July 1976
It's funny how easy it is to sink into routine. Olivia leaves early in the morning. She won't let me make her breakfast because she just picks at it as she drinks her coffee. I've never been able to take no for an answer and even though she barely speaks I love to watch her as I eat my breakfast.
There's something so amazing in the way she smiles sleepily over her coffee before she digs out her work to start the day. When we first got married, she didn't go to the office until ten, or sometimes even after lunch. Now she gets up before six. She swims laps and gets into the shower.
I love the way the bathroom smells when she's done. The lavender of her shampoo is almost tempting enough for me to wash my own hair with it. Bette would never let me hear the end of it if she knew I thought about it every time I get into the shower. I'd do anything to keep that part of Olivia with me while she's at work all day. I can usually sneak in after her while the bathroom's still warm with steam. Today she's running a little behind and it's a rush to get her out the door on time.
"Can you make it home for lunch?" I hand her the briefcase and wait for her to kiss me.
Olivia runs through her schedule in her mind, shaking her head. "No darling. I'm a little behind." She looks tired, but she does her best to smile for me. "I see you tonight."
Running my hands through her hair, I hug her impulsively. A long goodbye might just make her late, but it'll be worth it. "You don't have to save the world every day Liv. It might be okay to let the other lawyers do some of the work, some of the time."
She laughs a little. "I'd love to stay home with you darling. Play hooky for a day..." Toying with the edge of my robe, Olivia takes her briefcase from me. "I just have so much to do. They're talking about making me a partner. I can't let that slip away. You know how much that would mean to us."
"Liv, I don't care what you do for a living. You could never go to work again and I'd still love you."
Kissing me quickly, Olivia shakes her head. "You might not like me as a bum. I'd spend all your money."
I lift her hands as she holds on to her briefcase and kiss the knuckles playfully. "It's your money too darling. You can spend it however you like."
"I love you." She whispers gently. "But I have to go. I really am behind at the office."
"Is that why you fell asleep in your study last night?" She looked like a fallen angel with her dark head fast asleep on the pile of papers on her desk.
She rests in my arms for a moment and nods. "Thanks for rescuing me."
"Anytime sweetheart." I kiss her again, lingering on the taste of coffee on her lips. "I'll see you for dinner. Maybe I'll make your favorite."
"You're the best darling." Olivia pauses one more second before escaping to the car. She waves to me, blowing me a kiss before she climbs into the beautiful green convertible my father and I picked out for her last Christmas. The only time in my life I've ever been shopping for anything with my father.
No surprises there. He's loved Olivia since the day he met her at the firm. She's everything he ever wanted from me. Brilliant in law and business, ambitious and driven to succeed at all costs. If I was as exhausted as she's been lately I would have let her talk me into staying home. I would have taken care of her.
I'd jump at the chance to take care of her. She's always in control of everything. She picked out our house, the beautiful mansion at the head of Ocean Avenue seemed to extravagant when she brought me to it for the first time.
The furniture my sisters picked out helped make it seem like home. I remember Patty laughing when I explained how little and lost I felt in it. She was a saint when she brought home the bed. It's an original, hand carved centuries ago and shipped across the Atlantic. Olivia didn't understand the symbolism or why I was so excited that our marriage bed had a history.
"Everything important is built on history. I'd like us to be." Olivia laughed, reminding me that all the history in the world isn't as much fun as what she wanted to do in our bed.
She plans our vacations, she even picks out my clothes when we go shopping. The only thing she lets me do is cook. She's even talked of getting a housekeeper to keep me from slaving away in the kitchen.
Olivia doesn't understand how I can like something as tedious as cooking. I leave my robe on the back of the kitchen door and turn on the radio as I start my stock for dinner tonight. If I get it going now, I'll have enough time to work on my research while I wait for it to boil down.
Ol' blue eyes croons love songs as I chop up the onions I need for my chicken stock. It's a bit warm out for prisciutto stuffed chicken breast, but Olivia could use something hearty. She's been so pale for the last few weeks. I add white wine as Frank begins a duet I know. It's funny to be embarrassed as I sing along.
Olivia's allergic to all kinds of furry creatures, we don't even have a pet to hear me and stare up at me in quiet amusement. A few more songs and all the vegetables are swimming on low heat as they boil down to the chicken stock I'll need tonight. It's still only eight am. I have time to make bread.
I dig up the cook book from the lower shelf by the oven and soon I'm up to my wrists in sticky bread dough. The steady rhythm of kneading lets my mind wander, and as it always does lately, it wanders to my thesis.
I've collected all the research, there's a stack of books five feet high around the desk in our library. Olivia has the study after all, but the library suits me better. I don't need an imposing desk to meet with my clients. All I need is a chair and a lamp to read by.
I tuck the bread into a bowl and cover it with a dish cloth as I tuck it up in a warm place above the stove. I'm a mess now, covered in flour and bits of vegetables. Cleaning up the kitchen is something I could handle having someone else do. Olivia's never been one for doing dishes.
I often wonder if she'd even remember to eat if I didn't make dinner together a requirement of our marriage. Dinner four days a week didn't seem like too much to ask. She's been able to keep the bargain, even if she's yawned her way through the last few. Something's draining her dauntless energy lately.
I drop the sponge in the sink and head up to shower. Might as well be clean before I settle down to try and coax a thesis out of my copious notes. Maybe I should have just been a lawyer like Olivia. Less creative thinking involved.
The shower comes on with a hiss of hot water and I drop my pajamas into the hamper before I step into it. Olivia invades my thoughts, as she always does, but instead of fighting it and trying to force my mind back to my thesis I let my mind wander.
I can't help wondering what she's doing at the office. Do thoughts of me float through her head while she's trying to work? Is she happy? Does she think about me and smile?
The foam from the shampoo runs down my back and then it hits me. Pepin the Short and the Carolingians. It's perfect. I shut off the water and grab my robe from the hook on the wall as I run down to the library, completely headless of the fact that I'm dripping water and leftover soap onto the cool stone floor of the library. That doesn't matter.
The fact that I'm standing there naked and soaking through my robe matters little as well. What matters is that I know what to write. My hand flies across the legal pad that's been standing empty, waiting for me to come up with the right words. Now the right words fly from the tip of the pen, as if they've been hiding there all along.
I don't know how long I was standing there, pouring my mind out onto the page. I barely even noticed she was there until her laughter shocked me out of my daze.
"Liv?" I whirl around, tying my robe as I pull her into my arms. I couldn't be happier kissing her. Having her home for lunch is the perfect surprise. The icing on the cake. She may not be interested in the subject matter, but she has to appreciate how fantastic it is that I finally know what to write.
"Why didn't you tell me you'd be home for lunch?" Giddy, I bury my head in her hair and lift her up to twirl her around.
"No don't. Stop!" She cries out quickly before I can spin her.
Confused, and almost hurt I stop immediately to look down at her face.
"I'm a little dizzy. That's all."
I lead her to the chair and sit her down as I kneel on the floor in front of her. "Are you all right? Did Massey send you home sick?"
"Greysolon actually." She responds with the smallest of wry smiles. "I fainted." She seems more embarrassed than concerned, but my heart skips a beat. "I was supposed to be presenting my closing for the Miekiel case, but everything just went dark."
She covers my mouth when I start to voice the concerns pouring through my mind. "Before you call out the National Guard, I've already been to the doctor and I'm fine."
"Just overworked?" I guess as I run my hands over her knees. "Maybe you should slow down a little."
Olivia leans back to look at the ceiling, sighing heavily as she tilts her head back. "I'm going to have too."
Now I know something's wrong, but I can't find the words to ask. I can't lose her. My blood's cold and still.
"Just for awhile though." Olivia manages to smile but I can tell it took great effort.
"Liv-"
"Tell me you love me." Olivia whispers as she leans down to kiss the top of my head. "Please."
"I love you." I respond immediately. "God Liv, there's no doubt of that."
"No matter what?"
Everything about her is desperate for reassurance. Her hands wrap tight around mine, her shoulders are hunched, she looks like something terrible is going to come storming through the door behind me. "I don't think I'm capable of not loving you. You're part of me. So much that I don't know where I end when we're together."
I pull her hands down over my heart, feeling the chill of her fingers start to warm against my skin. "It's probably something I should be worried about, but I feel whole when I'm with you. You're sunlight and dust and moldy old books. You're my Cleopatra, Hatshepsut, Elizabeth the first, and Boudicea. Everything I love in the world."
Olivia starts to laugh, and drops her head to my chest as I switch our places and take her into my lap. "Tell me what it is and we'll make it all right."
"Oh Gregory, darling, I'm pregnant." She wraps her arms around my neck and holds on as I start to laugh. I've never heard better news. I've never read a better story. This is it, life at it's most precious and beautiful.
"Sweetheart-" I whisper into her hair as her shoulders start to shake. She's terrified. She'd never let me keep holding her under normal circumstances. "Liv- it's going to be wonderful."
She shakes her head and refuses to pull it from my shoulder. "I can't-"
Pulling her closer, I run my hands over her back and wonder if the way daddy was writing his thesis nearly naked will make it into a story some day. Daddy has the oddest ring to it. It echoes in my head and settles into my heart.
"You can do anything." I whisper seriously. I've never believed in anyone the way I believe in her. "Absolutely anything."
Olivia's reply is nearly inaudible. If I hadn't heard it, I don't think I would have believed she was the who said it. But she did. She curled up in my arms and admitted something I'd never expected to hear from her.
"Not without you." She swallows nervously and snuggles deeper into my chest. "You just take this in stride. You manage to be happy. When the doctor told me I laughed. I refused to believe it. I thought I'd been so careful."
"It's all right Liv. Nothing's foolproof."
"Ninety-nine percent wasn't enough." She swallows again and i realize the warm wetness on my chest is tears. Her tears. "Why couldn't it be enough?"
"I can understand why you'd be upset. We haven't talked about having a baby." She shudders slightly, catching the meaning behind my words. She hasn't talked about it. I talk babies with Alex at least once a month. Bette thinks fatherhood will be good for me. Give me someone to take care of who likes being taken care of for once.
Olivia pulls herself together and slips off my lap. "I should let you get dressed."
"There's no hurry." I hang on to her hand a moment. "I've had more serious discussions absolutely naked before."
Even the gentle allusion to our marriage proposal doesn't make her smile more than reflexively. She doesn't want to talk about the baby. If I let her the conversation will be on something else all day long.
I smile and give in. "I'll be right back down darling." Finally, however weakly, she squeezes back.
"I'll be here."
I walk slowly until I hit the staircase, then I break into a run up the stairs to our bedroom. A baby. A beautiful, sweet, perfect little baby. Our baby. A living reminder of how much we love each other. It's the best news I've ever heard but Olivia looks like she's lost the biggest case of her career.
I pull on my clothes in a hurry, not even bothering to look for socks. Running my fingers through my hair makes me just presentable enough. I hurry back downstairs. She's not in the living room. I quick check of the study finds it empty as well. I'm heading for the kitchen when she calls me.
"I'm still in here Gregory." And she is, curled up like a kitten in the sunshine from the picture window. She doesn't spend much time in the library. Usually she leaves it to me, preferring to work herself to death in the study. "It's peaceful in here."
"That's why I like it." My notes have moved to her lap. She must have to decided to read them while she was waiting for me.
"This is brilliant." She smiles at me softly as she moves over to make room for me next to her. "Some of your best really."
"I think it's going to be my thesis." I admit with a proud smile. "Finally came up with something I like."
"In the shower?" She raises an eyebrow as she sets them down on the floor by her shoes.
"I get my best ideas there." I lean forward to kiss her cheek. "You know that."
Olivia takes my hands. "It seems we're both going to busy. I'm going to be made partner as soon as I finish this case and you're going to turn in your thesis and start working on your doctorate."
I push my notes further out of the way and turn her so she's in my arms again. "There's no rush. You can be partner or senator, or president. Whatever you want and I'll be daddy until I get my thesis done."
"Take the baby to all of those graduate classes?" It sends a rush of warmth through my chest to hear her say baby.
"More like teach the baby to nap in the library." I fold my hands around her little waist and try to imagine a baby beneath there.
She sighs as she strokes my hands. "You're going to make this work. Aren't you?"
"For you, I could do anything."
Olivia pauses thoughtfully on my wedding ring. "Are you going to say that a year from now, when you've been up all night with a screaming baby and you're just trying to find a moment to do anything for yourself?"
"I might be a little jealous when you run off to work and leave me in the land of diapers and baby blankets. But I'll manage-" I sigh happily as I remember holding my nieces as babies. "We'll manage. I've wanted to have children with you ever since I saw you play with the girls. You're the most intelligent, sweetest, most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. I don't know what you're doing with me."
"Because you can say things like that and mean them." Olivia closes her eyes and starts to relax for the first time since she came home. "Because you love me."
"That I do." I run my hand across her stomach and settle into the couch. "Its going to be all right. If you want to keep working, you can keep working. I won't lose anything by taking some extra time to finish my thesis. It's not like I'm in a hurry to start doing more research."
She giggles softly. "We both know how much you love your microfilm."
"I'll settle for micro-feet." She groans at the pun, and her eyes flutter open a little.
"And micro-hands, micro-cheeks, micro-little elbows... I love you Olivia. You're my wife, and now you're going to be the mother of my baby. I don't think I could have more than that." I lean down to kiss her forehead. "I certainly can't think of anything more than that."
------------------------
June 1997
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion; A woman's gentle heart-
There's hardly anything gentle about the woman on my mind. I can't help thinking about her. I suppose if I was serious about not thinking about her I shouldn't be reading a book she gave me.
To the only poet to speak to my heart. All my love, Olivia
It's there, right inside the front cover in the neat script she saves for personal occasions. Her private handwriting, not the more masculine businesslike lettering.
And for a woman wert thou first created; till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
I set the book down, trying to turn my attention back to the textbook in front of me. I have to condense my lecture from today into something more streamlined for my students. I reach for my syllabus, wondering if I should just move back their test. There's not much time left in the semester. I might not be able to squeeze out more than a day.
The bedroom door opens quickly and Olivia hurries in. She looks over the bed and stops, startled to see me in my pajamas with my work spread all over our bed.
"Darling-" She crosses her arms over her chest and looks a little confused. "I thought you were still in the library."
I look over at my watch on the nightstand. "It's nearly midnight. I try to go to bed by then, even if I take my work with me." I wink at her, trying to win a smile. She's been so quiet today.
"I know." She echoes softly. "I guess I just didn't realize how late it was."
Olivia heads straight for her closet, reaching for the pale blue silk robe hanging on the door.
"Getting ready for bed?" I ask as I start picking up my papers to make room for her.
Shaking her head, she pulls the robe on over her clothes and heads for the doorway slowly. "No, I've still a lot to do before I go back to work tomorrow." She watches my odd glance at her robe. "I just got cold."
I drop my work on the floor with a thud and fetch my red and black robe from my closet. "Wear this one instead, it's my favorite." I don't mention that it's a warm night. I don't ask her how she can be cold when the wind isn't even off the ocean. "Yours aren't as thick as mine." I explain as I trade her.
She pulls it tight around her immediately. Now that she's close enough I can see the trembling of her shoulders but I don't dare touch her. She's been on edge all day. I don't want to set her off now.
I pick up my book of poetry and force myself to read the same line over and over as I wait for her to leave. She doesn't want me to take care of her. She'll just be offended if I ask if she's feeling better. When she's not looking I sneak a glance at her reflection in the mirror of her closet. Her face is tight, strained with something she doesn't want to share with me.
Olivia closes her eyes and sighs heavily. There's a vibration at the end of her sigh. Are her teeth chattering? She turns around slowly and calls my gaze up from the poem I'm vainly trying to read.
"I can't get warm." She swallows and takes a slow step towards me. "I was trying to get my briefs done for Alex's case, but it just came out of nowhere."
I drop my book on the bed and catch her arms. For the second time today Olivia lets me lead her somewhere. I sit her on the corner of the bed and let her finish her explanation.
"I suddenly got dizzy and then everything got cold. I made some coffee-"
I run my hand over her shoulders, trying to coax circulation into her skin. "Do you want me to call a doctor?" Olivia's never sick. She wasn't even sick when she was pregnant. If she's admitting this now, something must be wrong. Terribly wrong.
But she shakes her head. "No, no Gregory. I just want to be warm again."
I open the covers on my side of the bed and let her slip beneath them. I wrap my arm around her chest and pull her tight against me. "You're still going to have to change before bed."
Olivia laughs so weakly it's almost a cough. "That is one of the rules isn't it?"
"No sleeping in your clothes." I quote as I pull her head up a little on the pillow.
"Are you going to undress me?" She teases without much humor, but I appreciate the attempt.
"Only after you fall asleep." I promise with droll certainty. "You're too squirmy when you're awake."
Olivia laughs for real this time and her fingers fold over mine. Her fingers are freezing and I switch our hands to warm them up. We lie there in silence for a long time. I start to wonder if I should think about undressing her and shutting off the lights.
She could be talking in her sleep when she whispers, "Do you love me?"
Only Olivia could lie in my arms and wonder. She's the only one who doesn't see the choke hold she has on every aspect of my life.
"I love you."
She starts to roll over to challenge me, but I hold her tight. "Shhh. Maybe you should try and get some sleep."
Olivia's reply is slow, but it's lighthearted enough to pass for cheerful. "I'm still in my clothes."
I reach under the blankets and start undoing the line of buttons on the front of her blouse. "I'm working on it. Just don't squirm."
"If you don't tickle-" She warms grimly. "I won't squirm."
"I haven't tickled you since-"
Olivia interrupts sadly as she lets me free her from her blouse. "Before I lost our baby."
Our baby. There's a ghost we haven't discussed in awhile. I remember when a day didn't go by where I didn't wonder what that little baby would have been like when I held him. After the miscarriage she was too serious for tickling. Too serious for love. Too serious to laugh with me. Caitlin still got through to her, but she was the only one.
Olivia squirms when I find my way to the waistband of her black linen trousers.
"What?" I ask softly as I stop moving my fingers. "What is it?"
She doesn't bother to open her eyes. "I'm sore."
I learned years ago not to ask why. Maybe she's been having an affair. Fate's payback for my dalliance with Alex. I can't help hoping he doesn't hurt her. The thought of her in pain is far worse than the idea of her with another man. What would he be like? Another heartless lawyer driven beyond the limits of human endurance? What does he do to her that would make her sore?
I let my hands rest there awhile, knitting my fingers together just below her navel. The skin there's cool, like the rest of her body. Perhaps the warmth of my hands will relax it away. After a few minutes her breathing is quiet, rhythmic almost. She's still as I drop her clothes over the edge of the bed.
My robe will have to do as a nightgown because I don't have the heart to force her out of bed to change. As I reach across to shut off the light, Olivia blinks sleepily up at me.
"You never told me what your lecture was about."
I chuckle and lay back next to her. Surprisingly she turns back into my arms. Her head finds a place on my chest and I remove the heavy clip from her hair. It runs out between my fingers, soft like dark water. "The lecture I was practicing when you came home?"
Another nod, the sheets rustle as she pulls the blankets up. I assist her, pulling them all the way up to the nape of her neck. "Still cold?"
Olivia just pulls closer. Tighter against my side. Maybe an affair has come to an end. Perhaps she's lonely. Of the hundred reasons a wife needs her husband's arms, none of them fit her.
"Childeric was the beginning of a dynasty in France. The 'long-haired kings' as they were known then or the Merovingians as we know them now."
Her breathing slows again. It may be nearly impossible to get Olivia to take a nap during the day, but listening to me drone about history always quiets her. "Childeric's son, Clovis the first, united most of Gaul under the Fleur de Lis. That was actually added to the crest after he rode into battle with one in his hair."
A tangle in her hair catches in my fingers and she startles slightly. "Do you ever imagine riding into battle?" Olivia wonders as her hand moves slightly across my chest.
"No." I answer with a quiet smile for the dark ceiling. "I imagine you riding home from one with your wild hair streaming out behind you as you throw off your helmet and ride your war horse into the castle."
"Drenched in blood and the muck of the battle?" I can hear the disdain in her voice.
"Of course." I tease as I work my way through the tangle. "Still covered in gore you strut victorious to your war room, ready to mark the fruits of your labor on the map on the wall."
She chuckles, lifting her head just enough to change her position on my chest before going still again. "Where are you through this strange gothic fantasy of yours?"
"I wait." I offer simply, embarrassed by the simplicity of my fantasies. "When you let me I take off your armor and wash the blood out of your hair. You tell me that the battle is won and the kingdom is safe again. I smile. I knew you'd never lose to an inferior tactician."
She's so still she must be asleep. I wouldn't let myself finish, but the sound of my voice seems to be calming her. "You kiss me in our moment alone. Tell me you'll see me tonight when all your work is done. I believe you, even though you'll probably crawl into bed long after I've gone to sleep."
I find her shoulder and run my hand slowly down her back. "I retreat to my corner and add your victory to the chronicles of your reign. Another foe driven back. Another tribe united under your banner."
Olivia sits up suddenly, startling me out of my story. "You still dream about me kissing you?"
I can feel the blush rise in my face, but there's no need to hide my embarrassment. Twenty years and I still dream about kissing her. Twenty years and she's still as elusive as that gorgeous creature wandering the dark stacks of the library. "Always." I answer as honestly as I can. "Ever since I saw you that first night."
And then she finds my mouth, softening my lips with the moist touch of her tongue. I'll never know if it's pity or amusement. If she just likes to keep me close enough to turn to when she's alone but far enough that even I can't get into her heart.
"I do love you." She whispers as her lips release mine. "I don't tell you, or show you enough, but darling- I do love you."
It's too dark for her to see the dampness in my eyes. "I love you too."
Her head drops back to my chest, her eyes quiet behind closed lids. Something must have happened. Something changed. She's too close to apology, too sweet and strangely honest. But she'll never tell me what it is. Olivia would never give me that satisfaction.