Lyrics to "Bring on the Rain" Copyright 2000 by Jo Dee Messina
(Chapter 28. New Year's Eve. A fancy restaurant.)
"Steve, sweetie, are you ok?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, fine," he lied. The truth was Steve was more nervous than he'd ever been in his life. Everything tasted like sawdust, and his food lay in his stomach like so much wet cement. He never should have ordered the lasagna, especially after the broschetta and a salad. He smiled, thinking he'd be just fine after dessert. Then it would all be over.
"The lasagna was delicious," Olivia raved. "I've never had better in my life. Grazie," she said as the waiter took her plate. To Steve, she said, "Thank you so much for bringing me here. I haven't had Italian food this good since I was in Italy."
"Well," he said, "Antonio's from the old country, so it ought to be good. Besides, I wanted tonight to be special, hon. We're celebrating."
"Yeah, like everyone else in the world," she grinned. "I'm surprised you could get a table on such short notice."
Steve smiled back, and said, "I know the owner, and we're celebrating more than just the New Year." For the past few days, he'd been very busy, and he'd been keeping his activities a secret from everyone but his dad and Jesse. Tonight, Olivia would know his news.
"Oh, what else are we celebrating?"
Breaking into a huge grin, he said, "I go back to work on Monday."
"Aaah!" She jumped up, came around the table, and hugged him. "Steve! That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you!"
All he could do was grin and nod.
Suddenly conscious of the looks they were getting, Olivia blushed and returned to her seat. Steve grinned even wider thinking of the attention she would draw when he gave her the ring.
"You big stinker! That's why you've been busy every time I called to get together, huh? Tell me all about it."
"Well, sweetheart, there's not much to tell. Jesse gave me my final release the day after we went to Disney World, I had already passed the department psych evaluation, and I met the firearms and physical requirements yesterday and today. Are you really happy for me?"
Olivia's face rumpled into a frown.
"Why wouldn't I be happy for you, Steve? You've been working so hard for this for four months."
Steve shrugged and said, "Well, my job's dangerous, and I thought you might be upset that I was actually going back to it."
She reached across the table and took his hand. "Thanksgiving Day on the beach I told you I'd say my prayers and trust God with the rest, remember?"
He nodded.
"I meant it. I always say exactly what I mean. I love you, Steve, and I know you love your job." She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. "It's who you are and what you do, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
Steve had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak. "You know this time I was lucky."
Olivia shook her head. "No, you were under the protection of Providence. Next time you might not be. So we just have to make every moment count."
Steve laughed slightly, shook his head, and said, mostly to himself, "Amazing."
"What?"
"Everybody I know, and I do mean everybody, gets a little weird about the dangerous aspects of my job. Way back when I was in uniform, I even dated another cop, and she decided she couldn't handle the worry. You just accept it. How?"
"Faith."
At his questioning look, Olivia elaborated.
"I told you before, I believe God has a plan for you, for me, and for us. No matter what else happens, we'll be together as long as He wants and as long as we need to be. If He ever decides to separate us, He'll make sure we're both all right. Knowing that God's looking after you, I don't have any reason to worry."
Steve smiled. "I can't imagine having that kind of faith, but I'm so glad you do."
A waiter glided over to their table and asked, "Would the __Signore__ and __Signorina__ like-a to order dessert?"
Steve nodded, "Yes. Actually, I've arranged with Antonio for something special. Just tell him Steve Sloan is ready for dessert, and he'll know what to do."
"__Sí, Signore__," the waiter said and glided smoothly away.
"What are you up to?" Olivia asked suspiciously.
"Wait and see," Steve told her.
Moments later, the waiter returned with a silver tray covered with a large dome. It was an elegant and imposing piece of tableware, and several other diners paused their conversations to see what special dish might be beneath the cover.
"Is it chocolate?" Olivia asked excitedly.
"Even better," Steve told her.
"There is no such thing."
"Take a look."
At a nod from Steve, the waiter lifted the cover from the tray. Olivia's gasp and the ooh's and aah's from curious diners nearby drew the attention of others who were not already watching.
There on the platter sat the tattered, naked teddy bear from Christmas day. Steve had made a small banner that read, "Marry Me" and had painstakingly stitched it to the bear's paws so that he appeared to be holding it up. He leaned against a dark blue velvet box that was opened to reveal a diamond ring.
"Oh, Steve," Olivia said in a voice barely above a whisper. "It's stunning."
After days of searching for the perfect piece with his dad, he'd broken down and had the ring made by the same designer who had made the necklace for Christmas. It was a rush order and it had cost him a small fortune, but this evening would be worth it. The band came up in two nautilus- shaped swirls of white gold on either side of a marquis cut diamond. The one on the left sat below the horizontal axis of the diamond and turned clockwise, and the one on the right sat above the middle and turned counterclockwise. Tiny sapphires and very small pearls glittered along the outermost curve of each swirl. Steve thought it matched the watch and necklace beautifully.
As Olivia picked up the box, Steve came around their table and got down on one knee. He cleared his throat, feeling somewhat unnerved by the audience they had collected.
"It's lovely, Steve. Just lovely." Olivia continued to admire the ring.
When she finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears in her eyes. He was encouraged to know she was so moved.
"Olivia, would you…"
She stopped him gently with a hand on his lips.
"Steve," she said, closing the box.
Steve was painfully aware of the murmurs of dismay in the background as she took his hand, turned it palm up, put the box in his hand, and curled his fingers around it.
"It's absolutely beautiful, but I can't accept it. Not yet."
Suddenly his insides were awash in acid. Hot tears came to his eyes, and there was a tightness in his chest.
Still on one knee, he began to speak. "It's been four and a half months, Liv. We've discussed our future. We used words like 'forever' and 'the rest of our lives.' What are you doing?"
"Steve, I just…"
"DAMN YOU!" he roared in fury, oblivious to the other diners. Surging to his feet, he towered over her and was shamefully pleased to see her cower in fear.
"Four and a half months, Liv," he spat through clenched teeth. "You owned me from the first time I smelled your perfume, and you knew it. You never *once* hinted that you would do this. Four and a half months. You BITCH!"
Anger and hurt coursed through his veins as he threw some bills on the table and said bitterly, "That should cover dinner. You can call your own damned cab."
As he turned to walk away, she leaped up and clung to his arm.
"Steve, please, just…"
He flung her off. She hit the wall with a thud and slumped to the floor weeping.
"Go to hell."
He turned away again and stalked out, leaving her alone on the floor of the restaurant, clinging to the pitiful, naked teddy bear.
Mark answered the phone on the third ring. He had decided to turn in early expecting to celebrate with Steve and Olivia into the early hours of the morning. He wondered who could be calling, and he hoped it wasn't the hospital.
"MARK!" The voice on the other end of the line was so distraught he didn't know at first who was talking. Then he heard a clatter and a bang and a string of irate Italian in the background.
"Who is this? Amanda? Olivia? Carol? What's wrong?"
"It's ME," the woman sobbed. "Did you know he was going to propose? Why didn't you warn me? Oh, Mark, I've ruined everything. What should I do?"
Olivia started to sob hysterically, and for several moments, Mark was helpless to calm her. In the background he heard an accented voice, "Iss all-a right, __signorina__, Mista Steve, he-a good-a man. He'll come a- back. I know he-a love you. Iss all-a right."
"Antonio!" Mark yelled into the phone, glad now to at least know where she was. "Antonio!"
The accented voice came on the line and the sobbing faded into the background.
"Yes-a, Doctor-a Sloan? What can I do-a you for?"
"I need you to calm Olivia down so I can talk to her. Get her a drink of water. No, make that a shot of whiskey."
"I already tried-a that, Doctor-a Sloan, more than a-once. She's about-a half-a loaded now." There was a huge clatter of pots and pans apparently falling, and a long string of Italian curses.
In spite of himself, Mark had to smile. Profanity sounded the same in any language. Antonio came back on the line.
"You want I should-a give her more-a whiskey, Doctor-a Sloan?"
"No! Antonio, don't do that. Can you get her to someplace quieter than the kitchen? What about your office?"
"Will-a do, Doctor. We're on-a our way a-now."
Mark could hear Antonio soothing Olivia in a mixture of English and Italian, and he thought her heard Olivia respond. Finally, the noise of the kitchen subsided, and Mark heard Antonio say, "You can-a talk to the Doctor a-now?"
Then Antonio came back on the line. "She's a-calm now. Here-a she is."
"Thanks, Antonio."
When Olivia's voice came back on the line, she was clearly upset, but no longer hysterical.
"He proposed, Mark."
"He told me he was going to. You said no."
"I said NOT YET!" There was an ominous silence for a moment, as she struggled at the edge of hysteria. Finally, she resumed speaking. "He was so angry, Mark. He yelled at me and cussed me out and called me names. When I tried to stop him, he knocked me down. I'm afraid of what might happen. He's so upset, I don't know what he might do."
Mark was worried about his son, but there was nothing he could do right now. He needed to make Olivia realize that, too.
"Liv," he said in a voice that belied his own concerns. "You can't do anything about Steve, but you can take care of yourself, and when he comes to his senses, he'll be glad you did. You said he knocked you down. Are you hurt?"
She sniffled into the phone and said, "Maybe some bruises, nothing serious."
"Why didn't you say yes, Liv?"
"Oh, Mark." There was a long pause, followed by her answer in a tone of resignation. "Steve is a man of honor. I couldn't let him make that promise before he knew everything about my past. If he's going to go into this, it has to be with his eyes wide open. No illusions, no misconceptions, and no secrets."
Mark was beginning to hatch a plan, but he needed one more piece of information first. "If he had known everything, would you have said yes, Liv?"
"Of course I would."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Ok, I think I know what to do. Are you ok to drive home, or did Antonio really get you drunk trying to calm you with whiskey?"
He heard a soft chuckle. "I'm taking a cab, but I'm really 'not-a half-a loaded'."
Mark had to smile again. Even that first day, Steve had admired the way Olivia used humor to ease stress.
"Good. Then take the cab home and wait there. Try to get some rest, but be ready to explain things to Steve. I'm going to see if I can get him to your place tonight."
"Ok. Thanks, Mark."
He hung up the phone and got his cell phone to call Jesse and Amanda. He wanted the regular line free in case Steve tried to reach him. A half an hour later, he hung up the phone with a smirk on his face. Jesse and Amanda had both agreed to help, so wherever Steve went to vent, he would gently be directed back to Olivia. He was fairly certain that if they could get Steve to her house tonight, she could make him understand.
Mark went down to Steve's apartment, packed Steve's overnight bag, and put the charley bar across the sliding glass door. Then, taking the bag and Steve's brace with him, he went upstairs and fastened the deadbolts. He left the door to the deck open for now and stood out in the night air waiting for his son. He had the bag and the brace at his side.
While he waited, Mark wondered repeatedly if he was doing the right thing. He kept coming back to the same two facts. Steve loved Olivia and wanted to marry her. Olivia loved Steve and wanted to marry him, but not before he knew about all the secrets in her past. She had to be the right one. Would any other woman go to such lengths to protect his son?
He was about to start the same argument with himself again when Steve finally appeared at the foot of the stairs.
"Dad? Could you go downstairs and open my door? Something seems to be blocking it shut."
Mark looked down at his son and prayed he was doing the right thing.
"It's the charley bar, son. I locked you out."
In a very puzzled tone, Steve asked, "Why?"
"You need to talk to Olivia, son."
"Don't go there, Dad. It's been a rough night."
"I have to, Steve. I've always tried to stay out of your personal life as much as possible, but I love you, and I can't let you make this mistake. You at least owe her an apology for swearing at her and knocking her down."
"I can do that over the phone in the morning, Dad. Right now I just need some sleep."
Mark tossed Steve's overnight bag down the stairs to land at his feet. Then he dropped the brace on the sand at his side so as not to damage it. "You'll do it in person, tonight, or you'll not be sleeping here."
Mark turned and went into the house without another word. He dropped the charley bar in place and stood there waiting to see what his son would do. After a moment, Steve came bounding up the steps. He came to the glass doors, looked pleadingly at his father, and shouted, "Dad! Dad, why are you doing this to me?"
With a lump in his throat, Mark shouted back through the glass, "Because I love you, and you love her, and the two of you deserve each other." Then Mark drew the curtains and went to bed, though he knew he'd get little sleep that night.
Jesse was watching late-night reruns of Gilligan's Island when the doorbell rang. Mark had called about half an hour ago to say Steve was probably on his way. As he opened the door, he grinned and said, "Right on time."
"Huh?" said a haggard-looking Steve.
"Your dad called and said to expect you about now."
"Oh. Did he tell you I'd be asking to spend the night, too?"
"Yup, and he said to tell you no."
"Look, Jess…"
Jesse stepped aside and jerked his head toward the interior of his apartment. "Come on in for a bit. We need to talk before I send you on your way."
With a sigh, Steve stepped inside and headed for the couch.
"Why are you and Dad conspiring to make me go back to Olivia for more humiliation, Jess? I was hoping for some sympathy, you know?"
"You can forget about sympathy, Steve, and you might as well know Amanda is in on it, too. As for why, well, we have all agreed that you and Olivia are not going to break up just yet." Jesse sat beside his friend and gave him a reassuring slap on the back. "We think you've just suffered a breakdown in communication, and if you talk it out, everything will be ok. She's at home waiting for you, and short of a motel, that's the only place you're going to spend the night."
Steve shook his head stubbornly. "You weren't there, Jess. You don't know. No amount of talking can fix this."
"Then maybe you need to try some listening."
"Huh?"
"I might not have been there tonight, Steve," Jesse agreed, "but I have been here since August. I didn't have to be in the restaurant to know this was just a misunderstanding. Don't be a fool, buddy. Go to her, hear her out, and fix it."
"Je-ess," Steve pleaded as his voice broke. He looked at his friend with tears in his eyes, but couldn't squeeze another word past the lump in his throat.
Jesse put a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders and nudged him off the couch saying, "Come here, I want you to see something."
Steve reluctantly followed Jesse back to the bedroom where Jesse opened a drawer and took out a small box, which he opened to reveal a glittering diamond ring.
"I've had this for over a year, but I'm afraid to give it to Susan."
"Trust me, Jess," Steve said bitterly. "It's not worth the risk."
"Maybe not for me right now," Jesse agreed, "but for you I think it is."
"Jesse, she turned me down flat. She didn't even let me ask the question."
Jesse pursed his lips in thought and finally said, "You were angry and hurt, and you totally lost it. You didn't let her finish what she had to say, did you?"
"Dammit, Jess, she said no. What more was there?"
Jesse closed the velvet-covered box and put it away again. "Did she really say no, or did you just hear no, Steve?"
Steve wrinkled his brow in confusion. "What does it matter?" He threw his hands in the air, "She still rejected me."
"With Liv, it could mean a lot. Think about the misunderstanding you two had the day you helped her unpack. That almost led to a disaster. Don't let this be another one. You told me yourself, she's very literal, direct, and plain spoken. There's a big difference between 'no', and 'not right now.' If she didn't want to marry you, she would have said 'no'. What did she really say?"
Pure panic crossed Steve's face. "Oh, dear God, Jess. I don't know."
Staring hard into Steve's eyes, he said, "Think, about it! What were her exact words?"
Steve waved one hand in the air beside his head, trying to grasp the memory of those words. When he caught it, he snapped his fingers. "She said, 'not yet,' Jess! My God, it wasn't a no, it was 'not yet.'"
He started babbling excitedly. "Thank you so much, Jess. I have to go. Call my dad, and for God's sake call Liv. Tell her I'm coming."
Jesse laughed out loud and called to his friend's quickly retreating back, "I'm on it!"
When Steve arrived at Olivia's house, the stereo was blasting so loud she couldn't hear him knock. He peeked through a gap in the curtains at the window beside the door and saw her dancing to the music. She had her arms wrapped around herself, the teddy bear nestled against her breast. He used his key to let himself in.
"Tomorrow's another day," Olivia sang with the stereo. "And I'm thirsty anyway, so bring on the rain…"
Holding the bear in one hand, she threw her arms open and her head back, and she started to twirl slowly in the center of the room. She looked perfectly at ease and secure in the knowledge that whatever went wrong in her world would soon right itself. He envied her that calm. As he watched, unheeded, he became transfixed, and slowly, her tranquility seeped into him. His breathing deepened, his heartbeat slowed, and his troubled thoughts stilled. A sense of peace washed over him, and he knew without question that everything would work out between them.
He called her name above the music.
She stopped her spin and walked over to him, still swaying and singing along with the music. She didn't stop walking until she stood against him. Then she wrapped her arms around him, her hands coming up to embrace his shoulders. He slung his arms low around her hips and lifted her to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, buried her face in the crook of his neck, and sang.
"Tomorrow's another day, and I am not afraid. So bring on the rain."
Steve recognized the song as one of her favorites. She said it celebrated life's difficulties and reveled in the strength to endure them. He continued to dance and sway to the music while holding her in his arms. He worked his way across the room, and as the song ended, she reached out and cut the stereo off.
Still holding her, he whispered into her hair, "Forgive me?"
She shifted herself against him and purred, "Of course."
"We need to talk, don't we?"
He felt her nod and heard her say, "A lot. But not tonight. Let's go to the kitchen. I have tea ready."
He carried her to the kitchen, still swaying to the tune she was humming, and set her back on her feet. She reached up and pulled his face to hers and gave him a kiss that was so sweet and loving it filled him up and left him wanting all at the same time.
She poured two cups of tea, doctored them with milk and sugar, set out some graham crackers, and sat down to face him.
For a while, she just stirred her tea and stared at the whirlpool she created in her cup. Finally, she said, "Did you know I speak five languages?"
He was surprised by her non sequitur and just said, "Really?"
She nodded. "English, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and German."
"No kidding."
She folded her hands and rested them on the table in front of her. "I really do, fluently. It's a gift, but I still don't have the words to say how much I love you or to describe how happy you make me. The Spanish have an expression, _media naranja_. Literally, it means half an orange, but really, it means 'the one who completes me'. It's as close as I can come to what you mean to me, but you do more than make me whole. You make me feel, and want, and need, and give. You've brought me back into the world and made me a part of it again. You make me love, Steve, and I haven't been able to do that in years. I've been afraid."
She looked up, and Steve could see tears shimmering in her eyes.
"Then why didn't you say yes, Liv?"
She looked down again. It was obvious she found it difficult to look him in the eye.
"You asked too soon."
"I don't understand, Liv."
She twiddled her thumbs and studied her nails for a long time before answering.
"There are things, terrible things, I haven't told you."
He reached out and stilled her fidgeting hands. She drew away.
With a sigh, he said, "Sweetheart, you've told me about what your granddad did and how you feel about it. You told me all about Keith and Ted, and about trying to kill yourself. I'm still here. If I haven't left yet, what makes you think something else will make me go?"
"Oh, Steve!" she wailed rising from the table. She walked to the glass door that opened onto the deck and stood looking out at the night. "In the grand scheme of things, that was just the little stuff. Until I met you, my life was a complete disaster. For years, I just wanted to die, and when I couldn't manage to kill myself, I just stopped feeling. I stopped caring."
He could see her shoulders tremble. She turned to face him, and drew her arms tightly around herself.
"Then I fell for you. I can't let you make any kind of promises to me until you know what a mess I really am. I'm afraid, Steve. I'm afraid if you really knew me that you'd run the other way. I can't let you get any closer until I tell you everything, but I'm afraid if I tell you everything, I'll lose you. I keep trying to give myself to you completely, Steve," she tapped her chest with her fist, "but that means giving you all of this, too, and I'm afraid it's more of a burden than you'll be willing to accept."
He rose from his seat and went to put his arms around her, but she stepped back.
"I asked my dad about your past. He didn't tell me anything, but he said I'd be able to handle everything you would tell me."
"Your dad thinks he knows all about it, but he's wrong. He knows all the facts, Steve, but not the truth. I've never told anyone the truth. I've got to tell you, or I'll never be able to love you the way I need to."
Steve's heart grieved to see Olivia suffer so intensely, but he didn't know what to do. He decided to ask.
"What do you want of me, Liv? Name it."
She thought a minute. Steve saw it in her eyes the moment she reached a decision.
"Give me the ring."
Confused, he took it out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She took him by the hand and led him through the house and to the garage. She went directly to the repugnantly pink jeep, opened the glove box, and threw the ring inside. Then she shut the glove box, turned to Steve, and said, "Pretend tonight never happened. I need…six weeks. I promise I'll tell you everything, and in six weeks, if you still want to ask, I'll say yes. If you don't want to ask me, you can take the ring, walk away, and forget about me, or we can still be friends, whatever you want, but for now, tonight never happened. Neither of us owes the other anything."
Hesitantly, Steve agreed, "Ok…"
Olivia hopped up and sat on the hood of the jeep.
"I'll be asking you to do some things that might seem strange to you, and we're going to have to make a trip. There are things I have to tell you that I just can't talk about here. You'll have to go home with me. It'll be a long trip, at least a couple of weeks. I know you haven't even really gone back to work yet, so if time off is a problem, you can take an unpaid leave and I'll cover your expenses, but you have to come back east with me."
Steve frowned, but said, "Agreed. Liv, I'll do whatever it takes. I just want to know we'll be together forever. Just tell me what you need."
She nodded.
"I need six weeks."
"Six weeks?"
"Yes. It will take me at least that long to work out how to tell you my story."
He nodded. "Ok. Six weeks."
"Meet me in my office at quarter to one on Thursday. Plan to spend the whole afternoon with me. We'll start there."
"Right…Uh, Liv?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I spend the night?"
She smiled shyly. "I was hoping you'd ask."
Steve spent the night in Olivia's bed, holding her close, and keeping watch. Every time she stirred in her sleep, he'd hush her. He counted six nightmares. She'd weep and cry out, and scream for her parents and siblings, but she never woke. He didn't know what terrible secrets were trying to pull her away from him, but he wasn't going to let them win. No ghost or nightmare from her past would pull them apart. He was in her life to stay, and in six weeks, he would get that ring out of the glove box of the jeep and ask her to marry him.
He was certain he would ask.
He was even more certain she would say yes.
He had faith.
(Chapter 28. New Year's Eve. A fancy restaurant.)
"Steve, sweetie, are you ok?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, fine," he lied. The truth was Steve was more nervous than he'd ever been in his life. Everything tasted like sawdust, and his food lay in his stomach like so much wet cement. He never should have ordered the lasagna, especially after the broschetta and a salad. He smiled, thinking he'd be just fine after dessert. Then it would all be over.
"The lasagna was delicious," Olivia raved. "I've never had better in my life. Grazie," she said as the waiter took her plate. To Steve, she said, "Thank you so much for bringing me here. I haven't had Italian food this good since I was in Italy."
"Well," he said, "Antonio's from the old country, so it ought to be good. Besides, I wanted tonight to be special, hon. We're celebrating."
"Yeah, like everyone else in the world," she grinned. "I'm surprised you could get a table on such short notice."
Steve smiled back, and said, "I know the owner, and we're celebrating more than just the New Year." For the past few days, he'd been very busy, and he'd been keeping his activities a secret from everyone but his dad and Jesse. Tonight, Olivia would know his news.
"Oh, what else are we celebrating?"
Breaking into a huge grin, he said, "I go back to work on Monday."
"Aaah!" She jumped up, came around the table, and hugged him. "Steve! That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you!"
All he could do was grin and nod.
Suddenly conscious of the looks they were getting, Olivia blushed and returned to her seat. Steve grinned even wider thinking of the attention she would draw when he gave her the ring.
"You big stinker! That's why you've been busy every time I called to get together, huh? Tell me all about it."
"Well, sweetheart, there's not much to tell. Jesse gave me my final release the day after we went to Disney World, I had already passed the department psych evaluation, and I met the firearms and physical requirements yesterday and today. Are you really happy for me?"
Olivia's face rumpled into a frown.
"Why wouldn't I be happy for you, Steve? You've been working so hard for this for four months."
Steve shrugged and said, "Well, my job's dangerous, and I thought you might be upset that I was actually going back to it."
She reached across the table and took his hand. "Thanksgiving Day on the beach I told you I'd say my prayers and trust God with the rest, remember?"
He nodded.
"I meant it. I always say exactly what I mean. I love you, Steve, and I know you love your job." She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. "It's who you are and what you do, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
Steve had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak. "You know this time I was lucky."
Olivia shook her head. "No, you were under the protection of Providence. Next time you might not be. So we just have to make every moment count."
Steve laughed slightly, shook his head, and said, mostly to himself, "Amazing."
"What?"
"Everybody I know, and I do mean everybody, gets a little weird about the dangerous aspects of my job. Way back when I was in uniform, I even dated another cop, and she decided she couldn't handle the worry. You just accept it. How?"
"Faith."
At his questioning look, Olivia elaborated.
"I told you before, I believe God has a plan for you, for me, and for us. No matter what else happens, we'll be together as long as He wants and as long as we need to be. If He ever decides to separate us, He'll make sure we're both all right. Knowing that God's looking after you, I don't have any reason to worry."
Steve smiled. "I can't imagine having that kind of faith, but I'm so glad you do."
A waiter glided over to their table and asked, "Would the __Signore__ and __Signorina__ like-a to order dessert?"
Steve nodded, "Yes. Actually, I've arranged with Antonio for something special. Just tell him Steve Sloan is ready for dessert, and he'll know what to do."
"__Sí, Signore__," the waiter said and glided smoothly away.
"What are you up to?" Olivia asked suspiciously.
"Wait and see," Steve told her.
Moments later, the waiter returned with a silver tray covered with a large dome. It was an elegant and imposing piece of tableware, and several other diners paused their conversations to see what special dish might be beneath the cover.
"Is it chocolate?" Olivia asked excitedly.
"Even better," Steve told her.
"There is no such thing."
"Take a look."
At a nod from Steve, the waiter lifted the cover from the tray. Olivia's gasp and the ooh's and aah's from curious diners nearby drew the attention of others who were not already watching.
There on the platter sat the tattered, naked teddy bear from Christmas day. Steve had made a small banner that read, "Marry Me" and had painstakingly stitched it to the bear's paws so that he appeared to be holding it up. He leaned against a dark blue velvet box that was opened to reveal a diamond ring.
"Oh, Steve," Olivia said in a voice barely above a whisper. "It's stunning."
After days of searching for the perfect piece with his dad, he'd broken down and had the ring made by the same designer who had made the necklace for Christmas. It was a rush order and it had cost him a small fortune, but this evening would be worth it. The band came up in two nautilus- shaped swirls of white gold on either side of a marquis cut diamond. The one on the left sat below the horizontal axis of the diamond and turned clockwise, and the one on the right sat above the middle and turned counterclockwise. Tiny sapphires and very small pearls glittered along the outermost curve of each swirl. Steve thought it matched the watch and necklace beautifully.
As Olivia picked up the box, Steve came around their table and got down on one knee. He cleared his throat, feeling somewhat unnerved by the audience they had collected.
"It's lovely, Steve. Just lovely." Olivia continued to admire the ring.
When she finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears in her eyes. He was encouraged to know she was so moved.
"Olivia, would you…"
She stopped him gently with a hand on his lips.
"Steve," she said, closing the box.
Steve was painfully aware of the murmurs of dismay in the background as she took his hand, turned it palm up, put the box in his hand, and curled his fingers around it.
"It's absolutely beautiful, but I can't accept it. Not yet."
Suddenly his insides were awash in acid. Hot tears came to his eyes, and there was a tightness in his chest.
Still on one knee, he began to speak. "It's been four and a half months, Liv. We've discussed our future. We used words like 'forever' and 'the rest of our lives.' What are you doing?"
"Steve, I just…"
"DAMN YOU!" he roared in fury, oblivious to the other diners. Surging to his feet, he towered over her and was shamefully pleased to see her cower in fear.
"Four and a half months, Liv," he spat through clenched teeth. "You owned me from the first time I smelled your perfume, and you knew it. You never *once* hinted that you would do this. Four and a half months. You BITCH!"
Anger and hurt coursed through his veins as he threw some bills on the table and said bitterly, "That should cover dinner. You can call your own damned cab."
As he turned to walk away, she leaped up and clung to his arm.
"Steve, please, just…"
He flung her off. She hit the wall with a thud and slumped to the floor weeping.
"Go to hell."
He turned away again and stalked out, leaving her alone on the floor of the restaurant, clinging to the pitiful, naked teddy bear.
Mark answered the phone on the third ring. He had decided to turn in early expecting to celebrate with Steve and Olivia into the early hours of the morning. He wondered who could be calling, and he hoped it wasn't the hospital.
"MARK!" The voice on the other end of the line was so distraught he didn't know at first who was talking. Then he heard a clatter and a bang and a string of irate Italian in the background.
"Who is this? Amanda? Olivia? Carol? What's wrong?"
"It's ME," the woman sobbed. "Did you know he was going to propose? Why didn't you warn me? Oh, Mark, I've ruined everything. What should I do?"
Olivia started to sob hysterically, and for several moments, Mark was helpless to calm her. In the background he heard an accented voice, "Iss all-a right, __signorina__, Mista Steve, he-a good-a man. He'll come a- back. I know he-a love you. Iss all-a right."
"Antonio!" Mark yelled into the phone, glad now to at least know where she was. "Antonio!"
The accented voice came on the line and the sobbing faded into the background.
"Yes-a, Doctor-a Sloan? What can I do-a you for?"
"I need you to calm Olivia down so I can talk to her. Get her a drink of water. No, make that a shot of whiskey."
"I already tried-a that, Doctor-a Sloan, more than a-once. She's about-a half-a loaded now." There was a huge clatter of pots and pans apparently falling, and a long string of Italian curses.
In spite of himself, Mark had to smile. Profanity sounded the same in any language. Antonio came back on the line.
"You want I should-a give her more-a whiskey, Doctor-a Sloan?"
"No! Antonio, don't do that. Can you get her to someplace quieter than the kitchen? What about your office?"
"Will-a do, Doctor. We're on-a our way a-now."
Mark could hear Antonio soothing Olivia in a mixture of English and Italian, and he thought her heard Olivia respond. Finally, the noise of the kitchen subsided, and Mark heard Antonio say, "You can-a talk to the Doctor a-now?"
Then Antonio came back on the line. "She's a-calm now. Here-a she is."
"Thanks, Antonio."
When Olivia's voice came back on the line, she was clearly upset, but no longer hysterical.
"He proposed, Mark."
"He told me he was going to. You said no."
"I said NOT YET!" There was an ominous silence for a moment, as she struggled at the edge of hysteria. Finally, she resumed speaking. "He was so angry, Mark. He yelled at me and cussed me out and called me names. When I tried to stop him, he knocked me down. I'm afraid of what might happen. He's so upset, I don't know what he might do."
Mark was worried about his son, but there was nothing he could do right now. He needed to make Olivia realize that, too.
"Liv," he said in a voice that belied his own concerns. "You can't do anything about Steve, but you can take care of yourself, and when he comes to his senses, he'll be glad you did. You said he knocked you down. Are you hurt?"
She sniffled into the phone and said, "Maybe some bruises, nothing serious."
"Why didn't you say yes, Liv?"
"Oh, Mark." There was a long pause, followed by her answer in a tone of resignation. "Steve is a man of honor. I couldn't let him make that promise before he knew everything about my past. If he's going to go into this, it has to be with his eyes wide open. No illusions, no misconceptions, and no secrets."
Mark was beginning to hatch a plan, but he needed one more piece of information first. "If he had known everything, would you have said yes, Liv?"
"Of course I would."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Ok, I think I know what to do. Are you ok to drive home, or did Antonio really get you drunk trying to calm you with whiskey?"
He heard a soft chuckle. "I'm taking a cab, but I'm really 'not-a half-a loaded'."
Mark had to smile again. Even that first day, Steve had admired the way Olivia used humor to ease stress.
"Good. Then take the cab home and wait there. Try to get some rest, but be ready to explain things to Steve. I'm going to see if I can get him to your place tonight."
"Ok. Thanks, Mark."
He hung up the phone and got his cell phone to call Jesse and Amanda. He wanted the regular line free in case Steve tried to reach him. A half an hour later, he hung up the phone with a smirk on his face. Jesse and Amanda had both agreed to help, so wherever Steve went to vent, he would gently be directed back to Olivia. He was fairly certain that if they could get Steve to her house tonight, she could make him understand.
Mark went down to Steve's apartment, packed Steve's overnight bag, and put the charley bar across the sliding glass door. Then, taking the bag and Steve's brace with him, he went upstairs and fastened the deadbolts. He left the door to the deck open for now and stood out in the night air waiting for his son. He had the bag and the brace at his side.
While he waited, Mark wondered repeatedly if he was doing the right thing. He kept coming back to the same two facts. Steve loved Olivia and wanted to marry her. Olivia loved Steve and wanted to marry him, but not before he knew about all the secrets in her past. She had to be the right one. Would any other woman go to such lengths to protect his son?
He was about to start the same argument with himself again when Steve finally appeared at the foot of the stairs.
"Dad? Could you go downstairs and open my door? Something seems to be blocking it shut."
Mark looked down at his son and prayed he was doing the right thing.
"It's the charley bar, son. I locked you out."
In a very puzzled tone, Steve asked, "Why?"
"You need to talk to Olivia, son."
"Don't go there, Dad. It's been a rough night."
"I have to, Steve. I've always tried to stay out of your personal life as much as possible, but I love you, and I can't let you make this mistake. You at least owe her an apology for swearing at her and knocking her down."
"I can do that over the phone in the morning, Dad. Right now I just need some sleep."
Mark tossed Steve's overnight bag down the stairs to land at his feet. Then he dropped the brace on the sand at his side so as not to damage it. "You'll do it in person, tonight, or you'll not be sleeping here."
Mark turned and went into the house without another word. He dropped the charley bar in place and stood there waiting to see what his son would do. After a moment, Steve came bounding up the steps. He came to the glass doors, looked pleadingly at his father, and shouted, "Dad! Dad, why are you doing this to me?"
With a lump in his throat, Mark shouted back through the glass, "Because I love you, and you love her, and the two of you deserve each other." Then Mark drew the curtains and went to bed, though he knew he'd get little sleep that night.
Jesse was watching late-night reruns of Gilligan's Island when the doorbell rang. Mark had called about half an hour ago to say Steve was probably on his way. As he opened the door, he grinned and said, "Right on time."
"Huh?" said a haggard-looking Steve.
"Your dad called and said to expect you about now."
"Oh. Did he tell you I'd be asking to spend the night, too?"
"Yup, and he said to tell you no."
"Look, Jess…"
Jesse stepped aside and jerked his head toward the interior of his apartment. "Come on in for a bit. We need to talk before I send you on your way."
With a sigh, Steve stepped inside and headed for the couch.
"Why are you and Dad conspiring to make me go back to Olivia for more humiliation, Jess? I was hoping for some sympathy, you know?"
"You can forget about sympathy, Steve, and you might as well know Amanda is in on it, too. As for why, well, we have all agreed that you and Olivia are not going to break up just yet." Jesse sat beside his friend and gave him a reassuring slap on the back. "We think you've just suffered a breakdown in communication, and if you talk it out, everything will be ok. She's at home waiting for you, and short of a motel, that's the only place you're going to spend the night."
Steve shook his head stubbornly. "You weren't there, Jess. You don't know. No amount of talking can fix this."
"Then maybe you need to try some listening."
"Huh?"
"I might not have been there tonight, Steve," Jesse agreed, "but I have been here since August. I didn't have to be in the restaurant to know this was just a misunderstanding. Don't be a fool, buddy. Go to her, hear her out, and fix it."
"Je-ess," Steve pleaded as his voice broke. He looked at his friend with tears in his eyes, but couldn't squeeze another word past the lump in his throat.
Jesse put a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders and nudged him off the couch saying, "Come here, I want you to see something."
Steve reluctantly followed Jesse back to the bedroom where Jesse opened a drawer and took out a small box, which he opened to reveal a glittering diamond ring.
"I've had this for over a year, but I'm afraid to give it to Susan."
"Trust me, Jess," Steve said bitterly. "It's not worth the risk."
"Maybe not for me right now," Jesse agreed, "but for you I think it is."
"Jesse, she turned me down flat. She didn't even let me ask the question."
Jesse pursed his lips in thought and finally said, "You were angry and hurt, and you totally lost it. You didn't let her finish what she had to say, did you?"
"Dammit, Jess, she said no. What more was there?"
Jesse closed the velvet-covered box and put it away again. "Did she really say no, or did you just hear no, Steve?"
Steve wrinkled his brow in confusion. "What does it matter?" He threw his hands in the air, "She still rejected me."
"With Liv, it could mean a lot. Think about the misunderstanding you two had the day you helped her unpack. That almost led to a disaster. Don't let this be another one. You told me yourself, she's very literal, direct, and plain spoken. There's a big difference between 'no', and 'not right now.' If she didn't want to marry you, she would have said 'no'. What did she really say?"
Pure panic crossed Steve's face. "Oh, dear God, Jess. I don't know."
Staring hard into Steve's eyes, he said, "Think, about it! What were her exact words?"
Steve waved one hand in the air beside his head, trying to grasp the memory of those words. When he caught it, he snapped his fingers. "She said, 'not yet,' Jess! My God, it wasn't a no, it was 'not yet.'"
He started babbling excitedly. "Thank you so much, Jess. I have to go. Call my dad, and for God's sake call Liv. Tell her I'm coming."
Jesse laughed out loud and called to his friend's quickly retreating back, "I'm on it!"
When Steve arrived at Olivia's house, the stereo was blasting so loud she couldn't hear him knock. He peeked through a gap in the curtains at the window beside the door and saw her dancing to the music. She had her arms wrapped around herself, the teddy bear nestled against her breast. He used his key to let himself in.
"Tomorrow's another day," Olivia sang with the stereo. "And I'm thirsty anyway, so bring on the rain…"
Holding the bear in one hand, she threw her arms open and her head back, and she started to twirl slowly in the center of the room. She looked perfectly at ease and secure in the knowledge that whatever went wrong in her world would soon right itself. He envied her that calm. As he watched, unheeded, he became transfixed, and slowly, her tranquility seeped into him. His breathing deepened, his heartbeat slowed, and his troubled thoughts stilled. A sense of peace washed over him, and he knew without question that everything would work out between them.
He called her name above the music.
She stopped her spin and walked over to him, still swaying and singing along with the music. She didn't stop walking until she stood against him. Then she wrapped her arms around him, her hands coming up to embrace his shoulders. He slung his arms low around her hips and lifted her to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, buried her face in the crook of his neck, and sang.
"Tomorrow's another day, and I am not afraid. So bring on the rain."
Steve recognized the song as one of her favorites. She said it celebrated life's difficulties and reveled in the strength to endure them. He continued to dance and sway to the music while holding her in his arms. He worked his way across the room, and as the song ended, she reached out and cut the stereo off.
Still holding her, he whispered into her hair, "Forgive me?"
She shifted herself against him and purred, "Of course."
"We need to talk, don't we?"
He felt her nod and heard her say, "A lot. But not tonight. Let's go to the kitchen. I have tea ready."
He carried her to the kitchen, still swaying to the tune she was humming, and set her back on her feet. She reached up and pulled his face to hers and gave him a kiss that was so sweet and loving it filled him up and left him wanting all at the same time.
She poured two cups of tea, doctored them with milk and sugar, set out some graham crackers, and sat down to face him.
For a while, she just stirred her tea and stared at the whirlpool she created in her cup. Finally, she said, "Did you know I speak five languages?"
He was surprised by her non sequitur and just said, "Really?"
She nodded. "English, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and German."
"No kidding."
She folded her hands and rested them on the table in front of her. "I really do, fluently. It's a gift, but I still don't have the words to say how much I love you or to describe how happy you make me. The Spanish have an expression, _media naranja_. Literally, it means half an orange, but really, it means 'the one who completes me'. It's as close as I can come to what you mean to me, but you do more than make me whole. You make me feel, and want, and need, and give. You've brought me back into the world and made me a part of it again. You make me love, Steve, and I haven't been able to do that in years. I've been afraid."
She looked up, and Steve could see tears shimmering in her eyes.
"Then why didn't you say yes, Liv?"
She looked down again. It was obvious she found it difficult to look him in the eye.
"You asked too soon."
"I don't understand, Liv."
She twiddled her thumbs and studied her nails for a long time before answering.
"There are things, terrible things, I haven't told you."
He reached out and stilled her fidgeting hands. She drew away.
With a sigh, he said, "Sweetheart, you've told me about what your granddad did and how you feel about it. You told me all about Keith and Ted, and about trying to kill yourself. I'm still here. If I haven't left yet, what makes you think something else will make me go?"
"Oh, Steve!" she wailed rising from the table. She walked to the glass door that opened onto the deck and stood looking out at the night. "In the grand scheme of things, that was just the little stuff. Until I met you, my life was a complete disaster. For years, I just wanted to die, and when I couldn't manage to kill myself, I just stopped feeling. I stopped caring."
He could see her shoulders tremble. She turned to face him, and drew her arms tightly around herself.
"Then I fell for you. I can't let you make any kind of promises to me until you know what a mess I really am. I'm afraid, Steve. I'm afraid if you really knew me that you'd run the other way. I can't let you get any closer until I tell you everything, but I'm afraid if I tell you everything, I'll lose you. I keep trying to give myself to you completely, Steve," she tapped her chest with her fist, "but that means giving you all of this, too, and I'm afraid it's more of a burden than you'll be willing to accept."
He rose from his seat and went to put his arms around her, but she stepped back.
"I asked my dad about your past. He didn't tell me anything, but he said I'd be able to handle everything you would tell me."
"Your dad thinks he knows all about it, but he's wrong. He knows all the facts, Steve, but not the truth. I've never told anyone the truth. I've got to tell you, or I'll never be able to love you the way I need to."
Steve's heart grieved to see Olivia suffer so intensely, but he didn't know what to do. He decided to ask.
"What do you want of me, Liv? Name it."
She thought a minute. Steve saw it in her eyes the moment she reached a decision.
"Give me the ring."
Confused, he took it out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She took him by the hand and led him through the house and to the garage. She went directly to the repugnantly pink jeep, opened the glove box, and threw the ring inside. Then she shut the glove box, turned to Steve, and said, "Pretend tonight never happened. I need…six weeks. I promise I'll tell you everything, and in six weeks, if you still want to ask, I'll say yes. If you don't want to ask me, you can take the ring, walk away, and forget about me, or we can still be friends, whatever you want, but for now, tonight never happened. Neither of us owes the other anything."
Hesitantly, Steve agreed, "Ok…"
Olivia hopped up and sat on the hood of the jeep.
"I'll be asking you to do some things that might seem strange to you, and we're going to have to make a trip. There are things I have to tell you that I just can't talk about here. You'll have to go home with me. It'll be a long trip, at least a couple of weeks. I know you haven't even really gone back to work yet, so if time off is a problem, you can take an unpaid leave and I'll cover your expenses, but you have to come back east with me."
Steve frowned, but said, "Agreed. Liv, I'll do whatever it takes. I just want to know we'll be together forever. Just tell me what you need."
She nodded.
"I need six weeks."
"Six weeks?"
"Yes. It will take me at least that long to work out how to tell you my story."
He nodded. "Ok. Six weeks."
"Meet me in my office at quarter to one on Thursday. Plan to spend the whole afternoon with me. We'll start there."
"Right…Uh, Liv?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I spend the night?"
She smiled shyly. "I was hoping you'd ask."
Steve spent the night in Olivia's bed, holding her close, and keeping watch. Every time she stirred in her sleep, he'd hush her. He counted six nightmares. She'd weep and cry out, and scream for her parents and siblings, but she never woke. He didn't know what terrible secrets were trying to pull her away from him, but he wasn't going to let them win. No ghost or nightmare from her past would pull them apart. He was in her life to stay, and in six weeks, he would get that ring out of the glove box of the jeep and ask her to marry him.
He was certain he would ask.
He was even more certain she would say yes.
He had faith.