolled over and tried to coax herself back to sleep, knowing that she didn't stand a chance without Elliot. When she heard the front door closing behind him, she started to feel guilty for having called Stafford without telling him. But then she recalled the way he'd dismissed her idea of working and trying to support herself somewhat and decided he needed to be reminded that she wasn't helpless.
Besides, she thought, it was always easier to ask forgiveness than to get permission and really, it wasn't like she needed his permission anyway.
By the time Elliot returned, she was sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping a cup of instant coffee, longing for the days when Elliot would arrive at work with a delicious cup of coffee and a decadent pastry for her as a peace offering of some sort. He nodded at her before he went upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. She continued to feel guilty, pouring herself a bowl of cereal so she could take her handful of morning meds.
In no time at all, he was back, dressed in tan printed camouflage pants and a close-fitting tan tee-shirt. Though his pants weren't quite at tight as his shirt, they fit him quite nicely and gave Olivia something to appreciate. He paid her no attention as he dumped cereal in a bowl.
He leaned against the sink while he ate, pausing after a few bites, finally noticing the way she was staring. "You ok?"
Between the guilt and the embarrassment, she couldn't say anything. She nodded and ducked her head, staring at the milk and soggy Wheat-O's in her bowl.
"I've got to go, but when I get home maybe we can figure something out about getting you to that interview. We've got until the fall semester, right?"
Wincing, she glanced up. "Mmmmpph," she muttered into her coffee. The guilt doubled and she sagged under its weight.
He smiled, appearing to be ignorant of her dilemma. "I'll call you when I get a minute."
He was going to call to check on her. Because she'd be alone. Because he'd be worried. Because, she supposed, husbands called home during a break at their new job to check on their new wives all alone in their new houses.
She kind of hoped Stafford wouldn't come through with the car, if only to ease her guilt.
Stafford, however, was nothing if not reliable. At five minutes after eight, there was a knock on the door. Olivia found Becky on the porch, holding a duffel bag and offering her a set of keys. She smiled, tempted to tell the girl to take the car back.
"Hi, Becky."
Becky smiled. "Good morning, Mrs. Reilly." She lifted the bag. "Doug said these belong to you." Then she jingled the keys. "And here are your car keys. Have a good day!" She barely waited for Olivia to accept the items before she dashed back to the curb, where she climbed into the passenger seat of a car.
Olivia wasn't sure, but she thought it was Stafford. She waved at them, assuming she should be polite since they were hardly responsible for her actions.
Sitting in the driveway was a light green Mazda and further inspection of the duffel bag contents revealed several pairs of curtains, new in their packages, as well as gift cards for a home improvement store. Sighing, she closed the bag and tossed it on the couch. Stafford clearly thought that handing over gift cards to pay for things he'd forgotten was the easiest solution. Stafford clearly had never gone shopping with Elliot and Olivia.
By ten, she was sitting in the parking lot of San Onofre school. As nervous as she'd been about driving, it had gone well. The new car was an automatic, as opposed to her Mustang, making driving about as passive an activity as sitting on the couch. She was early for the meeting, and so was just sitting there, staring at a lot of cars that all looked the same and wondering if she'd be able to find hers among them.
Her phone buzzed, the display reading "Ben" and bringing a smile to her face. When she answered, however, she remembered that she was a backstabbing two-faced bitch and wished she had let it go to voice mail. Except, she realized, he would have panicked and run home to find out what happened to her, only to find that she wasn't home.
"So, apparently this is what a coffee break is for." He was smiling and it only made her feel worse.
"For calling me?"
"For sitting in an empty room with a mug of bad coffee for twenty minutes with nothing to do."
She snickered, fondly remembering their kind of coffee breaks where they barely had time to fill their mugs halfway before they got a call to race somewhere else. "I miss it too."
"Yeah, at least I have something to do besides play Suzy Homemaker. We'll figure something out for you, Li-Abby."
She closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn't do it. Not another minute. She didn't like to be lied to. She didn't like someone sneaking around behind her back. She couldn't do it to him.
"El, I'm at the school. I'm going to the interview. I want to work so I can pay my share, or at least as much as I can." She waited, hearing plenty in the long silence that followed.
"How did you get there?" His voice was flat, even, perfectly measured.
He was pissed as fuck.
"I asked Stafford to bring me that car he promised. He did."
"Jesus, Ol-" He was fuming. She could see perfectly well the face he was making, the grimace, the way he'd be chewing on his lip to keep from screaming, the motion of his fingers curling into fists while he looked for something to hit. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're not supposed to be driving! It's dangerous. You could get hurt. You could cause an accident. You aren't cleared to work yet either. What are you thinking?"
"Are you done?" She felt like she was sixteen and getting reamed out by her mother for staying out too late. "I'm going on an interview. I might not even get the job. And driving on a military base at twenty-five is probably less dangerous than sitting in a house all day watching television."
"You lied to me."
She squeezed her eyes closed, finding that the guilt wasn't alleviated at all even after having come clean. "No, I just didn't tell you I didn't do what you said."
"It's the same damn thing-" His words cut off abruptly and Olivia could hear voices in the background. "We'll talk about it when I get home. Good luck at your interview, honey." Although his words were polite, the biting tone revealed plenty he didn't want to say in front of coworkers.
She didn't bother making a snarky comment back. She just hung the phone up and tried to blink back the tears.
