(Chapter 31. January 15-31. Various locations.)
Steve decided to let himself in through the beach entrance of his apartment. It was after midnight and he didn't want to wake his dad. Olivia had woken up around ten, and they had talked for a while, but when she realized that he had been practically living at her place waiting for word of her whereabouts she insisted that he go home.
"He is your father, Steve. He's family, and he should come first."
"But Liv, he won't mind. He knows how I feel about you."
"That doesn't matter, Steve. You spent a week worrying and wondering about me. I'm sure he was worried about you the whole time. Go home. Let him see that you're ok. We'll get together sometime tomorrow. I promise."
She had, of course, won, but she promised to join the gang for lunch at the hospital.
As he walked around to his private entrance, a stiff breeze picked up and blew a piece of paper across his path. He muttered something about people littering the beach, and picked it up to throw it away when he went in. He let himself in and went straight to his room to change and crawl in bed. He tossed the paper in the wastebasket beside his desk, and as it fell, he noticed his name on it.
"Hmm."
He unfolded it. It was a long letter, signed, "Olivia."
My darling Steve,
I am facing a problem that you cannot help me resolve. In fact, I'm not sure anyone can help me.
I love you, and that means I need you. And so, I must learn to trust you.
Needing someone is a new and frightening thing, darling. I suddenly have to consider your needs and desires. I have to be concerned with your feelings and goals. I have to compromise. My life is no longer my own.
For a long time, I took great comfort in being alone against the world. I never had to risk someone else letting me down. I knew God had a plan for me, and I could fight it or follow it, but ultimately I got to decide how to get where he wanted me to go. Now it seems he has a plan for us, so I must learn to share my path with you.
There was a time, not long ago, when I would have resented sharing my bathroom. Now I find I want to share my life, but I don't know how. Forgive me if it seems I don't trust you, Steve, but trust is learned as much as it is earned. You have done your part, but I am still working on mine. Please be patient.
In all my wanderings, I was sure of one thing. I was an island, alone, self- sufficient, and completely independent. Now that my heart has bound me to you, I feel as though I have been cut adrift. It is quite a paradox, really, and one that I must resolve for myself.
I need some time to think, and you, my love, are too much of a distraction. I want to surrender everything to you, Steve, but I am afraid. Love has always hurt me, and everyone I have ever counted on has let me down. It has taken me many years to overcome my past and develop the self-confidence and self-esteem I have now. I like who I am, but much of my character has grown out of fending for myself and relying on no one. I am afraid to depend on you because it might cost me my hard-won identity, and I'm not sure either of us would like the person I would become.
I'm not running away this time. I promise. I'll be back as soon as I figure out how to give you my heart without losing myself.
Soon to be yours…
Truly,
Olivia
At the end, there was a P.S. with an address in Rockport, Washington saying, "Do not disturb except in case of emergency."
Steve frowned. Judging by the conversation they'd had earlier in the evening, Olivia really hadn't resolved much of anything. He had to figure out a way to help her. He shook his head. Whatever he did, it would have to wait until tomorrow. He was far too tired to think anymore tonight.
"It's ok, sweetheart, you can trust me."
"I…I don't know, Steve. Can't we just go back?"
"Liv, we've been hiking most of the day. There's a ranger's station just down the trail. We can make it before the storm hits, but if we try to go back…. It's just too dangerous."
They were on a rope and board suspension bridge across a deep chasm, and when they got to the middle, they found some boards had broken off and fallen out. Steve had easily hopped across the hole, but Liv was afraid she wouldn't make it.
"Just jump, sweetie. It's not that far, really. You can make it, and I'm right here to help. Trust me."
"O-Ok. Here, take this first."
She tossed him her pack, and he staggered under the force of it hitting him in the chest.
"Jesus, Liv, what's in here, bricks?"
"Everything."
He put the pack down on the bridge behind him and turned to her.
"Ok, love. Take a couple steps back, get a good start, and when you get to the edge, jump. I'll be right here to catch you."
She nodded, stepped back, and made the short run up to the hole. He watched as she leaped into the air. Certain that she was going to land safely well beyond the hole; he turned aside to get out of her way. When she landed just at the edge, he was shocked. Her trajectory should have landed her a couple feet ahead of him. She lost her balance and her arms started to windmill. He reached out to steady her, but it felt as though he was moving through molasses. Just as his fingers touched her jacket, her feet slipped, and she plunged through the hole.
"Steeeeeeeve!!!!!"
"Liv!!!!!"
He sat bolt upright in bed, panting, soaked in sweat, heart pounding, sheets twisted around his legs and balled up in his fists. He took a couple deep breaths, and said aloud to the darkness, "It was just a dream."
A moment later, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Great, he'd woken his father.
Mark came in the room without knocking.
"Steve, you ok? What's the matter?"
Steve reached over and turned on the lamp beside his bed. Squinting in the sudden brightness, he said, "I'm ok, Dad. It was just a bad dream."
"Son, I heard you screaming for Olivia. You remember that she came home, right?"
"Yeah, Dad, I do."
Mark sat on the edge of the bed.
"Want to talk about it?"
Steve closed his eyes and thought a moment. Shaking his head, he said, "Nothing to talk about. I can't remember."
"Ok, then." Mark twisted up his face in a look of confusion. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you'd spend the night with her."
Steve gave his dad a wry smile. "She made me come home. She said I should let you see that I was all right. She'd probably have let me stay had she known this would to happen. Uh…sorry I woke you."
Mark turned Steve's alarm clock around so he could see the face. It was 5:48.
"I'd be getting up in twelve minutes, anyway. Don't worry about it." Peering at his son's face, he asked, "You are ok, right?"
"Yeah, dad, I'm fine," Steve insisted in a tone that suggested he found his father's continued inquiry a bit odd.
"And the nightmare, son? How do you explain that?"
Steve shrugged. "I've had a few strange dreams since I met Olivia. I only remember bits and pieces, but they all seem to be different. It's not a recurring nightmare, and it doesn't happen often. It might be just a response to her emotional state."
Mark reached out and squeezed his son's shoulder. Looking Steve in the eye, he said, "Ok, but if it becomes a problem, I want to know, understand?"
Steve nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now what do you want for breakfast?"
With a mischievous grin, Steve said, "Surprise me."
Mark chuckled. "One surprise special, coming up."
Steve groaned. He was amazed at how much paperwork his job generated. He'd only worked three cases in the past five months, and already he was behind. It was a relief and delight when he looked up to see Olivia walk in the office just as he opened another folder. He sighed, smiled, and stood up to greet her.
She was looking lovely as always in a pale yellow long-sleeved knit dress, close fitting down to the waist, then flaring slightly from the hips down. She wore her watch and the necklace he had given her, and her curly red hair was pulled back to reveal pearl earrings. He was surprised to see her greet and chat familiarly with everyone she passed on her way to his desk. Finally, she gave Cheryl a nod and a smile, then turned and wrapped her arms around him.
As he pulled her close and breathed in her scent, he became aware of several of his fellow detectives watching him. For a split second he was self-conscious, then he thought, 'Screw it. This is delicious, and after everything we've been through, we both have a right to enjoy it, no matter who's watching.'
She pulled back slightly from his embrace, kissed him, and, still holding his hand, seated herself in the chair beside his desk. He took a seat as well, and sat there admiring her.
"I've just come from giving detective Simmons my statement," she said. "I was actually a little nervous about it. I thought he might…have words for me…about wasting his time the way I did, but he was really very nice."
"Yeah," Steve agreed, "Simmons is a good guy. I sure didn't make things easy for him."
Olivia looked down, and whispered, "Nor I, for you."
"Hey, now," he took her chin and tipped her face up to look at him. "That's all water under the bridge."
For some reason, he got a mental picture of a broken suspension bridge across a deep gorge with himself looking in horror through the hole to the river below. He shook off the sudden chill he felt, and said, "Besides, I found your note. The wind blew it right to me last night as I was going in the house."
She smiled. "Really? Then you understand why I had to go away?"
"Better than I did last night, but I think we need to talk about it some more."
"Ok." She looked at her watch. "Well, I have an appointment with Dr. Gregg in half an hour. I just stopped to say hello. See you at lunch, right?"
"I'll be there at noon."
She leaned forward and kissed him. "Bye, babe."
He admired her from the back as she walked away, and gave several of his colleagues a dirty look when he caught them watching her with a bit too much interest.
He heard Cheryl laugh and say, "Don't be jealous. She's a beautiful woman. They can't help it any more than you can."
"Who's jealous? I was just surprised that everyone had so much to say to her when she came in."
"When you were in the hospital, she came by two or three days a week to let us know how you were doing, and she made friends with a quite few people. No one ever said anything out of the way to her, and while she was charming and friendly to everyone, she never looked at anybody the way she does at you."
"Sometimes I still wonder why."
Cheryl grinned, "So do I."
Steve made a face, and she continued, "Seriously, Steve, she loves you like…that's what God made her to do. Everyone here can see it, and that's why none of the guys will ever do more than admire her from a distance. Her heart belongs to you alone."
Steve became pensive for a moment then said, "You're a good partner, Cheryl. Thanks."
She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and said, "Don't mention it."
Olivia was the last to arrive at lunch. Steve watched her carefully as she walked through the cafeteria. Until today at the precinct, he'd never noticed just how much attention she attracted. She smiled and nodded at everyone, joked with the cashier, and when she stopped to chat with the occupants of another table, he saw her give one of the doctors a pat on the back. Any other woman would have been flirting, but Liv was just being friendly. She genuinely cared about people.
As she got to their table, she gave Jesse a friendly swat on the shoulder. "Good call on that spiral fracture today, Jess. That was no accident; somebody took that child's arm and twisted it until it snapped."
"That's what I figured," Jesse agreed. "Did you get anywhere with the mother or with social services?"
Liv nodded. "As it turns out little Ernie's step-dad has three children, all by other women, all of whom he's been abusing. The social worker and I dug into the records and found them. We've convinced them that there's strength in numbers. Ernie's mom has applied for a restraining order, and all four women have decided to press charges. I expect they'll be arresting the step-dad by the end of the day."
She put her tray down and placed a hand on Mark's back. "I want to schedule Mrs. Kowalski for that knee replacement soon. She insists that you be there to supervise."
"Oh, really?" Mark asked with a laugh. "I told her you're the expert."
"Oh, I know," Olivia said as she took a seat. "She told me so herself." Mimicking an older woman, she said, "'Now, honey, don't get your feelings hurt. I know that doctor's magazine --What is it? Pajamas? Such a name-- says you're the very best. Dr. Sloan had me read the article and everything, though I really didn't understand much of it.'" She waved her hand to indicate just what she thought of the article in question. "'But you're just so young. I'm afraid you might panic or something, then where would I be? Oy. That's why I want Dr. Sloan there. He's mature, experienced, and steady. You don't mind, do you?'"
Olivia snapped back to herself for a moment, "Oh, no, ma'am, but officially, as your orthopedic surgeon, I'll be in charge, and he'll be assisting."
The older lady took over again. "Call it what you want, sweetie. As long as he's there, I'll know what's really going on."
Mark chuckled and said, "Reverse ageism."
Liv slipped her left hand into Steve's right. It had become a convenient and comfortable habit for them since he was left-handed and she was right- handed. She gave him a kiss while they all had a laugh at her expense. Looking at Mark she said, "I'll have Carolyn set up a time with you for early next week, ok?"
Mark was still chuckling as he said, "Fine with me, but you really shouldn't let her manipulate you like that."
Olivia brandished her fork about as she spoke. "Oh, what's the harm, really? She's a lonely old woman and surgery's a scary thing. Might as well put her at ease." She pointed at Mark with her fork as if to make a point. "Now if you were putting such ideas into her head, we would have to have a serious talk."
Mark held both hands up innocently and laughed, "Oh, no, I'm not looking for trouble."
She turned to Steve and asked accusingly, "And just what is that grin for?"
He took her by complete surprise as he kissed her on the tip of the nose and said, "I was just thinking how lucky I am."
Liv blushed and said, "Oh, Steve."
Jesse folded his hands, batted his eyes, and said, "Awwwwww." Then he said "Owwwww!!" as both Liv and Steve kicked him under the table.
Turning to Amanda, Liv said, "So, how are the boys?"
"They're doing great," Amanda beamed. "Dion just got his progress report. Four A's and three B's, and CJ's got the lead in his class play."
And so went lunch. In Steve's mind, Liv was like a queen holding court. Everyone got a chance to talk, and she had a witty, pithy, or practical comment for everything that was said. For him, having her beside him made a normal lunch with his dad and friends a rare pleasure, and he savored every moment of it.
As lunch ended, Liv graciously offered to collect everyone's trays and dishes and carried them to the return area. There was a bit more than she could reliably carry, so Steve helped her. As she left the cafeteria, he automatically fell into step beside her.
Halfway to her office, she said, "I know the way, Steve."
"Uh-huh."
"So what's up?"
"Remember at the precinct I told you I wanted to talk with you about your letter a little more?"
"Oh."
He stopped her and turned to face her. "Would you rather put it off until this evening?"
She thought a moment, then said, "Don't see much use in that, do you?"
He grinned and said, "Good, we're on the same wavelength."
In the office, he began. He'd been thinking, and felt he really had a handle on the matter.
"I'm no shrink, Liv, but I'd be happy to go to Dr. Gregg with you or to let you go by yourself. I just want to know that we're working on this problem together, ok?"
She nodded.
"The way I see it, and please correct me if I'm wrong, this problem boils down to three basic issues: love, independence, and trust. Is that about right?"
She nodded again, and the small smile on her face encouraged him.
"Ok, as far as love goes, I love you. I adore you. I worship you. I will continue to do so even after our bones have crumbled to dust and blown away on the wind."
"Oh, Steve," she said, "I love you, too, so much I wish we could share the same skin."
He looked at her and smiled adoringly. "You do?"
"Oh, yes."
"Thanks." Immediately he was all business again. "Now, about independence. I think couples are stronger and more complete when the individuals spend time apart. I think it's important to have experiences and adventures that are separate from your partner. That way, when you come back together, you both have new and exciting things to share. But I want you to know one thing, I would never dream of having an intimate relationship with anyone else, and I wouldn't want you to either."
"Steve, I would never consider a relationship that wasn't monogamous and mutually exclusive, and like you, I think it's important to have our separate lives. It brings more to the relationship. I know as a cop there will be times when you are gone for a while on stakeout or working nights. There will be times when I want to go off like I did last week and be alone. I just want to know that when I'm through doing my thing, and you're through doing your thing we'll each come home to the other."
"I'm ok with that, Liv. Don't ever think you need my permission." He grinned. "But in the future, don't tape a note to my door. Talk to me or put the note on my pillow before you go off, ok?"
She laughed halfheartedly and said, "You got it, babe."
"So," he said, "When it comes to love and independence, we have pretty much the same ideas, huh?"
"Yup."
He rested his chin on folded hands. "Then what's the problem with trust, Liv?"
After a long pause she said, "I talked with Dr. Gregg about this today."
"You did?"
She nodded.
"And what did you resolve?"
She became thoughtful. Quietly she said, "I need to know that you can still love me in spite of the fears and nightmares and mistakes I haven't told you about yet."
"Liv, honey, I can say, 'trust me' until I turn blue and pass out. But I can't prove myself until you give me the chance. You have to tell me what it is that you think is so terrible that it would split us up."
Teary-eyed now, she answered, "I know, Steve, but I can't do that here."
Confused, he asked, "Do you want to go back to your house or to Dr. Gregg's office?"
She laughed sweetly but ironically, "No, babe, when I say here, I mean in this world, surrounded by your friends and family and familiar places. That's why I want you to go back to Pennsylvania with me."
Steve took her hand and said, "Sweetie, you have friends here."
She pulled away, "Yeah, Steve, your friends. I do love them, but it's not the same. It's not the same as being home." She took a deep, shaky breath and said, "I promise you, when we go to Pennsylvania I will tell you…everything that I'm afraid to tell you. Back there I have roots, history, and a foundation. I have a past, troubled as it may be. If our little dream castle falls apart, I'll have something to rebuild on. Out here…all I have are the shifting sands of the beach at Malibu."
He stared at her until she locked eyes with him.
"I won't let you down, Liv. I'll wait until your ready, then I'll prove that you can trust me."
"I know that's what you believe, Steve Sloan. I hope you're right."
They did not discuss the issue of trust again.
Over the next two weeks, Steve and Olivia developed a comfortable routine. When he worked late, he spent the night at her house, and when he got off early, he'd pick her up and take her out to Malibu with him. He or his dad would then take her back to her place on the way in to work in the morning.
They often made love when he spent the night at her house. It was fun for each of them to find new ways of pleasing the other. Olivia had discovered his ticklish spot, and she delighted in attacking him at the most inopportune moments. Their lovemaking always ended the same way, though, and that gave Steve the greatest pleasure of all. She would curl up beside him and sigh like a contented cat, and resting her head on his chest, she would lightly tap her fingers on his ribcage to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Nights when she stayed at the beach house, she insisted on sleeping in the guest room.
"Liv," Steve insisted, "Dad gives me my privacy. He won't interrupt."
"That's not the point, baby," she said, caressing his cheek. "It's a matter of respect. He's your father, my boss."
"And it's my apartment."
"In his house. If you like, I can go back to my place. Alone. Or I can stay here, in the guest room. But as long as he lives here I will not tryst with you in this house."
Steve had finally capitulated, but he got little sleep those nights she spent just up the stairs from him.
Some nights, they both brought work home. She would have notes to dictate and forms to sign, and he would have files to read through looking to put the pieces of a murder together. One night they were in the den working in companionable silence when suddenly Steve went into a fit of temper.
"Dammit all to hell!" He closed the file and threw it on the coffee table.
"Steve! Mind you tongue!"
"I'm sorry, Liv, but don't get on me about my language right now." He rose and began to pace the room. Pointing to the file, he said, "That is a nine- year-old boy. Somebody bashed his skull in, and I can't even identify the…darned…murder weapon. I'm not even sure there was only one weapon. It looks like three distinct objects, and I can't figure out what any of them are."
She looked him over a minute and said, "I see. Well, cussing and wearing a hole in the rug isn't going to help. Get us something to drink, and we'll both take a look at the file. I'll take a Jed's."
Steve walked off grumbling and came back scowling with a beer in one hand and a Jed's hard lemonade in the other. Olivia had pushed the coffee table out a couple feet and was sitting cross-legged on the couch. She indicated that Steve should sit on the floor in front of her. He knew that meant he was about to get a neck rub, and he was grateful.
Putting her drink down, she said, "Ok, before you open the file, tell me what you know."
Steve took a swig on his beer, closed his eyes, and, as Liv's strong fingers massaged the muscles at the base of his skull, he began to recite the details of the case. "Nine-year-old Jason McIntyre stayed home from school sick on Friday, January 18. He was found dead in the back yard at three fifteen when his older brother came home from school and went outside to feed the dog. He's the third of four children. Older sister, Anna, is a sophomore in high school. Older brother, Darren, is in the eighth grade, and younger sister, Jennie, is in second grade. The father, Frank, forty- nine, is the manager of a local sporting goods store, and the mother, Renee, thirty-eight, is a part time receptionist for an orthodontist, Dr. Harold…Askins, I think. It's in the file, and he does the kids teeth."
Liv gently pushed his head forward and began to work on his neck and shoulders. "Wow."
"Wow, what?"
"You have an amazing memory for detail. I never knew."
Steve shrugged. "It's a skill you develop with the job. Saves you the trouble of looking everything up all the time."
"I see. Continue."
"Jason died of severe head trauma, but we can't tell what he was hit with. We're not even sure how many times he was hit. The wounds are a funny shape, and it looks like he was hit from both the left and the right."
"Weird."
"Yeah."
"Was he killed at the scene or moved there after he died?"
"Died at the scene."
Olivia was kneading the muscles in his upper back now, and he sighed as the tension of the day melted away.
"Who stayed home with him?"
"His mother."
"The other kids were all at school, and the father was at work for sure?"
"Yep. Alibi's all check out."
"So who are your suspects?"
"The only one we have is the mother."
"That stinks."
"Yeah."
"You have pictures of the scene and x-rays in the file?"
"Yup."
"Show me."
Steve craned his neck to look at her. "Liv, they're pretty grisly."
She nudged him forward and sat on the floor behind him, straddling him with her legs and continued massaging his middle and lower back. Despite the conversation, Steve found himself getting very aroused. Liv, on the other hand was all business.
"You said it yourself, it's a nine-year-old boy. I want to help if I can. If I can't stand to look, I'll just put the pictures back."
She leaned sideways to peek around him as her thumbs made small circles on each side of the vertebrae all the way down his spine. He heard her gasp when he spread out the pictures to reveal the photos of the young victim.
"My God, Steve. I can't believe you deal with this kind of thing every day."
"It's worse when it's a kid, but you learn to build walls."
Liv sat very still for a long time and stared at the pictures. Only her hands moved as she continued massaging his back. Steve wrapped her legs around his waist and began rubbing her feet hoping that keeping his hands busy would distract him from other body parts that were getting busy all by themselves. It didn't work.
Suddenly she gasped a little "Oh!" and jumped up, saying, "I'll be right back. Don't move a thing."
Steve groaned in frustration. Then he laughed. At least she wasn't giggling.
A few minutes later, she came back with a melon and a ski pole.
She moved the papers on her desk off to the side, stacked a few books on the corner, and sat the melon on top of them.
"That's about the right height for a nine-year-old," she muttered.
Then she took the picture that showed Jason's injuries, studied it for a moment, and whacked the melon twice with the ski pole.
"Now he falls to his knees," she told Steve.
She put the melon on the desk chair, and tilted it a little away from her. It rolled back, so she got an eraser from the desk and used it to prop the melon in place. She whacked it twice more.
She put the melon on the floor and again propped it in position with the eraser.
"Now he's on the ground."
She whacked the melon one more time and brought it and the picture over to Steve for comparison.
Pointing to two grooves in the melon rind and then to two corresponding wounds on Jason's skull, she said, "He was standing up fairly close to his attacker for the first two blows." She put the pole in one of the grooves. "The shaft of the pole hit him, but not the basket," she said, indicating first the pole itself, then the small metal disk at the end.
Next, she pointed to two t-shaped wounds, "When he dropped to his knees, he was farther away from his attacker, and the basket dug in a little because it's at the end of the pole."
Indicating the remaining wound, which was really just a slit, she explained, "When he was all the way down, the basket was all that caught him, and this is what you get. It looks like he was hit from the left and right because the basket crosses the pole at right angles."
"One, problem, Liv," Steve said. "Skulls are a lot harder than melons."
"Not when you're nine years old. Besides, the new graphite and alloy ski poles are a lot tougher than old-fashioned aluminum ones like this."
"You know, someone told me you don't ski."
"I only tried it once. Tore up my ankle and my knee."
"And you still have the equipment?"
"Just the pole, for a souvenir."
She pulled over a picture that showed a green station wagon in the background. "Find that car, and you'll find the murder weapon."
Steve took a closer look and saw what she was talking about.
"Skis."
"Yup. And talk to the mother. I don't know if it was negligence or intent, but she had something to do with this."
Steve was puzzled. "Why do you say that?"
"He was nine years old and home sick from school. My mama wouldn't have let me out of the bed, let alone out of the house, would yours?"
Steve shook his head. "No, she wouldn't."
She sat back down behind him, wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his chest, rested her cheek in the center of his back, and said, "Please put those awful pictures away now."
He could hear her weeping as he did what she asked. He pried her hands loose, stood up, and offered her a hand up. When she rose, he took her in his arms.
"I'm sorry I let you look at the pictures."
"I wouldn't have been able to help if you hadn't. I feel good about helping, but I just can't imagine what kind of person would do something so horrible."
"Well, when we find out and send the person to jail, I'll be sure to let you know."
He scooped her up and carried her back to bed. That night they didn't make love. He just held her close while she cried for little Jason McIntyre.
A few days later they were all having dinner at the beach house when Steve said, "Liv, you were right on the money about Jason McIntyre."
The smile fell from her face and she said softly, "Was I?"
He nodded, his mouth full of hamburger and fries.
Swallowing, he began to tell the whole tale. "The car belonged to the orthodontist. He and the mother were having an affair. Jason woke up and went looking for his mother to make him some soup."
She stood up from the table. "Oh, Steve," she said, "I don't think I can hear any more." She went into the living room.
As his father and friends exchanged worried glances, he said, "It'll be ok. We'll be right back."
He followed her into the living room and wrapped his arms around her. She was crying.
"Liv," he said gently, "I know it's horrible, but I have found that knowing the ending makes it easier to deal with. Will you let me tell you what we found?"
After a moment, she nodded and said, "Just make it quick."
"Jason caught them in the act. The orthodontist told the mother he'd take care of it. She thought he was going to talk to Jason and make him promise to keep it a secret. While she was showering, the orthodontist did exactly what you said. Then he went for a walk. When the mother got out of the shower, the house was quiet. She thought Jason had gone back to bed and her lover had gone home. She didn't know what had happened until her older son found the body. The orthodontist still had the ski pole on the roof of his car. He hadn't even bothered to clean it."
In an empty voice, she asked, "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Steve sat on the couch and pulled her into his lap.
"Maybe not right away, but you might get some satisfaction from knowing that the person who did it will pay for his crime."
"And that little boy's still dead."
Steve sighed in frustration.
"Yeah, he is. I'm no miracle worker, Liv. What's done is done. The system can't undo a crime, but it can exact payment."
"And that little boy's still dead," she reiterated.
Steve was losing patience.
"Liv, this may sound harsh, but my job is not to mourn for the dead. It is to find their killers. I cannot indulge in the former and still do the latter. I'd never survive. I cannot feel for that little boy the way you do, but I can be damned glad we got his killer."
He saw her flinch when he cursed, and immediately felt sorry.
"I'm proud and grateful that you figured it out, Liv, because I don't think I could have, but don't expect me to grieve for him. I just can't do that."
He heard her sniffle and she turned to lay her head against his chest. "I'm sorry, Steve. I guess I just haven't developed those walls you were talking about the other day."
"That's ok, sweetie. I wouldn't want you to. I love you the way you are."
"I'm proud of you, Steve, that you can do such a…grim…job, but maybe I shouldn't try to help any more."
"Ok, honey," he said kissing her temple. "That'll be just fine," but secretly he wondered what kind of strain it would put on their relationship. He and his dad and his friends spent so much time discussing his cases, he wondered how often she would be left out. He gave a mental shrug. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it.
He shook his head when he got that weird image of the broken suspension bridge again.
"Let's go finish our dinner, ok?"
She nodded.
Back at the table, there was a collective gasp when Jesse thoughtlessly asked, "By the way, Liv. How in the world did you guess that the murder weapon was a ski pole?"
Jesse squirmed in embarrassment, but thought saying anything else would only draw more attention to his faux pas.
After the briefest hesitation, Liv said, "I've seen it before."
Everyone waited for further explanation, but none seemed to be forthcoming. Liv had a glint in her eye that Steve knew all to well. If she didn't volunteer the rest of the story, he would ask her, but first he wanted to see if anyone else spotted the mischief in her eyes. Finally, Amanda decided the best thing to do would be to get the whole story out now and save them all the awkwardness of wondering when they'd hear the rest and what the fallout would be. "Ok, I'll bite. When and where?"
Olivia smiled and it made her eyes sparkle. With some satisfaction, Steve thought things might be ok after all. He had never known a woman who could shift emotional gears the way Liv could, and in all her many moods, he had never seen a nasty one.
"When I was eighteen, I bought myself a pair of skis for Christmas."
They all leaned forward as they sensed a story spinning.
"The only decent slope around was also a cow pasture. It didn't seem nearly as steep walking up as it did flying down at three thousand miles an hour."
They all chuckled.
"Dodging cow patties was no picnic for a beginner, either."
Everyone groaned.
"I hit a cow."
The whole gang laughed out loud.
"Somehow, she stepped on my right ski." Olivia gestured straight ahead as if she were pointing down the slope. "I was still going." Slapping her thigh, she said, "My right leg stopped."
Her audience moaned in sympathetic pain.
Olivia held up both hands as if framing a picture. "I hit her back left flank, bounced off, and fell down to my right. I was moving fast enough and the surface of the snow was hard enough that I started to roll…right under the wrong end of the cow."
Everyone became still.
"My leg stayed where it was. She did what your thinking."
The table exploded in laughter. Steve saw his father dab away tears of mirth. Amanda shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. Jesse bounced in his chair like an excited child.
Olivia waited for quiet before she continued.
"Then she shifted her weight to stand on my knee. I broke through the crust of the snow at the pressure point, but most of my calf and thigh stayed on the surface, so things were all bent out of shape."
They all moaned in sympathy again.
"There is nothing so implacable as cow in winter pasture. She wouldn't move. One of her feet was on the ski, and the other was on my knee. I couldn't reach the binding to loose my foot from the ski, and I couldn't roll up hill, so there was no way to release the pressure on my knee and ankle. The manure was starting to freeze fast."
Steve cringed and saw Amanda shiver at the thought.
"So I beat her with the ski pole until she moved."
Liv held her hands up again, this time as if she were holding something. "My knee swelled up as big as a basketball, and my ankle was the size of a bowling ball." Olivia started to snicker. "The cow had little T-shaped welts on her butt. I was on crutches until Easter."
"And that's why you don't ski, huh?" Jesse asked.
Liv nodded with a laugh, "And precisely why I never will."
Most of the time now, Steve felt like he was back to one hundred percent. The only times he got stiff and sore were when he had spent an extended time sitting or after extra strenuous physical activity like a long chase after a suspect. He'd had no problem at all fitting the exercises Davis had prescribed into his regular workout routine. Most of them were just regular fitness and bodybuilding exercises. He still wore the brace a few nights a week, and it made his leg ache some, but he hadn't had any muscle spasms in weeks. Olivia still insisted that he keep his Darvocet handy, just in case, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd needed anything stronger than a couple of Advil.
One morning when they both had the day off, he decided to get Liv to teach him about yoga. She'd told him several times that it could help with his occasional stiffness, and she said the meditation would leave him mentally sharper and more alert. He had often enjoyed watching her go through her routine, and had noticed that it always left her considerably mellower than on the days she didn't work out. If nothing else, he expected to get a good stretch and a nice view of her shapely bottom.
As it turned out, he got more than he bargained for.
"Ok," she said excitedly. "There are ten positions, and each one has specific healthful effects on the body. I generally coordinate the routine with my breathing, but that can wait until you learn to perform each position properly. For now, I just want you to hold each position for a while and breathe."
Steve nodded. "Sounds easy enough."
"Don't be surprised if you have a hard time at first," she said in a warning tone. "It takes a lot more strength and concentration than you might think. In some of the positions, you'll be using a lot of the little stabilizing muscles that generally don't get a workout when you lift weights or do aerobic activities."
"Liv, I've been athletic all my life. This should not be difficult for me."
"We'll see," she said knowingly. "If you stick with it you'll see your strength, stamina, balance, and flexibility all improve."
"Bring it on, babe."
The first position was called Vajrasan. At first he couldn't quite get his butt to touch his heels the way Liv did, but she told him that would come in time. She told him she would have him hold the position for two or three minutes, but it seemed much longer. He started to fidget.
"Be still, Steve, and square your shoulders," she told him softly. "Close your eyes, and breathe deeply."
He tried to match his breathing with hers, but like the day in Dr. Gregg's office, he couldn't follow the slow pace she set.
He couldn't resist a peek at her. Her eyes were closed and she had a tranquil expression on her lovely face. After a moment, she told him, "Close your eyes and find your own rhythm. Don't try to keep up with me. You shouldn't be able to. I've had more practice, and your metabolism is higher because you're a man and you have so much more muscle mass. You *should* require more oxygen."
He quickly shut his eyes. He felt like a kid caught cheating on a test. She had never opened her eyes. He wondered if she knew he was peeking and how she knew he'd been trying to match her breathing. He heard her move, but before he could do anything, she said, "Keep your eyes closed, and keep breathing."
She gently squared his shoulders, straightened his arms, and lifted his chin. Her touch left him tingling. By the time she let him change position, his thighs were burning, and his butt had settled on to his heels.
"Very good," she encouraged him. "The next position is called Greeting to the Master. I often say the Lord's Prayer when I'm on this position because God is my master. Other people have another master, but that doesn't work for me. Look at me and do what I do."
Slowly and fluidly, she brought her arms up and over her head, placed her hands together, arched her back, and looked at her hands.
He mimicked her moves, and felt muscles stretch through his torso and back.
"Good. Arch your back a little more and straighten your arms."
He did as he was told and felt his arms start to tingle.
"Ok, now focus on holding that position. Don't let yourself slouch, and don't let your arms bend."
He found himself breaking a sweat by the time she told him to move again.
"Time for a little rest. This is called the Hare. Bend forward at the hips and put your forearms flat on the floor over your head. Touch your forehead to the floor, and try to keep your butt down, but don't push it."
He could feel his neck, shoulders, and back relax as he continued to breathe deeply.
"That's excellent, Steve."
It seemed she let him stay in the position a little longer than the others, but he found it unexpectedly comfortable and didn't complain.
The next position was called the caterpillar, and it was surprisingly complex. He had the Devil's own time making his body do what it was supposed to, and finally, Liv had to laugh at him a little.
"Here," she said with a chuckle. "Let me help."
She put a finger on the floor in front of his face and said, "Put your chin here and look straight ahead at the baseboard."
He did.
"Good. Now, chest on the floor, hands on the floor, palms down beside your shoulders." She helped him position his hands and pulled his elbows in a bit.
"Butt in the air," she said, and as she put one hand against his pelvis and the other on his rear to help him get into position, all the tingling that had been going on in his body migrated instantly toward her touch.
"Ohhh," he moaned.
"Steve, if it hurts, we should stop."
"It doesn't hurt," he said, suddenly short of breath.
"Then what's wrong?"
"It's just…where you're touching me."
"Oh." As she felt his arousal, her hands jerked away as if she had burned them.
"OH!" After a pause, she flexed his feet so his toes curled under. "Now, just relax, and find your breathing rhythm again."
He focused on his breathing, and, fortunately, as it slowed and deepened again, *everything* started to relax
"You ok?"
"Yeah."
"All right. Now the cobra's easy."
He watched as she straightened her legs, laid her feet flat, and pushed her torso up. He copied her.
"Shoulders down, Steve. Don't lift your pelvis."
He felt a good stretch through his chest and ribs, but after a while, his arms started to tremble. By now, he was dripping with perspiration. He snuck another peek at Olivia and jealously thought she looked like she could hold that position, or any of the others, all day.
"Now the Mountain," she finally said. "Watch carefully." She modeled her instructions as she gave them. "Tuck your toes under, straighten your legs, and raise your butt way up. Shift your weight back, and put your heels down. Hands on the floor and arms straight, let your head hang relaxed between your arms. Look at your bellybutton. Don't hyperextend your knees."
It looked simple, but Steve had barely started to move when she stopped him with a, "Nope!"
"What?!"
"Don't rock back on your knees. Keep your legs straight and just lift your butt."
This time, he found it much more difficult, but he managed to get his rear in the air. He also managed to get himself stuck.
"Uh, Liv."
"Hmmm?"
"I can't put my heels down."
"It will come in time, sweetie. For now just hold your position where you are."
An eternity passed.
"Ok. Now walk your feet forward until you can put your heels down."
He was amazed to feel the stretch in his calf muscles.
The next position was Sprinter. It was a basic lunge, but by this time he was so tired, he had trouble maintaining his balance for two minutes. For the position Hero, all he had to do was stay in the lunge and put his hands together over his head and stretch, but this time he lost his balance altogether and fell over.
Olivia didn't move a muscle, but she giggled at him and said, "Take a break, go back to the Sprinter position and try again."
He watched her for a minute. She was totally absorbed in her breathing. Now he understood why she could not hear him when he knocked at her door on Christmas morning. He went back to the Sprinter position, shifted into the Hero position and this time successfully held it until she told him to move again.
She had him go back to Sprinter, then into the Forward Bend. It simply involved putting his feet and hands flat on the floor beside each other, but he couldn't quite do it.
"Liv, my arms aren't long enough. I can touch the floor all right, but I can't put my hands down flat."
She giggled again, and he had to smile.
"Your arms are the perfect length, Steve. You just lack flexibility. It will come in time. For now, just hang out."
As he relaxed his upper body, he felt his back and neck stretch and his shoulders relax. The next position was a simple stretch, just like Greeting to the Master, except that he was standing with his feet together instead of kneeling.
"Good, Steve. Great. You're halfway done."
"Huh? There's more? God."
"Relax, babe. There's nothing new at this point. It's all the same stuff, just in reverse order."
There were subtle differences in how he moved from one position to the next, but on the whole, Steve felt much more confident going through the second half of the routine. In the Mountain position, he had to walk forward again to get his heels on the floor, and he still needed Liv's help with the Caterpillar, but by the end of the routine, he felt almost exhilarated.
Finally, he and Liv sat facing each other in the Vajrasan position. She looked calm and relaxed, but he was soaked with perspiration.
"How do you feel?"
With some chagrin, he admitted, "Like I've had a real workout. I would never have believed how strenuous it was if I hadn't tried it myself. I can't believe you didn't even break a sweat."
She chuckled. "I'm sorry, this is usually not in my nature, but, I TOLD YOU SO."
Steve laughed good-naturedly and said, "Yes, you did. In the future I will know not to doubt you."
"Good. Now, my routine involves all the positions, synchronized with regulated breathing, but as a beginner, if you just hold each of the positions for a minute or two, and breathe normally, you'll get just as good a workout. If you don't want to do the entire sequence, focus on caterpillar, cobra, mountain, sprinter, and hero. They would be especially good for you because they all work on the pelvis and legs."
She had him hold the sprinter position while she demonstrated what her whole routine looked like with the breathing and everything. When she was half finished, she had him switch to the Hero, and he struggled to maintain his balance. He could hear her breath as she inhaled and exhaled with her movements. It only took her a few minutes to complete the routine.
"Wow. I guess I was really slowing you down."
"You'll get better with practice," she assured him.
After that, Steve and Liv worked out together almost every day. Whenever she caught him ogling her, she'd find some small error in his posture that she simply had to get up and correct. It became a pleasant game, trying to catch a peek without getting caught peeking, and she never complained about having to break her concentration to correct him. In short order, he found his posture and stamina improving. He didn't get frustrated at work as easily, and, most surprisingly, he reduced his coffee intake by nearly a third. Soon he was taking the workouts seriously and genuinely trying to perfect his poses.
One day, Mark and Jesse happened to walk in on him and Liv while they were exercising in his living room at the beach house.
"I don't know, Mark," Jesse said with a snicker, "Don't you think he's getting a little carried away with this?"
"As long as he doesn't come home in saffron robes with a shaved head, I guess it's ok, Jess."
Liv opened one eye and looked at them, "Those are the Hare Krishnas; this is Khatu Pranam, a yoga sequence developed at Khatu Ashram on the edge of the Thar Desert in the west of Rajasthan, India where the saint Bhagwan Sri Deep Narayan Mahaprabhuji lived for 135 years. I just do it for the exercise. The Krishna's are a religious cult."
"So," Jesse asked, "When does the chanting start?"
Without opening his eyes, Steve said, "No chanting, just breathing."
Liv added, "If I have a mantra, it's 'Thy will be done,' from the Lord's Prayer. Now go away, children and have your fun at someone else's expense, or find the courage to give it a try so you know whereof you speak."
Some time later, Liv and Steve came upstairs for a snack to find Mark and Jesse facing each other, eyes closed, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, with towels wrapped around their heads, barely containing their laughter, chanting, "Om Mane Padme Om."
Before Steve could say anything, Liv winked at him and said acidly, "Y'know, there's a position like that in the Kama Sutra."
Steve snorted with laughter as Jesse jumped to his feet and Mark blushed crimson.
Olivia continued dryly, "But you're not doing it right. The turban's are all wrong, they won't stay on."
Mark took the towel off his head and threw it to Jesse. Not knowing what to do with it, Jesse threw it back to Mark as his own faulty turban came unwound and flopped over his face.
Liv finished her critique, "Your feet should be turned soles up on your thighs in the classic lotus position, and the mantra is 'Om Mane Padme Hung.' It's a way of calling Chenrezig, Lord of Love. Like I said, children," she spoke venomously, "know whereof you speak--and tease. I've been practicing yoga for almost twenty years."
She sniffed and went into the kitchen without so much as a backward glance.
Picking up on her tone, Steve looked at the two of them and asked, "Are you proud of yourselves?"
Mark and Jesse looked shamefacedly at each other and then at Steve.
"We didn't mean anything by it," Mark said defensively.
"We were just kidding around, Steve. You don't think we really offended her, do you?" asked Jesse.
Steve stood feet apart, hands on hips, and said sarcastically, "I don't know guys, what do you think? You should have seen her face when she walked in here."
"Jess," Mark said seriously.
"Yeah, Mark, I know. An apology is definitely in order."
"I'm so glad you both see it that way," Steve said bitterly.
Mark and Jesse shuffled to the kitchen, heads hanging, dragging their towels. Steve followed them, and when he caught Olivia's eye, he gave her the thumbs up signal behind their backs. She killed a grin before Mark and Jesse could look at her.
"Liv?" Jesse started.
Bang! She slammed a couple of plates on the counter and the noise made Jesse and Mark jump.
"What?" She snapped, refusing to look at him.
"Liv, we're sorry. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
Thump! Whack! Cold cuts and mayonnaise joined the plates.
"Really? Maybe you should have considered that before you tied a bath towel around your head."
Thud! A bowl of tomatoes and lettuce took its place on the counter.
"Liv, honey, we're so sorry," Mark finally found his voice. "We never thought you'd take it so seriously. It was all in fun."
"I just have one thing to say," she told them in a tearful voice.
She sniffed deeply, looked Mark in the eye, flashed an impish grin, and said, "Gotcha!!"
Steve began to laugh hysterically. After a moment of gaping confusion, Mark and Jesse realized the tables had been subtly turned to make them the butt of a brilliantly executed joke and they joined in the laughter.
Pointing at Steve, Mark said, "I won't soon forget this, son."
"I wouldn't dream of letting you, Dad," Steve laughingly replied.
"We will get even," Jesse vowed.
Olivia told him, "Catch me if you can! Now who wants what on their sandwiches?"
One morning at the beach house, Olivia woke early and padded out to the kitchen in her fuzzy yellow robe and overstuffed elephant slippers. She poured herself a cup of coffee that had apparently made itself as Mark was nowhere to be found, and headed out to the deck. She was surprised to see Steve there. He was not usually an early riser.
He was standing perfectly still, staring at the ocean. The sun rising behind the house turned the near side of the dunes and waves a shimmering gold and left the far side into darkness. It highlighted Steve's hair, too, and cast his face in shadow. Liv watched him in silence for a long time. After a moment, she saw him close his eyes.
"Good morning, Liv," he said, eyes still closed.
"Good morning, babe. Whatcha lookin' at?"
She saw him smile, and he said, "The future."
She smiled, too, and played along. "Oh. Whatcha see?"
"Come here and I'll show you."
She moved to stand beside him, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders. Never opening his eyes, he began to describe the scene in his mind.
"Right down there, Liv, where it levels off above the high tide line, I see an old man with snowy white hair sitting in a folding chair. There's a demolished picnic spread out on the blanket at his feet, and there are several other people sitting on the edges of the blanket. There's a tall, very elegant black woman at the end of the blanket, and a man who is obviously her husband with his arm around her. To the old man's left is a small blond guy, just starting to go gray, who is teasing an attractive blonde woman. They are clearly a couple. On the old man's right, there's this big guy who looks a lot like the old man, and his hair is getting pretty gray. He's stretched out full length on the blanket, and he has his head resting in the lap of this tiny, spirited redhead. He's so big, and she's so small, she looks like a child, but anyone can tell they've been madly in love for years."
"Mmm," Liv sighed.
"Wait, there's more. There are several younger people on the beach, playing in the surf. Two handsome young black men, each with a date, a blonde kid, considerably younger than the rest, and a stunning, statuesque redhead in her early twenties. She's walking arm in arm with a handsome young man, and they are both quite happy. The little redhead on the blanket is playing with her husband's hair, and she says something to him that makes him look at his daughter and her date, and the two young people come over to them."
"Oh? What has the redhead told her husband?"
"Just that the kids want to talk to him. The daughter shows him a ring on her left hand, and he gets up and hugs her. Then he shakes the young man's hand. The daughter gives her granddad a hug and a kiss, and her fiancé shakes his hand. There are lots of hugs and handshakes, and much admiring of the ring. As the sun starts to set, the people gather up their picnic and head for the house, with the men joking about a bachelor party and the women talking about color schemes and flowers."
"You're quite a visionary, Steve. Do you hallucinate often?"
He chuckled and said, "It's not a hallucination, Liv. It's a dream, maybe a wish. But it's so real I can see every detail. There's another image I can't shake."
"What's that?"
"I see the same people, all dressed up, the men in tuxedos, the women in beautiful dresses. The young redhead and her lover are standing beneath an arch of flowers, and a crowd of friends sits in white folding chairs watching the ceremony. The redhead's mother and father and grandfather watch in delight as she says her vows and gets a kiss from her new husband."
"Steve…"
"Yeah?"
"You're an incurable romantic."
He laughed, "Yeah, I guess so, but you have to admit, it sounds pretty nice doesn't it?"
"It sounds wonderful."
Two weeks flew by, and before they knew it, the time had come to go to Pennsylvania. They were taking an overnight flight into Pittsburgh International Airport, and driving to her hometown from there. They would arrive in the wee hours of the morning with virtually no traffic and have time to get settled at Liv's place before anyone knew they were in town.
Mark drove them to the airport.
"Have a good flight, try to get some sleep on the plane, stay warm, and send me a postcard."
"Sure thing, Dad."
"Call when you get there so I know you made it safely."
"We will, Dad."
"Hey Mark, I'll see if I can get some pictures of Steve with Phil for you."
"Phil?"
"The groundhog!"
"Oh! Yeah, that would be neat."
Steve looked at Liv and said, "I'm not making friends with an overgrown rat."
She just laughed at him, gave Mark a kiss on the cheek, and waved as he drove off.
Steve decided to let himself in through the beach entrance of his apartment. It was after midnight and he didn't want to wake his dad. Olivia had woken up around ten, and they had talked for a while, but when she realized that he had been practically living at her place waiting for word of her whereabouts she insisted that he go home.
"He is your father, Steve. He's family, and he should come first."
"But Liv, he won't mind. He knows how I feel about you."
"That doesn't matter, Steve. You spent a week worrying and wondering about me. I'm sure he was worried about you the whole time. Go home. Let him see that you're ok. We'll get together sometime tomorrow. I promise."
She had, of course, won, but she promised to join the gang for lunch at the hospital.
As he walked around to his private entrance, a stiff breeze picked up and blew a piece of paper across his path. He muttered something about people littering the beach, and picked it up to throw it away when he went in. He let himself in and went straight to his room to change and crawl in bed. He tossed the paper in the wastebasket beside his desk, and as it fell, he noticed his name on it.
"Hmm."
He unfolded it. It was a long letter, signed, "Olivia."
My darling Steve,
I am facing a problem that you cannot help me resolve. In fact, I'm not sure anyone can help me.
I love you, and that means I need you. And so, I must learn to trust you.
Needing someone is a new and frightening thing, darling. I suddenly have to consider your needs and desires. I have to be concerned with your feelings and goals. I have to compromise. My life is no longer my own.
For a long time, I took great comfort in being alone against the world. I never had to risk someone else letting me down. I knew God had a plan for me, and I could fight it or follow it, but ultimately I got to decide how to get where he wanted me to go. Now it seems he has a plan for us, so I must learn to share my path with you.
There was a time, not long ago, when I would have resented sharing my bathroom. Now I find I want to share my life, but I don't know how. Forgive me if it seems I don't trust you, Steve, but trust is learned as much as it is earned. You have done your part, but I am still working on mine. Please be patient.
In all my wanderings, I was sure of one thing. I was an island, alone, self- sufficient, and completely independent. Now that my heart has bound me to you, I feel as though I have been cut adrift. It is quite a paradox, really, and one that I must resolve for myself.
I need some time to think, and you, my love, are too much of a distraction. I want to surrender everything to you, Steve, but I am afraid. Love has always hurt me, and everyone I have ever counted on has let me down. It has taken me many years to overcome my past and develop the self-confidence and self-esteem I have now. I like who I am, but much of my character has grown out of fending for myself and relying on no one. I am afraid to depend on you because it might cost me my hard-won identity, and I'm not sure either of us would like the person I would become.
I'm not running away this time. I promise. I'll be back as soon as I figure out how to give you my heart without losing myself.
Soon to be yours…
Truly,
Olivia
At the end, there was a P.S. with an address in Rockport, Washington saying, "Do not disturb except in case of emergency."
Steve frowned. Judging by the conversation they'd had earlier in the evening, Olivia really hadn't resolved much of anything. He had to figure out a way to help her. He shook his head. Whatever he did, it would have to wait until tomorrow. He was far too tired to think anymore tonight.
"It's ok, sweetheart, you can trust me."
"I…I don't know, Steve. Can't we just go back?"
"Liv, we've been hiking most of the day. There's a ranger's station just down the trail. We can make it before the storm hits, but if we try to go back…. It's just too dangerous."
They were on a rope and board suspension bridge across a deep chasm, and when they got to the middle, they found some boards had broken off and fallen out. Steve had easily hopped across the hole, but Liv was afraid she wouldn't make it.
"Just jump, sweetie. It's not that far, really. You can make it, and I'm right here to help. Trust me."
"O-Ok. Here, take this first."
She tossed him her pack, and he staggered under the force of it hitting him in the chest.
"Jesus, Liv, what's in here, bricks?"
"Everything."
He put the pack down on the bridge behind him and turned to her.
"Ok, love. Take a couple steps back, get a good start, and when you get to the edge, jump. I'll be right here to catch you."
She nodded, stepped back, and made the short run up to the hole. He watched as she leaped into the air. Certain that she was going to land safely well beyond the hole; he turned aside to get out of her way. When she landed just at the edge, he was shocked. Her trajectory should have landed her a couple feet ahead of him. She lost her balance and her arms started to windmill. He reached out to steady her, but it felt as though he was moving through molasses. Just as his fingers touched her jacket, her feet slipped, and she plunged through the hole.
"Steeeeeeeve!!!!!"
"Liv!!!!!"
He sat bolt upright in bed, panting, soaked in sweat, heart pounding, sheets twisted around his legs and balled up in his fists. He took a couple deep breaths, and said aloud to the darkness, "It was just a dream."
A moment later, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Great, he'd woken his father.
Mark came in the room without knocking.
"Steve, you ok? What's the matter?"
Steve reached over and turned on the lamp beside his bed. Squinting in the sudden brightness, he said, "I'm ok, Dad. It was just a bad dream."
"Son, I heard you screaming for Olivia. You remember that she came home, right?"
"Yeah, Dad, I do."
Mark sat on the edge of the bed.
"Want to talk about it?"
Steve closed his eyes and thought a moment. Shaking his head, he said, "Nothing to talk about. I can't remember."
"Ok, then." Mark twisted up his face in a look of confusion. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you'd spend the night with her."
Steve gave his dad a wry smile. "She made me come home. She said I should let you see that I was all right. She'd probably have let me stay had she known this would to happen. Uh…sorry I woke you."
Mark turned Steve's alarm clock around so he could see the face. It was 5:48.
"I'd be getting up in twelve minutes, anyway. Don't worry about it." Peering at his son's face, he asked, "You are ok, right?"
"Yeah, dad, I'm fine," Steve insisted in a tone that suggested he found his father's continued inquiry a bit odd.
"And the nightmare, son? How do you explain that?"
Steve shrugged. "I've had a few strange dreams since I met Olivia. I only remember bits and pieces, but they all seem to be different. It's not a recurring nightmare, and it doesn't happen often. It might be just a response to her emotional state."
Mark reached out and squeezed his son's shoulder. Looking Steve in the eye, he said, "Ok, but if it becomes a problem, I want to know, understand?"
Steve nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now what do you want for breakfast?"
With a mischievous grin, Steve said, "Surprise me."
Mark chuckled. "One surprise special, coming up."
Steve groaned. He was amazed at how much paperwork his job generated. He'd only worked three cases in the past five months, and already he was behind. It was a relief and delight when he looked up to see Olivia walk in the office just as he opened another folder. He sighed, smiled, and stood up to greet her.
She was looking lovely as always in a pale yellow long-sleeved knit dress, close fitting down to the waist, then flaring slightly from the hips down. She wore her watch and the necklace he had given her, and her curly red hair was pulled back to reveal pearl earrings. He was surprised to see her greet and chat familiarly with everyone she passed on her way to his desk. Finally, she gave Cheryl a nod and a smile, then turned and wrapped her arms around him.
As he pulled her close and breathed in her scent, he became aware of several of his fellow detectives watching him. For a split second he was self-conscious, then he thought, 'Screw it. This is delicious, and after everything we've been through, we both have a right to enjoy it, no matter who's watching.'
She pulled back slightly from his embrace, kissed him, and, still holding his hand, seated herself in the chair beside his desk. He took a seat as well, and sat there admiring her.
"I've just come from giving detective Simmons my statement," she said. "I was actually a little nervous about it. I thought he might…have words for me…about wasting his time the way I did, but he was really very nice."
"Yeah," Steve agreed, "Simmons is a good guy. I sure didn't make things easy for him."
Olivia looked down, and whispered, "Nor I, for you."
"Hey, now," he took her chin and tipped her face up to look at him. "That's all water under the bridge."
For some reason, he got a mental picture of a broken suspension bridge across a deep gorge with himself looking in horror through the hole to the river below. He shook off the sudden chill he felt, and said, "Besides, I found your note. The wind blew it right to me last night as I was going in the house."
She smiled. "Really? Then you understand why I had to go away?"
"Better than I did last night, but I think we need to talk about it some more."
"Ok." She looked at her watch. "Well, I have an appointment with Dr. Gregg in half an hour. I just stopped to say hello. See you at lunch, right?"
"I'll be there at noon."
She leaned forward and kissed him. "Bye, babe."
He admired her from the back as she walked away, and gave several of his colleagues a dirty look when he caught them watching her with a bit too much interest.
He heard Cheryl laugh and say, "Don't be jealous. She's a beautiful woman. They can't help it any more than you can."
"Who's jealous? I was just surprised that everyone had so much to say to her when she came in."
"When you were in the hospital, she came by two or three days a week to let us know how you were doing, and she made friends with a quite few people. No one ever said anything out of the way to her, and while she was charming and friendly to everyone, she never looked at anybody the way she does at you."
"Sometimes I still wonder why."
Cheryl grinned, "So do I."
Steve made a face, and she continued, "Seriously, Steve, she loves you like…that's what God made her to do. Everyone here can see it, and that's why none of the guys will ever do more than admire her from a distance. Her heart belongs to you alone."
Steve became pensive for a moment then said, "You're a good partner, Cheryl. Thanks."
She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and said, "Don't mention it."
Olivia was the last to arrive at lunch. Steve watched her carefully as she walked through the cafeteria. Until today at the precinct, he'd never noticed just how much attention she attracted. She smiled and nodded at everyone, joked with the cashier, and when she stopped to chat with the occupants of another table, he saw her give one of the doctors a pat on the back. Any other woman would have been flirting, but Liv was just being friendly. She genuinely cared about people.
As she got to their table, she gave Jesse a friendly swat on the shoulder. "Good call on that spiral fracture today, Jess. That was no accident; somebody took that child's arm and twisted it until it snapped."
"That's what I figured," Jesse agreed. "Did you get anywhere with the mother or with social services?"
Liv nodded. "As it turns out little Ernie's step-dad has three children, all by other women, all of whom he's been abusing. The social worker and I dug into the records and found them. We've convinced them that there's strength in numbers. Ernie's mom has applied for a restraining order, and all four women have decided to press charges. I expect they'll be arresting the step-dad by the end of the day."
She put her tray down and placed a hand on Mark's back. "I want to schedule Mrs. Kowalski for that knee replacement soon. She insists that you be there to supervise."
"Oh, really?" Mark asked with a laugh. "I told her you're the expert."
"Oh, I know," Olivia said as she took a seat. "She told me so herself." Mimicking an older woman, she said, "'Now, honey, don't get your feelings hurt. I know that doctor's magazine --What is it? Pajamas? Such a name-- says you're the very best. Dr. Sloan had me read the article and everything, though I really didn't understand much of it.'" She waved her hand to indicate just what she thought of the article in question. "'But you're just so young. I'm afraid you might panic or something, then where would I be? Oy. That's why I want Dr. Sloan there. He's mature, experienced, and steady. You don't mind, do you?'"
Olivia snapped back to herself for a moment, "Oh, no, ma'am, but officially, as your orthopedic surgeon, I'll be in charge, and he'll be assisting."
The older lady took over again. "Call it what you want, sweetie. As long as he's there, I'll know what's really going on."
Mark chuckled and said, "Reverse ageism."
Liv slipped her left hand into Steve's right. It had become a convenient and comfortable habit for them since he was left-handed and she was right- handed. She gave him a kiss while they all had a laugh at her expense. Looking at Mark she said, "I'll have Carolyn set up a time with you for early next week, ok?"
Mark was still chuckling as he said, "Fine with me, but you really shouldn't let her manipulate you like that."
Olivia brandished her fork about as she spoke. "Oh, what's the harm, really? She's a lonely old woman and surgery's a scary thing. Might as well put her at ease." She pointed at Mark with her fork as if to make a point. "Now if you were putting such ideas into her head, we would have to have a serious talk."
Mark held both hands up innocently and laughed, "Oh, no, I'm not looking for trouble."
She turned to Steve and asked accusingly, "And just what is that grin for?"
He took her by complete surprise as he kissed her on the tip of the nose and said, "I was just thinking how lucky I am."
Liv blushed and said, "Oh, Steve."
Jesse folded his hands, batted his eyes, and said, "Awwwwww." Then he said "Owwwww!!" as both Liv and Steve kicked him under the table.
Turning to Amanda, Liv said, "So, how are the boys?"
"They're doing great," Amanda beamed. "Dion just got his progress report. Four A's and three B's, and CJ's got the lead in his class play."
And so went lunch. In Steve's mind, Liv was like a queen holding court. Everyone got a chance to talk, and she had a witty, pithy, or practical comment for everything that was said. For him, having her beside him made a normal lunch with his dad and friends a rare pleasure, and he savored every moment of it.
As lunch ended, Liv graciously offered to collect everyone's trays and dishes and carried them to the return area. There was a bit more than she could reliably carry, so Steve helped her. As she left the cafeteria, he automatically fell into step beside her.
Halfway to her office, she said, "I know the way, Steve."
"Uh-huh."
"So what's up?"
"Remember at the precinct I told you I wanted to talk with you about your letter a little more?"
"Oh."
He stopped her and turned to face her. "Would you rather put it off until this evening?"
She thought a moment, then said, "Don't see much use in that, do you?"
He grinned and said, "Good, we're on the same wavelength."
In the office, he began. He'd been thinking, and felt he really had a handle on the matter.
"I'm no shrink, Liv, but I'd be happy to go to Dr. Gregg with you or to let you go by yourself. I just want to know that we're working on this problem together, ok?"
She nodded.
"The way I see it, and please correct me if I'm wrong, this problem boils down to three basic issues: love, independence, and trust. Is that about right?"
She nodded again, and the small smile on her face encouraged him.
"Ok, as far as love goes, I love you. I adore you. I worship you. I will continue to do so even after our bones have crumbled to dust and blown away on the wind."
"Oh, Steve," she said, "I love you, too, so much I wish we could share the same skin."
He looked at her and smiled adoringly. "You do?"
"Oh, yes."
"Thanks." Immediately he was all business again. "Now, about independence. I think couples are stronger and more complete when the individuals spend time apart. I think it's important to have experiences and adventures that are separate from your partner. That way, when you come back together, you both have new and exciting things to share. But I want you to know one thing, I would never dream of having an intimate relationship with anyone else, and I wouldn't want you to either."
"Steve, I would never consider a relationship that wasn't monogamous and mutually exclusive, and like you, I think it's important to have our separate lives. It brings more to the relationship. I know as a cop there will be times when you are gone for a while on stakeout or working nights. There will be times when I want to go off like I did last week and be alone. I just want to know that when I'm through doing my thing, and you're through doing your thing we'll each come home to the other."
"I'm ok with that, Liv. Don't ever think you need my permission." He grinned. "But in the future, don't tape a note to my door. Talk to me or put the note on my pillow before you go off, ok?"
She laughed halfheartedly and said, "You got it, babe."
"So," he said, "When it comes to love and independence, we have pretty much the same ideas, huh?"
"Yup."
He rested his chin on folded hands. "Then what's the problem with trust, Liv?"
After a long pause she said, "I talked with Dr. Gregg about this today."
"You did?"
She nodded.
"And what did you resolve?"
She became thoughtful. Quietly she said, "I need to know that you can still love me in spite of the fears and nightmares and mistakes I haven't told you about yet."
"Liv, honey, I can say, 'trust me' until I turn blue and pass out. But I can't prove myself until you give me the chance. You have to tell me what it is that you think is so terrible that it would split us up."
Teary-eyed now, she answered, "I know, Steve, but I can't do that here."
Confused, he asked, "Do you want to go back to your house or to Dr. Gregg's office?"
She laughed sweetly but ironically, "No, babe, when I say here, I mean in this world, surrounded by your friends and family and familiar places. That's why I want you to go back to Pennsylvania with me."
Steve took her hand and said, "Sweetie, you have friends here."
She pulled away, "Yeah, Steve, your friends. I do love them, but it's not the same. It's not the same as being home." She took a deep, shaky breath and said, "I promise you, when we go to Pennsylvania I will tell you…everything that I'm afraid to tell you. Back there I have roots, history, and a foundation. I have a past, troubled as it may be. If our little dream castle falls apart, I'll have something to rebuild on. Out here…all I have are the shifting sands of the beach at Malibu."
He stared at her until she locked eyes with him.
"I won't let you down, Liv. I'll wait until your ready, then I'll prove that you can trust me."
"I know that's what you believe, Steve Sloan. I hope you're right."
They did not discuss the issue of trust again.
Over the next two weeks, Steve and Olivia developed a comfortable routine. When he worked late, he spent the night at her house, and when he got off early, he'd pick her up and take her out to Malibu with him. He or his dad would then take her back to her place on the way in to work in the morning.
They often made love when he spent the night at her house. It was fun for each of them to find new ways of pleasing the other. Olivia had discovered his ticklish spot, and she delighted in attacking him at the most inopportune moments. Their lovemaking always ended the same way, though, and that gave Steve the greatest pleasure of all. She would curl up beside him and sigh like a contented cat, and resting her head on his chest, she would lightly tap her fingers on his ribcage to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Nights when she stayed at the beach house, she insisted on sleeping in the guest room.
"Liv," Steve insisted, "Dad gives me my privacy. He won't interrupt."
"That's not the point, baby," she said, caressing his cheek. "It's a matter of respect. He's your father, my boss."
"And it's my apartment."
"In his house. If you like, I can go back to my place. Alone. Or I can stay here, in the guest room. But as long as he lives here I will not tryst with you in this house."
Steve had finally capitulated, but he got little sleep those nights she spent just up the stairs from him.
Some nights, they both brought work home. She would have notes to dictate and forms to sign, and he would have files to read through looking to put the pieces of a murder together. One night they were in the den working in companionable silence when suddenly Steve went into a fit of temper.
"Dammit all to hell!" He closed the file and threw it on the coffee table.
"Steve! Mind you tongue!"
"I'm sorry, Liv, but don't get on me about my language right now." He rose and began to pace the room. Pointing to the file, he said, "That is a nine- year-old boy. Somebody bashed his skull in, and I can't even identify the…darned…murder weapon. I'm not even sure there was only one weapon. It looks like three distinct objects, and I can't figure out what any of them are."
She looked him over a minute and said, "I see. Well, cussing and wearing a hole in the rug isn't going to help. Get us something to drink, and we'll both take a look at the file. I'll take a Jed's."
Steve walked off grumbling and came back scowling with a beer in one hand and a Jed's hard lemonade in the other. Olivia had pushed the coffee table out a couple feet and was sitting cross-legged on the couch. She indicated that Steve should sit on the floor in front of her. He knew that meant he was about to get a neck rub, and he was grateful.
Putting her drink down, she said, "Ok, before you open the file, tell me what you know."
Steve took a swig on his beer, closed his eyes, and, as Liv's strong fingers massaged the muscles at the base of his skull, he began to recite the details of the case. "Nine-year-old Jason McIntyre stayed home from school sick on Friday, January 18. He was found dead in the back yard at three fifteen when his older brother came home from school and went outside to feed the dog. He's the third of four children. Older sister, Anna, is a sophomore in high school. Older brother, Darren, is in the eighth grade, and younger sister, Jennie, is in second grade. The father, Frank, forty- nine, is the manager of a local sporting goods store, and the mother, Renee, thirty-eight, is a part time receptionist for an orthodontist, Dr. Harold…Askins, I think. It's in the file, and he does the kids teeth."
Liv gently pushed his head forward and began to work on his neck and shoulders. "Wow."
"Wow, what?"
"You have an amazing memory for detail. I never knew."
Steve shrugged. "It's a skill you develop with the job. Saves you the trouble of looking everything up all the time."
"I see. Continue."
"Jason died of severe head trauma, but we can't tell what he was hit with. We're not even sure how many times he was hit. The wounds are a funny shape, and it looks like he was hit from both the left and the right."
"Weird."
"Yeah."
"Was he killed at the scene or moved there after he died?"
"Died at the scene."
Olivia was kneading the muscles in his upper back now, and he sighed as the tension of the day melted away.
"Who stayed home with him?"
"His mother."
"The other kids were all at school, and the father was at work for sure?"
"Yep. Alibi's all check out."
"So who are your suspects?"
"The only one we have is the mother."
"That stinks."
"Yeah."
"You have pictures of the scene and x-rays in the file?"
"Yup."
"Show me."
Steve craned his neck to look at her. "Liv, they're pretty grisly."
She nudged him forward and sat on the floor behind him, straddling him with her legs and continued massaging his middle and lower back. Despite the conversation, Steve found himself getting very aroused. Liv, on the other hand was all business.
"You said it yourself, it's a nine-year-old boy. I want to help if I can. If I can't stand to look, I'll just put the pictures back."
She leaned sideways to peek around him as her thumbs made small circles on each side of the vertebrae all the way down his spine. He heard her gasp when he spread out the pictures to reveal the photos of the young victim.
"My God, Steve. I can't believe you deal with this kind of thing every day."
"It's worse when it's a kid, but you learn to build walls."
Liv sat very still for a long time and stared at the pictures. Only her hands moved as she continued massaging his back. Steve wrapped her legs around his waist and began rubbing her feet hoping that keeping his hands busy would distract him from other body parts that were getting busy all by themselves. It didn't work.
Suddenly she gasped a little "Oh!" and jumped up, saying, "I'll be right back. Don't move a thing."
Steve groaned in frustration. Then he laughed. At least she wasn't giggling.
A few minutes later, she came back with a melon and a ski pole.
She moved the papers on her desk off to the side, stacked a few books on the corner, and sat the melon on top of them.
"That's about the right height for a nine-year-old," she muttered.
Then she took the picture that showed Jason's injuries, studied it for a moment, and whacked the melon twice with the ski pole.
"Now he falls to his knees," she told Steve.
She put the melon on the desk chair, and tilted it a little away from her. It rolled back, so she got an eraser from the desk and used it to prop the melon in place. She whacked it twice more.
She put the melon on the floor and again propped it in position with the eraser.
"Now he's on the ground."
She whacked the melon one more time and brought it and the picture over to Steve for comparison.
Pointing to two grooves in the melon rind and then to two corresponding wounds on Jason's skull, she said, "He was standing up fairly close to his attacker for the first two blows." She put the pole in one of the grooves. "The shaft of the pole hit him, but not the basket," she said, indicating first the pole itself, then the small metal disk at the end.
Next, she pointed to two t-shaped wounds, "When he dropped to his knees, he was farther away from his attacker, and the basket dug in a little because it's at the end of the pole."
Indicating the remaining wound, which was really just a slit, she explained, "When he was all the way down, the basket was all that caught him, and this is what you get. It looks like he was hit from the left and right because the basket crosses the pole at right angles."
"One, problem, Liv," Steve said. "Skulls are a lot harder than melons."
"Not when you're nine years old. Besides, the new graphite and alloy ski poles are a lot tougher than old-fashioned aluminum ones like this."
"You know, someone told me you don't ski."
"I only tried it once. Tore up my ankle and my knee."
"And you still have the equipment?"
"Just the pole, for a souvenir."
She pulled over a picture that showed a green station wagon in the background. "Find that car, and you'll find the murder weapon."
Steve took a closer look and saw what she was talking about.
"Skis."
"Yup. And talk to the mother. I don't know if it was negligence or intent, but she had something to do with this."
Steve was puzzled. "Why do you say that?"
"He was nine years old and home sick from school. My mama wouldn't have let me out of the bed, let alone out of the house, would yours?"
Steve shook his head. "No, she wouldn't."
She sat back down behind him, wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his chest, rested her cheek in the center of his back, and said, "Please put those awful pictures away now."
He could hear her weeping as he did what she asked. He pried her hands loose, stood up, and offered her a hand up. When she rose, he took her in his arms.
"I'm sorry I let you look at the pictures."
"I wouldn't have been able to help if you hadn't. I feel good about helping, but I just can't imagine what kind of person would do something so horrible."
"Well, when we find out and send the person to jail, I'll be sure to let you know."
He scooped her up and carried her back to bed. That night they didn't make love. He just held her close while she cried for little Jason McIntyre.
A few days later they were all having dinner at the beach house when Steve said, "Liv, you were right on the money about Jason McIntyre."
The smile fell from her face and she said softly, "Was I?"
He nodded, his mouth full of hamburger and fries.
Swallowing, he began to tell the whole tale. "The car belonged to the orthodontist. He and the mother were having an affair. Jason woke up and went looking for his mother to make him some soup."
She stood up from the table. "Oh, Steve," she said, "I don't think I can hear any more." She went into the living room.
As his father and friends exchanged worried glances, he said, "It'll be ok. We'll be right back."
He followed her into the living room and wrapped his arms around her. She was crying.
"Liv," he said gently, "I know it's horrible, but I have found that knowing the ending makes it easier to deal with. Will you let me tell you what we found?"
After a moment, she nodded and said, "Just make it quick."
"Jason caught them in the act. The orthodontist told the mother he'd take care of it. She thought he was going to talk to Jason and make him promise to keep it a secret. While she was showering, the orthodontist did exactly what you said. Then he went for a walk. When the mother got out of the shower, the house was quiet. She thought Jason had gone back to bed and her lover had gone home. She didn't know what had happened until her older son found the body. The orthodontist still had the ski pole on the roof of his car. He hadn't even bothered to clean it."
In an empty voice, she asked, "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Steve sat on the couch and pulled her into his lap.
"Maybe not right away, but you might get some satisfaction from knowing that the person who did it will pay for his crime."
"And that little boy's still dead."
Steve sighed in frustration.
"Yeah, he is. I'm no miracle worker, Liv. What's done is done. The system can't undo a crime, but it can exact payment."
"And that little boy's still dead," she reiterated.
Steve was losing patience.
"Liv, this may sound harsh, but my job is not to mourn for the dead. It is to find their killers. I cannot indulge in the former and still do the latter. I'd never survive. I cannot feel for that little boy the way you do, but I can be damned glad we got his killer."
He saw her flinch when he cursed, and immediately felt sorry.
"I'm proud and grateful that you figured it out, Liv, because I don't think I could have, but don't expect me to grieve for him. I just can't do that."
He heard her sniffle and she turned to lay her head against his chest. "I'm sorry, Steve. I guess I just haven't developed those walls you were talking about the other day."
"That's ok, sweetie. I wouldn't want you to. I love you the way you are."
"I'm proud of you, Steve, that you can do such a…grim…job, but maybe I shouldn't try to help any more."
"Ok, honey," he said kissing her temple. "That'll be just fine," but secretly he wondered what kind of strain it would put on their relationship. He and his dad and his friends spent so much time discussing his cases, he wondered how often she would be left out. He gave a mental shrug. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it.
He shook his head when he got that weird image of the broken suspension bridge again.
"Let's go finish our dinner, ok?"
She nodded.
Back at the table, there was a collective gasp when Jesse thoughtlessly asked, "By the way, Liv. How in the world did you guess that the murder weapon was a ski pole?"
Jesse squirmed in embarrassment, but thought saying anything else would only draw more attention to his faux pas.
After the briefest hesitation, Liv said, "I've seen it before."
Everyone waited for further explanation, but none seemed to be forthcoming. Liv had a glint in her eye that Steve knew all to well. If she didn't volunteer the rest of the story, he would ask her, but first he wanted to see if anyone else spotted the mischief in her eyes. Finally, Amanda decided the best thing to do would be to get the whole story out now and save them all the awkwardness of wondering when they'd hear the rest and what the fallout would be. "Ok, I'll bite. When and where?"
Olivia smiled and it made her eyes sparkle. With some satisfaction, Steve thought things might be ok after all. He had never known a woman who could shift emotional gears the way Liv could, and in all her many moods, he had never seen a nasty one.
"When I was eighteen, I bought myself a pair of skis for Christmas."
They all leaned forward as they sensed a story spinning.
"The only decent slope around was also a cow pasture. It didn't seem nearly as steep walking up as it did flying down at three thousand miles an hour."
They all chuckled.
"Dodging cow patties was no picnic for a beginner, either."
Everyone groaned.
"I hit a cow."
The whole gang laughed out loud.
"Somehow, she stepped on my right ski." Olivia gestured straight ahead as if she were pointing down the slope. "I was still going." Slapping her thigh, she said, "My right leg stopped."
Her audience moaned in sympathetic pain.
Olivia held up both hands as if framing a picture. "I hit her back left flank, bounced off, and fell down to my right. I was moving fast enough and the surface of the snow was hard enough that I started to roll…right under the wrong end of the cow."
Everyone became still.
"My leg stayed where it was. She did what your thinking."
The table exploded in laughter. Steve saw his father dab away tears of mirth. Amanda shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. Jesse bounced in his chair like an excited child.
Olivia waited for quiet before she continued.
"Then she shifted her weight to stand on my knee. I broke through the crust of the snow at the pressure point, but most of my calf and thigh stayed on the surface, so things were all bent out of shape."
They all moaned in sympathy again.
"There is nothing so implacable as cow in winter pasture. She wouldn't move. One of her feet was on the ski, and the other was on my knee. I couldn't reach the binding to loose my foot from the ski, and I couldn't roll up hill, so there was no way to release the pressure on my knee and ankle. The manure was starting to freeze fast."
Steve cringed and saw Amanda shiver at the thought.
"So I beat her with the ski pole until she moved."
Liv held her hands up again, this time as if she were holding something. "My knee swelled up as big as a basketball, and my ankle was the size of a bowling ball." Olivia started to snicker. "The cow had little T-shaped welts on her butt. I was on crutches until Easter."
"And that's why you don't ski, huh?" Jesse asked.
Liv nodded with a laugh, "And precisely why I never will."
Most of the time now, Steve felt like he was back to one hundred percent. The only times he got stiff and sore were when he had spent an extended time sitting or after extra strenuous physical activity like a long chase after a suspect. He'd had no problem at all fitting the exercises Davis had prescribed into his regular workout routine. Most of them were just regular fitness and bodybuilding exercises. He still wore the brace a few nights a week, and it made his leg ache some, but he hadn't had any muscle spasms in weeks. Olivia still insisted that he keep his Darvocet handy, just in case, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd needed anything stronger than a couple of Advil.
One morning when they both had the day off, he decided to get Liv to teach him about yoga. She'd told him several times that it could help with his occasional stiffness, and she said the meditation would leave him mentally sharper and more alert. He had often enjoyed watching her go through her routine, and had noticed that it always left her considerably mellower than on the days she didn't work out. If nothing else, he expected to get a good stretch and a nice view of her shapely bottom.
As it turned out, he got more than he bargained for.
"Ok," she said excitedly. "There are ten positions, and each one has specific healthful effects on the body. I generally coordinate the routine with my breathing, but that can wait until you learn to perform each position properly. For now, I just want you to hold each position for a while and breathe."
Steve nodded. "Sounds easy enough."
"Don't be surprised if you have a hard time at first," she said in a warning tone. "It takes a lot more strength and concentration than you might think. In some of the positions, you'll be using a lot of the little stabilizing muscles that generally don't get a workout when you lift weights or do aerobic activities."
"Liv, I've been athletic all my life. This should not be difficult for me."
"We'll see," she said knowingly. "If you stick with it you'll see your strength, stamina, balance, and flexibility all improve."
"Bring it on, babe."
The first position was called Vajrasan. At first he couldn't quite get his butt to touch his heels the way Liv did, but she told him that would come in time. She told him she would have him hold the position for two or three minutes, but it seemed much longer. He started to fidget.
"Be still, Steve, and square your shoulders," she told him softly. "Close your eyes, and breathe deeply."
He tried to match his breathing with hers, but like the day in Dr. Gregg's office, he couldn't follow the slow pace she set.
He couldn't resist a peek at her. Her eyes were closed and she had a tranquil expression on her lovely face. After a moment, she told him, "Close your eyes and find your own rhythm. Don't try to keep up with me. You shouldn't be able to. I've had more practice, and your metabolism is higher because you're a man and you have so much more muscle mass. You *should* require more oxygen."
He quickly shut his eyes. He felt like a kid caught cheating on a test. She had never opened her eyes. He wondered if she knew he was peeking and how she knew he'd been trying to match her breathing. He heard her move, but before he could do anything, she said, "Keep your eyes closed, and keep breathing."
She gently squared his shoulders, straightened his arms, and lifted his chin. Her touch left him tingling. By the time she let him change position, his thighs were burning, and his butt had settled on to his heels.
"Very good," she encouraged him. "The next position is called Greeting to the Master. I often say the Lord's Prayer when I'm on this position because God is my master. Other people have another master, but that doesn't work for me. Look at me and do what I do."
Slowly and fluidly, she brought her arms up and over her head, placed her hands together, arched her back, and looked at her hands.
He mimicked her moves, and felt muscles stretch through his torso and back.
"Good. Arch your back a little more and straighten your arms."
He did as he was told and felt his arms start to tingle.
"Ok, now focus on holding that position. Don't let yourself slouch, and don't let your arms bend."
He found himself breaking a sweat by the time she told him to move again.
"Time for a little rest. This is called the Hare. Bend forward at the hips and put your forearms flat on the floor over your head. Touch your forehead to the floor, and try to keep your butt down, but don't push it."
He could feel his neck, shoulders, and back relax as he continued to breathe deeply.
"That's excellent, Steve."
It seemed she let him stay in the position a little longer than the others, but he found it unexpectedly comfortable and didn't complain.
The next position was called the caterpillar, and it was surprisingly complex. He had the Devil's own time making his body do what it was supposed to, and finally, Liv had to laugh at him a little.
"Here," she said with a chuckle. "Let me help."
She put a finger on the floor in front of his face and said, "Put your chin here and look straight ahead at the baseboard."
He did.
"Good. Now, chest on the floor, hands on the floor, palms down beside your shoulders." She helped him position his hands and pulled his elbows in a bit.
"Butt in the air," she said, and as she put one hand against his pelvis and the other on his rear to help him get into position, all the tingling that had been going on in his body migrated instantly toward her touch.
"Ohhh," he moaned.
"Steve, if it hurts, we should stop."
"It doesn't hurt," he said, suddenly short of breath.
"Then what's wrong?"
"It's just…where you're touching me."
"Oh." As she felt his arousal, her hands jerked away as if she had burned them.
"OH!" After a pause, she flexed his feet so his toes curled under. "Now, just relax, and find your breathing rhythm again."
He focused on his breathing, and, fortunately, as it slowed and deepened again, *everything* started to relax
"You ok?"
"Yeah."
"All right. Now the cobra's easy."
He watched as she straightened her legs, laid her feet flat, and pushed her torso up. He copied her.
"Shoulders down, Steve. Don't lift your pelvis."
He felt a good stretch through his chest and ribs, but after a while, his arms started to tremble. By now, he was dripping with perspiration. He snuck another peek at Olivia and jealously thought she looked like she could hold that position, or any of the others, all day.
"Now the Mountain," she finally said. "Watch carefully." She modeled her instructions as she gave them. "Tuck your toes under, straighten your legs, and raise your butt way up. Shift your weight back, and put your heels down. Hands on the floor and arms straight, let your head hang relaxed between your arms. Look at your bellybutton. Don't hyperextend your knees."
It looked simple, but Steve had barely started to move when she stopped him with a, "Nope!"
"What?!"
"Don't rock back on your knees. Keep your legs straight and just lift your butt."
This time, he found it much more difficult, but he managed to get his rear in the air. He also managed to get himself stuck.
"Uh, Liv."
"Hmmm?"
"I can't put my heels down."
"It will come in time, sweetie. For now just hold your position where you are."
An eternity passed.
"Ok. Now walk your feet forward until you can put your heels down."
He was amazed to feel the stretch in his calf muscles.
The next position was Sprinter. It was a basic lunge, but by this time he was so tired, he had trouble maintaining his balance for two minutes. For the position Hero, all he had to do was stay in the lunge and put his hands together over his head and stretch, but this time he lost his balance altogether and fell over.
Olivia didn't move a muscle, but she giggled at him and said, "Take a break, go back to the Sprinter position and try again."
He watched her for a minute. She was totally absorbed in her breathing. Now he understood why she could not hear him when he knocked at her door on Christmas morning. He went back to the Sprinter position, shifted into the Hero position and this time successfully held it until she told him to move again.
She had him go back to Sprinter, then into the Forward Bend. It simply involved putting his feet and hands flat on the floor beside each other, but he couldn't quite do it.
"Liv, my arms aren't long enough. I can touch the floor all right, but I can't put my hands down flat."
She giggled again, and he had to smile.
"Your arms are the perfect length, Steve. You just lack flexibility. It will come in time. For now, just hang out."
As he relaxed his upper body, he felt his back and neck stretch and his shoulders relax. The next position was a simple stretch, just like Greeting to the Master, except that he was standing with his feet together instead of kneeling.
"Good, Steve. Great. You're halfway done."
"Huh? There's more? God."
"Relax, babe. There's nothing new at this point. It's all the same stuff, just in reverse order."
There were subtle differences in how he moved from one position to the next, but on the whole, Steve felt much more confident going through the second half of the routine. In the Mountain position, he had to walk forward again to get his heels on the floor, and he still needed Liv's help with the Caterpillar, but by the end of the routine, he felt almost exhilarated.
Finally, he and Liv sat facing each other in the Vajrasan position. She looked calm and relaxed, but he was soaked with perspiration.
"How do you feel?"
With some chagrin, he admitted, "Like I've had a real workout. I would never have believed how strenuous it was if I hadn't tried it myself. I can't believe you didn't even break a sweat."
She chuckled. "I'm sorry, this is usually not in my nature, but, I TOLD YOU SO."
Steve laughed good-naturedly and said, "Yes, you did. In the future I will know not to doubt you."
"Good. Now, my routine involves all the positions, synchronized with regulated breathing, but as a beginner, if you just hold each of the positions for a minute or two, and breathe normally, you'll get just as good a workout. If you don't want to do the entire sequence, focus on caterpillar, cobra, mountain, sprinter, and hero. They would be especially good for you because they all work on the pelvis and legs."
She had him hold the sprinter position while she demonstrated what her whole routine looked like with the breathing and everything. When she was half finished, she had him switch to the Hero, and he struggled to maintain his balance. He could hear her breath as she inhaled and exhaled with her movements. It only took her a few minutes to complete the routine.
"Wow. I guess I was really slowing you down."
"You'll get better with practice," she assured him.
After that, Steve and Liv worked out together almost every day. Whenever she caught him ogling her, she'd find some small error in his posture that she simply had to get up and correct. It became a pleasant game, trying to catch a peek without getting caught peeking, and she never complained about having to break her concentration to correct him. In short order, he found his posture and stamina improving. He didn't get frustrated at work as easily, and, most surprisingly, he reduced his coffee intake by nearly a third. Soon he was taking the workouts seriously and genuinely trying to perfect his poses.
One day, Mark and Jesse happened to walk in on him and Liv while they were exercising in his living room at the beach house.
"I don't know, Mark," Jesse said with a snicker, "Don't you think he's getting a little carried away with this?"
"As long as he doesn't come home in saffron robes with a shaved head, I guess it's ok, Jess."
Liv opened one eye and looked at them, "Those are the Hare Krishnas; this is Khatu Pranam, a yoga sequence developed at Khatu Ashram on the edge of the Thar Desert in the west of Rajasthan, India where the saint Bhagwan Sri Deep Narayan Mahaprabhuji lived for 135 years. I just do it for the exercise. The Krishna's are a religious cult."
"So," Jesse asked, "When does the chanting start?"
Without opening his eyes, Steve said, "No chanting, just breathing."
Liv added, "If I have a mantra, it's 'Thy will be done,' from the Lord's Prayer. Now go away, children and have your fun at someone else's expense, or find the courage to give it a try so you know whereof you speak."
Some time later, Liv and Steve came upstairs for a snack to find Mark and Jesse facing each other, eyes closed, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, with towels wrapped around their heads, barely containing their laughter, chanting, "Om Mane Padme Om."
Before Steve could say anything, Liv winked at him and said acidly, "Y'know, there's a position like that in the Kama Sutra."
Steve snorted with laughter as Jesse jumped to his feet and Mark blushed crimson.
Olivia continued dryly, "But you're not doing it right. The turban's are all wrong, they won't stay on."
Mark took the towel off his head and threw it to Jesse. Not knowing what to do with it, Jesse threw it back to Mark as his own faulty turban came unwound and flopped over his face.
Liv finished her critique, "Your feet should be turned soles up on your thighs in the classic lotus position, and the mantra is 'Om Mane Padme Hung.' It's a way of calling Chenrezig, Lord of Love. Like I said, children," she spoke venomously, "know whereof you speak--and tease. I've been practicing yoga for almost twenty years."
She sniffed and went into the kitchen without so much as a backward glance.
Picking up on her tone, Steve looked at the two of them and asked, "Are you proud of yourselves?"
Mark and Jesse looked shamefacedly at each other and then at Steve.
"We didn't mean anything by it," Mark said defensively.
"We were just kidding around, Steve. You don't think we really offended her, do you?" asked Jesse.
Steve stood feet apart, hands on hips, and said sarcastically, "I don't know guys, what do you think? You should have seen her face when she walked in here."
"Jess," Mark said seriously.
"Yeah, Mark, I know. An apology is definitely in order."
"I'm so glad you both see it that way," Steve said bitterly.
Mark and Jesse shuffled to the kitchen, heads hanging, dragging their towels. Steve followed them, and when he caught Olivia's eye, he gave her the thumbs up signal behind their backs. She killed a grin before Mark and Jesse could look at her.
"Liv?" Jesse started.
Bang! She slammed a couple of plates on the counter and the noise made Jesse and Mark jump.
"What?" She snapped, refusing to look at him.
"Liv, we're sorry. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
Thump! Whack! Cold cuts and mayonnaise joined the plates.
"Really? Maybe you should have considered that before you tied a bath towel around your head."
Thud! A bowl of tomatoes and lettuce took its place on the counter.
"Liv, honey, we're so sorry," Mark finally found his voice. "We never thought you'd take it so seriously. It was all in fun."
"I just have one thing to say," she told them in a tearful voice.
She sniffed deeply, looked Mark in the eye, flashed an impish grin, and said, "Gotcha!!"
Steve began to laugh hysterically. After a moment of gaping confusion, Mark and Jesse realized the tables had been subtly turned to make them the butt of a brilliantly executed joke and they joined in the laughter.
Pointing at Steve, Mark said, "I won't soon forget this, son."
"I wouldn't dream of letting you, Dad," Steve laughingly replied.
"We will get even," Jesse vowed.
Olivia told him, "Catch me if you can! Now who wants what on their sandwiches?"
One morning at the beach house, Olivia woke early and padded out to the kitchen in her fuzzy yellow robe and overstuffed elephant slippers. She poured herself a cup of coffee that had apparently made itself as Mark was nowhere to be found, and headed out to the deck. She was surprised to see Steve there. He was not usually an early riser.
He was standing perfectly still, staring at the ocean. The sun rising behind the house turned the near side of the dunes and waves a shimmering gold and left the far side into darkness. It highlighted Steve's hair, too, and cast his face in shadow. Liv watched him in silence for a long time. After a moment, she saw him close his eyes.
"Good morning, Liv," he said, eyes still closed.
"Good morning, babe. Whatcha lookin' at?"
She saw him smile, and he said, "The future."
She smiled, too, and played along. "Oh. Whatcha see?"
"Come here and I'll show you."
She moved to stand beside him, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders. Never opening his eyes, he began to describe the scene in his mind.
"Right down there, Liv, where it levels off above the high tide line, I see an old man with snowy white hair sitting in a folding chair. There's a demolished picnic spread out on the blanket at his feet, and there are several other people sitting on the edges of the blanket. There's a tall, very elegant black woman at the end of the blanket, and a man who is obviously her husband with his arm around her. To the old man's left is a small blond guy, just starting to go gray, who is teasing an attractive blonde woman. They are clearly a couple. On the old man's right, there's this big guy who looks a lot like the old man, and his hair is getting pretty gray. He's stretched out full length on the blanket, and he has his head resting in the lap of this tiny, spirited redhead. He's so big, and she's so small, she looks like a child, but anyone can tell they've been madly in love for years."
"Mmm," Liv sighed.
"Wait, there's more. There are several younger people on the beach, playing in the surf. Two handsome young black men, each with a date, a blonde kid, considerably younger than the rest, and a stunning, statuesque redhead in her early twenties. She's walking arm in arm with a handsome young man, and they are both quite happy. The little redhead on the blanket is playing with her husband's hair, and she says something to him that makes him look at his daughter and her date, and the two young people come over to them."
"Oh? What has the redhead told her husband?"
"Just that the kids want to talk to him. The daughter shows him a ring on her left hand, and he gets up and hugs her. Then he shakes the young man's hand. The daughter gives her granddad a hug and a kiss, and her fiancé shakes his hand. There are lots of hugs and handshakes, and much admiring of the ring. As the sun starts to set, the people gather up their picnic and head for the house, with the men joking about a bachelor party and the women talking about color schemes and flowers."
"You're quite a visionary, Steve. Do you hallucinate often?"
He chuckled and said, "It's not a hallucination, Liv. It's a dream, maybe a wish. But it's so real I can see every detail. There's another image I can't shake."
"What's that?"
"I see the same people, all dressed up, the men in tuxedos, the women in beautiful dresses. The young redhead and her lover are standing beneath an arch of flowers, and a crowd of friends sits in white folding chairs watching the ceremony. The redhead's mother and father and grandfather watch in delight as she says her vows and gets a kiss from her new husband."
"Steve…"
"Yeah?"
"You're an incurable romantic."
He laughed, "Yeah, I guess so, but you have to admit, it sounds pretty nice doesn't it?"
"It sounds wonderful."
Two weeks flew by, and before they knew it, the time had come to go to Pennsylvania. They were taking an overnight flight into Pittsburgh International Airport, and driving to her hometown from there. They would arrive in the wee hours of the morning with virtually no traffic and have time to get settled at Liv's place before anyone knew they were in town.
Mark drove them to the airport.
"Have a good flight, try to get some sleep on the plane, stay warm, and send me a postcard."
"Sure thing, Dad."
"Call when you get there so I know you made it safely."
"We will, Dad."
"Hey Mark, I'll see if I can get some pictures of Steve with Phil for you."
"Phil?"
"The groundhog!"
"Oh! Yeah, that would be neat."
Steve looked at Liv and said, "I'm not making friends with an overgrown rat."
She just laughed at him, gave Mark a kiss on the cheek, and waved as he drove off.